*Siri returns…but thanks for staying anyway*
*big hugs for everyone* Thank you for the fabulous reviews! I'm SO glad you are enjoying our story!
BIG NOTE FOR EVERYONE: *blushes* Okay, so we plain goofed with dear Butterbur and Nob, just one of those things that we didn't think through properly. However one or two little changes got that all fixed up! *grins* If you'd like to see what we changed check back at the previous chapter to see! =D Thank you everyone who pointed out our little mistake! =D
Lurker_Elf: Actually yes! That is ol' Bill Ferny senior! Seems that Aragorn never got on too well with the Fernys ;D Ah yes two loons! Of course who's the more loony, the loon or the loon who follows him? ;) Thank you! I'm afraid I had a *little* too much fun with dear Butterbur! =D *laughs* Poor Frodo, he really didn't deserve to get dragged into this *grins* Though I agree, the similarities are a little too 'amusing' to avoid! 'Gratuitous dead guy'? LOL! Yeah you could say that ;) *laughs* VERY true, evil jewelry seems to follow him! Hearkening back to the second chapter it was mentioned as being Sauron's emissaries who were sent to search for the rumored 'last heir of Isuldor'…nasty fellow Sauron. ;) *giggles* NICE SONG! =D
Cassia: *laughs* LOL! That sounds a LOT like Sarah and I! I'm constantly smiling innocently (and albeit sheepishly) when I hand over these scenes, but she too puts up with it remarkably well! *hugs her dear sister* Isn't she great?! =D LOL! If it makes you feel better my name IS Hannah! ;) and if you count Chloe that means that it's two C's and two S's! =D *laughs* Actually when we started to write this story I begged Sarah to let me write this scene because I'd decided I was going to almost make Aragorn join Frodo and I HADN'T TOLD SARAH! *grins* Some times a 'practical joke' between authors can be awfully fun! =D Yes that was a VERY creepy idea for me when I read that! Just hand to include it in a story! :D Hope you are…enjoying contours! ;D
Mariana Nemeneth: Died? Well, no, actually, but you're about to find that ;) He just sort of drifts in and out of semi-lucidity, total insanity and absolute silence. Oh Legolas tries, but he didn't have a lot of warning this time ;)
Lina Skye: *laughs* Hey Lina! Missed you! I can totally understand the business thing! *rolls eyes* Bar brawl. How terribly helpful of you Lina ;) Ah yes…uh…thank you Lina, you gonna let Raane up now? *laughs and waves* See you Lina! Legolas seems determined to get rid of you I'm afraid ;D
Annaril: Well the reason Raane went crazy is that he was trying to control Nwalmai — to release them, etc. The Dúnedain only encounter them as their enemies (i.e. they only fight them).
Hiro-tyre: I'm glad you liked Helin! We also felt very sorry for her! Oooh! Very interesting speculation! =D Yeah! You know having ringing bells might make things easier for Elrond, he'll have a slightly easier time with preparations for their return ;) Yes well, orcs have never been meant for anything other than fighting, killing, pleasing their evil blood lusts, typical in this case manages to be bad enough! ;) OH! I'm glad you liked our Butterbur! He was really fun to write!
