Disclaimer: For full disclaimer, please see chapter
1.
A/N:
Well, it is very nice that so many of you remembered this little story. I didn't
really expect anyone to review, and am now very pleasantly surprised. Thank you
all very much! huggles all readers I am sorry for not updating yesterday,
but a friend of mine with whom I hadn't spoken in ages called and before I knew
what was happening, it was 11 pm. I wanted to update, really, but I didn't make
it in time. Sorry.
It's also great to see - even if it is also a little bit disconcerting g -
that there are quite a lot of people looking forward to, and I quote, "Aragorn
hurt/comfort, blood, sickness, poison". I have to admit that yes, there will be
some of the above (okay, I'll be honest: Most of it g) in this chapter and the
next ones - I couldn't control my alter ego. It's all her fault. But it's not
exactly going to be a pleasure cruise for Legolas and Glorfindel either, so
those of you who want to see blond-elf-angst-and-pain (or whatever you want to
call it) should be happy too. reassuring smile But you will have to
wait until the last chapter to find out what's wrong with him, but hey, this
only has five chapters all together. You won't have to wait long this time.
Oh, one other thing: Yes, I WILL write a sequel to "To Walk In Night", but I
have to admit that I haven't even started yet. I have yet another evil college
paper from hell due in about one and a half weeks, and I haven't even decided on
the topic yet! I very much doubt that I will start before the end of the month,
so I think you can expect the first chapter around the 20th of August at the
very earliest. smiles sheepishly Sorry about that. I once again underestimated
the ability of Darth Real Life to foil my plans.
Anyway, here's the next chapter, in which poor Elvynd narrowly escapes almost
certain doom, the twins and Legolas have a little discussion, Glorfindel has a
bad feeling that's not nearly bad enough and Aragorn has a bad day. Oh, and yes,
there's a little cliffy at the end. Only a tiny one though, I promise. g
Enjoy and review, please!
Chapter 2
Elvynd didn't know what he had done to deserve this, he truly
didn't. Yes, he was a Noldo, but the days of the Kinslaying were long past and
it was therefore highly
unlikely that the Valar were trying to punish him for the deeds
of his forefathers. Besides, the dark haired elf thought defiantly, his
grandmother hadn't even been of the Noldorin people. She had been one of
the Nandor, and he was therefore not even a full Noldo. That had to count for
something, hadn't it?
Apparently it didn't, the young elf added tiredly after a few
moments as he looked at the laughing faces of his lord's sons and the Prince of
Mirkwood. The four of them seemed to be in high spirits, and even Estel looked
merry enough. He had apparently decided to let the matter of the twins'
retribution drop for the moment, even though Elvynd knew him better than to
believe that he had forgiven them. He didn't know whether it was because of his elven blood or because he had grown up here in Rivendell with the twins, but
Estel didn't forget such things easily.
That
was a character trait that had brought the rest of Imladris much entertainment over the years, even though it had probably done
just the opposite to Lord Elrond. It was widely considered a miracle that the
Lord of Rivendell hadn't gone insane yet, but Elvynd was a supporter of the
theory that it could only be a matter of time.
The young elf asked himself for the umpteenth time why he had
allowed his friend Isál to talk him into this. Isál was another captain of the
guard and it had been his
duty to accompany Lord Glorfindel and their
lord's sons, but somehow Isál
had convinced him to undertake
this duty for him. He
didn't really know how his friend had managed to persuade him to swap shifts
with him, but there was one thing he did know very well: He would get him for
it. He most certainly would, and if it was the last thing he ever did.
Elvynd was torn out of his dark thoughts by Estel's laughing
voice, and with an inward sigh he raised his head and redirected his attention
to his surroundings. It took him a moment to catch sight of the young man, who
was riding at the head of the column with his brothers and the son of Thranduil.
"Elvynd! Come and help us settle a little dispute!"
The young dark haired captain swallowed heavily
and shot
two of his snickering men who were riding next to him fiery glares. The two
warriors' faces quickly became emotionless once more as they found a sudden
interest in the dark blue sky and the slowly setting sun, and Elvynd returned
his eyes to the waving man who was riding a few yards in front of him. With a
small, inward sigh the elf spurred on his horse and caught up with the three
elves and the human who were looking at him expectantly.
"Estel," he nodded somewhat wearily at the man when he had
reached his side. "What kind of dispute is it you are talking about?"
"One of the greatest importance," the young ranger retorted
gravely. "You could even say that it is a matter of life or death. Your life or
death, if I'm not very much mistaken."
Oh yes, Elvynd thought while he tried not to let his mounting
anxiety show on his face, Isál was dead. He would kill him, or better yet, he
would tell that maiden his friend had been worshipping from afar for the past
two centuries how much he liked her. And then he would watch how Isál died of
embarrassment when he actually had to talk to her.
"Elvynd?"
The young captain blinked and forced himself to abandon his
rather amusing vision of Isál going red in the face until his head exploded and
looked up. Lord Elrond's sons and the prince were looking at him with identical
expressions of puzzlement, and Elvynd managed to smile slightly.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy their company – or their
jokes, for that matter – but he was in fact an elf with a rather pronounced
sense of self-preservation, which
was having a fit inside his skull
right now.
To go anywhere with the twins and the Prince of Mirkwood and to expect to return
home in the condition you had left it was foolishness or extremely positive
thinking, and Estel's presence somehow only served to make everything even
worse.
"Yes?" he retorted, the faint smile still adorning his face.
"You were saying, Estel?"
"Are you alright, Elvynd?" Elrohir answered for his human
brother, manoeuvring his horse a little bit closer to that of the elven warrior
and peering intently into his face. "You looked rather pale for a few seconds,
and then you suddenly began to grin."
"Quite evilly, too," Elladan nodded.
"One could almost say," Elrohir chimed in again, "that you
were looking positively malevolent, is that not true, my brothers?"
Elladan and Aragorn nodded gravely, something that gave them
the appearance of a pair of solemn owls.
"Indeed," Elladan nodded. "What were you thinking about,
Elvynd?"
"Nothing," the other elf shook his head quickly. "Nothing of
importance, my lord."
"If you say so," Aragorn said with a suspicious look at the
dark haired elf, but finally decided to let the matter drop when he remembered
why they had invited him to join them in the first place. "So, what
do you think, my friend: Did Elladan hit that stag or was it Elrohir?"
Three dark heads and a pale golden one turned and four pairs
of eyes fixed on Elvynd's face, who suddenly felt very much like a worm pinned
on a fishhook. The dark haired elf took a deep breath and slowly turned to
look at the stag in question that was at the moment draped over one of the pack
animals, together with the rest of the deer they had managed to shoot. A few
moments later he looked back at the elves and the man in front of him, his eyes
frantically darting from one to the next in the vain hope of discovering
a sign
that
they weren't really expecting an answer from him.
After another few seconds he gave an inward groan. No sign.
"I … don't really think I can … say anything about that, my
friends," he finally began, choosing every single word with great care. "I
wasn't actually watching when it happened."
"Yes, you were!" Elrohir exclaimed, half-indignantly and
half-offended. "You were standing next to Glorfindel, who was standing next to
your lieutenant, who was standing next to Estel, who was standing next to
Legolas, who was standing right next to the stag!"
Elvynd blinked slowly and needed a few moments to reconstruct
what the younger twin had said, but finally realised that he'd got him there. He
had indeed been standing next to an unusually solemn-looking Lord Glorfindel at
the time both of the twins had taken a shot at the stag. He shot Estel a dark,
vicious look that the human ignored with infuriating efficiency and opened his
mouth to speak, frantically trying to come up with
a safe answer.
"I think you both hit it at the same time," he finally said.
There, that sounded safe enough, didn't it?
Elladan and Elrohir snorted in unison while Aragorn and
Legolas suppressed an amused smile, and Elvynd mentally hung his head. They were
not letting him off this easily, it appeared.
