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.

10. Decisions

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

A Happy New Year to all of you as well! I hope you all had lots of fun on New Year's Eve and got into this next year without trouble or blowing yourselves up when trying to light fireworks. I'm not kidding, that can really happen - to some of us, at least. I nearly did that a few years back, and believe me when I say that it was incredibly painful and not a bit of fun at all. *g*

And I honestly don't know why you guys all think that Aragorn will try to leave the palace without permission to go after Legolas. Come on, people, we all know that our favourite ranger would _never_ do that, right? *evil grin* No, I'm sure the thought hasn't once crossed his mind, responsible young lord that he is...

Okay, about that one thing quite a few of you asked: No, the men don't know that Legolas is the Prince of Mirkwood. For now, they don't even know his name. On the other hand, Legolas doesn't know that the men are in any way connected with Adruran and his Merry Men from the last story. Reran and the others don't know either that Adruran is still alive. Esssentially, no-one knows anything. *g* Oh, and Teonvan and Geran, our friendly psychopath from THOM, are _not_ related. They're all from the same place, but that doesn't mean they're related. They're not.

And, last but not least, I don't know yet how long this story is going to be. Careful estimation: About 25 chapters, I think. I honestly don't know, but I refuse to write more than 30. So, around 25 chapters, probably not less. It would be a first time if I managed to write less chapters than I want. *g*


So, enough of that! Chapter 10 is here, this year's first chapter! Including some interesting exchanges between King Thranduil, Aragorn and quite a lot of other elves, a nice conversation between Teonvan and Legolas (which Legolas did not provoke, of course *g*) and we find out whether or not Aragorn will wait for his brothers. I'm still accepting bets on that subject, btw. *g*

Enjoy and review, please!

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Chapter 10


Aragorn would have given anything to be allowed to pace. Well, technically it wasn't that there was anything that was stopping him from doing just that – except for the King of Mirkwood, three of his most trusted advisors and several other elves, most of them healers who were hovering just out of hearing range.

The man grimaced inwardly. He usually tried to suppress things such as pacing, because he knew perfectly well that it was undignified and not befitting his status; besides, elves never paced and so he would not either. Right now however, he would have loved to express his feelings of choking worry and mounting impatience, but the mere thought of his father's face when he heard that he had started pacing in front of Thranduil and half of his court was enough to stop that urge. Elrond had never treated him any different than his adoptive brothers and had therefore always insisted that he behaved in an appropriate manner, namely one befitting young elf lords, and pacing did not fall under that category.

Grey eyes once again strayed to the closed doors of the room he and the others had left some minutes ago and began to wander restlessly through the healing wing when they saw that the doors were still closed and didn't appear to open any time soon either. Hithrawyn had declared that all of them were disrupting his concentration, with a pointed, dark look at Aragorn one might add, and had ordered one of the younger healers to throw them out before immediately returning his attention to the unconscious body of Anardir in front of him.

Not even Thranduil had protested when they had gently but firmly been pushed out of the room and the doors had closed behind them with an audible thud, something that increased the respect that Aragorn held for the golden haired king. To argue with Hithrawyn when he was in this state of mind was useless and considered dangerous and even suicidal, and the young ranger didn't doubt that Hithrawyn would even order all of them to leave the healing wing completely or would do things much worse if he deemed it necessary.

The need to walk back and forth increased, and Aragorn forced his mind off Anardir's bloody body to the question of where in the name of all the Valar his elven friend could be, not a very intelligent thing on his part since his worry and fear multiplied exponentially when he just thought of Legolas. He forced his emotions back into a corner of his mind, locking them away as he had done so many times in the past when he had needed to treat a friend or family, and tried to think of what he knew.

Legolas had left to visit the patrols to the south. Anardir and Galalith had been members of such a patrol. Galalith was dead and Anardir was grievously wounded, and no-one seemed to know where Legolas was.

Aragorn leaned back against the stone pillar his back and closed his eyes, doing his best to fight off the dark tendrils of despair and panic that threatened to envelop his heart and mind. He didn't even have to follow that train of thought any further to see what had happened: Legolas had once again managed to get himself into trouble. Somehow, Anardir and, at first, Galalith must have escaped, but Legolas had apparently not…

The man took a deep breath and kept his eyes closed, not trusting himself to control his emotions should he lift his eyelids. Legolas wasn't necessarily dead, there was much he did not yet know and Anondil, the leader of the patrol that had brought Anardir and Galalith back, might know something that changed everything he had just put together…

Filled with new resolve, he opened his eyes. Until now he had heeded the unspoken agreement not to discuss anything until Hithrawyn could tell them what would become of Anardir, but he simply couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't know how Lord Thranduil did it, but he knew that he would go insane if he had to remain in doubt and uncertainty for one more second.

Just when he had opened his mouth to demand answers in a way most unbefitting a young lord, human or not, especially in the presence of elders, the doors of the large room opened and the young healer who had escorted them out of the chambers some minutes ago appeared on the threshold. He bowed his head slightly and soundlessly motioned the assembled group of four elves and a human to re-enter the room, appearing much relieved that he was inviting his king this time instead of throwing him out.

In less time than anyone would have thought possible the five waiting beings had moved into the room, only narrowly escaping the term "rush into the room", something that would not have pleased them overly much, since elf lords do not rush anywhere if they're not in battle, that is.

Aragorn was last to enter the room, and his eyes immediately darted to the bed on which Anardir lay. The blonde elf seemed to be still alive, something that caused him to breathe a deep sigh of relief. He didn't know how he would have reacted if Anardir had died as well and joined his dark haired friend in the Halls of Mandos, even though he would probably have greeted that event with joy…

"How is he, Hithrawyn?"

Thranduil's voice brought Aragorn back to the present, sounding calm and in control of the situation. In truth, the king was neither, and he had to stop himself from letting the worry and fear he felt for his son show.

Hithrawyn motioned at his two assistants to leave the room and close the doors behind them, and only when they were alone he answered.
"Not good, my lord," he answered, looking the clearly agitated elf in the eye. "I removed two arrows from his back and his shoulder, and he suffered several other smaller injuries. He shows no signs of waking, and I do not know when he will regain consciousness. Or," he added with a dark look, "if he will regain consciousness at all, especially considering that he apparently watched his friend die. His injuries are very severe, and it's a miracle he made it even this far."

"So he won't wake up soon?" Celythramir asked, looking anxiously at the healer.

"No," Hithrawyn shook his head. "I am sorry, my lords, but this is out of my hands and beyond my skill to heal. If it is the will of the Valar, he will recover. He might just as well journey to the Halls of Waiting. There is nothing anyone can do."

The four other elves in the room seemed to shrink as a hope they had obviously been harbouring was squashed as effectively as a beetle under an orc's boot. Aragorn looked from one to the other, and finally decided that no-one would volunteer any information in the next few decades.

"Forgive me, your Majesty," he began, giving Thranduil a small, respectful nod, "But I do not understand. What does this mean? Where is Legolas? What happened out there?"

Thranduil seemed to notice for the first time that the ranger was present as well and gave him a slightly confused look before he appeared to remember that the ranger hadn't been with them for the entire time. He took a deep breath and nodded into Anondil's direction.
"Tell him what you told us earlier, Commander. He will find out anyway."

A small voice inside Aragorn's head noted that this might very well have been an insult, but it soon began to fade as he the dark haired elf began to speak, looking at him seriously.

"We don't know much. I am in command of one of the smaller guards to the south, about half a day away from the palace; Anardir's patrol was stationed approximately five hours' casual ride from us. Today we were relocating a little to the north-west to follow the tracks of a rather small pack of wargs, which turned out to be quite a good thing since we met with three of Anardir's men this way. They had been attacked by the wargs we were trailing, but they weren't hurt too seriously. I sent them ahead with some of my men, and they should have arrived here earlier this evening."

Celythramir nodded, noticing the question in the younger elf's voice.
"They arrived here some hours ago. The lad's arm was cracked, but that was by far the worst injury."

Aragorn glared at Celylith's father, once again thinking that it was indeed true what they said about the Elves: If asked, they would only answer in riddles or telling you mountains of information that was only loosely connected to your actual question.
"If you'll forgive me, my lords, I cannot see how this has anything to do with Legolas."

Anondil smiled slightly at the young man's impatience.
"If you would allow me to finish, Strider…" The ranger raised his hands in apology and beckoned for him to continue, and the elf took up his tale where he had left it. "As I said, we met with them, and that meeting prompted us to continue into the direction of their patrol. We knew that there were only Anardir and Galalith left, and didn't think it safe for them to remain alone until reinforcements could arrive. Unfortunately, we had moved away from their position earlier, and so it took us longer to reach their position. Well, actually, we didn't reach their position at all."

