As you can see, I'm not giving up that easily. So here's another chapter, and *gasp* I'm closing in on 30! Never thought it would be that long…

Anyway, if you happen to drop by, I'd appreciate it immensely if you could leave a review. I'm not doing this for the amount of reviews anymore, I'm doing it for myself and if there's something you like, or would see changed, please let me know. Feedback is always a good thing!

I've seen the whole trilogy now, so I've gotten some of my inspiration back. And there's still no Rain in sight, I don't know where he's gone. WHERE ARE YOU RAIN????

Alright, R&R

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that Eowyn was not farther away than she needed to be, Faramir led the escort as they rode alongside the chain of mountains that passed Rohan and stretched all the way to Minas Tirith. No one the horse lords could ever say that they had gotten lost on the way to Gondor, it was just to follow the White Mountains. Just before they had ridden out of Edoras, king Théoden had given him a letter to give to Éomer.

" Make sure he gets it", he had said, gripping tight around Faramirs wrist as he said it. Growing up with a father that ultimately went insane had taught him that such small details often hid a bigger meaning. With that he did not meant that Théoden was insane, only that the letter he had been instructed to deliver was more important that the king tried to make it seem.

Faramir had seen the king of Rohan grow more and more weary with the years and he seemed to wait for something. On more than one occasion, Faramir had found him stand in the Golden Hall, staring into nothing with his swords drawn in his right hand. Every time he had asked about it, Théoden had laughed and said he had daydreamed. That Faramir didn't doubt, it was what he daydreamed about that bothered him.

Even if Aragorn had offered him to reside at Emyn Arnen and even have his say with the restoration of Osgiliath, Faramirs decision to come with Eowyn to Edoras was not a hard one to make. Minas Tirith had been his home for his entire life, his father had been the Steward of Gondor and ruled it as a king, had prepared Boromir and his little brother to take up the task after him. There was no hard feelings against Aragorn, the crown of Gondor was rightfully his, but something stirred in Faramirs chest when he saw Aragorn move into Minas Tirith and saw the new banner at the top of Ecthelion. He felt like his time there had ended - abruptly and unexpected - and that his new time was with Eowyn somewhere else. There was two more reasons. One was that he thought Eowyn would have been unhappy there, not being able to leave Rohan for good. The second was Aragorn. He knew that Eowyn had thought she was in love with the new king, but how much she declared her love for Faramir, he always feared she would be too tempted if they stayed.

" Lord Faramir, there is something up ahead!"

He turned to see where his guard was pointing, seeing something dart over the blue skies.

" What do you think it is, Beregond?" The guard shrugged, squinting for a better view.

" It's moving too fast, my Lord. But I doubt it is a bird, it has such long wings." Faramir remembered Gwandhir, the Lord of the skies and decided not to make any premature assumptions. Maybe it was just one of those gigantic eagles that hunted for prey. But he could not help the sudden discomfort he felt.

" I would like it more if I knew what it was", he murmured and Beregond nodded his agreement. Behind him he heard the quickening steps of a horse and soon Eowyn rode next to him.

" What are you looking at?" He was about to point at it when he noticed it was gone.

" Nothing, my dear. Just trying to determine how long we have left on our road." Giving him a sideway glance, Eowyn sounded a "hmm" but nothing else.

The disappearance of the flying creature bothered Faramir more than not being able to tell what it was.

***

When the whole advance team had arrived but not been able to answer any of Celeborns many questions, he had ordered a guard to meet the Galadhrim and have it pick up their pace. He knew they marched as fast as they possibly could, but Celeborn was impatient and not to mention feeling betrayed to an extent of bloodthirsty rage and wanted them there to answer "Why". Now!

' Sire, they are here.'

Without acknowledging the guard at all, he hurried down just in time to be greeted by the impressive sight of the Galadhrim army appearing seemingly out of thin air right in front of him. As he stared at them form a line, he noticed that the rumours about Haldir was in fact not rumours. The Captain was nowhere in sight.

' What happened', he demanded and stared at the elf that stood slightly in front of the others.

' Sire, Captain Haldir stayed in Minas Tirith to help mend Prince Legolas' wounds that he acquired in the battle.' The news of Legolas being injured caused Celeborn some distress. If there was anything wrong with Legolas, King Thranduil would undoubtedly make a big deal out of it, making the alliance between Mirkwood and Lothlórien strained.

' Why was he allowed to be taken to Minas Tirith? What skill does Men possess that can heal an elf faster than their own kin?'

