Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.
A/N:
It is very nice to hear that you liked the talking imaginary squirrels. Squirrels can be vicious beasts, especially the talking ones, and can be truly dangerous when they feel insulted. *nods* Believe me, people, they're evil. Especially the grey ones.
*blinks* Oookaaaaay, let's just pretend I never said that, right? I don't know what I was thinking either... *g* Be that as it may, I think I have to apologise that this chapter is later than I wanted it to, even though I have to stress that I didn't post _too_ late. College is rather chaotic right now, and it's very well possible that I'm going to post every six rather than every five days. I'm sorry about that, and I promise that, barring an earthquake (which we don't have here), a family emergency (which does happen from time to time) or a pipe burst (which we did have on Sunday), it will never be longer than six days. Really. *crosses fingers behind her back and smiles reassuringly*
Oh, and let me just say that "The Last Samurai" is a really good movie. I am not a great Tom Cruise fan and never will be, I fear, but he wasn't too bad, and the movie itself was very good. I enjoyed it quite a lot, even though it's not exactly the most cheerful movie ever produced.
Well, to the more important things. Even if it's a little bit later than I wanted, the next chapter's here, and yes, it's the one in which Celylith makes a reappearance and the twins arrive, don't worry. *g* I missed them too. *huggles elven twins and Celylith* I have to announce that there'll be no Aragorn in this chapter - I know, I know, I'm evil. He'll be back next chapter, don't worry. And we still have lots of elf musings, the arrival of the two most annoying elven twins of all times, a rather stressed reborn elf lord and much more. *g*
Have fun and review, please!
Chapter 12
Night was falling, and darkness was slowly beginning to lay itself over the lands. It was a slow, almost painful-looking process, for it seemed that the light and with it the day was unwilling to let itself be conquered, unwilling to make way for dusk as it inevitably had to.
It was truly amazing how much different it was to the sunsets at home, Legolas thought tiredly. In Mirkwood, night was sometimes falling so quickly that you didn't even have time to get off your horse and search for a place to spend the night once you noticed the first signs of approaching darkness. Here, however, especially when you were blessed with elven eyesight, you could watch everything as if in slow motion: The lengthening of the shadows that were beginning to blend together into one formless mass, the stars that were slowly beginning to appear as the last rays of the sun faded behind the horizon, and finally the moon that rose silently and cast its silver light over the lands.
It was something he had never really thought about, he realised, but now he had precious little to do but watch his surroundings. It was a situation about which he was indeed not happy, and yet a situation he was unable to change as he had found out in the past three days – uncomfortably and sometimes painfully.
The elven prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a part of him still remaining alert and ready to act should a chance to escape present itself – not that he expected it to. It never did. Nothing of importance had changed during the past few days: He was still captive of these people for whom his feelings had undergone a considerable change however. He didn't simply dislike them anymore; he was beginning to loathe them.
No, that wasn't entirely true, he corrected himself after a moment, he did still dislike them, some more than others, the antipathy he felt for them was merely being dwarfed by the loathing that bubbled inside his chest like an ill-humoured dragon. At first, he had merely loathed Teonvan and his lieutenants who were, as he had quickly found out, just as despicable as their superior, but he was beginning to loathe the whole lot of them, from Reran to the lowest and most unimportant member of the troupe.
He loathed them for the way they bragged about having managed to shoot his friends, he loathed them for boasting that they had outwitted the Elvenking and his warriors, he loathed the way they looked at him as if he were a special prize they had caught, a rare animal of some sort, and, most of all, he loathed them for not giving him any chance to demonstrate to them just how stupid they were to have done all the aforementioned things.
Legolas opened his eyes again and let them wander over the small camp that had been pitched about half an hour ago, idly wondering how long it would take Teonvan to finish his discussion with Reran this evening. The elf growled inwardly and had to consciously stop himself from clenching his bound hands into tight fists. Teonvan had quickly turned out to be the most loathsome, twisted and simply stupidest human Legolas had ever had the misfortune to meet.
In fact, he amended, he was rather sure that he was the most loathsome, twisted and simply stupidest being he had ever had the misfortune to meet, and that meant quite a lot in the elven prince's opinion. He had, after all, met several dwarves and a multitude of orcs in his life, and until now he had thought that title to be reserved for one of them, most probably for Glóin, one of King Dáin's advisors he had met during their journey to Dale and Erebor. But no, Teonvan topped all of them, and was definitely worthy of that particular title.
The elf shifted slightly to the side, leaning back a little bit further against the rock at his back, and noticed to his dissatisfaction that his guards' eyes followed his every movement. Wonderful, he thought darkly, even after three days the men's attention hadn't waned a bit. They were still eyeing him as sharply and unerringly as hawks, and had until now shown no inclination to change that behaviour in the slightest.
These people were indeed professionals, as proven by the fact that they had really managed to get out of Mirkwood, a fact about which Legolas was still slightly shaken when he was perfectly honest. In truth, he hadn't expected them to get further than to the forest's edge, but that belief had begun to wane until it had disintegrated completely when he had realised that Reran made his men leave false trails, a painstaking and tedious work which the others had done without even complaining once. Reran did indeed know what he was doing, and his men seemed to trust his decisions inexplicably, something that proved that he was truly an excellent commander, something for which Legolas would have given him some credit under any other circumstances.
Now, however, he was not in the mood to give Reran credit for anything, least of all for his leadership, and still, the fact that they had managed to escape the woods of his home alive could not be denied. One and a half days ago they had crossed from the outer edges of Mirkwood into the open land south of Lake-town and had begun to follow the Celduin downstream, and by now Legolas knew that his father's warriors wouldn't be able to catch up with them in the near future, and a small voice inside his head had begun to whisper that they wouldn't catch up with them at all.
These humans, Legolas thought darkly, were a puzzling mix of incredibly lucky and competent. This little stunt of theirs would never have been successful had it not been snowing so heavily – it still was, actually. Snow was still falling, though not as heavily as during the past days and less and less the further away the more distance from Mirkwood they gained. It was in fact as if a huge, grey cloud had hung over Mirkwood to aid the men's escape, once again proving something Legolas had been suspecting for a long time, to be precise ever since he had met the twins and then Aragorn: The Valar hated him.
He didn't really know what he had done to deserve such sentiments, but it was the only possible explanation for all this, and he had had more than enough time to think about it in the past few days. If not for the snow, the patrols would have caught up with them a long time ago, and he would be at home instead of sitting here bound in the cold snow surrounded by men who had, on the average, the intelligence and manners of ill-bred goblins.
His thoughts were dangerously close to sliding off into contemplations of what-could-have-been-if-only, and so fixed them onto something much more rewarding: Imagining how he would kill Teonvan once he managed to get away from here, a possibility that was becoming more and more unlikely the more time passed if he was perfectly honest with himself. Still, it was indefinitely more entertaining, because Teonvan had managed something only few people had ever achieved: He had made Legolas hate him with all his heart.
Except for orcs, spiders and other servants of the Dark One, the elven prince could remember rather few people he had truly hated, had hated with a passion and so much that he would have taken any and every chance to kill them. There had been a few, yes, and most of them had been men he had met in the past two years and who were dead now, but Teonvan was a special case. Truthfully, Legolas was at a loss to explain why he did hate the man, for he had met other men he had loathed at first glance, men who had hurt him or his friends much worse than Teonvan had until now.
Still, every time Teonvan came near him a shudder raced across his back, a shudder Legolas was helpless to suppress or explain. The worst day until now had been the second day, the day before yesterday, when Teonvan had been in charge of his guards. The men had obviously been too afraid of Teonvan to protest or say anything when the commander had made sure that the elven prisoner suffered some … "accidents" during the day, for example stumbling and falling down continuously when they had stopped for a short rest.
It hadn't been much more than a nuisance, really, for the elven prince had sustained no wounds other than cuts and bruises and the worst that had been hurt had definitely been his pride, for wood-elves never stumbled and fell down, but by the end of the day Legolas had been more than tired of it. Worse than the physical discomfort of being thrown to the ground all the time and the humiliation that came from being picked off the same by his guards had been the look on the man's face every time he had looked down on his captive who had been lying in the snow.
Legolas shuddered inwardly, for the moment very glad that the darkness hid his features. He had seen that look before, on other beings' faces, but never quite in this intensity. It had been like a fire, a dark, obsessed fire that flickered in Teonvan's eyes, a fire that had burned more brightly every time quickly hidden pain had flickered over his captive's face. The small spark of fear once again grew inside the prince's chest, and he ruthlessly crushed it. He couldn't allow himself to grow afraid of these people now, or they would have already won.
Still, he had never seen such an absolute joy on anyone's face when inflicting pain on another, never, not once in his more than 2500 years. No, he amended thoughtfully, that wasn't entirely true, he had never seen it directed so exclusively at him, for a lack of better word. He was no stranger to cruelty, and had seen more than once what orcs, men and even elves could do to others, be they of their kind or not.
There had been several times in the past when he had been in situations similar to this one, like the one time about eight hundred years ago when Celylith and he had been captured by orcs and had had to endure their "hospitality" for nearly two days until Glónduil and the rest of their patrol had been able to find and free them, or, much more recently, the time Aragorn and he had spent in the captivity of Adruran's men, the men who they had ran into during their visit to Lake-town and Dale.
There was a difference though, and that was that those times his captors hadn't been interested in him as a person but rather in him as a member of his race, as an elf. For the orcs all that mattered had been that he was an elf, and the same went for the men who they had encountered on the slopes on the Lonely Mountain. They had been trying to hurt him, yes, but they had only tried to hurt him because he was one of the Eldar; if he would have been a man or of any other race, he would have lost quite a lot of his fascination and appeal, he was sure about it.
Teonvan, however, was different. It probably added to his enjoyment that he was one of the Firstborn, but Legolas had the feeling that it wasn't really important to him, for whatever reasons. All that seemed to matter to the man was to see him hurt and in pain, him and not an elf, and that was a situation he was rather unprepared to deal with, since he could simply not find a reason for it. Yes, he had bested him in a fight and they had traded some insults, but in the elven prince's experience that was hardly enough to want to see the other tormented to death, a wish that was clear to see in Teonvan's eyes. Then again, a small voice in his head added thoughtfully, it might very well be that Teonvan was mad. Mad people couldn't exactly be expected to behave reasonable, could they?
Soon he was contemplating just how mad Teonvan was – he was still not sure whether he was completely insane or not – and yet he found himself distracted continuously by a low, almost inaudible voice in his head that whispered that he was missing something important, something that had to do with a thing he had thought about just now. Legolas frowned inwardly. Had it been connected to the orcs Celylith and he had encountered all these years ago or to the men they had run into at Erebor? But how could either be relevant to his current situation?
He thought about it for some time longer, but his thoughts kept returning to Teonvan and that glint in his eyes, and soon he forced himself to abandon that train of thought altogether. If there was anything he needed to remember, it wouldn't help trying to force the issue now, that was something he had learned long ago. He would remember, eventually, and the only thing he would accomplish now was to push the memory that wanted to surface even further to the back of his mind. Besides, Teonvan was less of a problem now, and he refused to think about him any longer than he absolutely had to.
After that first day – when Legolas had been rather close to losing his temper and doing something rash and ill-advised to Teonvan he would undoubtedly have been made to regret later – Reran had taken his second-in-command aside, looking none too pleased indeed. Overheard only by Legolas the captain had told Teonvan in no unclear terms what would happen to him if he didn't stop harassing their prisoner, and during the past two days Cendan and his men had unobtrusively but firmly made sure that the dark haired commander didn't come too close to him.
All in all, it was a situation the fair haired elf could very well live with, even though Teonvan had obviously been not happy about the development, which of course made it even more enjoyable to Legolas, and, apparently, the entire camp. Tempers had been running high in the past two days, and Reran and Teonvan were disappearing more often to discuss things of late – the human captain was beginning to lose his patience with the younger man, and more threats and barely hidden insults were uttered during these meetings. Had Legolas not been so involved in all this, he would have been greatly amused by the men's behaviour and would have thought it highly entertaining to watch how they latched onto each other's throat, but the way things were at the moment, he did not think it overly funny at all.
Movement to his right drew the elven prince out of his thoughts, and he raised a mocking, amused eyebrow when Teonvan appeared at the other side of the camp, obviously anything but happy. A deep frown creased the man's shallow face, and when Legolas saw the angry, frustrated gleam in the other's eyes, he couldn't quite hide the small grin that was forming at the corners of his lips. He didn't know what it was that had put him into such a bad mood, but anything that made Teonvan unhappy made him very happy in return.
Teonvan did of course notice the grin the captive elf wore – it would indeed have been very hard to miss, even for a half-blind troll – and his face promptly turned an interesting, rare, dark red colour. For a moment, it appeared that he wanted to come over to them, but he thought apparently better of it, his eyes straying quickly to the quiet, dark figure of Cendan who had just come over to Legolas' guards to give them last instructions for the night.
There was no outward sign that the young lieutenant had even noticed the other's presence, but his shoulders straightened almost imperceptibly and a second later he slowly raised his head to lock eyes with his superior. The younger man's face was as emotionless as always, but there was a faint, threatening air about him that even an unobservant person like Teonvan had to notice.
For a moment, the two men merely stared at each other before Reran's second-in-command averted his eyes with an impatient shake of his head and turned, heading over to one of the smaller campfires to the left and shooting both Cendan and his prisoner a last dark look before he disappeared behind a tent that was still in the process of being pitched by three men.
Legolas blinked slowly, feeling, not for the first time, rather thankful that Reran had decided to put Cendan in charge of his guards at all times. It wasn't that he liked Reran's dark haired lieutenant; he did not, in fact. Besides, he was an enigma to the elf, and as much as he tried to, Legolas didn't understand him any better now than when he had first set eyes on him. Still, he preferred his "company" to that of Teonvan, and he didn't doubt that, if it hadn't been for the man's quiet, menacing presence, he would have had many more encounters with Teonvan, no matter what Reran's orders were.
To the right, Reran had appeared now, looking just as displeased as Teonvan had only a few seconds earlier, and after a short, trivial conversation with Cendan and his men he stepped closer, looking at Legolas with dark, unreadable eyes. Legolas simply looked back at him from where he sat in the snow bound to a large rock, noting how the lieutenant and his guards withdrew slightly to give their captain the chance to speak with him in private.
Reran simply continued looking at him, and after waiting for a minute or two, the elf arched an elegant eyebrow, faint amusement mixed with annoyance sparkling in his silver-blue eyes.
"Is there anything you wanted, Master Human?"
The human captain's expression darkened, and Legolas realised, a little too late, that he should probably not antagonise the only person in this camp who was saving him from serious bodily harm.
"I can almost understand him," Reran growled, taking a step closer and crouching down to survey his captive's scratched and bruised face more closely.
Reran grabbed the unresisting elf's chin and turned his head from side to side, studying his face. The bruises Teonvan had put there after the fight had already healed, but new ones had appeared along with cuts and some welts – he would have to talk with Teonvan about that, he decided. Some of them the elf might have received from the other men and perhaps even from Cendan and his guards (and he might even have deserved them), but he seriously doubted they were beating the prisoner so systematically. The elf tried to wrench his face out of his grasp, and Reran released his chin, still not taking his eyes off the captive's face who was now wearing a definitely contemptuous expression.
"I would be careful with my words if I were you, Master Elf," he said in a deceivingly friendly tone of voice. "At the moment I am unwilling to grant Teonvan's requests, but given the proper encouragement I might be willing to reconsider my position."
The blonde elf raised both eyebrows now and cocked his head slightly to the side, his hair that had come loose of its small braids falling forward a little.
"Is that so?"
"Aye," Reran nodded seriously as if talking to a good friend, apparently not perturbed by the elf's answer. "That is so." The man's brown eyes narrowed for a moment, and after a short, heavy silence he asked, "What is your name, elf?"
"My name?" Legolas repeated blankly. These people had captured him three days ago and had never been interested in his name at all, and now they wanted to know what he was called? "What does it mean to you?"
"Nothing," Reran shook his head, "I simply like to know whom I am dealing with. Besides, I grow tired of calling you 'elf', as do you, I assume. Unless you provide me with a more fitting alternative though, I don't think I will have any other choice but to continue doing so."
The elf looked evenly at the man, his thoughts racing. Was this some kind of trick? Were they suspecting who he was after all? For a moment, Legolas didn't answer, but he decided quickly that not answering was definitely not an attractive possibility as he watched the impatience make a reappearance on the human captain's face. It appeared that Reran was already in a bad mood, and, to be perfectly honest, he didn't really want to find out what the man would do if his mood worsened further.