"Why not?" Aragorn asked, still not being able to see how this could be important in any way.

The dark haired elf's face turned serious.
"Because, about an hour before nightfall, we found Prince Legolas' horse, or rather, it found us." He fell silent for a moment, trying to compose himself when he thought of what had happened next. "We followed the tracks further south, and an hour after sunset we … found them. Galalith had been dead for some hours, and Anardir was barely conscious. They had apparently ridden on the horse, but it hadn't been able to carry them any further in its injured state. I sent three of my remaining warriors to follow the trail and find out what they could and returned back here as quickly as possible."

"That was the reason why we hoped Anardir would regain consciousness," Celythramir explained. "We know nearly nothing and were hoping he could shed some more light on what happened."

"What do we know, my lord?" Aragorn asked, carefully reining in his temper. One had apparently to be at least two millennia old to be able to state such disastrous facts with such an infuriating calmness. "Where is Legolas?"

Anondil answered for the silver haired advisor.
"We don't know, Master Human. When we reached the two of them, Anardir was already very far gone. All we could learn from him was that they had been ambushed and that he had been ordered to leave the prince behind to get help. We don't know whether the people behind this ambush meant to capture or to kill them; he lost consciousness before he was able to tell us more."

"We sent out five more patrols when you got here, as your Majesty commanded," Celythramir added with a nod into the Thranduil's direction who had remained motionless since Anondil had begun his tale. "But they won't get very far if they don't want to destroy what little tracks we have. Tomorrow morning we will know more, when Commander Anondil's men return."

"And the snowstorm doesn't help," Thranduil slowly shook his head; the first thing he had said for the entire time. "Not even our scouts can find tracks that are buried under several feet of freshly fallen snow."

"You don't know who might have attacked them?" Aragorn asked, still trying to come to terms with what the elves had just told him. How in Elbereth's name could they remain so impassionate?

"No," one of the other advisors shook his head, "Right now we know nothing more than what Anardir told the patrol that found them."

"Excuse me," Hithrawyn took a step forward, "I believe I can be of assistance here."

Five pairs of intensely gleaming eyes turned into his direction, and if gazes possessed physical force, the assorted power would have propelled the blonde elf off his feet and through the balcony door at his back.

"Hithrawyn?" the Elvenking arched a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, your Majesty," the healer began, apparently not really happy about being the centre of attention in such an illustrious company, "I can of course tell you nothing with absolute certainty, but the arrows I removed from Commander Anardir's back and shoulder might offer us some clues. They were no orc arrows, my lord."

The blonde elf trailed off, and for a moment Thranduil's quick temper flared up in his eyes before the king apparently regained control over his emotions.
"Then what kind of arrows were they?"

"From what I can say," the other began slowly, carefully avoiding looking into Aragorn's direction, "They were human, sire. They were definitely not orcish or dwarven."

Aragorn's eyebrows moved up his forehead as he kept staring at the blonde elf who was very busy checking Anardir's bandages again. Human arrows? What did that mean? What had humans been doing in Mirkwood? What had they wanted from Legolas? About a dozen other questions flittered through his mind with impressive speed, and the ranger closed his eyes to avoid the elves' gazes that were surely fixed on him right now. It would have to be humans, wouldn't it?

"There is only one human in Mirkwood at the moment," the advisor who had been silent until now remarked, a particularly unnecessary comment in Aragorn's opinion.

Celythramir's eyes narrowed at the other elf, but before the silver haired elf could say anything, he was interrupted by the carefully controlled voice of his liege.

"And that human would never attack my son or any other of our warriors, even if he had had the chance, which he did not," Thranduil stated, a clearly audible threat in his voice. "Everyone in my halls knows that, and those who do not are very welcome to discuss this question later with me – or the Lord of Rivendell if they think it necessary."

Even the most unobservant of persons would have realised that this was hardly a time to talk back to the Elvenking, and his advisor was definitely anything but. He hadn't truly meant to accuse the ranger anyway, and so he inclined his head to his king in silent acquiescence.

Aragorn merely looked at Thranduil with a carefully emotionless expression on his face. He had always known that Legolas' father … well, that he didn't exactly approve of his and Legolas' friendship. It had taken a few years until the older elf had seen that Aragorn was not like other humans he had known and that Legolas didn't intend to let his father tell him whom to befriend anyway, and had therefore finally, and Aragorn thought grudgingly, accepted that they were friend and were likely to remain friends until the ranger died or they managed to get themselves killed, an entirely more probable possibility in Thranduil's opinion.

Be that as it may, Aragorn hadn't expected much help right now, and he certainly hadn't expected any help from Thranduil. While the young man was still musing whether the elf was maybe acting like this because the shock about finding out that his only son and heir seemed to have disappeared without a trace had finally set in, Celythramir looked at Thranduil sharply, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"What could humans want from the prince?" he thought loudly. "They might be poachers."

"Perhaps a kidnapping?" the other advisor offered quietly, once again refusing to look into Aragorn's direction in a way that was beginning to annoy the man and make him feel highly self-conscious. "If Prince Legolas was indeed captured on purpose, it could be an attempt to extort ransom."

The king nodded slowly.
"If our prior assumptions were indeed right, you might be correct, and in that case these edain are sadly mistaken. I will not bow to such an outrageous act of violence!" A dangerous glint appeared in Thranduil's eyes, and he added, "Yet it is pointless to draw further conclusions until these facts have been confirmed. Until the rest of Commander Anondil's men and the other patrols we sent out have returned and reported what they found, we can do nothing effective."

He drew himself up, a calmness and certainty emanating from him that was at odds with what he truly felt.
"Still, in case we were wrong and this was the precursor of more attacks the guards are hereby doubled. The patrols will be reinforced in the morrow, and the warriors at the gates will be ordered to be extra-careful. At sunrise we can send out more patrols to look for the prince, but they are to report back with the others. The council will also convene an hour after dawn."

Thranduil nodded at the assembled elves and human.
"That is all."

Taking this as the dismissal it was, the king's advisors bowed and turned to leave the room, yet Aragorn remained behind, a determined expression on his face which the Elvenking commented with a small inward sigh. He really did not know how it was possible that Aragorn had inherited Lord Elrond's stubbornness since he wasn't even his real son, but somehow the young dúnadan had managed that amazing feat and was just as headstrong as his foster father.

"Excuse me, your Majesty," the man began, taking a careful step closer, "But I would like to accompany your scouts tomorrow morning."

Inwardly, the blonde elf rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything he was interrupted by his master healer who had just finished mixing a medicine in a small silver goblet.
"I will pretend I didn't hear that, Master Human, since you cannot be serious."

Aragorn ignored the elf with the superiority that only long practice brought and continued, his serious, desperately gleaming eyes not leaving the king's face.
"Please, sir, I promise not to be in the way. I learned much from my brothers and your son as well, and I will not be a liability to your warriors; all I ask for is the chance to help find Legolas. Besides, they might have need of a healer when they do find him, and I could be of assistance there as well."

Hithrawyn stood to his feet in an instant, apparently having completely forgotten that his lord was present.
"You, human, are still not fully well and I absolutely refuse to let you put even one toe outside this palace for the next few…"

The blonde elf quickly fell silent when his liege gave him a dark look and raised a hand, and quickly bowed his head and left the room, still shooting Aragorn furious glares which the man completely ignored. He hadn't even fully comprehended what Hithrawyn had been telling him; all that mattered was that he somehow convinced Thranduil to let him go. He just had to go out there and find Legolas; he could still very well remember what had happened the last time they had encountered a group of unknown humans, and to think that this time his elven friend was all alone only served to increase the shivers of fear and dread that rolled down his spine.

Aragorn looked at the still silent king, trying to determine what the sparkle in the elf's eyes meant. He had never really managed to find out what these sparkles meant, and in his experience it could be anything from disapproval to agreement to an impending fit of fury.

"Please," he said softly, "Please, your Majesty. It is my fault he went alone, and the mere thought of him being captive of some unknown group of humans is…"

"No," the blonde elf suddenly raised his hand, "No, son of Arathorn, it is my fault. I encouraged him to go alone in the hope of somehow preventing him from getting into trouble in your company; a vain hope, it appears. If there is someone to blame, it is me and no-one else. Do not burden yourself with a guilt that is not yours to bear, young one."

