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.

15. A Darkness Felt

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

*limps in, in full-body cast, sporting several gruesome injuries* Yeah, thanks for the concern. Sledding was great, that was, great until that evil, sneaky, vicious tree decided to jump right in front of my sled. In a way, I am relieved it did though, because it once again proves what I've known for a long time: The Valar hate me. *g* No, wait a second, they hate _Legolas_ - ah, whatever. *grins broadly* J/k, I'm fine. Since it was already dark and very late there were no annoying little children we had to look out for, so we had indeed lots of fun, and no-one got hurt - badly. *g*

There is one common misunderstanding floating around here, so I thought I'd use the opportunity to cause some more confusion. *evil grin* Most of the people here seem to think that the twins and Celylith will come to our intrepid duo's rescue - why is that? I mean, there are many other possibilities to consider here, and most of them are _way_ more fun than allowing two Noldor, a (presumably) Vanya and a Silvan elf to come to our heroes' aid in the last minute. Just think about it. *g* Confused yet? Yes? Good. *evil grin*

I have also noted with some concern that I got a disturbing amount of reviews saying essentially "Yes! Hurt Aragorn, hurt Legolas, hurt them, hurt them, hurt them!!!". This has gone on long enough now. I have to state that I do _not_ enjoy writing torture, that I _am_ a nice kind of person who enjoys fluffy H/C scenes and that all people who say otherwise must confuse me with my _alter ego_, which is, admittedly, a comprehensible mistake. *smiles innocently* Okay, now that that's clear, I also have to announce that this is the first chapter with a PG-13 rating, at least that's what I think. So, twelve year olds and younger: Off to bed, you should be sleeping anyway. Shoo! *g*

I can almost see how most of you are twitching impatiently already, so I'll shut up. *readers cheer* Now, that wasn't very nice. *pouts* Whatever, yes, here is the elf torture you so desperately wanted, we see that Teonvan is indeed able to reason with others if it gets him what he wants, we see a little more of the twins and Celylith, and, as advertised, Aragorn does something incredibly ... stupid. *g*

Have fun and review, please!

---

Chapter 15

A few moments later, Teonvan stopped in front of his captive, the biggest and most self-satisfied smirk on his shallow, yellowish face that Legolas had ever seen. Not even an orc who was about to kill an elf looked that smug, the prince decided with the detachment that only impending doom could bring, and orcs weren't exactly known for their restraint.

Indeed, Legolas decided while he was smiling at Teonvan whose face was beginning to fall at his prisoner's outward dispassionateness. Now that he thought about it, Teonvan shared quite a few character traits with orcs – no, make that a lot. He even looked a bit like an orc; if one took away most of the hair and added a pair of pointed ears, the resemblance was indeed astounding…

Teonvan's grin that had faltered a little grew again as he stared at the elf, a warm, gleeful feeling spreading through his entire body. Finally, after all these days of waiting he had the chance to teach this one a lesson…

"So," he said pleasantly. "We're finally alone, elf."

Legolas gritted his teeth and pushed the fear that beginning to envelop him to the back of his mind. If this was going to happen, he could at least tell this man a few things he had been waiting to say for a long time.

"It is as I thought," he stated slowly, as if voicing something he had been thinking about for some time. "You cannot even count. To stand in a clearing with fifteen other people is not exactly what a normal person would consider 'alone'."

It came as no surprise to Legolas when one of Teonvan's lieutenants stepped closer and dealt a blow to his face that slammed his head backwards against the tree at his back, almost causing him to black out. It took the elven prince quite some time until he had shaken off the grey fog that threatened to pull him under and had gathered enough strength to lift his head, and when he did he instantly wished he hadn't. The gleam in Teonvan's eyes was enough to make him feel sick – even thought that might also have been because his head had just made contact with an incomparably harder tree trunk. Yes, he decided fuzzily, it was probably because of that. His head might be hard, but a tree was even harder.

Teonvan simply grinned at the elf in front of him, appearing like the happiest man this side of the Misty Mountains, which he probably was.
"You don't learn, elf, do you? I have to say that I'm not overly disappointed about that, since it makes everything so much more enjoyable! Please, do you have anything else to say? I am sure my companions," he nodded at his two grinning lieutenants and the just as broadly grinning men at his back, "are most eager to hear your opinions."

Before Legolas could reply anything which would undoubtedly have not been conducive to his health, a man had pushed through the throng of humans surrounding the tree their prisoner was bound to and placed himself between the elf and Teonvan, an expression on his face that bordered on murderous.

"I protest once again, sir," Cendan said, his voice flat and barely controlled. "Captain Reran assigned the duty of guarding him to me, not to you. He is not to be harmed; that were the orders."

"Captain Reran, Lieutenant," Teonvan said languidly, turning around and smiling at the younger man, "is not here. I am, however, and, as we all know, he entrusted the safety of the camp to me, not to you. Is that not correct?"

Cendan's eyes darkened to an inky blue colour as he stared at his superior. The need to kill him for disobeying their captain's orders burned brightly in his veins, and yet he felt that Teonvan was up to something, something that would allow him to have his way.
"Yes, sir, it is."

"Then, Lieutenant," Teonvan stressed the other's rank, looking around him with eyes that were challenging any of those present to protest, "You will admit that he," he nodded into Legolas' direction who was rather busy trying to breathe at the moment, "is a security risk."

That caught even the unflappable Cendan by surprise.
"Commander?"

Teonvan smiled again, now addressing all the men.
"I have been thinking, Cendan," he said confidently, causing the younger man to struggle not to lift a mocking eyebrow. "And I have come to the conclusion that our beloved captain might have … misjudged the situation slightly."

"Are you questioning Captain Reran's decisions, sir?" the dark haired man asked icily, his hand unconsciously straying to the hilt of his knife.

"Oh, no!" Teonvan exclaimed as if greatly scandalised by the mere suggestion. He was apparently not willing to fall into such an obvious trap. "I would never do such a thing! Still, I believe he made a small mistake. See," he began confidentially, talking as much to the elven prisoner as to Reran's lieutenant, "I think that our guest's friend won't stay where he is, waiting for Reran to come looking for him. I don't think he has come so far to let himself be hunted down by our captain and our comrades. I think he's somewhere close by, waiting for an opportunity to kill us, or will be shortly."

Teonvan's smile broadened as he took another step closer to the elf whose eyes had narrowed to mere slits, contempt blazing brightly in their silver-blue depths.
"But you know what? I know the perfect way to make him come to us."

It took Cendan only a moment to understand what Teonvan was talking about.
"That is against our orders. Captain Reran…"

"Captain Reran is not in charge at the moment!" Teonvan exclaimed, for a moment breaking free of his anticipatory, pleasurable haze. "I am! And I decide what to do to protect the camp, as I was ordered! Step aside, Lieutenant! I am giving you a direct order!"

The younger man gritted his teeth, his eyes darting from the emotionless elf to the grinning men in front of him, and then to the only man he had ever hated with all his heart. Teonvan had planned this well, he thought darkly. The men might be loyal to their captain, but they would be neither stupid nor brave enough to defy a superior who held their lord's favour. There was nothing he could do, and even if there were, none of the men here would support him. It appeared, he decided grudgingly, that this slimy, twisted creature was more intelligent than he had given him credit for.

Cendan took a deep breath and took a step to the side.
"I am obeying only under protest."

"Your objections are duly noted," Teonvan nodded with an eerie smile. He nodded at his two lieutenants, his eyes flickering over Legolas' motionless form. "Get him up."

The fair haired elf forced himself not to let any sign of pain show on his face as the two men cut the ropes securing him to the tree and pulled him to his feet. His head seemed to experience the urge to burst into tiny little pieces, something that the elven prince could even understand. He had the sneaking suspicion that spontaneous combustion might be a lot less painful than what Teonvan's dark eyes promised him.

Teonvan waited impatiently for his lieutenants to prop the elf up who seemed to have a problem to gain his feet before he smiled again and rubbed his hands together in childlike glee.
"Wonderful. Let's get started, shall we?"

Before Legolas could think of something adequately sarcastic to say, he was pushed forward, past the smugly grinning figure of Teonvan and through the mass of the men who were stepping to the side to let him pass. For a moment, he thought about trying to break through the line of humans, of somehow escaping into the scarce cover of the trees surrounding the camp, but a second later a rough hand grasped one of his arms and that fleeting hope died. He might be able to escape his guards' grasp, but before he would have reached the first tree there would be an arrow in his back, or half a dozen. Perhaps even a few knives, he mused thoughtfully, Cendan appeared to be quite a skilled knife fighter…

After a few dozen steps his guards pulled him to a stop, nearly pulling his arms out of their sockets in the process. Legolas forced his thoughts back to the present, however reluctantly, and saw that they were standing in front of the main camp fire that was lit even despite the afternoon light that filtered through the trees around them. It appeared that right next to it there had been a tent which had been removed however, removed except for the main tent pole that still remained, looking like a lonely reminder of things past.

