Hello everybody!
Sorry that this took some days, sometimes work can really get into your way :)
Here´s the next chapter...Aragorn is still deep in his memories and he will not find anything pleasant there.
PLEASE let me know what you think, it is so rewarding to read your opinions.
Review responses:
Erita: Leave you there?? No way, wouldn´t do that! Don´t fear, I will finish the story, some chapters just take longer than others .. glad you like it!
Gozilla: Thanks! Please keep reviewing!
Red Tigress: Thanks so much! My ROTK count... an embarrassing "3", but that will change now - don´t have to wait till May :). Still looking forward to the DVD release, though, especially the EED - don´t get me started...
Aragornwriter: Thank you - I really appreciate your opinion!
Thanks to all of you and to my beta Morwen.
Now, on to the next chapter. Enjoy!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine at all...
Darkness relived
With the darkness of night a slight rain set in, coating the four riders in a shining cold layer. Aragorn suppressed a shiver, well aware that his elven companions hardly felt the change, let alone allow themselves to be bothered by it. Thankfully, the wolves they had heard earlier seemed to dislike the drizzle, too, for their mournful cries had not been heard in a while.
Still, the ranger could not shake the growing unrest that was tugging at his mind, pushing his exhaustion away. Something was badly amiss, urging him into action, but the elves seemed oblivious to the fact. He had trusted their senses many times with his life and now tried to persuade his screaming instincts of the fact, but they were not inclined to obey his command. He had to concentrate on finding shelter, overrule his failing senses, occupy them.
Beside him, Legolas shifted on his horse. Aragorn shot him a quick look from the corner of his eye. He made a mental note to make sure his friend´s injury was not worse than he let on. It would not do for one of them to weaken unexpectedly. He could feel danger surrounding them, closing in like a wild animal silently approaching its kill.
The thought made him shiver again, and he noticed the way Legolas turned his head ever so lightly at the movement. He felt a tiny smile on his lips when he realized how they were watching each other when the task really called for finding shelter. Their past experiences together had caused them to develop habits that were hard, if not impossible to break.
Aragorn turned his eyes back into the night. His eyes fell on his foster father´s back as he was riding in front of him. Without even registering it, he urged his horse forward until its nose almost touched Elrond´s leg. The elf turned, his eyes glinting despite the gloom.
"Ion-nin?" //My son?// He raised his eyebrows in question and, so it seemed to the ranger, worry. "Are you well?" "Yes, adar, I´m fine." The answer did not seem to satisfy the elf lord. Watching the human closely, he pulled the reins and brought his horse alongside his son´s. A rush of gratitude washed over Aragorn when he felt some of his restlessness fall away. He smiled at Elrond. "Hannon le." //Thank you.// His father inclined his head in response, but his frown deepened.
"Ennas." //[Over] there.// Elladan had obviously used his undivided attention in his search and pointed to a small cove of trees that nestled into a rough half-circle in front of a group of rocks. It would offer protection from both the weather and possible attack. Though it was not the best of places, there was a silent agreement that this would do. They all steered their mounts after Elladan´s without complaint.
It took them only a short time to set up a camp. Aragorn briefly debated the need of a fire, for it would make them easier to locate, but the Elves would have none of it. "The rocks will keep in most of the light", Legolas pointed out, "and besides, you are cold." Before Aragorn´s response to that could cause a lengthy battle of words, Elrond intervened elegantly. "We are all in need of some comfort and, I fear, hot water to clean our wounds and brew some medicine. I would not have any of us suffer any more damage due to neglect." He shot Legolas a meaningful look, and the younger elf bowed his head in acceptance.
There was no shortage of healing supplies, and thankfully none of the injuries seemed bad enough to cause true worry - including, to Aragorn´s relief, the cut on Legolas´ thigh that had made him uncomfortable earlier. When everybody had been tended, the five of them sat around the fire silently, weary but unwilling to succumb to rest just yet. There were too many questions, too many thoughts that busied their minds.
"Adar, what could be behind this?" //father// Elrohir´s question ended their quiet brooding. The elf lord sighed. "I am not sure, ion-nin, but I fear that the threat I had hoped to be dormant still has been awakened." //my son// He reached for a leather pouch he had carried on his belt and opened it, carefully placing its contents in front of him. The scroll he left rolled and tied, looking far less dangerous than they knew it to be, while the silver coins shone eerily in the flickering light, their engravings dancing with the movements of the flames.