He fell silent for a moment as he apparently tried to bring order in his thoughts and continued, a steely glint in his eyes that caused the man's heart to sink. He had seen that glint far too often in his own father's eyes.
"Yet Hithrawyn is right in my opinion. You are not fully well yet, and it will help no-one if your condition worsens again."

Aragorn shook his head unwillingly, the other's refusal to listen to him causing him to talk back to the king, something he would never have done under any other circumstances.
"My condition? It was merely a cold, and I am perfectly alright!"

"I was not yet finished," Thranduil informed the man in an icy tone of voice and looked at him darkly, but that look softened slightly when he saw the truly distraught face of the young human whose anxiety most probably originated to equal part from the fact that his best friend had disappeared and the fact that he had just interrupted the very ill-tempered King of Mirkwood. "My word stands, ranger. I doubt neither your noble intentions nor your abilities or those of your teachers, but I will not risk your health or your family's wrath by letting you go on a doubtful mission to find one missing elf – even if that elf is my son."

Huge, gleaming silver eyes were turned on the blonde elf, who felt a sudden sway of pity for the Lord of Imladris. He could very well imagine what Estel had been like when he had been younger – probably much like his Legolas had been when he had been an elfling, namely unbearably adorable and at the same time incredibly stubborn – and could guess how hard it must have been to be to resist such an innocent stare.

"He is my friend, your Majesty," Aragorn said quietly. "I have to help him."

"And he is my son," Thranduil countered. "There is nothing you can do at the moment, except pray for his safe return. If he is still not found when the Lords Elladan and Elrohir arrive in a few days, you and they may go and help search for him, but I hope that it doesn't get that far."

"Do you really believe it to be an attempt to extort ransom?" the young ranger asked, carefully avoiding agreeing to the king's proposal. He wouldn't dishonour his host by giving him his word when he intended to eventually break it anyway.

The golden haired king grimaced, apparently remembering unpleasant things from the past as his eyes strayed to the body of his warrior that was covered with a sheet.
"It wouldn't be the first one," he answered curtly, clearly unwilling to divulge more. He turned back to Aragorn, his face emotionless once more. "It is late and I have much to do yet, dúnadan. I am sorry, but you cannot accompany the warriors tomorrow morning; I happen to agree with Master Hithrawyn on this matter."

Aragorn bit his lip in frustration, but held back a dark comment that wanted to escape his mouth. The king was only doing what he thought best, after all, and it was his right as lor of these lands to deny his request.

"As you wish, my lord." He gave a small bow and was already half on his way out of the room when he halted and added with a small, sympathetic smile at the Elvenking, "I am sure we excite ourselves needlessly. Legolas will surely arrive here sometime in the night after having escaped the ones who were stupid enough to attack him."

The elven king smiled back, thinly and clearly not convinced.
"You might be right, and I hope with all my heart that you are."

Aragorn's smile wavered and disappeared completely after a few seconds.
"My lord, I also wanted to thank you for…"

"There is no need," Thranduil raised his hand. "There are many things I may doubt about your kind, son of Arathorn, I will freely admit that, but what I have never doubted is that you are a loyal friend to my son. No-one with some wits about him could ever think otherwise."

The younger being battled an embarrassed and proud flush that wanted to creep up the sides of his face. He didn't know whether the king was serious or under some kind of shock, but it meant a lot to him to hear such approval from him.
"I would die for your son, your Majesty."

"And he for you," the elf nodded seriously, his eyes darkening a little. "I know." His eyes returned to the white, unconscious face of Anardir who was lying motionlessly on his bed, still and motionless as a carved marble statue. "It is late. Good night, Estel."

"Good night, sir," the man bowed his head and asked a last question, his eyes darting once again into the covered bed's direction. "Who will … tell his family?"

Thranduil bowed his head as well for a moment, golden hair falling forwards onto his shoulders, and when he looked up again his face was grey and looked impossibly old for an elf.
"I will," he said quietly. "It is my duty. I will remain here for a few more minutes and will then go to Galalith's parents. They mustn't hear it from others in the morning."

Aragorn wanted to retort something, but try as he might, he couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound precocious or stupid or both, and so he didn't say anything. There was only a small part of him that was capable of reasonable thought anyway; the greater part of his mind was well on its way to a full-blown panic which he could less and less conceal. With another nod at the Elvenking he quietly slipped out of the room, his thought firmly fixed on Legolas and how in Elbereth's name he could get out of Mirkwood to help him.

Thranduil hardly noticed the man's departure as he remained where he was, staring out of the window into the raging snow storm and wondering in what condition his son would be in if he ever saw him again at all.




This was turning into a bad day, and it hadn't even truly started yet.

Legolas shook his head slightly, a movement so small and minute that it would have gone unnoticed even by an elf who was looking for it. Well, technically speaking the day had started a few hours ago, but the men had only got up a few minutes ago. He would never understand what humans did during the day that warranted them sleeping so much, and had Aragorn been here he would surely have teased him about it, but Aragorn wasn't here. He was alone with a group of humans he knew nothing about except the facts that they had injured his friends and captured him, and that fact alone would have been enough for him to predict that this would not turn out to be a good day.

There was another reason however, and that reason was definitely more serious than the last: The dark haired man whom he had … slightly antagonised yesterday, Teonvan if he remembered correctly, appeared to be in charge of his guards today, and that was most certainly a guarantee for a bad day.

Legolas sighed inwardly while he watched the men with emotionless eyes who were bustling about as they prepared to break camp, looking stiff and cold to his substantial satisfaction. The more rational and sensible part of him (which was, according to Celylith, the twins, Aragorn and about every other friend he had ever had, exceedingly small and at the point of being threatened with extinction) knew that he should have kept his mouth shut, that he shouldn't have made this man angry, but the rest of his mind stubbornly stated that there was no way he would allow this man to believe that he, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, was scared of him, because he wasn't, and that was the truth. These men might have captured him, yes, he gave them that much, but they needed to do a lot more than this to actually frighten him. Up until now their threats and treatment had been much less threatening than his father on a good day.

No, Legolas thought darkly and glared at a man that passed him a few feet to his left, making the human stumble under the power of a fierce elven stare and almost drop the pile of blankets he was carrying. No, he would not show these people any emotion they wanted from him, and definitely not fear.

Still, today his situation appeared even darker than yesterday, now that he had had enough time to properly think about it. Yesterday most of his thoughts had still be clouded by hatred and fear for the safety of his men, and while these feelings had not at all diminished, he had had due opportunity to consider his options, which were few, as he had to admit. These people knew exactly what they were doing, and it appeared that they had been instructed not to take their eyes off him for longer than a second, unfortunately a rather sensible measure.

The way he saw it, there was little chance of him escaping them the way things were at the moment, and if he was perfectly honest he agreed with the human commander's assessment. Even with the grace of the Valar Anardir and Galalith wouldn't have reached Mirkwood much earlier than last evening, and then it would have been too late to send out search parties, even though that was definitely the first thing his father would have done. By the early hours of this morning, when there would be enough light for the scouts to follow what little tracks there remained after more than a day of continuous snowfall, there wouldn't be much to see, even for the keen eyes of Mirkwood Elves.

Legolas shook his head again. He was sure that his father's scouts would find the humans' tracks, with time, but he wasn't sure if it would be in time to follow the trail before it disappeared due to the current, less than friendly weather. No, he was stuck here with these people, and he couldn't rely on help from anyone. He was on his own, and if he wanted to escape, he would have to do it himself.

The elven prince had just come to that conclusion when a shadow fell over his face, and he looked up slowly, carefully taking his time. His eyes strayed to the sky that was covered in dark, angry-looking grey clouds that were apparently just waiting for the right opportunity to start showering the ground with snowflakes again, before he finally looked at the man who had stopped in front of him and was looking down on him with a particularly smug expression that Legolas hadn't seen on anyone's face besides Hithrawyn's and that one orc's he had killed about five centuries ago. The elven prince suppressed a wince. Neither the encounter with Hithrawyn nor that with the orc had been anything that could be called pleasant or enjoyable, and to see that expression on Teonvan's face was not something that caused him to change his mind about this not being a good day.

He gave the dark haired human a mildly disinterested look and patiently waited for him to speak, knowing that he would eventually. It was in few men's nature to be silent and reserved, and he was sure that it was not in this one's. Most of the other humans might be quiet and professional, but if Teonvan didn't open his mouth in a few seconds to gloat and boast and generally behave like a ten year old human child, he would personally go and find the closest orc horde to openly declare that their race was far superior to the Eldar.

