See part one for disclaimer. Responses to reviews at end of chapter.
I'm sorry this chapter took longer than you're all used to. This one's a little more complicated, and I had to be careful how I worded several passages. I know I said the story might be winding down, but I'm not so sure that's the case. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and please review!
Encroaching Darkness Part 21
By Ecri
Gandalf stared at the face of this Ranger, this man who saw his destiny as a curse, and wondered if the Enemy had finally succeeded. Aragorn yet lived, or at least his body did. Yet inside, there wasnothing.
Gandalf searched his mind for some precedent, but he could not recall having read about, heard of, or encountered such a thing before. He had seen serious injury before. Indeed, he had seen injuries that left men's spirits trapped inside useless bodies that would not heed their will. In all those instances, however, he had never found anything to suggest that mind and spirit would flea a body and leave behind an empty husk.
Puzzled, and, truth be told, rather fearful of what this might portend, Gandalf glanced to Celeborn and Galadriel, but they wore puzzled expressions of their own. Elrond, the Grey Wizard noted, worked tirelessly, forcing some elixir of sorts down Estel's throat with Celeborn's help. Only when he had finished, did the Peredhel reach out to touch his son as Gandalf had done.
Shock, surprise, and fear warred for dominance on Elrond's face as the Elf Lord realized he could not reach Estel. The Wizard saw each emotion as it flitted across the elven eyes and waited for the inevitable.
"Mithrandir"
"I know not what causes this, my friend." The Grey looked then to the White, hoping for some insight he did not himself possess.
Saruman stepped forward. "Has the medicine not helped?"
Gandalf explained what he had felt, or, rather, what he had not felt. Saruman nodded. "I see." He was silent for some time, and Gandalf feared he was so lost in thought that they might not receive any instructions at all.
Shortly, the White Wizard turned to Gandalf. "We should rest this night. Perhaps we may cure the human in the morning, not to mention those others among us who may yet be injured. He is in no immediate physical danger, and the situation may right itself once his body has had time to absorb the medicines it has been given."
Reluctantly, all present began to nod in assent, and move about the camp intent on finding rest.
Gandalf, most reluctant of all, moved silently towards Thranduil. There he saw just what he expected to see. Legolas stared up at him from the safe circle of his father's embrace. "How is he, Gandalf? Is he healing?"
The Elf-turned-human had all the answer he needed written plainly in Gandalf's eyes, but he would not accept it. "Nay! Mithrandir, do not give up! He will be well. He will live!" Weakly, the prince struggled as though to rise, but he failed in this. Instead he raised eyes to his father. "Adahelp me to go to him"
Thranduil cut him off. "You will rest right here, my son."
Gandalf's heart bled for the young prince, who ever wore his pain upon his face unless he remembered to conceal it well. He nodded in support of Thranduil's words. "Listen to your father, young one. Saruman is right. It has been a tiring day. Estel is out of danger for now, and tomorrowwell, it is another day, isn't it?"
He felt his words woefully inadequate, but he had no others to offer. The fight with Alatar, the flight through the caverns, and the fright of Estel's condition had all taken its toll. At this moment, Gandalf felt every one of the long years he had lived.
**
Aglarelen watched Legolas long after his father had fallen asleep. He felt the fear and worry rolling off his young sibling in waves, and knew, like he knew his own name, that Legolas would not be stopped.
Sure enough, after Thranduil had fallen into a deep elven sleep, exhausted, mentally and physically, by his mad dash through Middle-earth to find his sons, Legolas stirred.
Aglarelen watched the youngling, shocked, though impressed by his determination. Legolas, shifted and squirmed, moving in minute increments and resting, then beginning again. After some time, he was able to pull gently away from Thranduil on hands and knees, but there his strength gave out. Quivering limbs refused to support his weight and dropped him to the ground. Aglarelen actually winced when he saw that the force of falling onto his wound had driven all air from his brother's lungs. He was by Legolas' side in an instant.
"Legolas, it you are trying to open your wound again, you are doing a fine job." His voice was a hushed whisper, but he spoke close to Legolas' now human ear so that he could be certain he was heard.
Legolas looked fearfully up at his brother. When he could take in enough air to speak, he did so, clutching Aglarelen's arm in a fierce grip. "I need to see him, Aglarelen! I must see Estel with my own eyes."
"You can see him from where you were, my brother! You wish to help him. Though, what makes you think you can do what the best healers in elvendom cannot" He paused, noting the look in his brothers eyes. Voice and heart softened instantly. "Ah, Greenleaf" Gently, he lifted his brother and carried him to his friend's side.
The gratitude in Legolas' face melted to worry when he looked at Estel. "Estel?" Legolas looked back to his brother. "Ada would not tell me what was wrong. He will be well."
