Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.
A/N:
*huggles readers* Thank you all SO MUCH for your Birthday wishes! I had in fact quite a lot of fun on my birthday, even the weather was really nice! And for all those people who congratulated me on being able to drink alcohol now: Here you are allowed to drink alcohol when you turn 18. You are an adult with 18, but in court you are still treated like a child in some cases. Until you're 21, so that's over now! *sighs* All the great things I still wanted to do... *g*
Oh, a little warning beforehand: The next weeks will get even more chaotic than the previous month, so once again I cannot guarantee that I will be able to update as frequently as now. Don't panic though, because I promise to try my best, okay? *g*
Well, so... *grabs Celylith from where Zam Kenobi has him stuffed in her closet* Yes, that was what I wanted to say: Could you please just nod when Zam tells you that Celylith is her husband? She is getting a little bit scary here, so just be nice and nod, okay?
Fine! Now that's resolved, on to the next chapter (it's already chapter 10, can you believe that? *shakes head*)! And since I know how much you like cliffies, here's another one! Don't even think about blaming me, it's all my alter ego's fault. Yes, it is. *g*
Have fun and review, please!
Chapter 10
Owaeran slowly stepped out into the corridor outside the bedroom he shared with his wife, closing the dark wooden door as soundlessly as possible.
It was almost ridiculous, he thought to himself as he tiptoed to reach the staircase that led downstairs. He was the master of this house, he had helped build it himself, and he was sneaking through the corridors like some sort of common thief?
But the trader knew perfectly well that he had to be very quiet, or Misien would be after him quicker than he could say "Good morning, my dear." His wife had adamantly insisted that he didn't disturb those "poor young lads" and especially the "boy" who had fallen into the lake. He had tried to convince her that at least two of the three "boys" were each older than all the humans under this roof combined, but his wife would hear nothing of it. If someone looked younger than her, her protective instincts flared to life, and nothing would change that.
He smiled softly. He dearly loved his wife, even after all these years, and he really did not want to anger her by going against her wishes, but he had to ask the ranger what had happened. The sight of King Thranduil's only son and heir, lying pale, bloodied and motionless in the other elf's arms was enough to give him nightmares for years to come.
He knew the woodland king quite well, as well as a Lake-man would ever be able to know the golden haired elf, and therefore could imagine what the elven king would say if the crown prince died in his, Owaeran's house.
"Bad for business" didn't even begin to describe it, he thought, avoiding the steps he knew to creak noisily and slowly making his way to the first floor. Besides, he really liked the fair haired elf, and owed him and the others a great deal. To have any of them die because of what Gwemyr had got himself into was an idea too frightening and horrifying to consider.
A floorboard creaked softly under his feet and he froze, listening for any indication that someone had heard the noise. Even though he was already too far away for his wife to hear him, he was close enough to a few of the servants' chambers, and, he thought wryly, beginning to move once again, there was only one thing more embarrassing than to be caught by his wife, and that was to be caught by his servants.
Owaeran quickly shot a look out of the window; dawn was already beginning to show in the East. The servants would get up soon. He quickly took the last steps into the directions of the guest quarters and, knocking slightly, he stepped into Prince Legolas' room.
He found himself face to face with an alert wood-elf who had one of his hands on his daggers that hung in leather sheaths on his belt and mustered him with an intensity that he couldn't bear for long, even after all the years of trading with the fair folk.
Averting his eyes, he nodded his head and said,
"Lord Celylith."
The elf stepped back and soundlessly pulled up another chair, placing it next to the bedside.
"Master Owaeran. Please, sit."
The elderly man sat down, wondering for a moment how it was that all elves seemed to command such … respect, so to say. If the silver haired elf had told him to leave the room, he would have done so, without even thinking about protesting that this was his house.
He turned his eyes on the bed and the sleeping figure that almost disappeared under a mount of thick woollen blankets. All that could be seen of the elf that occupied it was the bandaged head … oh, and a hand that was being held by the sleeping ranger that sat next to the bed in an armchair. The younger man looked almost as pale and exhausted as the elven prince and, again just like the elf, incredibly young.
Owaeran turned back to the elf next to him and whispered,
"Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere else. I believe they need their sleep."
Celylith laughed softly and leaned back against the carved back of his chair, shaking his head.
"Don't worry, Master Human. My prince isn't due to wake up for some hours yet, and the only think that could rouse Strider now would be if Legolas moved. He wouldn't wake up even if you paraded a horde of oliphaunts across the room."
The man smiled slightly at the thought.
"How is the prince, then?"
Celylith turned serious again.
"Not so good, but Strider says he will be fine."
"Are you sure that we shouldn't send for a healer?" the man questioned. "I mean no disrespect of course, but are you sure that the ranger…"
"Yes, I am, Master Owaeran," Celylith said firmly. "Your concern is appreciated of course, but believe me when I say that Strider is one of the best healers on this side of the Misty Mountains. Perhaps even the best, if one disregards the Lady of the Golden Wood."
Owaeran closed his mouth again and shrugged lightly. If this elf was so sure about this and was willing to trust the younger man with his prince's life, then he would do the same.
"Very well then," he nodded. "But please, Lord Celylith, tell me: What happened? Have you found out something?"
The elf sighed, pushing a strand of gleaming hair behind a pointed ear.
"Yes, we have indeed. More than we had thought, and yet apparently not enough."
The man blinked slowly, forcing himself to silently count to ten. If there was something he hated about elves, it was their habit to answer questions in riddles or not at all.
"Please, Master Elf," he said, slight exasperation creeping into his voice, "I know how much your kind loves to confuse others, but please, do not torment me so. Have you learned something about my brother or not?"
Celylith smiled slightly.
"You are right, Master Human, forgive me. Let me put another log in the fire and then I will tell you all you want to know."
After stoking the fire, Celylith told the man all that had happened, all about what the barmaids had said and the memorable encounter with the unknown men. He closed with a recount of how they had fished Legolas out of the channel and how Aragorn had revived him.
When the elf leaned back in his chair after finishing the tale, Owaeran ran both his hands through his hair, with one ear noting that the servants were beginning to start their daily duties.
"Eru, 'tis a dark tale you tell, Master Elf."
"But it's the truth," a voice still rough from sleep said. Both he and the elf turned to look at the sleepy ranger that had apparently woken up some time ago. "And if anything, it is even more confusing now than before."
Aragorn saw the slightly worried look in the other man's eyes and added quickly,
"You did not wake me, do not worry. It is well that you are here, for I wished to speak with you as well."
Owaeran nodded.
"The men you met, they are serving my competitor, I think. The leader, was he a tall man with dark hair and a tattoo on his right wrist?"
Aragorn sat up a little bit straighter and carefully placed his elven friend's hand next to his still body.
"Yes. I have not seen his wrist since he wore a cloak, but the rest sounds right."
"I have seen it," Celylith confirmed. "During the fight the cloak shifted, and while I was blocking a blow from that wooden club, I could see the tattoo. A fox's head with bared teeth, I think."
"That is him," the older man nodded, "Even though a skunk would have been more appropriate if you ask me. He's called 'the Fox' because of his cunning and sly nature they say, hence the tattoo, and he's been working for my competitor for several years now."
"Then we do have the proof that that gentleman is not the one behind your brother's disappearance," Aragorn concluded. "But they have something to do with all this, I know it. They were very interested in what we know and why we were asking questions about your brother. I think they are trying to protect something, so to speak."
"And what would that be?" Celylith asked, arching a dark silver eyebrow.
The dark haired man shrugged.
"If I did know that, my friend, I would already be on my way asking this 'Fox' a few questions of my own."
"An investment," Owaeran said quietly, understanding dawning on his face. He raised his eyes to look in the curious faces of his guests.
"An investment," he repeated. "You must understand, my 'friend' is a trader to the core of his very heart. He would never do anything if it wasn't profitable for him, and the only thing he is interested in is his money, and how to get even more than he already has. There is one thing I can tell you: If he has sent these people to protect something, then it can only be money. And, if I know him at all, a lot of money."
"But what exactly would that have to do with your brother?" Celylith asked, looking even more confused than he had been before. To him the thought of going through all this trouble because of money seemed rather ridiculous. But then again, these were men, and men were known to desire what was worst for them.
"I haven't got the slightest idea," the trader admitted.
"Neither have I," Aragorn nodded grimly. "But I know a few people who do have the answers to these questions. I think it is time that we go and ask them."
Owaeran looked from Strider's face to that of the silver haired elven warrior, and came quickly to the conclusion that those men might have made a bigger mistake in attacking the prince than they could even imagine.
The first thing Legolas became aware of was a softly chanting voice in his head. He strained to understand what it was it said, but he just didn't have the energy to do anything, be it mentally or physically. With surprise he noted that he could hardly remember a time in his life when he had felt more exhausted, but then again, he didn't have the strength to think about that for long either.
While he was floating between waking and unconsciousness, the voice slowly became louder and clearer, and he could hear what it was that it was saying.
'Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold…'
With a mental headshake of disgust, Legolas tried to block it out. In his opinion it was a rather stupid thing to chant, especially because elves didn't get cold. The firstborn were more resilient than the younger races, and to feel cold was something unknown to most of them.
The voice chuckled at that, and images and memories flashed through his head with lightening speed, images of water, ice and a blinding pain situated directly behind his brow, and memories of deadly cold, a cold that seeped into his very bones and left him unable to move, unable to feel, unable to think…
'Curious,' he thought with an inward shudder. 'So that is what cold feels like?'
Slowly his hearing decided to work again, and after what seemed to be a year or two, he was able to make out some sounds around him. He could hear the soft breathing of a person to his right, and on his left the occasional ruffling of clothes when another person moved.
But the things that were really confusing him were the facts that first, he couldn't open his eyes, and that second, he didn't feel cold like his brain told him he rightly should. The last thing he could remember was feeling cold, so cold that he had felt as if he would never be able to move a muscle again.
While he was still contemplating how it was possible that he wasn't still feeling like that (he had already ruled out the possibility that the seasons had changed places and summer had made a sudden and unexpected appearance), a cool hand touched his forehead, lingering there for a moment.
"I think he is waking up," a voice he knew he should know said, and the hand travelled down to rest against his cheek. "Legolas? Can you hear me? You have slept long enough, my friend, it is time to wake now. And here I thought that elves needed little rest."
'Aragorn,' a voice in his head helpfully provided. 'That must be Aragorn, only he can be this annoying in so few sentences.'
Doggedly the elven prince worked his way all the way back to consciousness, refusing to let the tempting darkness pull him under again. Finally he managed to pry his eyelids open and, so happy with this achievement, did nothing but stare at the ceiling for a while, enjoying the warmth that seemed to envelop his whole body.
He knew this room, he decided, it was a guest room … somewhere.
Suddenly, a face appeared in his line of vision, so suddenly that he really couldn't tell where it had come from.
"Welcome back, Legolas," the face said, smiling down at him. A second hand appeared and pressed against the other side of his face to keep his head still while the person above him peered intensively into his still slightly glazed eyes. "Do you see double? Or blurry?"
Legolas frowned slightly, wondering for a moment how very odd these questions were. Why should he see double? The face was apparently not thinking clearly. Just then his mind shook off the last remnants of sleep, and the memories connected with his present condition and Aragorn's voice with the face looking down at him.
"Aragorn?" he asked, blinking slowly in confusion. He had almost not recognised his own voice that sounded rather un-elvish, hoarse and quite weak.
"That is one of his names," another voice to his left chimed in, amusement and relief clearly audible. "But don't try to enumerate the rest of them or we will still be here coming spring."
The hands holding his face were withdrawn, and Aragorn shot the person to Legolas' left a dark look. "Very funny indeed, Celylith."
Slowly Legolas turned his head to the left, already feeling much better now that he remembered what had happened.
"Celylith?" he asked. "You are alright?"
"Yes, my friend," the other elf assured him, briefly reaching out and pushing a strand of his friend's hair behind his ear, "I am just fine. You are the one who fell into the lake, not me."
