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.

29. Come Like Shadows

Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter 1.

A/N:

Don't tell me, I know I'm late. I don't really have a good excuse either, except for the fact that I really didn't have the time to update. (Obviously. Duh.) I'm really busy at the moment with that horrible paper that just refuses to be written - most likely because the topic doesn't interest me in the slightest, I think - and I just couldn't find the time to edit this chapter. I honestly can't tell you how I managed with THOM, I think it has something to do with the fact that the chapters were a lot shorter. I hope you forgive me, and I promise to try and post the last counts on her fingers three chapters on time.

And before you ask, FF.net's new little tool of doom, QuickEdit or whatever it name may be, has given me TONS of trouble and has, among other things, decided it doesn't like my little stars and removes them every time I try to upload something. I hope they fix that, because I really really like them. Yes, I'm weird, but I just hate it when FF.net does that. Every time you think you've finally managed to come up with a formatting you like, it goes and destroys everything. grrr I hate it, I really do.

That being said, I have to say that I'm glad you liked the Glorfindel torture scene, small as it was. I have to admit that Glamir didn't really like it so much, he was rather ... disappointed the last time I saw him. shakes head He's NOT a happy camper right now. I'm also happy to see that Cendan is so popular. I'm quite attached to him, but then again, I'm quite attached to all of my OCs. Yes, even to Girion and Glamir. g

Alright, here's another rather quiet chapter, which could also be named "The Calm Before the Storm II". It will also be the last, don't worry, things will be getting interesting really soon. g So, what do we have ... one of the twins wakes up, Legolas is not very amused about several things, Glorfindel comes to a realisation about the wood-elves in general, and we have multiple cases of rather serious elf angst. g Fun, eh?

Have fun and review, please!

---

Chapter 29

Several times Aragorn would almost have returned to full awareness, but it never seemed to be fully worth the trouble. Deep down he knew that Legolas and his brothers were safe, so there really was no reason for him to leave this peaceful, restful state behind and to return to reality.

In the end, he more or less drifted out of sleep, prompted by something he couldn't really identify. A few moments later, when his mind had cleared sufficiently, he realised that it had been the light that fell on his face that had caused him to wake up. The warmth was most definitely welcome, but the brightness was beginning to make sleep impossible.

Another few moments later he frowned slightly as he came to the conclusion that he should feel a lot colder than he actually did. His memory was still slightly hazy as it always was when he woke up from drug-induced sleep or one that had been preceded by extreme exhaustion, but he thought he remembered clearly enough that he had been wearing only his breeches and a light shirt when he had come here. The chair he was resting in had been quite a long way away from the small fireplace, it was February, and by all means he should more or less resemble an icicle by now.

He moved slightly in his armchair, astonished more than surprised that he hadn't frozen to the piece of furniture, and something soft and warm that was spread over his body moved with him. A blanket, he realised a moment later with a small smile. Well, that explained quite a lot, didn't it?

Aragorn enjoyed the warmth and the feeling of lazy contentment for a few more seconds before he slowly opened his eyes and began to move into a more or less sitting position. His neck and back informed him about how very foolish it had been to spend more than twelve hours in an armchair – something he already knew – and a stab of pain shot down his spine. He ignored it with the long practice he had acquired by now for pains and hurts like these and blinked, trying to get his surroundings into focus.

It took him a while to adjust his eyes to the bright morning sunlight that streamed through the window into the small room, but as soon as they did the fond smile on his lips began to grow. The first thing he noticed was that both of the twins were still sound asleep, something that filled him with contentment and mild worry. He knew close to everything about the limits and extents of elven recuperating powers, and at least Elrohir should have woken up by now. He cocked his head slightly to the side, studying his two brothers. It appeared that neither of the two had moved at all during the night.

That thought confused him slightly, and he slowly turned his head to the left, already suspecting what he would see. Just as he had thought, an armchair had been dragged up next to him, and in it sat a sleeping person who was most likely responsible for his relatively warm state and the absence of small ice crystals all over his body. The smile on his face grew even more as he reached out and carefully tugged the blanket Legolas had wrapped around himself back over the elf's body. It appeared that Legolas had woken up sometime in the night and had followed him here – undoubtedly cursing under his breath the entire time. It didn't surprise him in the slightest, of course, and if he was perfectly honest with himself he would most likely even have been worried had Legolas not been here when he awoke.

He was still mulling over whether or not he should get up and get himself something to eat (he was feeling famished all of the sudden, something that was probably a good sign) or if he should stay here and watch his brothers and friend a while longer, when the curled up elf next to him shifted slightly and opened one eyelid, using a slightly bleary silver-blue eye to give him a disapproving look.
"One of these days, dúnadan, I will put a leash on you. I swear I will."

"My father used to say the same thing," Aragorn nodded seriously. "When I became old enough to use blades and other sharp objects, he reconsidered and began talking about a cowbell."

"That just might work," Legolas nodded earnestly and began to push himself up into what was probably meant to be sitting position. "It would have to be a rather large one, though."

"Ada came to the same conclusion," the young man told him cheerily. "He finally gave up, content in the knowledge that he merely had to follow blood, chaos and mayhem to find me or the twins."

"I always knew there was a reason why Lord Elrond is counted among the Wise," Legolas said seriously and gave the young ranger next to him a wry look. "So, did you sleep well?"

"I did, thank you, my friend," Aragorn nodded. "Thank you for the blanket."

"I did it for your sake as much as for mine," Legolas shrugged with mock nonchalance. "I would not want to return to your father bearing the news that I had allowed you to freeze to an armchair and that he would have to wait for your arrival until spring thaw had set in." He sat up a bit straighter and brushed a few strands of hair that had escaped their braids out of his eyes. "But the next time I would be very thankful for a note, or, if you do not have time or the utensils to write, a drawing or a map of some sort."

"Why, were you worried?" Aragorn asked slyly, being perfectly able to imagine the short spell of panic Legolas had most likely felt upon seeing his empty bed.

"About you, human?" Legolas asked back haughtily and with all the disbelief he could muster so shortly after having woken. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ha!" Aragorn exclaimed, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment and resolutely avoiding thinking about anything but their bantering. "So you were worried! You can just admit it, you know."

"I was most certainly not, ranger," Legolas snorted, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I was many things when I woke up and found you gone, among them annoyed, irritated and happy that you wouldn't bother me with that infernal snoring of yours any longer, but 'worried' was not something that would have described my mental state."

"Snoring?" Aragorn asked back, apparently greatly offended. "Who was snoring?! I do not snore!"

"Oh yes, you do."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

"I do no…"

"Excuse me," a soft voice to their right interrupted their bickering. "Some people are trying to sleep here."

For a moment both the elf and the dark haired ranger stared at each other suspiciously, as if wondering if the other had spoken the words, but then a shared realisation began to spread over their faces and they whirled to the right, an action that was accompanied in both cases with quickly hidden winces.

"Elrohir!" Aragorn exclaimed softly. "Brother, you have no idea how good it is to see you awake! I was beginning to get worried – even if Legolas did not, mind you. He doesn't worry, after all."

"I do worry," Legolas shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, the woollen blanket he had grabbed before he had left his room in search of his missing human friend still wrapped tightly around his body. "I simply do not worry about that human your father took in out of reasons I cannot even begin to comprehend." A smile spread over the fair haired elf's face and he would have reached out to grab the younger twin's hand if it hadn't been so firmly encased in Aragorn's fingers. "Good morning, mellon nín. You and that brother of yours gave us quite a scare."

"Look who's talking," Elrohir remarked softly and squinted into the sunlight, his eyes wandering from Aragorn to Legolas and back to his younger brother again. "You two scared more people than Elladan and I could ever hope to."

The mention of his older brother redirected his thoughts to the whereabouts of his twin, and without thinking Elrohir began to sit up, ignoring both the complaints his body began to screech at him at the movement and the dark, disapproving expressions on his human brother's and his friend's face.

"Elladan?" he asked worriedly, grey eyes beginning to sweep over the part of the room he could survey. "He is here, isn't he? Where is he? There was a potion, some sort of poison that they used on him; the girl said it could be deadly! Is he alright, where…"

"Hush," Aragorn tried to soothe the agitated elf and placed one hand on his chest, both to calm him down and to press him back onto the mattress. "He is well, don't worry."

He had to apply only the tiniest bit of pressure to urge his brother to lie down again, something that caused him to frown inwardly in concern. It was usually nigh impossible to stop one twin from mindlessly worrying about the other, and the only person who had ever managed to do so without drugging them was their father and, from what he'd heard, the twins' mother before she had sailed. To see Elrohir comply so easily was nearly enough to cause him to start panicking as well.

