Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

*grins broadly* Well, if one reads your reviews one could think that Legolas is suicidal or has a death wish! I mean, come on people, he didn't have many options left, did he? So no reason to call the men in the white coats, even though he _does_ travel with Aragorn and should have learned by now how that HAS to turn out... *shakes head* Stubborn elf indeed.

I am sorry though if I spoilt the whole cliff thing for you by pointing out that it was a CLIFFhanger (even though, as some of you have pointed out correctly, it wasn't really a cliffHANGER but more a cliffJUMPER *g*), but I just couldn't help myself. I wanted to do that ever since I found out what cliffhanger meant, so I hope you'll forgive me.

Oh, and I have to state that the bear was not entirely my fault, it was more or less Halo Son's evil influence. While I was still writing "An Eye For An Eye" I was visiting her, and there I saw that really stupid cartoon with a bear. We were - of course - just talking about Aragorn angst and pain and other nice things like that, and so the images of the (rather fluffy though! *g*) bear in combination with her evil aura gave me the idea to put one or two of our favourites into a cave with a bear. *shrugs* So, you see, I am once again innocent.

Another Oh, I have finally seen "Pirates of the Caribbean". It was a nice movie, and Johnny Depp was wonderful! *sighs* He's such a fantastic actor, and his accent was simply great! All in all, highly enjoyable, even if it was rather predictable at times.


Okay, the next chapter's here, and it's the last one I'm posting in England since I'm going back on Monday. *sobs* I don't want to! I want to stay here and drive on the wrong side of the road! *clings to a tree* Ah well, nothing I can do about that.
Very well, what do we have ... Geran resumes him hunt ... we find out if Legolas has gone splash on the rocks ... and Celylith has a little talk with King Dáin and promptly manages to antagonise his hosts. *evil grin* Who'd have thought?

Enjoy and review, please!




Chapter 22


Geran moved silently through the undergrowth, inwardly cursing the men he had taken with him. They were noisier than a horde of orcs on their way back to their caves at sunrise, and he was sure that all this racket had already alerted everything that was out here in this wood.

Including the elf, he thought grimly, his fingers tightening around the bow he held. He once again looked at the beautiful weapon and wondered shortly where the elf had got it from. He had seen many weapons, and had added quite a lot to his trophy collection of course, but never before had he seen such a perfect bow. It was a strong, beautiful, lethal piece of work, and he was very much looking forward to using it on future hunts. It didn't really fit in his hand, but there was nothing to be done about that.

The young man moved nearly soundlessly around a fallen log, listening intently for any sign that would tell him where his quarry had disappeared to. He could feel the adrenaline and the lust to hunt course through his entire body, sharpening his senses and making every single pore of his being feel alive.

He was so incredibly lucky, he once again decided; to be able to hunt an elf was something that did not happen to you every day. Now he knew that he had been waiting for an opportunity such as this one for his whole life, it just couldn't compare to anything else. It was almost a shame that his prey was already wounded, he mused, but the last night had been far too much fun for real regrets.

But apparently, this hadn't really impaired the elf that much for he was still evading them, something he had not really thought possible. He had counted on him evading them for a few minutes, but he had been gone for about a quarter of an hour. Slight unease began to steal over him. One of his men had been gone for five minutes without any sign now, and he was beginning to regret his choice to split his men up. They had been closing in on their quarry ever since they had followed him into the wood, and it couldn't be long now before they caught up with him, elf or not.

Geran gave a small wink to his men, motioning them to stop. He stepped closer to a small tree, noting how Hanar was beginning to twitch with nervousness and impatience. He had not been very happy about Geran's idea to put the ranger into the abandoned mining shaft that, right now, hosted a rather big, rather ill-tempered brown bear, since he would have preferred to kill him himself.

His lieutenant, however, had been more in the mood for a game, and had thought the entire idea to be highly amusing. Hanar had accepted his decision, of course, since there had been nothing else he could do, and had apparently transferred some of his hate from the young human to the elf. Which was just fine with him, Geran decided as he turned over a dark branch slightly to get a better look at it, as long as he didn't kill the elf he could do to him what he wanted. It was him that would be killing him, no-one else.

Geran ran his hand lightly over the wood and studied the dark red stain that was colouring his fingers when he withdrew them. This had just become a bit easier, he grinned broadly. The elf was beginning to leave a visible trail, and judging by this he was beginning to tire as well.

Hanar was beginning to open his mouth to say something, but Geran silenced him with a move of his hand. They were very close now, he just knew it, and the very last thing he needed was that Hanar destroyed everything. The cliff was just a few hundred yards in front of them, and the elf just had to be there. They had blocked all the other exists the fair being could have used, and he would be trapped against the cliff.

There was simply no way out for him, and Geran was finding it harder and harder to keep his excitement under control. He was so close to his goal now, so close…

He let go of the branch and began to push his way through the undergrowth, his four men behind him. He didn't care anymore if the elf heard him or not, the only thing that mattered now was to get to the cliff, and to get there now.

When he did get there, however, the sight that greeted him couldn't have been farther from the one he had expected. When he entered the little clearing right at the edge, the elf's bow drawn and pointing unwaveringly at the scene in front of him, there was no living thing in sight.

Although, he thought rather dryly, there was something else here, namely the still, bloody and very, very dead body of the one man that had been missing.

But no elf.

He had to suppress irrational laughter that was beginning to rise in his chest. No elf. Where by all the Gods could he be? He couldn't have evaded them, especially not in the condition he had been in…

"Well," Hanar commented wryly. "He's not here."

Geran whirled around, weapon still drawn.
"What was that, Hanar?"

The other man realised that this had apparently not been the smartest thing to say, especially considering the disappointment his lieutenant had to feel right now.
"Nothing, sir."

"I hope so," Geran snapped and made his way over to the still body of the man. "Because you of all people should know better than to make me angry, Hanar."

He knelt down next to the other man's body, needing only a second to identify the cause of death, with was rather obvious anyway. The human's throat had been cut cleanly from side to side, which made Geran automatically look for the weapon that had been used. He had never been one to believe stories easily, and had always thought that the things that were told about the fair folk were tales only believed by children and old ones, horror stories told by the fire, and unless the elf had used his fingernails, he would have needed a knife to do this do his man.

Something gleaming caught his eye to the right, and he stepped closer, bent down and retrieved a knife that was half buried in the snowy ground, coated in dark, rust-coloured blood.

Geran clenched his teeth. Somehow the elf had managed to take this knife from the man and had killed him with it, he thought in impotent fury. He didn't know how he had managed to do that, but the fact remained that he had done it. He forced himself to take a deep, slow breath. There had to be a clue as to where his prey had gone, he reasoned as he studied the churned up snow intently. He began to curse the elves in general and this one in particular for not leaving any footprints on freshly fallen snow, something that he had forgotten to take into account.

He crouched down next to the body of the man and motioned Hanar to step closer.
"What do you make of this, Hanar?"

The other man stepped closer and studied the chaotic imprints on the white surface that shone brightly in the morning sun.
"They fought here … and then…"

He looked up at his superior and swallowed once, deciding that Geran wouldn't like this at all.

"Exactly," his lieutenant nodded grimly, and together they rushed over to the edge of the cliff, falling to their knees just in front of it and peering down intently.

Hanar swallowed again when he studied the sight that greeted him and looked straight ahead, refusing to meet his superior's gaze. He shortly contemplated if Geran was going to kill all of them in one of his fits of fury; it would be a thing not unheard of. That was the problem with working for Geran, he mused depressed, he granted you quite a lot of privileges and fun, but there was always the possibility of angering him or be present when someone else angered him.

Then, he thought wryly, it was best to be as far away from him as possible.

He once again looked down the cliff, his eyes travelling over churned up snow and rather sharp-looking boulders to finally come to rest on what looked like a broken rag-doll from up here. When he looked closer, he could see long, blonde hair that gleamed slightly in the sun, pale, bloodstained skin and the tattered remains of a dark green cloak.

