To Walk In Night

by Nili

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

14. Costly Mistakes

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.

A/N:

Well, quite a lot of people guessed who or what those friendly little shadows are. Especially Cathy had the characterisation down pat - I am becoming rather predictable, it appears... *g* But then again, maybe not. Honestly, people, since when do elves have yellowish eyes? And obviously want to harm our dear ranger - wait a second, no, it's not Thranduil or the twins, who MIGHT want to hurt him. *shakes head* Nah, no elves, and no men either...

As I said, there won't be any serious elf torture in this chapter, so don't complain later, okay? *g* I never said that there wouldn't be any elf angst though - and the same goes for ranger angst. So, yes, there will be a little bit of Legolas and Aragorn angst/pain/whatever you want to call it in this chapter, I had finally enough of all the reviews threatening me with pain and doom if I kept our intrepid heroes in their uninjured state any longer. Therefore it isn't my fault. *innocent smile*

I would probably say more right now, but it's been snowing for days and I'm going to go sledding. Yes, I do know it's in the middle of the night and that we will probably break our necks or impale ourselves on trees (*g*), but it's going to be fun until then.


So, without further ado, here is chapter 14, in which ... hmm, yes, we see the mysterious shadows, of course (no, they're still not elves *g*), Aragorn has yet another bad feeling - I know, that's what? About the two thousandth? *g* - Reran has a bad day and Legolas gets into trouble. Really, really bad trouble. *evil grin*

Enjoy and review, please!

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Chapter 14

The uncurbed joy in his heart began to die down a little, enough for the man to take notice of his surroundings again.

Aragorn had spent the past few hours on horseback, bent over the animal's neck so he wouldn't lose sight of the tracks that were the only thing connecting him to the ones he was following. His eyes had never left the ground, not even when the stars had begun to fade in the sky after many hours, and he still felt elated, up to the point where that feeling was beginning to cloud his judgement, he was very aware of that.

The young ranger blinked tiredly as he finally dared to straighten up, a movement that caused pain to explode across his back. Muscles and tendons protested against moving after so many hours of bending forward over the neck of a horse – a most foolish thing to do – and it took several moments until the pain faded into a dull ache that was only a slight inconvenience.

Aragorn resisted the urge to rub his aching back and ran a hand through his snow-coated hair, a hand that was so frozen that it appeared almost blue in the slowly growing light that was beginning to spread in the East. It had been a long, cold night, but it had been worth it: The tracks were much clearer now, and he didn't need to hang over his horse's neck like a sack of grain to be able to follow it now. The sun would rise soon, and he was rather sure that the men had come here early yesterday evening. Which meant, he concluded hopefully, that he would be able to catch up with them in a few hours.

If nothing went wrong, of course.

And about that he wasn't quite as sure now as he had been when he had found the camp, he added darkly. Yesterday evening it had seemed as if nothing could stop him now, and the feeling had remained with him for a rather long time too, but that was changing now, and it was changing rapidly. These past few hours he might have been too concentrated on not losing the trail to notice the small signs of nervousness his horse displayed, but not anymore.

Aragorn inconspicuously made sure that his sword moved loosely in its sheath and slowed his horse's gait, his eyes wandering over his still dark surroundings. There weren't nearly as many trees covering the lands now; not nearly as many as in Mirkwood, but still enough to pose serious problems for his mortal eyesight. The shrubbery was thick and almost impenetrable as well, and he was beginning to suspect that he wouldn't even have noticed it had an entire orc horde been surrounding him, or a few trolls for that matter.

And something was close by, he was sure about it. It was a suspicion that had been growing in his mind for at least half an hour, and, now that he thought about it, he remembered that there had been some tiny indications that he was being followed much earlier, about ever since he had found the humans' abandoned camp.

Aragorn slowly guided his horse down the path and shook off the tiredness that was beginning to demand his attention. Keen eyes never left his surroundings, eyes that were beginning to dart back and forth in a rather obvious display of nervousness. He inwardly shook his head at his own foolishness and carelessness; what had he been thinking? He should have known better than to allow himself to get carried away by his relief, he should have known better than to block out his surroundings! And he certainly should have known better than to do the aforementioned things in Wilderland, and so close to Rhûn for that matter!

Wilderland was not a safe place as a rule, but the further to the East you came, the unsafer, darker and more hostile it became. There were a few human settlements scattered here and there, yes, but you could travel for miles without meeting anyone – if you were lucky. The eastern Regions of Arda were unfortunately rich in the most dangerous creatures imaginable, and orcs, wargs and other servants of the Dark Lord were not necessarily the worst of them.

Aragorn had heard many legends and rumours about the lands surrounding the Sea of Rhûn as a child, and even though some of them might have been exaggerations or plain fiction, the common theme was always the same: Those who journeyed to Rhûn often did not return, or only in pieces. The young man grimaced, for one moment forgetting the fact that there was something out there following him, and, if he trusted his feelings which he did, something that was not intending to let him continue his travels in peace. He was in fact sure that that story, the one Elladan and Elrohir had told him and in which an incautious and in the end rather limbless traveller figured most prominently, had been indeed fiction, a means to ensure that he never travelled too far east.

But still, the fact remained that people had disappeared who had strayed too far from civilised lands, one had only to think of the two Blue Wizards who had journeyed East and never returned. Not even Gandalf the Grey travelled here, and Aragorn had always thought that the wizard had probably good reason for it too. If not even the Istar wanted to go here, it meant quite a lot in the ranger's opinion.

The man took his mind off these thoughts and forced himself to concentrate on the problem at hand: That he was being followed by someone, or something. In truth, he was rather sure that it was a something rather than a someone, and in fact rather a lot of something's. His horse was beginning to get increasingly nervous and skittish, something, he reproached himself, he should have noticed about six hours ago.

Well, there was one positive thing, he told himself while he vainly tried to spy some of his pursuers, it were not men who were following him – if that was a good thing. He might be tired, exhausted and still so worried and anxious that he wasn't entirely able to concentrate, but he was a ranger, and would therefore have noticed if a group of men had been following him. There was no way he could have missed humans – or orcs, for that matter, not in this kind of terrain.

That left only two rather uncomfortable options: One, his mysterious pursuers were elves, something which he seriously doubted. The only elves that he would be likely to encounter were wood-elves, and he knew that King Thranduil's warriors wouldn't have bothered pursuing him. They would have shot him off his horse and dragged him back to the palace so their liege could kill him, and would surely not have followed him for several hours, especially when it had become clear that he hadn't even noticed their presence. Besides, his horse would hardly have got nervous had elves been near.

That only left the second possibility: Wild animals. The man ground his teeth as his head informed him of all the evidence which pointed to that fact. He had been stalked the past night, there were several of them, it was now close to daybreak, the time that most predators preferred for attacking their victims, the winter had been exceptionally harsh so most animals would be hungry if not starving…

Wonderful, Aragorn ranted inwardly as he tried to find something he could use for cover, that was exactly what he needed, to be ripped into tiny pieces by a pack of wargs when he was already so close to finding his friend! The feeling that he was being surrounded grew stronger, and for the first time his horse gave a short, nervous neigh.

The man gave the large tree that was beginning to emerge from the receding shadows of the night a longing look. It was still about a hundred yards away – which turned out to be ninety yards too far.

While Aragorn was still trying to calm his horse and persuade the beast to resume its walk in an attempt to reach the meagre cover the tree offered, his shadowy pursuers obviously decided that they had waited long enough. The only warning that the young ranger received was a faint rustling in the bushes to his left and the soft sounds of paws that sunk into the pristine mantle of snow, and that warning came several moments too late.

All of the man's fears were proven true in an instant, and before he had even turned his head into the direction of the noise, several creatures had sprung out of the undergrowth, with bared teeth and a deep, dangerous growl that would have impressed probably even the most vicious orc.

It certainly impressed the horse. The sight of the large grey creatures alone would hardly have been enough to frighten the animal, but in combination with the howling and the fact that several of the beasts instantly began to snap at its legs it was more than enough to make the horse panic. It reared up with a shocked shriek, and before Aragorn had even fully realised what was happening, he was flung from his horse's back and thrown hard onto the ground.

For a moment, the young man was too stunned and shocked to do anything more than blink in surprise as his world was unexpectedly turned upside-down. The paralysis lasted for only a few seconds, but when he had just regained his bearings and was reaching for his sword that was right now trapped extremely uselessly under his own body, two large, incredibly heavy paws were placed on his chest and he looked into the face of the most smug-looking wolf he had ever seen in his whole life. And he had seen quite a few.

