Ahem… I must stop doing this. I'll post my stories on Mondays/Tuesdays so I can use the weekends more effectively. It is a very long chapter, about 4500 words, if that's any consolation… probably not. I've only just got out of police custody for godsake! Apparently trying to abduct David Beckham is a tad illegal, pah! It's my human right to lock the man I love in a cupboard… or at least it's in his best interests to leave that bitch of a wife and claim a better life with me! Yup, that's what I told the coppers and they released me on bail pending sectioning. Aah, smell the freedom! Just in time to watch our egg-chasers claim that alarmingly small world cup trophy, and holding one's breath for an hour and a half is not recommend, you lose feeling in your toes… Mmm, Mr Wilkinson - another one to add to my 'Must do' list – Geddit? Damn, Alice, your mind is a filthy, filthy, place. This chapter is also late for another reason, that I'll explain at the end, otherwise, I'll spoil the whole damn thing. Anyway, don't be hasty… Mehehe, oh how I love the EE! It's bloody wonderful isn't it? He was twitching! Hehe… I could go on all night.
This chapter is dedicated to Lita of Jupiter as she has inadvertently changed the entire future of this story. Well done love, therefore is also part of the reason this chapter is late. Rotten vegetables in her direction please.
Chapter Sixteen: Freedom
His bare feet skimmed the sprawling grass, approaching the pair in a carefully executed silence. Creeping through the field he had fled from, his heart grew heavy. The dead lifeless bushes stared down at him like the skeletons of the men he had killed; his conscience was weighing heavily on him now. He hadn't really hated Donvan, or Grudoc at that, but it was a matter of survival. Carinyc was a different story. He despised him so much it made him ill. He hated that he would never forget his boastful smile as he-
"Not now." Estel grimaced, taking a deep breath, trying to clear his head of painful memories.
He had to help his friend, which was all that mattered at this point. Edging a little closer, the pair came into focus, Legolas facing in his direction. The sight alarmed the grim faced boy, but didn't shock him. Estel was just glad he was still alive. The elf's head was bowed, his long fair locks fluttering in the gathering breeze, unsure if Legolas was still conscious. He shuffled nearer, his mind becoming firmly fixed on his task. His eyes darkened and he settled on one knee at the edges of the wiry hedge, the opening where Raenir had hacked his way through in pursuit of him now provided a clear shot. Raising his bow, his heart thumped nervously, his hands shaking.
He froze.
Laughter echoed around the low hills. Estel's eyes darted around anxiously but fell upon the form of his friend. Legolas' head reared up drained, but a smile remained plastered across his fair face.
"I would continue to keep a close eye if I were you." He mused. "Not for Donvan, he's dead, but for all those vengeful elves slowly surrounding you. Have you devised your escape plan yet?"
"Be silent!" The human roared angrily, striking him across the face.
"You haven't…?" Legolas replied with feigned surprise. "Let me help you. South will lead you to Tharbad; a nice town at this time of year, I'm told, not a prime location for elves, but I rather think that would work in your favour. East are the mountains, Moria; dwarves and such like, but I hear tales of foul dealings there. West takes you toward the Shire, suspicious of the big folk they are, and I doubt you would be very welcome. North is hardly an option, and many of the Rangers and a few of my kin are in Gondor, so that'll be risky." He let in a sharp intake of breath. "Not many options."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"I was simply trying to save you from your bleak fate." He spoke casually, his tone mocking the human. "I don't know why I bother, you try to help a fellow in his time of peril and all gives you is an attitude and brute force."
Estel almost smiled. What on earth was Legolas doing? The elf's tongue was racing faster than his heart was. He doubted he even knew what he was speaking of, but his ceaseless prattling was distracting Raenir, which obviously had its benefits.
"He's not afraid of you and neither am I."
"Is he not?" Raenir asked calmly.
"He's stronger than you think."
The ebony haired man stared at him hard, but a smirk crept across his bearded face and he scratched his chin idly.
"Perhaps." He replied softly. "But I remember that terror in his eyes when I caught him, he was so afraid of me that he abandoned you."
The blond elf held his gaze, unblinking, his eyes unreadable.
"Carinyc told me how much he regretted having to kill you both."
"Carinyc was sick." Legolas spat.
The broad figure snickered. "No, he just had a different taste to most. Estel is a pretty little thing, you think the same, I can see it in your eyes."
"He is a child! And your… friend violated his innocence, how can you condone such an evil act?" The elf growled furiously.
