In a time far beyond our own,
From a different land and different home,
An elf will come that is the one,
None will be right till her deed is done.
Blood is the color of her hair, Her face is perilous and fair, Dark green is the color of her eyes, Do not fear; they speak no lies.
She will help achieve the quest, Set upon the very best Of dwarves, elves, and bravest men, Together, a Fellowship of Ten.
Disclaimer: I still don't own this. Just Aithril. That's about it.
oos: Sorry it took me so long to write this. I've been having some trouble with the plot. However, I think I have it figured out now, so enjoy the chapter! I promise to update within a week, unless I go on vacation or something. Then, I'll have my good friend, Kita, post it. :D Enjoy! By the way, there's a little humor in this chapter that could be considered disgusting by any other person.
Oh, and please read Do As the Ancient Kings Say if you haven't already before you read this. Otherwise, a lot of it won't make sense.
"....." = Speaking *.....* = Private Thoughts /....../ = the Ring
A Labyrinth, that TIME of MONTH, and Nightmares come true
"Curse this maze of rocks!" Frodo suddenly shouted in frustration.
"Shhh, Mr. Frodo." cautioned Sam. "If you wish to curse the rocks, at least do so with less volume."
The pair had wound through the labyrinth with weary, dragging steps - only to come to yet another dead end.
"A good thought," Frodo gritted his teeth. "But it has been a long while indeed since I had passed the point of caring. I feel as though we are marching in dizzying, endless circles, doomed to wander through these rocks until our dying day!" He gripped the Ring tightly as he spoke, nearly breaking it off it's chain.
If Sam noticed, he did not comment. "Don't despair, sir, we can acheive our quest. I can feel it right here!" He thumped himself lightly on the chest with a curled fist. "We'll manage."
"Perhaps we will," Frodo sighed. "Choose the next path, Sam. I have not the heart."
Worry lines deepened like canyons along the younger hobbit's forehead, but he nodded. "Aye, follow me." Sam bounded enthusiatically down another trail, slowing down only to see if his master was coming. Then he started on again, weaving his way between rocks to establish a way of passage through them.
Frodo smiled weakly at the other hobbit's antics, but it slowly downgraded to a frown. *How can he be so light of heart, when we are doomed, on our way to doom, and leaving doom behind?* he wondered. He glanced down at the Ring. It's cold surface was pressed against his bare skin, and through it seemed to radiate a sense of gloominess, of utter hopelessness and despair. *Perhaps it is just the Ring,* he suggested, but something beat back that thought at once.
For a moment, Frodo had the sudden urge to place it on his finger, to wear it and play tricks on Sam, to laugh and run away. /What's the worst that could possibly happen?/ something said slyly. /Not only can you play tricks, but the master will not see you./
The master! He jerked awake from his thoughts. The Ring was saying this. It had nearly convinced him, but made the mistake of referring to the Dark Lord as it's master. Frodo shuddered.
"Come, Mr. Frodo." called Sam back cheerily, unawake of Frodo's torment. "I think I may have found the way ou- oh dear."
Frodo rounded the corner Sam had taken to meet up with another blank face of stone.
"Dead end," Sam mumbled, good cheer lost. He sat down and placed his pack beside him, yawning.
Frodo yawned as well. "Sam, perhaps we should rest," He leaned his hot forehead against the cool stone.
"Good thinking, sir. Just for a moment...." The hobbit's eyes slowly closed as they passed into blissful dreamland.
***
"Please..... let's..... rest.... just a..... minute!" Aithril gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side.
Legolas stopped to help her. "You were fine a minute ago," he commented worridly.
"I wasn't.... not breathing..... a minute ago...." She stuttered, and attempted to breathe normally. Aragorn stopped and returned to her also. Gimli, who had been lagging even further behind than Aithril, finally caught up.
"I................ say........... we.............. rest." He flopped down onto the ground and almost immediately began snoring loudly, as is the habit of dwarves.
Aithril chuckled slightly as she regained her breath, but winced a little bit anyway. "Let's just rest for ten minutes." she pleaded with Aragorn, giving him a puppy eyes face. The man reluctantly nodded and she continued. "Is there any water nearby? I need to bathe desparately."
"I'm afraid not," he replied, raising his eyebrows. Aithril was completely unlike any other elf maiden he had ever met, in the respect that she almost never fussed over her hair or complained. It was out of her nature to ask for a bath in the middle of a chase.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked. She blushed and muttered something. "What?" he asked confused and she turned about three shades darker.
Legolas frowned. "Excuse us," he said, pulling Aithril out of the others' hearing. "What is it?" he inquired softly. "Come, you must tell me. Your discomfort is obvious."
