To Walk In Night

by Nili

Just before Aragorn should travel back to Rivendell, a Mirkwood patrol is attacked and Legolas captured. When Aragorn finally finds him and his captors, both come to realise that a dark force is stirring in Rhûn that might destroy all they hold dear.

9. Confirmed Fears

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

Yes, yes, I KNOW. It was evil and mean and sadistic and lots of other things to kill Galalith. Trust me on this, I didn't enjoy it one bit either. Honestly. It just had to be done, because his death was the thing that inspired me to write this story in the first place. You'll see what I mean in the end - if I ever finish this story, something I am beginning to doubt more and more. These characters just don't shut up! I don't want to have more than thirty chapters in the end, and yet they refuse to do what I tell them! *shakes head* Bloody elves. They're doing this on purpose, I'm telling you.

Okay, be that as it may, I hope you all had a lovely Christmas, if you celebrate it, that is. Mine was great, I got loads of wonderful books, dictionaries and the like, new computer games and, of course, *suppresses an excited squeal* the Ext. Version of TTT. *huggles DVD box* Wonderful present, yesss precioussss... *g*

Oh, and I'm sorry for not updating yesterday, but I really was sick the last few days. Believe it or not, it started on the evening of the 24th and the next morning I woke up with the most wonderful cold you can imagine. It was a really wonderful way to spend the holidays - then again, it was an excuse to stay in bed all the time and read most of the new books I got. That's something, right?


Very well, that was enough mindless blabber, I think, so, on to the chapter! And yes, it has Aragorn in it - I didn't know you would miss him so much after only a chapter! *g* So, we have him, he even gets a present (just fair, even if they don't celebrate Christmas in ME), Legolas has some innocent little conversations with various people during which he manages to antagonise _no-one_, of course (*g*), and, well, let's just say that bad news travel fast. *shrugs sadly* It's true.

Enjoy and review, please!

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Chapter 9


He was behaving like a sullen, stubborn child; no-one knew that better than he himself.

Aragorn scowled at the wall of his room and turned around to walk back the way he had come, all the twenty-seven paces that separated him from the balcony doors. The young man had to suppress a small, wry smile. Yes, from the door to the balcony it was twenty-seven paces, and from the fireplace to the forth wall approximately eighteen. He wasn't sure about the exact distance yet since the bed was in the way, but the way things were going, he would be willing to walk right over it soon.

The ranger reached the balcony doors, and with a shrug of his shoulders he opened them and stepped outside, taking a deep, still somewhat shaky breath when the cold assaulted him. He stopped at the low railing that encircled the small space, gripping the old, smooth wood with both hands while he stared at the snow-covered palace gardens. Usually, it brought him peace to sit here and watch the beautiful trees of the royal gardens, for they reminded him greatly of his own home, alike and yet so different that they were to the trees that could be found in Rivendell.

But today, he mused silently, the trees brought him not the desired peace, nor happiness or any other emotion he craved. Today all they seemed to do was enhance and deepen the unease that had taken up permanent residence inside his heart.

Aragorn didn't really know why he was having these feelings; no, that was not entirely correct, he knew why he was having them but not why. The dark haired human grinned darkly, eyes wandering over the dark gardens as if hoping to see something that would put his mind at ease. If he ever told his father something like this, Elrond would probably look at him with that unique, searching gaze of his before ordering the twins and Glorfindel to lock him into his room until he stopped talking such nonsense. Then he would probably send messages to the Lord and the Lady of Lórien, Gandalf and perhaps even Saruman the Wise, asking if they could think of anything that would make his human son act so peculiarly, and the whole thing would probably result in him being forced to drink many potions he had never before heard of or seen and hadn't had the desire to become aquainted with either.

The young ranger grinned again. Legolas would probably react just like that as well and would do just the same except the unique, searching gaze. His friend would merely glare at him before dragging him to Hithrawyn if he knew him at all. And there he was at the source of his problems: Legolas. He knew why he was feeling so uneasy: Because Legolas had abandoned him here in this amazingly boring place to go and check on the patrols, but that didn't answer the question of why he was having these feelings.

Aragorn shook his head. He was of course aware of Legolas' ability to get himself and others into trouble, but he could honestly not think of anything that might threaten his friend now. He was merely travelling through Mirkwood, the woods of his home, and Aragorn could think only of two or three elves who knew their way around the forest better than his friend.

With a frustrated growl he turned around and began pacing back and forth on his balcony, an activity that was neither particularly rewarding nor very effective since there was only enough space for a few steps into either direction. Legolas was probably right, the man reasoned darkly, maybe he was merely angry that he had been left behind like a child that was too young to look after itself.

Deep down he knew of course that, for his elven friend, it had been the right and logical thing to do, since he was really not feeling that good if he was perfectly honest, but that did nothing to ease the feelings of frustration and fear in his heart. He would have felt a lot better had he been allowed to go with the elf, even though he would probably have frozen to his horse by now, considering the snow storm. Some of the other elves he had spoken to were already beginning to declare that this storm was among the fiercest Mirkwood had seen in a long time, and it was showing no signs of abating anytime soon.

No, Legolas was probably not in more danger than during the past five weeks they had spent in the palace – no, to be honest, he was probably a lot safer. Right now, Aragorn was willing to admit that accidents and mishaps were commonplace when he and the elven prince were together for an extended period of time, even though he refused to admit that they were to blame in any way.

Slowly, he was beginning to feel the cold, and the thought of what his brothers would say when they arrived here and found him sick prompted him to step back into the warm, cosy room that was lit by the dancing, flickering flames of the fire that blazed in the hearth. He smiled, the worry for his friend for a moment forgotten when thought of his brothers.
He was greatly looking forward to seeing them again, even though he was rather sure that their reaction would be somewhat … irrational and definitely over-protective when they heard about even a third of the things that had happened during his stay here in Mirkwood, and he didn't even want to think of their reaction to their little "adventure" in Lake-town and Dale.

Still, it would be wonderful to see them again, and he was looking forward to travelling home and seeing his father. He had very much missed Elrond, and no matter how much he enjoyed Legolas' and Celylith's company he was ready to admit that he was beginning to feel slightly homesick. Mirkwood might be beautiful in its own way, but for someone who had grown up in the openness and safety of Imladris it was a rather dark and oppressive place to be.

A soft knock sounded on his door, ripping him out of his reverie and instantly renewing the worry in his heart. He didn't have his father's foresight, even though he knew that those of the royal house of Númenor did possess it as well, but not to the same degree. Whether it was indeed foresight he did not know, but he was having a bad feeling about all this, a bad feeling that was beginning to leave "bad" far behind and to border on "panicky".

A few seconds later the doors opened, revealing one of the younger lieutenants that were guarding the gates. His name was … Erelas, yes that was it. He had been one of the warriors that had been chosen – or, as those elves had probably termed it, condemned – to accompany them on the rather ill-fated hunting trip, and Aragorn had spoken to him once or twice, coming to the conclusion that he was a kind if somewhat reserved and introvert person.

"Erelas," he greeted the dark haired elf who was stepping into the room, a large package under one of his arms. "Is something the matter?"

The elf looked confused for a moment but began to smile when he understood what the human meant.
"No, Strider, everything is fine. We have had no word from the prince, but that doesn't mean anything. He will be back tomorrow anyway, so he wouldn't need to send a message unless there was something wrong."

Aragorn smiled ruefully, inviting the other to step closer which he did, closing the large, dark wooden doors behind him.
"I guess it is a good sign then. I am merely feeling uneasy, but that might be because I still expect Hithrawyn to appear and drag me back to that prison he calls a healing wing."

"So it is true then!" The elf arched a dark eyebrow in mocking surprise. "He has released you."

"Oh yes," the young ranger shrugged, sitting down on his bed and motioning Erelas to sit down in an armchair next to the fireplace. Before he had even realised what he was doing, he had begun fiddling with the edges of the finely woven blanket that lay atop the others. "He released me about two hours ago, even though he looked rather unhappy about it. He really wanted me to stay for another two days!"

"So you are feeling well?" the other inquired suspiciously. He too knew that the twin sons of Elrond would be arriving in a few days, and he also knew what would happen to all of them if the dark haired elves' human brother was ill because of their negligence and ignorance of human ailments. And he imagined that the members of the patrol that had not been there to help when Strider and Prince Legolas had had their last "accident" would be first on the twins' list.