"I did the same."
Legolas' eyes widened with dread, a sickening fear that they had harmed his young companion again. Anger boiled in his veins and a fresh hatred festered in his heart.
"Then you are as revoltingly evil as he. Forget the others, I will have my revenge and you will wish you were dead." He hissed venomously.
Raenir laughed coldly. "I can see why he liked our young friend so much, to see all that fear and disbelief in those big, round silver eyes, it is quite the adrenaline rush. Listening to him screaming and begging me to stop. I should have waited until you had awoken and done it in front of you, perhaps that would have brought a scream to your lips."
Unable to bear looking at this man any longer, his gaze shifted to the land around him, a faint hope that his forecast had not been empty lingered, but there was little sign of it. Fury and a stinging remorse hung heavy in his heart, he was so angry with himself so letting it happen to Estel again. As much as he had despised the man, he had never believed he was capable of the same evil Carinyc was. His head was spinning. Was Raenir speaking the truth, or was he simply winding him up? Was it another game? He didn't know. Legolas' stomach churned at the thought. Scanning the nearby field hazily, trying to calm himself down, he suddenly spotted the small figure of Estel watching him. Their eyes met for a moment, but the shivering boy quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson.
The elf's heart sank at his reaction and closed his eyes to mask the tears welling in his blue eyes.
Estel felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and rubbed his bleary eyes. His hands shook from the cold and anger at Raenir's lies, the last thing he needed was for Legolas to pity him even more than he did now. Carinyc had inflicted enough humiliation. His body tensed, and he took up his bow once more and pointed it toward them.
The fair being glanced back to his friend and immediately stiffened nervously at the sight. Raenir was only a few feet away from where he hung, Estel's poor aim was alarmingly fresh in his mind and he unintentionally flinched. He prayed his skills had miraculously improved, and his arrow didn't sail agonizingly wide and expose his presence… or even hit him.
Steadying his breathing, the silver-eyed child tried to bite back the uncontrollable shivering. A lock of hair fell from his tight bun and flickered across his forehead. Drawing it back, his face darkened and he released the arrow without hesitation. He watched it fly in the air and slice through the rope with ease. Legolas crumpled down to the ground weakly and Raenir spun around, startled, reaching for his sword. Estel stepped through the scythed hedgerow, drawing his sword calmly.
Face stern.
Eyes unreadable.
They watched each other for a moment, their blades held tightly in their hands. Legolas looked at the stand off helplessly, his arms aching so much that he could barely move. Estel's expression scared him. He had never seen eyes as dead as his, nor a face so determined. The elf's chest heaved and he tried desperately to catch his breath, gather himself enough to help his friend.
The first blows were tentative. Opening strokes to test one another, the metal chinking speculatively. They edged in a circle tensely, jabbing and retreating, waiting for the first real attack to be launched. Estel's heart thudded nervously, his hands still shaking.
"It is just you left." The younger human announced calmly. "Only you can kill me."
Raenir frowned. "You are a liar."
"Do you honestly believe he is still searching for me in the woods?"
He snapped the blade sharply at him, ripping the fabric of the man's tunic. He jumped back, unhurt but a little unnerved.
"I do not think a little boy could defeat him." He replied airily but the anxiety was written all over his face.
"Maybe you should widen your views, denial can make you vulnerable." Estel spat. "He's lying dead on the forest floor." Coolly taking a few steps back, he lowered his blade and merely looked at his enemy. "I lured him deeper into the woods, so I could use the extra cover against him… He didn't know what hit him."
Raenir watched him, taken aback by his unusual mood. The dark haired boy, moved his knife silkily, out of range from any sudden attack, eyes locked on his opponent.
"Bang!" He cried, stabbing his sword forward slightly at chest height. "An arrow to the heart, just...like…Carinyc." A grim smile appeared. "Legolas was right, I'm not afraid of you. Do you know why?"
His deep brown eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he could not think of how to reply and just shook his head.
"Because… if you were any kind of warrior, you would have struck while my guard was down." He growled and launched forward.
Estel's blade moved so fast that he struggled to defend himself. The shuddering child ducked and spun, lashing out ferociously. The steel clattered so hard, the hilt quivered in each of their grasps. His face grew darker and more unyielding, if that were possible.
His eyes remained as glassy and unaffected as the lone moon.
Slashing.
Stabbing.
Pure attack.
The swift assault seemed unrelenting; Raenir could do little but frantically block each vicious blow. Estel was barely aware of how fast he was moving, or the non-existent defence he put up. He was in a trance.
