Bill the Pony: Glad you liked. Thank you for telling me it was, indeed, you. *g* I hope I haven't forgotten to answer anything I meant to answer.
Grumpy: Yes, back in the village, safe and sound, and help comes. *g* Wonderful help, don't you think? *winks* The answer to that question arrives in the next story. I cannot tell you here. Story arc: can't reveal everything all at once. But please send me all questions so that I remember what I haven't answered so it doesn't get left out. Sometimes it's hard to keep track of. Thanks.
Lauren: I didn't forget about you, honest. You simply don't review on ff.net so in my twisted mind you don't count. *g* No offense, of course. Sorry about college, but I forgive you. I have so much to look forward to. *winces* Lol. A listing on Freud's couch. *makes a funny face as vision passes before her eyes* lol. Oh, that's so wrong. Of course, if I'm bored, I might just write it. *shudders* Then again, maybe not. I don't really want to relive their experiences any more than they do, and I'm still trying to come up with new ones. Maybe Legolas will actually catch up to Aragorn in the next one. He hasn't gotten enough attention. Lol. Children of the Corn? Glowing eyes? Oh, tell. I hate being left in the dark. While I find the picture amusing, I don't understand the reference. *pouts*
Ok, we'll see if I can carry all this through the next story and actually wrap everything up in a nice, neat little bag for carry out. *g* I have to say that I don't think this is one of my better chapters. But maybe I'm just getting picky in my old age. I rewrote it once long ago before I started posting, and it's definitely better, but it's not all it could be. Still, it does about what I want it to, so I'll live with it.
What else? Oh, please please please tell my about any lose threads that I have left, even if I have already said they are going to be answered next story. I miss some, and I would like to make sure everything is answered that's supposed to be answered. I try, but no one's perfect. When I finish the sequel, hopefully around Christmas, I'm gonna mark it with [Seqeul to OMaN], because writing the whole title would take up too much room. I'm telling you know, so if you want, you'll know what it means when you see it.
Anything else? Responses to the last two chapters are at the bottom, that way they're there if you want to read them, or you can ignore, or save them till later, what have you. I'm not including the title of the sequel because I have not settled on one. I have one, but it may be subject to change, and such would be confusing. I think that's everything.
Have fun.
Chapter 20
Pass From Here
The elves rode quickly in the pouring rain, intent on reaching their destination. Their keen eyesight had caught sight of the village at the foot of the Mountains of Mirkwood, which had suddenly shrunk from their sight but a few hours prior. All were worried for their friends, but only Raniean and Trelan had any idea as to the sort of trouble Legolas and Aragorn could get into if given the opportunity.
The taller elf feared that the friends had been near the mountain, even that they had been in it, and that they were now trapped after it had collapsed. Trapped . . . or dead. That was his worst fear: that as quickly as they rode, they would arrive too late to help, that his friends would be dead.
That was his fear, yet he knew better than to dwell on it. With any luck, and both Strider and Legolas seemed to possess an unsual amount of it for all the trouble they got into, the villagers would know of their prince's and his friend's fate. They could only hope.
They rode up to the village and dismounted, swinging down easily as they looked around at the various buildings nestled among the trees. Keen eyes caught movement as people shied from their presence. Raniean glanced back as Trelan moved up to his side.
"Are you sure these Men might know something?" the shorter being asked, eyes following a group of huddled children as a frightened woman herded them into a nearby building.
Raniean followed his gaze. "This is the only village withing more than a hundred miles. We had better hope they're here."
"How could they have possibly made it this far south?"
The elf shrugged as his ears caught a whispered conversation and he halted his response. "Aina, Cori. Go, inform Niriss riders are here, from the North. Tell him they're Elves. He'll know what to do." Then two little girls darted around a building heading towards a larger one further away. Raniean wondered if the fear he had heard in the woman's voice was because they were elves or because of something else. In any case, there was no need to take chances. He motioned his group to remain with the horses--non-threatening but present if needed--then walked with Trelan closer to the group of buildings, trying to look as benevolent as possible. Neither went often into human villages, but both had enough experience to know that human fear could cause things to go wrong in a hurry.
Finally, someone came out of the building the two girls had disappeared into. He had hair to his shoulders and a beard in the way of men with deep-set eyes in a stern face. The corners of his lips turned down as if he did not smile often and the deep pain that haunted his gaze spoke of terrible loss. When the man stopped before them, the two elves bowed, surprising him.
"We come seeking news of our friends who disappeared," Trelan announced quietly. "We hope to find them here, or at least news of their health."
The man bowed back. "Welcome, Master Elves. If you would follow me, it may be that we can answer your questions." With that cryptic comment, spoken low in a gravelly voice, the man turned and walked back the way he had come.
