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.

18. Change of Course

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.

A/N:

Ah, yes, the dreaded question has been asked again: How long is this story going to be? As always, the answer is unfortunately less than precise: I don't know. *g* Sorry. Well, let's say I was planning to do about 30 chapters, and I still hope to reach that goal, plus/minus two. Nah, make that plus two, because there is absolutely NO way I am wrapping this up in 28 chapters. So: I _hope_ to end this in another 12 chapters, but, to be honest, I am not very optimistic right now. I tend to write too much about unimportant things so that in the end I have trouble getting to the really important developments and characters. I'll let you know in a few chapters if it should be much more than 30 - Jeez, I hope not. *g*

Another thing most people have asked at one point or other: Will Adruran (you know, the 'reasonable' guy from THOM) be back? The answer to that is rather simple: No, he won't. I mean, he would have be completely stupid or mad to go anywhere near his - obviously unstable - lord after having betrayed him only a few months prior! I don't know yet if anyone will find out that he's still alive, but he definitely won't make an appearance. *shakes head* I didn't save him last story so he could be massacred in this one.

And, last but not least, since I'm answering questions anyway right now: Will Elrond make an appearance? That question I can only answer with the most heart-felt I have not the slightest idea. *g* I really don't know, but if I had to answer it right now, I'd say No, probably not. Sorry about that, but it would kind of ruin the ending I am very carefully planning at the moment, so the answer is a uncertain No. Sorry about that, I know how much most of you want to see him, but we can't have everything. Should I write a sequel to the sequel to the sequel of the story (*broad grin*), it might take place in Rivendell though. That's something, right? *g*

Alright, here is the next chapter, namely chapter 18, in which we see who has thrown whom down where, some people surprise some other people (yes, I am trying not to give anything away! *g*), Aragorn and Legolas finally put two and two together and the twins, Celylith, our surprise character and Glorfindel get incredibly lucky. Perhaps the Valar don't hate them after all.

---

Chapter 18

Cendan fought the very tempting urge to start pacing.

It wasn't that anything prevented him from doing so – all his men knew better than to make comments about anything he said or did – nothing but his own pride, of course. He had not grown up among his mother's people, but he had always prided himself on his unflappable composure his eastern kin were known for, and now would not be the time to abandon an attitude he had been cultivating ever since he had been old enough to realise how easy it was to make people feel uncomfortable by merely looking at them expressionlessly.

The dark haired lieutenant ground his teeth, suddenly very glad that night had fallen some hours ago and that the darkness was obscuring his features. It wouldn't do to show the men how worried he really was. Worry – that was a feeling he wasn't well accustomed with. He wasn't worried very often – in fact, he was worried quite seldom. There were few people about whose fates he would be concerned in any way, and it would be pointless to worry for himself. He very rarely made mistakes, and everything else lay in the hands of the Gods; it was useless to struggle against a fate that had been determined for you a long time ago.

And yet he was – worrying. Cendan smiled inwardly, a smile that died quickly when he remembered why he was experiencing that particular emotion. To make it short, it was because of two things: Because of the fact that his captain was still not back, after several hours, and because Teonvan had unsuccessfully been trying to stifle an exceptionally large, smug grin the last time he had seen him.

Captain Reran knew how to look after himself, otherwise he would never have risen to the rank of Captain. To become a captain in their lord's army was something only the best and most ruthless and skilled men achieved, and no-one who couldn't protect himself would have managed to become even a lieutenant. Yes, the captain most definitely knew how to defend himself, he told himself firmly, and yet he should have been back long ago. Besides, if Teonvan was happy, it wasn't a good sign, under no circumstances, that was something he had found out quickly.

A few minutes later, Cendan turned around with a disgusted shake of his head and began to walk over to the main fire, his dark blue eyes automatically wandering over to the positions the guards should occupy – he had still not truly recovered from the shock of having that ranger walk into the camp without anyone noticing. True, it had been the plan to have the man come to them, but the guards should have suspected his presence if not detected it! His men were well-trained, and the fact that that ranger who was even younger than he had just walked into his camp at his own leisure did not sit well with him at all.

Well, in fact quite a few things didn't sit well with him at the moment, beginning with their mission in general, Teonvan's presence, the two prisoners, Teonvan's presence, Reran's continued absence, Teonvan's presence and about another hundred things in addition to that. He had never liked the man, not even before this mission, but now his dislike had turned into a loathing that ran so deep that it threatened to break through his carefully erected mental shields. He knew one of the younger guards who had been assigned to guard duty in the dungeons some months ago, and during an evening spent in a tavern in the lower city the other man had told him some details about Teonvan's way of treating his prisoners – details he hadn't really wanted to hear and that had caused him to stay away as far from the man as he could without giving the impression that he was afraid of him.

And he wasn't afraid of him, he truly was not. Teonvan preferred his "captives" helpless and weak, and he knew that he would lose a limb – or all of them – if he even thought about laying a hand on him. Still, he disliked him as fiercely as he had ever disliked a person, and he would have loved to be allowed to kill him. Well, maybe Captain Reran would allow him to do just that if Teonvan kept annoying him as he had this past day. He would make a careful suggestion along these lines as soon as the captain got back, he nodded to himself as he strode over to the fire. He knew that his superior would prefer to bring Teonvan in front of their lord and to have him thrown into the dungeons for his arbitrary acts, but he might be able to convince him to change his mind about that…

A moment later he reached the brightly burning fire and stopped next to it, his eyes coming to rest on one of the men who had stood to his feet once he had seen the lieutenant approach.
"When are the other scouts due to return?" he asked curtly, the emotionless façade once again firmly in place.

"Soon, sir," the man answered, his eyes unconsciously straying to the edges of the camp. Three other scouts had left about an hour after Captain Reran to make sure that they were indeed alone here. "They should be back any minute now and…"

"…will report that there's nothing to worry about," Teonvan's soft, somewhat oily voice interjected, and Cendan had to fight the urge to draw his knife. Oh, how much he despised this man! Teonvan stepped closer, an odd sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Reran's lieutenant. "You worry about the captain, Lieutenant? How very … unusual for you."

For a second, something wild and very dangerous flashed in the young man's eyes before he regained control over himself again, and the man standing next to his two superiors felt how an icy shudder raced down his spine. He wouldn't want to see the lieutenant look at him like that; not now, not ever. He had always known about Cendan's eastern blood, but never until now had he made the connection to the fierce, blood-thirsty warriors he had met in battle once or twice. Never until now.

"I do not … 'worry' about Captain Reran, Commander," Cendan said very softly, his eyes boring into Teonvan's. "The captain knows perfectly well how to look after himself."

"Oh, of course he does," Teonvan agreed slyly, the unreadable sparkle once again shining brightly in his eyes. "Yet you are concerned because he is not back yet."

"He is my captain," Cendan merely said, but shook his head after a moment. Loyalty was something a man like Teonvan would never be able to understand.

Before either of them could say more, a low murmuring sound ran through the camp, and Cendan looked up, feeling how his heart did something rather peculiar: It froze in sudden fear. The young man frowned as his eyes scanned the tree line, fixing on the small group of men that were coming closer, forming a rather odd shape he couldn't explain at once. Seldom had he feared something or someone other than his lord, and still he found that, suddenly, he was afraid of what the men who were coming closer seemed to carry.

Cendan slowly turned fully around, followed by Teonvan who wore an expression of surprise and mild reluctance.
"What is the meaning of this?" the commander demanded to know when the first man, one of the scouts that had been sent out earlier, reached the main fire. "What are you doing?"

The man looked from Teonvan to the young dark haired lieutenant next to him, strangely pale and looking as if the sky had just come down on his world, an expression that was similar to those of the other men. Cendan resisted the urge to close his eyes. He already knew what had happened, knew it with such certainty that it might just as well have been presented to him engraved in a large stone column.

"There … there…" the man stammered, obviously at a loss. He took a deep breath and tried again. "There must have been an accident, sirs."

Without another word he stepped aside, revealing what the two other members of his scouting mission were carrying on a litter that had obviously been hastily constructed, using two roughly hewn young trees and what looked like two of the men's cloaks. The third cloak was draped over what Cendan immediately identified as a body – a body wearing Captain Reran's boots.

"We don't know what happened, sirs," the man went on, his eyes unconsciously drawn to Lieutenant Cendan's face that was as pale and emotionless as a white marble statue. "We decided to have a look at the northern area as well, just to make sure, and the lad," he nodded at the younger of the two scouts, "spied him lying at the bottom of the ravine. There was not enough light to see any tracks, and we have probably destroyed what might have been there when we climbed down to get him up, but from what one can see he must have somehow lost his balance and fallen. Captain Reran … he's dead, sirs."

The words caused the low murmurs to rise in intensity, and soon the entire camp was buzzing like a beehive. After a few moments, the noise died down when Teonvan raised a hand, the mysterious sparkle appearing and then disappearing quicker than a mortal eye could follow.
"What do you mean, dead? Do you mean to say that the captain fell down a cliff and died?"

