Deana: Glad you like, and it's nice to have you along.
Grumpy: *g* No, can't hide it from family, especailly when family are elves. Too perceptive, them beings. *sly look* More chapters or more flashbacks?
Nell Marie: Uh, when did the review not make it? Was ff.net being mean again? I shall have to beat it. I'm so glad you liked that, I hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Heh. Mmm, since I have you here, I might as well tell you I have no more little cutsie stories waiting in the wings. That was my last one unless another challenge comes up that I like or I get a bit of non-third story inspiration.
Bill the Pony: You don't mind that I leave the number off do you? *g* Glad you liked. Bit of humor in this one, too.
Now, a couple little additional notes. A reviewer on the MC mailing list has requested a change in posting schedule. I might be willing to go to every other day posting, but only if I get a majority request, so if you want it a day earlier, review and leave a note.
What else was there. . . . Eh, can't think of it. If it's important, I'll remember later and include it in my next post. So, read on, enjoy, and drop a line. It makes me so happy. *g* Share a little joy. Lol. *g*
Oh, wait! I remember. You might want to get a dictionary out. Unless your vocabulary is super big, you will probably get lost during that certain game I mentioned earlier. Sorry. *winces, then smiles cheerfully* Enjoy!
Chapter 3
Danger's Path
Even before the first light of dawn crossed the horizon, Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir stood outside, making the final touches to ready their horses for their journey. Packs were secured, and bridles and girdles were checked. Finally, everything was deemed ready and the three youth turned to face Lord Elrond.
Somehow, Aragorn managed to look bone weary and wired at the same time, a contradiction that could not last very long, but Elrond prayed his energy would last until they reached Mirkwood where the young man could crash in safety.
"Stay safe, my sons," the elf lord bid them quietly, mindful that most were yet sleeping. "And do try and return to me hale."
This last was answered with smiles, the joke even garnering a response from the mostly subdued human. "We will try, Ada," Elladan spoke for the group, prompting a chuckle from Aragorn.
"Yes, well. Let's see if you three can achieve a little success this time around while you're at it."
"Yes, Ada," they chorused.
"Namarie, ionnath nin," he bid, then watched as the last members of his family climbed atop their horses and left, a last farewell floating back to him. Just as they reached the gates, Aragorn turned back and looked at him. The elf lord read gratitude in that shadowed gaze, and hope.
It had been long since the young ranger's gaze had held any hope. They rode out of sight and Elrond closed his eyes. So long as the Dúnadan had not given up, there was hope for his healing.
His thoughts no longer so dark, Lord Elrond turned to go back inside and face the uncertainty of not knowing the fate of his sons until one or all of them returned to him. As long as all three were brought back to him, he could content himself to wait for anything.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aragorn set the pace for the first leg of their journey.
Anxious to reach Mirkwood and discover his friend well, he rode hard and fast, forcing the twins to match his stride or be left behind. No one spoke and they entered the High Pass that would lead them through and across the mountain range.
At Midday, Elladan convinced Aragorn to stop for lunch and give the horses a break, and the three settled down to a brief meal. The ranger watched around them constantly, his anxious behavior unsettling to the two elves.
"Is something wrong?" Elrohir finally asked.
The young man jumped, whirling back around to face them, and offered a weak smile. "No, I just hate the delay."
"We'll get there soon enough, Estel," Elladan offered, his voice soothing.
Elrohir then spoke up again, his tone wry. "Of course, if we kill the horses, we won't be going anywhere, and with our luck, we'd find orcs as soon as that happened."
Aragorn smiled as Elladan turned to his brother in mock fear. "Speak not so, brother!" he remonstrated. "It is our luck that once spoken, so happens."
Aragorn laughed. "He's right, Elrohir. You may have just doomed us all."
"Uh, well then, if trouble should befall us, you can tell Father it's my fault."
"We'll take you up on that, too," Elladan told him. "You should hope we run into no trouble, if you're going to take blame."
"Always," Elrohir replied with a smile.
Aragorn snorted.
"You don't believe me." The younger elf looked hurt.
Aragorn snorted again. "You don't always want to avoid trouble. Hunting Orcs isn't exactly the best way to try and avoid trouble."
Elrohir opened his mouth, then closed it. "He's got you there, brother," Elladan informed him gleefully.
"Okay, maybe not all the time. . . . But never when I wish to visit friends."
Aragorn and Elladan glanced at each other. "Oh, alright. Never when you wish to visit friends," Elladan allowed, and was not contradicted.
The ranger looked to the east, further along their path, then looked back. "So can we go now?" he asked.
