Hi again!!
Chapter 8 for you...
Enjoy and review, please!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine...
Fight the Darkness
Aragorn´s blood boiled in his veins, but for the moment he remained motionless, watching Daramus closely. He could feel Legolas´ breath quicken against his chest as though he sensed who was in the room with them. "Algost, mellon-nin" //Do not fear, my friend// he whispered under his breath, "im tirion le." //I guard you.//
"Ah, what a beautiful language!" Daramus stepped away from the door, the white light moving with him, and settled on Legolas´ abandoned bed, regardless of the stained covers. The black marks of the water stood out starkly around him, but somehow paled in the presence of what had once pretended to be a mere human. "And it is so often used to safeguard what is considered precious or wise."
The ranger´s eyes never left the old man. His muscles were tense, ready to jump into action at the slightest command. The hilt of his knife pressed against his side as if demanding to be used, but he could not allow himself to be rushed. There would be no more than one chance for him, he felt sure of that. Now that Daramus had allowed the veil around his being to fall away, power seemed to ooze out of him, soiling the very air of the room and causing the lightning to seek him out, crashing closer to the window with every strike.
"The elves have always considered themselves keepers of beauty." The old man´s voice was almost dreamy, but steeled hatred glimmered beneath its surface when he lowered his glance as if in respect. "Keepers of knowledge, keepers of power. They were the ones to decide who should rise below them, and who should fall when getting too close." He raised his eyes, dark flashes now unconcealed. "Imagine, little ranger, how deeply their fear of me must have run when they took their language from me, thinking that would stop me. What fools they were. They should have killed me then and there, when they had the chance, all those long years ago. They thought a prison of stone would hold me, the loss of their sacred tongue render me powerless, but they forgot that allies can be found even in the darkest places."
He stopped and shook himself slightly, as if brushing cobwebs from his ancient mind. His look focused on the ranger once more, and the smile that spread across his face stole all warmth from Aragorn´s heart. "And now, after endless ages of searching, it is Lord Elrond´s adopted human who finally sets me free. What irony of ironies!"
Easily reading the feeling that flashed through the ranger at his words, his smile broadened. "Of course you would never aid one so foul as me, would you, son of Arathorn? Too much of an elf is in you to see that their power over our world has long lost its just cause, if there ever was one. I have watched your lineage from afar, little one, and while its pride is high, its resolve is weak and ever will be. Let´s wake your friend and see what he has to say about this, shall we?"
With a flick of his wrist in Legolas´ direction, the elf´s eyes shot open and he gasped as the pain, dulled by sleep until a heartbeat ago, hit him without mercy. Aragorn tightened his grip around his friend in an attempt to reassure him by his presence, but he carefully kept his features under control as he stared back at Daramus, saying nothing. His fury burned, threatening to pour out of him, when the elf began to writhe in agony, but he used all self-control he could muster not to give in. He knew that his chance had not yet come, and he had to remain alert to it or else it would pass him by and they would both be lost.
"He seems not so very eager to contribute to our little conversation, does he?" Daramus raised an eyebrow at Aragorn. "It just may be that the black water is a trifle painful to him. It will not kill him, you see." He paused for the ranger´s reaction but seemed undisturbed when there was none visible. "It will just drive him insane."
He was silent for a moment and watched Aragorn struggle to keep Legolas from hurting himself further in his throws of agony. The ranger felt the cold gaze on him and wondered how much longer he would be able to take this. His every instinct screamed at him to finally act, do something, anything to end this. He could see pain and confusion mingle in Legolas´ eyes as he shifted him, trying to keep him down, and the thought of his friend´s sanity leaving as he looked on made his heart race. His eyes locked with Legolas´, and relief washed over his soul when suddenly he saw a flash of fierce stubbornness shining back at him. Daramus was wrong to underestimate the length this elf would go when his mind was set on something. So many others had made that same mistake.
"What a pity to see suffering that is so pointless, that could so easily be ended." Daramus´ voice was pure silk scraping his ears and mind." All I´m asking is some help. Your elven upbringing has equipped you with everything you need, and it will only take a minute. Once you have translated this short text, your friend may rest some more and you will both live to see another morning."
Aragorn tore his gaze away from Legolas and saw Daramus holding up a piece of parchment. His piece of parchment, he realized, the one he had carried in his extra pouch. Elegant elven runes ran across it, their red color slightly faded, and a memory tucked at the ranger´s mind. Lord Elrond, deeply frowning...He had read this before, discussed it before...
"Estel!" Legolas painful gasp tore his heart, and Daramus chuckled. "Seems he gives you his assent, young friend, and who would blame him."
Legolas eyes held anything but despair. "Meatho ...duath" //Fight the darkness// he ground out between gasps and indicated Daramus with a sideways glance. "Ho ...gosta nin...togo nev..."//He fears me. Bring [him] here.// Aragorn´s high- strung nerves sang in joy as a silent agreement passed between them.
