Back again with the first chapter. It's set
a few months after the end of ROTK, but not before the Ringbearers sail to
the Havens.
********
Chapter I
*******
Legolas watched, halfway in dreams, as was the way of Elves. The air was warm, and it filled him with a deep longing for the waters of the West. But he could not. Faramir's dreams had been troubled, and this had upset Mithrandir greatly.
He oftened was unsure of what to think of the red-headed lord. Sometimes he would seem as great in majesty and power as Elessar, yet there was some great difference between them. Elessar saw things as a descendant of Numenor would, far and wide and very few minds could deceive him. But Faramir did not see such; he saw things beyond. Mithrandir had once told him, as he visited Gondor, that Faramir often had dreams of the future, as well as the past. It was he who was told of Isildur's Bane; it was he who had a dream of his brother. And now he was having long dreams of darkness and shadows, and a strange blackness that was sure to strike against Elessar's realm.
Yet at the moment, he could not be troubled by such. He was wandering through the shores of the sea, listening to the gulls.
"You are not singing? I am rather surprised Legolas, I expected you to have disturbed this entire forest with your incessant babble!"
Legolas glanced at Gimli, smirkling slightly. "Nay, if I sang, everyone would be so enthralled they would forget their woes, though I am sure you speak enough for the both of us!"
"Hmph! The tongue of Elves waggles far more than that of a dwarf," Gimli answered.
Legolas laughed as he surveyed the clearing. He, Gimli, and Pippin had come with a group of Ithilien rangers --Faramir's,, hoping to destroy the last shattered remains of Sauron's forces. They had slain a large number of orcs last night, but a dark presence was still there. During the daylight hours, he felt no danger, but as soon as the moon appeared, a wave of dread ran through him that he had not felt since the Balrog in Moria.
Tonight the feeling was unbearable. The Elf paced back and forth, quietly resting his hand against the hard wood of an oak tree. Gimli was certainly aware of the Elf's discomfort, which meant it may be observant to the Dunedain as well. Pippin, at least, was ignorant and was instead enjoying the green scenery of Ithilien.
He glanced alertly towards a small path as he heard the gentle sound of a horse galloping towards them.
It waited. The cool night air breathed life into its darkness, filling it with the hatred that filled its being. It felt the presence of its prey, and slowly drove closer. It smelled them, felt their light, wanted to swallow it completely. Two bright, flaming figures took its attention. The hatred welled up through its thick form as it slunk through the night.
"Mithrandir!" Legolas waved happily.
Everyone turned to see Gandalf upon Shadowfax, a white beacon in the dark night.
"What news do you bring from King Aragorn?" Gimli asked as Gandalf dismounted.
"What news do you wish? Arwen is with child, the Southrons still loyal to Sauron have banded together again, the Shire is mending from Sauruman's influence,"
"That is quite enough news for me!" The dwarf laughed and gripped to his axe. "And how do you fare?"
Legolas caught a slight slouch as Gandalf tightly gripped his staff. "I am well, as well as I can be."
Mithrandir continued giving news and talking with the men of Ithilien as Legolas looked through the forest with increased anxiety. He paced, then rested himself back upon the large oak. His long hand drew back as a foul slime covered his hand. He inhaled sharply as he noticed the top layer of skin showing marks of burn by flame.
The tree was dieing. He knew no other word for it, for as he withdrew his hand, the black slime started to roll down the tree, like some poison that took joy in the tree's suffering. He winced inwardly and glanced at the other trees, noticing the black sludge was creeping through them like a plague.
His Elven ears focused intently upon one sound, a sort of silent hiss that came towards them. Shadowfax twisted in annoyance, snorting in sudden anger. His grey hooves stamped at the ground and Gandalf walked over to calm him.
Then, in the corner of Legolas' eye, he saw it. The silent menace that he'd felt since their coming to this forest.
And it was heading right for the wizard.
"Mithrandir!" Legolas ran forward, pulling his white knife from its sheath. The creature, thing noticed him, and the hatred intensified. Legolas heard the enraged cry of the wizard and dwarf as they saw the creature, but only dimly.
It was as if a black curtain had simply covered him. Thousands of sharp claws dug through his tunic, into the tender flesh of his stomach. He suppressed a cry, for his hearing was suffocated by a howling din. He saw only a grey mist, and his senses scattererd.
A vivid, glowing silver light suddenly ripped through his vision. Legolas cried out, and gave in to a hollow nothingness.
