Hi again! I just wanted to let you all know that you are more than welcome to leave a review. If you love it, hate it, want to offer helpful, constructive criticism, anything. I love to get the hate ones. They are usually fraught with terrible grammar, and when I'm feeling bad, I read them and laugh. So just drop a line if you feel like it. If you don't, that's fine too. I just hope you enjoy the story!
Warning: Will be slash and OC romance eventually.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. The characters all belong to Tolkien, except for Ylana, who is claimed by my pet demon. I'm not about to fight him for her. The title of both story and chapters come from the brilliant mind of poet T.S. Elliot
World's End
Chapter 2: In the Wind's Singing
Dawn rose clear and cold, the wind raw and biting, leaving pink cheeks and runny noses in its wake.
The hobbits huddled close together, sitting as near to the fire as was possible without burning themselves. Boromir, Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli were wrapped up tight in their cloaks. Only the Elves seemed unaffected by the weather, bringing more grumbling from the Dwarf.
"What we need is some good, strong Green Dragon ale," Merry managed to mutter through chattering teeth. "That never fails to warm your bones."
"It's not my bones that need warming," Pippin reminded his cousin. "It's the rest of me that's turning blue!"
The two Elves, sitting back so that the Mortals could be closer to the fire, shared a smile. The antics of those who shared weakness that their kind couldn't even begin to comprehend always amazed them.
"I'm afraid that you must get used to the cold," Gandalf told them. "The temperature will drop lower and lower the higher we climb."
This brought groans from all those sitting around the fire, and Ylana was barely able to contain a giggle. Legolas gave a slight chuckle, unheard by all save his Elvish companion.
"Perhaps a hot meal would do?" Aragorn suggested with raised eyebrows, knowing how much the hobbits loved to eat.
Sure enough, the hobbits perked up at this. Keeping their cloaks wrapped tightly about them, they began scurrying around to prepare a breakfast of bacon and tomatoes. As they did, the rest of the Fellowship broke up into groups. Gandalf, as he was often prone to do, went off on his own. Gimli and Boromir moved in to speak with one another in low murmurs, while Aragorn came to sit by the Elves.
Ylana, her ever-watchful eyes sweeping over the Company, felt her lips turn up in a smile. "They never break tradition, do they?" she said softly. "Gandalf usually sits alone, unless someone has a question for him. The hobbits are always together, and Boromir and Gimli have been keeping each other company for some time now. And you two are very rarely apart. Perhaps routine is a good way to keep your wits about yourself when you are far from home."
"Indeed it does," Aragorn replied, facing her. "And what of you, Ylana Fairylight? Whose company do you prefer to keep?"
She turned and offered him a lazy smile. "The same Company that I have kept for the past thirteen years: my own. There is no point in getting too deeply attached to anyone. I am not part of this Fellowship, and there is no knowing when I may leave. My heart, as always, is mine to keep."
Legolas blinked at her, shocked that she could seem so carefree in everyday life, but in reality be this introverted.
Aragorn, however, didn't look surprised. Apparently, it was something he had heard from the girl before. "You really haven't changed much."
She shrugged. "It has been my way for the past thirteen years, and I have no regrets." She smiled and turned her sparkling silver eyes to Legolas. 'And, with my friends around, I am far from lonely."
The male Elf nodded and returned the smile. What an interesting creature!
The smell of frying bacon reached them, causing the three Companions to look to the fire. The hobbits were once again gathered around it, and seemed intent on the frying pan that lay in the middle of it.
Aragorn had to chuckle. "Sometime it's a wonder to me that hobbits aren't these huge, round creatures. I have never seen anyone eat so much in my life!"
"I am just glad that they know how to cook," Legolas said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I must admit that it is not one of my stronger points. Ada always jokes that I'll have to find a partner who knows how to cook. (1) Else I'd end up starving to death."
They all laughed at that, even though Aragorn knew that the Elf had enough skills to survive on his own out in the wild.