"I didn't fall," Legolas protested, smiling slightly, trying to move under the mount of blankets that had been piled up over him and wincing in pain when the throbbing in his head redoubled at that. "I broke in. That's a difference."
"How do you feel?" Aragorn asked, redirecting Legolas' attention. "Do you have a headache? I don't think you have a concussion, but I want to be sure."
"I feel … fine," Legolas said slowly, trying to sit up and taking a deep breath when his side protested. What had he done to his side? He honestly couldn't remember. "Just a little confused, that's all. What happened?"
That was not the entire truth, of course. He did have a headache, a rather bad one, but there was no sense in giving Aragorn yet another reason to mother him.
Aragorn looked at his friend suspiciously. If he knew Legolas at all, then he was not 'fine'.
"Celylith can explain," he said, busying himself with the healing utensils that covered every square inch of the small table next to Legolas' bed.
While the other elf recounted everything that had happened since Legolas had broken through the ice yesterday night, Aragorn quickly mixed a few powders and crushed herbs in a goblet and added a mouthful or two of water.
Just when Celylith finished his tale, he reached out and placed the cup in his elven friend's hand.
"Here," he told Legolas. "Drink this."
The elven prince merely looked from the cup to the dark haired human as if he had spoken that last sentence in the Black Speech.
"Drink this? And why should I do that?"
Aragorn knitted his brows and glared at his friend, noting with satisfaction how Legolas averted his eyes under the look.
"It will help you with that non-existent headache of yours. And I promise it will not put you to sleep."
Legolas raised his eyes again, flinching inwardly when Aragorn's look became even more threatening. He would have to have a talk with Lord Elrond about this, he decided. There should be a law against teaching humans such things.
"I don't have a headache," he protested, doing his best to sound convincing.
Aragorn merely raised an eyebrow, and Legolas blanched. Dear Elbereth, now he looked even more like the Lord of Imladris, this was simply not fair…
"Then it won't hurt you to drink it, will it?" he asked, sounding as if he was reasoning with a stubborn, mentally retarded child. "Drink it."
Legolas found himself obeying, for the umpteenth time cursing Lord Elrond and his look. If he had never invented it, then he never could have taught it to his sons. So it was all his fault, and no-one but the Master of Rivendell could be blamed when his wayward children terrorised innocent elves and men with that accursed look of his.
Aragorn grinned smugly when his friend had emptied the cup, taking it back from him before Legolas had the chance to fling it into his direction which was obviously the only thought on the prince's mind right now, judging by his expression.
"See," the ranger told the fair haired elf, placing the goblet safely out of his friend's reach, "It wasn't that bad. If you're good I will even allow you out of bed today."
At this Legolas' mouth fell open with indignation and surprise. That … presumptuous, annoying, mothering human, who did he think he was? He was the Prince of Mirkwood and thousands of years older than this child that was thinking he could order him around!
"If you 'allow' me out of bed, human?" the prince asked, sitting up in his bed and ignoring the fact that his stomach felt rather queasy at that action. "We have a few questions to ask if it is true what you tell me, and I will not stay here like a child while you wander around this city getting yourself in trouble!"
Aragorn's eyes flashed at that.
"Yes, you will, elf," he said, trying to push the elf back onto his back. "You almost died yesterday! You will not leave this bed until I allow you to!"
"Oh, really?" Legolas countered, about to climb out of the bed. "Then I would advise you to watch closely, my friend, for that is exactly what I am doing!"
"You are not! You are not strong enough!"
"I am an elf, human! I am strong enough!"
"You are not! You are an idiot, nothing more."
Celylith leaned back into his chair, hiding a smile and at the same time deciding that he probably didn't even have to do that. It was obvious that those two had already forgotten that he was here.
Listening to the argument, he thought with a pang of regret that it was a real shame that he wasn't in Mirkwood. A few of his warrior had a bet going, a bet about who was more stubborn, Legolas or Aragorn. Secretly, the silver haired elf was convinced that they were both more stubborn than any other being he had ever had the misfortune to meet, but in this particuolar situation he believed he had placed a bet on Legolas winning after an argument of at least thirty minutes.
In his opinion it all depended on the circumstances, and right now he thought that Legolas would emerge victorious from this trial.
'But,' he thought, wincing when Legolas called Aragorn a "bossy, arrogant mother hen", 'it is a truly unique chance to witness this.'
Entertainment such as this one was extremely hard to come by.
Exactly forty-two minutes later, Aragorn stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a manner that would make his elven instructors cringe in embarassment. He didn't even see the servants that stared at him with wide eyes, for he was far too busy cursing Legolas in every language he had ever encountered.
'That idiotic, stubborn, reckless, thick-headed, haughty, arrogant, blind…'
When he was finished with insulting his friend in Westron, he moved on to Sindarin, then to Quenya, to the insults in Khuzdul he knew, and then to the dialects of the Rohirrim and the little that he knew of the tongues of the Southrons. Elrond had been adamant that he learned as many languages as he could, insisting that they would serve him well in later life, even though he probably would have been somewhat shocked to find that his young foster son had been concentrating on a rather disputable part of the vocabulary.
The young ranger stopped at the end of the hallway, seriously considering giving the carved balustrade a vicious kick. He abandoned that idea though, for it would probably not only serve to frighten the servants even more that were already looking at him as if he were a madman, but he would probably break a toe as well. That'd be just his kind of luck.
But really, he thought, calming down slightly, that … that … elf was just too irritating! Aragorn grasped the railing tightly and looked darkly down the stairs. He was only trying to help his friend, nothing more, and he was certainly not trying to 'mother' him. Ha, he and mothering Legolas! He was just acting like a responsible healer should, that was all.
But that stubborn, irritating wood-elf was not even listening to what he was saying! He had just stood there – swaying slightly, one might add by the way – and insisted that he was fine, thank you very much.
'Fine!' he fumed inwardly, 'Fine indeed! He is not fine! Eru, one of these days I will kill him! I really will.'
Despite his anger he heard the soft footfall of an elf that was drawing closer, and, knowing that Legolas was too intelligent to show his face just yet, he turned and looked at Celylith, who wore a wide, annoying grin and looked as if he had just won a lot of money – which he had, actually, since he had predicted an argument of at least thirty-eight minutes, but there was no way for the young human to know that.
"What?" he growled threateningly. "Don't say it. Whatever it is you want to say, if you are fond of the place your head is occupying right now and would like it to remain there, then don't say it."
"I wasn't about to say anything, ranger," Celylith assured him and carefully took a step backwards, away from the seething form of the young human. Aragorn hadn't really believed that Legolas would heed his commands and stay in bed, had he?
"I was just about to go down to the kitchens to see if they have anything left for us. We should get some food into him before we leave," the silver haired elf added, wincing inwardly when he saw Strider's darkening face. He probably shouldn't have mentioned the words "Legolas" and "leave" in one sentence, he decided.
"He's an elf, Estel," he said soothingly. "We know our limits. He is strong, and if he says he is fine, then he is."
The man merely looked at him with disbelief and something like pity in his eyes.
"How long do you know him now, Celylith?" he sighed.
The elf looked at him, a slightly confused expression on his fair face.
"Practically all my life, so that's more than 2500 years now. You know that."
Aragorn just smiled friendly at him.
"So you've known him for two and a half millennia and you truly believe what you have just said? I have known him for barely two years now, and even I know that Legolas isn't 'fine' when he says he is. There is 'fine'-fine and there is fine. Right now he is 'fine'-fine, believe me."
Celylith's mind still tried to come up with an answer to that as he attempted to come to terms with Aragorn's distinction of 'fine'-fine and just fine, wondering not for the first time if being this strange was still normal, when a timid voice on the stairs caught their attention.
"Strider? Could I have a word with you, please?"
Aragorn looked down the softly winding staircase to see Seobryn stand on the bottom step, looking up at them anxiously. He wondered for a moment why the boy was here because he was supposed to be with his Master visiting the storerooms and shops when he remembered that it was already nearing afternoon. He had been so fixed on Legolas that he hadn't noticed the passage of time.
Legolas … that annoying little…
Forcefully calming himself and silently vowing to do something horrible to his friend in the near future, he smiled at the younger man.
"Of course. Would you like to come up?"
Celylith traded one look with the ranger and quickly began to descend the staircase.
"I need to inform the kitchens."
Seobryn almost dragged Aragorn to the very end of the deserted corridor, looking anxiously around him. Inwardly the ranger wondered what the boy could have possibly done wrong in such short a time.
"What is it?" he finally asked when he could bear the other's squirming no longer. "Are you in trouble? Certainly not yet!"
"No!" Seobryn exclaimed, red as a radish now. "No, nothing is wrong, and what I have seen of the business is very interesting indeed."
"But?" the ranger asked confused. What could possibly have upset the other like this?
"Well," the boy began, beginning to fiddle with a strand of light brown hair. "Well … have you … have you ever … liked someone? A lot?"
Aragorn stared at him perplexedly. What in Ilúvatar's name was Seobryn talking about?
"Yes, of course. I mean, I like my family a lot, and…"
"No," Seobryn interrupted, turning even redder if such a thing was even possible. "I mean … a girl?"
The young man stared at the boy, feeling as if someone had just emptied a bucket of cold water over his head. That was it what all this was about? Elbereth, why him?
"So it is the fair Seveawen we speak of, yes?" he asked with a small smile.
Seobryn lowered his head.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"Very," Aragorn agreed somewhat dryly. "And she also seems to have her own opinions."
"Yes!" Seobryn beamed. "She is wonderful! But … but…"
"But what? Just talk to her, get to know her a bit better…"
"Talk!? I cannot talk to her!" Seobryn exclaimed mortified, his face now the colour of dark bricks. "I cannot even look at her without blushing! How could I talk to her? What should I say? What if I embarrass myself and she laughs? Or thinks I'm an idiot? What then?"
Aragorn resisted the very tempting urge to simply run away. He hadn't much experience in these matters and was certainly not the best person to ask. If Legolas ever heard about this…
Suddenly, a wicked grin began to spread over his face.
"Listen to me, Seobryn," he said solemnly, "I am not the best to give counsel in such matters, for I am hardly older than you. But do you know what? The prince is more than 2500 years old, and he has been in such situations many, many times." To be honest, Aragorn had no idea whether this was the truth or not, but it sounded rather good. "Legolas has a lot of experience in the matters of the heart. I am sure he could help you … you two could compose a poem or something like that."
He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing. Seobryn however looked rather convinced, even though a bit frightened at the prospect of having to talk to an elf about this.
"Do you think he would help me?" he asked timidly, the urge to finally speak to his love apparently outweighing the resident fear that he still had of the elves.
"Oh, I am sure," Aragorn nodded. "He is very good at composing. Just go to him now. He will have time for you now."
Seobryn smiled at him.
"Thank you very much, Estel. Thank you."
He turned and quickly walked away into the direction of Legolas' room, leaving a broadly grinning Aragorn behind. Oh, the ranger thought, this was priceless. The thought of Legolas being stuck in a room with a love-struck human boy, composing poems to the boy's love was almost too much to bear.
'Yes,' he thought as he was quietly walking down the stairs, still grinning from ear to ear, 'Revenge is sweet indeed.'
"You will die for this, dúnadan. Mark my words."
Celylith raised his eyes to the heavens and watched the sun slowly go down behind the towering houses. In the beginning this had been rather amusing, he thought, but now the constant threats that Legolas was uttering quietly were beginning to get on his nerves.
Very well, he amended, in the beginning it had been very amusing. It would be quite a long time indeed until he forgot the look of embarrassment and anger Legolas had worn when he had joined them in the kitchens, glaring daggers at the young ranger.
He stopped himself from chuckling loudly. He had to remember never to get Aragorn angry at him, the silver haired elf decided thoughtfully. The thought of Legolas writing love poetry was just…
In front of him, Legolas' mumbling once again became audible.
"You will pay for this, human. I will think of something, and then may the Valar protect you…"
On hearing his friend's incensed voice Aragorn couldn't stay silent any longer.