Legolas nearly grinned when the man standing in front of him wasn't able to stand the silence anymore and finally opened his mouth to speak.

"A good morning to you, elf," Teonvan said pleasantly, smiling at him in a decidedly disconcerting way. The blonde being looked just like yesterday, the man mused inwardly. He didn't know how the elf did it, he thought, just like last evening he merely appeared mildly irritated by the proceedings around him. The man noticed that the bruises on his face had blossomed overnight, but other than that he appeared to be unchanged – just as arrogant, just as overbearing, and just as proud. Teonvan grinned widely. That would have to be changed, wouldn't it…

The prisoner just continued looking at him with that mildly interested expression that simply drove Teonvan mad with anger, and so the dark haired man moved closer to the elf, a menacing air all of the sudden appearing around him.
"I said something to you, elf," the man spat, "It would only be polite to answer."

The elf blinked as if in great surprise, puzzlement appearing in his eyes.
"Oh, forgive me, Master Human, you were speaking to me? I thought you were once again starting one of your captivating monologues. Please, do continue."

Teonvan was rendered speechless for a moment. How dare this elf treat him like this? Trembling with rage, he didn't know what to do for a moment, but then he stepped forward, grabbed the elf by a bound arm, fervently hoping that he caused a maximum of pain in the process, and pulled him to his feet.
The guards who had stood to their feet when Teonvan had appeared began to shuffle their feet and to slowly and inconspicuously move backwards, apparently more than unhappy to be caught in such a situation. One of them opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it again when his superior gave him a glare so dark that it would even have impressed thier lord. The man quickly ducked his head and moved backwards, he and his companion quickly joining their comrades who were busy breaking camp right now.

Teonvan waited a few seconds until the two were out of earshot before he returned his gaze to his prisoner who still appeared so calm that it was beginning to make the man's blood boil.
"You still haven't understood one thing, elf," he hissed so softly that only his captive could understand him.

He very deliberately shifted his grip on the other's arm until his fingers closed about the slashed fabric of the elf's left shirtsleeve where an arrow had grazed him during the fight yesterday, a wound that had gone unnoticed and untended until now. The cut wasn't long but rather deep, and dried blood clung to the wound and the torn garment. The man's fingers closed around Legolas' upper arm and began to clamp down, building up pressure until it was very hard for the elven prince to hide the signs of pain that wanted to show on his face.

"Yet you really should try to grasp the one important idea," he added, burrowing his fingers deeper into the elf's injury and watching with relish how quickly disguised pain flickered in his eyes. "You feel that, elf? This pain is only a taste of what is to come yet! I am in charge of your guards for today, and who knows for how many days after that until we arrive at our destination?"

Teonvan's grip tightened even further, and while Legolas had to bite down onto his lower lip to stop himself from betraying any sign of pain he felt, the elven prince's eyes remained filled with an unwavering contempt and fixed on the dark haired human's face. The man either didn't seem to notice or was entirely unconcerned about what his prisoner thought about him and continued, a strange gleam appearing in his eyes.

"I will not be spoken to in such a manner, Master Elf," he told Legolas pleasantly. "Maybe you think you know what pain is, but I can assure you that you are mistaken! There is much you don't know, and I am going to teach you, even if that is the last thing I ever do! Our lord won't care in what condition you are in as long as you're alive – and 'alive' is a rather vague term, is it not?" His fingers clenched around the elf's arm momentarily, causing the pain to spike suddenly so that it nearly sent the elven prince to his knees. "Do you have anything to say to me now?"

Legolas looked at the man, eyes gleaming with suppressed pain and loathing so fierce that it would have sent any sensible being running away as fast as possible.
"I have nothing to say to you, human. Not to you, not to your companions, and not to your lord. You are not worthy of my attention, and nothing will you get from me but my utmost contempt."

"You say that now," Teonvan smiled eerily at him. The man released his dead grip on the prince's arm but still held him firmly enough to make sure that the elf could not draw away from him. "We will talk again, elf, and soon, that I promise you. Reran won't always be here, and as long as I don't kill you my liege will not mind in the slightest. You will regret these words in the end, believe me."

The fair haired elf didn't answer but simply continued looking at the man so coldly that it should rightly have frozen him on the spot, a firm certainty emanating from him that he did not think so at all. Teonvan shrugged inwardly and began to push his captive forward, into the direction of the horses. He was slightly bothered by the fact that, due to the fact that he sunk into the still soft carpet of snow almost to his knees, he was quite a bit smaller than the elf who was taller than he in the first place. The elf would learn … oh yes, he would greatly enjoy teaching this one, he was even more interesting than the last one – and a lot prettier as well…

Before the man and his prisoner had even taken more than a few steps, three men appeared before the two of them, so quickly and soundlessly that Teonvan would almost have run straight into them. To his substantial dissatisfaction, one of them was exactly who he didn't want to see: Cendan, Reran's black haired, blue-eyed, even-faced, thoroughly infuriating lieutenant. He man almost rolled his eyes. Reran's little pet soldier, wonderful, that was exactly what he needed now…

"What?" he asked, rudely ripped out of his enjoyable dreams of what he would do to the elf if Reran ever was out of the camp long enough for him to have some fun. "What is it?"

"The captain sent us to take him over to the horses … sir," Cendan announced in an annoyingly neutral voice that never failed to enrage Teonvan. It was a tone of voice that left no doubts about the younger man's true feelings for him. "Captain Reran decided to reinforce his guards. We wouldn't want him to escape, would we?"

After a moment in which he fervently tried to come up with a reason why he couldn't allow Cendan to take away the elf and failed, Teonvan reluctantly nodded his head at the dark haired man.
"Alright. Alright. Take him."

He gave the stony-faced elf a push into the direction of Cendan and his men, feeling very disappointed when the fair haired being didn't stumble or fall down as any mortal man would have. For a moment, something flashed in the elf's silver-blue eyes, disappearing far too quickly for him to identify, and yet even that short look was enough to leave him with a feeling similar to being dumped into a bucket with ice water.
In the next moment it was gone, and the two men who stood behind the dark haired lieutenant grabbed the elf's arms and began to drag him over to where the horses were gathered together with most of the humans.

After a second, the two commanders fell into step behind their men and the captive who was once again showing them the same regard he would have shown a small, disgusting insect, or perhaps not even as much. Teonvan waited for a second until he was sure that their men were out of earshot before he turned to Cendan, his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light of the slowly rising sun that was doing her best to break through the thick grey clouds.

"You were there before I turned around," he stated in a low voice, studying the other's face intently. "What did you hear?"

Cendan looked evenly back at the other man, inwardly once again surprised at how fiercely he loathed him, from his stringy brown hair and his smug grin to his leather boots. Yes, the young lieutenant decided darkly, he even loathed his boots, which was a rather sad fact now that he thoughts about it.
"Nothing, sir. I and my men heard nothing." The man looked at his superior, not being able to resist the temptation. "Was there anything to hear, sir?"

For a moment, Teonvan felt very tempted to kill this impertinent man, but thankfully remembered just in time that Reran probably wouldn't be very happy about it. He was not stupid enough not to see that it was not a wise idea to antagonise his temporary captain, not right now anyway. At least he thought that Reran would be angered about Cendan's death; that would be just like him. Reran had these really curious ideas about loyalty and respect, it would be typical for him to feel personally offended when one of his men was killed. Inwardly, Teonvan shook his head. What a very strange attitude.

"No, Lieutenant," he snapped at Cendan who looked entirely too unconcerned and maybe even a little bit amused, as if he were inwardly laughing about a joke only he knew. "There was absolutely nothing to hear. If I were you, I wouldn't look so smug, by the way. I assume you know that there are many dangerous things that can happen to those who do not learn to keep their noses out of other people's business, yes? Do not think yourself untouchable, or you might come to regret it. Reran will not always be here."

Cendan ground his teeth so hard that he was surprised that no-one could hear the sound of tiny pieces of his dental enamel breaking away.
"I hear your words, Commander."

"Good," Teonvan nodded sharply. "Don't forget them either."

The younger man bowed his head and both humans fell silent, and several paces in front of them, Legolas restrained himself just in time from raising an intrigued eyebrow at what he had just heard, even if the two humans left and right of him had not. When he was pulled to a stop by his two guards, he shook his head inwardly, and wondered how much more complex and intricate his current, already more than confusing situation would become. If he weren't involved in all this in a most unpleasant way, he would even have thought it interesting, but to be honest, he could only see the darker sides of these developments.