Ylana lifted her arms above her head and stretched, reminding Aragorn sharply of a cat. "I must admit that I will be extremely happy when we have passed over this mountain. There will be very few trees along the way, and I don't find sleeping on rocky ground very comfortable."
"I don't think any of us do," Aragorn remarked dryly.
"This is true…"
Boromir and Gimli were moving ever closer to the fire and the food. When the human tried to sneak in and grab a tomato, Merry smacked his hand away.
"I am glad to see that they are staying in good spirits," Ylana said softly. "I have never attempted Caradhras, but I have climbed mountains before. It is not an easy task, even for Elf-kind. They have no idea what lies before them."
"The mountain will be the least of our worries," Aragorn replied grimly. "We still have to find a way into Mordor. There's no way we'll make it unnoticed."
"But we'll try," Legolas said in determination. "It is not in my nature to give up without a fight."
"Nor mine," Aragorn and Ylana chorused together, causing the three friends to share a smile.
"Come and get it!" came a call from the fire. "Better hurry before Boromir eats it all."
The entire Company laughed as Boromir let out a growl before pouncing on Merry, and then moved in to share breakfast.
Frodo was freezing. The wind was strong and it buffeted them mercilessly, driving them deeper and deeper into their cloaks. And it wasn't even snowing yet!
Sam, Merry and Pippin walked on either side of him, grumbling about the cold and how hungry they were, even though it hadn't been two hours since they had eaten breakfast. Gandalf lead the way, followed by Gimli, who was walking alone to prove he wasn't cold. Behind him were Boromir and Ylana, followed by the hobbits and Bill the Pony. Aragorn and Legolas brought up the rear.
Once again, Frodo found himself fascinated by the Elves. Neither of them were wearing cloaks, having loaned them to the hobbits for extra warmth. Legolas wore only the tunic and leggings he had received in Terin, while Ylana was clad in nothing more than her dirty and torn riding dress. Their cheeks were faintly pink, but that seemed to be the only imprint the cold left on them. His uncle Bilbo had told him that Elves were unaffected by the weather unless they chose to be, but Frodo had chalked it up to Bilbo's extensive imagination. Now, however, it seemed as though the old hobbit had been right.
"I am really beginning to miss home about right now," Merry muttered from Frodo's right. His face was bright red, and his lips were beginning to crack. "It never gets this cold in the Shire. It rarely even snows there, not even in the winter!" He ended with a sneeze.
On Merry's other side, Pippin was shivering uncontrollably.
"It's your own fault," Frodo reminded him. "If you hadn't stuck your nose in where it didn't belong, then you would be sitting comfortably in the Shire right now."
"Pardon us, Mr. Frodo, but we couldn't just let you go off on your own," came Sam's voice from Frodo's right.
Frodo turned a smile onto his best friend. "And I thank you for it from the deepest places of my heart. But there's no use in complaining about the weather. There's nothing we can do about it."
The elected another grumble from Merry.
Walking behind the hobbits, Aragorn couldn't help but smile as their words were carried to him on the wind. "Those four never cease to amaze me," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "This is the first time they have left their home, and they've seen some things that would give a hardened warrior nightmares. Yet they continue on without too much complaint, doing whatever is necessary to see that Frodo completes his Quest. They have hope, even when the rest of us do not."
"But we always have hope," Legolas reminded his friend with a smile. "You were not given the name hope without reason, Estel."
Aragorn let out a sigh, and Legolas wished he had kept his mouth shut. It had sounded as though the weight of the world was in that sigh.
"I wonder, Legolas," the Ranger said softly. "I get so afraid sometimes. What if I am tempted as Isildur was, and what if I fall was well? How can I lead a people who will no doubt hate me for hiding in the shadows for so long? What if I take the throne of Gondor only to find that I am an incompetent king?" he shook his head. "Elrond keeps pushing me to accept my destiny, and I know that he only wants what's best for Middle-Earth. But he doesn't understand my worries. Arwen tried to help, but she doesn't understand either." He briefly closed his eyes. "I am supposed to be hope, yet I have none of my own."
