Legolas sat down on the edge of his bed, and absent-mindedly rubbed his
left shoulder. He had been hurting both physically and emotionally since
leaving the Fellowship, but now he was in agony. It felt as though he were
being clubbed over and over again, in exactly the same spot, yet there was
no explanation for it.
"But why should you deserve one?" whispered the Prince, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "It is only fair that you go through this. After all,-
Legolas broke off as he was suddenly overcome with dry, harsh coughs. His chest rose and fell swiftly, exploding in pain beneath the surface. He tried to cry out, but nothing happened except more coughs. All he could do was hold his hands tightly against his chest, to try and force the pain away.
As suddenly as they had started, the coughs faded into nothing, and all that could be heard now, were the Elf's short gasps of pain and fear. Yes, he was scared of what had just happened, and that in itself frightened him, for it had been a long time since he had been afraid of anything.
Legolas raised the back of his trembling hand to his mouth, and held it against his lips for a minute, trying to steady his breathing. It did not slow though, so he let his arm fall back down to rest on the bed. Looking down, the Prince's heart skipped a beat. His hand was porcelain white as always, yet smeared across it, was a crimson stain: blood, his blood.
"Valar..." muttered Legolas. He started down at the precious liquid, then realised with a thrill of horror, that he could taste something coppery in his mouth.
Slowly, he moved across from the bed, and stood in front of a dusty mirror on the wall. Since waking up and realising where he was all those days back, Legolas had not dared to even glance at his own reflection. He did now though, and the sight shocked him. His once golden hair was now dull and lifeless; his skin was no longer pale. Now it was a ghostly white, and the sparkle that normally graced his eyes, was gone. The most noticeable thing though, was the line of crimson liquid trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Legolas stared at his reflection for a brief moment, before swiping his hand across his lips, removing all traces of blood. He then turned to the small table, and grabbed the goblet that stood there. He drank slowly, relaxing a little as the cool water calmed the pain at the back of his throat.
The door swung open then, and Calaen came in. He had just sent his army up to the village, after hearing news of the approaching patrol from Rivendell, but was oblivious to the additional soldiers come from Mirkwood. He was also unaware that a great number of his men were injured, some dead.
"Legolas, gwador nin," said Calaen cheerfully. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Hmm."
Calaen smiled, and nodded slowly. "That is good. Listen, I think it best that you start moving around a little. It may help you regain your old strength, don't you think?"
"Hmm."
"Come then. I will show you a little of my stronghold," said Calaen, pulling his brother across to the door, like a child eager to show off a new toy. Legolas closed his eyes though, and reached out, searching for something to grab onto.
"What is it?"
"My head...everything...black..." whispered Legolas, forgetting, in his pain, who he was talking to.
Calaen regarded the younger Elf for a moment, before reaching out and touching the back of his hand to his forehead. Despite the perspiration covering his body, Legolas was shivering violently, his lips trembling and his shoulders shaking.
"Tell me what is wrong," said Calaen sharply. "You are ill, that much is clear. But it should not be so, for Elves are immune to any sickness. What's wrong, Legolas?"
The Prince sank down to the ground as he was racked with coughs, each one more painful than the last. Blood spilt from his mouth, and trickled down his throat, leaving a cherry red stain.
"By the Valar," whispered Calaen, dropping to the ground. He grabbed Legolas by the front of his tunic, but realised with a jolt of anger, that the younger Elf had lost consciousness. "If this ruins any of my plans, then I will make you pay."
Calaen hissed in fury as he tried in vain to remember all that he had been taught as a child. He had studied various illnesses and their cures in his lessons, but it was not long before he had ceased to pay attention, thinking that he was being taught nothing of great importance.
"Damn it," muttered the dark haired Elf.
.............................................................................................................
"Are you sure it is this way?" asked Thranduil anxiously, as he, Aragorn, Gandalf, and fifteen of Mirkwood's finest warriors ran after Aradan through the halls of Calaen's stronghold.
"Yes, I am positive. I was told of everything before I left, and not meaning to cause any worry, Your Highness, but Legolas was in no fit state to be moved very much," said Aradan apologetically.
Thranduil cursed and shook his head in irritation. "I swear by all the Gods that I will kill him, and this time he will not get away."
Aradan made to reply, but stopped dead in his tracks as he heard something up ahead; a fearful whisper, a sharp voice, and then someone coughing. It was not just he who had caught the sounds, for the others had also tensed. Thranduil's face was darkened with anger; Gandalf had tightened his grip on his staff; Aragorn narrowed his eyes; and the Mirkwood patrol pulled their bowstrings menacingly. There was one, however, a fair haired Elf, who remained impassive in everything that he did.
