Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.
A/N:
Yeah, you're right, even the _characters_ have figured out that they will end up in serious trouble - if even THEY get it, it must be bad, huh? *evil grin* But don't worry, that's still a few chapters away...
I would love (hm, okay, make that 'like', I'm not looking forward to it _that_ much) to see "Pirates of the Caribbean" (Oh, and thank you VERY MUCH for that mental image, Alilacia! It _really_ helped me!! *mock glares at her*), but unfortunately, it won't come out here for at least three more weeks. We're a month behind almost all the time - fortunately not with LOTR! I would have _died_ if I'd had to wait for another four weeks! *winces at mere thought*
I don't know yet if the poor messenger-elf, Anardir, is making another appearance in this story, perhaps in the very end. I could put him in the next story though, he could take Celylith's place ... j/k!! Really! I haven't decided yet what to do with him, calm down, and whatever happens to him will happen in chapter 18, no sooner. So you have to wait, sorry. *g*
Fine, here's the next bit now, and as promised Aragorn finally talks about his nightmares. *sighs* Poor, reckless human... In addition to that, the three take their leave from Owaeran and family, and some old friends make a reappearance in the end. *g*
Oh, and usually I don't use song lyrics, but this whole chapter was written while listening to that particular song, and so I saw it fitting to put them in here. *shrugs* Won't happen so much more often, I think.
Enjoy and review, please!
Chapter 14
Wake me up inside,
Wake me up inside,
Call my name and save me from the dark,
Bid my blood to run,
Before I come undone,
Save me from the nothing I've become…
("Bring Me To Life", Evanescence)
The next morning came far too soon, and the whole house seemed to hum with activity while everybody ran around preparing the departure of the Master's guests. Bags with enough food and water to feed a company of six were provided, since Misien insisted that the poor "boys" needed the food urgently.
The horses were made ready, and the stable hands learned the hard way that elven horses did not enjoy being cooped up for a week. Especially the "demon", as the men had quickly dubbed Rashwe – much to Aragorn's amusement – was causing trouble, rolling his eyes and lashing out at everyone who tried to come near him until the stable hands gave up and sent for Legolas in the hope that the horse would calm down once its master was near.
Five minutes after Legolas had left for the stables, mumbling under his breath about the incompetence of humans when it came to horses – not a very fair claim since the men didn't even have the means to calm the horse for they didn't speak Elvish – Aragorn was ready to leave.
Granted, it had taken him about five minutes longer than usual to get ready, but he blamed that on his muscles that were already stiff from spending so much time in a bed, an activity, or rather non-activity that always resulted in the stiffness of his whole body. There was the fact that putting on his shirt and tunic had proven to be rather painful, let alone fastening his cloak at his neck, but that was a small matter, of course.
Now however, he was ready and more than eager to escape his room. The young ranger could hardly wait to leave the house and get out of this town, as fascinating as Lake-town might be, he had lost quite a lot of his initial enthusiasm for the settlement.
He girded his weaponbelt, took up the remaining bags and slowly made his way downstairs, deciding that he really felt a lot better. His head seemed to have calmed down some, at least up to the point where he could move it around without it threatening to explode. The burns were still painful of course, but they were healing and not nearly as bad as they had been, and the cracked rib was nothing he hadn't experienced before.
All in all, he was fine. He grimaced inwardly. His father would have given him the look at this point, dragged him back to his bedroom and left the twins behind to guard him while he went making one of his infamous teas, probably mumbling under his breath about the irresponsibility of youth and the fact that his son's definition of the word 'fine' needed to be addressed at one point or another.
'Fortunately,' he thought, walking down the corridors and placing his bags next to the others, 'Ada is not here.'
Legolas could be just as bad though, especially if he blamed himself, and the elven prince did that every time he was injured, no matter how obvious it was that he was not at fault. And it had not been his elven friend's fault, he shook his head slightly, it had been his own. He had acted without thinking, once again.
Elladan was right, one of these days he would get himself killed that way. His oldest brother always claimed that he was too impatient, too reckless and too careless with his life.
And perhaps he was even right in that assessment, for sometimes the young ranger took risks a normal human never would have, but he didn't even think twice about them since he had grown up with the elves who were naturally stronger, more graceful, faster and more agile than men.
'And who are also very hard to kill,' a voice inside his head stated. 'Unlike you.'
The young man growled in annoyance. That was another thing he had to talk about with his father; this little voice in his head was getting more and more persistent. But then again, if he told his father, Elrond would probably lock him in his room and get Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn and every other wise person he could think of to make sure that he was not falling under the influence of some kind of evil.
"…you alright?"
A soft elven voice interrupted this particular train of thought, and Aragorn looked up to look into the face of Celylith who had stopped where he had been taking up some bags to load them onto the horses, studying him in concern.
"Yes," he quickly nodded. He certainly wouldn't tell the silver haired elf what he had been thinking about. "Yes, I am fine."
Celylith shot him an disbelieving look but shrugged after a second.
"Well, if you're fine you can help me load the horses."
Aragorn grinned and pointed accusingly at the elf, mock alarm on his face.
"Who are you and why are you looking like my friend? You can't be the same elf who wanted to drug me yesterday rather than let me take a walk!"
"Strider, I have no appeciation whatsoever for your odd sense of humour right now," the elf growled, pushing the human gently into the direction of the bags. "Now come and help me or we won't leave today at all."
"And we don't want that," the ranger nodded, taking up a few leather bags and stepping outside where the horses were waiting. While he was loading the animals with their baggage, he squinted slightly to help his eyes adjust to the harsh morning sun. The day was beautiful with blue sky and not a single cloud in sight, something that greatly pleased the ranger. No clouds meant no snow, and they already had more than enough of that.
When they had just loaded the last of the bags onto the horses, leaving only Legolas' baggage sitting next to the door, the elven prince appeared, trailed by his horse that looked around it innocently. The stable hands were standing at the doors of the stables that were located to the left of Owaeran's house, following the animal's movements with a mixture of relief and hate on their faces.
Legolas stopped his horse and began to load his bags onto the animal's back, and Aragorn stepped closer to the both of them, looking at the horse warily.
"Rashwe is enjoying this," he stated after a minute, looking the white horse in the eye. "I swear this animal thrives on chaos and fear."
He could have sworn he had seen a dangerous sparkle in the horse's eyes, but before he could look closer, Legolas' voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Estel! He does no such thing! Rashwe is an elven horse!"
"And your point is?" the young ranger questioned, carefully stepping away form the horse. "This elven horse tried to kill my brothers."
Legolas made a dismissive movement with his hand, stuffing the last of the provisions into his saddlebags.
"They exaggerate."
Aragorn gave Rashwe a long look.
"Somehow I doubt it."
Celylith laughed and motioned a servant to step closer and take the reins of the three horses while they made their way inside to say good-bye to Owaeran and his family.
"I'm afraid Strider's right, my lord. That horse is indeed rather … unusual."
Legolas glared darkly at his friend.
"Your pets are so much more common, aren't they, my friend?"
"At least my pets don't want to eat me or my frie…" the other elf began, and when he saw the raised eyebrows of his companions, he quickly added, "Never mind."
A second later they reached the large dining room that was brightly lit by the sunlight this time of day, the sunbeams dancing over the dark wooden boards and painting intricate patterns on the wood.
The three of them entered the room to find Owaeran, his wife, daughter and apprentice already present, all sitting at the table where the last remnants of the breakfast were just being cleared away by two servant girls. The men rose from their seats, looking at the three young beings expectantly.
"We are ready to leave, Master Owaeran," Legolas said, nodding his head politely to the two women who had remained seated. "In the name of the king I thank you all for your hospitality. Should you or any of your kin ever need the help of the elves of Mirkwood, do not hesitate to ask and you shall have it. We are in your debt."
Owaeran gave a slight bow, and Misien stood up, walking around the table.
"Thank you, Prince Legolas," she said, noting the surprised expression on the males' faces with a fine smile. "Yes, I know that you are the prince, and I have for some time now. I may not travel to Mirkwood all the time, but I am not stupid." She smiled at the two elves and the ranger, a stern expression on her face. "Do be careful, all of you. Having the two of you brought here wounded was something I had never wished to see. And you, my dear," she turned to Aragorn who looked back at her, eyes wide, "You make sure that the two of them eat enough. They are far too thin!"
The young man stared at her for a second, noticing that Seveawen who sat behind her mother at the table was burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.
"Uhm, yes, my lady," he said, ignoring the frozen faces of his elven companions. "You are right. I will make sure that they do."
The three gave another bow to the two ladies and made their way out of the room, followed by Seobryn and Owaeran who were escorting them to the front door. While Celylith and Aragorn were saying good-bye to the trader, Legolas pulled Seobryn a little to the side.
"Here," he said, smiling at the slightly startled face of the boy and handing him a small, folded piece of paper, "This is another poem your lady would like, I think. Just remember what I told you about not staring at her … well, you know, just don't stare at her too openly, most maidens find that uncomfortable."
Seobryn began to stammer his thanks, but Legolas brushed it aside with a wave of his hand.
"No thanks is needed, Master Human. I am in your debt, more deeply than I could ever repay you. You saved Estel's life a few months back, and that is something I will never forget. But," he looked at the boy seriously, "Do not tell him about this. Ever. Understood?"
The boy nodded, brushing back a strand of his light brown hair.
"Understood, your Highness. Thank you for all your help."
"Oh," Legolas muttered wryly as they were walking up to the others, "It was my pleasure."
The three of them took the reins of their horses, ready to leave behind the house they had spent the past week in, when Owaeran stepped in front of them, looking at them with almost beseeching eyes.
"Please," he began, looking at them in turn, "I know I cannot change your minds now, and I thank you from the bottom of my very heart that you are doing this to help my brother and his friends, but please, I beg you, be cautious! I do not want to see anyone else hurt because of my brother's actions, and I know he wouldn't want that either."
Aragorn nodded at the older man, smiling slightly.
"We will be, Master Owaeran. With Elbereth's help we will return shortly, with your brother and his friends. Thank you for your hospitality."
The three nodded their heads at the trader and Seobryn who stood next to his employer, staring at them with disapproving eyes. Aragorn winked at the younger man, eyes twinkling.
"Take care, Seobryn. Do not get yourself into trouble."
"I, Estel?" the boy lifted an amused eyebrow as he watched his friend and the elves slowly walk down the rather crowded catwalk, each of them leading his horse. "That does sound rather strange, coming from you!"
The ranger acted as if he hadn't heard that last remark and merely gave a last wave before they disappeared round a corner and passed out of sight.
To get out of Lake-town proved to be rather difficult, for it was a market day and there were at least twice as many people crowding the streets and narrow catwalks. After more than an hour they had finally managed to get off the wooden islands, and, passing the guards that were posted at the head of the large wooden bridge that led to the western shore of the Long Lake, they set foot on solid ground and mounted their horses, directing them northwards, into the direction of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain in whose shadow lay the valley of Dale.
"Well," Celylith said as they were slowly riding northwards towards the ferry that would take them across the already half-frozen Forest River, "I have to admit that this visit wasn't … quite as I had imagined it."
"Really?" Legolas asked ironically, looking at his friend in mock surprise. "You expected something different?"
"No," the silver haired elf admitted, smiling ruefully at his prince and the ranger, "No, not really. But one can hope."
"Yes," Aragorn agreed and returned the smile as he carefully rotated his left shoulder, ckecking the movement hindered by the bandages under his clothes, "You are right, mellonamin. One can always hope."
Softly, as if to himself, he added,
"It just doesn't help any, that's all."
The two elves traded a concerned glance, and Legolas gave the Long Lake a last look, this time not at all captivated by the beauty of the shimmering waters. If anything, the lake looked evil and menacing in his eyes, the place of too many dark things that had happened in these past seven days.
Turning back to his solemn companions, he began to curse his decision to come to Esgaroth, and slowly he was asking himself if Celylith was right and they were getting into more trouble than they could handle.
"No," Aragorn muttered on the evening of the same day, eyeing a little biscuit-like thing he held in his hand suspiciously, as if expecting it to grow wings and fly away. "No, you must be wrong, Legolas."
"He isn't," Celylith protested, nibbling at his own biscuit with an expression of disgust on his face. "It is really food."
"That is a matter of opinion," the young ranger said dryly, softly poking his biscuit.
Legolas laughed loudly, throwing another log into the fire.
"Stop complaining, you two. That is cram, it is something like the Lake-men's lembas."
"It doesn't taste like lembas though," the other elf complained. "In fact, it tastes…"
"…like sawdust baked in an oven for a few years," Aragorn finished Celylith's sentence, looking at his piece of cram quizzically. "Does one of you have a hammer? I don't think my human teeth will be able to cope with that … cram."
