Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2004 3:59 am
Growing weary with the talk of ships and supplies, Legyviel took out a small dagger and lazily began playing with it. The beautifully worked metal caught the light as it was tossed up, and flashing, was caught deftly by its owner. Legyviel’s thoughts were full of dark images, and she began brooding, toying with the idea of killing the bard. The three riders joined them and introductions were made, but the elf hardly listened. Eventually, the others retired, some stretching and lingering a while in the warm common room before going to bed, others going straight upstairs. Legyviel remained seated, throwing the blade faster and higher, watching it flash and simmer hypnotically in the air as it danced to her will. Her game slowed when someone called her name and she looked up. Tanith was watching the blade as she spoke.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you,†she said, almost hesitantly. Legyviel raised her eyebrows in question, so she continued. “If you haven’t already hired a room, would you like to share one with me?†she asked. The dagger stopped flying abruptly, the point balanced precariously on the tip of Legyviel’s finger. She looked up and the coldness in her eyes almost froze Tanith.
“I have a room,†she lied, her voice icy. Tanith said no more, simply nodded and left. Legyviel looked moodily after her, knowing she would regret her rudeness later but not caring at the moment. Dark thoughts concerning the bard plagued her, and to add to that, her vanity and pride was stung that a mere human thought that she, an elf, would consider sharing a room with her. Tucking the blade away, she rose suddenly and gracefully and stalked over to Brûnir the innkeeper. The smile on his face faded when he looked up and saw the elf glowering down at him. When she remained silent and unforthcoming, he asked if he could help her.
“I need a room,†she replied, too irritated to even pretend she thought him little more than dust beneath her boot. Brûnir’s face lit up at the prospect of money, his tone changing immediately.
“Of course, of course, milady. The best room, of course, I have the key right here….†He said in an oily voice, rummaging under the counter. Once the matter of a room had been settled, and Legyviel had pocketed her key, she felt she had been in the vicinity of the sleazy innkeeper for much too long and turned to leave, but she stopped at the foot of the stairs, remembering once more the bard. She realised, suddenly, that her mind had made itself up long ago, and found herself standing before Brûnir again. The innkeeper was starting to look annoyed, but the elf regarded him haughtily.
“I need you to tell me…where the bard who was playing tonight lodges,†she said softly, icily, slipping coin onto the counter. Brûnir snatched up the money and regarded her with thinly veiled suspicion.
“That wench-†he growled, then caught the look on Legyviel’s face and changed his tone. “Begging your pardon, milady, but she’s either gone on her way or is sleeping in the taproom,†he oozed.
The corridor leading to the taproom was dimly lit and sullen-looking, but the lack of proper light hardly affected the elf’s sharp eyesight. A dagger glinted in her hand once more, yet it was a different blade to the one she had been playing with previously. This knife was smaller, sharper, smoother. It was a dagger made for killing.
The bard’s door was unlocked, Legyviel found when she tried the knob- a fact that immediately made her suspicious. She entered the room nonetheless. A beam of moonlight fell across the floor, illuminating the pallet where the bard slumbered. The room was silent, heavy with the scent of sleep. Sleep… or something worse.
Legyviel walked noiselessly over to the pallet, and crouched beside the bard. Her knife had disappeared, for she sensed something was amiss. There was a stillness, a silence in the air, and suddenly she realised what it was. She could not hear the bard breathing. Warily, she slid out her knife again, but by the time she touched the bard’s cold forehead, she knew there would be no need for it. The bard was dead, and someone had cheated the elf of her revenge. Legyviel’s hand curled into a fist and she turned away, but something caught her eye. Something amber, glinting at the bard’s throat. It was like no pendant she had ever seen, and she reached out a hand to touch it….
Her head snapped up suddenly as she heard voices. They were far away yet, but approaching fast. She rose and walked softly to the door, listening intently. The voices were talking in hushed tones, but the language she recognised easily- the two were Haradrim.
A hiss of distaste escaped the elf’s mouth, and she heard the voices falter. Cursing herself, she opened the door a crack and looked out. The men stood at the opposite end of the hall, dressed as serving lads and looking very happy about something. She may have recognised the language, but Legyviel’s did not know what the words meant, thus felt even more frustrated. She was willing to bet her purse, though, that they wee up to no good. Knowing she’d have to move fast to get away without being noticed, the elf opened the door further and slid through and down the hall, slipping from shadow to shadow on wings of night.