The elf. Wonderful, that would make Geran so very, very happy…

Geran slowly stood to his feet, eyes fixed unwaveringly on the still figure of the elf that lay at the bottom of the cliff, his left arm bent in an angle that was impossible even for an elven body. He blinked slowly, but the picture remained just the same. The young man suppressed the urge to kill someone or something, anything, to vent the enormous frustration that was building within his chest.

Never in his whole life had he felt this betrayed, this disappointed, never before, not even when he had shot the other elf and he had died, something that he had not wanted, by the way. It had just happened and had only been an unlucky coincidence, but he hadn't felt too bad about it, safe in the knowledge that he still had the other elf to hunt.

Now it had been taken from him, his one and probably only chance to ever hunt and kill an elf. The first one had died before he had even had the time to set up the game, and now this one had apparently fallen down a cliff after killing one of his men. Brilliant, that was the only word to describe it, and he didn't even have the ranger anymore to have a little fun…

Geran took a step back and gave the dead body of the man behind him a fierce kick. How dare he, how dare this man take away his chance to kill the elf! He had deserved it, he had worked so hard to convince Adruran that he had everything under control, he had earned it! Why had this fool engaged the elf at all, his orders had been quite specific!

He kicked the body of the dead man again and again, but instead of diminishing his anger only grew to improbable new dimensions. He would never get a chance like this again, never, he just knew it…

"Sir…"

Hanar's voice drew him back to the present, and Geran turned around to look into the anxious, terrified faces of his men that had gathered at the far side of the clearing. Realising that he must look like a madman, the young man forcefully calmed himself, his hands that held the bow still trembling with rage.

"We will climb down there," he announced in a gruff voice. "Check whether he's still alive."

Hanar carefully took a step closer to his lieutenant, eyeing him for signs that he might try to attack them or was losing it.
"Sir, you know what the captain said," he began slowly. "He ordered us to come back as quickly as possible…"

Geran whirled around and grasped the other man by his thick woollen cloak, pulling him forcefully closer.
"He might still be alive!" he snarled. "Perhaps he's faking it! We will go down there!"

Hanar looked at the other man as if he had just lost his mind.
"You cannot defy him, Geran! Adruran is only waiting for proof that you consciously disobeyed him! He will kill you!"

Geran looked at him with dark eyes, disappointment, fury and hate swirling in his gaze. Hanar was right, of course, they didn't have the time to linger here for a second longer than they had to, but that didn't calm him in the slightest. Finally, he turned back to the cliff, fingers twitching slightly in agitation.

"Very well," he said, raising the bow and pulling the string taunt, "We will see if he's faking it."

Taking aim quickly, he let the arrow fly, his fury temporarily forgotten as he watched the wonderfully crafted shaft cut through the air. The arrow's dark wood impacted with the elf's upper body, and Hanar was sure he could almost hear the dull thud that reverberated through the still air around them when it hit its target. The elf's body was thrown fully onto his back with the force of the impact, but he didn't move or utter a sound, something that any being would have done had he or she been alive and conscious.

Hanar looked at the broken body of the elf, slowly beginning to smile smugly. So this was over, he thought to himself, the ranger and the elves were taken care of and his friend avenged. It had been fun, and it was almost a shame that it was already over.

"You see, sir?" he asked Geran who watched the elf with the eyes of a hawk, looking for any sign that he was alive and merely pretending to be dead. "He's dead, there is no way he could have kept still for this. Let's get back to camp; he's gone."

Geran unwillingly wrenched his eyes away from the still body of the elf, his mind finally beginning to accept the inevitable. The elf was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Alright," he finally agreed, ignoring the relief on he faces of his men. "We will return to camp."

He turned and gave the body of the man a hard look.
"Leave him," he ordered, looking at the rest of his men as if to challenge them to question his command. "He deserves what he got when he took on the elf."

The other men exchanged nervous and slightly disapproving glances, but knew better than to protest. It was never wise to antagonise Geran, and right now it would probably even be stupider than on most days.

Their lieutenant turned back to the cliff and gave the still body of the elf a last look before he pushed through his men and moved off without looking back. Adruran would probably give him that exasperated look of his again, but he didn't think that this question would be enough for him to question his decision. It was only one man, after all, and a man that hadn't been excessively useful or intelligent at that.

Geran returned the bow to his quiver as he made his way through the undergrowth, his men following him mutely. This had not worked out at all the way he had imagined it, and in the end the elf had denied him the ultimate pleasure of killing him, damn him and his whole accursed race!

He stopped that train of thought and once again tried to calm himself completely, knowing full well that he couldn't face his captain in his current state of mind, or Adruran might fulfil his promise and kill him in front of the men, in a highly unpleasant manner no doubt.

And while he relished participating in such activities, he seriously doubted that the part of the one being bound to that pole held any appeal at all.




Legolas awoke from one moment to the next, shooting upwards into a sitting position in a fraction of a second. The upright position lasted only for another second though, for he almost immediately sank back again, feeling paralysed with pain. Besides, there was a faint, but apparently very urgent voice inside his head that told him to lie back, be still and look as lifelessly as possible, for Eru's sake.

He couldn't instantly remember why he would think such a thing, or why his entire body hurt as if a very big, very heavy rock had just fallen on top of him – or as if he had been on one of Aragorn's and his brothers' infamous trips to Bree and had lost one of their drinking contests again - but he somehow did know that he needed to be quiet and as still as possible.

'Well,' he thought fuzzily, his mind still trying to catalogue the damage his body had sustained, 'Who am I to argue with myself?'

A small, still reasonable part of his brain noted worriedly that this was a very bad, very concerning thing to think, but the rest of his mind didn't really know why, nor did it care. So the elven prince followed his own advice and remained where he was, his body wrecked with pain and his mind desperately trying to figure out just what had happened to him this time.

The longer he lay there, the more of his memories came back to him, and soon he even understood just why he had to keep quiet and stay motionless: Geran might be there, up on the cliff's edge, just looking for a sign that he wasn't dead after all, and Legolas had no intention to provide it for the man.

He also understood why he felt the way he did. His back hurt even more fiercely than it had before, and Legolas decided in an instant that he wouldn't look at it any time soon if he had any chance at all to prevent it. He was sure that he could feel stones and what felt like small sticks burrow into the welts in his back, and with the detachment that only great pain could bring, he realised that one particularly sharp rock ground into the partially exposed bone of a rib that the whipping had revealed.

His attention dreamily turned to the rest of his body, and he frowned in confusion when he analysed the reports that slowly were relayed to his brain. His whole body seemed to be a gigantic bruise, but that wasn't something that particularly surprised him. Neither was the feeling that someone or something, probably someone or something with rather sharp and large teeth, had torn off his left arm, beaten it against something hard and solid and finally stuck it back on, only the wrong way round.

No, what surprised him was the burning, stabbing pain in left shoulder that was really quite peculiar. The rest of his upper left arm felt comfortably numb, down to the elbow where his flesh turned into liquid fire, but his shoulder joint felt as if it was repeatedly stabbed by an ill-tempered troll armed with a particularly big javelin.

This inconceivable pain finally prompted him to open his eyes after he was reasonably certain that there was no-one else here. Legolas was sure that he was in a bad shape, but even now he was rather certain that he would have heard it had there been humans anywhere close by.

After a few more minutes he managed to get back into a sitting position, and he slowly and painstakingly moved backwards until his back hit solid rock, something that made it explode in a new wave of pain, something that he didn't even notice anymore. He quickly scanned the edge of the cliff, and his whole body sagged in relief when his eyes found nothing.