Knowing full well that the younger twin wouldn't calm down until he had seen that Elladan was safe and well, he gently reached out and turned his bandaged head to the right, taking great care not to exert any pressure or to touch any bruises.
"See?" he asked softly, watching how Elrohir's body relaxed once he caught sight of his unconscious twin who was lying in the bed next to him. "Elladan will be just fine. Trust me, muindor nín. He will recover, and so will you."

"I do trust you," Elrohir finally said softly as he rather unwillingly wrenched his eyes away from his twin brother's motionless body. "It is just that your idea of the meaning of the term 'fine' differs hugely from anyone else's."

"Hear, hear," Legolas' wry voice commented to Aragorn's left, and the man turned briefly to shoot the elf a dark glare before turning back to his adopted brother.

"I will not even honour that with an answer, brother," he told him with a small smile, his eyes wandering over the elf's pale face. "How do you feel, Elrohir?" he continued in a more serious tone of voice. "Are you in pain? How many fingers am I holding up?"

He raised four fingers and watched with both amusement and worry how Elrohir squinted and glared at his fingers as if they were a pack of attacking orcs. A few seconds passed, and a look of resigned acceptance flittered over the younger twin's face.
"Since when do you have nine fingers per hand, Estel?"

"That settles it, then," Legolas remarked wryly into Aragorn's direction, who merely nodded and frowned at his elven brother.

"Indeed," the ranger echoed the elven prince's sentiments. "How is the headache?"

"What headache?" Elrohir asked innocently and leaned back, his words being belied almost instantly as pain flashed over his face when his bound skull touched the pillow.

"I see," Aragorn commented dryly. "Well, let me summarise your symptoms: Strong headache, inability to focus, sensitivity to bright light, nausea … did I miss anything?"

"Has no one ever taught you to respect your elders, young one?" Elrohir grumbled irritated, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. His brain seemed to have swollen to twice its normal size, and was right about now apparently trying to force its way out of his skull via his ears and eye sockets.

"I don't think so," Aragorn retorted good-naturedly, beginning to sift through the assorted medicines on the small nightstand. It appeared that Thesieni had had a specific system in mind when she had put her healing utensils here; every healer he knew had a specific system. The only problem was that he had no idea what Thesieni's was. "You never tried, for instance."

"We did, we merely despaired of you and gave up when you were four years old," Elrohir retorted. A serious expression once again began to spread over his face, and he turned to Legolas who looked back at him with a small smile on his lips. "Could you please tell me what is going on here, my friend? I feel as if I know only the refrain of a song, but as if the main parts are constantly changing and slipping out of my grasp. I would very much like to hear what has happened to you two before my dear brother sends me back to sleep with one of these horrible medicines whose recipes I begged father not to share with him."

Legolas ignored Aragorn's mock-outraged mumbling and nodded at the younger twin.
"Certainly, Elrohir. Why don't you tell us what has happened to you, and I'll answer whatever questions you might have after that."

Elrohir narrowed his eyes, his befuddled mind telling him faintly that that wasn't really what he had been proposing, but in the end he relented with a tiny nod.
"Alright," he consented softly, finding that speaking too loudly increased his headache even more. "It all began with a totally unprovoked attack on Elladan and me by your much beloved friend; Celylith is his name I believe. We were journeying peacefully through the woods of your home, had spied a fire and were going to investigate just in case someone needed our help, when he attacked us most knavishly from behind…"

Elrohir went on in this particular manner that reminded both Legolas and Aragorn distinctly of Glorfindel when he was telling another story of one of his heroic deeds or another, and after nearly twenty minutes he had told them what had happened to the two of them, Glorfindel and Celylith since they had left Mirkwood ten days ago. Seeing the way Elrohir's eyelids were once again beginning to drop, Legolas told him hurriedly the most important things the twin needed to know, and a few minutes later a heavy silence fell between the three of them.

"So he wants Dale and Lake-town," the younger twin finally said in a soft voice. "He is mad, isn't he?"

"Quite so," Legolas nodded seriously.

"Well, that is not much of a surprise," Elrohir retorted, obviously struggling to keep his eyes open. "I've had that suspicion for some time now." He turned his head slowly to the side and looked at Aragorn who was sitting on the edge of his armchair, an empty goblet whose contents he had persuaded the dark haired elf to swallow still in his hands. Elrohir slowly and carefully lifted a hand and touched his younger brother's upper arm, feeling the bandage that wound around the biceps. "This man … Teonvan, he did this?"

A small shadow flickered over the man's face and he found a sudden interest in the cup in his hands. He shrugged eloquently and began fiddling with the goblet.
"Yes," he finally admitted softly.

The tiredness on the younger twin's face was pushed back for a few moments, and a dangerous, dark glint flickered to life in his eyes.
"I think he and I will have to have a little talk. A very … serious talk."

"Of course," Legolas nodded soothingly, inwardly vowing just the same thing. He would do his best to have a little talk with Teonvan as well. "But now you have to rest, my friend."

"No," the other elf shook his head minutely and winced when pain stabbed through his temples. "What … what are we going to do now?"

"We are going to do nothing," Aragorn stressed and pulled the blankets that covered his brother's body up to the elf's chin. "You are going to rest and will let us worry about Celylith and Glorfindel."

"Estel," was all the elf said, but the look on his face was one that looked so much like Elrond's that Aragorn smiled slightly.

"Alright," the young man nodded. "You remember the lieutenant Legolas told you about, the half-Easterling? He agreed to help us; his motives aren't important right now. Tomorrow at noon we will try and free Celylith, Glorfindel and the girl who helped you escape."

Elrohir's mind might be tired and overcome with pain, but he was not so far gone that he didn't understand what his adopted brother was implying.
"What is happening tomorrow at noon?"

Legolas and Aragorn traded a quick look, and the fair haired elf finally inclined his head.
"They are planning to execute Glorfindel."

"Execute Glorfindel," Elrohir echoed emotionlessly. "I see."

"We won't let it happen," Aragorn shook his head firmly. "Just imagine what ada would say! No, there is no way I will allow them to kill him and make me go through that." He gave the elf a long look. "And now you should sleep, brother. You need rest."

The elven twin's eyes were beginning to close despite his obvious struggles to keep them open, but he still wasn't prepared to give up so easily.
"But … how … there are too many guards, you would never … get close without…"

Tired, pain-filled grey eyes finally closed, and Legolas gave his elven friend a small smile before he looked over at Aragorn, a mildly amused twinkle in his eyes. He gave the already half-asleep elf in front of him a look of mock seriousness.
"Don't worry, Elrohir, everything will be alright. I," he added with a flourish, "have a plan."

The fair haired elf's words reached Elrohir's ears through the thick haze that was beginning to envelop him, and it took him quite a long time to understand their meaning. When he finally did, a small shiver of amusement mixed with dread raced through him, but not even that was enough to dispel the dark mists that were beginning to pull him under. With a small sigh he surrendered to them, inwardly shaking his head.

'Legolas has a plan. The Valar help us.'

The cell door was closed with a creaking, shrill noise, and only after the footsteps of the guards had faded into the distance Celylith allowed his disinterested, contemptuous mask to drop. He leaned back against the stone wall behind him and took a few shallow breaths, trying to will his legs not to give out from under him, something which they were most willing to do at the moment. The darkness had begun to close in on him these past few hours, and he was feeling as if a huge weight had been placed atop his chest. He had never been fond of being underground, a dislike that had only increased over the years, and every time he thought he had managed to get his fears under control, he would hear the stones shift above his head and his control was torn asunder once more.

After a few seconds, when he was certain that he wouldn't pass out (it truly had been a stupid idea to get up when he had heard the guards draw closer), he pushed himself off the wall and moved over to the motionless figure the men had thrown into the room a few moments ago. He had lost count how many times it had happened to the both of them, and right now he wasn't very inclined to try and remember either. He would have tried to catch his companion, but somehow he had been unable to convince his body to move fast enough.

After only two or three stumbling steps he reached the still body and dropped down to his knees, wincing openly when the impact jarred his injuries. He rather awkwardly reached out with his left hand and, after some failed tries, managed to turn the other over onto his back, doing his best not to wince when he saw the amount of his injuries.

He sighed tiredly and wondered for a brief moment just what Hithrawyn would do if he ever got his hands on them. Or better yet, what Lord Elrond would do if he ever got his hands on them. He shuddered inwardly. There was no way he would go anywhere near Rivendell for the next few decades, absolutely no way. The East of Middle-earth had never appeared as appealing as now in his eyes, even if this part of it left a lot to be desired in terms of hospitality – or sanity, now that he thought about it.

With an effort, the silver haired elf forced himself to return to the present, his eyes desperately trying to pierce the gloom that lay heavily over the small room. He had never been exceedingly skilled at controlling the intensity of the light his body emitted, but he was beginning to suspect that, right now, it wouldn't have mattered either if he had been. His body was so weakened and exhausted that his light was almost non-existent.