A haze of desperation.
He just wanted it to be over.
His head swam, each clang of blades ringing in his ears like far away bells. His arms ached but he continued at the blistering pace he set.
The elf remained on the ground, panting. His limbs felt heavier than lead, his shoulders screaming in agony. His throbbing hands fumbling uncomfortably with the severed rope until the tight bonds finally loosened around his pale wrists. He sighed with relief and tried to climb to his feet, but he collapsed infuriatingly weakly to the ground.
The intense duel ran in this fashion for almost ten minutes, Estel on the attack and Raenir blocking his ever-tiring strikes as the wicked human slowly found his bearings. Each slash became wilder and more laboured and Raenir struck for the first time. The tip of his blade caught the struggling boy's shoulder and cut painfully into his flesh.
Estel gasped and stumbled backwards as if he had finally woken up. Legolas watched wide-eyed and forced himself onto his unsteady feet, straining to help his injured friend.
His trembling hand moved to the gash, the blood soaking into his damp clothes, and laced his fingers. Staring at it dumbfounded, he didn't see the next blow come. The hilt of Raenir's sword connected with his jaw and he fell to his knees, coughing sickly scarlet mouthfuls of blood onto the sinewy blades of wild grass. The pain reverberated through his body; his head pounding so intensely he thought it would burst. A soft moan escaped his lips and he tried to get up, grappling for the sword he has lost.
The heavy sole of his opponent's boot connected with his back, ripping open some of his healing lacerations. Blood roared from the wounds and he rolled over to look up at his grinning enemy, their eyes meeting in a last lingering stare. There was no fear. None of the terror you would expect from a child, or even anyone, in such a dire position.
Acceptance.
A grim recognition lined his features, and he sighed calmly, climbing back to his feet.
"No more games." Raenir muttered, the vicious glint of his sword pointing at him, shimmering dangerously.
A stream of crimson seeped down his chin, dripping onto his clothes. Closing his eyes, the stony scowl that had haunted his face since his encounter with Carinyc faded as the blade was thrust forward.
He fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
His ebony locks falling over his closed eyes. Blood dribbled gently into a small pool, staining the soil. Legolas looked down at him wide-eyed and slumped to his knees, his elven grace deserting him in his state. Rolling him onto his back, he grimaced and a gentle sigh escaped his lips. Running his fingers through his blonde mane, his eyes trailed up regretfully.
"He's still alive." He whispered.
A slight nod was the only reaction he got.
"Estel?" Legolas murmured, placing his hand against the child's cheek.
He shied away from his touch, staring at the still form of the unconscious human. A small wound from the blow Legolas inflicted to his skull bled slightly but it wouldn't kill him. Pity, he thought sadly. He felt sick. Estel eventually turned back to face his friend, the elf's gaze burning uncomfortably into his skin. Legolas knelt on the grass, a small relieved smile lighting up his exhausted face, and a dirty streak of blood trailed from his nose.
"It is over." He said softly, his blue eyes twinkling.
Taking a step closer, the young being nodded with a feigned smile. "You are hurt."
"Nay, I will be fine. Your injuries concern me more."
Rubbing his shoulder tentatively, he shook his head. "Nothing more than a scratch." Estel muttered. "What are we to do with him?"
Looking at Raenir, his face darkened. "I am tempted stick my knife in his gut and leave him to die," The elf admitted hatefully. "But I shall let your father decide his fate."
He nodded vacantly, his bloodstained hands rubbing his chin awkwardly. "About what he said… about me-"
Legolas met his gaze, alarmed than even the slightest spark of emotion was lost in his once glimmering eyes, he traced his fingers softly along his swollen jaw line.
"He will pay for what he did to you." He replied reassuringly. "I will make sure of it."
"He lied… I escaped before he could do anything." Estel spoke firmly. "I would not have you think I was that weak."
The elf frowned, but part of him rejoiced that he had not been attacked again. "The last thing I think… is that you are weak, little one. There is not a moment that passes when I am not impressed by your character. We shall get through this."
"Do not speak of this to my family… I will tell them when I am ready." The young boy whispered, looking to the ground.
"If you wish, but-"
"Thank you." Estel cut him off before he could voice his concerns. "Shall we camp here? We are in no fit state to move on and are no longer running from anything."
"Would you not prefer to continue our path home? There is still a mighty trek ahead of us."