They had taken his bait, they had believed his little charade. They thought he was dead, thank Ilúvatar and all the Valar…

Legolas took a deep breath and slowly fixed his eyes on his left arm, inwardly rather sure that it was nothing he really wanted to see. He grimaced openly when his eyes came to rest on his forearm and the white, jagged pieces of his left radius that had burrowed through the skin of his arm and protruded from the flesh. One needn't be a physician or a healer to realise that this was a very bad break, and to be honest he was sure that he wouldn't be able to treat it properly here or even put a splint on it. He would need Aragorn to do that, who would probably rejoice at the opportunity to scowl at him and tell him how careless and irresponsible he was…

"Aragorn!" he gasped out aloud, the thought of his friend filling him with renewed strength and resolve, not to mention a fair share of fear and worry. He needed to find a way back up there and help the human, he was sure that the young ranger had survived the cave-in, he just had to have. He refused to even consider the other option, namely that Aragorn was dead, and he truly alone now…

The fair haired elven prince gritted his teeth and finally looked at his shoulder, and what he saw there very nearly cost him his composure. Not because the sight was too grizzly, nor because the wound was too terrible, no, only because he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. Legolas shook his head slowly, deciding that he must have hit it as well on his way down. That was the only explanation he could think of right now, there was simply no other reason why he would see one of his own arrows stick out of his left shoulder.

He fixed tired eyes on his shoulder joint again, but everything remained just the same: There was still a dark wooden shaft protruding from just below the collarbone, the black colour contrasting sharply against the paleness of his skin. He was more or less naked from the waist up now, a part of his mind noticed detachedly, and what had once been a fine elven cloak really didn't deserve that name anymore. The fabric was so slashed and torn that it would only serve for bandages now, and that was exactly was Legolas was starting to produce right now as he began to tear the cloak into strips, working awkwardly because of the pain and the fact that he could use only his right arm.

While he was fighting with a particularly stubborn piece of fabric that simply refused to be torn to pieces, he fervently tried to come up with a way to explain to himself why he had one of his own arrows in his left shoulder. After some more minutes he came to the conclusion that Geran must have shot him, probably to make sure that he was not faking. Or because he had felt like it, or because today was a sunny day, or because it was that time of year, who could tell?

His ire went up another notch, and his hatred and fury for this particular human reached improbable heights. Mixed with it was shame as well though, for he truly did not think that his father, Aragorn or any other of his friends would be very impressed that he had managed to get shot with one of his own shafts, something that he was absolutely sure was unbecoming an elven warrior, not to mention a prince.

O Elbereth, what would the twins or the younger palace guards say, he wondered horrified. They would never let him live this down, never…

While he was still pondering this, he began to bind the more serious cuts he had sustained, quickly deciding to ignore his back for the time being. There was nothing he could do here, alone, without supplies and with only the use of one hand anyway, and he was quite sure that he would pass out with the pain the treatment would bring should he try, something that he could afford under absolutely no circumstances now.

He then reluctantly turned his attention to his left arm and shoulder, something which he still wanted to avoid in truth. But there was nothing to be done about it at the moment, and so he clenched his teeth and began to feel for the tip of the arrow that should have come out somewhere on his back. Legolas gave a blood-curling curse when his probing fingers found only torn skin and muscle, but definitely nothing like an arrow tip. The arrow hadn't penetrated his shoulder, which, right now, was decidedly annoying. He couldn't remove it on his own the way things were right now, and he wasn't sure if he had the strength to push it through himself.

Cursing some more for good measure, Legolas snapped the arrow about six inches from his shoulder and bound the wound as best as he could, certain that Lord Elrond would either have started to laugh or cry had he seen his makeshift bandage now. Clenching his teeth so tightly that he was sure he could hear small, cracking noises, he gave his forearm another fleeting glace before he decided that he had not nearly enough training in the healing arts to splint that break.

He quickly covered the open wound with a bandage and lightly wrapped it around his forearm, suppressing the whispering voices that told him that he would never use that arm again if he was not careful. He wouldn't think about that, he thought firmly, clinging to the pain his ministrations created as something to take his mind off these dark thoughts, he couldn't think about that. He would still be able to wield a sword or dagger should his left arm not fully heal, but for archery you needed two strong, healthy arms, and it didn't matter whether you injured your left or right arm to ensure that you would never use a bow again.

His firstborn strength and healing powers should be enough to ensure that the bone knitted swiftly, but if it wasn't set properly, he could be crippled, elven blood or not. It was something that happened very rarely among elves, but it was not unheard of, especially with bad breaks like this one. He had known an elf once whose arm had been mauled so badly by an attacking warg that he never regained full control over it again, no matter how much the healers at his father's palace had tried to fully mend the wound. He had been one of the older captains of the guard, and after some years he had left for the Undying Lands, unable to bear the feelings of helplessness and bitterness his disability had brought with it.

Legolas eyed his bound left arm with a mixture of disdain and trepidation. With a small sigh he grabbed another strip of his torn cloak and began to bind the arm to his chest, trying to immobilise it as best as he could. This way it would hinder him even more, but he just couldn't risk aggravating the wound any further. The mere thought of not being able to use his bow, of being unable to practice his archery made his blood run cold and his heart freeze in his chest. He didn't know how he would cope with that, or if he could cope with that at all.

The elf set his jaw as he fumbled to tie the ends of the straps together, his movements awkward and slow as he tried to force his tired and aching limbs to co-operate. He would deal with whatever would be happening to him, whenever it chose to happen – preferably a bit later, when he didn't feel as if he had been beaten with a very large, very blunt stick for a prolonged amount of time.

Legolas reached behind him and placed his uninjured hand against the big rock he was leaning against. It took him a whole two minutes to get to his feet, and when he finally stood, swaying heavily, he would almost have fallen down again. Through sheer willpower he managed to remain upright, and with a tremendous effort he pushed back the pain and nausea that washed over him.

He shortly looked at the snow at his feet that was spotted with more than a bit of red blood before he wrenched his eyes away from the sight, fixing them on the looming edge of the cliff above him. He would deal with the future when it came, but now he had to get up there to help his human friend.

Legolas slowly began to make his way over to the rock face, looking intently for a way up, if possible a way that he could use with only one arm.

He needed to get to Aragorn as fast as possible, and not only for his own sake. He didn't even want to begin to think about how the ranger had to feel right now, alone in a dark cave, waiting for him to return.




King Dáin was walking through the corridors of his mountain, deep in conversation with the Lords Ori and Gloin, when one of the junior healers came running up to them, his still rather short beard swishing from side to side.

The young dwarf skidded to a halt next to his king, giving him and his advisors a quick bow.

"Sire!" he panted, having obviously run around quite a lot in his search for the king. "My lords," he added, inclining his head to the other two dwarves.

Dáin gave the other a small smile, turning around fully.
"What is the problem, young one?"

"There is no problem, my lord," the young dwarf answered and caught his breath as best as possible. "But you wanted to be informed when the elf was waking." He took a deep breath and continued, apparently deciding to state this as clearly as he could, "He is waking up now, a whole three hours before he should."

Dáin exchanged a quick look with his advisors. This was what they had been waiting for; they needed as much information as possible before they could set their plan in motion. The dwarven king grimaced slightly. He just hoped that the elf would be a bit more lucid this time.

"Has he said anything yet?" Ori asked, looking at him interestedly, while Gloin simply huffed and frowned heavily.

"No, not really, my lord," the healer answered, following the three older dwarves who had taken up their walk once more and were heading for the healing caves now. "He started to wake a quarter of an hour ago, and was mumbling quite a lot." A mask of confusion spread over his face. "He said his prince's name a few time, as well as 'nightmare' and Eztil, the ranger's name."

"Estel," Ori corrected automatically.

"If you say so, sir," the healer shrugged, clearly not interested in the pronunciation of elvish names.

They reached the entrance of the caves where the healers were residing, and Dáin turned, hiding another smile. He motioned the young dwarf to precede them and looked at his two councillors, giving Gloin a stern look.