Inwardly muttering a curse that wished a plague on the heads of all the men in this castle, he leaned a bit closer, using his uninjured hand to feel for any broken bones. He didn't have to search for long, and the small moan the unconscious elf in front of him emitted confirmed his suspicions. Celylith gritted his teeth as he sat back a little. What was that now, the fifth or sixth broken rib?

Abandoning that train of thought as unimportant, he was about to lean forward again, only to very nearly collapse onto the unconscious elf's body as a sudden bout of nausea washed over him. It took him quite some time to convince himself that his head wouldn't explode and that his insides weren't trying to twist themselves into numerous knots, and when he had finally managed to do so, a small groan prompted him to open his eyes again.

He ignored his protesting body and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the face of the other elf that was lying in front of him.
"My lord?" he asked softly. "My Lord Glorfindel?"

For a few moments, the golden haired elf did not move, and only when Celylith carefully reached out with a hand and brushed some strands of hair away from his face did the elf lord stir slightly. A second later, one of his eyes opened slowly, quickly followed by the other. He blinked a couple of times, obviously trying to focus on the face that was hovering over his.
"Celylith?"

"Yes, my lord," the younger elf nodded in what he hoped was a soothing, reassuring way. Not that it would matter much, he thought with a little bit amusement. Lord Glorfindel was anything but stupid, and he knew perfectly well how grave their situation really was. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Not really," Glorfindel admitted wryly and grasped the younger elf's offered hand, trying to push himself into a sitting position. "Experience, however, has taught me never to assume anything when you have the means to make sure."

"A very wise attitude," Celylith retorted as he did his best to help the other sit up and carefully pulled both of them backwards so they could lean against the wall. He gave the bloody and bruised elf he held more or less upright a wry look, doing his best to hide his ever-growing fear and worry. Lord Glorfindel did not look good at all. He raised an eyebrow in a disapproving matter that he had seen his father use many times in the past. "What in the name of Elbereth did you tell him this time, my lord?"

The corners of the elf lord's mouth twitched and would almost have twisted into a smile.
"I am beginning to suspect that it doesn't matter what I tell him. He seems to take offence at my very presence, and yet he always insists on it. Trust an old elf's words, pen-neth: Everyone east of Esgaroth is mad."

"You need not try to convince me of that," Celylith shook his head slightly, trying to ignore the tickling sensation that was beginning to grow in his chest. "I have already come to that conclusion, my lord."

He was about to ask the blond elf what other injuries apart from the broken ribs he had suffered from his little "session" with Glamir this time, but at that point the tickling refused to be ignored any longer, and a second later he erupted into a coughing fit he was unable to suppress any longer. Celylith knew that, in reality, it couldn't have lasted much longer than twenty or maybe thirty seconds at the most, but to him it felt like an eternity. Every hacking cough seemed to worsen that pain that was already pulsing through his body, and for a second or two he was sure he could feel the edges of one of his own broken ribs grind again each other – a courtesy of his last "session" with Glamir.

After a decade or two the coughing eased and finally abated completely, and the silver haired elf all but collapsed against the wall, feeling as if the last of his strength had just evaporated into thin air. As soon as the burning in his chest had lessened somewhat and his head had stopped spinning around its own axis, he raised his head a little and opened his eyes, looking straight into the worried eyes of the golden haired elf next to him who was too weak himself at the moment to do anything but look at him.

"I would ask you if you are alright, but I think we both know the answer to that," Glorfindel said softly, suppressing a cough himself.

"I'm … fine," Celylith wheezed, still trying to regain his breath. "It is you I am … worried about right now, my lord."

Glorfindel was oddly touched by the younger elf's concern, however misplaced it might be, and opened his mouth to tell him just that, only to close it again with a small snap that reopened his split lip. Celylith may be young and far from up to his usual strength right now, but both of them knew that neither of them was "fine" or "alright".

The blond elf painfully shuffled backwards a little and winced openly when his cut back touched the cool, damp stone wall. This had been the … third time he had been dragged to Glamir's little chamber of horror (a term Celylith had come up with some time ago). After the first "session" he had thought it rather unlikely that Glamir could come up with anything more painful to do to him, but he had swiftly been proven wrong. There were many things one could say about the small man, but he was most definitely not unimaginative.

The only tiny spark of light in this otherwise pitch-black situation was that Glamir was so busy trying to make him break that he had only "interrogated" the younger elf twice. The man had been careful not to injure either of them too seriously, in Celylith's case to make sure he would still be able to tell his lord what he wanted to hear and in his case so that they still had something left to execute tomorrow morning, or so he suspected. He didn't know anything about the twins, but neither Glamir nor the guards mentioned them anymore. They weren't sure what that meant, but both had agreed to boldly assume that it was a good thing and that, with the help of the Valar, the two had somehow managed to escape.

Glorfindel tried to ignore the pain that lanced through his torso in rhythm with his heartbeat and narrowed his eyes as far as he could, considering one of them was nearly swollen shut. The younger elf who was leaning against the wall next to him didn't look good at all; something that could also said about himself, he was sure. The wood-elf's glow was even dimmer than his own, something that was mainly to be accredited to his comparative youth, and in what little light their bodies produced the wounds that were visible on his body looked even more serious than they had before.

He shook his head inwardly. If Glamir went on like this, the young one would run out of undamaged skin long before the man lost the taste for carving lines into his face and torso. What was worrying him far more than the cuts, however, was Glamir's little game he had started a while ago. The second time they had "interrogated" the younger elf, Celylith had come back with a large number of fresh bruises, a lot of new cuts and a dislocated right wrist. Last time he had sported even more cuts, a bleeding head wound, more darkening bruises and a dislocated right elbow. Next would be his shoulder, both of them knew that, and neither of them really wanted to think about what Glamir would do when he'd be finished with his right arm.

He would probably start with the left arm, Glorfindel thought to himself, feeling dark anger and hatred well up inside of him. And after that with his right leg, most likely. The elf hadn't thought it possible, but his feelings of contempt and hate had grown ever stronger, and when he thought about the fact that Glamir had done the same to Estel, the prince and the twins, it was enough to make him nearly lose his composure. They were all so young yet, and no matter what they'd already seen and done, they were far too young for things like these. Not that one could ever become old enough for them, he added darkly.

"My lord?" the Silvan elf's voice drew Glorfindel back out of his thoughts, and the elf lord blinked and looked up, right into the younger elf's worried dark blue eyes.

Celylith was still leaning against the wall, his right arm cradled to himself, and a sharp stab of fear went through Glorfindel's heart. He didn't fear much nowadays, he did in fact fear nothing but that he would be unable to protect those he loved or was responsible for, but right now he was deeply afraid of the possibility that his limited healing abilities wouldn't be enough for much longer. He had managed to straighten the wrist without much trouble, but the elbow had been rather tricky, and the younger elf had been unconscious and he himself drenched in sweat by the time he had managed to force the bones back into their places. He already dreaded the time he would have to reset the wood-elf's shoulder – and he would have to, he was sure about it. Glamir always "interrogated" them within hours of each other – probably another of the man's little games.

With an inward headshake Glorfindel forced himself to abandon these thoughts and returned his attention to the anxious elf in front of him.
"Yes?"
"What else did they do, except break another of your ribs?"

For a moment, Glorfindel contemplated not answering, but then he reconsidered. The other would find out anyway, sooner rather than later.
"I think my left collarbone is cracked. It might also be broken, I'm not sure."

"You could have mentioned that sooner, my lord," Celylith pointed out with a dark look that wasn't that much different from the look the silver haired elf's liege used to give people who had incurred his wrath.

"And what would you have done?" the older elf inquired softly. "We don't get any more water until tomorrow morning and we've long since run out of bandages. There's nothing you or I can do, young one, and you know it."

"Well – yes," Celylith admitted reluctantly.

Glorfindel merely gave him the tiniest hint of a smile and didn't answer, a carefully emotionless expression on his face, and the younger elf's eyes narrowed, the pain in his body suddenly forgotten for the moment. He looked at the blond elf for several moments, apparently wrestling with something, and finally opened his mouth to speak, a somewhat tentative and at the same time determined expression on his face.
"What is it you are not telling me, my lord?"

A small flicker of surprise fluttered over the golden haired elf's face before he quickly regained control over his features.
"I am not sure I understand you, pen-neth."

"There is something you are not telling me, my lord," Celylith repeated softly. "What is it?"

"Are you accusing me of lying, son of Celythramir?" Glorfindel asked incredulously, an eyebrow arched in a faintly disapproving manner.

If Glorfindel had thought that this manner of address would impress the younger elf, he was mistaken, for Celylith merely clenched his jaw and refused to look away, a steely glint in his eyes that reminded the elf lord of the other's father.
"No, my lord, of course not," Celylith answered smoothly. "I am accusing you of withholding the full extent of the truth from me."