The elven prince grinned, remembering his own reaction when he had first seen a piece of cram. It was the Lake-men's waybread, the kind of food they took on long journeys. It had many beneficial characteristics, for example was supposed to keep good indefinitely and to be incredibly sustaining, but being an enjoyable food was not one of them, nor had it ever been intended to, Legolas suspected.
"Here," he tossed both of them a packet with dried fruit and meat, "If you two are too picky to eat what our hosts have so graciously given us, then have some of these."
The young ranger and the silver haired elf traded a dark look before they both took their cram and stuffed it into their mouths in one piece. After chewing for about ten minutes, Aragorn finally managed to swallow the last bit of the biscuit and quickly grabbed a waterskin, taking a hasty gulp of the cool liquid.
"Ilúvatar!" he gasped, grimacing slightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that the dear Master Owaeran and his wife are trying to kill us!"
"Poison," Celylith nodded grimly, snatching Aragorn's waterskin and taking a sip himself. "I don't know what they're hoping to accomplish, but this counts as poisoning in my opinion."
Legolas laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. These two were sometimes impossible.
"You will get used to it," he said nonchalantly, his hands playing with the string of his bow.
"Oh, of course I will," the young ranger muttered under his breath, loud enough for his elven friends to understand his words. "In a lifetime or two."
"Come now, Estel," Legolas laughed, an evil gleam in his eyes. "It is…"
"If you don't want to lose a limb or two, then don't say 'It is good for you'," the dark haired man advised, glaring darkly at the elven prince.
"But it is," Legolas grinned, quickly moving backwards when the human threw the rest of his cram into his direction. "Don't waste our food like that, ranger, do you want us to starve?"
"Hah!" Aragorn snorted, suppressing a yawn. "We will be there in two days, it would be no small feat indeed to starve in that period of time!"
"If I have learned one thing, it is that everything is possible when one is travelling with the two of you," Celylith interjected darkly. "Absolutely everything."
He ignored the scathing looks his two companions shot him and studied the obviously tired form of the young ranger closely.
"You are tired, Strider," he said added softly. "You should go to sleep, the tent is already pitched."
Legolas took a look at the face of his human friend and nodded, silencing him with a stern look.
"He is right, Aragorn. Go to sleep, we will keep watch tonight."
"I am no child!" the dark haired ranger protested as he was pushed into the direction of the small tent they had pitched in the shadow of some tall trees at the edge of the small glade they had chosen for their campsite. "I am more than capable of taking my part of the watches!"
"Of course you are," Legolas soothed his friend. "But you are injured, in pain and very tired, and don't try to deny it. You need your sleep tonight, let us worry about the watches."
Aragorn gave both of them a dark glare before he disappeared into his tent, forcefully slapping the canvas to the side and mumbling under his breath about over-protective, irritating elves.
Grinning slightly at each other, the two elves settled down next to the fire, listening to the sounds of the night all around them. Sometime around midnight they decided to count all the times they had returned to the palace of Legolas' father injured in one way or another, but after half an hour they gave up, deciding that that activity would take them the rest of the night.
"But you surely do remember the one time we came back after that encounter with the mountain trolls! Eru, rarely have I seen your father that angry!" Celylith chortled, crumbling another piece of cram between his fingers. A while ago he had decided that he was doing all of them a favour if he destroyed this poor excuse for a waybread.
"Or I yours, if I remember correctly," Legolas countered, smiling in recollection of that rather eventful day. "That was the year he sent you to your mother's family in Lothlórien to prevent you from getting yourself into trouble, wasn't it?" When his silver haired friend nodded, he added with a grin, "Not that it really helped, but…"
"That wasn't my fault!" the other elf protested, looking at his friend with innocent eyes. "Rúmil and his friends insisted that it was a good idea!"
"Of course," the fair haired elf grinned. "These things are never your fault, forgive me…"
A small, muttering sound could be heard behind them, and the two elves whirled around, looking at the small tent and taking in their surroundings with keen eyes. The sound could be heard again, and Legolas was able to make out words, first in Sindarin, but then the speaker seemed to settle for Quenya.
"Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome!"
Legolas looked at Celylith, silver-blue eyes hard and determined.
"It is enough," he said, narrowing his eyes in concern. "His stubbornness has gone far enough now!"
The other elf only nodded, took up his bow and looked at his companion.
"I will go. Call if you need me, I will hear you."
With a thin smile at the elven prince Celylith turned and disappeared between the trees, giving the two friends the privacy they needed. Legolas began to quickly walk up to the small tent, wincing when he heard the pained voice of his human friend call out again for his father in the ancient tongue of the High Elves. At any other time he would have accredited the man for speaking that beautiful language flawlessly and without a detectable accent, but such thoughts were quickly driven from his mind when he heard the agonised, pleading note in his friend's voice.
He pulled the front flap of the tent aside and, ducking his head, stepped into the dark space, his elven eyes effortlessly piercing the blackness and fixing on the distressed form of his sleeping friend that was throwing his head from side to side, silver tears gleaming on his cheeks in the sparse moonlight.
Legolas knelt down next the young man and reached out to calm him, but at his touch Aragorn jerked away harshly, crying out in his sleep and almost hitting the elf in the face.
"Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat … Lá!"
The elven prince shook his head and tried gently to catch the young man's flailing arms, doing his best to restrain the human and to free him of his nightmares at the same time.
"Aragorn!" he called loudly, carefully grasping his left wrist, pressing it down and trying to harm the still healing left side of Aragorn's body as little as possible. "Aragorn! Wake up! Come back to me, your brothers are safe! Estel!"
The young ranger didn't seem to hear him for he kept struggling against the hands that held him down, trying to escape the dark shadows that haunted his dream, still speaking in the language that the Noldor had used when they returned from Valinor in pursuit of Melkor who had stolen the Silmarils and brought them to Middle-Earth.
"Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna! Útúla, atar…"
Legolas tightened his grip on his friend, shaking him slightly now.
"Estel! Wake! This is but a dream, the darkness cannot harm you now! You found your way back! Now find your way back here as well! Wake up, please, Aragorn!"
Suddenly, the young human's eyes shot open, and when they took in the figure crouching next to him, he renewed his struggles to escape, obviously not recognising his friend. The elven prince gently pressed the man back down, talking to him quietly in Elvish until the silver eyes showed some recognition.
"L-Legolas?" he asked shakily, blinking up at the elf in the near complete darkness of the tent. "What…"
"You had a nightmare," Legolas said simply, slowly letting go of the young ranger's wrists. "A bad one. You called for your father and your brothers, in Quenya."
"Quenya?" Aragorn muttered as he sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. In that position, with the tousled hair and drying tear tracks on his cheeks he looked about ten years old, Legolas decided inwardly.
"Oh yes, I thought about one of ada's favourite poems right before I went to sleep, something rather long and incredibly boring about the two trees and their light – or something like that," the ranger explained quietly, forcefully suppressing the shudders that raced through his body and trying to ignore the dull ache of the left side of his chest. "It's in Quenya, I was probably still thinking in that language when I was dreaming." He looked at the elven prince, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for waking me."
Legolas slowly sat back, giving the ranger some space. The pleading expression in his human friend's eyes begged him not to ask, not to force him to tell him what he had seen in his dreams, but the elf had had enough. Aragorn needed to talk about these nightmares which seemed only to have worsened since the last time.
'And can you blame him?' a voice inside his head asked.
"Aragorn," Legolas began softly, studying the young man's face intently who was staring into nothing with vacant eyes. "You must tell someone about this. Please, let me help you."
The dark haired human raised his head and looked at the elf.
"Please, Legolas … don't ask me to…"
"Yes, I do!" the elven prince countered, eyes blazing in the darkness. "I see how much these dreams torment you, I see how you become thinner and paler every day because you do not sleep enough! I see that you are hurting and you expect me to do nothing?"
"Legolas…" Aragorn looked at his elven friend beseechingly. "I cannot tell you."
"Why?" the elven prince asked, his patience finally spent. He narrowed his eyes, his tone of voice sharper than he actually wanted it to be. "Why not? Tell me! Why didn't you want your father to come and help you? What is it that torments you so in your sleep?"
The human slowly closed his eyes and hung his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For a few minutes it was silent, and when Legolas was just about to apologise for his harsh words, Aragorn raised his head again, staring at the face of his friend that was shrouded in darkness.
"Because he dies," he whispered softly, a desperate, heart-wrenching sound. "I don't want Elrond to come because he dies, night after night; every night." He fell silent and averted his eyes. "As do you and sometimes my brothers."
Legolas swallowed, feeling as if someone had just knocked him over the head with a large, metal-plated club. And right now, he even thought he'd deserve it.
The young ranger looked at him with tears in his grey eyes.
"You want to know what it is I see? I see you die, over and over again, and one death is worse than the last." Two tears fell from his eyes and slowly began to make their way down his cheeks. Aragorn stared at the dark canvas in front of him, eyes wide and unseeing. "They all start the same way. I am back in that cave in Eskadol where you found me, back in the darkness and it is closing in on me, growing, intensifying, coming closer. It is suffocating me, draping itself over me like a dark blanket. I am drowning in that blackness and then, when I am sure that it will swallow me whole, everything shifts and I am no longer alone."
He clenched his jaw slightly before he continued.
"Donyc is there, and sometimes Cornallar, and now that man from the warehouse, Lomar. They are laughing at me and taunting me and my weakness, and then…" Legolas needn't be told that at this point Aragorn's memories emerged, memories of what those men and the elf had done to him a few months ago.
The young ranger bowed his head and refused to meet his friend's gaze.
"But that's not what makes me lose control. After some time, they stop and my father will suddenly be there, or you, or the twins. They start taunting me again, telling me that I am useless and not strong enough to help you, and they're right! I watch you die, every night I close my eyes I see these pictures! They torture you to death and there is nothing I can do to stop it, nothing!"
Aragorn looked up again, self-accusation shining in his eyes now.
"I am helpless! Helpless as I was when Donyc took you captive, helpless as I was when Cornallar lured ada right into his trap, helpless as I was in that warehouse! I watch you and Elrond die again and again, and I know that it is because I am too weak to help you!"
"It is only a dream, Estel," Legolas tried to soothe the man, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "It is not real, it never happened. You are not weak…"
"Oh, am I not?" Aragorn's head snapped around and he swatted at Legolas' hand. "Then why couldn't I stop them, in reality and in the dreams? I was powerless to do anything when Donyc was beating you back in that cave, just as I was powerless to defend myself against Addramyr in the end! Had Elladan and Elrohir not come, I would be dead now! If that is not weak, then what is it?"
Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head, berating himself for not having noticed before that this was what was bothering his friend. But he could understand the young ranger perfectly well, he just needed to imagine he would see his father and Aragorn die every night…
"It is called being trapped," he said softly, ignoring the human's attempts to evade him and grasping his chin, gently turning his head around until their eyes met. "You were trapped, Aragorn, and by no fault of yours. Do you think your brothers and me weak because we didn't come to your aid any sooner?"
Aragorn quickly shook his head.
"No, of course not, you couldn't…"
"Exactly," the elven prince smiled. "We couldn't, because we were trapped as well. We tried everything in our power to reach you. We tried, mellonamin, and that is the point. I know you fought them every step of the way, because you are too stubborn and thick-headed to do anything else. You tried, Aragorn, and that was all you could do. The odds were not in your favour, and hadn't you acted as you did, you would be dead now. You managed to keep Addramyr at bay long enough for your brothers to reach you. You aren't weak, and we are all safe."
Silver-blue eyes bore into grey ones, and Legolas added, emphasising every word,
"Your father is alive, and so are I and your brothers. You are strong, I know you are, my friend. You could never lose your way, because you carry your family always in your heart. They are always with you, Aragorn." He smiled at the human in front of him. "Do not let your enemies triumph in the end by letting yourself be consumed by this darkness. They are dead, and we are still alive, and that is all that matters."
Aragorn looked at him, looking for any signs that the elf was just saying this out of a sense of pity, and when he found one, he tentatively returned the smile. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Legolas was well over two thousand years old and – as he had insisted so many times – far wiser than he was.
"Thank you," he simply said, looking the other in the eye. "Thank you, Legolas."
The fair haired elf smiled broadly at the young human, noting with satisfaction that the turmoil in his friend's silver eyes began to die down.
"There is no need to thank me, Estel. That's what friends are for, isn't it?" He gently pressed the man back down, making a mental note to have a look at the burns in the morning. All this jolting just couldn't be good for the healing injuries. "Go back to sleep, reckless human. Do not let the darkness claim you again, and if it does, I will be here to help you fight it."
