Festering Darkness

Help from a Stranger

__Legolas' Point of Veiw__

The rain poured, soaking through my cloak and into my clothes. The hazy lights of an Inn flickered on the far side of the deserted street. I normally would avoid those places, but I was exhausted and chills wracked my body each time the wind blew.

I came to stand before the doorway, images of what happened last time replaying in my mind. I took a deep breath. This isn't then. Then was ten years ago in a completely different town.

My wet, trembling hands pushed the wooden door open and I stepped into the familiar smell of wine with only a touch of smoke. It smelled like familiar, for a moment. Then the smell of smoke, thick and unpenetrable flooded my mind and my stomach flipped. I clenched the hilt of my sword, grounding myself as I moved towards the bar.

"Can I help you?" the bartender asked, looking up from her work of pouring a glass and handing it to one of the men seated further down.

I nodded and moved to sit beside the man. "Wine, please. As well as a room for the night."

"Coming right up!" she answered and reached down below the counter. She handed me a set of keys and told me my room would be upstairs, the third door on the right. I thanked her as she placed a glass of wine before me. I drank, slowly allowing the room and the liquid to warm me and starve off the chills that had plagued me. It worked, mostly, and just as I finished the drink and was about to retire, the man spoke.

"You're not from around here are you?"

Unsure how to answer, I shook my head. "No, just passing through."

He nodded, taking another sip. "Piece of advice, don't go south. Reports have come in of spiders rampaging that area. It's not as safe as it once was. The elves don't come down that far anymore."

His eyes lingered for a moment when he mentioned my people, and I swallowed at the reminder of them. I pushed the feeling aside and thanked him with a forced smile before heading up to my rooms. I knew I would hear of my people from time to time if I stayed in the area, but it still made my chest hurt.

I left for a reason, I reminded myself. Someone had to look out for the people outside of the border. I knew that adar knew that too, we simply couldn't spare the personnel. My own thoughts made me laugh. That wasn't the real reason and I knew it. I was simply too much a coward to handle the truth.

I squeezed my eyes shut as low cry left my lips. I longed to go back. I longed to drink a glass of wine with my Adar and discuss war strategies. But I couldn't. If I did, I would be sent away again.

The thought of the spiders toyed with my mind as I laid upon the bed. Perhaps I could talk him into letting me go back into the field if I could take a few of them out myself, maybe not lead, but fight nonetheless. I had been doing that with Beorn anyway. It wasn't uncommon for a veteran to step down and hand the responsibility to someone younger. I glanced over to the bow propped up beside the door.

My thoughts went back to the Shapeshifter. I left in a frenzy. I shouldn't have treated him the way I had. He saved my life more than once.

I let out a breath and stared at the ceiling. The cold began to creep in as the wind gushed against the building. I pulled myself up and started the fire in the fireplace. The cold never used to bother me like this. I pushed the thought away and laid back down, allowing exhaustion to settle and pull me into sleep.

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Nightmares plagued my sleep and I woke, gasping for breath, sweat sticking my nightshirt to my skin. I sat up, scanning my surrounding, waiting for an orc or spider to jump out at me. Nothing. There was nothing. I was in an inn just outside of Mirkwood. I was safe.