Chapter Eleven

Allaura smiled at the human ranger, who stood before her. “What do you think of them now that you see them in person?” She turned her head slightly to show off the earring fastened in her right ear. Holding the gold chain of the necklace between her thumb and forefinger, she dangled the blue pendant in front of his face.

“The painting doesn’t do them justice,” he replied in all honesty, as his eyes locked onto the dazzling blue stone.

Allaura twisted the chain in her fingers, causing the stone to spin slowly from side to side. The reflection criss-crossed the man’s face. When the sparkles settled in his eyes, she stopped its motion and held it still.

The strong light from the stone hurt the ranger’s eyes, but he was powerless to turn his head away. All sense of time and place began to fade from the Aragorn’s mind. He was aware of nothing but the swirl of blue he stared into, as he lost himself in its hypnotic depths.

“Tell me what you are thinking?” the woman asked, her voice barely above a whisper, seemingly fearful of breaking the connection between man and stone.

There was no reply from Aragorn. He stood motionless. Deep inside his mind a small voice was screaming a warning at him, but he couldn’t for the life of him think why. The pendant he stared at was many-faceted, carefully crafted and exquisitely beautiful, but basically it was just a crystaline rock. It could not harm him, so he ignored the warning.

To make sure that Aragorn was truly under the enchantment of the necklace, Allaura dug her fingernails into the ranger’s arm. Even through his sleeve the woman’s long nails would have been quite painful. When no reaction was forthcoming, Allaura nodded to herself. She knew he felt the pain she was inflicting, but his eyes remained locked on the blue stone. He was indeed caught firmly in the web she had woven.

“Come,” she told him, pulling him toward the bed by the same arm she had just left red marks on. “Remove your coat, shirt and boots.” The words were soft but held an edge that made it a clear command not to be disobeyed. His obedience would be further proof of the depth of the spell he was under.

Fleetingly Aragorn thought that he should be objecting to the order he had been given, but his mind by now was too numb to obey anything other than the woman’s voice. His own inner voice had become only so much gibberish that no longer meant anything to him.

Soon all but the man’s leggings sat in a pile around his feet. Allaura lifted the black satin sheets and the black quilt that lay on top. She said nothing but indicated with her free hand that he was to lie down.

He did so.

Allaura pulled the covers up to Aragorn’s chest and sat down on the side of the bed next to the ranger and leaned toward him. As she did so, the necklace fell onto his bare right shoulder. The feel of the jewel against his skin was both ice cold and searing hot at the same time. He moaned, which only seemed to excite Allaura. She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him on the mouth - hard. “It is time,” she whispered alluringly.

Aragorn pulled her to him and held her in a tight embrace. The necklace was pressed into his skin between their two bodies. He moaned again, but it was a sound born of pain not pleasure.

*~*~*~*

Legolas sat alone on the stone bench in the dark vault deep underground. He tried to convince himself that the darkness was caused by his tightly closed eyes and not the fact there was not so much as a speck of light in the room. Try as it might, the alert elven mind couldn’t talk itself into believing that idea. The fact he was gripping the edge of the bench with fingers that were close to hurting from the effort didn’t help matters any.

Like Aragorn, the elf thought that he and the ranger would not have been fed unless they were meant to be kept alive for some purpose. But for what purpose? He knew from past experience that there were far worse things in this world than dying. Legolas was not afraid of death, though the thought of doing it all alone down here in this place of stone was far more unnerving than any death on a battlefield he could imagine.

Legolas took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He realized it was not really the darkness that unsettled him so much as it was the loss of a connection with Nature. If he could only hear the song of the trees, the call of a bird of prey winging silently on the night wind, the rustle of small animal feet scurrying through the forest, the hum of insects or the sound of a bubbling stream. And the stars. Oh, how his heart ached to see the stars.

Legolas didn’t want to think about the fact that if the ranger were there, he would be saying soothing elvish words to the archer to ease his troubled mind.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about his own discomfort. It was Aragorn that mattered. Legolas was genuinely worried about the ranger.

He couldn’t begin to guess where his friend was or what was being done to him. The elf was fairly sure that whatever it was had to do with Allaura and possibly her husband, though he didn’t have enough information about the man yet to make that determination.

The prince’s thoughts were interrupted when the walls once again shook from a loud booming noise that clearly originated from above. Legolas’s eyes snapped open, but it was his ears that picked up the sound of stone dust falling from the ceiling, only this time the dust sounded more like tiny pebbles hitting the rocky floor at his feet.

He looked up and was rewarded with the finer dust falling directly into his eyes. He lowered his head and used both hands to try and dislodge the irritant from his eyes, which felt like they were full of sand, an appropriate description under the circumstances. Blinking rapidly along with the irritation brought enough tears to wash most of the dust away.