Legolas reached out to place a hand on his friend's arm. "I have faith in you, mellon-nin. (2) I shall follow you down whatever path you choose, be it death or glory. Wherever you go, I shall follow. And I will never think twice about it."
Aragorn said nothing, but reached up and took the hand Legolas had placed on his arm. He gave it a squeeze, brushed his thumb across the back, and then dropped it.
Fire was racing up Legolas's arm at the contact, and he felt so disappointed when Aragorn let go. Just as well. He might begin to suspect something if you tried to prolong the contact. And I don't want to give Ylana any ideas that she can share with Arwen. I will not destroy Aragorn's life.
Legolas couldn't deny that he often felt sick at the thought of Arwen and Aragorn together, but he told himself that it was simply because he and his friend would drift apart once the two were wed. "Down whichever path," he had said. And he would hold to that, even if it meant that his heart would be broken.
A slight sigh escaped his lips. Aragorn, lost in his own thoughts, never heard him. When did I change? I used to never have such dark thoughts. Even when it seemed as though Mirkwood would fall to the darkness that has consumed its southern portion, I still held a measure of hope. Could this be a product of my brother's treachery? A smile twisted his lips. Or does it come from spending so much time with mortals?
Not for the first time in his long life, Legolas wondered what it would be like to give his heart to a mortal. He had never been one to pursue love, thinking that it would come to him instead. His father had not pressed him on the matter, for which he was thankful. However, he had always believed that his partner would be an Elf.
He had never had much to do with Men until he had met three-year-old Estel, the sad0eyed little boy that had been brought to Rivendell by his mother after his father was killed.
Legolas had immediately become fascinated with the child, spending as much time with him as he could. For his part, Estel quickly became attached to the prince of Mirkwood. One of his favorite things to do was run up, tug at the Elf's long locks, then run away laughing, inviting Legolas to chase him around Imladris. As she lay dying, Gillrean had asked Legolas to look after her son as he grew up. He swore to stand by Estel until the Man's last breath had been used.
But he had never thought he would see that boy as anything other than a friend. And to willingly give his heart to him…
Arwen made that sacrifice without as much so much as a blink, he thought sadly. And I will not degrade that sacrifice by making Aragorn chose between his Elf princess and his Silent Guard. I will simply carry out my promise to his mother, no matter what the cost to myself.
Clouds hung low in the sky, yet no snow fell. Though the Company was overjoyed by this, Gandalf warned them not to get their hoped up. They were only at the base of the mountain, and it would take them many days to reach the path that would lead to the Redhorn Gate. The snow would come.
Lunch was short, much to the hobbits' dismay. But they did not grumble when Gandalf told them that they needed to make use of what daylight they had. It was the middle of winter, and nights approached must faster. Unless they wanted to spend weeks on the mountain, they would have to take short lunches, often without a fire.
Seeing their crestfallen looks, Ylana laughed as she ruffled Pippin's hair. "Do not worry so, my friends. Shorter days mean more sleep. Or a longer dinner, if you choose. You will be able to share more of your Shire songs."
Pippin's face brightened. "Or you could tell us one of your stories! Please, Ylana? It's been so long since you told us anything."
She laughed and offered a bow. "Very well then, Master Took. I shall play storyteller tonight."
Aragorn groaned at this. "By the Valar, not again! Every time that wicked Elf spins a tale, she usually winds up embarrassing me."
Legolas lifted an eyebrow and offered a bit of a smirk. "Then you should be relieved that it is not I doing the telling. For I can recall a time or two when you were sure you would nearly die of shame. And I was right there to see it all."
The Ranger turned a horrified look onto his friend. "You wouldn't!"
The Elf didn't answer, which caused the poor human to worry all the more. "Legolas? Legolas!"
Frodo blinked as he saw Legolas suddenly dash off with a laugh, Aragorn running after him shouting what the hobbit guessed to be Elvish curses. "I wonder what's gotten into them?"
Gimli, also watching the two, snorted disdainfully. "Elves."