For a few moments they simply stared at each other, man and wolf, the latter which an almost human expression of self-satisfaction that not even the bared, razor-sharp teeth could dispel. Then the spell was broken as another shocked neigh ripped through the cold air, causing both of them to move. Trying to ignore the fanged grin as best as he could, Aragorn did the only thing he could think of other than allow his throat to be ripped out: He punched the animal right on its long, furry nose.

The expression of shock on the animal's face would have greatly amused Aragorn under normal circumstances, but right now he didn't have enough time to even register it. All he noted was that his unexpected and admittedly useless gesture had caused the animal to reel backwards in surprise, and he swiftly used the wolf's distraction to his advantage. In the second that the animal's attention was focused on its hurting snout, the ranger rolled to the side, doing his best to ignore the way the wolf's claws were digging into him in an attempt to keep its prey immobile, and drew his knife with a speed that would even have impressed his elven friends and brothers. Well, maybe not Glorfindel, but Glorfindel was outrageously fast.

A second later the wolf decided that shaking its head in an attempt to get rid of the pain in its nose would not help it to get the first decent meal it had seen in days, and with a vicious growl the animal lunged forward again, determined to kill this man before one of the other wolves could. The thing that the wolf had not taken into account, however, was that it had given its intended prey a few seconds too many to get his bearings, and so it was met with a sharp, slightly curved dagger that was thrust right into its throat.

The large grey beast collapsed with a shocked yelp, and Aragorn struggled to remove the heavy body from his chest, gaining his feet just in time to avoid a second wolf that had soundlessly moved closer. The man quickly jumped backwards to escape gleaming white teeth that snapped together where his leg had been only seconds ago, and finally managed to wrestle his sword from its sheath.

The wolf in front of him was apparently little intimidated by the dully gleaming weapon and sprung forward with a growl that caused the young man to blink in surprise, so much did it sound like Elladan when he had done something exceptionally stupid. Something like this, a part of his mind supplied helpfully. Getting yourself eaten by a pack of wargs could probably be considered stupid in the extreme.

Before he had more time to dwell on these thoughts, the wolf was upon him, and Aragorn had to move quickly to the side to avoid having his kneecap permanently separated from the rest of his body, something that would have upset him quite a lot. The wolf missed his leg again, this time even more narrowly, and Aragorn pivoted on his heel, following the beast's movements so he wouldn't lose sight of it, something his brothers had taught him long ago. If you lost sight of a wolf or warg for a even a second, you could end up in several pieces – literally.

The wolf had either gained a new sense of respect for his enemy – which Aragorn severely doubted since he had been behaving exceptionally clumsy until now – or had been startled by the fact that it had failed to get a hold of him again and hesitated a few moments before attacking again, therefore giving Aragorn a moment to cast a look around.

When he returned his gaze to his opponent a second later, he felt more annoyed than anything else. There were only two more wolves, particularly scrawny and high-legged ones, one might add, which were currently trying to sneak up on his horse – a course of action they would surely come to regret soon.

Elven horses were intelligent creatures, and while most were not as evil as Rashwe, Legolas' horse, they still were more than capable of defending themselves against two small wolves that were trying to snap at their legs. At least for a while, which should give him more than enough time to deal with these overgrown dogs. Aragorn grinned inwardly. Rashwe would have enjoyed ripping those two wolves into pieces and then stomp on them for a while. Even though his new horse wasn't even half as malicious as the elven prince's, it appeared that it was most willing to demonstrate that elven horses, and most definitely this elven horse, did not enjoy being snapped at.

Aragorn had lingered in thought a moment too long, something he would later blame on his exhaustion, and the overgrown dog in front of him redirected his attention back to it by jumping forward and snapping at him yet again. This time the man was not quick enough to avoid the gleaming teeth altogether and merely managed to take half a step back, therefore narrowly keeping the wolf away from his throat onto which it would have latched otherwise. Half a step wasn't far enough though, and in the moment he twisted to the side and brought his sword down in a movement that should have cleaved the beast in two the wolf's jaws closed around the ranger's sword arm with a sickening, amazingly audible crack.

White hot agony shot up Aragorn's arm, and his suddenly nerveless fingers opened on their own account to release the hilt of his sword, no matter how much his mind screamed at them not to do it. The pain nearly sent him to his knees, and that was exactly where he found himself only moments later when the wolf, frenzied by the smell and taste of warm human blood, clamped down even harder on its prey's arm and twisted viciously, throwing its head from side to side in order to bring the man down.

Aragorn blinked perplexedly, not having realised he was falling until his knees touched the cold snow. The pain was unbearable; it felt as if his arm was ripped apart, broken into tiny pieces and burned to ash in the same moment, it was so overwhelming that his vision began to blur. The agony in his arm intensified as the wolf continued dragging him forward, but even through that pain the ranger looked into the yellow, gleaming eyes of his attacker and decided that he absolutely refused to die like this. In Elbereth's name, he was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, a Ranger of the North and Heir of Isildur, and he would not be killed by a common wolf that didn't even have the courtesy to be one of Sauron's wargs!

Trying with all his might to ignore the pain in his arm and the sounds of the two other wolves that had apparently noticed his predicament and had decided that eating him was a lot easier than to try and eat his horse, he tore his eyes away from the evilly glinting eyes of the beast and frantically looked around for his sword. His concentration was disrupted however when the ripping teeth tore even deeper into muscles and tendons, and a shocked cry was wrenched from his lips. Valar, he was sure that he had heard the beast's teeth scrape over bone!

Suddenly, even thought the pain did not diminish in the slightest, a burning anger was kindled in his heart, a surprising fury that turned the man's pain-glazed eyes a dark, stormy grey. He would be damned if this bunch of skinny wolves stopped him from coming to his friend's aid! If they killed him now, no-one would help Legolas, and that was something he would not allow, not while he was still drawing breath!

Gathering all his strength, Aragorn threw himself forwards, catching the snarling beast that still clung to his arm totally by surprise. The man crashed into the wolf that didn't have any time to react act all, and this time he found himself on top the momentarily stunned animal, much to his satisfaction. His right arm was still caught between the wolf's jaws, but just a moment before the animal could shake off its stunned paralysis or the other two wolves could come too close, Aragorn's left hand closed around the smooth, cool hilt of his sword that lay half-buried in the snow a foot away from them.

There had been few times Aragorn when had enjoyed killed a living being, but this was definitely one of them. He had grasped the sword and brought it up and then down in a matter of less than a second, and another second later he felt to his utmost relief how the teeth around his forearm relaxed, not entirely, but enough for him to wrench his appendage free.

He felt warm blood run down his arm and soak into the shredded remains of his shirt and tunic, but didn't have the time to spare his wound even a glance, because in just that moment the two remaining members of the little pack reached him, appearing only marginally impressed by their companions' fate. Aragorn, however, was not in a mood to be trifled with. He hadn't slept properly for days, was hungry, cold, pressed for time, worried out of his mind for his best friend, his right arm had just very nearly been ripped from his body, his horse had been frightened and almost eaten, and, most of all, he was angry. Very, very angry to be precise, and more than willing to spill some blood.

That was something the wolves quickly found out – in addition to the fact that this man could wield his blade most effectively even left-handed. A few seconds later both wolves were missing their heads and Aragorn was leaning heavily on his sword, gasping for breath as the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body subsided. Dark red blood mingled with his as it dropped to the ground, and the man raised his eyes wearily to give his surroundings that resembled a battlefield more than anything else a dark glare.

He had done it again; he had turned a perfectly peaceful journey into a disaster.

With a tired sigh he pulled his inexplicably heavy sword out of the snow and turned around, only to find himself face to face with his horse that looked at him big, soulful eyes. Concern, reproach and annoyance swirled in the animal's brown eyes, and Aragorn decided in a split second that this one looked just like his father, something he would of course never tell the elf.

The man's gaze slowly wandered over the animal's scratched legs, then to the slightly bleeding wounds on its chest and finally to the stained, churned-up snow behind them. Where his horse had defended itself lay the bodies of three wolves, bodies he had missed during the short look he had been able to spare during the battle. Each animal's head was shattered, which in fact explained the dark blood that clung to the black horse's hooves.

Suppressing another sigh, Aragorn ripped a piece of cloth out of his shirt which was ruined anyway, cursorily cleaned his blade of the wolves' blood and sheathed it somewhat stiffly, knowing that he couldn't linger here any longer. It was possible that there were more wolves prowling these woods, and if they were, he felt no desire to be found by them. Besides, he needed to find a safe place where he could look at his and his horse's wounds properly, if possible before the sun had risen completely. She was just beginning to make her way over the horizon, and since he didn't know how close he was to the humans, he really did not want to be caught in the open.

