The plot's thickening like butter! Hope you're all enjoying, I'm having a great time writing it. Did I disclaim already? Well, I own none of these characters, just in case I didn't.
Overcoming Darkness
By Robinyj
Inside the great stone walls of the home of the King of Gondor, five figures sat together in a secluded room. The doors were shut and the guards were being ushered away to ensure the privacy of their speech, for all knew that words of dread and evil would be spoken between them and did not wish word to leak out to the citizens of Minas Tirith in fear of causing panic. The room had no windows and was lit only by several candles placed on the center table, and the blaze of the fire behind them. Also, if one looked close enough they could see a faint glow in the skin of one of the room's occupants.
Aragorn was standing by the doorway, dismissing the final guard, Meretis, from the hallway.
"I am certain we will be fine, Meretis. Now be on your way and ensure we are not disturbed." The man was stubborn with loyalty to protect his king but finally consented reluctantly and left the halls. Aragorn turned and closed the doors behind him with a sigh. Seeing that everyone that was needed was in attendance he strode to the table and sat next to Arwen, taking her hand absently.
"Now that we are all here, and Legolas and Gimli have sufficiently embarrassed and threatened my guards for the evening, we should begin to discuss this evil. The Mornarad, as Legolas tells us," Aragorn started, beginning the conversation that would hopefully reveal some answers to the strange occurrences in his land.
"Time to bear your secrets, elf," Gimli taunted, but was also extremely curious as to what his friend had to say about the cause of the death of the land. "What do you know about this darkness?"
"I know a good deal, but what I know was learned many centuries ago and time may have marred the true facts. I would like if Harsol or Arwen may first explain to us all that has happened here since we have been away. Then mayhap I will recall some greater details of the Mornarad," Legolas requested, looking to Arwen and Harsol to see which would answer him.
Harsol leaned forward. He felt somewhat awkward in this group, for clearly the other four people in the room had known each other for many years and were all very close. It was strange to be the outsider, especially in such high company as his king, queen, and the honoured elf and dwarf guests. Still, he had been asked to speak and would not shy away from such things.
"The first signs of trouble with the land began nearly three weeks ago," Harsol began and then told the tale in length. "That is when the cattle began dying. Clearly they were being killed by men of some sort. Every time it was the same; the heart was cut from the beast and the strange symbol would be marred into the flesh or burnt into the nearby ground. None could find any reason for the crimes and we attempted to dismiss them, but they did not stop, and then the sky began to change." He paused for a moment, and a new voice took up the tale.
"I felt the first whispers of this darkness eighteen days ago. I have counted each day since because it grows louder and more powerful with each passing sunset, and every life that is taken seems to strengthen it," Arwen announced, her eyes grave but voice firm with what she knew to be truth. "If something is not done those whispers will quickly become a scream that all will hear."
There was silence for a moment as Aragorn looked deep into the eyes of his wife, ensuring her without words that thing would be set right. Legolas and Gimli merely took this in, having faith in the Lady Undomiel's feelings. Legolas not only had faith in what Arwen felt, he agreed full heartedly, for he too felt the tendrils of darkness that had crept into every living thing in the land.
After a moment Harsol continued, having not finished his account.
"There were thirteen cattle reported killed in all. The morning after the final death was when the land truly began to die. The plants wilted, the sky paled and the sun grew weaker, as though shrouded from us. None knew the cause and many farmers came to the city for answers. The next evening came and no cattle were slaughtered. It was now the citizens of Minas Tirith that were being targeted for death. Every murder was the same – the hearts cut out and the symbol drawn in blood or fire. Nine have been lost to us so far, and we can find no connection between any. They came from different areas, different homes, were of different ages and genders. And every time we find another victim, that damn symbol is there, mocking us with each added lightning bolt. Taunting us with their victory and the fact that these monsters continue to elude us!" Harsol stood suddenly, pushed his chair back and began to pace the room. He had become uncharacteristically impassioned during his speech, recalling each body he had found and the frustration he had felt knowing that murderers ran free on his streets.