"Of course we both hit it," Elladan said slowly, as if
talking to a particularly dumb child. "My arrow, however, was the one that hit
the stag first and killed it."
"What do you mean, 'of course' you hit it?" Legolas demanded
to know before Elrohir could articulate the outraged words that were on the tip
of his tongue. "You're Noldor."
Elvynd would almost have kissed the prince, no matter how
seriously he might just have insulted his people. One of the twins' and Prince
Legolas' Wood-elves/Teleri-versus-Noldor-arguments should be enough to
sufficiently distract them from this topic.
Just as he had thought, the twins and Estel straightened up
on their horses, and three pairs of grey eyes fixed unbelievingly on the
wood-elf's widely grinning face. With a grin of his own Elvynd allowed his horse
to fall back a little, shooting his men who were listening intently a look that
told them to be silent, in the Valar's name. Not getting involved in this was by
far the wisest – and healthiest – policy.
"Pardon me?" the young man finally asked, putting one hand to
an ear in the universal gesture that he had trouble understanding what the elf
was saying.
"Oh, you heard me, Estel," Legolas grinned, apparently not at
all impressed by the look the twins were shooting him that was bordering
on positively murderous.
"No, I don't think I heard you correctly," the ranger said,
emphasising every single word. His eyes flickered over to his
far-too-calm-looking brothers before they returned to his friend's face, telling
him unambiguously that he should better seize this chance to take back his words
if he cherished living. "Please, could you repeat your words?"
"With pleasure," Legolas retorted amiably, the grin on his
face only widening. "I pointed out that you were Noldor. The Deep Elves are
known for many things, but not exactly for their accuracy with a bow."
A spluttering, choking sound could be heard from the twins
that resembled the noises of two
gagging chickens more than anything else. For a few seconds,
neither of the two dark haired elves seemed to be capable of clearly articulated
sentences, but then Elrohir managed to swallow his indignation to
speak.
"Excuse me?" he asked unbelievingly, his
eyes impossibly large. "We are what?"
"Obviously you are not too keen-eared either," Legolas
muttered under his breath, a wicked sparkle of amusement shining brightly in his
silver-blue eyes.
If they hadn't been riding at the moment, the twins might
have actually tried to lunge at the wood-elf, who had moved his horse safely out
of reach. For a few moments, the twins merely stared at the widely grinning
Silvan elf while Aragorn shook his head slowly, already guessing how
this was going to end, namely in pain and blood and him having to explain to his
father and King Thranduil why the twins and Legolas had tried to kill each
other.
At least he thought that Legolas would be more than willing
to defend himself in the rather unlikely case that the twins lost control over
themselves – which would be, by the way, his fault, since he had started this
whole argument. He wasn't really sure, of course, since he had known the blond
elf for only a little more than a year. Even the – for an elf – extremely short
time that they had known one another had been enough for him to consider Legolas
his best friend, but he was still not entirely sure about what Legolas would do
or not do in certain situations.
Elladan said something next to him, sounding torn between
indignation and amusement, but Aragorn wasn't truly listening, only keeping on
ear open for sounds that would indicate that the twins would be trying to do
something drastic to the still grinning wood-elf. The man thought back to the
time when he had met Legolas, just after Elrond had told him about his heritage
and true name.
The man winced inwardly. It hadn't exactly been a friendly
meeting, and now that he remembered it from a safe distance, he was more than
ever of the opinion that it was a major miracle that they hadn't killed each
other. He had never asked his elven friend if he had felt the same, but back then he had definitely come
close to trying to strangle Legolas more than once.
And it was not hard to see why he had had these rather
powerful urges back then, the man thought with a small smile while he watched his
brothers and friend insult each other in what appeared to be a deadly serious
argument. If one didn't know Legolas, it was easy to think that he was just an
arrogant, haughty, self-important prince who attached far too much value
to
his rank and accuracy with the bow.
Which was essentially true, Aragorn smiled inwardly as he
listened to the twins' newest accusation (they were claiming that the Teleri in
general and the Wood-elves in particular had a lousy sense of direction).
Legolas was all that and more – but only to
the people who didn't know him
well. He was also a loyal, kind, merry and quick-witted companion, and the best
friend one could wish for. If, the man added ironically while Legolas was
accusing the Noldor of having dwarven character traits, he wasn't busy insulting
you or generally making you so mad that you would give your right arm for a
chance to kill him.
A few minutes later the three elves seemed to have run out of
insults and were staring at each other, merriment lurking behind mock
indignation. Deciding that this was his best chance to stop their bickering, Aragorn quickly cast a look over his shoulder to make sure that Elvynd and
his men were out of earshot before he turned back to his brothers and friend,
looking earnestly from one to the next.
"There is something I wanted to talk to you about," he said
softly, using the conspiratorial tone of voice he knew at least his elven
brothers wouldn't be able to resist. "If you are finished, that is?"
Elladan shot Legolas a quick look that very clearly said that
they were anything but, but nodded quickly as he saw the rather annoyed look on
his human brother's face.
"For now, we are," he said with a nasty side-look at the
elven prince. "What is it, muindor nín? Do you need advice from your
older and far wiser brothers?"
Aragorn shot his older elven brother an incredulous look.
"If I really needed some advice, I would most certainly not
go to either of you. You would only tell me something like 'If you don't like
your food, you may throw it at Glorfindel'." Legolas turned unbelieving eyes on
the man, and so Aragorn explained, "They told me that when I was four or five
years old. And I believed them."
"Oh yes, those were the times," Elrohir sighed wistfully.
"Why oh why did you have to grow up so fast, Estel?"
"I agree, brother," Elladan grinned. "The look on
Glorfindel's face was priceless. I think he still doesn't like blackberry
tarts."
"And can you blame him?" Elrohir retorted with a grin of his
own. "He needed hours to get all the juice out of his hair and off his clothes.
For a while, he looked rather like a magpie, with half his hair dyed black with
the juice."
"You didn't really do that, did you?" Legolas asked, about to burst with laughter and disbelief. "How is it that you're still alive?"
"Well," Aragorn answered modestly, "I think ada
stopped him from killing me. Not even Glorfindel's claims that I was a balrog in
disguise and that it was therefore his duty to slay me could sway his mind – for
which I am eternally grateful, of course."
Legolas laughed softly while he tried to picture Lord
Glorfindel covered
with
blackberry juice, but turned serious again rather quickly.
"But we digress, my friend," he told the man who was riding
next to him, studying him in the setting afternoon sun. "What is it about which
you wanted to talk with us?"
"Glorfindel," Aragorn answered promptly, nodding into the
direction of the tall, golden haired warrior who was riding alone at the head of
the small group. "And no, not about the blackberry-incident, Elladan."
The twins traded a quick look, and Elrohir finally nodded
carefully.
"So you have noticed it too?"
"It is hard not to notice something as obvious as that,"
Aragorn shrugged slightly. "I don't think I have ever seen him so quiet and
withdrawn."
"Oh, he's like that sometimes," Elladan shrugged as well.
"It's only natural, so close to Midyear's Day."
Aragorn and Elrohir nodded, but Legolas looked rather
confused.
"Why? What does Summer Solstice have to do with anything?"
"Tomorrow will be the thirty-second Day of Lairë, Legolas,"
Elrohir explained quietly. "Midyear's Day is the anniversary of Gondolin's
destruction."
"Oh," Legolas nodded solemnly, only now remembering the time
of year the High King Turgon's city had fallen to Morgoth and his legions. "I
see."
"Yes, I have noticed
it too," Aragorn agreed impatiently, "But
it's far worse than usual! He's not talking to anyone, not even to father or Erestor. Don't tell me you hadn't noticed."
"No," Elladan nodded as well, "We have noticed, of course. But there is nothing
we can do. We can only hope that he will confide in us when he feels he is ready
to do so, or that ada will get him to talk about what is bothering him."