The elves glanced at each other, not entirely sure what to make of this reception for it was different than the elven ways, yet they knew nothing else to do but follow and hope their fears were put to rest. However, they had far too much experience with both their prince and the ranger to be relieved that they may have found them.
Trelan leaned closer to Raniean and whispered, "Do you think they're here?"
"Do you?" Raniean asked, glancing at him.
The shorter elf sighed. "If they are, I want to know how they made it so far so quickly on foot."
Raniean snorted. "That human will mange the impossible yet."
"You mean we'll see him in the undying lands?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Well?" Aragorn asked, breaking the silence. "What is your decision?"
Niriss tore his eyes away from the two girls standing in the doorway looking torn between apprehension and excitement, hovering as if waiting to take their cue from their elders on if this was good news. Barald grinned wickedly.
"Now, Niriss, the Elves have come. No hiding them now."
Niriss stared blankly at Legolas, the train of his thoughts hidden from all. Had he stood just a little stiller, he could have been carved from stone. Everyone waited, Barald chuckling softly, as their leader considered what to do. Finally, he stirred. "Korl, bring the Elves in here."
A man in the back of the room stood and moved quickly out of the building. No one moved as they waited for him to return, but the ranger watched Niriss closely, noting that he had gone still again, lost in his thoughts.
The man was in an uncomfortable position, he knew. As leader of his people, by choice or otherwise, they looked to him to keep them safe, make decisions that promote their well-being. Would he risk the safety of his people to keep them safe from Kaialian? Would he risk the wrath of the elves by withholding their prince? There was the possibility of ill either way.
Inwardly, Aragorn grimaced. I do not envy you your position, Niriss. It is a hard choice. I hope you make the right one.
They did not have to wait long before they heard footsteps outside, even above the rain which pounded steady from above, then three grim-faced individuals entered, water dripping from their forms onto the floor. Korl immediately moved off to the side and resumed his position along the wall. Raniean and Trelan were left facing Niriss, who did not seem to know what to do now that the elves were actually before him. The elves, for their part, relaxed slightly upon seeing their friends alive.
The two elves waited expectantly for Niriss to make the first move. Aragorn had to fight a smile as it appeared the human was waiting for the elves to make the first move. Had he not known better, the ranger would have believed himself to be witness to a staring contest instead of a . . . he did not know what. It remained to be seen what Niriss planned to do.
As the silence stretched into the realm of the absurd, Barald started laughing again. "Speak up, lad," he bid. "They're waiting for you."
The smile Aragorn had been fighting worked its way onto his face against his will. Legolas had to duck his head to hide a smile of his own.
Niriss started, jerking slightly. "Oh," he breathed, then straightened and took a deep breath. His eyes darted around the room before settling back on the elves before him, and with that action regained a measure of dignity. "Welcome to our village," he intoned, for lack of any better beginning. "We are honored by your presence, Elves of Mirkwood." He inclined his head respectfully.
Raniean repeated the gesture and stepped forward. "We thank you. Our lord, King Thranduil, sent us in search of Prince Legolas of Mirkwood and Strider of the North. We are grateful to find them well and wish to extend our gratitude to you. If there is any way me may be of service, you have only to ask."
Niriss blinked, flummoxed. Barald laughed. "We said, Master Elf. We said!" Everybody, including the four strangers, looked at him. "It takes quite a bit to make him speechless, but you've done it!" He cackled some more, his amusement paramount.
Raniean and Trelan gave the man uncertain smiles, then glanced hesitantly at Aragorn before turning to look back at Niriss, awaiting his response.
"Uh, yes," the man responded, jumping again as if he had been slapped. "Yes. You are, of course, welcome to remain here as long as you desire." His voice seemed to die as he said these words, and his greenish-brown eyes flickered nervously to Aragorn and Legolas.
Trelan's eyes also flickered, curious about the reason for the man's behavior and saw the slightly wide-eyed look Strider had (coupled with a forced smile when he saw Niriss was looking), and the overly tense posture of his prince. Exactly what had happened, he did not know, but it was clear they did not want to remain here. A sentiment he would have been more than willing to return whole-heartedly (good things never happened when one stayed too long in a human village--what would happen with three?) except for the the face that both Strider and Legolas were injured. He would not take them home, injured, in the rain, and be forced to face the wrath of his king. He would not.
However, before he could voice that belief, Strider stood and spread his hands, heavily bandages (what did he touch this time?), in a placating gesture. "Thank you, Niriss, but that really isn't necessary. Legolas and I have burdened your people long enough."
There was a hint of command in his voice, almost as if he were ordering the man to rescind his offer, and apparently Niriss caught the tone, too, for he swallowed hard and glanced nervously at Legolas.