"I think it would be best of you stayed here, Gloin," he told him in a tone of voice that did not encourage any arguments, not that Gloin would have wanted to argue anyway.

"Right," Ori nodded, giving the other dwarf a sly look. "Your face would probably be enough to send the elf back into unconsciousness."

Gloin glared darkly at his companion and turned to face his king.
"And would that be so bad, my lord?"

Dáin lifted a bushy eyebrow and looked at his advisor in surprise.
"If he lost consciousness? Are you mad, Gloin? Of course it would be bad, we need to find out as much as possible about these men before we do anything. I will not endanger the lives of our warriors needlessly!"

The other dwarf folded his arms across his chest and lifted his chin, eyes flashing darkly in his face.
"I know you would not, sire, but I think you still do! You trust him, you trust an elf?"

Ori rolled his eyes. He himself had thought so as well when he had been younger, and while he was still convinced that the elves were the strangest and most annoying lot he had ever met, he had still learned during his travels with Thorin, the small Master Baggins and the others that there were exceptions to every rule. He smiled slightly when he thought back to the weeks they had spent in Rivendell, in the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond Half-elven. That had been a place whose beauty could even rival the glorious caves of the Lonely Mountain, and that was the highest compliment he could think of.

"Some elves can be trusted, Gloin," he reminded the other quietly. "Think of Rivendell."

Gloin brushed his words aside with a move of his hand.
"He's not Elrond, Ori, but rather a subject of King Thranduil, that is something you should think of."

"Enough!" Dáin snapped testily, his patience with Gloin's continuous complaints spent. He looked the other to dwarves in the eye and continued, "But yes, Gloin, I do trust this elf, and be it only because he had no reason to lie to us. He wants to find the other two as badly as we do, if not even more so. These men have most likely killed my brother's sons, brought us to the brink of war with Dale and attacked our allies, and if I need to trust the word of an elf who is one of these allies to make them pay for it, then I am prepared to do just that!"

Gloin grumbled a little at that, but did not question his lord's decision again. Dáin dismissed him with a wave of his hand and turned to enter the healing wing, closely followed by Ori.

The first thing he noticed was the scent of fragrant herbs that seemed to fill the spacious cavern, perfuming the air and instantly soothing the dwarven king's weary mind. They needed only to walk a few paces until they reached a slightly smaller cave where the healers had decided to put the elf, and when they entered the small space, Dáin noted that the smell was even stronger in here.

His eyes wandered over a long table that sat in the one corner of the cave, every square inch covered with pots, bunches of dried herbs, mortars, phials and small bowls. His healers had apparently used every single herb and medicine they could think of to keep the elf in this world, and he knew that it had been nothing short of a miracle that they had succeeded.

The master healer, a dwarf very small even for their race with a grey beard, just struggled to reach a small bundle of herbs on a shelf above the table, but amusing as that sight was, Dáin didn't offer to help him. The older dwarf was known for his quick temper and fierce pride that somehow didn't stop him from being patient and compassionate with his patients, and while Dáin might be king, he knew better than to alienate him. No matter who or what you were, it was never a clever thing to have the master healer as your enemy.

After some grumbling and standing on his toes, the old dwarf managed to reach the herbs, and when he grabbed them to put them down on the table, he noticed that Ori and Dáin had entered the room.

"Your majesty, my lord," he nodded respectfully, but with the somehow smug look of a being that knew that everyone was afraid of him to a certain degree.

"Dofur," the King of Erebor returned the nod. "Your apprentice informed me that our guest is waking up?"

The healer grumbled, wiping his hands on a cloth to clean it of the juices of the herbs he had been working with.

"It took the lad long enough to find you, then." He jerked his head into the direction of the bed that was situated at the other end of the cave. "He woke up almost half an hour ago now, and in Aulë's name, I don't know how he did it. He should be unconscious for at least three more hours, but," the old dwarf shrugged, "there he is. He didn't know where he was in the beginning, and he was saying some rather strange things, but he has been asking for you. Rather persistent, that one."

"Is he awake now?" Dáin questioned, giving the unmoving figure in the bed a quick look. "Can I speak to him?"

"Well," Dofur began, "From a medical point of view, I presume that you can since he adamantly refused to take any medicine that might make him lose consciousness again, not even something against the pain." The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest. "From a normal person's point of view though I can only advise you to try. He is … well, he's an elf."

"Yes, I think he is," Ori agreed with a small smile. "That would explain why he is so tall as well."

Dofur gave the younger elf a glare that promised very unpleasant things that would happen to him the next time he was his patient.
"Yes, my lord," he agreed in a silky tone of voice that made a cold shiver of fear run down Ori's back. "It definitely would."

The dwarven king suppressed a small grin at the mortified expression that flittered across his advisor's face as the three of them stepped closer to where the elf lay, Dofur following the other two dwarves with a stern expression on his face that promised that he would throw both of them out, king or not, if he saw the health of his patient endangered.

Dáin stopped a few feet in front of the bed, suppressing a rather uncertain expression. He gazed at the still, pale figure of the silver haired elf that lay motionlessly on the bed on his side, eyes tightly closed and face drawn with pain he was obviously trying to fight right now. While he was still trying to find the right words to say to him, the elf's eyes opened slowly, blinking a few times as he concentrated on the faces in front of him.

Celylith waited for the faces to come into focus, and when they did, he had to fight the urge to close his eyes again. 'Wonderful,' he thought as he tried to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain in his back. 'I am in the pits of Angband, I just have to be, and any second now Morgoth is going to make an appearance to graciously welcome me to his home.'

He knew of course that he was in Erebor, in the home of King Dáin, and not in Melkor's dungeons, but a small, irrational part of his brain still hoped that the whole situation would somehow change from a nightmarish to a normal one.

After a few seconds he accepted that this would most likely not happen and opened his mouth to speak.
"King Dáin."

He frowned, trying to decide if that voice had truly been his. It had sounded so alien, harsh and hoarse and gruff … dwarvish, he realised with an inward giggle. His amusement turned into concern though, was he turning into a dwarf? For all he knew he might be, his muddled brain reasoned, he was stuck in a cave with a bunch of them after all, one could never be sure about these things…

The dwarven king had apparently not noticed his confusion, for he only inclined his head a fraction of an inch.
"Lord Celylith. I am glad to see you so…" Dáin hesitated and finally added, "…so alive." He honestly couldn't say that the elf looked good.

Celylith fought in vain to stifle the small smile that was beginning to show on his face and he slowly began to grin. He appreciated that the dwarf didn't tell him that he looked good or better – something he seriously doubted, by the way – or asked him how he felt.

"Your Majesty is too kind." He quickly sobered and added, still surprised how weak his voice sounded, "Have … have the prince or Strider been found?"

Dáin shook his head, dark eyes looking seriously at the pale elf in front of him.
"No, I'm afraid not. We were hoping you could help us with that."

The elven warrior grimaced, disappointment and fear flittering across his face, swiftly followed by pain when he began to push himself into a more or less sitting position. Dofur took a step forward and began to protest, but the elf ignored him as if he were nothing but a chirping bird that insisted on squeaking without reason. The dwarven healer relented when it became apparent that the elf wouldn't heed his orders and stepped back again, giving his patient scathing glares and grumbling under his breath.

After some moments, Celylith opened his eyes again, deciding that, even despite the excruciating pain, it had been worth it. He now looked at the dwarves from a much more dignified position which even made him forget about the pain in his body.

"I will do what I can to find my companions," he stated quietly, blinking quickly to get rid of the growing grey spots that began to cloud his vision.

Dáin nodded, amazed by the stubbornness this one displayed. The elf sat rigidly in his bed, his face under the bruises and cuts as white as the bandage that covered his torso, swaying like grass in the wind, but his eyes were hard and determined when he looked at the three dwarves.

