Hello again!

Third time today - but may as well update while I have time...

I would like to thank everybody who reviewed - it´s wonderful to read your thoughts on this, please keep them coming!

A´mael Elehwn: Thanks so much!

Shadowfaxgal7: Glad you like it - keep commenting, please.

Star-Stallion: Sorry about the horse, was in the wrong place at the wrong time but went down bravely... I hope you´ll forgive me ;-) I´m happy you enjoy reading, your comments are very much appreciated!

Silvertoekee: Have you hooked, have I? Great! You made my day saying that :) As for the old man...hmmm, what do you think?? You´ll find out more than you may want to about him...

Rosie: Thank you for the compliment!! I´d still be thankful for corrections, I´m always eager to learn... Please keep reviewing!

Please forgive me if I missed someone, it´s sort of tricky to view the reviews sometimes, it seems...

Anyway, here´s chapter 4:

A safe haven?

Aragorn stared straight ahead as he ran, eyes fixed on the safe haven that had been a simple wooden construction only a few moments before. The dark bulk of the mill seemed to move farther away instead of growing closer, and his breath caught as his mind screamed at him, trying to get his attention. He could feel danger all around him, the first tendrils of evil lapping at his pounding feet like the gentle waves of a rising tide.

He was sweating now, and although he didn´t feel any pain, he was sure that his wounded knee would not carry him much further. The black flood washed over the fields beyond the mill, and out of the corner of his eye he could see it gaining on him from both sides. With a sinking feeling he realized that he could not outrun this living darkness.

The ever shrinking path of light in front of him melted away even as he reached deeply inside of himself to awaken the last ounce of his strength. It gave him an extra momentum but failed to safe him. The last green leaves drowned in the mass of black. There was nowhere else to treat but a vast emptiness of darkness that seemed to breathe in hungry expectation as his booted feet connected with it. To his left a shape heaved itself out of the ground, covered in patches of dying grass...

Suddenly, there was light. It poured down the meadow, washing it clean, clearing yet another path. As if it had jumped forward all on its own, the mill was there right in front of him, the door a gate of bright light. Aragorn made for it and covered the last feet in huge strides. A strong hand grabbed him and pulled him inside.

Then there was darkness again, but this one seemed peaceful enough, not inclined to rip him apart. A drum was beating in a madly racing rhythm nearby, another, more weakly, not far away. It took the ranger a moment to recognize his own heartbeat. His chest heaved painfully as he tried to get air into his lungs. He felt suffocated, like having just broken through the surface of a river that had almost drowned him in its dark waters.

"You are safe now, let go of your friend a bit." The gentle voice floated through the comfortable darkness. "Ease your hold or you´ll keep him from breathing."

For a moment Aragorn´s confused mind could not grasp what the man was talking about, but then he remembered and his eyes snapped open. The soft darkness was replaced by the light of a single candle. Daramus loomed over him. He found himself sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his knee painfully throbbing and Legolas still locked securely in his arms.

"Let go, my friend." Daramus soft command seemed fair enough. Aragorn found it difficult to follow, though. His arms had made up their mind not to let go, at no cost, and it took him a few moments to convince them otherwise. Gently, he lowered the elf to the ground and wearily glanced about.

He could see little in the gloom, but he could hear water rushing not far away. Obviously satisfied that the ranger would not strangle Legolas in his urge to protect him, Daramus went about to light more candles. Slowly, a modestly furnished chamber came into view, holding nothing more but the most basic things one would need. Still, Aragorn had hardly seen a more welcoming home.

"You are tired, young ranger." Daramus appeared in Aragorn´s vision again. He had shed his brown coat and only now Aragorn saw that he was wearing light robes beneath. The air in the room suddenly felt much warmer than before, and to his surprise he felt his knee cool and almost free of pain again. Wondering absently whether he had fallen asleep for a while, the ranger forced his slightly muddled mind back into the waking world. He had a patient to take care of before he could give in to rest.

As if sensing what the young man had thought, Daramus indicated a narrow staircase in one corner of the room. "I have a spare chamber upstairs that you could use. Of course, you may rest down here for tonight..." "No, thank you", Aragorn cut in with a sudden burst of energy whose origin he could not clearly understand, "I´ll be fine." He knew that his last comment was stretching the truth more than a bit, but he felt almost desperate for a place where he could tend to Legolas and rest. Despite what had happened, his weariness of Daramus had not completely disappeared and he knew he would feel much better on his own.

With some effort, Aragorn made his tired limbs obey and picked the elf up again, noting his unnatural heat with dismay. Very carefully, he climbed the stairs behind the old man and found himself in a simple room. The two beds looked most inviting, though, and the ranger gently lowered his burden onto one of them. He went about checking the elf´s wounds again, gladly surprised that none had started bleeding again. It was all but a miracle after all the carrying, running and jostling.

The bite-wound still looked inflamed, though, and Aragorn asked Daramus for some hot water. He painstakingly cleaned each tooth mark, having to stop from sheer fatigue again and again when his vision blurred and his hands trembled. He decided to use his last athelas as he had earlier that day. How he wished to have more of the healing herb, but he could do nothing about its lack now. Hopefully, he would soon be able to refill his supply.

Finally, he finished his ministrations by carefully trickling some water down the elf´s throat and placing a cool cloth onto his forehead.

It was only then that Legolas stirred again. He opened his eyes and glanced at the ceiling with glazed eyes. "Legolas?" Aragorn asked silently, and he was rewarded with a reply, albeit a dark one. "Duath teli, Estel" //Darkness comes, Estel.// the elf whispered, "duath nev." //darkness [is] here.// "Ette, mellon-nin", //Outside, my friend.// Aragorn tried to reassure his friend, "dinen hi, dinen."//Quiet now, quiet.// His thought to detect a slight shake of the elf´s head before his eyes closed again.

Aragorn sighed at the sight, worry still lacing though him, but there was no denying his own exhaustion any longer. His senses fixed on the elf, willing his instincts to wake him should his friend need him, Aragorn sank down on the second bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

Allowing himself to descend into a mercifully peaceful darkness, the last thing his ears picked up was a faint howling, mixed with laughter, which drifted close from across the distance. But then again, it may have been nothing but the wind slipping past the old mill´s wooden skin.

TBC