Ah, this one's been ready for a week and nobody wanted to have it sooner. A shame, a shame. I'll just have to take it out on Aragorn and Legolas in the next story I'm working on. Ai, they may wish for death before the end. . . .

Sphinx: I'm glad you liked Elrond. My story's not a total flop if someone likes something. Yay! There's more angst later. . . . Thanks for reading and letting me know what you think. I would write anyway, but it's so much more fun when other people can enjoy it, too.

Karri: Hm. 'She' doesn't quite come into the picture, truly into the picture just yet, but if you can hang on, I'd love to know what you think of her. I'm afraid she might be Mary-Sue-ish, but I hope not; that's not what I intended. And I'm not too fond of the 'she's' either, but . . . The bunny bit and there was no way around it. If it makes any difference, I can assure you now that there's no romance. *chuckles* No, no romance, just. . . . But that would be telling. Hehe.

Well, here's the next chapter.

Chapter 2

Stumble in the Dark

True to word and form, Aragorn was indeed up and gone early in the morning. He had bid good-bye to his family yet again and was grateful that they were elves because that meant he did not have to wake them up or leave without word in order to depart so early. Elves were almost always up with the crack of dawn.

He took the road leading out of the valley at a brisk jog, following it west until he left the confines of the valley which housed and protected Rivendell. Once away, he left the road and headed north, various trees providing sparse protection as he moved easily through them. The ground was soft and mostly covered with green grass, which he crossed lightly, or as lightly as a man was able. He made good time and was nearing the mountains, as evidenced by the changing soil beneath his feet, when he stopped for lunch.

The Ranger sat quietly on a fair sized boulder that decorated the ground where he had stopped, munching on a small meal of bread and cheese. He was not staying long enough to wish to take the time to start a fire and cook any meat. His keen gaze swept the quiet countryside around him, searching for any signs of another presence or anything amiss. He found nothing and only the quiet sounds of nature reached his ears. A bird singing nearby caught his attention, and he settled back to listen to the creature's fair song as he took a sip of water and finished his meal. He could afford to sit for a moment before moving on.

He smiled slightly in memory of events long passed, wishing such carefree days remained to enjoy, especially the days when he and Legolas had been free to wander from one home to the other, even if it meant one horrible chance meeting after another that landed them yet another injury that needed to be recuperated from. He missed the days when he could travel with his friend, but those times seemed to be passing quickly.

The demands on the Rangers had been growing of late and more often than not he found himself called away from home into the Wild or around the Shire, which the DĂșnedain defended from the North, or off in the east near Gondor. In fact, it was from scouting near Gondor that he had just returned from, having been called to return and look into rumors of deadly beasts wondering the lands west of the Misty Mountains, which was where he was headed. Precisely what wandered the mostly empty lands, no one could say, but few had returned who had met them and none of the survivors could paint a clear picture. Some said wolves, some said men--or more often feral elves, as many men feared the fair beings--some said a mixture of the two as if the beast that had attacked was neither one nor the other but both combined into a strange form.

In any case, Aragorn was here to find out the answer. He had heard the reports and hoped to explore the area and determine if he could find any trace of the being's whereabouts that could illuminate the mystery and put an end to some of the fear and danger in the Wild.

Arnaur had offered to come with him, but the human had refused. He had great respect for the skills of his fellow DĂșnedain, but if this creature was truly as dangerous as the few survivors claimed it to be, then he had no desire to lead anyone under his protection into danger. That through traveling alone he had placed himself in dire danger if the threat proved true was not lost on the human, but was considered an acceptable risk in his mind--even though he was sure none of his friends would see it that way. If the danger proved real and Legolas found out, he was in for far more trouble, and he knew it. Aragorn also had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was that had attacked and hurt so many was not alone.

Some of those parties that had been attacked had been rather large. No single beast, not even an elf, would attack a large party alone; they had too much sense for that. Also, no lone elf could eliminate a large party and leave no survivors, no matter how skilled. No, he felt there had to be more than one, even if the victims only ever saw one threat. No one had a clear memory or account of events, always claiming it had happened so fast, and that before they knew what had happened, they were virtually alone, the dark deep and threatening, hiding deadly intent that seemed to ooze from everywhere.