"It has been many long years since I have heard both those voices, but I would recognize them anywhere," he said calmly. "That is Legolas and Calaen."
Thranduil twirled his Elven blade in his fingers, and glared furiously at the corner they would soon be rounding. "Come. I will not leave my son any longer."
.............................................................................................................
Calaen shook his head in anger, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. This was absolutely perfect. There was a good chance that Legolas could die, and that would surely destroy everything that had been worked for.
"Well, well, well, we meet again," said a sudden cool voice from behind him.
Calaen jumped to his feet and whirled around, heart nearly stopping as he saw fifteen arrows pointed his way. He looked into ice blue eyes for a moment, stunned, but he quickly fixed a calm expression on his face. That faded though, as he saw who stood beside the Elven-king of Mirkwood.
"Surprised?" asked the stranger.
"What...how...but you...no...this is not possible," whispered Calaen, shaking his head slowly, in disbelief. "How can this be? No, this...this is not real."
"I can assure you it is," sneered Thranduil, as his men rushed forwards and grabbed the defenceless Elf. "Take him outside; make sure he does not escape. I want him alive...for the time being."
Calaen growled low in his throat as he was dragged away. The Mirkwood soldiers were far from gentle, furious at the treatment of their Prince. Thranduil meanwhile, had dropped to the ground next to Legolas, and was running a hand down the side of his face.
"Ion-nin, what happened to you?" he whispered. "What did they do to you?"
"He has a punctured lung," said Aragorn grimly, shaking his head. "He should've been treated properly on the day he broke his ribs."
Thranduil closed his eyes in despair for a brief moment, before flicking his gaze up to the fair haired Elf who had spoken earlier. "Is there anything you can do for him? Please, you said that-
"I know what I said, but I can do nothing whilst underground in this dark and evil place. If we get outside in time, then yes, I should be able to heal him," cut in the Elf. "Come, we must move swiftly."
The King nodded, and lifted Legolas into his arms. He was surprised at how easy that had been, for although the Prince had always been both slender and slightly smaller than other Elves, he was now painfully thin, and the weight of his body worried Thranduil.
"I cannot bring the dead back to the world of the living," warned the fair haired Elf. "Do you understand that? My powers are strong, but can only stretch to a certain limit. I can cure anything with my hands, but I cannot bring the-
"I know, but he still lives," said Thranduil desperately. "Legolas still lives, doesn't he?"
As they ran through the dark tunnels lit only by flickering candles, Aragorn looked down at his unconscious friend, and grimaced. "He still lives, but only just. If not treated after five minutes, a punctured lung can prove fatal, and we know not how long he has been in darkness."
"It cannot have been long, else he would not still be here," said Aradan quietly. "But look, there is light up ahead. We are close to the exit."
Gandalf glanced across at the young Elf, and sighed inwardly. No matter what Calaen had ever done, he was still the boy's father, and it must've been hard for Aradan to stand in the shadows, and watch as he was dragged away.
"Come, lay him down over here," said the fair haired Elf, after what seemed an eternity.
Thranduil blinked in surprise, for so caught up in his thoughts had he been, that he had not noticed they were no longer underground. Trees surrounded them, and the grass they stood on was lush and green. It was a strong contrast to Calaen's stone walls.
"Lift his head so that he does not choke on his own blood," directed Aragorn.
"He is not breathing," muttered Thranduil, though he did as the Ranger instructed. "Damn it, he is not going to pull through."
Gandalf stepped forward and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You should have learnt from your past experiences, never to lose hope. If you keep believing, and do not let go of your faith, then Legolas will live."
Thranduil closed his eyes, but nodded resolutely as the fair haired Elf knelt on the floor, and placed both hands on Legolas' chest. His gaze never once left the Prince's white face, and without blinking, he began to whisper softly. Everyone tried to catch what was being said, but no-one save Gandalf could understand the words.
"Come on," whispered Aragorn.
The healer pushed slightly harder on Legolas' chest, his hands visibly trembling. His calm and collected manner had diminished, and he was now clearly fearful, with perspiration on his brow. His lips were still moving, yet no sound came from them.
"This is not working!" exploded Thranduil, slamming his free hand on the ground.
Gandalf crossed his arms, and looked down sternly at the King. "Did you listen to anything at all that I said? No, I doubt it. I know it is had, but just try and be patient."
