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Old 03-07-2005, 05:21 PM   #325
Ealasaide
Shadow of Tyrn Gorthad
 
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Benia

Benia gave the phial a long look, then handed it back to Gilly. "To sleep, perchance to dream," she said softly. "But, I wonder, would it be a sleep of death?" She paused to close Gilly's fingers around Léspheria's phial, remembering the thoughts she had once harbored regarding the use of poison on Ferny. No, she would not resort to poison, not even on herself should things come to such a point.

Gilly took the phial, all the while trying to read the expression in Benia’s eyes. "It is but a sleeping potion," she assured Benia. "In fact, I’m sure of it. Miss Léspheria is not the sort to be trafficking in poisons. You know that."

Distracted by the clash of swords just out of their sight, Benia nodded, looking in the direction from whence the sounds echoed. "Yes, you are right," she admitted. "Of course, you are right. But it was given to you. Please keep it to use as you see fit. Perhaps, poor Toby may have need of it."

Seeing Benia’s attention so divided, Gilly nodded and tucked the phial away into her pocket. "Yes, he may at that."

"In the meantime," Benia added, looking down at the grievously wounded hobbit, her gaze lingering over the blood-soaked bandage on his shoulder. "He is deathly pale. Perhaps we should give him a draught from the other phial. Here, I will lift him up." Benia crouched and gently lifted Toby’s head and shoulders that Gilly might administer the elven healing potion.

"How much should I give him?" asked Gilly with uncertainty.

"I don’t know," answered Benia, with a slight shake of her dark head. "Perhaps only a few drops at first? While I have very little experience with elven potions, I understand that they can be quite strong."

"Perhaps a teaspoonful to start," said Gilly, bending over the barely conscious hobbit. She uncorked the dainty phial and poured as close to a teaspoonful of medicine as she could figure between Toby’s waxen lips. Almost instantly, the color began to seep back into his face. His breathing grew less labored. Benia sighed with relief and lowered him back down upon the grass, glancing again in the direction of Dúlrain and the fighting. Gilly held out Jack Nightshade’s sword, its hilt toward Benia.

"Go," the hobbit lady told Benia rather firmly. "I will take care of Toby now."

"Thank you," said Benia quietly. She took the sword firmly in her right hand. With her left, she squeezed Gilly’s shoulder. "I shall be right back. We shall be right back, Dúlrain and I." She gave Gilly a final, resolute smile and ran out of the sheltering hollow. Immediately, she caught sight of the two men locked in battle.

"No!" she cried as Ferny raised his weapon and charged a flagging Dúlrain. She quickened her pace, believing that she must get there before Ferny’s blow fell, but in her heart she knew the distance was too much. She could never get there in time to help the ranger. As she watched, Dúlrain suddenly made a graceful pivot to his left and threw out his sword. Ferny’s own momentum carried him on to the blade. Benia flinched as Naiore’s odious henchman crumpled over in death, his blood painting the pale green of the meadow grass a deep crimson. She arrived at Dúlrain’s side just as the ranger sank to his knees in exhaustion, resting his forehead on the pommel of his sword. She hesitated, making a soft noise in her throat.

Hearing the whisper of her skirts amongst the now silent grasses, Dúlrain slowly looked up. Seeing Benia, he smiled despite his pain and pushed himself to his feet. She dropped her father’s sword and went to him, helping him to rise. At the same time, she tried to search him for any sign of injury or new wounds. Finding nothing, she threw her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. The intensity of her relief left her temporarily mute. He was safe.

"I am well, but what about you?" he whispered, pulling back from her slightly to cup her face with his free hand. He frowned as his touch on the darkening bruise to her cheek caused her to wince.

"You are safe," murmured Benia, the only words she could find. "Oh, thank eru, you are safe."

Dúlrain smiled gently. "Yes, I am more or less in one piece, but I must know - did this villain harm you? I see he has struck you, but has he hurt you in any other way?"

Benia shook her head. "No, no, I am fine." She leaned her cheek once again into his chest, comforted by the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "He hit me a few times here and there, but otherwise has done me no damage."