' The prince needed rest fast, Sire. He could not get any until we arrived here and the Captain feared it would be too late.'

Celeborn started to pace in front of the army, trying to calm down.

' Why did Haldir stay?'

The elf in charge did not answer immediately and Celeborn saw out of the corner of his eye how he looked back at his comrades.

' The Prince and the Captain have been friends for a very long time, Sire. Haldir stayed to make sure Legolas got the treatment he deserves and that nothing happens to him.'

' Neither of you could do that?'

Sweat formed on the elfs forehead and he swallowed hard.

' Captain Haldir is a perfectionist. He trusts no one with important matters.'

It was true, though. That was partially the reason why Celeborn had sent him. If someone could get the job done, it was Haldir.

' Under who's command did you return here?'

' Captain Haldirs, Sire. He put me in charge for the journey back.'

' Did anyone, besides Haldir, stay behind?'

' Yes, Sire. Prince Elrohir of Rivendell did not come back with us.'

So, both sons of his allies was now gone. It wasn't exactly gaining his purposes. This was not going according to plan. By now, Gondor should have lain in ruins, all Men dead and burned.

' How many Men did you kill?'

' Sire, we did not count, but I estimate it to be around two or three hundred.'

At least their had accomplished something.

' Sire, some of the Marchwardens are returning.'

Celeborn turned quickly and walked past the army, not giving them another glance. They had not accomplished their duty fully and would punish them suitably but they would get their chance to make amends.

Meeting the two Guardians that returned, Celeborn tried to clear his spirit a little. It would do him little good if he was in a constant foul mood.

' Sire, we have found tracks from the runaways. It seems to be two, but one of the tracks keeps changing, so we think they are more. Possibly three. One of the tracks have been identified as Queen Galadriels.'

He suddenly felt relieved, she could not escape him as easily as she had thought. Nenya cursed the doomed Queen in his head, fuelling an urge to hurt her for her deceit.

' To where do their tracks lead?'

' Towards the mountain, Sire. We think they might be heading for the mines. The dwarfs will never deny the Lady of the Light entrance.'

' Once they get inside, your search will be more difficult. Make sure you catch up before they do. And the other two, can you tell who they are?'

' They are a little more difficult. There has been no matching identification, but we recognize the pattern they used. Sire, they are definitely Marchwardens.'

So some of the traitors had not been eliminated. Someone would pay for that.

' Are there any Marchwardens that is missing?'

' Sire, Orophin and Rúmil has not reported back. But that does not mean that they…'

First Haldir and then his brothers…

' Find them, bring them here.'

' Yes, Sire.'

***

He did not know why he was sneaking, the Elves and their extraordinary hearing probably made him trample around like an oliphaunt in their ears. But Frodo decided that he should be as silent as he could in his search for Glorfindel. If he only managed to startle the dark-haired Count just a little, it would be all worth it. Peeking around a corner and seeing no one, Frodo advanced slowly towards Glorfindels rooms. As suitable for an elf of his status and friendship with the King, his rooms was magnificent. When he had first approached Glorfindel about the letters he wanted delivered, he had stepped inside without knocking and found himself staring in disbelief, while the elf simply sat quiet and waited. Of course, Frodo had been beyond embarrassed when he regained his composure, but surprisingly, the Count had simply smirked and asked if he could be of assistance.

Now was different though. Frodo was in debt to Glorfindel, which would probably result in a either very embarrassing or utterly humiliating repayment. And, this time the issue was slightly more serious.

When arriving at the door, Frodo made sure he could not be spotted in the small crack underneath it, standing with his legs spread wide and breathing slowly and as soundless as he could. But even with all this precaution, Glorfindel still outsmarted him. Coming up from behind, the Count chuckled when he saw the hobbit trying to avoid being noticed.

" I just have to ask what you are doing, Baggins, because I can honestly say I've never had anyone do that outside my door.'

" I… I am stretching. I have this muscle that is… I was waiting for you."

" I figured. What can I do for you?"

Frodo looked back at the door, still standing like he had when Glorfindel surprised him.

" Can we go inside? It's kind of… private."

" I suppose its better you stand like that where not everyone can see you. Someone might think there is something wrong with you, Baggins."

Opening the door for Frodo to enter, the hobbit scurried in as fast as he could, making sure he moved as gracefully and determined as he could. He had already made himself look like a fool.

" Sooo…", Glorfindel started, sitting in the same chair he had last time Frodo had visited. " You wanted to talk about?"

Frodo swallowed hard before answering.

