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.

16. Friends And Enemies

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.


A/N:

*shoots FF.net suspicious looks* I have the very bad feeling it will screw up my formatting once more. I'll try to keep some space between everything, but does anybody have an idea why it does that? I have tried using both the Netscape Composer and Dreamweaver, and FF.net still screws it up. *sighs sadly* It hatessss me, yessss it doessss, precioussss... If anyone has the slightest idea why FF.net does what it does, I would be eternally grateful if you'd tell me - several moments at least anyway, which is already quite long for me. *g*

I am also sorry for posting a day later than I wanted, but there was simply no way I could have posted yesterday. Do you have these days as well, these days when you can hardly open your eyes and spend most of the day half-asleep? Well, that was yesterday; I couldn't even have found my way to the computer I think. I didn't sleep too much last week and simply had to catch up, sorry.

And concerning Aragorn's intelligence or rather the lack thereof: Well, he was ... uhm, well, I mean... *hangs head* As I said: It was incredibly stupid. But it was understandable (that's at least what I think), and you really must stop telling Aragorn what an idiot/reckless person/crazy ranger he is. I had to force him to come out of my closet and be in this chapter. Well, actually I have to force him and the others every time, but... *evil grin*

Very well, here's chapter ... what ... 16? Yeah, it's 16 already. *shakes head* Weird. Time flies when you're having fun - well, WE are having fun, I guess. Legolas, Aragorn and several other men/elves/horses/squirrels/trees wouldn't agree, I think... *g* They have no sense of humour. None at all.

Have fun and review, please!

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Chapter 16

Later Teonvan would not be able to tell from where the figure had appeared. It was simply there all of a sudden; a dark-clad shadow with its hands raised at its sides in a gesture of surrender.

A self-satisfied smirk began to spread on the human commander's face, but it faded quickly when he took a closer look at the stranger's face. Even though the hood of his cloak was pulled over his head, there was more than enough of his face visible to see that he was not an elf. It was a man, hardly more than twenty years of age, with dark hair and the coldest, angriest grey eyes Teonvan had ever seen.

For a few moments, the young man and Teonvan and his men merely stared at each other, neither side saying a word, before the human commander grinned and stated the obvious.
"You are not an elf, boy."

Aragorn blinked, still trying to get a hold of his anger and hatred that were beginning to burn a hole into his chest – hopefully not literally.
"Neither are you."

Cendan had spent the last few hours torn between overwhelming anger, mounting contempt for his much beloved superior and grudging respect for the elf since he had so adamantly refused to give Teonvan any satisfaction at all. All in all, he was in an exceptionally bad mood, and yet he found that his lips wanted to twist into a smile. It had been the obvious thing to say, but he had the distinct feeling that Teonvan wouldn't appreciate the other man's answer.

Teonvan's smile faded entirely and he took a step forward, his dark eyes boring into Aragorn's.
"You don't want to try and convince us that you dropped in here by accident?"

Aragorn looked at him evenly.
"Would you believe anything I said?"

"No," Teonvan grinned. "Not a word." He nodded at the sword at the other man's belt. "You heard me earlier. Put down your weapons and surrender or your friend here will pay the price. As will you."

For a second, the ranger simply looked at the brown haired man, contempt and hate radiating off him. Teonvan, however, was not willing to wait any longer, and when he turned back to the barely conscious elf, who was oblivious to what was happening around him, with the knife still in hand, Aragorn relented. He slowly reached for his quiver and removed it from his back, letting it fall into the snow a moment later. His sword and remaining daggers followed quickly, but the ranger spared the small mountain of weapons at his feet only a glance before he once again locked eyes with Teonvan, outwardly extremely unimpressed by his lack of means to defend himself.

The human commander began to grin again and nodded at two of his men to seize the weapons and their owner. He sauntered back to his listless elven prisoner and stopped at his side, playing with the swiftly cooling knife in his hands.
"So you are the mysterious elven warrior who came to rescue his dear friend here and slew a wolf pack on his way? I must admit I expected someone a little bit … older. Not to mention an elf, of course."

Aragorn divided his attention between Legolas' motionless form and the brown haired man for whom his feelings of hatred were even growing, something he had thought impossible.
"I am, apparently, old enough to avoid your scouts and sentinels." He raised a mocking eyebrow, ignoring the two men who had taken up his weapons and were now stepping forward to grab his arms. "You need better guards if nothing else. I would recommend men that aren't deaf or blind, and if they were more intelligent than a bunch of cave trolls, it would also be helpful, I believe."

The commander's grin seemed to freeze, and the knuckles of the hand that was holding the knife began to show white through the skin.
"You are just as cocky as he is, that much is sure," he said slowly, nodding at the two men to bring him closer who had taken hold of the young ranger's arms by now. "It is unfortunate that your little elven friend here is not really … inclined to greet you, but I am sure we could find something to rouse him. It will be much more interesting with a larger audience, don't you think? The more the merrier I always say!"

Aragorn fought against the hands of the two men restraining him and looked at the man in front of him with a glare so fierce that it would have made his father proud.
"Leave him alone! You are a coward, nothing more, nothing less! I am here; what more do you want?"

"Answers, boy," Teonvan replied, taking a step closer to the younger man. "Who are you? Are you alone? How did you find us?"

Aragorn clenched his jaw and merely stared at the other man, projecting an air that very clearly said that he did not intend to answer even one of the man's questions. Teonvan avoided his eyes after a moment, sighed sadly and turned back around to the bound elf. With a mocking, fake smile he reached out, took up the blonde elf's head by the hair and peered into the pale, nearly unconscious face of his prisoner, whose eyes stayed closed once again, to his substantial dissatisfaction.

"It would really be a shame to permanently mar such a pretty face," Teonvan stated lazily. "If someone were to deepen these cuts a little, they might scar. Or if someone were to get the idea to cut out one of his eyes – that would seriously damage the symmetry of things, wouldn't it? I mean, such a nice face with only one eye would be…"

"Strider, a Ranger of the North. I am alone, and I was lucky," Aragorn ground out and glared at the man, tensing his muscles and very tempted to break free of the hold his guards had on him. He knew that these men wanted Legolas alive, but that didn't mean that they had to keep him unscarred or unspoilt. This man would do what he had just threatened to Legolas; even a blind or dumb person could see that. The gleam that had been kindled in the human's dark eyes was clearly visible and unambiguous. He would love to cut out one of Legolas' eyes, about that Aragorn was certain.

"And if you lay one more finger on him, I will cut out your eye. No," the ranger added as an afterthought, deadly serious, "make that both eyes."

He saw the blow coming but had no way of avoiding it held fast between the two guards as he was, and so he merely gritted his teeth and did his best not to show any signs of discomfort as the brown haired man's fist connected with the side of his face and snapped his head to the side. So this man wasn't only a sick psychopath, he concluded darkly, he was an uncontrolled sick psychopath. Not a very good combination now that he thought about it.

Before he could dwell on all the implications of that combination though, the man grasped his chin and pulled his head up, a benign smile on his face that Aragorn did not like one bit.

"Yes," Teonvan smiled, "I see that you do indeed know our elven friend here. Yet you should learn what he has finally come to understand: No-one talks to me in this manner. Not our little elf here, and not you, ranger. Why have you followed us? What does our guest mean to you? You are a man. He is an elf. Why would you want to help him?"

"I would try to explain it had I any hope whatsoever that you would understand even a single word I say," Aragorn smiled back, knowing perfectly well that he wasn't helping his situation at all. As little as he liked the idea of deliberately antagonising a so obviously unstable man as this one, it was a lot better to keep his attention fixed on him than on Legolas. "Alas, I fear it would be a vain endeavour and those are the ones I never…"

This time he was just as helpless to dodge the blow as the last, and as he had anticipated it took the roaring in his head that promised to become a wonderful headache in the near future significantly longer to die down to bearable levels. That was what happened when people mistook your face for a flour sack, a wry voice in his head whispered mockingly.

"I am most tempted to tie you right next to your friend and demonstrate a few things to you," Teonvan said softly as he watched the dark haired ranger shake his head from side to side. This was indeed becoming more and more interesting by the second. Yet there was no reason to enjoy everything you had on one day, was there? "Unfortunately," he added quickly, "we don't have time for that right now."

He nodded at the two guards behind the younger man. "Get him over there and tie him up. We'll have to wait for the captain to return until we can decide what to do with him." He gestured at two more men. "You two: Search the area. Make sure that he really is alone and bring his horse here. He didn't walk here, that's for sure." He once again began to grin broadly as he turned back around and added, "Now, however, I have something to finish."

For a moment, Aragorn allowed himself to be dragged away by his guards, still a little bit stunned from the second blow, but then the meaning of the human commander's words sank in. His eyes grew wide, and he desperately tried to twist around in the men's grip. Legolas was hurt badly already, and if this man continued with what he had been doing earlier he might very well die after all, elf or not. Bodies had their limits, be they elven, human, dwarven, hobbit or otherwise.