Thranduil was just about to reply to that, but the healer sat back on his heels, and lowered his eyes to the ground. He pulled his hands away from Legolas' body, and let out a deep breath. Whether if was of relief or defeat, no-one knew.
"Oh no," whispered Thranduil, fearing the worst.
The fair haired Elf shook his head violently. "No, he still lives. I have healed him as best I can, but he is not entirely out of danger. He must get to Rivendell very soon, but I fear that two days is too long to wait. If I go immediately with him, we can make it in one day."
"No, absolutely not," said Thranduil sharply. "I am not going to leave Legolas alone yet. Valar, he nearly died. I will ride with you."
"My horse can travel at a far greater speed than any others here, except maybe Mithrandir's," argued the fair haired Elf. "I understand that you wish to accompany Legolas, but there is work to be done here. What about Calaen?"
Thranduil narrowed his eyes, but nodded slowly. "You speak truly, though I hate to say it. Alright, take Legolas to Rivendell. I will follow in a short while, for it will not take me long to deal with Calaen."
"You are going to kill him?" asked Aradan quietly.
"Take a quick look at what he has done to my son!" snapped Thranduil. Sighing, he wiped away some of the blood from Legolas' lips. "No, Calaen must die, and if you are so desperate to say good-bye to your precious ruler, then that is fine."
Aradan turned away as the fair haired Elf easily lifted Legolas into his arms. He did want to see Calaen again. After all, for many years, he had been the only family around. But he knew that he could be throwing away a chance of ever becoming close to Thranduil and Legolas.
"Ride hard," Thranduil was now saying to the Elf carrying his son. "I hope your horse is as swift as you say, for Legolas will not last unless he gets to Rivendell."
"There is no need to worry. I will travel with all speed, and I can easily buy Legolas some more time if needs be," replied the fair haired Elf. "Even now, the touch of my fingers on his body is making him just that little bit stronger."
Thranduil locked eyes with the healer and smiled vaguely, before flicking his gaze down to Legolas' face. The Prince was still unconscious, but his chest now rose and fell. The movement was still weak and nearly un- noticeable, but definitely there. Blood had ceased tumbling from his lips, though they were stained a cherry red.
"You must leave," said Gandalf gently. "Thranduil, you will see Legolas again soon, so do not fret."
Inclining his head, the healer turned swiftly, and slipped through the trees, making no noise as he moved. He travelled swiftly, yet his feet made no imprint on the leaves, which did not rustle.
"I never imagined we would be in the same situation as we were all those years back," said Thranduil quietly, looking down at the slowly drying blood on his sleeve. "I never imagined that Legolas would have to go through so much pain again. I tried to protect him, but-
"You did not fail," cut in Gandalf sternly. "Do not blame yourself for anything that has happened. Even if you had locked your son away, and never let him see the light of day, then Calaen would still have found a way to track him down."
Thranduil's face darkened then, and he narrowed his eyes. "I suppose it is time to go and look upon that creature who I once loved as a son. Come, I wish to get this over with as soon as possible."
............................................................................................................
Vicki Turner: Yeah, I know what you mean. I guess that you didn't really see that much of him, but I just flicked through the book, and now that my memory has been refreshed, I think that he played the part of Paris really well. Go him!
Legolas-gurl888: Yeah, I guess that Paris was kind of a dimwit, and I totally agree with you about his looks going for him! And you are so right! I was incredibly shocked when Menelaus had Paris down on the floor! I ended up screaming at him in the movie theatre! But I've said all this in an e-mail, so I'm just repeating myself!
CaryElweisHOT: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it!
Hiei-Rulez: I'm gonna wait til Van H elsing comes out on DVD, cos people I know have been saying that its not the greatest movie ever. I think I'll stick to Troy! And thanks for the compliment! And your story is great! It is so funny!
LalaithoftheBruinen: To be honest with you, I'm not sure. I wrote it in and read over the whole chapter, and when I saw what Elrohir had said, I laughed, cos it didn't really click that he had called Aragorn that. But no, I think he wasn't referring to the King of Gondor.
eleanor rigbey: Go to elflady.com cos they have loadsa stuff there. Its really good! And yeah, I know what you mean about the twins. I love them so much! And in answer to your question, I'm getting a golden retriever! Can't wait!
Halimanya: Yeah, I love Elladan and Elrohir chapters also! And don't worry, there is a lot more of them to come!