"You could simply ask him what is wrong," Legolas suggested
with an amusedly quirked eyebrow.
To his surprise, all three brothers started laughing
uproariously, as if he had just said the funniest thing imaginable to man, elf,
hobbit or otherwise. With an annoyed grimace Legolas patted his horse's neck and
finally crossed his arms over his chest, shooting dark looks at the snickering
elves and the man.
"Did I say something amusing, mellyn nín?"
The three of them needed some more moments to calm down
sufficiently to speak, and finally Aragorn nodded shakily, wiping tears of mirth
out of his eyes.
"Well … yes, in a way," he finally ground out. "The mere idea
of asking Glorfindel about something he so obviously doesn't want to talk
about is … well, yes, amusing."
"He wouldn't even bother not telling the truth," Elladan
nodded. "He would simply stare at you with that patented
'Why-am-I-surrounded-by-imbeciles-look' and walk away."
"And then, if you pressed the matter, he would tell you that
there is nothing he would care to discuss, in a tone of voice that would impress
even the Dark Lord himself," Elrohir added. "Believe me, Legolas, there is no
way that he will tell you anything if you ask him."
"Well," the fair haired prince shrugged, "You could always…"
What they could do they would never find out, because in this
moment the object of their discussion stopped his horse so abruptly that the
gleaming white animal threw back its head and pranced on the spot in an annoyed
manner. In a matter of moments the four young beings and the rest of the small
hunting party had reached the golden haired elf's side and stopped next to him.
Glorfindel didn't really seem to realise that the
others had
reached him, with his head cocked to the side and his eyes scanning the trees in
front of them. After a few moments of waiting for an explanation for the elf
lord's behaviour – which was not forthcoming – Elrohir finally reached out and
touched the other elf's upper arm, frowning slightly when he felt how tense his
muscles were beneath the brown suede tunic.
"Glorfindel? What is wrong?"
It took Glorfindel another few moments to realise that he was
being spoken to, but then he seemed to shake himself out of his short paralysis.
"I don't like this. We should ride back and take the longer
road."
Aragorn narrowed his eyes and studied the road in front of
them. He could understand Glorfindel's unease, at least partly. He had never
liked this part of the path himself. A few yards ahead the road was turning
sharply to the left, winding around a small copse of trees and hiding the rest
of the path from sight. The forest was rather thin here, since they were still a
good deal away from Rivendell and there weren't many trees north of the Last
Homely House. The further you rode north, the fewer trees there were and the
more dangerous and stonier the terrain became, and if the deer hadn't led them a
merry chase here, they wouldn't even have thought about coming here.
Right now, however, he didn't see anything out of the
ordinary. The sun was just setting in the West, casting a red-golden glow over
the lands, and Aragorn's senses could detect nothing that could be construed
dangerous in any way. Then again, the man reasoned inwardly, he was no elf, and
when Glorfindel said something was wrong, something usually was wrong, too. Most
of the time, something was even very wrong.
Elladan wrinkled his brow, seeming to have come to the same
conclusion.
"Do you sense something?"
"I'm … not sure," the older elf replied uncertainly. "There
is danger afoot, even though I cannot say where exactly. I think we should ride
back; there is no need to risk anything."
Elrond's oldest son traded a quick look with his twin before
he turned slightly and gave Elvynd and his men a quick look. The dark haired
captain inclined his head minutely while most of his men were busy staring past
the twins and the other elves and mustering the trees
sharply, as if hoping to gain any clues as to what might have unsettled the
golden haired lord.
"As you wish," Elladan said a moment later. "We will take the
longer route."
Glorfindel nodded, his eyes still not leaving the dark trees
in front of him, and a second later the troupe had turned around and was heading
back the way they had come. The light-hearted mood from earlier had disappeared
in an instant, and tension and nervousness seemed to emanate from every single
one of the riders.
Aragorn cast a quick, cursory glance over his shoulder,
half-expecting a horde of orcs or wargs to burst through the trees. Elrohir gave
his human brother a quick look and grinned at him, reaching out to pat his arm
reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Estel, nothing will hurt you. We will protect
you."
"Very funny," the man said sourly with a side-look at the
golden haired elf lord who still seemed to be definitely ill at ease. "Every
time Glorfindel thinks something is wrong I end up in the healing wing. I don't
like this at all."
"Neither do I," Legolas nodded next to him, righting his
quiver and positioning it so that he could reach his arrows more quickly. "Apart
from the fact that I trust Lord Glorfindel's instincts implicitly, there is a
whisper of danger in the air. The trees are afraid, and not only for themselves.
Something is out there, something that doesn't mean us well."
"Oh, won't ada be happy?" Elrohir sighed dramatically.
"And we promised him not get into any trouble."
"Do you have any idea what might have been in the forest?"
Aragorn asked when their horses had reached the fork in the road they had left
behind some minutes ago. This time, they chose the left path, which circumvented the woods and led down into the valley through the rocky hills to
the north of Rivendell.
"Maybe some trolls," Elladan shrugged slightly. "Even though
they shouldn't wake up
for another hour or so, until it's truly dark. But I don't
really think so, since the only trolls east of the Trollshaws are hill-trolls,
and they are usually further to the north, closer to the Ettenmoors."
"Then again, knowing our luck," Elrohir added lightly, "there
might also have been some wargs or wolves, or a combination of all three. And we
should certainly not forget the possibility that it was orcs."
"They would have been up a bit early, wouldn't they?" Aragorn
asked nonchalantly.
"Well, the sun is just setting," Legolas pointed out calmly.
"Orcs don't like the twilight hours, but they can stand them, if they have to."
Elladan grinned at the elven prince, mischief gleaming in his
grey eyes.
"I see that I was wrong!" he exclaimed, apparently greatly
surprised. "It was most irresponsible of me to call the Wood-elves ignorant!
That was a highly accurate observation, of the likes as no one has been able
to…"
His sentence was interrupted when Glorfindel suddenly
appeared at their side, managing to make that movement appear completely
nonchalant and random. Their horses were still carrying them down the path which
appeared as dark as night now that the sun was setting, and the trees that were
standing left and right of it looked as black as dark stone.
"Don't look ahead," the blond elf began. "We are being
watched."
Aragorn looked at his old teacher, carefully avoiding
scanning the trees ahead. He sensed more than saw how the other elves around
him tensed almost imperceptibly, and even though only he and Elladan were
looking at the golden haired elf directly, he knew that everyone's attention was
fixed on Glorfindel now.
"The thickets next to the road a few hundred yards ahead?"
Elladan asked softly.
The other elf nodded minutely.
"Yes."
"Orcs?"
Another quick nod.
"Does anyone know how many?" Aragorn asked quietly, his sword
hand nervously fiddling with his blade's hilt. "What do we do? Turn back?"
"About twenty or twenty-five, I think," Glorfindel answered
curtly. "They're well-hidden, so it's hard to say. And no, we can't turn back."
"It's a trap," Elrohir said quietly, anger beginning to
emanate from his lithe form that he could barely keep off his face. "They
planned this, damned be their black souls! They knew we would turn back and
choose this road instead."
"That wasn't too hard to guess," Elvynd shrugged calmly.
"There are only two paths leading down into the valley from the North. They only
had to block one and force us to use the other. I don't even think they have
been waiting for us specifically."
"Most likely not," Elladan agreed, shooting the thickets a
quick look. If you knew what you were looking for, it was quite easy to spot the
ambush. The branches of the trees and bushes swayed with more than just
the wind,
and some of the brambles were even trembling violently as something hiding
behind them moved none-too-gently. "Still," he added darkly, "if they want to
ambush us, they will have to deal with the consequences."
"Remember what we promised ada, Elladan," Aragorn
reminded his brother softly. He knew that look in Elladan's eyes; it usually
spelt death and doom for any orc which crossed him.