"N-nonsense," he declaimed, his smile looking almost pained. "You are no burden, and it would be ill-advised for you to leave now, while it is raining so hard. At least enjoy our hospitality until the rain stops."
The two friends looked as if they were about to argue, so Trelan stepped hurriedly forward. "Of course," he said, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "We would be honored to remain with you, at least until the rain stops. It is well, and we thank you for your generosity."
Niriss nodded wearily, and Trelan got the impression that if he walked forward the five steps that separated him from the man and tapped him lightly, he would tip over. "Please, help our friends to, uh, more comfortable surroundings."
A group of men jumped up quickly and surrounded the elf prince and human, working quickly and blocking both individuals from sight. In the confused bustle that nevertheless managed to complete the task quickly, Trelan almost, almost, missed the dark glare both ranger and elf sent his way. Almost. He drifted back closer to Raniean.
"Mayhap we should see if these villagers would give us a tour of their lovely village." The two elves followed slowly as the mass moved outside and off towards a different building.
"No, I don't think so," Raniean countered slowly, eyes fixed on the mass that blocked their friends from view. "I think we would be better off getting this done quickly. They are together. If they are given the chance to prepare, we might not see the light of day again. Minnimal casualities if we go now."
Trelan nodded hesitantly, his eyes locked on the building his friends had been taken to, the rain once again seeking to soak his already soaked garments. Movement drew his eyes back towards their other warriors, and the two elves watched as the horses were led to another building, out of the rain, and the warriors to yet another. He sighed. "Let's get this over with. At least if they kill us, we won't have to take the prince back injured to his father."
Raniean nodded. "Let us hope they kill us." Then the two elves walkked carefully towards where they had last seen their friends.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas was angry. Legolas was angry and in pain. He was angry and in pain and tired, and that did not bode well for the objects of his ire; the objects, one might add, that had yet to appear. Blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he listened for his friends' footsteps and heard nothing but the rain.
Aragorn, too, was awaiting their appearance, and though his face was impassive, his eyes burned with a fury the elf prince was glad was not directed at him. This was going to be good.
Words, accusations ran through his head. How dare they! How dare they deny me the freedom that is my due. How dare they make me stay longer than I must in a place I do not like. How dare they even begin to think they know better than I what I need. How dare they--
The objects of his ire entered, cutting off his silent diatribe, Trelan first followed hesitantly by Raniean. Apparently, Trelan had lost whatever game had been used to determine order. Had he not been so angry, he would have been happy to see them. It seemed like forever since he had last seen them, though it could not have been more than a week since he had last traveled in their company. Indeed, had he not been so angry, he might have laughed.
Both looked as though they were creeping through a wolves' den full of sleeping beasts that they dared not wake, their eyes wide and steps slow and unbelievably cautious. It looked almost as if they were trying to walk backwards and moving forwards instead. In fact, it was only that anger that allowed him to keep a straight face and he glared at them as they stepped before him, casting anxious glances towards Aragorn as if they feared to turn away from him but could not bare to stare. It was getting more and more difficult to hold onto his ire.
Aragorn, though, did not seem to be having any trouble. His voice was low and almost calm when he spoke. Almost, but yelling would have been less terrifying. Legolas had never heard that tone in his friend before, and it both intrigued and unnerved him. "You had better have a good excuse for yourselves."
Both warriors shifted nervously, stumbling over their words and each other's for nearly five minutes without saying a single thing. When this only made the human's face darker, they cut off, falling into miserable silence. Their eyes darted towards the door as the ranger stood and walked towards them.
When he stood less than a foot from Trelan, he stopped, glaring at the shorter elf with incredible fire in his eyes. Trelan swallowed hard and looked past the man's shoulder like he was a trainee about to get the most brutal dessing-down of his life. The silence stretched, tension growing, until it was nearly unbearable. Still Aragorn did not speak.
Aragorn waited until Trelan could not stand it any more and glanced back down. When he did, Aragorn spoke. "You're late."
The simple, truly calm words dropped into the silence like a large rock being dropped into a lake. The impact took a moment to register, as if the sound took longer to travel in the tension thickened atmosphere. Raniean and Trelan blinked stupidly, unwilling to believe the worst was over until they were completely sure. The ranger pulled Trelan into a hug, slapping his back, warmly. "What took you so long?"
Legolas smirked. "We expected you sooner."
"You did?" Raniean glanced between them, looking more perturbed by the frieldly welcome than the prince had ever seen him, and that included the time he and Trelan had gotten him drunk and changed his room so that the floor was not the floor. He had not understood why he kept slipping off the chair.
The elf prince could feel his facade slipping, a smile creeping onto his face. "Of course," Aragorn said, his eyes sparkling. "And we were quite disappointed when you didn't show up when we thought you should."