The twins looked at each other, exchanging an amused glance at the impatience of youth, then stood. "Sure."
Quickly and efficiently, they cleaned up from their brief camp, eliminating any evidence of their presence. Then they called their horses and mounted, pausing to examine their surroundings before setting off. The elves took it as a good sign that their brother did not immediately return to his headlong rush of earlier and sought to distract him from a similar endeavor, though Elladan did set up a quick and easy pace, the strides long so as to cover much land without wearing out the horses.
"Would you like to play a game?" Elrohir asked suddenly.
Both elf and man looked at him questioningly. "A game?" Aragorn echoed doubtfully.
"What kind of game?" Elladan demanded.
Elrohir was quiet a long moment, then said, "A word game. The ending letter of one word is the beginning letter of the next word and it proceeds until the next person can no longer think of a word that begins with their letter."
"There are many words in many languages," Aragorn observed. "Such a game could go on until the end of the ages, and I will not live that long."
The younger elf leveled a steady glare at the human beside him. "That's why there are restrictions," he asserted.
"And what restrictions would you have on this game, Elrohir?" Elladan asked, himself somewhat leery.
"There can be no proper nouns, such as names or places. Each word can of course only be used once, and we'll only use one language. The language shall be Common in order to limit the word choices."
"It could still go on forever," Aragorn challenged.
"Not if you only have five minutes to come up with your next word before you lose," he maintained.
Aragorn and Elladan looked at each other. Elrohir waited expectantly while his two brothers came to an agreement on what to do. Finally, Elladan spoke. "Oh, why not. We shall play your game. Perhaps it will make the wait less tiresome."
"All right," Elrohir said. "We'll let youngest go first. Choose a letter that begins with an 'a' to start the game, Aragorn."
The young ranger glacned at them doubtfully, then looked forward to think of a word. "Avenge," he offered.
"A good one," Elrohir stated energetically. "For mine, I choose. . . . Entice."
Elladan considered briefly, then, "Expurgate."
Aragorn shot him an amused look, then said, "Edify."
Elrohir snorted, already amused with where this game was going. He directed his attention forward, looking among with various rocks, alert for an orc attack. "Yarrow."
They rounded a turn and were forced to change order as the pass narrowed past where three riders could ride comfortably side-by-side, only to resume the previous order as soon as it widened again. "Hm," Elladan murmured. "A plant was the choice of my twin. What shall be my choice?" He turned shrewd eyes on his two companions. "I shall choose a bird: wren."
Aragorn laughed. "And what does that leave me with?" he demanded. "Ah, well, let's see what I can come up with to contribute to this game." He glanced down at his hands, then looked at Elrohir with a wicked smile. "Narcotic."
Elladan burst out laughing. "Shut up, brother," Elrohir muttered. "Catalpa."
Elladan looked forward. "Orcs!" he cried suddenly.
Elrohir frowned at him. "That doesn't start with an 'a'."
"No," Aragorn said, his hand coming up to shake his shoulder. "There are Orcs." Elrohir looked up, then groaned.
"Now see what you've done, Elrohir," Elladan hissed, amusement flashing in his eyes despite the gravity of the situation. "You should have kept your big mouth shut."
Elrohir glanced at his brother but did not reply for the horses reared in terror. The three were silent as they struggled to remain atop their mounts. Aragorn was the first to jump off his horse's back, well aware he did not have the strength to fight the creature, then meet the orcs in battle. Elladan and Elrohir soon followed, the eldest giving a command to the horses in elvish, sending the creatures back a few paces, skittering nervously where they halted.
Elladan stepped forward, half shielding Aragorn and causing the young man to scowl at him. However, despite his irritation, the young man held his tongue. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew it was better he not face the brunt of the assault if it was at all possible, and he knew they knew that.
The three brothers exchanged quick glances, then the goblins charged.
Elladan met the first attack, his sword firmly countering the initial strike from the foul creature before him. He shoved backwards, knocking the creature off balance and into a few of its fellows. The whole group went down, and were consequently ignored.
Beside him, Elrohir countered the attacks aimed at him, swinging up quickly in a dangerous move that required perfect timing and even greater strength to avoid being diced in half when one's opponent brought their sword down. His sword impacted the orcs and the other's blade was forced up, leaving him open to attack. The younger elf did not hesitate, but quickly angled his sword down and jebbed it through the other's unprotected neck. He fell, and Elrohir moved to the next one.