"We don't have a choice in that matter," Glorfindel said
evenly. "The second group will be only a few minutes behind us. We can't turn
back; we'll have to go through them."
Elrohir grinned at his brother before he returned his
attention to the blond elf lord.
"Excellent."
Glorfindel gave the younger elf an admonishing look.
He looked at
the
thickets that were only about two hundred yards away now and finally returned
his attention to the small group riding next to him. There were only four more
guards with them, so with Elvynd, the twins, Aragorn, Prince Legolas and himself
they were ten. He frowned darkly, all his thoughts focused on the predicament at
hand. Not exactly what one would call wonderful odds, especially considering
that there were most likely more orcs lurking at their backs.
"Alright," he began insistently, "This is what we will do.
We'll continue as normally as possible. As soon as we come into reach and
can spot our targets, we'll try
to cause as much confusion as we can – which shouldn't be too hard," he added
with a poignant look at his lord's sons and their Silvan friend. "Use your bows.
No one gets off his horse, understood? As long as we are on horseback, we have
the advantage. Don't get involved in any heavy fighting; just try to break
through as quickly as possible, and once you do, don't stop until you've reached
the nearest guard post."
He garnered small nods from his companions, most of them
grim-looking and tense. Glorfindel sighed inwardly and squared his shoulders,
giving the rather obvious trap in front of them a quick look. He had not been
looking forward to this evening and him having to try and explain his recent
behaviour to his friend and lord, but right now he would give almost anything to
be already back at Rivendell. This was a plan born of desperation, and he could
think of at least a dozen things that could go wrong. No, he corrected himself
quickly. Make that two dozen.
Aragorn, who was riding between Elladan and Legolas, was
thinking just the same. There was an awful lot that could go wrong here – what
if they were attacked before they had reached the thickets? What if there were
more orcs than Glorfindel had thought, what if… With a small inward headshake he
forced himself to abandon these thought. Glorfindel didn't make mistakes such as
miscalculating the number of his opponents.
Still, he went on a moment later, this was far too risky for
his taste. What if they actually did…. His thoughts trailed off into nothing as
he realised what had been bothering him the entire time, his eyes darting from
the bushes that were only about twenty or thirty yards away to Glorfindel
and back again. It was all very well to tell them to use their bows to kill as
many orcs as possible before they could reach them, but who said that they
didn't have bows as well?
A moment later his attention was drawn back to the thicket to
their left, and with unnatural clarity Aragorn realised that the rustling
movement that had caught his eyes had in fact been caused by a black, dully
gleaming arrowhead that had been pushed through the brambles. The young man felt
how his heart froze in his chest. A Elbereth, please no…
His paralysis lasted only a moment, and a second later he
spun around to Glorfindel and his brothers, eyes wide and alarmed in his face
and not at all caring if his shout told the orcs
that they knew they were not alone.
"Archers!!"
He saw his brothers' heads shoot up at his shouted warning,
but at the same time he realised that it was too late. The shrill shrieks of the
orcs mixed with the unmistakable whistling of an arrow that cut through the air,
and a moment later the black projectile hit the tall golden haired elf at the
front in the chest, the impact propelling him backwards and causing his horse to
whinny shrilly as it felt its master reel back.
For a second, Glorfindel managed to remain on his horse, but
then his fingers that had been holding onto his horse's mane loosened on their
own account and he fell, tumbling from Asfaloth's back in a graceless tangle of
long hair and flailing limbs.
The elf's unconscious body hit the stony ground with a thud,
and in the moment the world seemed to speed up again Aragorn decided that this
had been a very, very bad plan indeed.
He hadn't known that so many things could go wrong at once,
Legolas decided in a moment of stunned clarity. No more than twenty seconds had
passed since Aragorn's futile warning, but already everything that possibly
could have gone wrong had gone wrong – badly so.
With a rather vicious curse that would surely have caused his
tutors to hang their heads in despair the fair haired elf did the one thing
everybody else seemed to have done already: He jumped off his snorting and
stomping horse, almost right on top of two of the orcs that were crowding around
his horse, shrieking something in their black language.
He didn't understand what they were shouting (even though it
wasn't too hard to guess), but the sound alone was enough to send a sharp stab
of pain through his skull. He quickly shook his head and drew his knives with
lightning speed, deciding that it didn't matter if he used his daggers instead
of his bow, now that they had already done everything that Lord Glorfindel had
told them not to do.
Renewed fury pulsed through him, and with a movement too
quick for the mortal eye to follow he brought the knives down onto the two orcs
closest to him. For a moment, the two creatures' shrieks intensified before they
fell to the ground, their black blood staining the stony ground a dark, muddy
colour.
The rest of the foul beings fell back, apparently surprised
by their companions' surprising demise, and Legolas had a few moments to appraise
the situation. He had been pushed almost to the edge of their group by the
expected and yet absolutely unexpected attack, and most of his companions were
clustered together to his left. Elvynd and his men were trying their best to
push through the swarm of enemies to reach Aragorn and the twins, but up until
now their endeavours had been in vain. Orcs might not be the brightest creatures
on Arda, but even
they knew that it was better to keep them separated.
The elven prince's feelings of anger and self-reproach even
intensified as the mass of orcs around the three brothers shifted for a moment,
giving him the chance to actually see them and not only hear their voices.
Aragorn and Elladan were on their feet, standing back to back with their swords
drawn and cold fury on their faces. Between them Legolas could see Elrohir, who
was kneeling next to Glorfindel's motionless body and was apparently frantically
trying to stem the flow of blood that was beginning to colour the fallen elf's
brown tunic an even darker colour.
Neither the twins nor Aragorn seemed to be seriously injured,
which was at least something, a sarcastic part of Legolas' mind noticed. Then
again, he thought darkly, he didn't think that Lord Elrond would be overly
pleased about having to patch up his seneschal, no matter whether or not his
sons were uninjured for once.
Legolas was brought out of his thoughts by a quick movement
to his right, and without thinking he ducked and moved back a few steps. His
instinctive movement was all that saved him from grievous injury or death, for a
crudely made scimitar cut through the air where his head had been only moments
ago. The orc wielding the weapon blinked stupidly while it tried to figure out
where its prey had disappeared to, but its surprise didn't last for long since
Legolas turned back around a moment later and brought down his knives in a wide,
deadly arc. The blades buried themselves in the creature's chest, and a moment
later it dropped to the ground, a look of surprise still visible on its hideous
face.
If Legolas had hoped that the orc's death would discourage
the others in some degree, he soon found out that that was not the case. If
anything, it only seemed to make the rest of the orcs madder and even more
determined
to try anything to kill him, and soon he found himself pushed back by the sheer
number of his enemies.
Legolas was still moving backwards, trying his best not to
let any of the orcs come too close to him, when his back suddenly and very
unexpectedly connected with something soft and definitely alive. For a single,
horrible moment he thought he had just bumped into an orc that had somehow
managed to sneak up on him, but then he realised that it was only his horse. The
animal was snorting and lashing out at anything that was not elven and
had
thus managed to keep the orcs at bay, and for a quick second Legolas took his eyes
off his adversaries to make sure his mount was well and able to hold its own.
It most definitely was, he decided a moment later, but when
he turned back to his opponents he realised that the moment of distraction would
cost him dearly. He was still in the process of turning his head when a clawed,
dirty-grey fist appeared in his line of vision, wrapped around what looked like
a sword hilt. A small part of him was still wondering where it had come from
when the pommel of the scimitar connected with the side of his head, throwing
his senses into almost complete chaos.
A sudden roaring noise filled his ears, sounding remarkably
like a river or the sea which Ossë had stirred up in his wrath. Blinding white light appeared in
front of his eyes, and only the sharp pain in his knees told him that he had
lost his footing and fallen to the ground. He felt as if he was slowly being
carried away by a strong current, and for long moments he couldn't remember why
it had seemed important to fight against unconsciousness anyway. To simply give
in and let himself be carried away to a place where he could sleep as long as he
wanted
had never before held this much appeal, and the mere idea of trying to
resist further was…
"Legolas!!"