Not much of a cliffie there, so I don't have much to say, except that the next chapter will be up on Wednesday! Oh yeah, I saw Troy yesterday. It is so amazing, and Orlando is really good, and I can't wait til this Friday, cos I'm seeing it again! Luv Misto x-x
"But why should you deserve one?" whispered the Prince, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "It is only fair that you go through this. After all,-
Legolas broke off as he was suddenly overcome with dry, harsh coughs. His chest rose and fell swiftly, exploding in pain beneath the surface. He tried to cry out, but nothing happened except more coughs. All he could do was hold his hands tightly against his chest, to try and force the pain away.
As suddenly as they had started, the coughs faded into nothing, and all that could be heard now, were the Elf's short gasps of pain and fear. Yes, he was scared of what had just happened, and that in itself frightened him, for it had been a long time since he had been afraid of anything.
Legolas raised the back of his trembling hand to his mouth, and held it against his lips for a minute, trying to steady his breathing. It did not slow though, so he let his arm fall back down to rest on the bed. Looking down, the Prince's heart skipped a beat. His hand was porcelain white as always, yet smeared across it, was a crimson stain: blood, his blood.
"Valar..." muttered Legolas. He started down at the precious liquid, then realised with a thrill of horror, that he could taste something coppery in his mouth.
Slowly, he moved across from the bed, and stood in front of a dusty mirror on the wall. Since waking up and realising where he was all those days back, Legolas had not dared to even glance at his own reflection. He did now though, and the sight shocked him. His once golden hair was now dull and lifeless; his skin was no longer pale. Now it was a ghostly white, and the sparkle that normally graced his eyes, was gone. The most noticeable thing though, was the line of crimson liquid trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Legolas stared at his reflection for a brief moment, before swiping his hand across his lips, removing all traces of blood. He then turned to the small table, and grabbed the goblet that stood there. He drank slowly, relaxing a little as the cool water calmed the pain at the back of his throat.
The door swung open then, and Calaen came in. He had just sent his army up to the village, after hearing news of the approaching patrol from Rivendell, but was oblivious to the additional soldiers come from Mirkwood. He was also unaware that a great number of his men were injured, some dead.
"Legolas, gwador nin," said Calaen cheerfully. "Are you feeling any better?"
"Hmm."
Calaen smiled, and nodded slowly. "That is good. Listen, I think it best that you start moving around a little. It may help you regain your old strength, don't you think?"
"Hmm."
"Come then. I will show you a little of my stronghold," said Calaen, pulling his brother across to the door, like a child eager to show off a new toy. Legolas closed his eyes though, and reached out, searching for something to grab onto.
"What is it?"
"My head...everything...black..." whispered Legolas, forgetting, in his pain, who he was talking to.
Calaen regarded the younger Elf for a moment, before reaching out and touching the back of his hand to his forehead. Despite the perspiration covering his body, Legolas was shivering violently, his lips trembling and his shoulders shaking.
"Tell me what is wrong," said Calaen sharply. "You are ill, that much is clear. But it should not be so, for Elves are immune to any sickness. What's wrong, Legolas?"
The Prince sank down to the ground as he was racked with coughs, each one more painful than the last. Blood spilt from his mouth, and trickled down his throat, leaving a cherry red stain.
"By the Valar," whispered Calaen, dropping to the ground. He grabbed Legolas by the front of his tunic, but realised with a jolt of anger, that the younger Elf had lost consciousness. "If this ruins any of my plans, then I will make you pay."
Calaen hissed in fury as he tried in vain to remember all that he had been taught as a child. He had studied various illnesses and their cures in his lessons, but it was not long before he had ceased to pay attention, thinking that he was being taught nothing of great importance.
"Damn it," muttered the dark haired Elf.
.............................................................................................................
"Are you sure it is this way?" asked Thranduil anxiously, as he, Aragorn, Gandalf, and fifteen of Mirkwood's finest warriors ran after Aradan through the halls of Calaen's stronghold.
"Yes, I am positive. I was told of everything before I left, and not meaning to cause any worry, Your Highness, but Legolas was in no fit state to be moved very much," said Aradan apologetically.
Thranduil cursed and shook his head in irritation. "I swear by all the Gods that I will kill him, and this time he will not get away."
Aradan made to reply, but stopped dead in his tracks as he heard something up ahead; a fearful whisper, a sharp voice, and then someone coughing. It was not just he who had caught the sounds, for the others had also tensed. Thranduil's face was darkened with anger; Gandalf had tightened his grip on his staff; Aragorn narrowed his eyes; and the Mirkwood patrol pulled their bowstrings menacingly. There was one, however, a fair haired Elf, who remained impassive in everything that he did.
