Hey hey! I have the next chapter. *all cheer, some less excitedly than others* For those of you who actually care, I post this now because I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I go to bed first, it will not be posted until about noon . . . Today. *frowns at the clock which reads 12:30* Anyway.

Annoymous reviewers (if any of you have tried to review, found yourself rebuffed, and still continued to read), I have now fixed the problem and would gladly welcome your input. I regret locking you out. I didn't know. I swear I didn't. It somehow escaped my knowledge when I set up my account not so very long ago in the middle of what normal people consider sleeping hours. Me and they don't precisely see eye-to-eye on such matters, but I suspect most of you understand. *g*

Oh, and I'm making progress on my next story. I have hope that it will actually be finished this summer. And if so, I can step up my posting schedule. *more cheers, enthusiastic and perfunctory*

Em, on to the next phase of comments:

NaughtyNat: Ah! I didn't see that! Thank you, thank you! *beams happily* So glad you approve. And Legolas is, unfortunately, not in this one. He's in the sequel which I'm currently writing right now, which is why I only post once a week (to give me plenty of time to finsih the story before I finish posting this one so my wonderful reviewers don't have to wait forever). *g* Oh, and the maturity level is going to start dropping after this next chapter, I think. These were written with the thought in mind that Aragorn was fifty. So, we'll see.

Bill the Pony: So sorry about the cloning. Maybe next time. Always appreciative of your efforts, though. *g*

And now the chapter! *many sighs of relief, answered by an unamused glare*

Lost and Found

Kelt stirred as sunlight touched her face, breaking into the bleary dreams that slipped away without recall as conscious thought returned to the young human. She blinked quickly and scanned her surroundings, noting that nothing had changed, and slightly chagrined to note that it was now a good number of hours past dawn. Her lips pressed together tightly in irritation at herself for her lapse. Shirk would have her hide if he knew she had overslept the dawn.

The slight being gazed around her and dropped down from the tree she had spent the night in, stretching slightly to relieve cramped muscles. Keen eyes swept the floor to see if anything had been disturbed near her. On silent feet, she moved back towards the camp.

Before she could enter, she suddenly became aware of soft footsteps approaching quickly. Without pausing, she turned to yet another tree and scaled its branches easily. No sooner was she hidden, than three beings entered the clearing not far from her position and continued across it, heading for the mountains. She frowned slightly; as far as she knew there had been no evidence to point to any. . . .

Her frown deepened as she realized two of the elves were missing. Where had they gone? Rivendell? She supposed it was possible they would return home if nothing was found to justify their absence. That did not, however, account for the beings that had just passed her hiding place. Though . . . there was the question of why the human had come here in the first place. Could they be continuing that? She had imagined it was to ascertain information on the orcs which had grown more numerous in these parts. She tilted her head slightly to the side as she thought, her head unconsciously turning to keep the group in sight as long as possible.

She supposed it really did not matter why the other two elves had left, just that they had. Judging by the others' demeanors, she was fairly certain that they would not be returning. That made her job easier. Instead of having to deal with four elves to get to the human, she would only have to deal with two. Still, she had yet to figure out how she was going to extricate the human from their midst. She still did not want to have to fight them. Despite her skills, she was certain she could not take on all of them at the same time, was fairly sure she could not take on even one. This would require careful planning and execution.

Once the small group had moved out of sight, she dropped out of the tree and landed quietly at its base. Again, she swept the surrounding land before starting off after them, keeping to the left of their heading by ten meters. She was not worried about losing them, and was not ready to catch them, so she paced them, staying just out sight. Keeping to the shadows, she stopped when they stopped and moved when they moved, her lessons in silent moving at the hands of her mother being put to full use as she sought to avoid the detection of elven ears.

As she followed, she glanced ahead of them to the Misty Mountains, judging their distance. She wondered how Shirk would react to the discovery that the human and his elven companions were heading towards his base. Too close for comfort, Kelt knew the merciless man would determine them a threat and take the elimination out of her hands. Somehow, she had to get to him before they reached the mountains or risk losing her quarry. If he went after the elves, she did not care, but she was almost sure he would go after the human as a lesson to her. That was something she did not want to happen. One, because she would lose her game. Two, because punishment would then fall on her head for failure. She would not be punished for the sake of a human, no matter how skilled.

Yet she could not attack here. The two elves, identical, would likely not easily be turned aside, and she already had enough problems without adding two more she did not know how to deal with. She would need a plan, and for that she needed time.

She narrowed her eyes and continued to creep after the unsuspecting entourage.