"Why so angry, my friend? I am sure you two came up with an adorable verse."
Celylith winced. He wasn't sure if this had been the right thing to say. Ever since they had left Owaeran's house two hours ago Legolas had been like this, mumbling threats under his breath. Aragorn's mood wasn't much better, since Legolas had removed the bandage around his head, claiming that he was perfectly alright. Aragorn had got rather … upset by his friend's "reckless, irresponsible" behaviour, and so the two had done little more than glare at each other most of the time.
Legolas shot the dark haired human a scathing glare.
"That was one of the most evil things you have ever done, Strider."
"You deserved it," Aragorn replied, returning the look in kind. "Besides, Seobryn needed some help."
"So you sent him to me?" Legolas exclaimed. "Why didn't you help him?"
"Because, as you are so fond of remembering me all the time, you are thousands of years older than me. I am sure you have a lot more experience than I do in these matters."
"I?" the elven prince whirled around to face the young ranger. "I? Do I look like someone who spends his time composing bad love poetry?"
Celylith stopped as well, an evil twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Well, I do remember a time when we were both about three hundred years old and the Lady Galadriel came to visit. One of her handmaidens was quite beautiful, and I distinctly remember a certain young elf who did nothing but…"
He would have said more, but at this point Legolas hurriedly clamped his hand over the other elf's mouth.
"A certain young elf who did what?" Aragorn asked, beginning to grin as well.
"Nothing," Legolas replied quickly, closing his other hand in a vice-like manner around Celylith's arm. "Right, mellonamin?" He let go of the other and glared at him.
"Right, my lord," Celylith replied, winking at the young ranger. "The certain young elf didn't spend his time under her window singing one love song after the other. He did nothing."
Aragorn almost collapsed onto the ground with laughter, and Legolas gave his friend a look so hot that it would have put even Gandalf to shame.
"A very unwise decision, Celylith. I know a lot of embarrassing stories about you as well."
"But, as you constantly remind me, you best me in everything. Your stories are much more embarrassing than mine, my prince."
Aragorn shortly stopped howling like a wounded hyena and looked at the silver haired elf with expectant eyes.
"Really?"
"No," Legolas replied curtly, annoyance creeping into his voice. His head was starting to hurt again, and together with his aching ribs did little to improve his temper. "Come now, we still haven't found out anything about this 'Fox'. If we want to reach the piers before nightfall we have to hurry."
He stepped closer to his human friend and grasped his arm to pull him upright, only to draw back in shock when Aragorn hissed in pain and withdrew, holding his right upper arm.
"Aragorn? What is it? Are you hurt?" Legolas asked, looking at the man in concern.
The young ranger straightened himself and grimaced. Wonderful, now he had done it…
"No. It's just a scratch. A bolt nicked me on that pier."
Both of Legolas' eyebrows climbed up his forehead until they threatened to disappear into his hairline.
"A scratch? Strider, the last time you had a 'scratch' we almost had to amputate your arm!"
"Uhm, there I was younger and more reckless?" Aragorn asked, looking innocent.
"Younger? It was last spring!"
Aragorn shrugged nonchalantly and quickly began to walk down the bridge to prevent his friend from expecting his wound. Legolas just stared after his human friend, anger and worry boiling in his chest. Why hadn't that reckless human told him?
"'Tis truly just a scratch, Legolas," Celylith said quietly as they followed Aragorn down the pier, walking back to the spot where they had fished the elven prince out of the water only a few hours earlier. "I bound it myself. It will be gone in a week."
"That's not the point," the other elf retorted as they rounded a corner and neared the pier, "He should have told me."
"So you can mother him?" Celylith asked, eyes twinkling.
"I do not mother him! Or anyone!" Legolas protested, staring at his friend in indignation.
Right then they reached the pier and Celylith was spared an answer. Various people in various inns had pointed them here, claiming that the 'Fox' spent a lot of time here. If they would find anyone that could tell them where he was, it would be here.
The three of them looked around, trying to decide what to do, when a surprised voice behind them called out,
"Well, if that aren't the people who are so fond of midnight swims!"
The two elves and the human turned, and were surprised to see Tellyn stand in front of them, grinning cheekily.
"Tellyn!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Yes, we decided to honour your invitation. I think that we forgot to introduce ourselves yesterday. These are Legolas and Celylith from Mirkwood, and my name is Strider."
The older man nodded his head at the elves.
"A pleasure to see you well again. It is a miracle you survived at all, let are alone on your feet."
Legolas bowed his head.
"Strider has told me what has happened. I am in your debt, Mater Human. If there is any way I can repay you for your kindness…"
Tellyn waved his hand dismissively.
"'Twas nothing, Master Elf. I have had enough of fishing corpses out of the lake."
The three looked at each other.
"It was you who found that man a few days ago?" Aragorn asked.
"Aye," the older man nodded. "And a damn ugly business it was too. Someone bludgeoned him quite a bit." He grimaced in thought. "Then there was the slit throat, of course… Poor fellow. He didn't deserve such an end. He might have been a hothead, yes, but not a bad man…"
"You know who he was?" Celylith asked the man unbelievingly.
"Why, yes," Tellyn shrugged, carefully sitting down on a crate near the water's edge. "Of course. Young Drabo came here quite often, and he was always pleasant company. Even though I didn't agree with the choices he made, especially the ones concerning his friends. Some of them were bad company, they were."
The three looked at each other, the same understanding etched into each face: Drabo had to be Gwemyr's friend whose name began with 'D'.
"What kind of friends?" Legolas asked carefully, studying the elderly human's face.
"Oh, some of them were nice enough fellows, but there were some that were … not," Tellyn explained shortly. "Most were rich lads from the eastern part of the town, you know the lot. Always looking for an 'adventure', never working for their living. The others though…"
"The 'Fox'," Aragorn hazarded a guess, narrowing his eyes at him. "He was one of them?"
"How did you know?" the older man asked suspiciously.
"We are looking for him," Aragorn explained, pulling his cloak tighter around his body. The wind was picking up now that the sun was beginning to set, and large snowflakes began to fall once again.
"Stay away from him," Tellyn advised them, looking at them intently. "He's no-one you want to talk to. He's ruthless and brutal, and he's not too fond of elves, I've heard."
"So we've seen," Celylith muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.
"Do you know where we can find him?" Legolas asked Tellyn.
"If he isn't here, he will be in an inn called the "Empty Tankard" on the northern island," Tellyn shrugged. "He and his friends do nothing but drink and look for trouble, they do. I for my part like a little ale or two once in a while myself, but some things are just too much." He looked at the elves and the ranger, eyes almost pleading in the twilight. "Stay away from him. He doesn't think twice before drawing his knife, and he knows how to use it."
Legolas smiled grimly, eyes dark as coals.
"So do we. Thank you, Master Human; your help is greatly appreciated."
"If you won't listen to what I say, then at least wait until tomorrow to go to him. It's getting dark; now it would be suicide. He knows that part of the town better than anyone else." Tellyn shot them a wry look. "Surely better than you."
Legolas hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slowly.
"You are right, Tellyn. Thank you again, one day I will find a way to repay you for your help."
The two elves gave slight bows and turned back the way they had come, walking over the freshly fallen snow with ease. Aragorn gave the older human a smile and was about to follow them when a hand grabbed his elbow.
"Be careful, lad," Tellyn told him, looking at him seriously. "You three are brave, but what you do is stupid, very stupid. Take care. I do not want to fish you three out of the lake next."
"We will be," the young ranger smiled and nodded. "Thank you for your help, Tellyn."
The dark haired man turned and walked after the two elves, and Tellyn couldn't help but wonder in what condition he or his body would be in the next time he saw him.
"Well, that was interesting," Legolas said quietly as they were nearing Owaeran's house, the snow swirling around them now. "So we've found the gentleman with 'D'."
"But someone found him first," Celylith remarked dryly.
"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "But at least now we know where the connection between Gwemyr and Owaeran's competitor originated from."
"Drabo and 'the Fox'," Legolas nodded shortly, hiding a grimace when his head told him in no uncertain terms what it thought of such an action. "But why should 'the Fox' and his friends kill Drabo? It doesn't make any sense."
"I don't think it was them," Aragorn said slowly. "There must be a third group at work here."
"Elentári!" Celylith sighed dramatically. "A third one?" After a second he looked at them, eyes serious under his silver hair. "You do forget one thing: What is this all about? What is the motive? What is it they are willing to kill for?"
"Money, as Owaeran said," the young ranger said softly, disgust in his voice. "They are men, what else do you expect? With men it is always about money or power. Such are the ways of my kind."
Legolas and Celylith stopped to look at the man, the trader's house already visible a few hundred yards to their right.
"Not all men are like that, Aragorn," Legolas said seriously, looking into the grey eyes that refused to meet his gaze. "You cannot judge a whole race by the conduct of few, nor can you fault a young race for the mistakes it makes. Men are very young yet, and they might learn in the ages to come. Not all men only desire power, my friend. You have taught me that."
The dark haired human raised his head and gave both of his elven friends a grateful smile.
"Thank you."
The two only nodded their heads, and together they made their way over to Owaeran's house. Celylith's hand had hardly touched the door handle when the door flew open, the bright light that poured out of the doorway lighting the whole catwalk.
"There you are!" Seobryn exclaimed exasperatedly. He gave Legolas a conspiratorial wink which almost cost Celylith and Aragorn their composure; only the dark glare the fair haired elf gave them saved them from breaking into laughter right there and then. Seobryn didn't seem to notice, for he only pulled back the door and invited them to come in. "There is someone here that would like to speak with you."
Intrigued, the three of them stepped over the threshold, Aragorn giving the nearly empty catwalk in front of the house a cursory glance before entering the house. Something had seemed odd … there was something that triggered something in his brain…
While a servant took their cloaks, Seobryn explained,
"We don't know who she is. She wouldn't talk to the Master or the Mistress but has insisted on talking to 'the elves'. She says that it is very important."
"Slowly, Seobryn," Legolas said, shaking his head slightly. "Who are you taking about?"
"The girl," the young man explained, looking as if that was the obvious answer. "She arrived here shortly after you left. She says there is something you need to know."
Looking at his friends, the elven prince shrugged gracefully after a moment.
"Very well, then please show us to her," he said, nodding at Seobryn who gave a quick bow and began to make his way down a passage to their right.
Aragorn was about to follow them when he stopped, feet rooted to the spot. Now he knew what had seemed off on the catwalk: There had been a man, a man he was sure he had seen before. A man he had in fact seen in the last tavern they had visited yesterday, shortly after they had got the feeling that they were being observed.
This couldn't be a coincidence, he thought grimly, that man was watching them.
He quickly turned into the direction Seobryn and the others had gone, but they had already rounded a bend and had disappeared from view. The young man needed only a second to make up his mind and turned back to the door, snatching his cloak from the hands of a startled servant.
He had just opened the door when the servant came rushing after him.
"Sir! Please, where are you going!? It is getting dark outside!"
Aragorn looked at the man, not having the time to explain his actions. If he didn't act soon, the man might be gone.
"Tell Lord Legolas and the others that I have recognised someone on the catwalk outside. I will be back in a minute."
He quickly closed the door behind him, leaving the servant standing in the corridor who studied the snow that had been carried into the building and wondered what he had done to deserve this. If he knew these people at all, the elves would not be happy to hear that the ranger had gone off by himself…
Outside, Aragorn was thinking the exact same thing, but he was pushing these thoughts aside quickly when he saw the man he was looking for round a corner on the far side of the little bridge that separated the two rows of houses.
Very well, he thought as he quickly made his way over to that corner, they would see what happened if they attacked his friends!
