Star-Crossed

Chapter 48

Beuren lay limply on the stone below. She'd taken quite a beating from Azog, but he had strict orders to keep her alive. It seemed like days since she'd been blacked out, but her hair was still damp. The grime and blood had begun to dry, her torn clothes too. 

"Milady? Milady, wake up." Someone shook her shoulder, she groaned her head pounding. 

"Come now, it is not safe here."

"As if I don't already know that." Beuren opened her eyes wearily, her vison blurry. 

"Be as it may, we need to leave." She sat up, clutching her head. "Up, let's go."

"Who are you?" 

"I go by many names, but you may call me Mairon." She peered up at the man standing before her. He was elf-like in appearance, arguably one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. Dark hair fell over both shoulders, his eyes, though, were what interested her the most. They appeared to be almost a fiery orange as she watched him taking something out of a pack. Sure it was just the light of the newly risen sun, she turned her focus to getting to her feet. 

"What brought you to these mountains?"

"I was traveling East, almost got caught by Goblins only to be caught by Orcs." 

"Azog's a nasty one." He handed her a kerchief. "Take this, I wish I could give you more, I fear I just recently ran out of water myself. That should at least get some blood off your face." She took the kerchief, watching the man carefully. "Your friends, where are they heading? I can take you to them?" He shouldered his pack, looking down at her. "What's the matter?"

"Who the hell are you?" 

"You must have hit your head pretty hard. I'm Mairon." 

"I didn't tell you about Azog. Or my friends." He stared at her blankly a moment, then, smiling he gave a chuckle. 

"They taught you pretty good those elves, didn't they?" He began to circle her, he turned with him, never letting him behind her. "What's his name... El...Eldor... ah! Elrond. Yes, Elrond, and his little ranger sons, their names I cannot remember." He shrugged, turning to look back at her. 

"Answer the question." 

"I thought that after all this time, Beuren, you'd have figured out who I am already. I haven't used the name Aulë gave me in eons, I suppose I should have used something a bit more recent. Annatar, perhaps? If you don't know me by that name, they you really should have picked up a book instead of ogling over that dwarf runt." She stared at him quizzically, her brain to fuzzy to recall her history lessons at the moment. "No? No surprise there, your father was an idiot too." 

"I've had enough of your riddles. Who. Are. You?" He frowned, facing her now. 

"Your demise, little one." 

BEUREN

When she hit the ground, all the air left her lungs. Beuren choked, gasping for air as she rolled to her side. Looking back, she saw no sign of whoever it had been standing before her only moments ago. Must have been a dream, a hallucination, she thought to herself. 

"I suggest you be more careful in these mountains, Lady Elendil." Beuren spun on her knees, taking up a stone to defend herself. She stopped though, watching the man before her. 

"Saruman?" 

"Indeed. I sensed you needed aid." He looked her up and down. "And I suppose my senses were correct."

"Thank you." He offered her his hand. When she rose to her feet, he released her hand and turned from her. "Saruman." He paused. "Who was that man?" 

"What man?" He looked at her, confusion evident. 

"The man, the dark-haired man?" 

"Beuren, there was no man, dark-haired or otherwise." It was her turn to look confused. "Now, I must return to Isengard." The White Wizard said, turning his back to her once more.

"He said his name was Mairon!" He whirled about to face her. 

"Mairon?"

"Yes." 

"You were dreaming, Beuren." Something in his eyes told her he knew more than he'd care to admit. "Now go, these mountains are not safe for you." And with that, he was gone. 

It seemed to be a long while before Beuren could orient herself. As she began trekking out of the mountains, she was forced to take cover. Azog and his merry band of murderers were hot on the trail of something, she didn't know what, but she was sure glad it wasn't her. Unfortunately, with no ideas how to get out of the Misty Mountains, Beuren was forced to tail the Orc pack. She stayed well out of sight and downwind so she could not be smelled, this of course made it no less nerve-racking.