The fair haired elf frowned inwardly, needing a few moments
to decide whether or not that was indeed his name. He finally came to a
favourable decision and wrecked his brain to try
and find out who could
possibly have shouted his name overly loudly and had therefore prevented him
from letting go and getting the rest his body so desperately needed. Half a
second later something clicked in his head, and with sickening clarity he
realised what was going on.
The ambush. Glorfindel's motionless body, lying on the floor
with a thick, evil-looking arrow in his chest. The orc's fist, slamming into his
temple and sending him to his knees. Aragorn's voice, screaming his name and
sounding on the edge of a full-blown panic. Oh the Valar, why did every single
one
of their expeditions have to end like this?
With an enormous act of will, Legolas forced his very
uncooperative eyelids open, only to realise that he might just have been better
off if he had kept them shut. Usually he preferred knowing what was going to
happen to uncertainty, but right now
he was willing to make an exception
because there were definitely things worse than ignorance.
Namely, a rather wry part of him noted amusedly, seeing an orc standing over you
with its scimitar held high above its head, its face
contorted with glee and hatred and speaking of its firm intent and desire to
bring it down onto your body.
There was no time to get out of way, Legolas knew that as
firmly and certainly as if someone had written it on the orc's forehead in bold
black letters. He couldn't have tethered on the brink of unconsciousness for
much more than a few seconds, but it had been enough time for the orcs to close
in on him. Not even if he had been able to move as fast as usual he
could had saved himself, which was no consolation at
all now that he thought about it.
The thought that his father would be really angry if he heard
about this hadn't even fully constituted in his mind when a dark green and grey
blur slammed into the leering orc from behind, almost knocking the creature into
the still kneeling elf. The two bodies missed Legolas by inches, the orc
shrieking with shock and indignation while it tried to shake the young ranger
off who was stubbornly clinging to his back.
The man's desperate action helped Legolas to regain his
bearings, and it took him only a few moments to force the weakness and
light-headedness back and to climb back to his feet. Sweeping up his knives he
had unknowingly dropped to the floor earlier, Legolas righted himself, deciding
inwardly that, if Aragorn had wanted to distract most of the orcs, he had
definitely succeeded. Many of the fell beasts were staring at the ranger
who was still not letting go of the orc who was currently rather busy trying to
gut him – a situation that Elvynd and the other guards were exploiting to the
fullest. They renewed their attempts to reach their two young lords' sides, and
there were no more than five or six orcs separating them from their goal now.
Legolas quickly returned his attention to the orcs in front
of him and kicked out with a leg, sending one of them crashing backwards into
two of its companions. The three creatures went down with angry, hissing curses,
and Legolas whirled around to help his human friend who had just saved him from
decapitation or a similarly deadly fate.
He squinted slightly, the dancing shadows which
the last, weak rays
of the sun cast onto the man and his opponent not helping in the slightest to
distinguish between the two of them. Legolas hesitated for a second, not wishing
to harm his friend instead of the orc, but all uncertainty disappeared from his
mind in a second as he heard a strangled, pain-filled and most definitely human
scream. The two combatants shifted slightly, and Legolas watched with anger
burning hotly in his heart how the orc wrenched its blade out of the man's side,
most likely doing its best to cause as much additional damage as possible.
It took the elf only half a second to shift his grip on his
knife from hilt to blade as he forgot all the things that had stopped him from
interfering in the fight until now. Neither the chance that he might hit his
friend if the orc moved slightly nor the fact that his knife had not been
designed as a throwing knife mattered anymore, and another second later the
blade had left his hand and burrowed itself in the orc's back.
Legolas was at his friend's side with two long strides,
falling to his knees next to him and praying that he had interpreted Elladan's
enraged shout correctly, namely meaning
that he and the others would cover them as long
as possible. They shouldn't have too many problems, Legolas reasoned while he
wrenched his knife out of the orc's back and began to push it off the young man
on whom it had collapsed. There weren't too many orcs left now and the
others were
experienced warriors, they shouldn't be too hard-pressed to…
All such thoughts faded from the elf's mind when he finally
managed to push the surprisingly heavy body of the orc to the side. The body he
thus exposed was far too still and motionless for his taste, and for a horrible
moment he thought that he had been too late and Aragorn's wound had been fatal.
A moment later he shook himself out of his trance and reached out to touch the
young man, all the sounds of the battle fading into unimportance for now. In the
moment he touched Aragorn, however, the man's closed eyes flew open and he
grasped his hand in a steely grip, apparently thinking himself to be still in
danger.
Legolas couldn't help but start grinning at this obvious
proof that Aragorn
had only been stunned for a few seconds when the orc had collapsed
on top of him, but the mirth faded quickly from his face as he saw the blood
soaking through his human friend's dark green shirt. Not having the time to
reassure the man, he quickly reached out and tried to pry Aragorn's other hand
away from the wound, forcing himself to ignore the pain that was easily visible
on the young ranger's face at that action.
"Let me see," he told the man insistently, chancing a glance
at their surroundings to make sure that Elvynd, Elladan and the others were
still keeping the orcs at bay. "Let me
see, reckless human."
"Ha!" Aragorn ground out, teeth firmly clenched to
suppress
the
pain that the elf's gently probing hands awoke in the wound. "Who … is
the reckless one, hm? Idiot."
"Hmph. Look who's talking," Legolas retorted, feeling how a
strange cold began to spread inside of him as he exposed the man's injury.
The orc's scimitar had cut deeply through the skin and muscle
of Aragorn's left side, just above his hipbone. Blood was flowing freely from
the wound, and past the cut and torn muscle the elf could see something gleaming
white that had to be bone. It appeared that the blade had got stuck there,
causing the orc to pull it back out.
Legolas was no healer, but he had seen enough wounds to know
one thing: This was bad. This was even very bad.
"We need to get you back to Rivendell," he told the man and
hurriedly shrugged out of his over shirt, knowing that they didn't have the time
to properly bandage this wound. He pressed it hard against the bleeding wound,
ignoring the young man's barely muffled sound of pain. He tried to fasten it as
best as he could and gave the white-faced ranger a forced grin. "Your father
will kill you, you know that."
"Oh yes," Aragorn retorted, his voice strained and dark with
pain. "And then he will … behind you!!"
Without doubt or hesitation Legolas rolled to the side,
cursing himself for
allowing himself to get so completely immersed in
what he was doing. A second later he was back on his feet and whirled around,
coming face to face with the orc Aragorn had seen sneaking up on them. For a
heartbeat, elf and orc merely stared at each other, and once again Legolas
marvelled at the hatred he saw in the creature's yellow eyes, the same hatred
that was reflected in the eyes of every single one of its wretched kind every
time they saw one of the Firstborn.
Legolas knew of course what they said about
the origins of the orcish race, knew that, long ago before the Darkening of
Valinor, their ancestors had been the same. He knew that the orcs had come into
existence through torment and darkness which
captured elves had had to endure in
the depths of Morgoth's dungeons in Utumno, but right now he didn't care in the
slightest.
Without even thinking the elf's hand shot out, bringing up
his dagger in an arc that would nearly have taken the other
being's head off. The orc
hissed something at him, its voice full of anger and spite, but managed to block
the blow just in time. The dark creature jumped back, obviously trying to draw
the elf away from the fallen ranger, but Legolas was having none of it. If his
mood had been bad before, it was positively abysmal now. First Glorfindel, now
Aragorn – enough was enough.