Legolas felt how his heart sped up, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach even intensified. One of his more laudable character traits was the ability to understand the implications of certain things, and the implications which this lone tent pole conveyed were anything but comforting. He had seen many such poles or ones that had been very similar to them, and he had yet to come across a situation where such a pole was not a bad sign, or in fact the herald of doom, pain, torment and other enjoyable things such as these.

The men crowded around the fire, expectant eyes fixed on the outwardly emotionless elf, and Legolas' guards once again began to move, shoving the elf roughly into the direction of the wooden pole. For the first few steps the elven prince was too distracted by the pain that had re-awoken in his old wounds at the brutal treatment, but then the full meaning of what was happening washed over him like an overwhelming wave. Eru, he swore inwardly, this could not be happening! Why were these kinds of things always happening to him? What had Aragorn and he done to the Valar or Ilúvatar to deserve them?

Legolas began to struggle against the men who pushed him forward, fully aware of the futility of his actions and yet unwilling to let these people do as they pleased without the slightest resistance. If they wanted to tie him to that pole, they would have to try a little harder than this!

In the end, it took four men to push him to the tent pole and hold him there until a fifth could tie his bound hands to the top of the pole, nearly forcing the elf to stand on his toes. When the man had finally managed to secure the elven prisoner's wrist to the wood, earning himself many murderous glances from him, he and the others stepped back, some of them holding various bruises and even bleeding wounds whose sight caused Legolas to feel a little bit better. Not much, of course, but enough to raise a mocking eyebrow when Teonvan stepped closer, the sparkle in his eyes burning even brighter now.

Teonvan simply stared at his captive, the promise to make him suffer plain to see in his eyes, and that was the moment when Legolas decided that he would try to make the man angry. If he was lucky, the other might lose his temper and hit him hard enough for him to lose consciousness. Then again, a sarcastic voice inside his head spoke up, it might simply serve to make him really mad.

"So, human," Legolas said contemptuously while he inconspicuously tested his bonds which did of course not yield an inch, "What now? What do you hope to achieve with this?"

"And I thought that to be obvious," Teonvan grinned, a grin that was beginning to scare Legolas. He had never known a human could grin so broadly; was this still normal? The man took another step closer to his prisoner, apparently barely able to stop his hands from twitching with impatience. "I believe all your friend needs is a little incentive to show himself. And, trust me, I am more than willing to provide him with one. You will pay for killing our companions, elf."

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man who was standing far too close for his liking, trying to ignore the dark, angry mumbling of approval the watching men emitted.
"We both know that is only a pretence, human. You are disobeying your orders for nothing, all of you. Do what you will; he will not come. He is not even here."

"There we disagree, Master Elf," the man shook his head in a friendly gesture. "Your friend is here, and I fully intend to do what I will. I fully intend to."

The elf didn't answer, in truth not really knowing what to say except calling Teonvan names, a possibility that, as appealing as it appeared at the moment, would most likely not improve his current situation. Then again, how could his situation be improved by anything? Whatever happened, he lost. If Teonvan was right and Aragorn was here somewhere, he would be captured as well since he would surely give himself up, and if the man was wrong and Aragorn was not here, his friend would possibly still be captured and Teonvan would still have his "fun" with him. Yes, Legolas mused detachedly, the Valar did hate him.

That particular assessment was once again confirmed when the men around the fire shifted yet a little closer, and Legolas reluctantly took his eyes off the roughly hewn wooden pole and looked at the spot Teonvan had occupied a moment ago, only to find it empty. He blinked slowly, wondering for a moment where the man had gone, but came to the conclusion that he really didn't want to know.

His wish went unheeded since Teonvan reappeared a moment later, looking more self-satisfied than he had ever seen him – and that meant quite a lot. The thing that shocked Legolas more than the human commander's facial expression was what was visible behind the man, sticking neatly and orderly in the hot ashes of the fire. There was little more to see than several dark, unadorned hilts that shimmered in the light of the flickering fire, even more noticeable against the whiteness of the snow around the fireplace.

Legolas would almost have closed his eyes. The sudden urge not to witness what was going on around here was almost overwhelming, but his pride and the unwillingness to let anyone and especially Teonvan see what he was feeling prevented such an obvious confession of fear. If this was going to happen – and it very much seemed as if it would, he was realistic enough to admit that – the very least he could do was make sure that this twisted excuse for a human being wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing how afraid he really was.

Teonvan was saying something, at least the elf thought so since the man's lips were moving, but he wasn't paying any attention to him What if Aragorn was somewhere close by, what if he was watching this right now? What if that reckless human did indeed what these people wanted, what if he gave himself up? That would be just like Strider, to walk into a potentially lethal situation with open eyes and that stupid grin on his face…

The prince was rudely ripped out of his thoughts when what felt like a metal club connected with the small of his back, slamming his body forward and causing his head to impact with the pole. The sudden pain in his back and head took his breath away, not even allowing the smallest moan to escape his lips, something for which he was rather thankful. He hadn't seen a metal club among the humans' weapons, he reasoned as he tried to force the pain to recede to more bearable levels. It must have been the bigger one of Teonvan's lieutenants, he finally decided, his mind still clouded by the pain that was beginning to fade to a dull ache now. That man had fists made of iron, that was something Legolas had found out some time ago…

A split second before Legolas could raise his head, a hand tangled in his unbraided hair and forced his head up and to the side, and a moment later the fair haired elf looked into the dark eyes of Teonvan who looked even more pleased now than he had before, if such a thing was even possible.

The human shook his head slightly and pursed his lips, looking at his elven prisoner with an expression that was similar to that of a disappointed parent.
"You weren't listening to me, Master Elf," Teonvan grinned evilly. "That wounds me."

"I am so sorry to hear that," Legolas retorted in a tone of voice that was positively dripping with sarcasm as he worked hard to keep his voice steady and pain-free. "Somehow I had thought you would have got used to it by now."

If Teonvan was angry about the other's reply, he did not show it but merely released the elf's head, apparently rather reluctant to loosen his hold on the pale golden tresses, something that caused the dread filling Legolas' heart to even increase. Before Legolas had enough time to further dwell on the perturbing implications of that reluctance, the man had stepped to the side, closer to the fire.

While Teonvan was bending down to grab one of the dark hilts he gave his smaller lieutenant a sign, and Legolas felt himself be grabbed and twisted around. The ropes binding his hands bit deeper into the skin of his wrists, and he had to struggle to keep the pain that the sudden movement caused off his face as the man grabbed one of his upper arms and roughly turned him around until he was facing the men, the wooden pole now at his back.

'That is something,' a small voice inside his head muttered sarcastically. 'At least this time they leave your back alone.'

Somehow, however, that thought failed to reassure him at all, and all sarcasm seemed to drain from him and to evaporate into nothing when Teonvan turned back to him, a red-hot knife clenched tightly in his fist. He forced himself to look at the man rather than at the dagger while the human commander stepped closer until they were mere inches apart, so close in fact that Legolas could feel the heat that emanated from the scalding blade.

"I love the colour," the man confided in the elf who was doing his best to remain emotionless. "The way it changes from red to gold to white – beautiful, isn't it? Almost as beautiful as … let's say, blood?"

"You are sick," Legolas said coldly. "You are not doing this because you have to, because you are following orders or because you wish to avenge your comrades, you are doing this because you want to. You enjoy such things, because this is the only way you can ever feel superior to others. More than anything else, you are pitiable."

"And you, elf, are boring. There's nothing more pathetic and tiresome than empty bravado," Teonvan grinned, outwardly not at all vexed. An impatient murmur could be heard from the onlooking men, and he quickly returned his attention to his prisoner. "I, however, have come up with a way of curing these things."

With a lazy flick of his wrist the man brought the knife up and sliced through the front of Legolas' shirt, leaving the cut fabric singed and smoking slightly. The tip of the hot blade left a long red cut in its wake, but worse than the sting of the knife was the heat that touched the skin, heat that seemed to burn right through skin and flesh into the elf's blood.

Legolas had to struggle hard for composure, and the choice whether to jerk away from the blade or not was taken from him when Teonvan's lieutenant tightened his hold on one of his upper arms, keeping him as firmly in place as if he had been nailed to the post. Elbereth, the cut hurt so much more than a normal one would have!

Teonvan was looking at the cut and the stony-faced elf with shining eyes, satisfaction radiating off him in powerful waves. There was only one term that seemed to fit: Perfection. That cut was perfect. Unable to contain himself any longer, he raised the knife again and, after a quick glance to ensure that it was still hot enough, plunged the weapon into the elf's shoulder – not too deep of course, one wouldn't want the fun to end too soon, would one?