Apart from that, he still didn't feel as if he were safe. It might have been the pain in his arm, of course, or the choking worry for Legolas that still had not abated, or the adrenaline that was still flowing through his veins, but Aragorn was almost able to swear that something or someone was nearing his position – and this time he was quite certain that it was a someone rather than a something. And if he didn't want to wait for more wolves, he definitely did not want to wait for anyone else who might come this way.

Having the distinct feeling that he had no time to spare to hide the signs of the battle, something that would have taken at least an hour in his injured state, Aragorn turned back to his horse, reaching out to pat the animal's neck.
"Thank you, my friend," he told the large black animal softly. "If not for you, these beasts would surely have ripped out my throat and eaten me for breakfast. I am sorry I couldn't help you sooner."

The horse shook its head in a dismissive gesture and neighed softly, causing the young man to grin broadly even despite the pain that was beginning to spread up into his upper arm as well.
"Of course, mellon nín, forgive me; you did not need my aid." Aragorn's eyes travelled once again over the wolves' carcasses as he painfully and slowly mounted his horse. "You need a name, don't you? What about … Rácatári? Ráca for short? Would you like that? It is not exactly a name for a beautiful lady such as you, but…"

The horse interrupted his words with a quick shake of its head, and gave him a look that very clearly said that he talked too much.

"Alright," Aragorn laughed through gritted teeth as he quickly wrapped the remaining part of what had once been his right shirt sleeve around his forearm, having decided that heavy blood loss was exactly what he did not need now. Besides, he would leave an easily visible trail if he didn't get the bleeding under control soon; another thing he did not need. "Alright, Ráca it is then."

The newly named horse whinnied shortly and began to trot down the path, careful not to step onto the bodies of the dead wolves, and decided that it had a truly curious master indeed. He was quite amusing actually, much more amusing than its former master who had been a far too busy diplomat. No, this one might be slightly out if his mind, but entertaining nonetheless.

Oblivious to his horse's thoughts, Aragorn pushed the numerous complaints his body brought to his attention to the side and concentrated with all his might on finding another path he could take, a path that might take him to a sheltered place. The feeling that danger was afoot and that he mustn't stay on the road if he valued his or Legolas' life was growing even stronger.

Giving another tired sigh, the young ranger let his eyes wander over the thick shrubbery to both sides of the road in order not to miss even the smallest path. He had learned to trust his feelings, and if they told him to get off the road, off the road he would get.

His feelings were what had got him into this whole trouble in the first place, so it would be only consistent if he followed them again.

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Reran was not in a very good mood. In fact, he was in an exceptionally bad mood, something that was causing most of his men – at least the more intelligent ones – to avoid him with a purposefulness that was very close to insulting.

The blonde commander did not enjoy being insulted, least of all by his men, but right now he was far too busy cursing all the Gods he knew – and he knew a lot – to care about or even notice the other humans' behaviour. Things had been going so well until now, but it appeared that now their luck had run out.

The man gave an annoyed growl and let his dark gaze wander over the camp, his eyes almost hurting in the bright sunlight. A moment later they came to rest on the part of the camp farthest away from him, and the scowl that seemed to be permanently affixed to his face deepened. There, at the far end of the camp, were the reasons for his bad mood, all lined up neatly, as if having been placed along an invisible line.

First, Reran thought annoyed, there was of course the elf. That their "guest" would cause problems was something he had expected, but, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't believed he could be quite as infuriating. He had never before met a being that could anger him by merely looking at him with an emotionless expression, and still this Lasseg managed to. He was in fact beginning to understand Teonvan – once or twice he had felt the distinctive urge to kill the fair haired being himself, and kill him slowly at that – who was actually his second problem.

Yes, and he was beginning to suspect that this would turn out to be his direst problem yet. There was of course the fact that he loathed the man and would have simply loved to kill him, but more important was that he was beginning to give him more and more trouble. Teonvan was beginning to suffer from delusions of grandeur in his opinion, and was beginning to talk back to him openly – once even in front of the men. Reran grinned darkly. That had been something he had made the other regret quickly of course, but the fact remained. He was still convinced that he could control the younger man, yet it was getting harder and harder the more time passed and the longer Teonvan was prevented from having some "fun" with the elven prisoner.

That was the part about Teonvan that really bothered him. To Teonvan nothing was important but his personal pleasures, not even the mission and the lives of his men, which was something Reran would never tolerate. It was the younger man's first journey under his command and Reran therefore didn't expect him to feel any allegiance or loyalty to him, but every one of their lord's soldiers knew that their first and foremost duty was to their lord and the mission. To endanger that meant to endanger all their lives in foolish recklessness.

All these were things he had known for a long time, but what was really beginning to infuriate him was the younger man's inability to keep away from the prisoner. Reran's face darkened even more as his eyes wandered from the elf to his incompetent and thoroughly loathsome second-in-command. Teonvan was sitting next to one of the small campfires in the company of his two lieutenants (whose names Reran still didn't know) and was shooting their bound captive dark looks.

The human captain shook his head minutely. He really didn't know what was so hard to understand about "Keep your hands off the elf". It were only six little words, and yet Teonvan seemed unable to obey. Yesterday the entire thing had very nearly escalated, something which had filled Reran to equal parts with glee and choking fury. He had been riding at the front of their group and had called Reran to him in order to go over the route they would need to take (he had found out that Teonvan could hardly distinguish between North and South and was therefore exceptionally useless in such matters), something that had taken only a little more than half an hour. After that he had sent his young lieutenant back to the rear, and had needed to stop him from killing one of Teonvan's lieutenants only two minutes later.

Reran gave Teonvan a cold stare which the younger man didn't even seem to notice. It appeared that Teonvan had put the half hour he had had with the prisoner alone to good use, and he and his two useless lieutenants seemed to have done everything but beaten the elf off his horse. It wasn't that he doubted that the elf had deserved it to some degree, but he had given an order, a very explicit order that the prisoner was not to be harmed unnecessarily, and most certainly not by his second-in-command.

Be that as it may, when Cendan had returned the elf had been hanging barely conscious on his horse and Teonvan's lieutenant had been busy carving imaginative patterns into the fair haired being's face, much to the joy and amusement of Teonvan and most of the men present. While Cendan did have no great love for the elf, he considered him his responsibility and had therefore done the first thing that had come to his mind when faced with an act of such gross insubordination: He had dragged the man away from the prisoner, had pulled him off his horse and had been in the process of cutting his throat when Reran had got there to prevent it just in time – something the captain secretly lamented. He wouldn't have shed a tear had Cendan killed the other man in the heat of the moment, or if he had continued with Teonvan for that matter.

And if the facts that he was afflicted with an insubordinate, stupid second-in-command and a thoroughly infuriating elven prisoner were not enough, their camp had been attacked by a stray band of orcs some hours ago. At that thought Reran's eyes once again wandered over to the inert body of their prisoner who was sitting in the snow, secured to the sturdy bark of a tree and apparently asleep. It was in fact quite hard to see whether or not he was sleeping since elves apparently didn't close their eyes to visit the realm of dreams, but Reran had the feeling that Lasseg, if that was his real name, was not faking. It was apparent that the little incident yesterday had damaged the elf more than Teonvan or the elf himself wanted to admit, and when one looked at the cuts and bruises that marred the fair being's face and every single inch of exposed skin, it was not hard to see that he was indeed in pain and exhausted.

Reran studied the elf's pale face darkly, noting detachedly how the dark red cuts stood out against the white skin that was only mottled here and there by darkening bruises. Lasseg had of course only coldly informed them that the beasts had been no orcs but goblins, in a condescending, arrogant tone of voice coupled with a glance at them that had spoken of the elf's pity for their thick-wittedness. Sometimes, the man thought, he could indeed understand his second-in-command and his cravings to spill every single drop of the elf's blood, and this had been one of them. Still, he had only allowed Teonvan to hit the elf for his impudence once (well, it might have been twice or thrice) – that was the main difference between the two of them. Reran knew the limits and the meaning of self-restraint, whereas Teonvan did not, curse him.

With an effort, Reran abandoned this train of thought, knowing that he would otherwise spend a considerable part of this day contemplating all of Teonvan's and the elf's faults. The fact remained that they had been attacked by the orcs – or goblins, he did not really care which. Both parties had been taken by surprise, and before he had even known what was happening, one of his men had been dead and another dying. Three more of his men had been injured before they had managed to drive the foul things off, all of which had been assigned to guard the prisoner.