Before the orc had even time to blink, Legolas had moved
forward, eyes hard and steely and dark with more than just annoyance. The
brightly gleaming steel of a blade cut through the air, moving so swiftly that
it was hardly more than a silver blur, and a moment later the orc fell to the
ground with its throat cut neatly from ear to ear. The fair haired elf didn't
even give his fallen opponent a second glance before he turned back around to
his human friend who
was still lying on the ground, hands clapped tightly over his
wounded side.
After making sure that Aragorn was safe for the moment, he
turned back, his eyes seeking out the twins and the others, and what he saw
made
his blood run cold. Elvynd and his men hadn't managed to break through to them
completely, and had in turn been separated themselves. The young dark haired
captain and two of his men were fighting close to the twins and Glorfindel,
while the remaining two had been pushed back down the path. There weren't more
than three
or four
orcs left now, but instead of feeling relieved dread was
beginning to spread inside of Legolas, and that was mainly because of one thing:
The second troupe of orcs had caught up with them.
Legolas' eyes widened slightly as he saw the horde of at
least thirty additional orcs at his companions' back, only half a minute away
now. They might be able to eliminate the orcs here before the main force
arrived, but there was no way they would get out of this together, not with two
seriously injured people and outnumbered at least four to one.
The elven prince pressed his lips together as he came to a
decision and sprung forward, reaching Aragorn's side in an instant. Without
pausing to heed his friend's sounds of pain he grabbed the man's arm and dragged
him to his feet, whirling back to the others a moment later.
"Elladan!" he called in Elvish. "We have to split up! We
can't fight our way out of here!"
The older twin looked up from where he was wrenching his
sword out of the body of a fallen orc and quickly surveyed his surroundings,
coming to the same conclusion Legolas had reached a few moments ago. Without
wasting time he nodded into Legolas' direction and grabbed his brother's arm,
motioning him to get the motionless elf he was still tending to his feet.
"Go," he called to Elvynd and his men. "Get to the next guard
post. We will meet in the valley. Hurry!"
The dark haired captain hesitated for a moment, apparently
loath to leave his lord's sons alone, but then he too saw that they didn't have
any other choice. He nodded at the two warriors that were still fighting a
couple of orcs a little further back, and only half a second later the two of
them disappeared between the trees as soundlessly as wraiths in the night.
"Go, my lords," he called to Elladan and his brother who were
trying to move as quickly as they could with the unconscious elf lord between
them. "Take the first horse you find and get him to Lord Elrond. We will follow
you."
For a moment, it appeared that Elrohir wanted to protest, but
then he inclined his head and they also disappeared from sight. Legolas didn't
waste any time trying to see which way they had taken and grabbed Aragorn's arm
a little more tightly, trying to support as much of his friend's weight as
possible and not even wanting to think about what these quick movements would
most likely do to his wound. He cast a quick look around, looking for his
horse, and finally spotted it to their far right, close to the approaching orcs.
The
animal was at least forty
yards away – forty
yards that were littered with orc
corpses – and by the time they would have reached it, the orcs would have
arrived to cut them into tiny little pieces.
Giving an inward curse, Legolas turned back around and began
to hurry over to the thicket to his left that was shadowed by dark, towering
trees.
"Can you run, Aragorn?"
"If … the necessity should … arise," the young man gasped
out, his face chalky-white and his lips pressed tightly together.
"Trust me," Legolas said wryly and sped up his hurried walk.
"It just has. Run!"
The dark haired ranger clenched his teeth and moved as
quickly as he could, doing his best to ignore the pain that was pulsing through
him with every step. The shrieks of the orcs behind them grew louder and louder
still, and just when he was certain that they would surely be caught, they reached
the trees and disappeared between their thick trunks.
Legolas breathed a sigh of relief as the soft
whispering of
the trees surrounded them, but didn't pause in the slightest. He continued as
quickly as his companion could move, and after what felt like an eternity the
shouts and sounds of pursuits had faded and were not even audible for one
blessed with elven hearing.
He still
pressed on, his thoughts going round in his head so fast that he was beginning to feel dizzy – which, however, might also
have been connected with the blow to the head he had received earlier. This was
not good, he ranted inwardly, not good at all. He didn't know these parts very
well; all he knew was essentially that you kept away from the Far
North if you
valued your life. He was willing to bet that the orcs knew this region better
than he did, and the one person who could have told him where to go was hanging
barely conscious in his arms.
No, he continued furiously, this was not good. It was
night, their pursuers could therefore move about as they pleased, and in the
dark their senses rivalled his. They were moving farther and farther away from
Rivendell and safety, and if they turned, they would be caught. He had no idea
if there were any caves or shelter of any other kind nearby, Aragorn was getting
ever closer to losing consciousness and he had no healing supplies or even a
couple of bandages. Elbereth, no, not good.
Legolas tightened his hold on his semiconscious friend and
gave him a quick look, wincing openly when he saw how pale the man was. His skin
looked almost translucent in the pale moonlight, and there was a cold sweat
beading his brow. Even more than that, however, Legolas was frightened by
the blood
he could feel between his fingers, the dark red fluid that still
flowed from the wound in the man's side.
"Not much further now, mellon nín," he murmured
softly, even though he had told his friends
these words so often in the past
two hours that they had
long lost their meaning to him. "You can rest soon."
It wasn't clear if Aragorn had heard him or not, but finally
he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod that Legolas' sharp eyes almost missed
in the darkness. Feeling slightly heartened by
this sign of the man's awareness,
small as it may be, he looked up, trying to find something that might give them
shelter this night. Finally his eyes came to rest on a large beech tree that
looked comfortable enough, and even though he knew what Aragorn thought about
sleeping in trees he began to steer them over to it.
It took them longer to reach the beech than it should have,
but in the end they managed to cover the short distance, Legolas now carrying
more or less all of his human friend's weight. As carefully as he could the
elven prince lowered the man to the forest floor before he took a step back and
surveyed the tree more closely. The first branches that would be able to support
Aragorn's weight and were thick enough so that the man wouldn't fall off
immediately were at least ten feet above the ground, but that didn't worry him
overly much. He would manage to get the ranger up there, but he would need space
to tend his injuries and wouldn't be able to rely on the fact that Aragorn was
aware enough to cling to a branch or even keep still.
The elf sighed inwardly, exhaustion from the fight and the
constant worry for Aragorn and the others beginning to well up inside of him. He
would need to build a makeshift talan if he didn't want Aragorn to topple
off a branch as soon as they had reached it. To build a flet wouldn't be a
problem; he had built them ever since he had been old enough to climb a tree. He
and his friends had even had a little competition for a few dozen years, about
which of them could build a talan the quickest. More often than not, he
had won these little games, but Celylith had beaten him frequently. Glónduil,
however, had ever been hopeless.
With another inward curse that wished all orcs ever spawned
down into the pits of Angband where they belonged he crouched down in front of
his friend who hadn't moved an inch since Legolas had helped him sit down.
Renewed worry gnawing at him, Legolas reached out and placed a hand against the
man's cheek, trying to tell himself that the heat he felt there was because of
the strenuous walk here and not because of some sort of fever.
"Aragorn?" he asked softly. "Aragorn, can you hear me? Estel!"
He waited a few seconds, and just when he thought that the man must have lost
consciousness Aragorn's eyelids slowly opened, revealing darkened silver eyes
glazed with pain and confusion. "Estel, can you hear me? Answer me!"
"Yes," the man muttered after some failed attempts to speak.
"What … where…"
"North of Rivendell," Legolas answered curtly, quickly
checking the soaked makeshift bandage that was still fastened about the man's
middle. "Your brothers got away safely, don't worry," he anticipated the man's
next question.
"Glorfindel?" Aragorn asked weakly.
Legolas pressed his lips together and briefly considered
lying in order not to upset the human, but finally answered truthfully.