Even though he was held fast, the fair haired being's body convulsed with the pain and he tried to jerk away, but to no avail: The guard's hands held him just as immobile as Teonvan's knife that was beginning to cut into the flesh of his shoulder, following the collarbone to finally meet with the first cut in the middle of the chest. Taking a small step to the side the man moved the red-hot blade over to the other shoulder and repeated the movement.

After what felt like an eternity to the blonde elf, the human commander slowly and reluctantly withdrew the dagger, noting with fascinated interest how little blood there was. That was the trouble with hot knives, he thought sadly. They were a great deal of fun, but due to the heat the wounds were cauterised quickly – a rather unpleasant side-effect. Well, Teonvan thought, you couldn't have everything, could you?

With some regret Teonvan tore his eyes away from the – perfect – cuts on the elf's chest and redirected his gaze to his captive's face. Finally the fair being's stoic façade was showing some cracks, he thought satisfied. The elf's eyes were still open, but several shades darker than usual and slightly glazed. His face was pale, and the muscles of his jaw were clenched tightly in an obvious attempt not to betray the pain he was in. All in all, it was much better than before.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked no-one in particular, earning himself a multitude of positive, jeering remarks from the rest of the men who had gleefully been watching the proceedings. "I may not be an artist like Lybran over here, but it's still not bad, is it?"

Teonvan's smaller lieutenant who had been so busy cutting patterns into the elf's cheek a day ago did even blush a little at his superior's words, something the commander didn't even notice since his full attention was fixed on his captive's face.

Legolas stared blankly at the man, battling the pain in his chest and the rest of his body. A few little cuts shouldn't hurt like this, and yet the pain was nearly unbearable. Still, the absolute joy on Teonvan's face was even harder to bear, and so he opened his mouth to answer, knowing full well that he would regret it very soon.

He turned tired, pain-glazed eyes onto the wounds on his chest and the thin trail of blood that trickled down from the deeper ones before returning his gaze to the brown haired man in front of him.
"You … slipped there at the end. The last one is slightly … crooked."

Had Legolas not already known that opening his mouth was a bad idea, the next events would have proven it to him beyond doubt. For a moment, it appeared as if the men crowding around them were holding their breath while Teonvan was once again going through his going-red-in-the-face-and-glaring-angrily-routine. A second later the man took a deep breath and forced his face into what was supposedly meant to be a smile, before drawing back a little and smashing his fist with practised ease into the exact wounds he had inflicted a moment earlier.

For a split second Legolas' felt nothing, an occurrence that, as astonishing as it was, was most welcome indeed. He felt another blow hit him and another, but his body still registered no pain, a condition that was too good to last, naturally. When he had just finished that thought, the pain hit him like a physical wave, washing over him and causing his knees to buckle. A small, barely articulated cry escaped his lips before he could stop it, and the world fell into a dark chasm of pain and shock. A normal knife wound shouldn't hurt like this, wouldn't hurt like this, but the burnt skin around the cuts multiplied the pain tenfold.

Another blow to his wounded shoulder sent the dark chasm into a sickening spin – something he hadn't even thought possible until now – and another cry wanted to escape him, something Legolas prevented just in time by biting down hard on his lip. His mind might be slightly fuzzy and overcome by pain at the moment, but he was still aware enough of his surroundings to try and stop himself from making any sound of distress. He would not give Teonvan any additional pleasure, Eru help him!

The elven prince tried to lift his head and open his eyes he hadn't even realised he had clamped shut at the sudden agony, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not. The roaring in his head grew louder and louder, and it took him quite some time to realise that the sound was in fact the men's cheering that seemed to drift in and out of focus.

Even when the fists stopped pounding him he did not manage to find the strength to lift his head to look at Teonvan, but that problem was quickly solved when the man once again grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head up. For a moment, Legolas' eyes refused to co-operate, but then Teonvan's face seemed to solidify, separating itself from the formless mass that the elf knew to be the camp.

For the longest time Teonvan simply stared into his captive's pain-glazed eyes, as if looking for something not even he really knew. Whether or not he was satisfied with what he saw, none of the men standing around the pole could tell, but in the end he released the elf's head, causing the fair haired being to let it sink forward again in pain.

The human commander very deliberately let go of the knife's hilt whose blade had cooled considerably, letting it drop onto the ground, before turning back to the roaring flames and taking up the next one of the daggers which were still sticking in the hot ashes of the fire. Teonvan looked at the reddish blade of the knife for a moment and turned his eyes onto the elf just in time to see the quickly hidden flicker of fear in the other's eyes. The old, self-satisfied smile once again spread over his face, and he took a step closer to the bound elf who did not move in his bonds, having either lost the will or the strength to struggle.

"So, Master Elf, where were we?"

An excited murmur ran through the onlooking humans, and as he watched Teonvan close the small distance between them, Legolas sent a fervent prayer to the Valar that Aragorn was truly not here, because he honestly did not know for how much longer he could remain silent.

Then Teonvan was standing next to him again, and all thoughts faded from his mind as if they had never existed.

++++++++++

Grey light filtered through the curtains, the shade reflecting the exact mood that dominated the large, spacious room.

How very fitting, the elf standing at the window thought darkly. The clouds that were covering the sky were just as dark as the mood that seemed to fill the palace – no, that wasn't exactly true. In comparison to the atmosphere that lay over Thranduil's halls, the day looked downright cheerful and bright.

He sighed and pushed a strand of dark hair behind a pointed ear, looking at the gardens beneath his feet. They had ridden out today with the king's scouts to follow a trail the Silvan elves had found yesterday evening, a trail that all of them knew would most probably not lead them anywhere.

Well, he thought wryly, it had led them somewhere, but only to a group of human travellers who had been surprised by the fierce weather, had taken refuge in the forest and had promptly got lost in the process. After they had made sure that the men were indeed what they said to be, he and his brother had convinced the young lieutenant leading the small troupe of elven warriors to send two elves with the humans to help them find their way back out of Mirkwood, something to which the younger elf had only consented most grudgingly. It had been obvious that he had only agreed to their proposal due to his unwillingness to offend his king's guests, and he was rather sure that the humans would never again set foot in King Thranduil's woods, not after spending a few hours in the company of two ill-tempered wood-elves.

If he was perfectly fair, he wouldn't have been better company at the moment, he admitted after a second. None of them would have, and who could blame them after all…

"Is there anything interesting to see, my friend? Or are you trying to burn a hole into the drapes with your eyes?"

Even despite the turmoil of emotions that raged inside his chest, he smiled thinly. The owner of this voice was the single most positive elf he had ever met, and that included Erestor when he was having his mischievous and adventurous time of the yén.

"No, Celylith, there is not. Apart from your wonderful Mirkwood weather, of course."

The silver haired elf shook his head slightly, carefully eyeing the younger twin son of Elrond. Somehow this calm, controlled behaviour was even harder to bear than the brother's behaviour yesterday. Celylith shuddered inwardly. Only one or two times had he seen the twins truly furious before, and it was a sight he did not look forward to seeing again.

"There is nothing wrong with the weather, my Lord Elrohir," he protested. "It is winter, what do you expect?"

The younger twin turned slowly, grey eyes still darker than was their wont. Since they had arrived here yesterday evening and the twins had, well, reacted rather … indignantly to the news that their human brother and Legolas had disappeared, both Elrohir and Elladan hadn't said much, and if they had, it had only been to request that they be allowed to go looking for Aragorn at once. And neither had Lord Glorfindel, Celylith added mentally, but for all he knew that could be the golden haired elf lord's usual behaviour – even though he doubted it somehow. Lord Glorfindel did not seem like a solemn and introvert type, somehow.

"The sun, what about that?" Elrohir asked, slowly walking back towards the armchair he had dragged in front of the fireplace and which he had vacated a little earlier. "That wouldn't be too much to ask for, would it?"

Celylith shrugged, deciding to ignore that comment, and rather chose to close the distance between Elrohir and himself, crouching down in front of the fireplace and leaning back against the warm stone next to the dancing flames.

Elrohir looked at him, sincerity and sympathy in his gaze.
"I am sorry about the warrior you lost – Galalith? I heard you knew him."

Celylith swallowed reflexively and lowered his eyes. He still couldn't believe that Galalith was dead and Anardir was wounded badly and might very well join him in Mandos' Halls. He had just seen the two of them a few days ago, and now…
"Aye," he answered softly. "Aye, I knew him. He was a good warrior – and a good person. He will be greatly missed by all of us."

The younger twin merely nodded and stared into the fire that was flickering in the hearth, unable to think of anything to say. Celylith kept staring at the finely woven rug he was sitting on, dark blue eyes vacant and sad.

"Why are you not with your brother?" he finally asked, unable to bear the silence any longer. He had found out that he didn't like silence at all; silence allowed dark thoughts and the never dying worry for the safety of his prince and Aragorn to surface. No, he thought darkly, talking was much better, no matter how pointless the topic.

"There is no need," Elrohir answered flatly. "Why are you not at the meeting?"