Before Teonvan could close the distance between himself and the pole though, a dark haired, even-faced, menacing figure moved to intercept him, stepping forward out of the tight circle of the men with the menacing calmness that would have given even a Nazgûl cause for envy.
"No, sir. You haven't."

Teonvan raised his eyebrows, his dark eyes darkening even further.
"Excuse me?"

"I said, no, sir," Cendan repeated with a calmness and self-assuredness that never failed to enrage the brown haired commander. "It is enough."

Teonvan took a deep breath, obviously reining in his temper.
"You will step aside, Lieutenant. We've had this discussion before."

"Yes, sir," the dark haired man replied, not at all intimidated by his superior's murderous look. "And no, I will not step aside." Teonvan obviously wanted to say something, but Cendan cut him off almost immediately. "You were right, and your … methods were successful. I'll admit that. But this is enough. I am not prepared to face Captain Reran or our lord bearing the news that the elf is dead because you did not know when to stop, and neither are the men."

"He won't die," the commander shook his head. "Elves are tough, or so they say."

"Sir," Teonvan repeated, torn between annoyance and burning anger that seemed to fill his heart every time he had to talk to this insufferable excuse for a soldier. "Can't you see it? He is already seriously injured! If you don't stop it now, we will have a dead prisoner on our hands and will all join him on his journey to the next world once we get back home!"

Aragorn barely registered what the men were saying, for all his attention was fixed on his elven friend who appeared to have lost consciousness for good now. A part of him was glad that Legolas did not have to be aware of what was happening around him, but another, much larger part was worried out of his mind. Considering the way he looked, it could only mean that the elf's body was beginning to shut down in order to conserve strength and energy…

He blinked when his sight on his friend was suddenly obscured by the figure of one of the men, who had stepped closer to the pole the elf was bound to and lifted a hand to his face.
"Uhm, sir?" he said after a few moments. "I think he's not breathing properly." He frowned and leaned closer to the fair haired being. "In fact, I don't think he's breathing at all."

"What?!"

It was probably the only time anyone had seen Cendan lose his composure, but since everyone else in the clearing lost theirs too, they were too busy to properly savour the moment. In a matter of seconds most of the camp was gathered round the unconscious form of the elf, except for Aragorn who was desperately trying to shake off the hold the two men had on him. All the humans were talking at once, and had Legolas been conscious, he would most probably have been greatly amused by the panic and fear that was visible on most of the men's faces at the prospect of his death.

It was quickly established that the man had been incorrect and that the prisoner was still breathing, but labouredly and increasingly shallowly. Still, when Teonvan reached out and tipped the elf's head up, a barely suppressed gasp went through the men when they saw his blue lips and the chalky white colour on his face. Cendan grasped his knife hilt more tightly and swore by all the Gods he or even his mother's people worshipped that he would kill Teonvan should the elf really die. They would all be dead as well in that case, so he might as well die in the knowledge that he had rid the world of such a despicable creature.

"Your orders, sir?" he asked evenly, enjoying the barely controlled terror on Teonvan's face enormously.

The commander blinked and took a deep breath, obviously not knowing what to do. He had had some fun, yes, but that was hardly an excuse for the elf to die on him now!
"Where is that small lad, the one wearing the eternally frightened expression? He is rather skilled in herb lore, isn't he? I want him here, now!"

Cendan suppressed a rather evil grin.
"Lybran's cousin." He waited for a hopeful expression to spread on Teonvan's face before he added, "He died in the orc attack."

Teonvan's face fell and the men once again began to gesticulate and talk at volumes that would have impressed a cave troll, when suddenly an alarmed cry could be heard from somewhere to the left of the pole. The dark haired ranger had managed to wrench his left arm out of one of the men's grasp and was in the process of dragging his remaining guard into the direction of the unconscious elf and the rest of the men, intent on reaching his friend. He was remarkably successful for a moment until two more men rushed forward and helped the other two restrain him.

Aragorn, however, was not prepared to give up so easily.
"Listen to me!" He tried to escape the four men that were surrounding him, without much success however. "Look at him! He is dying! Let me attend to him! I am a healer, let me help him!"

Teonvan turned around, an eyebrow raised mockingly.
"You? A healer? You are a child!"

"My age is not important!" the younger man hissed, obviously hard-pressed not to lose his temper. "What is important is that he will die if nothing is done! How would your commander like that? How would your lord like that? What will he do to you when you return with a body instead of a prisoner? If you don't let me help him, you will definitely find out, that I promise you by Elbereth's stars!"

Teonvan merely continued staring at him, and that was the moment Cendan decided that he had allowed this … moron to have control over the situation long enough. If he wanted to discipline him afterwards, fine, but he wouldn't allow the prisoner to die if there was any way at all to save him. Besides, he was rather sure that Captain Reran would rather cut off one of his own arms than allow his second-in-command to discipline one of his men.

With a quick move of his hand Cendan ordered the guards to release the ranger who, once the men had let go of him, rushed over to the pole so quickly that all he was able to see was a dark-clad blur moving past him. Teonvan's eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets as the young man shot past him, and he whirled around to look at Cendan, red-faced and looking as if he was about to suffer a stroke, a possibility the dark haired lieutenant was more than willing to accept.

"Lieutenant Cendan! You are forgetting your place! I am in command of this camp, not you!"

"And I, Commander Teonvan," the younger man replied icily, knowing full well that, this time, he had the men's support, "am in charge of the prisoner. I will not return home in shame and failure because you couldn't control yourself! You heard the ranger: If nothing is done, the elf will die! Everybody can see that!"

Teonvan answered something, in a tone that sounded not quite as assured as it had only moment ago, but Aragorn was far too busy to notice anything except his elven friend. The humans surrounding the post had parted to let him pass and were now standing all around him, watching his every move. He heard a sudden, shrill neighing through the haze that seemed to envelop his mind, but he didn't turn around and only noticed that some men left and headed into the direction of the sounds.

For a second, Aragorn simply looked at the unconscious elf still bound to the pole, his heart overcome with guilt, fear and about a dozen other emotions. Ilúvatar, he should have been here sooner, and if he hadn't forgotten his stupid dagger, these people wouldn't have started anything like this in the first place…

The slowly sinking sun broke through the heavy clouds, her light touching the side of Legolas' face and emphasising his unnatural paleness, and Aragorn forced himself to snap out of his trance. As he had told the men, he was a healer, and if he kept behaving like a scared boy, his patient would die, that was as certain as the daily sunrise. Alright, he thought shakily, trying not to think of what he would do if Legolas truly died. He could do this.

Aragorn quickly took another step closer and pushed what was left of Legolas' shirt to the side, feeling how his heart grew cold and the icy hand of panic wrapped itself around his throat, threatening to suffocate him. Now that he was standing in front of his friend, he could see the wounds in all their glory, shining red against the elf's pale skin. The cuts were deep, the man found quickly, but had actually bled little since the blade had been hot. Hatred once again welled up inside of him, but Aragorn pushed it aside. Hatred would distract him, hatred would make him weak, hatred would not help Legolas, he repeated like a mantra as he continued to examine the rest of his friend's body. There were bruises all over Legolas' torso and face as well, but that hardly explained the state he was in at the moment…

The young ranger took a deep breath and pushed the fabric further to the side, already knowing what he would see. There, on the left side of the elf's torso was the wound he had watched the brown haired man inflict on his friend, the wound he had caused when he had driven the knife into his elven prisoner's chest. The man had been careful not to come too close to the fair haired being's heart, of course, Aragorn thought contemptuously as his hands hovered over the deep wounds, he wouldn't have wanted to risk killing his prisoner right away but rather inflict as much pain as…

The thought died in his mind when Legolas took another far too shallow breath which was closely followed by a painful-sounding cough, and Aragorn felt how the panic that had wrapped itself around his chest tightened its hold on him. For a moment he simply stared at the wound, shivering slightly when he thought he felt a faint, almost undetectable breath of air against his hand, before he abruptly allowed the slashed shirt to fall back into place and whirled to the side to look at the man closest to him.

"Cut him loose. Now!"

The human hastily avoided the young man's burning gaze and looked at his superiors for confirmation, but moved to obey when Cendan gave him a curt nod. While two of the men were busy cutting through the bonds that kept Legolas tied to the post, Aragorn took a second to survey the situation.

There were still enough men surrounding him to make any attempt to escape impossible – not that that would have been necessary, Aragorn thought darkly. He had no intention of going anywhere right now, not with Legolas in such a state. Several men however had returned to other activities, and on the far side of the camp five men were very busy avoiding being smashed to bits by the hooves of a very large, very black and very angry elven horse. Aragorn found himself wishing that Ráca would simply shatter a few of the men's heads. No, he amended as he watched the men cut through the rough ropes binding his friend to the pole, make that all the men's heads.