Dropping his sword, Dúlrain closed his arms around Benia, holding her closely, but Benia could tell that his gray eyes looked beyond her, searching the distant trees.

"Thank eru," he said at last. "You, too, are safe. And Mrs. Banks? Toby?"

Benia sighed and released him from her embrace. She bent down and picked up the swords they had both dropped, handing him his. "Gilly is fine," she answered gravely. "But Toby is in a bad way. Gilly is doing what she can for him."

Benia waited as Dúlrain sheathed his sword and collected the jeweled companion sword from where Ferny lay. Then, she took his hand and began to lead him back in the direction of Gilly’s and Toby’s hiding place, still somewhat at a loss for words. So many thoughts and emotions swirled through her mind that she found herself unable to express anything verbally. Instead, she curled her fingers tightly through Dúlrain’s and rejoiced quietly at the return pressure of his touch. Leading him back toward where Gilly and Toby waited, Benia found there was one thing that she did need to talk about. Stopping abruptly, she turned toward Dúlrain and looked searchingly into his eyes.

"Is it true what Ferny said?" she asked. "Is Kaldir really dead?"

Dúlrain’s expression darkened visibly. He nodded. "Yes, it is true. He lies back in Imladris."

"How did he go?"

A pained look overtook the ranger’s handsome features, but no answer came.

Benia reached out and touched his face. She needed no further explanation, although a single question remained. "Is he at peace?"

Dúlrain nodded. "He is. Or he will be when his death has been avenged." A cold fire flashed through his eyes that reminded Benia too much of the hatred that had always risen in Kaldir’s blue eyes at the mention of Naiore Dannan. She shuddered, feeling the blood drain from her face.

"No, Dúlrain," she said desperately. "He must not be avenged. Please let the bloodshed stop here. That elf is poison. She nearly destroyed Kaldir with hatred. Please do not let her do the same to you. Leave her to Amandur and the others. I couldn’t bear it if she destroyed you as well."

Dúlrain’s jaw set stubbornly and, for a moment, he said nothing. When he finally spoke, there was an edge to his voice that Benia had never heard before. "I agree, Naiore Dannan is poison," he said. "But she was the ruin of my brother. His death must not go unanswered. I owe that much to him. If it is the last thing I do, I shall avenge his death."

Despairing, Benia sank to her knees. Putting her sword aside, she grasped both of Dúlrain’s hands in hers. "I beg you," she pleaded. "I beg you, don’t do this. I can see that evil creature has begun to poison your heart already with hatred. Please don’t let the poison take root."

Saying nothing, Dúlrain gazed down at her with a troubled expression. Benia could see the muscles tense along his jaw line.

"Please let it go," continued Benia. She placed her forehead against the back of his hand. "Kaldir gave his life to protect me. If you were to die as well, I could never forgive myself. How could I go on, knowing that my hands were colored not just with the markings of my heritage, but with the blood of not one, but two good men? I should die as well." She paused. "I believe that he would rather you walked away."

"How can you say that?" asked Dúlrain, his voice harsh with emotion. "How can you presume to know what was in Kaldir’s heart?"

Benia raised her face again, looking once more into Dúlrain’s eyes. "Did he ask you to avenge him?"

Slowly, the ranger shook his head. "No. His final thoughts were for you. He said that his death was a release."

"Then, I believe he was finished with vengeance. Did you know that he stood within range of striking Naiore down himself, but instead dropped his sword? If he had been wiling to sacrifice my life, he would have had his revenge." Benia released Dúlrain’s hands and dropped her eyes. The memory of those moments back in the enemy camp above Rivendell tore at her painfully. Sitting back on her heels, she hugged her elbows. "It is a debt I can never repay," she added softly. "But I hope to honor him by embracing life in his name. Not death. Please tell me that you can do the same. Please let the bloodshed stop here."

Emotionally drained, Benia waited quietly for Dúlrain’s response.

Last edited by Ealasaide; 03-16-2005 at 02:50 PM.
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