Aragorn stood and took the man's shoulder. Harsol avoided his gaze, embarrassed to have lost control in such a way before his king.
"Forgive me Lord Elessar, I did not …"
Aragorn smiled and shook his head, understanding, "There is nothing to forgive. Sit, but control yourself. We still have much to discuss."
Harsol did as instructed and sat down, the last of his anger dissipating with a sigh. All in the room sorted through this new information, shuffling it in their minds and trying to make some connection. It was Legolas that finally spoke, directing his words to Harsol.
"The last animal to be killed, it was a calf was it not? Most likely the youngest in the surrounding area," Legolas asked, meeting Harsol's gaze with a look of such intensity that the man had to turn and stare into the fire. He nodded in response.
"Yes, it was a calf, only a few days old. How did you know this?" Harsol questioned, becoming suspicious only because he knew so little of the king's 'honoured guests.'
"A fragment of memory only, which I seem to recall about the Mornarad," Legolas replied, turning his eyes back toward the floor as he once more returned to his thoughts.
"Perhaps if you enlighten the rest of us with your broken memories we can piece together what you are obviously unable to," Gimli said impatiently when the elf remained silent for several minutes.
"I only try to organize my thoughts, mellon-nin," Legolas replied absently. It at first appeared he would not return the dwarf's jest but then added, "Besides, memory cannot be split and sealed together like your simple rock and stone. These matters are clearly out of your depth to comprehend."
"I comprehend things that make sense, Elf. Your riddles about 'nature being ill' and 'evil approaching' are enough to frustrate even the most patient of people, of which I am not known to be part of. Now cease these dramatic gestures that you elves so adore and speak plainly to us. What is happening here?" Gimli demanded, beginning to lose patience with the prince.
During the exchange Harsol had briefly braced himself for the outbreak of a fierce argument between the two companions, and was surprised when the matter was so quickly dropped. Are these two friends or enemies? He wondered, but even the elf and dwarf themselves were not always sure of the answer to this question.
Legolas smiled briefly at his friend's behaviour and then stood to better meet the eyes of all who sat around him.
"I remember learning of the Mornarad in the libraries of my home many centuries ago. I did not speak at first because I wondered if perhaps they were only fiction, a tale told to the young ones to scare them – "if you do not respect your elders the Mornarad will come for you" – but with the telling of what has happened here, I know my recollections to be true. The Mornarad are men, regular men you see each day. They may work in the stables, or here in this very palace. They have no distinguishing markings or characteristics. In all manners they are invisible to us. What makes the Mornarad dangerous is their quest, which they seem to be fulfilling even now, and that whom they follow."
Legolas paused briefly to stare into the fire behind him and partly to anger Gimli with another 'dramatic gesture' on his part. He did not expect the soft whisper behind him from the Lady Arwen, practically laced with disgust.
"Kirithnin."
Aragorn's eyes widened with this name and his memory also suddenly returned to him of where he had seen the strange symbol of the Mornarad before.
"The destroyer of life," he said rigidly, quoting text from memory. "I recall now, I heard Lord Elrond speak of him when I was a child. He was in secret council with Glorfindel, but I was young and listened anyway. They were going through an ancient text that I later chanced to look at. They said Kirithnin could destroy Middle-Earth in a way that many may still live but wish they were dead." The king's eyes sought Legolas, who nodded in confirmation of what was said.
"He is an ancient evil, and I speak of him only as a living being because there is no true way to describe what Kirithnin means. He is evil and perhaps sentient, but has no body or form that we may fight. He attacks in the form that you now see in this land. He is a virus and a plague, destroying all the natural beauty of the world. Even now he is spreading through Minas Tirith in the trees and the soil and I do not doubt that he will shortly spread his reach further, and thus poison all living things in Middle-Earth," Legolas's words were heavy with dread but once they were said he lowered his eyes, once more contemplating their plight. It did not go unnoticed when he abruptly leaned against the table and sighed heavily, his features constricted with fatigue as he absently rubbed a hand over his face.