A second later the last rope was cut, and the elf's body started to collapse immediately, folding like a puppet whose strings had been severed. Before the two men could even reach out to grasp their prisoner, Aragorn had sprung forward and caught his friend, lowering him gently to the ground as close to the fire as possible. He quickly checked Legolas' wounds again and merely swallowed hard when he placed a hand against his friend's neck, finding the pulse far too rapid and fluttery. The bluish colour that had crept over his face and lips had even intensified, and that was the one thing that was nearly enough to send him into a state of mindless panic. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he knew exactly what these symptoms meant.

Aragorn carefully brushed a strand of blonde hair away from the elf's bruised forehead and looked up, fixing one of the humans standing around him with a stare so dark and penetrating that the man would later swear that the ranger had tried to burn a third eye socket into his forehead.

"I need blankets and water, and when I'm finished here I'll need a tent." The man hesitated for a moment, looking at his superiors again, and Aragorn glared at him, silver eye glittering dangerously in a way that could only be described as deadly. "Go!"

Without even waiting to see if the man was complying (which he did with a speed that would have impressed even the most subservient servant) he turned to the left, fixing the same penetrating stare on the two men who appeared to be the ones in charge here. He didn't want to spend time and energy figuring out who was in charge of whom and what here, and so he simply addressed both of the men.

"I need one of my bags. It's with my horse."

"Why?" Teonvan asked slyly, inwardly still fuming at Cendan. He knew that the men were on the young lieutenant's side and that he could do nothing now, but he would make sure he paid. As would the elf for having the nerve of trying to die on him now and the ranger for not coming out sooner.

Aragorn took a deep breath and reminded himself that he mustn't antagonise these people, for Legolas' sake.
"Because my herbs are in there. I need a herb the Elves call harucholor. I…"

If the young ranger had thought the younger, black haired man to be more reasonable than the other, his impression was quickly dispelled when Cendan's eyes darkened and he glowered at the man kneeling next to the motionless body of the elf.
"Do you take us for fools?" he asked sharply. "I know the herb you speak of! It is deadly!"

Aragorn blinked in confusion before understanding was slowly creeping into his eyes, yet the impatience in the grey depths did not diminish. Every second he spent talking was one second more Legolas went without help; did these people want him to survive or not?
"It can be deadly for humans because it causes the heart to slow down if you don't know how to dose it properly. For elves it works quite differently though. Their bodies are stronger, and you would need several plants to overdose one of their kind."

"Why should we believe you?" Teonvan asked scornfully. "It could be a pretence, and you could be planning to get to your bags for an entirely different reason. Why should we trust you when you say that you need it to treat him?"

"Why?" Aragorn repeated incredulously, looking at the human commander with wide eyes. He shot to his feet, ignoring the crossbows the two guards had still trained on him and Legolas and took a step into Teonvan's direction who flinched back, contrary to Cendan who stood his ground and returned his glare dispassionately.

"Why? Well, let me you why! I need the herb because you, after you got bored of beating him and cutting patterns into his skin, stabbed my friend into the side! Because he is suffocating right now, because you injured his lung! Because it will seal the wound, close it and hopefully save his life! That is why!"

He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes.
"I might have phrased it ambiguously earlier. Let me make it perfectly clear: You either give me my bags with all the herbs I need or he dies. It is as simple as that."

Teonvan traded a short look with Cendan, and for once the same realisation could be read on both their faces: This one would be trouble. Finally the brown haired commander gave the men that had more or less managed to restrain the black horse a sharp nod and they began to try and remove the bags from the still rather uncooperative animal's back. A moment later he turned back to Aragorn who was still staring at him, something that made the man feel highly self-conscious.

"Alright," he said, nodding at the young ranger, "You get your bags. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: If he dies, you die."

To his surprise, the younger man began to smile, but it was a dark, threatening smile that caused inexplicable shudders to race down Teonvan's back.

"No," Aragorn said very softly, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the other man's, "If he dies, I will make sure you die before I do. You can count on it."

The disconcerting smile was still on the ranger's face when one of the men who had been busy restraining the horse stepped closer, holding the young man's bags with one hand and his obviously broken nose with the other. The sight of the man's bleeding face caused the smile on Aragorn's face to widen for a moment before he hurriedly snatched one of the bags with his left hand and whirled around, back to the unconscious elf. A small voice in his head whispered insistently that he wasn't helping his situation by talking back to the men like this, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. As long as they provided him with the means of helping his friend, he didn't care in the slightest what they might do to him later.

He let the bag with bandages, herbs and healing utensils drop to the ground and knelt down next to the still elf, quickly looking for the water and blankets one of the men had deposited next to Legolas. He hastily began to unfold the heavy woollen covers and carefully wrapped his elven friend into them, trying not to move him too much in the process which was impossible of course. Even the most inexperienced healer would see that the elf's body was well on its way into shock, and if there was one thing a person whose body was going into shock did not need, it was to lie bare-chested in the snow.

After he had made sure there were several layers of blankets between the elf and the ground, Aragorn forced himself not to upend the bag in his haste to get to the utensils he needed. He shifted through the bag and spread all the things he could possibly need out on the blanket next to him, cursing softly under his breath when his right arm protested against the movements. For a fleeting, horrible moment he thought he had forgotten the herb, but then he discovered it at the bottom of the linen sack, hidden under a large pile of bandages. Vowing by all the Valar he could think of that he would thank his father for insisting that he always kept a well-stocked healing bag close to him (something Elrond had taken to when his foster son had become old enough to join his brothers' hunting expeditions), he grabbed the delicate, light green, brittle herbs and placed them next to the other items.

A moment long he could only stare at the small mountain of bandages and other healing utensils, paralysing fear wrapping itself around his heart. Nobody knew much about such an injury; all that was known was that this condition could be caused by an injury to the patient's chest, either by a blow to the ribs or a stab, arrow or crossbow bolt wound. Not even his elven father knew with absolute certainty what exactly happened when the chest was pierced either by a bone fragment or a sharp object; all he had been able to determine during his many ages as a healer was that it somehow disturbed the body's precarious balance and allowed air to enter the chest cavity, preventing the lungs from working properly.

Aragorn took a deep breath, desperately wishing his father to be here. Legolas had been lucky from what he could see, if one could call such a thing lucky at all. The knife had apparently not pierced the lung itself but only caused it to cease working properly, and if he was able to close the wound and seal it, therefore restoring the former condition, it might be enough to give the lung the opportunity to heal and start functioning again. Then again, another part of him reminded him darkly, it might not, and then he would be helpless to do anything but sit back and watch his best friend die. He had neither the equipment nor the experience to drain the air from the chest cavity as he had watched his father do once, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to do it anyway with an injured right arm.

The young ranger shook his head forcefully and reached for the water bottle one of the men had brought, beginning to clear the stab wound. He could almost watch Legolas grow paler, prompting him to work faster and push all his emotions into a dark, secluded part of his mind. As if in a trance he cleared the wound and reached for the small bunch of harucholor, taking up two sprigs after a moment's hesitation and wetting them with a little water. He would have liked to use three or even four sprigs, but apart from helping any wound to seal and heal quickly the herb also lowered the blood pressure and slowed the heart rate, and that was the one thing Legolas would not be able to survive now. All this had already put a great strain on the elf's system, and if his blood pressure were to be lowered even more, he would very likely die.

Putting the herb aside for a few moments to give it time to react to the water, he took up the small case containing the slender mithril needles his father had given him when he had turned sixteen with the words that he was "old enough to patch himself up now". He didn't look forward to stitching up anyone's wound with a barely functioning right hand, least of all Legolas', but there was nothing he could do about that.

Aragorn quickly found himself cursing the humans in all the tongues he knew as he started sewing the edges of the wound together. The hot blade had caused the skin to redden and blister, therefore causing the elf considerable pain every time the needle in the young ranger's hand pierced the burnt skin. There was nothing worse than stabbing a needle repeatedly into burnt skin, a small voice inside the man's skull reminded him teasingly as he tried to ignore the soft sounds of pain that Legolas couldn't hold back in his unconscious state. Aragorn shook his head again, flicking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. He knew that, he thought irritated, but he had no choice! He had to sew this wound, otherwise air would continue to enter the chest and Legolas would suffocate!

Finally, after an eternity, Aragorn tied off the last stitch and eyed his handiwork. Well, he thought darkly as he quickly placed the herbs on top of the stitches and began to wrap the wound, his father would not be very impressed. His stitches couldn't compete with the Lord of Rivendell's even on one of his better days, and today was certainly anything but. Besides, he couldn't even use both his hands to their full extent, so the result was as he had expected: Irregular and far from perfect.

He took a deep breath and fastened the edge of the bandage, peering into Legolas' pale face and sending a fervent prayer to Elbereth Gilthoniel that the harucholor would work as it should. If it didn't and the wound wasn't properly sealed, air would continue to stream into the blonde elf's chest cavity and he would die a slow, agonising death. Aragorn searched his friend's unconscious face for any sign that he might be breathing easier or that he blue colour might be diminishing, but found none, of course. It was far too early anyway, he reminded himself as filled the small kettle he had taken out of the bag several hours earlier, or so it felt. He quickly filled it with water and placed the athelas next to it to have it at hand when the water started to boil. The herb would need time to start working, he told himself firmly. He would have to wait.

