Faded Light

(For additional notes and disclaimers please see top of Chapter 1.)

At last I have again reached the end of part one...I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time review as well as anyone who just likes the story, especially those who found it during the time I've been reposting.

And I promise in part two Legolas will find his chance at escaping from Harad...
Happy reading.


Chapter 20
Fates


It had been two long days when the healer at last placed the slave’s newborn child in Prince Emau’s arms.

“It’s a healthy girl,” he said.

“And the Elf?”

“He has not fully regained consciousness since the attack...we had to deliver the child surgically so it may take some time for him to recover.

“I’ll find someone to care for the child in the meantime,” he offered. "There is a slave woman I know of...they say she is good with young children..."

“Speak with her then, and send her to me.”

The prince looked down sadly at the little half-elfling before making his way further into the healing tent and to her parent’s bedside.

It had not taken long to discover the assailant after Emau had found the battered Elf going into premature labor. But since it was only a slave whore, the man would suffer no harsher punishment than being sent home, which galled the prince to no end...

He had been sitting at the slave’s side in deep thought for some time when he heard his father’s voice.

“You should get some sleep, my son. Your own exhaustion will not aid him.”

The king glanced down to where Emau had laid the infant on the bed with her father and pulled aside the blanket to look at the child’s tiny fair face. She seemed to have taken little from whatever Man had sired her except for a patch of thick black hair. Every other feature, to the pale blue eyes, glazed over at the moment in elven sleep, was a miniature version of her elven father.

“I hear Mena has offered to take the babe in place of Dafi,” said the prince by way of question.

‘He has.”

“And...?”

“Now, why should I choose to be cruel when there is no need for it?” said the king.

“I refused his offer. Though you must realize we can hardly afford to alienate the priests. There will have to be some arrangement made with Mena.”

“What about Arya?”

“Let us just say this is the most expensive whore I have ever paid for...”

“You bought him?” Though all knew the king fancied the elf, Emau had never known his father to buy a common brothel slave. The king’s varied harems, for he found pleasure in females nearly as much as males, were made up almost entirely of new slaves he had purchased in the markets or noble prisoners given him as gifts.

And he again wondered at Behdad’s intent in having wanted to give the slave to the king; though it appeared in one way or another the Dark Lord’s purpose would be served...

“I have merely done what pleases me.” The king lightly brushed aside a strand of golden hair from the Elf’s pale face. “And you know well that I had to offer up some of my best slaves as part of the price for Khand's support. Besides,” he said, “although Arya will doubtless enjoy his new wealth, I know what he truly wanted was the Elf. His disappointment is reason enough I think.

“I know you would have seen the slave freed. But that I cannot do. Despite what he did for you, my son...”

“I understand,” conceded the prince. “At least, he will be better off in your service than in Arya’s."

For the first time in days the youth found something to smile about. “And I think I will sleep much better this night knowing Arya thwarted at least a little.”


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Leralonde had hardly stopped moving from the moment the two letters came from Rivendell; one to the king from Lord Elrond, the other, a more personal one from Saelbeth’s cousin, Erestor.

Both containing the same heartrending news; Saelbeth’s small party had been set upon by Orcs several days form Rivendell. Only Saelbeth and one guard, Hanan, had survived, the advisor only barely. Nowhere was there a mention of the child.

The prince had set off almost at once, ignoring Ruthlagor’s irrational objections that he could not leave at a moment’s notice.

His father’s attitude of late had been very peculiar. Leralonde could not get more than two words out of him much less any real answer. But he had had no time to dwell on it, as he had set out for Rivendell with only his uncle’s approval and a few especially chosen warriors.

Rushing through the healing wing of Lord Elrond’s home now, he almost ran straight into Erestor, who was closing a door behind him.

“Erestor...I came as soon as I could…how is he?” his eyes flitted to the closed door. “Is he...?”

“He lives, and still carries the child...

