Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

I must admit that I have never seen it this way, but you're right: It is very sad that Aragorn and Legolas can do virtually _nothing_ without getting themselves into deadly peril. It must be a rather frustrating way of life, really.. *g*

It is also nice to know that you enjoyed the cliffy so much! *ducks rotten fruit, sharp objects and so on* My alter ego says she's very glad to be back too, and that she's planning to stay for a while. That's great, isn't it? *evil grin*

Be that as it may: There are many people who told me to put in some elf and/or ranger angst and pain and to let Legolas get captured soon. Well, I can gladly give you the one, but unfortunately not the other. I mean, there is some elf/ranger angst/pain/whatever in here, not too much of course since we want them able to move around in the near future, but I have to announce that Legolas won't get captured in the next few chapters. I always need some time to prepare everything, besides, it would be boring if it happened too soon, wouldn't it? This way there's more anticipation, more tension and more death threats - you know how much I love them, right? *g*

Another little note for all who asked: Tomorrow is the 23rd and therefore Kaeera's birthday, meaning that I will start posting "Straight Paths", her birthday-twin-story. I should probably tell you right away that there will be NO Aragorn or Legolas, only the twins, Elrond, Glorfindel and a bit of Erestor. Sorry about that, but it was rather nice to write for a change. So, the first chapter will be here tomorrow. Go and read it. *g*


Alright, so here's the next chapter, and no, it's no cliffy, I'm sorry. I don't want to post too many in a row, otherwise we'll have lots of dead readers and we can't have that, can we? *g* Well, in here we have ... Elf angst ... Ranger angst ... Anardir who nearly has a heart attack ... the stupidest injury one can sustain when colliding with a tree ... and Celylith's father! Somehow the poor elf wasn't all that happy about that... *g*

Have fun and review, please!






Chapter 4


At first, Legolas' thoughts were too muddled and confused for him to really understand what was going on, and, truth to be told, he didn't care overly much either.

Right now he was hovering between sleep and waking, and as far as he was concerned that was a rather desirable place to be. It was peaceful and dark here, and there were no worries or fears or anything that demanded his attention.

The elf sighed inwardly. This was really nice, and he would not allow anyone to rip him out of it, by no means whatsoever. Somehow, he didn't really know how, he knew that there would be someone or something that would be trying to make him leave this blessed condition behind; there always was.

But not this time, Legolas resolved firmly, giving a small, mental headshake. This time he would remain strong and would refuse to return to consciousness. If he had learned anything in these past years, it was that it was always better to remain in wonderful unconsciousness than to return to the real world to find out what had put one into such a state in the first place.

A small, but rather insistent part of his mind was not at all satisfied with that reasoning and prodded him to wake up, prodded him that there was someone who needed his help, but Legolas resolutely ignored it. It happened rather often to him lately that parts of his brain disagreed with him, and he was still trying to prove to himself that he was the one in control of his actions. By the Valar, he thought angrily, he was the Prince of Mirkwood and would not allow his brain to tell him what to do!

The voice burst out laughing at that, but before he could find out what was so funny about his last remark, it happened: A voice vaguely reached his ears, a voice that, even though he couldn't understand it yet, could only mean that his fears had come true and someone was indeed trying to wake him.

Legolas gave a small, inward headshake of disgust. He would not listen to it; he would not allow it to draw him back to consciousness. He was rather happy here where he didn't have to think about anything, and he was sure that there was nothing out there worthy of his attention anyway.

The voice, however, did not agree with his plans or his assessment of the situation in general, and instead of fading as Legolas had hoped it became more persistent and urgent. He still couldn't discern what it was that the voice said, but judging by its tone it was becoming rather annoyed.

After a few more moments during which Legolas tried to ignore the voice as best as possible, a second voice joined the first, and slowly the elven prince began to understand what it was talking about.

"Prince … must wake … the king … kill us!"

The young elf frowned mentally. Either the voice wasn't thinking clearly or his ability to comprehend the meaning of simple sentences had somehow diminished, something that wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest, now that he thought about it.

Nevertheless, his curiosity had been kindled, and he found that he strained to understand what was being said when the first voice spoke up again, sounding slightly exasperated and, he thought, afraid.

"Be quiet, Anardir. Stay here and try to get him to wake up, and I will see if I can find Estel. He's not here, so he's bound to be in some kind of trouble."

The other voice replied, sounding rather whiny if Legolas was perfectly honest.
"I told them so, didn't I? I told them it wasn't a good idea, I told them…"

"Anardir…" the second voice all but growled.

"Yes, sir."

The only thing that could be heard after that was a tired sigh and the sounds of footsteps that slowly faded in the distance, but Legolas wasn't really paying much attention. One reason was that he didn't really feel like listening to the first voice that once again began to speak, beseeching him to return to consciousness, but the other reason was that he had realised the importance of something the second voice had said: Estel was not here and therefore was in trouble, or so it claimed.

It took him an eternity – Legolas knew that it were probably only a few seconds, but it surely felt like much, much longer – to fully comprehend what that meant. The face of a dark haired human, of Estel, flittered through his mind, smiling at him, and with a start the pieces he had been working so hard to put together fell into place. Aragorn was not with him. Aragorn was in trouble.

The sledges. The tree. The collision.

O Eru, please no…

All of the fair haired elf's resolve not to return to the present dissolved like snow in the sun, and in a complete reversion of his prior efforts he now struggled to regain consciousness with all his might. After a surprisingly short amount of time he managed to regain some control over his inert and, on second thought, fiercely hurting body, and gave a soft, rather pitiful moan. The voice seemed to be delighted though, and so the elven prince continued his struggle to reach the surface of the dark, swirling fog that wanted to keep him back.

"Prince Legolas? Highness, you have to wake up … do you know what your father will say to all this? Do you know what your father will do?"

That, Legolas decided rather grumpily, was not exactly something that served as an incitement for him to actually do what the voice said. If there was one thing he didn't want to think about right now, it was his father. No, that was not entirely true, he amended after a few moments when his goal was already so near that he could mentally have reached out and grasped it, he didn't want to think about Hithrawyn or any of Aragorn's family either. O the Valar, what would Lord Elrond say when he heard that he had killed his son by taking him for a ride on a sledge of all things? What would the twins say?

Oh no. The twins who were coming in a few days.

That little thought served to increase his will to return to consciousness tenfold, and so he finally managed to open his eyes, wondering for a moment if someone had seen it fit to glue them shut; not that that would really have surprised him at the moment either. At first, all he could see was white, and it took quite some time for his surroundings to finally swim into focus. When they did, he blinked in confusion at the face that filled almost his entire vision.

He knew it should be familiar, with golden hair and wearing a slightly panicked expression, but he could only connect it to a name when it began to speak, sounding torn between relief and overwhelming terror.

"My lord? Can you hear me?" A hand appeared alongside the face, holding up three slightly blurred fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Uh," was all Legolas could say, and he suddenly was very glad that Aragorn was not here to witness this. He would never stop teasing him about answering a perfectly normal question with "Uh". He cleared his throat and tried again, surprised himself at how weak his voice sounded. "Three? Anardir?"

The blonde elf beamed down on him and gave a huge, obviously heartfelt sigh of relief. So the prince had at least not suffered any serious head injuries, thank Ilúvatar…
"Yes, my lord," he nodded. "Captain Celylith and I came as quickly as we could when we heard the crash. You were flung quite a long way to the side, but you haven't been unconscious for long; fifteen minutes at most."

Legolas simply stared up at him, realising for the first time that he was lying on his back in the snow, not a very comfortable place to be now that he thought about it. Somehow, Anardir was leaving something very important out, something he really needed to know about… After a second, something clicked in his mind and he blinked, doing his best to control his anxiety.
"Estel?"