Aragorn allowed his friend to press him down on the sleeping mat, eyes closing on their own account as the mental and physical exhaustion once again began to catch up with him.
"You are there as well, you know," he mumbled, already on the brink of sleep.
"Where, Estel?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Always with me," Aragorn answered sleepily. "You are the voice yelling 'Look out, idiot!'."
The blonde elf grinned.
"Well, someone has to, don't you think? You are far too careless as it is; we will have to have a talk about that tomorrow."
The ranger didn't answer, and Legolas saw with satisfaction that he was asleep once again, looking more relaxed than he had seen him in weeks.
The elven prince smiled and moved over to the tent's entrance, pulling the front flap to the side to let the sparse moonlight into the dark interior of tent. Sighing softly, he sat down at the entrance, musing if he should let Celylith know that he could return or not. After a moment, he decided against it, having come to the decision that he needed some time on his own.
If he had known what it was that Aragorn was dreaming about, he wouldn't have pressed him as he had, but then again, this had been the only way to make the man tell him about the nightmares… Donyc's face appeared suddenly in his mind's eye, and Legolas balled his hands into fists when he remembered what that man had done to his friend.
'He is dead now,' he thought, taking a deep breath, 'He is dead, I watched him die.'
That knowledge did little to comfort him since he saw how his human friend was still suffering from the time he had spent as that accursed man's captive, and once again Legolas felt the powerful need to kill Donyc, again, and this time more slowly.
He shook his head slightly, deciding that this was a most childish wish. Besides, it was unbecoming an elven warrior, but Legolas couldn't help it. That human and Cornallar had deserved death, as had that Lomar that had killed himself a few days ago.
'But there are still the other men that are responsible for that Lomar's actions,' he decided with a grim smile, leaning back against a tent pole. 'And they will pay for their companion's deeds, Elbereth, I will make sure of that!'
When Celylith returned an hour later, he was still pondering that thought, a humourless expression on his face that did not bode well for the men's future.
Adruran was a patient man, a trait that had served him well in the past and would probably serve him well in the future. However, to everything there were limits, and he was slowly but surely reaching his, even though he tried to hide that feeling and did his best not to let his men see what he was thinking.
But this was almost as bad as the time in Lake-town, he decided grumpily, slowly moving a whetstone across the blade of his sword. They had arrived here in Dale a little more than a week ago, and he had ordered his men to keep hidden near a small hill near the settlement called Ravenhill.
There had been an old watch-post once, but it was abandoned now and only slowly being rebuilt; the Men of Dale obviously concentrated rather on the city itself and the modernisation of the road that led to the Lonely Mountain where the Dwarf King Dáin Ironfoot resided, who had taken the title of King under the Mountain after Thorin Oakenshield's death in the Battle of Five Armies twelve years ago.
The township of Dale itself was swiftly growing, for now that a new King had returned to the place and the dragon was no longer a threat, it reassumed its old position as a trading post with the dwarves of Erebor.
But it wasn't yet big enough that a group of twenty strange men would not attract attention, and the very last thing Adruran needed right now was to be brought before King Bard and be forced to explain himself.
The man set aside his sword before he could file the blade to the width of a hair, something that would happen rather quickly if he didn't pay attention. No, it had been a lot better to stay in the shadows and observe quietly, for he really didn't think that the King of Dale would thank them for what they were about to do.
Two days ago he and two of his lieutenants, Tiddryr and Bleon, who had accompanied him to the town, had finally been able to track down one of the men they had been looking for who had apparently come to Dale to replenish the group's provisions. After a short discussion they had decided not to approach the man – for which the lad should be more than thankful in Adruran's opinion – but to watch him closely, to find out where his companions were and how far they had got with their little treasure hunt.
Adruran had followed the man himself, and had quickly come to the decision that these men deserved no better than what would eventually be happening to them. He had never seen anyone as conspicuous as that human who had been behaving so forced normally that all that was missing was a sign on his back saying "Attention! I have something to hide!!"
Now they knew where the camp of the Lake-men was located, and three of his men were hidden close by and were watching every single one of their movements. If anything happened at all, Adruran would be the first to know. All in all, the situation was perfectly under control, and the only thing that grated on his nerves was the fact that he had to wait, once again.
He wasn't even overly concerned with the guards that were with the Lake-men, apparently not to their immoderate joy either. They probably belonged to the same group that had been looking for the man they had … interrogated in Lake-town, and if that was so, they were no threat to his men.
No, his problem was the waiting. As mentioned before, Adruran was a patient man, but the last month had been too much even for him. To him it seemed that he had been doing nothing else than staying in the shadows and waiting for something to happen, and that was something that he couldn't cope very well with.
On the other hand, he didn't intend to search for that treasure himself, if such a thing even existed, something which he doubted somewhat. But his liege had been so sure that it did, and his lord usually gathered all the information he could before sending anyone on a mission. In this case it had been less information than usual, but Adruran had known better than to mention that during the short briefing he had received. He was not only a patient man, he wasn't stupid or suicidal either, and questioning his liege in front of others – as well as alone – was both to a high degree.
No, he thought, taking up the whetstone once more, his hands beginning to twitch with inactivity again, he would let them look for that treasure all they wanted to.
He would only make sure that the Men of Dale didn't notice anything, and when the Lake-men had found what they were looking for, he would set the second phase of his lord's plan in motion. He liked that part a lot better too; it was far more sophisticated and subtler than relieving a group of would-be-adventurers of a treasure.
But he would only be able to do that if these incompetents finally found something, he thought grumpily. Eru, according to several people the leader of the Lake-men, a certain Gwemyr, knew where that accursed treasure was, or that was at last what he had been claiming!
While Adruran was still cursing the incompetence of the Lake-men and seriously considering if he shouldn't just go and offer them his men's help, the front flap of his tent was thrown to the side and Geran stepped in, brown eyes twinkling with amusement when he saw his captain sharpen his sword yet again. The older man had been doing little else for more than a day now.
"Sir!" he said, eyes fixed at a spot behind above his superior's right shoulder.
The other looked up unwillingly, brushing back a strand of brown hair.
"What, Geran? And don't ask me if you may hunt a dwarf again, my answer stands!"
The younger man actually blushed a little. He had indeed asked his captain for permission. He was a hunter at heart, and had hunted everything possible in this part of the world, from deer, bears and orcs to men. In his opinion there was nothing more exciting and more rewarding than hunting men, for it posed only a real challenge for a hunter when the prey could fight back. The fact that there were dwarves here was a great temptation for him, since they were said to be brave, cunning and very hard to kill despite their relative shortness.
Ah well, he thought, he would get his chance. One of these days he would be able to able to add a dwarven axe to his trophy collection. Perhaps not now, but he would, one day…
"No, sir," he said, bowing his head and averting his eyes. "Hanar has just arrived. He reached Dale yesterday evening and came here as soon as he was able. His horse apparently began to founder a few days ago, so that the journey took him almost twice as long."
"Hanar?" Adruran asked, a cold knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "He came alone?"
"Yes, sir," Geran stated. "He said Lomar stayed behind. He didn't say why."
Adruran resisted the urge to fling the whetstone against the canvas and returned his blade to its sheath. Wonderful, just when everything was going according to plan for a change. He had unambiguously stated that the two of them should stay in Lake-town, and if Hanar was here now, that could mean only one thing: Trouble.
"Send him in," the brown haired man growled and glared darkly at the young man. "He'd better have a good explanation for this, or I will make sure he regrets having ever been born!"
The younger man nodded and stepped out of the tent, only to reappear a second later with another man that looked rather exhausted. He inclined his head to his captain.
"Sir."
"There'd better be a good reason for this, Hanar," Adruran said in a low, menacing voice. "I thought my orders had been clear."
"Yes, sir, they were," the man nodded, meeting the other man's eyes evenly. "But believe me, you'll want to hear this. There is trouble brewing, sir."
"I thought as much," his superior said testily, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. Patience, he reminded himself, he needed patience…
The other man apparently recognised his captain's tone of voice, for he quickly swallowed and continued.
"A week ago a group came to Esgaroth, and they started asking questions about the good Master Gwemyr and his friends. One of them was a ranger, and Lomar and I decided to have a little chat with him."
"You did what?" Adruran asked in a dangerously low voice. Valar, they couldn't have been that stupid, could they? "A ranger? Are you insane?"
"He was still young," the other man tried to justify their actions. "We thought that he would talk the soonest. Lomar stayed behind to finish the interrogation, because it took longer than we had expected. As you once said, sir, them rangers are tough."
"Talk the soonest?" Adruran repeated unbelievingly. "There is only one kind I can think of that is as stubborn as rangers, and that is…" He fell silent and gulped, the knot in his stomach turning into ice all of the sudden. "Elves."
Hanar grinned, relieved that his captain was suitably impressed.
"Yes, sir. There were two with him, and who knows how many were waiting in the woods."
Adruran closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Damn it, damn it, damn it … why elves? This was simply not fair! If there was a guarantee for disaster, it was elves. Everything connected to that accursed race was more trouble than it was worth, far more trouble…
He opened his eyes again, listening to the chirping of the crickets outside of the tent.
"Where is Lomar then? If your horse was foundering, why hasn't he caught up with you? Even with a ranger it shouldn't take much longer than two days, especially not when he was still young. Especially not with Lomar."
He gave Geran a dark look which the youth didn't even seem to notice. Lomar was one of the younger man's friends and shared his disputable hobbies.
Hanar shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know, sir. Perhaps the elves got him. I don't know."
Adruran pointed at a crude stool in front of his camp bed.
"Sit and tell me everything in the right order. Slowly."
The other man obeyed and began to tell his captain all he knew, shooting the younger man that still stood behind him a curious look after a while.
Geran however wasn't paying the words of his companions any attention whatsoever, his whole thinking concentrated on one word: Elves. At least two of the fair folk, he thought almost dreamily, and they were in all likelihood coming here. Elves – that was a prey he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. The mere thought of him being able to hunt an elf was causing small shivers of anticipation to run down his spine. Who needed dwarves when there were elves coming right here?
Geran leaned back against a tent pole, a thin smile playing about his lips. This whole mission had just got a whole lot more interesting.
TBC...
ada - father (daddy)
mellonamin - my friend
Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome (Quenya) - No, no, father, do not come here!
Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat (Quenya) - I am lost in darkness, my (two) brothers
Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna (Quenya) - No, father ... I will not find my way back to you
Útúla, atar (Quenya) - Do not come, father
*shivers* Uh-oh, they're going to get into trouble! Mhahahahaha! *sighs tiredly* See? My alter ego's back. Marbienl and her pet spider dragged her back from her vacation spot - don't ask me how they found out where she was. So, now she's back and Celylith's in trouble, since I am writing chapter 18 right now... *shrugs* Poor elf. Okay, next chapter we have questions concerning sloths and bears, see more of Adruran and his Merry Men, and the three arrive in Dale. All that and more you'll get in the next post, and reviews really help! So - review? Please??
Additional A/N:
Halo - *g* I knew I should have changed the chapter title... Too late now, I guess... *evil grin* I didn't do it on purpose, really! And if I kill Celylith there will be deathly trouble? That should be interesting! You know, you have just given me another reason to kill the dear elf...
Alilacia - As I said, thanks SO MUCH for the idea of the 'Fox' and friends as pirates! I fell off my chair laughing, really, I did! 'Ar, me mateys...' ... *giggles* And no, the weather will go from sunny to cloudy the exact moment I exit my plane. Trust me, it's always like that. Oh, and Celylith and Legolas have been friends for two *millennia*, not centuries, which makes the whole thing even worse, of course... *g* 'WhichCell weekly'? That is a really good magazine! Really, I've been reading it ever since I started writing - just in case Thranduil ever gets a hold of me... *g* LOL, an "un-named-yet-really-close-and-frozen-over-waterfall (UYRCAFOW for short)"??? ROTFL, really, that was just too funny... *g* And I did never say that Celylith dies, okay? Don't say that so loudly, Zam might hear us - it is only a possibility, alright? And I will think about handing out clones if I kill him, okay? Then all the Nólads out there would have some company... *g*
Mouse - Yeah, to be honest, it was a rather pathetic thing to do, but really: Would you want to face Thranduil dragging a half-dead ranger behind? I certainly wouldn't ... but Anardir's to be pitied, that's true. Poor elfsie. *huggles him* Oh, that was an Aussie? So sorry, but the movie was still bad. *shrugs* Hey, it had Nick Nolte who is quite a good actor himself, and it didn't save anything either...
Firniswin - You just felt like laughing? Then please do, since laughing is a very healthy thing to do - or so I've heard... *g* I'm not good at betting either - one of the reasons why I never do it, I guess... I mean, it's a 50-50 chance and I still lose every time! That's virtually impossible! *shrugs* That's life - my life, that is...