Glorfindel didn't reply in any way and merely looked at him in a manner that made Celylith feel suddenly sympathetic with the other's fellow councilmen (and Lord Elrond, for that matter), and the younger elf shook his head slightly, a small smile on his face.
"I know that, in your eyes, I am merely an elfling, my lord, but this is not true. You grow up fast in Mirkwood, and I am over 2500 years old. It may be just the blink of an eye for you, but believe me, I am no child. I know when someone isn't telling me everything. They told you something, something you do not wish me to know."

"It is of no great importance," Glorfindel brushed the younger elf's words aside. "There is nothing you can do anyway."

"Then at least tell me what it is," Celylith replied evenly. "If it is of no great importance, then it surely will not matter whether or not I know about it."

"It is not that I don't trust you," Glorfindel shook his head the tiniest bit, wincing as that slightly movement renewed the pain in his body. "I merely did not wish to add to your worries."

"With what, my lord?" Celylith pressed.

Glorfindel sighed slightly, deciding that he should have hidden his feelings better. It would have been so much easier that way.
"My execution is scheduled tomorrow at noon, or so I've been informed."

Celylith's mouth fell open and he blinked unbelievingly as he leaned forward, totally ignoring the complaints his body screeched at him. It was obvious that he had expected anything but this, and it took him quite some time to find his voice.
"What?" he finally whispered incredulously. "My lord, this is not the time for jests!"

"I am perfectly serious," Glorfindel replied darkly. "If I were jesting, it would sound something like this: A troll, an orc and…"

"My lord!"

Glorfindel smiled slightly at the younger one's indignant tone of voice.
"Glamir told me yesterday that they would execute me tomorrow at midday. He did not name any specific reasons, but I guess it is both to state an example and to draw our friends out."

Celylith forced himself to calm down as far as he could, his thoughts spinning sickeningly.
"Why?" he finally asked. "Why only you and not me?"

"That is rather obvious, is it not?" Glorfindel asked calmly. "They need you, Celylith. In case they do not manage to recapture Prince Legolas, you are the only person who could possibly tell them what Girion wants to hear."

"I won't tell them anything," the silver haired elf retorted heatedly. "I would never betray my king or my people!"

"I know," Glorfindel nodded seriously, "I know that, young one. But they do not. They will not risk letting you die until you have served your purpose."

"But…" Celylith began, only to trail off as another thought struck him. "The prince! He will walk right into their trap! I know him and Estel, they will not allow this to happen without attempting some sort of rescue!"

"I agree," Glorfindel said quietly. "If they are out there and are able to, they will undoubtedly come. However, they may be reckless, but they are not stupid. I am sure they will have come up with one of their escape plans that mysteriously even work – most of the time."

"And what if not?" Celylith asked softly. "Far be it from my mind to question my prince's abilities, but we don't know in what condition they will be, if they are free to move at all. What if they do not manage to come and free you before it is too late?"

"Then," Glorfindel retorted earnestly, "I will join those of my friends and kin who are still abiding in the Halls of Waiting."

"How can you be dispassionate?" Celylith asked incredulously. "You cannot die, my lord! You cannot just give up and let them kill you! Surely you do not wish to return to Námo's dwelling and leave Arda behind once more?! "

"I do not wish to die again, young one," the golden haired elf shook his head. "Mandos' Halls are too uneventful for my taste, but it appears that we will have little say in that matter. No," he raised a hand when the younger elf opened his mouth to speak once more, "let me finish, Celythramirion. I have lived two good lives here on Arda, something that few of our people can claim. The second was a gift I never hoped to gain, and even though I do not know whether or not I have proven myself worthy of it yet, I have enjoyed every moment of it. I do not wish to go, but I am ready for that journey if it comes to it. The only thing I regret is that I will have failed in my duty to protect my lord and his family."

Celylith shook his head. It was feeling rather surreal to discuss this topic with the reborn warrior from Gondolin.
"Lord Elrond will not reprimand you for anything, my lord. There is no way you could have known."

"No, he will most likely not," the other shook his head as well. "And yet it matters not and changes little, at least for me. You know of what I speak, I think."

"I do indeed, my lord," the silver haired elf admitted softly. "I do indeed."

"Do you see now why I didn't want to tell you this?" Glorfindel went on. "There is nothing you or I can do to influence what will happen. All we can do is keep our strength up and try to be ready when the time comes."

"You should repeat that in Glamir's presence," Celylith grumbled so softly that the words were hardly audible.

"I would do it if I had any hope at all that it would be of any use," Glorfindel smiled slightly. "I have the very distinct feeling that Glamir is not very interested in anything I have to say."

"Be careful, my lord," Celylith cautioned softy. "Whatever may happen tomorrow at noon, it is not a good idea to bait that human. He hates you with all his heart; you can see it in his eyes every time you are mentioned."

"The feeling is mutual," the blond elf answered curtly.

"I can't dispute that," the other smiled slightly. "I am not too fond of him myself. I fear I am running out of joints."

"And I am running out of ribs," Glorfindel nodded. "It is rather inconvenient, is it not?"

For a few moments, they merely looked at each other, unreadable expressions on their faces. A couple of seconds later both of them started laughing softly, the clear sound mirth seeming starkly out of place in the dark, depressing surroundings. The hilarity of the moment would have lasted a lot longer had their bodies been up to it, and they stopped quickly only because the laughter jarred their injuries too much.

Glorfindel tried to get his erratic breathing under control, still fighting off waves of near-hysterical laughter. Considering the way his collarbone felt, namely as if the balrog had paid him another small visit (only that this time, it had decided to sit on him rather than burn him alive), he was rather sure that it was broken, and it most certainly thought that laughing was a stupid idea. Well, he thought sarcastically, his collarbone just might be on to something.

The silver haired elf next to him had stopped laughing as well, his right arm clutched to his chest and his face the colour of dirty snow, and Glorfindel found himself once again marvelling at how young he looked. It must have to do something with him being from Mirkwood, he thought, it was just the same thing with Prince Legolas. The wood-elves' home was constantly besieged by darkness, more so than any other elven realm on this side of the Western Sea. There was a battle-hardened air that surrounded most of the Silvan folk of Mirkwood, and once it disappeared the youth of some of them became even more readily apparent.

Glorfindel shook his head inwardly. No matter how much this young one insisted on being an adult (just like Estel, the prince, Elladan and Elrohir), in his eyes he was anything but, and right now he looked too young to have even reached his majority.
"Don't worry," he said softly, eyes still fixed on his companion's cut face. "It will be alright."

Celylith smiled slightly, his left arm clutching both his ribs and his right arm in an attempt to ease the pain that had awoken in the battered limb.
"As I told you before, my lord: I do not really think so."

"And it will be as I say, you'll see," Glorfindel said with far more conviction than he actually felt.

"Is that so, my lord?" Celylith arched a dark silver eyebrow. "Well, in that case – would you care to place a wager?"

"You wish to bet about something like this?" the other elf asked amusedly.

"Is there something else you would rather do?" Celylith asked back. "I am sure we have counted the stones in the wall only about five times, so we could do that again. Or we could pace, even though it has lost quite a bit of its appeal as well, at least for me."

The elf lord shuddered inwardly, the mere idea of getting up and actually walking causing a dull stab of pain to stab through his torso and shoulder. He allowed himself to stop thinking about what might have happened to the other four young ones, what Elrond would do to him if he found out that he had allowed them to get involved in this catastrophe and that, if Girion and his men had their way, he would die in less than twenty hours, and finally nodded minutely, a small sparkle of amusement and mischief in his eyes. One could say a lot about Thranduil's subjects, but they were not boring.

"Alright," he inclined his head. "What are your odds then, young one?"

Celylith leaned back against the wall, a wide grin on his face. Lord Glorfindel truly had the most amazing talent to divert your attention to whatever subject he chose, something that could be both a blessing and a curse.

"Well," he began, collecting his thoughts, "Let's not make it too hard. I think we should start with defining the term 'alright'. I refuse to accept either Estel's or Prince Legolas' definition."

Glorfindel narrowed his eye that was currently not busy swelling shut.
"'Alright' means 'alive and not seriously damaged'."

"That, again, is a matter of interpretation," Celylith pointed out calmly, apparently more than accustomed to discussions such as this one. "For example, would it be 'alright' if…"

It went on like this for quite some time, and when they had in the end agreed on specific odds after more than an hour, Glorfindel had revised his previous statement. Everyone east of the Gladden Fields was mad, even though that was a realisation he would neither share with his young companion nor with the son of Oropher or any of his subjects.

Legolas was doing this on purpose, he was sure about it. It would be just the kind of thing he would do, stubborn elf that he was.