"I am but a captain of the guard, my friend," the other elf reminded his companion gently. "Lord Celythramir may be my father, but that doesn't give me the right to sit in council with the king and his advisors."

"And why would one want to anyway?" Elrohir exclaimed, his patience finally spent. "It will avail nothing!" Noticing Celylith's questioning stare, he added, a little bit more calmly, "Elladan is there, as is Glorfindel. They are my father's heir and his seneschal; there is no need for me to be there as well."

There was no bitterness in Elrohir's voice, only a deep weariness mixed with an underlying fury that had nothing to do with his brother or tutor.

"I don't really know what you mean, my lor…"

"Yes, you do, my friend," the dark haired elf said tiredly. "You are feeling just as I do, just as we do. You rode with Glorfindel today and were just as successful as we were, namely not at all! All we have achieved is having scared a group of lost humans! What good will it do to sit at a table and discuss things that will not be changed by words? What good will it do to sit there and see my own fears reflected in my brother's eyes? What good will it do to see the pain on Lord Thranduil's face?" Elrohir shook his head. "Nay, Celylith, I am far better off here. I wouldn't help anyone."

Celylith gave his friend a resigned smile.
"You are right, of course. Right now there's nothing I would rather do than go and pick a fight with something or someone rather big and ill-tempered. And then…"

"…beat it up," Elrohir nodded. "With a large, burly branch."

The other grinned, his troubles forgotten for a moment.
"That might make me feel a little bit better. Just a little bit of course, but…"

"Yes, I know," the twin nodded again. "Anything would be welcome. I am almost glad that we arrived only yesterday. I would surely have gone insane if I had ridden out day after day, for six days, only to return home empty-handed every time." Elrohir shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I ask once again: How do they do it?"

"I don't know," Celylith ground out, torn between worry and anger. "All I know is that I will kill them once I find them. I am not joking," he emphasised, blue eyes darkening even further, "I mean it. This is the last time that they disappear and leave me here to pick up the pieces and go out of my mind with worry. I won't tolerate it any longer."

"You would kill your prince?" Elrohir asked, apparently greatly shocked.

"Oh yes," Celylith nodded with a small, strained smile. "I just hope I will get the chance. You may have the human though."

"As is our right," a new voice to the right of them spoke up. "It is our duty to relieve ada of some of his burdens. Strangling people is always such a great strain on him."

The two young elves turned around, already knowing whom they would see. Leaning casually against a door post stood Elladan, grinning at both of them. For someone who didn't know him well he was looking just as always, but for those who did he did not appear normal in the slightest. The older twin's posture was a little too relaxed, his grin too careless and his eyes too merry. Behind that façade one could see the worry, anger and guilt that filled the dark haired elf's heart, and when the mask slipped for a mere second and Celylith saw the raw fury in Elladan's eyes, he decided that he wouldn't want to be in the shoes of Legolas' captors. Or in Aragorn's, for that matter.

There were many things one could call Celylith, but unobservant was not one of them. With a small nod at Elrohir he rose to his feet, knowing full well that the twins needed some time to themselves. They were still shocked by the fact that their little brother had disappeared just like that, and the last thing Celylith wanted was to intrude now. Besides, the twins had this habit of blaming themselves for things that had been beyond their control, and the very last thing Celylith wanted was to hear anyone talk about how they should have been here sooner. He had already more than enough guilt of his own, thank you very much.

He quickly walked over to the door and stopped for a second next to the dark haired elf, not really knowing what to say. He was unable to come up with anything that wouldn't sound stupid or even mentally retarded, and so he simply put a hand on the older twin's shoulder before disappearing out of the door.

For a moment, Elladan remained where he was and just looked at his younger brother, the grin fading quickly from his face. Finally Elrohir raised his head wearily and returned his twin's intense stare.

"So, how was the meeting?"

A dark, sarcastic smile spread over Elladan's face and he came closer with a snort of disgust, plopping down next to the fire where Celylith had sat only a moment ago.
"What do you think?"

"Well," the younger twin began carefully, "I…"

"Exactly!" Elladan exclaimed, throwing up his hands in angry exasperation. "How is talking going to solve anything? The king and his advisors know that perfectly well, too! They just hold these council meetings so they don't have to admit to themselves that they don't have any idea what to do! Estel and Legolas are out there, and what do they do? Pass resolutions!"

"It is better than to do nothing, brother," Elrohir reminded him. "Do you expect King Thranduil to sit down and admit that he lost his heir? Or our brother, for that matter?"

The other elf took a deep breath and nodded after a moment.
"Yes, you're right of course. It is simply so…"

"…infuriating? Frustrating? Maddening?" his brother offered. "Yes, I know."

"Celylith is right," Elladan said darkly. "I will kill Estel. I truly will. What was he thinking?"

"He wasn't thinking," Elrohir shook his head. "He is never thinking. You are rubbing off on him, it appears."

"This is what I look like when I'm not smiling, Elrohir," Elladan shot back annoyed, pointing at his own scowling face. "Estel should have waited for us! How far does he think he'll get? And even if he finds Legolas, what is he going to do then? Fight a group of at least twenty humans? Or try and reason with them until they're so annoyed that they agree to let Legolas go just to get rid of him??"

His younger brother closed his eyes shortly and shook his head.
"You read his letter, you know why he did it."

"What, this one?" Elladan questioned angrily, brandishing the letter Lord Celythramir had given them yesterday evening. He unfolded the parchment for the umpteenth time, his long fingers trembling slightly with rage and fear.

'"I cannot stay here, and I cannot wait for you either, my brothers. I am sorry, and I hope you'll understand and forgive me with time. All I do know is that I have to leave, now, or Legolas will die.

Please tell our father that I did what I had to, and that I did not mean to dishonour him or our house with my actions. I return home once I have found Legolas, I promise, but I cannot abandon him like this. I do what I must, as would you were you in my place."'

Elladan looked up again, a mixture of fear and indignation on his face.
"If he wants to disobey orders and sneak out of the palace, he should wait for us! He is doing what he has to, indeed! Worrying us all the way to Valinor and back, is that what he must do?"

"Do be fair, Elladan," Elrohir shook his head again. "He also said that he loved us and was sorry for worrying us. Several times, and you know it is the truth."

"Aye," Elladan relented reluctantly. "And we love him, of course, no matter what folly he is planning this time, but…"

"…he will get himself into one of his 'situations' again. You're right. We should…"

"…make sure someone's there to get him out of it again. Indeed," Elladan finished his twin's thought. A calculating expression stole over his eyes, and he added, "Would tonight be convenient for you?"

Elrohir grinned, the first genuine grin since they had arrived here yesterday and had found out that their friend and little brother had disappeared without a trace.
"Yes, I do believe I am free tonight."

"Very well," his brother inclined his head and rose to his feet. "I will see you then. I'll go and … prepare. We'll use the usual way?"

"Yes, I think that would be prudent," Elrohir nodded and got to his feet as well, walking over to his bags that were still waiting to be unpacked, sitting forgotten in a corner. "I will see you tonight after dinner. Around midnight, I think, when most people have already retired."

The two of them exchanged a last glance and Elladan left his brother's room, leaving Elrohir to stare blindly at his quiver and bow that leaned against the packs. With an effort, he tore his eyes away from the weapon his grandparents had given him and his brother many years ago – a weapon Legolas had often studied with envious eyes, much to their amusement.

Celylith was right, he decided. Anything was better than sitting here and worrying, even it was a folly that would cause their father to strangle them once they got back home.

Elrohir shook his head and grabbed the bag containing his spare clothes. As long as they returned with Estel, he would't care in the slightest.

++++++++++

Aragorn was slowly moving through the undergrowth, wondering how and at what point everything had gone so terribly wrong. After giving the matter considerable thought, the young ranger decided that that would have been the moment he had started to climb down the tree in front of his room in Mirkwood.

On the other hand, he reasoned, it might also have been the point when he had allowed a wimpy, flea-bitten wolf to nearly rip off his right arm. After it and its pack had begun to nibble at his horse's legs, of course – that was something that had truly made him furious.

He looked behind himself to make sure that his horse had remained where he had left it, namely in the small clearing a few yards behind him. He hadn't truly expected it to, since Ráca was turning out to be just as headstrong as Legolas' Rashwe – thankfully also a lot less evil and dangerous, even though at least as annoying. All Rashwe did after all was glare at you in a manner that left little doubt about the fact that he hated you; Ráca however looked at you disapprovingly and disappointedly, in a manner that was beginning to remind him disconcertingly of his elven father.

Aragorn shook his head and, after having ascertained that the horse had indeed stayed where he had bid it, closed the distance between himself and the large tree in front of him, the tree had chosen as a lookout point. A moment later he had reached the tree, and was now faced with the question of how he should climb it. The young man gave his bandaged forearm a nasty look, trying to ignore the pain that was beginning to envelop his arm now that his attention was focused on it. Well, this was going to be interesting.

