See part one for disclaimer.

Please forgive the long delay. I am going to make a concerted effort to update more frequently in the New Year! Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! It does mean the world to me! Responses to reviews at end of chapter.

Encroaching Darkness Part 11

By Ecri

Gandalf was lost in thought and an uneasy silence had settled around himself and his elven companions as they moved further and further from Lothlorien. The warnings of the Lady of the Wood replayed in his mind. He knew, as she did, that they were running out of time. Something had happened, and Galadriel's ominous words about reaching those in trouble only in time to bury the dead had not surprised him. He had felt some darkness growing, but what it was he could not guess.

There was something deeper here, however, something that stirred the Lady of the Wood to make this journey. Something that haunted her though she herself did not know quite what it was.

He closed his eyes trusting his steed to carry him without need of his own direction and reached out for answers. Finding nothing but an urgent hint of impending doom, he sighed and opened his eyes. He could do no more than hope that things would be set right.

He glanced then at Celeborn a question on his face. The elf lord shook his head once indicating he knew no more than did the Wizard. Galadriel simply rode on, not looking at either of her companions.


Gandalf watched her briefly, then drew his attention back to their surroundings. If evil was abroad, it would be best if he kept his wits about him.

**

Elrond made his way through the underbrush, cursing his uncharacteristic lack of grace and swiftness. Whatever odd condition had befallen him and the others, it was slow in leaving him. Losing his balance, he braced one hand against a tree and closed his eyes. Summoning strength from deep within, he inhaled deeply allowing the scent of the fresh, clean air to ease his pains.

He wasn't choosing his path as carefully as he might and he berated himself for what amounted to a headlong dash into the unknown. If he intended to be any help at all to wayward son and his friend, Lord Elrond knew he had to exercise some caution.

He glanced around the forest looking for some sign of his son's or Legolas' trail. It would have been a nearly impossible thing if both had been more themselves for the signs of their passing would have been nigh impossible to follow. As it was, however, he could easily follow the pair, which made him worry all the more.

What force could incapacitate elves and somehow manage to lead Aragorn and Legolas, both experienced hunters, to leave such an obvious trail? The answers he gave himself only heightened his anxiety and pushed him to shake off his own ills in order to focus more clearly on his task.

The Elf Lord moved cautiously but alertly through the woods, and it was as he approached a small cavern that he felt the dread in the pit of his stomach leap upwards and take a stranglehold on his heart. Some evil was within that cave. He could feel its presence as surely as he could feel the grass beneath his feetand the trail he followed led straight to it.

**

A strange sensation, an urgency he did not understand plagued Aragorn. He struggled to open his eyes, but found them uncooperative. Relying on his hearing for information about the world around him, he heard the sound of running feet, and, connecting it to the motion he felt in his body, realized he was running. Alone? He could not be running unaided more than half unconscious.

He moaned as a particularly jarring step made him vaguely aware of an arm supporting him about his waist. His own arm seemed to be draped across someone's shoulders even as he realized that the hand on that draped arm was clasped firmly about the wrist as though to keep it from slipping away.

Then he was falling.

Gasping for breath and trying to moan in pain at the same time, Aragorn felt the hands that supported him pull away. He forced his eyes open but saw nothing but shadow on shadow. A dark shape moved before his eyes and the gentle hands returned easing him up. It was only then that Aragorn became aware that he had landed on the very person who had been helping him. He caught one of the hands, and heard the sharp intake of breath as he surprised the being here with him.

"Estel?" The joy in the voice was unmistakable, but so was the pain. Immediately concerned for his friend, Aragorn's grip on Legolas' wrist tightened slightly.

"Legolas? Are you alright?"

"That is a question I would ask you, my friend. I had feared the Wizard's grip on you was too strong for me to break." The Prince's voice was soft and hurried as though he feared they would be overheard.


Unconsciously mimicking the tone, Aragorn whispered as well. "I am well, my friend. Well," he amended, imagining he could see one slender eyebrow rising in disbelief. "Except for this pounding headache, I am well." The would-be King of Gondor heard a sound something like a snort and something like a laugh that brought a smile to his face. "Legolas, where are we? What has happened?"

Legolas sighed. "I have not the time for lengthy explanations. Suffice to say we are again lost in cave while enemies hunt us with little hope of outside help."