Had the elven prince been in a more concentrated or lucid state of mind, he would have seen the uncertainty flicker over the other elf's face.
"Lord Celylith is looking for him right now," Anardir soothed, trying very hard to look reassuring and in control of the situation and failing miserably on both accounts. "He'll be fine."

Legolas merely snorted and closed his eyes again when a wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. Well, he thought, maybe he did have a light concussion after all.
"It is Strider we are talking about," he reminded the other elf and slowly forced his eyes back open. "He is never fine, and certainly not when he claims to be." He took a deep breath and stretched out his hand, frowning slightly when it shortly multiplied in front of his eyes. "Help me up, please."

Anardir's eyes grew wide, and he shortly looked over his shoulder as if hoping that Celylith would return and relieve him of his unwilling patient.
"I do not think that would be a wise idea, my lord," he shook his head, trying to ignore the stubborn glint in the other's eyes. "There is that rather long gash on your temple, and your right arm is looking rather bad too. I think you shouldn't move at all until Lord Celylith returns with the ranger…"

As soon as Anardir mentioned his arm Legolas realised that it hurt indeed worse than the rest of his body – excluding his head of course, which seemed to be rather close to explosion or spontaneous combustion or something of the like – and he slowly turned the arm he was still stretching upwards to have a look at it.

He couldn't really understand why he hadn't noticed something sooner, but Anardir was right: "Looking not too good" was a rather accurate description. He hadn't felt anything when it had happened, which wasn't too surprising when one took into account that his whole body had literally been flooded with adrenaline then, but when they had hit the tree, his right arm must have been caught between the wood and the rest of his body. Almost his entire sleeve had been torn away, and the whole length of his arm was decorated with small and even a few big cuts, abrasions and bruises that promised to turn some rather interesting shades of the colours black and blue in the near future.

Legolas closed his eyes again and stifled the soft moan that wanted to escape his lips. Oh, wouldn't this make so many people so very happy?

He opened his eyes again and gave the blonde elf a hard look, preparing to push his body into a sitting position by himself.
"You will either help me up, my friend, or I will do it myself."

Anardir looked at him with weary, rather hopeless eyes and conceded defeat with a sigh. He gently pressed Legolas' injured arm back down and grasped his left hand instead, carefully pulling him into a sitting position and then to his feet. When they were finally standing, the prince's eyes were tightly closed again, and the way he breathed through obviously clenched teeth and the pallor of his skin did nothing to reassure the golden haired elf of the fact that this had been the right decision.

"I think you should sit down again…" he began carefully, trying to get through the prince's thick head and convince him that getting up really wasn't that good an idea, or, to be honest, not a good idea at all.

Legolas merely opened his eyes a little and glared at him, and Anardir knew that he could have saved himself the effort. The other elf was just as stubborn as his father, and there was no way he would be doing what he was being told if he didn't want to, again just like his father. And, Anardir added inwardly, it was rather obvious that Legolas didn't want to do what he was being told right now.

"Where is the tree?" Legolas simply asked, clenching his teeth tightly when his body informed him that it had just been flung through the air and that it was agreeing with Anardir on how sitting down sounded like a very good thing to do. "I have to see to Strider."

Anardir merely hung his head, deciding that he didn't care anymore if that action would indeed result in him having a neck like a swan. Sometimes, hanging your head was the only thing you could do to express your feelings.
"Right over there," he pointed somewhere to their left. "You got thrown clear of the crash. What happened anyway, my lord?"

Legolas shook his head slightly as they began to walk over the snow, and he found that he was leaning more heavily onto Anardir's arm than he would have wanted to, much to his dismay.
"It was an accident. Estel's steering cord tore and he couldn't avoid the tree. I tried to help him and we both collided with it."

The other elf had the good grace not to comment on the prince's explanation, even though he was experiencing the rather distinct urges to either shake his head in disbelief or to start laughing – once again, in disbelief. It was simply unbelievable how the two of them were doing it. He had been expecting them to hurt themselves while riding a sledge, yes, but this topped everything he had been able to come up with.

Legolas didn't seem to notice the other's lack of comment because he was rather concentrated on persuading his brain not to explode or do something equally unconstructive, and so they reached the tree after a few moments that was only a few dozen yards away. The elven prince did feel ready to drop, truth to be told, but the fear for his human friend kept him going and on his feet, and it even increased when he first saw Celylith's anxious face who was kneeling next to the tree half on the bank, half on the ice of the lake, and soon multiplied exponentially when they took a few more steps and he could see the silver haired elf's rather frantic movements.

"Celylith?" Legolas asked after a few moments, too afraid to really formulate a question. The other elf's body shielded what must be Aragorn from view; all he could see were parts of the man's cloak, a right elbow and left boot. What was left of their sledges lay scattered all around the tree, and when Legolas looked at the pieces that were not much larger than a few square feet each, he inwardly thanked Ilúvatar and all the Valar for watching over them.

Celylith's head shot up, startled. He had been so immersed in his work that he hadn't heard their approach that had been anything but stealthy, and this served to frighten Legolas even more.

"Legolas!" he breathed relieved, keen eyes quickly moving over the other's torn clothing, his injured arm and the large, no longer bleeding gash on his left temple. He narrowed his eyes slightly when he saw the slightly glazed look the blonde elf gave him, and quickly took half of the supplies that were spilling out of a small bag next to him and shoved them into Anardir's direction. "Here," he told the other elf, "that's all we have at the moment, but it should be enough."

He turned back around, certain that Legolas would be alright. He had quickly examined him when he had still been unconscious and had found that he was bruised and cut and would probably wake up with a headache of immense proportions but that his injuries were not life-threatening. Celylith turned his gaze back to the body in front of him. Just how did that reckless human do it all the time?

Legolas simply stared at his friend's turned back, his mind idly noticing that the other elf was reaching for a disturbingly large number of rolled up bandages. Had Celylith just dismissed him like an elfling?
"I am no child, and you can talk to me instead of about me just as well!" he complained, knowing full well that that remark sounded rather … well, childish. "What is wrong with him? Tell me!"

Celylith shortly turned his head, his hair slightly disarrayed and blue eyes troubled, annoyed and amused all at the same time. He gave Anardir a slightly questioning stare and when the other simply shook his head, he gave a sigh and forced himself to smile at his prince.

"Sit down and let Anardir tend you, and I will." He raised a hand – something that turned out to have been not very clever, since it was stained with dark red blood right about now – and halted the other's rebellious tirade before he had even opened his mouth. "No, my friend. Sit down, or I will order Anardir to drag you back to the horses and see to you there. I am the closest thing to a healer here, and it would be well within my right as such."

Legolas glowered at the other, inwardly rather relieved that Celylith took the time to argue with him because that meant that whatever injuries Aragorn had sustained, they couldn't be that grievous or Celylith would have been in a far worse mood and would definitely not have humoured him at all. He was very much like Lord Elrond in that matter, although he certainly was not skilled to the same extent as the elf lord or any of his sons, including Aragorn. Celylith knew that perfectly well, but he had learned much from his mother who had been a master healer before she had journeyed to the Havens with his sister, and his look was nearly as formidable as the young ranger's or his adoptive father's.

"Alright," he gave finally in and allowed Anardir to lower him to the ground, something that pleased his fiercely hurting body immensely. "There is no reasoning with you when you are obsessed with the idea that you are Lord Elrond anyway."

Celylith grinned, shifting slightly to the side to be able to tend to his patient better.
"I am glad that, after more than two thousand years, you have finally understood something as simple as that."

Legolas didn't answer, not because he agreed with his friend, not because he didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him that this was definitely not true, but rather because he was rather preoccupied with staring at the still body of his human friend that was lying in a crumpled heap next to the silver haired elf.