Aragorn scooted closer and eyed the strange collection curiously. He knew that his foster father had spent long hours in his study searching for the meaning behind the text of the scroll. The coins had provided an even greater challenge, and to all of their frustration even the mighty lord´s wisdom had not been enough to fully unravel the mystery.
It was Elladan who reached out and thoughtfully took a coin unto his palm. "We do know that these letter are very old", he said. "They are a elvish, but form words not known to us. The material, however, is mithril and must have been provided by the dwarfs, or so it seems likely." Elrohir nodded to his twin and pointed to the scroll, clearly unwilling to touch it. "And the scroll contains a text also from times long past, but by far not reaching the age of the coins. It calls upon a dark creature of old, a spirit that should long be resting never to be revealed again."
Elrond sighed with uncharacteristic impatience. "I had hoped that our journey would provide answers that my study does not hold." He paused. "To that hope I still hold, but the attack tonight has added an urgency to our mission that I had not forseen, though the scent of danger clung to the very box these items were given to me in."
Aragorn clearly remembered the elderly man who had come to Imlardis little more than two weeks ago. He had spoken of a son who had found the scroll and coins while "scouting" in the hills - most likely digging for old graves there that could be robbed. He had come home unwilling to sell his booty and eager to set out on a journey to the foot of the Misty Mountains, but his comrades had been unwilling to let him go, thinking him to betray them. The ensuing fight had left the man´s son dead, and he had decided to hand the obviously dangerous sorcery of the items to the elves before his other sons would fall prey to it, too.
Lord Elrond spoke again, his voice distant. "Someone is calling out to the bearer of these relics of old. The call was too strong for these men to resist, and even I could feel it from the onset of my studies. Whoever is sending the call must have power and skill, that in itself is troublesome. But now these attackers - mostly untrained..." He trailed off, shaking his head lightly.
"Maybe there is someone who is aware of the call and wants to keep these items from being delivered, " Legolas suggested. "He may have had to find fighters for his cause too quickly to come up with trained ones, and took those who were eager for the payment." "Aye, maybe" Elrond agreed, albeit doubtfully. Elladan shook his head. "I rather believe that the one calling does not like the idea of a mighty elf-lord accompanying his treasure. You may be a danger to whatever plans are behind this."
Silence settled over the camp again, and Aragorn found his thoughts drifting. He had never even contemplated himself swaying at the brink of sleep when he felt Elrohir´s steadying hand on his arm , barely keeping him from toppling over. "I believe some of us should be tucked in for the night." He grinned at his human brother´s scowl which turned into a yawn before it was anywhere close to piercing. "And not just one", Elrond added with a warning undertone to keep the young ones from bantering. "We will all need our strength again soon enough, that I am sure of."
The night passed without incident, followed by a grey day which melted into another night under a cloudy sky. The tension had been mounting as the call they all felt grew stronger, pulling them ever closer to the massive bulk of the mountains. Throughout the day, Aragorn had found himself riding closely to Lord Elrond many times, even when he had deliberately pulled away a short time before. His own behaviour began to worry him. Was he so afraid of the ever growing danger around them? He shook his head to himself in defiance.
Their resting place for this night was less protected than the last, the rocky plains holding few trees. Aragorn found it hard to sleep, and when Elladan woke him for his watch he had hardly closed his eyes at all, careful though to remain lying with his back to his brother not to alert him.
He settled down and watched the four elves sleep, a little envious of their ability to do so. His eyes sought out his father, who lay but a few feet from him, open eyes turned to the dark sky. The pouch was at his side. Aragorn stared at it. They had discussed its contents again today, but their arguments were turning circles, not bringing them any closer to the truth. The ranger silently reached out and pulled the pouch to him, glad Elrond did not stir at the movement. They had to overlook something, he thought. There had to be something there that betrayed the solution to this riddle. Aragorn weighted the pouch in his hand, feeling the coins shift as he did so.
"What do you feel?" The quiet voice made the ranger jump. He looked up to see his foster father´s head turned, eyes fixed on him. Elrond sat up slowly, careful not to wake the others. "I have noticed how much worse the pull effect you, ion-nin." The elf´s fair face showed doubt a swell as compassion. "The wisdom of taking you with me seems clouded now. I do not wish to expose you to danger."
Aragorn felt a surge of anger at these word. "I am well accustomed to danger", he growled darkly, "there is no need to shield me, father." Feeling the steady look not leave his face, he sighed. His had directed his anger wrongly, he knew, and was thankful for Elrond´s patience. "What do you feel?" the elf asked again, gently. "Restlessness." Aragorn hung his head a his weakness. "I can feel danger all around us. It is so close it almost takes my breath away, but then there is nothing to be seen or fought. It must be my human blood. Why else would I fear where you remain calm?" He winced at the frustration in his voice, but could not help it.