"Legolas? Are you well?" Aragorn asked, standing to make a closer inspection of his friend. It was strange for him to appear so tired, especially if he had not recently taken part in some battle.
The elf looked up and straightened, surprised by the question, and quickly schooled his features to normal and waved off his friend's concern, "I worry only. This evil burdens me with its severity. It would be best if we discussed our options for combating it."
Aragorn nodded, looked over his friend once more, and returned to the table. Then a knowing look swiftly passed between the prince of Mirkwood and queen of Minas Tirith, and much was said even without words, but it went unseen by their companions.
"Before we discuss stopping it, what's causing it exactly?" Gimli interjected. "This group of men wishes to plunge Middle-Earth into darkness. Well, for what purpose, and how are they doing it?"
"Their purpose is power only," Arwen replied, her memory of the Mornarad also restored by Legolas's presentation of all he knew. "When the death and darkness of Kirithnin is completely spread across this land, there will be a select few that are able to control it and allow life to exist where everywhere else there is only death. This select few will be those men that summon this evil and help it spread. They will have rule over all living things for they alone will choose what lives."
"As for how they are doing this, I am uncertain," Legolas admitted. "Clearly these murders are their doing and connected to what is happening to the land, but I have no knowledge on how to stop them or how their power is drawn and spread. For this reason I ask that I may be given access to your libraries Aragorn. I know they are extensive and there may be valuable information to be found inside."
Aragorn gave his consent without question.
"Do we know where Gandalf is?" The king then asked, knowing the wizard would be a great asset to them in their time of need.
"The last we heard he was in Lothlorien and traveling north," Harsol said, desperate to contribute in some way.
"But that was nearly a month ago," Arwen added. "I have already sent riders in search of him, to all the places I can think he may be, but there is no way to know when he may receive such messages, or be able to respond."
"At least we can hope he is on his way," Aragorn said with a sigh.
"But we must also assume we are on our own," Gimli added, not willing to place all their hopes on Gandalf's arrival, though he had endless faith in the wizard's abilities.
Legolas had not contemplated where Gandalf might be, but now that he considered it, he could not fathom the wizard being unaware of the plight looming over Gondor. "This is no idle threat we deal with. Surely he must sense this peril somehow, in the trees or the wind. It is as though the earth is crying." The elf exclaimed with frustration, and resisted the urge to run a hand over his forehead once more as he again felt the strange fatigue strike him.
Aragorn looked upon the elf with sympathy, knowing that he felt the darkness of this evil more than any of them, "If he is so far north, in the Shire or beyond, the death that Kirithnin spreads will not reach him for many weeks. He is most likely unaware of our troubles."
With a sigh Legolas nodded and sat at the table once more.
"Do we at least know how long this evil will continue to spread, and how many more innocents must die?" Harsol asked passionately, not able to sit and discuss death and evil as easily as his companions appeared to do so.
"The darkness will spread until it has consumed all living things, unless it is stopped. As for the murders in Minas Tirith, I have no knowledge on why they are happening, let alone when they will end. I am sorry," Legolas said sincerely, respecting the man's desire to protect the inhabitants of the city. "Aragorn, if you believe us finished, I would like to begin to search through your libraries."
Aragorn nodded, "Of course, Harsol will show you the way. I will join you later if I am able, but I fear my duties will keep me occupied for some hours."
"It is well, I can easily search on my own," Legolas replied, but was denied by Gimli.
"Oh no you won't. I'm coming too," the dwarf announced, standing up quickly and following the departing elf.
Legolas appeared honestly confused and said without jest or mockery, "Gimli, I will be reading through ancient scrolls for perhaps hours. You will most likely find your skills more useful elsewhere in the city. Perhaps on patrol with the guards."
The dwarf just shook his head, his mind made up, "Nay, I'm coming with you. You say this Kirithnin has no form I can fight with my axe, then I will fight him with the power of knowledge."
"That is not something you are used to," Legolas said, his voice still sincere.
"I know, but it's never too late to learn," Gimli answered smugly, then strode from the room ahead of his companion.