Maranwe: *laughs* Well withholding information is supposed to make it….interesting ;) I have NO idea what a patient glare looks like on Aragorn, but I have a sort of mental picture and that description implies quite the expression. Sort of a 'well, you're driving me crazy, but I didn't really expect you to do anything else either'. ;) Lindamar…*laughs* I'm sorry you'll just have to wait and see! *grins*
Lady Sandry: Unfortunately what Raane is thinking can be quite unpredictable! LOL! Yes Aragorn is, indeed VERY dangerous! =D Oh, well that part was referring back to a Cassia and Siobhan story 'First Meetings' when they had Legolas and Aragorn first meet up with one another; sorry if that was confusing! =) Yes, in the movie they had him wearing it all the time, including in the Prancing Pony, so we decided to let him have it here…nice timing huh? ;)
Sio: OH! *hugs* It' so good to 'see' you! I'm glad you are enjoying the story! Thanks! We really enjoyed writing Bree and the Pony and all the occupants, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up :D
Belothien: Thank you! I'm glad you liked the hobbits! In light of the fact that we won't get many chances to write hobbits in the future we were really happy to get to here! =D Well, as for Eression going to Bree, Aragorn was mostly going on the possibility that, given the lack of such places in the area, the man may have come to the town for supplies or a break in his journey. I think he was mainly thinking it would be a likely enough place to start. *laughs* Oh I doubt you missed anything Belothien… the Lindamar thing is just as confusing as it sounds ;)
Thank you again faithful readers! I hope you enjoy the next chapter! =D
*Siri skips off the story*
______________________________________________________________________________
Darkest Night
By Sarah and Hannah (Siri)
(disclaimers, explanations, and summaries
available at the top of chapter 1)
Chapter 10
Among the Barrows
Aragorn started slightly as Legolas laid a hand on his shoulder. The human turned his eyes up to his friend's and searched them for a moment. Then, giving a short nod, he rose and turned to Helin.
"I am sorry if we have disturbed you and brought unrest to your brother, Helin," the ranger spoke with more calm than he felt.
Helin, who had been staring fixedly at Raane, turned back to Aragorn and stood quickly, shaking her head. "N-No, I am sorry you were forced to witness him in such a state… I thought he would never have such a moment again." She turned her gaze back to her brother for only a moment before smiling at them weakly and following them to the door.
Before Legolas and Aragorn turned away from the dwelling Aragorn took one of Helin's hands in his own and looked her steadily in the eyes.
"I sincerely hope that you and Raane will be relieved of your suffering. I know not what evil may have possessed him, but I do know that it has robbed both of you of something dear, and for that I can only give my deepest regret." Aragorn could think of no more to say but already the woman's pale green eyes glimmered with tears.
"I thank you sir." Helin smiled at last and when he released her hand she closed the door on the hurting home, leaving the two friends in the shadows of growing night.
Aragorn turned at last away from the door. Legolas could see that his friend was distressed by the encounter and wished dearly that he could offer some manner of support. To admit the truth, the ordeal had unsettled him as well and it left him strangely drained as though he had just battled a servant of the shadow all alone. He knew Aragorn must be feeling the same way and likely more so.
Legolas decided to let his friend speak first and not to rush anything as they moved back down the streets of Bree.
"He has been to the tower we seek, I doubt that not in the least now," Aragorn said at last, and Legolas who nodded in agreement.
"Yes, and has seen the Nwelmai. Most certainly he and Qualin were the ones who tried to release them when you were young."
"It appears that way." Aragorn went strangely quiet again for a long time before speaking again. "Elladan and Elrohir are in that tower," he whispered, stopping in his tracks and not meeting Legolas' gaze. "Who can know what vile shadows brought Raane to this state?"
Legolas reached out and touched his friend gently on arm, bringing the words to a halt. He waited until Aragorn looked up at him. "Estel, there are many things still a mystery right now, but from what I can see Raane became this way because he tried to wield a power too great for him and failed. Your brothers are strong, they will resist such evil with all their might. And be assured: they will conquer it. We can do naught by continuing to worry for their safety; all we can do now is continue on our way and never stop searching until we find them."
Aragorn nodded and shut his eyes for a moment, breathing in the damp night air deeply. When they were opened again Legolas could see a calm had come over his friend once more and he smiled.
"Thank you Legolas, mellon nin," Aragorn gripped Legolas' forearm and he shook his head. "Ilúvatar only knows what I would do without you."
The elf smiled back before they both returned once more to their path, heading now determinedly towards the gate by way of a long ally.
"Where will we go next?" Legolas queried, catching his friend's suppressed sigh as the rain began to fall once more.
"That is one question I can easily answer," Aragorn replied, bringing his hood back up over his head. "Raane spoke again of that book, which now seems to be the possible answer to this mystery. I believe that whatever that book contains must be important to us, though whether that belief is the result of foresight or mere conjecture, I do not know."
