Exiled-Knight: Thank you sooo much for the great review! That was very encouraging!
A/N: Whew, finally some flavor text! Go me! Now let's see, this section takes place about fourteen years after Sauron captured Aragorn. Once more: THIS STORY DOES NOT FOLLOW THE FORM OF THE BOOK. Although a group of Rangers that live in trees and defend their territory is very elvish… hey, what the heck; it makes a very good setting…
Chapter One: Small Beams of Untouched Light
Far away from Gondor, another group of valiant individuals were striving to rid the world of evil- only if it crossed their borders.
Suspended high in the treetops of a small forest, a diminutive group of Rangers lived and defended their territory. They fought on horseback, which made them formidable fighters, but their advantage of being high up and able to spot things from a long distance away made them even more feared.
Trinity Jasmine Elessar was not pleased. Being the seventeen-year-old leader of a group of horseback-riding Rangers, she was responsible for the small group of strangers that had drifted into her territory-, which they had just discovered, and she had no idea what to do. All the Rangers had gathered to hold a council.
"I suggest we slay them," a middle-aged man named Dart suggested aggressively, pounding the table with a fist.
"Slay them? You bloody murderer! Always thinking of bloodshed, never peace!" a teenage boy shouted, pounding his fist on the table with equal ferocity.
"We don't know their intentions yet," Trinity said, half to herself.
"Wait? I have had enough waiting! We need to defend our borders!" Dart declared. "Slay-"
"Shut up, Dart!" Trinity yelled, her patience level strained to the limit. She cursed in elvish and looked ready to smother Dart with her bare hands for his mutinous interruption. "I suggest a vote. All persons against the slaying of the strangers please come over here." Dart looked around at the sudden lack of bodies around him.
Dart snarled at her. "Yes, the all side with you!" he spat. "Their precious Trinity cannot do a thing wrong! You filthy little tark!"
Immediately, Trinity launched herself over the table and smashed the heel of her foot into the side of Dart's head. "No one has ever spoke that language here," she hissed. "You know that."
Dart looked into the girl's face, her gray eyes stormy and blazing with anger. He growled deep in his throat and raised his fist almost threateningly. "You stole my position as leader! I was next in line to lead the Rangers until a little squirt comes and gets the job because she is so cute!"
"Ah, you think so too?" Trinity said nonchalantly.
Dart snarled and drew his dagger from his belt. He had a plan, and was confident he could win. Challenging the great Trinity to a duel over the responsibility of leading the group was his cleverest plan yet, Trinity being too hot-blooded to resist.
Quick as a flash, the girl had drawn her sword and tackled Dart to the ground, parrying his dagger. Dart winced. He had not expected her to take him down this easily. He struck out wildly with his fist and landed a lucky blow across her cheek and tossing her off of him. The Rangers held their breaths, captivated.
Trinity rose, holding her leg with a grimace of pain. Dart grinned and grew confident again. He was adroit at attacking weak stragglers in battle, yet trying to defeat someone with Trinity's experience and tactics was a fatal mistake.
Dart rushed forward and very suddenly ran into a foot kindly presented by Trinity, who had expected his rush attack and calmly stuck her uninjured foot directly in front of his face.
Dart managed to blink back the tears of pain and defeat. She had bested him, the little brat, feigned injury to make him rush. There she stood, perfectly unscathed, looking at him furiously, and uttered two words.
"Get out."
"Would you please be more polite?" Dart asked vehemently.
Trinity, very kindly, told him to get out of her territory, drawing a collective gasp from the Rangers.
Dart scrambled backwards as if the sheer power of that one, highly obscene word could kill him. He grabbed his dagger and leapt off the platform they stood on.
Trinity stood silently, her long dark hair strayed by a sudden wind. Her blue-gray eyes scanned the horizon and…
She whipped around so fast that she almost lost her balance. "Do you smell that?" she asked fiercely.