The addressed man answered something, but Cendan had lost all interest in what was happening around him. An unbelieving numbness spread inside of him, and he slowly stepped forward until he was standing next to the litter the two scouts had set down. He slowly crouched down and reached out to grab the edge of the cloak that was covering the captain's body. For a moment, he hesitated to lift the fabric, but then he did, slowly exposing the face and torso of his dead captain.

Most of the men gave the dead man's face only a cursory look, which was understandable since it was not a pretty sight. The rocks that had obviously been at the bottom of the ravine had not been too kind to Reran, and large and small scratches covered most of his face. What was visible of his clothing was torn and bloodied, but the scouts had been right: There appeared to be no mortal wound on the blonde man's body. No sign that anything but the fall had killed him was visible, no knife wound, no broken arrow, nothing.

Teonvan gave the body lying at his feet a quick look before averting his eyes and scanning the men, who appeared to be torn between disbelief and mild shock.
"The captain should not have strayed so far from the camp at night; it is a mistake he paid for with his life."

Cendan's muscles seemed to tense at the commander's words, but he made no move to rise and merely remained where he was, staring at Reran's pale, destroyed face.

Teonvan gave the young man a quick look but dismissed him as a threat when it became apparent that the other man did not intend to speak. He would prefer Cendan to work with him instead of against him, at least until they reached their home. Without the young lieutenant's co-operation it would be hard to control the men; he would hate to have to get rid of the boy too. Inwardly, he grinned. He would do it though, without a second's hesitation. If he proved to be as stubborn as Reran, he would have to be disposed of. He couldn't risk anyone telling their lord about his little misconduct earlier as Reran had threatened to, could he?

He turned back to the first scout.
"You are sure it was an accident?"

Inwardly, he was grinning like a maniac. Of course it appeared like an accident; he and his lieutenants had made sure of that. Reran had known he had been about to die and had put up quite a fierce fight, but he had been outnumbered three to one. He had enjoyed it quite a lot to watch Caellan break his neck in the end.

The other man nodded slowly, his eyes filled with worry and a little fear. He and all of the men knew what this meant: The command would fall to Teonvan. He winced inwardly. They would all be lucky if they made it back home in one piece.
"As far as we can tell: Yes, sir."

Teonvan suppressed a large smile and gave the assembled men a sharp nod.
"Very well then. The burial will take place tomorrow morning, before we leave; we don't have the means to take the captain's body all the way back home, even in this weather. I hereby officially assume command until our lord can appoint another captain. For the rest of this mission, I am the captain. Understood?"

The men nodded their heads and mumbled affirmatives, most of them with a pained wince they tried to hide as best as they could. Teonvan didn't pay them any attention; they would not challenge him, for that they had neither the intelligence nor the courage. He took a step closer to Cendan who was still kneeling on the ground, staring at Reran's scratched, lifeless face as if his life depended on it.

"Have I made myself clear?" he asked, watching the dark haired man closely for any signs that he might challenge his authority. "Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

For long moments, Teonvan thought the younger man had either not heard him or was ignoring him, but then the dark haired lieutenant reached out and slowly pulled back the cloak until it once again covered the dead man's face, a gesture of odd finality. The young man remained where he was for another moment, his eyes still fixed on his captain's body, before he stood to his feet in a fluid motion, his face expressionless and devoid of all emotion.

"Yes," he said softly, dark blue eyes fixing on Teonvan's face with the intensity of a predator that had just caught sight of its prey. "Yes, I understand … Captain."

Then he turned on his heel and left the fireplace without another word.

++++++++++

This was turning into some kind of routine, Legolas thought darkly as he was once again pulled off his horse's back, both to his and the animal's profound relief.

He scowled inwardly as he was pulled to his feet and pushed into the direction of one of the smaller tent, just like every evening. Even though his elven healing abilities had enabled him to heal from a substantial part of his injuries, he was still weak and far from healed. Even though he hadn't told Aragorn about it, he still had trouble drawing breath from time to time, and the healing cuts hurt considerably.

He knew that his friend had needed to stitch some of them and especially the stab wound, but that didn't make them any less painful. For the better part of this day he had firmly believed that a colony of fire ants was busy building their new home in his chest, which was entirely ridiculous of course, he was perfectly aware of that now. It were termites, not fire ants. They were apparently of a particularly sneaky, invisible and thoroughly evil kind, but he was sure they were there.

With a quick shake of his head he returned to the present as he was rather roughly shoved forward, around the large fireplace that was in the process of being put up. The elf didn't even bother to turn around and scowl at the guard who had so impolitely pushed him, knowing full well that it would avail him nothing but perhaps a blow to the face. Unconsciously, his eyes wandered over the men bustling around the camp, searching for Reran's calm face, only to remember a second later that the man was dead.

Legolas snorted inwardly. Dead – murdered more likely. He and Aragorn had only needed to trade one look when they had heard about Reran's death two days ago to know that they both thought the same: If Reran had really fallen off that cliff, Sauron was in reality a kind and misunderstood person.

The fair haired elf was pulled to a stop in front of what he had come to call "their" tent, and he ducked his head and quickly stepped into the small space before the man could push him again. He'd had his share of being pushed around these past few days – besides, the termites probably wouldn't like it.

He had just sat down heavily and leant against the main tent pole with a small weary sigh when the front flap was thrown to the side and Aragorn was thrown in, accompanied by an annoyed growl one of the guards must have ground out. Legolas gritted his teeth as he reached out with his bound hands to help his friend sit up, noticing with displeasure that another pair of bruises marred the man's already rather bruised face. When he had last seen Aragorn about noon, those two marks hadn't been there, he thought angrily.

"Good evening," he smiled slightly, gripping the ranger's left arm to pull him upright. "You are making new friends, I see?"

"Oh yes," Aragorn nodded, raising his tied hands to carefully touch his bruised jaw. "I think I am getting through to them. That one hesitated for about half a second before hitting me, I'm sure about it."

"Real progress," Legolas nodded back. "As long as you don't start annoying them again, you just might succeed in getting us out of here."

"You're right," the man agreed and slowly began to move over to the bags the guard had dropped next to the entrance. "Somehow these people seem to be quite short-tempered."

He grabbed the bags containing his rapidly depleting supply of healing herbs and bandages and turned back around, only to come face to face with a very stern, worried elven face. Legolas had regained much of his colour and the cuts and bruises were all but healed, but he was still too pale and looked anything but healthy.

"I wish you would stop it, Estel," the elf said softly, reaching out with his hands to gently touch his friend's multicoloured jaw. "As much as I might appreciate your sense of humour, you must cease your foolish attempts to draw attention to yourself."

"I?" Aragorn asked incredulously. "I must cease my attempts to draw attention to myself? If I remember correctly, my friend, and I am rather sure I do, by the way, it was you who insulted Teonvan this morning."

Legolas shrugged lightly, quickly hiding a wince when the termites in his chest renewed their attempts to burrow a thousand tiny holes into his breast. Rather irritable animals, weren't they?
"I wasn't insulting him. I voiced a well-founded fact, that's all."

"Right," his human friend snorted darkly, beginning to sift through the contents of the bag as quickly as his bound hands permitted him. "You can count yourself lucky he didn't repeat his little 'games' from earlier! You called him a dim-witted, sick, pitiable excuse for one of the Second People!" Aragorn looked up, eyes filled with barely controlled anger and worry now. "In front of most of the men, too!"

"So I did," Legolas replied emotionlessly. "And I was right to say it."

Aragorn rolled his eyes in annoyance and returned his attention to his bag, therefore missing the worried sparkle in the elf's eyes. Legolas watched the young man as he piled up the healing utensils next to him, mumbling under his breath about proud, irritating elves. He was no fool, and he didn't enjoy being hit either. He hadn't told Teonvan what he had told him just for spite or to satisfy his own pride, he had told him out of the exact same reason he had chastised his friend for only a few moments ago: To draw attention to himself, or rather draw attention away from Aragorn.

Legolas shook his head. That reckless human had never known when to remain silent, and it appeared that that was something that had not changed. That wasn't the reason though why he had told the brown haired commander the first thing he had been able to come up with – and it had been a rather lame insult, he was aware of that. Had he had a little more time, he would have been able to think of something much more elegant.

No, the real reason was that Teonvan seemed to have developed an … interest in the young ranger, for a lack of better word. Legolas refused to think about what that might implicate, but fact was that the dark, dangerous sparkle that was visible every time the human commander looked at him could now also be seen when he looked at Aragorn, and that was a situation he wouldn't tolerate. He was a lot safer in this camp than his human friend, and if he had to insult Teonvan every time he saw him to make sure that the man's attention was fixed on him and not on the young man, so be it.

