To Live Again: In her Hands {Lord of the Rings / Thranduil fanfic}

14. Fear Part II

The sky is turning grey, dawn approaches, but it brings with it very little joy.

I have sat here all night, my limbs cold and numb from the gravel and rock, and my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Blinking back the dryness in my eyes I peek up at the light...the stars are disappearing.

"It will be morning soon," I mumble tiredly to her, cradling her gently, smiling sadly as I do. "The servants will be ghosting about the palace, the bread will be baking in the kitchens, and if we were home I'd be sneaking you back to your chambers...before Legolas caught us...again."

Silence.

"You distract me so much," I snivel pathetically, spluttering out a harsh and hallow huff. "I should be working Clara, you know that; you knew that and you really did not care...did you?"

Silence.

"The nights you sit and paint - in my rooms - lounging on my floors, covered in colours and looking like a messy child," I scold weightlessly. "The amount of evenings I wasted going over and over language, only for you to still sound like a uncouth dwarf stumbling over the simplest of words, and then you'd laugh and shrug as if none of it mattered...well it absolutely does matter...why did you do it?"

I scowl at her still form, her vacant half lidded eyes, and I feel a rush of emotion bubble up.

"If you were never going to stay," I bark the words out with a biting force, "if you were not meant for this place...then why did you make it seem so? You could have let me die Clara, left me to rot in my emptiness, why did you put in so much effort if you had absolutely no intention of staying with me? Good Eru Clara...fight!"

Silence.

I never thought death could take so long.  I do not even know how she was still here, how that small and weak thrum of life still pulsed under the papery thin skin of her neck?  The selfish part of me wants to believe she'll wake up, that there is strength left in her and that is why she is still here.  Yet, I have no idea what pain she is in?  How the poison must be slowly choking her, how her body must ache, maybe even my very touch is causing her agony? 

The nasty gash on her shoulder still seeps, so logic should tell me she isn't healing, that there is no hope left here.  Even if there was, even if she could, why would she want to stay after all she has suffered?

My hand runs along the length of her bare leg, matching my fingers to imprints of bruises there, before the horrific thoughts cause me to turn away to repress the urge to wretch. 

She told me they didn't touch her; I try to remind myself but how could I be sure?  She is so brave, so strong, she'd never admit to such violation and probably just to spare me the pain.  They could have broken her feä, darkened it with their evil torment, so she could never feel joy again.  I have heard of such evil and torture used on elves; used to break them so they become like orc.  Many fade or give up before any damage can be done, their heart's not able to bear the evil, but she is stronger than any elleth I know, she'd hold on, she'd fight them...for Legolas' sake she would.

I turn away, facing the direction of home and considering I should try and make it back for Legolas' sake. I feel like I could walk the distance now, the solid pounding on the left side of my skull has eased but my vision is still weak. If I ran into anymore trouble I do not think I'd have the strength, or the will, to fight them off. Besides, I won't leave Clara here, whether it's futile or not, I am bringing the people's princess home, she deserves to be celebrated, her bravery saved their King.

They will know what you did for us.

I glare resentfully at the rotting corpse of the orc shaman not but ten feet away.   The soulless creature's flesh already appearing to fill with maggots, devouring his wretched flesh with glee...it makes my very skin crawl.