"But where do we search for it?" Legolas questioned. "I understood that Raane and his companion removed it from the tower, but it could be anywhere."
"No," Aragorn shook his head. "Not anywhere. Raane also spoke of dead souls, the Wights, the barrows, and an archway. We must travel to the Barrow Downs to seek out the book."
Legolas did not recognize the name but he could easily catch the grim tone in the ranger's voice. "The Barrow Downs?" he frowned
"The tombs of Numenoreans. The dead buried there were brought to life by the vile specters of Angmar after its fall. They live beneath downs where their treasure is hoarded, and woe to the man who falls prey to them. Few ever return once they are taken down by the wights."
Legolas felt as though a long shadow had fallen across both of them and he let out a long breath before speaking, "Why, my friend, must we always traverse the most dangerous of roads, taking always the path which is the most crooked and uncertain?"
Aragorn laughed mirthlessly at that, "I assume it is because we both of us strive for too much adventure."
Legolas rolled his eyes, "I ceased striving for such things quite some time ago; danger always seems to come to me."
"Indeed," Aragorn nodded, "it is a great fool who seeks out trouble in dangerous places…don't you agree?"
Legolas thought for a moment that Aragorn was talking to him, but a second later the ranger made a complete about-face and Legolas heard a startled cry. Turning he found his friend holding a small boy by the wrists. One of the boy's hands was halfway into Aragorn's coat pocket, but it was quickly jerked out as the child looked up at the man who held him.
Sodden by rain with brilliant eyes just barely gleaming beneath his hood, Aragorn's tall and powerful form was quite menacing. The boy, who was a good deal smaller with wide brown eyes and a shock of auburn hair, seemed to shrink and cower before the ranger.
"You are likely to find you are better received by strangers when you do not try to pick their pockets," Aragorn's voice was quiet and firm. Almost immediately the boy began to stammer his apology, letting the words tumble over one another.
"I—I'm sorry sir, I didn' mean to… I can't… I don't have no food is all and I… don' hurt me! I-I never meant…. Please, I'm sorry, sir! Truly sorry!"
Legolas glanced from one to the other and hid a smile as his friend bent to the boy's level and met him right in the eye, stilling the torrent of words. "If you had wanted something from me, you had only to ask me."
The child gave a slow nod and when Aragorn still did not release him he stuttered timidly, "Please…d'you have any- anything you could spare me?" Aragorn's demeanor instantly changed and he at last released the boy's wrists and took out several coins, handing them to the boy. The child immediately disappeared, not waiting one moment longer than he had to. Aragorn turned a glance to Legolas who was no longer hiding his laughter.
"You really have a unique way with children, Strider."
Aragorn shook his head, glancing in the direction the boy had fled, "I very much doubt he will try such a thing again."
"As do I," Legolas agreed wryly as the two left Bree by way of the gate. "Of course he may never approach a stranger again at all, even for a pleasant exchange of greetings," he added.
"There are times when having a commanding manner can be helpful," Aragorn defended himself with a smile. "Even if the chance does not come about often for a ranger."
"No, I entirely agree with that," Legolas took a step took to the side. "But it really is no wonder halflings find you so daunting."
Aragorn gave his friend a tolerant glare and feigned a step in the elf's direction before laughing and shaking his head as the rain began to gain force. Legolas joined him back on the path and the two friends continued on their chosen road, to they could only guess what dangers.
The Greenway carried its name well in the wetness; the damp grass that had begun to take over the old road rippled slightly in the fitful breeze. The horses moved at a steady gait, ignoring both the rain and the mud that it was creating.
"Well, my friend," Legolas said lightly, readjusting his hood so that the water ran down the back of his cloak instead of into his eyes, "I have come to a favorable conclusion concerning the Dúnedain."
Aragorn said nothing, merely raised his eyebrows.
"Your near constant state of disarray is largely the fault of this damp country of yours."
