Brotherhood, A Story from the Last Alliance:RPG thread

[Daniel Telcontar]

Thelian:
Thelian felt uneasy as Arthain lay his hand upon his shoulder, but endured it. He did not wish to cause strife now when Melost had returned. So when the mortal touched Melost, Thelian allowed him to do so and helped him with raising the Elf to his feet. Yet as Melost shook their hands of him, Thelian removed his hold, thinking that Melost desired to walk by himself. He had not expected what happened next, though had he been more perceptive he would have; but his judgement was clouded by his joy.

But when Melost spoke, Thelian realised that something was greatly amiss, and was about to step forward and lay his hands on Melost again, wishing to lead him away from Arthain. But Melost had other plans. Startled by the agility shown by the ill Elf, Thelian watched as Melost leapt at Arthain, taking them all by surprise. Acting on instinct, Thelian rushed forward and restrained Melost, aided by the stranger Khalad. Although he held no great love for Arthain, something told Thelian that it was wrong to slay him like this; and he followed that thought, maintaining his grasp upon Melost even as Arthain spoke. "There shall be no such deaths today," Thelian proclaimed in response to Arthain. In the back of his head, a grim voice whispered to the Elf: "Death is too kind a judgement for you." He shivered slightly, and feared for himself; had his principles and morales been so shattered by this?

Khalad:
Khalad was bewildered at this as he made his way through the bushes to where he found the group assembled. Melost had told him naught of these persons, and he understood not what passed; though it was clear that some reunion took place. Between both friends and foes, it would seem. His bewilderment was not dispelled until Melost jumped at Arthain; although he knew not why the Elf attacked this man, he feared that Melost was not in his right mind and could not judge anything. So he jumped forward, preventing the Elf from accomplishing his deed.

Holding one arm, he looked at Thelian and wondered who he was; apparently someone dear to Melost from what Khalad had seen. And perhaps also someone of authority, Khalad thought, for the vision of Melost drawing his dagger and jumping at Arthain, had reminded him of what Vlad would do to Khalad. Clearing his throat, he spoke to Thelian: "Milord, danger is not over, and death may still come for us. A small band of outlaws are tracking our path, bent on killing not only me but also Melost. They are led by a man with only one eye, and he has another man and a woman with him." Khalad spoke quickly, suddenly fearing that any moment now Vlad would jump out of the bushes, cutting his throat. Thelian nodded to him, and replied: "I shall ensure they are prevented from achieving such a foul deed."

Thelian:
Looking at the young man, Thelian recognised him as a kinsman of Arthain and Dorlas, one of the Númeanoreans, despite the rags he wore. Although he was inclined to distrust him because of Arthain, he knew that he could not base his judgement of a people on one person. And Dorlas had proved to be of another sort. Perhaps I shall trust him, Thelian thought. "I shall ensure they are prevented from achieving such a foul deed."

As Thelian had spoken, he realised that he could not leave Melost alone. Looking around his gaze fell upon Dorlas and decided to give these Númenoreans the ultimate test of trust. "Dorlas," Thelian called softly, "you and this noble stranger will keep Melost in check; he is not himself, do not give him any chance to escape your grasp. I shall seek out my commander and acquire his aid."

When Dorlas had taken his place, Thelian turned around and walked quickly, almost running, until he found the very Elf that had sent him off on patrol. "Sir, I bring tidings. A small group of outlaws are headed this way, with the intention of killing a close servant of Gil-galad. My information comes from one who has escaped their clutches," Thelian said, almost tripping over his own tongue in his rush. He conveniently forgot to mention who the servant was. The commander searched his eyes for a moment, in doubt; but at last he was convinced, and summoned up a group of Elven soldiers. "Thelian, lead them to these outlaws and deal with them. Spare their lives if you can, we may extract useful information from them. Though do not let them escape!" Thelian bowed and exited the tent, followed by the soldiers.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Standing, Arthain's expression was agonised as he looked into the elf's hateful eyes, boring into him with their venom. He hung his head, closing his eyes tight, then looked up again, to Dorlas and this new, ragged man holding Melost.

The elf's jaw was tight as he glared at the soldier, each of the other men ready to grab an arm if he attempted to jump again. But Arthain walked towards the man who had been his best friend, his head slightly turned to one side as he sought the right words. As Arthain drew to be level with the other, Melost drew back and spat at Arthain. The man drew back only slightly from it, his eyes closed: he knew the elf well, had anticipated it. When he opened his eyes again, the elf still bore that hateful glare, his mouth set in a snarl.

"You deserve to die," he whispered acidly.

Arthain felt his eyes burn as he knew it was the truth, remembering everything.

