Hi!
As I promised, another update this week. Including a tiny cliffie - don´t kill me, I could not resist.
Things are beginning to get a bit nasty now - this chapter is warming things up a bit, get prepared ;-)
Thanks to San for her very quick editing, and as always thank you for your reviews (big!! hug).
Now enjoy the beginning darkness :)
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine
So it begins
It stirred. The darkness around it shifted, paling to a dull grey in the presence of the vampire's dark soul. The creature awakened and stretched its evil mind, feeling stronger again after its rest. Its sightless head reared from the abyss, white waters fleeing off its slick surface in cascades. Its peace had been most deliciously disturbed by the first harbingers of victory. There was movement. The one whom the creature had meant to coax out of safety had left it on his own account. He would be unerringly guided to his destiny. But first matters first. The vampire turned its head the other way, eye sockets beginning to glow without light. It was readying itself. Readying to take on those who headed so bravely into its direction.
The vampire rose from the feeding waters, bones of animal shells slipping past it into the pool with dull thuds. There was no need to call forth new minions from the dead. No need for further games; just the need to shatter those that sought to protect the one soul that had escaped its claws into the body of a youngling. A snarl vibrated through the bony form. Never had it hated with that much heat and ferocity. The one who had forced the entity into its long slumber had then used its captor's slow awakening to flee and even protect its next victim. What easy prey the young elf would have been otherwise. So careless he had been. So happy in a world that would soon be devoid of light.
The vampire could still picture what it had read in the elven Prince´s mind that day. He had been celebrating a victory over a small pack of wargs. Together with his human friend he had enjoyed life as if a great danger had been defeated. How foolish to leave one´s mind thus unguarded in times of rising darkness. It had been easy to plant the song inside the young one´s soul and coax him towards his doom where death would have waited had there not been interference. Yet the creature planned to finish what it had started that day. Now there would be no escape.
The vampire lifted itself on the swirling wind that arose around it and turned, sensing what lingered in the cool air. Riders. It smiled. There was passion in the approaching group, courage and love. But hate as well. Oh yes. No song would be needed to lure the game to its doom this time. It would come all by itself.
And so the vampire waited, no longer hiding but presenting itself to the cloud-ridden sky in expectation of the fight. It hovered against the night like a vulture ready to descend on the rotting flesh it had spotted; barely throwing a shadow since all darkness it emanated strained back towards it. More clouds formed above the creature, turning circles on the wind that caressed the bony frame with increasing force. The rushing air began to groan, finding a voice that would soon herald the doom in its midst to the world. The vampire relished its own growing power and turned it towards the approaching enemy. It felt for the weakest mind of its foes and it smiled when it found a soul that would react to its call. A call that would this time not become shrouded in song. So strong this mind was in all ways but one. What a delicious battle this would be.
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There was movement in the woods. Legolas felt rather than heard it and his head snapped up from the doze he must have fallen into. He had no memory of leaving Imladris, of entering the forest in darkness. Dazed, he looked to the side and clearly saw the bones that flashed white beneath the underbrush that lined the path. The trees whispered desperate warnings that filled the air with a flurry of sounds but the elf felt a strange reassurance that no harm would come to him, not here. Not by the claws of these creatures. Even so, his very soul ached for the living beings that had been so unnaturally twisted.
Turning his eyes from this gruesome escort, Legolas found his gaze wandering to his hands that clutched Faun's mane tightly. His knuckles were turning white. He idly wondered why he felt the urge to hold on like that, but then the woods around him answered the question for him by violently lurching to the left. The elf swayed precariously and sensed the horse beneath him tense and step aside swiftly, restoring their balance. Legolas´ heart raced. Sweat was collecting at his temples and neck, slithering down his back in cold trails. He shivered.
He realized with dull surprise that the wood could not have moved. It had all been in his mind. He had to be sick with injury. But why was he so sick? What was he doing in these dark woods?
Confused, the elf bid his horse to stop and Faun obeyed reluctantly, trembling and snorting. Legolas closed his eyes and drew deep breaths in an effort to compose himself. The air smelled dangerous, as if the odour of battle was travelling on its wings. The odour of death... Aragorn!
Blue eyes snapping open, Legolas remembered. He remembered the horror his best friend had ridden out to face, so unprepared and so vulnerable in his mortality. And he, the immortal who had unwittingly unleashed the evil that now roamed this once so peaceful valley sat still on his horse like a small elfling who had gotten lost in the woods. Without thinking he dug both heels into Faun's heaving sides and the horse reacted immediately by lunging forwards, almost forcing his rider off his back.