Aragorn growled inwardly and gave the wall in front of him a fiery look that would nearly have set the wood panelling on fire. This was the elf's revenge for yesterday; there was simply no other explanation.

The young man finished putting on his boots, still cursing under his breath, and quickly stood to his feet, feeling immense satisfaction when the world didn't start spinning around him as it had done the past day. He was still riddled with enough holes to give an orc lair a run for its money and was beginning to suspect that it would take him at least half a century regain his former strength, but he was making progress. He could stand unaided – that was something, wasn't it?

And it was a good thing he could stand, too, he thought a moment later. This way he could go, find Legolas and strangle him. Or talk some sense into him, whatever was easier. He shook his head as he reached for the doorknob. He had woken up about half an hour ago, and had needed several minutes to regain his wits sufficiently to find out what had caused him to wake up in the first place. In the end he had turned to the side, and had cursed softly when he had laid eyes on Legolas' empty bed.

Yes, he decided darkly as he closed the door behind him. Legolas had done this on purpose, just to make him feel what it was like to wake up and find that your friend had disappeared in a city where about ninety-nine percent of the populace wanted to kill him. Aragorn shook his head slightly, inwardly still fantasising about what he would do to that reckless elf when he got his hands on him, and turned to the right, soundlessly walking down the corridor. There were quite a few places where Legolas could be, and the most obvious one was the twins' room.

The young ranger walked down the corridor, every once in a while freezing on the spot when a floorboard protested loudly against his weight. He needn't have bothered though; the only person who was occupying this wing of the house's first level was Laenro whose chambers were to the left of their room. Laenro, however, was probably still downstairs, working through the night with Sero and the rest of his men to co-ordinate everything and to make sure that his men would be ready tomorrow at noon.

The anxiety that was residing in the pit of his stomach and that had yet to abate even the tiniest bit grew anew at his thoughts, and the young man was unable to push it aside. Yes, he was afraid of tomorrow, he was even very afraid. There were so many risks, for all of them, and the chance that they would all die without managing to prevent Glorfindel's death or to free Celylith and Laenro's sister was a big one. Much could go wrong (and, if he had learned anything at all, much would go wrong, too), and he was afraid for every single one of them, from Laenro and his men to his brothers who would die as well if they failed. Most of all, however, he was afraid for Legolas, and that was one of the reasons why he was currently sneaking through the house at dead of night. He knew that there was no real chance that he would be able to convince his elven friend to change his mind, but he'd be damned if he didn't try.

Aragorn reached the door leading to the twins' room and soundlessly opened it, gliding over the wooden threshold in a stealthy manner that would have made his elven instructors proud. It quickly became apparent that Legolas was not in the room, but the man stopped for a second to check up on his brothers. He stepped closer until he was standing in front of the beds and smiled slightly, his heart feeling instantly more at ease now that he saw with his own eyes that they were alive and – relatively speaking – well.

He cocked his head slightly to the side, studying Elladan's pale face and the thin sheen of sweat that still beaded his brow, even despite all their efforts. While Elrohir had surfaced a few more times this past day and had displayed varying states of alertness, Elladan had done no such thing. He had remained unresponsive and unconscious, and no matter what herbs they tried or what potions they came up with, he stayed that way. From what he and Thesieni had been able to ascertain Elladan had not slipped into an unnatural sleep, something that happened very rarely to the Firstborn anyway; he would simply not wake up.

Aragorn smiled slightly, the worry in his heart not abating in the slightest though. This was just like Elladan, to stubbornly keep sleeping while everyone was waiting for him to wake up. The man hoped with all his heart that this was indeed just a deeper-than-normal sleep and that Elladan would be alright – while it appeared that his condition hadn't worsened, it had certainly not improved much.

The dark haired ranger stepped closer, his eyes boring into his brother's still figure. There were few herbs that affected elves worse than men, but they did exist, and it was possible that Glamir had included one or two of them in his little potion, no matter how rare they were. Right now he couldn't think of any that might serve any purpose for the master torturer, but that didn't mean anything.

He just hoped that Elladan's body would be able to fight off the fever and that he would finally wake up – there was no way to tell how Elrohir would react if he saw his brother in such a state. Aragorn shuddered inwardly. One of the twins worrying about anyone was bad enough, but one of the twins worrying about the other was almost unbearable.

The man moved over to the younger twin's side and made sure that he was resting as comfortably as possible before moving back to the door, pausing there for a moment to give the two sleeping elves a last long look. With a small, barely audible sigh he turned around to the still open door and nearly collided with Thesieni who had soundlessly appeared behind him. For a moment Aragorn merely looked at the elderly woman with wide eyes, desperately trying to come up with something that would stop her from ripping off his head as she had threatened to do on more than one occasion.

Thesieni arched a grey eyebrow and looked darkly at the stunned ranger.
"Unless I am very much mistaken, your room is down the corridor, is it not, boy?"

Aragorn swallowed quickly, wondering whereto his ability to form coherent sentences had disappeared.
"Uhm … well … yes, but…"

"The two of them are fine," the healer continued, shifting her grip on the jug of water she had apparently brought up from downstairs, "Or as fine as they are going to be today. It won't help you or them if you fret over them."

"I don't fret over them!" Aragorn protested flatly.

"Yes, you do," Thesieni smiled softly. "You don't have to justify yourself, ranger. I have seen it many times, you are merely more persistent than most."

Aragorn returned the smile somewhat tentatively, and decided to exploit the healer's apparently rather good mood.
"My lady, you do not happen to have seen…"

"The elf?" the woman retorted wryly. "No, but I'd follow that corridor to the end and try the roof if I were you. He's not downstairs."

The young man blinked perplexedly.
"How did you know who I was looking for?"

"I am a healer," Thesieni retorted. "I know all that goes on in this house, especially if it concerns my patients."

There was really nothing Aragorn could say, and so he merely nodded at the woman.
"I see. Thank you, I will do that."

He gave the healer a small bow and turned to the right, fully prepared to follow her instructions, when Thesieni's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Oh, and Master Ranger," she began, giving her patient a sweet smile when he turned to look at her, "If you're not back in your room in twenty minutes – both of you – I will find a thoroughly unpleasant and painful procedure I will have to perform on the two of you. That's a promise. You need all the rest you can get."

"Of course," Aragorn nodded smoothly. "Far be it from my mind to disobey you."

All the healer said was something sounding remotely like "Hmph!" before she turned around and shut the door in his face. Aragorn looked at the wooden door for a few moments, a half-puzzled and half-amused look on his face, but then he turned as well and walked down the corridor. He was really slipping, he thought to himself as he located the wooden stairs leading up to the attic and the roof. He should have known Legolas was on the roof or somewhere where he could be close to the stars; it was what he – just like every elf he knew – would do under these circumstances.

In a matter of moments he had reached the dusty attic that was packed tightly with crates, barrels and pieces of broken furniture. A multitude of footprints were visible in the dust that covered the floor, a legacy of Cendan's men who had searched the small space only a few days ago. Fortunately for all of them, Aragorn thought with enormous relief, they hadn't realised that a small part of the attic had been separated by a cleverly inserted wooden wall to his left.

If they had discovered it, he mused darkly, Legolas would be captured now, the twins would still be in the dungeons and he would most likely be dead or having a little "conversation" with Teonvan. The young man had to suppress the sudden wave of hatred and fear and the urge to kill that welled up inside of him. His desire to kill Teonvan had grown even stronger, and right now he would have given his right arm for the chance to wrap his hands around the dark haired captain's skinny neck. Well, he amended, maybe not really, but almost.

Abandoning this train of thought, Aragorn located the stairs that led up to the roof and began to climb them, mumbling under his breath. Legolas should better have a good reason for this, he thought darkly. Making him climb all these stairs was … evil, yes, that was it…

After a short pause to regain his breath he continued, and another few seconds later he reached the roof, unconsciously sucking in a deep breath when he opened the small hatch and the cold air assaulted his senses. For a moment he contemplated obeying Thesieni's orders and to return to their room, but quickly decided against it. There was no way he would let Legolas get away with this. The elf needed sleep and to recover his strength, and that was exactly what he was going to tell him.

He reached for a handhold on the snow-covered roof and carefully climbed onto it, inwardly deciding that he far higher up than he had thought. This roof was about as high as the second set of the beech tree's branches outside his window back at Rivendell. Aragorn gulped silently. He could still remember what it had felt like when he had fallen out of it, and the memory didn't help to calm him in the slightest.

He shook his head again and narrowed his eyes, straining to see through the thick, pitch-black darkness. Finally, when he was just about to climb back down, he caught sight of a thin, in the night almost invisible figure to his right that was almost hidden by the roof's snow-covered ridging. With a small stab of indignation he noticed that the elf wasn't even wearing an over shirt as he was, and with a dark scowl on his face he carefully moved into the fair haired figure's direction, hoping against hope that he would be able to surprise him. A part of him would have loved to see him jump into the air in shock – a rather large part.