" Elrond. Or…", he changed his mind and scratched his scalp, causing the brown curls to fall into his face. " It's actually kind of hard to explain. We sort of - "we" being my friends and I - well, we overheard this conversation about a spy. And since you are, well… you, we thought you might know something about it. Not that you would know for sure", he hurried to add, hoping Glorfindel had not taken it the wrong way. " Just why Lord Elrond is suspecting it."

When Frodo finally silenced, Glorfindel pursed his lips and leant further back in his chair.

" So you think I know something that Elrond does not?"

" I think you know something, that I have not told Elrond?"

Staring at him way past the limit of being comfortable (if someone staring at you ever was), Glorfindels lips spread in a smile. There was something that concerned Frodo about that smile, something about it made him feel targeted.

" I might know something, Baggins, I do not deny that. But to share this information, there is something I want you to do for me. In return of your favour."

" What?"

" I want you to go to Elrond, tell him you feel unsafe here and you want to know what is going on. Tell him you fear not only for your uncles life but also for your own. Elrond is very concerned with his guests welfare. Tell him you suspect a traitor and then recite his every word to me. And I probably don't have to tell you that this conversation we are having is strictly confidential. It means that your little hobbit friends cannot know either. Understood?"

The underlying tone and meaning caused a chill to run down Frodos spine. Did Glorfindel just ask him to deceit Elrond?

" Well? I promise you will regret turning me down, Baggins."

" I will do it."

Glorfindel stood and removed his coat, slinging it over the chairs back and smiled at Frodo.

" Good. If there is nothing else, you can go now."
Even if there was something else, Frodo wouldn't have stayed in the room for a second longer. He practically bolted for the door like the nazguls was chasing him, slamming it shut behind him and not even bothering what Glorfindel thought of it.

Pippin and Merry met him halfway down the corridor.

" Hello there, you in a hurry?"

" Glorfindel is out of his mind", he panted, dragging his two friends with him as he continued. " Absolutely insane!"

***

Orophin nearly fired an arrow by mistaking while standing watch, when he heard someone come up behind him. Only a Marchwarden could do that, and his brother was fast asleep.

' Here, Orophin', Galadriel said, handing him a bowl of water. ' You have nearly gone without liquid for a whole day.'

He gratefully accepted the water and finished it all. He wanted more but he handed it back and thanked her. His pride before his Queen forced him to seem flawless and not show any signs of distress.

' You should be resting, my Lady. There is only enough time for another hour, then we must continue.'

' I cannot sleep anyway, so lying down would only be a waste of time. I would rather know what you had planned for us. I noticed we are heading towards Moria.'

Orophin nodded and closely observed the darkness around.

' We hoped the Dwarfs would give us free passage through to the other side. It would make us disappear for a while, but our final destination would be all the more clear to our followers. However, we decided it was our best chance.'

' I agree. But are you sure we will make it though? Moria consists of mines thousands of feet down under the mountain. It is not the ideal way of flight.'

' What do you mean?'

' I mean that we might find ourselves "troubled" by the weight of the mountain and the surroundings of stone.'

Orophin sighed and wondered what he should answer. He and his brother had planned this very carefully, but plans did not always run smoothly and there was still some loose ends. They might still be caught without making it out of Lothlórien. The Dwarfs might not let them through. Walking over Caradhras was not equal to a walk in the woods and heading around the mountain would take too long. What if Galadriels assumptions was true? They'd crumple and despair in the mines? And once in Rivendell, maybe Elrond was not interested in helping them at all, only causing them to take an even longer and more risky road to Mirkwood.

' It's a risk we have to take, my Lady. If we die, we are at least free of Celeborns claws.'

' You think too much, Orophin. Let us take on step at the time. We will be welcomed by the Dwarfs, old disagreements halfway forgotten. We will make it to Rivendell and Elrond will help us in anyway he can.'

' We should not predict victory before the battle has been fought, my Lady. Many things can yet go wrong.'

' Indeed. But we are not yet out of Lothlórien either, I still have some command over this realm, dear Orophin. Besides, you and you brother is the best Marchwardens there is. No one will track you.'

Not us, Orophin agreed silently. But you are like a bonfire on an open plain. We need to get you out of harm and sight quickly.

Galadriel studied him for a while in the starlight, giving him the feeling she was reading his mind rather openly. He both hoped she did and wished she did not.

' Have you heard anything from Haldir?'

Orophin frowned at the unsuspected question.

' No, but from what I heard, the army was returning today. That was why we had to make some last minute changes to out escape plans.'