"How magnanimous," Aragorn nodded gravely. "'Largely', you say? What about the smaller portion of our slovenliness?"
"That, I fear, is due to your species," Legolas teased with equal gravity, shaking his head mournfully. "Men simply attract dirt."
"How helpful," this time the human rolled his eyes to hide a sneaking smile. "Have you any more gems of elven wisdom to pass on, or shall I take this opportunity to explain that such rain as we have had over these past weeks is unusual in these parts?"
"Branch, Strider," the elf replied, and it took Aragorn a split second to realize that his friend was referring to the trees they were now passing through. Turning forward, he just had time to duck a low hanging pine bough before it swept him from his saddle.
"You don't need any more mud on you," Legolas shook his head in an unconscious imitation of Celboril.
"My thanks," the ranger chuckled, "your concern is dear to me. I defy Lindamar to provide such solicitude! There ahead: we are nearing the downs."
Legolas peered ahead, distracted again from the strange name, his vision obscured by the fog that was beginning to roll in with the breeze. It tore as it passed between the trees, rippling by in tatters before melding again into a white whole. The horse nickered briefly, shifting its feet in the unsubstantial quagmire that had wafted around its fetlocks.
Slowly the Barrow Downs melted away by shades, each breath of mist taking away another layer of depth, and the air now grew almost painfully still with the last gusts of wind doing little but swirling the fog about. All hopes that this was a passing condition vanished along with the rolling shapes of the downs themselves.
"And what now are the chances of us seeing that archway of Raane's?" Legolas sighed.
Aragorn's eyes grew gray as the fog about him, a sign he was deep in thought. He shook himself slightly, feeling the damp seep through his cloak. "I ought to have worn my overcoat instead," he noted absently.
The elf's eyebrows arched as he shot a glance over his shoulder at his friend, but he refrained from any teasing comments. The time for jesting had come to an end as swiftly as the mist had wrapped about them.
"We cannot wait," the ranger decided at last. "We will angle towards the north; that is where he and his friend must have entered the downs if they were trying to return home. Besides, I have seen monuments of the sort he described: they are large and easily seen."
"Nothing will be easily seen out there today," Legolas demurred, but started his horse forward readily, keeping the tail of Aragorn's mount in view ahead of him to prevent them being separated.
It was easy to lose track of time on the downs. Very soon it was only the horses' unwavering sense of direction that connected them to the rest of the world. Behind them somewhere must lie the town of Bree: Helin would be cooking either the noon or the evening meal for her brother and perhaps wondering what had become of the odd strangers she had met earlier in the day; a distance ahead of them, if Legolas had understood correctly, lay the Old Forest. But in both directions neither sight nor sign of either place could be detected. Whiteness, muffling like damp wool, enveloped them. Sometimes a window of empty space would open for a moment, revealing yet another stretch of grass, or the rise of one of the barrows to their left or right. Once a single pillar, like a warning finger, rose suddenly before them, but Aragorn took one look and guided his horse wide around it.
Legolas' own steed, borrowed from the Dúnedain, seemed little concerned by the mist itself and kept a straight course, only showing signs of nervousness when they passed too close to a barrow. Perhaps it was the anxiety of the animal, or the last vestiges of weariness from his encounter with Raane, but the elf found himself imagining figures standing just beyond his vision. Once he brought his horse to a halt and turned quickly in his saddle, feeling sure he had seen someone out of the corner of his eye, but it was only the distant outline of another stone monument — and it was half a dozen stones standing in a ring, not the archway that they sought. Turning forward again, he had been startled for a moment to catch no sight of his friend, but when he urged his mount suddenly forward, Aragorn's back once more materialized before him.
Aragorn himself was dangerously mired in his own thoughts. Again and again he roused himself, knowing the danger of loosing track of his surroundings, but it was difficult to stay alert when there was nothing to be vigilant towards. Nothing, that is, except an occasional monument. These he had seen up close only a few times before and always in the daylight. The rangers did not often linger at the burial places of their ancestors.
