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Encroaching Darkness by Ecri

Part 8

The sun crept higher into the sky casting its welcomed light across the land and chasing away the darkness of night. Lord Elrond's gaze was fixed upon the last lingering light his father cast upon Middle-earth, and the elf was comforted by the nearness of it yet saddened by the distance. Bittersweet was the most he could hope for here. It was only in Valinor that his heart would be lightened, yet, even there, he knew, his burden would never truly be left behind. Not when his children were left behind.

Arwen's decision to remain in Middle-earth had surprised Elrond, but she was unshakable. His only daughterdeeply in love with his foster son. Their tale would be as Luthien and Beren, and Elrond only wished there was some way he could change this.


Elladan and Elrohir had not yet told him of their decision, but he would not blindly believe that they would sail to Valinor with him. He had believed so in Arwen's case. He had imagined his family reunited in the Undying Lands where he knew Celebrian awaited his arrival. He had never suspected his daughter would not come. He had assumed that only Elros had been touched with a desire for a mortal life.

Though Arwen likely would not have chosen as she had if she had not met Aragorn. Aragorn. Estelthe hope of men. He had hated the thought of leaving him alone when he had first realized how much he loved the child descended from his own dear twin. Now, he feared he would be the one left alone. To sail to Valinor and explain to their mother that she would not see her childrenai, how could he bear it?


He remembered when his daughter had first told him of her choice.

Flashback:

Lord Elrond sat alone in his library staring out his window but seeing nothing of the beauty he surveyed. His thoughts were greatly troubled by his daughter's words. She had confronted him that evening knowing he wished for her to choose Valinor over her heart's desire. She had listened to his words as he had cruelly pointed out how she was destined to die alone and heartbroken before she had yet wearied of Middle-earth if she chose to stay with Estel. At first she had cried bitter tears at the sorrowful picture he had painted, but all too soon her indignation had flared and she had chastised him.

"I see your mind, Ada, and I know why you would have me choose that path!" Her voice had softened somewhat and she had tenderly kissed him. "But Ada, my heart is not yours to command, nor is it mine. It belongs to Estel! As his belongs to me! Do not do this to me, and make our parting one of sorrow. Wish us well and understandfor me to make your choice rather than my own would surely break my heart! For in Valinor or in Middle-earth, wherever I may be, without Estel I am not whole!"

She had turned on her heel then and walked from his study leaving him alone. Alone. He felt as though she had died and gone to Mandos already. He had wept bitterly as he had not since Celebrian had parted from him in the Grey Havens all those years ago.

Elladan had found him there, weeping in his room, and fearing something horrible had happened, had knelt at his father's side. The more his eldest son pleaded for him to tell him what had happened the more bitterly Elrond wept, until finally he had thrown his arms around his oldest son and clutched him fiercely in a desperate embrace. Elrohir had entered then, likely alerted by some silent communication or internal sense with his brother. His second son had embraced his father as well, and eventually the pair had coaxed from him the reason for his anguish.

They has listened to him in much the way Elrond himself had listened to their own tales of distress when they were younger, and some small part of the elf lord marveled at this reversal. That his sons should comfort him now, when their hearts were likely breaking as well finally broke him from his despair. Drying his eyes, he had sent them to bed claiming exhaustion and promising all would be well in the morning.

He had meant to retire, but had found no strength in his limbs. Instead, he sat in his ever-darkening room and felt himself become numb. He stared upwards to he heavens and his own father's fading light as night melted into day.

End Flashback


Shaking off such thoughts with great effort, Elrond rose and moved to Estel's side. His youngest son had slept through the night with no cries of pain when he had shifted. Elrond was pleased to note the progress of his wounds, and even more pleased that Estel slept through his examination. If the man slept a few more hours, it would do him good.

He would recommend they continue their journey today. Estel was healing, and, truthfully, the Lord of Imladris didn't think he could stand any further delay himself. Legolas' future was too uncertain. He glanced over at the still sleeping elf, still unaccustomed to seeing him looking so human. Eyes closed in mortal sleep, the former elf seemed vulnerable somehow in a way that Elrond had never associated with him before. The absence of the Prince's elven glow was the hardest thing for him to bear. He knew Aragorn had helped Legolas to bear the changes, but he was just as certain that Mirkwood's youngest prince hid his anguish even from his friend.