He was surprised at the warm chuckle from his father. "Oh Aragorn, you could not be more wrong. None of us is calm, you are just too occupied with yourself to truly notice. You hold your own better than you realize, and I trust you completely. It is not weakness that makes you feel the pull more strongly. I believe it is fashioned to draw humans, not elves."
The ranger looked up sharply. That thought had never crossed his mind, but it made perfect sense. "Do not hide your fears and restlessness from us." Elrond´s voice was stern now, although warmth still glowed through it. "Do not consider them a fault..." The elf trailed off, suddenly tense. Aragorn felt it, too, a blinding sensation like a wall crashing down on his senses, making them scream. The night was silent.
Elrond rose in one graceful motion, his blanket falling away from him. The younger elves stirred and turned, awoken as much by the movement as by the heaviness that now filled the air. The horses shifted, stamping their hooves and shaking their heads. A howl echoed through the scattered rocks, uttered by no living beast. The clouds ripped open above their heads, setting free the moon and bathing the barren landscape in cold light.
What it revealed made Aragorn gasp. There was a ring of fog closing in on them. It swirled and shifted as it moved. A growling could be heard, and he thought he could see shapes moving in the mist. The movement slowed visibly, the grey mass rippling and gathering, then it launched at them.
Aragorn felt himself thrown to the ground, his vision drowned in a mass of heavy grey. He rolled and groped for his sword, but all his hands found was his knife - and the pouch. He jumped to his feet, completely disoriented. He could hear the shouts of the elves around him, engaged in a fierce fight with opponents that he could neither see nor even feel. The horses screamed in panic.
"Estel, ego, ego!!" //Estel, away, away!// Pain laced Legolas voice. Aragorn felt something huge brush past him, almost pushing him over. A musty smell filled the air. Legolas´ had seemed so close. He ignored his friend´s command and stumbled after the sound. A scream filled the air, ending in a sickening gurgle. "Gwatelo, gwatelo!" //Get together, get together!// Elrond´s mighty call cut through the swirling mist like a knife, momentarily clearing Aragorn´s head. He was almost sure the call had come from his left, but that was opposite to where he suspected Legolas. After only a heartbeat´s hesitation, he went for his friend.
"Adar, im nev." //Father, I´m here.// Elladan, almost drowned out by the grey wall. "Elrohir, baw! Aphado anim." //Elrohir, no! Follow me.// A scream followed. Aragorn froze. Where to turn. He could dimly make out an enraged battle-cry that sounded like Elladan, and his heart sank. Where to turn.
He stumbled and fell to his knees. His hands landed on something soft and slid off. His face made contact with a stinking mass that quickly drew back from him with a growl. Red eyes met his and vanished in a flash. Stunned, the ranger sat where he had fallen. There was blood on his hands. Not his blood. He did not hurt.
Blinking, he looked down on Legolas. He wondered why his friend didn´t move. He could not tell. His vision was blurry. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Another scream beside him, or maybe at to his side.
The sensation came suddenly. Aragorn could see himself from above, kneeling next to Legolas´ motionless form. Dark shapes circled him, never getting close. Only a few feet away, he could make out a fallen body, two others standing over it protectively, engaged in a fight with something he could not give a name to.
His family. He realized with a sickening turn of the stomach that they were fighting for their lives with him sitting on the ground like a scared child. He mentally screamed at himself to move, but he would not. Not even to staunch the blood that flowed from Legolas´ shoulder. Not even to lift the knife clutched in his hand.
He felt himself floating higher into the air and angrily tried with all his might to throw himself down again. He had to make his body heed his commands, he had to move, to fight, to save those he loved.
He could even hear Legolas call out to him, his voice almost frantic, words incomprehensible.
"Algost, mellon-nin, im teli!" //Don´t fear, my friend, I´m coming.// He ground the words out of his very soul as his voice failed to obey him. He could feel himself edging closer to his still form in the mist. Just a bit closer...
"Estel, baw! Cin men rhoeg!" //Estel, no! Your road [is] wrong!//
He had to be close, for suddenly Legolas´ voice was crystal clear in his mind. And he could only agree with his friend, shame washing over him. "Aye, he im meatha!" //Yes, now I [will] fight!// he promised fiercely. He drew together all of the strength left in him, inching closer to his body. And closer. Almost there.