Conversation was impossible between the two companions. There was a vague fear between them that they might be incapable of speech in this place, even should they need to warn of some impending danger or call for help.
Then, at the moment when Aragorn began to feel sure they would soon come to the end of the downs having found nothing, Legolas gave a soft cry and pointed. To their left, through a rift in the fog, a tall, black archway could be seen: a door from nothing onto nothing. As before the horses began to nicker softly with nervousness and the elf and ranger dismounted, each whispering to their steeds to wait. The Dúnedain, like the elves of whom they had learned much, had trained their horses to serve them well and the animals remained at the base of the mound.
Climbing up the sloping sides of the barrow, Legolas slid out his knives carefully and glanced about, wondering if the view would be clearer when they were higher up. It was not. The top of the barrow was wide and flat, punctuated only by the archway at the center. Aragorn moved slowly towards it, checking about in the grass for some sign of previous disturbance.
Behind him Legolas could hear the horses shifting in agitation. Once a short whinny began and then was stifled into a low snuffling sound as the animal responsible chewed at its bit. The elf's head moved quickly from side to side, his knives still at the ready, trying to be sure nothing came upon them while Aragorn was distracted with his searching. A heavy blackness seemed close about him, partly physical and partly… He started, turning completely around in response to a half-perceived movement behind him. Nothing. //Do I now fear ghosts?// he wondered in annoyance with himself. And yet Aragorn had not spoken of ghosts, but of other far fouler things living amongst these old tombs.
Turning back to follow his friend, Legolas felt a hand like ice close round his throat and darkness fell.
Aragorn approached the archway warily, gazing up the dark, stone pillars and over the crosspiece above him. There was no sign of anyone having been there before him. Smooth grass stood pale and wet beneath the mist. Had he truly expected the book to be lying upon the ground expecting him? He sighed, resting a hand upon lintel of the strange doorway.
"Legolas," he turned about to the dim figure of his friend behind him, "I've been a fool."
The figure let out a hissing sound, as if its foot had been trodden upon, and replied softly, "Yes, you have."
Aragorn's hand flew to his sword, but then he was caught from behind by grasping hands and felt the world dissolving about him. Distantly there came the sounds of the horses whinnying in terror, and then hooves pounding the turf as they fled. //Where is Legolas?// he wondered frantically, and then knew no more.
Cold. Cold was the first sensation. But it was cold as he had never experienced… it went deep and nestled within his heart. //Where am I?//
His eyes opened with painful slowness, as if they were weighted by lead or ice. Faintly he blinked, trying to clear his mind, but there was a haze there. Who was he? *Strider, because of his haughty gait…* Legolas! The person speaking was Legolas! But there was no one speaking; it was only a memory. His hand shifted upon his breast and he wondered when he had laid it there. Aragorn. He was Aragorn. And where then was Legolas?
It was green all about him, he now realized. Green like poison, and the air was stale as if no living thing had ever breathed it. Still, beside him, he felt another's presence. Shifting his head, he began to discern shapes out of the greenness: a familiar face was lying close to his own, its eyes closed and its lips sealed in a distant expression. Legolas. The elf was wearing white robes down to his feet and his hands rested as did Aragorn's upon his breast, crossed one over the other. The ranger too was wearing clothing not his own, and though weapons hung upon the walls, his own sword was not among them. About both companions lay in shadowed piles the riches that had been buried within the tomb, but no sight of the body that ought to have been resting there.
As if his surroundings were only coming in slow stages, Aragorn now began to hear a voice speaking above him: a low hissing voice that he could remember having spoken only once.
"…In the black wind the stars shall die,
And still on gold here let them lie,
Till the dark lord lifts his hand
Over dead sea and withered land."
From the shadows to their right a stooping figure could only faintly be seen, standing just beyond the sickly light, stooping to lift a long sword from the ground. Aragorn's heart began to beat suddenly faster, warming his chilled body and sending feeling to his limbs. It was a barrow wight! Foolish indeed he had been to linger even for a few moments upon the height of the barrow in so thick a fog! And what of his friend? Had the incantation frozen him beyond waking?