He did not really believe that Cendan would indeed kill him as he had announced yesterday when the man had thought himself threatened by his words. Legolas had no doubts about the man's readiness to kill him if he saw his mission or companions in danger, but he didn't think that he would kill him and therefore disobey one of his mysterious lord's direct orders. In fact, he didn't think that Cendan would chose to kill him at all, at least not in a hidden, silent manner so that it seemed to others like an accident. Somehow, that didn't seem to fit what he thought to be the young man's character; in Legolas' opinion he would gladly kill him in combat, but not in silence and secrecy like a common murderer.

The elven prince suppressed a small shiver that raced across his back as he stared straight ahead, fixing his eyes on the coat of the animal that was at the moment being prepared for him, a large, hard-mouthed horse of a rather unidentifiable colour. The look on Teonvan's face when the man had closed his fingers around his (still mercilessly throbbing) arm, the joy he had obviously felt at that action that had been so easily visible…

No, he thought darkly, glaring again at the men in front of him just to do something, and be it something as trivial as unsettling some of his captors. Teonvan would have no such problems if it got him what he wanted, he was very sure about that. No problems at all.




A scream ripped through the stillness of the gloomy, dark room that was only lit by the slowly dying embers of the fire that barely emitted any light at all. A second later, the figure lying in the bed shot upright, one hand pressed tightly over his mouth and the other against his sweat-covered chest.

All of the sudden, a violent trembling settled over the young man's body, and he burrowed his head in his hands, desperately trying to calm his racing heart. After a few moments, the shaking lessened, and the man leaned his dark head against the carved, wooden headrest of his bed, his eyes closed as he slowly got his feelings under control.

Elbereth, the young human thought, that had had to be the worst dream he had had since … well, a long time. After a few more seconds, he gingerly sat up, threw back the multiple layers of blankets he had acquired during his time here and stumbled over to the large stone basin in one of the corners of his room. For a moment, he stared at his image reflected in the still surface of the water in the bowl, but his reflection contorted into images he had seen in his dream, and with an angry, desperate shake of his head he quickly stepped forward and dunked the same into the icy water.

Several moments later he came back up, feeling as if someone had jammed a thousand tiny needles into his head, but better nonetheless. This had always been something he had done after a bad dream, dunking his head into the next available bowl or basin of water. The first time he had done this as a very young boy he had scared his brothers witless who had rushed into his room when they had heard him cry out in his sleep; they had actually believed that he had been trying to drown himself, or so they still claimed.

The thought of his elven family only served to distress him even further, and Aragorn moved back over to his bed and sat down on the mattress' edge, unconsciously beginning to fiddle with the edges of a blanket that had half slid of the bed. Oh, how he wished his father to be here now; Elrond would certainly know what to do!

Aragorn resisted the urge to draw his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around them as he had done many times in the past when he had been younger. The day that lay behind him had been nothing less than chaotic, and Aragorn had spent every minute of it filled with a choking anxiety, fear and mounting pain, a mental pain that was beginning to spread into his body and rend his heart in two.

Not that it had been any different for the majority of Mirkwood's residents; by the morning news of Galalith's death, Anardir's injury and Legolas' possible capture had reached every single elf's ears, and Mirkwood had been put into a state Aragorn had never before seen, and had never wished to see either. At sunrise the search parties had left along with the reinforcements for the rest of the patrols, and until they had returned a stunned numbness had laid itself over the palace and its inhabitants. The king had secluded himself in the council chambers with his advisors and had remained there for hours on end.

All Aragorn had done was pace between the palace and the gates, having thrown what was being considered proper behaviour for young lords into the wind, and since the guards were more than occupied with their own grief and problems, none of the elves he had met had thought that in any way peculiar. He had just come up with the seventh plan of breaking into the council chambers and forcing King Thranduil to let him go after Legolas (which would admittedly have worked about as well as the other six he had devised, namely not at all), when the scouts and the rest of Anondil's men had returned at nightfall – empty-handed.

Aragorn had been down at the gates at that moment, thinking that he had his emotions under control rather well, but to every objective observer it was clearly visible how distraught and more and more desperate he really was. He hadn't even needed to ask if the elven troupe had found something, anything that might give him a tiny bit of hope; a thick, almost palpable frustration and guilt hung over the warriors that looked more dishevelled, wet and frozen than Aragorn could ever remember seeing an elf.

The young ranger got to his feet again, the anxiety and fear that filled his heart demanding a way to vent themselves. As if drawn there by a physical force, the man walked over to the thin wooden door that separated his room from the balcony attached to it and opened it, sucking in the clear, cold air that was in such sharp contrast to the almost stifling heat that filled his chambers. He closed his hands around the cold railing that surrounded the tiny space far above the palace gardens and stared unseeingly onto the snow-capped trees that swayed gently in the night breeze, snow once in a time falling to the ground in a thick shower of white flakes.

Indeed, the guards had returned empty-handed. He hadn't been there when the elves had reported to their king, but in a matter of only a few hours the news had made its way through the palace, since in their distraught states neither Thranduil nor his advisors had seen it fit or necessary to contain it: What tracks the scouts had been able to find led East before they lost themselves completely in the snow that had been falling incessantly since yesterday morning. A part of the warriors had of course been left behind and would keep searching for clues that might lead them to their vanished prince and would tomorrow be joined by even more scouts and other volunteers, but none of the elves Aragorn had spoken to – including Celylith's father who had shortly stopped to speak with him when he had been hurrying from one council meeting to the next – had really believed that there was a noteworthy chance of being able to catch up with Legolas and his captors in the next day or two.

Aragorn felt once again how a wave of relief and gratitude swept over him, so overwhelming in its intensity that it almost caused his knees to buckle, for that was the one, tiny little bit of good news that had reached Mirkwood since yesterday evening: Legolas was not dead, thank the Valar. The patrols had found no body, no elven body, that was. What they had found were the bodies of seven humans though, all of them killed by a very sharp dagger. That of course only left room for only one possibility, namely that Legolas had indeed been captured and that the men had taken him with them, for why should they leave their dead companions behind and take an elf's body with them?

The young human ground his teeth. That was all the Mirkwood scouts had been able to find, the bodies of these men and some tracks that lost themselves between the trees. The elves would be able to find signs of the men's passage, of that the ranger was certain, but it was anyone's guess how long it would take, or if they would be able to catch up with them before they left Mirkwood where they would be leaving incomparably more tracks than in the open lands around the forest. If it kept snowing like this, any trail would quickly be covered and vanish, and if there were no broken twigs or torn off branches to follow, not even the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood would be able to follow the mysterious group of humans.

And the worst, Aragorn decided darkly, was that the king still refused to let him go anywhere outside of Mirkwood. The more reasonable part of him understood the Elvenking's reasoning of course, who had been telling him that the last thing Legolas would want was him to get hurt in the search for him (not to mention the twins' pending arrival that suddenly didn't seem so desirable anymore to the king), but said reasonable part was beginning to shrink constantly at an alarming rate. He couldn't even give Thranduil a good reason why he needed to be out there looking for Legolas – apart the very obvious one of course, namely that he was beginning to go out of his mind with worry – no reason, that was, if he didn't mention his dreams, and with that he was back at the beginning.

Aragorn turned back around and looked through the partly opened door at his bed with the rumpled, twisted sheets, leaning back against the balcony railing. The dreams, the one thing he could not tell the king about. It wasn't that he didn't trust Legolas' father, but he didn't fully comprehend what they were meaning himself and would therefore certainly not tell the King of Mirkwood about them. In fact, they were something he wouldn't even have told his brothers about; the only person he would have willingly told about them was his father, and Elrond was several hundred miles to the West right now. Still, he thought with a small smile, Legolas would probably have found a way to make him tell him, even if he hadn't mentioned the dreams at all … Legolas always did, stubborn elf that he was…

The young man closed his eyes and pressed his open palms against the closed lids in a vain attempt to erase the images he had seen in his dreams, but they stubbornly remained as if someone had etched them into the insides of his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes and fell asleep he saw the same things, ever since he had heard that Legolas was missing. The images he saw were so vivid, so clear, and every single one filled him with shocking fear and pain. Every single image was of his elven friend, of Legolas, surrounded by strange, unknown men, of Legolas in pain and suffering, and finally of Legolas dying in agony.