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

Aragorn stared up at the mountains that towered over the three brothers, tall and majestic in the rising light, their tips sprinkled with snow as winter approached and the temperatures grew colder. They looked peaceful enough, but to his mind, a darkness seemed to cling to them--darkness that had nothing to do with the shadows cast by the sun.

The human sighed and pushed at his food absently, unable to marshal his thoughts. It had taken nigh on three days to reach their current location, and it would be another day before they reached the foot of the great mountains. Fatigue was clawing at him as the days passed and his sleep was disturbed. The peace and seeming tranquility that surrounded him was almost more unsettling than the strained anticipation that usually heralded an orc or warg attack. That they had come across neither sight nor sound of any creature outside the occasional bird or insects in all the whole area in their many days of travel was beginning to weigh heavily on the Dúnadan's mind. Something was not right; he could sense it. He just could not place what it was.

He frowned, his fork still tracing idle patterns in his breakfast as he gazed unseeing at the mountains in the distance.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Aragorn started slightly and turned to face Elrohir before glancing down at his plate. He offered a sheepish smile before returning to his meal. Yet his thoughts refused to stray from their occupation with the darkness. He tasted not what he ate as he ate automatically, his mind once more far away in disturbed thought and conjecture.

He had heard many accounts of the attacks which had occurred here, some told by survivors and some conjured by the frightened who had heard rumors. Each one traced through his mind, playing itself out as his imagination filled in detail he had and created what he lacked, allowing each scene to flash behind his eyes and see everything that took place. He was looking for something. What that something was, he could not say. He wished he had more information.

The last scene played out before his eyes even as he finished his breakfast. Then, released from the task with the ending of his thoughts and the completion of the routine, he stood and crossed to help the elven twins clear camp and get ready to depart again.

Elladan glanced at the mountains. "We should reach the bottom of the peaks by about this time tomorrow." He glanced back at the two with him. "From there, I do not know."

"We'll figure it out," Elrohir put in quietly, no more at ease than either of his brothers. A shadow had been growing in the back of their minds, quiet and illusive, but all the more poignant for the fact that it never faded nor grew stronger but simply persisted. It was unlike anything they had felt before, and none could explain it, though the twins thought the sensation might be familiar.

Without further comment, the trio continued on towards the mountain. Slowly but steadily their peaks grew until the mountains before them filled their entire vision and lest they turn from their path they could not escape it. And still they had yet to reach the mountains that were their destination.

Suddenly, Elladan stopped.

"I do not like this," he murmured, looking at neither brother, his dark eyes locked onto the mountain. "Something dark lies here."

Almost against his will, Elrohir pried his own gaze away from the towering formations of hard and unforgiving rock. "I feel it also brother. Though the evil has not increased."

"Orcs do not reside here."

"That is what I read also, brother."

Aragorn looked between the two, well used to such--at least to him--meaningless babble between them. He felt something, to be sure, but he could not claim he felt what the elves felt, for he had not the slightest idea of what was ailing them. "Then what, if not Orcs?" he asked.

The elves started, almost as if they forgot the human were still with them, and both turned to look at him with slightly wide eyes. "I know not," Elladan answered. "But we should not be here."

"And yet we must," the Ranger insisted, knowing--indeed feeling--that this is where he could find his answers. Just inside his perception lingered a darkness, like a hidden threat, one that if it was not brought to the light would be sure to wreak havoc upon all the lands of Middle-earth. Still, he did not understand what he felt, or how he knew this must be so--it would not be the last time--but he did know that he could not turn from this path, nor forsake this journey, any more than he could escape the destiny he had been born into; the one that dogged his steps and darkened his thoughts, forever present, pressing down on his shoulders the weight of a terrible responsibility he was not sure he could endure. "We must." He looked at them. "Do you not feel it?"

The sons of Elrond glanced at each other before looking again to the young human who had been thrown into their lives so little time ago--by elven standards, at least--and who now stood before them commanding a power they were sure the other was not aware of. There were moments when something greater shined through, when the Dúnadan was determined, usually, though those times were few and far between; a fact which was likely not a bad thing.

"What we feel is hard to qualify," Elladan answered eventually.

"This darkness," Elrohir continued the other's thoughts, almost as if they shared one brain, "is threatening. It is not safe."

"Few places are safe, brother," Aragorn countered. "As leader of my people, and by my heritage, the responsibility I hold, it is my duty to face the danger so the innocent might remain innocent. Do not tell me to turn aware from danger, my friends. It is a futile gesture, for I could no more do so than I can escape my destiny, as you have both informed me time and time again."

"There is something more to this darkness, Estel," Elrohir hissed. "Something deeper."

"Something that whispers of dread, that seeks that which should not be found."