Trelan laughed, and slumped tiredly onto a stool near the foot of the cot. Raniean rubbed his face tiredly. "There was not call for that," he objected.
"Revenge," Aragorn answered with a wicked grin. "We could have done something different."
"We thought you were going to kill us."
The ranger cocked his head. "The thought did cross our mind. But Mirkwood needs her captains more than we needed to kill you; thus, you are still standing."
Trelan peered at him, then turned to Legolas. "Is he joking?"
"You cannot tell?" the elf prince asked innocently.
The shorter elf glanced at the human as he sat down. "He's a Ranger. They always look serious."
"And looks are never deceiving," Aragorn laughed, smiling at Legolas.
Legolas grinned back as Trelan scowled in agitation. He tilted his head towards the Mirkwood captains. "So my father decided we would get into trouble quicker this time, hm?"
"No, my prince," Trelan said, prompting Legolas to roll his eyes. "He merely decided not to take any chances."
"When you did not return on schedule, he ordered us to take some help and go find you. The idea, I think, was to get to you before you got into trouble." Raniean studied them critically. "But we seem to be too late."
Aragorn snorted. "Aye. We were in trouble long before we were due back."
"What happened?"
The friends glanced at each other and Legolas slouched where he sat, idly playing with a bit of bandage on his leg. "Oh, you know. . . . This and that."
"How did you find us?" Aragorn shot back before they could ask what "this and that" entailed.
Trelan frowned. "We won't tell you until you tell us."
"Well, okay, then," Aragorn said easily. "Never mind." He scooted back until his back rested against the wall and closed his eyes, seeming to close the subject. Legolas took his cue and settled back with a contented smile. The two warriors glared at their friends but were not willing to disturb them. They looked tired, and if they were going to rest of their own accord, they were not about to stop them.
Raniean glared. "This is not over yet. Don't even begin to think it is." Aragorn and Legolas merely laughed, glad to have friends nearby. Then, far from pleased, the Mirkwood warriors settled back to wait out the rain.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As it turned out, the rain lasted well into the night and the group was obliged to wait until morning, something Legolas knew had pleased Raniean and Trelan greatly and irritated him to no extent. While preparations were being made that morning, Legolas sent Landil and Korval to find his and the ranger's weapons. Raniean was not allowing them to go anywhere because he said they would get into more trouble. Of course, Legolas disagreed. He believed they had already fulfilled their trouble quota for a while and were likely to be trouble free for a few days, at least. Needless to say, no one believed him--except Strider, but since the human was on his side, he did not count.
Finally, Landil and Korval returned with their weapons and the supplies were settled and distributed. Everyone was ready to go, and Legolas was helped onto his horse (his legs did not want to support his weight yet) and Strider was helped on behind him. The elf prince could just imagine the sight they made and nearly laughed. He glanced back when Aragorn wrapped his arms around his waist.
"All right back there, Strider?"
"Just don't do anything sudden," the ranger replied, glancing surreptiously at the warriors around them. Raniean and Trelan came up beside him. "I don't know how well my grip will hold."
"I'm still not sure this is such a good idea," Raniean said with a frown, pausing beside his friends.
Legolas sighed tolerantly. "Like I said, if we run into trouble, it's better for the invalids to be on one horse so we're in one place and not in the way. Unless, of course, you wish to take us into battle?"
"Nay, my lord. I understand the reasoning. It's just. . . . Let's just pray we don't find any trouble."
"You will get no arguments here, Ran," Aragorn said, smiling at the warrior. "I've had enough trouble in the last month to last me a lifetime."
"Or a month," Legolas broke in. "At least."
Ranger and elf laughed, even as the other two frowned. "Don't worry so much," Legolas chided. "All will be well."
Doubtful looks were exchanged by the elven warriors. "As you say, my lord."
The group fell silent and turned expectantly to the right as Niriss stepped near, accompanied as before by Briit and Kyrol. He looked more at ease than he had the night before, and Legolas hoped he had found peace with his decision.
Aragorn spoke. "Thank you for your assistance, Niriss. It was most appreciated. I don't think we would still be alive had you not helped."
Niriss shook his head. "Do not tender thanks, Ranger. Our actions have, if anything, left us even, though I believe we are in your debt."
"There is no debt."
"Then go in peace," Niriss bid, "and may the Valar show you to good fortune."
Aragorn inclined his head. "And you as well." He smiled slightly and then they were on their way, their pace slow as two of the members could not ride fast. A comfortable silence settled over the group, and they contented themselves with listening to the sounds of the forest, the quiet murmur of small creatures and insects and the sigh of the trees. Legolas closed his eyes and soaked it all in, letting the peace of the trees erase the memories of stone.