' Returning?' he heard her mutter and she started to pace around him. He stood searching the surrounding perimeter as much as he was glancing at her, wondering why these news made her mind troubled.

' Why would they return?'

' Maybe the war is over?'

' Yes, maybe. But is that good or bad? Who won? Why have I not predicted anything from the war, not even when it started? I understand that I did not see Celebrorns sudden strive for power, since it would affect me. But Elrond? Why did he not see?' Galadriel continued to ramble and ask questions of why she had not been able to foresee any of it and soon Orophin began feeling discomfort when she began asking them to him, almost like she was expecting answers.

' Maybe because it would come to affect all of you, and neither could see because of it?'

' I have foreseen things that would come to affect me in the end. The One Ring is one good example. Maybe it is Nenya that is blocking me, since it is she that holds the bonds to my communication with Elrond?'

Suddenly Orophin was struck with an overwhelming sense of being watched. He grabbed Galadriels arm and made her stand absolutely still. Something that might resemble fear rushed through his body.

' What', she whispered so silently it sounded like a breeze of wind. Not being able to tell what it was, Orophin shook his head, hoping the feeling would disappear. The intensity of the gaze lingered on him for a few moments longer before it faded away. He was ashamed to admit that he felt relieved. But he was also aware that the feeling had been so strong, so powerful and very enraged.

' It think we should leave now, my Lady. Even before the dawn.'

Standing next to him, tense like she was made of stone, Galadriels voice was no more than a sigh.

' I agree.'

***

" Seriously, Gandalf", Gimli complained after yet another pause from riding, barely enough for him to plant both his feet on the ground. The wizard frowned in a annoyed gesture and waved for him to be silent, but Gimli was tired of holding his tongue. " We haven't had a decent break in ages! Last night you barely let me sleep. Now I demand at least eight hours of solid sleep or else I will not move myself and inch from this spot!"

Gandalf seemed to have woken from a very intense trail of thought and peered down at Gimli.

" You demand, you say? Fine, we will stop when we reach the last stop before the end of your journey. We ought to be there in just under the hour. Will that be to you satisfaction, my dear, bearded companion?"

" I suppose. But I would be more satisfied if I did not have to wait even another hour."

" You really have to learn how to compromise, Gimli. You cannot always get what you want."
Gawking at the wizard, now back in his seemingly very interesting imaginary world, completely ignoring Gimli's complaints and accusations, Gimli let out a frustrating sigh. Grabbing the reins to his pony tighter, the dwarf looked around him.

After all the stories he had heard about the Lonely Mountain, and its inhabitant Smaug, he had imagined the lands to be more….burnt. A dragon would surely roam well beyond the roots of the Mountain and its nearest surroundings, burning and destroying as it went. Although, many years had passed since Smaug had been defeated - he vagely remembered a story that Bilbo had forced him to listen to, all while the old hobbit fell asleep mid-sentence and then insisted on starting over. Gimli had it almost memorized to the second chapter - and the land should, according to his calculations, have recuperated and blossomed anew.

Though, it wasn't much to kill for. Grassy plains and a few trees scattered here and there. They closed up on Mirkwood, Gandalf had told him during one of their rare conversations. Sitter there on his unreliable horse and with and old, confused and silent wizard, Gimli realized he missed Legolas' company. There was not a dull moment when one associated with the Elf. Last they had seen each other had been after the One Rings destruction, travelling together - a rare sight in its time - to the glittering caves of Helm's Deep. Sure, Legolas had probably complained just as much as Gimli had when in Fangorn, but it had been nice to share it with someone. Sadly, Gimli knew Legolas was not in Mirkwood, not even if everything had gone back to normal again. The elf rarely stayed at one place for long, always going to new places. On more than one occasion, Gimli had wondered what would happen to Mirkwood once Thranduil passed the crown on to Legolas. Being prince now, Legolas' only political assignments was going to Rivendell and attend counsels. Which combined Legolas' two passions; Travelling and Rivendell. That was another reason why Legolas and Gimli was two opposites. Gimli preferred staying one place, having something to call home. His last - and longest - place he had called home, was further north, a range of mountains where there was barely any mithril to be found, nor gold or any other precious metal. But under the circumstances, it had to do. Though all dwarfs once living there fantasised about it, rebuilding the Lonely Mountain for inhabitancy was a unrealistic dream. But now Moria had been restored and hoped had flourished, construction had already begun nearly two years back. And now, though he remembered little from his time in the Mountain, he realized that he had always considered it home.

In the middle of his line of thought, Gimli was interrupted by a tight grip on his shoulder.