"Legolas, you are in more pain than you care to say, and I am weary. I do not think I can face riding on that horse again today." He spoke softly, but there was a painful distress in his voice that made the elf back down.
They sat in silence as Estel checked the elf's injuries over in front of the campfire he had erected. The flames licked the dry timber and warmed the human's back, easing the crippling chill that had crept into his bones. He pressed gently against Legolas' bruised stomach and frowned, glancing up at his friend, who was trying to disguise his discomfort.
"I think you've cracked a couple of ribs. There is little I can do with our basic supplies, but you should take it easy and try not to move too much."
The fair elf nodded with a faint smile. "Do not worry about me, you should think of yourself."
"I am alright, Legolas." Estel managed a smile. "The hurt is not much."
He watched the young being for a moment, his face was certainly lighter but his shoulders hunched with the great weight this saga had inflicted upon him. Peeling his drying tunic off carefully, Estel hissed quietly at his bloodied back and dropped the soiled bandages into the pot of water boiling noisily over the fire. He cleaned his wound awkwardly, struggling to reach with his sore shoulder.
"Let me do that." The elf strained to his feet.
Nodding reluctantly, he handed the dripping cloth to his friend and turned away. Legolas ran it as gently as he could over the nasty gash, working swiftly but meticulously. He could feel the tension in the child's body, noticing his clenched fists and quivering lip. There was an uncomfortable silence and he drew away his hand, looking to the ground, his eyes fell upon his bow.
"I am glad to see your aim has mysteriously improved." He remarked airily.
Estel glanced at him. "Hardly… I was trying to hit him, not you." He replied quietly.
The pair fell silent once more, Legolas looked away as a smile threatened to creep across his face. Biting his lip, he let out a most unelven snort and began to laugh.
"That was graceful." The human smirked.
"I have spent too long in your company, I feel as if I'm turning into a clumsy human." He muttered with a wicked smile. "I smell like one too."
Sniffing him loudly, he grimaced. "I would say it was more of an Orkish odour."
Legolas batted him across the ear playfully, but winced as a sharp pain ripped through his stomach. Watching him with concern, the youngster ordered him to rest as the afternoon sun threatened to break through the hazy cloud cover. The wind whirled around them, making the fire crackle irritably as Estel carefully removed a saucepan of a bubbling brown broth. Pouring it into a bowl that he had found in Raenir's pack, he placed it next to the elf, and helped him into a sitting position.
"I cannot guarantee it tasting of much, but it will numb the pain and make you feel a little better."
The fair being smiled warmly and thanked him. "I should be looking after you, friend, not the other way round. You must rest and eat some of this."
"No, as annoying as it must be for you, I am relatively well and you are not. Now, if you do not cease this whinging then I shall be forced to bind your arms and legs and throw you into the river." He raised an eyebrow threateningly.
"I was not whinging, I was simply-"
"Moaning?"
"No-"
"Whining like a elf-maiden?"
"I do not whine! Can I not show compassion and concern without it being construed as whining?" Legolas asked exasperatedly.
"Just drink your broth."
"Eat." The elf corrected.
"Does it really matter?" Estel sighed.
Legolas laughed lightly and tucked into the relatively tasteless, but pleasant enough broth, while the silver-eyed human watched eagerly. A small smile lit up his sore face as the firstborn swallowed the last spoonful.
"I will take first watch."
Estel's smirk widened. "No, you won't." He said matter-of-factly.
The elf frowned. "I will not have you doing everything, you need some sleep."
"You have little say in the matter. You really should know better than to swallow something I prepared by now." His voice was tinged with a smug bemusement.
The last minutes of daylight slipped away and darkness slowly enveloped the quiet lands. The last songs of the birds died away and the silvery glow of the crescent moon dimly illuminated the sparse fields. The campfire roared on, the warmth making Estel a little sleepy, but he shook it off, glancing at his dozing friend. Legolas had been furious. He cared little and was grateful for the silence and privacy. He doubted he could face sleeping anyway, the image of Carinyc still haunting his mind.
Glancing down, he grimaced and checked the cooling balm he had concocted to try and ease the pain. He peeled off his trousers, sliding them down his tender thighs gently. Wincing, he sat back down on the ground and traced his fingers along the menacing bruises and stinging scratches. He couldn't believe how painful the superficial wounds were, no doubt worsened by the horse, but he didn't remember it hurting so much at the time. The deep purple bruises were gathered like storm clouds, the scarlet streaks like bolts of unwelcome lightning. His hands had been everywhere. Polluting his skin. Staring at them, his lip trembled and a lone tear rolled down his tender cheek. They were laughing at him. A constant reminder he'd been there. Why wouldn't they just disappear? Running his fingers miserably through his hair, he closed his eyes in disgust.