A small smile flittered over Celylith's face and he inclined his head minutely.
"But where are my manners." He hesitated shortly, swallowing his pride and trying to ignore the fact that these were naugrim. "Thank you for saving my life, your Majesty, and I am sure that my king would be very thankful for anything you could do to help find Prince Legolas and the ranger."

The dwarven king blinked and traded a look with Ori. That was the last thing he had expected the elf to say, but when he viewed the whole thing in this particular way, it was a very interesting idea to have the King of Mirkwood indebted to you. Dáin suppressed a small smile. He would have done all he could to find the Prince of Mirkwood and Strider anyway, and be it only to prevent a war, but to have King Thranduil owing you something, that was a thought that filled him with a warm, very gleeful feeling.

"Well," Dáin began, battling the slight grin that was threatening to spread over his face, "Of course we will do anything we can to help, Master Elf, and you are welcome. It was young Frór and his brother Frerin who found you, actually."

Celylith gulped, a vicious Quenya curse sounding in his mind. Frór – hadn't that been the one who had brought them here into this accursed hole in the ground in the first place, the one who had insulted his king? He almost closed his eyes. Wonderful, just wonderful, now he owned his life to a dwarf, and of all the hundred dwarves that populated this place, it had to be this one.

"I see," he weakly murmured, noticing that his arms that were keeping him upright were beginning to tremble with the strain of supporting his weight. He clenched his teeth; he would have to hurry if he didn't want to collapse in front of King Dáin the others. "He has my thanks, then." He returned his eyes to the king. "You don't know where they are?"

Dáin narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if there had been a sarcastic undertone in the elf's voice.
"No," he admitted. "But the tracks led South and then West, towards the western slopes of the mountain, but a few leagues from the slope we lost them. Do you know who the men were that ambushed you?"

The elf closed his eyes and shook his head uncertainly.
"Not with absolute certainty, no. But I don't think that they were the Lake-men, for that their behaviour was too organised. I think they were the third group Estel – Strider," he clarified quickly, "told you about. The ones that are probably planning to grab the treasure once the others have found it."

The dwarf grumbled something under his breath, and Celylith decided that this entire race sounded definitely like a bunch of disgruntled dogs.

"Then they will be where the treasure is," Ori commented thoughtfully. "They will be as close to their prey as possible."

Celylith nodded tiredly.
"I agree. I think that they took them to their camp, which should be on the western hangs."

Dáin looked at his councillor.
"Now we have a location."

Ori nodded, dark eyes gleaming, but before he could retort something, the silver haired elf's voice spoke up again, seemingly growing weaker by the second.
"You are planning something?"

Dáin nodded, ignoring the glacial looks he received from Dofur for keeping the elf talking for so long.
"Yes, Lord Celylith, we are. Our warriors stand at the ready; all we needed was a place to send them to. We will leave tomorrow morning." The dwarf noticed the confused look on the elf's face and added, "It is late afternoon and about a day since you left my halls."

Celylith blinked slowly, slightly surprised by this. With the ambush, his fall and the darkness of the caves he had completely lost every bit of his sense of time.

"Then you want to wait for twelve more hours before doing something?" he asked incredulously, "Do you know what these men could be doing to Prince Legolas or Strider?"

Dáin's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, prepared to say something rather impolite and not very diplomatic when he felt Ori's hand close around his arm as his advisor spoke up before he could.

"Yes, Master Celylith, we do know," he nodded seriously at the elf, meeting his irate dark blue gaze steadily, "But dwarves were not made for sneaking through a dark forest at dead of night." He decided to ignore the rather smug smile that could be seen on the elf's face and added, "If we were to move out now, we would get there when darkness had already fallen, and therefore we would lose our element of surprise. We cannot help the prince and his companion when the men know that we are coming before we have even set foot into the vicinity of their camp."

That seemed to make sense to the elf, for he nodded after a second, silver hair falling forward to frame his pale face.
"You are right," Celylith admitted, telling himself that he would not apologise to them. Definitely not. He forced his tired eyelids to remain open and attempted to recreate Lord Elrond's look. "I will accompany you."

Dáin looked at him unwillingly, but before he could voice his misgivings, Dofur took a step forwards, eyebrows knitted and eyes flashing in his old, careworn face.
"I'll be damned if I let you go anywhere in the next two weeks and ruin my stitches."

Celylith looked at the small old dwarf, attempting to raise an eyebrow but finding that it hurt too much to do so. He wanted to keep him in this cave for two weeks? He was already beginning to feel claustrophobic and trapped in here, and he had been conscious for less than an hour since he had been brought here.

"Elves heal faster than other races," he announced haughtily, almost ruining that statement's effect by toppling over and falling flat on his face when his arms threatened to give out. "I will not stay here and let you go after my friends alone."

"Yes, you will, elf," the dwarven healer insisted and glared at his king for support. "I will not allow you to get yourself killed because of that boneheaded elven stubbornness of yours!"

Celylith swallowed slowly and reminded himself that he didn't have the strength to realise the rather attractive pictures that flittered through his mind right now, namely strangling the dwarf with his own beard. It would probably be rather impolite, too .

"It is none of your business, nogotheg," he replied, not providing a translation, not that it would have been necessary. "You will not tell me what and what not to do!"

Dáin shot the two beings that glared at each other a quick look before he stepped forward, deciding that he should end this before they started hurting each other. While Dofur could be rather annoying from time to time, he was still an excellent healer and those were hard to come by, and he was rather sure that it wouldn't make a good impression on the Elvenking if his master healer strangled one of his subjects in a fit of rage, justified as it might be.

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement," he said, trying to make his voice sound as convincing and diplomatic as possible. His efforts were in vain though, for the two of them simply stopped glaring at each other and turned to glare at him instead.

Dáin grimaced slightly and quickly continued, noticing how the elf's face became paler by the second.
"We will leave early in the morning, which gives us about twelve more hours. If my healer declares you strong enough to stay on a horse tomorrow, we will take you with us as far as we are able. You will have to stay with the animals though; there is absolutely no way for you to walk more than a hundred yards, not to mention to move stealthily through a wooded area."

The dwarven king rolled his eyes at the elf's stubborn face and added,

"Scouts are being sent out as we speak. We will find their camp and bring your companions back, don't worry, but you won't help anyone if you collapse after walking a few feet."

Celylith studied the solemn face of the king for a moment, and decided after a few seconds that, somehow, inexplicably, he believed this dwarf. He didn't fully trust them, for one could never know what they were planning, but he believed that this one would do as promised.

"Alright," he conceded, finally giving in to his body's needs and allowing himself to sink back onto his mattress, "I will accept that, your Majesty."

He didn't really have another option, he thought tiredly as he watched the King of Erebor nod and, after some mumbled words that could be interpreted as a wish for him to rest comfortably, walk off, trailed by the irate healer that looked back over his shoulder now and then, giving the elf dark, reproachful glances. They began to speak in their guttural language, the healer no doubt complaining about this impossible elven patient, and as his body began to relax, causing the pain to spike again, Celylith decided that he somehow managed to antagonise every healer whose way he crossed.

He was still pondering this when he drifted off to sleep, sighing almost inaudible when the pain in his back slowly faded, and just before he lost himself in the numbing, peaceful darkness, he decided that he would not let these dwarves dictate what he did and did not do.

Legolas and Aragorn needed him, and he would not stay behind with the horses to let the smaller being deal with the ones that had abducted his friends.




'Lift a foot, set it down, lift a foot, set it down, lift a foot, set it down…'

Legolas repeated the mantra over and over again as he struggles to keep walking, inwardly rather amazed that he hadn't collapsed already. He certainly felt like doing just that, and only the thought of his human friend kept him upright and moving.
His elven strength allowed him to keep going when a mortal's would have given up a long time ago, but Legolas was beginning to see that Ilúvatar hadn't intended elven bodies to go through this kind of treatment either. Sooner or later he would reach the point where he couldn't go on, and he was beginning to suspect that it would be sooner, or in fact very soon.