XsilicaX - You noticed the shirtless bit? *shakes head* Not even _I_ thought of that! But he was bandaged, so it doesn't really count, huh? *evil grin* Wow, a single line can do that to you? Now, that is interesting... And of course Celylith is betting, evil elf that he is - he deserves death, don't you think? J/k!!! Really! *runs off to escape Cathy's wrath* And I promise I'll think of Glor - he could get hurt trying to protect the twins or Estel, what do you think?
TrinityTheSheDevil - Hmm, Thranduil ... throw a fit? Scream at the messenger? Something like that, I think... *sighs* Johnny Depp... I love Johnny Depp, he is just perfect, really.... And yes, rub it in, 'The Hulk' was really bad. It wasn't even funny! *grrrr* Hidalgo? I know that name, but what is that again?
TigerLily713 - Yeah well, many people don't agree with the Thranduil-Elrond-friendship, and technically speaking, they're right. I mean, they probably never were great friends or anything, but I couldn't let Elrond stay there for month and let them hate each other, could I? And you're right, Legolas really does like mothering him - as does Aragorn, mothering Legolas, I mean... Thanks for all your nice compliments!
Coreinha - *grabs Celylith* Don't put him in your pocket! He will suffocate in there and then it will all be YOUR fault, not mine! Yesss, precioussss, your faultsss... *g* Well, let's say, they will survive this fic as well - but once again, barely... *evil laugh* With Celylith it's another thing so he still might die, my alter ego's back, after all... *g*
Imbefaniel - Playing catch with a bottle? That does sound insane, I agree... *g* Sure you can place a bet! I just need a dagger of something similar from you and you can place your bet, go ahead... *g* *blinks* You pushed Legolas into your closet? What is it with you guys and closets? Zam and Celylith, you and Legolas... Really! *snickers* And no! His hair has to remain perfect, of course!
Reginabean - Kids ALWAYS have energy - I have no idea where they take it from! Really, it's scary - they are little demons, that's the only explanation! Thranduil's reaction? I don't know, there's really no way to put in here without interrupting the 'flow' of the story, but perhaps I can put it in a flashback in the end. We'll see. *sighs* You too? I merely said that I _might_ kill him - there is that persistent voice in my head telling me to... *g* And I'm still sorry about Nólad, really!
Amelie - Oh, you have a good reason why they shouldn't die? Let's hear it then! If I killled them, I would have no-one left to torture in the next story? That's your reason? Okay, I'll admit that you're right about Aragorn and Legolas, since they are, well, irreplacable, but I could kill Celylith and think of a new elven sidekick... *evil grin* I agree with you that there ARE some readers that would be more than willing to hurt me if I should kill any of them, so be assured that I will think about it long and hard. The review wasn't useless! It was fun! Thanks! *huggles her*
Carrie - 'Anardir, tell my father that we will be getting into trouble and will most likely not be in one piece when we get back home...' LOL! Well, it's the truth, but just a tiny little bit stupid, huh? But hey, that's Legolas we're talking about... *evil grin* Hey! *huggles Anardir* He's not a wacko elf! I might need him in future stories, so don't hurt him! *sobs* I am losing my touch? AM I?? AM I REALLY??? *breaks down sobbing* Noooooo.... *wipes away tears* Okay, I can only restore my reputation by KILLING Celylith, now can I? Mahahahaha! I really hope you had fun in NYC! Thanks for reviewing, and your story rocks! I will review as soon as I can, promise! *huggles Carrie*
Gwyn - *points at dictionary* See for yourself! ...READER: Person, male or female, also known as -Loonie. Can react highly unpredictable when reading -Cliffhangers. Sometimes the readers join together in packs, in this form very dangerous... See? I told you so! You like me!! *huggles Gwyn* Thank you! I knew you liked me! I'm a nice person, after all! *g* About the cliffies: REAL cliffies - the things _I_ call cliffies, aren't in the next few chapters, I'm afraid, I am too busy explaining things. But a few minor cliffies are coming up, I think, so don't worry.
Firnsarnien - Great you liked the no-cliffy bit! I thought I should give you some time to recover before the next cliffies, huh? And I do pity Celylith, really, he should have listened to Legolas and returned to Mirkwood... Now it's too late, stupid elfsie... *g* You have been traumatised for life by Nólad's death? Well, I am very sorry about that, really, because I really liked him, and I just said that I _might_ kill him, okay? It's just a possibility... 'Near drowming in a tup of honey'? well, I actually think death is better than that! *g* You would lynch me? You would? Well, you'd have to get past my warg, the nazgûl and a balrog first...
Eva - Oh, yes, the relationship between Imladris and Mirkwood.... Thranduil: Ah, my lord Elrond, here is your son... *shoves bandaged Aragorn into his direction* Elrond: What? I can't even see him for all the bandages! What happened? Thranduil: Oh, you know, the usual ... Mercenaries, treasure hunters, frozen lakes, nightmares... Elrond: Enough! This means WAR!!! *giggles* That'd be really bad, huh? Your wargs, from a gentleman who cackles a lot? Hmm, who could that be? But I have my own warg, Fred sr., and Stan the balrog, and the Nazgûl, of course... *evil grin*
A Person - *g* But I love idle threats! Well, I wouldn't like you to fall into depression or anything, now would I? Besides, I really don't want a pancake in my eye (A pancake? Are you mad? *g*), so here's the next bit! Thanks for your reviews!
Fliewatuet - *nods* Yes, it's a stupid idea, kind of, but then again, it's Aragorn and Legolas we are talking about! All their ideas are stupid! As I said, I don't know yet if I can put the Anardir/Thranduil confrontation (And the '/' between the two names is just coincidental, really!) in, right now I can't think of a way that wouldn't interrupt the 'flow' of the story. Perhaps a flashback in the end? I'll see what I can do. Well, and about the chapters: The secret is that I always am a few chapters ahead, if you know what I mean. Right now I'm writing chapter 18, so even if I hadn't had time to write much in a week, I can still update. Usually I need three-four days for a chapter, so that helps too... *g*
Strider's Girl - *blushes* Well, thank you! It's great you like the stories! And the plot bunnies? Well, most of them just appear out of nowhere. They pop up quite frequently in college during especially boring lectures though, there's something in those classrooms that just inspires me to hurt someone, I guess... *g* Thanks for your review!
Lady Sandrilene - Well, you have changed your name! I don't know what it means, but it sounds good! Yeah, and Aragorn _is_ talking about them, the poor boy... *huggles the ranger* His life is not easy, is it? No, I suppose not, with all the FF writers waiting to hurt him... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!
CrazyLOTRfan - Yeah, apparently all the elves he knows want to mother him! Must be connected to his Innocent-little-Estel-look... *g* Hah! You don't think that I ONLY have a balrog, now do you? I mean, yes, there is Stan, but I have Fred Sr., a vicious warg Miki has given me, and the Nazgûl of course - they live in my bathroom... *g* Stop pushing me! *points at cinema* It's not here yet! Stop rubbing it in, will you? Jeez, Canadians... *g* J/k! Really!
Nikara - *nods* Yup, they will. I mean, he just seems to attract that kind of treatment, doesn't he? *huggles her baby ranger* Poor boy! And I could never write a torture scene much longer than this, I HATE writing them! Really! Angst in this chapter? Whatever gave you that idea, my friend? I never write angst, you should know that... *g* Great I managed to surprise you! I had feared the treasure aspect would be to obvious... *huggles her* Thanks for the reviews!
Arwen-Evenstar - *grins evilly* Yeah, I don't envy Anardir either... Having to tell Thranduil that his son has just left on a stupid, suicidal mission... *shakes head* That doesn't sound like fun, no, precioussss.... *g* Great you liked the chapter!
Maranwe - Uh, you have to wait so long, because ... because they need three days to get to Dale! That's it! And because I almost forgot about it, that's why... *hangs head* No internet till Tuesday? That's horrible, poor you! *hugs her* Truly a horryfying experience.. Well, my chapters delight in being longer than I want them to be! I mean, I am aiming for 12 or 13 pages, and each time they turn out to be 15-16 pages! We hatesss them, preciousss... Thanks so much for your review!
Aron - *g* I'm afraid they can't hear you - but you're right, of course... They SHOULD run, as fast as they can, but they're stupid, aren't they? So, in a way the deserve what they get! So I should just torture/injure him? Well, okay, I will think about it... Great you like the story so far! Thanks for reviewing!
Marbienl - *blushes* Great you like them, Marbienl, really ... even though I would never go as far as comparing them to C&S... Celylith being like a flame? Well, I haven't really seen it like this before, but I guess it's a possibility, sorry... Well, no, I didn't like Lomar much, but I kinda like Adruran. I don't know what to do with him either... You're an elf then? Well, I'm just a normal person, I guess ... you know, I'm not obsessed THAT way. I love the books and the movies and am learning Sindarin and Quenya and the History of Middle-earth, but I don't imagine being whatever or watch movies just because one of the actors was in it years ago. It's a kind of obsession as well, but a rather rational one, I think. Break someone's thumbs? Ah well, I'll think about it ... perhaps the next fic... Yes, Aragorn is escaping healers quite a lot, isn't he? Well, that's just what I would do, so... And DAMN YOU for bringing her alter ego back! She has lots of new ideas and evil things to do to our fav. elves and ranger - all YOUR fault! Yes, nightmares are coming up now, thanks a lot for your long review!
Seveawen - Oh, you're getting married? I hope I'm invited, I mean it was _me_ who brought the two of you together after all! I'm sure you will live long and prosper... *g* Uhm, I'm giving you ideas? So sorry about that - I can't help myself! It's my evil nature, I guess... *g* You counted? 44 times? Really? Wow, that's a lot, I never knew I said such things so often... Hope you friend gets better soon! Thanks for reviewing!
Alexa - *sighs* I know, it's getting really long... Not that that's a bad thing, of course, I LOVE every single review, but I think I will have to cut it back some in the near future. Either that or I'll need an extra day to get the chapters ready.... We'll see... *shrugs* Well, define 'action'?! The next few chapters are rather quiet, I think, it's because a lot needs to be prepared and explained, so it's not that much action, no... Sorry. Uh, you're right, I guess. I have never seen it that way, that I would kill Legolas as well ... but no, he could go to Valinor to heal - j/k! Really! And you're right, I wouldn't get as many reviews - we can't have that! *g*
Shadow Warrior - *huggles her* And I thank you for that! A short review is much better than no review! And RL can be a real b**** sometimes, I agree... Thanks for reviewing!
Stacee Phelps - See? You reviewed, and a day later the chapter's here! It really works, you see? *g* And NO, it was NOT a cliffy! This one isn't either, even though I will admit that it's a bit more cliffy-like than the last. But still no cliffy. *g*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - 'Don't kill Celylith because he's a smart, responsible one'? LOL, I will surely tell him that, even though Aragorn and Legolas might disagree... But as I said, I will think about it, okay? Thanks for all your reviews!
LeggyLover 03 - The sequel ... hm, I think after I've finished this one, huh? *runs off to escape angry reader* Yeah, I know that you knew that... To answer the question: I don't know yet. Probably sometime in October, I guess.... And I really hate to disappoint you, but I never said there was going to be any Elrond engst in the sequel - you know why? Because he probably isn't even going to be in it. That's logical, hmm? Sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that.
Alisha - Yeah, someone is thinking in the group - but no-one is listening to him! *g* And you're right, Celylith would be a lot safer in Mirkwood, to be honest, that was what I had been planning for him in the beginning. But somehow I got bitten by that plotbunny and then... *blushes* Great you like the comments. It's just my wicked, odd sense of humour, I guess... *broad grin* I'm glad someone like that sadistic mass murderer scene, I was snickering myself when I wrote it. And Celylith can't come and make you better right now - he either is in Zam's closet or in Cor's pocket. I dunno why they keep doing that, really, the poor elf... *huggles her* I loved the review! Thanks so much, and I hope I didn't let you wait too long!
Aratfeniel - Who _doesn't_ like to talk like Gollum, precioussss? Whossss doessssn't? *g* See, you have company. If you read my A/N you will soon see that that happens quite a lot to me as well... 3 weeks and no computer? The horror! That is against human rights or something... *g* And you thought that the wargs were cute? Really, there I have to agree with your friends: You're insane. But the dragon thingies the Nazgûl rode, THEY were cute! *g* It's great that you're still reading this - thanks a lot! *huggles her*
Well, as you can see, I have decided to put the names in bold letters so you would find your replies more quickly! I love all my reviewers, so the least I can do is make things easier for you! *huggles all reviewers* Thanks so much for your support!