She passed a hassled-looking Brûnir on the stairs but ignored him. Steeping gracefully down the wide upper hallway, it was not long before she reached Alandriel’s room. Something red glistened on the carpet just outside the ranger’s door, and looking closer, Legyviel found it to be blood. She frowned, remembered the slight droop she had noticed in Alandriel’s shoulder earlier, but put it out of her mind for the moment. Instead, she knocked once, found the door unlocked and entered without waiting for a reply. From her desk, Alandriel looked up in surprise.
“The door was unlocked,†Legyviel explained. She passed a hand wearily over her face and collapsed into a nearby chair. Alandriel frowned as she walked over to shut the door.
“You look flushed,†she remarked. Legyviel made a face that would have been a grimace on someone less dignified.
“Don’t ask. Call it an ill-fated expedition,†she said. Alandriel’s brows rose in interest, but she didn’t press the subject, instead handing Legyviel a glass of wine. The elf accepted it gratefully, took a sip and felt her melancholy mood abate ever so slightly. Feeling the tension from her shoulders loosen, she settled back in her chair and surveyed the ranger over the rim of her glass.
“Alandriel, why are we here?†she asked suddenly and softly. Alandriel’s eyes strayed to the window, and she spoke slowly, as if the effort of speech left her exhausted.
“I already told you,†she said. Legyviel shrugged.
“My thoughts were wandering. Tell me again,†she said. Alandriel sighed again and walked over to the window. She knew what Legyviel really wanted to hear, and hated confirming her fears.
“It’s just that…you should have seen their faces, Legyviel. It wasn’t just that they didn’t remember any of it…their faces were blank, devoid of any emotion or hope. It chilled me to look at them,†she said. Legyviel stood and removed her cloak, suddenly feeling a lot older than her 5000 years. Her silver-blue hair glinted in the light, as she walked over to the scroll Alandriel had been poring over. The heading caught her eye, and one long finger reached out and gently touched the map.
“It has only been a few years since I left that place…twenty at the most. Could so much have changed in such a short span of time?†she murmured. From across the room, she felt more than saw Alandriel’s smile.
“To one who is immortal, no doubt it feels but a minute; to us humans, however…. twenty years can be a long time,†she said. Legyviel sighed, and turned away from the words that were pulling at her heartstrings.
“Nonetheless…I said it before, and I will say it again. I would be glad to accompany you on this quest,†she said.
“Thank you,†Alandriel smiled tiredly, and quickly stifled a yawn apologetically. “It’s been a long day…†she murmured, rubbing her eyes. Legyviel watched her worriedly, and noticed once more that one of her shoulders was drooping a little. It wasn’t bleeding, but that didn’t mean the injury might not be serious.
“What happened to you there?†she asked, remembering the splash of blood on the carpet and pointing to the drooped shoulder. Alandriel paused mid-stretch and looked at it.
“Just a small wound…nothing too bad, but I’ll just have to be careful using that arm for a while,†she said. Legyviel wasn’t convinced, and very aware that they were both keeping a number of secrets from each other. Unspoken words hung in the air as she strode to the chair and picked up her cloak. Alandriel began to wrestle off her boots, but looked up, pausing with one boot in her hand, when she saw that the elf intended to leave.
“Legyviel, wait,†she said. Legyviel froze, not liking the tone of her voice. “Earlier in the common room…something happened to you. What was it?†this she said in a low voice, so softly that only the sharp ears of an elf could have heard her. Legyviel’s jaw clenched as she thought of the dark woman and her enchanted knight, then of the bard lying dead with a strange stone pulsing at her throat. Somehow, she did not want to burden Alandriel with her thoughts. Perhaps later I will tell her, but not right now she thought.
“You’re right, it has been a long night. It’s time I left you to your sleep,†she said, turning away. Instinctively, the ranger knew she was not to be questioned further.
“You have left me with much food for thought, Khelekwen. Good Night,†she said. Legyviel smiled slightly, but remembered something before she left.
“Oh, and I thought you might want to know… I heard two Haradrim talking together earlier on in the inn. I think they’re up to no good,†she said. Alandriel’s face hardened.
“What did they say?â€
“I do not know. The southern lands hold no interest for me, and I have met few of its people, much less learnt their language. I did however, catch the phrase Lodnoca Dah - Vatra Vetar. Mean anything to you?†from the frown on Alandriel’s face, it evidently did. Knowing the ranger would probably like to think over what she had learnt on her own, Legyviel bid her goodnight, goodbye and left to find her own room.