"Yes," Aragorn assured the elf in a long-suffering tone of voice and rolled his eyes. He was beginning to suspect that his brothers had threatened some of Mirkwood's warriors with death, dismemberment or other equally unpleasant things should they not make sure that their little brother was unscathed when they returned. "Yes, I am well. I am merely a little restless, that's all."

Erelas once again arched that dubious eyebrow of his, causing the young human to suspect yet another thing, namely that his father had taught him to do that. There were quite a few of the Lord of Rivendell's mannerisms that various other elves were beginning to adapt, among them dubious-eyebrow-arching, derisive-snorting and threatening-looking. The latter was something no-one but Elrond's immediate family ever succeeded in, something that filled Aragorn with a substantial amount of satisfaction.

Aragorn adopted said look and merely looked at the dark haired elf who soon had to avert his eyes, something that increased the man's gleeful feelings even more. No matter how many times he managed to do this, he was always feeling immense pride at making one of the Firstborn avert his or her eyes.

Erelas looked down at the stone floor and noticed the large package he had put down next to the armchair. With a quick headshake he grabbed it and offered it to Aragorn, who took it with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What is this? It is not yet Yestarë, is it?"

The dark haired elf rolled his eyes, wondering once again how this human managed to annoy him so easily.
"No, Master Human, it is not. Winter Solstice is in two months, as you well know. This arrived earlier today with some human merchants from Dale. They asked it to be delivered to you, and since you were still in the healing wing when it arrived, I thought I'd bring it to you now."

"Dale?" Aragorn asked, the frown on his face deepening.

"Yes," Erelas nodded seriously. "It is a human town to the north, right next to the Lonely Mountain. Bard is king there, I believe."

For a moment, the man wasn't sure if the elf was joking or not – something particularly hard to determine with Erelas who hardly allowed his emotions to show on his face – but then he decided that no-one could not have heard of their journey to Dale a few weeks ago. Everyone knew that he and Legolas knew perfectly well where Dale was – and were unlikely to ever forget it.

"You forgot to mention that the Celduin has its source there," he offered with a wry smile as he began to unwrap the parcel.

For a moment he wondered if King Bard had finally decided to send him a note forbidding him ever to enter his realm again, something that wouldn't have surprised the ranger at all. But then again, he reasoned, a simple letter would have sufficed to inform him of that, and somehow he didn't believe that the regal king of Dale would send him such a package. It was rather large and soft and wrapped in rough, tanned leather that was secured with coarse rope. No, this did not look like something from Dale at all, rather like something…

The leather fell off, and Aragorn stared at the contents of the parcel. It looked like a … fur, a large brown fur that was thick and fluffy and familiar. Disconcertingly familiar. He stared at it for a few moments, not really able to understand why someone would send him a fur, when the elf bent down and took up something that had fallen down when he had dropped the leather to the ground.

Silently Aragorn accepted the letter Erelas offered him, and when he unfolded the piece of parchment that was covered with dwarven runes, he began to smile widely, the pieces suddenly falling into place and beginning to make sense. The message was merely a few lines long, and even though Aragorn was not truly fluent in the reading this particular script, he understood the runes' meaning well enough.

He began to chuckle softly and, without thinking, handed the note to the elf next to him before turning his attention back to the fur. It was a bear's skin, carefully prepared, and when one knew where to look, one could even see the slashes that marred it – slashes he had put there himself.

Aragorn's smile widened. Of course he knew this fur, for he had killed the bear which it had belonged to himself. Granted, it hadn't been his choice – one thing he had learned from his brothers long ago was to never hunt a bear on your own – and the beast had nearly killed him in return, but there had been nothing else he could have done. It was in fact not something he enjoyed remembering, especially not the darkness and narrowness of the cave he associated with this particular memory, but, somehow, it was made easier by seeing this fur.

Next to him, Erelas was eyeing the piece of parchment he held with a mixture of loathing, curiosity and disbelief. While Aragorn was examining the fur further, spreading it out on his bed, the elf examined the note, looking at it as if it was the carrier of a mysterious, contagious disease.

"It is from … from the Dwarves," he finally said, turning unbelieving eyes on the ranger. "I think you should burn the fur; you never know where it has been before now."

"What?" Aragorn blinked slowly and turned to look at the elf. "Burn it? Why should I? It is perfectly alright, besides, it has some sentimental value for me and the prince as well. Kind Dáin was most kind to send it here."

There is was again, the man thought wryly, the dubiously arched eyebrow.

"If you say so, Strider," Erelas said, his eyes returning to the message. "What does this say? Is it truly a fount?"

"Yes, Master Elf," Aragorn assured him, biting back a large grin. "It is. And, essentially, it says that they thought I would like their little gift and reminds me to eat a lot of red meat and to finally accept that elves are arrogant creatures and that visiting Durin's Folk is both more amusing and more conducive to my mental health."

The elf's eyes widened in outrage, all his former reserve gone in an instant.
"Red meat? Arrogant??"

"I am sure they didn't mean it quite like that," Aragorn was quick to add. "Master Frór, the one who sent the message, is sometimes a little quick with his words and speaks a little hastily."

"As do all of their kind," Erelas muttered darkly. "Nothing but stunted, presumptuous, irritating little cave-dwellers, the whole lot of them."

Aragorn decided to ignore the comment, knowing that there was nothing he could say to change the other's mind. Silvan Elves were not exactly known for their open-mindedness, and the fact that Erelas spoke to him as an equal was already not entirely usual for one of his kind. It wasn't that all of Mirkwood's residents looked upon him with distrust and disdain of course, probably thanks to his ties to the Lord of Rivendell and his family, even though there were definitely some who did. No, but most of the elves were clearly not used to talking to mortals of any sort, and were always treating him as if he were a child or some sort of less intelligent creature. The young ranger was rather sure that they didn't act like that out of malice or contempt; they simply did not know how else to treat him. Still, it was beginning to get on his nerves, especially when he was alone as he was now.

The dark haired elf seemed to sense that his last comment had unsettled the man, and so he added carefully, obviously unhappy about his own words,

"Yet I am sure that your … friend," Erelas was unable to mask the suspicion and disbelief in his voice, "is not as bad as the others. His comments sound even rather … rational. For a dwarf, that is."

Aragorn had to hide a small smile at the other's words. He knew what it had cost the elf to say something like this, and he appreciated Erelas' attempt not to hurt his feelings by insulting any of his friends, even if they were dwarves.
"Very diplomatic, Master Erelas. Those were the most courteous words I have heard in these halls about any dwarf for a long time."

The elf shrugged, giving Aragorn a slight grin.
"My father is one of the king's envoys and leaves for diplomatic missions very often. I have long since learnt to … well, to sugar-coat certain facts, even if I do totally not agree with what I say."

"And you became a warrior?" the ranger asked. "Was your father very pleased about that?"

"Not really," Erelas admitted with another small grin. "However, I thought it a slightly more … honest occupation, and besides, I have found out many years ago that it is very hard to please your father completely, no matter what you do."

Aragorn nodded his head in agreement and stood to his feet, the now folded fur under his arm, when his guest rose to leave. How hard it was to believe that this was all that was left of the creature that had nearly taken his life not even two months ago, but in some ways, it really was something of a relief to see the bear's skin. Somehow, it was easier to deal with the claustrophobic memories that still overcame him from time to time when he had such a visual reminder of what he had already overcome.

"You are right, Master Elf; that is my experience as well," he smiled at the other, walking him over to the door.

Erelas returned the smile and was just about to say something, one hand already on the doors' handles, when a sudden commotion could be heard outside. Even through the thick dark wood that separated them from the corridor loud shouting could be heard as well as questions that were never answered, and many running feet that were heading into the direction of the nearest staircase.

Aragorn swallowed hard, his heart doing a somersault in his chest. These were the Halls of Mirkwood, home of King Thranduil who didn't enjoy things as commotions in the slightest. If the regal and proud Wood-elves behaved like this, it could only mean that…

Elf and man looked at each other, the same fear reflected in bright blue and silver eyes, and without a word the doors were pushed open as both of them left the room and joined the multitude of elves that were already moving into the direction of the courtyard, the direction from where most of the unrest seemed to originate.