“But we do not know what damage there may be from the Orcs’s poison,” Elrond’s ever-serene advisor went on. "This will be difficult, and the child may still not survive.

"Saelbeth does not know yet.”

“May I see him?”

“He did not want me to send for you, Highness. He does not wish to see anyone.

“It is the shock...he’s not thinking rationally…”

Erestor paused for several moments, taking time to choose his words. "You are a warrior, Leralonde...you have seen the savage deeds Orcs commit upon elves, or anyone, unlucky enough to be taken by them alive..."

The youth nodded silently, not needing or daring to ask about the things that had befallen his beloved...

"Too often have I seen it.

"Saes...Erestor,” he entreated, “there is much in my life of which I am uncertain, except that I cannot bear to be parted from him...”

The dark-haired advisor nodded in understanding and stepped aside. “Only for a few minutes. And know he will be angry with us both.” He smiled, “Although he’s heavily sedated, so you should survive."

The crown prince walked carefully into the darkened room, to find his lover resting on a mound of pillows, his eyes closed, which sent a momentary wave of fear through his heart.

But as he came closer he could see the rise and fall of the other Elf’s slow breathing. One bandaged arm rested at his side, another heavy bandage covering part of his face below an eye that was almost swollen shut; the advisor’s fair face had gone almost white, and his golden brown hair...it looked like it had been hacked, or ripped, away; in places, it was almost completely gone while short uneven strands remained in others.

His eyes suddenly fluttered open as the prince took a chair near the bed. “Londe?” he whispered, surprised to find the prince at his side. “I told Erestor not to send for you.”

“Erestor did not send for me,” he lied. “Lord Elrond wrote my uncle to tell him what happened.” He took his lover’s uninjured hand and felt a gentle squeeze in response, as Saelbeth tried to keep his composure.

“You should not have come anyway,” he said, wincing as he turned his face away, his eyes closing again. “Besides, I have always been able to tell when you’re lying, Highness.”

The prince soothingly brushed the back of his lover’s hand. “Did you really think anything would keep me away, Meleth Nin.”

“I did not want you to see me like this...” he pulled his hand out of the prince's and reached up to almost touch the bandage before he quickly dropped his hand again.

“Sael, scars heal, and even if they did not, it would not matter.”

“You think not?” he laughed bitterly which quickly turned in painful coughing; when it calmed there were tears in his eyes.

“Just go,” he whispered. “Understand...it is too painful...let me be...let me fade in peace...”

“Saes, do not say that.” He gently turned his lover’s face to look at him again and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his brow, mindful of his injuries. “Do you really think that I would leave you, meleth nin...

“...or our child...”

“I have not sensed the child since the Orcs..." he shook his head despairingly. "There is only pain...

"Elrond and Erestor won’t say it, but there's something wrong...it is most likely that the child won’t..." his voice broke and he could not bear to look at his lover, "...diheno nin meleth...”

“Saelbeth, look at me.” He gently brushed away the new tears that fell over his lover’s cheek and kissed his hand. “There is nothing to forgive. It is the Orcs who did this; it is no fault of yours.

"And we do not know what may happen," he added before Saelbeth could say anything, laying a hand lightly on his lover's stomach. "If she is as strong willed as is her birthright, she won't be easily overcome..."

"She?" he gazed curiously at the prince.

"You are a dreamer, highness, but you are not practical. A daughter will not keep Esarulir from putting Ethiel and Glaerwen on the throne...and Ruthlagor..."

The prince struggled to keep his voice down in the face of Saelbeth's unflinching sense of duty. "It is time that I stopped hiding from everyone in Mirkwood who might disapprove of what I do and with whom, including my father...I don't care about Ethiel or Esarulir or Adar...not right now...

"At this moment all I care about is in this room...even if I must give up the crown to my brother..."


TBC...


Elvish Translations:


Meleth Nin / my love

Saes / Please

Diheno Nin / Forgive me