Ignoring the feeble attempt at sarcasm, Aragorn frowned at what he sensed in his friend's tone. "You are in pain." Aragorn did not make it a question. Mortal or immortal as his friend might be, he still knew the Prince of Mirkwood well enough to know this.

Legolas inhaled sharply as he shifted his weight again. "I have not the time for that either, Estel. Come. We must find our way out of the cave before the missing Wizard finds us."

"That is twice you have mentioned Wizards. What are you hiding from me?" Aragorn reached out a hand to his friend's face, surprised when Legolas moved away from him. Awkward silence filled the cavern until Legolas cleared his throat.

"You startled me, my friend. That is all."

Determination to discover what Legolas hid from him forced the man to reach out again quite suddenly. His hand rested on Legolas' face and he felt the wet, sticky substance that dripped down the length of one side. "Legolas! You are injured."

"I am well" He stopped himself and started again. "I have not the time to worry over any hurt other that that which might stop us. If you are able to stand and walk, my friend, we should be on our way. I know not when the Wizard will return, nor do I know what condition he is in, save that he is likely to be very angry." He paused again, not liking what he had to say. "I am injured, Estel. I cannot walk quickly or well. My arrows are spent, and it was too dark to find them. II have lost my way in this cursed cavern."


His next words were muffled, and Aragorn guessed that he had lowered his head in shame.

"I have no way to protect us save my knives, and, with a broken ankle and little light, I am hardly able to use those as well as I would like." His voice grew clearer as he admonished his friend. "We have little in our favor, Estel, so do not waste time thinking you can heal a hurt you cannot see."

A thousand questions raced through Aragorn's mind, but knowing Legolas well, he pushed them aside and stood slowly. Reaching a hand out to his friend, he was relieved to feel Legolas firm grip on his wrist that meant Legolas would allow him to help. "Come, my friend. Let us waste no time."

Aragorn draped Legolas' arm around his own shoulders much as Legolas had held onto him before he had regained consciousness. Carefully, with Legolas not daring to put any weight at all on his broken ankle, the pair began to move. With any luck, they would find the cave entrance before the Wizard found them.

**

The First mumbled softly to himself as he wrapped the hand the elf arrow had pierced. His anger and grief grew with each passing moment. The Second was dead and no magic could bring him back. Astonished that this would be so, he had spent no small amount of time trying spell after spell to resurrect his dead brother. He knew the man and his strangely elvish though not-elvish friend were still within the cave. He knew they were hurt, and now he knew that they had—permanently—killed his brother.

He would not let them leave alive.

Half-a-hundred macabre notions entered his mind, but he discarded each and every one. Whatever final payment they would make for taking The Second's life, he knew only that it would be a long and torturous ordeal, even if he had to extend their lives through magical means to insure that they would suffer endlessly.

Taking a deep breath, The First let loose a howl of rage as he raced through his caves to find and punish the killers.

**

Legolas and Aragorn moved as swiftly as they were able. They had just come to a place where they must choose one direction over another when a great wail echoed through the cavern. Instinctively they turned towards each other though neither could make out the other's face. "He will come soon." Legolas whispered. "We must hurry. Perhaps we can rouse the others together"

"Rouse? What do you mean?"

Legolas cursed himself. He had not told Aragorn about the state in which he had left Lord Elrond and the others. He had not wanted to worry his friend, and, in truth, he could think of no way to help them anyway. The pain from his ankle and the frightful sound of that grief-filled shriek had muddled his thinking. He shook his head as though to clear it, but tried to move on through the cavern without answering the question. Reluctance was something Aragorn could fight, however.

"Come, Legolas. Even had you meant to keep something from me, there's no point to it now." Aragorn gestured towards the two tunnels between which they much choose. "We have a decision to make, Legolas, and I will not go on until I know what has happened."

Legolas nodded. "Very well, my stubborn friend. I will tell you but only if we keep moving." They chose one of the tunnels hoping it would lead them out of the darkness while Legolas explained how he had found the others unmoving and had been forced to leave them. Doubt as to the correctness of the decision, in light of their current condition, flooded through the former elf's mind. "I knew not what else to do, Estel," he whispered, his broken heart lacing his words with regret, sorrow, and grief. "I was loathe to leave them alone and unprotected, but there was nothing I could do for them. I could not leave you to wander through the forest just as alone and unprotected."