Instead of heading towards his friend, Legolas found the woods turning a bright red. Agony shot through his leg at being so viciously moved, and the waves that it sent through him were strong enough to first blur the world around him and then wash it away entirely.
The pain was drowning him. Legolas was dimly aware that he could feel the forest floor beneath him and the small fracture of his mind still capable of rational thought scolded him for his childish impatience. Then his mind's voice was joined by a second, darker one. Legolas could not understand it, for it seemed to speak to him muffled by a wall of confusion. Yet it would not let him be, urgently pushing him to wake, to move.
While he was lying in a crumbled heap on the ground, creatures began to gather around him. His eyes, still open despite his ordeal, took in the white, bony legs that crossed his line of vision. Bare claws devoid of flesh that dug into the earth. He took in the hoofed legs that swiftly moved to scatter the white creatures, only to have them return heartbeats later. The sights made as little sense to him as the sounds and finally his tired mind cut off his connection to the world, plunging him into darkness.
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"Daro!" [Stop!]
Glorfindel´s call registered with Aragorn through the swirl of thoughts that had kept his mind busy during their swift ride through the night. He turned Gwaef around, aware that the elves would have reacted more swiftly than him and would be waiting behind him, and then joined the waiting group in a trot.
Glorfindel sat still on his steed, eyes unfocussed as he felt into the growing wind. Beside him, Elrond was motionless in a similar fashion, breathing deeply. The twins glanced at Aragorn as he approached. Two sets of stormy eyes shone at the human with impatience, but none said a word lest they would break the elder elves´ attention. Elladan brow was furrowed, though, and he abruptly turned Ninim to face away from the small circle they had instinctively formed. Elrohir exchanged a worried look with his human brother.
Aragorn shifted uneasily. The winds were growing more persistent, hunting the clouds across the dark sky as if about to devour them. Sounds rode on the gusts that raised the little hairs at the ranger's neck and he realized with a cold start that he had heard them before. The clinging panic he had felt those days back when he had guided a stumbling Faun and his motionless rider through the rain came back in a rush. They had found shelter in a cave but they had been pursued. He could still see the bony creature breaking through the sheen of water, knocking him senseless in its first assault as if he were an inexperienced boy rather than the able warrior he knew himself to be. It was close. He could feel it in the air.
"Ta na lá haya" Glorfindel stated, his gaze turning away from the group, past where Elladan was facing. Aragorn blinked in surprise at the fact that the Balrog Slayer had spoken in Quenya, making no move to explain his words. The ancient elf seemed detached from them, almost as if part him was not with them anymore but racing towards their foe already.
"Aye", Elrond agreed quietly, "it is not far away indeed. The time has come for us to face our enemy, the one who threatens life and soul of Imladris and all who dwell there. We need to strike as one, fight as one, be as one." His words filled the air with a force that was shimmering at the brink of becoming a visible bond, and even Elladan turned his head, locking eyes with his father who was now staring at his oldest son with undisguised concern.
"Maetha min, ion-nin." [Fight (as) one, my son.] Elladan held his father's gaze without wavering. "Aye", he answered tensely, "im maethathon, im beriothon mbar-min." [Yes, I will fight, I will protect our home.] His voice was laced with fire. Elrond´s frown deepened. "Maetha min", the elder elf repeated more firmly, "althortho en ruth." [Don´t let anger guide you.] There was something in Elrond's eyes as he spoke that told Aragorn his father had due reason for his warning and glancing at Elrohir. He recognized the same shadow of memory in the younger twin´s eyes.
Elladan remained tense for a long moment, then he relaxed slightly and sighed. "I will not act rashly", he promised softly, "not before the tide of battle turns against us and anger is all that is left in our defence." Almost as an afterthought he added: "May the Valar forbid that to come to pass." Elrond nodded slowly, his forehead smoothed but worry still lingering in his eyes. He then straightened and addressed all three of his sons. "Glorfindel and I will take the lead. Do not pass us before I tell you. Whatever happens, remain behind our backs until you are told otherwise. Once the time comes, spread out. Encircle it. Our chances will be greater when we force the vampire to divide its attention. Strive to destroy its body. We shall go after its soul."