"How can you live? How?" Melost's voice was slowly rising, and the last word was almost a shout as the elf struggled against the other two. The unknown Numenorean pushed Arthain back out of the way, but he came back, his face a few inches from Melost's.

"I don't know!" he yelled back. "I don't know! You think this is life? Melost, not a moment goes by when I do not remember you, remember some deed we did together, some time you saved my life or I yours - do you remember too, Melost? Remember all the battles fought? I bear the scars and so do you, and I cannot think of you or look at them without...every time it happens I pray to any god that might be watching that time could go back and none of this could have happened!" The pent up anger of the past weeks was flowing out now and tears were in Arthain's dark blue eyes, making them glistening, dark slits, threatening to overflow.

"Then why did you do it? You betrayed me, Arthain, and no doubt you have betrayed me ever since-"

"No! I have done nothing of the sort, Melost, nothing - never, never since that day, that damnable day!" Arthain fell to his knees, grabbing Melost's hand, still holding the dagger, which the elf drew back as if the man was unclean.

"So kill me, Melost! Do it, if you cannot forgive me, for death I will take gladly and justly for release from this pain - I would rather take whatever truly lies for such a sinner in the afterlife than live a second more knowing that you cannot forgive me!" He grabbed the dagger, placing it at his own throat, his eyes flooding with tears and he stared up at Melost. "Do it!" he yelled brokenly.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Dorlas...

Dorlas had watched the discussion between Melost and Arthain long enough. "Hold him!" Dorlas hissed at the ragged man, who obliged and grasped both of Melost's shoulders. Dorlas moved quickly to Arthain and pulled the knife gently from its place at his master's neck. "No, Arthain. They would slay Melost if he drew your blood, just as they would do you if you drew his. You know this," Dorlas' voice was scarcely above a whisper as he pulled Arthain up from his knees and took the knife from the hands of Melost or Arthain.

"Then let me do it myself, Dorlas!" Arthain cried, tears streaming silently as the man choked on his words. Dorlas couldn't believe what he was hearing. What had happened to the Arthain he'd known? How could a bond like the one with Melost tear the once strong man apart from the inside, no matter how invisible it was? Dorlas' expression glazed over with new determination. I'm not going to lose Arthain the way Thelian lost Melost.

"Arthain!" Dorlas scolded as a mother would to her misbehaving child. "Don't be foolish. You were not meant to die at your own hand. Peace!" Turning to Melost and retreating to his former spot next to the stranger called Khalad, Dorlas sighed and looked to Arthain. "I don't think you should be here, near Melost, Arthain. We can't have you any more hurt or distracted before battle than you already are."

[Cuthalion]

"Thelian!" Melost cried as he saw his kinsman running to set the guard after the outlaws, after the people who had harboured him...

Clear...it was all clear now, as clear and hard and sharp as a cut crystal shard. He was the cause of the pain, the anxiety, the torment of everyone who had remotely cared for him. Because Melost hadn't been in his right mind when he met Vlad, he and his people were now going to be hunted down...because he had run from the pain of betrayal rather than confronting it...because his sense of duty had made his beloved Anwenelme seek the arms of another...because he could never refuse his king. All of this was his fault.

With a cry, he flung the dagger away and covered his face. How was he even able to stand in Arthain's presence? He had tried to kill the man whom he had saved many times over and who had saved him as well. Why? Because he was in pain, because he was suffering! What of Arthain? Had he sufffered as well? As though in answer, strong arms went around him and held him close. "Melost...mellon...I thought you were...that you had died." He held Melost away from him and looked directly at him. "Are you here, at the end of things? Have you come to die with me?"

Melost pulled him close, crushing him to his chest, trying to make him seem real. He couldn't speak, he could only weep at the truth in Arthain's words. He had indeed returned, not to rejoice in their reunion, but to slay him...now both objectives were impossible. Now they could only hope to survive the horror that awaited them. Arthain stroked Melost's hair, trying to quiet him. As he did so...he told him how the main body of the army had already been dispatched to the south and east. Only a few small companies had been left behind in the rear guard. Arthain told him how he had hoped against all odds to see his friend again, and he was very careful to steer clear of Anwenelme and the child. He cringed even as the thought entered his mind and he drew away from Melost as his breathing calmed at last. "Forgive..." "Melost, no...no apologies. It is I who owes you one...more than one!"

Dorlas stood to one side, both amazed and embarrassed as he witnessed two friends when all hope had vanished. Was there actually a chance? Was this an omen?

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Forgive..."

Arthain felt a twist of guilt, like a knife in his stomach, as his friend began the proposterous sentence and a flash image of Anwanelme entered his mind. "You carry this man's child..."

"Melost, no...no apologies," he interrupted. "It is I who owes you one...more than one!" he added, looking away. Melost did not seem to notice overly much though and Arthain drew in a deep breath, holding his friend away, a hand on each of his shoulders as he looked into his friend's eyes, drawing the elf's eyes to his own.