"It has been many long years since I have heard both those voices, but I would recognize them anywhere," he said calmly. "That is Legolas and Calaen."
Thranduil twirled his Elven blade in his fingers, and glared furiously at the corner they would soon be rounding. "Come. I will not leave my son any longer."
.............................................................................................................
Calaen shook his head in anger, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. This was absolutely perfect. There was a good chance that Legolas could die, and that would surely destroy everything that had been worked for.
"Well, well, well, we meet again," said a sudden cool voice from behind him.
Calaen jumped to his feet and whirled around, heart nearly stopping as he saw fifteen arrows pointed his way. He looked into ice blue eyes for a moment, stunned, but he quickly fixed a calm expression on his face. That faded though, as he saw who stood beside the Elven-king of Mirkwood.
"Surprised?" asked the stranger.
"What...how...but you...no...this is not possible," whispered Calaen, shaking his head slowly, in disbelief. "How can this be? No, this...this is not real."
"I can assure you it is," sneered Thranduil, as his men rushed forwards and grabbed the defenceless Elf. "Take him outside; make sure he does not escape. I want him alive...for the time being."
Calaen growled low in his throat as he was dragged away. The Mirkwood soldiers were far from gentle, furious at the treatment of their Prince. Thranduil meanwhile, had dropped to the ground next to Legolas, and was running a hand down the side of his face.
"Ion-nin, what happened to you?" he whispered. "What did they do to you?"
"He has a punctured lung," said Aragorn grimly, shaking his head. "He should've been treated properly on the day he broke his ribs."
Thranduil closed his eyes in despair for a brief moment, before flicking his gaze up to the fair haired Elf who had spoken earlier. "Is there anything you can do for him? Please, you said that-
"I know what I said, but I can do nothing whilst underground in this dark and evil place. If we get outside in time, then yes, I should be able to heal him," cut in the Elf. "Come, we must move swiftly."
The King nodded, and lifted Legolas into his arms. He was surprised at how easy that had been, for although the Prince had always been both slender and slightly smaller than other Elves, he was now painfully thin, and the weight of his body worried Thranduil.
"I cannot bring the dead back to the world of the living," warned the fair haired Elf. "Do you understand that? My powers are strong, but can only stretch to a certain limit. I can cure anything with my hands, but I cannot bring the-
"I know, but he still lives," said Thranduil desperately. "Legolas still lives, doesn't he?"
As they ran through the dark tunnels lit only by flickering candles, Aragorn looked down at his unconscious friend, and grimaced. "He still lives, but only just. If not treated after five minutes, a punctured lung can prove fatal, and we know not how long he has been in darkness."
"It cannot have been long, else he would not still be here," said Aradan quietly. "But look, there is light up ahead. We are close to the exit."
Gandalf glanced across at the young Elf, and sighed inwardly. No matter what Calaen had ever done, he was still the boy's father, and it must've been hard for Aradan to stand in the shadows, and watch as he was dragged away.
"Come, lay him down over here," said the fair haired Elf, after what seemed an eternity.
Thranduil blinked in surprise, for so caught up in his thoughts had he been, that he had not noticed they were no longer underground. Trees surrounded them, and the grass they stood on was lush and green. It was a strong contrast to Calaen's stone walls.
"Lift his head so that he does not choke on his own blood," directed Aragorn.
"He is not breathing," muttered Thranduil, though he did as the Ranger instructed. "Damn it, he is not going to pull through."
Gandalf stepped forward and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You should have learnt from your past experiences, never to lose hope. If you keep believing, and do not let go of your faith, then Legolas will live."
Thranduil closed his eyes, but nodded resolutely as the fair haired Elf knelt on the floor, and placed both hands on Legolas' chest. His gaze never once left the Prince's white face, and without blinking, he began to whisper softly. Everyone tried to catch what was being said, but no-one save Gandalf could understand the words.
"Come on," whispered Aragorn.
The healer pushed slightly harder on Legolas' chest, his hands visibly trembling. His calm and collected manner had diminished, and he was now clearly fearful, with perspiration on his brow. His lips were still moving, yet no sound came from them.
"This is not working!" exploded Thranduil, slamming his free hand on the ground.
Gandalf crossed his arms, and looked down sternly at the King. "Did you listen to anything at all that I said? No, I doubt it. I know it is had, but just try and be patient."
Thranduil was just about to reply to that, but the healer sat back on his heels, and lowered his eyes to the ground. He pulled his hands away from Legolas' body, and let out a deep breath. Whether if was of relief or defeat, no-one knew.