The bear's fur fell to the ground, instantly forgotten by its owner as the shouts of disbelief and horror grew louder and the Palace of Mirkwood was thrown into such a chaos as it had not seen for a long, long time.




Legolas couldn't believe how much had changed in the past few hours; his mind was truly having problems grasping what had happened since he had met with Anardir and Galalith.

It was really quite amazing, he thought darkly, one moment he was talking to his friends, the next he was here, wherever here was exactly. He had of course paid attention to the route they had taken, but it was really quite hard to make out landmarks and things like that in the snowstorm that was still raging, and so all the elf could say for sure was that they had were somewhere to the south of where he had been taken. They were still rather close to the forest's edge, but not close enough so they would reach it this night, not at the pace they were travelling in at the moment at least.

The horse he was sitting on – or, to be more precise, had been put on, as he had to admit to his shame – stumbled yet again, making Legolas wish for his own horse now more than ever before. With Rashwe he might even have a chance of escape or would at least have the satisfaction of watching the men cringe under the animal's glares, but how this mare had previously carried anything heavier than an elf was truly beyond his understanding.

The elven prince shook his head minutely and returned his full attention to his surroundings, all the while trying to loosen the bonds that secured his hands behind his back, even though he already knew that it was futile. He had been bound often enough in his life – far too often now that he thought about it – to know when the person who had bound him had known what he was doing, and the man who had tied these knots had very obviously known it perfectly well. The ropes hadn't moved even an inch since he had started to work on them some hours ago, and they didn't give the appearance of doing so in the near future either.

Legolas turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes having no trouble piercing the darkness that had fallen some time ago. He was truly surrounded like a caught warg, a comparison that would most probably have amused him under any other circumstances. He was riding in the middle of the men's troupe, with two guards to his right and two guards to his left. The humans were either afraid of him or clever enough not to give him the slightest chance to escape, and if he thought of the man who was in command, he had to admit that probably the latter was the case.

The fair haired elf kept his eyes fixed on the back of the man who rode in front of him, all his other senses alert and poised to escape. Since they had left the small clearing several hours ago, not one of the men had spoken to him or spoken at all, something that both pleased and unsettled the elf. It pleased him since he really was not in the mood to listen to these men's mindless talk, but he had learned in the years he had already lived that most humans loved to gloat and boast – it even appeared to be in their nature – and the fact that these ones seemed to feel no inclination to do either was not a good sign. They were behaving like professionals, as if they knew perfectly well what they were doing, and that made them a lot more dangerous than your average group of human poachers or highwaymen.

These thoughts brought Legolas back to the question that had never been far from his mind in the past few hours: What in the name of all the Valar wanted these humans from him? Why had they attacked them? Did they know who he was? Was this a kidnapping, a way to force his father into making some sort of concession?

Legolas bit back a low growl of annoyance. He simply did not know, and if these humans were going to remain as silent as they were now, he wouldn't find out either. The only thing he knew was that these people had wanted him – or another elf for that matter – and had wanted him very badly. No-one travelled into Mirkwood, attacked one of the elven patrols, incurred the Elvenking's wrath and then even captured an elf just for the fun of it. These men had to be either desperate or stupid, and yet they seemed to be neither. From the way the human captain had behaved, Reran, yes, that was his name, he could have sworn that he wasn't the sort of person who acted out of desperation. Reran appeared to know exactly what he was doing, and if Legolas had to voice his feelings, he would say that he was obeying orders – which put this whole thing onto an entirely new level, of course…

The elven prince forced his thoughts off that topic which wouldn't get him anywhere without more information to work with, and before he could stop himself, his mind had jumped to another topic, namely the welfare of the two elves he had sent away.

Legolas bit down on his lip, still trying to pay attention to his surroundings and finding it increasingly difficult as the emotional turmoil in his heart increased. Both of them had been injured when he had last seen them, as had been Rashwe, and he was beginning to see that Reran had been right when he had said that the two of them wouldn't make it to the next patrol in time to get help. He didn't know how badly Anardir had been hurt, but one hadn't needed to be a healer to see that Galalith's injury had been a very bad one.

The elf bit down harder on his lip, doing his best to keep the emotions that warred in his chest off his face; the last thing he needed now was that his mysterious captors saw how he was truly feeling. Why had Galalith done it? Why had he pushed him out of the way and taken the arrow that had been meant for him?

Before Legolas had even finished that thought, a small voice in his head answered the question he had asked himself: Because it had been his duty. It had been his duty because he was the other elf's superior and his prince, and that thought was enough to make Legolas feel sick.

He knew of course that people protected him and treated him differently because he was his father's son and the heir to the throne of Mirkwood, one only had to take a look at Celylith. He also knew that every time he had gone into battle with the warriors of his father – especially when he had been younger and less experienced – he had been surrounded by the most experienced captains of the guard, captains that had the explicit orders to do anything in their power to make sure that he survived and were willing to follow them, too.

Still, it was different in battle than it was in a situation like this. In battle you hardly had the time to notice the identity of the one who had just killed the orc who had been trying to sneak up on you from behind or something of that sort, let alone thank him properly, yet this time it was all different. Galalith had not only helped him or saved him from death or injury, he had consciously put his life above his own and had – perhaps – given his life so that he may live…

Legolas' mind shied away from the thoughts as if they were scalding hot. No, Galalith would not die, and neither would Anardir – or Rashwe, for that matter. The two of them would get back to the palace, and Hithrawyn would make sure they survived so he could thank them and especially Galalith for what they had done once he got himself out of this mess.

And, by the Valar, he would get out of this mess and would teach these arrogant humans just what happened when one attacked Mirkwood's warriors.

He concentrated on the thoughts of what he would do to these people when he finally got free, and just when he had thought of the thirteenth possibility to kill them, this one eliciting a rather dark grin, the men in front of him stopped, causing his animal to halt as well.

Legolas looked up, straining his eyesight to discern the reason for the sudden halt. First he could see nothing much in the darkness through the still heavily falling snow, but when he concentrated harder he saw that they had reached a small clearing, small enough not to be easily seen but large enough for a group of twenty-two people and their horses, if they were more on the skinny side, that was.

Another dark, this time definitely satisfied grin spread on the elf's face. Indeed, there were twenty-one men with him, and he was seriously expecting two of them not to see the coming day. He had killed seven men earlier today, and while he would have felt guilty under any other circumstances for killing even one of the Second People, he only had to think of Galalith's pale, unconscious face and the arrow he had taken for him for that feeling to die in his chest as if it had never existed. These men deserved what they had got, every single one of them.

Around them, the humans were already dismounting and beginning to lead their horses to the one side of the glade, yet his guards didn't move an inch. Legolas sighed inwardly. The more he saw of these people, the more he came to accept that he was dealing with professionals, a fact that had quite a few of decidedly uncomfortable side-effects.

Most humans had already disappeared, and Legolas was already beginning to wonder if his captors intended to let him stay here in this spot, on horseback – something that would give him most probably less trouble than his guards – when a man stepped out of the swirling snow masses that had hidden him until he had been less than fifteen feet away.

Legolas clenched his jaw and tried not to betray any emotion at all. It was that … that man he could have killed earlier, closely followed by another, who, for a split second, reminded the elf eerily of Aragorn. It took him only a few moments to realise that the human was too broadly built and too small to be his human friend (who, Ilúvatar willing, was still safely back at the palace), but on first glance he looked much like him. No, Legolas thought, the other's skin was a little too dark, his hair was too black and his eyes were more of a dark blue than grey. Besides, he had never before seen Aragorn wear such a dark, smug grimace, not even when he was truly irritated with him or his elven brothers.

Teonvan stopped in front of the elf's horse and eyed his captive with a grin and a rather disconcerting gleam in his eyes which the fair haired being either missed or ignored superiorly. The blonde elf seemed to stare right through him as if he was nothing more than an insect that didn't deserve his attention, something that filled the man with both anticipation and blazing fury. He really would need to teach this one a lesson…

"You really are a tad arrogant, aren't you, elf?" he asked in a friendly tone of voice, as if they were old acquaintances who were having a nice little chat. "You really think you're better than we, do you?"

The elf cocked his head to the side, eyeing the dark haired man with a mildly interested expression on his face and at the same time displaying the blossoming bruises that covered both cheeks. He studied the men that stood in front of him for a moment, before obviously dismissing them as unimportant and redirecting his attention to the tree that was standing to the right of them.