Just as he had thought, the elf sitting a few feet in front of him cocked his head slightly to the side, even though he did not turn around.
"I have a perfectly good explanation for this."

Aragorn glowered at elven prince as he stepped closer and eyed the tiny, platform-like spot that was Legolas' current perch.
"If I were a vengeful person, I would wish for a strong gust of wind that would blow you right off this accursed roof, elf."

"Then I thank Elbereth that you the epitome of kindness and forgiveness, mellon nín," Legolas replied without turning around. "You can stop scowling at me, by the way. It doesn't really work when it's dark and your victim can't see you."

"This 'epitome of kindness and forgiveness' would like to know what in the name of the One you were thinking!" the man told Legolas as he stepped beside him. "It is the middle of the night, it's freezing, you are wearing only a single shirt and are not well to begin with! You need your sleep! Do you know what you put me through?"

"Oh yes," Legolas nodded wickedly. "The same thing you put me through yesterday. It served you right, reckless human."

"Not in the slightest," Aragorn shook his head fiercely. "I ran into Thesieni." He watched with some satisfaction how the elf's body tensed slightly at his words. "Exactly. She threatened both of us with something very unpleasant and painful if we weren't back downstairs in twenty minutes."

"She would," the elf muttered softly. "I've tried to tell her that the Firstborn need little sleep, but I have the feeling that she didn't believe a single word I said."

"I wonder why," Aragorn retorted darkly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, beginning to shiver with cold. He looked at the motionless elf next to him, frowning darkly. "What are you doing here, Legolas? You need to rest. You won't be able to help anyone tomorrow if you are too tired to concentrate."

"I wanted to see the stars," the elf answered. "I couldn't know that there would be none to see tonight, could I?"

"You could have opened a window," the young ranger pointed out tersely. "What are you really doing here?" Legolas didn't answer, and Aragorn stepped a little closer, his eyes never leaving the elf's face. He remained silent for a few moments, and finally added softly, "You fear for Celylith. It is only natural."

Legolas looked up sharply, apparently about to deny the ranger's words, but then he lowered his head, either to block the man's look or the cold wind that whipped his hair around his face.

"Aye, I do fear for him," he admitted softly. "You and I know what Glamir is capable of, besides, Celylith doesn't like to be underground, even less than others of our kind. It's not so much being inside an enclosed space for him, it's more being below ground level." Noticing Aragorn's questioning look, he added, "I told you about that time we got captured by orcs?"

"Which one?" Aragorn asked wryly, trying to ease the tension of the moment.

Legolas smiled thinly.

"You do have a point, my friend. However, I meant the one time about five and a half yéni ago, when we literally stumbled over a horde's lair." He sensed more than saw the man's quick nod next to him and took a deep breath before he continued. "Things went ill very quickly. He tried to protect me and to draw the orcs' attention to himself, stubborn fool that he is, and I was in no real condition to stop him. The beasts' lair was deep below a steep hill, as was the room they kept us in. He remembers more of that time than I do, and, believe me, they are no good memories. It took Glónduil and the others nearly two days to find us, but in the end they did, killed the orcs and freed us. Celylith never talks about it, but I got him drunk once and he told me a few things." He looked up, his eyes dark and serious. "I just hope he's not alone in a cell. I don't think he would take it very well."

For a few moments, Aragorn didn't really know what to say, but then he reached out and placed a hand on the elven prince's shoulder.
"He will hold on until we can free him, Legolas. You know he will. It's only a few more hours."

"Yes," the elf agreed solemnly. "A few more hours." He turned to his human friend, a quick hint of uncertainty flickering over his face. "What if I fail, Estel? What if it doesn't work? What if I can't do it? One mistake on my part and Glorfindel will die – and Celylith, your brothers and you most likely shortly after him."

"You will not fail," Aragorn shook his head with finality. "You were right from the beginning, mellon nín: Your plan is the only chance we have. If we don't take it, we will all die and Girion will have won."

Aragorn quickly closed his mouth again, inwardly calling himself an idiot and a multitude of other uncomplimentary things. He had come here to get Legolas to change his mind, not to encourage him, in Elbereth's name! Still, he thought to himself, he stood by what he'd said. If there was one person who could pull this off, it was Legolas.

"I know that it is the only way," the blond elf retorted a little testily. "But what if I can't do it? My arm…"

"Is healed," Aragorn interrupted Legolas' sentence.

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the man.
"I haven't really used it for more than two weeks, Strider. A fortnight ago, it was far from healed. I don't know if I can do this, but there is no other and…"

Aragorn shook his head and tightened his hold on the elf's shoulder, pulling him around until they looked at each other.
"Stop this, Legolas," he told the other firmly and insistently. "You can do this, I know you can. I do not say this to put your mind at ease, my friend. I know you can do what we agreed on, I know it with such certainty that I would bet my family's lives on it."

"You are betting your family's lives on it," Legolas pointed out sourly. "Your brothers will die if I don't succeed."

"It is a bet I would take any day," the man retorted seriously. "I trust you with my own life and that of my father and brothers, and I always will. I know you will succeed. This time tomorrow, we'll have freed Celylith, Glorfindel and Ethoani. Trust me."

"Or we'll all be dead," the elf muttered not very optimistically.

"Or that, yes," Aragorn agreed sarcastically. "I would prefer the first possibility though. From what I've heard from Glorfindel, the Halls of Waiting aren't exactly an exciting place."

"Unless you're stuck there with him," Legolas retorted wryly, obviously trying to shake off the dark, solemn mood that had surrounded him for the past few hours.

"One more reason not to die," Aragorn grinned. "You would have to put up with him for a much longer period of time than I would, my friend, don't forget that." His grin widened a little and he offered the elf a hand down. "And now do me a favour and come back inside. I really do not want to provoke Thesieni's wrath."

"No, we certainly wouldn't want that," the elf agreed as he grabbed the offered hand. A second later he stood next to the man and gave him a long, serious look. "I do, by the way."

"Do what, my friend?"

"Trust you," the elven prince said slowly. "Nothing could ever change that."

"Then trust me now," Aragorn insisted gently. "We will free our friends and return home. I know we will."

"Then that is enough for me," Legolas said softly and turned into the direction of the hatch, motioning the man to precede him.

A few seconds later they had reached the stairs leading down to the attic, Legolas watching the obviously cold and tired man closely in order not to let him slip and fall off the roof. The elf gave the overcast night sky a last look before he turned to the man, ready to follow him down the stairs.

"It will be a dark morning, Estel."

The man's grey eyes fixed on the equally grey clouds covering the heavens and he nodded slowly.
"Aye, my friend, it will be. But who can know what the evening will bring?"

"No one," Legolas agreed with a small smile. "We'll have to wait and see."

Aragorn did not answer and merely returned the smile, and both of them turned around and climbed down the stairs. In a matter of seconds their heads had disappeared, and a moment later a slender elven hand reached up and closed the hatch behind them, shutting out the wind and the darkness of the night.

---

TBC...

---

dúnadan - 'Man of the West', ranger
ada - father (daddy)
mellon nín - my friend
muindor nín - my brother (as opposed to 'gwador' or 'gwanur'; I don't think the twins would call Aragorn 'sworn brother' since they so often insist that he is their 'real' brother, human or not)
pen-neth - young one
Námo - the real name of the Vala Mandos, whose more commonly known name was taken from the name of his Halls
yéni (pl. of yén) - elvish units of time, each equivalent to 144

---

morosely I want my stars back. I miss my stars. blinks quickly Oh, sorry. So, as I said, things will begin to heat up next chapter, because they ... insert ominous music here ... will be setting Legolas' plan in motion! g Yes, they really should know better by now, shouldn't they? They don't learn, that's their problem... falls back into dark mood I want my stars. If you want to cheer me up, you can send me a review. I would be very happy about it, really! Thanks!