"Do it now!" the old man cut in, sudden impatience in his booming voice, "the time for games is over, little human!"
A jolt ran through Aragorn. He could acutely feel his knife´s hilt, his muscles already preparing a grip that would have lightning to beat. Not yet, though, not yet. Legolas moaned loudly and strained against the ranger´s hold. "Bring it closer" Aragorn spit a Daramus, putting as much defiance in his voice as he dared, "I won´t let go of him!"
The old man snarled, annoyed, but his own needs drove him to abandon a so far wisely followed precaution. He moved a few steps over to the ranger, who looked up and squinted at the parchment, trying to take in as much as he could while moving his lips as if slowly making sense of it all. His grip on Legolas slackened when he felt his friend draw in a breath. Then, with a speed that only elven reflexes could muster, a pale white hand shot out and tightly grabbed Daramus´ wrist.
A howl of undisguised pain drowned the screeching wind outside. Aragorn jumped up, his knife a mere flash in the flickering light, and drove the blade into the old man´s exposed chest. It went in to the hilt. The scream rose beyond human sound. Aragorn felt himself flung to the side and hit the wall hard, a black veil falling over his vision at the impact. Dimly, he could see Daramus clawing at Legolas who had brought his other hand up to the man´s face. Steam seemed to rise from Daramus form, then he hauled the wounded elf to his feet, raw rage pouring from his throat, and threw him into the window. Glass shattered and the storm entered the room in a rush. The candles flickered and died, leaving Daramus a false figure of light, bathed in white as he fought with the elf.
Aragorn drew himself to his feet even though the wind pushed at him and took his breath away. Now behind the old man, he could make out a bright stone in a leather hold that sent out the stream of light. On an impulse, Aragorn tore the stone lose before he threw his weight against the other man. Both overbalanced to the side, falling to the floor in a struggling heap. The ranger caught a brief sight of Legolas who sank to the floor beside the broken window, blood trailing the slide of his back against the wall.
Then Aragorn´s vision was filled with eyes that wrapped his mind in pure ice. "Stupid human, thought a mere knife-blow could hinder me!" The ice spread down towards the heart. Fighting a panic that threatened to take all reason away, Aragorn groped for something to use as a weapon. His hand found the small pot he had cooked the healing potion in, and he brought it up and then down against Daramus´ temple with all force he could his quickly failing muscles order to inflict. Daramus wavered slightly, his eyes unfocused for the fraction of a heartbeat. Seizing an opportunity that might well be his last, Aragorn grabbed the knife still embedded in the old man´s chest and drew it out, giving it a twist on the way.
At once, the ice fell away from him while another unearthly howl made the room shudder. The ranger pushed himself up and brought the knife down once, then a second time. Daramus´ pain and rage mingled in his screams. Before a third blow could be dealt, Aragorn suddenly felt his skin prickle, and with blind trust in his instincts he threw himself to the side no more than a breath before lightning struck the very spot he had been standing in. Sparks flew and danced over the wooden floor and the bed covers, leaving a trail of small flames that quickly grew. Thunder growled.
Aragorn stood shakily, panting, and saw in dismay that Daramus did the same across the room. "Now, now, this is a most interesting exchange." There was true mirth laced into the malice of the words. "You are an amazing little creature, I shall enjoy seeing what the black waters might do to you..." He drew something from his robes that looked like a small phial. "Baw!" * The elven voice was not strong, but it easily cut though the storm´s screeches. Daramus turned his head in annoyance, only to let out a shout of his own. Turning from Aragorn, he threw himself over the bed were the flames were greedily eating away at the parchment that Legolas had put into their steady path.
The ranger needed not second bidding. While Daramus beat at the flames, he raced to Legolas´ side and dragged the staggering elf out of the room with him. He could feel Legolas shiver as waves of pain raced through him, and the arm he had draped across his friend´s back was quickly slick with blood.
By some sort of miracle they made it down the steep stairs without falling. Aragorn headed straight for the door, sure that the old man would not be far behind. "Duath..." //Darkness// Legolas breathed into his ear over a roar of rushing water that could be heard, gripping his friend´s shoulder tightly in an effort to get his attention. "Iston, iston, gerin galad!" //I know, I know, I have light!// Aragorn didn´t slow his steps, praying that the light he had would indeed be enough to protect them from the evil that lingered outside. He only knew with absolute certainty that tonight there was no winning against the evil that awaited them within the mill.
He pushed the door open and pulled Legolas out into the whipping rain. The darkness around them seemed to tense hungrily at their appearance. Hidden behind the curtain of drifting water, shadows moved, closing in on their prey as the mill´s door slammed shut with a crash that echoed through the night.