He turned back from the fire and looked at his friend's face, gingerly reaching out to touch a cold cheek just below the blood-crusted cut that covered most of this side of Legolas' face.
"Listen to me, stubborn elf," he whispered softly, "Listen to me carefully, for this is very important! If you awake later and cannot remember my words, I shall be very upset."

Aragorn stared at the pale face of his elven friend, leaning a little closer as he switched to Elvish, both so that the men wouldn't be able to understand what he was saying and because he was somehow hoping that Legolas would respond to words spoken in the Grey Tongue.
"Si ú-firithach, heniach nin? Ae cerich, degithon le a-chaim nín."

He tried to give Legolas the look to emphasise his words, but failed miserably when his eyes took in his friend's still far too pale, bruised and cut face. There was no indication that the elf had heard what he had been telling him, for which he was mostly thankful. He would need to treat the rest of the elf's injuries, and it was better by far if Legolas was unconscious. He still remembered the burns he had suffered when they had visited Lake-town a few months ago, and the faint echo of the incredible pain almost caused him to wince openly. No, it was much better if Legolas was sleeping while he was stitching up these cuts. With a sigh, he took up the athelas and threw it into the small pot of now boiling water. He might as well get started.

Almost an hour later, Aragorn sat back on his haunches, barely suppressing a shiver that raced through him due to cold, worry and exhaustion. He had just cleaned the last of Legolas' wounds, namely the cuts on his face, after cleaning and bandaging almost every single square inch on the elf's chest. He had stitched half a dozen of the deepest cuts and had consented himself to leaving the rest to heal on their own, both because they were not as deep and because he knew that Legolas would be in a lot of pain anyway when he awoke. There was no need to add to it by stitching burnt skin if it wasn't absolutely necessary. He had opted for not using any more of the harucholor on these cuts, even though he had been more than tempted. The danger of lowering Legolas' blood pressure was too high to merit even the herb's sealing properties.

The man took a deep breath and covered his friend's upper body with the last blanket. He reached out with his left hand – his right one was beginning to give him serious trouble due to all the delicate movements he had forced on it during the past few hours – and placed stiff fingers on the fair haired elf's throat. After a few seconds he closed his eyes and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Legolas' pulse was still too fast for one of the Firstborn, but it was slower than it had been an hour ago, thank the Valar.

Aragorn opened his eyes again and moved his hand upwards, letting it rest against the side of the elf's face. It might be his imagination of course, and he would need to wait for several more hours until he could be sure whether or not his treatment had been successful, but he was almost sure that Legolas' colour had improved as well. His lips didn't look as blue anymore, and his breathing seemed a little bit easier.

He smiled, pressing his hand against the other's cheek.
"Thank you," he whispered softly, not really knowing himself if he was addressing Legolas or the Vala who had shown them mercy.

A deep voice ripped him out of his musings, almost causing him to jump in surprise. He had completely forgotten about his surroundings during these past few hours.
"Will he live?"

Aragorn looked up, having to blink twice before he identified the man standing above him. It was the younger of the two commanders who somehow managed to almost blend into the growing twilight all around them. The young ranger blinked again. When exactly had the sun begun to sink below the horizon? He must have missed that particular event.

"I don't know," he answered tiredly. "If he survives the next few hours, he will live, yes."

The other man looked at him emotionlessly and finally stepped to the side, revealing two men who were standing behind him, crossbows raised and ready to fire.
"You wanted a tent, ranger."

Aragorn nodded, feeling numbed and a little incredulous. Here he was, surrounded by men who had tortured his friend and were most likely planning to kill him, and yet he was having quite a normal conversation. What a life he was leading…
"Yes. If he isn't kept warm, he will die before the moon has risen."

Cendan nodded as well.
"Come."

Aragorn gave the dark haired man a long look and finally inclined his head, gathering his scattered healing utensils and stuffing them back into his bag. A few moments later he stood to his feet, swaying slightly under the unconscious elf's weight he held in his arms. Legolas, he decided wryly, had not weighted as much when he had last carried him. That was what he would tell him once that stubborn elf awoke, along with a few other things that urgently needed to be addressed…

The lieutenant gave him an unreadable look and turned on his heel, walking off into the direction of the tent that had been made ready for them. Aragorn gave Legolas a quick look to make sure that he was still asleep and that moving didn't hurt him too much and began to follow the other man, trailed by the two guards who didn't take their eyes off him for a second.

Walking in front of the ranger, Cendan found that he was almost disappointed that the elf would apparently survive. He wouldn't really have enjoyed it if he had died, both because he had refused to give Teonvan what he had wanted from him and because they would all die as well in that case. If the elf died, their liege would kill them all in a most unpleasant manner, that much was sure.

No, Cendan thought a little bit amused, that was not the reason why he was disappointed. He would merely have really enjoyed it to kill Teonvan.

++++++++++

Night had fallen some hours ago, and the corridors of King Thranduil's palace were empty and deserted.

Usually, many elves would still be about, walking to or from the Great Hall where most feasts were held, but not today. Not one elf in Mirkwood felt like celebrating anything, and the hall had remained empty and dark every evening for the past six days.

Two elves, however, were not a bit unhappy about this fact as they moved stealthily down the corridors, trying to keep to the stone walls and stay away from any light source to the best of their – admittedly remarkable – abilities. It was a good thing too that virtually no elf was still wandering around the palace, because everyone who would have laid eyes on the two dark haired elves would have at least demanded to know where they were going if not have called for the palace guards.

Both were packed not only with their weapons but also with numerous apparently rather heavy bags and satchels they had slung over their shoulders, and were looking more like packed mules than anything else. That appearance notwithstanding, the two elves moved quickly and soundlessly, and had soon reached the door leading to the part of the kitchens which was located in one of the wings of the palace.

One of the two stepped forward and carefully opened the large double door, motioning his companion that he could follow a moment later. Both elves hurried into the dark room that became even darker when the door closed behind them. It was pitch-black, so dark that not even elven eyes could penetrate the gloom effortlessly, and that was the reason for what happened only a second later.

The two elves had just taken a few steps into the room and had narrowly avoided a long wooden table when one of them crashed into something rather soft and went down with a small, shocked cry.

"Elbereth!"

"Ouch! That hurt, you big oaf!"

"Eru, what … are you alright, Elladan?"

"I don't know, brother – would you get off me!!"

"I would love to, stupid Noldo, but there is the small matter of your knee that is pressing into my chest!"

"Who in the name of the One are you … Elrohir!"

"Yes," the younger twin mumbled under his breath while he was working to ignite a small candle he had found on the table's edge. "Just a second … there we are."

The wick finally caught fire and a small cone of light appeared in the darkness, revealing a rather curious picture indeed. Elrohir who was holding the candle did his best not to grin and finally gave up, deciding that this sight was amusing enough to warrant such an obvious display of amusement.

Sprawled on the ground were his older brother and a silver haired elf they knew only to well, glaring daggers at each other or at least trying to since Celylith's hair had fallen over his face and obscured his eyes. The two of them had managed to entangle their limbs to an extent where it was hard to say who was pinning whom to the ground, although Elladan's knee was indeed pressing into the other elf's breastbone, that much was true.

Elrohir cocked his head to the side and raised an amused eyebrow suggestively.
"I am not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Elrohir!" Celylith gasped, trying to regain his breath which had been so rudely knocked out of him. "Just what are you implyin…"

"I don't care what he wants to imply," Elladan grumbled angrily as he tried to untangle himself, "All I know is that I will kill him if he doesn't help us up, Elbereth help me!"

"Once you two manage to untwist yourselves, of course," the younger twin grinned evilly, but reached down and grabbed his brother's hand, trying to pull him to his feet. "I am rather tempted to leave you here and get some people to have a look at the two of you. Preferably your father, my Lord Celylith, and I am rather sure King Thranduil would be most interested as well in this ... unique display of I-don't-really-know-what."

"If you do that," Celylith ground out, taking an easier breath as Elladan's weight was removed from his chest, "I will kill you, Elrohir. I swear by all the Valar that I will kill you, slowly."

Elrohir merely continued to grin evilly, but a few seconds later the two other elves were standing on their feet, brushing off their clothes and rubbing bruised ribs. After making sure that all his limbs were still attached and that his chest hadn't caved in, Elladan turned and glared at Celylith.
"What are you doing here, Celylith? It's the middle of the night! And these are the kitchens!"

"Is that so?" the silver haired elf asked sarcastically. "Yes, now that you mention it: These are the kitchens, and if it's night it does explain why it's so dark."

"Celylith!" Elrohir hissed, picking up the last bag Elladan had dropped during his little collision. "You know what we mean!"

"I could ask the same question," the slightly younger elf retorted testily. "With the one very important difference that this is my home and you are guests of my king who are sneaking through the palace like a pair of thieves."

"And it is your habit to carry provisions and your weapons with you at all times, I take it?" Elladan asked silkily.