"It would be folly to reveal yourself to the enemy."

Aragorn stared down the two elves, his course of action already firmly implanted in his mind. "I hear your warnings and I will be careful, but try no more to dissuade me for you will not succeed. I must walk this path, even as I have already walked such paths and will walk others in the future. The only question is if you are to come with me or return to Rivendell."

"Nay, brother," Elrohir objected.

Elladan picked up, "That is no question. We would never leave you to such danger out of choice. Know that if you ever have need of us, you have but to call."

Aragorn clasped his brother's forearm gratefully, his gratitude fully evident in his eyes as Elladan returned the gesture. Elrohir grasped the human's arm as well, though they did not linger long before turning to face the mountains once again.

"Where do we start?" Elrohir questioned dubiously. "It will take many a day and night to search the entirety of this place. We have not the time, even if we had the inclination."

"Not together," Elladan agreed.

"Ai," Aragorn seconded. "We shall have to part ways. We can cover more land separately rather than together."

Elrohir turned to him horrified. "We can not leave you alone, Strider."

"'Tis a shame, then, for you cannot stay with me, not if we want to get this done as quickly as possible. I will not leave until I know what haunts this land and drives away the animals." The fervor in his eyes caused the young twin to back down, but Elladan was not so easily swayed.

"Estel! Do you not understand--"

"I understand the danger as well as you do," Aragorn interrupted firmly. "Both to myself, and those I am sworn to protect. Do not fight me, Elladan, and let the Shadow win this victory as well!"

Elladan looked down, a scowl twisting his fair features momentarily as he fought within the same battle of wills that was occurring without. He never wanted to see his human brother hurt. Yet he knew in his heart that he would never be able to keep the other truly safe. The son of Arathorn's fate would not allow it. Finally, he looked back up. "Be careful," he intoned. "Protect your life as you would protect ours, for we could not stand to lose you, Estel." His eyes pierced the Ranger's, begging the man's compliance and assurance that they would yet see each other again, well and whole.

In the steady silver gaze of the Dunadan, he found what assurance could be given any in dark times: the knowledge that the other would do his best and never give up, that darkness would not claim his soul and if fate permitted, they would meet again on this side of the sea. Elladan nodded, satisfied, if not happy. Elrohir only nodded miserably, knowing with Elladan's acceptance there was nothing more to be said.

Wordlessly, the three split and slunk quietly and quickly through the remaining cover to the mountains, hoping to remain unnoticed for as long as possible before revealing themselves. Each headed in a different direction with Aragorn traveling further north. A feeling of malicious delight nearly froze him in his tracks, but he forced himself to move on. Similar pauses from the other elves, who were not yet beyond his hearing, told him they had felt it, too, and were choosing to go on. Aragorn nodded and continued.

He reached the beginning of the mountains and climbed the small incline before dropping down into a dip. He crouched, exploring some of the rocks beneath his feet before moving on. There was nothing there for him to discover. Boulders and other similar obstacles were climbed over or around as the Ranger moved carefully over the terrain, searching for any sign that he was approaching what he searched. He suspected he would find nothing if their lack of success previously was any indication. Whoever had left that trail from the campsite seemed to be a fluke. Yet . . . he still could not shake the feeling that he would find something this day.

He continued on.

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

Kelt cursed fiercely as the trio finally reached the foot of the mountains. She had not intended to let them get this far. There would be more than trouble for just the human and his companions if Shirk got wind of this. She hoped desperately that the Slyntari were not watching; she wanted the human. If they learned of her failure to keep them away from the mountains, they would take her sport from her.

She frowned as she saw them stop, looking ill at ease, and begin their discussion. She crept forward softly, intending to deal with the human now, whether the elves then learned of her or not. She could not allow them to get closer; they were already too close. Yet she paused, parts of their hushed conversation floating to her keen ears on the slight breeze.

Some instinct cautioned her to stillness, to patience, and once again she listened, though impatience pressed at her, demanding she act. Luckily, it was not long before they started walking again. Only this time, they were not all traveling the same direction. Each chose a different path. A feral smile split her lips. This was what she had been waiting for. Now was the time to act.

She abandoned following the path already trod and circled around, attempting to get ahead of the human. She would surprise him. Yes, now the game would begin. The human was hers.

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

Deep in the tunnels, several dark figures stood together, a single torch providing the only illumination for the relatively small cavern. A youngish looking figure stood before the group of elder beings who glared, their expressions fierce and unrelenting. The youth quaked slightly, desperately wishing he was anywhere else.

"You are sure?" inquired a voice that was cold and hard as steel but betrayed no real emotion.