"Oh no," whispered Thranduil, fearing the worst.
The fair haired Elf shook his head violently. "No, he still lives. I have healed him as best I can, but he is not entirely out of danger. He must get to Rivendell very soon, but I fear that two days is too long to wait. If I go immediately with him, we can make it in one day."
"No, absolutely not," said Thranduil sharply. "I am not going to leave Legolas alone yet. Valar, he nearly died. I will ride with you."
"My horse can travel at a far greater speed than any others here, except maybe Mithrandir's," argued the fair haired Elf. "I understand that you wish to accompany Legolas, but there is work to be done here. What about Calaen?"
Thranduil narrowed his eyes, but nodded slowly. "You speak truly, though I hate to say it. Alright, take Legolas to Rivendell. I will follow in a short while, for it will not take me long to deal with Calaen."
"You are going to kill him?" asked Aradan quietly.
"Take a quick look at what he has done to my son!" snapped Thranduil. Sighing, he wiped away some of the blood from Legolas' lips. "No, Calaen must die, and if you are so desperate to say good-bye to your precious ruler, then that is fine."
Aradan turned away as the fair haired Elf easily lifted Legolas into his arms. He did want to see Calaen again. After all, for many years, he had been the only family around. But he knew that he could be throwing away a chance of ever becoming close to Thranduil and Legolas.
"Ride hard," Thranduil was now saying to the Elf carrying his son. "I hope your horse is as swift as you say, for Legolas will not last unless he gets to Rivendell."
"There is no need to worry. I will travel with all speed, and I can easily buy Legolas some more time if needs be," replied the fair haired Elf. "Even now, the touch of my fingers on his body is making him just that little bit stronger."
Thranduil locked eyes with the healer and smiled vaguely, before flicking his gaze down to Legolas' face. The Prince was still unconscious, but his chest now rose and fell. The movement was still weak and nearly un- noticeable, but definitely there. Blood had ceased tumbling from his lips, though they were stained a cherry red.
"You must leave," said Gandalf gently. "Thranduil, you will see Legolas again soon, so do not fret."
Inclining his head, the healer turned swiftly, and slipped through the trees, making no noise as he moved. He travelled swiftly, yet his feet made no imprint on the leaves, which did not rustle.
"I never imagined we would be in the same situation as we were all those years back," said Thranduil quietly, looking down at the slowly drying blood on his sleeve. "I never imagined that Legolas would have to go through so much pain again. I tried to protect him, but-
"You did not fail," cut in Gandalf sternly. "Do not blame yourself for anything that has happened. Even if you had locked your son away, and never let him see the light of day, then Calaen would still have found a way to track him down."
Thranduil's face darkened then, and he narrowed his eyes. "I suppose it is time to go and look upon that creature who I once loved as a son. Come, I wish to get this over with as soon as possible."
............................................................................................................
Vicki Turner: Yeah, I know what you mean. I guess that you didn't really see that much of him, but I just flicked through the book, and now that my memory has been refreshed, I think that he played the part of Paris really well. Go him!
Legolas-gurl888: Yeah, I guess that Paris was kind of a dimwit, and I totally agree with you about his looks going for him! And you are so right! I was incredibly shocked when Menelaus had Paris down on the floor! I ended up screaming at him in the movie theatre! But I've said all this in an e-mail, so I'm just repeating myself!
CaryElweisHOT: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it!
Hiei-Rulez: I'm gonna wait til Van H elsing comes out on DVD, cos people I know have been saying that its not the greatest movie ever. I think I'll stick to Troy! And thanks for the compliment! And your story is great! It is so funny!
LalaithoftheBruinen: To be honest with you, I'm not sure. I wrote it in and read over the whole chapter, and when I saw what Elrohir had said, I laughed, cos it didn't really click that he had called Aragorn that. But no, I think he wasn't referring to the King of Gondor.
eleanor rigbey: Go to elflady.com cos they have loadsa stuff there. Its really good! And yeah, I know what you mean about the twins. I love them so much! And in answer to your question, I'm getting a golden retriever! Can't wait!
Halimanya: Yeah, I love Elladan and Elrohir chapters also! And don't worry, there is a lot more of them to come!
Not much of a cliffie there, so I don't have much to say, except that the next chapter will be up on Wednesday! Oh yeah, I saw Troy yesterday. It is so amazing, and Orlando is really good, and I can't wait til this Friday, cos I'm seeing it again! Luv Misto x-x