Legolas, being sundered from Iluvatar's song, had hurt him. Legolas had always taken a great deal of comfort from the Song, especially from the trees. That he heard neither any longer would require him to find comfort elsewhere, and Elrond wasn't sure he would.

As the others in the party began to wake and move about, Elrond returned his attention to Aragorn. The human still slept, but it was a light sleep. He'd always slept lightly, the slightest change in his surroundings bringing him almost instantly awake. Elladan surmised that it was a good trait for a Ranger to have, as anyone that observant while asleep would certainly be able to spot trouble coming while awake.

Elrond smiled when he remembered Elrohir's quick reply. "If he's so good at spotting trouble, brother, why does he find it so difficult to avoid it?"

Aragorn's eyes opened then, blinking rapidly as he looked up at Elrond. "Ada"

"Estel. I was about to wake you. Can you sit up?" Elrond moved to help the young man sit up slowly. His muscles were stiff, but he did seem much better than he had been the night before. "We will start out again today," Elrond began, but raised his voice slightly at Aragorn's grin. "Provided I can trust you not to overexert yourself."

"Of course you can, Ada!"

Elrond raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

Aragorn turned then as Glorfindel approached with two plates passing one to his father and one to his brother. "You look rested, Estel!" Glorfindel smiled and looked questioningly at his Elrond.

Elrond nodded. "I was about to tell the others, we will head out today."


Glorfindel smiled. "I will tell them. You should eat."


"You think I would not if you did not tell me?"

"I have seen you miss more than one meal while tending to the injuries of any of your sons–or indeed those of their close friends!" Glorfindel laughed at the scowl that appeared on his friend's face.

**

The morning air was sweet with the smell of flowers and warm with the kiss of the sun as the group traveled. The urgency of their journey was not lessened by the uncertainty of their course.


Gandalf looked once more at Galadriel. The Lady sat upon the bareback of her horse, the intensity of the sunlight gleaming off the white clothes, white mare, and golden hair. She glanced at him, a small, sad smile gracing her countenance. "I know no more than I have told you, Mithrandir. We are needed on this road." She pointed ahead of them. "In this direction. There is some threat to elf-kind in general and toto one of the Princes of the Woodland Realm." She tried, but could see no more.

The Wizard nodded. "Forgive me my impatience, my Lady. I have been too long among men."


She laughed then, and the look of joy upon her face increased her beauty. "Men have need of your counsel. They would do well to heed your words."

"Men do not heed the words of their own kind. My own words, they cannot always follow." He laughed then. "There are exceptions, of course!"

She nodded the smile still plain upon her face. "Yes, and the one of whom you speak is often that exception."

Her husband smiled then at the unexpected pleasure of seeing the joy upon her face. "You do not often smile when you think of him, my love." Celeborn knew she could not think of Aragorn without thinking of the eventual loss of their dear granddaughter, Arwen.

Galadriel nodded. "Yet, he brings her such joy, and I do remember the first flush of new love." She glanced at her husband with a look she shared only with him. Love, respect, and something more...thousands of years of affection and common memoriesevident in her eye, but only for one such as he who knew how to read them.

He reached across to her from atop his own steed and the two clasped hands like the young lovers they remembered being. The elven touch, though light and chaste, held a sensitivity depth of communication, of connection, rare even among elves.

Celeborn and Galadriel remained so for some time, and Gandalf did not interrupt. It was only when the Lady Galadriel stiffened, inhaling sharply, that Gandalf and Celeborn drew to a halt beside her.

"My love, what is it?" Celeborn asked the question verbally, though he could have found out in other ways.

"There is a threat"

"Yes, so you said, to one of the Woodland Princes" Gandalf frowned as he spoke.

"Nay. There is another. I sense an evil traveling as we do, but much closer to its prey."

"Prey? Do you not know either predator or prey?" Gandalf glanced to Celeborn, but the Lord only shook his head, not knowing things of which his wife had not spoken.

"Only that the predatornay, predators, they will reach their quarry before we find our friendsfor we are seeking the same weary travelers." Galadriel's eyes had grown distant, her voice soft, as she spoke of these things she saw with sight other than that of her elven eyes.

Celeborn reached to her again, and the Lady of the Golden Wood offered him the smallest of smiles that he would know she was well.

"If what you say is so, we should waste no time!" With those words, Gandalf urged his horse into a gallop, the Lord and Lady of the Wood and their retinue close at his heels.