"He certainly left his mark on you." A voice said, a cruel laughter following.
His eyes flew open and fell upon Raenir, who was now sitting up against the lone tree, his wrists and ankles bound tightly. Mortified, he pulled his trousers up desperately, biting back the pain it caused. His face hardened, and he glanced over to the unconscious form of Legolas.
"Speak not to me, I will not listen to your venomous words." Estel growled.
"You cannot fool me. You are nothing but a scared little boy trying to hide behind that stony exterior." The older human hissed.
He looked away, staring at the golden flames flickering against the dimming background.
"I told your elf that Carinyc could be very vicious. He didn't care though; thought it was up to you to take care of yourself… said you were a big boy-" Raenir snorted with laughter. "What he meant," His eyes trailed over his slim body. "I do not know."
The curly haired youth said nothing, and simply fiddled with his bootlaces casually.
"He thought you were so pretty, he couldn't take his eyes off you while you swam in the river with your brothers. I'd never seen him so excited, he was like a… little boy." He laughed out loud at his own words. "I knew you would not escape him."
Estel clenched his jaw and turned to face him. "Is there a point to this?" He asked irritably.
Brushing his remark aside, he rubbed his head with both hands. "What say you remove these silly little restraints and we can finish what we started?"
He paled, staring at him wide-eyed. "Why can you not leave me alone?" His voice squeaked.
"You know, you are right. I wouldn't touch you anyway." The dark eyed man replied coolly. "Tainted goods."
His cheeks burnt and he looked to the floor uncomfortably.
"Yes, you know of what I speak." Raenir smirked nastily. "No one's going to want to touch you. Look at you! You're despicable, you put on this innocent front but everyone knows you wanted it."
"I wanted nothing!"
"Of course you did. You could see it in those pretty eyes of yours, you were asking for it-"
"No."
"You led him on-"
"NO!" Estel cried angrily.
"I could see the lust in the elf's eyes, he regarded you as highly as Carinyc… but now, he thinks the same as I; you're polluted. He wanted something unspoiled, not a filthy little whore. No one will ever want you now." The man's voice hissed spitefully.
Rubbing his temple agitatedly. "Shut up." He mumbled.
"And your so-called father – as if he will want to burden himself the likes of you. A lying, troublesome, impure scrawny wretch, what pride can he have in that?"
The youngster twitched and rose to his feet. "Be silent." He ordered lowly.
"I doubt if could even bear to look at you."
Tears began to roll involuntarily down Estel's face and he furiously wiped them away. "Shut up!"
"Face it – you're a freak." A wicked smile, lighting up his menacing eyes.
"SHUT UP!" He screamed, storming over to him.
"Freak!" He taunted.
"SHUT UP!"
The younger human kicked out at him angrily, his boot connecting with Raenir's temple and he collapsed back into the trunk unconscious. Stumbling backwards, he stared at him, stunned at his reaction. His lip trembled and he slumped to the ground, pulling his legs up to his chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks hard and fast. Sinking his head into his knees, he sobbed hysterically.
He felt so disgusting.
Looking down at himself, his stomach turned. Raenir was right; his family wouldn't want him now. Who would want such a poor excuse of a son? His head was so scrambled. Had he led Carinyc on? Not intentionally, but perhaps he had nonetheless. So, maybe he did deserve it. Maybe he did deserve to feel like this.
He was a freak.
Why had he not stopped him earlier? Perhaps he really did want Carinyc to touch him. He was so confused. He just wanted to feel normal again. Why had this happened? Why him? Out of all the people in Middle Earth, why did they choose him? He must have been asking for it. What other possible reason was there?
Now, he was tainted goods. Impure. Spoiled. The humiliation burned inside him. He couldn't even look at himself anymore. He loathed the sight. He didn't even feel like himself anymore. Nothing belonged to him.
His mind invaded by these evil memories.
His body contaminated by Carinyc's dirty hands.
He even smelt different, his musty scent lingering maliciously to his skin.
Estel gazed up at the stars as they twinkled mockingly down on him. He couldn't bear to feel like this anymore. So detached. Filthy. The thought assaulted him like an infection, gnawing at his soul. Looking away blearily, he spotted his knife, the blade glinting at him invitingly.