"The true danger may be in trying to teach you," Legolas muttered, but followed closely behind as Harsol led the way down the hall, showing them to the great library which was many flights below them.
Now only Arwen and Aragorn remained in the conference room. The king looked at his wife, stricken by the worry etched into the fine features of her face. But then she turned to him and smiled and her beauty was at once restored. He sat beside her, brightening her face even more.
"I am happy you have returned. This evil is horrible and your people have suffered under it. Your return will bring new light to their hearts, that none other could bring," Arwen noted, running a hand along his cheek.
Aragorn did the same and she sighed and closed her eyes at his touch, "And what of you my love? You are so weary, perhaps you should rest."
She nodded, unable to deny the truth to her husband, "I have found sleep elusive since I first heard the dark whispers, my heart has been so heavy with worry for this kingdom and land. But you have returned, and I feel safe once more. I will retire, for a short time to regain my strength. Take care and worry not for me but for your country. It needs you more."
With her dark hair flowing behind her, she left the room as well and disappeared down the hall. Aragorn sighed. He had wished so badly to return home to rest after the horrible experience of Brelan, and now he found more trouble in his own land than he had in the distant country. It was truly fatiguing but he could not afford rest at this time. He knew there were many things that required his attention and he was now without excuse not to begin to face them. Just as he stood to leave he heard footsteps approaching and Harsol reappeared in the doorway.
"Have Legolas and Gimli found their way?" Aragorn asked, noting how quickly he had returned.
"Yes, I had a servant lead them for I wished to speak with you. Before we take any further action I feel I must ask, what has happened to Risorine?" Harsol questioned, immediately bringing up old wounds of betrayal in Aragorn's mind. The king had not wished to deliver the news in this way, but the guard had asked him directly and he felt he owed him an answer.
"Risorine is dead. He perished in Brelan," Aragorn replied, sitting back down and settling in. Harsol was noticeably stricken. His mouth began to move to form questions, but Aragorn cut him off, motioning to the chair before him. "Sit Harsol, and I will explain all. But the tale is lengthy and many parts you will most likely not believe."
The stunned man nodded, still unable to speak, and listened intently to all Aragorn had to say. It was hard for the king to relive the pain of Brelan so soon after arriving home, but there was little to be done about it. The telling was indeed lengthy and went late into the day. Harsol remained stoic and said nothing throughout the telling, for Aragorn was sure to include all important details. The guard attempted to school his features so as not to reflect the grief, astonishment and betrayal he also felt, but failed for the most part. He was stricken quite hard by Risorine's betrayal, having been a friend of the captain. Aragorn tried to exclude all emotion from his voice as well, and did so much better than Harsol. He hoped by the time he finished its telling, Legolas would have found something of use to them in the archives beneath his home. Unless of course, his search was hindered in some way.
"It wouldn't kill them to dust around here every now and then. Impossible to read these things. Most of it is chicken scratches. Probably written by children or dictated by some other illiterate fool. Now in a dwarven library …"
Legolas tried desperately not to roll his eyes as the dwarf behind him continued to complain as he sorted through scroll and parchment in the dark library. He knew it was a bad idea for Gimli to help him, for he was more of a hindrance to be sure, and this was simply the proof he had worried of finding. Truly, the dwarf did not even know what he was searching for beyond the words Mornarad, Kirithnin, and the strange symbol they had observed, but still he looked through each scroll carefully, complaining when it was fragile and becoming angered if it was illegible, or Valar forbid, in Elvish, a tongue he did not speak or read. The writings that Gimli was able to decipher he quickly became bored with and often returned to the table Legolas sat at, peering over his shoulder and asking the same question every time.
"Found anything yet?"
Legolas's answer so far had always been a polite no, but he knew he would shortly lose his temper with his friend and most likely banish him and his so called help.
The only light in the room was provided by a single candle on each of the four nearby tables. The elf would have preferred a bit more light to ease his discomfort at being so far underground, but with so much ancient knowledge filling each shelf and space in the room, he knew open flame was not a thing to have in excess.