Barely registering the twins who fought near him, Aragorn threw himself into the fight, using all his strength and concentration to repel the vile creatures. He was not quite aware of his motions, allowing instinct to take over, as he fought of beast after beast, each falling before him, but he was cognizant of Elrohir's next statement--barely.
"Elladan, you still have to say your next word."
"What?!" the elder twin exclaimed. He spared a glance for his brother, then refocused on the fight. "You have got to be kidding me!" He slashed at an orc who ventured too close, removing the arm the creature that had no more use for it just moments later.
"Your five minutes are rolling away," Elrohir confirmed. The elf struck horizontally, driving a trio of orcs who had been trying for him back.
"Oh for love of Arda!" Elladan cried, rolling his eyes. "Oh, fine! Attack!"
Elrohir laughed. "Your turn, brother," he called back to Aragorn. The only sound that met his ears was the clash of sword on sword, and he turned to see how the human faired. An orc fell to his skill as soon as he turned, but the elf could see his brother was running out of energy, his blows lacking their usual gusto. It reminded him plainly of how he had fought in their last battle against orcs.
One of the foul creatures had managed to come around behind the trio and Elrohir caught him moving towards Aragorn's unprotected back. He moved forward quickly and cut off the attack before it could fall, removing the creature's head with satisfaction. The young human turned, startled, then smiled weakly before returning his attention forward toward the press of orcs awaiting his blade.
"Aragorn!" Elrohir called. "What's your word?"
"What?"
"Your word."
Aragorn frowned. "What did Elladan say?" He slashed at another orc who appeared in his line of sight, halting the descent of the other's blade. The human pushed it back and stepped forward, then slammed his fist into the other's face. The orc stumbled backwards into one of his companions, cutting off that one's attack. In his fury, the orc attacked his kin, killing him for getting in the way.
"Attack," Elrohir answered with a snort, blocking his own orcs. Already they had made fair progress and the number of enemies coming at them had dwindled to roughly a dozen.
"Kill," Aragorn said, too distracted to truly give any thought to the game, merely spouting the first word that came to mind with the right letter. Another orc fell to the young man's blade and he stumbled.
Elrohir jumped forward, blocking his younger brother from the orcs who wished to take advantage of his weakness, and removed two from the running. Suddenly Elladan was beside him and the six orcs who faced them were quickly eliminated, felled by ruthlessly accurate strikes that lacked finese but made up for it in efficiency.
The younger elf observed the pass with bodies littering it with a slight frown on his face. Elladan moved over to Aragorn. "Are you alright?"
Aragorn breathed heavily, doing his best to combat the fatigue that was pulling at him and keep the world from spinning around him. "For once."
"Good." He looked over towards the horses and whistled softly. Obediently, the creatures moved forward to their owners. Tiredly, Aragorn pulled himself back up, Elladan following close behind.
Elrohir turned to look at the both of them. "Loathe," he announced, then jumped onto the back of his stead.
Elladan gave his twin a dark look and started his horse moving forward. Aragorn followed quietly, fatigue pulling heavily at him. The younger elf followed with an incredulous look. "What?" he asked.
His elder brother merely shook his head. "I can't believe you."
"What?"
"Insisting on that stupid game in the middle of a fight." Elladan glanced back at him. "You've finally lost it."
"Oh, come on."
"No, you have," the eldest insisted. He glanced back at Aragorn to see how he fared and noticed the young human was nearly asleep, his silver eyes half-lidded and his posture slouched. Had they been anywhere else, he would have called a halt right then and there. As it was, he dared not stop so near an orc attack so far from the end of the pass. With a sigh he turned back around. "We must go on." Elrohir nodded, having also noticed Estel. "Egregious."
The twins fell silent, considering the human to be asleep. Their eyes scanned their surroundings carefully. Aragorn, meanwhile, was trying to get his mind to function and his eyes to stay open. He did not want his mind working and his eyes closed, but he did not want to fall asleep either, especially since that amounted to the same thing. In a last ditch attempt to fend off sleep, he turned his attention to the game. "Strive," he announced.
Both elves jumped at his unexpected comment. Elladan frowned. "We thought you were sleeping."
He shook his head. "Can't sleep."
"Why not?" Elrohir asked gently.
Aragorn fell silent. This was not what he wanted to talk about. Why he had told them he could not sleep was beyond him. That was something they were not supposed to know, though he figured they had suspected that much any way. He frowned and simply stared into the distance, praying they would drop this subject and continue the game.