"I asked you a question, elf. You aren't hiding something from us, are you?" the man asked when Legolas failed to answer, a curious light appearing in his eyes. "Because if that were so, I would have to find out what it is. We have still more than eight days' journey ahead of us; more than enough time for some serious conversations. I don't think you would enjoy that experience one bit."
Annoyance and the will to hurt him if he gave him even the slightest reason was visible in the man's eyes, and Legolas decided that he did not want that to happen if it was somehow avoidable.
Prompted by another dark look full of barely controlled annoyance, Legolas opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Lasseg. My name is Lasseg. Now that we are properly introduced: What does your lord want with me? Where are you taking me?"
Legolas clamped his mouth shut, shocked by his own words. Had he really told the man what he thought he had told him? Had he really told him his name was Lasseg? O Elbereth, was he insane? What had he been thinking?
Reran inclined his head mockingly, something that looked like amusement flickering over his face before it disappeared quicker than even an elven eye could follow.
"Let me give you a piece of advice then, Lasseg: Do not provoke Teonvan. He is not a self-controlled man, and if you stress your luck with him I will not always be there to protect you – assuming that I would want to in the first place. I do not look kindly onto entertainment of the sort he craves, but if you do not learn to hold your tongue I might make an exception." The man gave him a last, mocking nod and rose to his feet again. "A pleasant night to you, Lasseg."
The man was already turning around when Legolas' voice interrupted him, carrying a steely edge that had stopped several of his father's councilmen in mid-tirade more than once in the past.
"You did not answer my questions, human. Who is your lord? Why did you attack me and my men? Where is your home? In Rhûn? Is that where we are going? Further to the east?"
Reran slowly turned around, stony-faced at the mention of his liege as he looked down on his captive who he knew wouldn't live long once they reached their home.
"You are right. I did not."
Without another word the man turned back around and had soon disappeared between the rest of the men that were teeming in the camp, busy with kindling fires and preparing meals. Legolas looked after him for quite a long time, wondering about the look that had been visible in the human's eyes for a second before he had turned around and disappeared. He hadn't really expected the man to answer him – in fact, he would have been greatly surprised if he had – but that look in his eyes…
The elf continued staring into nothing, only faintly noticing that the four men who had been assigned to guard him tonight were drawing closer to him again, forming a tight circle around him like every night. If he didn't know better, he would say that there had been loathing and distaste among the fear that had been visible when Legolas had mentioned the men's lord; something that didn't put his mind at ease at all. These feelings hadn't been aimed at him, so they could only mean that, whatever was waiting for him at the end of this journey, it was highly unpleasant indeed, and worse enough to disgust even a battle-hardened man as Reran.
Slowly, Legolas' eyes travelled over his guards, scrutinising every single one of them for several minutes, long enough to make several of them shift under his relentless elven stare. This had gone on far too long now; he wouldn't allow them to bring him in front of their honourless lord like a caught animal! He wouldn't allow them to succeed in their endeavour, whatever it may be exactly, and he would most certainly not allow them to get away with what they had done to his friends!
Very well, he finally thought, if he couldn't escape at night, he would have to think of something else. He didn't necessarily have to escape; perhaps it was even enough to delay their journey, just enough so that eventual pursuers would be able to catch up with them; perhaps his father's guards or Aragorn were already on their trail…
Perhaps, he grimaced inwardly, and perhaps not. Then again, he would personally burn his bow if Aragorn was still at the palace; if he knew that reckless, thick-headed ranger at all he would already be out in Mirkwood doing Valar-know-what…
These contemplations brought him back to what had shocked him earlier, and even now it was enough to colour his cheeks (which were luckily hidden in the darkness) a dark crimson. A Elbereth, he must have suffered a sudden bout of madness! Perhaps that one blow to the head he had received from one of the guards earlier today had been a little harder than he had first thought? Had there been something in what little food he had been given? Were the men poisoning him?
Legolas closed his eyes, inwardly hearing Aragorn's mocking laughter that was soon joined by Celylith's, the twins' and every other person's he knew; he flatly refused to think about what his father would say to this. What in the name of the One had he been thinking? Why hadn't he thought of another name? There were hundreds of elven names to choose from, and all he had been able to come up with was Lasseg?
The fair haired elf beat his head ever so softly against the rock at his back. Lasseg was a form of the elven word "lass", meaning leaf; a part of his own name, by the way. The bad part about it, though, was that it was the diminutive form of the word; Lasseg meant, literally, "Little Leaf".
So, essentially, Legolas concluded despairingly, the thought filling him with far more dread and fear than his current situation, he had just told Reran that his name was Leafie.
Aragorn and Celylith would never let him forget this when they found him, never.
Many miles to the west, Celylith sat in front of a small fire and brooded.
That was, of course, not the word he would have chosen to describe his current occupation, since young elf lords did not brood. Young elf lords never brooded, that was at least what his father had told him more times than he could count – he had, in fact, lost count after his first two hundred years of existence.
No, young elf lords did not brood; they thought about things, they contemplated things, in a most dignified manner of course. And right now, he was contemplating why he was feeling as if he shouldn't be here.
That was, of course, a most ridiculous feeling, for he was a warrior of Mirkwood and son of one of the king's most important advisors. If he wasn't entitled to be here, then who was? Then again, he corrected himself, it wasn't as much that he felt that he shouldn't be here; he felt more as if he should be somewhere else, preferably at home, preferably anywhere where Legolas and Aragorn were.
He had the distinct feeling that they were in trouble; it wasn't even a feeling anymore, it was certainty. He knew they were in trouble, and he also knew that he was at the most useless place imaginable at the moment, namely still a day's journey to the west of the palace. Another thing Celylith knew was that he had been travelling as fast as he had been able, and he had even taken his leave from Beorn earlier than had been planned, and, if he was honest with himself, earlier than had been courteous.
Still, that knowledge did nothing to lessen the guilt that tore at his heart, guilt that told him very clearly that he should never have trusted Legolas to look after himself and the ranger and that he shouldn't have allowed himself to be sent on this little errand. He should have known that his prince was unable to spend more than two days in a row without getting himself and/or others into deadly peril, and he should have remained at his side no matter what. Perhaps he would have been able to help him, to somehow avert some of the danger, perhaps…
Perhaps, he snorted softly, perhaps indeed. More likely was however that he would have been dragged down with Legolas into whatever dark pit of danger and doom the prince was throwing himself (not falling, mind you) this time, and would have been more of a burden than an asset – just like the last time. The last time his lord had truly, urgently needed his assistance he had been unconscious, unable to help anyone, not even himself – of precious little help had he been then, indeed. It was something he still hadn't forgiven himself; if he hadn't got himself wounded he would have been able to protect Legolas and that stubborn ranger…
Celylith quickly shook his head; this was definitely bordering on brooding now. He wouldn't spend the night with remembering past darkness and contemplating what would have been if things had been different. It would serve to help neither him nor anyone else, and it would only depress him further than he already was. He had even kindled a small fire tonight, something that usually only the stupidest and most masochistic people did in the woods of his home – all in an attempt to drive off the dark shadows of memories and fears that had been creeping up on him for several days now.
Well, as be that as it may, he had left the house of the skin-changer yesterday morning, courtesy or not, after he had been battling an uneasy, dark feeling for nearly a day. He truly didn't know why he was having these feelings, they had suddenly been there, as if someone or something had thrown a switch inside his head and turned them on. He had been planning to stay with Beorn and his family longer, to exchange the latest news and talk about the orc movement close to the Great River, but he hadn't been able to bear these forebodings for long.
Beorn had apparently not been hurt or aggrieved; the only person who had very much lamented his early departure had been Beorn's son Grimbeorn, who was still an adolescent, at least Celylith thought so. He found it hard to determine a human's age or maturity, and it was even harder with skin-changers, who were quite a bit different than your usual edain, but men nonetheless.
So, grown-up or not, Grimbeorn had been rather disappointed to see him go so soon, and had even accompanied him for some hours when Celylith had left his father's house yesterday morning. They must have presented a queer picture indeed, the silver haired elf mused, an elf on a rather nervous horse and a young, but already huge black bear that been jumping around playfully, trying to catch the snowflakes that still floated gently to the ground.
No, Celylith decided with a small smile, Beorn's son was definitely not grown-up. He had never seen Beorn behave like this, which didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed the youth's company. Celylith still thought it strange to talk to someone who was a young man in the one moment and a huge bear in the next, but Grimbeorn was quick-witted and merry, and the elf had enjoyed his company greatly.
They had parted yesterday afternoon, still several hours from the beginning of the Forest Gate that marked the beginning of the Elf-path that led to King Thranduil's halls. After much arguing about whether the younger being would be allowed to accompany him further – he would not – Grimbeorn had relented and had trotted off and disappeared in the swirling snow masses, once again in the form of a great bear.
Celylith leaned back a little, his thoughts far away from the small clearing he was camping in at the moment. He thought about adding some more fuel to the fire, but decided against it quickly, preferring to let it slowly go out. The fire didn't seem to help at all; the dark feelings of fear, dread and doom were growing instead of diminishing, and therefore he could just as well do without a fire that posed a serious safety risk, after all. That it was not wise to light fires in Mirkwood at night was something a wood-elf learned very early – those who didn't usually got eaten by spiders, wargs or other foul things.
That thought served to bring a small smile to Celylith's lips. He wouldn't exactly mind if spiders made an appearance; he had always been greatly fascinated by the huge, multi-legged beasts, and contrary to the rest of Mirkwood's population he only killed them if he didn't have any other choice. He would love to see his ex-pet Wilwarin again, the little spider he had saved last year; saved, he emphasised mentally, not kidnapped.
He had learned a great many things about the arachnid's race in the short time he had been able to look after her, but when she had continued growing at an alarming rate Legolas had forced him to give her up, something he still hadn't forgiven the fair haired elf. In the process of bringing her deeper into the woods and setting her free Legolas, the twins, Aragorn and he had nearly been eaten by Wilwarin's colony – something that the others still hadn't forgiven him, a rather petty reaction now that he thought about it.
That was what was causing the problems between their two races, he nodded to himself: The spiders' habit of trying to eat every elf they laid eyes on. If they could somehow get past the whole biting-and-weaving-into-a-cocoon-for-later-consumption-part, he was sure they would be able to find a way to communicate, and, eventually, to co-exist.
Celylith shook his head resignedly. It would never come to that, he knew that deep in his heart, and unless the fascinating, amazingly beautiful arachnids underwent a profound change of heart, the time would never come when the call "Yngyl!" did not cause a wood-elf to reach for his weapons.
A shame, he thought darkly, it would be so interesting to see what they could learn from each other…
His considerations were interrupted when the forest suddenly grew silent – well, not exactly silent, but silent to a Silvan elf's ears. To anyone else it wouldn't have seemed any different, but to Celylith who had spent nearly all his life under these trees it was clear that he wasn't alone.
For a moment, he remained motionless, trying to gauge from the slightly muted sounds of the forest how far away the intruders were – and there were more than one, or the forest wouldn't have fallen as silent as it had. Not far, he realised quickly and soundlessly stood to his feet, reaching for the bow he had carefully deposited next to him. His gaze briefly swept over the large bag containing medicines and bandages that Legolas had forced on him; it appeared as if he would have need of it after all…
That served to anger him more than the actual fact that there were intruders, most likely enemies, who were converging on his position. Legolas would be unbearable for the next few days when he heard that he had needed all the things he had put in that stupid bag, Celylith grumbled inwardly as he quickly climbed a tree and found a suitable spot from which he could watch the camp unnoticed. The elf's eyes darkened. He really hoped for whoever was coming closer that they weren't looking for trouble or injured him – he would get really, really upset if he returned to the palace sporting several bandages. Really, really, really upset.
A faint movement to the right of where he had sat earlier caught his attention, a movement that was so well-concealed and stealthy that he would almost have missed it. There was not much that escaped a wood-elf's eyes in a forest, however, and so Celylith's sharp eyes had no trouble following the shadow that became visible now that he knew what he was looking for.
Said shadow stopped and seemed to survey his camp for a time, appearing grey and elusive against the darkened tree trunks. Finally, when Celylith was almost sure that his mysterious visitor would withdraw, the shadow began to move again, skilfully winding around the trees until it entered the small circle of light that surrounded the silver haired elf's campfire.
Celylith's eyes narrowed as the sparse light revealed a tall figure wearing a grey cloak, the hood concealing the features completely. The figure raised its head a little and began to scan the trees around it, obviously knowing where the fire's owner would have taken refuge after noticing that someone was drawing closer.
That was enough for the silver haired elf, and he silently moved through the trees until he reached the one exactly behind the stranger, already suspecting whose face was hidden under that grey cloak. Careful not to make even the smallest sound, Celylith dropped onto the snow-covered ground and, grinning wickedly, took two small steps closer to the shadowy figure.
The other's head shot up while he was still taking the last step, but before the intruder had time to turn around, Celylith had unsheathed his long knife and closed the remaining distance between them in a flash. Half a second later one of his arms was wrapped around the stranger's chest from behind while his other hand pressed the razor-sharp blade of his knife against the other's throat.
"You have entered the Elvenking's realm without permission," he whispered softly in Westron, using his hardest, most dangerous voice. "Such behaviour carries the penalty of death, stranger."
The cloaked figure growled almost inaudibly, one hand slowly straying to its weaponbelt, but the movement died when the silver haired elf increased the pressure on his knife a little.
"Do it and I'll cut your throat," he informed his prisoner darkly, inwardly grinning like a maniac. That growl had dispelled the last doubts from his mind as to whom he was currently threatening with a slit throat. "You have five seconds to state your business in King Thranduil's woods." The other still made no move to answer, and so he added, now grinning broadly, "Four. Three. Tw…"
"I do not answer to fools whose faces I have yet to see," the stranger informed him coldly, the anger that radiated off his lithe form almost tangible. "We have permission to travel here, guardian, and trust me when I tell you that you would greatly regret killing me. Unhand me, now, and I may forget this whole incident. Is this Mirkwood's way of greeting her guests?"
Celylith would have loved to keep this little charade up for much longer, but he knew that he would burst like one of Mithrandir's fireworks if he had to suppress his laughter any longer.
"No, Lord Elladan, it is not. This is a special performance just for you and your brother who is undoubtedly hiding somewhere in the trees behind us, only waiting to kill the villain who dares threaten a son of Elrond."
The Noldorin elf's body stiffened in surprise, and Celylith leaned a little closer so he could watch the other's grey eyes narrow in annoyance and anger.
"Celylith," the older twin said flatly, still staring straight ahead. "I should have known."
"Yes," the silver haired elf agreed, all but doubling over with laughter. "You should have, mellon nín."
Elladan carefully turned his head to the side and gave the other elf a bright smile, a smile that looked about as genuine as gentleness would have on an orc's face.
"Kindly remove that knife from my throat, or I will do it for you."
"Oh, of course, my lord," Celylith chuckled and withdrew his dagger which was re-sheathed so quickly that even elven eyes could hardly follow. Drawing himself up to his full height and inclining his head gracefully, he added, "Welcome to Mirkwood, Lord Elladan."
"A welcome you usually show only orcs, I hope," a new voice announced, and the two elves turned around to lay eyes on Elladan's twin who was just dropping out of a tree. "If you treat every traveller like this, one needs no longer wonder why you don't get many visitors."
"I do not see your point, my friend," Celylith grinned as he grasped Elrohir's forearm in greeting. "Is there a noteworthy difference between you and orcs? Apart from the height, I mean."
"Give a wood-elf a knife and a tree and he will begin to suffer delusions of grandeur," Elladan shook his head in disgust before turning enraged eyes on his younger brother. "What kept you? You could have made your presence known at some point! He could have killed me!!"
"Ah, but then I would have missed that look of surprise on your face, dear brother," Elrohir grinned. "And a rare look it was! Besides, you know that this young one here wouldn't have killed you – I think."
For a moment, all three of them glared at each other before they began to grin, merriment creeping into grey and dark blue eyes.
"It is good to see you again, mellon nín!" Elrohir declared finally and clapped the silver haired elf's on the back. "Where is that princeling you insist on escorting all the time? Is Estel with you as well?"
Celylith shook his head and invited the twins to step closer to the slowly dying fire, not missing the disappointment that flickered over both elves' faces at that small movement.
"No, I am alone. I am returning from an errand for the king; a visit to Beorn. Your brother and the prince are back at the palace, or so I hope."