He spoke with conviction, and Aglarelen settled sadly beside him. "Do you truly believe that, my brother?"
Legolas nodded.
"The why do you look at him with such fear in your eyes?"
Legolas allowed a sheepish smile. "I do not know if he knows it. I have heard of men affecting their destiny if they do not believe in it."
Aglarelen laughed. "Well, how do you propose we find out?"
Legolas seemed to consider the words. "I do not know."
"Take his hand. Speak to him." Aglarelen knew not why he said such a thing. It could not help. Legolas was not elven any longer, nor a healer. He could not pass his own grace to the human, nor could he mix up some forgotten combination of plants to make an elixir that would do better than Lord Elrond's own concoctions. Whatever powers he did not possess, however, were nothing to the one he did possess. There was one thing Legolas had never lost. Faltered, perhaps, in the darkest of moments, and then only in reference to himself. It was his faith—most especially his faith in others. He believed in Aragorn, and he could bring a person back from the brink of an abyss by believing in him. Such was the power of the faith of Legolas Thranduilion.
Aglarelen could recall a time not that long ago, as elves reckon such things, when he had himself languished under the care of Mirkwood's healers. An uncommon combination of spider venom and a severe gash from an orc blade had all but taken him to Mandos' Hall. It was Legolas who whispered to him to return. It was Legolas who was somehow by his bed each time he'd drifted awake still fighting pain and illness. It was Legolas who told Aglarelen over and over again that it was not yet time for him to leave Middle-earth and that when he did leave these shores, it would be to go to the Undying Lands rather than to the Halls of Mandos.
He had felt then that Legolas had somehow maintained a hold on his fëa refusing to allow him to leave. "You can help him find his way, my Greenleaf."
Aglarelen watched his brother's face as he took Estel's hand in his own. After a moment or two, Legolas frowned. He bent closer to the man then and called to him. "Estel, mellonin" But whatever other words Legolas used, Aglarelen could not hear then.
After a few moments, Legolas began to tremble, and Aglarelen assumed he had pushed himself too far. Taking his brother by the shoulders, he was surprised anew at how cold he seemed. Aglarelen, for all his acceptance of his brother's condition, found himself forgetting it from time to time. No elf felt the cold like this, especially as this was such a warm night.
"Legolas?" He called his brother's name several times, and shook the lithe frame, but could not wake him. Fear gripped his heart. He did not wish to disturb everyone, but could not bear to leave his brother's side to rouse only Elrond and Thranduil. The notion that he was the only thing tying Legolas and Aragorn to Arda, silly as it was, would not leave him.
Calling out in a clear voice, he roused the others. "Ada! Lord Elrond! Help them!" He did not have to repeat himself. In no time at all, Thranduil and Elrond knelt by their sons. Both fathers questioned Aglarelen, but he felt his answers woefully inadequate in light of what unfolded before him.
Gandalf stepped closer. His presence neither demanding nor brusque. He was there to help if they would allow it.
Aglarelen saw Elrond nod and gesture to the pair. Legolas had been moved, but his white-knuckled grip upon Estel's hand could not be loosened. Mumbling like a restless sleeper, Legolas repeated over and again, "Estel! Im si! Si boe ú-dhannathach!" (Estel. I'm here! You cannot falter now!)
He looked to his father, confused at Legolas' words, but Thranduil only shook his head. It was plain that whatever Legolas spoke of none here knew what it could be.
**
Elrond was startled from a restless, dreamlike state. Sitting up before he was fully aware, his head swiveled of its own accord to the source of the sound. It was Aglarelen sitting by Estel andLegolas? When he had retired for the evening, knowing he would get little rest, Legolas had been asleep by his father's side. A quick look toward a disoriented Thranduil revealed he was as surprised as Elrond that he was not holding his youngest child.
Leaping to his feet, the Lord of Imladris made his way nimbly to the trio. He placed a hand on his son's head, alarmed to find it cold. Estel had always been healthy. It was the gift to the Numenor that, along with long life, they would suffer no illness, but fever could come after severe injury. The coolness was startling, and he could think of no reason for it, though the cold of human death came quickly to mind. Frantically, he examined his son more closely to be sure he yet lived.
Satisfied that he was alive, if only barely, Elrond turned his attention to Legolas. The prince held tight to Estel's hand, and seemed to have fallen by his side. Mumbling as though fevered himself, he was pleading with Estel not to falter. Elrond frowned and checked the Prince's head as well, finding him as cool to the touch as Estel.
He turned to Aglarelen. "What happened?"
Aglarelen, stumbling over the words, explained Legolas' worry over Estel, and his certainty that the Ranger would be well if he could be made to believe in himself. As the Lord questioned Aglarelen, Gandalf approached from behind.
Elrond looked at the Wizard. He was out of his element here, and well he knew it. He was skilled in healing arts, but he had been baffled by Estel's condition earlier. He was no less so now. He gestured to the friends and stepped aside to make room for the Istar.