"I do not know," he admitted softly. "He was alive when I saw
him last, but that is all I can tell you." Aragorn didn't give any indication
that he had heard the elf's words, but Legolas continued, unwilling to stay here
on the ground any longer than they had to. "Aragorn, I have to scout the area and
gather some wood to build a talan; we need to hide properly before I can
look after your wound. I want you to stay here and not move a single muscle, do
you understand? The bushes here should cover you well enough, and as long as you
don't move, no one should see you. I will be back soon. Do you hear me?"
The man nodded slowly without opening his eyes again, and Legolas
reached out and briefly squeezed his shoulder.
"I'll be back as soon as I can. Be safe."
Aragorn slowly opened his eyes and gave the elf something
that was probably meant to be a smile.
"Don't worry. If … if someone comes, I will pretend to be a
bush."
"That is well, then," Legolas smiled back. "Your hair always
looks as if birds are
nesting in it anyway. All but the most attentive
observers will be fooled."
The elf grinned at the indignant look that flittered over his
friend's face and got back to his feet, and in a matter of seconds he had
disappeared between the dark trees. He did, however, regret this course of
action, and rather soon at that. Only a few hundred yards away from the large
beech tree he all but ran into a landslide that was so big that Legolas
suspected half of the hill to his left had come down sometime during the last
heavy rainfall.
Knowing full well how much orcs and goblins liked to hide in
such an environment he began to search every single square inch of the
landslide, which took far longer than he would have liked. After he was
sufficiently satisfied that there were no orcs or any other foul beings hidden
here, he continued moving around their future camp in a wide arc, finally
returning to the beech tree where he had left Aragorn.
The elf gave the dark, starry sky a quick look, realising
that it had taken him more than an hour to scout the area. Searching the landslide
in the darkness had taken far longer than he had thought, and
worry once again began to rise inside of him. He hadn't meant to leave the man
alone for so long; what if the wound had reopened? What if
Aragorn
had bled the whole
time while he had been turning over stones in the mud?
Legolas shook his head quickly as he stepped out of the
shadow of the trees around him and walked over to the beech, his eyes wandering
over the thick bushes surrounding the trunk.
"I am sorry, Estel," he said softly as he rounded the tree,
"I didn't mean to take this long. There was a landslide; it looks as if most of
a hill simply crumbled during that rainstorm a few days ago and…"
Three paces later the elf stopped as if he had run into an
invisible wall, his body coming to a full stop in less than a second. His eyes
widened in shock as he realised that he was alone, and that Aragorn was nowhere
to be seen.
TBC...
muindor nín - my brother (as opposed to 'gwador' or 'gwanur'; I don't think
that the twins would call Aragorn 'sworn brother' ('gwador') since they so often
insist that he is their 'real' brother, human or not)
ada - father (daddy)
mellyn nín (pl.) - my friends
mellon nín (sg.) - my friend
talan - flet, wooden platform in the trees
Ah yes, I think the reckless human is quite unable to
actually heed orders. shakes head sadly One of these days, he's going to get
into a lot of trouble this way... evil grin Then again, it might happen sooner
than expected! Be that as it may, I'll try to post the next chapter on
Thursday, if I can find enough time. Reviews always help, just like this time!
So: Review? Yes please! g
Additional A/N:
Crippled Raven
- It's a miracle you remembered it! I mentioned it only once,
after all, so well done! g Indeed, what's up with Glorfindel ... we'll find
out, in chapter 5 I'm afraid. You'll have to wait a little. LOL, I don't know if
Aragorn mistook Legolas for Barbie, even though I have to admit that it's a
definite possibility! evil grin The hair and all that...
Jazmin3 Firewing - Well, yes, all I can say is that I am VERY glad that
you're NOT a medieval doctor. Somehow I don't think that Glorfindel would be
very pleased if someone tried to put some leeches on him or something like
that... g Talking to Elrond sounds a lot better. But hey, did you really
expect our favourite reborn elf lord to do the obvious or reasonable thing? Nah,
I didn't think so. g
Deana - It all depends on how exactly you define "angst", I think. If you
interpret it as worry and physical pain, then yes, there will be lots of angst.
There will be more emotional problems and pain for Aragorn and Glorfindel,
though, sorry. It's Marbienl's story, after all. apologetic smile
Tmelange - Uhm, well, thank you! It's nice to hear that you liked the
first chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy the rest as well! Thanks for the review!
CSI3 - As I said in the A/N, I WILL write a sequel, but not for some
time. There is this evil college paper I have to write first, and about a
thousand other things that just won't go away. So, I guess I'll start posting
sometime after the 20th. Sorry for the dealy.
Alasse Tiwele - blinks Do you have any idea how fast posting every four
days is? For me, that's close to phenomenal! I hope you didn't mind waiting for
a few days, though. I know how annoying it can be when people don't update on
time! g Thank you very much, btw. It's always great to hear that my English
isn't all that bad. My first language is German, and my second is Latin, even
though that doesn't really count, I think. I can read but not speak it, after
all. g
Marbienl - I had been suspecting something like that, to be honest. Don't
worry though, I wouldn't mind if you really WERE using a voodoo doll or
something like that. My mother and sister are constantly casting spells and
generally pretend to be witches. It can be quite annoying. g Oh, you know the
original version of Braveheart? I like the movie, a lot to be honest, but Mel
Gibson's accent! My God, it's so horrible! shudders It's a miracle that the
Scottish actors didn't kill him on the spot... Thanks for asking, the paper is
finished and is currently being marked. I don't think it's going to be very
good, since I didn't find a lot of original sources I could quote, but what the
heck. It's over. g You still believe that stuff about balling your fists to
prevent catching a cold? You really ARE strange... Don't worry about the carving
though, it's going to be fine. Elrond would strangle Legolas, after all... g
Great to hear that you're enjoying this so far! huggles
Just Jordy - Whoah, calm down, it's okay. You don't have to review every
single chapter - even though that would be very appreciated. g The most
important thing is that you're enjoying the story. Sorry about Anardir though.
He was doomed from the start, I fear... pats Anardir's head
Lindahoyland - Finally, someone who is actually telling me what I'm doing
wrong! Thank you, I mean it! I will try to keep your corrections in mind, but
there are - unfortunately - a few things I'll never learn, I fear. I will do my
best though, and one of these days I will manage to post a chapter without a
single mistake! When I'm about 85 or something like that... g Anyway, thanks a
lot for pointing these things out, and thanks for taking the time to review!
Elvendancer - You are right, you know. If Elrond actually learned to
listen to his inner voice, all of us would miss a lot of fun... evil grin Poor
elves and rangers. In the end, they're all still alive - most of the time, of
course. There are exceptions... cackles evilly
Snow-Glory - It's nice to hear that you're enjoying this so far, even
though I don't think Aragorn laughed when Legolas pured the water over him.
shrugs I don't know why either. Thanks a lot for reviewing - again!
Pyro - Yeah, we all love Númenor, don't we? At least I do. LOL, doos
question, who is going to be turned into a chewtoy? I think that's quite hard to
say actually - most of them. Or all of them, I'm not quite sure yet... g
Ellyrianna - So I've made you happy, huh? Glad to be of service! There is
indeed going to be quite a lot of angst and pain and all that in here, so don't
worry. And I even think that there's quite a bit of it in this chapter, so you
can enjoy your time in Mexiko, knowing that Aragorn is suffering... g I have
to admit though that I've never heard of "Tuck Everlasting". Did I miss
anything? I don't know if I read that story, but the title reminds me of
something. Maybe I have read it, must have been some time ago though. Is it a
parody? I think I remember something like that...
TrinityTheSheDevil - LOL, no, that didn't sound right at all. It sounded
rather weird, but I'll ignore it. g I really hope you're not spending your day
waiting for the author alert though. That would be quite scary. g
Silvertoekee - What can I say, I'm trying to keep to the canon as closely
as possible. I hate all these fics where the authors simply claim something
entirely ridiculous because they didn't check it out first. I love those "an elf
(not Elrond/Eärendil/ElwingArwen/the twins) gives up his/her immortality for a
man/woman stories". Hello? They can't! CAN'T!!! takes a deep breath Sorry,
sometimes they get too much. g To answer your question: They will get into a
LOT of trouble. But you already knew that, I guess. g
Uineniel - Yes, the sentence structure is my main nemesis at the moment.