The noise that had preceded the dislodging of the stone on the ceiling was louder than it had been at any time before. Prudently Legolas hid his face in the crook of his right arm, effectively avoiding more dust in his eyes, when a second boom shook the room.

When silence once again dominated, Legolas looked up. “I do not believe it,” he said aloud, suddenly concluding what the noise must be. Was it possible?

While Legolas contemplated the implausible thought that had occurred ot him, the door to the vault opened. Dim light from the passageway poured across the floor. A lit torch came flying into the room, landing against the bench not far from where Legolas sat.

Grateful beyond belief, the elf grabbed the torch and quickly jumped onto the bench and set the torch into its holder on the wall before the guard, who had thrown it, could change his mind and take it back.

When Legolas jumped back down and turned around, his eyes went wide. Two of the guards were pushing Aragorn into the room. As soon as the man cleared the door, it was pulled shut and locked.

Even in the flickering light, the elf could see that Aragorn’s face was very pale. Legolas grabbed both of his friend’s arms and ran his eyes over the ranger’s body, front and back, looking for blood or any other sign of injury. “Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.

There was no answer. Legolas raised his head and looked into the man’s eyes. He saw a blank stare, devoid of recognition. “Estel?.” He shook the man gently. “Speak to me.”

The elf’s heart lurched to see that his friend did not seem to know him but continued to stare straight ahead. Legolas guided Aragorn to the bench, turned him around and sat him down. There had been no resistance to the move, but neither had there been any indication that the man knew what was being done to him.

Legolas lifted Aragorn’s right arm and let it drop. It fell limply to his side. “Oh, mellon nin, what have they done to you?”

Aragorn appeared - mindless. The very word scared the elf. Had Allaura, or her husband or whoever had held Aragorn in their power, somehow taken the man’s mind? No, the elf would not believe that. His friend had merely been put into some sort of trance. That was all. Legolas refused to think that anything more serious had been done to his friend. He tried not to think how bad that alone could end up being.

Legolas gripped the ranger’s shoulder, trying to impart a physical reassurance to him that the elf was there with him. When Aragorn moaned, Legolas frowned. He pulled the ranger’s coat and shirt down off of his shoulder and saw a round red mark that looked very much like a burn. “What is this?” He reached toward it, but stayed his hand before he could cause Aragorn any more pain.

There was no way to tell whether this burn mark had to do with Aragorn’s present condition or if it had been done purely as a means of imparting pain for its own sake. Either way, Legolas was furious.

After several more attempts to reach his friend’s mind, it became obvious that Aragorn was not going to simply snap out of this trance-like state by being talked out of it. Perhaps rest would be helpful. Legolas lay the ranger down on his side on the narrow bench, again receiving no resistance. He reached down and closed the open eyes that gazed blankly at the front wall.

Legolas sat down and leaned back against the wall, his hand resting lightly on Aragorn‘s head. He was not going to even think about seeking sleep until his friend woke up and was hopefully himself again. The elf didn’t know what he would do, if Aragorn did not come out of this.

*~*~*~*

Allaura once again sat at the dressing table in her bed chamber. This time she was putting the necklace and earrings back into the box she had removed them from earlier in the evening. They had served their purpose, for the time being anyway.

She took a deep breath, feeling stronger and more refreshed than she had in a long time. Her husband no longer provided her with what she needed to maintain herself. She had relied on him too many times. Such a pity. She didn’t really love him, of course, but she had once had feelings for him, certainly more so than for any other man she had known. That was why she had married him, well that and being able to get her hands on Ravenlore. But tonight had shown her that he was past his usefulness to her. He had not been able to give her anything. Never before had she been required to take another in the same week much less the same night.

Allaura should have known that he would wear out eventually. Humans were so puny. That was why she had hired Grath and his men to bring her fresh men, who were in the prime of their strength. This ranger was a perfect example. She had been thrilled to learn that he was one of the long-lived Dúnedain, and as such, he had given her a resurgence that she could barely remember from any time in the past.

However, the woman had to admit that her excitement was not just for the ranger. He had been invigorating, but he was not the one she truly wanted. The ranger had merely been a wonderful bonus. It was the elf she truly craved. Her anger at Grath for almost killing the fair being had known no bounds. That was why she had gone down into the lower level where Grath waited and had personally slit his throat. The guards would take care of the rest of his men.

The elf’s wounds had weakened him to the point that she dared not attempt to take him, because eager as she was, she was not willing to risk damaging him in any way.

Allaura laughed. Perhaps she had been a little hasty in killing Grath. After all, he had brought the captives to her, and now she not only had the delicious Dúnadan, but she still had the elf to look forward to. A shiver of excitement ran through her at the anticipation.

The elf would last much longer than any human ever could, possibly even forever, despite the demands she would place on the immortal body. And by carefully interchanging the two of them, she could have a life beyond her wildest dreams and certainly far better than any she had experienced up to now. Why had she not thought of the combination before now? Ah well, better now than never.

TBC