The fair haired prince blinked and quickly pushed down the worry that even intensified in his chest, threatening to crush his heart in his chest. O Elbereth Gilthoniel…

Celylith had either noticed his friend's silence who didn't even seem to feel that Anardir had begun wrapping a long linen bandage around his head or he had heard the other's sharp intake of breath. Whichever was the case, he quickly turned back to the elven prince, one hand still grasping the dagger which he had used to cut the human's clothing away from the wound.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he tried to reassure the other elf. "He will definitely live; I don't think it has pierced anything vital."

Legolas only nodded his head mutely, not really having heard what the silver haired elf had said, because, right now, it was rather hard to believe him. He did of course trust his childhood friend's judgement, especially with things like these, but at this very moment he found it hard to believe that this … injury was not severe and that it had not pierced anything vital. "It" was a splintered, ragged, about three foot long piece of wood that had buried itself in his human friend's side, literally impaling the young ranger.

The elven prince had to suck in a deep breath, and not only because Anardir had started cleaning his right arm, something that sent wave after wave of pain through his entire body. Aragorn must have been slammed against the tree when they had collided with it instead of being thrown clear, and had apparently been unlucky enough to be thrust directly upon the branch or whatever it was. Legolas stared with wide eyes at the man's still and unmoving form, noticing that his whole body was beginning to shake and feel inexplicably cold. A small, still reasonable part of his brain told him that he was just going into shock, but he ignored it, eyes still fixed unwaveringly on Strider.

Legolas kept his eyes on the back of his friend's dark head that was draped over the rough bark of the tree, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that Celylith had finished cutting away the fabric around the exit wound on the ranger's back. The wood had gone right through his left side, effectively pinning the man to the tree. The branch's point fortunately protruded from the other's back some inches left of his spine, and Legolas only needed to look at the glistering point that was wet with his friend's blood to start feeling definitely sick.

Celylith sat back a little, his hands hovering above Aragorn's still form as if he didn't really know what to do next. That was something Legolas did not want to see at all.
"What is it?" he asked the silver haired elf. "You said it was not that bad!"

Celylith gave the other elf a rather lenient smile, knowing better than to argue with him when he was in this state of mind, namely nearly out of his mind with worry.

"It isn't," he shook his head before returning his eyes to his patient. "I just don't really want to remove it since we don't have any styptic herbs here, but I don't think we have any other options really. We can move him, because it broke off and is no longer attached to the tree, but he is no elf, and leaving that piece of wood where it is could do more harm than good since his body is not as able to fight off infections as ours are."

Legolas bit back a moan when Anardir touched a particularly deep cut on his forearm and turned to glare at the golden haired elf who simply ignored him before he turned back to face his silver haired friend.
"Remove it then."

Celylith nodded and moved forward a little after making sure that he had all the bandages and herbs he might need close by, but before he could reach for the piece of wood that protruded from his friend's body, he froze when he heard a low, pain-filled moan. All three elves' eyes darted to the body of the young human who was obviously starting to come around, judging by another soft moan and a minute movement of his right hand.

Legolas shrugged Anardir off who had just tied off the bandage he had been wrapping around his arm and, ignoring the elf's pleas to stay where he was, stumbled over to the tree. He paid Celylith's reproachful glare no heed and let himself sink down on the other side of the tree so he could see his friend's face. Inwardly, he cursed the man for waking up now, but a small, selfish part of him was incredibly glad that he would get a chance to see if the human was alright.

"Estel?" he asked, trading short, worried glances with Celylith over the tree when the ranger didn't react at first. "Strider? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The man's eyes remained closed, but low mumbling could be heard, and when Legolas leaned closer, he could actually discern some words.
"What … stupid question …"

Legolas leaned back, feeling almost giddy with relief. Well, Aragorn was awake and acting just like normal, that much was sure. The elf reached out with his left hand and carefully brushed some hair out of his friend's eyes, noticing a large abrasion that was running across his forehead.
"Can you open your eyes for me, mellon nín? Come now, it surely can't be that hard, even for a human, can it?"

Whether his words had prompted the ranger to comply or not Legolas would never know, but after a few moments Aragorn's eyelids fluttered indeed open, revealing rather glazed, confused grey eyes that seemed to stare right through him.
"Legolas?" he asked weakly and bit back another moan when he tried to move before the two elves could restrain him. "What … happened to your head, in Eru's name?"

"Don't you remember?" the elf asked slightly worried, keeping his good hand on the other's shoulder to prevent him from moving again. "We crashed our sledges into that fallen tree. Surely you remember that?"

A wry grimace that might have been a smile flittered across that man's face, and he let his head sink forwards again, his eyes closing on their own account.
"Now that you mention it…"

Legolas traded a look with Celylith and shifted his hand from his friend's shoulder to his cheek, willing him to listen.
"Estel, you have a piece of wood in your left side. Celylith needs to pull it out before an infection can spread."

With an obvious effort, an eye was opened again, and Aragorn gave the blonde elf a blank stare.
"There are some … bits of information one does … not want to hear."

Legolas smiled and shook his head slightly, ignoring the way the pain in his head intensified yet again at that movement.
"Still, it must come out." He looked at the human with a pained expression. "It will hurt, my friend."

The man gave him a tired look.
"What did I just say?"

Legolas didn't answer, and so he added,

"I am a healer myself, Legolas. I know it will hurt. Just do it before I freeze to this cursed tree, alright?"

The elven prince nodded mutely, noticing for the first time that Aragorn was lying in a slowly growing puddle of icy water. Their crash, while obviously not hard enough to break it entirely, had at least cracked the ice a little, and some water was already accumulating on top of the gleaming, frozen surface. Legolas grimaced. He didn't really know what happened to humans when they were exposed to such circumstances for a prolonged amount of time, but he had learned enough in the past years to know that it wasn't pleasant, potentially dangerous and nothing he really wanted to know more about.

Legolas looked over his human friend's bowed head at Celylith and nodded his head again. The silver haired elf gave a nod in return and braced his left hand firmly against the man's back while Legolas gripped his shoulder again, and with a sharp intake of breath Celylith began to pull the wood out of the wound.

Aragorn's reaction was instantaneous and rather forceful, not that one of the elves had expected anything else. His body jerked and he unconsciously arched his back, trying to escape the painful treatment that felt more as if Celylith was trying to drive the wood deeper into the wound and not to pull it out, but his friends held him down firmly. Legolas gritted his teeth and bit down on his bottom lip when he saw the agony they were inflicting on the man, and so he greeted it with some relief and gratitude when, after a few more seconds, Aragorn passed out again with a pained cry.

Celylith's face had turned a rather interesting shade of grey by now that did not match his hair colour at all, but he didn't release his grip on either his human friend nor on the piece of wood he was beginning to despise with his entire being, and after some more moments the splintered branch finally slid out of the wound, glistering red in the sun's weak rays.

The elf dropped it without giving it a second glance, mild disgust written on his face, and took the bandages Anardir handed him, frowning slightly when he saw bright red blood flow out of the man's body. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, he thought worriedly as he pressed two thick pads against both the exit and entry wound and, again with Anardir's help, wrapped a long strip of linen around Aragorn's middle until he was satisfied that it would hold.

He quickly fastened the end of the bandage, draped the ranger's now rather torn coat over his patient and leaned back to sit on his haunches, wiping his brow to get rid of the sweat that had somehow accumulated there and leaving a thick, bloody streak on his forehead that neither he nor any of his companions noticed.

"Well?"

Legolas' worried, pressing voice made him look up, and he met his prince's apprehensive stare with what he hoped was a calm, professional expression on his face.
"He will be fine once we get him back to the palace, though he will have to rest for some days, I fear."

The blonde prince narrowed his eyes at him in obvious disbelief, his uninjured left hand still gripping Aragorn's shoulder as if reassuring himself that the man was still alive and wouldn't depart from this world anytime soon either. Celylith sighed. So much for his calm, professional healer expression.