"Well... I...." The red-haired elf looked at her feet in embarassment. Legolas gently took hold of her chin and tilted it upwards. "You can trust me."
"It's so.... embarassing...." she muttered. "It's my, my, my-" She broke off giggling. "Ok, I'll say it. My time of month."
Legolas' eyes widened, but he chuckled. "That is natural," he assured her. "It is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you need... anything?"
"Yes, actually. Where I come from - this is so embarassing...." Aithril muttered again. "we have pads to catch the blood, but, ah, I ran out. I had some in my pack, but I used them all."
"Quite a predicament," Legolas laughed softly. "If you look in that small grouping of trees over there, you will find what you need,"
The elf began walking back towards the others, then stopped and turned back to face Aithril, a look of realization dawning on his face. "I knew it was not like you to have tired so easily. You have cramps!"
Aithril looked around hastily. "Not so loudly!" she hissed, blushing out a fresh wave of color.
Legolas swung the pack he had been carrying off his back and knelt down to rummage through it. "Ahh, here it is!" he said, holding up a cloth bag. He undid the strings that bound together the top and pulled out some leaves.
"Eat one now and the pain will be gone until this time tomorrow," Legolas instructed, stuffing the leaves back in the bag and handing it to Aithril.
"Thank you," she whispered and stood on her tip-toes to press her lips gently against his. A channel of electricity coursed through both their veins. Then, without another word, she loped off to the group of trees.
Legolas allowed himself to stand stunned with a silly grin on his face for a minute more. Then he returned to Aragorn and Gimli.
Gimli was still fast asleep by a small fire. Aragorn looked at Legolas curiously, but when the elf did not meet his gaze, dropped the matter entirely.
Aithril returned some time later with a full smile gracing her features for the first time in two days. She mouthed a thanks to Legolas and he smiled in return.
Aragorn watched her spread her bedroll out next to Legolas but did not say anything. He was smiling inside.
***
Merry groaned as he woke from a nightmare. He had dreamed that Boromir had died and he and Pippin were captured by orcs. How funny! He almost giggled in a sleep-deprived and pain-filled way as he realized it was reality.
A cold wave of fear washed over him as he opened his eyes to a horrible sight.
Pippin was laid out nearby, trussed and bound just like him.
Orcs roamed the camp around him, growling and arguing around each other in a most disgusting picture.
He closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to sleep where things weren't as real.
oos: So? You like? Is it better than the first one? Please review and tell me! :D
Blood is the color of her hair, Her face is perilous and fair, Dark green is the color of her eyes, Do not fear; they speak no lies.
She will help achieve the quest, Set upon the very best Of dwarves, elves, and bravest men, Together, a Fellowship of Ten.
Disclaimer: I still don't own this. Just Aithril. That's about it.
oos: Sorry it took me so long to write this. I've been having some trouble with the plot. However, I think I have it figured out now, so enjoy the chapter! I promise to update within a week, unless I go on vacation or something. Then, I'll have my good friend, Kita, post it. :D Enjoy! By the way, there's a little humor in this chapter that could be considered disgusting by any other person.
Oh, and please read Do As the Ancient Kings Say if you haven't already before you read this. Otherwise, a lot of it won't make sense.
"....." = Speaking *.....* = Private Thoughts /....../ = the Ring
A Labyrinth, that TIME of MONTH, and Nightmares come true
"Curse this maze of rocks!" Frodo suddenly shouted in frustration.
"Shhh, Mr. Frodo." cautioned Sam. "If you wish to curse the rocks, at least do so with less volume."
The pair had wound through the labyrinth with weary, dragging steps - only to come to yet another dead end.
"A good thought," Frodo gritted his teeth. "But it has been a long while indeed since I had passed the point of caring. I feel as though we are marching in dizzying, endless circles, doomed to wander through these rocks until our dying day!" He gripped the Ring tightly as he spoke, nearly breaking it off it's chain.
If Sam noticed, he did not comment. "Don't despair, sir, we can acheive our quest. I can feel it right here!" He thumped himself lightly on the chest with a curled fist. "We'll manage."
"Perhaps we will," Frodo sighed. "Choose the next path, Sam. I have not the heart."
Worry lines deepened like canyons along the younger hobbit's forehead, but he nodded. "Aye, follow me." Sam bounded enthusiatically down another trail, slowing down only to see if his master was coming. Then he started on again, weaving his way between rocks to establish a way of passage through them.
Frodo smiled weakly at the other hobbit's antics, but it slowly downgraded to a frown. *How can he be so light of heart, when we are doomed, on our way to doom, and leaving doom behind?* he wondered. He glanced down at the Ring. It's cold surface was pressed against his bare skin, and through it seemed to radiate a sense of gloominess, of utter hopelessness and despair. *Perhaps it is just the Ring,* he suggested, but something beat back that thought at once.