A chance to make this all go away.
Peace of mind.
No more pain.
Estel stared at it for over an hour until all the land was lost in the suffocating blanket of silence night brought. His head span, but he could not keep his eyes off it. Tears continued to pour down his cheeks miserably but a calm filtered slowly through his veins, and he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from Raenir's belongings, along with a weathered pencil. Taking a deep breath, he scribbled down whatever came into his head, trying to steady his trembling hands. He dropped the pencil and folded the paper roughly, a sudden impatience growing and he clambered to his feet, clasping the blade between his fingers.
He glanced at the sleeping elf, it wouldn't be long before it wore off and he awoke. Biting his lip nervously, he knelt beside him and stroked the long tresses fondly. Most of Raenir's words had been true, but not those about Legolas. He didn't believe a word.
Estel placed a last kiss on his pale cheek. "Farewell." He whispered, turning away.
Walking slowly away from the camp, the warmth of the fire disappearing from his body as the chilly autumn night descended upon him. His feet crunched on the fallen leaves and he stepped over the sliced hedge. It was a path he had taken too many times. Where he had fled for his life. Where he had plotted Raenir's downfall. He had achieved neither.
He never thought it would end like this.
Sinking to his knees, the tears still fell down his cheeks. His heart drubbed in his chest. Holding his note tightly, he placed the blade against his wrist and closed his eyes.
Freedom.
TBC…
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I just want to feel safe in my own skinI just want to be happy again
I just to feel deep in my own world
But I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore
On a different day, if I was safe in my own skin,
Then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened
But this is today, and I'm lost in my own skin
-Dido, Honestly Ok
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sorry, I don't normally do songfics, cos I don't actually get them, but this verse really stuck on me. As I was saying, trying to write a scene that emotional when your head's full of fucking 'Swing low, sweet chariot…' is pointless. It took me a while to find the right frame of mind, so I hope it was worth it.
TigerLily713 – No, I wouldn't do that to our Legless! Funny, I'd do it to wee Estel but not to ol' Legless… hmm. Something's not quite right about that. Oh well, future stories possibly. Wait, am I being stupid, but what the fuck's an ambi? Hang on…*click click click* ambidextrous. Aah. Rock on!
Jadelyn Rashwe – Are we like enemies now? You know, the whole rugby thing, cos I'm bored of all the lame Aussie jokes, and I think George Gregan (sp?) is great! He looks like all-powerful Oz!
Crystal-chan – Ooh… exploding cans? That sounds like terrorist talk to me! Fangirls and the FBI/CIA whatever, on your trail. Anyone wanna take bets on how long 'Chan lives? Ten minutes – odds on favourite. Now if knew what bishonen was, then I'd either thank you or err… hit you with it?
Maranwe1 – Insanely handsome is the word. If I saw him, I'd jump on him whether he was laughing manically or not! Is your head in its correct position now? I was rather worried when I read that…
Goldmund – I know, it's a sad change, but realistic I'm afraid. Do you know I never started this fic intending anything of this kind to happen to Estel? I made one remark in an early chapter and this whole thing sparked from an off-the-cuff comment. Oo-er!
Grumpy – His aim must be improving. I put it down to a fluke- ooh, I want an I-Pod… sorry there was an advert for it behind me. What was I saying?
Darkphoenix - *Gollum hiss* Sorry, there's something about lawyers that unnerves me. Fuck, I forgot about the family. Umm… thanks for reminding me. Kidding, honestly…ahem…
Leggylover03 – Look, 11 year-olds do not have homing devises attached to them! Middle Earth is a big-ass place and neither Estel or Legless have big arses to find…mmm… Legless' arse. Sigh. Now, where's the scene in lotr with that?!
Alex mistress squirrel – too tired to think of an insulting name. Let's call a truce. My allies have pissed off back to I-raq, something about not liking British weather and fighting random American soldiers, and well, your allies are small furry things with silly tails. Talking trees and consistency of squirrel droppings an' all that…
Silvertoekee – I know! 6am, what is that? I didn't realise it was still dark then! Legless is a tough little character, he can take a bit of rough, and he scared Raenir for a while… pity the bastard gets the ultimate revenge. Umm… I didn't just say that.
Lita of Jupiter – Hi, nice to see you again! Keep those fangirls on their leashes! The police didn't believe me when I said there were hoards of rabid ladies after me so I'm basically screwed if you let them loose. I'll be nice to him… right after this whole debacle is over…possibly.