The two had been searching for several hours now and still had nothing to show for it, except perhaps a growing gap in their friendship as Gimli asked yet again if Legolas had found anything.
"My friend," Legolas replied curtly, grinding his teeth to hold his temper. "If I do find anything of interest, anything at all, be it about Kirithnin, the Mornarad or perhaps some wonderful recipe for a dwarvish meat pie that has been lost for these many ages, I promise you, you will be the first to know."
The near loss of control in the elf's voice and the deadly gleam intensifying in his eye did not escape Gimli's notice and he smartly turned back to his scrolls without further comment. But when enough time had passed, and he thought Legolas sufficiently calmed down, he did attempt a true conversation.
"Do we search for anything specific, my friend? Elvish, common, symbols, a name perhaps?" Gimli asked, finally admitting to himself that he was at a loss as to what he was doing.
"We search for answers," Legolas replied, his eyes quickly scouring the paper he held to the candle light.
"Answers, of course," Gimli grumbled, recognizing that his friend was in no mood for conversation. Needing to stretch his legs he walked through the aisles for some time, looking at the titles of several books, and glancing quickly over parchments he had no real hope of finding answers in. He eventually came to a corner where a small desk was placed with a chair that looked as though it had been built when Elrond was but an elfling. Gimli picked up a candle to better light his way and carefully looked over several papers that were on the table. They were very ancient and did not look as though they had been touched for many years. Perhaps he had found something of interest, he hoped, but alas, his hopes were crushed as he looked over the first page and saw the writing to be elvish once more.
How can that damn language be everywhere? It is even in abundance in the halls of Men! What is this world coming to? Gimli pondered as he shuffled through the papers anyway. A page in the middle caught his eye – it had been written in a bright red ink that remained unfaded over time, making the words on the page stand out incredibly. Then Gimli smiled.
He could not read the words gracing the page, but the symbol drawn on the lower half of it was quite clear; the symbol of the Mornarad.
Gimli huffed with pride and immediately ran back to the front of the room with his treasure in one hand and candle still in the other.
"Ha ha! Legolas, I have found something! And you said I was hopeless! Well these dwarf eyes have found something your own could not find! What have you to say …"
"Gimli, watch out for that chair!"
"Ah! Damn these lights," the dwarf swore as he fell to the ground, having not seen the fallen chair in front of him. Then he swore again, louder and more fiercely than before for during his fall the flame of his candle had come too close to the edge of his scroll and now his precious prize was dwindling before his eyes as it burned. Gimli immediately began to blow on the paper, trying to save as much as he could. The symbol he had spotted remained intact, as did the writing above, but a few sentences had also been written below the illustration, and now they were lost to the fire except for a broken word or two that had narrowly escaped the flame, and most likely made little sense without the surrounding context.
Gimli cringed as he looked upon the partially destroyed document, and then glanced up Legolas, shrugging, "It may not have been that important."
"It is well," Legolas said bearing no malice towards him, and held out his hand. Gimli immediately handed him the parchment, but the elf shook his head, placed the paper down and put out his hand once more to help the dwarf off the floor. Gimli smiled and gladly accepted. Then he saw Legolas turn to examine the information he had found and his smile faded as the elf frowned.
"Is it badly damaged?"
Legolas shook his head, "It is well enough to read, only a sentence or two was lost along the bottom. Were there more papers with this one?"
Gimli nodded, having not thought to bring the rest since they had not had the picture he was looking for.
"Could you get them? This is out of context, most likely there are pages before and after it that will be useful." Legolas said, supplying Gimli with hope that he had not destroyed too much precious information, especially if there were more pages of text that he would deliver undamaged.
"Of course," Gimli nearly ran off again, but decided speed was not the greatest thing to bear in the dimly lit, crowded room, so walked back to the table. He grabbed the rest of the papers on it and brought them back for his friend's inspection. Legolas still appeared to be deep in thought concerning the first page, but smiled when Gimli brought the rest. He immediately sorted through them and found the preceding page to his and read them together. The elf's features quickly turned grim as he read, but he also looked satisfied.