Aragorn dropped his hands to his sides and opened his eyes again, staring angrily at the bed in front of him as if the piece of furniture was in some way responsible for his current situation. In Eru's name, what did this mean? Was it the future? The past? Nothing but a figment of his frantic imagination?

He didn't know, he admitted to himself again, he simply did not know. He had had some dreams like these before, almost always when he had been hurting or worried. Most of them had occurred when he had started to grow into a man, and since his father and brothers had always had them as well, he had never thought them in any way peculiar. He had of course known that Elrond possessed the gift of foresight and that Elladan and Elrohir had inherited it in some way, even though it was certainly not as strong as their father's. Before his twentieth birthday he hadn't been able to understand why he was having these dreams as well, but when he had been told of his heritage, much had become clear. The royal house of Númenor possessed that gift as well, and he as Isildur's Heir had inherited it from Elros Tar-Minyatur like every one of his line before him.

Still, he thought darkly, he had experienced nothing like this ever before; all he had had until now were vague feelings and perhaps a clouded glimpse of what might come to pass; nothing like this. Elrond had assured him that the ability to see clearly and be able to interpret what he had seen would develop as he grew older, and he had never expected something like this now, when he had not yet completed his twenty-third year. The images had been so distinct and precise, so vivid … no, this had to be more than a simple dream. He didn't have much experience with visions of any kind – even though he had the feeling that that would change soon enough – but he wasn't ignorant enough not to know one when he saw it.

Be that as it may, he thought as he turned back to look at the serene palace gardens that were in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions that swirled in his chest, what should he tell the king? That he had had a dream and thought that it might be a vision that could possibly lead them to Legolas? That he had the feeling that he would be able to find him, even if Mirkwood's best scouts, elves millennia his senior both in age and experience, were not? And what would his brothers say when they got here in a few days and discovered that he was gone on what they would call a fool's errand? What would his father say?

Aragorn hung his head, the darkness that surrounded him filling his heart and crushing all emotions but despair and helplessness. He couldn't expect the king to allow him to follow this path on his own or with some of his warriors, or even to believe him – the way he saw it his statements would probably be considered a side effect of his recent illness and he would be back in Hithrawyn's healing wing before he could even say "Not fair". He couldn't just leave the palace either, against King Thranduil's orders. Apart from the fact that he would most likely never get past the gates anyway it would be a gross violation of the ancient laws of hospitality that had been drilled into him since he had been a child. It would be a sign of great disrespect and ungratefulness to leave his host's house in such a way when it was clear that the Elvenking didn't wish him to in order to protect him, and he shuddered to think of what his foster father would say to it…

For about the forth time this night, Aragorn turned around, back towards his room. He didn't even need to close his eyes to recall the pictures he had seen during the past two nights; every detail was burned into his memory. The image of Legolas lying on the cold, snow-covered ground, with his hands bound and helpless … the image of Legolas surrounded by humans, bleeding and in pain … the image of Legolas being approached by a brown haired man he had never seen before, a man who held something he couldn't identify, all of it accompanied by the feeling of such overwhelming pain that he could hardly bear it…

Aragorn took a deep breath and looked shortly over his shoulder at the dark, peaceful trees that swayed in the gentle breeze, looking beautiful with their slender branches and strong dark trunks. Then he turned back to door that led to his room, and when he took the first step forward he knew what he had to do.





TBC...





edain - humans, men
dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger
Eldar - 'People of the Stars', elves




No, NOW I don't accept bets anymore. *shakes head* He IS kind of stupid, isn't he? Well, it must be genetic then, it's not really his fault... *runs off to escape Elrond's and the twins' wrath* Well, be that as it may: Things are finally beginning to get interesting! In the next chapter we'll find out if Aragorn manages to get out of Mirkwood, have a little conversation between Thranduil and Celythramir and much more. As always, reviews tend to speed things up considerably. *nods seriously* It's true. So: Review? Please?

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Additional A/N:

Deana - Well, I never liked those Thranduil-abuses-Legolas-stories, they're rather OOC if you ask me. I mean, I do realise that "my" Thranduil is grossly OOC as well, but not as grossly as that. *g* At least I hope so. And I would even draw you a pic to remind you that Thranduil is indeed golden haired and blue-eyed, but I couldn't draw a decent pic to save my life. Sorry. *g*
Tapetum Lucidum - Great you liked the bear skin. I just figured that that's something dwarves would do, please don't ask me why. I have a lot of these weird ideas. LOL, the toss-me-look. Yes, that's indeed funny. *g* And you could say that our mysterious evil lord has an evil plan for Legolas. Quite so, actually... *evil grin* And you're right again: Thranduil won't be a happy camper for the next few chapters. Quite the opposite in fact. *g*
Jazmin3 Firewing - That wasn't a cliffy? I mean really, that's not a cliffy! A cliffy is something else entirely - at least in my opinion. And yes, Galalith WAS funny, and I DID like him, but he HAD to die, simply because I wanted emotional trauma for an elf close to Legolas. So, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was an accident, kind of... *g* And well, Teonvan's hobbies are _somewhat_ related to Geran's I think. Just a little bit more ... sinister, you could say. I'm still working on the Galalith clones, btw, don't expect me to deliver before chapter 20 or something, sorry! *g*
Dha-Gal - Yup, to be stubborn and behave like an idiot is JUST like Legolas, isn't it? *evil grin* And YES! Rub it in, will you? They ONLY sell the purple ones; it's an outrage! How is one supposed to live! *wrings hands* Oh woe is me! Great to hear that your wrist isn't broken. Broken bones can be REALLY annoying... And I could have guessed that that happened during volleyball training. I was on the school team, and every time one of us went to the doctor next to the school with some sort of hand injury, he got that long-suffering look and only asked "Volleyball team, eh?" In the end we just taped all fingers without exception, just in case. Looked weird, but worked. *g*
Gwyn - Yup, we think alike, something that gives me the creeps. *g* It will definitely stay PG-13 though, I could never write something like that. I mean, I really couldn't. I was able to get used to the torture, but not to something like that. No way. *shivers* And that was no cliffy! Honestly, a cliffy is something else!
Sabercrazy - Because FF.net is stupid. It does such things all the time and no-one knows why. It's evil and insane, keep your distance. *g* *beams* Great you liked the character death! You did, didn't you? *watches her face turn purple* Uhm, you didn't? And I didn't cross it out, that was my alter ego! She's doing such things all the time and I'm powerless to stop her... *shakes head* Very sad. I agree though. Your alter ego and mine would get along just great. *g* And I would be lying if I said that I have understood completely what you meant, but let's just say that this is going to stay PG-13. Definitely. Your guess is a good one though.
Firnsarnien - Yeah, you're right, all these things don't work with me. I love being chased with sharp objects, I love death threats and the like, so I definitely have you at a disadvantage, I fear. *g* And yes, I'm evil, but it had to be done. This whole story was inspired by the one question: Why do the good guys always have to win? I mean, in the end it's all peachy and they live happily ever after? Ha, I don't think so! Not in my universe, mister! You'll see what I mean... *blinks innocently* So you're Scarlett O'Hara? Nice to meet you... You're going to send me a threatening letter? Really? That's so sweet - thank you! *huggles* And yes, I DO know that this is all fun. It's good fun too. *g*
Calenore - Hmm, yes, they haven't beaten him yet - you're right! I'll have to remedy that - thanks for the idea! *g* I think that you have to pity Elrond and Thranduil in fact. With the luck their sons are having it's a miracle they haven't left for the Grey Havens yet... And yes, you keep believing that Galalith'll be back. Right. *g*
Susy - Well, thank you! It's nice to hear that you like my weird little story! Thanks a lot for reviewing!
Mouse5 - Yeah, it's one of my finest traits - being able to create chaos and angst wherever I go. It's rather rare, I've heard... *g* So you want even more chaos and angst? Well, I'll see what I can do...
Fliewatuet - Great to see you're still with us. I'm sure you'll soon be up to date - I mean, the chapters aren't that long after all, right? I think it's a curse, btw, truly. I mean, a curse would be the only explanation for their unearthly ability to sustain the most horrid injuries wherever they go and whatever they do, right? And you're right, healers ARE the worst patients. 4/5 of my family are various kinds of doctors, so I know, believe me. *g* And I think that, to a certain extend, Aragorn is so careless because he grew up among Elves who heal much faster. So he either forgets he needs more time to heal or choses to ignore that fact. Hmm, I think it's safe to say that Adruran's/Reran's lord is not after the treasure anymore. It's gone, besides, now the Dwarves of Erebor know about it. Would be too dangerous. *g*
Silvertoekee - LOL, yeah, things are indeed not going so great for Legolas and everyone else. You will have to be patient a bit longer though, 'cause the evil lord won't reveal his evil schemes for quite some time though. Sorry about that. And it's not hard to keep track of the reviews, I get a review alert for each one after all. Besides, I am addicted to them so I guess I couldn't miss it no matter what. *g* It's sad, don't tell me.
Bailey - Yeah, I know, but it's fun if he's wasting valuable time. It makes things angstier, don't you think? *g* And I don't think that Rashwe would be much help right now; he's injured, remember? You don't ride a horse which has suffered an injury to one of its legs before it's completely well again, at least that's what my sister tells me, and she would know. So, sorry, no Rashwe. *g*
Strider's Girl - *innocent look* Who, Aragorn? Doing something stupid? Nooooo, never... You know him, that's something he would never do... *g* *blushes* Thanks, it's great to hear you like my way of writing Legolas and Aragorn. I sometimes find it rather hard to determine what they would do, and I always hope people aren't too upset with my interpretation of their characters. And don't worry, I won't abandon this story. I am a perfectionist, it would insult my sense of order. *g*
Websterans - Uhm, thank you? Yes, I do indeed hope that the story is exciting, or at least a little bit. *g* Thanks for reviewing!
Firniswin - Nah, don't worry, you're tougher than you think. A little cliffy won't kill you - besides, that wasn't a cliffy. Just to ghet that straight. *g* You are printing my stories? *wide-eyed* Really? Wow, what kind of printer do you use? Mine would have died a long time ago... *g* Yeah, lots of people have problems spelling elvish names and things like that. I luckily don't have that problem ( I have a lot of others, trust me *g*), but I'm insane so that doesn't count, I guess. I love the language as well, so... *shrugs*
Firegirl353 - Okay, it's going to get a little bit complicated. *g* Yes, Elves are the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, but Men ARE the Second born, since Dwarves are not actually children of Eru. He may have granted them life, but they were created by Aulë the Smith (Mahal in their tongue). So, Men are indeed not Second born since the Dwarves awoke shortly after the Elves, but they are definitely the Second born children of Ilúvatar, besides, I said "one of the Second People", not of the Second born. "The Second People" is the literal meaning of the elvish names for the human race, Atani in Quenya and Edain in Sindarin. *stops to take a breath* Sorry, it wasn't supposed to turn into a lecture. *shrugs* I hope this answered your question? *g* Oh, and I could hurt Elrohir so that he would remain conscious, what about that? I'll try to concentrate on Elrohir, but I can't promise you to use his POV all the time. I may be many things, but I'm not unfair. *g*
Sirithiliel - Hmm, I don't know about that. At the moment, Legolas is a tiny bit tied-up, so to speak. But, eventually, he might indeed. *g* Great you liked the past part, and thanks for reviewing!
Alilacia - Oh, don't kick your computer, kick FF.net. It's their fault, really. And lots of people seem to have the same problem, I don't why though. Hmm, he got the fur of the bear, just as it was, not a caot made out of it. Sorry if I expressed that ambiguously. So, it's not a coat, it's a fur. LOL! I love the socks! I'm sure all of them would love to get a pair of nice, warm socks. Pity Teonvan isn't a charitable guy, right? Well, I hope you got some sleep and had lots of fun on New Year's Eve! *huggles*
Asha Dreamweaver - Yes, I am evil. It really took you so long to figure that out? *g* And, as I said, they don't know that Legolas is a prince. They don't know either that he is the elf that screwed Adruran's plans. I don't know if they will find out, most certainly not in the next few chapters though.
Karone Evertree - Hmm, as I said in the A/N, neither teonvan and Adruran nor Teonvan and Geran were related. They're from the same part of ME, but they're not related. I don't know when Legolas will finally figure out that they're connected to Adruran and the others, not soon however. Sorry. *g*
Amelie - No, never fear, I won't abandon this story. I didn't mean to say that, it's just that most of the time when I'm in the middle of a story I lose the faith in my ability to end the whole thing. I will end it. Trust me. *g* Hmmm, why don't I like Orlando Bloom? It's hard to say, really. Well, first, I don't think he's attractive in LotR, really, not one bit. He may look cute once or twice, but I don't find him attractive. I HATE that blonde wig. I mean it, I hate it and the blue contact lenses. They make him look freaky. He was better in PotC, but only marginally. I don't understand it myself, since I am more the dark-haired-dark-eyed-type of girl, but I just don't find him more than handsome. So, I don't think him attractive, and that leaves only the acting ability, which he doesn't have in abundance if you ask me. I know, that sounds harsh, and you can't measure him against Johnny Depp or Ian MacKellen for example who were simply wonderful in the movies, but I just don't think he's that good an actor. *grins sheepishly* You wanted to know. That doesn't mean that I don't like _Legolas_ though... *g* Oh, and I have both written and decided about the who is going to stay where and will get where - thing, but you'll have to wait and see. Can't tell you everything, now can I? *evil grin* Nope, I can't.
Elvendancer - Oh, I was being serious for once, really. I love reviews and they help me loads. Thanks for asking, I'm much better, even though I still have a bit of a cough. It's annoying, nothing more. Thank you for taking the time to review! *huggles*
Just Jordy - Yes, my Christmas was nice, thank you. It's always a bit stressful, but that's the way things are, right? *blushes* Thank you, but are you serious? You read only my stories in this genre? Oh, big mistake! There are so many wonderful authors out there! Go and read Thundera Tiger's stories - then again, you won't want to come back to read this horrible stuff I write... *g* Well, I hope your Christmas was at least bearable then - family can be very annoying indeed. *g*