Elrohir glanced back at him, noting the set of the human's jaw and the set lines of his face. For whatever reason, Aragorn did not want to talk to them about his troubles, and pressing when he was tired was never productive. The obstinate side of the young man seemed to flare beyond reason when he was exhausted. How he could be more stubborn when lacking strength than he was at full strength, Elrohir could not fathom, but it did not change that truth. He sighed. "Elusive."
Elladan chuckled. "Empathize," he agreed.
Aragorn smiled slightly, catching what they were doing. He was too tired to take offense, even mock offense, and so let it go . . . until his mind locked on a word he rather liked. Plus, it had another use. "Emulate," he offered quietly, bare hints of a cheeky smile in his tone.
"Ai, brother," Elrohir said with a slight twinkle in his eye, "he still has enough brains to tease. Mayhap we should send him back to the orcs."
"Do you think Father would mind?" Elladan asked with a frown, as if he was giving the notion serious thought.
Elrohir waved his hand dismissively. "So long as we bring him back alive, Father would never know."
Elladan looked at him doubtfully. "Nay, Estel would tell him. Besides, where would we find the Orcs? All the ones who attacked us are dead and we have seen no more since."
"Oh," the younger elf murmured. "Well, perhaps not, then." He thought for a moment. "Ensnare."
With a sideways glance, Elladan leaned towards his twin. "Ennui."
Elrohir slapped at him, a move which the other dodged easily. "You are not."
"Are so," Elladan defended. "After Orcs, word games are quite dull."
The younger elf snorted. "Now you've gone and done it," he said.
The twins continued to bicker back and forth, offering words at intervals between their contest of words, and Aragorn offered up his own when his turn came, mostly keeping them simple while he thought of other things.
Without his permission, his mind turned to another time when he had crossed this same pass, or tried to, alone. He had been sixteen, then, and tired of being protected. Like all teenagers, he thought he knew everything there was to know about everything that was important. Then, when he was told he could not accompany the twins on a visit to Mirkwood, he made up his mind to follow them.
It had been the middle of winter and any sane person would have realized traveling the High Pass in such weather was a bad idea, but Estel had not been thinking about the advisability of such an action, he just wanted to be seen as grown-up.
Snow blanketed the floor of the pass about two feet deep where there were no drifts or rocks to change the elevation. In parts, one could make out boulders under the white perfection. Elladan and Elrohir had rode out early in the morning, well aware there was a storm coming later that evening and that they wanted to be well on their way through the pass before it struck.
Estel had not known, and did not ask. He merely packed a bag with what supplies he thought he would need and wrapped himself up in a couple layers. Pride kept him from truly preparing for the cold, for the elves did not dress extra warmly for the winter months. To his mind, it was a mark of weakness that he had to wear more, a failing, a difference he did not want to have.
Then he left, in the middle of the afternoon, just after lunch, when no one would miss his presence, dressed for a cool winter's day with his small bag of provisions. The boy would have taken his horse, but there were too many people there who would question where he was going and he could not tell them, so he had walked or run.
Looking back, Aragorn easily saw how foolish he had been, but youth seems to require learning lessons the hard way, and he knew he had not wanted to listen when he was told he was not ready for such a journey. But he did not.
It was nearing dark when he finally made the pass, and Estel had begun to shiver from the falling temperature. Had his pride not been so strong, he might have turned and headed back.
He remembered pausing at the mouth of the pass, studying it closely. He remembered thinking, looking at the high walls standing imposingly on each side, firm and unyielding, uncompromising in forcing itself up into the sky, that perhaps it was not such a good idea to follow on his own. He remembered turning back around as if to go home.
Then he had thought of how his brothers had gone, and he was lost. With youthful indignation he had plowed forward, determined to show his family that he was not helpless and was capable of more than they thought.
Unfortunately, Aragorn thought with the clarity of age, I only succeeded in proving I was a child.
Two hours after he had entered, the storm had hit in its full fury. Too late to turn back, nowhere to turn to the side, Estel had pushed on forward, fighting against the frigid wind that whipped down the pass with multiplied force. It had not taken long before the cold became more than he could bear.
~*~
Estel staggered forward, one hand holding the hood of his cloak up to cover his face as the wind tried to rip it off. The stinging cold bit at the expose skin on his hand and passed straight through his clothing, never mind that there were several layers. His lips were turning blue and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Snow pelted at his face, chaffing what it could reach and stinging his eyes. Through the cloud of white and the blurriness of tears, the young human could make out nothing in front of him.
He took a step forward, and almost immediately lost his balance as his foot came down on a rock, twisting and dumping him to the floor. A partially stiffled cry of pain was swallowed by the howling of the wind as the youth grabbed at the protesting limb, desperate to ease the pain.