He shortly stopped to regain his breath, clutching his injured arm to his chest in an attempt to deal with the pain. It had taken him a very long time to find a small, steep, stony path that led up onto the plateau, and even longer for him to climb it. With only one arm and his back ripped open, he moved at a painstakingly slow speed, but he simply couldn't move any faster. Legolas was sure that he couldn't increase his speed even if he were chased by all the demons of Morgoth combined, or his father on a bad day. Whichever was worse, right now he hadn't the strength to think about that.

The fair haired prince pushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair behind his ear, and, swaying slightly, looked around him to try and find out where he was. He had reached the small clearing at the cliff's edge about forty minutes ago, but even at his slow pace he should have reached the cave already. The quickly descending darkness did nothing to help him orientate himself either, but finally he spied the heap of fallen, snow covered rocks that lay half on the path that wound around it. That meant that he was very close to where Aragorn was, he told himself, new strength coursing through his veins at that thought.

He forced himself to start moving again, and picked up his pace as far as he was able. With one ear always listening for something that would indicate that the men had left a guard behind, he rounded the stones some time later, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the heap of sharp rocks and splintered wood that had been the cave entrance only a few hours ago.

Legolas simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at the stones, before he came put of his trance-like state. Forgetting about his injuries, he rushed forwards, carefully navigating on the stone covered ground, trying not to lose his footing. He inched as close to the blocked cave entrance as possible, looking for a way to remove the debris that was piled up there, but quickly saw that there was no way for him to move more than a couple of stones. Far too heavy and big rocks lay there in a jumbled heap, and he doubted that even a troupe of dwarves would have been able to do anything about them.

Dark, choking despair threatened to overcome his senses, but Legolas pushed it back, pressing his good hand against the stones and laying his head next to it. The sharp edges of the rocks dug into his skin, but he paid that no heed, thoroughly concentrated on hearing something, anything that might prove that Aragorn was alive and well on them other side of this wall.

He shook his head unwillingly when his own laboured breathing and wildly beating heart drowned out all sounds that might have emanated from the inside of the cave. He closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate even better.

"Aragorn!" he called. "Aragorn! Answer me! Can you hear me? Aragorn!!"

He listened as closely as he could, but there was nothing, no voice calling him, not even a moan of pain, nothing. The despair inside of his grew and intensified, and Legolas felt how tears were beginning to leak from his tightly closed eyes. Elbereth, please, this could not be!

"Estel!!" he called again. "Do not force me to tell your father and brothers of your death! Please, stubborn human, answer me! Let me know you are alive, please, Aragorn…"

Legolas pressed his head closer to the wall, tears of exhaustion and fear coursing down his cheeks as he listened intently for a sound, any sound, but there was nothing.

All there was was the deafening noise of silence, drowning out the sounds of his surroundings and leaving him alone and broken in his pain and despair.





TBC...





 naugrim - 'Stunted People', dwarves
nogotheg - dwarflet





*fake sobs* Poor, poor Legolas. He's really not very well at the moment - but at least he's alive, for now that is, of course... The question is though, is Aragorn? Or has he been squashed to jelly by the bear, which, btw, is NOT an endangered species in ME? The answer to that and other things we see in the next chapter which will probably be here on Thursday, plus/minus a day. I don't know how things are at home, so we'll see. As always, reviews are appreciated and provide me with the much needed motivation to keep writing. So: Review? Please??



Additional A/N:

A Person - Not impressed? Well, I'll have to do better next time then - you are aware that you just triggered the next round of cliffies, right? *g* And the ear was your fault? Then I can only say DAMN YOU, because it really, really hurt. You're evil. Congratulations. *g*
Mouse5 - *huggles Mouse* Thanks for saying that I'm evil, that made my day. And the other question I can answer: No, I'm not normal, I guess. Not that that's a bad thing... *g* I was thinking hard about getting them out of this particular mess as well, it is always easier to get them INTO them than OUT. But I'm getting there...
TrinityTheSheDevil - Ah, but who's counting? The cliffies, I mean? If you did, you would see that it's been a series of cliffies since Ch. 18 now - somehow I'm really in the mood lately.... *g* Well, I haven't tried roasted marshmellows yet, I've only had them in ice cream or hot chocolate or something. They were quite nice there, though. And you're welcome to roast Geran of course, but _after_ I've finished the fic, if possible. *glares threateningly* Understood?
Firniswin - *grins sheepishly* Well, about the cliffies - I'm sorry? I'm just on a roll right now, and somehow the chapters all end as cliffies. I don't know why either, but I'm sure it's not my fault. Thanks for your reviews!
Gwyn - *nods* I know. It was more a cliff-faller or a cliff-jumper or something like that - but it involved a cliff and an abrupt ending, so that's enough for me. *g* Thanks for your well wishes, the ear's better now. It's so nice not to eat painkillers like candy for a change... *g*
Sheila - Thank you! It's very nice to see a new reviewer, and it's nice to hear that you like my weird, insane, demented little stories. Thank you for your kind words and your review, which always help to make me update. Thanks!
Maranwe1 - *hangs head* I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil anything, I just couldn't help myself, and I was on antibiotics and painkillers... *sniffs* Sorry. And yes, the men should be VERY scared by now, if they were sensible, which they are not, obviously. Their problem, they will see what comes of that... *g* The Valar probably are laughing - I was at least, well, perhaps not exactly laughing, but rather grinning evilly. You're writing a 40-words-essay? I guess you mean 40 pages? That's quite long, yes... And I will gladly read your story as soon as I have a bit time, but the problem is that I don't at the moment. I have barely enough time to write and post, and for reading there's not much left - I haven't even had time to have a look at Cassia's new one! And that means something...
Firnsarnien - Well, you know me and cliffies - I simply cannot resist! And the CLF shouldn't be complaining - he's alive, isn't he? No-cliffies was no part of the deal! And that sock can't possibly be mine, because due to the hot weather I haven't worn socks for the past few weeks. *sticks out tongue* Ha! *reads paragraph in review* Hmmmm, why would my readers not like me? I have no idea, none at all... *innocent grin*
Leggylover03 - Well, why did I know you would love the Aragorn pain? Oh, that's a tricky question, I really don't know... *g* I guess everyone will be avenging everyone! They all get a chance to, I guess...
Eva27 - Oh, I know what you mean. That's the reason why I put a password in my screensaver... *g* Once I came back from college to find a huge poster of D. Boreanaz (=Angel) as a wallpaper. I don't like him to begin with, but the picture was ... interesting. Of the barely clothed sort. It was a horrible experience... *shudders* And I put in a curse in the next chapter, just for you - even though it's neither very creative nor sounds very fearsome in Elvish, but it took me half an hour to formulate it correctly! *grumbles* Don't you just hate all that nasal mutation, soft mutation & Co.?
Cestari - Great you liked the Glorfindel scene, I like it quite a bit myself... He's just adorable, out dear golden haired elf. *huggles him* Thanks for all your nice reviews! It's great to get so much nice feedback!
Carrie - I love the twins and Glorfindel too, they are wonderful! I mainly put the scene in because I missed writing them, I just couldn't stand it anymore... *begins to sob* Need - my - twins! *gets a grip* Well, in the next story, I guess. LOL, a 'nice' bear? Like the goat which raised Zeus and the wolf which raised Romulus and Remus? Well, it was a nice idea, but no... *g* Yes, Celylith has bad nightmares, but I just couldn't resist! If I am not allowed to kill him, then I have to give him some mental angst! Thank you for your kind words, and I couldn't write an entirely serious paragraph to save my life. It's just not possible, I somehow always come up with these stupid things someone could think or say... *shrugs* Ah well. Nothing I can do about that.
Brethil, Estelle - Believe me, I live with the constant feat that, somehow, my readers DO find me and get their own back for the cliffies. That would not be so good, really... Thanks, the ear is in fact better! Thank you Ibuprofen! *kisses her painkillers*
Fliewatuet - Well, it wasn't exactly an illness, more an evil, sneaky infection that had decided that my ear looked like a wonderful spot to settle down and multiply - but my faithful friend, Anti B. Otics, took care of that... *rereads sentence* Gosh, did I just write that? I'm still a bit ... odd, huh? LOL, the 'Evil Author' (TM)? That is an interesting idea, am I a trademark now? *coughs as she reads the Geran-perforates-Legolas-bit* Eh ... what? Me? Perforate elven warriors? Never...
Sirithiliel - Celylith is indeed in a dreadful situation, and Legolas is none too happy right now - especially since the poor guy doesn't even know that his friend isn't dead... *sighs* Poor elf. Thanks for your review!
Grumpy - I have no idea why you all thought of a dwarf, probably because you thought I am a nice person and would let Aragorn get out of this easily - Mhahaha! Not really! *g* Ears are indeed very unforgiving in their pain. *grumbles* Oh yes, they are, if I didn't need you I'd cut you off, would serve you right...
Halo - It was SO nice seeing you! *huggles* And the movie was really good too! Sorry for not writing sooner, but I'm really not much online lately, to be honest, not at all. And I WILL GET THE DVD! I can't stand it anymore! I must havessss it, preciousssss... And I will get it, I'll go to London tomorrow, so I'll just get it there... *g* Yes, Aragorn IS horribly, horrifically ... hurt, but you know that nothing 'serious' will happen to him, so what's your problem? *g*
Coreinha - *sighs* There she goes again... *grabs Celylith out of Cor's pocket* Will you stop that? You guys... Great you didn't expect the bear! That was why I put it in, my thoughts exactly: Who had a bear yet? Not many people, I believe... And the Ibuprofen didn't make me see elephants, it just made me incredibly sleepy, the whole light-headed-thing was the antibiotics' fault, perhaps in combination with the Ibuprofen, I dunno. I never take painkillers, I think I have taken 5 in the past five or six years, so I have no experience with them. You're on drugs too? Poor thing! *huggles Cor*
E - Sorry again, I didn't want to spoil it. I was not really thinking, and was so excited that I had finally written a cliffHANGER, at least more or less... Sorry. Yes, Aragorn has to live to be 210 and Legolas has to pass into the West, but what if I make this A/U? Well? Ever thought about that? *g* And I think that Groin, or Gróin, whichever you prefer, was Gloin's (or Glóin's) father, therefore Gimli's grandfather. *runs off to check it* He won't be in this story though, sorry.
Aratfeniel - LOL, 'very, very bruised' doesn't even begin to cover it... No, how did you know that? That Celylith will want to get up before the healers allow him to? You are psychic or something.. *g* Thanks a lot for all your reviews!
Bec - Yep, I AM feeling better! *dances to prove it* See? Lots better! And nope, to have one character in mortal danger is not enough, you need as least two to make it interesting, and if you have three or four it gets enjoyable... *evil grin* I hope the update was fast enough for you!
Bailey - It weren't three cliffies in one, more like two. Right? It wasn't that bad... I am really sorry for posting so late last chapter, and hope that this is soon enough to appease you a bit. Yes?
CrazyLOTRfan - Finally, someone who liked the cliffhanger/Legolas-jumps-off-the-cliff-bit! Thanks! *huggles* Your good friend, Tylenol Extra Strength? That does sound very much like MY good friend, Ibuprofen Extra Strong! *g* You are having a look at forest fires? *wide-eyed* Uhm, alright, if you enjoy things like that - I hope your house (and computer) didn't burn down!
LOTRFaith - Of course Nili's gonna kill the bad guys, otherwise YOU people would get really cross with me, huh? And yes, the dwarves are coming to the rescue, it just takes them some time, I guess - they're dwarves, after all... I am a Master Mind? *beams* Thank you! That's a very nice thing to say! Thanks! And the ear's better too, thanks again!
XsilicaX - Aww, you worked for nine hours and still write a review! That's so sweet, thank you! *huggles her* LOL, yes indeed, it IS cruel irony - you gotta love it, huh? Oh, I DO enjoy being evil... *g* The 'spider enticing prey into web dance'? That's interesting, somehow I can picture it pretty well... And yes, I guess Celylith might be a bit mentally damaged if he ever gets out of that mountain. *nods* Yes, preciousss, he will be... Thank you very much for pointing these things out to me, why does no-one else do that? How am I supposed to learn if people don't tell me? *shakes random reader* HOW???
Imbefaniel - You're crying a lot lately? That IS bad, really, and can be rather embarassing, I imagine. And then you got carsick too, poor thing. *huggles Imbafaniel carefully* Hope everything's a bit better now, thanks a lot for your reviews!
Amelie - Gosh, I do feel lucky - and honoured! Only five minutes on the computer and you use them to write a review for me? That's so sweet - thanks! And now that you pointed it out, I guess that everybody goes 'thud' in this story quite a lot - poor them. And it wasn't Celylith's fault that his sister's fiancée died, even though he blamed himself - they all do that, don't they? It was Amaran's own fault, he should have been more careful, even though it's somehow understandable that he wasn't... And yes, Celylith's face will heal, IF he survives the story in the first place, that is.... J/K! Jeez, it was a joke, put down that sledgehammer! Now!
Alilacia - I'm sorry about the cliffies, but they just happen lately - my alter ego, you know how she is... Celylith truly isn't a very happy elf right now, and neither is Legolas - I think nobody is particularly happy in this chapter! *gasp* You haven't been to the British Museum? I go there every time I get to visit London, but then again, I DO study History, so I guess I have to go... And I resent the last comment, I am not insane! I am merely different. *g*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - That's why I put it in, because bears have rarely been used, I think. I like to keep things interesting... *evil grin* Great you still like it, thanks a lot for the review!