"Of course," Celylith nodded ironically and took up his bags as well. "Doesn't everyone?"

The three young elves grinned at each other like elflings who had just been caught trying to play the same prank.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Elrohir asked reproachfully. "We would have agreed to take you with us if you had only told us that you were planning the exact same thing as we! We're not that heartless, you know."

"Because you would have denied everything, as I would have had you asked me," the other elf explained cheekily. "Besides, who says that I want you to 'take me with you'? I know these woods a lot better than you do, and if, and I cannot stress that word enough, if we should travel together, I refuse to be led by a pair of Noldor who couldn't distinguish between a fir and a pine tree!"

"Trees?" Elladan asked thoughtfully. "Those are the tall, brown and green things, aren't they?"

"I think so," Elrohir nodded, grinning at Celylith. "Or are they the grey, hard things that lie on the ground?"

Celylith managed to hide a grin and put on a haughty expression, turning around to walk over to the doors leading to the courtyard.
"You should contemplate applying for the position of court jesters. I will talk with my father; he might be able to convince the king to employ you."

"Alright," Elrohir agreed as he and his brother followed the silver haired elf. "But let's find your troublesome prince and our equally troublesome brother first, shall we? After that we can plan our future career."

Celylith grinned openly as he opened the door and stepped out of the room into the biting chill of the wind, motioning the twins to follow him which they did, their feet leaving no trace on the white, gleaming snow.
"And what a career it would be!"

Elladan closed the door behind him and was just about to retort something when a tall, slender figure stepped out of the building's shadows, moving as soundlessly as a wraith in the night.
"An unrivalled one I am sure. I know no-one as perfectly suited for that position as you two, which your latest actions have once again proven beyond doubt."

The three young elves whirled around, only to freeze on the spot when they saw who had just caught them red-handedly.
"Lord Glorfindel," Celylith breathed horror-stricken. "A … good evening to you, my lord."

Elrohir took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. Glorfindel did enjoy scaring people – and especially them – far too much in his opinion.
"That was unnecessary," he said lightly. "How did you know where to find us?"

Glorfindel gave him a pitiful look, setting down several bags and a large quiver.
"The kitchens are the easiest way to leave the palace. The doors aren't locked from the inside, it's a remote part of the building and not far from the stables. It was obvious."

He arched a golden brow as he let his eyes wander over the guilty faces of the twins to finally come to rest on the young silver haired elf who seemed to be close to dying of shame, judging by the scarlet colour that was beginning to spread on his face.
"I must say that I have been expecting you two," he nodded at the shamefaced twins, "to do something like this, but I had thought you to have more sense than them, son of Celythramir."

Celylith's face flushed even more, something all elves present including he himself had thought unlikely. Why did it have to be Lord Glorfindel?
"My lord, I…"

"It was our idea, Glorfindel," Elrohir hurried to interrupt his friend. "He is not to blame."

"And don't even think of trying to dissuade us from this course of action," his older brother added. "This is the only way; talking will solve nothing. Please do not come between us and finding our brother. We do not want to offend you by disobeying you directly."

"But we will if we have to," Elrohir said softly and stepped next to his brother. "We will not return home without Estel."

Two pairs of serious grey eyes locked with bright blue ones, and Glorfindel felt the anger in his heart fade. The twins reminded him so much of Elrond, and yet there was also much of their mother in them. Celebrían, the golden haired elf thought mournfully, had always been incredibly stubborn as well, just like her husband, and many times he had looked at the Lady of Rivendell and had seen the determined sparkle in her eyes that could now be seen in the twins'. He sighed inwardly. If the two of them were in that kind of mood, it was pointless to argue with them, that was something he had found out long ago.

"You would leave Lord Thranduil's halls like this?" he asked softly. "And dishonour your father's name and your own house?"

"What do you wish us to do, my lord?" Elrohir asked equally softly, but with a dark, sarcastic undertone in his voice. "To stay here and do nothing while our brother is in danger? To return home and tell our father that we have lost the Prince of Mirkwood and Isildur's heir? That we did not search for them, did not ride out to track them, did not try to help them because it would have been impolite or politically inconvenient?" He shook his head darkly and made a move to walk past the other elf towards the stables. "You insult us, my friend."

Before he could take more than half a dozen steps, Glorfindel's hand shot out and halted him in mid-motion. Elrohir looked up and met the elf lord's serious, slightly amused eyes.
"I meant to imply no such thing, young one, and I certainly did not mean to insult any of you. To be honest, I had expected nothing less of you, and would probably even have been disappointed if you had acted any other way. It would have been highly out of character." He sighed and gave a small, somewhat weary smile. "The stables are that way, I believe?"

Celylith blinked quickly, having the distinct feeling that he had missed something important.
"My lord?"

Elladan merely grinned evilly.
"Ada is going to kill you, you know that."

Glorfindel shook his head wryly.
"He's going to kill me anyway, and be it only because Aragorn got into trouble in the first place. I might just as well try and find him and therefore earn myself a quick death."

"Spoken like a true warrior," Elrohir grinned as well now, more than relieved that they wouldn't have to go against their old tutor's wishes. "Let's go then, shall we?"

Celylith forcefully shook off the surprise that had shocked him into near silence and nodded.
"Be a little quieter then," he told Elrohir, still a little bit shocked by the events. "There are guards about, and if we truly want to escape the fate of having to face the king and my father tomorrow morning, we should try not to encounter them."

"That sounds like a good plan," Glorfindel nodded darkly. "Lead the way, young one."

The silver haired elf gave the other a small bow and began to lead the three Imladris elves into the direction of the stables, doing his best to keep them out of sight and away from the paths he knew the guards woudl take. If he had needed any more proof that he was walking into certain doom, it had just presented itself. To try and find Legolas and Aragorn had seemed like a very good idea some time in the very distant past. It hadn't seemed quite as good anymore after Elladan had nearly broken every single rib he called his own, and had ceased to have any appeal at all after Lord Glorfindel had appeared on the scene.

Celylith shook his head hopelessly as he pressed his body against the wall of a building. He would kill Legolas and Aragorn for getting him into such a position. This was all their fault.

++++++++++

Cendan was very sure that his captain would become the first man to die from anger he had ever seen.

Well, if he was perfectly honest, Reran wasn't truly angry; he was more furious than any other being the young lieutenant had ever laid eyes on in his whole life. And that, he thought quietly, included his lord, which meant quite a lot in his opinion.

Reran looked at his lieutenant, the red colour that had marked his face only moments ago dissipating and being replaced by deathly pallor. Once in a while a shudder raced through the blonde man's body, a sign of his struggle to remain in control of his temper and not to do what he wanted to do with all his heart, namely to draw his sword and kill Teonvan in a most gruesome manner.

"Please," Reran ground out, his hands balling to fists at his sides. "Please do repeat yourself, Lieutenant."

Cendan's face remained an emotionless mask, but on the inside he was squirming like a worm on a fishhook. He carefully avoided looking at his superior or the tent at their backs.
"I said, sir, that the elf will most likely survive. There is nothing to worry about."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Cendan knew that they had been the wrong thing to say. Reran's face paled even more and his mouth was little more than a thin line as he whirled back around and threw back the canvas that obscured the tent's entrance, his movements jerky and speaking of barely suppressed fury.

"Nothing to worry about? Do not tell me what and what not to worry about, Cendan!"

Cendan took a deep breath and looked past his captain into the tiny space, not even averting his eyes when a look of annoyance and contempt seemed to burn a hole into his forehead. The ranger was not happy that he and his "patient", namely the unconscious elf, were disturbed all the time, and he could even understand it. Teonvan had been here several times, and now Reran was throwing back the tent flap for the second time this evening. The dark haired man said nothing though but merely returned his attention to the elf who was lying in his arms, swathed in blankets and still looking about as lively as your average corpse.

"He will live, sir," Cendan began again, asking himself where in the name of the Gods Teonvan had hidden himself. It should be the commander who had to explain this catastrophe to their superior, not him! "The elf…"

"The elf, Cendan," Reran interrupted him, allowing the fabric to fall back into place, "belongs to our lord. Not to you, not to me, and certainly not to Teonvan! To return home empty-handed means certain death, all of you know that!" The captain's voice had risen to a shout, and the rest of the men who had been pretending to be part of the scenery winced. "You disobeyed a direct order, my direct order! Why?!"

Cendan swallowed hard. It hadn't been more than ten minutes since Reran and the three other scouts had arrived in the camp, obviously in a very bad mood for having been fooled by a single elf (or rather a ranger), but things had already gone from bad to worse. Teonvan could actually count himself lucky that darkness had fallen, offering him some cover, otherwise Reran would most likely have already killed him.

The young lieutenant sighed as he realised that the blonde captain was still waiting for an answer. It went against his nature to denunciate others, even if they were Teonvan and his men, but this time he had no choice.
"Commander Teonvan ordered it, sir," he explained softly. "He wanted to … persuade the ranger to show himself. And it worked."