"Y-yes, my lord. A human and two elves search the mountains. They arrived not long ago."

Another spoke up, a woman this time, though her voice was the same as the other's. "You think it is the same human Kelt was to take care of."

"Obviously, she needs another lesson," he declared. "This one, she shall not forget."

Smiles, if indeed they could be called such, graced the features of each individual in the room--save the messenger--and twisted their faces, warping them into a parody of the humor and joy that a smile usually conveyed.

Quickly, the messenger left the room released from his duty, shivers chasing up and down his spine. Dark eyes followed his retreat.

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

Rocks skittered down quickly, bouncing and clacking as they raced for the bottom of the ravine. Aragorn froze and glanced back guiltily at having made so much noise and possibly given away his position. He had not fully realized how crumbly his chosen course was until he was halfway up its side, high enough to make going back delicate but too far away to wholly justify continuing on to the top. He kept going, however, for he had glimpsed something atop the rise that piqued his interest and he knew not another way to reach it.

Silence followed as the small stones reached the bottom, a silence nothing disturbed, and the ranger began to hope that his slip had not been noticed. He returned his climbing, taking more care this time on where he placed his hands and feet. Somehow he reached the top without further incident--a feat that would have impressed his brother's had they been present to witness it.

He stood on the top, roughly sixty feet higher than the surrounding area--not truly a significant distance--and looked out over the forests that he was high enough to see over and observed the beauty of the realm. Lush green grasslands extended as far as his eyes could see to the west and he knew that somewhere, further than even elven eyes could pierce, lay The Shire where the hobbits kept their peace; which dragged a smile onto his face. Trees tapered off into the distance, some standing alone like silent sentinels away from their brethren, slumped or straight, thick or thin, tall or slumped, but all standing silent and unmoving.

The man could just glimpse the sparkle of light off water in the distance and knew it to be a small pond he had once chanced upon some years ago while wandering in the Wild. To the north, the Misty Mountains continued for many miles before curving west and stood tall and silent, unforgiving and majestic, though they could not lay claim to the same deceptive beauty that graced their southern kin. He looked to the south and thought he could just mark where Rivendell would be. A smile split his lips until movement caught his eye.

He frowned and focused his attention where he had caught the slight fluctuation. Nothing presented itself to his gaze. The Dúnadan scanned the area carefully before returning his attention to that single glade. Something was there, he was sure of it. He stepped to the side, moving carefully along the edge.

Not carefully enough.

The stone upon which he stood gave way and dropped quickly from beneath his feet. A strangled cry of surprise was wrenched from his lips as his eyes widened. He tried to step backwards, but never made it and dropped just as quickly as the gray stone around him, sliding down some parts and free falling in others, bumped and bruised on his way down. Luckily he fell only thirty-six feet, though that was by no means a small distance, and Aragorn realized it could have been much worse.

He stopped quickly as he reached the bottom, his remaining air forced from his lungs at the impact, and the dust that was roused choking him and sending him into a coughing fit that did nothing for his tortured lungs. Bright spots danced briefly before his eyes before disappearing quickly once he actually managed the task of drawing air into his lungs.

The ranger sat quietly for a few moments, attempting to bring his racing heart back under control and clear his head, which he now noticed throbbed painfully. He vaguely remembered striking a rock on the way down and hoped he did not have a concussion. He had enough experience with those to know he had no desire to gain more.

Gingerly, the man stood and looked around. He appeared to be in a dip of some kind and boulders stood to either side of him, closing him in their midst and hindering his escape from the area. Apparently, they had also halted his descent of the other twenty-four feet he had scaled.

"How to get out," he murmured softly, annoyed enough to think aloud and not expecting a response. Thus, he jumped slightly when he received one.

"Perhaps I could help with that." He looked up to see two clear blue eyes staring down at him out of a young face, just a touch of mirth dancing in their depths. A girl, his startled mind provided, though what she was doing in these desolate lands he could not say. "Need a hand, kind sir?"

He glanced around with a nod. "Assistance would be greatly appreciated, my lady, if you would be so kind as to fetch it."

She smiled brightly down at him. "A moment." She disappeared from view and he could hear quick and quiet footsteps moving a short distance away. Sounds of what could have been a person riffling through a pack reached his ears and he frowned slightly as he wondered what the young one might be doing. The sounds from above moved towards the rock face before disappearing and then a rope was tossed down to him and the girl peered at him over the edge once again. "You can climb, can you not?" she inquired with a hint of amusement in her clear voice.

He offered her a mirthless smile and grabbed the rope. Her gaze followed his progress with a slight frown until he neared the top, when she pulled back, maintaining a slight distance. The Dúnadan felt that she was hovering (well used to the tactic from his brothers), granting him space to accomplish his task on his own but near enough to help if he should falter.