He carefully stepped around the corner onto a small alley-like bridge, and instantly his survival instincts flared to life. He took another five or six steps, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and the warning that had been whispered in his mind was suddenly screamed by half a dozen voices. There was something wrong here, this was a…
Suddenly, a bright light lit up a few dozen steps in front of him, and he stumbled back, instinctively closing his eyes against the harsh light that assaulted them and cursing under his breath. He wrenched his sword from its sheath and turned, just in time to parry a blow that had been aimed at his head. His eyes still wouldn't fully co-operate, and so he only saw a slightly blurry shadow that held a sword and moved quickly to strike again.
Aragorn blocked the attack with ease, and just when he was about to go into the offensive as he had been taught, he heard a softly crunching noise behind him. In a split second he realised what that meant: There was another man in this alley. There were two of them!
'Of course there are,' a small voice in his head murmured, 'Who do you think lit that light?'
The young ranger was turning with lightening speed, bringing up his sword to protect himself against this new threat, but it was not fast enough. A hard blow caught his right arm at the exact same spot the crossbow had hit him, and the dark world exploded in bright pain.
He was thrown into the wall of one of the houses to his left by the force of the blow, and his right hand opened on its own account to release his blade, the muscles spasming with pain. Aragorn waited for a moment for the pain to die down, but when it didn't, he clenched his teeth and tried to reach one of his daggers with his left, but when he saw a shadow step closer, he knew that it wouldn't be fast enough.
The second blow landed squarely on his left temple, and in the split second that lay between the blinding pain and unconsciousness he decided that this would make Legolas very, very unhappy indeed.
Then the darkness washed over him and pulled him under, and that was the last thing he thought for quite a long while.
TBC...
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger
mellonamin - my friend
Mhahahaha! *evil laugh* Cliffy! *hits herself* Sorry, that was HER, my alter ego, I mean. I am truly sorry, but I seem to be unable to stop her, not that I _want_ to, anyway... *g* Okay, as promised, we have lots of Legolas angst and Estel tort..., uhm, I mean, Estel in the next post. Please don't kill me, always remember: Dead authors tend to update rather infrequently. A review might help though. What do you think? Review? Please? *puppy dog eyes*
Additional A/N:
Helen T - *g* It was 'only' Legolas that feel into the lake? *g* Don't let certain people here hear that! I am very much looking forward to that review you promised me! Thanks for the reviews!
Gwyn - Well, okay, you might be right there, 'hot' isn't essentially the right term for it right now. And to be perfectly honest, I haven't fallen for Legolas, neither in the books nor in the movies. I read the books before the movies came out, and from Day One I loved Aragorn, although I would hardly say that I have fallen for him. *shrugs* I never liked blondes, anyway... *g*
Coreinha - *smugly* That is your problem, my friend! I know perfectly well that I am addicted to reviews and therefore DO beg for reviews at any given opportunity! At least I _face_ my weaknesses... *g* *huggles her* Thanks! And I am sure that you know _many_ ways of helping a half-frozen elf, no doubt about that! *eyes grow wide* You would do THAT to me if I killed Celylith? Okay, maybe I will reconsider ... I will definitely reconsider... *g*
XsilicaX - Ah well, you _could_ say that he is brave - I for my part say that he's stupid though. VERY stupid, but hey, he got lucky! He's still alive, that's something! *evil grin* Oh, I am quite sure you know how to warm him up, but I think it's best if you stayed right where you are. Exactly there, that's it, good girl, we don't watn to scare the poor ranger, now do we? *g* Exactly! Without us women men would be totally lost! I try to tell them all the time, but they rather listen, do they? *sighs* Men.
Firniswin - *g* So you love Legolas _and_ Aragorn! Very good, it's only fair this way... *blushes* Thanks so much for all your - very nice, btw - compliments, I'm glad you like it so much! Thanks for the review!
Imbefaniel - *shrugs* We're all obsessed with one character or another, aren't we? But if you really _believe_ you're an elf, I think it is time to seek professional help. Very, very fast! *g* I gave Legolas your flowers and the cards, I'm sure he'll really appreciate them once he's awake properly...
Mouse - *g* 'Not enough left of them to fill a thimble'. I like that! And you're right, of course... Thanks a lot, and as I said, we're allowed to drink here as well - fortunately! Otherwise I'd spent most of the last three years in jail for underage drinking or whatever it's called. *g*
Halo - *ducks* Hey! You can't hit me on my birthday! There's a law against that! And if there isn't, there should be! And I didn't kill him, that's something, right? Right? Jeez, just you wait, it can get MUCH worse, believe me...
Alilacia - *pats her back* Calm down, everything's alright, Legolas will be just fine. Okay? Well, about the cliffy thing: I couldn't resist this one? I just love them, there's nothing I can do! *chuckles* Oh yes, Aragorn will _definitely_ need Legolas' help soon. Definitely! I haven't read HP 4 yet, but I know what happens and cuse JKR every minute of every day. Argh, how could she? She's plain evil, that's what she is...
LOTRStarwarsMatrixFan - Yeah, somehow it always happens this way. One or two chapters with action and then one where they take a little break. They deserve one from time to time, mind you... And you're right, King Thranduil would most definitely not been happy to see his son's bones decorate the bottom of the Long Lake... *g* I have NO idea why you think I have more in store for them, really, I have not. *shrugs innocently* I would never harm them - permanently.
Miss Understood - Uhm, okay, I see what you mean. If you're so obsessed with Seobryn, then just ignore the conversation Aragorn and he will be having, okay? Well, Aragorn's birthday is on the 1st of March, 2931 (TA), but Legolas' sin't known, I'm afraid. You really got up early for this story? That's sweet!
LOTRFaith - Of yourse Legolas is alive, as I said, I am not suicidal. Oh, and I wouldn't say they don't get into trouble for a while. Hm, that dpends on how you define 'a while', I guess... *evil grin* Thanks a lot for reviewing!
Zam - *backs off* Okay, Zam, sure, Celylith is yours. Nobody wants him, really, they're just ...joking, they're joking, that's it... *nervous smile* So it was your voice? I should have known, though, it was _really_ weird. I just KNEW that someone was going to complain about the hair! Really, you need to get your priorities in order, people... A Tellyn Fangirl Group? Oh, yes, why not, go ahead, have fun... You are bit obsessed with Celylith, did you know that? Just a thought...
Lina - *watches Éomer blow harmonica etc* Hey, I was wrojng about him! He isn't stupid after all! He's just a musician, that's all! *g* LOL, 'Skiddaddle'? Don't tell me that's actually a word! LOL, you're going after him with scuba gear, huh? Well, would have been nice, but you kinda forgot the ... waterfall... *watches Lina fall over waterfall* There she goes. Ah well, at least now Éomer and his Rohirrim have something to do, for a change... *g*
Critternut - Glad you like the plushy! You can never have enough of them, that's what I always say... And don't worry, I didn't get drunk - much. I still knew my first name. That's somthing, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing!
NaughtyNat - Yup, Aragorn owies coming up next chapter, don't worry! Well, I still can't believe I actually inspired anyone to write anything - but apparently I have! Thanks! *huggles her*
Elladan - Great you liked it! And you're not the only one that is beginning to like Celylith, I think there will be a fan club soon... *g* Thanks a lot for the review!
TrinityTheSheDevil - *defensively* Well, that _was_ the title. I have thought of a better one by now, really! Oh no, you don't! *grabs Trin* No sharing body heat, understood? Really, you people... *glares at Trin* No, it is NOT a grey hair, you hear men? It's not! *gived her the look* You're evil... *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - No, indeed I did NOT kill Legolas, although I have to admit that I was tempted to for a moment or two. Self-preservation stopped me in the end... *g* See? Here's the next cliffy, and chapter 11 has one as well! Yay!
Alisha - *mouth hangs open* Well, I guess you're the only person here who actually _wants_ me to kill Celylith! And what about a dog? You could simply get aour Nólad-clone a dog to keep him company! And you still have your guinea pig, haven't you? You're right, it was very lucky that Legolas is an elf, or otherwise he really might have suffered a little brain damage. Or perhaps he has? *shrugs* With him you never know... You're right again! Scroll-wheel-less mice are a horror! *g*
Alexa - I am not mad! I am merely evil, that's a difference! Great you still like it though, even though the story's a bit weird ... or mad ... or insane. Whichever suits you best. *g*
Stacee Phelps - Well, I really hope I won't do anything that will get me to face a friendly judge - althought I wouldn't count on it. They might have passed a law against cliffies or something! *g* Thanks a lot for the review!
Fliewatuet - Well, and he got rescued! That is another good thing that happened to him, isn't it? Thanks for the birthday wishes and: Don't you like cliffies? I really have no idea why - they are soooo much fun! Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly*
Jenny - *nods* There you're right - cold water can hurt an awful lot! But you know I would never harm him - permanetly, don't you? I may be evil, but I'm not insane! *g* Thanks for reviewing!
Arwen-Evenstar - Well, yes, Aragorn is going to get into a whole lot of trouble - he is very good at that, isn't he? *shakes head* Reckless human, that one... *huggles her* Thanks for all the great reviews! They really help me - a lot!
Nilbrethiliel - Bei uns ist es gar nicht so heiss, die letzten paar Tage warne eigentlich mit ca. 20 °C ziemlich kuehl! Schroedingergleichung? Hoert sich ja gefaehrlich an... *g* *starrt mit grossen Augen* Nun, wenn du meinst ... freut mich doch, dass du die Fruendschafts-Szenen so magst! Oh, und so was hat mit Einzelkind oder nicht nichts zu tun! Meine Geschwister sind ganz sicher nicht so, glaub mir! LOL, also ist Celylith IN deinem Bett? Dann lass das mal lieber nicht Zam hoeren... Den Spruch kenne und liebe ich natuerlich auch! 'Und aus dem Chaoes sprach eine Stimme zu mir...' *g*
Amelie - *bliushes* Great you like it so much! I really hope this was fast enough! Thanks a lot for the review!
Ciria - WOW! Such a long review! Thanks! *huggles her* Glad you're back - although I understand your reasons for not reviewing, of course. Yup, LOTR is dubbed here as well, if you watch it in a normal cinema. I always go to watch it in the original version in English because I really can't stand the German version - it's so silly! LOL, I can certainly imagine Celylith caring for a baby orc! Hey, nice idea, I might use that somewhere... About the language thing: I'm not really certain. I would imagine that he learnt Westron from his parents and then Elvish when he was brought to Rivendell. But I imagine he would have forgotten much of the Common Tongue after a while (besides, how well can you speak with 2 years?). Well, I hope you have lots of fun wherever you're going! Thanks!
LeggyLover03 - Well, we will have Aragorn pain in chapter 11, I think. So only one more chapter! Thanks for the review!
Marbienl - *hangs head* I know, I know! I will send you a review for that last chapter, never fear, it just might take me some time... Well, school isn't out here, we still have three more weeks to go! *sighs* Great. And no, Aragorn will not catch a cold or anything - once again, too easy. Believe me, it can get much, much worse than that... *g* Sure I have read TMAATB! It's so funny and I really hope TiO updates soon! *glares darkly at Miki* You listening? Thanks a lot for this looooong review! *huggles Marbienl*
One15 - One! Toll, dich mal wieder zu sehen! Ich dachte schon fast, ich haette irgendetwas geschrieben, dass dir uebelst missfallen hat! *g* Genau, ich haette Legolas NIE so sterben lassen! Ich meine, ich will ja auch noch ein bisschen leben, und das waere ja reiner Selbstmord, nech? Es gibt so viele Legolas Fans, da waere das ja einfach nur daemlich! Vielen Dank fuer die review, und die Geburtstagswuensche natuerlich!
Anya - *not very impressed* I have a pet balrog myself, so you'll forgive me if I'm not properly intimidated, okay? His name's Stan, and he protects me from plot bunnies and overzealous readers... *g* I still hope this is soon enough for you? Don't worry, Aragorn torture is coming up soon, and thanks a lot for reviewing!
*grins insanely at reviewers* Thankssss, reviewerssss, thank yousss verysss much! We lovesss reviewsss, we doesss, precious... *hits herself again* Just ignore that, will you? Thanks a lot for the lovely reviews!