"So you hope?" Elladan raised a dark eyebrow and fixed half-amused, half-worried eyes on the other elf. "What has happened now? Why did they agree to stay behind?"
Celylith looked from one twin to the other with wide eyes. This conversation was not at all going into the desired direction.
"Nothing," he said quickly, his eyes already travelling over the trees in an attempt to identify the most suitable escape route. The twins wouldn't be happy to hear that the only reason why Aragorn and Legolas had – hopefully, he repeated inwardly – remained at the palace was that they had crashed a pair of sledges and impaled themselves on innocent trees. "Nothing happened. They are fine."
The twins traded a look, their dark hair in stark contrast to the muted whiteness of their snow-covered surroundings.
"And 'fine' would be whose definition of their state of health? Yours? Theirs? Hithrawyn's?" Elladan inquired, folding his arms across his chest.
Celylith felt his lips twist into a strained smile, contemplating if he would be able to make it into a tree before one of them grabbed him. Probably not, he decided after a second. Judging by the gleam in the twins' nearly identical eyes, they were prepared for exactly such an action.
"Everyone's definition, my friends," he replied vaguely, still smiling brightly at the two clearly suspicious Noldor. "They heal quickly enough, after all."
In the moment the words were leaving his mouth, Celylith realised what he was saying. He hurriedly closed his mouth and lifted his chin, decidedly ignoring the twins' eyebrows that rose simultaneously to dizzying heights. He wouldn't say another word, and there was no way they were going to make him.
Elrohir's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to the silver haired elf who promptly took a step backwards.
"What do you mean, mellon nín?" he asked in a friendly tone of voice. "What wounds did they need to recover from? What trouble did Legolas and Estel get themselves into this time?"
"What trouble have you allowed them to get themselves into?" Elladan corrected, eyes beginning to gleam threateningly.
Panic flickered to life in the silver haired elf's heart, and Celylith raised both hands in a pacifying gesture, his resolve to remain silent forgotten in the face of the brothers' wrath.
"I?" he asked unbelievingly. "I? They do not need anyone to get them into trouble, least of all me! Besides, I am not their nursemaid! That is an outrageous accusation you raise, sons of Elrond!"
"Not nearly as outrageous as their complete lack of manners," a soft voice commented to their right, and all three of them whirled around, hands on the hilts of their swords and knives before they had even turned half-way.
Instead of an orc or something similar as Celylith had firmly believed he would see – disaster followed any son of Elrond wherever he went, that was something he had learned the hard way – his eyes came to rest on a small group of elven warriors that stood at the edge of their small clearing, their horses just visible behind them. Most of them were dark haired like the Lord of Imladris and his children and wore amused expressions, but at the front stood a tall, golden haired elf Celylith knew only too well. And said elf, he added inwardly, did not look amused in the slightest.
The silver haired elf gulped and quickly bowed his head. And here he had thought this evening couldn't get any worse! He should have remembered the twins' escort; a fine warrior of Mirkwood he was!
"Lord Glorfindel," he said with reverence, meaning every bit of it. Lord Elrond's blonde advisor was a living legend, and to quite a few young elves he had been and still was a sort of childhood hero, something that just might have been in case for Celylith as well, for a few centuries maybe. Not more. "Forgive me, I did not know the Lords Elladan and Elrohir travelled in your company. I have greeted you poorly indeed."
"You could not have known, guardian" the golden haired elf shook his head slightly. "We were looking for a place to make camp when we spied your fire through the trees; and besides, I would have completely understood had you cut their throats. To sneak up on a wood-elf's camp under the trees of his home is foolishness, as I have told them."
Celylith would almost have blushed, something that only over 2500 years of practice prevented. Had that been a praise? From Lord Glorfindel of Rivendell? Elbereth, what a day this was turning out to be!
"You are too kind, my lord," he gave the older elf another bow. "Yet it would have been an embarrassment to my king as well as my father, and I believe Lord Elrond would have been somewhat aggrieved as well."
Glorfindel smiled widely, superiorly ignoring the dark looks both of the twins were shooting him while they helped to unload the elven party's horses.
"Yes, I believe you might be correct, young one." Blue eyes narrowed for a moment as he scrutinised the silver haired wood-elf. "Your father is Lord Celythramir then?"
"Aye, my lord, he is," Celylith nodded, knowing that his hair colour had given him away once again. There were not many silver haired elves in Mirkwood, and even less silver haired members of nobility. "I am Celylith, his son. The king, however, is stressed enough at the moment so there is no reason to add a diplomatic crisis to his troubles."
"Very considerate of you," the elf lord said wryly, wondering for a moment if Elladan's eyes would catch fire in the next few moments. Yes, he nodded inwardly. They most certainly would if the twin continued giving him such fiery looks. "But we are here to relieve your liege of some of his problems, never fear."
"Your arrival has been looked forward to by many with much anticipation," Celylith agreed with a small smile. "You and your men would do me an honour by sharing my fire this night. There is safety in numbers after all, even more so since the shadow on our woods is lengthening."
Glorfindel didn't hesitate a moment to accept the younger elf's offer, and soon the horses had been unloaded and the fire rekindled, and soft conversation floated through the trees surrounding the small group of elves that had gathered round the dancing flames. The Noldor were recounting their small, rather relaxing encounter with some mountain goblins (relaxing for them, that was, not for the unfortunate goblins) they had had when they had crossed the Hithaeglir, the mighty mountain range of the Misty Mountains that divided the lands of Eriador and Wilderland.
The rest of the evening was spent with the recount of tales, tales of the deeds of the kings and mighty warriors of old, and both the Imladris elves and their Silvan companion did their best to remember tales in which their respective peoples had figured most prominently.
Shortly before midnight, one of the younger warriors ended a song about how Fingon had rescued his cousin Maedhros from the peak of Thangorodrim where Morgoth had held him captive, and after the applause had died down and the guards had been set everyone who had not been chosen to stand watch laid down to rest.
Celylith who had volunteered for the first watch gave the small clearing and his sleeping companions a last look and retreated into the shadow of the tree he had climbed some hours ago, sitting down and resting his head against the dark bark. With a smile of faint amusement he noticed that not one of the others had chosen to rest in a tree as every wood-elf would have. The silver haired elf shook his head slightly. Noldor.
He had agreed to wake one of the twins' companions later this night but had politely requested the right to take first watch – it was something he owed his lord's guests as a warrior of Mirkwood. It was not only an act of courtesy though; he knew from experience that the small hours of the night were the most dangerous, and since none of the other elves was familiar with these parts, it would be safest if he kept watch for now.
Besides, he added darkly, he did not intend to go to sleep anywhere where the twins could reach him. He had got to know them rather well during the past two or three years and especially last autumn when they and Lord Elrond had stayed in Mirkwood while Aragorn had been recuperating, and if he knew them at all, they wouldn't have forgiven him the little trick he had played on them.
While he was still contemplating how it came that the two of them were so vengeful, a small sound to his right caught his attention. He quickly scanned the camp: Just as he had thought, the twins were missing.
Celylith rolled his eyes. They were just as bad as Legolas and Aragorn, or Aragorn and Legolas were just as bad as they. Or both the twins and Aragorn and Legolas had learned from each other.
"Come out now or I will put a pair of arrows through your heads," he said, turning to his right. "I am not in the mood for such games."
"Neither were we," a soft voice behind him murmured, and before the thought that the two of them must have split up had fully formed in his mind, he felt how the blade of a knife was pressed against his neck. "We weren't, were we, my brother?"
"Most definitely not," Elrohir nodded, stepping out from behind the tree at Celylith's back.
The silver haired elf rolled his eyes, inwardly deciding that there was probably nothing wrong with Legolas after all. The bad feeling he had been having had probably been about these two demons' impending arrival. He gave a small sigh. It hadn't been bad enough.
"Alright," he nodded, gazing grimly at the younger twin's widely grinning face. "You have made your point." He turned slightly so he could give Elladan a dark, threatening look. Elrond's oldest son seemed to be enjoying himself far too much, he decided. "Kindly remove that knife from my throat, or I will do it for you."
Elladan grinned as the other repeated the words he himself had spoken only a few hours ago.
"Of course, my Lord Celylith," he answered with a magnanimous smile and he quickly withdrew the dagger. "I could never refuse a request as polite or eloquent as this one."
"Eloquent. Right," Celylith snorted and rubbed his neck. "Whatever you say, my lord."
The older twin traded an aggrieved look with his brother.
"You have this horrible, insulting way of humouring people, did you know that? I honestly do not know how Legolas puts up with you."
"About as well as Lord Glorfindel puts up with you, I imagine," the other elf shot back, a wicked glint appearing in his midnight-blue eyes. "I pity him. Truly, I do."
"You would," Elrohir declared with an obviously heartfelt headshake of disgust as he plopped down onto the snow next to the wood-elf. "In fact, I think that it's us who are in need of your pity, mellon nín. Glorfindel has been nigh unbearable since we set out from Rivendell more than a week ago."
"Who wouldn't be," Celylith mumbled under his breath, shuddering at the mere thought. Anyone who had escorted not only one but two sons of Elrond over the Misty Mountains in this weather and at this time of year and had ensured their safety could be sure of his utmost respect and awe.
"As I said," Elrohir ignored the other's comment, glaring darkly at him, "Glorfindel has been behaving like a big, blonde mother hen these past days. I do believe ada threatened him with something rather unpleasant should something happen to either of us."
"Aye," his brother nodded thoughtfully, quickly checking if said warrior was indeed asleep. "In truth, I do believe that the words 'pain', 'doom' and 'prolonged vacation to Barad-dûr' were mentioned." Elladan fell silent for a moment and frowned slightly. "Or was it Minas Morgul?"
"It hardly matters, gwanur nín," Elrohir interrupted his brother sternly before redirecting his attention to Celylith who was looking at them with somewhat wide eyes, clearly trying to determine if Elladan was being serious or not. "Let's not forget why we came here."
"Oh?" Celylith lifted a dark silver eyebrow in surprise. "You had another reason than to torment me?"
"Of course," Elladan nodded, and on an unspoken signal both of them edged closed to the wood-elf whose eyes widened only further. "You never answered our question."
"Question?" the younger elf repeated faintly in a desperate attempt to stall. "What question?"
Elrohir smiled benignly at him, something that served to unsettle Celylith even more.
"Yes, Celylith, our question. You were in the process of explaining to us what trouble our reckless brother had got himself into this time."
"Into what trouble you have allowed him to get himself into this time," Elladan corrected once again. He too smiled friendly at the silver haired elf on whose face a definitely despairing expression was beginning to spread. "And after that, my friend…"
"…you will tell us exactly what happened during your little trip to Esgaroth and Dale. In detail. The reports we received can simply not be true. Things like those do not happen, not even to Estel," Elrohir finished his brother's sentence.
The silver haired elf consciously stopped himself from pressing his back against the bark of the tree in an attempt to put more distance between him and the twins; a most undignified behaviour indeed. This was going to be a long night…
He forced himself to smile as well, a smile that looked more than a little bit strained. The twins were looking at him expectantly, and with a last, desperate look at the sleeping camp he opened his mouth to answer.
"Would you like to bet on that, my friends?"
The twins merely gave him their father's look, and that was the moment Celylith corrected himself with a tired mental sigh.
This was going to be a very, very long night.
TBC...
Eldar - 'People of the Stars', elves
edain - humans, men
yngyl (pl. of ungol) - spiders
mellon nín - my friend
ada - father (daddy)
gwanur nín - my (twin) brother
Before you say it: I know that, technically, Maedhros and Fingon weren't 'real' cousins since Fëanor and Fingolfin were only half-brothers, but it's close enough for me. And one other thing: Grimbeorn is canon, I did not make him up. I've always thought it sad that no-one mentioned poor Beorn's family, so I thought I should. *g* Okay, the next chapter should be here Tuesday or Wednesday, I promise I'll do my best to make it Tuesday, but no guarantees, sorry. I won't state again that reviews encourage me because I think I'm beginning to insult your intelligence, right? *g*
Additional A/N:
Aratfeniel - You wanted to see Teonvan yell at him? Hmm, I always thought that Teonvan was more the hissing/speaking-in-a-friendly-voice-kind of guy. I think that it's more Reran who would yell once he really lost his temper - I will have to think about that. *g* Thanks for the idea!
Deana - *waggles finger* Ah, you didn't pay attention. I didn't say there was no elf angst till chapter 14, I only said there wouldn't be any elf torture. That's a difference. *g* And, to be perfectly honest, the way it looks right now most of it will be in chapter 15. *runs off quickly* Sorry!
Sabercrazy LOL, Hithrawyn - LOL, I'm sure that Aragorn would love to impale himself on yet another perfectly innocent tree! *g* Oh, wouldn't Hithrawyn just LOVE that? Well, yes, be assured that there won't be anything graphic. *shudders* No way in hell, actually. But I'm not yet sure if you will hate dear Teonvan the most ... *thinks for a moment* Yeah, probably. But he'll get competition soon... *evil grin* Glad to hear that you got your alter egos under control. They can be very annoying indeed. *g*'s glare of imminent DEATH? Well, I guess you could say that... *g* And yes, I think Aragorn is indeed three fries short of a Happy Meal right now - what else is new, huh? *g*
TrinityTheSheDevil - Me evil thing? *innocently* Did I miss something? What did I do now? *g* Okay, brilliant sounds much better... And you want whom to get hurt? Celythramir? Why, what has the poor elf ever done to you? *ducks Trin's giant snowball and prepares to drop a ton of snow onto her* See how you like it then!!!
Amelie - Oh, don't worry. I know all about computer/video games. They can be worse than a really good book, even though my mother never understands me when I say that... *shrugs* Wrong generation, I guess. Oh, and I do indeed remember the little Orlando Bloom thing, and I'll admit that my words were ill chosen, or rather my examples (Johnny Depp and Ian McKellen). There are loads of young, comparably inexperinced actors/actresses I DO like and whose acting ability I respect. Take Colin Farrell for example, or even a young Al Pacino or a young Jodie Foster. Al Pacino was a few years older than Orlando Bloom is now in The Godfather, and he did have considerably less acting experience. *g* Then again, Al Pacino is a god which only few people can claim. *shrugs* It all boils down to the fact that I can't stand him, I guess. *g* And yes, there'll be little torture for anyone till chapter 14, sorry. *g*
Mouse5 - Aww, thanks! It's sweet that you send me an email instead of the review (I HATE FF.net!), thanks! *huggles* It's nice to hear that you liked Thranduil, who is really not feeling so great at the moment. You're also right about the twins, who will most definitely _not_ be happy once they find out what's going on. Oh, and before I forget it: I liked the little sentence at the end, the one about the end of the world and Australia. I have to admit, I've never seen it like that before... *g*
Gwyn - Uhm, I didn't say that Celylith would get home this chapter, did I? Nope, I'm rather sure that I did not, but he's here, don't worry.. *g* And who said that Celylith even has a mind to lose? He's not really behaving like that, is he... *trails off evilly*
Sherry - Well, if you are indeed no longer readind WIP stories, then you won't read this either, but I'll take my chances. *g* And: Yes, I liked that article a lot! Who gets such crazy ideas? I have to admit that I am trying to find a way to put something like this into my next story. They could perhaps use great leaves or something? You have most definitely given me many interesting ideas... Well, thanks a lot for sending me the link, and I'm very glad you like the stories until now!
Red Tigress - I couldn't agree more, my friend. I really liked Last Samurai, it's one of these annoying movies when you KNOW that they don't stand a chance and KNOW that they're all going to die and still hope they get out of it somehow... *g* It was very sad indeed. And about the elf torture: What would you say if I said that most of it is in chapter 15? Something along the lines of "Arrrrgggghhh", right? *innocent grin*
E - Hmm, I see. The thing is that I think that he would have waited to make that decision until it was certain that the elven scouts hadn't found Legolas. I think that he would have followed sooner had they been anywhere else, but since they are in Mirkwood the chances of the wood-elves finding something is much higher than him finding something. *shrugs* That's, as I said, only my opinion. And I think that, at Amon Hen, he was also older and more confident about his abilities and all that. Be that as it may, I hope you'll enjoy the twins!