Night did indeed catch them much quicker than Gandalf liked, but he knew better than to try and travel after dark. So they built a fire, cooked dinner, and sat around Ylana for the promised story. "What would you like to hear?" she asked, sitting on a log with the hobbits on the ground in front of her, close to the warmth of the fire.
Aragorn kept his eyes on the ground, expecting someone to ask for a story about her time with him as they usually did. This time, however, he was in for a surprise. They all were.
"I heard you talking about faeries earlier," came Sam's hopeful voice. "Are they real? Please, Miss Fairylight. I want to hear about them."
Ylana laughed in delight. "I would love to tell you about them, Sam. And yes, they are real. They just prefer to stay hidden."
"What do they look like?" Pippin asked. "I've heard they're only a few inches tall with wings like hummingbirds and glow in the dark."
Merry scoffed at this. "Who told you that? Ted Sandyman? Because you're wrong. Faeries are the same height as us, wear pointed hats and pointed shoes, and you can see right through their wings."
"Actually, you're both wrong," Ylana said with a sparkle in her eyes. "They look very much like Elves, except that their eyes are slanted and they have wings. Here." She reached up and unclasped a chain that hung around her neck. 'Arwen gave me this for my birthday after my mother died. It's a faerie and, since I was named after faeries, she deemed it appropriate."
She handed the pendant to Frodo, and all the hobbits crowded in to look at it.
It was an exquisitely carved woman, with gracefully pointed ears and slanted eyes. Her hair fell past her shoulders in waves, and a pair of beautifully tattered wings sprouted from her back. If you looked hard enough, it almost seemed as if her dress was rippling with the wind.
"I remember when Arwen gave you that," Aragorn said softly. "She was so excited about it. That was all she talked about for weeks! But then she was afraid that it would remind you of your mother and make you upset."
"It is the best gift that I have ever been given," she told him, taking it back from Frodo and immediately clasping it around her neck once more.
"You said that the faeries were in hiding." That was Merry. "Why?"
Ylana sighed, and a look of sadness crossed her face. "Faeries are fiercely independent creatures. They cannot stand to be tied to anything. And they are full of magick, wondrous magick! They can change their appearance at will. Look into your mind and become whatever they see there. That's what is known as faerie glamour. Also, they can affect nature in a way that the Elves can only dream of. They simply have to touch a flower to make it bloom. But many humans---and, I'm sorry to say---Elves as well found this useful. So they began to capture them by the hundreds.
"The Faerie were already a reluctant people, as this proved to be the knife that cut the ties they had with the peoples of Middle-Earth."
"But you've seen one, right?" Merry asked, his eyes glued to the she-Elf.
"I've not only seen one, I happen to be good friends with one."
They all gasped at this. "Really?" Frodo breathed. "But how? You said they've gone into hiding!"
"They let themselves be seen every once in awhile," Ylana explained. "They like to remind people that they are here. And, I think, to remind us of our mistake. Every now and then, someone will stumble into a faerie glenn, which serves as the portal between our world and theirs. But you must be careful. A day in the Faerie Realm often ends up being a year or more here."
She now had their complete attention. "I've heard stories about that," Frodo said. "There was this hobbit back home. Camilla Grubb was her name. She disappeared one day when she was very young, then came back twenty years later, not looking the least bit older. She said that she had been playing with the faeries, but hadn't been gone for more than two days."
"How did you ever meet one?" was Sam's question.
"Through my mother," the Elf answered softly. "There's a pool in Rivendell that's a good distance from the city itself. Aragorn knows where it is. My mother played there often as a child. When her close friend from Mirkwood was killed by a spider, she often went to the pool to cry.
"Unbeknownst to her, there was a faerie glenn close by. A young Faerie, curious about the outside world, heard her crying and came to comfort her. They sat and talked for hours, and became fast friends. They stayed that way for the rest of Mother's life. When she got married, it was the first time in years that a faerie had been seen in the public eye.
"Since her firstborn was a son, Mother let Father chose Gallas's name. But when she learned she was to have a girl, she said her name was to be Fairylight in honor of her friend. And so…Here I am!