Silence followed the words that sounded so simple yet carried the weight of death. A circle in battle could not be broken or it would lose its function. Whenever a gap appeared it needed to be filled. There would be no time to care for the wounded. Not before the foe was slain. Aragorn steeled his mind. He could feel the concern for his family retreating before the force of his will, backing into the very depth of his soul. And slowly, released from its carefully guarded cage, the cold urge to kill emerged. It would guide his steps in battle. It crouched and hissed at him, and the ranger embraced its presence, sure of the control he had over it.
The groans in the wind turned to wails. Elladan head whipped around in answer, his eyes darkening. The horses whinnied and pawed the ground. Glorfindel broke their circle and allowed his mount to prance ahead a few spaces. The darkness thickened. "In Valar berio fea-min." [(May) the Valar protect our souls.] With these words, Elrond urged his horse onward and soon the thunder of hooves rivalled the growing force of the storm.
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Legolas opened his eyes slowly. He felt as if he was floating. A stream was carrying him away and he was hopeless to fight it. Squinting, he realized that he was atop Faun once more. They were moving through the forest away from any path. The stallion trembled and heaved beneath him despite the relatively slow gait the ground forced upon them. Had they been riding like this for a while?
Suddenly, there was a snarling hiss in front of them. Faun reared slightly, his angry neigh close to a screech, and bones crushed beneath his hooves when they found the ground once more. Legolas sat transfixed, awed by the lack of dizziness he felt. And the lack of pain. He didn't feel much from his body at all, except detachment. As if somebody else was in control. The feeling was frightening and soothing at the same time. His eyes sought out the forest floor and came to rest on the crushed bones of what might have been a fox. They were swiftly becoming unimportant, though, at the sight of more bony creatures that dashed to and fro around them. Faun's legs were covered in blood. There were tooth marks on them and gashes.
In the distance, Legolas heard the voice of the Bruinen. The rushing waters seemed urgent, even more so than the trees that moaned and warned all about them. The river was calling to them, and its voice was angry.
"A lorna, nessa meldo." [Sleep, young friend.] The soft words seemed to rise from the forest floor beneath him, encompassing his mind in a gentle embrace. "A hauta ar inye hiruvanye vanta-i-lwen." [Rest and I will find our path.]
The urgent calling of the Bruinen in his ears, Legolas gave in to the tender urging and allowed the darkness to rise once more.
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Gwaef shook his head and strained against Aragorn's staying hands. The stallion shook his head and neighed in annoyance, his anger challenging the rain that was driving hard against them now. Despite of the situation, a grim smile crossed Aragorn's features in the face of his horse's impatience. "Dinen, Gwaef", [Quiet, Gweaf] he scolded lightly, "the battle will come to us soon enough, even without you in the lead."
In front of him, Elrond and Glorfindel were clearly visible even though the darkness of the storm added to that of night. A blue glimmer seemed to shroud the older elves, its sight giving the ranger hope. To both of his sides, his eleven brothers were mere shadows speeding along in silence. The wind that pressed against them made it hard to gaze onwards and breathe at the same time, so Aragorn had taken to breathing to the side before turning his face to where they were heading again. The elves were undisturbed by such physical troubles, never losing their focus, and the ranger was afraid he would miss the first sight of their foe when it finally appeared.
He should not have worried, for the vampire had no intention of hiding. It was about to show itself in all its glory.
A great roll of thunder made Gwaef jump slightly. Aragorn placed a steadying hand on the horse's neck, wondering that he had not seen any lightning, when another, louder clap rang in his ears and suddenly there was light all about them. It was dancing in withering streaks out of the sky. The thunder became of never ending roar. The flashes encircled them, forcing Elrond and Glorfindel to sharply halt their mounts.
Blue light crackled dangerously. The winds picked up again, disturbing the ground and rushing in circles through their fiery prison. Sand and pebbles were carried up by its strength and clouded the ranger's vision as he peered about. On pure instinct, he turned his gaze upwards just in time to see a dark shadow descending upon them from above.
The flickering light danced in blue traces along the creature that slowly lowered itself closer to the ground. Its threatening hiss penetrated the thunder's continuous rumble. To Aragorn's eyes the great shape danced and swam, only its bony core of strangely assembled bones never lost its clarity. He could make out a massive skull, the open mouth lined with gleaming teeth, eyes shining with darkness. The claws that stretched towards them were bent, ready to draw blood. The vampire's body moved almost gracefully on the rushing winds, never straying from its straight path.