" Gimli, my friend", Gandalf said breathlessly, looking hearty over the landscape and with a simple gesture of the hand presented a unforgettable sight to Gimli.

" Welcome to Mirkwood."

The Elven realms low-key charm was compared to Lórien not the most beautiful place Gimli had ever been (though he had a theory that maybe it wasn't the woods that had enchanted him in Lothlórien…) but it was still very high on the list. And that not saying little, since most places Gimli favoured the most as glittering caves, deep mines and basically anything surrounded by stone.

Mirkwood was dominated by a peculiar looking oak, golden stems and bright green leaves that seemed to reflect the sunlight and was - unlike Lóriens Golden Woods - a truly green forest.

From afar, it had looked almost ordinary, the green reflection mistaken for moist air, vaporizing and making it almost seem unreal. But standing close and clearly seeing the stems, every single leaf, smelling the mouldy yet sweet smell of the decaying seasonal leaves on the ground and hearing the soft whispers of wind through branches, seeing the tall trees stretch to the nurturing sun, Gimli was nothing short of marvelled. The complete peace that rested around this forest was elsewhere unheard of and even though the Old Forest Road may have been used by enemies, they had not left a permanent mark in its soul.

" If I were you, Gimli", Gandalf said and dismounted Shadowfaxe. " I would secure my axe to my horse. For safe keeping."

" The axe is safer in its holster, wise Wizard, so I think I might keep it there."
" If you think of me as wise, I suggest you listen to me. The trees of Mirkwood may appear kinder to strangers than Fangorn, and I can assure you there are no Ents around here. However, the spirits of the trees might not agree that your axe is safe anywhere near your hand and the Elves immortality is not the only reason they live for so long."

Gandalf had this annoying habit of lecturing you with threats, advice and history lessons, and it may be for the selfish reason to spare his ears to it, that Gimli agreed. That, and that he had his first introduction to Fangorn in fresh memory.

It was with great caution that Gimli followed Gandalf in between the trees. Leading his wilful pony by hand, Gimli concentrated hard on his surroundings. There was no hostility to be felt, not even a breeze of curiosity, which he thought was a good omen. If something completely ignored you, it probably had no intentions of hurting you.

" The journey through Mirkwood will take a few days. I would like to stay a night and talk with king Thranduil. A part of me wished he has no knowledge of the evil that has arisen, yet I have no desire to dress myself in grey and be called Stormcrow again. If he knows, he may have thoughts on how to help eliminate the evil for good."
Gimli only nodded, feeling there was nothing meant for him to answer, and Gandalf continued to mutter to himself as they walked along the recently made, well-trampled path. Gimli wondered how long it would take before he started to consider this the "road to home", and what he in that case would call it while passing in the other direction. It did not sound or feel good calling it simply the "road to Moria".

Suddenly, his pony reared back and threw its head wildly while flailing its hooves dangerously close to Gimlis head.

" Don't let go", he heard Gandalf advice only moments before the leather reins was ripped from his grasp, tearing some skin off in the process. Seconds later, the pony was all but a small grey speck far ahead on the road.

" My axe!" Gimli cried out and even made an attempt to run after the horse, even though he knew it was pointless, completely missing - or ignoring - Gandalfs annoyed frown. "That cursed beast fled with my axe!"

" Gimli, calm yourself", Gandalf said in a half-hearted attempt of consolation." Ask yourself instead why it ran."

" Why should I care? It probably mean to enrage me anyway. That pony wanted nothing more than to send my sprawling on the ground."

" Have in mind that you were not on the horse, Gimli, and that it has no use of your axe, not even in an attempt to make you angry. Something scared it and I think you should aim your worries at that for a moment."

Gimli glared at the wizard, hoping against hope that Shadowfaxe would throw an equal fit and run off with Gandalfs precious white staff. Then they could both worry about reasons later. However, Shadowfaxe looked almost bored where he stood next to Gandalf.

" Why don't we just continue", Gimli huffed and trotted off. " Maybe someone finds the bloody horse and stops it. Or that it at least has the decency to drop my axe."

To angry to acknowledge the feeling of being watched, Gimli barely waited for a bewildered and slightly worried Gandalf to follow.

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Sorry Gimlis and Gandalfs arrival to Mirkwood was so long, but I wanted to describe the way Mirkwood looks in this story. And the part with Glorfindel and Frodo, well it was just silly, although I think I kind of managed to blend some storytelling into some mindless ramble. And Faramirs observations in the sky will be of more importance later in the story!

// Zierra