**

Together the Two worked as one–a common mind, and a common goal Their Master's pleasure was their only thought. They had long ago turned from the path they had been sent to walk. They had long ago abandoned the higher purpose for which they had been made. Their fall into Shadow had been both quick and unexpected, but, as is often the case with such things, it had become a stronger call than they could ignore. They had no need of armies or minions, for theirs was the power of the Istari.


Those who sent them only suspected the betrayal, for no proof could be found when no trail of the Two could be followed. The Ithryn Luin they were calledthe Blue Wizards. They had been sent well before Gandalf the Grey had set foot in Middle-earth. They had spread Sauron's will as far East and South as they were able setting up cults and superstitions and establishing the blackest of arts, the deadliest of rituals, the most shocking of the orders of Morgoth's Worshippers.

Working always in tandem, the Ithyn Luin had devised a plan that could not fail.

The First had prepared the spell. His strength was in the drawing of power and the channeling of the Evil Will of Sauron's desires. His words would call forth a doom upon the man by cutting off all supportby forcing him to stand alone. His wicked ritual would deprive the would-be savior of Man of the strength of his kin. The First did not doubt his spell would work, for, though he had not always pleased his Master, he had never wrought a spell that had failed.


The Second had prepared the means of execution. His strength was as a bringer of death and a herald of doom. The manipulation of poisons and herblore and the infliction of pain and doubt were his domain. This would not be subtle as some of his past endeavors. No. This called for a heavy hand. This called for a decisive victory. The Man Who Would Be King would die a death the description of which would set the soul of the fiercest warrior to quake in horror and fear.

All preparations made, the Blue Wizards had but to wait for the coming of their prey.

**

The Company had traveled without incident for some time when they finally paused to rest. Their path to Lothlorien was clear to them, but their progress seemed slow. Always, it seemed, their journey was delayed. Orc attacks, obstacles in the road, dried river beds forcing a search for fresh water, these and other incidents had added many days to an already overlong journey.


Elladan rode ahead of the others scouting to be sure of their path. Beside him rode Aglarelen, who had insisted on coming along. In truth, only Elrond, Estel, and Glorfindel had paused in the journey. While Elladan and Aglarelen scouted their path, Elrohir and Legolas had slipped off to hunt for their dinner.

The Crown Prince of Mirkwood seemed unsettled, distant. Elladan knew his thoughts centered on his brother, and, in truth, Elladan couldn't draw his own thoughts from Legolas' condition for any length of time, either.

As they traveled closer to Lothlorien, however, he allowed himself some hope, and it was this he tried to share with Aglarelen. Turning to the Crown Prince, he cleared his throat. "They will know what to do."

Aglarelen glanced in Elladan's direction before turning his gaze again to the road before him. "They may not."

Elladan shook his head. "They"

Aglarelen cut him off. "Neither your father, nor mine, had ever heard of such a malady."

"It may not be a malady. If it is a spell, perhaps The Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood"

"That is conjecture only." He drew up short, stopping his horse. "Lord Elrond had no answers and, rather than dash our hopes, clung to this plan to ask the Lady Galadriel." He urged his horse forward, not looking to see if Elladan followed.

But Elladan did follow. Moving his horse to a canter next to Aglarelen's, he remained silent for a moment before allowing himself to voice his thoughts. "Ah! Now I see where Legolas gets both his inflexibility and his melancholia."

Aglarelen glared at Elladan. "Neither I, nor my brother, are any of those things!"

"Aglarelen, if you have no hope for his recovery, do you not think Legolas will sense this?" Elladan sighed. "Consider this, my friend." He turned his attention back to his scouting leaving Aglarelen to stare after him pondering his words.

**

Legolas crept silently, keeping pace with Elrohir. His friend turned to him then, making a series of complicated hand gestures, to which Legolas replied in kind. Each nodded to his companion before they parted company, moving silently in opposite directions and skirting a small clearing.

Legolas peered through the thick leaves and ground cover to catch sight of their quarry. A buck, just into adulthood, stood sipping serenely from a shallow stream. With practiced ease, he drew an arrow from his quiver and aimed at the animal. Long years of experience forced him to hold the position for another few moments, and, at the precise moment the buck turned its head slightly in his direction, Legolas loosed his arrow.


The arrow flew straight and true, piercing the animal's eye and entering its brain. It was dead instantly.