"Are you all right?" asked a quiet voice in his ear, meant for his ears alone.
"It's good to be going home," Legolas replied.
"Yes," Aragorn agreed.
Raniean guided his horse closer to them. Trelan looked expectant, eyebrows raised. "This or that?"
Legolas frowned lightly. "This or that?"
"Yes?"
"Okay."
"Legolas!" Trelan cried. "Tell us what happened."
"You have not told us how you found us yet."
Raniean protested, "If we do that, you will not tell us."
Aragorn smirked. "It looks like you're not getting told, then."
"But you owe us."
"We do?" the elf prince looked questioningly at his friend.
"You do," Trelan answered.
"For what?"
"For making us come get you yet again and bring you back injured to make us face King Thranduil's wrath."
Legolas thought about that for a minute, then slowly shook his head. "No, mellon nin, you are wrong. We did not do that. We have made you go nowhere. It was my father who did that. I think you should ask him.
"I think we should have left you in the village," Trelan grumbled audibly under his breath.
"I think we should have let you," the prince replied, not missing a beat. "Then you could be banished and we would not have to put up with your prying."
"Prying, my lord?" questioned Raniean, feigning hurt. "We only wish to know our prince. Surely you could indulge two of your most faithful subjects and share his auspicious story."
"Hm," Legolas stalled, looking serious. "What do you think, Aragorn?"
"I don't know, Legolas. It is a difficult decision."
"It is, indeed."
"Perhaps we should decide later."
"Perhaps we should."
"Perhaps we should cut off your heads and save the staff the trouble," Trelan shot back.
Legolas looked at him, wide-eyed, then glanced back at Aragorn, who nodded almost imperceptively. "Oh," the prince said, sounding defeated. "Perhaps we should tell, then."
Raniean and Trelan began to smile, only to catch a slight gleam in their prince's eyes. "Or perhaps you should catch us."
Before Raniean and Trelan could react, before they could even process their prince's words, Aragorn tightened his hold on Legolas and leaned forward. In the flash of an eye, they were off, racing through the trees, the wind whipping through their hair. In that moment, none of the pain of the last few days had happened, none of the fear, none of the uncertainty. For a few moments, they were free, rushing in the open far away from the troubles of the world.
Then the pain asserted itself and the illusion shattered, reality shooting through with a vengeance and dropping them hard. It was no use to go on. No matter how hard they tried, no matter how far they went, the pain would never be gone. It was hopeless. Crashes sounded through the brush, pounding hoof-beats as four horses raced to catch up, angry words promising retribution in teasing voices, and then pain was forgotten. The race was on.
Through brush and bramble, around trees, over obsturctions, they ran, sometimes gaining ground, sometimes losing it. For nearly five miles they raced before they were overcome. The group of elves and man all pulled up their mounts and returned to a more reasonable pace. Legolas stroked the proud beast's neck in thanks as Aragorn threw back a taunt to the pair of warriors behind them.
"Fall off?" he inquired cheerfully.
"Quiet, Strider," Trelan warned grumpily as Raniean laughed. Then, in a switch of mood worthy of the elves, the taller elf sobered and asked, "What happened to your hands?"
"That's a long story," hedged the Dúnadan.
"We have time," Trelan reminded soberly, hoping the ranger would talk about it. Not knowing what happened was driving them crazy.
Aragorn shook his head slowly, his thoughts inadventently taking him back to that chair and those bonds and the pain. . . . He was surprised when a hand tightened around his forearm, and he looked up into Legolas' sympathetic blue eyes. Silence stretched as no one knew how to break it, uncomfortable though it was. It was Aragorn, ironically enough, who finally broke it.
He yawned.
Legolas looked back at him, incredulously. "What are you yawning for, Ranger? You slept."
Aragorn scowled, only just stopping himself from smacking the fair creature up-side his head, and only by reminding himself it would hurt him far more than Legolas and the elf was likely to find it funny. "I was not asleep," he retorted, instead, sounding miffed.
"Your eyes were closed."
"I was on a journey." Raniean and Trelan were lost, but Legolas and Aragorn knew exactly what they were talking about.
"Was not. Your eyes were closed, you were still, and you did not respond. What do you call it?"
"A journey," mused Aragorn.
"A journey? You were sleeping!"
Aragorn shook his head. "Nay, I was on a journey."
"Where did you go?" asked Trelan, interested in something that had obviously happened before they arrived during that time they would not talk about.
"To a dark place," Aragorn replied slyly.
"That's rather vague."
"It was a vague place."
Legolas rolled his eyes. "Oh, please." He did not like this conversation, and if he could pry his mind away from the images of his friend, unresponsive, he would change subjects, but his mind would not cooperate. The fear was too strong.