For a moment, Cendan who was standing right behind his superior didn't know whether he should be hiding a grin or feel indignation. The fact that the elf had dismissed them just like that didn't sit well with him at all, but then again, he had looked at Teonvan, not at him. Everyone who dismissed Teonvan could be sure of at least a bit of his sympathy.

Apparently, Teonvan was having no such problems and solved the question of how he should feel about the elf's actions in matter of seconds. Before Cendan had even fully realised what was happening, the dark haired man had stepped closer to the horse that was still being flanked right and left by two riders and had grabbed one of the elf's bound arms. The captive didn't offer any resistance when the man dragged him down from the animal, knowing full well that he would only end up face first in the snow if he did.

A second later, Teonvan was staring at the fair haired elf's face who could have been relaxing next to a brightly burning fire with his friends and family, so calm and composed were his face and stature. The man grabbed the elven prince's arm more tightly, glaring at him with bright eyes that were gleaming with a decidedly unhealthy-looking fire as his fingers burrowed into the cut another man's knife had left there.
"Was there anything you wanted to say, elf?"

Legolas shortly contemplated if he could make his situation any worse by answering, and, studying the man's dark, cold eyes, came to the quick decision that yes, there were many ways in which he could make his situation worse right now. But still, he wouldn't let this human think he had frightened him in any way.

"Many things, human," he replied in a low, dark voice. "Most of which I would gladly demonstrate to you if you would cut me loose and give me back my weapons. Or," he added with a short, taxing look at Teonvan, "if you would just cut me loose. That should do."

This time, Cendan didn't have to ponder whether he should be hiding a grin or not. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, at the same time glaring at the other four men who were beginning to grin as well. He could understand their feelings of course, Teonvan was popular with no-one here except his own lieutenants, but he didn't condone open disrespect either. The men quickly lowered their heads and began to lead their horses off into the direction of the other animals, careful not to show the amusement on their faces.

Teonvan, however, didn't appear to be amused at all. Legolas watched the dark haired man's face with detached interest, noticing with faint amusement how its colour turned a dark red in a matter of seconds. While the elf was still contemplating whether the colour would reach a dark purple or the human commander would suffer a stroke first – to be perfectly honest, he was hoping for the latter – the man had drawn a short, thoroughly evil-looking knife and brought it uncomfortable close to his captive's face.

"You should learn one thing very quickly, elf," he hissed, working obviously very hard to regain some semblance of composure. "No-one speaks to me in this matter. No-one. If you don't get that idea soon, things will get a lot more unpleasant for you than they are now. Understood?"

The fair haired elf didn't even give the knife that was moving rather close to his neck a single glance, his eyes fixed on the face of the man in front of him. He knew it wasn't an intelligent thing to antagonise this human, but his pride forbade him to comply with his orders. Legolas bit down on his bottom lip, trying not to let too much of the loathing he already felt for this man show on his face. He would not do what this man wanted from him, and even if it was something as trivial as answering a question!

Teonvan's face adopted an even more interesting colour, this time a shade somewhere between scarlet and black-blue (Legolas hadn't known that a human's face could even turn such a colour without lasting brain damage) and the hand that was holding the knife was beginning to tremble slightly and move even closer to the prince's neck, when a short, exasperated-sounding cough could be heard behind them.

Startled, the dark haired commander turned, spinning Legolas around with him, to lock eyes with Cendan who was just unsuccessfully hiding a long-suffering frown. The lieutenant stared at the other man, his eyes void of expression and his face carefully neutral.
"Captain Reran is waiting, sir," he said. "Our orders stated explicitly that…"

"I know what our orders are, Lieutenant," Teonvan snapped and glowered at the man who simply looked back at him, apparently not very much impressed.

He returned the knife to its sheath, looking quite unhappy and dissatisfied though, and gave his elven prisoner a last, dark glare which the elf returned just as darkly before giving Cendan a curt nod.
"Alright, boy. Lead the way then."

Cendan returned the nod, the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth, and with a jerky movement that spoke of suppressed anger he turned around and disappeared in the swirling snow masses. Teonvan followed him, his hand gripping Legolas' arm tightly, still shadowed left and right by two of the men who were to remain his guards for the rest of the evening.

After a few more seconds they reached the middle of the clearing, and Legolas realised to his disappointment that the men intended to keep him exactly here for the rest of the evening. He suppressed a tired sigh. So much for his plan to get away from these people as soon as everybody but the guards had gone to sleep; apparently they were indeed much more intelligent than he would have liked. But then again, he added with an inner, dark grin, they had ambushed him and his men, they couldn't be that intelligent.

The dark haired man who was still holding onto his arm with enough force to nearly make it splinter into tiny little pieces pushed him forward, making Legolas clench his teeth again. He did not enjoy being pushed around by random people, and yet exactly that was what had been happening to him in the past few years almost non-stop. Coincidently, it had almost exactly been since the time he had first met Aragorn…

Before he could follow that train of thought any further, they stopped, Legolas who stood on top of the snow being in stark contrast to the men who were almost to their knees buried in loose, white snow, and the elf looked up to see the men's captain walk up to them, an expression on his face that was unreadable.

Reran stopped in front of their prisoner, giving Teonvan who was still gripping the elf's arm rather unnecessarily tightly a barely masked look of disgust.
"So, Master Elf, are we feeling a bit more reasonable now?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes and shortly thought about telling the man just how reasonable he was feeling, but quickly decided against it. He was still not that apt at judging humans' characters, but if he had learned one thing it was that this was not a man to be trifled with.
"Why did you attack us, human? What do you want from me?" he retorted, fixing steely eyes on the man.

Reran ignored Legolas' question just as the elf had ignored his, running a calloused hand through his hair to get rid of the snow that coated it a ghostly white.
"For now, only your co-operation," he answered, giving his second-in-command a hard look. "We have a long journey ahead of us, a journey which can get rather unpleasant for all of us if you insist on making a fuss. But one thing you should remain aware of, elf, and that is that in that case things will get much more unpleasant for you than they could ever get for us."

Legolas' eyes narrowed even more and his body stiffened slightly, causing Teonvan to grip him even more tightly. The elven prince ignored the ever-growing pain in his injured arm and looked darkly at the human captain.
"Who are you to threaten me in the realm of my people? The king will hear about this, and none of you will escape his wrath that will descend on you for attacking one of his patrols, that I promise you!"

Reran almost rolled his eyes again, a rather undignified habit he was beginning to adapt to his mild alarm.
"Your king will not find you, elf, if he starts looking for you in the first place. And if he should and finds you in the end, he will have much more pressing problems than killing me or my men, trust me."

Legolas simply looked at him with dark, angry eyes, and Reran gave a short sigh, shrugging slightly.
"Very well then, have it your way, elf. But I'd advise you not to try and escape; I can get quite unreasonable if the need arises."

The prince bit back a sarcastic remark that would even have made one of the twins proud and merely continued giving the human a fairly decent version of Lord Elrond's look, seeing to his satisfaction that Reran averted his eyes to give the other man who had reminded him of Aragorn only a few moments ago a dark look of his own. Not bad, he decided inwardly, but not nearly as nice as the look.

"You are responsible for him, Cendan," Reran informed the man curtly. "If there are any problems, any at all," he stressed with a pointed look at Teonvan, "I want to be informed immediately. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," the younger man nodded obediently.

"Good," Reran replied. "The same rules as yesterday apply. The first man to disobey them will be remaining here – permanently – as a little something for his," he jerked his head into his prisoner's direction, "friends when they finally think of coming this way. I hope I have made myself clear."

"Yes, sir," Cendan repeated himself. "I doubt anyone will forget it."

"Oh," Reran grumbled, turning around to give his second-in-command a friendly, absolutely forced smile, "It happens. Sometimes there are indeed some … misunderstandings, and that is the exact reason why Commander Teonvan and I need to have a word. You are in charge until we return."

With a short nod into Cendan's direction he took a step closer to Teonvan, who unwillingly let go of Legolas' arm, making the elf suppress a sigh of relief. Reran waited impatiently for the other man to precede him, and in a matter of seconds the two of them were disappearing between the snow-covered trees, quickly hidden by the swirling curtain of white flakes that were still floating ceaselessly to the ground.

