Pitfalls of the Palantir

There were no dreams to terrorise Haleth that night. The entire time passed, in the blink of an eye, as dark and empty as the void.

And then the headache began.

Haleth groaned and opened her eyes to slits. The shutters were closed and it was still too bright. Her head felt like all of the dwarfs of the Lonely Mountain were using it for an anvil. One of them had gotten the bright idea of using her mouth as a slag heap. 

She tried to remember where she was. After some dizzy associations and vague recollections she realised that she was likely somewhere in Bree. Try as she might, she could not remember how she had gotten into bed.

The room was quiet. No one was actively trying to kill her. Going back to sleep seemed like the best option. She sailed back towards oblivion.

"Haleth."

Trouble waited at the end of the bed. Blond, of course. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head. Inglor had been the reason for many sleepless nights. At the moment Haleth was physically miserable enough to not want him anywhere near her. So, of course, there he was. Maybe he would get the hint and go away. 

Fat chance.

"Haleth, I need you to wake up." It sounded bad. Worse than the time he had dropped her into the pit in the dragon's den.

"Go away, Inglor," Haleth said out loud. She winced and wished she had kept her silence.

"Haleth."

"I mean it, Inglor," she whispered viciously . "I will do you grievous bodily harm if you don't let me sleep."

"Haleth, the palantir is gone."

She said nothing, her head still tucked protectively under her pillow and her back to him. The elf was beginning to think she had fallen back to sleep when she spoke again. "You lost it. You go and look for it. I'll be here when you find it."

"It's most unusual, Haleth," he said at last, sounding like a lost pup. "I need your help. Please get up." 

That voice again. It held the warmth of spring and the promise of summer nights. Empty promises, but Haleth was a sucker for them every time.

"Alright. Alright." she groaned. "Just give me a few minutes to get myself together."

Haleth cursed inwardly and pushed the pillow off of her head. She struggled to sit upright while gingerly supporting her head in both hands, wincing when she touched her bruised jaw.

A strong arm was suddenly around her, helping her up and steadying her. Something cold and smooth was brought against her parched lips.

"Drink this," Inglor's voice was soft but commanding. 

"What is it?" Haleth's churning stomach balked at the idea of being used.

"It will remedy your condition."

They sat on the bed together, Inglor's arm around Haleth, his fingers at her lips, his face close to hers. Haleth caught herself wishing they could remain that way for a long while. Then she remembered her decision of the night before and pushed the vial gently but firmly away from her.

"I don't want this particular condition remedied," she whispered.

Inglor studied her carefully, as if trying to determine if she was still drunk.

"I need the pain to remind me why I shouldn't drink too much," she tried to explain. It did not sound nearly as reasonable as it had inside her head.

"But I need your help."

"I'll help you, Inglor," she leaned back and smiled wearily at him, only wincing slightly as she shifted her weight. "But the hangover is my own fault and I've got to get through it without your help. I can't just look to you every time something goes slightly wrong."

"But you never have," he pointed out, still holding the open vial.

"I don't want to be dependent on you," she explained.

"I can't believe you would ever been dependent on anyone," he said. Was she imagining things or was there a grace note of bitterness in his voice? She was imagining things.

"Inglor," Haleth drew away from him and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, "You're not making this any easier."

"I am trying to make it easier," his voice held the hot edge of anger. "You are being perversely stubborn."

Shocked at his tone and the anger sparking in his eyes, she shrank away from him.

"Haleth," he said in a calmer voice. He moved next to her on the bed, cradled her bruised face in his hand and forced her to look him directly in the eyes. "There is something very odd about the theft of the palantir. You should be at the best of your abilities to investigate and, right now, you are not. The more time was waste arguing the further away the thief will get. I need your help now. Not when you've recovered."

He studied her unsteady gaze and the doubtful look on her face.

"Please?" he finally asked. 

"Oh, all right," she took the offered potion and swallowed it in one gulp. 

It tasted as bad as the hangover had felt. Haleth's stomach did a quadruple backflip. A flash of white-hot pain exploded behind her eyes. 

Haleth shuddered violently, waves of revulsion wracking her body. Inglor held her until the tremors passed.

After a longer time than was necessary, she reluctantly let go of him.

Her stomach felt better but her head still ached.

"I need to get dressed," she said, scanning the floor for her clothing. None of it was visible.

"Yes," he agreed, not getting the hint, as usual.

She wondered how she had become undressed. Maybe it was best to not ask. It would eventually come back to her. 

"Go wait in the hall," she growled. "I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed."

He gave her a look that said he did not trust her to remain awake. She had to admit, sleeping was a good idea, but Inglor would just come back. Immortals could be really persistent.

She checked the floor again for her clothes. Theyl were stubbornly absent. Haleth was beginning to think the thief had filched them, too, when she spied them folded neatly on the end of the bed. 