TBC
Chapter 8 for you...
Enjoy and review, please!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine...
Fight the Darkness
Aragorn´s blood boiled in his veins, but for the moment he remained motionless, watching Daramus closely. He could feel Legolas´ breath quicken against his chest as though he sensed who was in the room with them. "Algost, mellon-nin" //Do not fear, my friend// he whispered under his breath, "im tirion le." //I guard you.//
"Ah, what a beautiful language!" Daramus stepped away from the door, the white light moving with him, and settled on Legolas´ abandoned bed, regardless of the stained covers. The black marks of the water stood out starkly around him, but somehow paled in the presence of what had once pretended to be a mere human. "And it is so often used to safeguard what is considered precious or wise."
The ranger´s eyes never left the old man. His muscles were tense, ready to jump into action at the slightest command. The hilt of his knife pressed against his side as if demanding to be used, but he could not allow himself to be rushed. There would be no more than one chance for him, he felt sure of that. Now that Daramus had allowed the veil around his being to fall away, power seemed to ooze out of him, soiling the very air of the room and causing the lightning to seek him out, crashing closer to the window with every strike.
"The elves have always considered themselves keepers of beauty." The old man´s voice was almost dreamy, but steeled hatred glimmered beneath its surface when he lowered his glance as if in respect. "Keepers of knowledge, keepers of power. They were the ones to decide who should rise below them, and who should fall when getting too close." He raised his eyes, dark flashes now unconcealed. "Imagine, little ranger, how deeply their fear of me must have run when they took their language from me, thinking that would stop me. What fools they were. They should have killed me then and there, when they had the chance, all those long years ago. They thought a prison of stone would hold me, the loss of their sacred tongue render me powerless, but they forgot that allies can be found even in the darkest places."
He stopped and shook himself slightly, as if brushing cobwebs from his ancient mind. His look focused on the ranger once more, and the smile that spread across his face stole all warmth from Aragorn´s heart. "And now, after endless ages of searching, it is Lord Elrond´s adopted human who finally sets me free. What irony of ironies!"
Easily reading the feeling that flashed through the ranger at his words, his smile broadened. "Of course you would never aid one so foul as me, would you, son of Arathorn? Too much of an elf is in you to see that their power over our world has long lost its just cause, if there ever was one. I have watched your lineage from afar, little one, and while its pride is high, its resolve is weak and ever will be. Let´s wake your friend and see what he has to say about this, shall we?"
With a flick of his wrist in Legolas´ direction, the elf´s eyes shot open and he gasped as the pain, dulled by sleep until a heartbeat ago, hit him without mercy. Aragorn tightened his grip around his friend in an attempt to reassure him by his presence, but he carefully kept his features under control as he stared back at Daramus, saying nothing. His fury burned, threatening to pour out of him, when the elf began to writhe in agony, but he used all self-control he could muster not to give in. He knew that his chance had not yet come, and he had to remain alert to it or else it would pass him by and they would both be lost.
"He seems not so very eager to contribute to our little conversation, does he?" Daramus raised an eyebrow at Aragorn. "It just may be that the black water is a trifle painful to him. It will not kill him, you see." He paused for the ranger´s reaction but seemed undisturbed when there was none visible. "It will just drive him insane."
He was silent for a moment and watched Aragorn struggle to keep Legolas from hurting himself further in his throws of agony. The ranger felt the cold gaze on him and wondered how much longer he would be able to take this. His every instinct screamed at him to finally act, do something, anything to end this. He could see pain and confusion mingle in Legolas´ eyes as he shifted him, trying to keep him down, and the thought of his friend´s sanity leaving as he looked on made his heart race. His eyes locked with Legolas´, and relief washed over his soul when suddenly he saw a flash of fierce stubbornness shining back at him. Daramus was wrong to underestimate the length this elf would go when his mind was set on something. So many others had made that same mistake.
"What a pity to see suffering that is so pointless, that could so easily be ended." Daramus´ voice was pure silk scraping his ears and mind." All I´m asking is some help. Your elven upbringing has equipped you with everything you need, and it will only take a minute. Once you have translated this short text, your friend may rest some more and you will both live to see another morning."
Aragorn tore his gaze away from Legolas and saw Daramus holding up a piece of parchment. His piece of parchment, he realized, the one he had carried in his extra pouch. Elegant elven runes ran across it, their red color slightly faded, and a memory tucked at the ranger´s mind. Lord Elrond, deeply frowning...He had read this before, discussed it before...
"Estel!" Legolas painful gasp tore his heart, and Daramus chuckled. "Seems he gives you his assent, young friend, and who would blame him."
Legolas eyes held anything but despair. "Meatho ...duath" //Fight the darkness// he ground out between gasps and indicated Daramus with a sideways glance. "Ho ...gosta nin...togo nev..."//He fears me. Bring [him] here.// Aragorn´s high- strung nerves sang in joy as a silent agreement passed between them.
