Eliad stepped inside of the inn and looked around. Seeing at least one familiar, friendly face, he made his way up the stairs to lean against the doorway.
“Good eve,” greeted Eliad, addressing Demlemoth.
“Why, we might give it a closer look together in the morning,” said a man that seemed to be of a Gondorian noble. “As for my… Hmf, other business, I’ve simply been making some inquiries. Well, not personally for the most part. Unfortunately those that I’ve met haven’t been very forthcoming.”
Demlemoth adjusted the dagger sheathes on his arms. Now that his cloak was off, the myriad of whip scars could be seen on his arms.
“And here I thought you’d have something of interest to tell me,” said a woman in a red dress.
“I do have a few things, you’ll find,” said the man. “Although, it would be better we spoke of it privately.”
“Fair evening to you, young lord,” greeted Demlemoth, nodding at Eliad. “How far yea on this cold and blustery evening?”
“Hm, very well,” said the woman.
Eliad blushed a little at the title before clearing his throat.
“I swear, Avilina started it and now it’s a trend for jesting…,” said Eliad. “Though I’ve been well. What of you though? You seem like you are ready for combat. Did I happen to miss something?”
“Would you join me in the back rooms for a moment?” asked the man.
“May as well,” said the woman. “Hakir, wait here.”
“Then do come along,” said the man. “Away from the braggart.”
Eliad watched as the two people pass by them.
“Contract for someone in the inn,” answered Demlemoth. “I am here…as usual to prevent her from being killed.”
“The one that passed by?” frowned Eliad.
“Much to my dismay,” answered Demlemoth. “But Barly wishes no contract fu…”
He then spoke in a foreign language that Eliad did not know, looking towards someone.
“She sounds like one to be quite a hassle…,” said Eliad. “Are you sure you’re fine with this?”
“Barliman wishes no contracts fulfilled in his inn,” replied Demlemoth. “Would be bad for business.”
“True…,” said Eliad. “Who wouldn’t think so..?”
“And I do have a vested interest in the bar continuing to be busy,” added Demlemoth.
“I suppose…,” said Eliad. “Though, I wish you luck…”
Demlemoth looked elsewhere again from his slitted eyes, speaking in the foreign language again. It was only this time that Eliad had heard who he was talking to.
“My lord does not desire for this…tongue to be spoken,” said a man’s voice.
“So I am right,” smirked Demlemoth. “You are a slave, not a servant.”
“I am a servant of Lord Anedir,” said the man.
“And are you happy?” asked Demlemoth.
Eliad raised a brow before moving his body to look at the man now. In his eyes, he looked as if he could be Haradrim.
“Him..?” muttered Eliad toward Demlemoth.
“He is a servant of a Gondorian piece of slime,” replied Demlemoth, shaking his head at Eliad.
“That’s…sad…,” muttered Eliad.
The man paused for a moment, searching the words.
“I am…privileged to serve my lord,” said the man haltingly.
“Privileged,” frowned Demlemoth. “Does that translate to he holds a threat over your family?”
Eliad crossed his arms, frowning in concern.
“My family serves our lords,” replied the man. “It is a great honour.”
“What do you feel then?” asked Eliad. “What do you feel personally, not your family?”
“That is how my father used to get cheap labor,” said Demlemoth, looking at Eliad. “Translated to free actually, by making the Haradrim believe it was an honor to work themselves as slaves. He was particularly fond of raping their women behind closed doors so the men folk never knew. They were sworn to secrecy by used of threatening the lives of their loved ones.”
The man looked up toward Eliad with a small frown in thought, whether it was difficulty with the language or searching his feelings, causing the pause.
“I am privileged to serve,” said the man. “They are a great lords.”
“Gondorian Nobles are worth that and no more,” said Demlemoth, spitting on the floor.
“And to think back home was bad as well…,” said Eliad. “Look… Whoever you are, you don’t deserve this. You deserve to speak your own mind. If you can’t say it, just express it.”
“Will you be whipped if the wench tells your lord to do so?” asked Demlemoth, returning his attention to the man.
The man stiffened, widening his eyes a little.
“Please, be respectful of my lord,” said the man hesitantly. “He is unworthy of such words.”
Eliad heard of tapping of feet and a whistle. However, his mind was reeling due to the current situation.
“No one…deserves to be a servant,” said Eliad, glancing down. “Or slave…
Demlemoth smirked at Eliad before glancing at someone.
“You doing okay, lad?” asked Demlemoth.
The man bowed his head further, letting his dark hair fall down to cover his face.
“If you can’t speak your own damn mind without having to bring up whoever you ‘serve’ under, what’s the point of being human?” asked Eliad, gritting his teeth as he gripped his left arm with his right hand.
He heard Demlemoth speak the foreign language once more.
“Please, do not speak that tongue,” said the man.
Eliad heard someone whisper to him but he dared not look around.
“In Bree, you are not beat for speaking in any language you wish,” said Demlemoth.
Eliad gripped his left arm tighter, shutting his eyes tightly.
“My lord was very clear he does not desire for me to speak it,” said the man. “It is an ugly tongue.”
It was then that Eliad felt as if he would snap.
“Ugly..?” repeated Eliad.
“It is ugly because he never learned it,” laughed Demlemoth, looking at Eliad afterward. “The smart nobles in Gondor know the languages of the Haradrim. Do you know why?”