A/N:
*huggles readers* Thank you all SO MUCH for your Birthday wishes! I had in fact quite a lot of fun on my birthday, even the weather was really nice! And for all those people who congratulated me on being able to drink alcohol now: Here you are allowed to drink alcohol when you turn 18. You are an adult with 18, but in court you are still treated like a child in some cases. Until you're 21, so that's over now! *sighs* All the great things I still wanted to do... *g*
Oh, a little warning beforehand: The next weeks will get even more chaotic than the previous month, so once again I cannot guarantee that I will be able to update as frequently as now. Don't panic though, because I promise to try my best, okay? *g*
Well, so... *grabs Celylith from where Zam Kenobi has him stuffed in her closet* Yes, that was what I wanted to say: Could you please just nod when Zam tells you that Celylith is her husband? She is getting a little bit scary here, so just be nice and nod, okay?
Fine! Now that's resolved, on to the next chapter (it's already chapter 10, can you believe that? *shakes head*)! And since I know how much you like cliffies, here's another one! Don't even think about blaming me, it's all my alter ego's fault. Yes, it is. *g*
Have fun and review, please!
Chapter 10
Owaeran slowly stepped out into the corridor outside the bedroom he shared with his wife, closing the dark wooden door as soundlessly as possible.
It was almost ridiculous, he thought to himself as he tiptoed to reach the staircase that led downstairs. He was the master of this house, he had helped build it himself, and he was sneaking through the corridors like some sort of common thief?
But the trader knew perfectly well that he had to be very quiet, or Misien would be after him quicker than he could say "Good morning, my dear." His wife had adamantly insisted that he didn't disturb those "poor young lads" and especially the "boy" who had fallen into the lake. He had tried to convince her that at least two of the three "boys" were each older than all the humans under this roof combined, but his wife would hear nothing of it. If someone looked younger than her, her protective instincts flared to life, and nothing would change that.
He smiled softly. He dearly loved his wife, even after all these years, and he really did not want to anger her by going against her wishes, but he had to ask the ranger what had happened. The sight of King Thranduil's only son and heir, lying pale, bloodied and motionless in the other elf's arms was enough to give him nightmares for years to come.
He knew the woodland king quite well, as well as a Lake-man would ever be able to know the golden haired elf, and therefore could imagine what the elven king would say if the crown prince died in his, Owaeran's house.
"Bad for business" didn't even begin to describe it, he thought, avoiding the steps he knew to creak noisily and slowly making his way to the first floor. Besides, he really liked the fair haired elf, and owed him and the others a great deal. To have any of them die because of what Gwemyr had got himself into was an idea too frightening and horrifying to consider.
A floorboard creaked softly under his feet and he froze, listening for any indication that someone had heard the noise. Even though he was already too far away for his wife to hear him, he was close enough to a few of the servants' chambers, and, he thought wryly, beginning to move once again, there was only one thing more embarrassing than to be caught by his wife, and that was to be caught by his servants.
Owaeran quickly shot a look out of the window; dawn was already beginning to show in the East. The servants would get up soon. He quickly took the last steps into the directions of the guest quarters and, knocking slightly, he stepped into Prince Legolas' room.
He found himself face to face with an alert wood-elf who had one of his hands on his daggers that hung in leather sheaths on his belt and mustered him with an intensity that he couldn't bear for long, even after all the years of trading with the fair folk.
Averting his eyes, he nodded his head and said,
"Lord Celylith."
The elf stepped back and soundlessly pulled up another chair, placing it next to the bedside.
"Master Owaeran. Please, sit."
The elderly man sat down, wondering for a moment how it was that all elves seemed to command such … respect, so to say. If the silver haired elf had told him to leave the room, he would have done so, without even thinking about protesting that this was his house.
He turned his eyes on the bed and the sleeping figure that almost disappeared under a mount of thick woollen blankets. All that could be seen of the elf that occupied it was the bandaged head … oh, and a hand that was being held by the sleeping ranger that sat next to the bed in an armchair. The younger man looked almost as pale and exhausted as the elven prince and, again just like the elf, incredibly young.
Owaeran turned back to the elf next to him and whispered,
"Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere else. I believe they need their sleep."
Celylith laughed softly and leaned back against the carved back of his chair, shaking his head.
"Don't worry, Master Human. My prince isn't due to wake up for some hours yet, and the only think that could rouse Strider now would be if Legolas moved. He wouldn't wake up even if you paraded a horde of oliphaunts across the room."
The man smiled slightly at the thought.
"How is the prince, then?"
Celylith turned serious again.
"Not so good, but Strider says he will be fine."
"Are you sure that we shouldn't send for a healer?" the man questioned. "I mean no disrespect of course, but are you sure that the ranger…"
"Yes, I am, Master Owaeran," Celylith said firmly. "Your concern is appreciated of course, but believe me when I say that Strider is one of the best healers on this side of the Misty Mountains. Perhaps even the best, if one disregards the Lady of the Golden Wood."
Owaeran closed his mouth again and shrugged lightly. If this elf was so sure about this and was willing to trust the younger man with his prince's life, then he would do the same.
"Very well then," he nodded. "But please, Lord Celylith, tell me: What happened? Have you found out something?"
The elf sighed, pushing a strand of gleaming hair behind a pointed ear.
"Yes, we have indeed. More than we had thought, and yet apparently not enough."
The man blinked slowly, forcing himself to silently count to ten. If there was something he hated about elves, it was their habit to answer questions in riddles or not at all.
"Please, Master Elf," he said, slight exasperation creeping into his voice, "I know how much your kind loves to confuse others, but please, do not torment me so. Have you learned something about my brother or not?"
Celylith smiled slightly.
"You are right, Master Human, forgive me. Let me put another log in the fire and then I will tell you all you want to know."
After stoking the fire, Celylith told the man all that had happened, all about what the barmaids had said and the memorable encounter with the unknown men. He closed with a recount of how they had fished Legolas out of the channel and how Aragorn had revived him.
When the elf leaned back in his chair after finishing the tale, Owaeran ran both his hands through his hair, with one ear noting that the servants were beginning to start their daily duties.
"Eru, 'tis a dark tale you tell, Master Elf."
"But it's the truth," a voice still rough from sleep said. Both he and the elf turned to look at the sleepy ranger that had apparently woken up some time ago. "And if anything, it is even more confusing now than before."
Aragorn saw the slightly worried look in the other man's eyes and added quickly,
"You did not wake me, do not worry. It is well that you are here, for I wished to speak with you as well."
Owaeran nodded.
"The men you met, they are serving my competitor, I think. The leader, was he a tall man with dark hair and a tattoo on his right wrist?"
Aragorn sat up a little bit straighter and carefully placed his elven friend's hand next to his still body.
"Yes. I have not seen his wrist since he wore a cloak, but the rest sounds right."
"I have seen it," Celylith confirmed. "During the fight the cloak shifted, and while I was blocking a blow from that wooden club, I could see the tattoo. A fox's head with bared teeth, I think."
"That is him," the older man nodded, "Even though a skunk would have been more appropriate if you ask me. He's called 'the Fox' because of his cunning and sly nature they say, hence the tattoo, and he's been working for my competitor for several years now."
"Then we do have the proof that that gentleman is not the one behind your brother's disappearance," Aragorn concluded. "But they have something to do with all this, I know it. They were very interested in what we know and why we were asking questions about your brother. I think they are trying to protect something, so to speak."
"And what would that be?" Celylith asked, arching a dark silver eyebrow.
The dark haired man shrugged.
"If I did know that, my friend, I would already be on my way asking this 'Fox' a few questions of my own."
"An investment," Owaeran said quietly, understanding dawning on his face. He raised his eyes to look in the curious faces of his guests.
"An investment," he repeated. "You must understand, my 'friend' is a trader to the core of his very heart. He would never do anything if it wasn't profitable for him, and the only thing he is interested in is his money, and how to get even more than he already has. There is one thing I can tell you: If he has sent these people to protect something, then it can only be money. And, if I know him at all, a lot of money."
"But what exactly would that have to do with your brother?" Celylith asked, looking even more confused than he had been before. To him the thought of going through all this trouble because of money seemed rather ridiculous. But then again, these were men, and men were known to desire what was worst for them.
"I haven't got the slightest idea," the trader admitted.
"Neither have I," Aragorn nodded grimly. "But I know a few people who do have the answers to these questions. I think it is time that we go and ask them."
Owaeran looked from Strider's face to that of the silver haired elven warrior, and came quickly to the conclusion that those men might have made a bigger mistake in attacking the prince than they could even imagine.
The first thing Legolas became aware of was a softly chanting voice in his head. He strained to understand what it was it said, but he just didn't have the energy to do anything, be it mentally or physically. With surprise he noted that he could hardly remember a time in his life when he had felt more exhausted, but then again, he didn't have the strength to think about that for long either.
While he was floating between waking and unconsciousness, the voice slowly became louder and clearer, and he could hear what it was that it was saying.
'Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold, cold…'
With a mental headshake of disgust, Legolas tried to block it out. In his opinion it was a rather stupid thing to chant, especially because elves didn't get cold. The firstborn were more resilient than the younger races, and to feel cold was something unknown to most of them.
The voice chuckled at that, and images and memories flashed through his head with lightening speed, images of water, ice and a blinding pain situated directly behind his brow, and memories of deadly cold, a cold that seeped into his very bones and left him unable to move, unable to feel, unable to think…
'Curious,' he thought with an inward shudder. 'So that is what cold feels like?'
Slowly his hearing decided to work again, and after what seemed to be a year or two, he was able to make out some sounds around him. He could hear the soft breathing of a person to his right, and on his left the occasional ruffling of clothes when another person moved.
But the things that were really confusing him were the facts that first, he couldn't open his eyes, and that second, he didn't feel cold like his brain told him he rightly should. The last thing he could remember was feeling cold, so cold that he had felt as if he would never be able to move a muscle again.
While he was still contemplating how it was possible that he wasn't still feeling like that (he had already ruled out the possibility that the seasons had changed places and summer had made a sudden and unexpected appearance), a cool hand touched his forehead, lingering there for a moment.
"I think he is waking up," a voice he knew he should know said, and the hand travelled down to rest against his cheek. "Legolas? Can you hear me? You have slept long enough, my friend, it is time to wake now. And here I thought that elves needed little rest."
'Aragorn,' a voice in his head helpfully provided. 'That must be Aragorn, only he can be this annoying in so few sentences.'
Doggedly the elven prince worked his way all the way back to consciousness, refusing to let the tempting darkness pull him under again. Finally he managed to pry his eyelids open and, so happy with this achievement, did nothing but stare at the ceiling for a while, enjoying the warmth that seemed to envelop his whole body.
He knew this room, he decided, it was a guest room … somewhere.
Suddenly, a face appeared in his line of vision, so suddenly that he really couldn't tell where it had come from.
"Welcome back, Legolas," the face said, smiling down at him. A second hand appeared and pressed against the other side of his face to keep his head still while the person above him peered intensively into his still slightly glazed eyes. "Do you see double? Or blurry?"
Legolas frowned slightly, wondering for a moment how very odd these questions were. Why should he see double? The face was apparently not thinking clearly. Just then his mind shook off the last remnants of sleep, and the memories connected with his present condition and Aragorn's voice with the face looking down at him.
"Aragorn?" he asked, blinking slowly in confusion. He had almost not recognised his own voice that sounded rather un-elvish, hoarse and quite weak.
"That is one of his names," another voice to his left chimed in, amusement and relief clearly audible. "But don't try to enumerate the rest of them or we will still be here coming spring."
The hands holding his face were withdrawn, and Aragorn shot the person to Legolas' left a dark look. "Very funny indeed, Celylith."
Slowly Legolas turned his head to the left, already feeling much better now that he remembered what had happened.
"Celylith?" he asked. "You are alright?"
"Yes, my friend," the other elf assured him, briefly reaching out and pushing a strand of his friend's hair behind his ear, "I am just fine. You are the one who fell into the lake, not me."