"Truly, my friend," he tried to assure the anxious elf. "As long as we manage to keep the bleeding under control until we get back home, Strider will be just fine. Trust me, Legolas."

Legolas shifted uneasily, obviously torn.
"I do, but…"

Celylith smiled slightly and gently pulled Aragorn's unconscious body back, out of his friend's grasp and wrapped him more tightly into his cloak. Without really looking he knew that Legolas had shrugged out of his cape as well and took it with a small sigh.
"Trust me," he repeated as he drew the material around the man's shoulder. "He will be alright, but we need to get him back now. Both of you, to be precise."

The elven prince looked at him unwillingly, his bruised face creasing into a frown under the bandage that wound around his head.
"I am fine. I can carry hi…"

"No," Celylith shook his head and motioned Anardir to steady Legolas who had begun swaying slightly back and forth. "You are neither fine nor are you fit to carry anything that is heavier than a couple of feathers, and even about that I'm not yet sure. I will carry him."

"Celylith, I can order you."

"No, you can't," the silver haired elf shook his head again, looking rather smug while doing so one might add. "You have a head injury and are obviously not thinking clearly."

He took up the limp body of the young ranger and stood to his feet, ignoring the dark glares Legolas shot him which were slightly less intimidating than usual since he was apparently having a hard time concentrating on his face.
"And now, my lord, I would advise you to let Anardir help you back to the horses or I will order him to carry you."

Legolas attempted to give his childhood friend Lord Elrond's look but failed miserably since his vision became increasingly blurry by the second, and so he finally admitted defeat with a weary sigh and allowed Anardir to steady him.
"I will get you for this," he announced darkly when he and Anardir were following Celylith into the direction of the small shed. "Trust me, mellon nín. I will get you for this."

Celylith's pealing laughter was the only answer he received at first, and it took the other elf apparently some time to regain his breath to answer him, something that Legolas didn't really notice. The prince was beginning to suspect that he was being followed by a very stealthy, but obviously utterly deranged and sadistic lunatic who was doing nothing but thumping invisible rocks against his head. And said lunatic was apparently very good at what he was doing, too.

"I can hardly wait," Celylith snickered softly, something rather unbefitting an elf lord, Legolas thought darkly. "Once I have safely delivered you two into Hithrawyn's waiting hands, I don't really mind, to be honest."

Legolas' face turned even whiter, something Anardir hadn't thought possible, as his headache even increased, something Legolas hadn't thought possible.
"You just had to say it, hadn't you?" he questioned in a rather weak, dejected tone of voice as they climbed a small hill just next to the shed, doing his best not to stumble and fall.

Celylith shrugged as best as he could with Aragorn lying in his arms, and he stopped on the peak of the small, softly sloping hill and turned back to the two other elves.
"I guess so, my lord."

His eyes wandered over Aragorn's pale, still face and then over Legolas' which was even paler and pinched with pain and the obvious effort to remain on his feet. Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to smile, and in a matter of seconds he was grinning broadly.

Legolas might have been close to losing consciousness, but he wasn't entirely gone yet, and so he drew himself up to his full height and gave Celylith his darkest and most regal look, a display that lost some of its threatening effect since the only thing that really kept him upright was Anardir's arm.
"And what," he asked in an icy whisper that would have made his father proud, "is so very amusing about our situation, Lord Celylith?"

Celylith quickly bit back his laughter and did his best to assume an expression of hurt innocence, something he had learned very quickly when he had first met Legolas as a young elfling.
"Nothing, my prince. It is just…"

"Yes?!"

The grin on the silver haired elf's face reached improbable dimensions when he finally answered, apparently doing his best not to dissolve into laughter after all.
"Only you! Only you would manage to do something like this! By all the Valar, how do you do it?"

Legolas refrained from shaking his head, knowing full well how it would react to an action as foolish as that.
"It was an accident, Celylith! We didn't plan it or anything!"

"Of course you didn't," the other elf agreed and slowly began to descend the small hill, careful not to jostle the still body of the young man he held more than necessary. "But you still managed to impale yourselves on a tree!"

"I didn't impale myself, that was Estel…"

"A mere coincidence, it might just as well have been you," Celylith brushed his argument aside, already looking for their horses. He grinned even more broadly and shook his head again. "And it was the only tree in sight, too!"

"Celylith?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"Be quiet."

"Yes, my lord."




Some hours later, Celylith stopped his horse at the beginning of the long, broad alley that led up to the gates of the Palace of Mirkwood, an expression on his face that looked terrified more than anything else.

The silver haired elf's mind was spinning so fast that he was beginning to feel sick just by listening to a third of his thoughts. He needed to get Legolas and Aragorn back to the palace. At the palace waited Hithrawyn, King Thranduil and his father. Hithrawyn, King Thranduil and his father would be most displeased when they saw the state Legolas and Aragorn were in. Since he was – as he had predicted – the only person conscious and/or what one would call lucid, all three of them would kill him, one probably more painfully than the last.

O the Valar, what had he done to deserve such a fate?

"Sir?" Anardir's soft voice drew him out of his mildly panicked thoughts, and he slowly turned around, careful not to let the unconscious body he held up in front of him fall.

The golden haired elf tightened his grip on the elf who sat in front of him, looking at Celylith with eyes that were so wide and gleaming in the falling darkness that the other elf was sure that they could be seen for miles by anyone who had eyes to do so.

"Shouldn't we go on, sir?" Anardir repeated, giving the motionless figure of the other elf a taxing stare. "Then again, we could simply drop them at the gates and head for Mithlond as fast as possible."

Celylith had to shake his head forcefully to rid himself of this very tempting idea.
"No, Anardir, I think that wouldn't be such a good idea. But it sounds very inviting, I'll freely admit that."

"Well," the other shrugged, "It was worth a try."

Celylith gave the golden haired elf a look that was probably meant to express agreement and reassurance but that in reality did not even remotely express either, and quickly slipped his right hand under the man's chin who sat in front of him, slightly slumped forward.

It had only been after a rather long argument that had virtually got them nowhere that Legolas had accepted that first, he wouldn't be allowed to take Aragorn onto his horse and that second, he would definitely not be allowed to ride alone, not with a head injury and other injuries. Well, to say that the prince had accepted it went a little far, but in the end he had relented when it had become clear that Celylith's mind was set on this and when the exhaustion and stress of the last few hours had caught up with him. When they had left the small shed behind, Celylith inwardly vowing to come back in the near future and burn it as a precaution, Legolas and Anardir had been on one horse and Celylith had taken the young ranger onto his. Although he didn't believe the other's injury to be too serious, he felt better knowing that he would notice right away should the bleeding start anew.

After a few moments he was satisfied that the man's pulse was strong and steady, and when he moved his hand up to his forehead and let it linger there for a moment, he found that even his temperature was only a little higher than what he thought to be a human's wont. Celylith released a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding all the time. Aragorn was most probably going to be alright, just like he had told his prince.

Unless, a small, rather cynical voice injected, the ranger somehow managed to catch a horrible, undetectable infection that could only be cured with the root of a plant that was thought to be extinct, but that was discovered to have survived on a small patch of land next to the Dark Lord's tower. Celylith began to grin. That wouldn't surprise him in the slightest, and said root would probably have to be cut at full moon with one hand tied behind one's back or wearing clothes made of leaves or something similarly ridiculous in order not to lose its potency.

"Sir?" Anardir's voice prompted again, and Celylith reluctantly returned to the present which was not nearly as amusing as his little daydream of walking up to the Dark Lord's front door and asking politely for his permission to destroy his garden, but what other choice did he have?

"Yes," he told the blonde elf. "We should go before my father or the king decides to send out search parties. There is nothing more humiliating than being dragged back by a search party."