Crystal-Rose15 - So the squirrels are attacking, huh? See, I TOLD you they were sneaky and dangerous! *g* And yes, I guess Aragorn really does believe that everything's Legolas' fault. Well, he's right of course, but it's also his fault. That didn't make much sense, right? *g* And I _still_ like the 'Gruesome Twosome'. I'm rather sure Celylith is more than willing to agree by now! *g*
Calenore - Great you like the monkey comments. I can of course try to put more of them into this, but the thing is that the harder I try such things the harder it becomes... *shrugs* We'll see. And I think that Thranduil would be VERY furious, at least at first. Poor Erelas would end up in the dungeons, I'm afraid... Thanks for saying that you liked that little Thranduil scene. I was in fact not really comfortable with it - I still am not, I think. *g* Well, at least you like it. *huggles*
Fuzzy - Thank you! I like young Estel stories as well - huh, who'd have thought, I know. *g* Great to hear that you like my weird little stories - that's ALWAYS nice to hear! *g* - and thanks a lot for the review!
Suzi9 - Whohooo! Party!!! *confetti falls and Zam's orc horde appears (they throw great parties, believe me!)* Congrats! I hope the exam went well! *g* Cute, confused elven warriors, huh? Yeah, I guess there are a lot of them in Mirkwood at the moment... And I whole-heartedly agree: That stubborn pride is going to be the elves' death one of these days... Reckless creatures, really. *g* And of course you may have a talking squirrel! Everything for you! *hands her a gift-wrapped talking squirrel* Here you go! Just don't let Drákon eat it! And believe it or not, I am probably staring Ju Jitsu as well. A friend of mine knows this one dojo and since my mother's been bugging me about taking self-defence classes for ages (You know, it's such a big, dangerous city and all that! *g*) I thought it's give it a try! Would you recommend it? Apart from the knives, of course... *g* And about the languages: I haven't learned a new one in ages (if you don't count Sindarin, that is), so when I was your age, I already possessed my amazing language skills! *g* Sorry! And now you can try the "My talking squirrel ate my homework" excuse! Yay! *g*
Just Jordy - Yes, Aragorn is indeed Lord Elrond's adopted son. It's in the appendixes, let me see... Yup, it's in Appendix A. 'Then Aragorn, now being the Heir of Isildur, was taken with his mother to dwell in the house of Elrond, and Elrond took the place of his father and came to love him as a son of his own. But he was called Estel, that is "hope", and his true name and lineage were kept secret at the bidding of Elrond; for the Wise then knew that the Enemy was seeking the Heir of Isildur, if any remained upon earth.' So, it's true. *g*
Kathira - Oh, no! Don't worry! I love every single review, and would NEVER lose one of them. Trust me, it's true. You can get rather addicted to reviews, it's sad but true. *g* LOL, 'as much Aragorn angst, injury and misery as possible'? Well, I'll see what I can do about that, but rest assured that there'll be quite a lot of that. I love him to much to let him get away easily. *g* Thanks very much for taking the time to review! *huggles*
Strider's Girl - You're right, and in my opinion that's something King Thranduil should have sone a long time ago. I would have locked them in their rooms a long time ago - it appears that Thranduil and Elrond are more patient - or insane. *g* So you can buy yourself a lottery ticket? You do realise that the possibility of being hit by a meteor is higher than to win in the lottery, right? *g* Well, if you want to, keep telling me things from your life! I always enjoy hearing what's going on in other people's lives, and if you like telling me... I can't understand why either, but please, feel free to continue. *g*
Marbienl - Are you sure Elrond will forgive him? I don't know - it's the second time in less than half a year that the two have disappeared, and... Thranduil: *whimpers* Oh, I love being mean... *evil grin* And you're right, in the end the Silvan Elves will have to give him some credit. They're simply too stubborn to admit that humans are as intelligent as they are. *grimaces* Bigots. Hmm, I don't know about Hithrawyn really. I doubt that there'll ever be great love between the two of them... And such a conversation seems highly unlikely as well... And take care of Frór, dammit! I might need him later! Don't let that thing eat him!!
Sirithiliel - Yeah, I know, and I love every single one of them! I LOVE reviews!!! *g* Hmm, yeah, if the men were clever they would be fleeing in terror right about now, which proves that they're not clever. Nope, they're in fact rather stupid. And I totally agree: Pirates of the Caribbean IS great!
Louise_Oblique - I'm sorry about not having Legolas in the last chapter. The thing is that, right now, I have to cover so many angles and different points of view that I simply don't have the space to put all of them into every chapter. I hope to reduce all that in the next few chapters though. 'Hope' being the main word here... *g*
Joee1 - LOL, you really did that? That's in fact something I could very well do myself... I have done it quite a few times actually, when reading a book. *g* So, I'm a little weird myself. So, I hope you'll read this chapter right away this time, thanks for sharing that little story! It's good to know it happens to other people, too!
MerryElf - *g* Thank you! Great you liked the squirrels, and yes, Celylith is indeed in this story. Quite a few people asked if he would be; it appears that the dear elf has a few fans out there! Good for him! (Celylith: *beams*) Thanks a lot for the review!
Karone Evertree - Good to hear that you can wait till chapter 14/15. It would be too bad otherwise, since it's already written and nothing I can change. Well yes, I COULD change it of course, but that would ruin the plot and we can't have that, can we?
Orlandofan13 - Yes, it can be very confusing at first. It took me ages till I had figured out what "TBC" meant. I couldn't get it into my head. *g* Well, about the Elvish: It of course depends on what language you wish to learn. The only real thing I can tell you right now is to forget about the Grey Company's dictionary. It's incorrect, plain and simple. It's just a bad, distorted version of Quenya. *shuddders*
Snow-Glory - Well, of course they're going to get involved! Did you expect anything else? *g* Will Aragorn find Legolas before the twins find him? I won't answer that, just remember that Aragorn left a day after Legolas' captors whereas the twins _arrive_ in Mirkwood three days after Aragorn left. So, what are the chances? *g* And about the finding-out-part: Nope, I'm afraid not. Not any time soon, I'm afraid...
Halo - Well, yes, YOU would be a very happy camper too! You're weird and evil and sadistic and did I mention evil? *g* LOL, he's smiling on the inside? Yeah, I guess you could say that... *g* You're writing a new story? Really? I kinda missed it - as soon as this is up I'll go and have a look at it! Promise! Thanks a lot for your review, I hope everything's well at home! *huggles*
Grumpy - I am very glad I could make you laugh, of course. King Thranduil is to be pitied, however - poor elf, really... *pats his head in sympathy* You saw Master and Commander? Well, you're braver than I, you could pay me money and I still wouldn't go and see it. Plus, I HATE Russell Crowe, so.. *g* But the TOm Cruise movie was really good. You know, it actually had a _plot_. And a meaning! I know, it's rare enough in Hollywood movies! *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - So I see you've met with the talking squirrels, eh? They may be evil, but they're quit amusing actually - especially the way the scare Aragorn. *evil grin* Hmm, war or reviews? That's a tough choice, really, let me think ... WAR!!! Just the idea of overthrowing the One is too much fun to miss!! War!!!!!! *g* J/k, I love reviews more than mindless killing - I think. *g* *spits out confetti* Great you feel sorry for Thranduil. It was my pleasure.
Nicole - You know, there is that little thing called "irony". When I said "some elf torture" I meant in fact more than "some", but I've learned that you should never declare your intentions for your characters too openly when they're around to hear you. Elves are wicked fast, you know, and once Legolas finds out what I've planned for him and his friends.... *shakes head* Nah, that wouldn't be too good. I congratulate you on your first review, it was rather long for that! Thanks!
Zam - First: I hope you and Lina are better now. If you're not, don't come too close to me, I refuse to become ill again. Got it? *suspicious look* Good... Well, duh! Of course Aragorn's stupid, or he would never have befriended Legolas. I mean, only a really dumb or suicidal person could do that! LOL, you like it when Celythramir speaks of cruel and merciless death? Well, if that's so I'll see what I can do in the future... *g* And Erelas couldn't have gone with Aragorn, that would have been desertion! And I don't think that Thranduil is really in the mood for something like this now! *g* It's great to see that you like MInas Morgul so much - and don't worry, Celylith will get used to it too! Eventually... Huggle Larry and Lina for me!
Alisha B - Well, well, well - what have we got here? Is it an ALISHA? A member of the species everyone thought extinct since they didn't show themselves anymore? Nah, it can't be... can it? *g* But well, if you were AMBUSHED by ORCS on your way to chapter 6 it's an entirely different thing, of course. *grins and huggles* Well, I'm glad you're back, I hope your exams went well? And I couldn't agree more: Legolas needs to keep his mouth shut. I think he can't though, it's an elven genetic thing or something - I think that pride of theirs is going to get them killed one day... *g* Cut out his tongue? Well, it's an interesting idea for sure... You want me to do what? Fingernails? Hmmm, I'll think about it - perhaps a little later, somehow it's too subtle for Teonvan I think. *huggles again* Thanks for reviewing!
Tapetum Lucidum - Yeah, well, you see I have this problem at the moment. There are too many different angles and points of view to cover at the moment, so I can only have one of them in each chapter. This chapter all the Aragorn fans are going to start moaning, just you wait... *wail can be heard "WHAT?? No Aragorn??"* You see? *g* And yes, I figured that, as a human, Aragorn needed some help to escape Mirkwood. It's a fortified palace, so he can't just get up and walk off... I think. *g* Hmm, I don't know that story you quoted; it appears that Legolas does indeed inspire this kind of over-protective behaviour. Poor elfsie... *g*
Elvendancer - Hmm, I really hate to say that, but from a purely movie-point-of-view (you know, if one ignores that RotK was supposed to be Tolkien's RotK) The Last Samurai was a much better movie than RotK. I don't know why, but I even liked the fight scenes better even though they were on a much smaller scale. They were wonderfully done and exciting, whereas in RotK I've always thought things along the lines of "Oh, another 10000 orcs bite the dust - oh, there goes the computer-generated troll..." *shrugs* My opinion only, I guess. Hmm, Reran's none too happy at the moment either, believe me, I think Teonvan will be very happy though, eventually. Around chapter 14/15, to be precise... *g*
Iray Kentia Moon - Well, thank you! It's great to hear that you liked the story until now, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well! Thanks for the review!
Firnsarnien - It didn't have WHAT? The review button disappeared? O God, that's horrible! Not all people are as kind as you and send me mails instead! I will ... I will, yes, I will sue FF.net! Curse them, preciousss!! *shakes fist* And yes, of course I eat Hobbit feet! They're delicious with mint sauce! *g* LOL, and yes, OF COURSE you enjoy elf torture! You know, denial ain't just a river in Egypt and all that... *evil grin* You might just as well admit it. I'm sorry there was no Legolas in the last chapter, but I have neither the time nor the space to have both him and Aragorn in every single chapter. So I am doing it in turn right now; I _am_ hoping to return to having both of them in the same chapter soon though. *grimaces* We'll see. Okay, thanks a lot for the huge review! You're very sweet! *huggles*
NaughtyNat - *evil grin* Well, you would like the Aragorn-impaling-himself-on-the-branch-bit, wouldn't you? I would have been very much surprised otherwise... *g* Uhm, let me summarise that. You thought the scene in which dear Lomar introduced our favourite ranger to his friend, the pipe, 'cute and fluffy'?? Mate, I REALLY think you need to talk to someone and get professional help... *g* Oh, you have your GCSEs now? Good luck with that! *huggles*
Critternut - I hope you're better now? Life can be a b****, can't it? Don't worry about writing reviews, Real Life is much more important - or so it claims... *g* And I never said there wouldn't be Legolas angst till chapter 14, I said there wouldn't be Legolas torture till then. It's a difference. And, to be perfectly honest, it's more like chapter 15 now - sorry! I couldn't do anything! Not my fault! Hmm, sorry to spoil your perfect plan, but there won't be any escaping in the near future - that would ruin the whole plot. And, as I said, I don't know about the legs. Would kinda ruin it as well. *shrugs* Sorry. You're jealous because the twins take away Legolas' spotlight? Okay, mate, you REALLY have to get some help... *g*
Bailey - Uhm, yeah, well, I guess you could say that. Half-dead people tned to be not so beautiful and hot and heavens know what else... *g* Will Aragorn meet trouble in the woods? *innocent expression* Nooooooo.... Will the twins go after Aragorn? Nooooooo.... You have really weird ideas, my friend... *g* I would never make them do such things, never... *g*
Maerz - Du liest Sachen nicht am PC? Echt? Wenn ich alle fanfics ausdrucken wuerde, denen ich irgendwie folge, kaeme ich gar nicht mehr aus dem Drucken raus... Wenn man sich einmal ans Lesen am Computer gewoehnt hat, geht's eigentlich auch. *zuckt Schultern* Na ja, jeder nach seiner Facon... *g* Ich hoffe, dass du mittlerweile aufgeholt hast; ich will dich ja nicht unter Druck setzen! *g*
Cicci - *nods fervently* Thank you! That's excatly what I thought! I mean, he _knows_ he's the Heir of Isildur and all that, I think he would at least TRY to be reasonable and mature, right? Right. *g* And of course I have something up my sleeve - except several aces *g* - I love Aragorn far too much to let him get away so easily, trust me! *g* And you're right of course, I didn't create the tension and hostility between the baddies just for the fun of it. It has a reason, you'll see... Great to hear that you liked Thranduil last chapter, I'm always very nervous about writing him. He's a tough one, he is... *g*
Sammy - Well, uhm ... sorry? I really couldn't update yesterday, you know, Real Life and all that? I hope the wait wasn't too harrible, thanks for the review!
Jazmin3 Firewing - Well, to be perfectly honest it's no elf torture till chapter 15. Sorry about that, the characters once again refused to shut up. *shrugs* Blame them. And I agree, it was predictable that Aragorn would sneak out of the palace. I mean, we all knew he would do it, right? I got your Official Stamp of Approval! Wow, that means so much to me!! *huggles* Thank you!! And I would love that hiding place in your basement, but what exactly is The Thing? *g*
Sheila - *blushes* Thank you! I hope that my stories are at least a bit suspenseful - it's always quite hard to say when you already know what's going to happen - and funny - there are quite a few things that I don't think particularly funny, but you guys do and the other way round. *shrugs* Whatever. Thanks a lot for your kind words and for taking the time to review!
Armageddon5 - Hmm, I see. Could you give me an example? Or tell me the next time you don't know who is thinking/saying what? I would really like to avoid making the same mistake twice, and if you could tell me exactly what you mean I would be able to change it. *g* Thanks a lot in advance. And about the 'small background stories': I simply don't have the time or space to go into detail all the time. I am already hard-pressed to end this in the next fifteen or so chapters, and if I would start going into every little story ever mentioned I wouldn't finish this at all. If I ever have the time, I might write the troll story or how Aragorn and Legolas met, but I doubt it will be in the next few months. And there is no great story behind how Celylith and Legolas met. They were elflings, and I don't write children stories. *grimaces* I don't like children all that much, and I don't think I could write them, elven or not. *g* Thanks for the review, btw! *g*
Rabbit of Iron - So you like elf torture, brown paper packages and elves in white dresses, but no baby bunny rabbits? *blinks* Alright then... LOL, I hope you're indeed not putting the things my weird mind comes up with into practise! That would be awful; I would have inspired someone to become a psychopathic serial killer! *g* It's great to hear that you like my little non-series (don't ask me why, but I'm ver reluctant to call it a series. It sounds so overly important. *g*), and there will be probably another story after this one. That would be the sequel to the sequel to the sequel of AEFAE, I believe. *g* And I'm not only an elf torturer, I'm also a ranger torturer, let's not forget that. I am proud of my fairness. *evil grin*
Firniswin - My bio was weird? Really? I haven't changed anything for ages - must be FF.net again, curse it. It hates me, I swear it does... *g* And believe me, you're not the only one who loves Aragorn. There are quite a few people here, actually. *g* I hope I hurried enough and you didn't die waiting - it sure sounded like that! *g* And when you sent me that email, the chapter was already posted, honestly!
Iverson - Oh, I understand, don't worry. It seems that Real Life is out to get us... *g* LOL, didn't we all know that the 'idiot ranger' was going to do something like that? And I think he can't listen to other people _because_ he is an idiot ranger. Plus, it wouldn't be half as funny if he started to behave really reasonable. *evil grin* And yeah, you _might_ start sounding like a broken record. Come on, really: Do you honestly expect him something as reasonable as returning to the palace? Well? I didn't think so... *g* And don't worry, Legolas is indeed alright. A little worse for wear, but essentially alright. *g*
Once again, I'm sorry for being a day late. Don't blame me, blame Real Life. Or whichever evil entity you can think of. College is doing quite nicely for me, though. *g*
A/N:
It is very nice to hear that you liked the talking imaginary squirrels. Squirrels can be vicious beasts, especially the talking ones, and can be truly dangerous when they feel insulted. *nods* Believe me, people, they're evil. Especially the grey ones.