"This is what we needed. Come, we should take these to Aragorn," Legolas suggested, already making his way up the stairs, completely engrossed in the pages in front of him. Gimli was not far behind, the small bundle of remaining papers in his arms. The stairs were long and winding, but well lit thanks to torches that were mounted in the wall every few feet.
They were halfway to the top when the power of Kirithnin truly struck the elf for the first time. Legolas had been climbing the stairs without thought as he read over the papers in his hands when suddenly the feeling of fatigue he had been combating the entire day intensified twenty fold. A loud gasp escaped his lips as his head inexplicably began to swim, his vision was dotted with spots and his legs buckled beneath him as his body became numb and nearly all his energy was stolen from him. The attack was sudden and unexpected, so much so that the elf was in mid-step when it struck. He immediately tried to step back, but his balance had all but disappeared and his legs could barely support him. His foot missed the stair and then he was falling, suddenly too tired and his reflexes too slowed to save himself.
Behind the elf, Gimli inexplicably began to feel as though something was wrong, and looked up from the scrolls he carried.
"Elf, did you … Legolas!" Gimli dropped the papers in his arms and ran forward when he saw Legolas stumble. The dwarf managed to climb the few steps between them in time and caught the elf before he hit the hard stone, but the sudden dead weight threw off Gimli's balance as well and soon they were both falling down the winding stairs. Gimli grunted in pain and tried to brace his fall and hold on to his friend, while Legolas remained motionless and unresponsive to what happened around him.
Thankfully, Gimli still had enough wits about him to try and stop their fall. With one arm still gripping his friend tightly, the dwarf managed to roll himself up high enough to grab on to the railing that was now above their heads. They stopped suddenly as their momentum was halted and Gimli grunted as he felt his back impact painfully against the edge of the stair. There was a loud echo of two other objects striking and Gimli cringed as he turned to see Legolas's head had also collided solidly against the marble floor.
Still not releasing the elf, Gimli commented, "Even I felt that one, laddie."
Legolas moaned then and seemed to be regaining command of himself. He rolled over and half sat up, eyes closed as he cradled the back of his head with his hand and tried not to move as the waves of nausea rolled over him.
"Legolas? Elf? Don't be so quick to move, that lump on your head will be the size of your ego soon enough, and feel just as good as being shot by one of your arrows," Gimli said, his light words laced with concern for his friend. He knew elves did not just lose their balance for no reason and that had been a tremendous fall, for both of them. Something had to be wrong with his friend, and with the times so dark that thought worried him.
The eyes of the elf opened for a moment. He looked at Gimli, then up the stairs they had fallen down, and then shut them again as he continued to shift and tried to work out in his mind what had happened. Slowly, he took a deep breath and then he reached a hand out, his other still clutching his skull for it throbbed greatly, and then he grabbed onto the railing and started to stand.
"I am well my friend, thank you," his words were forced as though his mind was not yet ready to create speech. He gripped the railing tightly as he tried to regain his balance. Gimli was instantly by his side, helping to support his friend.
"Easy lad, you had a bad fall."
But Legolas would not be helped. He shook off the dwarf's support and said only, "We have to get this information to Aragorn."
Then he slowly began to move and pick up the papers they had scattered along the stairwell. The elf seemed well enough now so Gimli allowed him to walk away on his power but the dwarf was still very confused, and somewhat sore, about what had happened and took hold of the elf's wrist as he leaned over to pick up another piece of parchment.
"Aragorn will get all this information in due time, what I want to know is what just happened and why?" Gimli demanded, not about to have his sore back to have been for nothing.
Legolas looked honestly confused for a moment and then shrugged, attempting nonchalance, "I merely lost my footing mellon-nin, I was too concentrated on the scrolls you brought me and missed the stair."
Then he walked up a few more steps, continuing to pick up papers. Gimli followed closely behind and stood in front of him, not to be ignored.