***********
********
Chapter I
*******
Legolas watched, halfway in dreams, as was the way of Elves. The air was warm, and it filled him with a deep longing for the waters of the West. But he could not. Faramir's dreams had been troubled, and this had upset Mithrandir greatly.
He oftened was unsure of what to think of the red-headed lord. Sometimes he would seem as great in majesty and power as Elessar, yet there was some great difference between them. Elessar saw things as a descendant of Numenor would, far and wide and very few minds could deceive him. But Faramir did not see such; he saw things beyond. Mithrandir had once told him, as he visited Gondor, that Faramir often had dreams of the future, as well as the past. It was he who was told of Isildur's Bane; it was he who had a dream of his brother. And now he was having long dreams of darkness and shadows, and a strange blackness that was sure to strike against Elessar's realm.
Yet at the moment, he could not be troubled by such. He was wandering through the shores of the sea, listening to the gulls.
"You are not singing? I am rather surprised Legolas, I expected you to have disturbed this entire forest with your incessant babble!"
Legolas glanced at Gimli, smirkling slightly. "Nay, if I sang, everyone would be so enthralled they would forget their woes, though I am sure you speak enough for the both of us!"
"Hmph! The tongue of Elves waggles far more than that of a dwarf," Gimli answered.
Legolas laughed as he surveyed the clearing. He, Gimli, and Pippin had come with a group of Ithilien rangers --Faramir's,, hoping to destroy the last shattered remains of Sauron's forces. They had slain a large number of orcs last night, but a dark presence was still there. During the daylight hours, he felt no danger, but as soon as the moon appeared, a wave of dread ran through him that he had not felt since the Balrog in Moria.
Tonight the feeling was unbearable. The Elf paced back and forth, quietly resting his hand against the hard wood of an oak tree. Gimli was certainly aware of the Elf's discomfort, which meant it may be observant to the Dunedain as well. Pippin, at least, was ignorant and was instead enjoying the green scenery of Ithilien.
He glanced alertly towards a small path as he heard the gentle sound of a horse galloping towards them.
It waited. The cool night air breathed life into its darkness, filling it with the hatred that filled its being. It felt the presence of its prey, and slowly drove closer. It smelled them, felt their light, wanted to swallow it completely. Two bright, flaming figures took its attention. The hatred welled up through its thick form as it slunk through the night.
"Mithrandir!" Legolas waved happily.
Everyone turned to see Gandalf upon Shadowfax, a white beacon in the dark night.
"What news do you bring from King Aragorn?" Gimli asked as Gandalf dismounted.
"What news do you wish? Arwen is with child, the Southrons still loyal to Sauron have banded together again, the Shire is mending from Sauruman's influence,"
"That is quite enough news for me!" The dwarf laughed and gripped to his axe. "And how do you fare?"
Legolas caught a slight slouch as Gandalf tightly gripped his staff. "I am well, as well as I can be."
Mithrandir continued giving news and talking with the men of Ithilien as Legolas looked through the forest with increased anxiety. He paced, then rested himself back upon the large oak. His long hand drew back as a foul slime covered his hand. He inhaled sharply as he noticed the top layer of skin showing marks of burn by flame.
The tree was dieing. He knew no other word for it, for as he withdrew his hand, the black slime started to roll down the tree, like some poison that took joy in the tree's suffering. He winced inwardly and glanced at the other trees, noticing the black sludge was creeping through them like a plague.
His Elven ears focused intently upon one sound, a sort of silent hiss that came towards them. Shadowfax twisted in annoyance, snorting in sudden anger. His grey hooves stamped at the ground and Gandalf walked over to calm him.
Then, in the corner of Legolas' eye, he saw it. The silent menace that he'd felt since their coming to this forest.
And it was heading right for the wizard.
"Mithrandir!" Legolas ran forward, pulling his white knife from its sheath. The creature, thing noticed him, and the hatred intensified. Legolas heard the enraged cry of the wizard and dwarf as they saw the creature, but only dimly.
It was as if a black curtain had simply covered him. Thousands of sharp claws dug through his tunic, into the tender flesh of his stomach. He suppressed a cry, for his hearing was suffocated by a howling din. He saw only a grey mist, and his senses scattererd.
A vivid, glowing silver light suddenly ripped through his vision. Legolas cried out, and gave in to a hollow nothingness.
***********