TBC
Sorry that this took some days, sometimes work can really get into your way :)
Here´s the next chapter...Aragorn is still deep in his memories and he will not find anything pleasant there.
PLEASE let me know what you think, it is so rewarding to read your opinions.
Review responses:
Erita: Leave you there?? No way, wouldn´t do that! Don´t fear, I will finish the story, some chapters just take longer than others .. glad you like it!
Gozilla: Thanks! Please keep reviewing!
Red Tigress: Thanks so much! My ROTK count... an embarrassing "3", but that will change now - don´t have to wait till May :). Still looking forward to the DVD release, though, especially the EED - don´t get me started...
Aragornwriter: Thank you - I really appreciate your opinion!
Thanks to all of you and to my beta Morwen.
Now, on to the next chapter. Enjoy!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine at all...
Darkness relived
With the darkness of night a slight rain set in, coating the four riders in a shining cold layer. Aragorn suppressed a shiver, well aware that his elven companions hardly felt the change, let alone allow themselves to be bothered by it. Thankfully, the wolves they had heard earlier seemed to dislike the drizzle, too, for their mournful cries had not been heard in a while.
Still, the ranger could not shake the growing unrest that was tugging at his mind, pushing his exhaustion away. Something was badly amiss, urging him into action, but the elves seemed oblivious to the fact. He had trusted their senses many times with his life and now tried to persuade his screaming instincts of the fact, but they were not inclined to obey his command. He had to concentrate on finding shelter, overrule his failing senses, occupy them.
Beside him, Legolas shifted on his horse. Aragorn shot him a quick look from the corner of his eye. He made a mental note to make sure his friend´s injury was not worse than he let on. It would not do for one of them to weaken unexpectedly. He could feel danger surrounding them, closing in like a wild animal silently approaching its kill.
The thought made him shiver again, and he noticed the way Legolas turned his head ever so lightly at the movement. He felt a tiny smile on his lips when he realized how they were watching each other when the task really called for finding shelter. Their past experiences together had caused them to develop habits that were hard, if not impossible to break.
Aragorn turned his eyes back into the night. His eyes fell on his foster father´s back as he was riding in front of him. Without even registering it, he urged his horse forward until its nose almost touched Elrond´s leg. The elf turned, his eyes glinting despite the gloom.
"Ion-nin?" //My son?// He raised his eyebrows in question and, so it seemed to the ranger, worry. "Are you well?" "Yes, adar, I´m fine." The answer did not seem to satisfy the elf lord. Watching the human closely, he pulled the reins and brought his horse alongside his son´s. A rush of gratitude washed over Aragorn when he felt some of his restlessness fall away. He smiled at Elrond. "Hannon le." //Thank you.// His father inclined his head in response, but his frown deepened.
"Ennas." //[Over] there.// Elladan had obviously used his undivided attention in his search and pointed to a small cove of trees that nestled into a rough half-circle in front of a group of rocks. It would offer protection from both the weather and possible attack. Though it was not the best of places, there was a silent agreement that this would do. They all steered their mounts after Elladan´s without complaint.
It took them only a short time to set up a camp. Aragorn briefly debated the need of a fire, for it would make them easier to locate, but the Elves would have none of it. "The rocks will keep in most of the light", Legolas pointed out, "and besides, you are cold." Before Aragorn´s response to that could cause a lengthy battle of words, Elrond intervened elegantly. "We are all in need of some comfort and, I fear, hot water to clean our wounds and brew some medicine. I would not have any of us suffer any more damage due to neglect." He shot Legolas a meaningful look, and the younger elf bowed his head in acceptance.
There was no shortage of healing supplies, and thankfully none of the injuries seemed bad enough to cause true worry - including, to Aragorn´s relief, the cut on Legolas´ thigh that had made him uncomfortable earlier. When everybody had been tended, the five of them sat around the fire silently, weary but unwilling to succumb to rest just yet. There were too many questions, too many thoughts that busied their minds.
"Adar, what could be behind this?" //father// Elrohir´s question ended their quiet brooding. The elf lord sighed. "I am not sure, ion-nin, but I fear that the threat I had hoped to be dormant still has been awakened." //my son// He reached for a leather pouch he had carried on his belt and opened it, carefully placing its contents in front of him. The scroll he left rolled and tied, looking far less dangerous than they knew it to be, while the silver coins shone eerily in the flickering light, their engravings dancing with the movements of the flames.