*blinks* Oookaaaaay, let's just pretend I never said that, right? I don't know what I was thinking either... *g* Be that as it may, I think I have to apologise that this chapter is later than I wanted it to, even though I have to stress that I didn't post _too_ late. College is rather chaotic right now, and it's very well possible that I'm going to post every six rather than every five days. I'm sorry about that, and I promise that, barring an earthquake (which we don't have here), a family emergency (which does happen from time to time) or a pipe burst (which we did have on Sunday), it will never be longer than six days. Really. *crosses fingers behind her back and smiles reassuringly*
Oh, and let me just say that "The Last Samurai" is a really good movie. I am not a great Tom Cruise fan and never will be, I fear, but he wasn't too bad, and the movie itself was very good. I enjoyed it quite a lot, even though it's not exactly the most cheerful movie ever produced.
Well, to the more important things. Even if it's a little bit later than I wanted, the next chapter's here, and yes, it's the one in which Celylith makes a reappearance and the twins arrive, don't worry. *g* I missed them too. *huggles elven twins and Celylith* I have to announce that there'll be no Aragorn in this chapter - I know, I know, I'm evil. He'll be back next chapter, don't worry. And we still have lots of elf musings, the arrival of the two most annoying elven twins of all times, a rather stressed reborn elf lord and much more. *g*
Have fun and review, please!
Chapter 12
Night was falling, and darkness was slowly beginning to lay itself over the lands. It was a slow, almost painful-looking process, for it seemed that the light and with it the day was unwilling to let itself be conquered, unwilling to make way for dusk as it inevitably had to.
It was truly amazing how much different it was to the sunsets at home, Legolas thought tiredly. In Mirkwood, night was sometimes falling so quickly that you didn't even have time to get off your horse and search for a place to spend the night once you noticed the first signs of approaching darkness. Here, however, especially when you were blessed with elven eyesight, you could watch everything as if in slow motion: The lengthening of the shadows that were beginning to blend together into one formless mass, the stars that were slowly beginning to appear as the last rays of the sun faded behind the horizon, and finally the moon that rose silently and cast its silver light over the lands.
It was something he had never really thought about, he realised, but now he had precious little to do but watch his surroundings. It was a situation about which he was indeed not happy, and yet a situation he was unable to change as he had found out in the past three days – uncomfortably and sometimes painfully.
The elven prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a part of him still remaining alert and ready to act should a chance to escape present itself – not that he expected it to. It never did. Nothing of importance had changed during the past few days: He was still captive of these people for whom his feelings had undergone a considerable change however. He didn't simply dislike them anymore; he was beginning to loathe them.
No, that wasn't entirely true, he corrected himself after a moment, he did still dislike them, some more than others, the antipathy he felt for them was merely being dwarfed by the loathing that bubbled inside his chest like an ill-humoured dragon. At first, he had merely loathed Teonvan and his lieutenants who were, as he had quickly found out, just as despicable as their superior, but he was beginning to loathe the whole lot of them, from Reran to the lowest and most unimportant member of the troupe.
He loathed them for the way they bragged about having managed to shoot his friends, he loathed them for boasting that they had outwitted the Elvenking and his warriors, he loathed the way they looked at him as if he were a special prize they had caught, a rare animal of some sort, and, most of all, he loathed them for not giving him any chance to demonstrate to them just how stupid they were to have done all the aforementioned things.
Legolas opened his eyes again and let them wander over the small camp that had been pitched about half an hour ago, idly wondering how long it would take Teonvan to finish his discussion with Reran this evening. The elf growled inwardly and had to consciously stop himself from clenching his bound hands into tight fists. Teonvan had quickly turned out to be the most loathsome, twisted and simply stupidest human Legolas had ever had the misfortune to meet.
In fact, he amended, he was rather sure that he was the most loathsome, twisted and simply stupidest being he had ever had the misfortune to meet, and that meant quite a lot in the elven prince's opinion. He had, after all, met several dwarves and a multitude of orcs in his life, and until now he had thought that title to be reserved for one of them, most probably for Glóin, one of King Dáin's advisors he had met during their journey to Dale and Erebor. But no, Teonvan topped all of them, and was definitely worthy of that particular title.
The elf shifted slightly to the side, leaning back a little bit further against the rock at his back, and noticed to his dissatisfaction that his guards' eyes followed his every movement. Wonderful, he thought darkly, even after three days the men's attention hadn't waned a bit. They were still eyeing him as sharply and unerringly as hawks, and had until now shown no inclination to change that behaviour in the slightest.
These people were indeed professionals, as proven by the fact that they had really managed to get out of Mirkwood, a fact about which Legolas was still slightly shaken when he was perfectly honest. In truth, he hadn't expected them to get further than to the forest's edge, but that belief had begun to wane until it had disintegrated completely when he had realised that Reran made his men leave false trails, a painstaking and tedious work which the others had done without even complaining once. Reran did indeed know what he was doing, and his men seemed to trust his decisions inexplicably, something that proved that he was truly an excellent commander, something for which Legolas would have given him some credit under any other circumstances.
Now, however, he was not in the mood to give Reran credit for anything, least of all for his leadership, and still, the fact that they had managed to escape the woods of his home alive could not be denied. One and a half days ago they had crossed from the outer edges of Mirkwood into the open land south of Lake-town and had begun to follow the Celduin downstream, and by now Legolas knew that his father's warriors wouldn't be able to catch up with them in the near future, and a small voice inside his head had begun to whisper that they wouldn't catch up with them at all.
These humans, Legolas thought darkly, were a puzzling mix of incredibly lucky and competent. This little stunt of theirs would never have been successful had it not been snowing so heavily – it still was, actually. Snow was still falling, though not as heavily as during the past days and less and less the further away the more distance from Mirkwood they gained. It was in fact as if a huge, grey cloud had hung over Mirkwood to aid the men's escape, once again proving something Legolas had been suspecting for a long time, to be precise ever since he had met the twins and then Aragorn: The Valar hated him.
He didn't really know what he had done to deserve such sentiments, but it was the only possible explanation for all this, and he had had more than enough time to think about it in the past few days. If not for the snow, the patrols would have caught up with them a long time ago, and he would be at home instead of sitting here bound in the cold snow surrounded by men who had, on the average, the intelligence and manners of ill-bred goblins.
His thoughts were dangerously close to sliding off into contemplations of what-could-have-been-if-only, and so fixed them onto something much more rewarding: Imagining how he would kill Teonvan once he managed to get away from here, a possibility that was becoming more and more unlikely the more time passed if he was perfectly honest with himself. Still, it was indefinitely more entertaining, because Teonvan had managed something only few people had ever achieved: He had made Legolas hate him with all his heart.
Except for orcs, spiders and other servants of the Dark One, the elven prince could remember rather few people he had truly hated, had hated with a passion and so much that he would have taken any and every chance to kill them. There had been a few, yes, and most of them had been men he had met in the past two years and who were dead now, but Teonvan was a special case. Truthfully, Legolas was at a loss to explain why he did hate the man, for he had met other men he had loathed at first glance, men who had hurt him or his friends much worse than Teonvan had until now.
Still, every time Teonvan came near him a shudder raced across his back, a shudder Legolas was helpless to suppress or explain. The worst day until now had been the second day, the day before yesterday, when Teonvan had been in charge of his guards. The men had obviously been too afraid of Teonvan to protest or say anything when the commander had made sure that the elven prisoner suffered some … "accidents" during the day, for example stumbling and falling down continuously when they had stopped for a short rest.
It hadn't been much more than a nuisance, really, for the elven prince had sustained no wounds other than cuts and bruises and the worst that had been hurt had definitely been his pride, for wood-elves never stumbled and fell down, but by the end of the day Legolas had been more than tired of it. Worse than the physical discomfort of being thrown to the ground all the time and the humiliation that came from being picked off the same by his guards had been the look on the man's face every time he had looked down on his captive who had been lying in the snow.
Legolas shuddered inwardly, for the moment very glad that the darkness hid his features. He had seen that look before, on other beings' faces, but never quite in this intensity. It had been like a fire, a dark, obsessed fire that flickered in Teonvan's eyes, a fire that had burned more brightly every time quickly hidden pain had flickered over his captive's face. The small spark of fear once again grew inside the prince's chest, and he ruthlessly crushed it. He couldn't allow himself to grow afraid of these people now, or they would have already won.
Still, he had never seen such an absolute joy on anyone's face when inflicting pain on another, never, not once in his more than 2500 years. No, he amended thoughtfully, that wasn't entirely true, he had never seen it directed so exclusively at him, for a lack of better word. He was no stranger to cruelty, and had seen more than once what orcs, men and even elves could do to others, be they of their kind or not.
There had been several times in the past when he had been in situations similar to this one, like the one time about eight hundred years ago when Celylith and he had been captured by orcs and had had to endure their "hospitality" for nearly two days until Glónduil and the rest of their patrol had been able to find and free them, or, much more recently, the time Aragorn and he had spent in the captivity of Adruran's men, the men who they had ran into during their visit to Lake-town and Dale.
There was a difference though, and that was that those times his captors hadn't been interested in him as a person but rather in him as a member of his race, as an elf. For the orcs all that mattered had been that he was an elf, and the same went for the men who they had encountered on the slopes on the Lonely Mountain. They had been trying to hurt him, yes, but they had only tried to hurt him because he was one of the Eldar; if he would have been a man or of any other race, he would have lost quite a lot of his fascination and appeal, he was sure about it.
Teonvan, however, was different. It probably added to his enjoyment that he was one of the Firstborn, but Legolas had the feeling that it wasn't really important to him, for whatever reasons. All that seemed to matter to the man was to see him hurt and in pain, him and not an elf, and that was a situation he was rather unprepared to deal with, since he could simply not find a reason for it. Yes, he had bested him in a fight and they had traded some insults, but in the elven prince's experience that was hardly enough to want to see the other tormented to death, a wish that was clear to see in Teonvan's eyes. Then again, a small voice in his head added thoughtfully, it might very well be that Teonvan was mad. Mad people couldn't exactly be expected to behave reasonable, could they?
Soon he was contemplating just how mad Teonvan was – he was still not sure whether he was completely insane or not – and yet he found himself distracted continuously by a low, almost inaudible voice in his head that whispered that he was missing something important, something that had to do with a thing he had thought about just now. Legolas frowned inwardly. Had it been connected to the orcs Celylith and he had encountered all these years ago or to the men they had run into at Erebor? But how could either be relevant to his current situation?
He thought about it for some time longer, but his thoughts kept returning to Teonvan and that glint in his eyes, and soon he forced himself to abandon that train of thought altogether. If there was anything he needed to remember, it wouldn't help trying to force the issue now, that was something he had learned long ago. He would remember, eventually, and the only thing he would accomplish now was to push the memory that wanted to surface even further to the back of his mind. Besides, Teonvan was less of a problem now, and he refused to think about him any longer than he absolutely had to.
After that first day – when Legolas had been rather close to losing his temper and doing something rash and ill-advised to Teonvan he would undoubtedly have been made to regret later – Reran had taken his second-in-command aside, looking none too pleased indeed. Overheard only by Legolas the captain had told Teonvan in no unclear terms what would happen to him if he didn't stop harassing their prisoner, and during the past two days Cendan and his men had unobtrusively but firmly made sure that the dark haired commander didn't come too close to him.
All in all, it was a situation the fair haired elf could very well live with, even though Teonvan had obviously been not happy about the development, which of course made it even more enjoyable to Legolas, and, apparently, the entire camp. Tempers had been running high in the past two days, and Reran and Teonvan were disappearing more often to discuss things of late – the human captain was beginning to lose his patience with the younger man, and more threats and barely hidden insults were uttered during these meetings. Had Legolas not been so involved in all this, he would have been greatly amused by the men's behaviour and would have thought it highly entertaining to watch how they latched onto each other's throat, but the way things were at the moment, he did not think it overly funny at all.
Movement to his right drew the elven prince out of his thoughts, and he raised a mocking, amused eyebrow when Teonvan appeared at the other side of the camp, obviously anything but happy. A deep frown creased the man's shallow face, and when Legolas saw the angry, frustrated gleam in the other's eyes, he couldn't quite hide the small grin that was forming at the corners of his lips. He didn't know what it was that had put him into such a bad mood, but anything that made Teonvan unhappy made him very happy in return.
Teonvan did of course notice the grin the captive elf wore – it would indeed have been very hard to miss, even for a half-blind troll – and his face promptly turned an interesting, rare, dark red colour. For a moment, it appeared that he wanted to come over to them, but he thought apparently better of it, his eyes straying quickly to the quiet, dark figure of Cendan who had just come over to Legolas' guards to give them last instructions for the night.
There was no outward sign that the young lieutenant had even noticed the other's presence, but his shoulders straightened almost imperceptibly and a second later he slowly raised his head to lock eyes with his superior. The younger man's face was as emotionless as always, but there was a faint, threatening air about him that even an unobservant person like Teonvan had to notice.
For a moment, the two men merely stared at each other before Reran's second-in-command averted his eyes with an impatient shake of his head and turned, heading over to one of the smaller campfires to the left and shooting both Cendan and his prisoner a last dark look before he disappeared behind a tent that was still in the process of being pitched by three men.
Legolas blinked slowly, feeling, not for the first time, rather thankful that Reran had decided to put Cendan in charge of his guards at all times. It wasn't that he liked Reran's dark haired lieutenant; he did not, in fact. Besides, he was an enigma to the elf, and as much as he tried to, Legolas didn't understand him any better now than when he had first set eyes on him. Still, he preferred his "company" to that of Teonvan, and he didn't doubt that, if it hadn't been for the man's quiet, menacing presence, he would have had many more encounters with Teonvan, no matter what Reran's orders were.
To the right, Reran had appeared now, looking just as displeased as Teonvan had only a few seconds earlier, and after a short, trivial conversation with Cendan and his men he stepped closer, looking at Legolas with dark, unreadable eyes. Legolas simply looked back at him from where he sat in the snow bound to a large rock, noting how the lieutenant and his guards withdrew slightly to give their captain the chance to speak with him in private.
Reran simply continued looking at him, and after waiting for a minute or two, the elf arched an elegant eyebrow, faint amusement mixed with annoyance sparkling in his silver-blue eyes.
"Is there anything you wanted, Master Human?"
The human captain's expression darkened, and Legolas realised, a little too late, that he should probably not antagonise the only person in this camp who was saving him from serious bodily harm.
"I can almost understand him," Reran growled, taking a step closer and crouching down to survey his captive's scratched and bruised face more closely.
Reran grabbed the unresisting elf's chin and turned his head from side to side, studying his face. The bruises Teonvan had put there after the fight had already healed, but new ones had appeared along with cuts and some welts – he would have to talk with Teonvan about that, he decided. Some of them the elf might have received from the other men and perhaps even from Cendan and his guards (and he might even have deserved them), but he seriously doubted they were beating the prisoner so systematically. The elf tried to wrench his face out of his grasp, and Reran released his chin, still not taking his eyes off the captive's face who was now wearing a definitely contemptuous expression.
"I would be careful with my words if I were you, Master Elf," he said in a deceivingly friendly tone of voice. "At the moment I am unwilling to grant Teonvan's requests, but given the proper encouragement I might be willing to reconsider my position."
The blonde elf raised both eyebrows now and cocked his head slightly to the side, his hair that had come loose of its small braids falling forward a little.
"Is that so?"
"Aye," Reran nodded seriously as if talking to a good friend, apparently not perturbed by the elf's answer. "That is so." The man's brown eyes narrowed for a moment, and after a short, heavy silence he asked, "What is your name, elf?"
"My name?" Legolas repeated blankly. These people had captured him three days ago and had never been interested in his name at all, and now they wanted to know what he was called? "What does it mean to you?"
"Nothing," Reran shook his head, "I simply like to know whom I am dealing with. Besides, I grow tired of calling you 'elf', as do you, I assume. Unless you provide me with a more fitting alternative though, I don't think I will have any other choice but to continue doing so."
The elf looked evenly at the man, his thoughts racing. Was this some kind of trick? Were they suspecting who he was after all? For a moment, Legolas didn't answer, but he decided quickly that not answering was definitely not an attractive possibility as he watched the impatience make a reappearance on the human captain's face. It appeared that Reran was already in a bad mood, and, to be perfectly honest, he didn't really want to find out what the man would do if his mood worsened further.