"Legolas, you needn't explain why you left. You did what you thought best. They may be awake now. We should find them." He led Legolas through the cave, and the Prince was grateful that he had said what he had, though he wasn't entirely certain the man wasn't consumed with worry for his family even as Legolas himself was.

As they moved through the darkness, Legolas strained his sight wishing to see some hint that they were going in the right direction. It also kept his thoughts from lingering on the picture in his mind of Lord Elrond, Aglarelen, and the others gripped in some unnatural sleep and at the mercy of any creatures that might come upon them.


Whether the darkness or the fact that his attention was not on where he was going, he didn't notice the rock in his path until his slightly raised and still throbbing foot slammed into it. Muffling a scream, he lost his balance and fell to the ground taking Aragorn with him. Hot tears stood in his eyes, as his hands moved instinctively to his ankle though he did not try to touch it and only gripped his leg slightly higher than the injury.

Aragorn was by his side in an instant speaking soothingly though his words were lost to the prince as the agony in his ankle consumed his attention. Rocking back and forth, he wondered at the pain. More intense than he was accustomed to from broken bones, his ankle throbbed in time to his heartbeat, which was racing. He had tried to ignore the pain as he and Aragorn groped blindly through the dark corridors of the cave. He had tried to listen to Aragorn instead of to the ache in his severed bones with each awkward step they took.

In truth, his concern over Argorn's headache had grown as they had walked. His friend was usually loathe to admit to any sort of pain, but twice in their meanderings he had made reference to his aching temple. His concern for Aragorn had almost overridden his own agony. That blasted rock had taken all other thoughts from him, and until the pain began to subside, Legolas could barely take in what Aragorn was saying.

"LegolasI cannot splint it until I can find some branches." Legolas felt more than saw Aragorn gesture around the cave. "There are none here, as I am sure you know, my friend.

Legolas took a deep steadying breath. The pain was beginning to recede. "It is well, Aragorn. Comewe must go on."

Aragorn's grip on Legolas' arm kept the former elf still. "Are you sure you are able?"

"I have no choice." His whisper, though filled with pain, made plain his determination.


"Come, then, Legolas" Whatever more he might have said was interrupted by the sound of a strange cackling laugh.

"You will go nowehere!" The raspy voice, as though long unused, spoke in tones both loud and angry. Legolas and Aragorn turned to see a sight they would not soon forget. The Blue Wizard stood tall and dangerous behind them, his eyes wide and glowing in the light of the torch he held blazing above his head.

Legolas watched as Aragorn instinctively reached for the sword he did not possess. The Prince thrust one of his elven blades into his friend's groping hand. He looked at his friend, surprised to be able to see him so clearly after hours of stumbling in the darkness. He hefted his other knife in his hand and put out a shaky hand to the rock wall next to him. Unsteadily rising to his feet, he nodded once to Aragorn and the man took the cue and rose to stand beside him.

Legolas had little hope they would be able to defeat this enraged wizard's dark magic, but what hope he had rested in his friend.

**

Lord Elrond walked cautiously through the cavern. He held aloft a torch he had quickly fashioned as soon as he had realized where he would be forced to go. In his other hand, he held tightly to his sword.

The evil he felt within the cave troubled him. He knew Aragorn and Legolas would most certainly have sensed it. Why then would they choose to enter? That it might not have been a choice troubled him even more.

The spell that had been cast upon all of the elves in the company had surely been meant to deprive the young ones of any aid. Had it been an attack against Aragorn, against Legolas, or against both of them? Regardless of whom it had been meant to isolate, that some evil now held them was apparent. What evil? What entity now held the Hope of Men and the youngest Prince of Mirkwood? What would that evil do to them?


Questions piled upon questions, and it was all Elrond could do to keep his troubled mind from tormenting him with possible scenarios.

With great effort, he forced such visions from his mind and moved steadily forward. His path was chosen not by his sight or his hearing buy by instinct and the whispers of his heart. He focused on the missing pair and listened for some thought, some stray hint of the path they had taken. It was impossible to hide their essence from him. One was his son, and one was an elvish prince. He could not lose this trail cold though it might grow.