Deciding that he would freeze in this position if he didn't start moving soon, he reached out with his left hand and grabbed the nearest branch. For a few seconds, everything went rather well, but after ascending five feet, Aragorn grabbed the tree trunk in an attempt to stop himself from falling down again. His arm felt as if a hundred tiny, starved wolves were busy tearing it into even tinier pieces, and for a moment he felt very tempted to check the wound for them. One could never know…

With an effort, he forced himself to concentrate and continue. He needed a place from which he could watch the humans' camp, and, if possible, before the four scouts he had so narrowly avoided earlier returned. Aragorn frowned as he tried to ignore his injured arm and climbed higher.

This day had been highly interesting until now, even though he had very nearly died/got caught/got himself eaten several times. He had been right this morning when he had had the feeling that he was not safe on the road. Only minutes after he had guided his horse off the road and into the undergrowth three men had appeared, men who had followed him after discovering the dead wolves. That had, of course, been the point when Aragorn had realised that he had left his dagger behind, a fact that would have nearly caused him to draw his other knife and cut his own throat to spare the men the trouble of having to do it themselves.

Even now, Aragorn gritted his teeth when he thought of his own stupidity. How could he have been so thoughtless?! What had he been thinking? You never – ever – left your weapons behind in unknown territory, not even when they were broken or otherwise useless; that was something his brothers and Glorfindel had taught him a long time ago. And you certainly did not leave your dagger behind, your elvish dagger, so that humans who had captured an elf and were possibly just waiting for an elf to appear on the scene could find it!

The ranger gripped a branch with his right hand, almost welcoming the pain as punishment for his idiocy. What had happened could not be changed now, and the three humans hadn't been too skilled at what they had been doing – at least not skilled enough to find a ranger and an elven horse when they didn't want to be found. They hadn't even come close to their position, and on any other day Aragorn would have felt compelled to laugh about them, even if only inwardly, but not today. Today he had been too busy staunching the blood flowing in small rivulets down his arm to have sufficient time to laugh about the men's incompetence, and when he had just managed to decently bandage the wound the humans had given up and left.

For a moment, he had been tempted to follow them right away, but had decided against it, knowing full well that he had to look after his horse's and his own wounds first. Wolves might be no wargs, but their claws were still dirty and he didn't even want to think about what the one who had been trying to rip off his arm had eaten last. If he didn't clean them properly, the wounds would fester and make everything much harder; something he had quickly but reluctantly admitted to himself.

It might even have been a good thing that he hadn't followed the men, because when he had just finished cleaning the scratches and bite wounds – and had nearly got his head bitten off by his horse in the process – and he had just got back to his feet to follow the men, his horse had started to become agitated again. Aragorn might be many things, but he was not willing to make the same mistake twice.

He had just managed to hide his horse when the three men had reappeared, this time accompanied by a forth who had unfortunately a lot more experience in tracking people. Aragorn had only had to take one look at the middle-sized man to know that he would be in trouble if he didn't disappear, now. For a moment he had contemplated hiding his horse in a small, nearly undetectable cave a few hundred yards away and concealing himself high up in one of the pine trees that would offer him sufficient cover, but had decided against it when he had realised that these were most probably scouts that had been sent by the main group. The other humans would most likely not leave until the four of them had returned, and in that case it was important that they returned as late as possible. The last thing he wanted was to let these people get away again now that they were so close.

Even though he was sure that his arm was not broken he knew that he was in no condition to fight four uninjured men, and so he had led them on a merry little chase that took them into the direct opposite direction of the camp. To his substantial satisfaction he could say that the humans had never been close to actually catching up with him, and for a minute or two he had even been able to enjoy this little "game" of hide and seek, until it had come back to him with whom he was actually playing it. In the end he had managed to lay a few false tracks, had watched the men follow them and disappear into the distance and had doubled back.

He had followed the path he had left when the men had first arrived, and now here he was, hoping that his horse did as he had bid it and trying to climb the most uncooperative tree he had seen since he had been about twelve years old. Aragorn shook his head and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand. If his body had it its way and he fell out of this tree, no-one would help Legolas; besides, if the fall didn't kill him, the humiliation of falling off a tree twice in less than a year certainly would. His brothers would find out, somehow, and that would be it.

A few minutes later he decided that, considering the way his arm felt at the moment, namely as if it would fall off any second now, this was as good a place to stop as any, and wrapped his good arm around the trunk. Now that he was a few dozen feet above the ground, he could just barely see the camp through the snow that had started falling again, if he strained his eyes. He couldn't hear much except shreds of jeering laughter and applause, but that could still change if the wind turned just a little more. The men had stopped for the night in a rather large clearing, and from what he could see there were only two or three guards.

There was a large group standing at the far end of the glade, and Aragorn leaned forward a little to be able to see more. Why were the men behaving like this, why weren't there more guards? Even the guards that were standing at the edges of the clearing appeared somewhat absent-minded and distracted and kept looking back to the main fire, that wasn't a behaviour he would expect from people such as them. What was going on here? What...

His inward questions trailed off abruptly as he leaned forwards even more and a man standing at the edge of the group shifted slightly to the side at the same time, enabling him to get a clear view on the fireplace. The young man felt how his heart and mind froze, leaving him trembling and cold as ice. After some moments, he felt a sharp pain in his left hand, and realised that he had grabbed the rough bark of the tree so hard that the stub of a broken branch had dug into his palm, drawing blood. Aragorn loosened his hold on the tree slightly, but did not avert his eyes or paid the small wound any attention.

The young ranger stared at the sight several hundred yards in front of him, unable to tear his eyes away from it, no matter how much he wished to do just that. Next to the large, flickering fire was a tall, rather thin pole, surrounded by about fifteen men. And bound to that pole was – of course – Legolas. Aragorn very consciously took a deep breath, idly wondering how it was possible that his blood was boiling with rage when the rest of him was as cold as the snow that covered everything in sight.

Legolas was still standing upright – something that was probably owed to the fact that he was tied to the wooden post. What had probably once been his shirt hung in tattered shreds from his body, and countless bruises, shallow cuts and large, red, cut-like marks could be seen on his torso and face. From what the man could see, his friend's eyes were closed, and try as he might, he couldn't determine if the elf was still conscious – or alive, for that matter. He had never thought it possible, but this was just like the dreams he'd had – and yet a thousand times worse.

Hot rage coursing through his body, Aragorn tried to strain his eyes even more, but before he could find out anything else, a brown haired man who had been kneeling in front of the fire straightened up again and took a step closer to the bound elf. His back was to the tree Aragorn was clinging to at the moment, and so the man couldn't see what he was holding in his hands or what he was doing, but a moment later his question as to whether his elven friend was still alive was answered, though not in the way he had wished.

Just a few seconds after the man had stepped in front of his captive a low, but still more than audible scream cut through the freezing air, closely followed by cheers and jeering laughter of the onlooking men. Aragorn might have been angry before, but that scream, uttered by a voice he knew as well as his own, caused him to nearly fall off the fir tree he was sitting in. For a moment, the man's vision was clouded with a blood red colour. How dare they, how dare these humans hurt his friend like this! He knew how notoriously hard it was to make Legolas admit that he was in pain let alone cause him to express it; what had they done to him to make him cry out like this?

Before he even knew what he was doing, he was climbing down the tree, and never before had he descended from such heights in such short time when he had not been falling down, that was. When his feet touched the ground he began moving closer to the part of the clearing where the men and his friend were, still having retained enough presence of mind to move from cover to cover instead of rushing over to them as he so desperately wanted. He was alone, and even though the men were distracted and not paying attention to their surroundings there was no way he could take on all of them. He would be dead before he had reached Legolas' side, or would be forced to surrender when one of them held a knife to his friend's throat.

While he was slowly moving closer to the men, a part of the anger, fury and contempt that filled his heart faded a little and made way to confusion and puzzlement. These people had gone to great lengths to capture Legolas and had kept him alive until now, why would they start torturing him now? There always was the possibility that the victim died, so why risk losing what they had worked so hard for? It did not make sense!

It seemed, however, that today was a day when his questions were answered almost immediately, as the young ranger found out only moments later when he had just taken cover behind a large, leafless tree, only a few dozen feet away from the fire. The guards were far too busy watching the proceedings in the camp to be on the lookout for intruders, Aragorn thought darkly. Now that he was close to the fire, he could see the men and his friend much clearer, and he felt how the anger in his heart grew even more.

Even though he knew that the blonde elf was still alive, he wouldn't have believed it at first glace. Up close Legolas looked even worse than he had before; his skin pale and beaded with sweat and the numerous red cuts appearing in even starker contrast than before. There was a rather small, black spot on the side of the elf's chest that Aragorn couldn't identify though; a very roughly cylindrical shape that rose and fell with every gasping, heaving breath the bound elf took. The man narrowed his eyes. What in the name of the One was tha…

The thought died in his mind when the brown haired man stepped forward again and reached for the black object, and when he grasped it and pulled it out slowly with a sickening smile, Aragorn realised that it was a black, roughly cylindrical knife hilt. Legolas did not raise his head which was hanging forward in pain and exhaustion and merely moaned softly as the man slowly removed the knife from his flesh, and that was the moment the ranger noticed the small wisps of smoke that surrounded the blood-covered blade.