"I asked you a question, elf. You aren't hiding something from us, are you?" the man asked when Legolas failed to answer, a curious light appearing in his eyes. "Because if that were so, I would have to find out what it is. We have still more than eight days' journey ahead of us; more than enough time for some serious conversations. I don't think you would enjoy that experience one bit."
Annoyance and the will to hurt him if he gave him even the slightest reason was visible in the man's eyes, and Legolas decided that he did not want that to happen if it was somehow avoidable.
Prompted by another dark look full of barely controlled annoyance, Legolas opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Lasseg. My name is Lasseg. Now that we are properly introduced: What does your lord want with me? Where are you taking me?"
Legolas clamped his mouth shut, shocked by his own words. Had he really told the man what he thought he had told him? Had he really told him his name was Lasseg? O Elbereth, was he insane? What had he been thinking?
Reran inclined his head mockingly, something that looked like amusement flickering over his face before it disappeared quicker than even an elven eye could follow.
"Let me give you a piece of advice then, Lasseg: Do not provoke Teonvan. He is not a self-controlled man, and if you stress your luck with him I will not always be there to protect you – assuming that I would want to in the first place. I do not look kindly onto entertainment of the sort he craves, but if you do not learn to hold your tongue I might make an exception." The man gave him a last, mocking nod and rose to his feet again. "A pleasant night to you, Lasseg."
The man was already turning around when Legolas' voice interrupted him, carrying a steely edge that had stopped several of his father's councilmen in mid-tirade more than once in the past.
"You did not answer my questions, human. Who is your lord? Why did you attack me and my men? Where is your home? In Rhûn? Is that where we are going? Further to the east?"
Reran slowly turned around, stony-faced at the mention of his liege as he looked down on his captive who he knew wouldn't live long once they reached their home.
"You are right. I did not."
Without another word the man turned back around and had soon disappeared between the rest of the men that were teeming in the camp, busy with kindling fires and preparing meals. Legolas looked after him for quite a long time, wondering about the look that had been visible in the human's eyes for a second before he had turned around and disappeared. He hadn't really expected the man to answer him – in fact, he would have been greatly surprised if he had – but that look in his eyes…
The elf continued staring into nothing, only faintly noticing that the four men who had been assigned to guard him tonight were drawing closer to him again, forming a tight circle around him like every night. If he didn't know better, he would say that there had been loathing and distaste among the fear that had been visible when Legolas had mentioned the men's lord; something that didn't put his mind at ease at all. These feelings hadn't been aimed at him, so they could only mean that, whatever was waiting for him at the end of this journey, it was highly unpleasant indeed, and worse enough to disgust even a battle-hardened man as Reran.
Slowly, Legolas' eyes travelled over his guards, scrutinising every single one of them for several minutes, long enough to make several of them shift under his relentless elven stare. This had gone on far too long now; he wouldn't allow them to bring him in front of their honourless lord like a caught animal! He wouldn't allow them to succeed in their endeavour, whatever it may be exactly, and he would most certainly not allow them to get away with what they had done to his friends!
Very well, he finally thought, if he couldn't escape at night, he would have to think of something else. He didn't necessarily have to escape; perhaps it was even enough to delay their journey, just enough so that eventual pursuers would be able to catch up with them; perhaps his father's guards or Aragorn were already on their trail…
Perhaps, he grimaced inwardly, and perhaps not. Then again, he would personally burn his bow if Aragorn was still at the palace; if he knew that reckless, thick-headed ranger at all he would already be out in Mirkwood doing Valar-know-what…
These contemplations brought him back to what had shocked him earlier, and even now it was enough to colour his cheeks (which were luckily hidden in the darkness) a dark crimson. A Elbereth, he must have suffered a sudden bout of madness! Perhaps that one blow to the head he had received from one of the guards earlier today had been a little harder than he had first thought? Had there been something in what little food he had been given? Were the men poisoning him?
Legolas closed his eyes, inwardly hearing Aragorn's mocking laughter that was soon joined by Celylith's, the twins' and every other person's he knew; he flatly refused to think about what his father would say to this. What in the name of the One had he been thinking? Why hadn't he thought of another name? There were hundreds of elven names to choose from, and all he had been able to come up with was Lasseg?
The fair haired elf beat his head ever so softly against the rock at his back. Lasseg was a form of the elven word "lass", meaning leaf; a part of his own name, by the way. The bad part about it, though, was that it was the diminutive form of the word; Lasseg meant, literally, "Little Leaf".
So, essentially, Legolas concluded despairingly, the thought filling him with far more dread and fear than his current situation, he had just told Reran that his name was Leafie.
Aragorn and Celylith would never let him forget this when they found him, never.
Many miles to the west, Celylith sat in front of a small fire and brooded.
That was, of course, not the word he would have chosen to describe his current occupation, since young elf lords did not brood. Young elf lords never brooded, that was at least what his father had told him more times than he could count – he had, in fact, lost count after his first two hundred years of existence.
No, young elf lords did not brood; they thought about things, they contemplated things, in a most dignified manner of course. And right now, he was contemplating why he was feeling as if he shouldn't be here.
That was, of course, a most ridiculous feeling, for he was a warrior of Mirkwood and son of one of the king's most important advisors. If he wasn't entitled to be here, then who was? Then again, he corrected himself, it wasn't as much that he felt that he shouldn't be here; he felt more as if he should be somewhere else, preferably at home, preferably anywhere where Legolas and Aragorn were.
He had the distinct feeling that they were in trouble; it wasn't even a feeling anymore, it was certainty. He knew they were in trouble, and he also knew that he was at the most useless place imaginable at the moment, namely still a day's journey to the west of the palace. Another thing Celylith knew was that he had been travelling as fast as he had been able, and he had even taken his leave from Beorn earlier than had been planned, and, if he was honest with himself, earlier than had been courteous.
Still, that knowledge did nothing to lessen the guilt that tore at his heart, guilt that told him very clearly that he should never have trusted Legolas to look after himself and the ranger and that he shouldn't have allowed himself to be sent on this little errand. He should have known that his prince was unable to spend more than two days in a row without getting himself and/or others into deadly peril, and he should have remained at his side no matter what. Perhaps he would have been able to help him, to somehow avert some of the danger, perhaps…
Perhaps, he snorted softly, perhaps indeed. More likely was however that he would have been dragged down with Legolas into whatever dark pit of danger and doom the prince was throwing himself (not falling, mind you) this time, and would have been more of a burden than an asset – just like the last time. The last time his lord had truly, urgently needed his assistance he had been unconscious, unable to help anyone, not even himself – of precious little help had he been then, indeed. It was something he still hadn't forgiven himself; if he hadn't got himself wounded he would have been able to protect Legolas and that stubborn ranger…
Celylith quickly shook his head; this was definitely bordering on brooding now. He wouldn't spend the night with remembering past darkness and contemplating what would have been if things had been different. It would serve to help neither him nor anyone else, and it would only depress him further than he already was. He had even kindled a small fire tonight, something that usually only the stupidest and most masochistic people did in the woods of his home – all in an attempt to drive off the dark shadows of memories and fears that had been creeping up on him for several days now.
Well, as be that as it may, he had left the house of the skin-changer yesterday morning, courtesy or not, after he had been battling an uneasy, dark feeling for nearly a day. He truly didn't know why he was having these feelings, they had suddenly been there, as if someone or something had thrown a switch inside his head and turned them on. He had been planning to stay with Beorn and his family longer, to exchange the latest news and talk about the orc movement close to the Great River, but he hadn't been able to bear these forebodings for long.
Beorn had apparently not been hurt or aggrieved; the only person who had very much lamented his early departure had been Beorn's son Grimbeorn, who was still an adolescent, at least Celylith thought so. He found it hard to determine a human's age or maturity, and it was even harder with skin-changers, who were quite a bit different than your usual edain, but men nonetheless.
So, grown-up or not, Grimbeorn had been rather disappointed to see him go so soon, and had even accompanied him for some hours when Celylith had left his father's house yesterday morning. They must have presented a queer picture indeed, the silver haired elf mused, an elf on a rather nervous horse and a young, but already huge black bear that been jumping around playfully, trying to catch the snowflakes that still floated gently to the ground.
No, Celylith decided with a small smile, Beorn's son was definitely not grown-up. He had never seen Beorn behave like this, which didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed the youth's company. Celylith still thought it strange to talk to someone who was a young man in the one moment and a huge bear in the next, but Grimbeorn was quick-witted and merry, and the elf had enjoyed his company greatly.
They had parted yesterday afternoon, still several hours from the beginning of the Forest Gate that marked the beginning of the Elf-path that led to King Thranduil's halls. After much arguing about whether the younger being would be allowed to accompany him further – he would not – Grimbeorn had relented and had trotted off and disappeared in the swirling snow masses, once again in the form of a great bear.
Celylith leaned back a little, his thoughts far away from the small clearing he was camping in at the moment. He thought about adding some more fuel to the fire, but decided against it quickly, preferring to let it slowly go out. The fire didn't seem to help at all; the dark feelings of fear, dread and doom were growing instead of diminishing, and therefore he could just as well do without a fire that posed a serious safety risk, after all. That it was not wise to light fires in Mirkwood at night was something a wood-elf learned very early – those who didn't usually got eaten by spiders, wargs or other foul things.
That thought served to bring a small smile to Celylith's lips. He wouldn't exactly mind if spiders made an appearance; he had always been greatly fascinated by the huge, multi-legged beasts, and contrary to the rest of Mirkwood's population he only killed them if he didn't have any other choice. He would love to see his ex-pet Wilwarin again, the little spider he had saved last year; saved, he emphasised mentally, not kidnapped.
He had learned a great many things about the arachnid's race in the short time he had been able to look after her, but when she had continued growing at an alarming rate Legolas had forced him to give her up, something he still hadn't forgiven the fair haired elf. In the process of bringing her deeper into the woods and setting her free Legolas, the twins, Aragorn and he had nearly been eaten by Wilwarin's colony – something that the others still hadn't forgiven him, a rather petty reaction now that he thought about it.
That was what was causing the problems between their two races, he nodded to himself: The spiders' habit of trying to eat every elf they laid eyes on. If they could somehow get past the whole biting-and-weaving-into-a-cocoon-for-later-consumption-part, he was sure they would be able to find a way to communicate, and, eventually, to co-exist.
Celylith shook his head resignedly. It would never come to that, he knew that deep in his heart, and unless the fascinating, amazingly beautiful arachnids underwent a profound change of heart, the time would never come when the call "Yngyl!" did not cause a wood-elf to reach for his weapons.
A shame, he thought darkly, it would be so interesting to see what they could learn from each other…
His considerations were interrupted when the forest suddenly grew silent – well, not exactly silent, but silent to a Silvan elf's ears. To anyone else it wouldn't have seemed any different, but to Celylith who had spent nearly all his life under these trees it was clear that he wasn't alone.
For a moment, he remained motionless, trying to gauge from the slightly muted sounds of the forest how far away the intruders were – and there were more than one, or the forest wouldn't have fallen as silent as it had. Not far, he realised quickly and soundlessly stood to his feet, reaching for the bow he had carefully deposited next to him. His gaze briefly swept over the large bag containing medicines and bandages that Legolas had forced on him; it appeared as if he would have need of it after all…
That served to anger him more than the actual fact that there were intruders, most likely enemies, who were converging on his position. Legolas would be unbearable for the next few days when he heard that he had needed all the things he had put in that stupid bag, Celylith grumbled inwardly as he quickly climbed a tree and found a suitable spot from which he could watch the camp unnoticed. The elf's eyes darkened. He really hoped for whoever was coming closer that they weren't looking for trouble or injured him – he would get really, really upset if he returned to the palace sporting several bandages. Really, really, really upset.
A faint movement to the right of where he had sat earlier caught his attention, a movement that was so well-concealed and stealthy that he would almost have missed it. There was not much that escaped a wood-elf's eyes in a forest, however, and so Celylith's sharp eyes had no trouble following the shadow that became visible now that he knew what he was looking for.
Said shadow stopped and seemed to survey his camp for a time, appearing grey and elusive against the darkened tree trunks. Finally, when Celylith was almost sure that his mysterious visitor would withdraw, the shadow began to move again, skilfully winding around the trees until it entered the small circle of light that surrounded the silver haired elf's campfire.
Celylith's eyes narrowed as the sparse light revealed a tall figure wearing a grey cloak, the hood concealing the features completely. The figure raised its head a little and began to scan the trees around it, obviously knowing where the fire's owner would have taken refuge after noticing that someone was drawing closer.
That was enough for the silver haired elf, and he silently moved through the trees until he reached the one exactly behind the stranger, already suspecting whose face was hidden under that grey cloak. Careful not to make even the smallest sound, Celylith dropped onto the snow-covered ground and, grinning wickedly, took two small steps closer to the shadowy figure.
The other's head shot up while he was still taking the last step, but before the intruder had time to turn around, Celylith had unsheathed his long knife and closed the remaining distance between them in a flash. Half a second later one of his arms was wrapped around the stranger's chest from behind while his other hand pressed the razor-sharp blade of his knife against the other's throat.
"You have entered the Elvenking's realm without permission," he whispered softly in Westron, using his hardest, most dangerous voice. "Such behaviour carries the penalty of death, stranger."
The cloaked figure growled almost inaudibly, one hand slowly straying to its weaponbelt, but the movement died when the silver haired elf increased the pressure on his knife a little.
"Do it and I'll cut your throat," he informed his prisoner darkly, inwardly grinning like a maniac. That growl had dispelled the last doubts from his mind as to whom he was currently threatening with a slit throat. "You have five seconds to state your business in King Thranduil's woods." The other still made no move to answer, and so he added, now grinning broadly, "Four. Three. Tw…"
"I do not answer to fools whose faces I have yet to see," the stranger informed him coldly, the anger that radiated off his lithe form almost tangible. "We have permission to travel here, guardian, and trust me when I tell you that you would greatly regret killing me. Unhand me, now, and I may forget this whole incident. Is this Mirkwood's way of greeting her guests?"
Celylith would have loved to keep this little charade up for much longer, but he knew that he would burst like one of Mithrandir's fireworks if he had to suppress his laughter any longer.
"No, Lord Elladan, it is not. This is a special performance just for you and your brother who is undoubtedly hiding somewhere in the trees behind us, only waiting to kill the villain who dares threaten a son of Elrond."
The Noldorin elf's body stiffened in surprise, and Celylith leaned a little closer so he could watch the other's grey eyes narrow in annoyance and anger.
"Celylith," the older twin said flatly, still staring straight ahead. "I should have known."
"Yes," the silver haired elf agreed, all but doubling over with laughter. "You should have, mellon nín."
Elladan carefully turned his head to the side and gave the other elf a bright smile, a smile that looked about as genuine as gentleness would have on an orc's face.
"Kindly remove that knife from my throat, or I will do it for you."
"Oh, of course, my lord," Celylith chuckled and withdrew his dagger which was re-sheathed so quickly that even elven eyes could hardly follow. Drawing himself up to his full height and inclining his head gracefully, he added, "Welcome to Mirkwood, Lord Elladan."
"A welcome you usually show only orcs, I hope," a new voice announced, and the two elves turned around to lay eyes on Elladan's twin who was just dropping out of a tree. "If you treat every traveller like this, one needs no longer wonder why you don't get many visitors."
"I do not see your point, my friend," Celylith grinned as he grasped Elrohir's forearm in greeting. "Is there a noteworthy difference between you and orcs? Apart from the height, I mean."
"Give a wood-elf a knife and a tree and he will begin to suffer delusions of grandeur," Elladan shook his head in disgust before turning enraged eyes on his younger brother. "What kept you? You could have made your presence known at some point! He could have killed me!!"
"Ah, but then I would have missed that look of surprise on your face, dear brother," Elrohir grinned. "And a rare look it was! Besides, you know that this young one here wouldn't have killed you – I think."
For a moment, all three of them glared at each other before they began to grin, merriment creeping into grey and dark blue eyes.
"It is good to see you again, mellon nín!" Elrohir declared finally and clapped the silver haired elf's on the back. "Where is that princeling you insist on escorting all the time? Is Estel with you as well?"
Celylith shook his head and invited the twins to step closer to the slowly dying fire, not missing the disappointment that flickered over both elves' faces at that small movement.
"No, I am alone. I am returning from an errand for the king; a visit to Beorn. Your brother and the prince are back at the palace, or so I hope."