Squinting, Aragorn thought to catch a glimpse of great bat-like wings that seemed to appear and disappear as erratically as the flashing bolts of lightning that lit the vampire's arrival. With it, dark hides swam about the bony structure, never quite there and yet always present. Strangely, it felt to the human that it was this wavering shape that was real while the clearly visible bones were no more than a façade whose destruction would hardly matter.
Glorfindel and Elrond had steered their horses in front of the elven Lord´s sons, keeping their dancing steeds in place. Aragorn threw a quick glance to his brothers and saw cold determination on Elrohir face. Elladan, however, seemed mesmerised. His eyes had turned so dark they appeared black. Bolts of lightning were mirrored in them as if they were nothing but glass orbs. Frightened by the sight, the human nudged his brother with his knee. Elladan turned his head and smiled darkly.
The ground shook as the clashes of thunder grumbled almost in unison with a force that seemed great enough to split the very earth beneath them. Lightning lit up brightly when the claws of the vampire finally touched the ground. Then there was darkness.
Only the wind remained. Aragorn's skin felt as if it was about the crawl off his body and flee. He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword, hissing in surprise when sparks flew as he drew it in preparation. The black void around him caused his heart to race uncontrollably and when light reappeared he felt a panic that he had not known to be building inside him slowly abate.
The light was blue once more, yet this time it held a tinge of warmth and clarity that had been absent from the white-hot flashes. Steadily, the light grew stronger around both Elrond and Glorfindel. Aragorn gasped in recognition, for none who had ever been caressed by Vilya's glow would ever forget it. How could that be? Elrond did not hold forth the ring and neither did the light seem to come from his hand. It flowed from the elven lords forms freely as if poured forth by their bodies.
The vampire screeched in a sound that carried a surprise that Aragorn understood despite its alien nature. The bony frame reared when Vilya´s glow touched upon it, and the white structures seemed to bend and melt as if devoured by a funeral pyre´s hungry flame. The arrogant strength that had shone through the creature's appearance fell away to reveal a hot anger. The head turned atop the writhing body, eyes searching. And finding its prey.
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The vampire screamed at the pain that crushed his stolen body to pieces and threatened to break through to the core of its being. Never before had it met such power, and it was smart enough to acknowledge its superior. The light needed to be drowned; doused by the blood and despair of those who used it.
With an effort, the creature forced its head to turn, seeking out the one it had marked as its tool long before the dark young elf had appeared before it. Eyes met, and the vampire felt a rush of hunger come towards it that almost matched its own. There was nothing the vampire had to create. All it had to do was unleash what was already there.
Hate truly was the strongest of allies.
TBC
Review responses:
Moralinde: Oh yes, stubborn indeed. And you are right that a stronger force than Legolas of Gondolin will be needed to defeat the vampire.
Night Shadow 131: LOL, it was Legolas of Gondolin who helped him get out of Imladris - and he´s taking over the wheel almost completely now, aided by the fact that our Legolas is really far too ill to be up and about. I get my Elvish from three dictionaries. I´m trying my best, but I guess any real elf would skin me for my efforts...
Beling: I´m glad I could make you laugh a little :) LOL, I agree that the "eyebrow" will not be enough, but on the other hand Lord Elrond may be too happy to have the prince back alive to actually scold him too much- if he should make it back alive, that is...Thanks for your kind words.
Someone reading: Thank you! You are quite right to worry about Elladan - he is strong but the way I see it also very passionate when it comes to defending his home. Elrond let Aragorn take the lead because he wanted to signal to him he knew of his human son´s strength. He wanted to encourage him.
Gozilla: I hope this was soon enough ;-)
Tychen: Thanks!! Yes, Legolas 12 will play a vital part - as will love and friendship.
Ertia: Aww (hands over handkerchief), sorry. Well, not really, I´m glad I was able to touch you with that scene. Our "friend" inside is back indeed and very active...
Estel Elven Enchantress: LOL; glad I could not scare you away with my admission. I promise I won´t bite and I certainly won´t grade anybody here :)
White Wolf 1: Legolas will have a very hard time with his injury, but t least he does have some help. And I hope the creeps were back in this chapter when the enemy actually (re)appeared :)
Demon Faith: Yes, I´m glad I have more time for writing, too. This story is becoming rather insistent. Poor elf indeed - and I´m sorry to say his ordeal is not ever yet. Bad me...
Thank you all so much!! Keep the reviews coming, please.