Gandalf held a hand out over the two, and, as he did so, Saruman approached. He did not offer help, but stood on the fringe of the group, observing, and, Elrond was sure, ready to assist if called upon. Knowing there were two Wizards—two Maiar—ready to assist in this dark hour eased his mind, though, oddly, not his heart.
The Elf Lord turned his attention back to Gandalf and their patients. Gandalf's eyes were closed. A frown grew even as he opened them again. "It is not improved. Indeed, it is quite worse. Estel isnot hereyet Legolaslooks for him."
Elrond heard the word, but did not listen to Thranduil's reply, remembering what Gandalf had said earlier when Saruman had advised them to rest. Rest! What had he been thinking? How could he think of resting when his son was in such a state? Elrohir had urged him to continued, but had not been able to offer a suggestion as to what treatment could counter such an odd affliction. Glorfindel, too, had been reluctant to see them cease their trials, but in the end had supported the plan, though Elrond felt certain that was more from his friend's ages old desire to see Elrond Half-elven take better care of himself.
Legolas alone would not be dissuaded. Long after the others had fallen asleep or lost themselves in their thoughts. Elrond had heard the youngling pleading with his father to allow him to go to his friend.
Somehow, he must have done just that.
Elrond looked up into the night sky not aware he was searching for his father's star until his eyes found it. He had no words this night. No pleas for salvation or succor crossed his mind or his lips. Sometimes, just seeing Eärendil was enough to comfort his raging heart and clear his clouded mind.
He inhaled deeply noting the scent of athelas, clean and invigorating, still hung in the air. The calming effect of star and scent gave Elrond strength to speak once again, and he turned to Gandalf. "What are we to do?""
Gandalf seemed about to speak, but Saruman stepped forward and spoke first. "What are we to do? What do you expect? We cannot combat an illness if we cannot find the cause nor what is caused!"
Elrond nodded, bristling at the intent of those harsh words. "I can treat the symptoms if nothing else."
"Treat the symptoms? His spirit has fled this life, yet his body clings to it. How would you treat such a thing?" Saruman did not smile, nor was there glee in his voice, but Elrond heard impatience and irritation.
"I do not ask you to understand." Indeed, Elrond thought, Maia or no, the Wizard could not understand the bond he felt with this humanor indeed with this elvish prince—though elvish he was no longer. He looked Saruman in the eye. "I will not give up." His gaze fell on Legolas, oblivious, it seemed, to the debate raging around him, yet still pleading with his friend to return to them. Ai! He thought. Why did I falter? Why did I not understand what you told me, Ernil o Taur-e-Ndaedelos? (Prince of the Forest of Great Fear)
The thought haunted him, and, he was sure, regardless of the outcome of this trial, would do so for the rest of his life.
**
Aragorn huddled still behind the walls of his own making. Awash in the pain that held his heart like a vice, he could not have said where he was, why he was, or that he was. There was only this endless sea of misery tormenting him in unrelenting waves.
He knew not how long he remained lost even to himself, but after a time, he felt a shift, a presence here with him. It should have terrified him, he knew that something or someone might have found a way to him, for, though he recalled little, he knew he was hiding.
The presence did not seem threatening, somehow. He thought it felt comfortable, welcoming. Like a familiar face in an unexpected place, or long tales and laughter by a warm fire on a snowy nightor of waking to the smell of baking bread and sweet tea.
Distracted from his pain, he listened carefully. Perhaps this presence was coming to help himto drag him from this nightmare.
"Estel!"
The voice called his own name! Strange, he felt like he had forgotten his identity. He felt he had forgotten everything but that he must hide all things precious to him behind these walls. Only the pain had gotten through. He hesitated. Perhaps this voice that called to him brought more pain.
"Estel, mellonin!"
It did not sound unfriendly. It sounded familiar, just like the presence, and it called him friend. He pondered that, but as he did, a fresh wave of pain struck him. He held onto it because it was the only thing he knew for what it was, and he barely heard the voice call to him again.
"Estel! Im si!" (Estel! I am here!)
Pain tore at him as he heard the words, and suddenly he knew. The presence, his identityhe knewand he cried out to the one who had reached him here in this fortress of his own making.
"LEGOLAS!"
**
Legolas knew his brother was right just as he knew Estel would live. He reached out a hand to his friend, and even as he leaned forward to whisper words of comfort to him, he felt himself pulled, wrenched, propelled deep into a maelstrom.
Fear, anguish, anger, all covered until fairly dripping with pain nearly tore him from himself. He called again to his friend, knowing, somehow, that he could only survive if he could hold onto his purpose with both hands.