Reran closed his eyes and released a shaking breath, trying to keep himself from strangling someone, anyone. Cendan was right. He and his men had been misled by a boy while Teonvan had succeeded where they had not. That fact did nothing to ease the anger in his heart, however; in fact, it only served to fuel it.

"I can see that, Cendan," he said a little bit calmer and opened his eyes again, letting them wander over his men. "I also see that you acted under orders. Be assured that I will personally inform our liege about Commander Teonvan's behaviour and demand that he is punished for his actions, as severely as possible. His actions were unprofessional, disloyal and traitorous."

He turned back to his lieutenant whose face seemed to have frozen in shock, just as the faces of all the other men around them.
"Follow me to the commander's tent, Lieutenant. We need to ... discuss this situation."

Cendan nodded and waited for the other to precede him, his mind still reeling. What Reran had just said meant a slow, agonising death for Teonvan, something that didn't disturb him all that much now that he thought about it. Every captain had the right to go to their lord and demand one of his men's public punishment. Even though Teonvan was one of their liege's favourites, he would most probably grant Reran's request – their lord had always made a point of supporting his captains' decisions concerning their men.

Still, this wouldn't be a normal public lashing or something like that. Reran had used the two words that were most feared by any of their soldiers, namely "disloyal" and "traitorous". Ever since Cendan could remember it had been the way of things: Men who were said to be disloyal died in agony in the dungeons of the castle; for that even the slightest suspicion or rumour was enough. If Reran stated in front of their lord that his second-in-command was a traitor to their lord and their mission, Teonvan would share that fate without doubt.

Had it been any other man's life that was in question, the young man might even have felt some pity for him, but he couldn't and didn't wish to in this case. Teonvan would not be happy to hear about this new development, a small voice in his head whispered, he would not be happy at all… Cendan silenced it with a shake of his head. What would the man be able to do? There was nothing he could do but try to dissuade Reran from carrying out his threat, something he would never be able to achieve.

Inwardly, Cendan began to grin as he led his captain over to Teonvan's tent. This was turning out to be a good day after all.

++++++++++

TBC...

++++++++++

harucholor - 'wound-closer', a healing herb
Si ú-firithach, heniach nin? - You will not die now, do you understand me?
Ae cerich, degithon le a-chaim nín- If you do, I will kill you with my (own) hands
ada - father (daddy)

++++++++++

Yes, Teonvan IS in trouble now - or is he? *evil laugh* Oh, I love being cryptic - and evil, of course, let's not forget evil - but I guess you already knew that. The next chapter will be here on Sunday at the latest, which is good too since, because of that evil paper, I am only a chapter ahead at the moment. *shakes head* Bad Nili. Bad Nili might be encouraged by a review to write faster though. *g* Very much, actually.

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Additional A/N:

TrinityTheSheDevil - Uhm, yes, they do. Very much so, actually. Frighteningly much, to be perfectly honest. *g* LOL, they're evil reincarnated - meant in a loving way? Believe it or not - I know exactly what you mean... *blushes* Thank you. I like being mean, no, I LOVE it. *huggles* Thanks! Great to hear you liked the cliffy. I thought it was nice, too. *evil grin*
Aratfeniel - Well, I think I am _learning_ to write torture, which is beginning to scare me, really. It says loads about my state of mind. *g* Uhm, yes, I guess Aragorn is very reckless. *shrugs* He's stupid, too, let's not forget that.
Elenillor - *sobs* I know! It's horrible! I don't WANT them to be so long! I try to keep them around 15 pages, but I fail almost every single time. I really must learn to control these horrible, mean, refusing-to-shut-up characters. Thanks a lot, it's very nice to hear that you liked the story so far. If you can't read a chapter you know should already be there, try to add an "a" or "a/" to the end of the link. It almost always works. Almost. *g* Oh, and I totally agree: You can overdo the torture. Some stories are just one long torture scene, and that's just plain annoying.
Snow-Glory - That is a very interesting idea. I think it would be very funny to out that into the next story, or the story after that, if I manage to hold onto some measure of sanity for so long. Celylith should definitely be the one to get them into trouble - at least once... *g* LOL, you want Aragorn to kill some of them, for "stress relief"? Now that's evil! They're men; evil men, yes, but men nonetheless! *shakes head* Really... *blushes* Thank you! I am not nearly as good as C&S though, and I never will be, I fear. For that my English is really not good enough. *shrugs*
Gwyn - Well - maybe a little bit. But not all that much, he's rather annoying most of the time. And, to be honest, I don't think that I could kill _him_. I could kill a lot of other OCs though. NO problem at all. *evil grin*
Deana - Yes, I guess that would be a rather ditting description. "Ow" sounds about right. *g* Oh, I love being evil...
Firnsarnien - *watches her wiggle her eyebrows* Well, if you say so... And I'll admit that, yes, that last one was a cliffy. I liked it a lot. I love cliffies, you know that, right? *ducks hail of arrows* Yes, I guess you did... *g* And don't even think about trying to harm my alter ego! She's a part of me, a much beloved part, so leave her alone! Don't forget: I have my balrog Stan to protect me, and somewhere there have to be a few wargs as well... And of course you love the torture - what else is new? And yes again, there just ight be a little H/C in the next few chapters. Only a little of course... *evil grin*
Iverson - FF.net is going through a ... phase right now, let's call it that, shall we? It has screwed up the ormatting of every single one of my chapters, and I just don't know what's wrong! I think I'll go insane! *shakes fist at FF.net* Die, evil website from hell, die!!! And we all knew Aragorn was doing something stupid, including Aragorn I guess. He's just like that - stupid. *shrugs* Typical male, if you ask me. Oh, and one last thing: I like you 'real' name. Very nice. *g*
Crystal-Rose15 - *g* So you found them, huh? Well done - they can hide themselves rather well, can't they? You really must stop calling them the "Gruesome Twosome". It's not very nice - very fitting though... *evil grin* And you're right: Estel might lose his mind, at least a little bit. That would mean that he had one in the first place though - and there's no proof for that... *g*
Mouse5 - But ... but ... I like my keyboard! I don't want to put it down! Its nice and black and has lots of lovely extra keys - we needssss it, preciousss! We wantsss it, my sweet! *shakes head* See what you've done! *g* I've gone to evil heights? I'll ... take that as a compliment, I think... And you seem to know Celylith rather well - I'm impressed! Then again, he's just as foolish as the rest of them... *shakes head and wanders off*
Jenny - I know, I know, but, well, my _computer_ is Mordor. We have a network at home, and when I put it up, I called it "Mordor". My computer's name is Barad-dûr, my sister's is Orthanc, and my laptop is Minas Morgul. Yes, I know that Orthanc isn't in Mordor, but she didn't like "Morannon". *shakes head* Silly girl. Rabbit of Iron - *blinks* He's cute in pain, huh? Yup, you need professional help. I know I do. LOL, don't mention the war - I love Fawlty Towers! John Cleese is wonderful... *g* "To Walk in Night 2 - Revenge of the Spiders"? Sounds a little bit like George Lucas on a bad day, but... *g* And Hellzapoppin ... well ... it's a movie. About - well, it's hard to describe. It takes place in .. what, '41? I don't know, it's about ... ah, hell, just go and see it. I really can't describe it.
Bailey - Uhm, yes, he is supposed to do that. I told him to do that, actually, so he is supposed to do that. Why I told him to do that? Because I'm evil, that's why. *evil grin* See? Evil. And you misunderstand poor Reran. He's not really bad, he wouldn't have hurt dear Aragorn just for spite. He may not be as reasonable as Adruran, but he's not evil either. Not as evil as I am, anyway. *g*
Narina Nightfall - *shakes her hand* Join the club. I'm a bad person too. If it happens again that you know there should be a chapter but that you can't access it yet, try to add an "a" or "a/" to the link you want to see. Most of the time that works, not always though. But most of the time. *smiles* Yes, I know you love elven horses, or all horses for that matter. And about Rashwe - let's just say I chose that name _before_ I started to look into Sindarin or Quenya, so it's supposed to mean Trouble, but it doesn't. If you've read that translation in the Grey Company Dictionary: Throw it away. Burn it. Bury it. Just get rid of it, it's simply not correct. You are actually thinking about my plot? Really? Wow, that's flattering, thanks! And let me tell you, you not too wrong about the female OC - apart from the not-dying bit. I think. I'm not sure yet though. And you did what? Borrowed a book which fell into the river? Nope, I won't help you! Books are sacred objects in my universe, and whoever harms them in any way deserves death. Sorry. *g* LOL, you love elf torture, except for Elrohir? Well, then you might be wrong here - I am fair if nothing else. Everyone involved will get his fair share of injuries. Yes, I read Curse of Angmar, parts of it, that is. I didn't have time to read the whole thing, and now I don't have time to read it again. *sighs* It's sad, I know. *winces* Bikini Wax is evil. More than evil, downright vicious. Hmm, about the scarring: Yes I do guess both elves and rangers scar if not treated properly. I'd imagine that Estel has a few scars by now, but I think that you would need a lot more to make Legolas actually scar. I guess it would have to be a really bad wound and it would have to go untreated for long. *raises eyebrow* Yes, you DO love Elrohir. I know. Oh, and yes again, there were two letters. One to Thranduil and one to the twins/Elrond. You plot is good, but the men aren't that naïve. Sorry. *g*
Kikyo - Glad you liked it. I really hate writing torture; no-one's going to believe me, I know, but it's true. There will be some Aragorn torture though (I've got to be fair, haven't I? *g*), but later. Not right now, sorry.
Alilacia - Yes! A tree _jumped_ in front of my _sled_! Are they evil or what?! They hate humans, I swear they do! Tree: No, we only hate you. Oh, do be quiet. I'm not an elf, I refuse to talk to an overgrown flower. *narrows eyes* Which one of C&S' stories are you referring to? To be honest, I haven't really had the time to read their last one - which is a shame, I know, but I can't remember any hot knives - that's why I did it. *wide-eyed* Did they do something with hot knives? *shakes Alilacia* Tell me! *sighs sadly* Yeah, our snow's gone too. But it snowed yesterday, a lot, but it was too warm to last. Too bad. *g*
Starlight - LOL, ja, Recht hast du. Sie brauchen nur einen grossen Eimer oder Sack oder so um die Ueberreste der beiden 'reinzupacken, und dann ab nach Rivendell zu Elrond! *g* Hmm, das mit der Ranger torture muss leider noch ein wenig warten. Ich finde immer, man sollte es so machen, dass der eine sich noch mehr oder weniger um den anderen kuemmern kann. Im Prinzip jedenfalls, als Idealtypus quasi... *schuettelt sich* Sorry, zu viel Max Weber gelesen... *g* Ja, das Zitat war ja auch aus PotC uebernommen, ich weiss leider nicht, wie es auch Deutsch hiess. Ich habe ihn nur auf Englisch gesehen, und das war auch gut so! *g*
Sadie Elfgirl - Yes, I think he should be excused too. I think I would have done the exact same thing - well, maybe not for a prissy wood-elf, but... *evil grin* It's very nice to hear that you agree with me though - that Aragorn is stupid - and thanks a lot for the review!
Forever Unstoppable - Ugh, that doesn't sound too good. Freezong rain is definitely NOT funny. No, not at all. It's warmer here now, though. About 3 °C, sorry, I don't know what's that in Fahrenheit. That's one of the things I'll never learn, I fear. I can cope with inches and yards and stuff, but not Fahrenheit. *shrugs* I'm weird. Don't worry though, they won't kill Aragorn. Wouldn't be fun, now would it? And I think that Legolas doesn't need a hug right now. He needs a healer! *g*
Jazmin3 Firewing - *blinks* Yes, he is slightly stupid. Must be the genes. *g* Don't shout at him though, or he might refuse to leave my closet ever again. Oh, and your cutlery drawer does that too? Have you ever tried to find the butter knife? It's bloody impossible! Uhm ... yes ... interesting ... I think I like number 6 best. Sounds rather painful and funny. I might remember that. *g* And I understand you hate him. I hate him too.
Sirithiliel - Uhm, I'm sorry? I'm rather confused now. You were talking about you doing which story? The one where Aragorn gets captured? Well, go and write it? I won't, I already have done one like that! *blinks* I'm _really_ confused now.
Zam - *blinks* Al-right. I won't ask. I really won't. *grins sheepishly and looks to the floor* Well, actually, Zam ... Teonvan _would_ love to be alone with him to do something like that. I have been dropping small hints ever since chapter 6. *g* Don't tell me, he's sick. But don't worry, this is PG-13 and will stay that way. LOL, the "Mighty Authoress Remote Control of Doom"? Well, that does sound interesting - can I have one? Please? *puppy-dog eyes* How in the name of Manwë did you get Aragorn's shoes? No, don't tell me - I don't want to know. I really don't want to know... *puts fingers into ears and wanders off*
Firniswin - Uhm, yes. I am evil and a madwoman. Thank you. *g* And your prayer didn't really work, I'm afraid. But then again, being impatient isn't necessarily a bad thing. I am impatient myself. *g* It's nice to hear that you liked the cliffy though! Personally, I loved it. I love all cliffies though, so that probably doesn't really count. Once again, sorry for keeping you waiting, and sorry for offending you, if I have. And you're sad for what, that people have another opinion? I for my part are very happy that there are people with different opinions. The worlds would be a dull and quite horrible place if everyone was of the same opinion. *g*
Tychen - Uhm, you're right, they only break their bones, that's all. *shrugs* It's a start, isn't it? *evil grin* You're right about the angst-ridden though - somehow I wasn't in a very good mood when I wrote chapter 17. Don't ask me why, it's simply not very cheerful. *g*
Calenore - Hmm, well, they're not exactly _taking_ him with them. Not as in invite him or anything, but... *trails off* Ah, just go and read it. And believe it or not, I don't like the torture per se. I like the H/C, but for that you need torture and/or injuries. *grimaces* You can't have everything, huh?
Alisha B - LOL, the Laws that Govern Fanfiction? I for my part think that the first one is Murphy's: Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. *g* Well, now that you write it like that, it sounds like a very stupid thing to do for Aragorn, but, essentially, it is exactly what our favourtie reckless ranger is going to do. *shakes head sadly* He's really not too bright, is he? No, of course not. Don't worry, Ráca will be fine. I am not going to kill her just like that, even though I think she'd find her way back to Mirkwood. LOL, I do know what you're talking about, I think Lassie is indeed an international show. The worst thing is that Lassie was in fact a male! I'd never have thought it! And, you know, YOUR Monday isn't exactly Monday here. See, you can't really compare it, since it has a whole different name and all - does Montag sound like Monday to you? Noooo... *trails off* Okay, you're right. I am late. But all I said was that I'd try to update on Sunday, I never promised I would. And yes, you have to add 6 to 9 hours, depending on where you are. Thanks for the nagging, for some unfathomable reason I thought it very nice! *g*