"I may jest and deny your true abilities, but we both know that an elf does not just lose their balance, no matter how lost in thought he may be. So I will ask you again, what just happened to you?"
Legolas seemed honestly annoyed by the questioning and impatient to move past it, but there was also a noticeable weariness in his eyes and movements, as if each step was being forced through great fatigue. With a sigh he finally replied, "There is no time to explain such things. We must make haste."
"I think we have lots of time," Gimli began, resolute once more to get answers, but was surprised when Legolas turned on him, his voice screaming with impatience and almost rage.
"What time do you think we have, son of Gloin? Time to sit around and bicker over petty things while Gondor and perhaps all of Middle-earth dies around us? We do not have such time. Even now the Mornarad are gaining strength. Even now the darkness grows thicker and yet here we remain, doing nothing. There has been another murder in this city, - did you know that? - and with every hour that passes Kirithnin spreads further and further, and we have precious time to stop them. Perhaps not enough. So, if it pleases you Master Dwarf, I will continue with my duties, as I have promised, and do all I can to stop this darkness, before it is too late."
Then Legolas began up the stairs once more, leaving behind a stunned dwarf. After digesting Legolas's words, Gimli snapped out his stupor and pursued his friend, having more questions than ever.
"What do you mean there has been another murder? How? Where?"
Legolas stopped and leaned against the railing, seemingly too tired to argue. The energy his anger had fuelled in him had quickly faded, and left him strangely weary once more, "I do not know."
Gimli huffed, not pleased with that response, and believed the elf was only trying to distract him, to keep him from asking more questions about his health, "Then how can you be so sure someone has died?"
Legolas turned and fixed a weary but stern stare on his friend, then answered plainly, almost regretfully, "Because I can feel it."
Then he turned away, hastened up the stairs and disappeared from sight.
TBC
More soon. Stick around!
So, who's picked up their RotK DVD? I got mine, and feel like such a horrible fan, I'm so busy with graduation stuff that I haven't had time to watch the special features or anything. Are there any good Orli interviews or anything I should watch first?
Here's to my fabulous reviewers, that give me the strength and inspiration to do what I do. Whatever it is that I do – we're still trying to work that part out.
wellduh …- Heroes don't get breaks, sorry. Unless it's like broken bones, they can have lots of those. Don't pretend that you mind though. I know you love an exhausted Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, fighting evil to their last breath. They probably love it too. Thanks for reviewing.
Star-Stallion – Ouch. Were you slapped hard? I have no worries about that really, none of my friends even know what a fanfiction is, let alone know I write them. Oh yeah, the symbols aren't a good thing, watch out for those.
Sabrina – I like the three of them together too, although I don't mind a good Leggy/Aragorn friendship adventure fic. I just find it more interesting if you can have all three of them, because their personalities are so different and conflicting sometimes. And they're so close to each other that it makes for good angst too. All three heroes have a rather large part in this fic, though I do lean towards Legolas for the most part.
Cosmic Castaway – "Three musketeers" that's awesome! I'm probably going to start calling them that now. Updates will be coming, but the next two weeks or so are going to be hectic for me. I will try though.
LOTRFaith – Glad you like my Arwen. You got her spot on. She won't be running around with a sword or anything, although I'm sure she's very capable. Don't really know much about the Aztecs, I just always hear about cults cutting out hearts – it seemed the thing to do.
Templa Otmena – man, evil little summary, evil little cliffies, and evil little hints. I'm just an all around evil person I guess. I do recall your pleading words in the Buffy reviews, but I'm glad to see you here too. The Buffy one will get finished someday … in a galaxy far, far away.
Snow-Glory – I may have to ban you from reviewing, you seem to be awfully close to a lot of my plot points. I will have to throw in misleading clues to screw you up. Wow! SoM was your first story ever? That's so cool. I feel like a legacy or something. Make sure you stick around then, there's lots of good angst, and h/c fun to come.
What's wrong with Leggy? What's wrong with Gondor? What did Gimli burn? These answers and more, all in the next chapter, same LotR time, same LotR fanfiction.
Reviews are appreciated. Robinyj