Aragorn scooted closer and eyed the strange collection curiously. He knew that his foster father had spent long hours in his study searching for the meaning behind the text of the scroll. The coins had provided an even greater challenge, and to all of their frustration even the mighty lord´s wisdom had not been enough to fully unravel the mystery.
It was Elladan who reached out and thoughtfully took a coin unto his palm. "We do know that these letter are very old", he said. "They are a elvish, but form words not known to us. The material, however, is mithril and must have been provided by the dwarfs, or so it seems likely." Elrohir nodded to his twin and pointed to the scroll, clearly unwilling to touch it. "And the scroll contains a text also from times long past, but by far not reaching the age of the coins. It calls upon a dark creature of old, a spirit that should long be resting never to be revealed again."
Elrond sighed with uncharacteristic impatience. "I had hoped that our journey would provide answers that my study does not hold." He paused. "To that hope I still hold, but the attack tonight has added an urgency to our mission that I had not forseen, though the scent of danger clung to the very box these items were given to me in."
Aragorn clearly remembered the elderly man who had come to Imlardis little more than two weeks ago. He had spoken of a son who had found the scroll and coins while "scouting" in the hills - most likely digging for old graves there that could be robbed. He had come home unwilling to sell his booty and eager to set out on a journey to the foot of the Misty Mountains, but his comrades had been unwilling to let him go, thinking him to betray them. The ensuing fight had left the man´s son dead, and he had decided to hand the obviously dangerous sorcery of the items to the elves before his other sons would fall prey to it, too.
Lord Elrond spoke again, his voice distant. "Someone is calling out to the bearer of these relics of old. The call was too strong for these men to resist, and even I could feel it from the onset of my studies. Whoever is sending the call must have power and skill, that in itself is troublesome. But now these attackers - mostly untrained..." He trailed off, shaking his head lightly.
"Maybe there is someone who is aware of the call and wants to keep these items from being delivered, " Legolas suggested. "He may have had to find fighters for his cause too quickly to come up with trained ones, and took those who were eager for the payment." "Aye, maybe" Elrond agreed, albeit doubtfully. Elladan shook his head. "I rather believe that the one calling does not like the idea of a mighty elf-lord accompanying his treasure. You may be a danger to whatever plans are behind this."
Silence settled over the camp again, and Aragorn found his thoughts drifting. He had never even contemplated himself swaying at the brink of sleep when he felt Elrohir´s steadying hand on his arm , barely keeping him from toppling over. "I believe some of us should be tucked in for the night." He grinned at his human brother´s scowl which turned into a yawn before it was anywhere close to piercing. "And not just one", Elrond added with a warning undertone to keep the young ones from bantering. "We will all need our strength again soon enough, that I am sure of."
The night passed without incident, followed by a grey day which melted into another night under a cloudy sky. The tension had been mounting as the call they all felt grew stronger, pulling them ever closer to the massive bulk of the mountains. Throughout the day, Aragorn had found himself riding closely to Lord Elrond many times, even when he had deliberately pulled away a short time before. His own behaviour began to worry him. Was he so afraid of the ever growing danger around them? He shook his head to himself in defiance.
Their resting place for this night was less protected than the last, the rocky plains holding few trees. Aragorn found it hard to sleep, and when Elladan woke him for his watch he had hardly closed his eyes at all, careful though to remain lying with his back to his brother not to alert him.
He settled down and watched the four elves sleep, a little envious of their ability to do so. His eyes sought out his father, who lay but a few feet from him, open eyes turned to the dark sky. The pouch was at his side. Aragorn stared at it. They had discussed its contents again today, but their arguments were turning circles, not bringing them any closer to the truth. The ranger silently reached out and pulled the pouch to him, glad Elrond did not stir at the movement. They had to overlook something, he thought. There had to be something there that betrayed the solution to this riddle. Aragorn weighted the pouch in his hand, feeling the coins shift as he did so.
"What do you feel?" The quiet voice made the ranger jump. He looked up to see his foster father´s head turned, eyes fixed on him. Elrond sat up slowly, careful not to wake the others. "I have noticed how much worse the pull effect you, ion-nin." The elf´s fair face showed doubt a swell as compassion. "The wisdom of taking you with me seems clouded now. I do not wish to expose you to danger."
Aragorn felt a surge of anger at these word. "I am well accustomed to danger", he growled darkly, "there is no need to shield me, father." Feeling the steady look not leave his face, he sighed. His had directed his anger wrongly, he knew, and was thankful for Elrond´s patience. "What do you feel?" the elf asked again, gently. "Restlessness." Aragorn hung his head a his weakness. "I can feel danger all around us. It is so close it almost takes my breath away, but then there is nothing to be seen or fought. It must be my human blood. Why else would I fear where you remain calm?" He winced at the frustration in his voice, but could not help it.