"I didn't fall," Legolas protested, smiling slightly, trying to move under the mount of blankets that had been piled up over him and wincing in pain when the throbbing in his head redoubled at that. "I broke in. That's a difference."
"How do you feel?" Aragorn asked, redirecting Legolas' attention. "Do you have a headache? I don't think you have a concussion, but I want to be sure."
"I feel … fine," Legolas said slowly, trying to sit up and taking a deep breath when his side protested. What had he done to his side? He honestly couldn't remember. "Just a little confused, that's all. What happened?"
That was not the entire truth, of course. He did have a headache, a rather bad one, but there was no sense in giving Aragorn yet another reason to mother him.
Aragorn looked at his friend suspiciously. If he knew Legolas at all, then he was not 'fine'.
"Celylith can explain," he said, busying himself with the healing utensils that covered every square inch of the small table next to Legolas' bed.
While the other elf recounted everything that had happened since Legolas had broken through the ice yesterday night, Aragorn quickly mixed a few powders and crushed herbs in a goblet and added a mouthful or two of water.
Just when Celylith finished his tale, he reached out and placed the cup in his elven friend's hand.
"Here," he told Legolas. "Drink this."
The elven prince merely looked from the cup to the dark haired human as if he had spoken that last sentence in the Black Speech.
"Drink this? And why should I do that?"
Aragorn knitted his brows and glared at his friend, noting with satisfaction how Legolas averted his eyes under the look.
"It will help you with that non-existent headache of yours. And I promise it will not put you to sleep."
Legolas raised his eyes again, flinching inwardly when Aragorn's look became even more threatening. He would have to have a talk with Lord Elrond about this, he decided. There should be a law against teaching humans such things.
"I don't have a headache," he protested, doing his best to sound convincing.
Aragorn merely raised an eyebrow, and Legolas blanched. Dear Elbereth, now he looked even more like the Lord of Imladris, this was simply not fair…
"Then it won't hurt you to drink it, will it?" he asked, sounding as if he was reasoning with a stubborn, mentally retarded child. "Drink it."
Legolas found himself obeying, for the umpteenth time cursing Lord Elrond and his look. If he had never invented it, then he never could have taught it to his sons. So it was all his fault, and no-one but the Master of Rivendell could be blamed when his wayward children terrorised innocent elves and men with that accursed look of his.
Aragorn grinned smugly when his friend had emptied the cup, taking it back from him before Legolas had the chance to fling it into his direction which was obviously the only thought on the prince's mind right now, judging by his expression.
"See," the ranger told the fair haired elf, placing the goblet safely out of his friend's reach, "It wasn't that bad. If you're good I will even allow you out of bed today."
At this Legolas' mouth fell open with indignation and surprise. That … presumptuous, annoying, mothering human, who did he think he was? He was the Prince of Mirkwood and thousands of years older than this child that was thinking he could order him around!
"If you 'allow' me out of bed, human?" the prince asked, sitting up in his bed and ignoring the fact that his stomach felt rather queasy at that action. "We have a few questions to ask if it is true what you tell me, and I will not stay here like a child while you wander around this city getting yourself in trouble!"
Aragorn's eyes flashed at that.
"Yes, you will, elf," he said, trying to push the elf back onto his back. "You almost died yesterday! You will not leave this bed until I allow you to!"
"Oh, really?" Legolas countered, about to climb out of the bed. "Then I would advise you to watch closely, my friend, for that is exactly what I am doing!"
"You are not! You are not strong enough!"
"I am an elf, human! I am strong enough!"
"You are not! You are an idiot, nothing more."
Celylith leaned back into his chair, hiding a smile and at the same time deciding that he probably didn't even have to do that. It was obvious that those two had already forgotten that he was here.
Listening to the argument, he thought with a pang of regret that it was a real shame that he wasn't in Mirkwood. A few of his warrior had a bet going, a bet about who was more stubborn, Legolas or Aragorn. Secretly, the silver haired elf was convinced that they were both more stubborn than any other being he had ever had the misfortune to meet, but in this particuolar situation he believed he had placed a bet on Legolas winning after an argument of at least thirty minutes.
In his opinion it all depended on the circumstances, and right now he thought that Legolas would emerge victorious from this trial.
'But,' he thought, wincing when Legolas called Aragorn a "bossy, arrogant mother hen", 'it is a truly unique chance to witness this.'
Entertainment such as this one was extremely hard to come by.
Exactly forty-two minutes later, Aragorn stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a manner that would make his elven instructors cringe in embarassment. He didn't even see the servants that stared at him with wide eyes, for he was far too busy cursing Legolas in every language he had ever encountered.
'That idiotic, stubborn, reckless, thick-headed, haughty, arrogant, blind…'
When he was finished with insulting his friend in Westron, he moved on to Sindarin, then to Quenya, to the insults in Khuzdul he knew, and then to the dialects of the Rohirrim and the little that he knew of the tongues of the Southrons. Elrond had been adamant that he learned as many languages as he could, insisting that they would serve him well in later life, even though he probably would have been somewhat shocked to find that his young foster son had been concentrating on a rather disputable part of the vocabulary.
The young ranger stopped at the end of the hallway, seriously considering giving the carved balustrade a vicious kick. He abandoned that idea though, for it would probably not only serve to frighten the servants even more that were already looking at him as if he were a madman, but he would probably break a toe as well. That'd be just his kind of luck.
But really, he thought, calming down slightly, that … that … elf was just too irritating! Aragorn grasped the railing tightly and looked darkly down the stairs. He was only trying to help his friend, nothing more, and he was certainly not trying to 'mother' him. Ha, he and mothering Legolas! He was just acting like a responsible healer should, that was all.
But that stubborn, irritating wood-elf was not even listening to what he was saying! He had just stood there – swaying slightly, one might add by the way – and insisted that he was fine, thank you very much.
'Fine!' he fumed inwardly, 'Fine indeed! He is not fine! Eru, one of these days I will kill him! I really will.'
Despite his anger he heard the soft footfall of an elf that was drawing closer, and, knowing that Legolas was too intelligent to show his face just yet, he turned and looked at Celylith, who wore a wide, annoying grin and looked as if he had just won a lot of money – which he had, actually, since he had predicted an argument of at least thirty-eight minutes, but there was no way for the young human to know that.
"What?" he growled threateningly. "Don't say it. Whatever it is you want to say, if you are fond of the place your head is occupying right now and would like it to remain there, then don't say it."
"I wasn't about to say anything, ranger," Celylith assured him and carefully took a step backwards, away from the seething form of the young human. Aragorn hadn't really believed that Legolas would heed his commands and stay in bed, had he?
"I was just about to go down to the kitchens to see if they have anything left for us. We should get some food into him before we leave," the silver haired elf added, wincing inwardly when he saw Strider's darkening face. He probably shouldn't have mentioned the words "Legolas" and "leave" in one sentence, he decided.
"He's an elf, Estel," he said soothingly. "We know our limits. He is strong, and if he says he is fine, then he is."
The man merely looked at him with disbelief and something like pity in his eyes.
"How long do you know him now, Celylith?" he sighed.
The elf looked at him, a slightly confused expression on his fair face.
"Practically all my life, so that's more than 2500 years now. You know that."
Aragorn just smiled friendly at him.
"So you've known him for two and a half millennia and you truly believe what you have just said? I have known him for barely two years now, and even I know that Legolas isn't 'fine' when he says he is. There is 'fine'-fine and there is fine. Right now he is 'fine'-fine, believe me."
Celylith's mind still tried to come up with an answer to that as he attempted to come to terms with Aragorn's distinction of 'fine'-fine and just fine, wondering not for the first time if being this strange was still normal, when a timid voice on the stairs caught their attention.
"Strider? Could I have a word with you, please?"
Aragorn looked down the softly winding staircase to see Seobryn stand on the bottom step, looking up at them anxiously. He wondered for a moment why the boy was here because he was supposed to be with his Master visiting the storerooms and shops when he remembered that it was already nearing afternoon. He had been so fixed on Legolas that he hadn't noticed the passage of time.
Legolas … that annoying little…
Forcefully calming himself and silently vowing to do something horrible to his friend in the near future, he smiled at the younger man.
"Of course. Would you like to come up?"
Celylith traded one look with the ranger and quickly began to descend the staircase.
"I need to inform the kitchens."
Seobryn almost dragged Aragorn to the very end of the deserted corridor, looking anxiously around him. Inwardly the ranger wondered what the boy could have possibly done wrong in such short a time.
"What is it?" he finally asked when he could bear the other's squirming no longer. "Are you in trouble? Certainly not yet!"
"No!" Seobryn exclaimed, red as a radish now. "No, nothing is wrong, and what I have seen of the business is very interesting indeed."
"But?" the ranger asked confused. What could possibly have upset the other like this?
"Well," the boy began, beginning to fiddle with a strand of light brown hair. "Well … have you … have you ever … liked someone? A lot?"
Aragorn stared at him perplexedly. What in Ilúvatar's name was Seobryn talking about?
"Yes, of course. I mean, I like my family a lot, and…"
"No," Seobryn interrupted, turning even redder if such a thing was even possible. "I mean … a girl?"
The young man stared at the boy, feeling as if someone had just emptied a bucket of cold water over his head. That was it what all this was about? Elbereth, why him?
"So it is the fair Seveawen we speak of, yes?" he asked with a small smile.
Seobryn lowered his head.
"She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"Very," Aragorn agreed somewhat dryly. "And she also seems to have her own opinions."
"Yes!" Seobryn beamed. "She is wonderful! But … but…"
"But what? Just talk to her, get to know her a bit better…"
"Talk!? I cannot talk to her!" Seobryn exclaimed mortified, his face now the colour of dark bricks. "I cannot even look at her without blushing! How could I talk to her? What should I say? What if I embarrass myself and she laughs? Or thinks I'm an idiot? What then?"
Aragorn resisted the very tempting urge to simply run away. He hadn't much experience in these matters and was certainly not the best person to ask. If Legolas ever heard about this…
Suddenly, a wicked grin began to spread over his face.
"Listen to me, Seobryn," he said solemnly, "I am not the best to give counsel in such matters, for I am hardly older than you. But do you know what? The prince is more than 2500 years old, and he has been in such situations many, many times." To be honest, Aragorn had no idea whether this was the truth or not, but it sounded rather good. "Legolas has a lot of experience in the matters of the heart. I am sure he could help you … you two could compose a poem or something like that."
He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing. Seobryn however looked rather convinced, even though a bit frightened at the prospect of having to talk to an elf about this.
"Do you think he would help me?" he asked timidly, the urge to finally speak to his love apparently outweighing the resident fear that he still had of the elves.
"Oh, I am sure," Aragorn nodded. "He is very good at composing. Just go to him now. He will have time for you now."
Seobryn smiled at him.
"Thank you very much, Estel. Thank you."
He turned and quickly walked away into the direction of Legolas' room, leaving a broadly grinning Aragorn behind. Oh, the ranger thought, this was priceless. The thought of Legolas being stuck in a room with a love-struck human boy, composing poems to the boy's love was almost too much to bear.
'Yes,' he thought as he was quietly walking down the stairs, still grinning from ear to ear, 'Revenge is sweet indeed.'
"You will die for this, dúnadan. Mark my words."
Celylith raised his eyes to the heavens and watched the sun slowly go down behind the towering houses. In the beginning this had been rather amusing, he thought, but now the constant threats that Legolas was uttering quietly were beginning to get on his nerves.
Very well, he amended, in the beginning it had been very amusing. It would be quite a long time indeed until he forgot the look of embarrassment and anger Legolas had worn when he had joined them in the kitchens, glaring daggers at the young ranger.
He stopped himself from chuckling loudly. He had to remember never to get Aragorn angry at him, the silver haired elf decided thoughtfully. The thought of Legolas writing love poetry was just…
In front of him, Legolas' mumbling once again became audible.
"You will pay for this, human. I will think of something, and then may the Valar protect you…"
On hearing his friend's incensed voice Aragorn couldn't stay silent any longer.