The blonde captain did indeed suspect that the orcs' only reason for attacking a numerically superior force had in fact been the elf and the orcs' infamous hatred for the elven race; that was supported by the fact that the beasts had attacked only the guards once they had caught sight of the fair haired being. They had been able to drive the foul things back before they had been able to come too close to their prisoner, but it had been a near thing. The orcs had finally fled into the darkness, unable to stand up to a group of determined humans who knew that to lose their elven captive to a band of orcs would be their death warrant.

Reran let his eyes wander over the bodies of his two dead men that lay at the far side of the camp, looking like piled up logs even in the bright sunlight. After the excitement had died down a little, Reran had sent his three best scouts after the orcs to make sure that they were in fact only a little band and not part of a larger horde that was simply waiting to ambush them again to get to the elf. That was something he would not allow; he hadn't gone through all this trouble to lose the elf to a bunch of pleasure-seeking goblins.

Reran's thoughts were interrupted when the sound of swiftly moving horses filtered through the leafless trees surrounding their camp on three sides, and he swiftly got up from the fallen tree he had sat on. Walking swiftly to the middle of the camp, he stopped next to one of the fireplaces and didn't even have to open his mouth to order the men sitting around it to leave since they immediately shot to their feet and moved off as quickly as their legs would carry them. A moment later he felt Cendan's quiet presence to his right, and much to his disappointment he saw that Teonvan also stood to his feet and came closer. Reran sighed inwardly. He would have preferred Teonvan to stay where he was, or better yet, to stay where he didn't have to see him, like inside a hungry troll's cave. Or, even better, inside a hungry troll's stomach. In tiny little, ragged, bloody pieces…

Before Reran had time to further dwell on these very attractive images, three horses appeared, passed the guards that stepped aside once they realised that the riders were their companions returning from their scouting mission, and finally came to a stop in front of Reran and his two subordinates. The men dismounted and the leader handed over the reins of his horse to one of his men before stepping closer and giving his three superiors a small bow.

"Sirs."

Reran inclined his head, an impatient expression on his face.
"You are late."

The other man dropped his eyes, instinctively sensing that his captain was in a very bad mood. This wasn't his first mission under Reran's command, but he somehow had the very bad feeling that it might turn out to be the last.
"Yes, sir. We encountered some … problems."

"Would you care to specify that?" Reran asked impatiently. All he really wanted to hear was that the orcs would not return and that they could leave. He had told their lord they would arrive in six days, and he did not even need to use his imagination to know what his liege would say if they were late.

The other man did not lift his head to look his superior in the eye; his gaze remained fixed on the snow beneath his feet as he began his report.
"We followed the orcs as you commanded, sir. They travelled west for a few hours; we found they have their holes in a steep hill there."

"And?" Teonvan asked with an impatient flick of his head, glaring at the man and causing his stringy hair to fly around his head. "Is there a point to this?"

Cendan had to stop his impatiently twitching hands from reaching for his dagger that hung at his side. He had thought it impossible for his anger and contempt to grow anymore, but he had apparently been wrong. How he loathed this man!

"Yes, sir, forgive me," the man ground out between his teeth, apparently filled with much the same feelings. "We decided to check the immediate area, just in case we had missed a bigger horde, when we came upon some curious tracks." He paused for a moment, still not raising his head. "A wolf pack's tracks."

"Wolves?" Reran asked sharply. That would be the very last thing he needed to make this an absolutely perfect day. "Here?"

"No, sir," the other man hurried to clarify. "Several hours away from here, but we decided to follow them just to be certain. We had only tracked them for a few minutes when we came upon them. They were dead, all of seven of them."

Reran frowned, not at all liking the way this was beginning to sound.
"The orcs slew the whole pack?"

"No, sir," the man repeated softly, for the first time raising his head to meet his captain's eyes. "Orcs had nothing to do with it. We found red blood amongst the other. Whoever slew them was a human – or an elf."

Reran narrowed his eyes, ignoring Teonvan's shocked intake of breath – Cendan had remained as stoic as always, of course. His men knew that he did not tolerate it when they jumped to conclusions easily; the other would have a reason for voicing such a suspicion.
"What makes you say that?"

"This, sir," the other answered softly and reached for the back of his belt, withdrawing a bundle wrapped in a strip of cloth. He offered it to his captain with a small bow, and added when Reran began to unwrap it, "We found it in the throat of one of the wolves. It appears that whoever killed the beasts was in a hurry and either didn't have the time to remove it or simply forgot about it because of his own injury. He might even have heard us; when we got there the carcasses were still warm."

Reran hardly heard the man's last words, for he had unfolded the cloth and exposed a dagger that had apparently hastily been cleared of blood that still clung here and there to its slightly curved blade. It was a beautiful weapon, well-made, sharp and deadly, but what stunned the man into silence was not the craftsmanship, even though he had rarely seen a more perfect dagger. No, what caused his eyes to nearly bulge out of their sockets was the flowing script that covered the blade, running from hilt to tip in wide, graceful arcs. Reran was anything but a scholar, but even he recognised elven letters when he saw them.

For a moment, the captain did not want to believe what this dagger clearly implicated. How could they have found them? How could the Elves have found them? He had been so careful and there had been absolutely no sign of pursuers until now…

"Sir?" Cendan's voice ripped him out of his frenzied musings. "What are your orders?"

Reran blinked quickly and stared at his lieutenant for several seconds before forcing his shocked brain to start working again.
"Get him here," he snapped curtly at the dark haired man in front of him. "Now."

Cendan did not need to ask who "he" was and simply nodded and hastened into the direction of their prisoner who had apparently awoken now by the commotion caused by the three riders, for his eyes were completely open now, fixed on his captors with burning, unwavering contempt.

Reran watched the younger man cut Lasseg's bonds, grab the elf's arm and pull him roughly to his feet and turned back to the scout, deciding to ignore the disappointed sparkle in Teonvan's eyes which were fixed on Cendan and the elven prisoner.
"There was only one and you did not follow him?" he inquired incredulously.

"We did, sir," the man answered, clearly embarrassed for he dropped his eyes yet again. "We … lost his tracks."

"You lost his tracks," Reran repeated blankly. "You are my best scouts and you lose the tracks?"

The other man shifted uncomfortably.
"He left the road a little east of the point where we found the wolves and we lost his tracks in the forest. Must have been really an elf, sir."

Reran did not answer because in that moment Cendan joined them again, pulling the elven prisoner with him who did not look intimidated at all – which he wasn't. All Legolas was was tired; tired of these people and tired of the situation. There was not a single spot of him that didn't hurt, and yesterday's "incident" was still fresh enough in his mind to remind him of what exactly these people were capable of.

The elf shuddered inwardly at the memory. The cuts on his face still stung, as did his now certainly bruised ribs, but more than the physical discomfort the memory of Teonvan's gleeful face haunted him, even in his uneasy sleep. Still, he thought determinedly, there was no way he would show these people how he felt, or how much he was secretly beginning to fear the moments when Teonvan managed to get his hands on him.

He unconsciously straightened his back and raised a mocking eyebrow, fully aware how much that simple gesture irked his captors.
"Yes?" he asked sarcastically, giving Reran a small, fake smile.

The human captain might have shown remarkable restraint when dealing with the infuriating elf until now, especially in his own eyes, but his patience and will to put up with him had disintegrated in the past few minutes. With an annoyed growl Reran's hand shot out and grabbed one of the fair haired elf's bound arms, dragging him closer.
"We might have a visitor, elf," he told him friendly, staring intently into his prisoner's annoyingly calm face. "You don't happen to know anything about it, do you?"

Legolas simply gave the man a cold stare, doing his best to ignore Teonvan's presence of which he was only too aware.
"No," he said slowly and very deliberately. "No, I do not."

The sudden blow to his face caught him totally by surprise – Reran had been the only person in this camp who had never hit him before. This could not be a good sign. It took him some moments to gain control over the pain, but he raised his head after a few seconds, not even aware of the blood that was beginning to trickle down his face from the reopened cuts in his cheek.

"Do not lie to me, elf!" Reran hissed, and suddenly the elven prince understood why these men obeyed their captain without question. They might be loyal to him or even respect him, as he had found out in the past few days, but in the end, they were afraid of him, and he was beginning to realise why. Reran in a fury was not a pretty sight.

The captain dragged him closer until their faces were only inches apart, his eyes wide and filled with anger and … fear?
"You would better answer me, Lasseg, and truthfully," Reran told the elf, a little bit calmer now. "You will regret it if you do not, believe me."

"I answer only to my king, human; to no other," Legolas told the man coldly, unable to keep the disdain out of his voice. "Certainly not to you."

"Oh?" Reran retorted, eyes darkening as he reached for the wrapped blade he had thrust back into the scout's hands a moment ago. "Is that so?" He grabbed the knife's hilt and held it up into the bright sunlight, turning the glittering blade from side to side in front of the elf's bruised face. "What say you about this, then?"