As I promised, another update this week. Including a tiny cliffie - don´t kill me, I could not resist.
Things are beginning to get a bit nasty now - this chapter is warming things up a bit, get prepared ;-)
Thanks to San for her very quick editing, and as always thank you for your reviews (big!! hug).
Now enjoy the beginning darkness :)
Alinah
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine
So it begins
It stirred. The darkness around it shifted, paling to a dull grey in the presence of the vampire's dark soul. The creature awakened and stretched its evil mind, feeling stronger again after its rest. Its sightless head reared from the abyss, white waters fleeing off its slick surface in cascades. Its peace had been most deliciously disturbed by the first harbingers of victory. There was movement. The one whom the creature had meant to coax out of safety had left it on his own account. He would be unerringly guided to his destiny. But first matters first. The vampire turned its head the other way, eye sockets beginning to glow without light. It was readying itself. Readying to take on those who headed so bravely into its direction.
The vampire rose from the feeding waters, bones of animal shells slipping past it into the pool with dull thuds. There was no need to call forth new minions from the dead. No need for further games; just the need to shatter those that sought to protect the one soul that had escaped its claws into the body of a youngling. A snarl vibrated through the bony form. Never had it hated with that much heat and ferocity. The one who had forced the entity into its long slumber had then used its captor's slow awakening to flee and even protect its next victim. What easy prey the young elf would have been otherwise. So careless he had been. So happy in a world that would soon be devoid of light.
The vampire could still picture what it had read in the elven Prince´s mind that day. He had been celebrating a victory over a small pack of wargs. Together with his human friend he had enjoyed life as if a great danger had been defeated. How foolish to leave one´s mind thus unguarded in times of rising darkness. It had been easy to plant the song inside the young one´s soul and coax him towards his doom where death would have waited had there not been interference. Yet the creature planned to finish what it had started that day. Now there would be no escape.
The vampire lifted itself on the swirling wind that arose around it and turned, sensing what lingered in the cool air. Riders. It smiled. There was passion in the approaching group, courage and love. But hate as well. Oh yes. No song would be needed to lure the game to its doom this time. It would come all by itself.
And so the vampire waited, no longer hiding but presenting itself to the cloud-ridden sky in expectation of the fight. It hovered against the night like a vulture ready to descend on the rotting flesh it had spotted; barely throwing a shadow since all darkness it emanated strained back towards it. More clouds formed above the creature, turning circles on the wind that caressed the bony frame with increasing force. The rushing air began to groan, finding a voice that would soon herald the doom in its midst to the world. The vampire relished its own growing power and turned it towards the approaching enemy. It felt for the weakest mind of its foes and it smiled when it found a soul that would react to its call. A call that would this time not become shrouded in song. So strong this mind was in all ways but one. What a delicious battle this would be.
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There was movement in the woods. Legolas felt rather than heard it and his head snapped up from the doze he must have fallen into. He had no memory of leaving Imladris, of entering the forest in darkness. Dazed, he looked to the side and clearly saw the bones that flashed white beneath the underbrush that lined the path. The trees whispered desperate warnings that filled the air with a flurry of sounds but the elf felt a strange reassurance that no harm would come to him, not here. Not by the claws of these creatures. Even so, his very soul ached for the living beings that had been so unnaturally twisted.
Turning his eyes from this gruesome escort, Legolas found his gaze wandering to his hands that clutched Faun's mane tightly. His knuckles were turning white. He idly wondered why he felt the urge to hold on like that, but then the woods around him answered the question for him by violently lurching to the left. The elf swayed precariously and sensed the horse beneath him tense and step aside swiftly, restoring their balance. Legolas´ heart raced. Sweat was collecting at his temples and neck, slithering down his back in cold trails. He shivered.
He realized with dull surprise that the wood could not have moved. It had all been in his mind. He had to be sick with injury. But why was he so sick? What was he doing in these dark woods?
Confused, the elf bid his horse to stop and Faun obeyed reluctantly, trembling and snorting. Legolas closed his eyes and drew deep breaths in an effort to compose himself. The air smelled dangerous, as if the odour of battle was travelling on its wings. The odour of death... Aragorn!
Blue eyes snapping open, Legolas remembered. He remembered the horror his best friend had ridden out to face, so unprepared and so vulnerable in his mortality. And he, the immortal who had unwittingly unleashed the evil that now roamed this once so peaceful valley sat still on his horse like a small elfling who had gotten lost in the woods. Without thinking he dug both heels into Faun's heaving sides and the horse reacted immediately by lunging forwards, almost forcing his rider off his back.