The thought gave him pause and he wondered at it, for the girl could be no older than twenty. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on gaining the landing and firm stone beneath his feet.

"You surprised me," she announced once he had gained his feet as she moved to retrieve her rope from where she had tied it. "Not many people live this far out and it has been long since I last encountered one. Surely you would know these lands are unstable so close to the mountains? The tunnels seem to have worn away from below and the sun beats down from above. Are you well?"

Suspicion had edged his thoughts when she had appeared, but he found them mostly disappearing, melting away much like snow in the summer heat. It helped, of course, that his head was spinning. "I am well," he assured.

"Men," she murmured with a shake of her head. "It is amazing how similar you all are, but alas, 'twould be folly to assume different. You all seem to desire making light of your ills and ails, even when simply admitting the momentary weakness could make so much more later unnecessary." She moved back to a small pack settled near a boulder and seated herself on it as she returned the rope to the pack and delved in it once again. She glanced up and waved him over. "Let me see to that cut on your head, kind sir, whether you be ill or not, and mayhap the fates will look more kindly upon you and spare you further hurt!" Amusement sparkled in her bright eyes and he found himself responding in kind as he moved and sat before her, crossing his legs before himself, and she shifted forward to get at his head.

He wondered at her. Her looks would have him think her a child, and yet her words betrayed an age and experience he had a hard time attributing to a youth. Indeed, her words hinted at a hard life he would wish on no one so young as her, though that was something he was not sure how he came upon, as her voice was light and held no hint of trials. And even had she suffered, he realized the times were dark. Still, it raised the question of why she was here.

"Have you experienced this personally?" he inquired quietly as she gently and expertly cleaned his forehead of blood and dirt. "Surely you are too young to have experienced such hardships."

Her eyes were distant as she continued to silently clean his small injury; clouded with what memory, he could not tell. He was about to ask her pardon when she spoke. "Much has the opportunity to happen in these days, whether we will or no. I imagine many have experienced more than they would."

"What happened?"

"It is not important," she replied with a quick shake of her head, her gaze abruptly returning to the moment, and she quickly secured a bandage over the wound. "Is there any other injury you might have seen fit to overlook?" she inquired archly, deftly changing the subject.

He allowed the switch and shook his head. "Nay, lady. I seem to have been fortunate this time and suffered only this small bump to my head."

She smiled. "That is well."

"What calls one so young so far from everything?" he questioned, trying to figure her out, for she was puzzling to his still aching head.

"One will go where one must go," she replied, her smile becoming somewhat sad. "We must do what we are told."

He nodded, aware, suddenly, that she had yet to truly answer one of his questions. Vague suggestions were all she had offered, and yet he could not fault her, for they were delicate issues he had called up.

And yet, the unease that had departed made another grasp at his heart. She was hiding something. He was sure of it, but what? He pushed those concerns aside and determined to get to know the young one better. He smiled slightly. "Might I know your name?" he inquired.

She laughed, a musical sound that seemed to sit odd on her shoulders, like she had not laughed much in all of her short years. "I doubt you would know it," she told him.

That response elicited a wider smile from the ranger. "Indeed. What might I call you, my lady?"

There was a beat of silence, then, "Kalyamuina."

"A pleasure to meet you, Kalyamuina," he replied, intrigued. Kalyamuina, hidden light. Who would have given this one an elvish name? She was human, clearly, as she did not possess the graceful pointed ears of the elves. He was fairly certain he would know if there had been another human child accepted into the family of another elf. "I am Strider," he told her, "Ranger of the north."

Something akin to surprise flashed through her eyes nearly too quickly to mark before pleasure pushed it aside. "No indeed, it is my pleasure to meet you, Strider. I have never met a Ranger before," she concluded, giving him an odd look that again made him pause.

"You may wish that remained true before long, lady, for I am told trouble follows me everywhere."

She glanced up at the landing he had fallen from. "I dare say you speak truly, Ranger, though I think you may underestimate the case, if this sort of thing happens to you often."

He followed her gaze up. "Nay, I do not often have opportunity to fall from cliffs," he denied. "More often my trouble arrives in the form of orcs."

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "No orcs around here." With that she stood and began walking away. He stared after her for a moment before also gaining his feet and following her. No orcs? Since when? He frowned as those questions shot his unease up another notch. What was this one not telling him? He feared he would not like the answer when he got it.

If he had known how right he would be, perchance he would have turned the other way and not followed her, but he did not know, and curiosity has always been a bane among all peoples, be they men, elves, or dwarves.