He blinked twice when Aragorn started to speak again, grey eyes worried and dark in his bruised face.
"I know what you are trying to do, mellon nín," he told the elf softly as he took the last rolled-up bandage out of the bag. "I am no fool. You are trying to protect me. I thank you, but don't, please. I can look after myself."

"Under any other circumstances I would agree with you, Strider," Legolas sighed, "But this time I think you're wrong. Neither you nor I will be able to look after ourselves in the foreseeable future. And I promised your father to look after you before he left. I have failed him too many times in past. I won't fail him again."

"Remember that when ada is strangling me when I see him again," Aragorn advised darkly and began to push his friend's shirt to the side, trying to ignore the elf's protests. A second later he looked up again, mild annoyance on his face. "Stop this! I have to change the bandages, or do you want the wounds to fester and…"

"No," Legolas answered quickly, a small smile on his lips. "You would never let me forget it, would you?"

"Most assuredly not," Aragorn nodded with a rather smug expression on his face. "I would also tell your father about your reckless behaviour that could have cost you your life. Not to mention Celylith, Hithrawyn…"

"Alright! Alright!" the elven prince said with a small smile. "Do what you must."

"Of course," Aragorn nodded again, the smug expression being replaced by an evil grin. "Lasseg."

"Strider!" the elf rolled his eyes, "We agreed you would not let anyone know that that is not my real name!"

"We did," Aragorn grinned broadly, "No-one will find out about it from me, I promise you. But I never said anything about what I would do when we were alone, did I?"

"You are sounding like one of your brothers," Legolas shook his head, concentrating on breathing deeply and evenly as his friend began to unravel the bandages that wound around his torso. "For an elf that would be perturbing – for a man it is positively terrifying."

"I'll let them know about that as soon as we see them again," the man grinned, but a worried expression soon began to spread over his face when he saw the pain on Legolas' features the elf couldn't hide in time. "Tell me … tell me what you know about Rhûn," he finally added, trying to find a subject that would take his friend's thoughts off the pain he was so obviously in.

Legolas smiled slightly through gritted teeth, knowing what the ranger was intending but not protesting against it.
"No-one knows much about the eastern regions of Rhûn, and it appears that they are to be our destination."

"Let's assume that they're taking us somewhere close to the Sea," Aragorn replied, his eyes not leaving the healing cuts he had exposed. They were looking much better already, but were still raw, red and looked immensely painful. "Tell me what you know about the Sea of Rhûn."

"It's … it's, well, it's a great lake, essentially," the elf ground out, ignoring the ranger's worried look. "The Celduin empties itself into it. The lands surrounding it are wild and dangerous, populated with an equally wild and dangerous people. The Easterlings are fierce warriors and not to be trifled with."

"I know," Aragorn nodded. "They invaded Wilderland and even Gondor many times in the past."

"Aye, they did," Legolas agreed. "Yet little is known about their homeland. I have never been there and have only ever seen maps in my father's library. Not one of ada's warriors who are still here on Arda have been there in the past three thousand years, as far as I know." The elf fell silent for a moment, trying not to concentrate on the pain that was pulsing through his body, and added after a second, "Oh, and the lands of Dorwinion are said to be on the north-western shores of the Sea of Rhûn. The best wines come from there."

"That is something that would occur only to a wood-elf," Aragorn grumbled good-naturedly.

"One has to set one's priorities," Legolas smiled painfully. "You Noldor are a rather dreary bunch."

"You have probably never been in Rivendell over Winter Solstice, have you?" Aragorn retorted while he carefully spread ointment over the healing cuts. "Wait till you've seen Erestor and Glorfindel drunk before saying something like that."

"I would like to be there this year," Legolas said wistfully. "Rivendell is beautiful in the spring." He grimaced darkly. "I doubt it somehow though."

The young man forced the sudden pang of homesickness the elf's words caused to the back of his mind and forced himself to nod.
"Yes, it is indeed beautiful. We will be there, my friend, trust me. We will get out of here."

"You misunderstand me," the elf shook his head wearily. "Even if we get out of here, my father will kill me or throw me into the dungeons at the very least. I won't be going anywhere in the near future, and least of all to Imladris."

"We'll see," Aragorn merely shrugged. "But I think we should be trying to escape before these people have dragged us all the way to the Sea of Rhûn. Do you have any idea, any at all, who their lord is and where they are going? You have been here far longer than I have."

Legolas shook his head again, noticing with some relief that Aragorn was finished with his chest and was re-bandaging it now. At least there seemed to be no termites, he told himself wryly, unless they were invisible of course. Yes, he thought as the pain suddenly spiked when the first bit of linen touched his skin. They were invisible and very, very, angry right now.
"No, I have not. Some of the things the men said indicate that their home is somewhere to the South-West of the Sea."

"That fits," Aragorn nodded as he wrapped a long strip of linen around the elf's torso. "We're still following the river, but we're keeping more and more to the South. If we keep this going at this pace and in this direction, we shall soon reach the western shores of the Sea of Rhûn."

"But there's nothing there, nothing of importance anyway," Legolas protested weakly. "According to our information there's nothing but small settlements, mountains and forests there."

"Mountains. Wonderful," Aragorn mumbled under his breath. "That's exactly what I need now." He paused a moment while he was putting most of the bandages and herbs back into the bag. "How new is that information of yours?"

"Not old," Legolas attempted to shrug and stopped in mid-motion, remembering the now apparently slumbering termites just in time. "About … 150 years?"

The dark haired man blinked twice, eyes wide and unbelieving.
"150 years are a long time for Men, my friend."

The elven prince grimaced, allowing his friend to tip his head to the side to inspect the fading cuts on his cheek. He had just come to that conclusion as well.
"Well, some things appear to have changed."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Aragorn smiled slightly. "Someone seems to have built a realm there."

"More than that," the elf said grimly. "If Teonvan and the others are any indication at all, that someone seems to have built an army as well. A good one."

Aragorn felt how his heart clenched in fury and even a little fear when he heard the human commander's name. He had never met an individual he had so thoroughly loathed after spending such short an amount of time in his company – except maybe Donyc, the leader of the men who had captured him last autumn. The young man suppressed a shudder. He did not want to think of Donyc now.

He hadn't realised he had fallen silent and had begun to stare into space before Legolas' hands touched his shoulder lightly in a reassuring gesture.
"He is not Donyc, Estel. This is not Eskadol. Your brothers and father are safe."

The dark haired ranger raised his head and looked his friend in the eye, a grateful and at the same time amused sparkle in his eyes. Just how did Legolas always know what he was thinking? Sometimes it was really scaring him.
"I hope so," he answered softly. "I hope they are safe, my friend."

Before Legolas could say more, he hurriedly changed the topic, having decided that he had no desire to speak of this any further. He dropped his eyes to the bag in his lap and began to rummage through its depths, looking for a small tin containing a salve that would soothe the bruised skin of his friend's face.

"Doesn't it make you wonder, by the way?"

"What, Estel?"

"That Teonvan has behaved so reservedly," the man answered, carefully applying the healing salve to the healing wounds. "After Reran's 'accident' I had thought he would … well, I don't know what I expected, apart from dying that very same evening."

"He is no fool," Legolas said darkly, hissing softly when the slightly stinging ointment came into contact with his skin. "He knows that he will be doomed if he doesn't bring me home to their lord, and he needs you to make sure that I do arrive there alive. Besides, I do not think that the men would tolerate such a behaviour, especially after Reran's death."

"Still, he is a desperate man," Aragorn grimaced, carefully tipping the elf's head to the side and eyeing his handiwork. "And we mustn't forget that desperate men are the most dangerous."

"Indeed," the elven prince agreed and finally wrenched his face out of the man's grasp. There were limits as to how far he was willing to put up with his friend's mothering attitude, after all. "But, right now I think Teonvan is too busy consolidating his position to be able to indulge in his … 'games'. The men know as well what will happen if they return to their mysterious lord empty-handed; they will not allow them to seriously harm us."

Inwardly, Legolas was not so certain about that fact. Teonvan was no normal person who could be expected to act sensibly; he was a madman who had very likely murdered his direct superior. Right now the man was still feeding on the memories of what he had done to him four days ago, one could see it in his eyes. Legolas shuddered, both because of the dark memories that washed over him and the realisation that, some day soon, that would no longer be enough for the brown haired commander.

He looked at his human friend, vowing inwardly not to let Teonvan lay a single finger on him. He had found out first-hand what the man was capable of; there was no way he would allow that sick excuse for a human being to have his 'fun' with Aragorn.

"Are you finished?" he asked quickly, eager to interrupt the silence that had fallen between them. Not waiting for the young ranger to answer, he slowly and carefully shifted away from the pole and pulled a rather startled Aragorn forward, pressing him against the wooden pole with a smug smile. "Now let me see to you."