Instead of heading towards his friend, Legolas found the woods turning a bright red. Agony shot through his leg at being so viciously moved, and the waves that it sent through him were strong enough to first blur the world around him and then wash it away entirely.
The pain was drowning him. Legolas was dimly aware that he could feel the forest floor beneath him and the small fracture of his mind still capable of rational thought scolded him for his childish impatience. Then his mind's voice was joined by a second, darker one. Legolas could not understand it, for it seemed to speak to him muffled by a wall of confusion. Yet it would not let him be, urgently pushing him to wake, to move.
While he was lying in a crumbled heap on the ground, creatures began to gather around him. His eyes, still open despite his ordeal, took in the white, bony legs that crossed his line of vision. Bare claws devoid of flesh that dug into the earth. He took in the hoofed legs that swiftly moved to scatter the white creatures, only to have them return heartbeats later. The sights made as little sense to him as the sounds and finally his tired mind cut off his connection to the world, plunging him into darkness.
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"Daro!" [Stop!]
Glorfindel´s call registered with Aragorn through the swirl of thoughts that had kept his mind busy during their swift ride through the night. He turned Gwaef around, aware that the elves would have reacted more swiftly than him and would be waiting behind him, and then joined the waiting group in a trot.
Glorfindel sat still on his steed, eyes unfocussed as he felt into the growing wind. Beside him, Elrond was motionless in a similar fashion, breathing deeply. The twins glanced at Aragorn as he approached. Two sets of stormy eyes shone at the human with impatience, but none said a word lest they would break the elder elves´ attention. Elladan brow was furrowed, though, and he abruptly turned Ninim to face away from the small circle they had instinctively formed. Elrohir exchanged a worried look with his human brother.
Aragorn shifted uneasily. The winds were growing more persistent, hunting the clouds across the dark sky as if about to devour them. Sounds rode on the gusts that raised the little hairs at the ranger's neck and he realized with a cold start that he had heard them before. The clinging panic he had felt those days back when he had guided a stumbling Faun and his motionless rider through the rain came back in a rush. They had found shelter in a cave but they had been pursued. He could still see the bony creature breaking through the sheen of water, knocking him senseless in its first assault as if he were an inexperienced boy rather than the able warrior he knew himself to be. It was close. He could feel it in the air.
"Ta na lá haya" Glorfindel stated, his gaze turning away from the group, past where Elladan was facing. Aragorn blinked in surprise at the fact that the Balrog Slayer had spoken in Quenya, making no move to explain his words. The ancient elf seemed detached from them, almost as if part him was not with them anymore but racing towards their foe already.
"Aye", Elrond agreed quietly, "it is not far away indeed. The time has come for us to face our enemy, the one who threatens life and soul of Imladris and all who dwell there. We need to strike as one, fight as one, be as one." His words filled the air with a force that was shimmering at the brink of becoming a visible bond, and even Elladan turned his head, locking eyes with his father who was now staring at his oldest son with undisguised concern.
"Maetha min, ion-nin." [Fight (as) one, my son.] Elladan held his father's gaze without wavering. "Aye", he answered tensely, "im maethathon, im beriothon mbar-min." [Yes, I will fight, I will protect our home.] His voice was laced with fire. Elrond´s frown deepened. "Maetha min", the elder elf repeated more firmly, "althortho en ruth." [Don´t let anger guide you.] There was something in Elrond's eyes as he spoke that told Aragorn his father had due reason for his warning and glancing at Elrohir. He recognized the same shadow of memory in the younger twin´s eyes.
Elladan remained tense for a long moment, then he relaxed slightly and sighed. "I will not act rashly", he promised softly, "not before the tide of battle turns against us and anger is all that is left in our defence." Almost as an afterthought he added: "May the Valar forbid that to come to pass." Elrond nodded slowly, his forehead smoothed but worry still lingering in his eyes. He then straightened and addressed all three of his sons. "Glorfindel and I will take the lead. Do not pass us before I tell you. Whatever happens, remain behind our backs until you are told otherwise. Once the time comes, spread out. Encircle it. Our chances will be greater when we force the vampire to divide its attention. Strive to destroy its body. We shall go after its soul."