Due to the rising anger, Eliad blocked out the voices save for the man.
“You don’t even know what is truly ugly,” said Eliad. “Your tongue, whatever it may be, isn’t ugly at all. It’s who you are as a person. It’s what you’re born with.”
The man paused for a moment, his words coming out quickly.
“I know this tongue,” said the man. He corrected, but soon regretted it judging by his expression. “It is unworthy in the presence of my lords.”
“Screw the lords!” shouted Eliad, saying in a harsher tone that he planned. “Anyone who lies about themselves disgust me.”
“Because then they know when their Haradrim slaves are planning to revolt and can yet again beat them down,” came Demlemoth’s words. “I see no challenge in matching wits with a noble such as him.”
The man winced at Eliad’s words, speaking much more lowly this time.
“Please, be respectful,” said the man.
He then quieted down again.
“For the sake of the poor man, until he is ready, we shouldn’t push,” said Demlemoth in a low voice. “He may find the whip painful.
Eliad took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Is this…what she had worked on to protect..?” asked Eliad. “I need…to get some fresh air… Please do excuse me…”
“It does rather reek in here tonight,” said Demlemoth, nodding.
Eliad bowed his head before making his way outside of the inn, avoiding eye contact with everyone. He walked down the steps to stand by the small fountain.
“Rough day?” came a familiar voice.
“This place…,” said Eliad. “This…current time… It’s too corrupt.”
“I agree,” replied Zayotell, then attempted to cheer Eliad up. “Hey! Look! I put on your present!~”
Eliad glanced down at his reflection in the water. Apparently, he was too upset.
“Why..?” asked Eliad. “Why is it that she had left me to see this happening..?”
“Who, friend?” asked Zayotell.
“My mother…,” answered Eliad.
“I see…,” said Zayotell. “Well… Wanna hear my advice?”
“What advice is there..?” asked Eliad.
Zayotell threw his hood back and plopped himself on the edge of the fountain.
“Grab what you can,” said Zayotell. “When there’s a storm that hits so hard it knocks you off your feet, you can’t grab to something grounded. So grab something that you’d like to move with you. It, inevitably, will make it better!~”
Eliad clenched the fountain tightly, looking at his reflection.
“That’s your problem, Eliad,” said Zayotell, tilting his head at Eliad. “You think you can just make things better. Who knows? You might. But if you chose to go on a journey, even with friends, with the end goal of finishing something yourself… Well…” He paused and spoke from seemingly an experienced standpoint. “I’ll tell you right now, it doesn’t go the same way as it does in the books.”
“I will change things…,” said Eliad. “I must…”
“I never said you didn’t,” said Zayotell. “I’m just saying that you can’t cut a tree down without a hatchet. Let yourself be helped, buddy.”
Eliad closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure.
“One more thing…,” said Zayotell. “Finishing something…feels a hellova lot better when you don’t have to do it alone. Just to think on.”
Zayotell hopped off from the fountain before going inside with that said. Eliad opened his eyes before letting out a soft sigh. He did his best to keep his composure before breaking out in tears.
“Eliad…?” came another voice.
“Stay away…,” muttered Eliad through his tears.
Cloud slowly moved close to him, whispering as softly as she could.
“Y-Your funky looking friend told me to come out…when he came back in…and check on you,” said Cloud.
Eliad clenched to the stone tightly, his body could easily be shown that he was trembling. Cloud moved to his side and gently began to rub his arm.
“Eliad…,” said Cloud.
“Stay away from me…,” muttered Eliad, choking on his words.
“No,” said Cloud, shaking her head a bit.
Eliad looked at her, having an almost cold and feral expression.
“I said stay away!” shouted Eliad.
Perhaps then Father will be proud of you still for showing your true colours.
He took a deep breath, covering his hands with his face. Cloud backed up before moving closer again, grabbing his face with her hands.
“I am not going to treat you like an animal!” exclaimed Cloud.
Eliad pulled back from her hands, taking a few deep breaths as he was doing his best to contain himself.
“Lords…,” said Eliad. “Ladies… I hate them all!”
Cloud followed him, grabbing a hold of him again.
“You don’t have to like them…,” said Cloud. “Forget them… You don’t have to let them in…”
Eliad moved to rest a hand on his forehead, the other hand going to his right collarbone. Cloud moved one hand to his face and another to his shoulder to gently massage it. Eliad used his hands to rub his face gently, calming down.
“Eliad…,” said Cloud.
“What is it?” asked Eliad.
“Look at me,” said Cloud.
Eliad cast his grey eyes to look at her, meeting her silver-colored eyes. Her hands found their way to his face.
“It’s going to be okay,” whispered Cloud.
“Thank you…,” said Eliad.
“I know I shouldn’t…but…,” said Cloud, blushing while looking down.
Eliad raised a brow in question.
“Maybe you’ll feel better if…,” said Cloud.
She leaned forward and placed an embarrassed peck on his cheek before backing away. Eliad kept his gaze on her, showing no reaction at all.
“I’m sorry,” said Cloud, sighing and moving away.
She began to head down the road slowly, mumbling to herself.
“Cloud,” said Eliad clearly.
Cloud heard him but kept walking. Eliad let out a soft sigh before returning to the inn.