While the wight was still stooped, muttering ever more quickly the words that would imprison the human and the elf forever, Aragorn rolled slowly onto his side. Bending his knees under him, he stood suddenly upright, fighting the dizziness that rocked his vision. The wight seemed to look up, if indeed it had eyes that could see, and then there came a piercing whistle, like the last syllables of a scream pitched too high for human ears. The sword in the evil creature's hands came up and into the light, the green cast lending a horrible luminescence to the chalk white fingers as they gripped the hilt. There was a rushing as the thing came at its prey, and Aragorn grasped desperately for one of the swords along the wall, spinning about to parry the first blow awkwardly with one hand.
"Legolas!" he cried, readjusting his grip and falling back before the inhuman blows that seemed to shiver his arm to the marrow. "Legolas, I need you!"
"You cannot wake him," the wight hissed. "You are ours; this is your dwelling now."
"No!" Aragorn swung forward in a sharp attack, stumbling over mounds of treasure when the wight fell back into the blackest of the shadows. "Legolas Greenleaf! Return and forsake the shadows! Awake!"
A whispery voice, echoing as if from another part of the barrow, seemed to drown out his call, throwing his words back at him, "Come, you are wanted: first born of the wood. Come. Come down with us." Then higher the voice cried, "Slay him!"
The first wight snaked forward, still invisible except for when its hand or booted foot appeared out of the shadows. Even as Aragorn braced himself to meet it, he felt a blast as of an icy wind and stumbled, tripping upon the hem of the robe he wore. Sliding upon the piles of ancient gold, the human fell back and cried out as a protruding piece of armor caught him in a sharp cut between his shoulder blades. The wight took swift advantage of its prey's position of weakness. With another strange cry, this time of triumph, the sword descended towards Aragorn's chest — and then the ranger brought up his own weapon. The two blades met and held in an 'x' of steel above him, but the wight, instead of pulling its weapon back for a second blow, moved to press the two blades home. Aragorn's wrists began to tremble under the strain and he heard the faint scratching sounds as the blades shifted against one another under the pressure.
"Legolas," the ranger whispered hoarsely. "Help."
There was a flash of steel so close to his face that for a moment he thought the wight had pulled out a dagger and stabbed him, but he felt no pain… and then there was a high shattering as of heated glass. The new blade exploded into shimmering sparks and the wight screamed in a long, spine-chilling wail that quaked the barrow to its earthen foundations. The wight's sword seemed to have been suddenly released for it clattered to the floor, nearly causing Aragorn to drop his own blade at the released tension. There was the soft impact of something falling upon his chest and he looked to see what it might have been — only to start back in revulsion. The thing fell to the floor, long and wriggling still. Pale, it twitched upon the sickly gold beside where its mate had also fallen: the wight's two severed hands.
"Aragorn!" an anxious voice cried sharply and the human looked up to find his friend crouching now beside him.
"Legolas! You are all right!" the ranger gasped in relief, gripping the elf's forearm and getting quickly to his feet.
"I am now, or will be. I heard your voice, but did not recognize it at first. How do we get away from this place?"
Looking around swiftly to get his bearings, the human looked also to see what had become of the wight, but it seemed to have vanished and then he glimpsed a darker shade of black amongst the shadows on his left: the opening of a passageway. "They must have a route to the surface, else they could not have brought us down here. Come, this seems the only way in." Tossing a fresh sword to his friend, Aragorn started across the chamber casting only one warning back over his shoulder, "Be wary; there is another in here somewhere."
Behind them the strange green light was fading slightly and ahead the tunnel was dark as a starless night. Fearing to come upon the enemy suddenly, Aragorn moved with painful slowness, straining to see ahead. The light that normally glowed around Legolas seemed stifled somehow. An eerie silence had replaced the strange cries and chantings of only a little while ago. Abruptly, the hand Aragorn had been sliding along the wall to guide him dropped into open space. For a moment he groped, fearing an attack if it turned out they had come upon another chamber like the one they had left — but the air was not moving in the right way for that to be the answer.