After several minutes of struggling, she pulled on her boots and stumbled into the hall.

As promised, Inglor was waiting for her. 

"Where was the palantir the last time you saw it?" Haleth asked, determined to be all business.

"In my room," Inglor answered, looking at her as though she had taken a stupid potion instead of a hangover remedy.

"Which one is that?" she asked.

"In here," he opened the door of the room next to hers. 

It was almost identical to the room in which she had awakened. A bed filled one side of the room, a table and two chairs crammed on the opposite side. An open window let in the light. 
The bed was already made. A stack of gold coins glittered on the table. Even with the potion in her system they made her eyes hurt.

Haleth closed the shutters and looked around. 

"They took your pack?"

"Yes."

"But they left some gold for it? Thieves who paid for their theft. Polite people these Bree folk."

"No," the blond was confused. "Those are the coins from my pack."

Haleth fell into the chair and rubbed her forehead. The hangover remedy was not working as well as she had been led to expect. Maybe Inglor had given her the wrong potion? He meant well but he was so entirely clueless that she would not put it past him.

"So they took your pack with the palantir and all your things but left your money," she said.

"That would appear to be the case." He should get an award for saying helpful things.

"But why would a thief steal your things and the palantir and leave your gold?" She had to be missing something here.

"It does seem most unusual," he agreed. "That's why I need your help. I thought maybe it was some human custom?"

"Not any that I know, and I would know," she growled. Something occurred to her.

"Where were you when this happened?" she asked. "Did you sleep through the whole thing?"

"No," Inglor admitted. 

She looked at the made up bed.

"Did you sleep here at all?" she asked.

"No." He looked a bit uncomfortable, like his conscious was bothering him. Nah. The elf never did anything that would make his conscious reproach him. She could not imagine a nefarious idea occurring to him. 

Haleth waited for more information and examined the bed longingly.

It was quickly becoming evident that Inglor would not volunteer any more information.

"So where did you sleep last night?"

"Well, after I put you to bed," he began.

"Whoa, whoa," Haleth held up one hand and supported her head with the other.

"You put me to bed?"

"Yes." 

That would explain the folded clothes. Haleth wondered if she should ask him about the circumstances behind this and then decided against it. It probably did not matter and his explanation would only confuse her. She might ask him where he had found her. Later. 

"Ok," she said. "You put me to bed. Then what?"

"I watched you for awhile to make certain you hadn't been badly hurt." Well, that sounded interesting. What had she done last night?

"When I was certain you were fine, I went for a walk."

Well, that fit. Given access to a comfortable bed for the first time in weeks it was a given that Inglor would not use it.

"I met one of the ladies from the common room last night."

"One of the ladies?" Haleth asked. Competition. The green-eyed monster raised its ugly head. Yeah, right. Forget it.

"Yes, there were several of them. Don't you remember?"

"Fill me in later," she grunted. "You went for a walk and found a lady."

"Yes, well she wanted to walk with me and look at the stars."

Yeah, right. Stars. Sure. It was suddenly getting awfully hot in the little room.

"We walked into the fields around the town to see the stars better. But then she turned her ankle."

How original. The damsel in distress routine. What else could you expect out in the sticks?

"I offered to go for help, but she did not want to be left alone. She claimed there are brigands in the woods."

"So you offered to carry her," Haleth said.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Nevermind. I'll explain it later."

"I carried her back towards the town, but her breathing became quite heavy. I was worried for her wellbeing, so I suggested that we find some water."

Haleth knew that water would never cure the fire the so-called lady had been feeling. Not that Inglor would ever know it. 

"Haleth, are you well? You look somewhat flushed."

"Just go on with your story," she said through gritted teeth.

"She directed me to a stream where I put her down and then..." he stopped.

"And then?" Haleth asked. Her voice held the cold edge of steel.
 
"Well, you'll never believe this but she started to remove her clothing."

Haleth cradled her chin in her hand and rested her elbow on the table. She winced as pain blossomed in her jaw but her full attention was trained on the elf.

"I was worried that she would catch a chill, so I had to hold her close. And then..."

"Then?" Haleth's voice could have split a diamond.

"Then I tried to reason with her and she became rather agitated."

"Go on." 

"She accused me of being very happy and called me all kinds of names. Do humans actually do that with their mothers?"

The green-eyed monster shrivelled up in the light of the expected.

"I was worried that she would become physically violent, so I left her there and came back here. By then the sun was rising. I checked on you again. You were still asleep so I went back to my room. The pack was gone." 

Haleth watched the blond narrowly for several minutes. He was his usual, utterly innocent, completely gorgeous self. She wondered if there was more going on behind those blue eyes than
she knew. There almost had to be.

"You told the innkeeper?" she asked him.

"Not yet."

"Well, let's go and tell him," she got to her feet. "Maybe he'll be able to help."