Vampy2k - *g* It was my pleasure! I never really wanted to kill him anyway... Thanks for reviewing!
Sirith - Well, if you hate cliffies, I have the bad feeling that you won't be feeling so happy right now ... I'm sorry! But I do love them - if I write them, that is... And why don't you like my chasing pink elephants? *huggles her elephants* They're adorable, really!
Zam - LOL, what do I think you are? Are you really ready for that answer, Zam? You might not like it... *g* Hmmm... bathroom=Badezimmer, Merry Christmas=Froehliche Weihnachten, I love you=Ich liebe dich. *nods contently* Now you know how to spell it, not that you really wanted to, probably... And I essentially told her to hit you and Lina as hard as she could and not worry about the consequences since you _deserved_ it. That was the essence of it, yes. Whatever... That flashback scene did have a purpose! I missed the twins and needed to bring them back for a short scene, that was the purpose! Besides, it was cute, you're right there... *g* Argh! Back! Back, evil girl! *grabs her and drags her away from Celylith* He's HURT, for cryin' out loud! You can't just 'savagely huggle' him! And he's in a lot of pain - so he isn't really in the mood to be polite to _dwarves_... *runs off to escape Zam's wrath*
TrustingFriendship - Uhm, no I don't think you need a prescription for my dear friend Ibuprofen Extra Strong - even though you probably should, since it _is_ pretty powerful... And yes, given the men's intelligence they probably will fall for Leglas' little trick, but the not-too-hurt-bit ... Eh, gottagobye? I am so glad you still like it, thanks so much for all your reviews! *huggles*
Lembas7 - Well, the rest is - not written yet? I used to be three to four chapters ahead, but since I haven't had enough time to write here, I am down to one and a half... *grumbles* Good thing it's finished soon... You DO sound a little bit like Yoda, yes, but that's no problem, I love every reviewer and new ones particularly! *huggles* Yeah, I'm not into Slash myself, I mean, I don't flame them or anything, even though I sometimes want to, especially when they write stories like Aragorn-forgets-about-Arwen-and-Legolas-promptly-gives-up-his-immortality-for-him - which he could not, even if he wanted to. *shakes head* Have these people even take ONE look at the books? Whatever, thank you very much for all your compliments, and thanks for reviewing too! They DO inspire me!
LOTRMatrixStarwarsfan - *g* Right. It's all Aragorn's own fault for being so charming and attractive, what is he thinking? *g* And can you blame Legolas for not feeling very cheerful right now? I mean, I think I would get concerned if he _were_ cheerful... *blushes furiously* Thanks! I like compliments, even thought they give me delusions of grandeur! *huggles* Thanks! No Prozac needed, the ear's better, the elephants are caught and are in the bathroom for now, and what did you say? *points at ear* Up-what? You want a post? What's that supposed to mean, I can't hear you... *g*
Tapetum Lucidum - Right. Who wants to learn about the Second Punic War when one can be torturing elves and rangers? LOL, he has a nice warm blanky? Well, yes, I guess you could say that, even thought the blanky weights a bit more than the usual ones, hm? Glad you liked the 'teeth-line', I was chuckling myself when I wrote that - it's always nice to hear that someone else likes my favourite lines... The delegation to Mirkwood is a good idea, the problem though is that even in good weather it would take at least five days to get there and the same to get back, so no matter what they do, they'll be too late. *shrugs* Poor them.
Marbienl - An internet café which doesn't have Word? That's pathetic, really... But it's sweet you go there to send the review, thanks! Uhm, did I mention that I am immune to hypnosis? Doesn't work on me, sorry... And I DO have a social life, unfortunately - that's why I can't update so frequently right now. Thanks btw, the ear's better. I can hear again, most of the time, that is. And bears are not an endangered species in ME, there are lots of them. How I know that? I am the omniscient author, don't argue with me! And don't worry, I will come up with a death for Hanar. He does deserve death for hurting our favourite ranger... *evil grin* *tired sigh* PLEASE stop giving him Red Bull! He's unconscious, can't you see that? He will suffocate ... stop it! LOL, yes, Geran has to die. He didn't really know what he was doing, I think... Legolas' head as a trophy on the wall? Okay, seriously disturbing picture here... And, alright, it _did_ sound fatherly, but he was barely conscious and I guess that was the reason why the dwarf healer said it. He isn't acting very fatherly in the future, believe me. *g* You know the dwarven battle yell? Not many people know it, but I think I'll put it in. I looked it up when I started writing the story, so I might as well. And yes. The M in my second name is for Melkor. *g*
Strider's Girl - *beams* I'm the Queen of Evilness? Wow, that's so sweet! Thank you very much! I admit that the three of them are not doing too well, right now, but things could be worse, right? Things can always get worse, so they should be grateful! My evil side is far too strong to defeat though - I sometimes manage to subdue her for a chapter or two, but that's it. Sorry. LOL, 'your Evilness', I like that!
Reginabean - Of course Celylith is alive, and if he's lucky he might even stay that way for a chapter or two - j/k! Really! It was a joke, calm down, Jeez... You posted a story? Yay! *confetti falls from ceiling - I borrowed that from Zam* Unfortunately right now it DOES interfere with my writing, since I am about five minutes online a day, and have absolutely no time reading stories - I haven't even started C&S' new one! That's how little time I have! *sobs* It's just horrible... So, as soon as I have a little time, I promise to have a look at it, but right now I just can't, sorry. I'm sure it's great though!
Lina - LOL, yes, there's something much more sinister than a pack of wargs in the cave - it's a LINA! Run for your lives! *g* And the image of you wrestling the bear is interesting, to say the least, and somehow I just can imagine it - which is rather alarming... You tickled it to death? That's cruel, Lina! The poor thing! How could you! Please give my regards to Éomer, congrats on keeping you at bay for a chapter! It's hard work, we all know that...
Critternut - The spear wasn't a spear per se, but a splintered piece of wood that was tipped and therefore _looked_ like a spear. It wasn't a real one. Well ... that he could eat the bear is an interesting idea, even though it might prove to be a bit hard to skin it without a knife or something, no? *coughs and looks innocent* What, Legolas' fall could BREAK something? Now, whatever gave you that idea? *g* Yes, this chappie has lots of Legolas angst, never fear! *wide-eyed* Uhm your weekend sounds interesting, to say the least. Very interesting, yes...
NaughtyNat - LOL, Pooh Bear waiting for him? Nah, somehow I have the feeling it wouldn't have been very threatening, or what do you think? Great you liked that little scene, at that moment I was really missing the twins and just had to put them in somehow, and a flashback was the only way I could think of. And I am thinking about putting Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel in the next story, especially Glorfindel. I promised Cathy and wouldn't want to break that promise, she might kill me. She really might. I just have to think of a reason for them being where they would be.... I'll think of something, I guess. I still haven't got TTT DVD, but I will tomorrow! Yay Nili, I can hardly wait - even though I downloaded it ages ago...
Aron - You know, the more I think about it, the more I really think that Legolas is C-3PO in disguise! I mean, look at R2-D2! He's short, just like Gimli! That's the ultimate proof! *g* Yes, an invisibility cloak would be quite useful sometimes, I agree... I have to admit I never sa it that way ... Aragorn should actually THANK me for putting him into that cave with only a bear, you're right! Poor Aragorn indeed, he's not having a very good time at the moment... Yup, Geran IS a little bit stupid, isn't he? I mean, touching Legolas' bow and expecting to live? Idiot man... LOL, 'reality complete with dwarves', indeed! And I have to admit that your suggestion of hiding in the darkest, deepest cavern there is in the Lonely Mountain sounds very good, and sensible! I would do that if I were you, Dáin!
TigerLily713 - Hmm, why do I keep hurting them ... because I'm evil and twisted and _enjoy_ doing it? And because that's what you people want to read? Admit it! Thanks for all your reviews!
Alisha B - I'm sure it was FF.net's fault, it is ALWAYS FF.net's fault. It's a law of nature, that's what it is. And you're right, wolfs and wargs and orcs and things like that _are_ a little bit overdone, even though I still have that idea for the cave troll that ... but that's another story. *g* I agree, btw. A sloth would have finished him off, he should be grateful it was only a brown bear! YOUR elf list sounds very interesting indeed! Well, mine is changing quite a lot too, but right now there are Elladan/Elrohir (they get one number), Glorfindel, Fëanor and Elrond. Legolas just can't compete with them, in my opinion... *g* You know, I might still clone Celylith, since he seems to have become quite popular with the readers, which is understandable, since he's adorable. *huggles weakly resisting elven warrior* I hope this is soon enough so you can read it before you go back, I hope you still have fun in your first week! And I was only two days late, much better than YOU! *g*
Ellyrianna - And how would Rashwe have got out of the camp and into the cave? That would have been no small feat even for a demon-horse like Rashwe... *g* *blushes* Well, what can I say ... thank you? Thanks a lot for all your very nice compliments! And ... *grabs unconscious ranger* ... get your own! He's mine, my own, my preciousssss! You can't have him! I need him to lie under that bear and look pitiful - he's very good at that... *g* Your threat is very scary indeed, so here's the update! Thanks a lot for the review!
Nikara - Thanks a lot, I do feel better. My friend Ibuprofen made everything a lot easier, too. *g* Somehow it just happened, to be honest I never intended to have Legolas jump off that cliff. He was just too slow at climbing down, and I got impatient... *shrugs* You know the rest. LOL, you might be right there! I think I can start the sequel about ten years after this one, that should be the time they're allowed out on their own again!

*eats as much Mint Sauce, Shepherd's Pie and Bacon Sandwiches as she can* Must - eat - before - I - leave... *g* Uhm, that was a bit off-subject, I guess. Thanks a lot for all your wonderful reviews! You know I do love them, right?