Anardir nodded, but still neither of the two made a move to spur on their horses. Celylith turned back to the palace gates that seemed to become darker and more menacing as the sun's light slowly faded, then back to have another look at Aragorn's still body, and finally back to the other elf.

"How is the prince doing?" he asked in an obvious attempt to stall.

Anardir frowned, his mood plummeting to new, unheard-of depths. He carefully twisted his body to the side in an attempt to look into the face of the elf that was seated in front of him, something to which Legolas had consented only with a great many glares and muttered curses that had been new even to Celylith's ears.

"Unchanged," he announced after a second, letting his eyes wander over the unmoving figure of his prince. "I am still not sure whether he is sleeping or semiconscious, though."

Celylith frowned as well, the worry he felt in his heart increasing again. He didn't believe that Legolas had really suffered a serious head injury, as he had been far too lucid, and, if he was honest, annoying a few hours before, but still, he wouldn't feel at ease until Hithrawyn had confirmed his diagnosis. He wasn't a healer, nor had he ever wanted to, and the fact that Legolas' eyes were half-lidded but that he still couldn't be woken from what looked on first glance like normal elvish sleep did nothing calm him down.

That thought seemed to convince him to finally start moving, and with a deep, resigned sounding sigh the silver haired elf began to direct his horse down the alley into the direction of the palace gates. Anardir gave the darkening, quite inviting woods a last look and followed the captain, Aragorn's horse and Rashwe, Legolas' animal that had been shooting the elf and his horse that now bore its master reproachful and dark glares, trailing dutifully behind.

Faster than either of them would have thought possible they passed the gates, and, ignoring the concerned and not all too surprised questions of the guards, reached the huge courtyard where they finally came to a stop in front of one of the side-entrances that was a lot closer to the healing wing than the main one. Besides, Celylith thought dryly as his horse stopped in front of the stairs, pounding sound of its hooves echoing loudly through the courtyard that had been cleared of snow earlier today (something Celylith already lamented, for it would have silenced their approach considerably had the stone tiles been covered with snow), there was also the chance that their arrival would draw less attention this way.

Right, he told himself as he dismounted and carefully pulled the unconscious ranger down from his horse's back, nobody would notice. He did his best to ignore the handful of elves who had already gathered around their four horses and began to make his way up the stairs, hearing that Anardir did the same. Nobody would notice them, and he would simply get those two to the healing wing and then leave Mirkwood, never to be seen again…

"And what, Captain, is the meaning of this?"

If it was possible for a heart to freeze and at the same time do a somersault in one's chest, Celylith's heart did just that. He took a deep breath and then another, but reminded himself just in time that now was definitely not the time to start hyperventilating. Slowly, he tore his gaze from Aragorn's scratched, sleeping face, wishing for nothing more than to be able to lose consciousness himself, and after a heartbeat he raised his eyes to meet a pair of dark green ones he knew only too well.

"Uhm," he began gracelessly, taking another hasty breath. "I … had nothing to do with it, sir!"

The tall, silver haired elf that barred his way merely raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.
"Really?"

Celylith shifted the man in his arms slightly, sensing how Anardir did his best to become invisible who was carrying the now definitely unconscious Legolas. No-one enjoyed encountering Lord Celythramir, the king's most important military advisor, in a bad mood, and it was quite obvious that he was in a bad mood right now.

"Really, ada," he tried to assure his father who simply continued looking at him, projecting an air of such disbelief that Celylith automatically asked himself why he was even trying. "It was an accident. But we really need to get them to Hithrawyn, even though their injuries are not very serious this time, I think."

Celythramir gave his far too innocent-looking son a long look and nodded after a moment, turning slightly to the right to nod at a servant who had just stepped out of the palace, apparently attracted by the low murmuring of the elves that had gathered around the small troupe by now.

"Please inform the king of the prince's arrival and tell him that we are waiting for him in the healing wing," he told the other elf who simply nodded and disappeared back into the building.

The silver haired elf surveyed the two young elves in front of him and stepped aside, motioning them to precede him.
"You will make Master Hithrawyn so very happy."

Celylith grimaced; that was a thought he had been trying to avoid for the past few hours.

His father's a little too calm voice tore him quickly out of his thoughts.
"What happened, my son?"

The young elf grimaced again. His father would definitely not like this.
"As I said, it was an accident. The prince and Estel…"

"…got ambushed by orcs. Or wargs. Or wolves. Or one of them got stuck in the Forest River and the other tried to rescue him."

Celylith shook his head, asking himself for a moment how his father knew that they had been close to the Forest River. After a second he remembered the rest of the hunting party that had probably arrived here earlier today; they would of course have informed his father and the captains of the guard of what had happened.

Before he could answer, a flood of healers seemed to wash out of the large doors that led to the healing wing some dozen feet in front of them, and within a second Celylith found himself relieved of his burden. He watched rather stunned how the healers carried their two new patients off, giving Hithrawyn who was standing on the doorstep and whose face was twitching rather noticeably nervous looks and whispering amongst themselves.

A few moments later they were gone, even Anardir and Hithrawyn who had appeared torn between the urge to wring his hands and use them to strangle the two young beings who were borne through the doors of what he considered his healing wing. Blinking slowly, Celylith began to follow them, needing a few moments to remember what they had been talking about.

"No, father. Nothing like that happened. They…"

"Yes?" his father prompted, exasperation in his voice.

Celylith steeled himself, stopped briefly and clenched his jaw. The silver haired elf met his father's eyes, noticing with some trepidation that they were nearly at the doors to the healing wing by now.

"We … had a little ride on the sledges that are used for the trade with Esgaroth. The prince and Strider crashed theirs into a fallen tree. My diagnosis is that Prince Legolas has a light concussion and a rather badly scratched and bruised and arm and Estel…"

"Yes?" Celythramir prompted again, his voice sounding suddenly rather tired and hoarse. He was obviously not looking forward to finding out what injury Lord Elrond's son had managed to sustain this time.

Celylith took another deep breath, wondering shortly if you could damage your brain with too much oxygen.
"And Estel impaled himself on a branch." He watched with somewhat detached interest how his father's face turned a peculiarly red colour and quickly tried to reassure him. "It hit nothing vital." His father was still staring at him as if he had just stated that Lady Galadriel had a horde of dwarven admirers, and so he added, "I removed it and we could stop the bleeding. Since he hasn't bled to death and there are no visible signs for an infection, I believe that he will swiftly recover, as always."

Celythramir took a deep breath and whirled around, following the healers. When they had reached the doors leading to the healing wing, he turned around and faced his son again, the red colour on his face fading slowly.
"Let me summarise all this. You decided to have a 'little ride on the sledges'."

Celylith hung his head and resisted the urge to bang the same against the rather solid-looking oaken doors. There was no reasoning with his father when he was using this tone of voice.
"Yes, ada."

His father was obviously not moved by his distress and continued, a glint in his eyes that was quite indescribable.
"Despite the fact that you know better than to allow them to do something like this, you let them have this 'little ride on the sledges' and they promptly 'crashed into a fallen tree'."

"Yes, ada."

"And as a result Prince Legolas has a concussion and Valar-know-what other injuries, and Lord Elrond's son 'impaled himself on a branch'."

"Yes, ada."

The older elf narrowed his eyes at the literally shrinking figure of his son.
"Just what sounds so very wrong about all this?" he added in a low, rather dangerous voice.

Celylith didn't answer. His father was right, it all was his fault. He never should have allowed Legolas to set a single foot on one of the sledges, and now no-one but he was to blame.
"I am sorry, my lord," he finally whispered. "I shouldn't have allowed the prince to do it, and neither should I have allowed Estel anywhere near the river. I am…"

Before he could say more, his father had taken a step forward, and a slender, cool hand was placed under Celylith's chin and lifted his head until their eyes met. Celythramir looked at his son with remorseful eyes; he hadn't meant to awake guilt in his heart. Both Celylith and the prince were too quick and too keen to blame themselves, and anyone who knew Prince Legolas knew that even the Lady Galadriel would have a hard time convincing him not to do something he had decided on doing. And when even the Lady of the Golden Wood was fated to fail, how should his son succeed? he asked himself wryly.