One of the Rangers, a teenage boy named Calam, shrugged with a bashful smile. Trinity snorted. Calam, or "Cal" as she called him affectionately, was full of jests, messing around at the most inopportune moments.
Cal sniffed the air again, trying to pick up what Trinity had caught and what he had missed, but to no avail. She had admirably heightened senses, a trait most common with elves. She was theoretically half-elf, but it was difficult to believe, for she still looked like a perfectly normal human.
"Well, what do you smell?" another Ranger, Díable, asked impatiently.
His question fell on deaf ears.
"Get to your horses!" Trinity bellowed, running to the edge of the platform. She let out a loud whistle and immediately, a big bay thoroughbred burst out of the underbrush, leaping high into the air and catching the young girl as she hurled herself off the platform.
Cal shook his head. She was always pulling stunts like that. She had always had an uncanny relationship with the horses, communicating as if she was another horse. She answered to nobody, her heart fiery and rebellious.
The one treasure he wanted... he would never receive- could never receive.
"Whoa there, Lasrachai," a clear voice pierced the cloud of his mind. The big bay was rearing with anticipation. And then, "Hey! Cal! Are you going to stay up there all day?"
Cal grinned and leapt off the platform, grabbing his horse's reins. "Let's hunt some Orc!"
Lasrachai reared again and with a noro lim from his rider, he shot into the forest.
"Are you sure that the winged horses were here?" Aragorn Elessar hissed softly to his companion, Legolas Greenleaf. The fair elf nodded.
"One of the locals in that town outside the forest saw one just the other day," Legolas said.
"Good, but I have one question," Aragorn scratched his head. "What do we do with the animal? We certainly can't tame it."
Legolas said nothing looking slightly confused. "I remember reading a book in Lord Elrond's library once," Aragorn continued. "I came across a little poem sort of parchment in he binding. I do not remember most of it, save the line; the true princess shall tame the beast- or something like that. I don't even know where it came from or if it is authentic. We would be taking a great risk."
"Aragorn," Legolas said in exasperation. "That sounds tasteless and stupid, but I expect that you are right, as you usually are. We should look over that parchment. We can return to Rivendell and retrieve the parchment and your daughter..."
"Once again, dear elf, you are acting off of my memory, which, may I remind you, is not perfect."
Legolas said nothing, his face twisted into a frown. "I smell Orcs," he whispered. "Nearby."
Aragorn launched himself into a thick bush and crouched low, Legolas following close behind.
"Get down!" Aragorn hissed, but the elf stood still, unmoving, his eyes wide with fear.
"Aragorn!" he finally screamed as the first Orc tore through the woods. It immediately spotted the Ranger and elf crouched behind a bush.
"So, I see you have hidden on the wrong side of the bush!" it snarled. Immediately, dozens of Orcs followed it, surrounding the two hunters.
Aragorn and Legolas fumbled for their weapons, but before they could, two Wargs burst through the underbrush and fell upon them. Legolas sliced through the throat of one and it fell with a shriek, black blood pouring from its throat.
Legolas turned to see how his companion fared, but the distraction cost him.
The first Orc flew at him. The elf's keen senses detected the orc and he raised his hunting knife just barely on time to block the blow of the Orc's scimitar, but not quick enough to counter the kick that swept his legs out from under him, letting out a cry of surprise.
Aragorn heard the cry of his friend and leapt towards him, brandishing Anduril. With a yell, he stabbed the Orc through the chest, but many more surrounded him. One slammed his foot onto Legolas's throat, holding the elf at bay.
Aragorn gritted his teeth. It was not looking good for him- for either of them. He swung Anduril in controlled arcs, cutting down more and more Orcs. But more still came.
He was weary, bleeding from two Warg bites and numerous sword hits. Anduril felt heavy in his hands and he knew he could not keep fighting. Legolas lay unconscious on the grass, the Orcs binding his arms and legs.
