Summary: What happened to the four Wraiths that were not immediately chasing Frodo in the Fellowship of the Ring, and everyone that wasn't introduced until the council of Elrond? Set between Gollums capture and the council
A/N: Beta'd by Amunet, thanks a whole lot of Mithril! This chapters for Boromir, I want him around soon!
Four Wraiths Behind You:
A Summon, message, call and flight.:
At next dawn, as Legolas rode to North to Mirkwood with his companions, Aragorn had passed Chetwood forest and began his decent into the valley where Bree was nestled. The weather had been taking bad turns and it wasn't unusual for frequent showers to break out. By the time Aragorn had reached the defensive walls of Bree he looked like he was made of the earth. The ranger had to travel the perimeter of the village to the main gates, and spoke with the gatekeeper. Aragorn learned only a little more than he already knew, that people were becoming increasingly suspicious of strangers and few dared to travel at night alone or even with company. Even during the day there was a dark feeling around and for the past week or so, few had entered or left Bree. The gatekeeper liked it that way.
"Thank you," Aragorn nodded, and entered the village. He wasn't surprised then to find himself the scrutiny of many stares and consequently the topic of conversation no sooner had he left the village streets into a tavern. The Prancing Pony was its name, and Aragorn knew well that its barkeeper knew Gandalf. But the barkeep, Barliman Butterbur, was of even less help than the gatekeeper; at first.
"Gandalf… No, he's not been here in many weeks, could even be as long as months now as far as I can remember. Who did you say you were again?"
"Strider."
"Strider…" Barliman replied almost suspiciously. Of course, everyone in Bree was naturally suspicious as Aragorn was now very aware. "And you're a…"
"Ranger. From the North," Aragorn prompted. It wasn't that Barliman was in anyway stupid, in that Aragorn hadn't jumped to conclusions but it did take him a rather long time to put two and two together.
"Ah I have something for you, I believe," he said, turning from the bar and delving into a wooden draw. After finding what he was after, and then serving an old man a mug of ale, Barliman came back. "Gandalf said I was to deliver this," he said handing Aragorn an envelope, "And this to the Shire, though I failed to find someone headed that way," he added. "Got to be careful these days…"
Aragorn murmured his thanks and Barliman went back to his work. Aragorn say down and tore open the first lettter.
'THE PRANCING PONY, BREE,
Midyears Day, Shire, Year 1418.
'Dear Strider,
If you are reading this letter, then you must have reached Bree and thank goodness too because I fear time is running out! I have sent word onto Frodo, for him to meet with us in the Prancing Pony, -'
Aragorn glanced at the other letter addressed to a Mr. Baggins and frowned.
'It is likely then that I am not here to explain this all to you further, but trust in Frodo, and keep him safe.
Gandalf.
P.S. Tell him NOT to put the ring on again!
P.P.S He may not answer to his real name for I have told him to keep it concealed, for that name is not safe unless he is underhill.'
Aragorn understood the last message, and checked with the bar man one last time, but there were few hobbits in Bree, and none answering to that name. More than that, Butterbur seemed reluctant to grant Aragorn anymore information than he had already divulged. Aragorn once again put this down to mistrust. He would have to wait. Lighting a role of pipe-weed, he sank back into the shadows of the Inn and remained out of sight to all but those who's curious gazes should pass his way.
The company of Mirkwood Elves travelled all through the night until the sun rose, but still they did not stop. Their pace was not leisurely, yet nor was it as rushed as Legolas would have liked, but his companions urgency was less than his; he still had not explained to them all that had happened. His excuse was Orcs must have captured him but he escaped almost as soon as he regained consciousness, and despite Silinde's concerns for the Prince, Legolas insisted his shoulder wound was 'merely a scratch' which was healing fast. This much at least was the truth.
Musing to himself about what he should do, Legolas was surprised at how time had slipped past him. The Elves had ridden in almost complete silence, listening to the whispers of the forest, and the warning on the air. They had pushed their mounts as hard as they dared, and were not far from reaching a ford across the Anduin.
At the rivers shallowest, Silinde, Galdor and Saelbeth made to cross, but Legolas lingered.
'What is it?' Galdor asked. Legolas wondered if he should voice his concerns but instead spoke of another worry in his mind.