"I am perfectly alright!" the man protested rather indignantly and equally predictably. "A few bruises, nothing more. Besides, you are in no condition to treat me even if I were hurt, which I am not. Don't try to deny it, you are still having trouble breathing. You need rest."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. How in Eru's name did Aragorn do that? It had to be one of these things you learned when you were instructed in the healing arts, he finally concluded. Lord Elrond and Hithrawyn were just the same, only a little bit more subtle most of the time.

"Me having trouble breathing or not is not the point here, mellon nín," he told the man sternly. "What matters is that you are not 'perfectly alright'. You are not the only one who is gifted with some power of observation. Your arm pains you."

"Arm?" Aragorn asked innocently, successfully looking anywhere but at the mentioned appendage. "Which one? I have two, you know."

For a moment, Legolas wondered if it was possible to strangle a person with your hands bound in front of you, but before he could put it to the test, the canvas covering the tent's entrance was moved to the side and their two guards entered the small space, accompanied by a gush of cold air that caused Aragorn to shudder slightly. It had stopped snowing some days ago, but the winds were still icy and the lands remained covered in white.

One thing he had to give these people, the young ranger thought for the umpteenth time, was that they were professionals. It was something that was very unfortunate, because it meant that every time they were together they were guarded by men with crossbows ready to fire. Just like now, he grimaced inwardly. One of the men held their "evening meal", namely water and two small rations of bread and dried meat, while the other remained at the entrance, his crossbow pointed unwaveringly at both of them.

Both the blonde elf and the ranger merely stared at the two men, both taking substantial satisfaction in the swiftly growing nervousness that could easily be seen on the men's features, and the man holding the food shifted his weight uneasily, stepping closer to them than he had to in his hurry to get out of this tent and as far away from these two as his orders permitted him. The man had just set the food down when his companion's hand grasped the back of the man's cloak and pulled him back, nearly causing him to fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

"Are you mad?" he hissed at his staggering companion. "You know the orders! No-one's to get too close to the two of them! They are dangerous!"

The other man merely raised his hands in annoyance.
"Alright! Calm down, there was no harm done! It won't happen again!"

The second guard growled in annoyance and gave the two prisoners a dark look, regretting it instantly when a pair of burning glares threatened to propel him backwards. He shoved his friend out of the door, shaking his head.
"See to it that it doesn't happen again! The new captain wouldn't be happy if these two managed to escape! Besides, don't you remember what happened to Captain Adruran's men? They underestimated the Elves, and look where it got the lot of them!"

The other man mumbled something, and a second later both the men were gone and had reassumed their posts next to the tent's entrance, their shadows that were cast by the torches that lit the camp visible against the light-coloured canvas.

Legolas blinked as he slowly looked at his human friend, the healing utensils he had snatched out of the man's grasp a few moments ago forgotten. That was what he had been trying to remember the whole time; the similarities between this group of people and the one they had met on the slopes of Erebor were simply too many and too striking to be just a coincidence…

Aragorn merely looked back at the fair haired elf, silver eyes shocked and impossible large for his face.
"Oh dear."

Legolas pressed his lips together until they were no more than a thin, bloodless line and swallowed hard.
"Oh dear is right."

++++++++++

 
Once again, Celylith was beginning to doubt his own sanity. In fact, he was sure that what sanity he'd had at the beginning of this little journey had leaked out through his ears by now.

He shot the twins a dark look, noting to his substantial satisfaction that Lord Glorfindel was doing the same. The golden haired elf lord had shown amazing patience until now, a patience he was sure one could only acquire when one had been born in the First Age or before that. He, however, had most assuredly not been born in the First Age of this world but rather in the Third, and was finding it hard to refrain from strangling one or both of Lord Elrond's sons. The Lord of Rivendell would probably not be too amused by that, but the momentary gratification he would gain from such an act would definitely be worth it.

The silver haired elf shook his head, marvelling at his own restraint. Elladan and Elrohir together were hard enough to bear at the best of times, but when they were worried they were positively intolerable. And, right now, they were not only worried; they were irritable, nervous, testy and extremely sarcastic. A combination that had made these past four days the longest of his entire life, and that included the two days Legolas and he had involuntarily spent in an orc camp after having … underestimated their numbers slightly. Back then he had been unconscious for quite a long amount of time, after all. Now, however, they had stopped only to let their horses rest. It was a course of action the twins had suggested, and it had been the only thing Celylith had agreed on with the brothers for the past few days. The sooner they found a trace of Aragorn or Legolas and his captors, the sooner he would be rid of the two of them.

The twins, however, were not even the worst of it. The very, very worst thing that had happened when they had been about to leave the palace had been Rashwe. The elf sighed inwardly. He should have known, shouldn't he? When they had reached the stables to make their horses ready the large white horse must have sensed what they were about to do, for it immediately began to rear up, neigh and generally make such a racket that they had been sure that the guards would be upon them any second now. Celylith had tried everything to calm down the animal, but in the end he had only been able to pacify it by agreeing to take it as a mount on this journey.

He truly did not know how Rashwe had known that they were going to try and find his master, and if he was honest he didn't really want to know either. Sad fact was that he wasn't only stuck with Elladan and Elrohir, he was also stuck with a horse that hated him and especially the twins. He was sure he had seen it eye them maliciously, and Elrohir had already complained several times that Rashwe had tried to bite him, something all of them had believed in an instant.

Wonderful, Celylith sighed again, this time openly. He wasn't going to make it through this journey with his sanity intact, he just knew it…

In front of him, Elladan frowned at their snow-covered surroundings, his expression so dark that it was a miracle the snow hadn't turned a black colour yet. Night had already fallen, but they were still pressing on, relying on the moon and stars to light their way for them.
"Are you sure your father said south-east?" he asked for about the one hundred and seventh time, turning around to face the silver haired elf.

Celylith took a deep breath and told himself for the umpteenth time to remain calm. It wouldn't make a good impression on Lord Glorfindel if he killed his lord's son and heir.
"Yes, Elladan."

"And he is sure Estel was interested in why no-one was going south-east?"

"Yes, Elladan."

"And he left eight days ago?"

"Yes, Elladan."

"And…"

"Stop it, Elladan!" Glorfindel's voice interrupted the older twin. "He answered these questions days ago! I never thought anyone could be more annoying than Erestor during his adventurous time of the yén or your father after a long council session, but I am beginning to see that I was incorrect."

Elladan had the good grace to look at least a bit ashamed and bowed his head.
"I was only…"

"…making sure," Glorfindel wearily finished the younger elf's sentence. "Yes, you have told us before. About a hundred times."

"A hundred and seven, my lord," Celylith injected sourly. "I have counted."

"So I see," Glorfindel smiled amusedly. He was actually rather impressed with the silver haired elf's control. When he had been his age, he would have killed the twins a long time ago.

Elladan grimaced darkly and scowled at the slightly younger elf.
"I am so glad you are amused by all this!" he growled. "Just in case you hadn't noticed: We have found nothing! We have been riding for four days into the direction you told us to take, by the way, and we haven't found a trace of them! It is easy for you to see this dispassionately! You might not be very much concerned about finding the two of them, but this is my little brother we are talking about!"

Celylith's face turned white as the snow around them, and only Glorfindel's restraining hand on his arm stopped him from doing something he might have regretted later.

"Oh," he hissed at the twin who was just realising what he had said in his fit of fury, "Is that so? Do you really think I sneaked out of the palace, broke every rule there is and disobeyed my father and my king because I had nothing better to do? Do you? Aragorn is my friend, yes, and I would have done this for him alone, but we are also talking about Legolas, about my prince, about my friend who is dear to me like a brother! Don't you dare imply that I would remain at home and do nothing while he is in danger! Don't you dare question my loyalty to my prince! Don't you dare…"

"Celylith," Elrohir interrupted the seething elf, "He didn't mean it like that. He's merely frustrated and did not think before opening his mouth, as always. Right, brother?"

He glared darkly at his twin who nodded after a second, grey eyes fixed beseechingly on Celylith's outraged face.
"Yes," Elladan assured the silver haired elf hastily. "Forgive me, my friend, I did not mean to insult you. I spoke in anger and did not contemplate the consequences of my words. I am sorry."

Celylith exhaled loudly, trying to get his feelings under control. He shouldn't have reacted so strongly, he knew that Elladan hadn't meant what he had said. The older twin was known for having a quick temper, and he should not have lost control so quickly.
"It's alright," he inclined his head slightly. "We are all in need of rest and our nerves are frayed. I should not have reacted as I did."

Elrohir smiled slightly as his brother and friend were shooting each other apologetic glances. They were really rather predictable at times, weren't they? Perhaps Estel was right and they were getting old. He quickly shook his head, abolishing that ridiculous idea. Elladan and he would turn 2824 years later this year after all, and Celylith wasn't so much younger than they. They were far from old.

"Well," the younger twin finally said to break the uneasy silence that had fallen, "I am hungry. Who else wants something to eat?"