A large Orc rushed at Aragorn, blade swishing down. Aragorn parried the blow, but the force of it drove him backwards. The next blow knocked Anduril from his hands and hurling him onto his side, his tired head resting on the ground.
"Just let me rest," he muttered in delirium, eyes squeezed shut. He felt as though he could never get up again. The Orc raised his sword over the defeated Ranger.
His stroke never fell.
Aragorn opened his eyes a crack. Rangers were pouring out of the woods, bows singing, swords flashing. He tried to get up, pushing himself up on all fours before collapsing again into blessed darkness.
"GET THEM!" Trinity yelled, drawing her sword, dropping the reins and kicking Lasrachai forward. The horse responded by leaping forward, without aid from his rider. Cal followed, his bow nocked and singing.
And so the battle began.
Lasrachai knocked the Orc off of Legolas, striking at it with powerful hooves. One kick to the head sent the Orc to the ground, stone dead.
Trinity struck her sword through the chest of one Orc and stopped to wipe sweat off her forehead. From nowhere, an arrow flew, piercing an Orc through the eye. It fell, dead, from where it had been poised to attack Trinity and Lasrachai.
Trinity looked up to see Cal shooting another arrow. She caught his eye for a moment and smiled a thank you, before turning to slice an Orc in two.
After an hour of fierce warfare, the remaining Orcs fled in terror, mounted riders pursuing them. Trinity leapt off Lasrachai's back and gently felt the elf's neck for a pulse. It was strong and steady.
"He's fine, just unconscious," she announced to no one in particular. "Anar, see to him." The big Ranger knelt beside the elf.
"Why do you suppose he was traveling alone?" Cal asked. "He looks to be an elf from Mirkwood."
Trinity shrugged. "He was very foolish. Bring him back; we shall have to tend to him until he heals." Anar, the tall Ranger healer, picked up the elf and placed him in front of his horse's saddle.
Lasrachai plodded up to his master and nudged her shoulder. Trinity smiled and stroked his nose. He nickered with pleasure and lowered his head, allowing her to scratch his massive forehead. "Hi, you," Trinity said playfully, taking his reins and leading him forward to check his soundness.
Lasrachai was fine, and Trinity leapt up onto his back, gathering up the reins and steering him towards their home. A low moan reached her ears and she halted Lasrachai to listen. "Cal," she said softly. "Come here."
Aragorn stirred, pain blurring his vision. He tried to move his arms, but his left arm and leg were lifeless and limp by his side. He was cold, and shivering from a fever that gripped his body with dizziness.
He could not hold back the low groan of pain that moving his body encompassed. He was floating back into darkness, and he was welcoming it, hoping his death would be swift and painless.
"CAL!" Trinity shouted. She hurled herself onto the wet, muddy grass and slogged up to a limp form. A human. She felt for his pulse, feeling only a faint, erratic beat. He blazed with unnatural heat, and his face was flushed red. "Get over here now!"
Cal floundered through the mud. Trinity was holding a man in her arms, shouting at him in elvish. His hair was black, the same color as hers, and when his eyes finally fluttered open they were a deep stormy gray-blue. Trinity looked both sad and angry at the same time.
Cal gently touched her shoulder. "Trin, we have to bring him too," he said. Trinity whistled for Lasrachai and helped a semi-conscious Aragorn to his feet. Lasrachai bent down on her forelegs in a bow where her nose brushed the ground.
Trinity managed to get Aragorn onto the horse's back. "Hey, Cal, boost me up. And make sure he doesn't fall."
Cal placed his hand upon the sick man's thigh and helped steady him, wondering what held Trinity so upset over the appearance on this stranger.
Legolas awoke in a soft bed, nearby a large window. He craned his head and saw the tops of trees, concluding that he had been brought to some sort of tree-platform, such as the ones in Lothlorien. He edged into a sitting position and was immediately pushed back down by a tall, heavyset man.
"Master Elf," he said. "You still need rest."
Legolas fell against the pillows. "Not until you answer a few questions."