The man held up the knife for all the men to see and said something that caused them to burst out laughing, but Aragorn did not hear a single sound over the thundering beats of his own heart. He blinked slowly and he had to take several deep breaths before he had composed himself sufficiently to even formulate a coherent thought. Great Manwë, that knife was hot and this man had…

His furious train of thought that was very nearly causing him lose what was left of his self-restraint and composure was interrupted when the unnamed human turned back to his elven prisoner, his shallow, sunken face practically aglow with pleasure.

"Well, well, well," he said friendly, "It appears that we have finally found your limits. It took long enough, after all." Apparently displeased by the fact that the elf didn't seem to acknowledge his words, he grasped his chin roughly and forced his head up, looking into glazed, pain-filled eyes with a large grin on his face. "And there exactly, Master Elf, lies the problem. We have been at this for hours, and yet your elusive friend has not shown himself. I might have miscalculated after all. Perhaps he isn't even interested in what happens to you."

If Legolas had heard the man's words, he didn't show it but simply stared at the brown haired human's face, a blank, disinterested, distracted look on his face as he desperately tried to get the pain under control that pulsed through him. Even the slight wind touching his body hurt, not to mention the bonds that secured him to the post and Teonvan's hand that was grasping his chin.

The human commander released the elf's head and took a step back, a mixture of sated contentment and anxiety warring in his chest. The past two hours had been much more satisfactory than he could have imagined, but there was the small problem that the other elf had still not appeared. If Reran got back and he hadn't captured the other elf, he would be dead, he did not harbour any illusions about that.

Trying to ignore Cendan's more than a little smug expression, he turned around, looking at the trees that surrounded their little camp on three sides.
"Listen up!" he called. "I am losing my patience! You can stop all this! If you come out now you will spare your friend a lot of unnecessary pain!" He looked at the quiet woods for a few seconds, and added impatiently, "I am, however, more than willing to continue! How much more do you think he's able to take? I would love to find out, but I have the feeling that you and he would not!"

Behind his tree, Aragorn opened his eyes he had closed for a few moments. All this had happened just because of him? Just because they wanted him to show himself?
Nothing here gone according to plan, absolutely nothing. This hadn't been supposed to be more than a scouting mission; his plan had been to check things out, follow the men if they decided to travel on today and come back to free Legolas in the night. That was what he should do, a small, reasonable voice told him. He should disappear now and come back to free his friend later. These men would not kill their prisoner, and if they captured him too, their chances of escape would drop dramatically.

Yes, he thought darkly, listening only with one ear to what the man was saying now. That was what he should do. But he knew that he couldn't, he knew that he couldn't leave his friend behind like this if all they wanted was that he showed himself. Besides, he never did what he should do, so why ruin an otherwise perfect record?

Still, he thought as he soundlessly drew his smallest knife, he might be reckless as his brothers had claimed countless times, but he wasn't stupid. He quickly but carefully carved a small Elvish rune into the bark of the tree, a long bar that was met by two smaller, tilted bars. It was not beautiful and done in haste, but every elf coming this way would know what this was, namely the rune standing for the tengwa whose Quenya name was Rómen, meaning East. Rhûn meant nothing else; it was the Sindarin equivalent of that word. Aragorn shrugged lightly and put the dagger back into its sheath. It wasn't as good as a drawn map with a red arrow pointing into the direction of Rhûn, but it would have to do.

He took another deep breath to compose himself, sent a quick prayer to Elbereth to watch over Legolas and him, and stepped around the tree and out into the open.

++++++++++

TBC...

++++++++++

yén - elvish unit of time, equivalent to 144 years
ada - father (daddy)

++++++++++

*shakes head sadly* He'll never learn, will he? Then again, I'm not complaining. Our world would be a very boring place if our favourite ranger or elf did indeed manage to learn from their mistakes... *evil grin* Then again, he didn't have much choice. *shrugs* Whatever. Alright, I have an evil college paper due on Saturday afternoon, so I hope I'll be able to post on Sunday. No promises, but I'll try. A review, or rather more than one review, would cheer me up and might prompt me to post on time. *g* So: Review? Please?

---

Additional A/N:

TrinityTheSheDevil - *g* Who isn't? We're all sweet and perfectly normal... LOL, Aragorn is heading into 'undeniable and unescapable doom'? Well, essentially ... yes. You could say that; it's even a rather accurate description now that I think about it... *evil grin* And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the Glorfindel pain I promised you. In fact, I also promised Sabercrazy and Cathy, so I'd better keep my word. The three of you are dangerous. Very, very dangerous. And rabid too.
Deana - That's what a lot of people said, believe me. But I am sure you - and the rest of the readers - managed to wait patiently for this chapter! *g* Thanks for the review, and here's chapter 15! Wohooo!
Aratfeniel - I know, I know. FF.net was going through phase again - others would call it normalcy, but I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. *g* Well, no, I am nort acrually, but... Oh, and yes, I think you had to enable cookies in your browser. I assume you did that because you have logged in for this and ... I'm blabbering again, huh? Okay, I'll shut up now... *g* You have a 'I-love-Aragorn-and-Legolas-torture-dance'? That's scary...
Gwyn - Well, yes, the twins are indeed adorable. I don't really think Celylith is, but he's my OC, so that's like ... like with siblings, I guess. I would never be able to see something adorable my sister or brother, I think. *g* And yes, they'll be in this chapter, don't worry. Go and read. *pushes her into direction of chapter*
XsilicaX - *evil grin* Yup, we had snow. It's gone now, but we had lots and lots of it. And I am in a city! I put some in the freezer though, just for you! So, the next time I visit England, I'll bring it with me and send it to you! Deal?! *g* LOL, I DID notice the sarcasm. Don't worry. And you're probably righht. Thranduil wouldn't kill Aragorn, that would be downright disrespectful. He's a polite man, uhm, elf, he'd let Elrond kill him. *g* Oh, and wolves can look smug, just like sharks look evil. My cat can also look smug, very much so. *shudders* She's insane, too. ROTFL, I am a what? A cliffy-loving torture freak? Why, thank you! *huggles Cathy* Thanks for the compliment! And I couldn't write a paragraph in French either. Hmm, I could do Greek though... *wanders off to have a look at her Ilias* It's a beautiful language. Slightly useless, but beautiful nonetheless. November 7th, huh? Okay, that shoudl be doable! And I don't think I will kill Celythramir. Believe it or not, _I_ like him, and it wouldn't help the plot in the slightest to kill him, at least not now. Perhaps later. *evil grin*
Zam - Uhm, well, I hope you got electricity back? To be honest, I've never been without it for longer than two hours or something, but I'm sure it's horrible. *pats her back* Poor you. At least you had no school... LOL, so it was Lina who was stalking Aragorn? I should have known - are her eyes really that yellowish? I like horses too, but I would never say I love them. Most horses are simply stupid, and quite a lot of them are stupid, too. And yes, of course Aragorn is that stupid, but he didn't breatk his arm. I don't think why everyone though it's broken, but it's not. Only slightly ... maimed. *evil grin* About the orcs: Tolkien stated somewhere (if you really want to know where I'd have to look it up) that orcs and goblins aren't the same thing. It's that the goblins are wilder and 'uncivilised', they don't serve Sauron but are simply evil and living in the mountains while the orcs are eviller and in the service of the Dark Lord. *grimaces* Oh, I'd better look it up. And your guess isn't THAT bad. Not quite right yet, but not bad. *g*
Shannonday - Uhm, okay, THAT is interesting. Let's just assume you love the stories, not me, shall we? *g* In that case, thank you very much. I'm glad you like it!
Forever Unstoppable - Yes, Reran WILL have a hard time finding our dear ranger. *pats Reran's back* Poor Reran. His is not an easy life, no... You are obsessed with this story? Really? Well, that is rather flattering - disconcerting and worrying, but flattering.... *g* Sorry about updating not-so-soon, but life's really horrible and busy at the moment. *sobs*
Calenore - LOL, yes, that's it. They're gleeful because they've decided being nice to him for the rest of the trip. That'd show him.... *g* Well, I think for them it's not really important who Legolas really is. Their lord might think differently, but I think to them it's irrelevant whether he is an elven warrior, the King of Mirkwood or Lady Galadriel. Elf is elf - for them, that is. I don't think Thranduil will show up though. Apart from the fact that he has not the slightest clue where the men went, I don't think that he would leave Mirkwood at such a time, when the heir to the throne has already disappeared. *smiles sheepishly* Sorry.
Firnsarnien - *sighs* It wasn't a cliffy. This one might be, of course. I simply don't know anymore. And I absolutely agree: You are the worst obsessed insane evil hopeless person around here. *g* No, that didn't sound good at all, it did in fact sound bad obsessed insane evil and hopeless. *g* And no, the big elven warrior wasn't one of the twins. I think it was a random Imladris elf, like Isál or Elvynd from AEFAE. I still have to give them characters for the next story. *sighs again*
Karone Evertree - Yeah, I guess you have to find something positive about every situation. At least Legolas won't be alone. *evil grin* No, indeed not. *even eviller grin* Oh, I love being evil and cryptic. *very evil grin*
Iverson - Hmm, I've always tried to hide from all things that looked even remotely like Math and wait till they went away. Almost never worked, but it was always worth the try. *g* And you're not the only one who needs to giggle every time you read Lasseg. Most people think it quite funny, and every time I have to write that particular I am snickering evilly. I don't think Legolas was thinking at all when he chose that name, as always. That's their problem, you know, they don't THINK, these idiots. It's a miracle they're still alive. *shakes head* Males. I don't know yet when the "rescue party" (*snickers*) will arrive, not for a while yet, sorry. Carefully I'd say chapter 22-24, something like that, close to the end. I hope. It's also good to hear that you like Reran; he's supposed to be an honourable villain, if something like that exists. Oh, and I wrote this chapter here about 1 1/2-2 weeks ago. I'm always at least 2 chapters ahead. It's a good policy, trust me. *g* I liked Ken Watanabe (I think that's his name) very much, he played Katsumoto, the rebel leader. He _was_ great, too. *g* Yes, Nili does have an email adress ... uhm, no, she doesn't. None at all. Honest. *g*
Leggylover03 - Huh? Their 'life altering reunion'? *reads next few chapters, including every scene that could remotely be termed reunion* Uhm, sorry, but there's nothing life altering about it. Sorry to disappoint you. *confused look*
Alilacia - LOL, snakes, that's it! Winter snakes, vicious little demons that love snow - which would be rather unique for reptiles... *g* It might be that big one from Harry Potter... Ack! No! Stay away! *beats plot bunny with a stick* No! Help! Please! *is attacked by vicious plot bunny* See what you've done - again!! But don't worry, he won't meet Pallando or Alatar (I think that's his name), I am not yet confident enough to write an Istar. And Aragorn's arm wasn't broken, mainly because it would have destroyed the plot. It's just slightly ... maimed. *g* Don't let those night shifts get you down, always remember: Who needs sleep anyway? *g*
Alex Mistress Squirrel - Really? Good! I had feared wolves were too obvious... I guess my mind is comign up with weird things. Hmm, you want more angst? Well, there is quite a lot coming up in the next few chapters, so I hope it's enough for you. Then again, it's never enough, is it? *g*
Firniswin - Uhm, yeah, most of those nice capitalised sentenced were correct, except the last one. No real Aragorn torture for a while, sorry. He got most of the "attention" in THOM, so it wouldn't be fair. *g* And don't worry, my sanity is long gone too. I don't think it even made it to kindergarten. *g* Nope, it didn't.
Carla - LOL, ja, die 'Lage spitzt sich zu'. Kann man wohl sagen. *g* Mich wundert es gar nicht, dass du elf torture oder allgemeine torture nicht magst. Ich mag sie - glaub es oder nicht - auch nicht besonders. Ich brauche fuer eine winzige torture Szene immer Ewigkeiten, und kann meist selbst nicht lesen, was ich da gerade geschrieben habe. Ich liebe allerding H/C, und dafuer braucht man leider torture oder Verletzungen oder so, also ist es bei eher ein Mittel zum Zweck. Na ja, mit 16 studiert man halt auch in den seltensten Faellen. *g* 'Tschuldigung fuer das Missverstaendnis. Dann hast du jetzt Ferien? Mein Neid ist dir gewiss... *g*
Shadow Warrior - Ah, don't worry, as long as you tell me once in a while whether you like it or not I shall be happy. *g* Another Aragorn girl, huh? Join the club! *hands her a shiny badge and shakes her hand* Welcome to "Aragorn obsessed fans anonymous" or something like that, that doens't really sound good, does it... *walks off mumbling under her breath* The twins will be in this chapter and in the next, don't worry. I love the twins, they're simply so adorable... *huggles them*
Sirithiliel - Uhm, yes, Aragorn will come. Oh, that would be a No and another No ... sorry, not quite like that. *g* It's close enough though! *blinks* Well, it's great I inspired you! Go, write your story and be merry! *shoves her into the direction of her computer/laptop/whatever* Have fun!
Cicci - I think you're right! 'In comparison to other things that could happen, have happened and surely will happen', as you so eloquently put it, Aragorn is perfectly alright! For how long is another question though... *evil grin* I guess you could call Teonvan creepy, even though I would, personally, rather call him sick and stupid. But creepy is just as acurate I guess... *g* Thanks for all your great reviews, btw! I've probably said it before, but I thought I should say it again. Never hurts. *g*
Sadie Elfgirl - Wow, that must have taken some time, to read all my weird stories, I mean. All in all they're probably about 790 pages long, not counting this one. *pats your back* Congrats! Thank you very much for your compliments and for taking the time to review. I love reviews, as you probably already know. *g*
Halfling - Model UN? What exactly is that? Is that one of these college game-thingies, where you pretned to be the UN and all that - I think they've done something like that at my university as well... *shrugs* I can't really remember though. *g* Hmm, why couldn't Aragorn just wait? A. It would have been too easy, b. It would have been the intelligent thing to do, and c. It's more fun this way. For us, that is. *evil grin* And don't worry, I managed to avoid all fallen trees on my way down the hill. Most of the time, that is... *g*
CrazyLOTRfan - Well, right now it'd be 'Guten Abend' here. *g* Don't worry, you got that right, but why in the name of Ilúvatar and all the Valar did you take _German_? It's ugly, it's hard to learn (or so they say, I wouldn't know) and it's ... useless? Go and take Spanish instead. It's more beautiful, you can speak it in the largest part of South and Middle America, not to mention in Spain of course, and it's rather easy to learn. *shakes head* Really... Still, if you have any questions, feel free to send me an email. I'd be happy to help. *g* Be that as it may, you're right of course. Thranduil IS to be pitied, and you'll see a part of their reaction in this chapter, don't worry. They're not all too happy... *winces* No, not at all... Believe it or not, I have to interrupt my little 'reply-to-the-reviews-session' as well for the wonderful task of walking the dog. Luckily the snow's melted and it's rather warm here, otherwise I'd freeze to the door again... Bloody winter.