Legolas thanked the Valar for many things then. For allowing him to take the buck's life to feed his companions, for granting the bounty of Middle-earth in the first place, and for gracing him with the skills to take the animal's life without causing it to suffer needlessly.

He stepped from his cover and moved to the animal's side meeting Elrohir, who's concealment had been closer.

"Impressive shot, my friend." The elf spoke warmly, as though the words were expected, but Legolas could tell that he was indeed impressed.

"You could have done it just as easily, mellonin." Legolas laughed.

"Not from that distance. Your skills exceed mine with bow and arrow, Legolas." Elrohir had always preferred sword to bow. He knelt by the animal, asking with a gesture if Legolas minded if he began the butchering here. With a wave of his hand, Legolas granted permission, and drew a knife of his own to assist.

They worked in silence for a short time, the easy camaraderie of long years of association making it easy for the two to work as one.

Elrohir watched Legolas as he easily separated meat from bone and hide setting aside what would need to be tanned if possible and what could be eaten.

Legolas eventually became aware of his friend's attention. He met the other's eyes. "What?"

"You seem more yourself, lately." He hesitated before continuing. "You seem comfortable"

Legolas blinked in surprise. In truth, he felt more himself. Though the absence of the Song, and the need for sleep and food on a scale he could never have imagined, made him sometimes painfully aware of the differences, he was finally adapting to hiscondition.

He smiled faintly. "I suppose I am. I suppose it was necessary." He shrugged and went back to his work.

"It will not be necessary for long, mellonin." Elrohir's vehemence surprised Legolas. It was usually Estel who spoke so.

Legolas laughed then, noting how Elrohir forced himself not to be startled at the very human sound. "We do not need to speak of it, Elrohir. We have a long journey ahead of us. We can worry over the reason for it once we have reached Lothlorien."

Elrohir nodded allowing a smile upon his face as the two fell back into the easy rhythm of their work.

**

Glorfindel watched from a short distance as Elrond again tended Estel's wounds changing bandages and reapplying athelas and other herbs where needed. The number of injuries the human had managed to amass in his short lifespan was astonishing to the elf. Beatings, broken bones, bites from all sorts of animals, wounds from arrows, knives, and swordseach seemed worse than the last, and, though Estel recovered from them all, Glorfindel knew something the depth of which he was sure the human did not fathom. Lord Elrond felt each one as though it pierced his own fleshnay, for that would be easier to bear for the Lord. He felt each as though it pierced his heart.

Elrond was easily the most skilled healer he had ever met, but Glorfindel could see that it took a toll on his friend to have to tend to his human son. The elf lord would do anything to spare his son the pain he so routinely suffered, and, as he had told Glorfindel, he had no wish to watch his son die.

Glorfindel knew Elrond worried for his other sons, perhaps more than he should, but the twins had been chasing danger since their mother's capture by orcs and eventual departure for Valinor. They practically courted danger, and would likely do so as long as they remained in Middle-earth, for they would stand by their human brother in his need even should he face Morgoth himself.

Glorfindel heard the easy banter between father and son as he drew near. Estel was again insisting that he was well, while Elrond was again insisting that Estel was no judge of his own health.

"I will tell you when you are well, my son. You have pushed too far already today." Elrond's voice was insistent and firm. There would be no arguing, cajoling, or persuading this time.

Not to say that Estel wouldn't try. "But ada"

"Estel, pleasedo not"

Aragorn shut his mouth, unaccustomed to the tone of weariness and defeat in his father's voice. Unable to frame a reply, he simply studied his father.

Elrond must have realized how he had sounded, for even as Glorfindel watched, the elf lord shook off his worried and smiled comfortingly at his son. "Rest, Estel. You will heal well if you only give yourself the time you need."

Aragorn nodded and allowed his father to change his last bandages unchallenged.

When Elrond was finished, Glorfindel caught his eye. Rising, Elrond moved to his friend's side, aware that, though he could not hear them, Estel watched them.

"What is it, my friend?" Elrond asked knowing full well what Glorfindel would say.

"You admonish your sonyour sonseven the sons of othersto take care of themselves and take their rest, yet when was the last time you allowed yourself to take any rest yourself?" Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at Elrond in silent imitation of the elf lord's most intimidating expression.

"I am well, mellonin." Elrond spoke with a weariness in his voice that Glorfindel had heard there on the rarest of occasions.

"You are not well, mellonin." Glorfindel replied in the same tone of voice.