Cendan's blue-grey eyes followed the two figures, who was, for a moment, entertaining the truly attractive vision of Teonvan not returning at all, before he shook his head and turned to face the fair haired elf. The blonde being merely looked at him with an expression of mild annoyance, as if this whole situation was nothing but a slight inconvenience for him, and Cendan felt how his temper flared up. The man took a step forward and grabbed the captive by his arm, pushing him forward with enough force to throw him hard onto the ground.

"You will stay here," he told the elf and ignored his dark, positively burning look. "If you don't try to escape we won't have any trouble at all this night – otherwise, I might inform Commander Teonvan so the two of you can finish your little discussion. Understood?"

The elf's eyes never left Cendan's face as he sat up a little, seeming totally unperturbed by the cold snow he was sitting on.
"It seems to me that that would be something you and your men would lament more than I would, Cendan. In fact, I am rather sure about it."

The dark haired man's eyes narrowed and he leaned a little closer, studying the elf's mocking, bruised face intently. Had he really shown his disgust for the other man so openly or had it been something only the prisoner's sharp eyes had seen?
"You see much, elf; perhaps a little too much. I would hold my tongue if I were you, or you might find out that too much knowledge can lead to a sudden, painful death. Accidents can happen even to those our lord wants alive."

Cendan turned abruptly with a curt order to the two men who were still standing behind Legolas, silent as shadows and just as emotionless. The two of them drew a little closer to their prisoner as their superior walked away, careful to keep him in plain sight as they sat down on two large, snow-covered stones a few feet away from him. The other men kept a slight distance from them but still drew a tight circle around them, limiting Legolas' chances of escape even further.

Some time later Reran and Teonvan returned, the latter appearing both subdued and angry, and soon after that the camp became quiet as the men tried to find some rest as best as they could in the cold, wet snow. Legolas kept watching them and especially his two guards and the other one that was posted close to the horses, but had to admit to himself some hours after midnight that it was hopeless. The men were indeed professionals and showed no sign of tiring or letting down their guard. And even if they did, he reasoned darkly, he would still have to get past all the other men, past the guard next to the horses and to a horse, not to mention out of the camp.

Sighing inwardly, the elven prince leaned back a bit as he tried to find a comfortable position, something that soon proved nearly impossible with his hands bound behind his back and his body throbbing and aching from the fight and the blows he had received at Teonvan's hands. For a moment, he was greatly reminded of a similar situation, not too far away on the slopes of the Lonely Mountains not too long ago. But no, he thought with a certain sense of relief, this time it was much better. He didn't have Aragorn with him, and wasn't forced to watch or listen as his young friend was hurt…

Legolas' thoughts quickly left that topic for it only reminded him of things he rather wished to forget, not to mention of Anardir and Galalith, who had been hurt when he had last seen them, and before he could think of something unpleasant – such as that he was the captive of some unknown humans, two of which already wanted to kill him slowly and painfully for all the knew – he thought about what he had learned since his small and rather unproductive talk with the humans' captain.

Essentially, he decided, it were three things. First, that the men wanted to bring him somewhere far from here, to their lord. That, he thought wryly, didn't help him much since he had already guessed as much from their earlier behaviour. Second, that they needed him alive, which was equally as unsurprising, but reassuring nonetheless. Third, and that was the biggest discovery yet, that they didn't know who he was. If they had known that he was the king's son they would never have suggested that his father would not come looking for him. It was a fact that greatly pleased him. He didn't really know how the men or their lord would react if they found out that he was the Prince of Mirkwood, but to be perfectly honest, he didn't really want to find out either.

Other than these facts, he had also found out that neither Reran nor the younger man, Cendan, liked Teonvan; that was something that might be useful later. He would certainly remember it, even though he doubted that these people would let such petty animosities affect their professional behaviour.

Oh, he thought sarcastically a second later, there was also the fact that Aragorn had apparently rubbed off on him. He didn't seem to possess the ability to remain silent when it counted anymore, but then again, Celylith had always claimed that he had never possessed it in the first place…

The elf directed his gaze to the starless heavens, doing his best to suppress the fear and apprehension he felt. He really hoped one of the other patrols had found Anardir and Galalith and had made sure that both of them got back to the palace, and when he was perfectly honest he wouldn't even mind some help himself right now.

Legolas consciously relaxed his body and let his mind release its hold of these troublesome thoughts. Just as he forced himself to drift off into a light, dreamlike state, a dark voice inside his head telling him that he would need all the strength he could get during these next few days, he smiled slightly when a sudden thought struck him.

He pitied his father who would have to convince Aragorn to stay in the palace and not ride out to look for him in the dead of night as he would want to, reckless human that he was.




The courtyard of Mirkwood's palace was in such a state as it hadn't been in for many years, and Aragorn had honestly never believed to see something like this here.

An objective observer would have described it as chaos, and that was something that scared the young ranger even more than the various rumours that had begun to spread, one of them worse and more unlikely than the last. When Aragorn finally managed to push his way through the elves that were crowding outside, he got there just in time to see some elves disappear into the other direction – into the direction of the healing wing.

The dark green robe of one of them caught his attention, and when the elf disappeared inside, his golden hair quickly hidden by the mass of anxious elves that were still filling most of the courtyard, Aragorn realised who it was: Thranduil.

A sinking, horrible feeling began to spread in his stomach. What was the king doing here? It wasn't the Elvenking's usual behaviour to greet someone in the courtyard, that was what the audience chambers were for after all, and the fact that he had come here in a matter of seconds and was already on his way to the healing wing with several other elves could only mean that…

The young ranger's eyes travelled quickly about the whispering elves around him to come to rest on some horses that seemed to be on the brink of exhaustion. He looked a little closer and felt how his heart fell straight into his stomach when he realised that there was a white, slightly gleaming horse among them he knew only too well: Rashwe. The animal was looking dejected and sad, and there was a broad strip of a dark, crusted substance on one of its hind legs.

He hadn't thought it possible, but the fear and anxiety in his heart even intensified, their icy tendrils spreading inside his chest and threatening to cut off his breathing. Blood. That was blood. Blood on Legolas' horse.

Aragorn took a deep breath, automatically fighting against the tickling sensation in his lungs that would need some more days to disappear entirely, and with a few, quick steps he was next to the elf who was holding Rashwe's reins, apparently at a loss what to do. The young man reached out and grabbed the elf's shoulder, turning him around so he could see his face.

"What happened? Where is the prince?"

The elf merely looked at him with empty, shocked eyes, not really noticing that the man was still gripping his shoulder. Under normal circumstances the Firstborn didn't enjoy being touched by strangers, the Silvan Elves even more so than others, but this elven warrior was apparently far beyond such trivialities.

"We don't know," he shook his head, confusion plain to see on his fair face. "He's not here. We don't know anything. They took Anardir to the healers and Galalith…"

"What?" Aragorn asked impatiently when the elf trailed off. "What about Galalith?"

The young elf lowered his eyes and merely shook his head, but that simple gesture hit the human like a blow to the stomach.
"Dead? He is ... dead?" he whispered unbelievingly. "But how … where …"

The other refused to meet the ranger's eyes again, his voice soft and emotionless as his body shook with suppressed grief.
"Commander Anondil can answer your questions, Strider. He went with the king and the others to the healing wing. I know nothing more."

A cold shiver raced across Aragorn's back as he looked at the pale, drawn face of the elf in front of him. He gave him a slight nod that the other probably didn't even notice and released his shoulder, beginning to push through the elves that had amassed in the courtyard. Some senior commanders of the guard and some of the king's advisors had already begun to disperse the crowd that slowly and reluctantly began to drift apart, and when Aragorn reached the top of the stairs that led back into the palace a few moments later, most of the elves were already heading back to where they had come from, and the horses were being led away into the direction of the stables.