"Why so angry, my friend? I am sure you two came up with an adorable verse."
Celylith winced. He wasn't sure if this had been the right thing to say. Ever since they had left Owaeran's house two hours ago Legolas had been like this, mumbling threats under his breath. Aragorn's mood wasn't much better, since Legolas had removed the bandage around his head, claiming that he was perfectly alright. Aragorn had got rather … upset by his friend's "reckless, irresponsible" behaviour, and so the two had done little more than glare at each other most of the time.
Legolas shot the dark haired human a scathing glare.
"That was one of the most evil things you have ever done, Strider."
"You deserved it," Aragorn replied, returning the look in kind. "Besides, Seobryn needed some help."
"So you sent him to me?" Legolas exclaimed. "Why didn't you help him?"
"Because, as you are so fond of remembering me all the time, you are thousands of years older than me. I am sure you have a lot more experience than I do in these matters."
"I?" the elven prince whirled around to face the young ranger. "I? Do I look like someone who spends his time composing bad love poetry?"
Celylith stopped as well, an evil twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Well, I do remember a time when we were both about three hundred years old and the Lady Galadriel came to visit. One of her handmaidens was quite beautiful, and I distinctly remember a certain young elf who did nothing but…"
He would have said more, but at this point Legolas hurriedly clamped his hand over the other elf's mouth.
"A certain young elf who did what?" Aragorn asked, beginning to grin as well.
"Nothing," Legolas replied quickly, closing his other hand in a vice-like manner around Celylith's arm. "Right, mellonamin?" He let go of the other and glared at him.
"Right, my lord," Celylith replied, winking at the young ranger. "The certain young elf didn't spend his time under her window singing one love song after the other. He did nothing."
Aragorn almost collapsed onto the ground with laughter, and Legolas gave his friend a look so hot that it would have put even Gandalf to shame.
"A very unwise decision, Celylith. I know a lot of embarrassing stories about you as well."
"But, as you constantly remind me, you best me in everything. Your stories are much more embarrassing than mine, my prince."
Aragorn shortly stopped howling like a wounded hyena and looked at the silver haired elf with expectant eyes.
"Really?"
"No," Legolas replied curtly, annoyance creeping into his voice. His head was starting to hurt again, and together with his aching ribs did little to improve his temper. "Come now, we still haven't found out anything about this 'Fox'. If we want to reach the piers before nightfall we have to hurry."
He stepped closer to his human friend and grasped his arm to pull him upright, only to draw back in shock when Aragorn hissed in pain and withdrew, holding his right upper arm.
"Aragorn? What is it? Are you hurt?" Legolas asked, looking at the man in concern.
The young ranger straightened himself and grimaced. Wonderful, now he had done it…
"No. It's just a scratch. A bolt nicked me on that pier."
Both of Legolas' eyebrows climbed up his forehead until they threatened to disappear into his hairline.
"A scratch? Strider, the last time you had a 'scratch' we almost had to amputate your arm!"
"Uhm, there I was younger and more reckless?" Aragorn asked, looking innocent.
"Younger? It was last spring!"
Aragorn shrugged nonchalantly and quickly began to walk down the bridge to prevent his friend from expecting his wound. Legolas just stared after his human friend, anger and worry boiling in his chest. Why hadn't that reckless human told him?
"'Tis truly just a scratch, Legolas," Celylith said quietly as they followed Aragorn down the pier, walking back to the spot where they had fished the elven prince out of the water only a few hours earlier. "I bound it myself. It will be gone in a week."
"That's not the point," the other elf retorted as they rounded a corner and neared the pier, "He should have told me."
"So you can mother him?" Celylith asked, eyes twinkling.
"I do not mother him! Or anyone!" Legolas protested, staring at his friend in indignation.
Right then they reached the pier and Celylith was spared an answer. Various people in various inns had pointed them here, claiming that the 'Fox' spent a lot of time here. If they would find anyone that could tell them where he was, it would be here.
The three of them looked around, trying to decide what to do, when a surprised voice behind them called out,
"Well, if that aren't the people who are so fond of midnight swims!"
The two elves and the human turned, and were surprised to see Tellyn stand in front of them, grinning cheekily.
"Tellyn!" Aragorn exclaimed. "Yes, we decided to honour your invitation. I think that we forgot to introduce ourselves yesterday. These are Legolas and Celylith from Mirkwood, and my name is Strider."
The older man nodded his head at the elves.
"A pleasure to see you well again. It is a miracle you survived at all, let are alone on your feet."
Legolas bowed his head.
"Strider has told me what has happened. I am in your debt, Mater Human. If there is any way I can repay you for your kindness…"
Tellyn waved his hand dismissively.
"'Twas nothing, Master Elf. I have had enough of fishing corpses out of the lake."
The three looked at each other.
"It was you who found that man a few days ago?" Aragorn asked.
"Aye," the older man nodded. "And a damn ugly business it was too. Someone bludgeoned him quite a bit." He grimaced in thought. "Then there was the slit throat, of course… Poor fellow. He didn't deserve such an end. He might have been a hothead, yes, but not a bad man…"
"You know who he was?" Celylith asked the man unbelievingly.
"Why, yes," Tellyn shrugged, carefully sitting down on a crate near the water's edge. "Of course. Young Drabo came here quite often, and he was always pleasant company. Even though I didn't agree with the choices he made, especially the ones concerning his friends. Some of them were bad company, they were."
The three looked at each other, the same understanding etched into each face: Drabo had to be Gwemyr's friend whose name began with 'D'.
"What kind of friends?" Legolas asked carefully, studying the elderly human's face.
"Oh, some of them were nice enough fellows, but there were some that were … not," Tellyn explained shortly. "Most were rich lads from the eastern part of the town, you know the lot. Always looking for an 'adventure', never working for their living. The others though…"
"The 'Fox'," Aragorn hazarded a guess, narrowing his eyes at him. "He was one of them?"
"How did you know?" the older man asked suspiciously.
"We are looking for him," Aragorn explained, pulling his cloak tighter around his body. The wind was picking up now that the sun was beginning to set, and large snowflakes began to fall once again.
"Stay away from him," Tellyn advised them, looking at them intently. "He's no-one you want to talk to. He's ruthless and brutal, and he's not too fond of elves, I've heard."
"So we've seen," Celylith muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.
"Do you know where we can find him?" Legolas asked Tellyn.
"If he isn't here, he will be in an inn called the "Empty Tankard" on the northern island," Tellyn shrugged. "He and his friends do nothing but drink and look for trouble, they do. I for my part like a little ale or two once in a while myself, but some things are just too much." He looked at the elves and the ranger, eyes almost pleading in the twilight. "Stay away from him. He doesn't think twice before drawing his knife, and he knows how to use it."
Legolas smiled grimly, eyes dark as coals.
"So do we. Thank you, Master Human; your help is greatly appreciated."
"If you won't listen to what I say, then at least wait until tomorrow to go to him. It's getting dark; now it would be suicide. He knows that part of the town better than anyone else." Tellyn shot them a wry look. "Surely better than you."
Legolas hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slowly.
"You are right, Tellyn. Thank you again, one day I will find a way to repay you for your help."
The two elves gave slight bows and turned back the way they had come, walking over the freshly fallen snow with ease. Aragorn gave the older human a smile and was about to follow them when a hand grabbed his elbow.
"Be careful, lad," Tellyn told him, looking at him seriously. "You three are brave, but what you do is stupid, very stupid. Take care. I do not want to fish you three out of the lake next."
"We will be," the young ranger smiled and nodded. "Thank you for your help, Tellyn."
The dark haired man turned and walked after the two elves, and Tellyn couldn't help but wonder in what condition he or his body would be in the next time he saw him.
"Well, that was interesting," Legolas said quietly as they were nearing Owaeran's house, the snow swirling around them now. "So we've found the gentleman with 'D'."
"But someone found him first," Celylith remarked dryly.
"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "But at least now we know where the connection between Gwemyr and Owaeran's competitor originated from."
"Drabo and 'the Fox'," Legolas nodded shortly, hiding a grimace when his head told him in no uncertain terms what it thought of such an action. "But why should 'the Fox' and his friends kill Drabo? It doesn't make any sense."
"I don't think it was them," Aragorn said slowly. "There must be a third group at work here."
"Elentári!" Celylith sighed dramatically. "A third one?" After a second he looked at them, eyes serious under his silver hair. "You do forget one thing: What is this all about? What is the motive? What is it they are willing to kill for?"
"Money, as Owaeran said," the young ranger said softly, disgust in his voice. "They are men, what else do you expect? With men it is always about money or power. Such are the ways of my kind."
Legolas and Celylith stopped to look at the man, the trader's house already visible a few hundred yards to their right.
"Not all men are like that, Aragorn," Legolas said seriously, looking into the grey eyes that refused to meet his gaze. "You cannot judge a whole race by the conduct of few, nor can you fault a young race for the mistakes it makes. Men are very young yet, and they might learn in the ages to come. Not all men only desire power, my friend. You have taught me that."
The dark haired human raised his head and gave both of his elven friends a grateful smile.
"Thank you."
The two only nodded their heads, and together they made their way over to Owaeran's house. Celylith's hand had hardly touched the door handle when the door flew open, the bright light that poured out of the doorway lighting the whole catwalk.
"There you are!" Seobryn exclaimed exasperatedly. He gave Legolas a conspiratorial wink which almost cost Celylith and Aragorn their composure; only the dark glare the fair haired elf gave them saved them from breaking into laughter right there and then. Seobryn didn't seem to notice, for he only pulled back the door and invited them to come in. "There is someone here that would like to speak with you."
Intrigued, the three of them stepped over the threshold, Aragorn giving the nearly empty catwalk in front of the house a cursory glance before entering the house. Something had seemed odd … there was something that triggered something in his brain…
While a servant took their cloaks, Seobryn explained,
"We don't know who she is. She wouldn't talk to the Master or the Mistress but has insisted on talking to 'the elves'. She says that it is very important."
"Slowly, Seobryn," Legolas said, shaking his head slightly. "Who are you taking about?"
"The girl," the young man explained, looking as if that was the obvious answer. "She arrived here shortly after you left. She says there is something you need to know."
Looking at his friends, the elven prince shrugged gracefully after a moment.
"Very well, then please show us to her," he said, nodding at Seobryn who gave a quick bow and began to make his way down a passage to their right.
Aragorn was about to follow them when he stopped, feet rooted to the spot. Now he knew what had seemed off on the catwalk: There had been a man, a man he was sure he had seen before. A man he had in fact seen in the last tavern they had visited yesterday, shortly after they had got the feeling that they were being observed.
This couldn't be a coincidence, he thought grimly, that man was watching them.
He quickly turned into the direction Seobryn and the others had gone, but they had already rounded a bend and had disappeared from view. The young man needed only a second to make up his mind and turned back to the door, snatching his cloak from the hands of a startled servant.
He had just opened the door when the servant came rushing after him.
"Sir! Please, where are you going!? It is getting dark outside!"
Aragorn looked at the man, not having the time to explain his actions. If he didn't act soon, the man might be gone.
"Tell Lord Legolas and the others that I have recognised someone on the catwalk outside. I will be back in a minute."
He quickly closed the door behind him, leaving the servant standing in the corridor who studied the snow that had been carried into the building and wondered what he had done to deserve this. If he knew these people at all, the elves would not be happy to hear that the ranger had gone off by himself…
Outside, Aragorn was thinking the exact same thing, but he was pushing these thoughts aside quickly when he saw the man he was looking for round a corner on the far side of the little bridge that separated the two rows of houses.
Very well, he thought as he quickly made his way over to that corner, they would see what happened if they attacked his friends!