Halfling - Well, his name is Ted. It just is. Didn't you think he acted just like a Ted in the book? I mean, if he's no Ted, then who is? *g* And of course Legolas is nice and friendly and non-antagonistic, good little elf that he is. He would never provoke someone, no, not he... *g* Well, Aragorn can indeed not go riding to Legolas' rescue just now - but I won't say anything about the twins. Just think about one thing: Would there be more angst for everyone if they went with him or if they were too late? *evil grin* Yup, that's what I though too...
Lina - *looks at Lina's full body cast* The Michelin Man - I mean, the Michelin Lina! Run for your lives!!! *g* So you're a southener, huh? *amused eyebrow* Hmm, you wouldn't last long here then, I guess - it really started snowing today. I love snow and ice! *g* *pats Éomer's head* Good boy. Don't kill my characters and keep that madwoman... I mean, Lina, away from them and we'll get along just great! And I knew you and Zam would love the Rohirrim's new battle cry! *g*
Leggylover03 - *sighs* How did I know you would say that? I must be telepathic! But yes, in a few chapters there will be some pain and angst - mainly Legolas pain and angst at the moment, sorry. Don't worry though, I'm always fair. *g*
Zam - I am so sad to hear that the weather almost killed you! Truly, I am! Why didn't it REALLY kill you?? WHY????? *g* Nah, j/k, I would greatly miss you ... your death, I mean... *g* And trust me, you don't want to kill Erelas, we'll need him later. So, hands off, okay? He's a nice guy, really... LOL, LINA persuaded Fëanor to attack the Teleri? Why doesn't that surprise me in the slightest.... So, don't worry, your father-in-law is in here, and the joint review was - whoah. I'm still speechless. Or shocked, take your pick.*g*
Zam AND Lina - I recovered from my speechless state. Took me some hours, but I'm back. First: How do you two come up with things like this? I mean, really? How? Are there illegal substances involved? If yes, where do I get them? *g* Well, I'll just ignore the fact that you killed one of my villains and will replace him with his identical twin, whose name conincidently also is Teonvan! Bow before my ingenuity! *g* And YAY! I get a present! I've always wanted the Barrow-wights! How did you know? Thanks so much!! *huggles both of them* I'll ignore the fact that they nearly sacrificed me, btw. I like ECBG. He's cool. I thought it was a shame Éomer killed him. He's always so quick to kill people... LOL, Zam is now the B**** Queen of Angmar? As if I didn't see THAT one coming... *g* I've always thought that the Nazgûl's dragon thingies were cute, btw. They're adorable!! *huggles dragon thingy* And I indeed remember Helm's Deep and your evil squirrels! DEATH!!! *g* So, now that that's over, I also have some presents for you! For Zam ... *dramatic music* the King of the Dead with his army! And for Lina ... *dramatic music again* Ted, aka the Mouth of Suaron who didn't make it into the movie! Go and be happy! *g* Merry Chrsitmas to you two!
CrazyLOTRfan - Oh yes! Yes! I want to be Varda Elentári, also known as Elbereth Gilthoniel! I want to be her! All of Elvendom will worship me!! *evil cackle* And see? I told you you would see it my way in the end... *g* Yeah, I don't know why either, but most people seemed to have guessed that Legolas would get himself into trouble. You people are psychic, really... *g* Great you liked Frór's little gift, and I hope you had lots of fun playing your game! I've heard it's cool!
Bballstar42 - Oh, take your time. Unfortunately I don't have time to update faster than every five days or so, so you shoudl have plenty of time to catch up. Well, I hope you'll like the rest of the fic as well, and thanks a lot for the review!
Suzi9 - Wow! Huge review! Thanks! It's very nice to have you back - I missed you! Your Chirstmas sounds like a lot of fun though - like some I had before my parents divorced, in fact. There was one where my father was trying to cut the Christmas tree's trunk and the axe ended up in the floorboards - the expensive floorboards. We then had to tie it to the balcony doors, dinner caught fire, my parents argued and my father locked himself in his study and refused to come out for the whole evening. It was a disaster, and we children spent most of it in tears. *nods* Oh yeah, that was fun. Yours sounds even worse though. Your father really punched his brother-in-law? Wow. I'm astonished that it really was because you moved to England though. I mean, the battle of Culloden was, what, 260 years ago? 258 I think - and that was the last great battle if I'm not mistaken. *shakes head* It's rather strange, huh? Sorry I depressed you even further, but ... uhm, well, that's my job? I have to agree though, a war between Mirkwood/Rivendell/Dúnedain would have been most entertaining indeed. Rather bloody, most likely, but funny nonetheless. Thanks for asking, I am much better. I read lots, listened to my new Live CD and wrote only a little, unfortunately. *grimaces* I knew that Tolkien based most of ME on Nordic myths, but if you really go to all these places I _demand_ that you send me the pics! *evil look* Please?
Orlandofan13 - Well, I can promise you to update frequently, but to finish ... nah, sorry. This is going to be a lot longer, so the end won't be here for quite some time, sorry. *g* I don't know why we love to torture those we love either. Freud would most probably have known an answer, I think... Thanks for the review!
Critternut - Yup, you're right. A review is a review. *g* I hope you had more time to read the rest of the chapter, and that you still liked it after that. Thanks for reviewing, no matter how short!
Marawe1 - LOL, the little glimpses of nobility are 'scrumptuous'? I'll admit that I love them myself, but 'scrumptuous'? Interesting choice of words, though... *g* The bear fur might come in handy later indeed, that is, if Aragorn remembers to take it with him... Alter ego: You're the author for cryin' out loud, just make him! Nili. Hey! You're right! Alter ego: Duh! *g* Sorry, just talking to myself again... *g* Well, about your question: It just might be that everyone find everyone. A great, happy get-together, sort of... *g* I'm not making any sense, am I? And, well, really decent bad guys - nah, I don't think so. You never know though, do you? Well, you're not stuck too horribly, here it was just as I thought. Once chapter 11 was finished, everything was much easier. Much, much easier. *g*
TrustingFriendship - Ah, broken down cars are not fun at all. Mine broke down some time ago, and took ages to get the parts they needed to fix it and all that. A nuisance, really. *g* I might do what you demand and kill the baddies slowly/painfully - hmm, I most certainly will, I think. But whoever said that Aragorn would save Legolas once he finds him? I don't think I did. Nope. I didn't. *g* A Happy New Year to you too! *huggles*
Naur Rhaug - *blushes* Thank you! It's great to hear that you're enjoying my weird little story, and it's very nice that you like the way I write the characters. I'm always somewhat worried about that. Thanks a lot for the review!
Marbienl - Oh yes, definitely. We HAVE been hanging out with him far too long - you and me both... *g* Riiight... *nods quickly* Hands balled to fists. Whatever you say. *beckons for Elrond to give Marbienl a tea to knock her out* Suuure, just relax.... I will put one of these scened in this, I think, but quite a lot later I fear. patience, my friend... *g* Yup, that's why I needed Frór. You can have him back now, though. *hands her dwarf* Here you go. And I'm sure Legolas knows a few tricks about slipping out of his bonds, but these men know what they're doing. The tricks don't help if the one tying you up knows them too... *g* LOL about Legolas' glasses! That's most certainly a funny idea! Great you liked the 'kingly Aragorn' scene. I didn't want to overdo it since he's still young, but I had to put it in. I've always loved those scenes in the books. And no, Anardir WILL see Galalith again once he gets to Aman, but no-one knows how long elves have to spend in the Halls of Mandos before they are released. So it might be some time. And yes, that joke WAS kinda ... interesting. *g* A Happy New Year to you too! *huggles*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - I am in fact absolutely sure that bad karma follows the two of them. Either that or they've been cursed. Or both. *g* You can never know with these two...
Miss Attitude - *scratches head* How can you lose the storyline when you've read the other chapters? Ah well, stranger things have happened I guess... Well, take your time catching up, thanks a lot for the review!
Cicci - Great to hear that you like the villains. I've always liked the baddies more than the good guys - good guys are so terribly boring most of the time... *g* I thank you of course for your compliments, even though I have to admit that I can't see what's so great about that last paragraph. It wasn't even a cliffy. *shrugs* Thanks a lot nonetheless. Well, yes, or rather no, English is not my first language. I have to give you credit for recognising German though; not all people do, trust me. *g* German is indeed my first language. You are lucky receiving your education in English; all I had were English classes three times a week since 7th grade. And my teachers weren't the best, believe me. *g* Thank you for saying that you wouldn't have noticed that English isn't my first language, and let me return the favour. I wouldn't have guessed that English isn't your first language either - even though I would never claim to be some sort of criterion for that, but... *g*
Starlight - Na, natuerlich hat Aragorn 'endlich' wieder was zu sagen! Ich wuerde es doch nie wagen, dem zukuenftigen Koenig Gondors den Mund zu verbieten... *g* Zu den Unfaellen kann ich mich natuerlich nicht aussern, sagen wir doch einfach, dass die Chancen nicht allzu schlecht stehen, okay? Hmm, die twins... Im Endeffekt werden sie sicher hinterhergehen. Genauer kann ich mich leider hier nicht aeussern... *g* Estel ist auch mein Liebling, sei also vesichert dass es einige Unfaelle schon noch geben wird!
Mystic Girl1 - Was, der Elb war nicht unter'm Weihnachtsbaum? Dann muss er entkommen sein - ich hatte dir doch einen schoenen mit 'ner roten Schleife um den Hals geschickt... Zu dumm. Ich habe sehr schoene Geschenke bekommen. *knuddelt ihre neue Live CD* Sehr schoene. Dass du die Finsterlinge magst, ist doch wirklich schoen. Ich persoenlich liebe sie natuerlich auch. *knuddelt Fieslinge* LOL, 'gut organisierte Organisationen'? So koennte man das in der Tat sagen - wie weit kaemen sie denn bei Legolas und Aragorn auch ohne? Und du hast wahrscheinlich recht: Die Waechter haben Estel nur reingelassen, damit nicht noch mehr Ranger auftauchen - Recht haben sie! Einer ist mehr als genug! *g*
Carla - LOL, die Boesewichter scheinen ja einen richtigen Fanclub zu bekommen! Na ja, ich mag sie ja auch! *knuddelt Fieslinge* Danke fuer deine Komplimente. *rot werd* Ist immer schoen zu hoeren, dass jemand meine OCs mag. *g* Ich persoenlich liebe diese Szenen, in denen Aragorn ganz koeniglich und so wird - ich musste einfach eine reinbringen. *knuddelt* Danke fuer die Review!
Liin Sivi - *bows* Thank you! It's great to hear that you like my OCs, I'm always worried about them, at least a bit. Frankly, I feel sorry for them as well - anyone who has to put up with an ill-tempered Legolas, no matter for what reasons, can be sure of my sympathy. *g* LOL, you're right, my villains do indeed tend to have 'conversations' or 'discussions' with their captives. Never fear, both of our intrepid heroes will at some point be involved in one. *evil grin* And you're right again, one wouldn't even notice if Teonvan suffered some brain damage. There's not much to damage anyway. Btw, there's nothing wrong with your review's length! Thanks!

Once again a Happy New Year to all of you! I wish you a very successful, happy and ... *insert special wish here* ... 2004! *huggles readers*