'I cannot leave Mirkwood without knowing it is safe,' he said at last. 'It will be a long journey to Rivendell and back again… I do not wish to leave without protecting Mirkwood first.'
'Then we will go,' Saelbeth said, 'You can return to your Fathers halls, and aid them in the fight, but the King insisted Lord Elrond be told,'
'And he will be,' Legolas assured them, 'And I fear I have much that must be said. I will join you, but I cannot leave now; not yet.'
With a final nod of farewell, Legolas turned his horse towards the forest and raced off into the trees.
'Come,' Silinde said, 'We cannot leave him either.'
Reluctantly, and aware that they were disobeying a request from their King, the three Elves turned in pursuit of their Woodelf Prince.
"Hush brother! Or you will wake everyone in the city from the gate to the palace…"Elrohir smiled at his over anxious brother, while the pair rode through a stone gateway. It was a large archway, as tall as the defensive wall either side of it, built from a fine white stone that mirrored the cities streets and buildings. Elladan and his brother had arrived in Minas Tirith, "city of kings."
Knowingly they smiled to themselves, and halted in front of a garrison of Gondorian soldiers.
"Halt, who are you, and what is your business in Gondor?" one man asked stepping forward.
"I am Elladan son of Elrond of Rivendell, and this is my brother, Elrohir," the first Elf replied. "We come on business to seek the Steward of Gondor, Lord Denethor and inform him that our father has called a council and wishes a representative of the White City to be present."
The guard nodded and took the reins of the twins horses. "We can walk the distance," Elrohir assured them. The guards nodded again and allowed them passage into the city.
Elrohir couldn't help note the enormity of the city as he followed Elladan, who seemed somehow to know exactly where he was heading. "Our father has visited here many a time; first left and alternate all the way to the top."
"Oh this is going to take forever," Elrohir exclaimed as he noted they would have to traverse the width of the city at least seven times to make it to the top. "Come on!" He called and grabbed onto the side of a building, probably some innocent and unsuspecting family's home.
Elladan stared in shock, thinking he had witnessed or been a part of the full extent of his brothers occasional madness as the Elf stood on top of the house, and proceeded to climb higher and higher. "Well!?" He called down.
Elladan shook his head, and found he was soon following, ignorant of the many stares and shouts of the cities people below…
After hours of riding, Silinde's mind was growing weary of chasing after Legolas.
'We must stop soon, surely?' He pondered, but they did not. Legolas did not stop riding until the trees of Mirkwood became lighter, and the suns rays were finally able to break through the thick blanket of trees above, until they were finally close to home. They had passed over the enchanted river in the early morning and the nearer the got to the Elven Kings Halls, the more destruction they saw. Legolas slowed to a stop and slipped from his horse moving slowing through the trees and looking around at what had happened.
Many Orcs lay scattered, their bodies abandoned after the fight, no one to carry them to wherever they came from. As he walked, he was comforted to see that no Elves lay among the dead, though perhaps that was because their Kin would not have left them in this way.
'Legolas?' Silinde said quietly, 'Legolas. We came as soon as we could. There was nothing that could have been done. Uuma dela, Amin caela tanya
uuner nae awra-
I am sure few were hurt.'
Legolas nodded and continued to walk beside his horse. He felt a great dread, even more so than when he had been imprisoned in Dol Guldur, that his home was destroyed, and his father killed. Before he could dwell further, a voice was heard muttering…
'Amin nowe ron n'kelaya!
– I thought they would never leave!'
Legolas exchanged glances with his fellow Elves and they hurried onwards to meet with the voice.
A/N: I'd always wanted someone to climb Minas Tirith and thought it would be Legolas, but as that's not likely to happen in this story, Elrohir and Elladan stole it! Thanks again to all who reviewed, it really makes writing worth while, knowing people do read it!
MorierBlackleaf - Yes, Legolas does have a habit of getting out of tight spots, even if there were none today!
tychen - Aragorn's always back up hehe, when we feel Legolas deserves a rest! Don't worry though, he may have made the prancing pony but theres a long way to go to reach Rivendell again...
Rae - lol pain and angst! Sorry to dissappoint in the ch. then but I'm going for happy medium, from Legolas' perspective of course
Thanks again everyone! Reviews do correlate to updates! I hate being slow!