"You are worse than a hobbit," Glorfindel informed his former pupil and shook his head. "One of these days I will have to return home to your father dragging your body behind because you were too busy eating to defend yourself."

Celylith grinned evilly.
"I couldn't agree more, my lord."

"What a surprise," Elladan said playfully, enjoying the light heartedness of the moment.

The journey had a rather strained one, for they were only travelling into a direction Estel might have taken. Their main source of information was Celylith, who had spent the day before their departure questioning his father, several other advisors and about half the guard corps as inconspicuously as possible. In the end the silver haired elf had come to the conclusion that Aragorn had been interested in the possibility of the men travelling south-east instead of east into the direction of the Long Lake. Elladan shrugged inwardly. It was as good a place to start as any.

Elladan forcefully shook off the dark mood that was once again trying to sneak up on him. No matter what happened or how long it took, they would find Estel. And then they would kill him. Slowly. Painfully. Permanently. Very pleased with his thoughts, he turned back to Glorfindel and Celylith, giving both of them a wicked look, something that caused the fair haired elves to hide a concerned expression.

"I even think he is beginning to look somewhat like a hobbit," he told his companions, ignoring Elrohir's threatening look. "I think his hair is beginning to curl."

Celylith cocked his head to the side, studying the younger twin's dark tresses intensely.
"I think you are right, mellon nín. I am sure that one strand is looking positively … frizzy."

"Frizzy?" Elrohir echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "What do you mean, frizzy?"

"By the Valar, I think you are right, my dear friend!" Elladan exclaimed, once again ignoring his twin. He turned to Glorfindel, who had managed to remain stern-faced until now. "What say you, my Lord Glorfindel? Frizzy or just curly?"

Glorfindel looked up from where he had been studying the snow-covered path they were following through the sparsely forested lands. They had left Mirkwood far behind and were following the River Running downstream, and fewer and fewer trees were covering the ground.

"I say," he began slowly, "that you two are the most annoying beings I have ever met in my long life. Back in the First Age young ones were a lot more…"

"…respectful and well-behaved," the twins finished the blonde elf's sentence simultaneously. "Yes," Elrohir added, "You already told us."

"I did?" the golden haired elf raised an equally golden eyebrow, the perfect picture of surprised innocence.

"Yes," Elladan assured him. "You tell us about a thousand times a yén, I think. Besides," he added sourly, looking pointedly at the elf lord's innocent face, "that look does not look convincing."

"I agree," Elrohir nodded slightly. "You look about as innocent as an elfling with his hand in a cookie jar. What do you think, Celylith?"

"I think," the silver haired elf answered absent-mindedly, not looking up from where he was scanning their surroundings, "that we have a trail."

If the silver haired elf's three companions had been hit by a bolt of lightning, the reaction would not have been extremer. As one they sat up on their horses, bright eyes fixing on the wood-elf who looked up, his fair face aglow with hope and relief.

"Over there," Celylith elaborated, coaxing Rashwe to the side and gesturing at a small copse of trees to their right, visible in the darkness due to their elven eyesight. "Someone or something was in there, something rather big, judging from the broken branches. It's hard to say from this distance, but I'd say it was a horse."

The three Imladris elves narrowed their eyes into the direction of the trees and turned back around after a moment, the same hopeful expression on their faces. Even on Glorfindel's usually so composed face a small smile could be seen, and the golden haired elf inclined his head slightly to the younger Silvan elf.

"Well done, young one," he said, the smile widening as he watched red colour creep up Celylith's face at the praise. "It appears that the reputation of King Thranduil's warriors is indeed merited."

Celylith merely nodded as he tried to combat the blood that rushed to his head and threatened to turn his face the colour of a beetroot. He never blushed, he had in fact not blushed for the past few centuries, but only one praise from Lord Glorfindel, who, admittedly, was his childhood hero, had slain a balrog and had survived the destruction of the High King Turgon's city, turned his face the colour of bricks.

The four elves spurred on their horses, quickly making their way over to the trees, and Elrohir grinned at his brother, perfectly aware of the awe and admiration the silver haired elf harboured for their father's friend and advisor.
"Well done indeed, Celylith," the younger twin said cheerfully.

"Admirable work," Elladan chimed in. "A wood-elf's eyes are truly as keen as a hawk's."

"Nothing escapes a Silvan elf's sharp eyes," Elrohir nodded, watching with satisfaction how Celylith pressed his lips together in annoyance.

"Will you please stop it!" Celylith snapped testily, but before he could say more or the twins could continue teasing him, the four of them reached the trees.

In a matter of seconds all of them had dismounted, Celylith having to keep Rashwe away from Elrohir's horse. The white animal had obviously decided that the younger elf's horse didn't deserve any mercy either if it consented to carrying the elf, and was apparently intent on biting it, perhaps in the belief that it would be easier to eventually kill Elrohir if he was deprived of his horse.

They quickly found that Celylith had been right: There had been a horse in here, and judging by the hairs that could still be found on some of the branches – thanks to the fact that the snow storm had abated and the weather had been rather nice and calm these past days – it had been a black horse. Now that they knew where to look, it wasn't hard to follow the signs that had been left in the small, densely packed wood, and after Glorfindel and Elrohir had made sure that they were indeed alone here, each of them lit a thick, dry torch, lighting their way so that they wouldn't miss even the smallest trail.

"Someone came in here and dragged the horse out," Elladan commented thoughtfully as they slowly followed the barely visible signs that had almost faded already, "And it was not happy about it, it appears."

"Neither would you be if you were an elven horse and some strange men came and made you go somewhere you didn't want to go," Glorfindel said darkly, crouching down next to a small, leafless bush, his feet leaving no trace on the thick snow cover.

"See?" he asked the younger elves who had stepped closer, their torches raised high and casting a flickering, unsteady light over the scene. He pointed at an imprint next to the bush which had clearly been left by a horseshoe, the edges still sharp and plain to see. "It was an elven horse, you can see it by the way it is shod. And if the strangers had been elves which we can only assume for the sake of argument anyway, there wouldn't have been so many broken twigs. Dwarves would hardly have been interested in a horse, and orcs would have killed it were it was in the first place and eaten it without bothering to drag it somewhere."

They were already moving along the trail when Elrohir quietly asked what all of them were thinking.
"Estel took an elven horse, did he not?"

"Aye," Celylith nodded darkly. "Aye, he did."

All of them stopped as if held back by an invisible hand when they reached the trail's end, a large clearing that was surrounded by trees on three sides. It had clearly been a campsite some days ago, that was obvious even to the most unobservant person since a large fireplace was still visible in its middle, only lightly covered with snow.

"If they took his horse, they most likely also took him. Aragorn knows better than to abandon his horse voluntarily," Glorfindel said as he slowly stepped forward. O the Valar, Elrond would kill him! That was what his lord would do, he would feed him to the next pack of wargs fortunate enough to come into the vicinity of Rivendell.

Elladan winced at his tutor's words and pressed his lips together.
"Look for any sign that might prove that Estel was here, or Legolas for that matter," he told the others firmly. "And for anything that might indicate where they were going. We were lucky with the trees, but if have continued on the road, we won't be able to follow them so easily. They could turn south into the direction of Dagorlad or west into the direction of he Brown Lands and we wouldn't notice it."

What followed was a very thorough search that uncovered precious little. That it was most probably the camp they were looking for had become clear soon, but proof of Aragorn's or Legolas' presence was not so forthcoming. Finally, after almost half an hour, an excited shout could be heard from Elladan who was kneeling next to the fire's remains.

"Here!" he said, grinning broadly at his brother and silver haired friend who swiftly came closer. He pointed at a small spot in front of him where he had brushed the snow to the side. "Do you see this?"

Elrohir dropped to one knee as soon as he reached his twin's side, narrowing his eyes at the half-burnt, small green plant that could be seen, lying crushed right next to the cold, scattered ashes.
"Athelas!" he breathed. "Men would not use it. No-one would have used it but…"

"Estel," Elladan nodded. "It must have been him. He was in this camp, and he was alive."

"So the men didn't kill him when they captured him, the Valar know why," Celylith added. "And I doubt he would have treated one of the humans, so Legolas is probably alive as well."

Elladan grinned as he grabbed his twin's forearm and pulled him to his feet, clapping Celylith on the back as soon as they were standing.
"This is the first good news I have heard in a long time!"

"And also the last, I fear," Glorfindel's frustrated voice sounded from behind them, and they turned to look at the golden haired elf lord who walked up to them from the direction of the path. "Their trail loses itself a little to the East. We are once again back to guessing."

The mirth instantaneously disappeared from the three young elves' faces, and Elladan cursed viciously in an ancient Quenya dialect Glorfindel had thought all but forgotten.

"Wonderful!" Elrohir exclaimed angrily. "What now?!"

"Now," Glorfindel said with a calmness he did not feel at all, "We will see if we have overlooked something. We may still find a clue."