"Do it now!" the old man cut in, sudden impatience in his booming voice, "the time for games is over, little human!"
A jolt ran through Aragorn. He could acutely feel his knife´s hilt, his muscles already preparing a grip that would have lightning to beat. Not yet, though, not yet. Legolas moaned loudly and strained against the ranger´s hold. "Bring it closer" Aragorn spit a Daramus, putting as much defiance in his voice as he dared, "I won´t let go of him!"
The old man snarled, annoyed, but his own needs drove him to abandon a so far wisely followed precaution. He moved a few steps over to the ranger, who looked up and squinted at the parchment, trying to take in as much as he could while moving his lips as if slowly making sense of it all. His grip on Legolas slackened when he felt his friend draw in a breath. Then, with a speed that only elven reflexes could muster, a pale white hand shot out and tightly grabbed Daramus´ wrist.
A howl of undisguised pain drowned the screeching wind outside. Aragorn jumped up, his knife a mere flash in the flickering light, and drove the blade into the old man´s exposed chest. It went in to the hilt. The scream rose beyond human sound. Aragorn felt himself flung to the side and hit the wall hard, a black veil falling over his vision at the impact. Dimly, he could see Daramus clawing at Legolas who had brought his other hand up to the man´s face. Steam seemed to rise from Daramus form, then he hauled the wounded elf to his feet, raw rage pouring from his throat, and threw him into the window. Glass shattered and the storm entered the room in a rush. The candles flickered and died, leaving Daramus a false figure of light, bathed in white as he fought with the elf.
Aragorn drew himself to his feet even though the wind pushed at him and took his breath away. Now behind the old man, he could make out a bright stone in a leather hold that sent out the stream of light. On an impulse, Aragorn tore the stone lose before he threw his weight against the other man. Both overbalanced to the side, falling to the floor in a struggling heap. The ranger caught a brief sight of Legolas who sank to the floor beside the broken window, blood trailing the slide of his back against the wall.
Then Aragorn´s vision was filled with eyes that wrapped his mind in pure ice. "Stupid human, thought a mere knife-blow could hinder me!" The ice spread down towards the heart. Fighting a panic that threatened to take all reason away, Aragorn groped for something to use as a weapon. His hand found the small pot he had cooked the healing potion in, and he brought it up and then down against Daramus´ temple with all force he could his quickly failing muscles order to inflict. Daramus wavered slightly, his eyes unfocused for the fraction of a heartbeat. Seizing an opportunity that might well be his last, Aragorn grabbed the knife still embedded in the old man´s chest and drew it out, giving it a twist on the way.
At once, the ice fell away from him while another unearthly howl made the room shudder. The ranger pushed himself up and brought the knife down once, then a second time. Daramus´ pain and rage mingled in his screams. Before a third blow could be dealt, Aragorn suddenly felt his skin prickle, and with blind trust in his instincts he threw himself to the side no more than a breath before lightning struck the very spot he had been standing in. Sparks flew and danced over the wooden floor and the bed covers, leaving a trail of small flames that quickly grew. Thunder growled.
Aragorn stood shakily, panting, and saw in dismay that Daramus did the same across the room. "Now, now, this is a most interesting exchange." There was true mirth laced into the malice of the words. "You are an amazing little creature, I shall enjoy seeing what the black waters might do to you..." He drew something from his robes that looked like a small phial. "Baw!" * The elven voice was not strong, but it easily cut though the storm´s screeches. Daramus turned his head in annoyance, only to let out a shout of his own. Turning from Aragorn, he threw himself over the bed were the flames were greedily eating away at the parchment that Legolas had put into their steady path.
The ranger needed not second bidding. While Daramus beat at the flames, he raced to Legolas´ side and dragged the staggering elf out of the room with him. He could feel Legolas shiver as waves of pain raced through him, and the arm he had draped across his friend´s back was quickly slick with blood.
By some sort of miracle they made it down the steep stairs without falling. Aragorn headed straight for the door, sure that the old man would not be far behind. "Duath..." //Darkness// Legolas breathed into his ear over a roar of rushing water that could be heard, gripping his friend´s shoulder tightly in an effort to get his attention. "Iston, iston, gerin galad!" //I know, I know, I have light!// Aragorn didn´t slow his steps, praying that the light he had would indeed be enough to protect them from the evil that lingered outside. He only knew with absolute certainty that tonight there was no winning against the evil that awaited them within the mill.
He pushed the door open and pulled Legolas out into the whipping rain. The darkness around them seemed to tense hungrily at their appearance. Hidden behind the curtain of drifting water, shadows moved, closing in on their prey as the mill´s door slammed shut with a crash that echoed through the night.
TBC