Silence followed the words that sounded so simple yet carried the weight of death. A circle in battle could not be broken or it would lose its function. Whenever a gap appeared it needed to be filled. There would be no time to care for the wounded. Not before the foe was slain. Aragorn steeled his mind. He could feel the concern for his family retreating before the force of his will, backing into the very depth of his soul. And slowly, released from its carefully guarded cage, the cold urge to kill emerged. It would guide his steps in battle. It crouched and hissed at him, and the ranger embraced its presence, sure of the control he had over it.
The groans in the wind turned to wails. Elladan head whipped around in answer, his eyes darkening. The horses whinnied and pawed the ground. Glorfindel broke their circle and allowed his mount to prance ahead a few spaces. The darkness thickened. "In Valar berio fea-min." [(May) the Valar protect our souls.] With these words, Elrond urged his horse onward and soon the thunder of hooves rivalled the growing force of the storm.
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Legolas opened his eyes slowly. He felt as if he was floating. A stream was carrying him away and he was hopeless to fight it. Squinting, he realized that he was atop Faun once more. They were moving through the forest away from any path. The stallion trembled and heaved beneath him despite the relatively slow gait the ground forced upon them. Had they been riding like this for a while?
Suddenly, there was a snarling hiss in front of them. Faun reared slightly, his angry neigh close to a screech, and bones crushed beneath his hooves when they found the ground once more. Legolas sat transfixed, awed by the lack of dizziness he felt. And the lack of pain. He didn't feel much from his body at all, except detachment. As if somebody else was in control. The feeling was frightening and soothing at the same time. His eyes sought out the forest floor and came to rest on the crushed bones of what might have been a fox. They were swiftly becoming unimportant, though, at the sight of more bony creatures that dashed to and fro around them. Faun's legs were covered in blood. There were tooth marks on them and gashes.
In the distance, Legolas heard the voice of the Bruinen. The rushing waters seemed urgent, even more so than the trees that moaned and warned all about them. The river was calling to them, and its voice was angry.
"A lorna, nessa meldo." [Sleep, young friend.] The soft words seemed to rise from the forest floor beneath him, encompassing his mind in a gentle embrace. "A hauta ar inye hiruvanye vanta-i-lwen." [Rest and I will find our path.]
The urgent calling of the Bruinen in his ears, Legolas gave in to the tender urging and allowed the darkness to rise once more.
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Gwaef shook his head and strained against Aragorn's staying hands. The stallion shook his head and neighed in annoyance, his anger challenging the rain that was driving hard against them now. Despite of the situation, a grim smile crossed Aragorn's features in the face of his horse's impatience. "Dinen, Gwaef", [Quiet, Gweaf] he scolded lightly, "the battle will come to us soon enough, even without you in the lead."
In front of him, Elrond and Glorfindel were clearly visible even though the darkness of the storm added to that of night. A blue glimmer seemed to shroud the older elves, its sight giving the ranger hope. To both of his sides, his eleven brothers were mere shadows speeding along in silence. The wind that pressed against them made it hard to gaze onwards and breathe at the same time, so Aragorn had taken to breathing to the side before turning his face to where they were heading again. The elves were undisturbed by such physical troubles, never losing their focus, and the ranger was afraid he would miss the first sight of their foe when it finally appeared.
He should not have worried, for the vampire had no intention of hiding. It was about to show itself in all its glory.
A great roll of thunder made Gwaef jump slightly. Aragorn placed a steadying hand on the horse's neck, wondering that he had not seen any lightning, when another, louder clap rang in his ears and suddenly there was light all about them. It was dancing in withering streaks out of the sky. The thunder became of never ending roar. The flashes encircled them, forcing Elrond and Glorfindel to sharply halt their mounts.
Blue light crackled dangerously. The winds picked up again, disturbing the ground and rushing in circles through their fiery prison. Sand and pebbles were carried up by its strength and clouded the ranger's vision as he peered about. On pure instinct, he turned his gaze upwards just in time to see a dark shadow descending upon them from above.
The flickering light danced in blue traces along the creature that slowly lowered itself closer to the ground. Its threatening hiss penetrated the thunder's continuous rumble. To Aragorn's eyes the great shape danced and swam, only its bony core of strangely assembled bones never lost its clarity. He could make out a massive skull, the open mouth lined with gleaming teeth, eyes shining with darkness. The claws that stretched towards them were bent, ready to draw blood. The vampire's body moved almost gracefully on the rushing winds, never straying from its straight path.