Legolas stared at the blade in the man's hand, trying very hard not to let any emotions show in his eyes even as his heart started beating twice as fast as it had beforehand. His eyes did not see the knife's beauty, did not see the sparkling metal; all he did see was the small nick in the dagger's hilt and the flowing Sindarin script running over the blade.

'Gûd dhelu Daedheloth,' he read silently, his heart falling straight into his stomach. It was a common enough inscription; especially popular among the Elves of Lórien and Imladris. He had seen this script many times when Aragorn had cleaned the blade that his brothers had brought back for him from one of their visits to their grandparents when the man had still been little more than a child. Elbereth, this was Strider's knife! What had these people done to his friend to get to his dagger?

It was one of the hardest things Legolas had ever done in his life, but he managed to keep his face expressionless and his voice steady when he met Reran's taxing gaze evenly.
"A beautiful knife. Whom did you steal it, human?"

This time, he wasn't very surprised when Reran's fist hit him just below the eye, causing his head to fly backwards. It hadn't been the politest thing to say, after all.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Lasseg," Reran hissed at the elf who was still shaking his head slightly to get rid of the ringing that seemed to echo through his skull. "Do not play games with me! You know this knife; I know you do! Who is out there? One of your men?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man, allowing the fury that filled him to show in the silver-blue orbs.
"You can hit me all you want," he told the human captain darkly. "That will not change the fact that I cannot answer your questions, even if I wanted to."

"And you do not?" Teonvan's sly voice asked to their left.

"No," Legolas said clearly, with a determined sparkle in his eyes that would have reminded everyone who knew the Elvenking of the golden haired elf. "No, I do not."

For a moment, Reran seemed to be rather tempted to hit him again, but then he appeared to pull himself together with a tremendous effort. By the Gods, he hadn't meant to lose control over himself; somehow this whole situation was beginning to get to him. He knew that the elf was lying, he simply knew it! With Teonvan and this elf grating at his nerves it would only be a matter of time before he snapped and killed one of them. Hopefully it would be Teonvan, he added after a moment.

He turned back to the scout who had done his best to become invisible in the past minutes.
"Get yourself and your men fresh horses and prepare to leave in ten minutes."

The man bowed low to his commanding officers and turned on the heel, disappearing into the direction of the horses and already calling for his two companions. Reran turned back to his two subordinates and gave the elf whose arm he was still grasping a hard shove in Cendan's direction, almost causing the fair being to stumble. He turned to Teonvan and gave him a curt nod.
"I will leave the camp in your hands."

A brilliant smile spread on Teonvan's face, and not even Cendan seemed to be able to remain stoic this time, for an expression of quickly disguised disbelief flittered over his features as he took hold of the elf's arm.
"Yes, sir," Teonvan grinned and gave the captain a small nod. "Of course, sir."

Reran's eyes narrowed in annoyance and he took a step closer to his second-in-command as he locked eyes with the younger man.
"I said I'd leave the camp in your hands, Teonvan," he stated in a low voice, "But I'll leave the elf in Cendan's. He'd better be in no worse shape than now, or you'll regret it dearly. Understood?"

A rebellious sparkle appeared in the commander's eyes, only to be crushed as quickly as it had come.
"Yes, sir," Teonvan stated flatly.

"I hope so," Reran said darkly and gave him another nod. "I seriously hope so, for your sake, Teonvan. You are dismissed."

The brown haired man returned the nod and turned on his heel, striding off into the direction of his two lieutenants, anger and resentment rolling off his shoulders in waves. Legolas swallowed reflexively, a sudden, thoroughly unwelcome stab of fear going through his heart. If Reran really believed that Teonvan would heed his orders, he was a fool. Then again, he thought darkly, eyes still fixed on the human's retreating back, it just might be that Reran simply didn't care anymore, not after the things he, Legolas, had just thrown into his face.

Cendan seemed to be filled with the same disbelief, for he turned to his captain imploringly, the captive whose arm he was still gripping completely forgotten.
"But, sir!" he hissed. "How long will you be gone? You cannot be serious!"

Reran turned back to his lieutenant, something that looked almost like pity shining in his eyes. He didn't envy Cendan's position in the slightest.
"Because I am the only one who could find our 'visitor's' tracks, you know that, Cendan. These idiots here couldn't find a trail if it were painted in red on the ground."

The younger man ground his teeth, knowing that to be true. Reran was the best tracker here; if there was anyone who could track this elusive elf, it was him. That didn't change his feelings about this in the slightest, of course.
"This is a mistake, sir! Far be it from my mind to question your orders, but…"

"Then don't," Reran advised his subordinate curtly. "I am not in the mood to discuss anything with you, least of all my orders. Do as you're told. We'll be back this evening either way. Or," he added, "do you have a problem with that?"

"No, sir. No problem," Cendan replied quickly, his eyes fixed on Reran's left shoulder. "We'll be awaiting your return."

"Good," the captain nodded and let his eyes briefly rest on the elf who didn't even pretend he had not been listening to their conversation. "Let's see if we can find that friend of yours, eh, Lasseg? You know, the one you know nothing about? If he's here, I'll find him, and he'll wish the wolves had eaten him after all."

Legolas merely looked at the human captain, his eyes managing to look both burning and cold as a freezing pool in mid-winter. He should have known that he would not be believed when he claimed that he didn't know the dagger, and ... had this man just mentioned wolves? Wolves and Aragorn were a combination he really did not want to think about…

He had known that the ranger would come and find him, and a part of him was still singing with joy, but the incomparably larger part of him was filled with all-defining worry. How had Estel found him? Was he really alone? Had the wolves injured his friend? How badly had he been hurt? What could have caused Aragorn to leave his blade behind?

The elven prince blinked when he realised that Reran was still waiting for an answer, and he narrowed his eyes, the silver-blue orbs darkening even further.
"You will never track him," he stated coldly, hoping with all his heart that he was speaking the truth. "Take all your scouts with you or none – it will avail nothing. You are just a human. How could you find him?"

This time, it was Cendan who hit him, therefore foiling his plan to roll with the blow. He had expected Reran to strike him and had therefore been prepared for a blow from the left, not the right. Well, he thought dazedly, tasting the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, there was always next time.

Reran simply smiled at him once he had managed to raise his head again – something that was becoming increasingly difficult – and it was the sort of smile that did nothing to put the elf's heart at ease.
"We'll see about that, elf," he said curtly, already turning on his heel and walking over to the three scouts who were waiting with their horses at the far end of the camp, ready to set out. "We found you and your friends, did we not?"

"A singular event, believe me," Legolas said darkly, trying to ignore the pain and fear for his friends that once again awoke in his heart at the man's words. "Do not trust in fortune to aid you a second time, human. It would be the last thing you ever do."

Reran had already passed out of earshot and showed no indication that he had heard him, and so it was Cendan's voice that spoke next while the young man was dragging the elf back to the tree he had been bound to last night.
"What could a single elf do against us anyway?" he snorted, his thoughts already miles away.

He gave the four horses that were leaving the camp right now a short glance while he was securing the prisoner once again to the dark tree. He had the distinct feeling that Reran was making a mistake, and a grave mistake at that. Teonvan wouldn't heed their captain's orders, and if the other man really set his mind to having some "fun" with the elf, there was little he could do to stop him. True, most of the men didn't like Teonvan more than your average mountain goblin or an especially contagious disease, but they liked the elf even less. No-one who had killed seven of their comrades could expect anything but hatred and spite. They would not help him to keep Teonvan away from the captive, and if the other man gave him a direct order he would not be able to disobey it…

Cendan shook his head and secured the last knot, looking up to meet the flinty, hard eyes of the elf who, if he was frightened by the prospect of spending the next hours in a camp under Teonvan's command, was hiding his emotions most admirably indeed.

"What could a single elf do against you?" Legolas repeated softly, in a tone of voice that appeared like steel despite its calmness. "Wait but a few hours, Cendan, and you will find out, though I fear that you will never get the chance to admit your error of judgement."

For a moment, Cendan's fierce temper flashed to life in his eyes before he regained control of himself. Let Teonvan have his way, the man thought darkly. It would serve this one right. Cendan glared at the elf as he stood to his feet, annoyance plain to see on his face.
"Sometimes, elf," he hissed before turning on his heel and walking off, "Sometimes I can almost understand Teonvan."

Of course, Legolas thought sourly, very anxious to keep his thoughts off his momentary situation. That was something quite a lot people were saying lately. They all seemed to "almost understand" Teonvan – why, that was beyond the elven prince's ability to understand. He leaned back against the dark bark at his back, his eyes straying unconsciously to the brown haired commander who was standing a few dozen feet away from him, apparently deep in conversation with his two lieutenants.