Aragorn wondered how an elf would have seen the events, and if one of those fair but deadly beings could not have made more sense out of the proceedings or even managed to overcome whatever was attacking the people. He frowned. Maybe he should have let Elladan and Elrohir accompany him after all.

The ranger shook his head. No, he would do this on his own. For some reason he could not quite place, he felt it was better this way. He assumed it was because he did not want to lead his brothers into danger.

Aragorn stood. It was time for him to continue on his chosen path. If he had not missed his guess he would be nearly to a campsite frequented by the DĂșnadan. He would stop and make camp there. Then he would move on and camp again where the last attack had occurred. The precise wisdom of camping in the location of an attack by an unknown threat was lost on the Ranger, but he knew of no better place to begin and was not overly worried of being attacked in that place. The beasts had not priorly attacked the same place twice. Then, when morning came, he would study the ground for clues as to the nature of this unknown threat and make a decision. What decision, though, was a bit foggy.

The hours melted away, almost monotonous in their unchanging uniformity. The only noticeable change throughout it all was the slow ascent and descent of the sun moving away to the west and changing the cast of the shadows. While not precisely true, since the terrain in the Wild nor so close to the mountains was precisely the same, the observation had merit since the ranger had not seen a single beast, nor heard one, since he had left his last camp and the singing bird. No hint of a breeze stirred the stillness, and the sounds were as static as the ground, meaning there was nothing to be heard. Disquiet gnawed at his stomach, twisting it into apprehensive knots. The outdoors should never be so quiet and unmoving. Not if the area is safe. It would not have taken a Ranger to realize that here, alone, in the Wild, he was most certainly not safe.

Aragorn halted and looked around in the failing light. He was still a couple days out from his intended destination and several miles from where he had intended to camp for the night. Truly, he had not intended to stop for several more hours yet, but he did not wish to come upon any trouble in the dark when he had no cause to tempt such trouble just yet. He knew he could stay where he was and camp for the night, but the idea held little appeal as it was not a secure location and not easily defensible if he was attacked in the night.

The ranger lowered his small pack carefully to the ground, then followed it, stretching out flat and pressing his ear to the ground, listening for any approach or movement that the earth might reveal to him.

Distantly, though he could not discern from where, he felt the echo of many pounding feet, and the closer vibration of the past as he identified what it was he felt: the passage of orc feet, numbering at least twenty, though it was hard to tell since the creatures had not been this way in many days.

He climbed warily back to his feet and decided to continue on. He would continue on to his chosen campsite as planned, though he would have to forgo any thoughts of a fire or a hot meal. This did not bother him nearly so much as the prospect of meeting up with upwards of twenty orcs and whatever beasts hunted the Ettenmoors at night. As his lips tightened in consternation, Aragorn wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

Still, little more than an hour later he had reached his destination and scouted the area. It was safe enough, all things considered, and he set about preparing a small and simple meal. The sounds of the forest had not returned to normal and he dared not make a fire to announce his presence to any unfriendly beasts who might roam the area. Then, gazing out about him he settled down with his back against the small cliff that jutted about the ground and let his eyes close. Another two days and he would reach his destination.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next passed without event, and for that, Aragorn was extremely grateful. It was not that he feared orcs, but the prospect of meeting up with them certainly did not inspire in him any joyous feelings. Too many bad experiences precluded any such opportunity for feeling. Indeed, even had he not had the dubious privilege of meeting orcs personally, he still would not have enjoyed their company as he had heard too many stories of the horror of their treatment of others.

It was well into the second day that any sign of trouble arose. He had been traveling at a steady clip and was several leagues away from Rivendell by now, and far enough away from the elven realm that he would find no elven patrols. It was with great unease that he noted the continued lack of noise in his surroundings. He knew this area to normally be full of life, if not so full as other areas, and found the lack of sound completely disturbing, though if he had not traveled through this area before, the constant silence over nearly three days might not have troubled him. Or even if he had been less wary, the silence might have ceased to bother him some time ago. As it was, the silence caused him to slow several times.