For a moment, Frodo had the sudden urge to place it on his finger, to wear it and play tricks on Sam, to laugh and run away. /What's the worst that could possibly happen?/ something said slyly. /Not only can you play tricks, but the master will not see you./
The master! He jerked awake from his thoughts. The Ring was saying this. It had nearly convinced him, but made the mistake of referring to the Dark Lord as it's master. Frodo shuddered.
"Come, Mr. Frodo." called Sam back cheerily, unawake of Frodo's torment. "I think I may have found the way ou- oh dear."
Frodo rounded the corner Sam had taken to meet up with another blank face of stone.
"Dead end," Sam mumbled, good cheer lost. He sat down and placed his pack beside him, yawning.
Frodo yawned as well. "Sam, perhaps we should rest," He leaned his hot forehead against the cool stone.
"Good thinking, sir. Just for a moment...." The hobbit's eyes slowly closed as they passed into blissful dreamland.
***
"Please..... let's..... rest.... just a..... minute!" Aithril gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side.
Legolas stopped to help her. "You were fine a minute ago," he commented worridly.
"I wasn't.... not breathing..... a minute ago...." She stuttered, and attempted to breathe normally. Aragorn stopped and returned to her also. Gimli, who had been lagging even further behind than Aithril, finally caught up.
"I................ say........... we.............. rest." He flopped down onto the ground and almost immediately began snoring loudly, as is the habit of dwarves.
Aithril chuckled slightly as she regained her breath, but winced a little bit anyway. "Let's just rest for ten minutes." she pleaded with Aragorn, giving him a puppy eyes face. The man reluctantly nodded and she continued. "Is there any water nearby? I need to bathe desparately."
"I'm afraid not," he replied, raising his eyebrows. Aithril was completely unlike any other elf maiden he had ever met, in the respect that she almost never fussed over her hair or complained. It was out of her nature to ask for a bath in the middle of a chase.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked. She blushed and muttered something. "What?" he asked confused and she turned about three shades darker.
Legolas frowned. "Excuse us," he said, pulling Aithril out of the others' hearing. "What is it?" he inquired softly. "Come, you must tell me. Your discomfort is obvious."
"Well... I...." The red-haired elf looked at her feet in embarassment. Legolas gently took hold of her chin and tilted it upwards. "You can trust me."
"It's so.... embarassing...." she muttered. "It's my, my, my-" She broke off giggling. "Ok, I'll say it. My time of month."
Legolas' eyes widened, but he chuckled. "That is natural," he assured her. "It is nothing to be ashamed of. Do you need... anything?"
"Yes, actually. Where I come from - this is so embarassing...." Aithril muttered again. "we have pads to catch the blood, but, ah, I ran out. I had some in my pack, but I used them all."
"Quite a predicament," Legolas laughed softly. "If you look in that small grouping of trees over there, you will find what you need,"
The elf began walking back towards the others, then stopped and turned back to face Aithril, a look of realization dawning on his face. "I knew it was not like you to have tired so easily. You have cramps!"
Aithril looked around hastily. "Not so loudly!" she hissed, blushing out a fresh wave of color.
Legolas swung the pack he had been carrying off his back and knelt down to rummage through it. "Ahh, here it is!" he said, holding up a cloth bag. He undid the strings that bound together the top and pulled out some leaves.
"Eat one now and the pain will be gone until this time tomorrow," Legolas instructed, stuffing the leaves back in the bag and handing it to Aithril.
"Thank you," she whispered and stood on her tip-toes to press her lips gently against his. A channel of electricity coursed through both their veins. Then, without another word, she loped off to the group of trees.
Legolas allowed himself to stand stunned with a silly grin on his face for a minute more. Then he returned to Aragorn and Gimli.
Gimli was still fast asleep by a small fire. Aragorn looked at Legolas curiously, but when the elf did not meet his gaze, dropped the matter entirely.
Aithril returned some time later with a full smile gracing her features for the first time in two days. She mouthed a thanks to Legolas and he smiled in return.
Aragorn watched her spread her bedroll out next to Legolas but did not say anything. He was smiling inside.
***
Merry groaned as he woke from a nightmare. He had dreamed that Boromir had died and he and Pippin were captured by orcs. How funny! He almost giggled in a sleep-deprived and pain-filled way as he realized it was reality.
A cold wave of fear washed over him as he opened his eyes to a horrible sight.
Pippin was laid out nearby, trussed and bound just like him.
Orcs roamed the camp around him, growling and arguing around each other in a most disgusting picture.
He closed his eyes. He wanted to go back to sleep where things weren't as real.
oos: So? You like? Is it better than the first one? Please review and tell me! :D