"It was not your fault, ion nín," he told the younger elf seriously. "Both of them are adults and make their own decisions. Older and wiser elves than you have failed when trying to convince the prince to abandon one of his plans. I am sure you did what you could, for the Prince and for Estel as well."

"It was not enough," Celylith stated softly, guilt etched onto his face.

"It was," his father shook his head. "They are still alive, are they not?"

The younger elf slowly began to smile and nodded his head, but before he could reply both of them looked up when they heard footsteps that were quickly coming closer, and it were footsteps they knew very well. Celylith almost closed his eyes and resisted the urge to hide behind his father as he had done when he had been a young elfling. He knew only one person who could express bad temper and anger through the rhythm of his footsteps: King Thranduil.

'O Ilúvatar,' Celylith began to pray, looking at his father with eyes that distinctly reminded the older elf of a cornered animal, 'Please, what have I done to deserve this fate?'

Celythramir watched for a few seconds how his son's face drained of all colour, and finally shook his head, grabbed his shoulder and gave him a gentle push into the direction of the rooms where the healers had taken the prince and the young ranger.

"Go," he told Celylith, "Go and see how they are doing. I will explain to the king what happened."

Celylith looked up with wide eyes and seemed to be one the verge of asking a question, but then another, apparently more intelligent part of him took over and he nodded quickly.
"Thank you, father. I will be with them if you or," he took a deep breath, "the king need me."

The younger elf gave his father a small bow and disappeared inside the healing chambers with the stealth and speed that did a warrior of Mirkwood justice.

Celythramir turned back around, a small smile on his lips that quickly faded when he heard the footsteps of his king that were quickly drawing closer, footsteps that did not sound happy at all. The silver haired elf sighed and straightened his back, green eyes fixed unwaveringly on the end of the corridor where King Thranduil would be appearing any second now.

He was far too old and experienced to be afraid of the son of Oropher, but to be perfectly honest, he was feeling a tiny bit uneasy at the prospect of facing a worried, angry and ill-tempered Thranduil. He shook his head slowly as the irate, positively fuming figure of his liege appeared round the corner, moving with the purposefulness of a troll that had just rudely been awoken from hibernation.

As soon as Prince Legolas and Strider had regained consciousness, he would have a little talk with them and his son. Royalty or not, there were some things one simply did not do and went unpunished, and getting him, Lord Celythramir of Mirkwood, into such a position was one of them.





TBC...





 mellon nín - my friend
ada - father (daddy)
ion nín - my son




See? They're fine - or they will be. *shrugs* Same difference. Please note that I never stated how long that condition will last... *evil laugh* Okay, so the next chapter will be here on ... hmm, what about Thursday? Then we will see more of the most pitiable healer of all of ME, find out how Aragorn and Legolas are _really_ doing and finally meet the evil guys! As always, reviews are much appreciated! So: Review? Yes please!





Additional A/N:

Aratfeniel - You don't like cold? Really? I love snow and ice, even thought I have to admit that falling onto snow _can_ be rather cold. *shrugs* But falling ontp snow is basically what snowball fights are all about, so... *g* Don't worry, we'll have some blood and all that in here, so you should be happy...
Deana - LOL, yes, flying elf indeed. Unfortunately there is that stupid, annoying little thing called gravity, it ruins all the fun all the time... It's great to hear that you enjoy my weird little story so much, and don't worry, Legolas has sustained some injuries, as has Estel. Not too much though since he has to get better so he can get captured soon ... Oops, did I say that out loud? *evil grin* Just ignore that comment, alright?
LOTRFaith - *g* No, I definitely won't get away now. Not a chance, unfortunately, and I was SO looking forward to posting without you noticing! *hangs head* Well, you can't have everything, can you? *g* Great you like Celylith and Anardir, they are both not very happy right now. *shrugs* Can you blame them? Not really, I think....
Amelie - *defensively* Hey, I didn't know you were going to surgery! I hope it's nothing too serious? Personally I am mortally afraid of doctors and hospitals, which is probably connected to the fact that about 2/3 of my family are doctors. *g* *blushes* Thanks for saying that my writing has improved. I think so myself, kinda, and sometimes when I'm reading AEFAE I'm cringing in embarassment. *laughs* Rather often, actually. Well, I do hope you're better now! Thanks for reviewing!
Calenore - Indeed, they ran into a tree, which _shouldn't_ be too awful, you're right there. Then again, this is _my_ story, meaning that lots of weird, dangerous, painful things can happen to you, especially when you're a certain elf and/or ranger... *g* Thanks for reviewing!
Nikara - That's always the question, isn't it? Should one be happy about the cliffies (for they bring action and angst in their wake) or be mortally afraid? I for my part love them, but I'm not exactly what you would consider "normal" either... Great you liked the little colour-bit, it was just one of those spontaneous, weird little ideas I get continuously when writing. *sighs* I'm can't stop them, I'm completely helpless!
Gwyn - So, I can KILL Celylith, but not premanently? I'm sorry, but I don't get that. I don't do this kind of thing - if I kill people, they're dead. Last story Legolas and Aragorn never got the chance to properly check if Celylith was dead or alive, but I usually don't bring people back from the dead. It's always a little bit like a "deus ex machina", I never liked it. *shrugs* That's me. But I admit that he probably longs to be dead to be rid of them - and you're right, we can't have that! *g*
TrinityTheSheDevil - You do realise that threatening me and stuffing snow in my clothes won't help getting the chapter more quickly? Besides, I am the proud survivor of more than a hundred snowball fights with my older brother and his friends - all-goes, no-rules snowball fights. You can't scare me!! *shakes fist* But yes, I'm an evil person, or at least my alter ego is, which is the same thing since she's a part of me - I think. I never really thought about it. *g* And I will ask and reveal that English or American English or whatever is not my first language: What does "spaz" mean? Is it a verb? To spaz? *looks confused*
Dha-Gal - *greedily grabs bag of Skittles* I LOVE skittles! Only the green ones though - they're so wonderful! Ambrosia is nothing compared to them! *calms down slightly* Thank you. I will greedi ... gladly accept this gift from you. I am glad I could make you happy with my little cliffy. *g* Somehow I have the feeling that Legolas feels pain all the time! He really is a poor little elfling... *huggles him* Well yes, THOM was 475 pages, but they're word document pages. It wouldn't be nearly as much in a real book. *stops huggling Legolas and huggles Dha-Gal instead* Thank you for all your reviews and compliments! It's great you like this!
Firnsarnien - Rocket launchers, eh? Well ... I'll think of something. You can't intimidate me! *shakes fist and grin sheepishly* They taught me that in the "How to stand up to your readers"-class. It's not really working, huh? *shrugs* Ah, what the heck. *beams* Thanks for saying that I write the worst cliffies! That really means a lot to me! *whistles innocently* Huh? Aragorn and Legolas get hurt in the crash? Whatever gave you that idea? *shakes head* Really, you're having silly thoughts... *g* Well, as I said in the A/N, you're getting your Elf Angst, but not too much. Okay? *sighs* That was a really stupid question, right?
Alisha B - *awed* You are truly a great healer, Mistress Alisha! You managed to stop the bleeding with a SINGLE band-aid? You must be the greates healer in all of ME ... *notices Elrond's dark look* after the Lord of Imladris, of course. *pats Elrond's head* You're the best, no doubt. *g* And I completely agree with you. It wasn't that bad, and all the people here are exaggerating things horribly! But: How do you know they're simply unconscious? I never said that... *inches backwards cackling maniacally* And I'm sorry for distracting you from your work; I know exactly what you mean. I do it all the time as well...
TrustingFriendship - You're reading my mind. *g* They indeed need to get back to the palace to mend a litle before getting into the REALLY bad trouble - one of the rules of Nili fics! No-one must get into deep trouble when being in a really bad condition - story endings excluded. During the last three or four chapters everything is allowed. *evil grin* Thanks a lot for all your reviews! I probably said it before but I thought I'd say it again. *g*
Leggylover03 - *dubious look* I very much doubt that you are able not to speak of Aragorn pain for more than two reviews in a row! *g* There's nothing wring with that too... And I have to disagree, this was not an evil cliffy. There are much worse ones to come, just you wait! *evil grin*
ManuKu - Knuddelflecken sind halt die Strafe fuer langes Nicht-Reviewen! Du kannst doch nicht von mir verlangen, dass ich meine Begeisterung so lange im Zaume halte, oder? *grosse Augen* Man kann Zwerchfelle ins Fitnesstudio schicken? Na, wenn ich das frueher gewusst haette, dann haette ich das garantiert gemacht, bevor ich 'Ice Age' gesehen haette. Ich liebe diesen Fell, und ein trainiertes Zwerchfell waere da schon ganz nuetzlich... *g* Ach, du magst diese Legolas-Agent-von-was-weiss-ich-was-Geschichten? Ich gebe offen zu, dass das nicht so meine Lieblinge sind, aber ich glaube, ich habe noch ein paar Szenen dieser Art - die ich eher als Richtig-saurer-Waldelb bezeichnen wuerde - in petto! Ich muss allerdings zugeben, dass das mit der Jahreszeit ein totaler Zufall ist, daran hatte ich gar nicht gedacht. Jetzt wo du's sagst allerdings... *g* Vielen Dank fuer deine Reviews, es ist schon, dich wieder dabei zu haben! *Doppelknuddel*
Jenny - *g* Gollumette - I had completely forgotten about that one! Great, I love it! And it's not me who needs stopping - it's my alter ego! She's too powerful for me ... HELP! *g* Thanks for reviewing nonetheless, there are no cliffies in the near future. Scout's honour.
Mouse5 - Yeah, I guess you really could see it coming. Great you liked it though, personally I don't think it was too bad, really. And now that I think about it, the Aussies I've met were really willing to bet on anything - might be a national disease... *grins and frowns* There are no such things as national diseases, right?
Bailey - Uhm, well ... no, she wouldn't. My alter ego's quite nice once you get to know her. She's not THAT bad, really. And it wasn't that bad a cliffy either. Rather one of the harmless, enjoyable sort, right? Right? *sighs* I guess not. And you're right, there will indeed be a bit Legolas angst in the next few chapters - that elf is just too easy to read, isn't he? *g* Well, I do hope the cliffy didn't shock you too much, and it's great to have you back! Thanks for reviewing!
Firniswin - Wow, you're volunteering at your church? I'm very much impressed - the last time I was inside a church was when I was baptised. I must have been five years old or something. *shrugs* Well, going to a Jesuit school does wonders for dimishing your faith to nothing. It's amazing, really, and not at all what they're intending, I imagine... *g* And don't worry about Hithrawyn, he wouldn't REALLY kill them - I think...
CrazyLOTFfan - *g* Great to see that you enjoy cliffies so much! Mind you, I could have guessed really, you are that insane Canadian girl, aren't you? And you people still don't want a Nili Day, right? *sighs* Well, you can't have everything... And yes, you're right, that is indeed the pattern of my story, more or less at least. They're kind of stupis, it works every time... *g*
Shanna - Okay, I have to admit I have a slight problem here: I do not speak a single word of Spanish. Well, that's not really correct, I might know three or four, but not much more than that. I do know Latin however, so I can guess what it means, therefore: Thank you very much! I hope this update was quick enough and you didn't get too impatient. Thanks a lot for the review which looked indeed very nice in Spanish!
Conn JS1 - *blushing* Thank you very much! Your compliments are definitely not good for my ego - they kind of give me delusions of grandeur - but are still very nice to hear! *g* It's very nice to hear that you're enjoying this story so far - and it's not really taking an effort to write them, they're writing themselves, which is really disconcerting now that I think about it. *g* Thanks for the very nice review!
Suzi9 - *pats her shoulder encouragingly* Don't cry, now - that happens to me all the time. That's the reason why I have become obsessed with saving everything every five seconds - it might take some time, but this way you make sure that you don't lose too many things. Then again, the one time I DO forget to save something, the computer crashes as if it knows - very scary... Computers are evil, we all know that. Still, I hope yours will get better soon - we love them nonetheless, right?