Squinting, Aragorn thought to catch a glimpse of great bat-like wings that seemed to appear and disappear as erratically as the flashing bolts of lightning that lit the vampire's arrival. With it, dark hides swam about the bony structure, never quite there and yet always present. Strangely, it felt to the human that it was this wavering shape that was real while the clearly visible bones were no more than a façade whose destruction would hardly matter.
Glorfindel and Elrond had steered their horses in front of the elven Lord´s sons, keeping their dancing steeds in place. Aragorn threw a quick glance to his brothers and saw cold determination on Elrohir face. Elladan, however, seemed mesmerised. His eyes had turned so dark they appeared black. Bolts of lightning were mirrored in them as if they were nothing but glass orbs. Frightened by the sight, the human nudged his brother with his knee. Elladan turned his head and smiled darkly.
The ground shook as the clashes of thunder grumbled almost in unison with a force that seemed great enough to split the very earth beneath them. Lightning lit up brightly when the claws of the vampire finally touched the ground. Then there was darkness.
Only the wind remained. Aragorn's skin felt as if it was about the crawl off his body and flee. He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt of his sword, hissing in surprise when sparks flew as he drew it in preparation. The black void around him caused his heart to race uncontrollably and when light reappeared he felt a panic that he had not known to be building inside him slowly abate.
The light was blue once more, yet this time it held a tinge of warmth and clarity that had been absent from the white-hot flashes. Steadily, the light grew stronger around both Elrond and Glorfindel. Aragorn gasped in recognition, for none who had ever been caressed by Vilya's glow would ever forget it. How could that be? Elrond did not hold forth the ring and neither did the light seem to come from his hand. It flowed from the elven lords forms freely as if poured forth by their bodies.
The vampire screeched in a sound that carried a surprise that Aragorn understood despite its alien nature. The bony frame reared when Vilya´s glow touched upon it, and the white structures seemed to bend and melt as if devoured by a funeral pyre´s hungry flame. The arrogant strength that had shone through the creature's appearance fell away to reveal a hot anger. The head turned atop the writhing body, eyes searching. And finding its prey.
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The vampire screamed at the pain that crushed his stolen body to pieces and threatened to break through to the core of its being. Never before had it met such power, and it was smart enough to acknowledge its superior. The light needed to be drowned; doused by the blood and despair of those who used it.
With an effort, the creature forced its head to turn, seeking out the one it had marked as its tool long before the dark young elf had appeared before it. Eyes met, and the vampire felt a rush of hunger come towards it that almost matched its own. There was nothing the vampire had to create. All it had to do was unleash what was already there.
Hate truly was the strongest of allies.
TBC
Review responses:
Moralinde: Oh yes, stubborn indeed. And you are right that a stronger force than Legolas of Gondolin will be needed to defeat the vampire.
Night Shadow 131: LOL, it was Legolas of Gondolin who helped him get out of Imladris - and he´s taking over the wheel almost completely now, aided by the fact that our Legolas is really far too ill to be up and about. I get my Elvish from three dictionaries. I´m trying my best, but I guess any real elf would skin me for my efforts...
Beling: I´m glad I could make you laugh a little :) LOL, I agree that the "eyebrow" will not be enough, but on the other hand Lord Elrond may be too happy to have the prince back alive to actually scold him too much- if he should make it back alive, that is...Thanks for your kind words.
Someone reading: Thank you! You are quite right to worry about Elladan - he is strong but the way I see it also very passionate when it comes to defending his home. Elrond let Aragorn take the lead because he wanted to signal to him he knew of his human son´s strength. He wanted to encourage him.
Gozilla: I hope this was soon enough ;-)
Tychen: Thanks!! Yes, Legolas 12 will play a vital part - as will love and friendship.
Ertia: Aww (hands over handkerchief), sorry. Well, not really, I´m glad I was able to touch you with that scene. Our "friend" inside is back indeed and very active...
Estel Elven Enchantress: LOL; glad I could not scare you away with my admission. I promise I won´t bite and I certainly won´t grade anybody here :)
White Wolf 1: Legolas will have a very hard time with his injury, but t least he does have some help. And I hope the creeps were back in this chapter when the enemy actually (re)appeared :)
Demon Faith: Yes, I´m glad I have more time for writing, too. This story is becoming rather insistent. Poor elf indeed - and I´m sorry to say his ordeal is not ever yet. Bad me...
Thank you all so much!! Keep the reviews coming, please.