A/N:
Yeah, you're right, even the _characters_ have figured out that they will end up in serious trouble - if even THEY get it, it must be bad, huh? *evil grin* But don't worry, that's still a few chapters away...
I would love (hm, okay, make that 'like', I'm not looking forward to it _that_ much) to see "Pirates of the Caribbean" (Oh, and thank you VERY MUCH for that mental image, Alilacia! It _really_ helped me!! *mock glares at her*), but unfortunately, it won't come out here for at least three more weeks. We're a month behind almost all the time - fortunately not with LOTR! I would have _died_ if I'd had to wait for another four weeks! *winces at mere thought*
I don't know yet if the poor messenger-elf, Anardir, is making another appearance in this story, perhaps in the very end. I could put him in the next story though, he could take Celylith's place ... j/k!! Really! I haven't decided yet what to do with him, calm down, and whatever happens to him will happen in chapter 18, no sooner. So you have to wait, sorry. *g*
Fine, here's the next bit now, and as promised Aragorn finally talks about his nightmares. *sighs* Poor, reckless human... In addition to that, the three take their leave from Owaeran and family, and some old friends make a reappearance in the end. *g*
Oh, and usually I don't use song lyrics, but this whole chapter was written while listening to that particular song, and so I saw it fitting to put them in here. *shrugs* Won't happen so much more often, I think.
Enjoy and review, please!
Chapter 14
Wake me up inside,
Wake me up inside,
Call my name and save me from the dark,
Bid my blood to run,
Before I come undone,
Save me from the nothing I've become…
("Bring Me To Life", Evanescence)
The next morning came far too soon, and the whole house seemed to hum with activity while everybody ran around preparing the departure of the Master's guests. Bags with enough food and water to feed a company of six were provided, since Misien insisted that the poor "boys" needed the food urgently.
The horses were made ready, and the stable hands learned the hard way that elven horses did not enjoy being cooped up for a week. Especially the "demon", as the men had quickly dubbed Rashwe – much to Aragorn's amusement – was causing trouble, rolling his eyes and lashing out at everyone who tried to come near him until the stable hands gave up and sent for Legolas in the hope that the horse would calm down once its master was near.
Five minutes after Legolas had left for the stables, mumbling under his breath about the incompetence of humans when it came to horses – not a very fair claim since the men didn't even have the means to calm the horse for they didn't speak Elvish – Aragorn was ready to leave.
Granted, it had taken him about five minutes longer than usual to get ready, but he blamed that on his muscles that were already stiff from spending so much time in a bed, an activity, or rather non-activity that always resulted in the stiffness of his whole body. There was the fact that putting on his shirt and tunic had proven to be rather painful, let alone fastening his cloak at his neck, but that was a small matter, of course.
Now however, he was ready and more than eager to escape his room. The young ranger could hardly wait to leave the house and get out of this town, as fascinating as Lake-town might be, he had lost quite a lot of his initial enthusiasm for the settlement.
He girded his weaponbelt, took up the remaining bags and slowly made his way downstairs, deciding that he really felt a lot better. His head seemed to have calmed down some, at least up to the point where he could move it around without it threatening to explode. The burns were still painful of course, but they were healing and not nearly as bad as they had been, and the cracked rib was nothing he hadn't experienced before.
All in all, he was fine. He grimaced inwardly. His father would have given him the look at this point, dragged him back to his bedroom and left the twins behind to guard him while he went making one of his infamous teas, probably mumbling under his breath about the irresponsibility of youth and the fact that his son's definition of the word 'fine' needed to be addressed at one point or another.
'Fortunately,' he thought, walking down the corridors and placing his bags next to the others, 'Ada is not here.'
Legolas could be just as bad though, especially if he blamed himself, and the elven prince did that every time he was injured, no matter how obvious it was that he was not at fault. And it had not been his elven friend's fault, he shook his head slightly, it had been his own. He had acted without thinking, once again.
Elladan was right, one of these days he would get himself killed that way. His oldest brother always claimed that he was too impatient, too reckless and too careless with his life.
And perhaps he was even right in that assessment, for sometimes the young ranger took risks a normal human never would have, but he didn't even think twice about them since he had grown up with the elves who were naturally stronger, more graceful, faster and more agile than men.
'And who are also very hard to kill,' a voice inside his head stated. 'Unlike you.'
The young man growled in annoyance. That was another thing he had to talk about with his father; this little voice in his head was getting more and more persistent. But then again, if he told his father, Elrond would probably lock him in his room and get Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn and every other wise person he could think of to make sure that he was not falling under the influence of some kind of evil.
"…you alright?"
A soft elven voice interrupted this particular train of thought, and Aragorn looked up to look into the face of Celylith who had stopped where he had been taking up some bags to load them onto the horses, studying him in concern.
"Yes," he quickly nodded. He certainly wouldn't tell the silver haired elf what he had been thinking about. "Yes, I am fine."
Celylith shot him an disbelieving look but shrugged after a second.
"Well, if you're fine you can help me load the horses."
Aragorn grinned and pointed accusingly at the elf, mock alarm on his face.
"Who are you and why are you looking like my friend? You can't be the same elf who wanted to drug me yesterday rather than let me take a walk!"
"Strider, I have no appeciation whatsoever for your odd sense of humour right now," the elf growled, pushing the human gently into the direction of the bags. "Now come and help me or we won't leave today at all."
"And we don't want that," the ranger nodded, taking up a few leather bags and stepping outside where the horses were waiting. While he was loading the animals with their baggage, he squinted slightly to help his eyes adjust to the harsh morning sun. The day was beautiful with blue sky and not a single cloud in sight, something that greatly pleased the ranger. No clouds meant no snow, and they already had more than enough of that.
When they had just loaded the last of the bags onto the horses, leaving only Legolas' baggage sitting next to the door, the elven prince appeared, trailed by his horse that looked around it innocently. The stable hands were standing at the doors of the stables that were located to the left of Owaeran's house, following the animal's movements with a mixture of relief and hate on their faces.
Legolas stopped his horse and began to load his bags onto the animal's back, and Aragorn stepped closer to the both of them, looking at the horse warily.
"Rashwe is enjoying this," he stated after a minute, looking the white horse in the eye. "I swear this animal thrives on chaos and fear."
He could have sworn he had seen a dangerous sparkle in the horse's eyes, but before he could look closer, Legolas' voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Estel! He does no such thing! Rashwe is an elven horse!"
"And your point is?" the young ranger questioned, carefully stepping away form the horse. "This elven horse tried to kill my brothers."
Legolas made a dismissive movement with his hand, stuffing the last of the provisions into his saddlebags.
"They exaggerate."
Aragorn gave Rashwe a long look.
"Somehow I doubt it."
Celylith laughed and motioned a servant to step closer and take the reins of the three horses while they made their way inside to say good-bye to Owaeran and his family.
"I'm afraid Strider's right, my lord. That horse is indeed rather … unusual."
Legolas glared darkly at his friend.
"Your pets are so much more common, aren't they, my friend?"
"At least my pets don't want to eat me or my frie…" the other elf began, and when he saw the raised eyebrows of his companions, he quickly added, "Never mind."
A second later they reached the large dining room that was brightly lit by the sunlight this time of day, the sunbeams dancing over the dark wooden boards and painting intricate patterns on the wood.
The three of them entered the room to find Owaeran, his wife, daughter and apprentice already present, all sitting at the table where the last remnants of the breakfast were just being cleared away by two servant girls. The men rose from their seats, looking at the three young beings expectantly.
"We are ready to leave, Master Owaeran," Legolas said, nodding his head politely to the two women who had remained seated. "In the name of the king I thank you all for your hospitality. Should you or any of your kin ever need the help of the elves of Mirkwood, do not hesitate to ask and you shall have it. We are in your debt."
Owaeran gave a slight bow, and Misien stood up, walking around the table.
"Thank you, Prince Legolas," she said, noting the surprised expression on the males' faces with a fine smile. "Yes, I know that you are the prince, and I have for some time now. I may not travel to Mirkwood all the time, but I am not stupid." She smiled at the two elves and the ranger, a stern expression on her face. "Do be careful, all of you. Having the two of you brought here wounded was something I had never wished to see. And you, my dear," she turned to Aragorn who looked back at her, eyes wide, "You make sure that the two of them eat enough. They are far too thin!"
The young man stared at her for a second, noticing that Seveawen who sat behind her mother at the table was burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.
"Uhm, yes, my lady," he said, ignoring the frozen faces of his elven companions. "You are right. I will make sure that they do."
The three gave another bow to the two ladies and made their way out of the room, followed by Seobryn and Owaeran who were escorting them to the front door. While Celylith and Aragorn were saying good-bye to the trader, Legolas pulled Seobryn a little to the side.
"Here," he said, smiling at the slightly startled face of the boy and handing him a small, folded piece of paper, "This is another poem your lady would like, I think. Just remember what I told you about not staring at her … well, you know, just don't stare at her too openly, most maidens find that uncomfortable."
Seobryn began to stammer his thanks, but Legolas brushed it aside with a wave of his hand.
"No thanks is needed, Master Human. I am in your debt, more deeply than I could ever repay you. You saved Estel's life a few months back, and that is something I will never forget. But," he looked at the boy seriously, "Do not tell him about this. Ever. Understood?"
The boy nodded, brushing back a strand of his light brown hair.
"Understood, your Highness. Thank you for all your help."
"Oh," Legolas muttered wryly as they were walking up to the others, "It was my pleasure."
The three of them took the reins of their horses, ready to leave behind the house they had spent the past week in, when Owaeran stepped in front of them, looking at them with almost beseeching eyes.
"Please," he began, looking at them in turn, "I know I cannot change your minds now, and I thank you from the bottom of my very heart that you are doing this to help my brother and his friends, but please, I beg you, be cautious! I do not want to see anyone else hurt because of my brother's actions, and I know he wouldn't want that either."
Aragorn nodded at the older man, smiling slightly.
"We will be, Master Owaeran. With Elbereth's help we will return shortly, with your brother and his friends. Thank you for your hospitality."
The three nodded their heads at the trader and Seobryn who stood next to his employer, staring at them with disapproving eyes. Aragorn winked at the younger man, eyes twinkling.
"Take care, Seobryn. Do not get yourself into trouble."
"I, Estel?" the boy lifted an amused eyebrow as he watched his friend and the elves slowly walk down the rather crowded catwalk, each of them leading his horse. "That does sound rather strange, coming from you!"
The ranger acted as if he hadn't heard that last remark and merely gave a last wave before they disappeared round a corner and passed out of sight.
To get out of Lake-town proved to be rather difficult, for it was a market day and there were at least twice as many people crowding the streets and narrow catwalks. After more than an hour they had finally managed to get off the wooden islands, and, passing the guards that were posted at the head of the large wooden bridge that led to the western shore of the Long Lake, they set foot on solid ground and mounted their horses, directing them northwards, into the direction of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain in whose shadow lay the valley of Dale.
"Well," Celylith said as they were slowly riding northwards towards the ferry that would take them across the already half-frozen Forest River, "I have to admit that this visit wasn't … quite as I had imagined it."
"Really?" Legolas asked ironically, looking at his friend in mock surprise. "You expected something different?"
"No," the silver haired elf admitted, smiling ruefully at his prince and the ranger, "No, not really. But one can hope."
"Yes," Aragorn agreed and returned the smile as he carefully rotated his left shoulder, ckecking the movement hindered by the bandages under his clothes, "You are right, mellonamin. One can always hope."
Softly, as if to himself, he added,
"It just doesn't help any, that's all."
The two elves traded a concerned glance, and Legolas gave the Long Lake a last look, this time not at all captivated by the beauty of the shimmering waters. If anything, the lake looked evil and menacing in his eyes, the place of too many dark things that had happened in these past seven days.
Turning back to his solemn companions, he began to curse his decision to come to Esgaroth, and slowly he was asking himself if Celylith was right and they were getting into more trouble than they could handle.
"No," Aragorn muttered on the evening of the same day, eyeing a little biscuit-like thing he held in his hand suspiciously, as if expecting it to grow wings and fly away. "No, you must be wrong, Legolas."
"He isn't," Celylith protested, nibbling at his own biscuit with an expression of disgust on his face. "It is really food."
"That is a matter of opinion," the young ranger said dryly, softly poking his biscuit.
Legolas laughed loudly, throwing another log into the fire.
"Stop complaining, you two. That is cram, it is something like the Lake-men's lembas."
"It doesn't taste like lembas though," the other elf complained. "In fact, it tastes…"
"…like sawdust baked in an oven for a few years," Aragorn finished Celylith's sentence, looking at his piece of cram quizzically. "Does one of you have a hammer? I don't think my human teeth will be able to cope with that … cram."