He carefully stepped around the corner onto a small alley-like bridge, and instantly his survival instincts flared to life. He took another five or six steps, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and the warning that had been whispered in his mind was suddenly screamed by half a dozen voices. There was something wrong here, this was a…
Suddenly, a bright light lit up a few dozen steps in front of him, and he stumbled back, instinctively closing his eyes against the harsh light that assaulted them and cursing under his breath. He wrenched his sword from its sheath and turned, just in time to parry a blow that had been aimed at his head. His eyes still wouldn't fully co-operate, and so he only saw a slightly blurry shadow that held a sword and moved quickly to strike again.
Aragorn blocked the attack with ease, and just when he was about to go into the offensive as he had been taught, he heard a softly crunching noise behind him. In a split second he realised what that meant: There was another man in this alley. There were two of them!
'Of course there are,' a small voice in his head murmured, 'Who do you think lit that light?'
The young ranger was turning with lightening speed, bringing up his sword to protect himself against this new threat, but it was not fast enough. A hard blow caught his right arm at the exact same spot the crossbow had hit him, and the dark world exploded in bright pain.
He was thrown into the wall of one of the houses to his left by the force of the blow, and his right hand opened on its own account to release his blade, the muscles spasming with pain. Aragorn waited for a moment for the pain to die down, but when it didn't, he clenched his teeth and tried to reach one of his daggers with his left, but when he saw a shadow step closer, he knew that it wouldn't be fast enough.
The second blow landed squarely on his left temple, and in the split second that lay between the blinding pain and unconsciousness he decided that this would make Legolas very, very unhappy indeed.
Then the darkness washed over him and pulled him under, and that was the last thing he thought for quite a long while.
TBC...
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger
mellonamin - my friend
Mhahahaha! *evil laugh* Cliffy! *hits herself* Sorry, that was HER, my alter ego, I mean. I am truly sorry, but I seem to be unable to stop her, not that I _want_ to, anyway... *g* Okay, as promised, we have lots of Legolas angst and Estel tort..., uhm, I mean, Estel in the next post. Please don't kill me, always remember: Dead authors tend to update rather infrequently. A review might help though. What do you think? Review? Please? *puppy dog eyes*
Additional A/N:
Helen T - *g* It was 'only' Legolas that feel into the lake? *g* Don't let certain people here hear that! I am very much looking forward to that review you promised me! Thanks for the reviews!
Gwyn - Well, okay, you might be right there, 'hot' isn't essentially the right term for it right now. And to be perfectly honest, I haven't fallen for Legolas, neither in the books nor in the movies. I read the books before the movies came out, and from Day One I loved Aragorn, although I would hardly say that I have fallen for him. *shrugs* I never liked blondes, anyway... *g*
Coreinha - *smugly* That is your problem, my friend! I know perfectly well that I am addicted to reviews and therefore DO beg for reviews at any given opportunity! At least I _face_ my weaknesses... *g* *huggles her* Thanks! And I am sure that you know _many_ ways of helping a half-frozen elf, no doubt about that! *eyes grow wide* You would do THAT to me if I killed Celylith? Okay, maybe I will reconsider ... I will definitely reconsider... *g*
XsilicaX - Ah well, you _could_ say that he is brave - I for my part say that he's stupid though. VERY stupid, but hey, he got lucky! He's still alive, that's something! *evil grin* Oh, I am quite sure you know how to warm him up, but I think it's best if you stayed right where you are. Exactly there, that's it, good girl, we don't watn to scare the poor ranger, now do we? *g* Exactly! Without us women men would be totally lost! I try to tell them all the time, but they rather listen, do they? *sighs* Men.
Firniswin - *g* So you love Legolas _and_ Aragorn! Very good, it's only fair this way... *blushes* Thanks so much for all your - very nice, btw - compliments, I'm glad you like it so much! Thanks for the review!
Imbefaniel - *shrugs* We're all obsessed with one character or another, aren't we? But if you really _believe_ you're an elf, I think it is time to seek professional help. Very, very fast! *g* I gave Legolas your flowers and the cards, I'm sure he'll really appreciate them once he's awake properly...
Mouse - *g* 'Not enough left of them to fill a thimble'. I like that! And you're right, of course... Thanks a lot, and as I said, we're allowed to drink here as well - fortunately! Otherwise I'd spent most of the last three years in jail for underage drinking or whatever it's called. *g*
Halo - *ducks* Hey! You can't hit me on my birthday! There's a law against that! And if there isn't, there should be! And I didn't kill him, that's something, right? Right? Jeez, just you wait, it can get MUCH worse, believe me...
Alilacia - *pats her back* Calm down, everything's alright, Legolas will be just fine. Okay? Well, about the cliffy thing: I couldn't resist this one? I just love them, there's nothing I can do! *chuckles* Oh yes, Aragorn will _definitely_ need Legolas' help soon. Definitely! I haven't read HP 4 yet, but I know what happens and cuse JKR every minute of every day. Argh, how could she? She's plain evil, that's what she is...
LOTRStarwarsMatrixFan - Yeah, somehow it always happens this way. One or two chapters with action and then one where they take a little break. They deserve one from time to time, mind you... And you're right, King Thranduil would most definitely not been happy to see his son's bones decorate the bottom of the Long Lake... *g* I have NO idea why you think I have more in store for them, really, I have not. *shrugs innocently* I would never harm them - permanently.
Miss Understood - Uhm, okay, I see what you mean. If you're so obsessed with Seobryn, then just ignore the conversation Aragorn and he will be having, okay? Well, Aragorn's birthday is on the 1st of March, 2931 (TA), but Legolas' sin't known, I'm afraid. You really got up early for this story? That's sweet!
LOTRFaith - Of yourse Legolas is alive, as I said, I am not suicidal. Oh, and I wouldn't say they don't get into trouble for a while. Hm, that dpends on how you define 'a while', I guess... *evil grin* Thanks a lot for reviewing!
Zam - *backs off* Okay, Zam, sure, Celylith is yours. Nobody wants him, really, they're just ...joking, they're joking, that's it... *nervous smile* So it was your voice? I should have known, though, it was _really_ weird. I just KNEW that someone was going to complain about the hair! Really, you need to get your priorities in order, people... A Tellyn Fangirl Group? Oh, yes, why not, go ahead, have fun... You are bit obsessed with Celylith, did you know that? Just a thought...
Lina - *watches Éomer blow harmonica etc* Hey, I was wrojng about him! He isn't stupid after all! He's just a musician, that's all! *g* LOL, 'Skiddaddle'? Don't tell me that's actually a word! LOL, you're going after him with scuba gear, huh? Well, would have been nice, but you kinda forgot the ... waterfall... *watches Lina fall over waterfall* There she goes. Ah well, at least now Éomer and his Rohirrim have something to do, for a change... *g*
Critternut - Glad you like the plushy! You can never have enough of them, that's what I always say... And don't worry, I didn't get drunk - much. I still knew my first name. That's somthing, isn't it? Thanks for reviewing!
NaughtyNat - Yup, Aragorn owies coming up next chapter, don't worry! Well, I still can't believe I actually inspired anyone to write anything - but apparently I have! Thanks! *huggles her*
Elladan - Great you liked it! And you're not the only one that is beginning to like Celylith, I think there will be a fan club soon... *g* Thanks a lot for the review!
TrinityTheSheDevil - *defensively* Well, that _was_ the title. I have thought of a better one by now, really! Oh no, you don't! *grabs Trin* No sharing body heat, understood? Really, you people... *glares at Trin* No, it is NOT a grey hair, you hear men? It's not! *gived her the look* You're evil... *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - No, indeed I did NOT kill Legolas, although I have to admit that I was tempted to for a moment or two. Self-preservation stopped me in the end... *g* See? Here's the next cliffy, and chapter 11 has one as well! Yay!
Alisha - *mouth hangs open* Well, I guess you're the only person here who actually _wants_ me to kill Celylith! And what about a dog? You could simply get aour Nólad-clone a dog to keep him company! And you still have your guinea pig, haven't you? You're right, it was very lucky that Legolas is an elf, or otherwise he really might have suffered a little brain damage. Or perhaps he has? *shrugs* With him you never know... You're right again! Scroll-wheel-less mice are a horror! *g*
Alexa - I am not mad! I am merely evil, that's a difference! Great you still like it though, even though the story's a bit weird ... or mad ... or insane. Whichever suits you best. *g*
Stacee Phelps - Well, I really hope I won't do anything that will get me to face a friendly judge - althought I wouldn't count on it. They might have passed a law against cliffies or something! *g* Thanks a lot for the review!
Fliewatuet - Well, and he got rescued! That is another good thing that happened to him, isn't it? Thanks for the birthday wishes and: Don't you like cliffies? I really have no idea why - they are soooo much fun! Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling evilly*
Jenny - *nods* There you're right - cold water can hurt an awful lot! But you know I would never harm him - permanetly, don't you? I may be evil, but I'm not insane! *g* Thanks for reviewing!
Arwen-Evenstar - Well, yes, Aragorn is going to get into a whole lot of trouble - he is very good at that, isn't he? *shakes head* Reckless human, that one... *huggles her* Thanks for all the great reviews! They really help me - a lot!
Nilbrethiliel - Bei uns ist es gar nicht so heiss, die letzten paar Tage warne eigentlich mit ca. 20 °C ziemlich kuehl! Schroedingergleichung? Hoert sich ja gefaehrlich an... *g* *starrt mit grossen Augen* Nun, wenn du meinst ... freut mich doch, dass du die Fruendschafts-Szenen so magst! Oh, und so was hat mit Einzelkind oder nicht nichts zu tun! Meine Geschwister sind ganz sicher nicht so, glaub mir! LOL, also ist Celylith IN deinem Bett? Dann lass das mal lieber nicht Zam hoeren... Den Spruch kenne und liebe ich natuerlich auch! 'Und aus dem Chaoes sprach eine Stimme zu mir...' *g*
Amelie - *bliushes* Great you like it so much! I really hope this was fast enough! Thanks a lot for the review!
Ciria - WOW! Such a long review! Thanks! *huggles her* Glad you're back - although I understand your reasons for not reviewing, of course. Yup, LOTR is dubbed here as well, if you watch it in a normal cinema. I always go to watch it in the original version in English because I really can't stand the German version - it's so silly! LOL, I can certainly imagine Celylith caring for a baby orc! Hey, nice idea, I might use that somewhere... About the language thing: I'm not really certain. I would imagine that he learnt Westron from his parents and then Elvish when he was brought to Rivendell. But I imagine he would have forgotten much of the Common Tongue after a while (besides, how well can you speak with 2 years?). Well, I hope you have lots of fun wherever you're going! Thanks!
LeggyLover03 - Well, we will have Aragorn pain in chapter 11, I think. So only one more chapter! Thanks for the review!
Marbienl - *hangs head* I know, I know! I will send you a review for that last chapter, never fear, it just might take me some time... Well, school isn't out here, we still have three more weeks to go! *sighs* Great. And no, Aragorn will not catch a cold or anything - once again, too easy. Believe me, it can get much, much worse than that... *g* Sure I have read TMAATB! It's so funny and I really hope TiO updates soon! *glares darkly at Miki* You listening? Thanks a lot for this looooong review! *huggles Marbienl*
One15 - One! Toll, dich mal wieder zu sehen! Ich dachte schon fast, ich haette irgendetwas geschrieben, dass dir uebelst missfallen hat! *g* Genau, ich haette Legolas NIE so sterben lassen! Ich meine, ich will ja auch noch ein bisschen leben, und das waere ja reiner Selbstmord, nech? Es gibt so viele Legolas Fans, da waere das ja einfach nur daemlich! Vielen Dank fuer die review, und die Geburtstagswuensche natuerlich!
Anya - *not very impressed* I have a pet balrog myself, so you'll forgive me if I'm not properly intimidated, okay? His name's Stan, and he protects me from plot bunnies and overzealous readers... *g* I still hope this is soon enough for you? Don't worry, Aragorn torture is coming up soon, and thanks a lot for reviewing!
*grins insanely at reviewers* Thankssss, reviewerssss, thank yousss verysss much! We lovesss reviewsss, we doesss, precious... *hits herself again* Just ignore that, will you? Thanks a lot for the lovely reviews!