"So you hope?" Elladan raised a dark eyebrow and fixed half-amused, half-worried eyes on the other elf. "What has happened now? Why did they agree to stay behind?"
Celylith looked from one twin to the other with wide eyes. This conversation was not at all going into the desired direction.
"Nothing," he said quickly, his eyes already travelling over the trees in an attempt to identify the most suitable escape route. The twins wouldn't be happy to hear that the only reason why Aragorn and Legolas had – hopefully, he repeated inwardly – remained at the palace was that they had crashed a pair of sledges and impaled themselves on innocent trees. "Nothing happened. They are fine."
The twins traded a look, their dark hair in stark contrast to the muted whiteness of their snow-covered surroundings.
"And 'fine' would be whose definition of their state of health? Yours? Theirs? Hithrawyn's?" Elladan inquired, folding his arms across his chest.
Celylith felt his lips twist into a strained smile, contemplating if he would be able to make it into a tree before one of them grabbed him. Probably not, he decided after a second. Judging by the gleam in the twins' nearly identical eyes, they were prepared for exactly such an action.
"Everyone's definition, my friends," he replied vaguely, still smiling brightly at the two clearly suspicious Noldor. "They heal quickly enough, after all."
In the moment the words were leaving his mouth, Celylith realised what he was saying. He hurriedly closed his mouth and lifted his chin, decidedly ignoring the twins' eyebrows that rose simultaneously to dizzying heights. He wouldn't say another word, and there was no way they were going to make him.
Elrohir's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to the silver haired elf who promptly took a step backwards.
"What do you mean, mellon nín?" he asked in a friendly tone of voice. "What wounds did they need to recover from? What trouble did Legolas and Estel get themselves into this time?"
"What trouble have you allowed them to get themselves into?" Elladan corrected, eyes beginning to gleam threateningly.
Panic flickered to life in the silver haired elf's heart, and Celylith raised both hands in a pacifying gesture, his resolve to remain silent forgotten in the face of the brothers' wrath.
"I?" he asked unbelievingly. "I? They do not need anyone to get them into trouble, least of all me! Besides, I am not their nursemaid! That is an outrageous accusation you raise, sons of Elrond!"
"Not nearly as outrageous as their complete lack of manners," a soft voice commented to their right, and all three of them whirled around, hands on the hilts of their swords and knives before they had even turned half-way.
Instead of an orc or something similar as Celylith had firmly believed he would see – disaster followed any son of Elrond wherever he went, that was something he had learned the hard way – his eyes came to rest on a small group of elven warriors that stood at the edge of their small clearing, their horses just visible behind them. Most of them were dark haired like the Lord of Imladris and his children and wore amused expressions, but at the front stood a tall, golden haired elf Celylith knew only too well. And said elf, he added inwardly, did not look amused in the slightest.
The silver haired elf gulped and quickly bowed his head. And here he had thought this evening couldn't get any worse! He should have remembered the twins' escort; a fine warrior of Mirkwood he was!
"Lord Glorfindel," he said with reverence, meaning every bit of it. Lord Elrond's blonde advisor was a living legend, and to quite a few young elves he had been and still was a sort of childhood hero, something that just might have been in case for Celylith as well, for a few centuries maybe. Not more. "Forgive me, I did not know the Lords Elladan and Elrohir travelled in your company. I have greeted you poorly indeed."
"You could not have known, guardian" the golden haired elf shook his head slightly. "We were looking for a place to make camp when we spied your fire through the trees; and besides, I would have completely understood had you cut their throats. To sneak up on a wood-elf's camp under the trees of his home is foolishness, as I have told them."
Celylith would almost have blushed, something that only over 2500 years of practice prevented. Had that been a praise? From Lord Glorfindel of Rivendell? Elbereth, what a day this was turning out to be!
"You are too kind, my lord," he gave the older elf another bow. "Yet it would have been an embarrassment to my king as well as my father, and I believe Lord Elrond would have been somewhat aggrieved as well."
Glorfindel smiled widely, superiorly ignoring the dark looks both of the twins were shooting him while they helped to unload the elven party's horses.
"Yes, I believe you might be correct, young one." Blue eyes narrowed for a moment as he scrutinised the silver haired wood-elf. "Your father is Lord Celythramir then?"
"Aye, my lord, he is," Celylith nodded, knowing that his hair colour had given him away once again. There were not many silver haired elves in Mirkwood, and even less silver haired members of nobility. "I am Celylith, his son. The king, however, is stressed enough at the moment so there is no reason to add a diplomatic crisis to his troubles."
"Very considerate of you," the elf lord said wryly, wondering for a moment if Elladan's eyes would catch fire in the next few moments. Yes, he nodded inwardly. They most certainly would if the twin continued giving him such fiery looks. "But we are here to relieve your liege of some of his problems, never fear."
"Your arrival has been looked forward to by many with much anticipation," Celylith agreed with a small smile. "You and your men would do me an honour by sharing my fire this night. There is safety in numbers after all, even more so since the shadow on our woods is lengthening."
Glorfindel didn't hesitate a moment to accept the younger elf's offer, and soon the horses had been unloaded and the fire rekindled, and soft conversation floated through the trees surrounding the small group of elves that had gathered round the dancing flames. The Noldor were recounting their small, rather relaxing encounter with some mountain goblins (relaxing for them, that was, not for the unfortunate goblins) they had had when they had crossed the Hithaeglir, the mighty mountain range of the Misty Mountains that divided the lands of Eriador and Wilderland.
The rest of the evening was spent with the recount of tales, tales of the deeds of the kings and mighty warriors of old, and both the Imladris elves and their Silvan companion did their best to remember tales in which their respective peoples had figured most prominently.
Shortly before midnight, one of the younger warriors ended a song about how Fingon had rescued his cousin Maedhros from the peak of Thangorodrim where Morgoth had held him captive, and after the applause had died down and the guards had been set everyone who had not been chosen to stand watch laid down to rest.
Celylith who had volunteered for the first watch gave the small clearing and his sleeping companions a last look and retreated into the shadow of the tree he had climbed some hours ago, sitting down and resting his head against the dark bark. With a smile of faint amusement he noticed that not one of the others had chosen to rest in a tree as every wood-elf would have. The silver haired elf shook his head slightly. Noldor.
He had agreed to wake one of the twins' companions later this night but had politely requested the right to take first watch – it was something he owed his lord's guests as a warrior of Mirkwood. It was not only an act of courtesy though; he knew from experience that the small hours of the night were the most dangerous, and since none of the other elves was familiar with these parts, it would be safest if he kept watch for now.
Besides, he added darkly, he did not intend to go to sleep anywhere where the twins could reach him. He had got to know them rather well during the past two or three years and especially last autumn when they and Lord Elrond had stayed in Mirkwood while Aragorn had been recuperating, and if he knew them at all, they wouldn't have forgiven him the little trick he had played on them.
While he was still contemplating how it came that the two of them were so vengeful, a small sound to his right caught his attention. He quickly scanned the camp: Just as he had thought, the twins were missing.
Celylith rolled his eyes. They were just as bad as Legolas and Aragorn, or Aragorn and Legolas were just as bad as they. Or both the twins and Aragorn and Legolas had learned from each other.
"Come out now or I will put a pair of arrows through your heads," he said, turning to his right. "I am not in the mood for such games."
"Neither were we," a soft voice behind him murmured, and before the thought that the two of them must have split up had fully formed in his mind, he felt how the blade of a knife was pressed against his neck. "We weren't, were we, my brother?"
"Most definitely not," Elrohir nodded, stepping out from behind the tree at Celylith's back.
The silver haired elf rolled his eyes, inwardly deciding that there was probably nothing wrong with Legolas after all. The bad feeling he had been having had probably been about these two demons' impending arrival. He gave a small sigh. It hadn't been bad enough.
"Alright," he nodded, gazing grimly at the younger twin's widely grinning face. "You have made your point." He turned slightly so he could give Elladan a dark, threatening look. Elrond's oldest son seemed to be enjoying himself far too much, he decided. "Kindly remove that knife from my throat, or I will do it for you."
Elladan grinned as the other repeated the words he himself had spoken only a few hours ago.
"Of course, my Lord Celylith," he answered with a magnanimous smile and he quickly withdrew the dagger. "I could never refuse a request as polite or eloquent as this one."
"Eloquent. Right," Celylith snorted and rubbed his neck. "Whatever you say, my lord."
The older twin traded an aggrieved look with his brother.
"You have this horrible, insulting way of humouring people, did you know that? I honestly do not know how Legolas puts up with you."
"About as well as Lord Glorfindel puts up with you, I imagine," the other elf shot back, a wicked glint appearing in his midnight-blue eyes. "I pity him. Truly, I do."
"You would," Elrohir declared with an obviously heartfelt headshake of disgust as he plopped down onto the snow next to the wood-elf. "In fact, I think that it's us who are in need of your pity, mellon nín. Glorfindel has been nigh unbearable since we set out from Rivendell more than a week ago."
"Who wouldn't be," Celylith mumbled under his breath, shuddering at the mere thought. Anyone who had escorted not only one but two sons of Elrond over the Misty Mountains in this weather and at this time of year and had ensured their safety could be sure of his utmost respect and awe.
"As I said," Elrohir ignored the other's comment, glaring darkly at him, "Glorfindel has been behaving like a big, blonde mother hen these past days. I do believe ada threatened him with something rather unpleasant should something happen to either of us."
"Aye," his brother nodded thoughtfully, quickly checking if said warrior was indeed asleep. "In truth, I do believe that the words 'pain', 'doom' and 'prolonged vacation to Barad-dûr' were mentioned." Elladan fell silent for a moment and frowned slightly. "Or was it Minas Morgul?"
"It hardly matters, gwanur nín," Elrohir interrupted his brother sternly before redirecting his attention to Celylith who was looking at them with somewhat wide eyes, clearly trying to determine if Elladan was being serious or not. "Let's not forget why we came here."
"Oh?" Celylith lifted a dark silver eyebrow in surprise. "You had another reason than to torment me?"
"Of course," Elladan nodded, and on an unspoken signal both of them edged closed to the wood-elf whose eyes widened only further. "You never answered our question."
"Question?" the younger elf repeated faintly in a desperate attempt to stall. "What question?"
Elrohir smiled benignly at him, something that served to unsettle Celylith even more.
"Yes, Celylith, our question. You were in the process of explaining to us what trouble our reckless brother had got himself into this time."
"Into what trouble you have allowed him to get himself into this time," Elladan corrected once again. He too smiled friendly at the silver haired elf on whose face a definitely despairing expression was beginning to spread. "And after that, my friend…"
"…you will tell us exactly what happened during your little trip to Esgaroth and Dale. In detail. The reports we received can simply not be true. Things like those do not happen, not even to Estel," Elrohir finished his brother's sentence.
The silver haired elf consciously stopped himself from pressing his back against the bark of the tree in an attempt to put more distance between him and the twins; a most undignified behaviour indeed. This was going to be a long night…
He forced himself to smile as well, a smile that looked more than a little bit strained. The twins were looking at him expectantly, and with a last, desperate look at the sleeping camp he opened his mouth to answer.
"Would you like to bet on that, my friends?"
The twins merely gave him their father's look, and that was the moment Celylith corrected himself with a tired mental sigh.
This was going to be a very, very long night.
TBC...
Eldar - 'People of the Stars', elves
edain - humans, men
yngyl (pl. of ungol) - spiders
mellon nín - my friend
ada - father (daddy)
gwanur nín - my (twin) brother
Before you say it: I know that, technically, Maedhros and Fingon weren't 'real' cousins since Fëanor and Fingolfin were only half-brothers, but it's close enough for me. And one other thing: Grimbeorn is canon, I did not make him up. I've always thought it sad that no-one mentioned poor Beorn's family, so I thought I should. *g* Okay, the next chapter should be here Tuesday or Wednesday, I promise I'll do my best to make it Tuesday, but no guarantees, sorry. I won't state again that reviews encourage me because I think I'm beginning to insult your intelligence, right? *g*
Additional A/N:
Aratfeniel - You wanted to see Teonvan yell at him? Hmm, I always thought that Teonvan was more the hissing/speaking-in-a-friendly-voice-kind of guy. I think that it's more Reran who would yell once he really lost his temper - I will have to think about that. *g* Thanks for the idea!
Deana - *waggles finger* Ah, you didn't pay attention. I didn't say there was no elf angst till chapter 14, I only said there wouldn't be any elf torture. That's a difference. *g* And, to be perfectly honest, the way it looks right now most of it will be in chapter 15. *runs off quickly* Sorry!
Sabercrazy LOL, Hithrawyn - LOL, I'm sure that Aragorn would love to impale himself on yet another perfectly innocent tree! *g* Oh, wouldn't Hithrawyn just LOVE that? Well, yes, be assured that there won't be anything graphic. *shudders* No way in hell, actually. But I'm not yet sure if you will hate dear Teonvan the most ... *thinks for a moment* Yeah, probably. But he'll get competition soon... *evil grin* Glad to hear that you got your alter egos under control. They can be very annoying indeed. *g*'s glare of imminent DEATH? Well, I guess you could say that... *g* And yes, I think Aragorn is indeed three fries short of a Happy Meal right now - what else is new, huh? *g*
TrinityTheSheDevil - Me evil thing? *innocently* Did I miss something? What did I do now? *g* Okay, brilliant sounds much better... And you want whom to get hurt? Celythramir? Why, what has the poor elf ever done to you? *ducks Trin's giant snowball and prepares to drop a ton of snow onto her* See how you like it then!!!
Amelie - Oh, don't worry. I know all about computer/video games. They can be worse than a really good book, even though my mother never understands me when I say that... *shrugs* Wrong generation, I guess. Oh, and I do indeed remember the little Orlando Bloom thing, and I'll admit that my words were ill chosen, or rather my examples (Johnny Depp and Ian McKellen). There are loads of young, comparably inexperinced actors/actresses I DO like and whose acting ability I respect. Take Colin Farrell for example, or even a young Al Pacino or a young Jodie Foster. Al Pacino was a few years older than Orlando Bloom is now in The Godfather, and he did have considerably less acting experience. *g* Then again, Al Pacino is a god which only few people can claim. *shrugs* It all boils down to the fact that I can't stand him, I guess. *g* And yes, there'll be little torture for anyone till chapter 14, sorry. *g*
Mouse5 - Aww, thanks! It's sweet that you send me an email instead of the review (I HATE FF.net!), thanks! *huggles* It's nice to hear that you liked Thranduil, who is really not feeling so great at the moment. You're also right about the twins, who will most definitely _not_ be happy once they find out what's going on. Oh, and before I forget it: I liked the little sentence at the end, the one about the end of the world and Australia. I have to admit, I've never seen it like that before... *g*
Gwyn - Uhm, I didn't say that Celylith would get home this chapter, did I? Nope, I'm rather sure that I did not, but he's here, don't worry.. *g* And who said that Celylith even has a mind to lose? He's not really behaving like that, is he... *trails off evilly*
Sherry - Well, if you are indeed no longer readind WIP stories, then you won't read this either, but I'll take my chances. *g* And: Yes, I liked that article a lot! Who gets such crazy ideas? I have to admit that I am trying to find a way to put something like this into my next story. They could perhaps use great leaves or something? You have most definitely given me many interesting ideas... Well, thanks a lot for sending me the link, and I'm very glad you like the stories until now!
Red Tigress - I couldn't agree more, my friend. I really liked Last Samurai, it's one of these annoying movies when you KNOW that they don't stand a chance and KNOW that they're all going to die and still hope they get out of it somehow... *g* It was very sad indeed. And about the elf torture: What would you say if I said that most of it is in chapter 15? Something along the lines of "Arrrrgggghhh", right? *innocent grin*
E - Hmm, I see. The thing is that I think that he would have waited to make that decision until it was certain that the elven scouts hadn't found Legolas. I think that he would have followed sooner had they been anywhere else, but since they are in Mirkwood the chances of the wood-elves finding something is much higher than him finding something. *shrugs* That's, as I said, only my opinion. And I think that, at Amon Hen, he was also older and more confident about his abilities and all that. Be that as it may, I hope you'll enjoy the twins!