I don't have much trouble with the grammar or the vocabulary, but sometimes I
know that a sentence sounds odd and I just don't know how to correct it. sighs
There are some things I will never learn, I think. And of course Glorfindel is a
very nice elf! I love him, which is why he's in this fic! huggles elf lord I
don't think he's overly happy about being here, though... g Thanks a lot for
the review!
Tychen - LOL, yes, I love torturing the "Dynamic Four". It's their own
fault - why are they so adorable, after all? g You're right, Elrond should
have been called "Estel" instead of Aragorn. I think it's the only way he's
remained sane until now... I hope today is alright and not too late? I really
couldn't make it any sooner...
Grumpy - Great you liked the flowers. The twins and Legolas would most
probably not agree, but still... g Ah yes, what is Glorfindel's problem...
We'll find out soon. In chapter 5, so that's another two weeks or so. Not long.
g Thanks for reviewing!
LOTRFaith - Don't worry, the twins and Co. aren't THAT blind. They might
not see certain doom even if it's tapping them on the shoulder, but they've
noticed that something's bothering poor Glorfindel. Not that it would help much,
of course... g
HarryEstel - Thank you! It's nice to hear that you've enjoyed the last
chapter; I hope you'll like the rest as well! Thanks a lot for the review!
Gwyn - I love the dear golden haired elf as well, even though I have to
admit that I'm not really into slash. There are quite a lot of good stories and
wonderful slash authors out there, but most of the time I find the plots so
unlikely (and that means a lot, coming from me! g) that I just can't take the
fics seriously. shrugs Ah well. But I agree that he needs a bit of angst now
and then. Everybody does, doesn't he? g
Aratfeniel - I think you're right, you know. He has tried to escape me at
least a dozen times now - I really don't know why! I thought he'd be happy to
get a little bit of attention now and then... shakes head Males.
Nietta - Yeah, well, five chapters IS short for me. I had loads of
trouble not to write six or more! I know, I know, I'm pathetic and/or insane...
g LOL, you're right of course, all Glorfindel needs is a hug! Maybe I should
tell Elrond ... nah, it'll be more fun this way... evil grin Oh, one thing: In
your last review for TWIN you suggested that I let Aragorn and Cendan meet again
when Aragorn is King of Gondor. As much as I'd like to do that, it won't be
possible, since that's about 65 years from now - Cendan would be dead or about
90 years old. g It was a good idea, though.
Vampy2k - It's very flattering that you've been waiting for this story,
thanks a lot! It's always great to hear that some people enjoy my weird little
stories... g And you are so right, Poor Estel. He's really not a very lucky
person, is he? evil grin
Gozilla - Thanks! It's nice to hear that you're enjoying this so far!
Thanks a lot for the review!
Kathleen LaCorneille - You have internet access now? Congratulations! I
know how horrible it is not to have internet access at home ... I am usually
going crazy by day four. g I think the twins and Legolas aren't all that happy
that Aragorn painted a few flowers on their weapons though. Don't ask me why -
they're weird. g Glad you liked the squirrels, too. They can be vicious little
beasts, believe me! LOL, yes, you're right, of course Estel will be hurt. This
is MARBIENL's Birthday story, after all. g And Glorfindel isn't exactly angry
at Elrond, he's just ... well, you'll have to wait a bit to find out, sorry!
Thanks a lot for the long review!
Maranwe1 - LOL, yes, I laughed too when I realised that "To Walk in
Night" is TWIN. g You people and your abbreviations... As I said in the A/N,
the sequel to TWIN (snickers) will be here in a month or a something like
that. I hope. g It's wonderful if you could find only a few mistakes. It's far
better than getting a metre-long list every chapter... And I totally agree,
btw. I wouldn't be very happy if someone poured ice-cold water over me, but I
guess that you would spend most of your life not speaking or moving if you're
living with the twins. I have the nasty suspicion that this wasn't the first
little ... joke they played on their poor innocent little brother... g Your
review was far from awful, and I hope that you and your mother have worked
things out!
Radbooks - Trust me, you can't overwhelm my inbox. It's rather big, and I
think I've never even needed more than 15 % of it or something. But it was very
considerate of you, thanks! g I'm sorry for putting "your Glorfindel" through
so much pain ... no, wait, I don't really think I am. evil grin But it's not
my fault, it's Marbienl's, at least in a way. Thank you very much for your
wonderful review! huggles
Enigma Jade - g Well, it's nice to see that some people enjoy
Glorfindel angst! I have become rather fond of it myself while writing this, to
be honest... g And I agree: Poor Elrond. I really think he'll go insane one of
these days.. pats elf lord's head Poor elf.
Katie - LOL! That's a good one! Elrond kicked Glorfindel's puppy...
giggles I really fell off my chair when I read that... But you are right, of
course, the hunting party will get into loads of trouble. Who'd have thought?
evil grin
Nikara - I really, honestly don't know. It's in AEFAE, mainly in chapter
18 and 21, I think, but I'm not really sure. It's been a long time, I'm
afraid... If you really want to know, I can look it up though.
Cosmic Castaway - Well, IF you decide to draw it, I demand that you send
me a copy of the picture! I would love to see what you come up with... g I
imagine they could say that, though. I think they know that going anywhere
together will almost certainly end in doom and pain and blood. They can't be so
naive to expect anything else after all, can they? Here's the next chapter, so
don't even think about trying to punish me! I have a pet balrog and I'm not
afraid to use it! g
Zinnith - You've got yourself a summer job? Congratulations! It's almost
impossible to get anything here, so be assured that I am very jealous of you!
g I'm glad you like "my" Glorfindel, though, thanks for saying it! I think
he's rather hard to write, even harder than Erestor. shrugs Sometimes I really
have problems with the two of them. And I have to tell you that your guess isn't
all that bad! The only thing is that Eärendil was seven years old when Gondolin
was destroyed, and I guess that Elrond wouldn't be too happy if he reminded
Glorfindel of a seven-years-old child. g But it's close, very close! Congrats!
Glad to hear that you like trolls. I'm more into balrogs myself, but I can see
the advantages a pet troll would have. g I hope your shoulder is better now,
and thanks a lot for the long review!
KLMeri - No, Glorfindel is indeed not thinking straight at the moment. At
least not entirely straight. I'll shut up now before this begins to sound really
wrong... g And you're right, he won't have that talk right away - but that's
not really his fault, is it... No, of course not. Poor Glorfindel. pats his
head
Galadhriel Vornionien - Well, and here I thought elves were patient as a
rule ... it appears that I was wrong... evil grin And to answer your
questions: I am trying to post the last chapter on Thursday in a week, since I
am going to visit my friends in England once again. I'll try to finish this
story before then, but with my college paper I can't make any promises yet. But
it should be doable - it's only five chapters long, after all. I hope so,
anyway. g
Emiri-chan - blushes Well ... thank you! I am very glad you liked it so
far, and if you want to, you may indeed write that vignette. I have no intention
- or time, I'm afraid - of doing it myself. Glorfindel is indeed rather
depressed at the moment, poor elfsie that he is. And I don't try to make all
these jokes, I just can't help myself. Every time I try to write an entirely
serious scene they just appear, no matter how hard I try. It's rather
disconcerting to say the least - I can't control my story or my cahracters.
shakes head That's rather pathetic, isn't it? But I admire people who can
write such scenes, so if you managed to write something without inappropriate
humour: Congrats! Well done! Thank you very much for the long, funny review! huggles
As always: Thank you very much! I love and cherish every one of your reviews
- I'm serious, people. I really do, very much so. g