Biting his lower lip in consternation, he looked around him. He was not far from his intended destination, he judged, maybe a couple of hours. He would continue on. There was nowhere around him he cared to stop, even though the sun was sinking lower in the sky, it's warm brilliance quickly becoming lost behind the trees, few though they were.

Nearly two hours later, the ranger heard what he had been dreading since he had learned of the presence of orcs in the vicinity: orc voices. They were loud and coarse, and seemed to be coming from the direction he was headed, though he was not near enough yet to make out any words.

He glanced around him carefully. Quickly, he found the guards posted around the camp to watch for intruders, though, for whatever reason, the beasts did not seem overly concerned about anyone approaching them out here. Whether it was because of the remote location or the recent attacks that were keeping most sensible beings away, he was not sure, but was glad for the inattentivness it caused on the part of his enemies for otherwise he almost surely would have been spotted by now. He had not been nearly as carefully about staying out of sight as he should have been, and had no desire to fall victim to orcs, regardless of whatever else threatened his existence so near the northern Misty Mountains in the Ettenmoors, which he had entered shortly after lunch.

Moving carefully and quietly so as not to alert the orc band to their unexpected guest, Aragorn moved off to the side and away from direct observation by the foul beasts he had stumbled upon. Then, as quietly and discretely as possible, he moved closer so as to listen to the conversation in the camp.

Slowly, the words came into focus. ". . . keep this up," one voice said. "Why should we listen to them?"

"Hush!" another hissed. "They'll hear you!"

"Buzz off!" the first cried. "Just because you're scared of your own shadow doesn't mean we have to take this. They're stealing our fun."

"You can lose your head if you want to, but if they hear this talk, you'll be the one they're having 'fun' with next," the second sulked, not happy with being called a coward.

Another voice spoke up then, "It's not as if many come this way anyway," he whined. "And certainly not those foul Elves. We could move further south and find more, then we'd be out of their way."

"And further in the way of the elves. Our numbers aren't so great that we can face a large party of Elves!"

Aragorn frowned slightly as he lost track of who was speaking. He wasn't sure if that was a new voice or one of those who had already spoken.

"They can," a new voice hissed quietly, stilling the argument. "Maybe They'd be happy and leave more prey to us if we drew the Elves further north."

"How could we do that?" the first voice demanded, curiosity only just tingeing his words.

He heard movement as someone changed position, then, "We move further south as Gorbert said, and gain the attention of the Elves. If we grab it hard enough and head north, they'll come looking for us," he told the others. "Then, when they are far from help, They can have them. Happy."

The ranger wondered uneasily who they were. If they were a danger to elves, like the orcs seemed to think, then they were dangerous indeed. He returned his attention to the creatures before him and realized their discussion was done. Most had turned away and were brooding with various expressions of glee and anticipation upon their grisly faces. Apparently, they had decided to carry out the plan.

Which left Aragorn with a decision to make. He had come to find out what the Dread of the Ettenmoors was, but had come upon a deadly plot to eliminate elves instead. Did he then continue his search and hope he found something quickly so he could then return and hope to warn his friends before it was too late, or did he head back and abandon his search? He bit his bottom lip absently as he considered. He would gain nothing by searching the clearing after the orcs were gone. Their heavy footsteps would have wiped out any evidence that had been left. He was not sure where to go from here.

The ranger looked up and glanced around, trying to place the orc patrol who was watching the surrounding land. He needed to know where they were so he could slip away. When he saw them, however, he froze. The stationed orcs had moved closer to his hiding place while he listened to the discussion and were now nearly on top of him. He crouched down further in the undergrowth, hoping to disappear until their attention turned elsewhere and thus allow him to escape. He was distressed when, instead of moving away, they seemed to be coming closer. A thrill of panic shot up his spine as he furiously tried to determine if they had seen him.

Apprehensively, he watched as two guards closed in on his location and stopped, facing each other, barely two feet away from his hiding place. He closed his eyes in relief that he had not been spotted. Yet.