The man reached the open doors and turned sharply to the left, hurrying down the corridor he knew only too well. No matter how much he tried to calm his breathing and his wildly beating heart he felt how his anxiety grew and reached new, improbably high levels, and he couldn't even begin to process all the thoughts and questions that flittered through his head. What in the name of the One had happened out there? As far as he knew Galalith and Anardir had left the palace some days ago to join a patrol, somewhere to the south…

What was left of his composure promptly disintegrated when he realised the meaning of what he had just thought. Anardir and Galalith had been part of a patrol to the south. Legolas had left the palace early this morning to check on the patrols to the south. And now Galalith was dead…

Grief wrapped itself around his heart and mingled with the terror he was beginning to feel. Galalith who had reminded him so much of his brothers was dead, and he would never be able to teach him how to pitch a tent as he had promised. A bit of shock flittered through him when he thought about what the dark haired elf's death would do to Anardir. He didn't believe that the blonde elf would be able to bear it, and to think that not only one but two elves would leave this world forever when there were already so few left… He shook his head in denial. By Elbereth, he had told Legolas that this wasn't a good idea, hadn't he? He had told him to be careful, he should have gone with him instead on staying and letting Hithrawyn have his way…

By the time he had reached the healing wing, his thoughts and feelings were in turmoil, and on that fact he would later blamed his behaviour when faced with a pair of stern elven warriors. The two of them were posted in front of the great wooden doors that led to Hithrawyn's sanctuary, and both were less than inclined to let him pass.

"You cannot go in, dúnadan," the right one told him, his voice not unkind, but enough force hidden in it to make his intentions clear not to let anyone open these doors.

Aragorn blinked in mild surprise, not really having realised that two elves were standing in front of him in his rather preoccupied state of mind.
"I do not have time for this," he said after a moment and shook his head unwillingly. "Let me pass."

Neither of the two made a move to comply, and the guard to the left gave him a thin smile of sympathy.
"I know how you feel, Estel, but we cannot. No-one is allowed to enter by order of the king."

The man narrowed his eyes, and the elf had to avoid the fierce silver glare full of fear and anger that threatened to burn right through his own eyes into his very soul.

"You do not know how I feel," Aragorn protested in a low voice and took a slow step forward. Guilt flickered quickly over his face and was hidden just as quickly as it had come. "You have no idea," he emphasised. "And now I would advise you to step aside. I am not in the mood for games like these and I would hate to provoke an incident between the Realm of Mirkwood and that of Rivendell, or between the Wood-elves and the Dúnedain of the North. I may not know what is happening here, but I know some things, and one of them is that I will pass these doors, whether you allow me to or not."

The guard who had spoken last eyed the man with barely hidden surprise. Strider's grey eyes seemingly bore into his heart, hard and dark with the promise of fulfilling his threat, no matter the consequences. All of the sudden the elf didn't see the man's worn, grey coat or his youthful features but the statue of one of the mighty king of old; proud and stern men he had last seen many an age ago with eyes that were bright as stars and old as those of an elf. Then that impression was gone like sand blown away with the wind, and the guard found himself stepping to the side to let the ranger pass. A smile lit the human's face that turned him back into the young man who had hardly outgrown childhood, and with a grateful nod at both elves he hurried past them, opened the doors and soundlessly slipped inside, leaving the two of them to ponder what exactly had just happened.

Aragorn quickly walked through the healing wing, his thoughts already far away from the brief encounter with the guards. One or two of the younger healers and assistants obviously thought about stopping him and demanding that he leave at once, but just one look at the man's face convinced them otherwise. The ranger stopped at a she-elf's side to ask where the king and the others were, and she merely pointed into the direction of one of the greater chambers to the right of them.

The man nodded his thanks and quickly made his way over to the partly opened doors, pushing them open after a second's hesitation. The room's occupants looked up when he entered, and yet none spoke or moved or ordered him to leave again, not that he would have anyway. It would have taken armed guards to remove him from this room now.

Aragorn's eyes quickly travelled across the room, being inexplicably drawn to the unmoving, still object that lay on one of the beds in the corner, covered with a white sheet. A second later he realised what that object was, and he felt how his heart clenched with grief and pain and he quickly forced himself to tear his eyes off the dead elf's body. Next to Galalith's body stood an elf Aragorn did not know, probably Anondil, who looked angry, heart-broken and confused all at the same time. Hithrawyn and two junior healers hovered over another still form on one of the other beds, all of them working frantically, and when one of them shifted slightly to the side, Aragorn could see that it was Anardir who had suffered at least two major wounds from what little he could see.

His gaze shifted to the last group, and his eyes widened slightly when he looked at King Thranduil, Lord Celythramir and two other high-ranking advisors. The Elvenking turned slightly to look at him, apparently not at all surprised by his sudden appearance, and Aragorn had to take only one look at the elf's blue eyes that were so much like Legolas' to know that the news they had were very bad news indeed.





TBC...





Yestarë - 'First-day', the first day of the year. The equivalent of Men's Winter Solstice (celebrated on the (modern) 22nd of December); according to the Reckoning of Rivendell it fell on the (modern) 7th of April
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger




*shakes head* Poor everyone, I think that sums it up nicely. They're all very poor elves/rangers/baddies/horses/Valar-know-what. Oh, and please note that no horses were hurt in the process of writing this fic. My sister insisted that I put that in here, so I am. Never antagonise your little sister, believe me - they can be vicious... *g* Okay, so the next chapter should be here on Saturday, I think, with more Elf Angst, Ranger Angst, well, general Angst, I guess. *evil grin* As always, reviews are greatly appreciated and encourage me. So: Review? Please?

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Additional A/N:

LegolasLover2004 - Uhm, well, that was a straightforward request, I guess. *g* Let's just say that I am not disinclined to acquiesce your request. Ah, I love that movie. *g* So: I might, a little bit later though, sorry. A little bit more patience, alright? Thanks for the review!
Deana - Yes, I know it was sad, and I'm really sorry. Ever since I started writing him I knew I would have to kill him eventually, and I still cried in the end when he did die. *shakes head* What does that say about me? *g*
Amelie - Yup, he's very good at that. Making enemies, I mean. *evil grin* *ignores her sledgehammer* What will come to pass, will come to pass, that's all I'm going to say. You'll have to wait and see, I'm afraid... *g* I don't know yet how long the story is going to be, honestly, but I think at least 25 chapters. I don't think it will be significantly less. *grimaces* I was hoping to do 20 or 22, but I don't think so anymore. And I don't know about the sequel, that depends on whether I get a good idea for another story in the next few weeks. We'll see. Thanks a lot for the box, and I hope you had a great birthday and Christmas!
TrinityTheSheDevil - I will never understand FF.net. Never. Not even if I manage to live a hundred years. *g* It's weird and evil, that's what it is. And: Ouch! Stop whacking me! I'm only doing my job here! I didn't want to kill him, but I had to! I had no choice! Well, yes, I had a choice, but still. *evil grin* Uhm, and you think just because you wrote 'Trin's Elf' on his forehead that's going to protect him? Think again, mate... *g* Thank you, even if my holidays were filled with a cold from hell, but ah well. It was still fun. *g*
Aratfeniel - *shrugs* I truly will never understand how this website works. It's just FF.net, and normal rules or logic doesn't apply. *g* Hmm, good question though. I don't know if Reran will ever find out who Legolas really is, I doubt it though. Not until the very end, that much is sure. Well, I hope you got the soundtrack and all the other things you wanted! *huggles* Thanks for reviewing!
Red Tigress - LOL, my thoughts exactly! He ALWAYS states the obvious, it's really, really beginning to annoy me. *g* Uhm, well, that club of yours sounds rather interesting. And you're right, there are far too many Elf Protection Societies out there - it's their own fault after all! They _want_ to be hurt - why else would they be so adorable? *nods* See? They want it.
Gwyn - Nope, it wasn't Celylith who died, right. Hold on to that thought... *g* You have a Horde of Painful Medieval Torture and Slow Murder Devices? That's worrisome ... really worrisome... *g* And well, I don't know what you're thinking, about why so many of Teonvan's captives committed suicide, but let's just say that I didn't want to go into further detail since this is PG-13 after all. It will remain PG-13 as well, don't worry. Besides, I could never write such things... *shudders* No.
Dha-Gal - Well, you just don't get Skittles here, at least not the green ones. They only sell purple Skittles here, and not even everywhere. It's very sad, I know. *g* And I'm planning to go into politics and pass a law that orders every supermarket to sell green Skittles. I don't know how exactly I am going to do that yet, but somehow I will, trust me. *g* How did you break your wrist? I really hope it doesn't hurt too much! *huggles*
Firnsarnien - Uhm ... sorry? I can see that you a slightly upset, and I understand you of course, but ... I had to? My alter ego made me do it? And alien entity? My sister? Her horse? My new dictionary? No? *sighs* Alright, I was being evil - and I really think you should put down that bazooka. They tend to punch nasty holes into walls - or people, for that matter... LOL, and yes, I know abou the red shirts. I guess Galalith was an ensign. *g* 'He's dead, Jim...' Oh, and of course Teonvan has a hobby! Uhm, it's ... collecting ... stamps? Yeah, right, that's it... *g* And, once again, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Really. *seriously*
E - Oh, I understand. Really. I don't have time to review much anymore either, it's horrible. And I agree, I think the Ext. Version of RotK will make it a good movie. It's just like the Ext. Version of TTT, I even like Faramir a little more now. A tiny bit, mind you, but still. And of coure books and movies exist side by side, but this time I found it really hard to recognise the book in the movie. Sad. *shakes head* LOL, so you and your cat hate me? Please don't sick her on me - then again, I have five cats myself, so they should protect me. *looks at her fat, disinterested cats* Then again... And don't worry, Aragorn will follow - eventually...
Halfling - Uhm, that wasn't a cliffy, was it? I mean, he died, so what's suspenseful about that? And I didn't hurt every elf in the last chapter... *thinks* well, yes, I did, now that you mention it, but it was a mere coincidence. Really. *g* Hmm, to be honest I liked the Paths of the Dead, but not the dead themselves. In the book they still had to fight, making it somehow more real, and in the movie they just appeared and all the orcs died without really having a chance to fight back. *g* Boooring. And Ted (The Mouth of Sauron, don't ask), yes, I missed him too. I am hoping for the Ext. Version as well. *g*
Calenore - Uhm, no, sorry. Galalith is dead as a doornail, as they say... *g* And I think most of the men are duly intimidated, except for Teonvan of course who is too stupid. *g* And Legolas does have some common sense. Not much, no, but a little. *pats his head* Poor, stupid little elf...
Critternut - I don't ALWAYS kill the good guys. Sometimes, yes, but not always. *g* LOL, yes indeed, Teonvan is a bad guy. And he's rather good at that, too... I didn't think there was anything wrong with the ending - well, apart from the fact that Celeborn didn't sail to the West with Galadriel, but okay - it was much worse in the books, with the Scouring of the Shire and all that... Well, I didn't feel pity with Denethor at all. I never liked him, but the throwing-himself-off-the-seventh-circle really was exceptionally stupid. Well, I hope your Christmas was nice too and that you did indeed get what you wanted! Have fun in Florida!
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Same to you, mate, same to you. Thanks a lot, great that you still like the story, and thanks for the review! Wow, I put it all in one sentence! Amazing... *shakes head*
Strider's Girl - Yeah, well, you're right, there was no Aragorn. *hastily* But there's Aragorn in this chapter, honestly! *pushes her into the direction of the post* There, go on and read it! Shoo! *g*
SundiAndElven - Uhm, al-right. You two sound as if you're having lots of fun, so I don't think I'll intrude... *wide-eyed* You sure you're okay? LOL, A Walk in the Park? Well, that would have been an appropriate name as well, I guess... *g*
Firniswin - We are all, my friend, we all are. Some people like me just have a hard time admitting it... Oh, and don't worry. Dutch and German are rather similar, when you know the one, you can understand quite a lot of the other, so it's not that uncommon to confuse the two. *blushes* Thank you for saying that my writing has improved. The chapters are much longer now, that much is sure... And of course I like Glorfindel! Who could not like him? Thanks, and I hope you had a Merry Christmas yourself!
Jazmin3 Firewing - Well, you will see in the end why Galalith had to die, it's just a tiny little question I've asked myself since I started reading FF. For now it should suffice to say that I'm evil, right? *g* I will pass along your message for King Thranduil of course, even though I don't think he's in the mood to talk to me at the moment. *shrugs* I don't know why either. I'm working on the Galalith clones, and let's just say that Teonvan will die - eventually. *evil grin*
Elenora1 - Well, I try to be fair. I mean, it would be evil just to get Legolas into trouble, or only Aragorn. I may be many things, but I'm not unfair... *g* And I agree with you: Much more fun than getting one of them into trouble is getting BOTH of them into trouble. *evil grin* Oh, and you're right, Legolas had about two lines in the whole movies, and the one he did have were stupid, stating the obvious or both. Poor elf. I missed the take-your-breath-away-part though - to be perfectly honest, I like Legolas (the book-Legolas), but I don't like Orlando Bloom. I know that I'm going to get myself lapidated here, but I really don't like him - I loathed him in PotC, and I shudder to think of Troy which I will probably see as soon as it comes out. I just don't like him, and even less than in PotC I like him in LOTR. Sorry. *g* You're gonna kill me now, right?
ElvenDancer - See? Reviews work! I love reviews! Everbody loves reviews! I would even have updated yesterday, but I really was sick. I promise. *g* So, thanks a lot for reviewing! Just do it again, you'll get used to it soon! *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - *hides face in hands* I was afraid you would say that. The universe - managed by an insa... mentally unstable Canadian Girl - oh my, oh my... Yeah, and I am looking forward to the Extended DVD as well, but in my opinion a movie shouldn't have to rely on Special DVDs to make it a good movie. Without the scenes, it was merely rather good, nothing more. And again, I'm sorry for killing Galalith, and if you think Eru would frighten me, you're mistaken. *g*
Firegirl353 - LOL, no, I guess it was neither polite nor fair. *g* Don't worry, Celylith will be back, but not for the next few chapters, I'm sorry. I have planned everything precisely, and he can't get back to Mirkwood in the next two days. Poor Celylith. *pats his head* The twins will of course get to Mirkwood as well, but I can't promise you to make Elrohir the main twin. I mean, I never do that, but I might think about hurting him a little more than Elladan. Deal? *evil grin*
Tyne - *g* 'Must have more pranks'? Well, I hate to disappoint you, but they are a little busy at the moment. They do have better things to do than pulling pranks on each other, sorry... Uhm, do you have issues with _my_ grammatical structuring? If so, then please tell me what's wrong! How am I supposed to learn if no-one ever tells me what I'm doing wrong? It's nice to hear that you still like the story, and 'le' is really spelt that way. There is another version, 'lle', but that's simply not Sindarin. I don't think it's Quenya either, so it might be made-up or something else entirely. *shrugs* Whatever. Thanks for reviewing, btw!
Sirithiliel - A Merry Christmas to you too - well, it's a little late now, but still... Don't worry about the reviewing; you have reviewed so much that you can easily take a few chapters off. *huggles* Thanks for all the reviews!