"Of course, Master Elf," the man replied in a friendly manner.
"First of all, you should stop calling me 'Master Elf'," Legolas said. "My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil."
"I'm Anar, Ranger of the North," the man shook Legolas' proffered hand. "I serve as a healer here."
Legolas had to admit; he had done a good job. The elf's wounds hardly hurt him anymore. "I had a friend with me," he said. "He was a man-"
"Speak no more, Master Legolas!" Anar said cheerfully. "He resides here, in that bed adjacent to yours."
Legolas turned. He had not noticed the second bed. "Aragorn?" he said loudly. The figure in the bed did not stir.
"Your friend was very hurt, Master Legolas-" Anar was cut off.
"Just 'Legolas', please," Legolas said gently.
"-Legolas. He was already near death as he collapsed from pure exhaustion." Anar said softly. Legolas could not tear his eyes from Aragorn's almost lifeless body. He could barely distinguish his friend's shallow breaths.
"I'm sorry, Legolas," Anar said sympathetically. "You need rest now." He gave Legolas a cup of tea. "I made some tea for you. It will help you sleep."
Legolas took a sip and immediately relaxed. He cast one last look at Aragorn's unmoving body before draining his cup and drifting into sleep.
Trinity sat on the edge of the tree-platform, dangling her legs over the edge. It was wholly dark outside, and the stars glittered brightly. Letting out a sad sigh, she dropped her chin in depression.
"Are you alright?" came a soft voice. Cal stepped up to Trinity's side.
"Yes," she said shortly. "Just some nostalgia."
"Does it have something to do with that wounded man?"
"Maybe," she said cautiously. It was really none of his business to ask her about her feelings, but she rather enjoyed the attention. "He just reminded me of someone," she lied.
Cal shook his head. "Trinity, I know you. You have seen him before, unless I am mistaken."
"Alright, fine," she gave up. "I do know him. When I was very young; before I came here."
"Who is he?"
"The King of Gondor," Trinity said quietly. "Aragorn son of Arathorn."
"How did you know him?" Cal knew he was asking too many questions, but he was very curious and she seemed so sad…
"He was my father," she said abruptly, staring into the sky with cold, hard eyes.
Cal sucked in a breath. "Does he remember-?"
Trinity cut him off with a shake of her head. "He left me when I was four. I was alone until for fourteen years. Do you understand now?" she shouted in a quaking, angry voice.
Cal took her hand and squeezed it. "You were never alone," he said with a smile. "You had me and the others."
After a moment she returned the smile. "You're right, Cal. As always."
Seeing her smile made his heart soar. Her contentment transferred directly to him, warming his heart. Suddenly, he gave a grin. "Besides, I think you like him," he said with a smirk.
"What? Who?"
"The Lord Aragorn."
"No, I don't!" she gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. Then she turned serious. "He abandoned me to the hands of Sauron himself. I do not know whether I will ever be able to forgive him."
"It matters not," Cal said, and then turned mischievous. "You do so like him!"
She slugged him. "No I don't."
"Do too."
"Watch out, Calam, or I may be forced to hurt you," she tried to keep from giggling and act gruff at the same time.
Cal snickered, sending them both into peals of laughter. "You are so stupid, I do not know how I put up with you for fourteen years," she said, bursting into laughter again. "I'm going to bed."
"Yes, vile and insulting girl, I shall see you in the morning," Cal giggled uncontrollably and rolled about on the floor.
"If you fall off, I'm going to laugh so hard! I will see you in the morning- whole or in a huge red puddle," Trinity strode towards her sleep quarters, hearing Cal's howls of laughter behind her.
A/N: Whew! One chapter down, about sixty million more to go. LOL. Just kidding. I'm sorry if it got a little long. The next chapter is about the rest of Aragorn's family back in Gondor. I hear rumors of Elladan and Elrohir putting up a surprise visit… Chapter Three will be back to poor, incapacitated Aragorn and Legolas.