The Mirkwood warriors caught something in his voice for they asked no more questions. Everyone, including Raniean and Trelan, turned their attention back to their surroundings, watching the trees for unfriendly creatures. He felt Aragorn shift behind him, then lay his head on his shoulder. The human's breath ghosted against his neck.
"It was dark," Aragorn breathed too softly for the others to hear. "A voice wanted me to stay, to let go, and I wanted to listen. It was so tempting. If I stayed, I knew I would hurt you, for death may be your reward for your friendship." Legolas had gone very still, listening closely as Aragorn spoke, explaining to the elf prince his journey, what had caused the prince so much fear and pain. "I . . . wandered close to dath, floated in flase serenity, but there was no pain, and that was what I sought to escape. Pain. I would not see. . . . Hope. Hope showed me the path, reminded me what I would lose, what you would lose . . . that the future was not set. It could be changed. I decided to live. No matter how much I thought it would hurt, I could not leave you or Ada or the twins. So I came back."
"Hannon le," Legolas whispered after several moments of silence. He was glad his friend had told him. As strange as it sounded, knowing what had happened, some of his friend's pain, helped ease his own. "I'm glad you came back."
"So am I." He could feel the human smile, then he raised his head and looked around. "I'm glad I left my pack at the palace."
Legolas frowned slighty, thrown by the change of subject. "Why?"
"We lost our packs," the human explained. "I would have hated to lose your gift."
"You keep it with you?" the prince asked, surprised.
Aragorn just smiled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The moon, just past a quarter full, floated high in the sky, hovering ghostly pale in the sky among the twinkling stars, Earendil brightest among them and nearly radiating peace, a peace which came from hope. Aragorn could not even begin to count the number of times he had looked up to the stars to find solace, the strength to go on. They had been an anchor, holding him steady among the battering, crushing darkness during the long years of his travel alone, and the only thing he had left to cling to in the night when he lay awake after dark dreams threatened to drown him in the choking depths of hopelessness.
Now, though, they were a promise that no matter how dark things became, how lost, how hopeless, that there was always light, that happiness would return if he just held on long enough. That was what he had nearly lost on that strange journey, the faith that there was light and hope worth holding onto. Friends were that light, that hope. And Legolas was the best he could hope for.
The stars twinkled down on him as if in approval, and he smiled, a small, soft, sad smile, yet peaceful just the same. Yes, he could hold onto his friends and never let them go until the end of his life, but those he loved would never be able to do the same. One day he would leave, and they would have to let him go, one day far too soon that nevertheless hovered on the horizon. One day, no matter how much he might wish it to be otherwise, he would break their hearts. And that broke his.
A soft knock startled him out of his reverie. "Come in, Legolas," he bid quietly, knowing the elf would hear him.
The door opened and closed, and Aragorn heard the whisper soft steps of his friend cross the room, audible only because it was and had been silent in his room. He shifted over, and Legolas perched on the side of the bed. "You should be sleeping," he observed quietly.
"So should you," Aragorn answered, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was trying not to break the silence, but really because he did not need to.
"I had a feeling you would still be awake," was the reply. The elf pulled a leg up and rested his hands around it, then perched his chin on his knee and studied the human beside him. "How are your hands?"
"Better."
"And your head?"
"As well as it has ever been." Legolas chuckled quietly and Aragorn ventured a question of his own. "And you, my friend? How are your legs?"
"On the mend, obviously. I walked in here, did I not?"
"But were you supposed to?"
"Don't mother me, Strider," retorted the prince. Aragorn laughed. "They weren't crushed, just felt like it. They were barely even broken. It was just the nerves, mostly. They'll be as good as new in a day or so."
Aragorn nodded and went back to staring out the window. Neither really wanted to talk about their injuries, numerous as they were, especially after escaping from the healers, and by silent mutual agreement, they decided to take the other's presence as proof that they were well and let it be.
Legolas glanced at Aragorn out of the corner of his eyes. He did not like the sadness he saw in his friend, a subdued feeling that had been in place ever since they had escaped those cursed caves. It troubled him that the young man was growing up so quickly, that things troubled him so much. Yet the human seemed calm, far calmer than the last time he had laid in these halls, at least. But he hated the thought of such sadness being the price.
"You are tired, Ranger," he observed. "Why do you not sleep?"
The human beside him did not answer immediately, staring up at the stars, but when he did answer, it was not to the question the prince had asked. "Hannon le, Legolas."
The elf blinked. "For what?"
Silver eyes turned to him, as serious as he had ever seen them. "For not giving up on me. For being here for me."
Legolas swallowed hard, his mind automatically racing to those moments when he was sure his friend was dead. To his surprise, Aragorn smiled. "I'm not talking about in the cave, though there is that, too. I mean before. When I showed up at your door, a hysterical mess that had no idea what he wanted. And you stayed by me, helped me hold on."