Mystic Girl1 - *verbeugt sich* Ich bin immer gluecklich, jemanden den Dienstag zu retten. Dienstage sind furchtbar, fast so schlimm wie Montage, aber nur fast. *g* Ich wollte ja auch immer einen Langbogen probieren, habe aber das ganz dumpfe Gefuehl, dass ich da ein wenig zu schwach fuer bin. Ich habe mal in England eine Reportage drueber gesehen, und da musste man Rambo Junior fuer sein. Unfair ist das Leben. LOL, dass mit Aragorn und dem Fluss geht mir ganz aehnlich. Er ist ja wirklich manchmal ein wenig dreckig, nech? *g* Du treibst also Verkaeufer in den Wahnsinn? Habe ich neulich auch gemacht, mit einem Bertelsmann-Vertreter. Ich galube, der war am Ende ganz schoen fertig... Also ehrlich, ich fand den cliffy gar nicht so schlimm. Haette schlimmer sein koennen. *g* Huh? Warum solltest du ungebracht werden? Sind deine Leser so rabiat? Na ja, wie dem auch sei, ich hoffe, dir geht es gut; vielen Dank fuer die lange Review! *knuddelt*
Louise_Oblique - Hmm, you are the first one who actually sees this as part of a series. I guess it is one by now, but it still feels kinda weird reading it. *shrugs* You're right though. Great to hear that you enjoy the 'series' (*g*) so much, thanks a lot for the review!
Gimli'sBeard - You really are collecting screen names, right? *g* Well, nothing to say against that, I guess - though I for my part am having more than enough trouble remembering my own... *wide-eyed* You want to hit me with a squirrel or a duck? That's really evil, mate, always remember: Dead authors can't post. Besides, it wasn't that evil, now was it? No, it wasn't. I won't even ask why you have a cheese hat though. There are some things not even I need to know. *g*
Lady Elessar - Uhm ... huh? A sledge? Okay, let's see... (1) A vehicle mounted on runners for transportation over snow [syn: sled, sleigh]; (2) A strong vehicle with low runners or low wheels; or one without wheels or runners, made of plank slightly turned up at one end, used for transporting loads upon the snow, ice, or bare ground; a sled; (3) A sleigh [Eng.]; (4) A hurdle on which, formerly, traitors were drawn to the place of execution. [Eng.] Hmm, I didn't know about (4). You learn something new every day, I guess... Well, I'm sorry, I didn't know that the word was so uncommon. It never even crossed my mind, I'm afraid...
Seveawen - Uhm, okay, yes, you're getting married. Well, in fact it's _Seveawen_ who's getting married and ... *trails off* Of course you are, forget I said anything. *g* *sternly* Pizza is bad for you. Listen to your doctors, they know best. *g* And don't worry, I wouldn't dream about telling anyone that you were here. Your secret's safe with me. Promise.
Just Jordy - It was my pleasure to put a note for you in here, I always do that. When you people review the least I can do is reply, right? Your reviews do indeed encourage me, so keep on writing them! *winks*
Shauna - Ouch - three times? That's gotta hurt... I am of course glad that you like it so much, but would prefer you to stay in your chair. I can't have you fall out of it and hurt yourself. *g* The answer to the questiojn of how I could stop here is rather simple though: I'm evil? That helps enormously, really... *g* I'm very flattered that you put this onto your favourites list - thanks! And thanks for the review as well, they really help and encourage me loads!
Maerz - Ich gebe zu, dass ich regelmaessig auch ziemlich doll lache. Meistens jedoch gar nicht so sehr, da reicht's dann nur fuer 'n muedes Grinsen... LOL, du koenntest Recht haben. Arwen ist definitiv am Ar***, kannst du dir vorstellen, mit Aragorn verheiratet zu sein? *ueberlegt und faengt an zu sabbern* Och, ich eigentlich schon...Ueber Thranduil findet man wirklich nur wenig, leider. Ich mag ihn ja auch ganz gerne, obwohl er - wie sein Sohn - ein dummer bonder Waldelb ist... *g*
Halfling - LOL, well, I guess Legolas and Aragorn looked cool first and were dead then. *hastily* I didn't mean that literally, it would be no fun at all if I killed them now, right? And I have to admit that you're right; the future won't be too pleasant for our dear elf and ranger - but they don't know that yet, do they? *evil cackle* They could have guessed though... Great you liked the cliffy, it wasn't that bad, was it? Thanks a lot for reviewing!
Carla - Dafuer, dass das deine erste Review ist, ist sie aber schon sehr gut! *g* Es ist schoen zu hoeren, dass dir meine seltsamen kleinen Geschichtchen gefallen - wie man im Englischen so schoen sagt, the more the merrier. Die Ideen kommen einfach so, ehrlich, ich plane nur die groben Zuege, der ganze Rest ergibt sich so, ganz ohne mein Zutun. Manchmal glaube ich echt, dass die Charaktere einen eigenen Willen haben... Und Recht hast du, so kriegt man VIEL mehr Reviews! Ich danke auf jeden Fall fuer deine Erstlings-Review und hoffe, dass dir der Rest der Geschichte auch gefallen wird!
Zam - *grrrr* Another one! I hate you! I hate ALL of you! I want that bloody DVD too! But I'm broke and won't get it before Christmas - so I'd advise you not to speak of it again! Understood?! I won't react well to it, I'm warning you right now! *calms down slightly* I'm calm, I'm calm... *giggles* A love triangle? Well, that does sound interesting - I'm getting the faint impression that neither Galalith nor Celylith is very happy about that particular idea... *g* Oh, and I wasn't talking all their injuries, only about the injuries Celylith sustained in the last story. I didn't forget about the little drowning incident, believe me, and neither did Legolas, unfortunately. He's still trying to kill me for that one... Great you liked the chapter though, and now let me huggle you for no reason at all. *huggles her* Okay, done.
Elenora1 - *smiles innocently* I? Trying to give you a heart attack? Whatever gave you THAT idea? Really, that wasn't my intention at all... Nor my alter ego's. She's really kinda sweet once you get to know her better. Honestly. *g* I'm very impressed by your self-restraint though. If you keep that up, you might get over your fanfic-obsession in ... hmm, what about a decade? Sounds just about right? Mind you, _I_ would need a few centuries - so I'd better not try in the first place.
Critternut - Yeah, I agree with you, Estel has always something to complain about. I think he refers to that as "teasing". *g* I have to disagree though! It's not always Aragorn's fault! This time it definitely was Legolas' - as was the whole Dale/Erebor fiasco last story. *nods firmly* My ranger is innocent. Well, about the sledges: I'm quite sure they had sledges in ME, I honestly can't think of a good reason why they shouldn't. They had elaborate water mills and things like that, so why shouldn't they have a sledge? You also have to remember that the Elves taught Men since they first awoke, so if Men have things like sledges, Elves would probably as well. But that's a matter of interpretation I guess. As I said in the A/N though, Legolas won't get captured soon, sorry. More like ch. 7/8 to be honest. *g*
Halo - Uhm, I was supposed to tell you? *grins sheepishly* Jeez, sorry... You moved? Where did you move to? Still in the same city so we can see each other again when I come back for another visit of your lovely country? I really hope so, because I don't think that we would be able to meet should you have moved to Wales or something equally remote. *g* And I couldn't stand being nice any longer! Three chapters were already too long! And: The bear thing was your fault too! *shakes head* Denying it won't change anything, better accept it... *huggles Halo* Thanks a lot for reviewing! I missed you!
Salara - Na ja, ab und zu haben wir ja alle solche kleinen, etwas albernen Anfaelle, nech? Und du weisst doch: Alter schuetzt vor Dummheit nicht - oder so aehnlich... *g* Ich gebe dir allerdings Recht: Es war vollkommen klar, dass das in die Hose gehen wuerde. Uns auf jeden Fall, Aragorn und Legolas sind da ein wenig schwerer von Begriff scheint es... Und Anardir und Hithrawyn koennen einem wirklich leid tun - bei den beiden Chaoten... *knuddelt Salara* Danke fuer deine Reviews! Mir war gar nicht aufgefallen, wie ich euch beide vermisst habe!
Alilacia - YOU! *huggles fiercely* I misse you! I thought you were DEAD or something! It's great to 'see' you again! Now that I think about it, I did know that you were moving, stupid me. *shakes head* That's me, stupid and a head like a sieve. And yes, YOU inspired that cliffy. I see that you remember the review, and I can assure you that this particular idea was firmly planted in my head by your remarks. *g* So you see, it's only you who is to blame, not me. And you're right, I guess you should run ... *points at horse of angry readers* fast. Very, very fast. *huggles again* Thanks so much for reviewing! I really missed you!
Sirithiliel - Yes, Legolas' horse will be in here. I think Rashwe even appears in this chapter, shortly, and then in chapter *thinks and counts* 6, I think. And then 8. I haven't got any father yet, but I don't think that it will be in here much more often, sorry. *g*
ThE iNsAnE oNe - Yay! Another insane, weird, crazy mega-review from Miki! *g* I have to agree with my dear Nólad: You're a wuss. Anything down to and including - 10 °C is nothing. You should come and try it here in December/January...*evil grin* You'd probably turn into a popsicle. ROTFL, "demonic potato of doom"? That's a new one! An evil mastermind of a potato - interesting description, yes, but oh so very fitting... And you're really having a slight schizophrenic problem here - I think you should call Dr. Freud and get an appointment. Or two. Three. What about a whole bunch? *g* *offended* My stories are NOT getting mushy! It was a once-only-thing! I could tell you things about chapter 8 that would make you WEEP! But I won't because I'm evil! You hear me? EVIL!!! *calms down slightly* Sorry about that. But I do NOT write mush. Understood? *narrows eyes* Alright... Thanks a lot for the usual dose of weirdness! I needed just that!
Psychomare - *g* A ghost that can pelt a person with sharp objects? I have to admit that I would simply LOVE to see that, so I guess I shouldn't update - but then again, I don't overly enjoy being pelted either, so... *shrugs* Update it is then. THanks a lit for your review, and I hope this was soon enough!
Marbienl - Hmm, not Nabur or Dofur? Then it's Frerin or Frór - I don't think I had more dwarven OCs. Yup, it's definitely Frór, and you're WHAT? Abusing him as a lawn ornament? You should be ashamed of yourself, really... *g* LOL, yeah, I guess it was Anardir's fault, kind of at least. I don't think Thranduil would believe either Legolas or Aragorn though should they tell him that - lucky Anardir! *g* You're right though: No normal person could survive treatment such as the own we make them undergo all the time. Estel would have been turned into a vegetable before he had even turned 12, I think! Poor little ranger...

And, again, thanks a lot for all the wonderful reviews. I told you way too often how much I love them and they encourage me, so I won't say it again. *g* Okay then.