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut in an effort to block out the pain (an effort that did not work) and rocked slightly. The intense shivering that plagued him did nothing to ease the pain, and Estel desperately wished he were back at Rivendell, safe and warm by one of the fires in the Great Hall.
Knowledgable enough to realize he could not remain where he was, the boy pulled himself sideways towards the half-glimpsed pass wall a couple feet to his right. The jostling sent fire racing up his leg and rung a whimper from proud lips. He did not stop, however, and bore the pain as best he could, well aware that he had brought it upon himself.
When he finally reached the wall, he attempted to pull himself up, only to discover he was shaking so badly that he could barely control his arms, much less find enough strength to lever himself to his feet. He collapsed back to the snow covered floor, sending up a small flurry of snow that was quickly flung further down the pass.
Miserable, he pulled his feet up to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them. He sniffed pittifully and blinked rapidly, hoping to keep the tears from falling. The last thing he needed was to be caught with icicle tears on his cheeks.
Depressed, he wondered exactly who he was afraid would find him.
~*~
That was not fun, Aragorn decided. A rather unpleasant forerunner to that trip with Dryrn, though at least when I was sixteen it was my own stupidity that got me into the mess in the first place.
He shook his head ruefully, and glanced at the twins who were arguing playfully amongst themselves, rather heatedly, but playfully nonetheless. Their words echoed off the stone walls around them, causing the ranger a moment of concern. They were louder than a hoarde of orcs!
He snorted, hoping they were paying attention to their surroundings while they were arguing, for he could not keep his eyes open well enough. In any case, he would gladly blame any further orc attacks on the both of them. . . .
~*~
How long he crouched there, against the unforgiving expanse of stone, Estel was never certain, but it had felt like a long time. In that time, the temperature had dropped drastically and he had begun to lose feeling in his arms and legs.
Deciding he needed to do something quickly to warm up, he had once again started moving, this time forgoing the notion of standing. The youth crawled quickly--as quickly as he was able, at least, considering the snow was two feet deep. He was more swimming through it than crawling, actually, but after a while, the distinction made little difference.
Whether you wanted to call it crawling or swimming, he was going nowhere fast.
It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. It was almost impossible to move his arms and legs, the snow having soaked into his clothing and refrozen. Slowly, too, he was ceasing to shiver, his body temperature dropping. Soon, he was even beginning to feel quite warm.
Distantly, he realized this was probably a bad thing. That he should feel warmth when he should still be freezing was a sign of trouble, but his weary and frozen mind could not find any cause for concern as it sunk further into oblivion.
He made one last effort to move forward, and was vaguely aware that something blocked his path. Hesitantly, he glanced up, and up. A tall form stood before him, clutching at something on his head.
The image swum out of focus and Estel blinked forcefully, not sure exactly what to make of what he saw. The figure stooped, and he came face to face with warm brown eyes which studied him intently. His brow scrunched up in a frown as he tried to figure out who this person was that was crazy enough to be out in this storm.
As if from far off he heard, "My, my, what have we here?"
Then his mind sunk away into blissful sleep, sheltered in a warm cocoon, and he knew no more.
~*~
"Middle-earth to Estel. Come in, far wanderer."
He blinked rapidly, surprised to find himself staring into matching blue eyes that looked both amused and concerned. "What?" he asked, then realized they were stopped and wondered when that had happened.
Elrohir chuckled. "Humans have some odd habits when they sleep," he observed, and turned his mount, kicking slightly with his heel, a motion that barely made contact with the creature's side, to start it moving. The other two followed until they had resumed the quick loping stride that would eat up the ground the quickest.
"What habits do you mean?" he asked, deciding he might get a better answer if he made his question more specific, still hightly confused.
"He means you were talking in your sleep, Estel," Elladan spoke up, apparently of a mood to deny his twin his fun, and not of a mood to unduly torment his youngest brother.
Aragorn was incredibly grateful for both, as he did not think he was up to puzzling out what his brothers would say. "I was?"
Elrohir shot Elladan a glare. "Yes."
"About what?"
"You started mumbling something about it being cold," Elladan answered, giving him an odd frown. "What were you dreaming about?"
The young ranger frowned, then shook his head. "Nothing important," he said, then he pursed his lips and took in his surroundings. "I'm just glad there's no snow." With that, he sent a wicked grin over his shoulder at the two elves, then sent his horse into a head-long gallop.
Startled cries of outrage chased him, followed by the pounding of horses hooves. To himself, he added, And that you are with me, even if I don't deserve you.