"Is this some trick of yours to stand in imitation of me? If so, I fail to see what you hope to accomplish." Elrond crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"My friend, you do yourself a misdeed by not taking your own advice. Your son heals, yet you sit up most of each night and watch him." Glorfindel smiled at his friend's surprise. "Yes, I have seen you. You must know that you will be neededrested and strongto care for Estel and to care for any others who are injured along the waybut mostly, to assist the Lady Galadriel in any attempt to heal Prince Legolas!"

Elrond sighed, and Glorfindel allowed him a moment to consider what he'd said, but when Elrond opened his mouth to speak, Glorfindel cut off the words with a wave of his hand. "Starting now, my friend." He grasped Elrond's shoulders and steered him towards his own bedroll. "Sleep. I will wake you when Legolas and Elrohir have made your supper."

Elrond laughed, but did not protest. He glanced at Estel who had taken it all in. Elrond glared at his son, but there was a glint of amusement in his voice. "You saw none of this, my son. You are dreaming."

Estel grinned. "I must be, ada, but it is a dream I think I should share with my brothers."

"Go right ahead. Be sure to tell them all about it over your cup of tea in the morning." Elrond's amusement grew as Estel's eyes widened in surprise.

"You would not!"

Elrond smiled as he settled down to sleep, but he did not answer.

Estel stared at his father for several minutes, then looked to Glorfindel. "He would not!"

Glorfindel laughed. "Wouldn't he?"

Estel just continued to stare at his sleeping father.

**

The evening was clear; thousands of stars appearing above them, and Aglarelen took comfort at the sight of them. Their dinner over, the group had soon drifted to sleep. Glorfindel had taken the evening's watch, insisting that he had slept enough recently, and would be fine to doze in the morning during their journey.

Their journey. Aglarelen knew not why he felt this way, but the journey seemed to him to be taking longer than it should. He wanted nothing more than to find a cure for his brother and return home. Somehow, they seemed to travel more slowly even as they tried to increase their speed. Perhaps this was all in his mind. His own anxieties over his youngest brother's condition could be lengthening the hours, masking his perceptions so that it seemed to take more time to cover short distances.

His uncertainty pulled at his attention until it nearly consumed him. He glanced around their campsite looking for comfort in the familiar actions of his comrades.

Elrond and Glorfindel seemed deep in conversation, but he could hear a faint trace of laughter and knew they traded tales and memories of their younger days.

Elladan and Elrohir sat silently side by side as they sharpened their swords, their movements almost identical.

Aragorn and Legolas sat by the fire. Aglarelen gasped at the sight of Legolas. A small, mischievous smile graced his brother's face and the glow of the fire made him seem soit almost broke his heart.

His gaze remained on Legolas for some time, before he forced his attention away. He did not want to cause his brother any distress by reminding him of what he'd lostas if Legolas could forget! As Aglarelen settled down to sleep, something caught his attention. Turning his head, he scanned the area, but could find nothing amissthere through the treesa brief flash of blue

To be continued

Responses to reviews:

Xsilicax: Thanks for your review. Was this too long between updates? (LOL)

Chloe Amethyst: I always love reading your insights! Yes, that was why I included the bit with Legolas' flashback. I was trying to illustrate Legolas' affinity for all life. I'm thrilled that it came across.

Orlando is hot: Nice name! (LOL!) Thanks so much! I'm overjoyed that you're liking this.

Gwyn: Thanks! I was afraid of the story being too angst ridden, so I purposely tried to work in a few lighter moments. I think it parallels the Elvish existence anywayeverything being bittersweet and all of that. I don't know myself if Tolkien intended to imply that Sauron sent anyone after Aragorn, or if I simply chose to infer it. Tolkien was known to change his mind on things even after they'd been published, after all, but that one line in the book always captivated me, and plot bunnies can come from the darnedest places. And, yeah, you caught me. This isn't an AU story. I'll say no more!

Leggylover03: Not to worry more angst and pain is on the way.

Padfoot4ever: Thanks! I'll try to be quicker.

Andmetwen: Thanks! I hope you like this one, too.

Sirithiliel: Thanks! I appreciate a review of any length, and I'm glad you took the time to let me know you liked the story even when you were so busy! I hope you like the rest!


Barbara Kennedy: Thanks! I'm glad the flashbacks worked! I was so worried about that!

Lady Sandry: How's this? Now I've updated this and the POTC fic all in a matter of days. I'll get right back to the POTC now!