"But we have looked everywhere!" Elladan protested. "We…"

"Might have overlooked something," Glorfindel stated again, blue eyes flashing and boring into the older twin's grey ones. "What do you wish to do, my lord? Run off blindly and hope to find your brother and the prince? Then, by all means, do so and leave. I have better things to do."

For long moments, Elladan stared angrily at the golden haired elf lord before his anger and frustration receded and made way for reason. Apart from the fact that Glorfindel was right he knew better than to make the blonde warrior angry. Glorfindel never called him or his brother "lord" unless at official gatherings or when he was truly furious with them.

With a curt nod into the elf lord's direction he took up his search again, closely followed by Elrohir and Celylith. For more than an hour they searched, but found nothing that might indicate which direction the humans might have taken. The torches had burnt down to less than ten inches, making it more than difficult and uncomfortable to hold them.

After another ten minutes Elrohir finally straightened up and stood to his feet, frustration rolling off him in waves. It was unbelievable, he ranted inwardly. How much worse could their luck still get? They had finally managed to find a trace of their little brother only to find that he had managed to get himself captured – again – and they had no idea where his captors might have taken him or Legolas.

The younger twin balled his fists and wandered over to the edge of the clearing, not really knowing what he was looking for. In fact, he wasn't really looking for a trace, he was looking for something to hit. In general, he was the more controlled and calmer of the two of them; usually it was Elladan who lost his temper or spoke before thinking. Now, however, Elrohir was experiencing the very vivid, very overpowering urge to strangle something or someone. He wasn't very often doing something like this, but now he walked up to a tree, quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure that Glorfindel wasn't watching him (the last thing he needed now was his Things-a-proper-elf-lord-never-does-speech), and gave the dark bark a heartfelt kick.

It wasn't a very nice thing to do to the tree, he was perfectly aware of that, but if he didn't do something to rid himself of his aggressions, he would do something far worse to the next person who addressed him, which would most probably be one of his companions. Elrohir frowned and walked over to the next tree and repeated his actions, not really caring if he looked stupid and childish. He wouldn't want to explain to his father that he had killed Elladan or Glorfindel in a fit of fury, or to Lord Celythramir that he had killed his son.

In front of the fifth tree Elrohir finally stopped, sensing the probing eyes of his companions bore into his back but feeling much better. He placed a hand against the tree's bark in an attempt to apologise for his rude behaviour and had just opened his mouth to say something along these lines, when his eyes came to rest on something that caused him to frown, after a moment to blink unbelievingly and then to grin widely.

"I've found something!" he called as he stepped to the side to be able to scrutinise his discovery more closely. A few seconds later, his brother and friends reached his side, and all of them stared at what Elrohir had found by accident: A small, roughly carved elven rune that clearly stood out against the tree's dark bark in the flickering torch light.

Elladan was the first to break the silence, arching a dark eyebrow in a manner very similar to his father.
"'R'?" he asked unbelievingly. "What is that supposed to mean, 'R'?"

Celylith shrugged. Why would Aragorn – for it must have been the young ranger – cut a single letter into a tree?
"'Right here'?" he suggested. "'Run faster'?"

Glorfindel shot the young elf a dark look, but Elrohir began to grin, apparently getting in the spirit of things.
"'Rotten luck'?" the twin asked with a small smile.

"If you two stopped this nonsense, I would be able to think," Elladan hissed at the two of them. "Estel wouldn't have carved this into a tree just for fun."

"So what does it mean?" Elrohir asked rhetorically. "How is 'R' going to help us find him? I mean, 'R' can mean about everyth…"

"Rómen," Glorfindel interrupted him suddenly, the Quenya word rolling softly off his tongue. "That's the letter's name, Rómen."

"Of course it is," Elladan said. "And Rómen means…"

"East," Celylith finished the dark haired elf's thought.

Half a second later two pairs of blue and two pairs of grey eyes looked at each other, the same realisation in their depths.
"Rhûn."

Elladan nodded slowly, instinctively knowing that that was what his human brother had been trying to tell them. He pushed the fear for Aragorn's safety to the back of his mind – but why had the young ranger only left this one rune? It would have taken only a couple of seconds to leave a few more. He swallowed quickly. Estel must have been out of time.

Elrond's oldest son nodded at the other three elves, trying to remain calm.
"Alright," he said slowly, "It's as good a place to start looking as any."

"I agree," Glorfindel said softly. "East it is."

The younger elves inclined their heads, and soon they were walking back the way they had come to get their horses, which they had left behind at the small copse of trees. At least that was what he hoped, Celylith thought despairingly. Rashwe would most likely already have killed the twins' horses – he was rather sure that he wouldn't dare even look at Lord Glorfindel's mount Asfaloth which was about as arrogant as Rashwe itself – and would be half-way back to Mirkwood if he knew that … demon at all…

He shook his head and quickened his pace to catch up with Elladan and Glorfindel, leaving Elrohir to walk a few paces behind him. The younger twin didn't seem to notice, for his thoughts were still on his brother's "message" and he was busy thanking the Valar for guiding him to the right tree. It had been an incredible stroke of luck that he had found the tree, he was aware of that.

When they reached the tree line, Elrohir stopped for a second, looking back over the camp his foster brother and Legolas had been in not too long ago. He slowly began to smile, his eyes straying back to the tree he had kicked only a few minutes ago.

"Rómen," he finally said quietly and shook his head incredulously before turning around and following the others. "Not bad, little brother. Not bad at all."

++++++++++

TBC...

++++++++++

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

++++++++++

Two Peredhil, a wood-elf, a reborn elf lord from Gondolin and an evil demon-horse to the rescue! Yay! *g* Well, now that I see it written out like that, it does seem a little bit pathetic... *evil grin* Well, we'll see about that, but first we'll see the next chapter, approximately Friday, in which we once again meet the evil overlord and Teonvan & Co. finally reach their destination! Yay again! As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, loved, cherished and generally worshipped. *g*

---

Additional A/N:

TrinityTheSheDevil - Well, he _had_ to find out sooner or later, hadn't he? Okay, now that I think about it, it would also have been rather funny if he hadn't and everybody had always been waiting for it and... *trails off* Ignore me, alright? And stop right there! You! Yes, you! You with the struggling, silver haired elf lord in your pocket! Don't you think I didn't see that! Put him back where you found him! Yes, his clothes too! *g* Hope your headache's gone! Migraines can be horrible...
Shauna - Well, I am very glad that you liked the last chapters! We aim to please... *g* *reads on* *blushes* *blushes even more* *blushes until she resembles a beetroot* Thank you for all the compliments. It's great you're enjoying this. I have to say though, that this won't be quite as straightforward. I mean, the twins are several days behind them, plus they don't even know where they're going! There's no way for them to catch up with the humans before they reach their destination. The 'rescue', if you want to call it that, will take some time yet... *g*
Lina - Lina! Glad to see you sneaking in once again! *g* There is something as sexy hair? Well - if you say so... *blinks* Whatever you say. I like the cream gun, btw. Dangerous things, them. Especially in the hands of insan... I mean, slightly unusual girls like you. *g* LOL, what? FATDOGGGIES? But ... but ... Reran is no great guy! I mean, yes, he is, but only _I_ think so, and I am insane. I mean, he's a bad guy, right? So, technically, I am allowed to kill him, right? Right? *Lina shakes her head from atop Éomer's horse* Yeah, I already thought so... *sigh*
Zam - I say again: I don't see the connection between Reran and FATDOGGIES. I really don't. But I do see that one boy's point, really. I would found something like ... yes, the FELAZ, the Foundation for the Extinction of Lina and Zam. I guess there would be quite a few (fictional) people who would support that one... *g* Hmm, what would I be willing to offer you for a Mighty Authoress Control of Doom™? What about Saruman's creepy throne from Orthanc? I like that one! *sighs at Celylith's stupidity* Of course you have blue eyes, dear, don't worry... And yours are much prettier than Cendan's, yes... *g* LOL, you like Cendan even more when he hits Aragorn? Well, you're right - you're beginning to become really, really weird... *g* And don't worry, Teonvan wouldn't rape Reran. He's too old. I know, that's not really comforting, is it? But is IS physically possible, and has been for thousands of years. Just take the Ancient Greeks, for example. Okay, okay, I'll stop. *g* LOL, I like the trapdoor, but it's not Beorn, sorry. *g*
Aratfeniel - Yeah, well, poor everyone about covers it, I think. *evil grin* It's their own fault, after all, they just had to behave stupid, hadn't they? *g* Well, maybe it wasn't really their fault, but... Okay, shutting up now. I'm babbling, sorry. *g*
Elenillor - Uhm, yes, it was one of my longer chapters. The longer ones are around 18/19 pages, which I hate. I try to keep them to 15 pages or so, but I almost always fail. *sighs sadly* Poor me. And I know what you mean, I exceed the word limit most of the time as well, something that is REALLY bad since most of our professors won't even look at your paper when it's not as long as they said it should. *sighs again* Poor me.
Firnsarnien - Nah, don't worry, no death/permanent injury/whatever. Celylith will remain alive and in possession of all his limbs - I think. *g* Well, I am rather glad that you don't like Reran, but he's really the better bad guy. I mean, whom would you prefer to be in charge, Teonvan or Reran? Reran is definitely the lesser evil... And the same goes for Cendan, definitely... To wish that the two were dead is rather short-sighted... *g* And you really like Anardir that much? To be perfectly honest, I think that Cendan is a much more interesting character, in almost every way. But then again, I'm weird. Very weird. *weird grin*
Galadhriel Vornionien - Oh, I pray thee, fair lady, do not say such things! Even though I do not hail from this fair Middle-earth and this language is foreign to me, I do understand the meaning of your words well enough. At least I think so. I read Shakespeare sometime in my English class though, and have read more on my own. That's something, right? But I will abandon all attempts to use that language, since I think that all you will achieve by trying to speak in a language or dialect you know little or nothing about is to embarass yourself. *g* And whoever said I was human? Don't worry, I am not one of the hundreds of elves running around here, but I am one of the "Authoresses". We are a dangerous and unpredictable race, be careful! *g* But you know that, don't you?
Bailey - I don't really know what you mean with 'Ranger Finally', but I can guess, and I can assure you that you're wrong. There won't be any 'Ranger Finally' in this or the next chapter. Sorry to burst your bubble. *evil grin* I'm glad to hear that you got your internet back though. Being cut off the 'net can be - stressful. *g*
Strider's Girl - Well, yes, I'll admit that it was a little cliffy. Not a big one, but one nonetheless. And about chapter 20: That was a careful estimate, just that you don't get too focussed on it, alright? And the 'men' aren't planning to dispose of Aragorn, it was Reran. Teonvan thinks differently, mainly because he's an idiot and doesn't want to take the chance of arriving at home with a dead prisoner. Lucky for the ranger, I guess. *g*
Silvertoekee - Oh, you want to give me a reward? That's great, what about a hundred thousand bags of Skittles? I LOVE Skittles! *has just run out of Skittles* Uhm, yes, whatever. *sheepish smile* And I agree: Aragorn IS getting awfully good at using the look. He practises a lot. after all... *g*
Mouse5 - Well, I am glad Glorfindel's stupid little act surprised some people; I was beginning to fear I were getting predictable. *g* No, Cendan is not a ranger in disguise, but it's great someone else than me likes him! I really think he's an interesting character, and the more I write about him, the more interesting he gets. *hugles Cendan* My villain, precioussss... And let's just say that Cendan will soon wish he had killed Teonvan when he had the chance. Everything else would have been far too easy, for everyone involved... *evil grin*
Miss Attitude - Well, yes, I try to involve such fun scenes, great you liked it. That's not really correct though, I don't plan to write these scenes, they write themselves, I swear they do! And the main genre is Action/adventure, so we can't have too much of the humour, can we? *shakes head* No.
Starlight - Hmm, dann war FF.net wohl einmal unschuldig. Ich muss dich jedoch enttaeuschen, Glorfindel und/oder den Zwillingen wird erst mal nichts passieren. Abgesehen davon hat Aragorn wahrscheinlich schon alle Woelfe umgebracht und die Ueberlebenden haben sich aus dem Staub gemacht, um nicht von irren Rangern und/oder Elben umgebracht zu werden. Das mit deinem Entzug wird noch ein wenig weitergehen muessen... *g* Ja, das mit der Schlucht war schon ein bisschen eindeutig, nech? 1. Regel des FF-Universums: Gibt es eine Schlucht, muss jemand 'runterfallen. Schoen, dass deine Geschenke zahlreich und zu gebrauchen waren!
Firniswin - Well, that wasn't exactly how you spell his name, but it was already rather close. Just a syllable too much. *g* And you have what? A crush on Reran? Oookay, that is slightly disturbing... But I like him too, he's an interesting character and most certainly nicer than Teonvan. Oh, and I think Firnsarnien has already founded a ALF. There's already an EELF, a GLF and about a thousand others... *g*
Carla - Tja, so bin ich einfach. Ich koennte ein total ernstes Kapitel nicht schreiben, selbst wenn mein Leben davon abhinge... *g* Na, wenigstens einer, der Cliffies mag! Ich liebe sie, natuerlich nur, wenn ich sie schreibe, wenn ich sie lese, ist das was ganz anderes... Und ja, ich habe andere Buecher gelesen, The Silmarillion, den Hobbit und ein paar von diesen Unfinished Tales. Habe leider noch nicht alles gelesen, aber ich mache mich dran... *g*
Tychen - I likes to do that. Eat people's reviews, I mean. It also eats chapters, formattings and countless other things. *g* Well, let's just say that Reran was a rather distracted cookie, poor him. LOL - Teonvan, the resident sadist! That's interesting, and true. Glorfindel and the others should indeed pick up the pace, but there's the small matter that they don't know where they're going, or where they should be going. *g* An escape plan would be great though, that's true.
Alilacia - So you've finally seen it? What do you think then? I didn't like it overly much. I mean, it was okay, but not _great_ as in _really_ great, if you know what I mean. Precisely. You're meant to like him, but Cendan is still a BAD guy! Never forget that, because I don't know yet if I will kill him or not. And it's really hard to come up with way to hurt people that haven't been done by hundreds of people. Being evil helps enormously though. *g* The snow is long gone here too. Pity. *g*
Miruvor - Your objection is duly noted. I agree with you though: Reran is evil, but Teonvan is much, much eviller. Don't worry about Cendan though, he's not dead yet. LOL, I love it! "Teonvan waltzed smugly back into the camp, relating with malicious joy that Reran had sadly fallen to his death" - it isn't even very far-fetched. It's of course not really like that, but... *g* I appreciate your shameless begging, of course, but ... well, things don't always go the way we want them to, right?
MorierBlackleaf - Well, yes, I like him to, but he's still one of the bad guys! It's not really that I have to let the bad guys live, do I? *shakes head* Nope, I don't even have to let the GOOD guys live! Mhahahahaha! *evil laugh*
Red Tigress - Well, there are many possible answers, but the right one is: Nope, he isn't, sorry. *g* LOL, great you liked the letter, which was indeed accurate if nothing else. Great you liked it, thanks for reviewing!
Sadie Elfgirl - Of course I am being mean! It's my job! Hmm, which bet was that again? But you're right, Aragorn will never let him live it down, and I'd put my money on the kitchen staff, I think. They're ... sneakier than the warriors, I think. *insert ironic voice here* You are very welcome, of course. I'm glad you liked the little cliffhanger. I knew it'd make you happy. *g*
Orlandofan13 - More than anything else, these chapters keep getting longer and longer, which is something that annoys me to no end. *g* Thanks for the compliments, even though I think that our style (with the possible exception of Thundera Tiger and very few others) would make Tolkien rotate in his grave. Very, very fast. *g*
TrustingFriendship - Yup, that's what a coup is all about. Sorry about that. And trust me, it's rather important that Teonvan does what he does, you'll see why in the end. I don't know if I can include the reaction, probably not. I had already planned such a scene (in fact, for last chapter), but decided against it in the end. I might put one in though. Maybe a letter or something - I'll have to think about it...