"You would and have done the same for me," Legolas said, voice soft.
"That does not take away from the sacrifice," Aragorn insisted. "And it means a lot to me. Doing things for others is part of who I am. It's different being on the receiving end."
Legolas smiled gently. "You're welcome."
Aragorn smiled back. He tilted his head closer to the elf prince and asked, "What's on your mind, mellon nin?"
A soft laugh escaped the fair being. "And you say my people see through you," he replied wryly. That same melancholy smile graced the ranger's lips. "It can wait, my friend."
The ranger frowned and sat up, swinging around so he could look the elf straight in the eye. "What can wait?"
Legolas started to get up but Aragorn made a grab for the elf's clothing, wincing as his fingers caught in his friends clothes and from the movement inherent in the gesture. His friend stopped, watching with concern. Aragorn looked up again after a moment to find Legolas watching him with wide eyes.
"Truly, it can wait, Strider," he said, voice low.
Aragorn shook his head, biting down on the impulse to flex his fingers. The idea was to relieve pain, but such an action would only increase it. "I could not sleep, and shall not be able to now. And if you could not sleep, either, and will not, then you might as well tell me now." Mischief shone suddenly in his eyes, and the boy he had been was easy to imagine, his expression suddenly sly. "I knew elves had forever, but I had not imagined they procrastinated, my prince."
The blonde-haired elf shoved him gently, and hmphed. Mock glaring at the man before him. "I'll have you know I was thinking of you."
"I'm touched," Aragorn said, surpressing a grin. "But, as you can see, there is no need to wait."
Not truly desiring to argue, Legolas sat back down. He bit his lip, then busied himself with his fingers, idly playing with them. "It's nothing, really. I just . . . needed to be sure."
"Sure of what?"
"That I wasn't dreaming," whispered Legolas. Aragorn had to lean forward to hear him, and even then he almost missed the quiet words.
Then he leaned back, mind racing as he tried to figure out why his friend would think he was dreaming. As much as being in the hearlers' ward, being poked and prodded, was like a nightmare, unless they gave one something there was no doubt about being awake. Of course, there was that whole trip which could pretty much fall under a very strange dream, starting when they left Thranduil's halls, but there had been a number of those, and Legolas had never seemed particularly bothered by them.
Perhaps he had been dreaming and had decide it seemed too real to accept the assurances of his mind. But, then, why come to him? Why would he? Elves did not . . . unless it was about him. He cocked his head. "What kind of dream?"
Legolas shook his head. "It is no matter. Thank you, Strider." The elf stood abruptly and began striding towards the door. There was something about his posture that bothered the ranger. . . .
"The strange thing about fate, Estel, is that you never know when it will close in. . . ."
~*~
He was nine and three quarters, due to turn ten in a month and a half and it was a beautiful day. The weather was warm, with a gentle and dry breeze keeping it that way. He was inside, but the windows were open and he was with Ada; it did not matter what he was doing. Today, though, he was learning about different herbs. There were so many! His silver eyes were wide as he struggled to absorb everything.
". . . and this is athelas," his Ada finished.
He looked up from the herb into deep blue eyes. "What does athelas do?"
A hand was laid on his shoulder. "Some use it to relieve headaches, but in the hands of a few, it can do much more."
"Like what?"
"You will learn, in due time, Estel," Ada said. "For now, just know what it looks like, and its names."
"Names?"
A smile quirked the elf lord's lips as he was interrupted once more. "Aye, names. It is also called kingsfoil in the common tongue and asea aranion." The boy turned the leaves over in his hand, examining them from every angle.
The boy looked back up. "When is the 'due time'?"
"When it comes," answered Ada.
"But when?"
The elf lord went down on a knee so he was nearly level with the boy and took him by the arms. "It will come when it will come. You need not wish for it nor look for it. Be a boy, Estel. You will grow up quick enough as it is, and one day you may wish to be a boy once more but you shall not get it. The strange thing about fate, Estel, is that you never know when it will close in on you, and rarely want it when it does, no matter what you wished before." He smiled at the youth who was staring at him so intently, then brushed away some of his unruly hair, earning a cocky grin in return. "I think that's enough for today. Why don't you go play?"
Estel's face lit like a firecracker, then melted into earnest apprehension. Did he dare ask for what he wanted? He licked his lips. "Could you--I mean. Ada, would you play with me?"
The elf lord smiled and stood. "Oh. I think that can be arranged this time. . . ."
~*~
Fate.
Aragorn sat up straighter, nearly jumping off the bed. "Legolas! Wait."
The elf paused at the door and turned questioning eyes on his friend, whatever he was feeling locked tightly away. There was no sign that things were otherwise than the elf said. "Yes?"