---

Additional A/N:

Deana - g Yes indeed, everyone's exhausted and in pain. I think that about sums it up. In fact, I think that's more or less what happens in all my stories... evil grin Weird, isn't it? Great you still like it, thanks a lot for the review!
Sirithiliel - I'll take the "LOL" as a compliment. I'll just assume you liked it then. g Thanks for all your reviews!
Sadie Elfgirl - nods I know. That's the general problem. Last time I had more than enough (besides, there were only Legolas and Aragorn to consider last time), but in this story... trails off Horrible. LOL, well, sorry if the Glorfindel torture was "horrible". gets a dark glare of her own You're right of course, it was simply horrible. Really bad. Just why do you say that Legolas' plan is stupid? Really, whatever gave you that idea... I really don't know. You missed Celylith? Oh, I'm sure he'd be very flattered to hear that. Don't worry though, he's fine - relatively speaking, of course. evil grin
LOTRFaith - blink You know, I never really pictured Cendan's face as "cute". He's not really the cute type, is he? Well, be that as it may, I'm glad to hear that you like him so much. You can't have him though, I'll need him for a little while longer. And who knows, maybe he'll appear in another story in the future, so I'm afraid I can't give him to you. Sorry. g You have a lot of questions, yes, and I really can't answer any of them. Oh, except for the one concerning Thranduil. He didn't come to the city because he has no idea where the lot of them is at the moment. He doesn't even know it exists, remember that Legolas said that his people thought that no one is living in this part of Rhûn? When the twins, Celylith and Glorfindel mentioned him, they were merely bluffing. And don't worry. I am indeed planning to kill Glamir. As I said, I have so few villains that I really can't let him live. g
Red Tigress - Well, the plan ... It's always a little tricky, isn't it? Their plans never really work, and I don't think this time will be an exception. Surprise, surprise. g Great to hear that you liked the chapter, thanks for the review!
Someone Reading - LOL, someone the whole ice-water-thing made me laugh really hard. I don't know why, I just imagined Cendan with little icicles all over his body... g So you're worried about the plan? Well, you should be! Their plans never work, after all... frowns I like the fire, I wish I'd thought of it sooner. I don't have time to use it in this story, but I'll think about using it in another one. Thanks for yet another plot bunny! g
SeventhSpanishAngel12 - blushes Thank you! It's always nice to hear that someone likes my humour - it IS kind of weird, after all... g So you lose fics too? That's nice to hear! It happens quite often to me too... I'm getting old, I think. I DO enjoy writing these stories, don't worry, and I think I will write a sequel. Somehow these characters refuse to shut up. g Well, it's nice to hear that you like my story, thanks a lot for the very nice review!
AngelMouse5 - Well, it's not a very nice thing to call Legolas' plan "insane". It's accurate, minf you, but still not a very nice thing to say. Don't let him hear that, I don't think he'd agree. He's weird, somehow, isn't he? g
Celebdil-galad Tinlaure - Yes. Of course Glorfindel's going to die. I hate him. I want him to die so Arwen can take his place. g And no, you don't need to ask whether or not Celylith is "in for it", you know me after all - I can't resist. It's not the angst I have problems with, I love writing angst, it's just the torture. Sometimes it can get really hard to write that, especially when I'm not really in the mood. Ohio, hm? Well, I guess you're right. It's highly unlikely that I'll be in Ohio in the next few years. If I should be, however, I'll let you know. g
Bailey - wide-eyed There are things like Bible finals? Wow, that's something I would fail in a second... Then again, I DID chose Philosophy in ninth grade... g Hmm, let me see, Legolas' plan is stupid, and Aragorn is unhappy because it's stupid. Another person who missed Celylith! Yay! Great to hear, I'm sure he'll be very flattered. He will be in this chapter, don't worry. Zam would kill me if I didn't let him appear once in a while, after all. g
Crippled Raven - g Yes indeed. Before you're beginning to pack your things to come and live with me: We were the last year who was allowed to drop it. And it was only in our state, so in Bavaria for example you were never allowed to, I think. They are strange, after all. g But believe me, it saved my life - and my grades. You have to hand in handwritten essays? Well, I tried to hand in handwritten coursework (only two pages, thank God) yesterday because I'd run out of ink, and they refused to accept it. I knew that, of course, but I thought they'd make an exception. Well, it wasn't so bad since I could simply send it via email, but I was still rather ... unhappy about it. I hate to write anything by hand, so I did it all for nothing. grimaces LOL, I see that you like Cendan. It's very nice to hear, I think he'll be very flattered when he hears that. Great that the chapter managed to cheer you up a little, it's very nice to hear!
LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel - Nope, the Glorfindel torture wasn't too graphic, was it? I really thought it would be better this way. And of course you can borrow Rashwe if you want to - a lot of people want him, I really don't get it. shrugs Well, whatever. So, you are very welcome to use it, just put it in the disclaimer.
Falling Star - I would go and check if you really DO start every review with "Wow", but right now FF.net is 'experiencing heavy traffic' and so I can't. Sorry. g Try to stay on the couch! It's not very nice to fall off, besides, it can be very dangerous. g Well, the next three chapters have quite a bit of angst and action, even though there's not much of action in this one. I hope you don't mind. g
Strider's Girl - Wow, the "brilliant and brainy Nili"? Thank you! You'll give me delusions of grandeur, but it's nice to hear nonetheless! huggles I knew that you would like the fact that Aragorn was awake for most of the chapter. He has missed quite a lot, after all. And the plot just ... comes to me. It develops and begs to be written. I know that it sounds like a really bad cliché, but it's true. shrugs
Karone Evertree - LOL, yes, Aragorn is most definitely ill if he's fantasising about Elrond's potions. Poor ranger. evil grin About the updating: This time I was late, I'll admit that. But the every-five-days thing was a long time ago really. It's been more than two months now that I changed it to once a week. Sorry about that, but there really is no way to make it any faster. g
Elvendancer - Yeah, I guess that an Annoyed List would be quite a hit. g You're right though, it would get a little bit confusing with all those lists around... And you're right of course, it's Glamir whose a few sandwiches short of a picnic, not Glorfindel. But you try telling him that!
Tychen - You are far too trusting, really. I used to tell my mother I had important work to do all the time, and then I played games or things like that... g I think all children do that. LOL, yes, Glorfindel ticks people off - but he does it with STYLE! And you're right, Glamir would have got Celylith if he'd been smart, but I guess that wouldn't have been quite as satisfactory. And you're right again, Legolas and Aragorn are most definitely not well or recovered - they're merely stubborn. g
Emiri-chan - shakes head You're the second person telling me that. I really wish I'd thought of using fire earlier - perhaps I'll still use it in another story. Unfortunately I don't have the time to put it into this one which is too long as it is. So you're attached to Celylith, huh? I'd be careful if I were you, Zam can be quite protective. Well, she's grabbed him since the last chapters of AEFAE, so I guess she does have a point somehow... g It's very nice to hear that you like my weird little stories. They are weird, after all... Well, about the reviewing-thing: I promise I'll try to read the first chapter soon. I really can't promise you more than one chapter or so, because I really don't have the time. For example: I haven't even been able to read Cassia's new story. I managed five chapters or so, but for all I know Legolas is still dead. It's sad, really. Just one thing: Don't write what people want you to write. If I'd write what people wanted, this story would have no cliffies and would be one long torture scene. g So, just write what you want to write. I know that sounds stupid, but I'm really not a good person to ask for advice.
Alassa Tiwele - I know, I know. Thank you for pointing it out, I noticed it one or two days after I had posted the chapter, but by then FF.net had installed their new little torture device that STEALS MY STARS!! calms down again So I couldn't change it without having to redo the whole chapter, and I really was too lazy for that. Anyway, thanks a lot for telling me. I really appreciate it. I have a few problems, one of them is "this/that" and another is "other than/ except for/unlike". Don't ask me why, there are some things I'll never learn I fear. grimaces And about the word: To be perfectly honest, I never thought about the word. I really didn't. It's something evil, but that's all I can tell you. I've made the experience that it's more fun to not actually say such things... evil grin Oh! Cookie! grabs it Thanks!
Snow-Glory - Well, I think "terrifying" is not really the correct term, but I think I know what you mean. The plan is a little ... stupid, I'll admit that. I don't know yet if Celylith will see the ox again, and I don't know whether or not he'll have the time to name it. But if he has, I'll think of something equally stupid as Wilwarin, something like "Snowflake" or something. g