"Melost, tomorrow we go to battle, and...I doubt I will come back, doubt even that I could." His eyes flickered away momentarily as he said the shameful sentence, but Melost did not interrupt: with a slight lurch, Arthain realised Melost felt the same. Neither of them expected to come back, for what had they to come back to... "And so we have much to do - Dorlas," he turned to his squire, more business-like, the captain once again (in mind even if not in rank). "Dorlas, please run to Gil-Galad - tell him an honoured soldier has returned to us."

Melost smiled slightly, a hint of wryness around his lips. "Honoured soldier? I fear not, for I have kept some odd company over these past few days-"

"Then you must tell me about it, if you will, old friend. Come, we will break our fast." With a sense of his world righting itself even so late, Arthain was actually able to smile. Strange, that you know you will not come back tomorrow, that you will face death itself, yet you smile. But what did tomorrow matter: today Melost had returned, and for now, that as more than Arthain could ever have hoped for. That was more than enough.

[Daniel Telcontar]

Thelian:
As Thelian and the Elves following him advanced through the shrub and bushes in the forest, they slowed down their pace and used their skills in stealth instead. They had followed the path that Melost and the two men had taken, tracing it backwards, assuming that they would then sooner or later meet those pursuing Melost and the Men. Though they had been searching for a while and still no sign, and now the cover of the trees disappeared; they had reached the edge of the forest.

Thelian doubted there could be many groups travelling in these times that fitted the description given to him by the young man: 2 men and 1 one woman, the leader having only 1 eye. But he also doubted that the group would peacefully await as a group of Elven soldiers approached them; so rather than continue the tracking, the Elves positioned themselves and kept a vigilant watch on the surroundings, awaiting any signs or movements. Finally one of the Elves whispered to Thelian, and pointed in the direction which had caught his attention. Thelian smiled grimly and then motioned for the other Elves to follow him.

Khalad:
Khalad looked upon Melost and those he obviously knew from his past. He doubted that his aid was needed anymore, since it did not seem like Melost harboured any more thoughts of slaying the other man who had been ready to embrace death. Khalad realised that this left him open to go through with his plan now: seek out the other Númenoreans and redeem himself through battle, and open the way for him to return home.

He believed some camp to be nearby with Númenorean soldiers, from what he could deduce from Arthain and Dorlas' appearances. Khalad was not sure of what to say, how to explain himself to the commander of his kinsmen, if he should be completely honest, or merely state that he wished to join the battle. Before he was finished contemplating this, his gaze fell upon Fidrohir and Khalad realised that the man had followed him and Melost, and Khalad was still in some way responsible for him rather than simply abandoning him here. Approaching him Khalad whispered: "I take my leave now, and I will seek to join the battle that is underway; but my time is short for it may very well already have begun. If you wish, I do not doubt that another warrior would be turned aside; if you have no wish for war, then take your leave of all of us and disappear to whatever place you desire."

[Cuthalion]

Melost heard Khalad talking to Fidrohir and turned, his heart remorse-filled. Taking his leave of Arthain, he strode to where the tall young man stood, talking to his comrade. "Khalad!" he said, raising his voice urgently, "There is no need, unless you wish it, that you should seek out the Men of Elendil. Indeed, I fear he and my own lord, Gil-galad may already be engaged in battle. Both of you are welcome to join us if such be your will. Come! Meet my dearest friend, Arthain." He led the way over to where several men who had been Arthain's nominal guard were busy fixing breakfast before breaking camp and heading with the rest of the rear-guard to the battle-field.

"Arthain, this is Khalad and this, Fidrohir. They are part of a gang of outlaws that saved my life." Arthain rose and brushed his hands off, then held out his hand to both of them, clasping theirs gratefully. "I honour you both in this time of need, and for saving my friend. " He smiled grimly, "Although, under the circumstances, you may have saved him only for a time." Arthain turned his head and Melost met his gaze unflinchingly. "Aye, Arthain, my heart forbodes that my end is near, yet to die with you is all I can ask for."

As they spoke, there came to their ears the sound of angry swearing and cursing. Both Khalad and Fidrohir snapped their heads to where a small group of Elves surrounding three people came through the woods to the camp. Upon seeing Melost, Vlad stopped in his tracks and spat on the ground. "Lord Melost is it? How long have you planned this? How much did you get for the price on our heads?" He was all but growling he was so angry. Arthain came and stood between Melsot and the outlaw leader, sword drawn. "You know nothing of what you speak! This is the finest friend a man could have! He has saved my life many times, as I have saved his and I will hear not one word against him!" He was trembling as he faced Vlad. He was not about to lose Melost again.