C. Hobbes - First: I love your screen name! I LOVE Calvin and Hobbes - if that's why you chose it. I LOVE Calvin. He's perfectly evil and mean. *g* And you're _so_ right! My seminar is about the Thirty Years' War, and, trust me, I have given up on it a long time ago. Apart from the fact that the reasons to start this war were simply _stupid_, I hate the religious part of it! It is so silly to fight about something like that! *sighs* People don't learn, do they... Stadholder - ha, I know what that is! I mean, I didn't know a week ago, but now I know! There were loads of them, Maurits van Oraanje, and Frederick Hendrik van Oraanje, and... *trails off* You don't really want to know, huh? Well, I don't want to know either. I guess I'll forget it again then. Anyway, thanks for the review!
CrazyLOTRfan - No Spanish? Poor you - well, they didn't offer that either at my school. I had to choose between French and Greek - I took Greek and lived happily ever after... *g* Your teacher is from Switzerland? *grins widely* Well, then let's just say that it's not German you're learning, you're learning Swiss German, or at least with a Swiss accent, unless your teacher is really good. I can't understand it either, when I was there for three months it took me almost two to even understand what people were trying to tell me. *g* Hmm, you might be close. I'm not saying anything. I am evil, I know. *evil grin* Yup, our snow's gone and it's quite warm here. Lucky us. About the body cast - well, you ... well, you ... sort of ... Look, behind you! Morgoth! *turns and runs*
Nikara - No, it is indeed no surprise. It's no wonder Estel is as reckless as he is with Elladan and Elrohir as his examples... And I don't know about the Valar, lately I have come to the conclusion that they just might have a really weird sense of humour. Like me. *g*
Merryelf - *blushes* Thanks! I'm glad you liked Celylith and the twins. I'm sorry I couldn't make their scene any longer, but right now I am having trouble to get any of them to shut up in the first place, especially Legolas and Aragorn. They want the chapters for themselves, reckless creatures. *g* And don't we all love Estel? *huggles him* Well, I do.
Orlandofan13 - What, you mean that FF.net is not the real world? That's an interesting idea... *g* I don't like romances, at least not those on FF.net. Most are so bad that they make me laugh. Or cry. Or both. Well, I could never save these two from anything, because I would a. refuse to save someone as stupid and reckless as those two, and because b. I would never get myself into such a situation. And if I did, I wouldn't be pf much help. *g*
Strider's Girl - Oh, don't apologise for not reviewing! Life is very hectic, you don't have to tell me... Hmm, to be perfectly honest, I think that he got off lightly. It might have been elves, after all, and THEN he would have had to face King Thranduil. *shudders* That'd have been bad. And I think Legolas is not only stubborn, he is also proud. All elves are proud, and I think that's the one thing that will get them killed one day. Well, technically I know that it didn't, but still. *g* LOL, Aragorn keeps losing things, "daggers, friends, blood"? That's a rather ... interesting way of putting it... Hmm, about the reviewing thing: I promise you I'll try, but I honestly don't know when I'll have the time to do so. College is rather chaotic at the moment, I barely have time to write my own story and reply to the reviews which takes ages, believe me. I'll try, but I don't even have time to read anything on FF.net at the moment, not to mention to review. I admire you guys you manage to do all at once, I really do.
Halfling - *innocently* What, you didn't like the cliffy? Whyever not? I LOVE them - when I write them, that is. When I read them it's another thing entirely... *g* Uhm, I think they already ARE traumatised for life, too late to start worrying now. *g* And you're right of course, burns hurt horribly. All kinds of burns, so a lightsaber would be really bad, I guess. Poor Luke. *huggles him*
Just Jordy - *blinks* What did I say to 'shut you down'? I didn't mean to offend you! Did I offend you? You're not angry, are you? You didn't say anything stupid... *very confused now* But the cliffhangers will ... NEVER stop! We lovesss them, preciousss! Mhahahaha! *runs off cackling madly*
Galadhriel Vornionien - Well, even after reading your bio I have to admit that I'd be lying if I said I'd understand even a third of what you're saying. *g* I am, however, glad to hear that you like my stories - even though your husband is missing, sorry m'lady - and I will try to put more of your distant kin, the twins, into it. Now I am curious though: Just how are you related to the twins, Lady? Coincidentally I know a little bit about their background; since you're an elf, not a man, would you be of the House of Finwë or of the House of Elwë then? I'd guess Elwë, since most of the nobility of Mirkwood is Sindarin, after all, not Noldorin... *g*
Karone Evertree - Well, yes, interesting it an ... interesting way of putting it. *g* Rather accurate though! Sorry for not posting this sooner! *hangs head*
Elvendancer - Eeek, a virus? I hate those little buggers - they're evil, that's what they are... I really hope you manage to get rid of it soon, there's nothing as infuriating and annoying as an 'infected' computer. I will of course not tell your brother, don't worry! *g*
Mia - *g* More story, huh? Well, since you were asking so politely: Here's the next bit! I hope you'll enjoy it, thanks for the review!
Critternut - Well, I have to tell you something. I am a weird person, meaning that the more people tell me to do or not do something, the more I will do the exact opposite in the end. If loads of people tell me that I absolutely "MUST see that movie", it's a guarantee that I won't. So I have to tell you that I will under no circumstances do something to Legolas' leg, not even in the end. *g* You must have triggered a stupid, defiant reaction in me, sorry. I might put it into the next story though. *g* I thought you should know. I agree though, Teonvan IS sick. That's his job, he's a psychopath. And whoever said that being a king requires brains? I will gladly give a list longer than both your arms with kings and queens who were just plain stupid. Nah, it would be WAY longer than your arm... *g*
Suzi9 - Suzi! Yay! You're back! *huggles* I missed you! Really, I did! I'm glad to see that you got back from "up north", but I have to offer you my condolences. I have never lost a family member before, but it must be horrible. I'm also sorry that you didn't make it for the funeral. And of course the kilt thing is your fault! *snorts* Really, as if your cousin would have worn a kilt all the time until you bought him that pair of jeans. *blinks* He didn't, right? *g* And how in the name of God did you manage to get a concussion? *puts her to bed and takes some more blood for good measure* Honestly, I let you out of my sight for a few days and what do you do... *shakes head* Reckless Scot. I'm glad though you liked the evil dude. I love him myself, but I always like my villains. But he's not really aiming for democratising ME, sorry. More like conquering the better part of it... *evil grin* Don't worry though, there will be some Legolas-Thranduil-father-son-moments in the end. I think. *g* And I guess Ráca had another name, but since Aragorn didn't know it, he had to give her one himself. Horses - especially female horses - tend to react rather offended when called "horse" all the time. *g* Oh, and you should never invite me just like that. One of these days I might just stand on your doorstep with an insane smile... *smiles insanely* Like this. And yes, I AM mad, and I still don't manage to make any Adobe product work. That company hates me, I swear. I am sure you will pick wonderful pictures for THOM though. I am much looking forward to it! Thanks a lot for your huge review, and get better soon! *huggles*
Lembas7 - Well, yes, you're right, I guess. Aragorn IS stupid. And don't forget, he's no king yet. Right now he's a 23 year old boy, who is entitled to a bot stupidity. *g* Okay, not all THAT much, but still... I'm glad you're calm again though. *g* Thanks for the review!
Marbienl - You? A charming lady? *giggles* Don't make me laugh...*g* No, really, there are many words that come to my mind to describe you, but 'charming' isn't necessarily one of them... Well, that sentence was taken right out of PotC, so I guess it's alright it reminds you of Will Turner, who is, coincidentally, also incredibly stupid and reckless. *g* Don't you just love Finding Nemo? It's a great movie! You plan for Estel to enter the camp is nice, really, but I really don't think that the humans would buy it. I mean, they're in the middle of nowhere, how are the chances of running into a lost human? And how should he explain the dagger? They would never trust a ranger anyway. LOL, I know that you like Aragorn, don't worry. And there will be some owies for him, later. I promise. *g*
Carla - Uhm, ja, im allgemeinen haut das schon hin. *g* Was hast du auch von einem idiotischen, ruecksichtlosen Mann wie Aragorn anderes erwartet? Was, bist du etwa ein Mit-Orlando-Bloom-nicht-so-toll-Finder? Na, das ist doch was! *knuddelt* Ich finde ihn, ehrlich gesagt, einen ziemlich schlechten Schauspieler. Und besonders huebsch ist er auch nicht. *g* Meine Schwester hat auch nur eine Woche Schulferien, aber die Semesterferien sind 2 Monate, ca. von Mitte Februar bis Mitte April, und dann wieder Mitte Juli bis Mitte Oktober. *g* Studi muss man halt sein. Ich glaube, bei euch ist das ganz aehnlich wie hier.
Tapetum Lucidum - You couldn't be more right! It's indeed very hard to think of anything new to do to these two - or rather impossible! You need an evil mind and lots of boring lectures... *g* Hmm, do you really think they waited too long? I mean, a day is not so long for three young elf lords, is it? And I don't know how much help Aragorn will be, but he'll definitely give Legolas sympathy! *g*
Leggylover03 - Yes, I guess you could say that. He's rather strupid and reckless, isn't he? And your feeling just might prove to be right, about Celylith, I mean. *g* Might.
ManuKu - Manu! Na, das ist doch mal 'ne schoene Ueberraschung! Ich freue mich richtig, dich 'wiederzusehen'! Ich hatte schon richtig angefange, dich zu vermissen... Und du hast alles _ausgedruckt_? Wow, dann muss dein Drucker ja haerter im Nehmen sein als meiner... *g* Es tut mir natuerlich leid, dass ich Atemnot verursacht habe und dich vom Weintrinken ferngehalten habe. Lag nicht in meiner Absicht, das versichere ich dir... *g* Dass die die Kampfszene gefallen hat, freut mich natuerlich doppelt! Du hast dir natuerlich in der Tat einen unguenstigen Zeitpunkt zum Aufholen ausgesucht - sorry! Danke fuer deine tolle Review! *knuddel*
Alexa - Hmm, I guess he's stubborn. Stubborness will get you everywhere, in the end... *g* Don't worry, I would never kill "your baby", I wouldn't want to cause Aragorn such mental anguish. *evil grin* We do get some comfort for Legolas, but he's not really awake to enjoy it. Sorry. That's next chapter. *g*
Sabercrazy - No-one is buying it? Really? Too bad... And how do you know what I look like when I'm smiling? Huh? How?? I really think I have to scan a picture soon and send it to several people - no, I do NOT look the cave troll! *g* And I really don't think the cappuccino was to blame for your behaviour, mate. Try 'insanity' or 'mental instability' or something like that... *g* And I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait a bit for Aragorn torture AND Glorfindel torture. Sorry again, but it WILL be here, I promise. *g* Well, join the club. I don't like Teonvan either, and I CREATED him, so that really means something. And I like the headless rodent. *g* I really do.
Salara - Tja, man sehe und staune, es ist noch rechtzeitig angekommen! Und wie! Irgendwie hab' ich heute abend nicht gebacken bekommen... *seufzt* Ich bin ein Depp, sag's mir nicht... Uhm, war die kleine torture Szene wirklich so schlimm? Ich wollte dich nicht verschrecken, ehrlich! LOL, die "Weichei-Liga"? Na, keine Angst, da landest du schon nicht! Das verhindert schon das letzte Kapitel eurer Geschichte. *schuettelt Kopf* Ehrlich. Dieser arme dummer Elbenwaechter. Wie ich schon sagte, der durschnittliche Imladris-Elb besitzt die Intelligenz eines Toasts. *g* Tja, du nennst es Mut, andere wuerden es wohl Daemlichkeit nennen. Die Zwillinge z.B. *g* Und die Story wird wahrscheinlich wirjlich ca. 30 Kapitel lang. Ich weiss es noch nicht, koennte aber hinhauen. Und nein, das Leben ist nicht fair.

*shoots FF.net yet another suspicious look* It will screw it up again, huh? God, I HATE it... *walks off mumbling under her breath*