Galadhriel Vornionien - I'm sorry. I never meant to imply anything like that. It's just something I've always wondered. I know that the Vanyar never left Valinor, which is of course the reason why they never appear in LOTR. So I'd always assumed that Glorfindel was half-Vanya, but somehow I'd always thought he'd be half-Vanya and half something else. I know that stupid, now that I think about it, especially considering that Gondolin was Noldorin and Galadriel's own rather golden hair colour. Was Finarfin blond as well? I never found it or the thing with Glorfindel in any of the books. Is it in the Silmarillion?
Cosmic Castaway - Well, I love to hug online, I don't really like to hug in Real Life. I don't know why. shrugs Well, I hope it wasn't too bad that this chapter was a bit late. I'm very sorry about that, but I reall couldn't make it any sooner. smiles sheepishly ducks the grenade Well - thank you. I guess. g
Kathleen LaCorneille - g I'd be very greateful if you'd refrain from killing him. I think Legolas and his father might get a little upset. And don't kill too many of Wilwarin's family. They might be of different colonies, but they're still her kin - kind of. g I guess you're right though, Legolas and Aragorn will need the help of all the Valar there are to get out of this mess. And Eru himself would be nice, too. g Thanks for the review, and once again, you're very welcome!
Jazmin3 Firewing - I am not a dog. I want to make that clear. I am not a dog. I don't even want to be a dog. If I want to be anything, I want to be a cat. Cat's are ... wonderful. I like cats. But that was absolutely beside the point. grins sheepishly Great you liked it though, thanks for reviewing!
Firnsarnien - I thought about having Aragorn react like that. But then I came to the decision that Aragorn isn't stupid. I think he's able to see when something's the only way out. Well, "my" Aragorn is anyway. He's not a stupid 21st century teenager, after all. g I'm glad you think that about Cendan though, becase I really didn't want him to turn out any other way. It would have been so clichéd if he'd just decided to change sides, wouldn't it? Well, if you define cliffy like that, then every story is a cliffy. That's not a very good definition. shakes head
Joshua Nenya - Natuerlich wollte ich dir eine Dankesmail schreiben! Es ist doch nun mal so, dass Reviews einen jeden Autor extrem gluecklich machen. Das ist wahrscheinlich sogar die Untertreibung des Jahrhunderts. g Wenn ich ganz ehrlich sein soll: Ich habe geheult wie ein Schlosshund, als ich die Galalith-Todesszene geschrieben habe. Es war ganz furchtbar, meine Mutter dachte, jemand waere gestorben. g Und jetzt hat dein Abi ja angefangen. Ist doch gar nicht so schlimm, oder? duckt harte Objekte Oder?
Shauna - Yeah, as I said, this is "The Calm Before the Storm II". Don't worry, the "Everything Goes Straight to Hell" chapter will be here soon as well. g Hmm, I wouldn't call Legolas' plan daring and adventurous. I think the terms "stupid and reckless" are more appropriate. g I hope you'll be able to read the next chapter as well. It's horrible not being able to read something you want. g
Iccle Fairy - Well, this chapter is another of these "talk about what will happen next"-chapters. I don't think that your idea of the plan is stupid. Legolas' plan is rather stupid too, so there is really no need to worry. g Laenro won't find out about Aragorn's identity though, but I have the feeling that he wouldn't be overly impressed either. It's not like him. shrugs
CSI3 - Well, 'soon' is well - a question of definition? This was rather soon ... at least I think so. g I'm glad to hear that you like the story so far, thanks for taking the time to review!
Marbienl - Well, I don't really close my eyes, I just scroll up so I can't see what I've just written. Talk about hypocrisy. g But you're right, I like the comfort part much better. And no, Girion couldn't have tortured the councilman. He's not the type to do that. He'd have killed him or would have handed him over to Glamir, but he wouldn't have done it himself. And the councilman's family would have to be really stupid to fall for that. Besides, I don't think it would have been worth the whole trouble. g They won't find out that Aragorn is Isildur's heir, but I have the feeling that he wouldn't be very impressed if did find out. And yes, Laenro is kind of mean. He's rather focused on keeping his people safe which is rather understandable, I think. g LOL, the things with the screams would have been funny, you're right. Yup, you have a thing for nightmares. And NO, I won't put it in. Sorry. I don't have time. And I don't really want to. g Maybe I'll write a small Elrond-Glorfindel story though. winces Oh no, I got a plot bunny gnawing at my leg. Damn you! shakes fist at Marbienl Oh, and that story you're talking about: We had one like that here a few months ago. It was quite gross, too. About Glorfindel: No one really knows what he is, but judging by his hair colour he has to be at least half-Vanya. Gondolin was a Noldorin city, so he is probably half-Noldo and half-Vanya or something similar. Presumably. g
CrazyLOTRfan - LOL, Cendan the Emotionless - it fits. It really does. And we like him for it. huggles Cendan Don't worry, we'll see a bit of Thesieni's reaction, who is indeed not overly pleased. I know what you mean. My mother's just the same. I swear she likes her car more than me, which is really rather insulting. I wanted to become a pilot for a while as well. I don't have the money to actually do it though, and I wouldn't be able to join the police or military. All that yelling and getting yelled at and obeying people with no intellect and the average IQ of 50 - no, I couldn't do that. I would be a horrible soldier, and I thank God for it every day. g
TrustingFriendship - I have no idea why you'd think that the plan won't work smoothly. I really can't imagine why you'd think something like that. g Yeah, the twins, Aragorn and Legolas are indeed alright - relatively speaking, that is of course. g
Bookworm, .303 - Yeah, that was the general idea. It's always nice to not actually write something but to let people imagine it instead. Don't tell me, I'm evil. g Great you still like it, thanks a lot for all the reviews!
Jera - Yay! Another huge review! Thanks! huggles I'm glad you agree with me on the Cendan thing. I would have thought it rather unlikely that he would simply have decided to switch sides. It isn't something he would do. I think Laenro isn't exactly interested in forging alliances. He doesn't really trust Legolas or Aragorn, and he most certainly doesn't trust Cendan, which is understandable, of course. LOL, no, Aragorn's look doesn't work very well at the moment. Poor ranger. And of course you're right, you have most of my plot figured out after all. I don't think I'll be able to surprise you anymore. g For example the Kevin Costner bit, which will of course NOT happen like that. shakes head No, not at all. I'm glad you liked the scene with Glorfindel. It's a lot easier just to leave it to you people to imagine what exactly is going on. evil grin And just how did you manage to guess just which scenes would be in the next chapter? It's not normal... grrrr Don't worry, the quotes are visible now. Must be one of FF.net's little games. I hate it, did I mention that? g Once again, thanks for the great review!
Aratfeniel - Yes, you got me. I'm planning to kill Glorfindel so Arwen can take his place in the movies. Guilty as charged. g You're right of course, sometimes it's quite nice to be the author. So, sometimes, I can make them do what I want them to. It works not very often, but sometimes it does. g Sorry about not posting on time. I hope this is still 'soon'? innocent smile
Crystal-Rose15 - Oh, is it? Sorry, I didn't know. I ... well, 'got' the movie a long time ago. But I'll still buy it, eventually. I'm weird, I know. g I'm afraid your LOTR knowlege has completely failed you. It's not Sauron. Come on, it can't be Sauron! Read the A/N from last chapter again. No Sauron. shakes head So, no Celylith clone to you, at least not yet. Sorry. g
Jess - Thank you! It's very nice to hear that you like my insane little stories. But no, there won't be any more Aragorn torture in this story, and no Legolas torture either. As I said, battle wounds and so on don't count, but no more torture per se. I don't like to put to much into a story, it tends to make the whole things very ... unbelievable. shrugs Well, that's my opinion at least. So, no broken ranger or elf in this story, sorry. There wouldn't be enough time anyway, but I might put it into another story. Be that as it may, thanks a lot fot the review! I really appreciate it!
Salara - knuddel Na, das ist doch schon mal was! Und wenn man bedenkt, dass ich immer noch euer Kapitel reviewen muss, werde ich mich ganz sicher nicht beschweren... g Die Sache mit der Nachricht: Ich gebe zu, dass ich auf die Idee nie gekommen bin. Ich nehme an, dass jetzt, wo div. Elben und andere Gefangene entkommen sind, du nicht mal 'ne Maus aus Baredlen 'rausschmuggeln koenntest. V.a. muessten Laenro und Co. einen Mann senden, da ich zu bezweifeln wage, dass die Brieftauben haben, und ich glaube nicht, dass Laenro jetzt auf jemanden verzichten koennte. Keine Sorge allerdings, sie schicken Thranduil eine Nachricht, sobald sie alle Fieslinge erledigt haben. g Apropos Maus: Wir wohnen im 4. Stock Altbau, und haben in der Kueche eine Tuer, die per Wendeltreppe in den Keller fuehrt, ich nehme an, so 'ne Dienstbotengeschichte. Gestern sassen alle fuenf Katzen davor, und dreimal darfst du raten, wer reinwollte: Eine dicke fette Maus! Wir haben sie natuerlich nicht reingelassen; die muss echt selbstmordgefaehrdet gewesen sein... g Aber du hast natuerlich Recht, ich plane schon die ganze Zeit, Glorfindel umzubringen, damit Arwen seinen Platz einnehmen kann. PJ hat mir ein Angebot gemacht, das ich nicht ablehnen konnte... g Elladan wird allerdings nicht gleich aufwachen; typischer Peredhil, der einfach dickkoepfig tut, was er will. Wie der Vater, so der Sohn. g Vielen Dank fuer die riesenlange Review!

I want my stars back. I'm fully aware that I sound like a sullen child, but I don't care. I want my stars. The /-thingies are really hard to reach on my keyboard, at least if you want to use them frequently. I hate them. grrr