He stopped then when he heard an unearthly cry. His brow furrowed as he increased his pace. That cry held the promise of vengeance in it, and Elrond did not need to guess at whom it must be directed. His fingers tightened on his sword hilt even as he moved deeper into the darkness.

**

Gandalf glanced around at the impromptu camp they had made. He and the Lothlorien Elves had been traveling fast and steadily for more hours than he cared to admit, but could not maintain that pace without at least resting the horses. A brief meal and a short time walking upon their own legs while their steeds grazed nearby or drank deeply of the clear, cool stream would help them keep to the road.

They had not spoken of the need for urgency in some hourse, but they each felt it. Galadriel felt it perhaps more than the others, but Celeborn's eyes grew haunted the further they traveled. Whether the Lord picked up on his Lady's distress or had begun to feel his own forebodings Gandalf was not prepared to guess.

Gandalf settled now against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. He sensed the movement about the small fire they'd built to prepare the evening meal. Galadriel and Celeborn sat nearby taking comfort in their closeness, companionship, and silent communication.

Gandalf allowed the sounds of the camp to drift through his mind as he searched for some hint of the danger about which Galadriel had warned them. The layers of sounds, from the stirring of the stew, to the whinnying of the horses, to the call of birds, to the babble of the streamnature carried the weary wizard away and his concentration sought some focus he could not identify.

His consciousness floated above Middle-earth and through the air and earth, and it was the earth that gave him his first clue. Down, deep within the bowels of the Middle-earth, Gandalf the Grey felt a familiar presence. One of his brethren, if he dared hazard a guess, had returned from far away.

As he lingered in light contact with the other Maia, his thoughts alighted upon another. Two of his brethren, then. Deep within the earth was an odd place to find a Wizard, let alone two, but then, he mused, he himself had been forced to travel the road through Moria, though he hoped never to have to enter those dark, dismal mines again.

He was about to move away and allow his consciousness to search elsewhere for the trouble Galadriel had sensed, when something, some undeniable force bade him stay. Hearing the intent before grasping the words of the spells being used, Galdalf was certain he had found what he had sought.

It wasn't until he heard a preternatural wailing that made his blood run cold. His eyes flew open and he stared at Galadriel and Celeborn, who stared at him as though knowing precisely what he had seen. He stood even as he spoke, urgency evident in his every move.

"We have not the time to eat. We must move on!" He moved with unprecedented haste to his horse and vaulted easily upon his back. With a clear whistle and a loud, solid yell, Gandalf raced away towards what he had heard hoping only that he could get there before it was too late.

To Be Continued

Leggylover03, dark-coyote, Fire Eagle: Sorry this wasn't ready sooner.

Roccovende, Gwyn, Slea, Sirithiliel: Thank you!


Catherinexxix: I'm glad you like the relationship between Aragorn and Legolas and am even more gratified that you liked Elrond's waking. I was afraid that part might not be too believable. Thanks!


Strider's Girl: Sorry I didn't answer all the questions, but I hope to get to more of them in the next chapter.

elvingirl3737: Why, thank you so much! I am thrilled that you think I am so good at getting characters right. I am also very pleased that you like my POTC fic. I expect to have another update for that one very soon.


White Wolf1: Yes, poor Legolas has broken his foot! Of course, Aragorn isn't quite well, either. I am glad that you, too, like catherinexxix, liked the description and the waking of Elrond. That part was difficult to write without getting bogged down in over-sentimentality and I am really pleased that my intent came across.

Chloe Amethyst: Yeaaaayy! Another vote in favor of the Elrond waking scene! I'm tickled that so many of you chose to point out that that scene worked for you. Thank you for your constructive criticism. I reread the chapter and you are correct. I'll be reworking some of that as soon as I have a chance. Thanks so much for reading!

Bear: thanks! I'm overjoyed that you love it, and that you like the "mini-stories" under the greater umbrella of the larger one. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!

Grumpy: I'm glad you like the idea of the Blue Wizards, though those are straight from Tolkienof course, I've taken a lot of liberty!

Psycho-dreamer: How flattering! Thank you!

Jadesaber: I'm glad you like it and I do intend to update more frequently.


Deana: Sorry this took so long.