Crystal-Rose15 - So the squirrels are attacking, huh? See, I TOLD you they were sneaky and dangerous! *g* And yes, I guess Aragorn really does believe that everything's Legolas' fault. Well, he's right of course, but it's also his fault. That didn't make much sense, right? *g* And I _still_ like the 'Gruesome Twosome'. I'm rather sure Celylith is more than willing to agree by now! *g*
Calenore - Great you like the monkey comments. I can of course try to put more of them into this, but the thing is that the harder I try such things the harder it becomes... *shrugs* We'll see. And I think that Thranduil would be VERY furious, at least at first. Poor Erelas would end up in the dungeons, I'm afraid... Thanks for saying that you liked that little Thranduil scene. I was in fact not really comfortable with it - I still am not, I think. *g* Well, at least you like it. *huggles*
Fuzzy - Thank you! I like young Estel stories as well - huh, who'd have thought, I know. *g* Great to hear that you like my weird little stories - that's ALWAYS nice to hear! *g* - and thanks a lot for the review!
Suzi9 - Whohooo! Party!!! *confetti falls and Zam's orc horde appears (they throw great parties, believe me!)* Congrats! I hope the exam went well! *g* Cute, confused elven warriors, huh? Yeah, I guess there are a lot of them in Mirkwood at the moment... And I whole-heartedly agree: That stubborn pride is going to be the elves' death one of these days... Reckless creatures, really. *g* And of course you may have a talking squirrel! Everything for you! *hands her a gift-wrapped talking squirrel* Here you go! Just don't let Drákon eat it! And believe it or not, I am probably staring Ju Jitsu as well. A friend of mine knows this one dojo and since my mother's been bugging me about taking self-defence classes for ages (You know, it's such a big, dangerous city and all that! *g*) I thought it's give it a try! Would you recommend it? Apart from the knives, of course... *g* And about the languages: I haven't learned a new one in ages (if you don't count Sindarin, that is), so when I was your age, I already possessed my amazing language skills! *g* Sorry! And now you can try the "My talking squirrel ate my homework" excuse! Yay! *g*
Just Jordy - Yes, Aragorn is indeed Lord Elrond's adopted son. It's in the appendixes, let me see... Yup, it's in Appendix A. 'Then Aragorn, now being the Heir of Isildur, was taken with his mother to dwell in the house of Elrond, and Elrond took the place of his father and came to love him as a son of his own. But he was called Estel, that is "hope", and his true name and lineage were kept secret at the bidding of Elrond; for the Wise then knew that the Enemy was seeking the Heir of Isildur, if any remained upon earth.' So, it's true. *g*
Kathira - Oh, no! Don't worry! I love every single review, and would NEVER lose one of them. Trust me, it's true. You can get rather addicted to reviews, it's sad but true. *g* LOL, 'as much Aragorn angst, injury and misery as possible'? Well, I'll see what I can do about that, but rest assured that there'll be quite a lot of that. I love him to much to let him get away easily. *g* Thanks very much for taking the time to review! *huggles*
Strider's Girl - You're right, and in my opinion that's something King Thranduil should have sone a long time ago. I would have locked them in their rooms a long time ago - it appears that Thranduil and Elrond are more patient - or insane. *g* So you can buy yourself a lottery ticket? You do realise that the possibility of being hit by a meteor is higher than to win in the lottery, right? *g* Well, if you want to, keep telling me things from your life! I always enjoy hearing what's going on in other people's lives, and if you like telling me... I can't understand why either, but please, feel free to continue. *g*
Marbienl - Are you sure Elrond will forgive him? I don't know - it's the second time in less than half a year that the two have disappeared, and... Thranduil: *whimpers* Oh, I love being mean... *evil grin* And you're right, in the end the Silvan Elves will have to give him some credit. They're simply too stubborn to admit that humans are as intelligent as they are. *grimaces* Bigots. Hmm, I don't know about Hithrawyn really. I doubt that there'll ever be great love between the two of them... And such a conversation seems highly unlikely as well... And take care of Frór, dammit! I might need him later! Don't let that thing eat him!!
Sirithiliel - Yeah, I know, and I love every single one of them! I LOVE reviews!!! *g* Hmm, yeah, if the men were clever they would be fleeing in terror right about now, which proves that they're not clever. Nope, they're in fact rather stupid. And I totally agree: Pirates of the Caribbean IS great!
Louise_Oblique - I'm sorry about not having Legolas in the last chapter. The thing is that, right now, I have to cover so many angles and different points of view that I simply don't have the space to put all of them into every chapter. I hope to reduce all that in the next few chapters though. 'Hope' being the main word here... *g*
Joee1 - LOL, you really did that? That's in fact something I could very well do myself... I have done it quite a few times actually, when reading a book. *g* So, I'm a little weird myself. So, I hope you'll read this chapter right away this time, thanks for sharing that little story! It's good to know it happens to other people, too!
MerryElf - *g* Thank you! Great you liked the squirrels, and yes, Celylith is indeed in this story. Quite a few people asked if he would be; it appears that the dear elf has a few fans out there! Good for him! (Celylith: *beams*) Thanks a lot for the review!
Karone Evertree - Good to hear that you can wait till chapter 14/15. It would be too bad otherwise, since it's already written and nothing I can change. Well yes, I COULD change it of course, but that would ruin the plot and we can't have that, can we?
Orlandofan13 - Yes, it can be very confusing at first. It took me ages till I had figured out what "TBC" meant. I couldn't get it into my head. *g* Well, about the Elvish: It of course depends on what language you wish to learn. The only real thing I can tell you right now is to forget about the Grey Company's dictionary. It's incorrect, plain and simple. It's just a bad, distorted version of Quenya. *shuddders*
Snow-Glory - Well, of course they're going to get involved! Did you expect anything else? *g* Will Aragorn find Legolas before the twins find him? I won't answer that, just remember that Aragorn left a day after Legolas' captors whereas the twins _arrive_ in Mirkwood three days after Aragorn left. So, what are the chances? *g* And about the finding-out-part: Nope, I'm afraid not. Not any time soon, I'm afraid...
Halo - Well, yes, YOU would be a very happy camper too! You're weird and evil and sadistic and did I mention evil? *g* LOL, he's smiling on the inside? Yeah, I guess you could say that... *g* You're writing a new story? Really? I kinda missed it - as soon as this is up I'll go and have a look at it! Promise! Thanks a lot for your review, I hope everything's well at home! *huggles*
Grumpy - I am very glad I could make you laugh, of course. King Thranduil is to be pitied, however - poor elf, really... *pats his head in sympathy* You saw Master and Commander? Well, you're braver than I, you could pay me money and I still wouldn't go and see it. Plus, I HATE Russell Crowe, so.. *g* But the TOm Cruise movie was really good. You know, it actually had a _plot_. And a meaning! I know, it's rare enough in Hollywood movies! *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - So I see you've met with the talking squirrels, eh? They may be evil, but they're quit amusing actually - especially the way the scare Aragorn. *evil grin* Hmm, war or reviews? That's a tough choice, really, let me think ... WAR!!! Just the idea of overthrowing the One is too much fun to miss!! War!!!!!! *g* J/k, I love reviews more than mindless killing - I think. *g* *spits out confetti* Great you feel sorry for Thranduil. It was my pleasure.
Nicole - You know, there is that little thing called "irony". When I said "some elf torture" I meant in fact more than "some", but I've learned that you should never declare your intentions for your characters too openly when they're around to hear you. Elves are wicked fast, you know, and once Legolas finds out what I've planned for him and his friends.... *shakes head* Nah, that wouldn't be too good. I congratulate you on your first review, it was rather long for that! Thanks!
Zam - First: I hope you and Lina are better now. If you're not, don't come too close to me, I refuse to become ill again. Got it? *suspicious look* Good... Well, duh! Of course Aragorn's stupid, or he would never have befriended Legolas. I mean, only a really dumb or suicidal person could do that! LOL, you like it when Celythramir speaks of cruel and merciless death? Well, if that's so I'll see what I can do in the future... *g* And Erelas couldn't have gone with Aragorn, that would have been desertion! And I don't think that Thranduil is really in the mood for something like this now! *g* It's great to see that you like MInas Morgul so much - and don't worry, Celylith will get used to it too! Eventually... Huggle Larry and Lina for me!
Alisha B - Well, well, well - what have we got here? Is it an ALISHA? A member of the species everyone thought extinct since they didn't show themselves anymore? Nah, it can't be... can it? *g* But well, if you were AMBUSHED by ORCS on your way to chapter 6 it's an entirely different thing, of course. *grins and huggles* Well, I'm glad you're back, I hope your exams went well? And I couldn't agree more: Legolas needs to keep his mouth shut. I think he can't though, it's an elven genetic thing or something - I think that pride of theirs is going to get them killed one day... *g* Cut out his tongue? Well, it's an interesting idea for sure... You want me to do what? Fingernails? Hmmm, I'll think about it - perhaps a little later, somehow it's too subtle for Teonvan I think. *huggles again* Thanks for reviewing!
Tapetum Lucidum - Yeah, well, you see I have this problem at the moment. There are too many different angles and points of view to cover at the moment, so I can only have one of them in each chapter. This chapter all the Aragorn fans are going to start moaning, just you wait... *wail can be heard "WHAT?? No Aragorn??"* You see? *g* And yes, I figured that, as a human, Aragorn needed some help to escape Mirkwood. It's a fortified palace, so he can't just get up and walk off... I think. *g* Hmm, I don't know that story you quoted; it appears that Legolas does indeed inspire this kind of over-protective behaviour. Poor elfsie... *g*
Elvendancer - Hmm, I really hate to say that, but from a purely movie-point-of-view (you know, if one ignores that RotK was supposed to be Tolkien's RotK) The Last Samurai was a much better movie than RotK. I don't know why, but I even liked the fight scenes better even though they were on a much smaller scale. They were wonderfully done and exciting, whereas in RotK I've always thought things along the lines of "Oh, another 10000 orcs bite the dust - oh, there goes the computer-generated troll..." *shrugs* My opinion only, I guess. Hmm, Reran's none too happy at the moment either, believe me, I think Teonvan will be very happy though, eventually. Around chapter 14/15, to be precise... *g*
Iray Kentia Moon - Well, thank you! It's great to hear that you liked the story until now, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well! Thanks for the review!
Firnsarnien - It didn't have WHAT? The review button disappeared? O God, that's horrible! Not all people are as kind as you and send me mails instead! I will ... I will, yes, I will sue FF.net! Curse them, preciousss!! *shakes fist* And yes, of course I eat Hobbit feet! They're delicious with mint sauce! *g* LOL, and yes, OF COURSE you enjoy elf torture! You know, denial ain't just a river in Egypt and all that... *evil grin* You might just as well admit it. I'm sorry there was no Legolas in the last chapter, but I have neither the time nor the space to have both him and Aragorn in every single chapter. So I am doing it in turn right now; I _am_ hoping to return to having both of them in the same chapter soon though. *grimaces* We'll see. Okay, thanks a lot for the huge review! You're very sweet! *huggles*
NaughtyNat - *evil grin* Well, you would like the Aragorn-impaling-himself-on-the-branch-bit, wouldn't you? I would have been very much surprised otherwise... *g* Uhm, let me summarise that. You thought the scene in which dear Lomar introduced our favourite ranger to his friend, the pipe, 'cute and fluffy'?? Mate, I REALLY think you need to talk to someone and get professional help... *g* Oh, you have your GCSEs now? Good luck with that! *huggles*
Critternut - I hope you're better now? Life can be a b****, can't it? Don't worry about writing reviews, Real Life is much more important - or so it claims... *g* And I never said there wouldn't be Legolas angst till chapter 14, I said there wouldn't be Legolas torture till then. It's a difference. And, to be perfectly honest, it's more like chapter 15 now - sorry! I couldn't do anything! Not my fault! Hmm, sorry to spoil your perfect plan, but there won't be any escaping in the near future - that would ruin the whole plot. And, as I said, I don't know about the legs. Would kinda ruin it as well. *shrugs* Sorry. You're jealous because the twins take away Legolas' spotlight? Okay, mate, you REALLY have to get some help... *g*
Bailey - Uhm, yeah, well, I guess you could say that. Half-dead people tned to be not so beautiful and hot and heavens know what else... *g* Will Aragorn meet trouble in the woods? *innocent expression* Nooooooo.... Will the twins go after Aragorn? Nooooooo.... You have really weird ideas, my friend... *g* I would never make them do such things, never... *g*
Maerz - Du liest Sachen nicht am PC? Echt? Wenn ich alle fanfics ausdrucken wuerde, denen ich irgendwie folge, kaeme ich gar nicht mehr aus dem Drucken raus... Wenn man sich einmal ans Lesen am Computer gewoehnt hat, geht's eigentlich auch. *zuckt Schultern* Na ja, jeder nach seiner Facon... *g* Ich hoffe, dass du mittlerweile aufgeholt hast; ich will dich ja nicht unter Druck setzen! *g*
Cicci - *nods fervently* Thank you! That's excatly what I thought! I mean, he _knows_ he's the Heir of Isildur and all that, I think he would at least TRY to be reasonable and mature, right? Right. *g* And of course I have something up my sleeve - except several aces *g* - I love Aragorn far too much to let him get away so easily, trust me! *g* And you're right of course, I didn't create the tension and hostility between the baddies just for the fun of it. It has a reason, you'll see... Great to hear that you liked Thranduil last chapter, I'm always very nervous about writing him. He's a tough one, he is... *g*
Sammy - Well, uhm ... sorry? I really couldn't update yesterday, you know, Real Life and all that? I hope the wait wasn't too harrible, thanks for the review!
Jazmin3 Firewing - Well, to be perfectly honest it's no elf torture till chapter 15. Sorry about that, the characters once again refused to shut up. *shrugs* Blame them. And I agree, it was predictable that Aragorn would sneak out of the palace. I mean, we all knew he would do it, right? I got your Official Stamp of Approval! Wow, that means so much to me!! *huggles* Thank you!! And I would love that hiding place in your basement, but what exactly is The Thing? *g*
Sheila - *blushes* Thank you! I hope that my stories are at least a bit suspenseful - it's always quite hard to say when you already know what's going to happen - and funny - there are quite a few things that I don't think particularly funny, but you guys do and the other way round. *shrugs* Whatever. Thanks a lot for your kind words and for taking the time to review!
Armageddon5 - Hmm, I see. Could you give me an example? Or tell me the next time you don't know who is thinking/saying what? I would really like to avoid making the same mistake twice, and if you could tell me exactly what you mean I would be able to change it. *g* Thanks a lot in advance. And about the 'small background stories': I simply don't have the time or space to go into detail all the time. I am already hard-pressed to end this in the next fifteen or so chapters, and if I would start going into every little story ever mentioned I wouldn't finish this at all. If I ever have the time, I might write the troll story or how Aragorn and Legolas met, but I doubt it will be in the next few months. And there is no great story behind how Celylith and Legolas met. They were elflings, and I don't write children stories. *grimaces* I don't like children all that much, and I don't think I could write them, elven or not. *g* Thanks for the review, btw! *g*
Rabbit of Iron - So you like elf torture, brown paper packages and elves in white dresses, but no baby bunny rabbits? *blinks* Alright then... LOL, I hope you're indeed not putting the things my weird mind comes up with into practise! That would be awful; I would have inspired someone to become a psychopathic serial killer! *g* It's great to hear that you like my little non-series (don't ask me why, but I'm ver reluctant to call it a series. It sounds so overly important. *g*), and there will be probably another story after this one. That would be the sequel to the sequel to the sequel of AEFAE, I believe. *g* And I'm not only an elf torturer, I'm also a ranger torturer, let's not forget that. I am proud of my fairness. *evil grin*
Firniswin - My bio was weird? Really? I haven't changed anything for ages - must be FF.net again, curse it. It hates me, I swear it does... *g* And believe me, you're not the only one who loves Aragorn. There are quite a few people here, actually. *g* I hope I hurried enough and you didn't die waiting - it sure sounded like that! *g* And when you sent me that email, the chapter was already posted, honestly!
Iverson - Oh, I understand, don't worry. It seems that Real Life is out to get us... *g* LOL, didn't we all know that the 'idiot ranger' was going to do something like that? And I think he can't listen to other people _because_ he is an idiot ranger. Plus, it wouldn't be half as funny if he started to behave really reasonable. *evil grin* And yeah, you _might_ start sounding like a broken record. Come on, really: Do you honestly expect him something as reasonable as returning to the palace? Well? I didn't think so... *g* And don't worry, Legolas is indeed alright. A little worse for wear, but essentially alright. *g*
Once again, I'm sorry for being a day late. Don't blame me, blame Real Life. Or whichever evil entity you can think of. College is doing quite nicely for me, though. *g*