He was forced to watch as they carried on a mostly quiet conversation in the foul tongue of their people. These two apparently knew each other from the same tribe, as most tribes could not understand another's language. It was a foul people who could not understand their own people when speaking in their own tongue, and who were just as likely to turn on their own as the enemy. Though they were just as quick to join forces against someone or thing they hated as bicker among themselves. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as every moment they stood talking heightened the chances that they would discover him.

After what seemed like hours, and was in reality only minutes, the two turned around and continued on their posts, heading back the way they had come. Aragorn breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He really did not relish the thought of being caught by orcs, again. And this time, he would not have Legolas around to bail him out.

He glanced around to make sure no one was looking his direction, then he carefully crept away from his hiding place . . . and the orc camp. He made it five paces before he came face to face with an orc, who looked just as startled as he felt. He had not heard the beast's approach. Quickly, he pulled his sword and dispatched the foul creature--but not before the attention of every orc in the camp had been alerted to his presence. The orc fell before him and he took off, the rest of the camp behind him. Unfortunately, not all of the orcs were in the camp and some appeared before him.

Impatiently, and with growing alarm, he fought off the onslaught of enemies that came at him. A wide sweep beheaded two who had ventured too close, but also left him open to attack. He barely managed to duck a blow to his head from behind, bringing his sword up quickly to guard against the return swing that was aimed for his chest. He pushed his opponent's sword away and stabbed his own blade quickly through the being's chest, dropping the orc where he stood. Another took his place and took his swing. More approached. Aragorn tried to move away so he could break free, but the creatures swarmed him, able to get more to slow his path every time he moved away from one clump, allowing another to form.

Minutes slipped away and more orc bodies fell. If he had been counting, indeed if he had been able to count, Aragorn would have realized the orc band he'd stumbled onto numbered nearly a hundred (scattered fairly well around the area) and had been cut down by more than a fourth with his efforts--a fact which held little comfort for the Ranger, but was intriguing to another who could count.

He swung his sword up yet again to cut off the path of yet another sword. His shoulder ached and he could not remember the last battle he had fought which had lasted so long. He pushed the deadly blade back and struck out at the next warrior who came at him, managing to disarm him before he swung his blade around to remove the creature's head and blocking yet another strike that was aimed for him from another quarter. Sweat dripped down his forehead and matted his hair to his face. Six more fell to his sword in rapid succession and he made a break for it.

Six steps away he was faced with another orc who swung for his head. The ranger took advantage of the unbalance of his opponent and merely shoved him as he ducked the blade and continued running. He danced through the trees as arrows began raining down around him. None landed, but he was grateful when he gained the shelter of an area more densely covered in trees.

He leaned back and wiped his hand across his forehead, slightly surprised when it came away smeared with red. Then he hissed as he felt the sting of the cut, now that his attention could be drawn by its pain. He dabbed at the cut with some cloth, then pressed it to the cut. He looked around. This was not the direction he had come from, but that was just as well. Quickly, he started running. If he hurried, he could make it back to Rivendell in two day's time, but he would not be able to stop if he hoped to do that. Still, he obviously could not stay here. He merely hoped he had the strength to run that far for that long.

He never noticed that he was being watched.

The figure quietly perched in the tree near where the engagement had taken place. None of the orcs had seen her, and so paid her no attention. They were busy tending their dead, a matter she had no sympathy for. It was their own fault for failing to notice the human's presence in the first place. No, she was more interested in the man. His fighting style was familiar, as if she had seen it before though she could not begin to surmise where.

She glanced down at the orcs. Now the human knew too much as was most likely going to warn the elves. Her superiors would have to be told. This orc band was more trouble than it was worth. She would be glad when they could kill them. Maybe it would even be soon.

The human would have to be killed. She glanced in the direction he had disappeared in. He was skilled. Maybe they would let her do it. It had been a long time since she had come across an opponent truly worthy of her attention. Maybe she could have fun with this one. She would have to ask Shirk.

Quickly, she turned away and dropped lightly to the ground out of sight of the chaotic orcs who seemed to have no clue what was going on. She cast a disdainful glance over her shoulder at their ineptitude before making her way soundlessly in the opposite direction. She would reach their southern base by morning. Then maybe she would finally gain something that could hold her attention.