Narina Nightfall - OF COURSE I am allowed to create good characters only to kill them shortly afterwards. I created Galalith with the intention to kill him, there are some people who just have to die. I mean, why should only bad guys die? How realistic is that? *shakes head* Not very. I am sorry if I make you sad though. I hope I won't ruin your homework with this chapte then. And I don't do ghosts-spirits-supernatural-thingies, sorry again. I always think it's, well, unrealistic. I know, this whole universe is Fantasy, but Tolkien always used very 'real' magic, if you know what I mean. No ghosts or lightning-coming-out-of-someone's-fingertips. And I can proudly announce that, during a very boring computer sciences class, I had the opportunity to read the first chapter of your story, some days ago. I have to admit that I don't really remember much, but if I may give you one piece of advice? You should write out your numbers. I know, it's a stupid thing, but I for my part tend to stop reading a story when numbers such as 3 or 5 or something like that aren't written out. If you want to use numerals for larger numbers, fine, but at least 1-12 should be written out. Well, that's my great, wonderful advice, apart from that I only remember that it was very AU, which, well, is not one of my favourites. There were no elves at Helm's Deep - apart from Legolas - (Damn you, PJ!!) and the only group of people coming south was the Grey Company, and the only elves riding with them were the twins. I know that there are lots of people who love that genre, I just don't. *g* Hmm, how old is Aragorn in this story? Let's see, he's turning 24 in a few days I think. Or was it 23? I'll have to check. And don't touch the Remote Control of Doom. It's Zam's, and you know how she is... *shudders*
Nikara - *sighs* Everybody seems to look forward to Aragorn torture, which is really sad now that I think about it... *g* And I really think Celythramir and Thranduil should be complimented for their restraint. I would really kill the two of them. I would. *g*
Merryelf - Well, yes, Anardir is a very poor elf. He hasn't really done anything to deserve such treatment. I don't know why I do it either. I think I am evil. *g* It's great to hear that you've enjoyed the homour - it writes itself, I swear it does. It's rather frightening, really. *g*
Crystal-Rose15 - Well, technically speaking hiding doesn't equal cowering, does it? It's not necessarily proof in that case... *g* Uhm, which line do you mean? I couldn't see it, sorry. But yes, Aragorn is definitely an idiot. I would have done the exact same thing though, so that means I am an idiot too. *shrugs* So what else is new? So you have a balrog that can perch on your shoulder? That is disturbing, because that means that either your shoulder is extremely large or your balrog extremely small. *g* So, which one is it? Hmm, okay, let me see. "Pain" is naeg in Sindarin and naicalë in Quenya. The closest thing I could find for relief is 'freeing' (n.) in Sindarin, meaning leithian. Other than that, the only thing I can come up with in Quenya would be the gerund of lerya- (to set free, release), which is lerië. There are other forms though, and I'd be careful when using that last one. *g*
Gwyn - I agree. Glorfindel didn't really have a choice, did he. Doomed if you do - doomed if you don't. *g* That's him. Well, and I guess Cendan likes some people other than himself, or rather, is loyal to people other than himself. At least I think so. I'll have to ask him, I think. *g*
Deana - I think Aragorn would agree - the new name WAS rather funny. Legolas didn't seem to think so, though. I don't know why either - stupid wood-elf... *g*
Elvendancer - Well, that's great! It's always bad to make your siblings mad at you - some can react rather violently and unpredictably, too! *evil grin* I can vouch for that... Enjoy the laptop, and thanks a lot for the review!
Kikyo - Of course I lock them up in cages! They're vicious and rabid and wouldn't leave me alone until I'd write them, which would most probably ruin this story. So, it's better for everyone of they stay in the basement where they belong. *g* I don't envy Cendan either, though. Then again, it's his own fault since he's a bad guy.
Grumpy - *blinks* What was that? Aragorn and Legolas are together, and you honestly believe nothing bad will happen? Well, that would be a first, wouldn't it? *g* I don't think though that Thranduil meant to be funny, I think he's really stressed at the moment. Then again, who wouldn't be? I most certainly would. *g*
Miaow Artsy - Aha! A lurker! Nice to meet you! *shakes hand* It is very nice to hear that you're enjoying my insane little creations, and I do indeed love to plot. What gave it away? *g* Hmm, I wasn't entirely serious about the surprise character. I mean, I think it's a character, but some people might not agree. *shrugs* We'll see. Well, and technically the "Things-a-proper-elf-lord-never-does-speech" is Glorfindel's. Everybody keeps borrowing it though. *g* Even though I didn't get a cake, I thank you very much for your review!
Iverson - Okay, then I won't ask you. Whatever you say. *g* And there are some homourous scenes in here, so don't worry. I could never write an entirely serious chapter. I tried once and had to rewrite the whole thing since it turned into slapstick. *shudders* It was horrible. Oh, and the genre is, as always, Action/Adventure/Angst. I wouldn't write Drama - too little humour in that, I fear... *g* And you can never say that you love the story often enough! Feel free to sayit as many times as you wish! *g* And thanks for noting the 'growth' - sometimes, when I am reading the first chapters of AEFAE, I can't stop cringing. Literally.
Sirithiliel - Well, thank you! Hope the update's soon enough, thanks for reviewing!
CrazyLOTRfan - I don't like rap songs overly much to begin with, so I can imagine what you have to go through. My heartfelt sympathies. *g* LOL, so YOU put the note there? I should have known - it would have to be either you or Zam, and since Zam is busy with her Mighty Authoress Remote Control of Doom™ (don't ask!) at the moment.... *g* Hmm, why must I kill off the cool characters? Because I am evil and am not allowed to kill Legolas or Aragorn? *thinks* Yes, that must be it. I may mention Elrond's reaction. Perhaps I'll send a messenger who might have a flashback - hey that would actually work! *starts plotting*
Fewer Brain Cells Than a Garden Hose - May I first compliment you on your sn? It's really great, and I have to say that there are awfully intelligent garden hoses. Some of them can be downright terrifyingly clever... *shudders at distant memory* But I have to admit that I like cliffies, at least a little bit, and only when I don't have to read them. Writing them is lots of fun! The RLF would be too late now - you should have thought of that a little sooner.... *evil cackle* Thanks for the review though. I love reviews, which you probably already know. *g*
Cosmic Castaway - Don't worry, there's no need to get out the avenging-spirit-costume. I will keep this up, I am far too insane not to. *insane grin* I hope you didn't hurt yourself floating into that wall!
Forever Unstoppable - Well, the whole medical details were kindly explained to me by a friend of mine. She was very patient and kind. *g* Great you liked the Aragorn-Legolas scenes, thanks a lot for reviewing!
Lynette - LOL, yes then I have to update quicker of course! *g* I hope I didn't try your patience too much though. But I like Reran, I really do. I also like Cendan - I always think the villains are far more interesting than the good guys. *sighs* I need help, I know.
Someone Reading - Uhm ... sorry? I hope you didn't fall off your chair, haven't completey chewed off your nails and are generally still alive? The Quenya sentence was good, really! The grammar was a little ... off, but other than that very good!
Dha-Gal - 104 author alerts? Really? That's a lot! *takes Skittles with a bow* Thank you! I missed you - and the Skittles, of course... You can't wait to see what happens to Teonvan? Well, to be honest, not much, at least not for a long time. Sorry. *g*
Marbienl - LOL, of course that fish has a trauma! I liked him and the little French crab or whatever it was. *g* I really don't want to insult you or your German abilities, but what do you mean? You are good in other numbers? But I know what you mean, I can understand quite a lot of Dutch when I see it - but I could never write or speak a single word... *shakes head in shame* Uhm ... no? No? Do you really think Thranduil would pay for an ordinary warrior? No, he doesn't want a slave - what would someone like him want with a slave? The rest is simply disgusting! Sometimes I am really afraid of you! Great to hear that you still like Frór. I bet he is very helpful. And no, Teonvan isn't planning any such thing. He's too afraid of his lord to even consider it, and too jealous to give anyone else the chance to deliver Legolas to their lord. And nope, the surprise character isn't Beorn, or a troll, or a dwarf. Sorry! *g*
Karone Evertree - Thank you! You are not the only one who hates Teonvan though - I think there's a Teonvan-Hate-Club out there somewhere... *g* Great you still like it, and thanks for the review!
Salara - Argh! Ich habe gerade gesehen, dass ihr geupdatet habt! Wie KOENNT ihr nur! Ihr braucht sonst immer drei Jahre und drei Tage, und ploetzlich geht es ruck-zuck? Ich konnte nicht reviewen! Seid ihr jetzt wieder auf jeden Freitag, oder was? Wenn dem naemlich so ist, waere eine kleine Warnung nett, damit man sich drauf vorbereiten kann! Also wirklich... *grummel* Ich hoffe jedoch, deinem PC geht's besser. Meiner hatte auch kleine Virenprobleme fuer 'ne Weile. Ich sehe aber, dass du mich schon erschreckend gut kennst, was was-wuerde-Nili-tun-oder-nicht-tun angeht. Erschreckend. *g* LOL, du hast was? Gegrinst wie ein Honigkuchenpferd nach der Lackierung? Na, das ist doch mal 'ne nette Vorstellung... *grinst* Wie immer vielen Dank fuer die lange Review! *knuddel*
A Very Stressed Suzi - *g* Poor You. It appears, however, that at least your head is better if you're up to sprinting into random chapters. Very good. But Scots have hard heads, or so they say... *g* LOL, yes, it's a new blood type, NÚ-negative. There is no NÚ-pos. of course, because of their bad luck. *g* I made you cry? Really? I didn't think that so sad - or sad at all - but if it made you cry it was worth it. *evil grin* Hmm, good question about Legolas' blood. I'd imagine it would either have melted or have been covered by new snow or something like that. Plus - on the icky side - I don't think that wild animals such as foxes and the like would say no to a little bit of blood you can lick up in the winter, hm? Don't let work and essays get you down! *huggles* Thanks for the cookies!
Critternut - *g* Yeah, it is my story - more or less, anyway. Sometimes I think that I'm not really the one calling the shots here... *shrugs* That elf and the ranger keep interfering with the plot. Damn them. *g* You can hug Legolas all you want, as long as you do it _gently_. He's not really well at the moment, I think... *evil grin* Nope, not really...

Once again, a heartfelt Thank-You to all my reviewers! If I'd anything more original to say I'd be happy, but I haven't, unfortunately. Too bad. *g*