He was surprised at the warm chuckle from his father. "Oh Aragorn, you could not be more wrong. None of us is calm, you are just too occupied with yourself to truly notice. You hold your own better than you realize, and I trust you completely. It is not weakness that makes you feel the pull more strongly. I believe it is fashioned to draw humans, not elves."
The ranger looked up sharply. That thought had never crossed his mind, but it made perfect sense. "Do not hide your fears and restlessness from us." Elrond´s voice was stern now, although warmth still glowed through it. "Do not consider them a fault..." The elf trailed off, suddenly tense. Aragorn felt it, too, a blinding sensation like a wall crashing down on his senses, making them scream. The night was silent.
Elrond rose in one graceful motion, his blanket falling away from him. The younger elves stirred and turned, awoken as much by the movement as by the heaviness that now filled the air. The horses shifted, stamping their hooves and shaking their heads. A howl echoed through the scattered rocks, uttered by no living beast. The clouds ripped open above their heads, setting free the moon and bathing the barren landscape in cold light.
What it revealed made Aragorn gasp. There was a ring of fog closing in on them. It swirled and shifted as it moved. A growling could be heard, and he thought he could see shapes moving in the mist. The movement slowed visibly, the grey mass rippling and gathering, then it launched at them.
Aragorn felt himself thrown to the ground, his vision drowned in a mass of heavy grey. He rolled and groped for his sword, but all his hands found was his knife - and the pouch. He jumped to his feet, completely disoriented. He could hear the shouts of the elves around him, engaged in a fierce fight with opponents that he could neither see nor even feel. The horses screamed in panic.
"Estel, ego, ego!!" //Estel, away, away!// Pain laced Legolas voice. Aragorn felt something huge brush past him, almost pushing him over. A musty smell filled the air. Legolas´ had seemed so close. He ignored his friend´s command and stumbled after the sound. A scream filled the air, ending in a sickening gurgle. "Gwatelo, gwatelo!" //Get together, get together!// Elrond´s mighty call cut through the swirling mist like a knife, momentarily clearing Aragorn´s head. He was almost sure the call had come from his left, but that was opposite to where he suspected Legolas. After only a heartbeat´s hesitation, he went for his friend.
"Adar, im nev." //Father, I´m here.// Elladan, almost drowned out by the grey wall. "Elrohir, baw! Aphado anim." //Elrohir, no! Follow me.// A scream followed. Aragorn froze. Where to turn. He could dimly make out an enraged battle-cry that sounded like Elladan, and his heart sank. Where to turn.
He stumbled and fell to his knees. His hands landed on something soft and slid off. His face made contact with a stinking mass that quickly drew back from him with a growl. Red eyes met his and vanished in a flash. Stunned, the ranger sat where he had fallen. There was blood on his hands. Not his blood. He did not hurt.
Blinking, he looked down on Legolas. He wondered why his friend didn´t move. He could not tell. His vision was blurry. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Another scream beside him, or maybe at to his side.
The sensation came suddenly. Aragorn could see himself from above, kneeling next to Legolas´ motionless form. Dark shapes circled him, never getting close. Only a few feet away, he could make out a fallen body, two others standing over it protectively, engaged in a fight with something he could not give a name to.
His family. He realized with a sickening turn of the stomach that they were fighting for their lives with him sitting on the ground like a scared child. He mentally screamed at himself to move, but he would not. Not even to staunch the blood that flowed from Legolas´ shoulder. Not even to lift the knife clutched in his hand.
He felt himself floating higher into the air and angrily tried with all his might to throw himself down again. He had to make his body heed his commands, he had to move, to fight, to save those he loved.
He could even hear Legolas call out to him, his voice almost frantic, words incomprehensible.
"Algost, mellon-nin, im teli!" //Don´t fear, my friend, I´m coming.// He ground the words out of his very soul as his voice failed to obey him. He could feel himself edging closer to his still form in the mist. Just a bit closer...
"Estel, baw! Cin men rhoeg!" //Estel, no! Your road [is] wrong!//
He had to be close, for suddenly Legolas´ voice was crystal clear in his mind. And he could only agree with his friend, shame washing over him. "Aye, he im meatha!" //Yes, now I [will] fight!// he promised fiercely. He drew together all of the strength left in him, inching closer to his body. And closer. Almost there.
TBC