The fair haired elf felt how his mouth went dry as the man seemed to sense his gaze and turned his head to give him a false, gleeful smile. One didn't need to possess the gift of foresight to know that this was not a good sign. In fact, one only needed half a brain to understand that it was a bad sign, to be more precise, the worst sign imaginable.

He did not doubt that Teonvan was already planning something he didn't even want to know about, even though he would, equally undoubtedly, find out. And what if he had been wrong, what if Reran and his men did manage to track Aragorn? Despite of what he had told Cendan he was only too keenly aware that Aragorn was in fact not one of the Firstborn; what if they managed to find the ranger's trail? What if they captured him too, what if Teonvan somehow got his hands on his friend?

What was left of the prince's composure instantly evaporated, and suddenly the pain of every single cut, bruise, welt and other injury he had sustained at the human commander's hands – and there were quite a lot – seemed to multiply, causing him to bite down hard on his lip to stifle the moan of pain that rose inside of him. O Elbereth, he thought frantically, anything but that! There was absolutely no way he would allow Teonvan to lay even a single finger on Aragorn, not while he still breathed!

The elf's thoughts were beginning to go in circles, faster and faster and becoming more worried the more time passed. What had happened to Aragorn? Why had he left his dagger? Why in the name of the One was he not at the palace? Legolas ground his teeth as he forced himself to stop panicking. It was not an easy task, since he knew that the men obviously needed him and wouldn't kill him until they had reached their home, but they didn't need Strider. Reran didn't strike him as the sort of man who carried extra-luggage with him, especially extra-luggage that might pose a threat to his mission. No, Legolas decided with more than a little trepidation, Reran would kill the ranger rather than take him with him. The human captain might even allow Teonvan to kill him, that would solve two of his problems at once…

The slowly spreading panic inside Legolas' chest began to grow, fuelled by his maddening helplessness. There was nothing he could do to change anything, nothing at all, all he could do was sit here, hope that Estel had enough sense to stay away and wait for Teonvan to make the first move. Fear began to circle his heart like a pack of wargs their prey and joined the barely suppressed panic and worry for his friend that filled his entire being. Only a fool would not be afraid of what Teonvan might come up with, and Legolas was anything but. Still, if Reran somehow managed to capture his friend and Teonvan…

His thoughts continued in that direction for quite some time, until in the afternoon, a few hours after Reran and the others had left, the camp began to stir. The men were amassing at the other side of the camp, most of them looking disconcertingly gleeful, even though there were a few who looked reluctant and even angry, including Legolas' guards and Cendan whose expression couldn't even be called angry anymore. The only terms that seemed to fit, Legolas thought detachedly, were "overcome with fury" and "incredibly disgusted".

A moment later, Teonvan stepped out of the men's midst and began to strut over to him, and when Legolas looked into his eyes and saw the sparkle of anticipation in the man's dark orbs, a part of him was almost glad that it was directed so exclusively at him.

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TBC...

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mellon nín - my friend
Rácatári (Quenya) - 'Wolf-queen'
Gûd dhelu Daedheloth - Deadly foe of the Great-Fear (i.e. Morgoth's Realm)

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Yes, as I promised you, there will be your much-awaited elf torture next chapter, don't worry. *shakes head* You guys are even worse than I am, and that means quite a lot in my opinion. *g* So, we have that, a little bit of the twins and Celylith and of course Aragorn who once again does something incredibly ... stupid. *g* All that and more on Sunday or Mon... oh, whom am I kidding anyway? The next chapter will be here on Monday, I'm sorry, but I'm too busy right now to make it any sooner. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, cherished and loved. *g*

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Additional A/N:

Iverson - Well, it's a Hollywood movie so Tom Cruise had to be the survivor. It would have been too unpredictable otherwise, right? *g* Don't worry about reviewing on time, it's not important. I know how very irritating Real Life can be. *g* And I guess you're right, the twins are NOT happy right now. And I am not giving anyone evil looks, I don't even know how to do that! I am a very kind person! *evil grin* I am of course glad that you liked the evil lord. I love him, but I love all my villains so I might be slightly biased. *g* So the evil dude is like a Marine out of an army commercial? I have to say that I've never seen one and we don't have things like army commercials here, so I'll take your word for it. Thank you for your compliment, and I am very happy to hear that I manage to distract you from your work. It might be highly unproductive, but it makes me happy. *sighs* I know, I'm insane. Don't tell me.
Alisha B - LOL, yes, that would be what Legolas would do! *g* And hey! Are you suggesting that Celylith ... and the twins ... evil person, you! It was a matter of speech, nothing else! *g* But I'm glad the little mental picture 'amused' you if nothing else! *blinks* Aragorn's head in a box - alright. I see. You're sure you're still normal, aren't you? And I agree: Sleep is the best thing ever! I love sleeping! Hmm, about the snow... Let's just assume that there's lots on the ground. There might be some wind though since it's a snowstorm (Well, Duh, I'm stupid! *g*), so it might blow the snow all over place, yes. LOL, you're right, only evil people or creatures have yellowish eyes. And you don't read too much into it, but you probably SHOULD wait. Just a little bit longer, of course. *g*
Gwyn - *confused* Who is adorable? They're all adorable - most of them anyway. Not Teonvan, of course, even though in an evil, twisted sort of way he probably IS adorable. *g* I kinda like him. I know, don't say it. I'm sick.
TrinityTheSheDevil - *g* Up to his ears and still sinking? You could say that... LOL, sinking like a mûmakil in a sandpit? Did anyone ever tell you that you're evil? Very evil? I guess so... The idea of a bald Glorfindel is quite interesting though. I am already planning a fic where Legolas' hair gets cut or dyed (which would probably give him a heart attack *g*), so I could put him into that. And don't encourage Thranduil, or he might heed your advice and really hang himself from a tall structure. That would be bad. Plus, it would make Legolas unhappy - but then again, the dwarves would be ecstatic. *evil grin* Hmmm....
Firnsarnien - Uhm, yes, I did have to stop there. I wanted to keep writing but I couldn't. There was this big elven warrior who appeared out of nowhere and dragged me away from the computer, honestly! *g* And I don't do deals. Well, yes, I do, but not those ones. People always want more angst or more pain or more whatever and blame me for violating our deal. *shakes head* You and your tender lovin' care. You're obsessed, did you know that? Yup, I guess you did. And I know you're bloodthirsty. I don't say that you're the worst of the lot, but... *trails off* Whatever, you're bad. *g*
Elenillor - Thank you! I hope you're going to enjoy the rest as well - if you're ever going to catch up, of course. *g* Thanks a lot for the review!
Mouse 5 - Oh yes, I DO love the mysterious evil dude thing. Who doesn't? I love writing them - they're so ... so ... so cool, I don't know what else to say. *g* *blinks quickly* Uhm, the twins, Celylith and Glorfy will do ... no, they wouldn't ... how the heck did you know? Am I that predictable? Are you psychic? *shakes her* Tell me!
XsilicaX - *huggles her* Thank you! So many reviews just for me! *huggles her again* Thanks!! I doubt I have enough space here to reply to all of them, but I'll try nonetheless - I guess I'm just as stubborn and stupid as Estel... *g* You're right of course. It would be pretty funny if nothing happened to them only one time they go somewhere without getting themselves into deadly peril. *g* And you're what? BEGINNING to become FOND of Glorfindel? Hello? Wake up! You are completely obsessed! And I am of course very sorry that you don't like my cliffies. I will try to ... heck, no! I LOVE cliffies! Mhahahahaahah! *evil laugh* Thanks for your help with the typos/grammar and so on. Half of the mistakes are really just typos or stupid things I know better, but the rest are things I will never learn, I fear. I'm too stupid. *sobs* And I agree. A story about a sick Elrond would be rather nice. *sighs* When is your birthday? I could throw in a wounded Glorfindel as well and you'd be happy. I have picked up the habit up giving people birthday stories, I'm already planning one for Marbienl. *sighs again* I don't know what possessed me either. And no, I don't get put to bed when I have a cold. It's different when I have a really bad flu though. I always thought that Aragorn would get put to bed because he's human and they're elven healers. They don't have much experience with human illnesses, so it's "better safe than sorry", I guess. *g* Oh, and I am sorry for killing Galalith, but it was necessary, really. It was why I started writing this whole thing in the first place; you'll understand eventually, don't worry. I nnow I'm not making very much sense right now. *g* LOL, so I'm not allowed to kill Celylith or Erelas, but I'm allowed to kill Celythramir? Now that's not fair! I'm rather sure Celylith won't be so happy to hear you say that... *g* And I know you like Glorfindel owies. You're not the first to demand some, btw, I have already promised Sabercrazy some, so, yes. There will be some. *evil grin* As I said in the A/N: How did you know about the wolves? I know, it's more or less obvious, but... *trails off* I've become predictable. Well, be that as it may, thank you! *huggles* It's great to have you back, and thanks so much for all the reviews! *huggles again*
Bailey - Yes, of course Celylith and the twins will find out what has happened to Legolas and Aragorn. And Aragorn is being what? Goofy? What exactly is that supposed to mean? I mean, yes, he put his fingers into the fire pit, but he was ... well, distracted? Uhm, worried? Not goofy! Aragorn: Exactly! Rangers are not goofy! And you couldn't sic Glamir on me, he's my OC. He does whatever I tell him. *g*
Mystic Girl1 - Versteh' ich doch vollkommen. Das echte Leben hat diese dumme Angewohnheit Aufmerksamkeit zu verlangen, und je laenger man es ignoriert, desto mehr aergert es einen. Und ich glaube, es hat niemanden ueberrascht, dass Aragorn Legolas verfolgt hat. Er ist nun mal ein dummer, sturkoepfiger Ranger, ne? *g* Es ehrt mich natuerlich, dass du meine Finsterlinge magst. Ich mag sie doch auch. *knuddelt Finsterlinge* LOL, Glofindel tut was? Thranduil mit einem Balrog verwechseln? Ich weiss ja nicht ... ist die Aehnlichkeit wirklich so verblueffend? Ach, und: Ich liebe das Wort Katastrophenkommando. *g* Toll.
Bookworm, .303 - *g* Don't worry, you didn't offend me. I was joking. I am very much un-offended. *g* But I absolutely refuse to admit that it's my fault. It's either yours (= the readers') or the characters' fault. Take your pick. *g* And I remember you! Cara ... yes, I think there were some reviews earlier.... It's insane; I cannot remember names at all, but I can remember almost all my reviewers' names. I need help. *g* And I inspired you? Whoah, that's flattering - and alarming. I didn't mean to encourage anyone to anything! *innocent expression as she looks at characters* Really!
Forever Unstoppable - Yeah, lots of people missed Legolas. But he's back *huggles him* and won't go anywhere in the near future either. Lucky him - or not... And yes, you have to wait for another chapter, sorry about that. You'll manage. *g* Thanks for the review!
Strider's Girl - I honestly don't know how anyone could think that they're elves. I mean, elves don't have yellowish eyes, do they? And even if they did, they would have dragged Aragorn off his horse and would have brought him back to Mirkwood so their king could kill him. I don't think they would have followed him. And there aren't many elves East of Mirkwood except Mirkwood elves. So: No elves. Sorry. But it was meant to be confusing, don't worry.
Rabbit of Iron - *looks at her room* Nope, not a cave. Not really, at least. After your little incredulous outburst I looked it up on the internet, and after having read several summaries and reviews (all positive, btw) I see why I've never heard of it. A. It's not the kind of movie I like. I don't even like Mary Poppins. I just don't like musicals. B. It's older than thirty years. I know very few movies older than that. Except things like Casablanca and Hellzapoppin. Do you know Hellzapoppin? Now THAT'S a great movie! *g* C. It's not something you would see on TV here just like that. You probably know that it was forbidden in Germany in the sixties and seventies because of some of the Nazi scenes? *leans closer and whispers* That's where I live. They show it now, but I doubt it has such a large fanbase here.