Just Jordy - We've all been busy, don't worry. I totally understand if someone doesn't review around Christmas - it's horrible... It's very nice to hear that you like Reran - I do like him as well, a lot, actually. *huggles Reran* He doesn't really love me back, but still...
Alilacia - Alright, understood. My lips are sealed. I won't say anything, promise. LOL, and of course, that's it! Teonvan's hobby is knitting socks! He gave Reran a pair of pink ones, and that's the real reason why he hates him... *g* And I got the Ext. Version as well! Yay us! Well, I hope your Christmas was nice as well - and, more importantly, your presents! *g*
Lita J - Well, what can I say ... yes? Yes, he died. I'm sorry, but he did. *shrugs* What more can I say?
Cicci - *sighs* I know. I know. I liked him too. He was a nice elf. I would have LOVED to let him live, but I couldn't, really. Trust me. LOL, I know what symptoms you mean, I get them myself. That's why I never let my readers wait longer than a week. It would be cruel. *g* *huggles Cicci's alter ego* Thank you! It's great to hear that you like my cliffies! Don't worry - the review made perfect sense, thank you! *huggles her and her alter ego*
Carla - Wie kommst du denn darauf? Legolas? Aerger kriegen? Neeeeiinn, so was wuerde ich doch nie machen... *g* LOL, 'jetzt sind noch nicht mal mehr Tiere sicher'? Recht hast du leider, ich muss zugeben, dass ich mich schon lange drauf gefreut habe, Rashwe einen Pfeil zu verpassen... *g* Das mit den Zwillingen hat mich auch gestoert, aber das mit den Houses of Healing und dem Palantír noch mehr. Viel mehr. *grrrr*
Marbienl - Oh, believe me, I haven't uncrossed my fingers in days! I am really hoping to see loads of new scenes in the Ext. DVD. And no, I'm sorry, there was no Estel in the last chapter, and there won't be any Estel pain for quite a long time, sorry again. That's the way it is. *shrugs* Hmm, you're right, a prince is more important than guards, then again, a commander's first duty is to his men. So, tought choice. *g* And yes, Legolas could have jumped into the trees, but then how would he have got captured? *shakes head* Really, we can't have that... Well, even if Anardir doesn't die, they won't forever be parted, now will they? I mean, Elves are released from Mandos' Halls to walk freely in Aman, so, in the end, they would see each other again. And I am three chapters ahead at the moment. *grimaces* Used to be five, but then there came Christmas and I got sick and so on. *shrugs* Good thing I write in advance, huh?
Finara-Hin - Well, technically speaking, _I_ didn't kill him. One of the men did. Alright, he might only have done it because I let him, but still. *g* Your feeling might prove to be correct though: Aragorn won't be very happy about Legolas' capture, neither with the elf nor the men, trust me. And you're right, the last chapter was a little bit darker than the others - but there was a _little_ bit of humour in it. Quite a lot, actually... *g* Thanks for your review, I really love them!
Tychen - Nope, it mosst definitely does not apply to Elves. Would be boring too, wouldn't it? *evil grin* LOL, a 'certain angst driven slightly damaged Ranger'? Who are you talking about? I have no idea, really... *g* And no, no damage coming up, no damage at all - really! I would never do that... *g*
Zam - Merry Four-Days-After-Christmas to you! And you're right, RotK didn't flow at all if you ask me. And I didn't pity Gollum either, I never liked him, in the books or the movies. He's a freak, and an evil freak at that. No-one forced him to kill Déagol for the ring, now did they? No, of course not. Stupid idiot. *shakes head in disgust* LOL, I knew you would like the 'Death!'-bit. There wasn't nearly enough Éomer in the movie though if you ask me... Hmm, I didn't know you were Reran's type - isn't he a little bit too old for you? Hmm? *evil grin* Zam likes Reran, Zam likes Reran... *sing-song voice* LOL, that's funny! If in doubt, I always go right. I don't like left. Left is evil. Trust me on this. *g* Well, I am happy you are taking care of Galalith and that Nólad and Cornallar like him too! Really! *g*
Bailey - I am sorry you had to go to Ohio for a funeral. I hope it wasn't too bad. Well, Teonvan is not related to Geran, but I guess he might. They might even have known each other... *thinks* Perhaps. We'll see. Hm, the twins. Well, sorry to say it, but I don't think they will be here before chapter 12. Sorry about that, but that's the way it is. And they're not delayed, they are due to arrive (counting from the end of this chapter) in three days at the earliest. So, no wargs or anythign, sorry. *g*
Maranwe1 - Thanks for asking, my Christmas was very nice, as I hope was yours. I got a lot of useful and even nice things, can you believe it! *g* And I absolutely agree with you. All these scenes should have been in there, and I would have loved to see Imrahil of Dol Amroth as well. I've always liked him a lot. Yes, btw, chapter 11 is finished, something for which I am eternally grateful. It was beginning to really annoy me, and now I am actually looking forward to writing the rest. Yay Nili! *g* Great to hear that your fic is progressing as well - I always envy people who aren't stuck somewhere, especially if I am at the moment... And you're right, you know, it's ironic that Reran curses Adruran for dying. Still, he has the right to do so, since Adruran just took off instead of returning home and letting himself ne killed for failing their lord - perfectly selfish, I know... *g* Weird man.
Crystal-Rose15 - I know! I loved Halbarad and always thought it horrible he died on the Pelennor Fields - and they didn't even show him! What a world! *sobs* And, personally, I think Legolas is both brave and loyal _and_ completely insane. Why choose when you can have both?? And I liked Galalith too, really, but he had to die. I'm sorry about it, but still. *blushes and huggles* Great you liked it! Thanks for the review!
LeggyLover03 - Don't worry, Aragorn will go after him. Eventually. Ah well, you know me, my characters seldom really rush anywhere, so you'll have to wait a bit, I'm afraid. Not too long, but a little. *g*
Karone Evertree - Well, I think Teonvan isn't really popular with anyone at the moment. I don't know why either... *g* And I'm usually a few chapters ahead so I can post even if I haven't had time to write much. Just like now; it really comes in handy. *g*
Tapetum Lucidum - Wow, two reviews at once! Thank you! Hmm, now that you mention it: I would defininitely not be able to keep up with any elf. I wouldn't even try though - I'm a loser, I know... *g* LOL, perhaps you should tell your children something like Reran told his men to stop them from wandering off? You might get some interesting reactions... *imagines her throwing herself onto the ground at the end of ch. 7* Well, thank you! That's a nice compliment! Even though it would have been rather alarming if you had really thrown yourself onto the ground... *g* And you're right, it was the reason for Celylith's errand and Aragorn's injury: I needed to get the two of them away from Legolas, because _they_ would never have left him, no matter what. *shakes head* Stubborn elf and ranger, really...
Mystic Girl1 - Selber Frohe Weihnachten! Ich hoffe, es war schoen, du hast viele Geschenke bekommen usw. usw... Ich _wuerde_ Galalith ja gerne wieder lebendig machen, aber da geht nix, wirklich. Tot ist tot, sorry. Tut mir leid zu hoeren, dass du so im Stress bist, ich hoffe, alles hat sich ein bisschen beruhigt mittlerweile? Lass dich bloss nicht allzusehr stressen, okay?
Sarah - Oh no, English isn't my first language (*points at response above this one*) as you can see. *blushes* I thank you for your nice compliment though. It may give me delusions of grandeur but it's nice to hear nonetheless... *g* And I think you're right. They were just riding somewhere all the time, from one battle to the next, without explanations, reasons or something of the sort. Highly irritating, if you ask me... *bows* Thank you once again for your kind words. They are greatly appreciated.
Iverson - Great to hear that your Christmas was nice too! And please, don't worry about pointing out things you don't like. Apart from the fact that I want to know what people really think so I can possibly correct mistakes etc. you are entitled to your own opinions, and only a fool wouldn't want to hear them. Besides, you're right. It was a clichéd sentence, from the first letter to the last. Don't ask me why I put it there, I can't remember. I think it was because I had just watched a Babylon 5 episode that was really clichéd; must have rubbed off. So: You're right, and, frankly, I'm surprised that you're the only one who pointed it out. *g* It's nice to hear that you 'like' Reran though, it's quite hard to express the different sides of his character. For me, that is. *g* And you're correct, of course: There's NEVER enough angst! NEVER! Mhahahahahaha! *runs off cackling madly*
Starlight - Ich haette ja postwendend mein Geld zurueckverlangt, ehrlich! Nein, okay, ich haette es nicht getan, aber ich hab 'ne Freundin, die sich bei sowas immer beschwert - ueber alles und jeden - und es funktioniert! Sie bekommt dauernd Gutscheine und Geld zurueckerstattet und so - ich kann so was leider nicht. Ich hab ein zu weiches Herz, ich Weichei. Und es tut mir leid mit Galalith, und ich habe auch geheult, ehrlich. Wie ein Schlosshund, um ganz genau zu sein... *g*
Port - A speeding Mac truck, huh? What a way to go... *shakes head sadly* Alright. Yes, I do appreciate unasked-for advice, _especially_ about grammar. As you probably know, English is not my first language, and I need all the help I can possibly get. I admit I didn't pay THAT much attention in school all these years ago... *g* *blinks* Modifier. Got it. To be honest, the thought that someone might get confused never crossed my mind - at least when you take the one sentence you cited as an example. But I know what you mean, and I've been working on it for a long time. I'm always having problems with these modifiers - they're nothing but trouble, really - it's one of the things I doubt I will ever learn. Another thing is that, in my language, you _would_ put the modifier at the end of the sentence - it's not supposed to be an excuse, mind you. I know the word order is wrong or at least ambiguous, but it's hard to remember sometimes. And about the long sentences: Another thing I am working on, honestly. Apparently without much success. *g* I thank you for taking the time to really think about my weird story, and your advice is much appreciated, even though I would hardly call myself a professional. I would like to hear what other things you 'would like to mention', so if you want, just send me another review or an email. Once again, thanks a lot, and I hope your laundry didn't get eaten by the washing machine. It happens to mine all the time... *g*

This is getting longer than the acctual chapter - a rather sad fact. *g* Another Thank You to all my reviewers, and to all of you a Happy New Year!