The elven prince grinned, remembering his own reaction when he had first seen a piece of cram. It was the Lake-men's waybread, the kind of food they took on long journeys. It had many beneficial characteristics, for example was supposed to keep good indefinitely and to be incredibly sustaining, but being an enjoyable food was not one of them, nor had it ever been intended to, Legolas suspected.
"Here," he tossed both of them a packet with dried fruit and meat, "If you two are too picky to eat what our hosts have so graciously given us, then have some of these."
The young ranger and the silver haired elf traded a dark look before they both took their cram and stuffed it into their mouths in one piece. After chewing for about ten minutes, Aragorn finally managed to swallow the last bit of the biscuit and quickly grabbed a waterskin, taking a hasty gulp of the cool liquid.
"Ilúvatar!" he gasped, grimacing slightly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that the dear Master Owaeran and his wife are trying to kill us!"
"Poison," Celylith nodded grimly, snatching Aragorn's waterskin and taking a sip himself. "I don't know what they're hoping to accomplish, but this counts as poisoning in my opinion."
Legolas laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. These two were sometimes impossible.
"You will get used to it," he said nonchalantly, his hands playing with the string of his bow.
"Oh, of course I will," the young ranger muttered under his breath, loud enough for his elven friends to understand his words. "In a lifetime or two."
"Come now, Estel," Legolas laughed, an evil gleam in his eyes. "It is…"
"If you don't want to lose a limb or two, then don't say 'It is good for you'," the dark haired man advised, glaring darkly at the elven prince.
"But it is," Legolas grinned, quickly moving backwards when the human threw the rest of his cram into his direction. "Don't waste our food like that, ranger, do you want us to starve?"
"Hah!" Aragorn snorted, suppressing a yawn. "We will be there in two days, it would be no small feat indeed to starve in that period of time!"
"If I have learned one thing, it is that everything is possible when one is travelling with the two of you," Celylith interjected darkly. "Absolutely everything."
He ignored the scathing looks his two companions shot him and studied the obviously tired form of the young ranger closely.
"You are tired, Strider," he said added softly. "You should go to sleep, the tent is already pitched."
Legolas took a look at the face of his human friend and nodded, silencing him with a stern look.
"He is right, Aragorn. Go to sleep, we will keep watch tonight."
"I am no child!" the dark haired ranger protested as he was pushed into the direction of the small tent they had pitched in the shadow of some tall trees at the edge of the small glade they had chosen for their campsite. "I am more than capable of taking my part of the watches!"
"Of course you are," Legolas soothed his friend. "But you are injured, in pain and very tired, and don't try to deny it. You need your sleep tonight, let us worry about the watches."
Aragorn gave both of them a dark glare before he disappeared into his tent, forcefully slapping the canvas to the side and mumbling under his breath about over-protective, irritating elves.
Grinning slightly at each other, the two elves settled down next to the fire, listening to the sounds of the night all around them. Sometime around midnight they decided to count all the times they had returned to the palace of Legolas' father injured in one way or another, but after half an hour they gave up, deciding that that activity would take them the rest of the night.
"But you surely do remember the one time we came back after that encounter with the mountain trolls! Eru, rarely have I seen your father that angry!" Celylith chortled, crumbling another piece of cram between his fingers. A while ago he had decided that he was doing all of them a favour if he destroyed this poor excuse for a waybread.
"Or I yours, if I remember correctly," Legolas countered, smiling in recollection of that rather eventful day. "That was the year he sent you to your mother's family in Lothlórien to prevent you from getting yourself into trouble, wasn't it?" When his silver haired friend nodded, he added with a grin, "Not that it really helped, but…"
"That wasn't my fault!" the other elf protested, looking at his friend with innocent eyes. "Rúmil and his friends insisted that it was a good idea!"
"Of course," the fair haired elf grinned. "These things are never your fault, forgive me…"
A small, muttering sound could be heard behind them, and the two elves whirled around, looking at the small tent and taking in their surroundings with keen eyes. The sound could be heard again, and Legolas was able to make out words, first in Sindarin, but then the speaker seemed to settle for Quenya.
"Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome!"
Legolas looked at Celylith, silver-blue eyes hard and determined.
"It is enough," he said, narrowing his eyes in concern. "His stubbornness has gone far enough now!"
The other elf only nodded, took up his bow and looked at his companion.
"I will go. Call if you need me, I will hear you."
With a thin smile at the elven prince Celylith turned and disappeared between the trees, giving the two friends the privacy they needed. Legolas began to quickly walk up to the small tent, wincing when he heard the pained voice of his human friend call out again for his father in the ancient tongue of the High Elves. At any other time he would have accredited the man for speaking that beautiful language flawlessly and without a detectable accent, but such thoughts were quickly driven from his mind when he heard the agonised, pleading note in his friend's voice.
He pulled the front flap of the tent aside and, ducking his head, stepped into the dark space, his elven eyes effortlessly piercing the blackness and fixing on the distressed form of his sleeping friend that was throwing his head from side to side, silver tears gleaming on his cheeks in the sparse moonlight.
Legolas knelt down next the young man and reached out to calm him, but at his touch Aragorn jerked away harshly, crying out in his sleep and almost hitting the elf in the face.
"Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat … Lá!"
The elven prince shook his head and tried gently to catch the young man's flailing arms, doing his best to restrain the human and to free him of his nightmares at the same time.
"Aragorn!" he called loudly, carefully grasping his left wrist, pressing it down and trying to harm the still healing left side of Aragorn's body as little as possible. "Aragorn! Wake up! Come back to me, your brothers are safe! Estel!"
The young ranger didn't seem to hear him for he kept struggling against the hands that held him down, trying to escape the dark shadows that haunted his dream, still speaking in the language that the Noldor had used when they returned from Valinor in pursuit of Melkor who had stolen the Silmarils and brought them to Middle-Earth.
"Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna! Útúla, atar…"
Legolas tightened his grip on his friend, shaking him slightly now.
"Estel! Wake! This is but a dream, the darkness cannot harm you now! You found your way back! Now find your way back here as well! Wake up, please, Aragorn!"
Suddenly, the young human's eyes shot open, and when they took in the figure crouching next to him, he renewed his struggles to escape, obviously not recognising his friend. The elven prince gently pressed the man back down, talking to him quietly in Elvish until the silver eyes showed some recognition.
"L-Legolas?" he asked shakily, blinking up at the elf in the near complete darkness of the tent. "What…"
"You had a nightmare," Legolas said simply, slowly letting go of the young ranger's wrists. "A bad one. You called for your father and your brothers, in Quenya."
"Quenya?" Aragorn muttered as he sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. In that position, with the tousled hair and drying tear tracks on his cheeks he looked about ten years old, Legolas decided inwardly.
"Oh yes, I thought about one of ada's favourite poems right before I went to sleep, something rather long and incredibly boring about the two trees and their light – or something like that," the ranger explained quietly, forcefully suppressing the shudders that raced through his body and trying to ignore the dull ache of the left side of his chest. "It's in Quenya, I was probably still thinking in that language when I was dreaming." He looked at the elven prince, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for waking me."
Legolas slowly sat back, giving the ranger some space. The pleading expression in his human friend's eyes begged him not to ask, not to force him to tell him what he had seen in his dreams, but the elf had had enough. Aragorn needed to talk about these nightmares which seemed only to have worsened since the last time.
'And can you blame him?' a voice inside his head asked.
"Aragorn," Legolas began softly, studying the young man's face intently who was staring into nothing with vacant eyes. "You must tell someone about this. Please, let me help you."
The dark haired human raised his head and looked at the elf.
"Please, Legolas … don't ask me to…"
"Yes, I do!" the elven prince countered, eyes blazing in the darkness. "I see how much these dreams torment you, I see how you become thinner and paler every day because you do not sleep enough! I see that you are hurting and you expect me to do nothing?"
"Legolas…" Aragorn looked at his elven friend beseechingly. "I cannot tell you."
"Why?" the elven prince asked, his patience finally spent. He narrowed his eyes, his tone of voice sharper than he actually wanted it to be. "Why not? Tell me! Why didn't you want your father to come and help you? What is it that torments you so in your sleep?"
The human slowly closed his eyes and hung his head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For a few minutes it was silent, and when Legolas was just about to apologise for his harsh words, Aragorn raised his head again, staring at the face of his friend that was shrouded in darkness.
"Because he dies," he whispered softly, a desperate, heart-wrenching sound. "I don't want Elrond to come because he dies, night after night; every night." He fell silent and averted his eyes. "As do you and sometimes my brothers."
Legolas swallowed, feeling as if someone had just knocked him over the head with a large, metal-plated club. And right now, he even thought he'd deserve it.
The young ranger looked at him with tears in his grey eyes.
"You want to know what it is I see? I see you die, over and over again, and one death is worse than the last." Two tears fell from his eyes and slowly began to make their way down his cheeks. Aragorn stared at the dark canvas in front of him, eyes wide and unseeing. "They all start the same way. I am back in that cave in Eskadol where you found me, back in the darkness and it is closing in on me, growing, intensifying, coming closer. It is suffocating me, draping itself over me like a dark blanket. I am drowning in that blackness and then, when I am sure that it will swallow me whole, everything shifts and I am no longer alone."
He clenched his jaw slightly before he continued.
"Donyc is there, and sometimes Cornallar, and now that man from the warehouse, Lomar. They are laughing at me and taunting me and my weakness, and then…" Legolas needn't be told that at this point Aragorn's memories emerged, memories of what those men and the elf had done to him a few months ago.
The young ranger bowed his head and refused to meet his friend's gaze.
"But that's not what makes me lose control. After some time, they stop and my father will suddenly be there, or you, or the twins. They start taunting me again, telling me that I am useless and not strong enough to help you, and they're right! I watch you die, every night I close my eyes I see these pictures! They torture you to death and there is nothing I can do to stop it, nothing!"
Aragorn looked up again, self-accusation shining in his eyes now.
"I am helpless! Helpless as I was when Donyc took you captive, helpless as I was when Cornallar lured ada right into his trap, helpless as I was in that warehouse! I watch you and Elrond die again and again, and I know that it is because I am too weak to help you!"
"It is only a dream, Estel," Legolas tried to soothe the man, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "It is not real, it never happened. You are not weak…"
"Oh, am I not?" Aragorn's head snapped around and he swatted at Legolas' hand. "Then why couldn't I stop them, in reality and in the dreams? I was powerless to do anything when Donyc was beating you back in that cave, just as I was powerless to defend myself against Addramyr in the end! Had Elladan and Elrohir not come, I would be dead now! If that is not weak, then what is it?"
Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head, berating himself for not having noticed before that this was what was bothering his friend. But he could understand the young ranger perfectly well, he just needed to imagine he would see his father and Aragorn die every night…
"It is called being trapped," he said softly, ignoring the human's attempts to evade him and grasping his chin, gently turning his head around until their eyes met. "You were trapped, Aragorn, and by no fault of yours. Do you think your brothers and me weak because we didn't come to your aid any sooner?"
Aragorn quickly shook his head.
"No, of course not, you couldn't…"
"Exactly," the elven prince smiled. "We couldn't, because we were trapped as well. We tried everything in our power to reach you. We tried, mellonamin, and that is the point. I know you fought them every step of the way, because you are too stubborn and thick-headed to do anything else. You tried, Aragorn, and that was all you could do. The odds were not in your favour, and hadn't you acted as you did, you would be dead now. You managed to keep Addramyr at bay long enough for your brothers to reach you. You aren't weak, and we are all safe."
Silver-blue eyes bore into grey ones, and Legolas added, emphasising every word,
"Your father is alive, and so are I and your brothers. You are strong, I know you are, my friend. You could never lose your way, because you carry your family always in your heart. They are always with you, Aragorn." He smiled at the human in front of him. "Do not let your enemies triumph in the end by letting yourself be consumed by this darkness. They are dead, and we are still alive, and that is all that matters."
Aragorn looked at him, looking for any signs that the elf was just saying this out of a sense of pity, and when he found one, he tentatively returned the smile. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Legolas was well over two thousand years old and – as he had insisted so many times – far wiser than he was.
"Thank you," he simply said, looking the other in the eye. "Thank you, Legolas."
The fair haired elf smiled broadly at the young human, noting with satisfaction that the turmoil in his friend's silver eyes began to die down.
"There is no need to thank me, Estel. That's what friends are for, isn't it?" He gently pressed the man back down, making a mental note to have a look at the burns in the morning. All this jolting just couldn't be good for the healing injuries. "Go back to sleep, reckless human. Do not let the darkness claim you again, and if it does, I will be here to help you fight it."
Aragorn allowed his friend to press him down on the sleeping mat, eyes closing on their own account as the mental and physical exhaustion once again began to catch up with him.