Narina Nightfall - *blinks* Congrats - I guess? You're the keeper of Galadriel's mirror? Well, I guess it's a very ... responsible post... *g* And I'm glad the mirror doesn't show where this is going - not even I know, so why should that bloody mirror know? I promise that I'll try and read your fanfic, but right now I really don't have the time. Technically speaking I don't have the time to write this story, but as soon as everything calms down I promise I will read and reviw, of course. Deal? *g* Writing on peoples' heads isn't nice? Why did no-one tell me?! It's so much fun! Uhm, yes, we met Erelas in chapter ... 9, I think, he's the one who brought the fur, and no, the advisor doesn't have a name. I was afraid of giving him one since the poor elf woulf probably be getting hate mail by now. Uhm, and yes. There are ill-tempered dragons. Just remember that one chapter in The Hobbit , what's its name, "Inside Information"? But I think there was no smoke coming out of his ears, he merely ate the party's ponies. Sorry, but I haven't read that book, or heard of it either. It's good then? I probably do need help since Teonvan IS twisted and slimy, but Lasseg is Sindarin, I'm afraid. Add "-eg" to (almost) any noun and you have the diminutive form. Hmm, there are other foul creatures in Mirkwood, for example evil bats. *g* Don't look at me like that, it's in The Hobbit. Not to mention several other things Morgoth created. And I really think you're deceiveing yourself. Elrohir is just as bad as Elladan. You have a little obsession with him, did you know that? Yeah, I guess you did, but I thought I'd say it nonetheless. Oh, and Elrohir would never torture me, he's too smart for that. Besides, I wouldn't tell him anything about the plot anyway. *g* Yay! You're right! Good guess! *shakes her hand* Well done! Thank you very much for the three huge reviews! *huggles*