TrustingFriendship - It would have been rather humiliating to be eaten by a scrawny wolf, _especially_ when you ARE Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Rangers and Isildur's heir, wouldn't it? Oh, it definitely would have... *shakes head* Poor Aragorn. Uhm, the stupid ranger living up to Legolas' claims ... uhm, technically speaking, Legolas was talking about an ELF, right? *shrugs* As I said, Aragorn does something incredibly stupid. I'll remember your preference for villain torture; I'll see what I can do!
Crystal-Rose15 - Trust me, it IS lots of fun! Far more fun than during the day! And you're right, I would most certainly not have gone sledding if there had been even the slightest chance that I might end up in Hithrawyn's healing wing. No, everything is better than that... *shudders* If you are really adapting those people's characters traits, I would RUN and get an appointment. With a psychiatrist, or a brain surgeon, or both. *g* Your twins are in here, don't worry. Go and read. *g*
Estelreader - *blushes* Well, thank you! It's of course very nice to hear that you like my other stories as well as Celylith, something I can't really understand, btw. He's like a younger brother to me, always pestering me and annoying like hell... Celylith: *growls* Uhm, j/k, I LOVE you, of course! *huggles angry elf* See what I mean? LOL, you missed Estel terribly in chapter 12? Well, don't worry, he's in this one. Thanks a lot for reviewing; I love reviews!
Rabbit of Iron - No, no, no, _don't_ be sorry! You don't have to be sorry, really. I am sure it is a harmless, fluffy, happy family movie, it's just that people in the sixties and seventies were still a little bit sensitive about such issues. Well, they still are, of course, that's something that will never change, but hey, I mean, "Saving Private Ryan", "Schindler's List", "La Vita è Bella" and things like that all have a large fan base here. They are great movies, and things change, it just takes some time. And you've never hear of Hellzapoppin? What? Go and rent it! No, better yet, go and BUY it! It's hilarious, trust me! *shakes head* Doesn't know Hellzapoppin, preciousss.... Hmm, about Wilwarin - not really? She's not exactly a main character, and I don't think I will put her into this story. It would complicate things. *g*
Grumpy - Then go sledding! It's so much fun, trust me! Then again, it's not funny anymore when you have too much snow, that's true. I agree with Ráca as well, Aragorn IS insane but funny. Well, I hope you didn't get even more snow! Ours has already melted... *sad look*
Elenora1 - Hmm, do you want an honest answer? No! I don't get tired of hearing that; besides, you usually write better reviews than simply 'it was great update soon please'. I always love getting reviews from you. *g* You're right, btw, it's a miracle Arwen even wanted him! I mean, he must be covered with the most horrendous scars from head to toe! *evil grin* Yes, what does the evil lord want from Legolas - we'll find out. Eventually, that is. In a few chapters. Quite a few chapters. You do what? You _print_ the chapters? Really? Wow, your printer is WAY more resilient than mine!
Starlight - Na ja, wenigstens bist du ehrlich. Das ist doch schon mal was. *g* Zuzugeben, dass man einer der Blutruenstigen ist, ist der erste Schritt zur Besserung. Hmm, meistens gibt es gar keine Besserung, aber na ja. *g* So, du wuerdest unsere Lieblingselbenzwillinge also einfangen und ... knuddeln, aha. Na, wenn das so ist... *zwinkert* Ich hoffe, dass deine Franzoesischklausur nicht so schlimm war; meistens denkt man ja, es ist schlimmer, als es ist. War doch sicher ganz okay. *g*
Ellyrianna - It's not MY fault that Aragorn does all these STUPID things! Well, yes, maybe it is, but ... uhm, it's my alter ego? She is the one who likes to pour angst over several innocent characters... *smiles innocently* Really. *catches bundled up ranger* Uhm, thanks! On to the next chapter then! *evil grin*
Elvendancer - I know the book you're talking about, well, I don't KNOW it, but I know of it. It's rather interesting, but I think lots of the myths and legends are rather obvious to recognise - if you know the Norse mythology, that is. It's rather interesting, just take the names of most of the dwarves in The Hobbit and LOTR, they're straight out of the Edda. It's rather interesting, really. *g* You do have a happy lost though? And you put Teonvan on it? Wow, that list I've got to see...
Critternut - LOL, yes, it was close to his leg. But as I said earlier (in fact, about two dozen times), it would ruin everything if they weren't able to walk. It would make everything much, much more complicated than it already is, and we don't want that, do we? Don't answer that, it's a rhetorical question. *g* Ouch! How did you break your arm? Oh, you said it, soccer, wasn't it? I know why I don't like that game... *shudders* Dangerous. LOL again, Reran does indeed hate Teonvan. Quite a lot of people do, actually. And yes, thrice is a word, it means three times. Rhymes with twice, though. *g* And I used Quenya instead of Sindarin because, well, the Sindarin word for wolf is 'draug'. So Wolf-queen would mean something like, let me think, Draugrîn or Draugrîs or something like that. And that looks stupid, right? *nods* Right.
Jazmin3 Firewing - *whacks Aragorn upside the head* Here you go. Do you feel better now? *huffs* Of course I recognise the spoon! I don't think that Legolas or Celylith meant to supply an enemy with their newest torture methods - too bad for them, huh? *evil grin* Legolas blushed a lot, nearly as much as Seobryn, and he did of course not try to chase me around. He knows I am the omnipotent master of his universe; it would be pretty suicidal. *g* *watches enraged elf and ranger come closer* Massachusetts, here I come! Squeeee! *dives into basement*
Amelie - Hmm, your computer does indeed sound rather evil. Have you tried threatening it with dismemberment? That tends to work rather nicely... *evil grin at her own computer* I like your idea of what happens to Aragorn. It's rather original, but unfortunately far too easy. I doubt that Reran would have been so naïve not to notice that Aragorn is the mysterious elf (how are the chances of running into someone by chance out there?), and you too assume that the twins & Co. will show up in the near future to save the day. *shakes head* WAY too easy. I am studying History, among other things. Mostly History though. *g*
Sabercrazy - Yeah, I've seen the interview as well. Believe me, I LOVE Samuel L. Jackson, hell, I WORSHIP that man, but for once I have to say that he's crazy. I mean, purple? A Bad@$$ colour? Please! *shakes head* He's really three fries short of a Happy Meal... And I'm sorry to disagree, but a purple lightsaber NEVER looks impressive. Trust me, I tried it in Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy. It looks rather un-impressive. And no, Legolas isn't smart, but we knew that.
JustJordy - Uhm, yes, you have? I mean, you have seen me leave them alone for this long if you have read AEFAE. Legolas got to Aragorn there after 19 chapters, and here they've been seperated only for 8. Thanks for the compliment, but several people have come up with wolves, including - of course - C&S. And I think Siri had some too, and Thundera Tiger, and several other people. *g* Thanks nonetheless.
Salara - *g* Die Schlittenfahrt war toll, danke der Nachfrage. Wir hatten jede Menge Spass. Es gab auch keine gebrochenen Arme, Beine, Haelse usw. Elrond waere stolz auf uns gewesen! LOL, Aragorn 'kuschelt mit seinem Gaul'? Na ja, ich meine, der Gaul hat ihm doch das Leben gerettet und so weiter ... okay, du hast Recht. Er ist ein wenig seltsam, unser lieber Ranger. *g* Und Ja: Aragorn koennte in Zukunft wirklich Probleme haben, sein 'Schwert zu ziehen'.*anzuegliches Grinsen* Ich schwoere, ich waere da nie auf falsche Gedanken gekommen! Haettest du nichts gesagt... Ach, und: Ich habe die Faeden nicht in der Hand. Das ist alles die Scchuld von meinem Alter Ego. Ich bin, wie immer, unschuldig. *g*
Kikyo - *waves back* Hi yourself! Well, what can I say ... thank you? It's great to hear that you've enjoyed my other stories; it's always nice to hear what people think about the weird things I come up with. Like the Leafie thing. I didn't think it overly funny, but most of you guys seem to enjoy it. *shrugs* Humour is a wondrous thing. So, thank you very much for the review! *huggles*
Snow-Glory - Ah well, that depends on what you call 'nice'. I mean, there are LOTS of different definitions out there, and I'm sure one of them would fit the situation perfectly. *g* But no, he isn't going to be very nice to him to be honest. Don't worry, I won't hurt Aragorn much, at least not now. All these people screaming for ranger pain and angst and whatever forget about the little fact that someone needs to look after Legolas right now. *shakes head* Do they really want that stubborn elf to die? I hope not!
Lina - Lina! *huggles* Great to have you back! I missed you! I do hope your friend is better!? I've never been involved in a car accident before and have no desire to either, so I hope she's okay! *g* You're right of course! Aragorn goes out alone for some reason, and comes back IN PIECES!! *snickers* Stupid ranger. He never learns. LOL, that crocodile hunter scene was most convincing! I could almost hear the Australian accent! I'll admit though that it wasn't very nice was Estel did. I mean, it's understandable, but rather rude. Plus, it scared the poor evil dudes. *huggles crying guard* Don't worry, you won't die - now. *evil cackle*
Bailey - Uhm, no, Reran won't find him. And trust me, Legolas will have other problems than wrapping up Aragorn's arm. No, it's not as bad as Legolas' arm in the last story, it's not even broken. It's just a little bit mauled and maimed, but otherwise perfectly alright. *evil grin* Hmm, 'Mirkwood' isn't going to go anywhere, mainly because they're sensible, intelligent elves that don't run off into random directions. *g*
Tapetum Lucidum - Oh, it was the Superbowl yesterday? I completely forgot - then again, I never really knew. I was never very interested in football of any kind, be it the American version or not. Oh, see? Your SON, as in male! They're all like that! He's just seven and already as bad as our favourie duo! I on the other hand managed to get to the bottom of a _huge_ hill (*g*) without a scratch! Several times! Yay Nili! Hmm, you might be right. If a cave troll ate Teonvan, it wouldn't be hungry anymore. Then again, it might get sick. I would if I had eaten something as disgusting as Teonvan. *shudders* And I agree. Legolas' concern for his friend is quite adorable. Other people would call it stupid, but... *evil grin*
Marbienl - No, I didn't know that charming lady. I mean, I think I've heard of her, but I am usually not very interested in such ... psychos. *g* Unless they're my OCs, of course. LOL, really? You like a vulnerable Estel? Well, now that you mention it - it explains quite a lot, really... *g* The only thing is that you're obsessed with nightmares and stuff; there are actually very few times when it actually is possible to insert such scenes - without complerely ruining the plot, that is. But I have to defend him for once. He didn't attack the wolves; they attacked him. It's their own fault. I also have to say that there will be no Aragorn torture for quite a few chapters yet. Sorry about that. And I didn't say that they'd meet in Ch.14. I said they'd both be in chapters 14/15 and that Aragorn would find Legolas, find him, not meet with him or his captors. That's a difference. *g*

Alright, and I'm off to the Dutch-Spanish wars during the Seventeenth Century now. There are a bloody awful lot of them! A wonderful topic, don't tell me. *g*