"You are there as well, you know," he mumbled, already on the brink of sleep.
"Where, Estel?" Legolas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Always with me," Aragorn answered sleepily. "You are the voice yelling 'Look out, idiot!'."
The blonde elf grinned.
"Well, someone has to, don't you think? You are far too careless as it is; we will have to have a talk about that tomorrow."
The ranger didn't answer, and Legolas saw with satisfaction that he was asleep once again, looking more relaxed than he had seen him in weeks.
The elven prince smiled and moved over to the tent's entrance, pulling the front flap to the side to let the sparse moonlight into the dark interior of tent. Sighing softly, he sat down at the entrance, musing if he should let Celylith know that he could return or not. After a moment, he decided against it, having come to the decision that he needed some time on his own.
If he had known what it was that Aragorn was dreaming about, he wouldn't have pressed him as he had, but then again, this had been the only way to make the man tell him about the nightmares… Donyc's face appeared suddenly in his mind's eye, and Legolas balled his hands into fists when he remembered what that man had done to his friend.
'He is dead now,' he thought, taking a deep breath, 'He is dead, I watched him die.'
That knowledge did little to comfort him since he saw how his human friend was still suffering from the time he had spent as that accursed man's captive, and once again Legolas felt the powerful need to kill Donyc, again, and this time more slowly.
He shook his head slightly, deciding that this was a most childish wish. Besides, it was unbecoming an elven warrior, but Legolas couldn't help it. That human and Cornallar had deserved death, as had that Lomar that had killed himself a few days ago.
'But there are still the other men that are responsible for that Lomar's actions,' he decided with a grim smile, leaning back against a tent pole. 'And they will pay for their companion's deeds, Elbereth, I will make sure of that!'
When Celylith returned an hour later, he was still pondering that thought, a humourless expression on his face that did not bode well for the men's future.
Adruran was a patient man, a trait that had served him well in the past and would probably serve him well in the future. However, to everything there were limits, and he was slowly but surely reaching his, even though he tried to hide that feeling and did his best not to let his men see what he was thinking.
But this was almost as bad as the time in Lake-town, he decided grumpily, slowly moving a whetstone across the blade of his sword. They had arrived here in Dale a little more than a week ago, and he had ordered his men to keep hidden near a small hill near the settlement called Ravenhill.
There had been an old watch-post once, but it was abandoned now and only slowly being rebuilt; the Men of Dale obviously concentrated rather on the city itself and the modernisation of the road that led to the Lonely Mountain where the Dwarf King Dáin Ironfoot resided, who had taken the title of King under the Mountain after Thorin Oakenshield's death in the Battle of Five Armies twelve years ago.
The township of Dale itself was swiftly growing, for now that a new King had returned to the place and the dragon was no longer a threat, it reassumed its old position as a trading post with the dwarves of Erebor.
But it wasn't yet big enough that a group of twenty strange men would not attract attention, and the very last thing Adruran needed right now was to be brought before King Bard and be forced to explain himself.
The man set aside his sword before he could file the blade to the width of a hair, something that would happen rather quickly if he didn't pay attention. No, it had been a lot better to stay in the shadows and observe quietly, for he really didn't think that the King of Dale would thank them for what they were about to do.
Two days ago he and two of his lieutenants, Tiddryr and Bleon, who had accompanied him to the town, had finally been able to track down one of the men they had been looking for who had apparently come to Dale to replenish the group's provisions. After a short discussion they had decided not to approach the man – for which the lad should be more than thankful in Adruran's opinion – but to watch him closely, to find out where his companions were and how far they had got with their little treasure hunt.
Adruran had followed the man himself, and had quickly come to the decision that these men deserved no better than what would eventually be happening to them. He had never seen anyone as conspicuous as that human who had been behaving so forced normally that all that was missing was a sign on his back saying "Attention! I have something to hide!!"
Now they knew where the camp of the Lake-men was located, and three of his men were hidden close by and were watching every single one of their movements. If anything happened at all, Adruran would be the first to know. All in all, the situation was perfectly under control, and the only thing that grated on his nerves was the fact that he had to wait, once again.
He wasn't even overly concerned with the guards that were with the Lake-men, apparently not to their immoderate joy either. They probably belonged to the same group that had been looking for the man they had … interrogated in Lake-town, and if that was so, they were no threat to his men.
No, his problem was the waiting. As mentioned before, Adruran was a patient man, but the last month had been too much even for him. To him it seemed that he had been doing nothing else than staying in the shadows and waiting for something to happen, and that was something that he couldn't cope very well with.
On the other hand, he didn't intend to search for that treasure himself, if such a thing even existed, something which he doubted somewhat. But his liege had been so sure that it did, and his lord usually gathered all the information he could before sending anyone on a mission. In this case it had been less information than usual, but Adruran had known better than to mention that during the short briefing he had received. He was not only a patient man, he wasn't stupid or suicidal either, and questioning his liege in front of others – as well as alone – was both to a high degree.
No, he thought, taking up the whetstone once more, his hands beginning to twitch with inactivity again, he would let them look for that treasure all they wanted to.
He would only make sure that the Men of Dale didn't notice anything, and when the Lake-men had found what they were looking for, he would set the second phase of his lord's plan in motion. He liked that part a lot better too; it was far more sophisticated and subtler than relieving a group of would-be-adventurers of a treasure.
But he would only be able to do that if these incompetents finally found something, he thought grumpily. Eru, according to several people the leader of the Lake-men, a certain Gwemyr, knew where that accursed treasure was, or that was at last what he had been claiming!
While Adruran was still cursing the incompetence of the Lake-men and seriously considering if he shouldn't just go and offer them his men's help, the front flap of his tent was thrown to the side and Geran stepped in, brown eyes twinkling with amusement when he saw his captain sharpen his sword yet again. The older man had been doing little else for more than a day now.
"Sir!" he said, eyes fixed at a spot behind above his superior's right shoulder.
The other looked up unwillingly, brushing back a strand of brown hair.
"What, Geran? And don't ask me if you may hunt a dwarf again, my answer stands!"
The younger man actually blushed a little. He had indeed asked his captain for permission. He was a hunter at heart, and had hunted everything possible in this part of the world, from deer, bears and orcs to men. In his opinion there was nothing more exciting and more rewarding than hunting men, for it posed only a real challenge for a hunter when the prey could fight back. The fact that there were dwarves here was a great temptation for him, since they were said to be brave, cunning and very hard to kill despite their relative shortness.
Ah well, he thought, he would get his chance. One of these days he would be able to able to add a dwarven axe to his trophy collection. Perhaps not now, but he would, one day…
"No, sir," he said, bowing his head and averting his eyes. "Hanar has just arrived. He reached Dale yesterday evening and came here as soon as he was able. His horse apparently began to founder a few days ago, so that the journey took him almost twice as long."
"Hanar?" Adruran asked, a cold knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "He came alone?"
"Yes, sir," Geran stated. "He said Lomar stayed behind. He didn't say why."
Adruran resisted the urge to fling the whetstone against the canvas and returned his blade to its sheath. Wonderful, just when everything was going according to plan for a change. He had unambiguously stated that the two of them should stay in Lake-town, and if Hanar was here now, that could mean only one thing: Trouble.
"Send him in," the brown haired man growled and glared darkly at the young man. "He'd better have a good explanation for this, or I will make sure he regrets having ever been born!"
The younger man nodded and stepped out of the tent, only to reappear a second later with another man that looked rather exhausted. He inclined his head to his captain.
"Sir."
"There'd better be a good reason for this, Hanar," Adruran said in a low, menacing voice. "I thought my orders had been clear."
"Yes, sir, they were," the man nodded, meeting the other man's eyes evenly. "But believe me, you'll want to hear this. There is trouble brewing, sir."
"I thought as much," his superior said testily, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. Patience, he reminded himself, he needed patience…
The other man apparently recognised his captain's tone of voice, for he quickly swallowed and continued.
"A week ago a group came to Esgaroth, and they started asking questions about the good Master Gwemyr and his friends. One of them was a ranger, and Lomar and I decided to have a little chat with him."
"You did what?" Adruran asked in a dangerously low voice. Valar, they couldn't have been that stupid, could they? "A ranger? Are you insane?"
"He was still young," the other man tried to justify their actions. "We thought that he would talk the soonest. Lomar stayed behind to finish the interrogation, because it took longer than we had expected. As you once said, sir, them rangers are tough."
"Talk the soonest?" Adruran repeated unbelievingly. "There is only one kind I can think of that is as stubborn as rangers, and that is…" He fell silent and gulped, the knot in his stomach turning into ice all of the sudden. "Elves."
Hanar grinned, relieved that his captain was suitably impressed.
"Yes, sir. There were two with him, and who knows how many were waiting in the woods."
Adruran closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Damn it, damn it, damn it … why elves? This was simply not fair! If there was a guarantee for disaster, it was elves. Everything connected to that accursed race was more trouble than it was worth, far more trouble…
He opened his eyes again, listening to the chirping of the crickets outside of the tent.
"Where is Lomar then? If your horse was foundering, why hasn't he caught up with you? Even with a ranger it shouldn't take much longer than two days, especially not when he was still young. Especially not with Lomar."
He gave Geran a dark look which the youth didn't even seem to notice. Lomar was one of the younger man's friends and shared his disputable hobbies.
Hanar shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know, sir. Perhaps the elves got him. I don't know."
Adruran pointed at a crude stool in front of his camp bed.
"Sit and tell me everything in the right order. Slowly."
The other man obeyed and began to tell his captain all he knew, shooting the younger man that still stood behind him a curious look after a while.
Geran however wasn't paying the words of his companions any attention whatsoever, his whole thinking concentrated on one word: Elves. At least two of the fair folk, he thought almost dreamily, and they were in all likelihood coming here. Elves – that was a prey he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. The mere thought of him being able to hunt an elf was causing small shivers of anticipation to run down his spine. Who needed dwarves when there were elves coming right here?
Geran leaned back against a tent pole, a thin smile playing about his lips. This whole mission had just got a whole lot more interesting.
TBC...
ada - father (daddy)
mellonamin - my friend
Lá, lá, atar, útúla sinome (Quenya) - No, no, father, do not come here!
Nánye vanwa morniësse, torninyat (Quenya) - I am lost in darkness, my (two) brothers
Lá, atar … úhiruvan tiënya at-elyënna (Quenya) - No, father ... I will not find my way back to you
Útúla, atar (Quenya) - Do not come, father
*shivers* Uh-oh, they're going to get into trouble! Mhahahahaha! *sighs tiredly* See? My alter ego's back. Marbienl and her pet spider dragged her back from her vacation spot - don't ask me how they found out where she was. So, now she's back and Celylith's in trouble, since I am writing chapter 18 right now... *shrugs* Poor elf. Okay, next chapter we have questions concerning sloths and bears, see more of Adruran and his Merry Men, and the three arrive in Dale. All that and more you'll get in the next post, and reviews really help! So - review? Please??
Additional A/N:
Halo - *g* I knew I should have changed the chapter title... Too late now, I guess... *evil grin* I didn't do it on purpose, really! And if I kill Celylith there will be deathly trouble? That should be interesting! You know, you have just given me another reason to kill the dear elf...
Alilacia - As I said, thanks SO MUCH for the idea of the 'Fox' and friends as pirates! I fell off my chair laughing, really, I did! 'Ar, me mateys...' ... *giggles* And no, the weather will go from sunny to cloudy the exact moment I exit my plane. Trust me, it's always like that. Oh, and Celylith and Legolas have been friends for two *millennia*, not centuries, which makes the whole thing even worse, of course... *g* 'WhichCell weekly'? That is a really good magazine! Really, I've been reading it ever since I started writing - just in case Thranduil ever gets a hold of me... *g* LOL, an "un-named-yet-really-close-and-frozen-over-waterfall (UYRCAFOW for short)"??? ROTFL, really, that was just too funny... *g* And I did never say that Celylith dies, okay? Don't say that so loudly, Zam might hear us - it is only a possibility, alright? And I will think about handing out clones if I kill him, okay? Then all the Nólads out there would have some company... *g*
Mouse - Yeah, to be honest, it was a rather pathetic thing to do, but really: Would you want to face Thranduil dragging a half-dead ranger behind? I certainly wouldn't ... but Anardir's to be pitied, that's true. Poor elfsie. *huggles him* Oh, that was an Aussie? So sorry, but the movie was still bad. *shrugs* Hey, it had Nick Nolte who is quite a good actor himself, and it didn't save anything either...
Firniswin - You just felt like laughing? Then please do, since laughing is a very healthy thing to do - or so I've heard... *g* I'm not good at betting either - one of the reasons why I never do it, I guess... I mean, it's a 50-50 chance and I still lose every time! That's virtually impossible! *shrugs* That's life - my life, that is...