Red Tigress - LOL, great you liked the horse. It is kinda cute, true. And don't worry, I'm rather sure that Celylith will eventually come up with a way to avenge his poor, defenceless bow. The twins better look out. *evil grin*
Dha-Gal - Well, I guess you could say that. They're not overly nice at least. *g* *reads review with wide eyes* Well ... I would be lying if I said that I completely understood what you and all these people were talking about, so I won't say anything. It's ... very interesting, that's what it is. You have a Reviewing Office? Well, that's professional if nothing else... *g*
Elvendancer - *g* Well, then I'll try to update AND make sense at the same time, what about that? Hmm, I like HP as well, but, well, Ms. Rowlings just isn't a professor of linguistics, is she? It just doesn't sound as well, and Tolkien was a genius anyway. *g* But I still like the books.
Iavala - *bows* Thank you! It's great to hear that you like all my weird stories, and I really hope you'll enjoy the rest of this one as well! Thanks a lot for taking the time to review, I really LOVE reviews!
Ellyrianna - *rubs it in* Yup, it's been a while. I missed you. I spent whole days crying in my room because I thought you didn't like me anymore... *g* J/k. I know that you are busy. And your birthday is on the 30th? I won't say Happy Birthday now since it's going to bring you bad luck (that's what people here believe, anyway), but I hope that you have a great day and get lots of wonderful presents! And I hope it's enough elf/ranger angst in here to make you happy. I doubt it though... *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - Uhm, yes. It would be a bit early for Gollum. *g* And I agree: Celylith does need a holiday. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to go to Mordor for a while - can't be worse than Mirkwood right now, eh? *g* I hope both your exams went well, and thanks a lot for taking the time to review nonetheless! *huggles*
Liin Sivi - LOL, yes, it would have been rather strange for Thranduil to threaten some poor messenger with torture, even if he were having an especially bad day. *g* Well, perhaps if it were one of Elrond's messengers. *blushes* Well, it's very flattering that you like my writing so much, even though there are lots of fics out there that are better than mine by far. *g* Thanks nonetheless!
Amelie - Well, I'm very happy to hear that your mom didn't make you eat rocks. That would have been disconcerting. *g* It would be quite interesting if Celylith got a heart attack though - he'd be the first elf to get one, that's for sure. And yes, your reviews are slightly weird, and so are your conversations if you really talk about things like that. *g* Proving once again that we're all insane here. *grins insanely* See?
Critternut - Nope, we can't have it all. Not all the time, anyway. *g* *sighs tiredly* No, no leg injuries, at least not in the near future. Okay? Okay. So you heard the music when Glamir's name was mentioned, huh? Well done! *g* And yes, Estel finally found something, we're all very proud of him. *pats his head*
Nikara - Oh, I know. January is always incredibly busy, I don't know why either. Another one of these evil laws of nature, I guess. And yes, there will be some Aragorn injuries as well, I would never neglect him. That would be very unfair. *evil grin*
Calenore - LOL, it would really scare me if your boss were anything like our dear evil lord at the beginning. In that case you really ought to get another job. *g* And now that you mention it, that could create a little problem. I mean, if Celylith wanted to put the twins into a snow drift without clothes and Legolas wanted to glue their clothes to their bodies - what would they do then? It would be a tough choice for them, I'm sure... *g*
Snow-Glory - Uhm, yes, Aragorn will make it to Legolas, but before the shadowy things make an appearance - hmm, read on and you'll find out. But hey: What do you think? What would be more fun? *g* I know, I'm evil.
Orlandofan13 - Well, it's alright to write about a girl character, as long as Legolas doesn't fall in love with her. I guess I haven't read a story yet in which that happens and which wasn't a Mary-Sue. There is a very good Mary-Sue checklist though, and it's wonderful. Let me I hope this link doesn't disappear, they sometimes do. It's really great though. *g*
Just Jordy - Thank you! I am very glad of course that you liked the last chapter, it's always nice to know that I'm not disappointing people. The twins won't be in every chapter from now on though, I simply don't have the time. *grins sheepishly* Sorry.
Alilacia - I hope your computer is alright now - stupid, of course it's alright, otherwise you wouldn't have written that last review. Sorry, I'm not really thinking today, I mean, today I am thinking even less than usual. I know, it's scary. *g* You're using the Dragonflame dictionary, huh? It's good, but not perfect. They don't have many pre- or suffixes, but then again I guess that's more grammar. *g* And yes, something is going to happen to Glorfindel, eventually. Not for a very long time though, sorry to disappoint you. I hope you don't have to work too many night shifts anymore, they can really begin to annoy you.
Emerilian - *waves back* Great that you like it! The grey shadowy figures most certainly make an appearance in this chapter - would be boring otherwise, right? Thanks a lot for the review - I really, really love them. *grins insanely*
Firniswin - LOL, yeah, I wouldn't be able to see a thing either. If you aren't Númenórean or an elf, you're really at a disadvantage. *shakes head* Life is unfair. *sighs tiredly* Yes, there will be some Aragorn angst/pain. You people are really bloodthirsty. And rather insane. *g*
Karone Evertree - Uhm, fangirls. The grey shadowy things are fangirls - we all know how vicious they can be... *g* And why do you think that? I think Celythramir would be delighted if Celylith wanted to go looking for Legolas and get himself into almost certain deadly peril - what? Don't you think so? *innocent smile*
Sirithiliel - Don't worry, the review wasn't late. It was on time and wonderful, thanks! Great you liked it, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well!
Zam - LOL, it is indeed unbelievable! You don't have much to say? *worriedly* Are you alright? You're not ill or anything? *g* They're doing what? Playing Twister? First the orc horde with Trivial Pursuit and now they with Twister - you really own strange people, did you know that? You know what? They're right! Maybe Glamir needs an assistant! He could do the real torture and then you could come in and annoy them to death! *pats KotD on the back* Well done! It's of course always nice to see that Celythramir likes you so much - even though I have to agree with Celylith: It is slightly scary. LOL, Tilion is what? A stalker? Well, that is an interesting way to see it... *looks at Zam who is currently shaking the poor author* Uhm, okay. Rashwe is alright. I promise. Really! *smiles innocently*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Oh, I know what you mean. Every time we move - and we're moving quite a lot - they don't manage to provide internet access on time. Why is that, I ask you? Why?? *calms down* Sorry, it's just very annoying. And yeah, I thought about the fangirls, but decided that it'd be too cruel. *g*
Cestari - Uhm, don't worry. *pats her back carefully* It's alright. We all have busy lives - have you ever thought about getting yourself another email address? That would be easiest, wouldn't it? Just an idea. *shrugs* I like your equation btw. Very true. *shakes head sadly* The two of them are a walking disaster. Or, more often than not, a non-walking disaster. *g* And don't worry, I don't let myself be pressured, it's just a handy excuse. It's my story, MINE! My own! My precious! *g*
Marbienl - I honestly don't know yet. The who-is-going-to-kill-whom-question is usually decided in the last few chapters, so, it's still a long time. And I'm afraid that I won't let anyone kill anyone because it would given them a boost of self-confidence. *shakes head* Really... Wait a moment, you've never heard of Kathy Reichs? She's not German, she's an American author, and writes about the best thrillers I know. Her first book was either "Dejà Dead" or "Death du Jour", I think. Go and read her books. She's great and WAY better than Patricia Cornwell. *blinks* The ideas you get - how in the name of God should someone who is not a Maia or something like that manage to put his mind into someone else's body? It's far easier, and I really don't do things like that. I like to keep everything 'realistic', which sounds rather strange in this universe... *g* *blinks again* You and your nightmares. I really think that Estel is a little too busy at the moment (and in future chapters) to have nightmares, sorry. Congrats, you guessed what the shadows were, and my plot bunnies aren't even bunnies. They're - I don't know. No bunnies though.
Crytal-Rose15 - *blinks* Those scenes were sad? Really? Uhm, as long as you liked them.... *evil grin* Well, if you like dark humour, you're just right here - but you know that already, I guess. Great you liked this chapter! *huggles* Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!
Suzi - You do realise that, every time I read that you're going back home, I become intensely jealous. You have no idea how lucky you are to be able to go back up North so often... *dreamy expression* I would love to do that... I don't understand though why you had to go looking for the map - hte link should have worked! *glares at Netscape* It hates me, I swear it does. The surrounding text wasn't so interesting either, just about who made camp where during which campaign, things like that, you know, Drusus, Tiberius, Germanicus and all the other nice people. *g* And the pic is great! I mean it, really great! I have never managed to figure out Adobe - I'm simply too stupid to figure out anything having to do with photos. I'm hopeless, I know. *whines* Make another one! Please!!
Carrie - *is very much impressed* History Masters, huh? That's what I hope to get myself one day - or something that comes close to it. Perhaps it's even the same, I think we have different systems, but then again, it's called M.A. (Magister Artium) here is well. We don't do Bachelors though, you do five years and get the MA in the end - or not. *g* So, I'm very much impressed. *g* Adruran, however, won't turn up, sorry. They will find out where Reran and his friends come from though. You're having eye surgery? EEk! Good luck!
Starlight - Ja, Aragorn ist wieder da. *knuddelt ihn* Ich koennte ihn doch nicht einfach so links liegen lassen! *g* LOL, das mit dem Schild ist gar nicht mal so weit hergeholt. 'Kostenloses Frischfleisch' wuerde eine Menge erklaeren, wenn man mal darueber nachdenkt... Du bist auch so einer von diesen blutruenstigen Typen, huh? Keine Angst, elf angst/torture was auch immer ist auf dem Weg. *g* Hast du auch 'ne Voodoo-Puppe? Wirkt klasse, 'ne? *g*
Leggylover03 - Hmmm, let me see. Will Thranduil find them? That would be a No. Will Estel find Legolas soon? Yes. Will they suffer? Depends on your definition. Knowing your definition, Aragorn probably won't. Are the twins going to join the hunt? What do you think? *g* That were quite a few answers! *g*
Sabercrazy - LOL, your lightsaber is PURPLE? You know, I still think that the colour ruined the whole 'I'm a threatening Jedi give yourself up Tyranus'-routine for Mace Windu. I mean, purple? What was he THINKING? *g* Great you two have worked out your differences though. *g* LOL, the twins take danger out for drinks and a movie? I don't know why, but I simply fell out of my chair when I read that. Soo funny... *g* And you're right: The two of them are remarkably predictable. It's almost sad, isn't it?
Salara - Was, du magst keine Riesenspinnen? Kann ich ueberhaupt nicht verstehen - sie sind doch so richtig knuddelig... *schaudert* Ich gebe zu, ich versteh' den lieben Celylith da auch nicht. Und okay, du hat recht. Celylith hat 'nen kleinen Tick mit seinem Bogen - aber er ist nun mal ein dummer Walbelb. Die spinnen alle. *g* Und ich muss aufs Schaerfste protestieren! Es sind nicht die Regeln "meiner" Kunst, es sind, uhm, nun ja, _Teonvans_. Er ist nun mal ein Fiesling, das ist nicht meine Schuld. *unschuldiges Laecheln* Und auf meiner Reihenfolge rangiert der Gute auch ziemlich weit vorne! Eigentlich ganz vorne, gefolgt von den Zwillingen, Elrond, Fëanor und Legolas. In dieser Reihenfolge. *g* Ist toll, dass du dich "baerig" freust - fuer dieses Wort muss ich dich einfach knuddeln! *knuddelt sie* So, schon fertig, keine Angst. *g* Danke sehr fuer die riesenlange, tolle Review!
Jazmin3 Firewing - Oh, the THING! Now I know what you mean, we have one like that too. It's amazing, isn't it, give it a few socks a week and it's quite nice! I think I'll take that hiding place in your basement, but only if the thing _stays_ in your sister's room. Deal? I'll tell Legolas that you liked his new name, though. *g*

*dons winter clothes* Bye! I'm off to get myself into trouble! If I don't update on time, I'm in the hospital undergoing emergency surgery! *g* Wish me luck!