"Legolas, place your hand on my back. We've come to a fork in the tunnel and we cannot afford to lose each other."
With reassuring quickness, Aragorn felt the light touch of the elf's hand upon his shoulder and he started to the right, hoping he was not merely imagining the faint sense of clean air.
On they walked, their nerves becoming nearly raw with the strain of listening for danger and hearing nothing. The tunnel divided again a short while later and again they took the right fork. The strange network of passageways seemed to extend further out than did the barrow itself. Still there was no breath of movement, either ahead or behind them. Almost Aragorn dared to hope that the wights would let them leave unhindered.
Even Legolas was ignorant of its presence when it attacked.
The touch on Aragorn's shoulder was suddenly gone. His friend gave a startled cry, grappling in the dark with an invisible assailant. An angry scream and the clash sounded of a steel blade scraping on rock, but then came a chocking sound as if the wight had caught Legolas around the neck and was pulling him down.
Fearing to strike his friend by mistake, Aragorn could only hold his sword in one hand while he felt blindly behind him, trying to find the elf by touch and pull him to safety. Once his hand brushed something like flesh, but it was clammy and he recoiled as a wave of terror seemed to wash over him from the very touch.
"Legolas?" he cried desperately, as suddenly there was a sound of flesh striking stone and the choking ceased. "Legolas!"
A chilling hiss sounded only inches away from his ear and he swung to away from it, nearly colliding with the tunnel wall. There were fingers grabbing at his sleeve — the hiss sounded again, this time right before his face — he swung his blade reflexively upward. There was a shattering, familiar to him now, as his blade burst asunder. A final scream threatened to throw him off his feet and then, somehow, he knew it had gone. Falling to his hands and knees, ignoring the stinging pain when he cut his palms on the shards of steel, he groped along the ground until he encountered the elf's hand. The elf was still breathing but in an unnatural, rasping fashion. Trying to be gentle in spite of the need for haste Aragorn lifted his friend half way onto his lap, wishing he had water with him.
After only a few minutes, though it seemed much longer to the ranger, Legolas coughed hard and stiffened into a sitting position, reaching to his back for the knives that weren't there.
"Easy, my friend," Aragorn cautioned, helping the elf onto his feet and continuing hurriedly, "we cannot remain here. I know not how many more there may be in this place."
This time they set off down the tunnel more quickly, following the scent of air. When Aragorn began to see the faint tinges of green again he at first mistook them for an hallucination and then grew wary. There was another chamber between them and the outside world. A nudge at his back and Legolas pressed the hilt of his sword into the human's hand.
"You know better how to use it than I."
Slowing again, they crept up to the end of the tunnel and peered out with eyes that blinked, even though the light was but hazy. It was a round chamber not unlike the first they had entered, but though the last had been unoccupied save for themselves and the gold, this one held several figures. None were wights, but there was a stark grimness to the scene even if it did not endanger them. In a row around one side of the room there lay several men, clothed as the two companions were in white and girt with swords and gems, but dead as the air around them. Towards the end was one figure that may have been either a child or a halfling, but neither Aragorn nor Legolas wished to approach nearer and discover which.
Sensing Aragorn growing stiff at the spectacle before him, Legolas gave the human a slight push, stooping only to lift a dagger from the mound of gold nearest him. "Quickly, my friend! The passage leads out the other side of the room!"
Shuddering, Aragorn shook himself and nodded, averting his eyes as he moved quickly around the other side of the chamber. He was walking in the shadows rather than in the strange green light, trying to stay far away from the bewitched corpses, when suddenly he stumbled over something in his path. For a moment he thought it to be a piece of armor, but then started as he recognized it for what it was. A skeleton sat huddled in the corner, its stiff hands clasped over the back of its head as though protecting itself from a final blast of sorcery.
"Aragorn," Legolas whispered, the word trailing off as he pointed.
Sheltered in the skeleton's lap there was a black book.
TBC…