XsilicaX - You noticed the shirtless bit? *shakes head* Not even _I_ thought of that! But he was bandaged, so it doesn't really count, huh? *evil grin* Wow, a single line can do that to you? Now, that is interesting... And of course Celylith is betting, evil elf that he is - he deserves death, don't you think? J/k!!! Really! *runs off to escape Cathy's wrath* And I promise I'll think of Glor - he could get hurt trying to protect the twins or Estel, what do you think?
TrinityTheSheDevil - Hmm, Thranduil ... throw a fit? Scream at the messenger? Something like that, I think... *sighs* Johnny Depp... I love Johnny Depp, he is just perfect, really.... And yes, rub it in, 'The Hulk' was really bad. It wasn't even funny! *grrrr* Hidalgo? I know that name, but what is that again?
TigerLily713 - Yeah well, many people don't agree with the Thranduil-Elrond-friendship, and technically speaking, they're right. I mean, they probably never were great friends or anything, but I couldn't let Elrond stay there for month and let them hate each other, could I? And you're right, Legolas really does like mothering him - as does Aragorn, mothering Legolas, I mean... Thanks for all your nice compliments!
Coreinha - *grabs Celylith* Don't put him in your pocket! He will suffocate in there and then it will all be YOUR fault, not mine! Yesss, precioussss, your faultsss... *g* Well, let's say, they will survive this fic as well - but once again, barely... *evil laugh* With Celylith it's another thing so he still might die, my alter ego's back, after all... *g*
Imbefaniel - Playing catch with a bottle? That does sound insane, I agree... *g* Sure you can place a bet! I just need a dagger of something similar from you and you can place your bet, go ahead... *g* *blinks* You pushed Legolas into your closet? What is it with you guys and closets? Zam and Celylith, you and Legolas... Really! *snickers* And no! His hair has to remain perfect, of course!
Reginabean - Kids ALWAYS have energy - I have no idea where they take it from! Really, it's scary - they are little demons, that's the only explanation! Thranduil's reaction? I don't know, there's really no way to put in here without interrupting the 'flow' of the story, but perhaps I can put it in a flashback in the end. We'll see. *sighs* You too? I merely said that I _might_ kill him - there is that persistent voice in my head telling me to... *g* And I'm still sorry about Nólad, really!
Amelie - Oh, you have a good reason why they shouldn't die? Let's hear it then! If I killled them, I would have no-one left to torture in the next story? That's your reason? Okay, I'll admit that you're right about Aragorn and Legolas, since they are, well, irreplacable, but I could kill Celylith and think of a new elven sidekick... *evil grin* I agree with you that there ARE some readers that would be more than willing to hurt me if I should kill any of them, so be assured that I will think about it long and hard. The review wasn't useless! It was fun! Thanks! *huggles her*
Carrie - 'Anardir, tell my father that we will be getting into trouble and will most likely not be in one piece when we get back home...' LOL! Well, it's the truth, but just a tiny little bit stupid, huh? But hey, that's Legolas we're talking about... *evil grin* Hey! *huggles Anardir* He's not a wacko elf! I might need him in future stories, so don't hurt him! *sobs* I am losing my touch? AM I?? AM I REALLY??? *breaks down sobbing* Noooooo.... *wipes away tears* Okay, I can only restore my reputation by KILLING Celylith, now can I? Mahahahaha! I really hope you had fun in NYC! Thanks for reviewing, and your story rocks! I will review as soon as I can, promise! *huggles Carrie*
Gwyn - *points at dictionary* See for yourself! ...READER: Person, male or female, also known as -Loonie. Can react highly unpredictable when reading -Cliffhangers. Sometimes the readers join together in packs, in this form very dangerous... See? I told you so! You like me!! *huggles Gwyn* Thank you! I knew you liked me! I'm a nice person, after all! *g* About the cliffies: REAL cliffies - the things _I_ call cliffies, aren't in the next few chapters, I'm afraid, I am too busy explaining things. But a few minor cliffies are coming up, I think, so don't worry.
Firnsarnien - Great you liked the no-cliffy bit! I thought I should give you some time to recover before the next cliffies, huh? And I do pity Celylith, really, he should have listened to Legolas and returned to Mirkwood... Now it's too late, stupid elfsie... *g* You have been traumatised for life by Nólad's death? Well, I am very sorry about that, really, because I really liked him, and I just said that I _might_ kill him, okay? It's just a possibility... 'Near drowming in a tup of honey'? well, I actually think death is better than that! *g* You would lynch me? You would? Well, you'd have to get past my warg, the nazgûl and a balrog first...
Eva - Oh, yes, the relationship between Imladris and Mirkwood.... Thranduil: Ah, my lord Elrond, here is your son... *shoves bandaged Aragorn into his direction* Elrond: What? I can't even see him for all the bandages! What happened? Thranduil: Oh, you know, the usual ... Mercenaries, treasure hunters, frozen lakes, nightmares... Elrond: Enough! This means WAR!!! *giggles* That'd be really bad, huh? Your wargs, from a gentleman who cackles a lot? Hmm, who could that be? But I have my own warg, Fred sr., and Stan the balrog, and the Nazgûl, of course... *evil grin*
A Person - *g* But I love idle threats! Well, I wouldn't like you to fall into depression or anything, now would I? Besides, I really don't want a pancake in my eye (A pancake? Are you mad? *g*), so here's the next bit! Thanks for your reviews!
Fliewatuet - *nods* Yes, it's a stupid idea, kind of, but then again, it's Aragorn and Legolas we are talking about! All their ideas are stupid! As I said, I don't know yet if I can put the Anardir/Thranduil confrontation (And the '/' between the two names is just coincidental, really!) in, right now I can't think of a way that wouldn't interrupt the 'flow' of the story. Perhaps a flashback in the end? I'll see what I can do. Well, and about the chapters: The secret is that I always am a few chapters ahead, if you know what I mean. Right now I'm writing chapter 18, so even if I hadn't had time to write much in a week, I can still update. Usually I need three-four days for a chapter, so that helps too... *g*
Strider's Girl - *blushes* Well, thank you! It's great you like the stories! And the plot bunnies? Well, most of them just appear out of nowhere. They pop up quite frequently in college during especially boring lectures though, there's something in those classrooms that just inspires me to hurt someone, I guess... *g* Thanks for your review!
Lady Sandrilene - Well, you have changed your name! I don't know what it means, but it sounds good! Yeah, and Aragorn _is_ talking about them, the poor boy... *huggles the ranger* His life is not easy, is it? No, I suppose not, with all the FF writers waiting to hurt him... *g* Thanks a lot for reviewing!
CrazyLOTRfan - Yeah, apparently all the elves he knows want to mother him! Must be connected to his Innocent-little-Estel-look... *g* Hah! You don't think that I ONLY have a balrog, now do you? I mean, yes, there is Stan, but I have Fred Sr., a vicious warg Miki has given me, and the Nazgûl of course - they live in my bathroom... *g* Stop pushing me! *points at cinema* It's not here yet! Stop rubbing it in, will you? Jeez, Canadians... *g* J/k! Really!
Nikara - *nods* Yup, they will. I mean, he just seems to attract that kind of treatment, doesn't he? *huggles her baby ranger* Poor boy! And I could never write a torture scene much longer than this, I HATE writing them! Really! Angst in this chapter? Whatever gave you that idea, my friend? I never write angst, you should know that... *g* Great I managed to surprise you! I had feared the treasure aspect would be to obvious... *huggles her* Thanks for the reviews!
Arwen-Evenstar - *grins evilly* Yeah, I don't envy Anardir either... Having to tell Thranduil that his son has just left on a stupid, suicidal mission... *shakes head* That doesn't sound like fun, no, precioussss.... *g* Great you liked the chapter!
Maranwe - Uh, you have to wait so long, because ... because they need three days to get to Dale! That's it! And because I almost forgot about it, that's why... *hangs head* No internet till Tuesday? That's horrible, poor you! *hugs her* Truly a horryfying experience.. Well, my chapters delight in being longer than I want them to be! I mean, I am aiming for 12 or 13 pages, and each time they turn out to be 15-16 pages! We hatesss them, preciousss... Thanks so much for your review!
Aron - *g* I'm afraid they can't hear you - but you're right, of course... They SHOULD run, as fast as they can, but they're stupid, aren't they? So, in a way the deserve what they get! So I should just torture/injure him? Well, okay, I will think about it... Great you like the story so far! Thanks for reviewing!
Marbienl - *blushes* Great you like them, Marbienl, really ... even though I would never go as far as comparing them to C&S... Celylith being like a flame? Well, I haven't really seen it like this before, but I guess it's a possibility, sorry... Well, no, I didn't like Lomar much, but I kinda like Adruran. I don't know what to do with him either... You're an elf then? Well, I'm just a normal person, I guess ... you know, I'm not obsessed THAT way. I love the books and the movies and am learning Sindarin and Quenya and the History of Middle-earth, but I don't imagine being whatever or watch movies just because one of the actors was in it years ago. It's a kind of obsession as well, but a rather rational one, I think. Break someone's thumbs? Ah well, I'll think about it ... perhaps the next fic... Yes, Aragorn is escaping healers quite a lot, isn't he? Well, that's just what I would do, so... And DAMN YOU for bringing her alter ego back! She has lots of new ideas and evil things to do to our fav. elves and ranger - all YOUR fault! Yes, nightmares are coming up now, thanks a lot for your long review!
Seveawen - Oh, you're getting married? I hope I'm invited, I mean it was _me_ who brought the two of you together after all! I'm sure you will live long and prosper... *g* Uhm, I'm giving you ideas? So sorry about that - I can't help myself! It's my evil nature, I guess... *g* You counted? 44 times? Really? Wow, that's a lot, I never knew I said such things so often... Hope you friend gets better soon! Thanks for reviewing!
Alexa - *sighs* I know, it's getting really long... Not that that's a bad thing, of course, I LOVE every single review, but I think I will have to cut it back some in the near future. Either that or I'll need an extra day to get the chapters ready.... We'll see... *shrugs* Well, define 'action'?! The next few chapters are rather quiet, I think, it's because a lot needs to be prepared and explained, so it's not that much action, no... Sorry. Uh, you're right, I guess. I have never seen it that way, that I would kill Legolas as well ... but no, he could go to Valinor to heal - j/k! Really! And you're right, I wouldn't get as many reviews - we can't have that! *g*
Shadow Warrior - *huggles her* And I thank you for that! A short review is much better than no review! And RL can be a real b**** sometimes, I agree... Thanks for reviewing!
Stacee Phelps - See? You reviewed, and a day later the chapter's here! It really works, you see? *g* And NO, it was NOT a cliffy! This one isn't either, even though I will admit that it's a bit more cliffy-like than the last. But still no cliffy. *g*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - 'Don't kill Celylith because he's a smart, responsible one'? LOL, I will surely tell him that, even though Aragorn and Legolas might disagree... But as I said, I will think about it, okay? Thanks for all your reviews!
LeggyLover 03 - The sequel ... hm, I think after I've finished this one, huh? *runs off to escape angry reader* Yeah, I know that you knew that... To answer the question: I don't know yet. Probably sometime in October, I guess.... And I really hate to disappoint you, but I never said there was going to be any Elrond engst in the sequel - you know why? Because he probably isn't even going to be in it. That's logical, hmm? Sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that.
Alisha - Yeah, someone is thinking in the group - but no-one is listening to him! *g* And you're right, Celylith would be a lot safer in Mirkwood, to be honest, that was what I had been planning for him in the beginning. But somehow I got bitten by that plotbunny and then... *blushes* Great you like the comments. It's just my wicked, odd sense of humour, I guess... *broad grin* I'm glad someone like that sadistic mass murderer scene, I was snickering myself when I wrote it. And Celylith can't come and make you better right now - he either is in Zam's closet or in Cor's pocket. I dunno why they keep doing that, really, the poor elf... *huggles her* I loved the review! Thanks so much, and I hope I didn't let you wait too long!
Aratfeniel - Who _doesn't_ like to talk like Gollum, precioussss? Whossss doessssn't? *g* See, you have company. If you read my A/N you will soon see that that happens quite a lot to me as well... 3 weeks and no computer? The horror! That is against human rights or something... *g* And you thought that the wargs were cute? Really, there I have to agree with your friends: You're insane. But the dragon thingies the Nazgûl rode, THEY were cute! *g* It's great that you're still reading this - thanks a lot! *huggles her*
Well, as you can see, I have decided to put the names in bold letters so you would find your replies more quickly! I love all my reviewers, so the least I can do is make things easier for you! *huggles all reviewers* Thanks so much for your support!