Still, for some reason, he could not let his friend simply leave and go back to his room. Possibly, it was because he did not want to be alone. He took a deep breath. "I . . . Legolas, would you care to stay? I--it--" He frowned, then shrugged. "The night has ever seemed brighter by your side."
A small smile graced the elf's features, but some of the tension, tension that he had never noticed was present until it disappeared, seemed to have faded. He nodded, then stepped out quickly, returning in moments with his pillow. It was the work of only a few moments to set up their sleeping arrangements. The pair crawled under the covers and settled, staring at the ceiling.
"Good night, Legolas," bid Aragorn.
"Good night, Strider," came the echo, and both relaxed. To Aragorn's surprise, sleep came easily, and within moments he knew no more of the waking world. Legolas was quick to follow. Both slept all the easier for the other's presence.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In another place, far away from the peace of the elven palace of Mirkwood, dark creatures crawled. In a dark land, evil did not sleep. But darkness has many forms, and shadows follow everywhere. Darkness is not necessary.
By a pool, filled with crystal clear water, the bottom full of smooth stones plainly visible, crouched a small figure, unidentifiable as anything that had ever walked Middle-earth before or since.
It crouched, little, brittle hands moving from feet to mouth over and over. A small, slipping slurp sounded from beneath the hood. It was alone, surrounded on all sides by green leaves and lush grass. Tinkling could be heard in the distance as water dropped into the pool, but it did not seem to care, it did not seem to hear.
Then cracking could be heard, slowly coming closer, and the creature stilled, it's head coming up. The light shifted, falling across the form at the creature's feet and spilling across its hands. Blood. Fresh blood.
The crashing came closer, heedless of where is went, what it approached, unaware of any possible danger. Then, with a delighted giggle, a child burst from the brush across from the creature, continuing all the way forward until his small feet splashed in the water. He clapped and jumped. The creature did not move, and curious blue eyes studied it. The child giggled again and clapped, but still it did not move.
Uncertainty marred the young one's face as worry began to replace excitement at this new thing. Then, the dark figure crouched further, moving forward on hands and feet. Slowly, the child took a step backward, erased by a step of the creature. Anxiety burned in the child, and he stepped back again.
Green eyes, unbearabley bright, flashed from beneath the hood, almost human in size and shape. Fear froze the child to his spot and the creature leapt.
The child screamed. Blood ran in the clear water of the pool.
Epilogue
Three figures stood on the steps of the Last Homely House. All had long black hair and piercing blue eyes. Two shared the same face and wore the same clothes, dressed in browns and tans and wearing black cloaks made of rough material--at least as rough as elven clothing ever was. The third wore robes of blue, both dark and light that fell elegantly around his legs and a thin circlet sat upon his brow. A small smile parted his lips as he watched the other two shoulder packs.
"We will be back in a few months, Ada. Maybe three," Elladan said. "It should not take longer than that to deliver these messages."
"Send word if you learn anything about Estel," Elrohir spoke up, blue eyes anxious. "We would hear how he is, but the waiting. . . ."
"I understand, my sons," Elrond said, his voice calming. "Should word come of Estel, I will send you word however I may. Be careful on your journey."
"We will, Ada," Elladan assured. They hugged, then the twins walked away and swung quickly up onto their horses. Both looked back quickly, then spurred their mounts on, riding away from their home and into the wild at a fast clip.
Elrond understood their desire, could even appreciate it and agree with it, but he wished they did not desire a task that would take so long. His father's heart was not sure he could stand for such uncertainty concerning all three of his sons. Deep down, he feared he would lose them all.
With a last, sad glance toward the horizon, the lord of Rivendell walked back inside to try and distract himself from his own worries.
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*smiles* Hi. These are the review responses for chapters 17 and 18.
Elfmage: I cannot even begin to go back to the beginning and respond individually to every single treasured review. I had the best time reading them, though, and they really made my day. I'm glad you love it. And no, they never learn. But the bad guys never learn either so they're even. *g* A nice guess! Bravo! Lol. Thank you for the crown, it fits wonderfully, but don't let Cassia and Sio know you gave it to me. *g* (I actually think they're better at it.) Truly peotic? I'm glad it worked. Lol. Yes, I imagine that's about right. I do know the sort, and I think Legolas will get his due soon enough. *gives evil smile* Yes, soon enough. Thank you!
Grumpy: lol, yes, too much to hope that it's a St. Bernard. Can you tell I love spine-tingling-end-of-chapter one-liners? *g* Guilt trips are very contagious. Be wary.
Bill the Pony: lol. Eureka! You liked it! Lol. *g*
Now, with any luck, I really will have the sequel out by New Years. Pray for it. Until next time. *g*