"Rowan---that's her name---was always around when I was younger. I was fascinated with her wings. I used to want a pair of my own! After Mother died, she went back to her glenn. But she has promised to come if ever I am to call for her."
"What is she like?" all four hobbits asked at once.
Ylana laughed at their enthusiasm. "Well, she is very childlike. She's curious about everything. And she speaks in chirps, like a bird. When she uses words, it's in a very high pitched voice, and she doesn't string her sentences together. Her hair is green, and her eyes are blue."
Sam sighed wistfully. "I sure wish I could meet a faerie."
"Perhaps you will one day. I don't want to call on Rowan unless I need her. She has her own life to live. But that is enough stories for one day. We should take advantage of this early night and get some extra sleep. I will keep watch."
The others began to pack the dinner things away and stake out their sleeping grounds. The hobbits thanked Ylana for the story, and Aragorn kissed her on the cheek for not embarrassing him. That made her laugh.
Soon all were settled down. Soft words could be heard from all over the camp. The fire danced, casting eerie shadows all about them. Ylana sat in a tree, watching. Her eyes seemed to keep finding their way back to a particular pair who were sitting a little ways from the fire.
Aragorn kept his cloak wrapped around him as he and Legolas stared up into the sky. "The clouds are becoming thicker," the Ranger said softly. "Looks like the snow may reach us by morning."
The Elf shrugged. "We knew it would happen eventually, and we've been fortunate to get this far without it."
"Aye." Though he kept his face to the stars, Aragorn was watching his Elvish companion out of the corner of his eye. He felt his pulse quicken at the sight of what starlight there was highlighting Legolas's hair, making it appear to be spun from gold. "Would you lie beside me tonight? It is too cold."
Legolas fixed him with a glare. "You know as well as I do that I do not feel the cold, human."
Aragorn chuckled. "It is not for your benefit, mellon-nin. I was talking of myself. I am not as young as I used to be, and I can feel the cold in my bones more acutely these days."
"Oh." Legolas felt his face flush, and he silently chided himself for losing his temper so quickly. If only Aragorn knew what that simple request does to me! "I am not sure that's appropriate, Estel."
Aragorn frowned. "What do you mean? We used to do it all the time while out traveling together. In fact, unless my memory is worse than I thought, you've saved my life more than once by lying next to me to keep me warm. What's so different about now?"
"Things have changed," Legolas said softly, nodding at the Evenstar pendant that was gleaming softly from its place at the base of Aragorn's throat.
The Ranger closed his eyes and silently cursed, fighting the urge to reach up and yank the thing off. He wished that she had taken it when he offered it to her back in Rivendell. It wasn't that he didn't cherish it and the sacrifice that she was willing to make for him. But he never would have taken it if he had known it would come between him and his best friend.
He opened his eyes and turned enough to stare at the Elf. "You are still my closest, most trusted friend," he said in a quiet voice. "That's all that matters to me, and that's never going to change. But if that's the way you wish it…"
He moved enough so that he could lie down, wrapped his cloak tightly about him, and closed his eyes. He made sure to lay facing he fire, knowing that Legolas always slept facing away from the others so as not to frighten them with his open eyes. Aragorn only hoped that the Elf would recognize the gesture for what it was and come lay beside him.
He waited for a long moment, straining his ears to hear any sound other than the wind's mournful singing. When h didn't, he felt his heart begin to sink.
But, just as he was about to give up, he heard a soft sigh and the faintest shifting of rocks. Not a moment later, Aragorn felt a back press to his as Legolas lay at his side.
The Ranger let out a contented sigh. "Hanna le, mellon-nin," he murmured drowsily. (3) The warmth radiating from the Elf was comforting, and he soon found himself fast asleep.
Up in her tree, Ylana could not help but smile as she watched her two friends. Thanks to her Elvish hearing, she had heard every word and, perhaps, the hidden meanings behind them. It looks as though Lord Elrond was wrong. Forgive me, Arwen. But I will not stand in the way of Fate.
(1)Ada----------------------Father
(2) mellon-nin-------------my friend
(3) Hanna le----------------thank you