"Estel, mellonin!" He called again, hoping to hear some echo of an answer, but the storm of emotion grew fierce as the pain threatened to tear him from his friend. Determination steadied him, for, though he knew naught of healing, he knew this could not be anything but magic. Perhaps Alatar had found a way to torment Estel. Perhaps he was here, somehow. The thought made him ill, and for a moment, he hesitated. If Alatar were here, he might yet find a way to make him kill his friend. No! He had not the time for such thought. He would be no pawn in the Wizard's game. Determination renewed he called to his friend.
"Estel! Im si!" (Estel! I am here!)
As the pain increased, Legolas heard a cry for help. Aragorn's voice called to himthe Ranger's very tone pleading for help. He would not fail.
He stood, steadier now, and walked with careful steps. He knew not what he expected, but when he reached a wall of black stone, he knew that was not it. The pain ripping through his friend's body pummeled Legolas' as well, and it was of a kind he had never felt before. Magic, certainly, for how could his friend's pain otherwise touch him physically?
Reaching the wall, he called out to Estel once more. "Estel!"
"Legolas! Im si! Im si!" (Legolas! I am here! I am here!)
Legolas reached out a hand and touched the wall. Instantly he felt the ferocity of Estel's intent to keep out that which attacked him. Rage, feral and dangerous, and desperation tinged with sorrow and fear had built this wall. How then, could Legolas penetrate it?
He stuck the wall with his fist, but found it unwavering. "Estel. You must come back! You must return to us! Tear down these walls! There is no danger! Your friends and family are here!"
Estel spoke, his voice broken. "I cannot! I have tried, but so fiercely did I build them, they will not be torn down!"
Legolas felt himself reel, and not simply from his friend's words. Pain touched them again, and this time, Estel cried out from it.
Legolas called out comfort to him. "Estel! Im si! Si boe ú-dhannathach!" (Estel. I'm here! You cannot falter now!)
He spoke in elvish, knowing it was the tongue Estel preferred. It gave him comfort, and, in truth, it soothed Legolas as well. He called to his friend to return to him. He pleaded with the Ranger to tear down the walls locked him away from those who loved him.
"Estel! Tolo dan naaaaah" Cut off in mid-word, Legolas found the very breath in his lungs stolen from him. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but could neither inhale nor exhale. His hands flew to his throat, but he could think of nothing to aid him.
He felt cold hands upon his face, and he was drawn away from Estel. He felt his connection severed, and swayed, beset by dizziness at the sudden upheaval. His hands flew then to his face trying to pry away whatever touched him, but he could not. The hands, there, yet not there, would not be moved. A blinding light overwhelmed him, and, for a moment, he thought himself blind. The moment passed and before him he saw only white.
**
Thranduil heard his eldest son's call, and woke shocked to find Legolas so far from him. He had not heard his youngest move, nor felt Legolas' absence from his side. Testament no doubt to the exhaustion of the day. Now, with Aglarelen pleading for aid, he stood and moved towards his sons.
His eyes remained on Legolas. His youngest seemed to strain against some unknown force as tears slipped from beneath his lashes. His teeth were clenched tightly, though whether from physical pain or mental anguish Thranduil could not tell.
He looked to Aglarelen when Elrond asked what had happened and listened to his son's words. He had known Legolas wanted desperately to be near Estel as though physical proximity might anchor the human to Arda, but Thranduil had not allowed it. If he hadno. He would not wander the road of what ifs. That way lies madness.
He looked to Aglarelen, but was stopped short by Legolas' cries. "Estel! Im si! Si boe ú-dhannathach!" (Estel. I'm here! You cannot falter now!)
He saw the question in Aglarelen's eyes, but he did not know what troubled his Greenleaf. Noting that Elrond had deferred to Gandalf, Thranduil waited impatiently for the Istari to determine what had happened.
When Gandalf spoke, his words were not comforting to the Elven King.
"It is not improved. Indeed, it is quite worse. Estel isnot hereyet Legolaslooks for him."
"What does that mean?" Thranduil demanded.
Gandalf sighed heavily the weight of Arda forcing him to lean upon his staff. "I mean that Legolas has gone after him."
"Ever have you spoken in riddles where plainer speech would serve!" Thranduil was deteriorating. Fear for his precious child's life, and irritation at the nonsense words the Wizard spewed robbed him of reason.
Before he could say more, however, Elrond turned to Gandalf. "What are we to do?""
Gandalf opened his mouth to speak, but it was Saruman's voice that dominated the conversation. "What are we to do? What do you expect? We cannot combat an illness if we cannot find the cause nor what is caused!"
Elrond nodded, bristling at the intent of those harsh words. "I can treat the symptoms if nothing else."
"Treat the symptoms? His spirit has fled this life, yet his body clings to it. How would you treat such a thing?" Saruman did not smile, nor was there glee in his voice, but Elrond heard impatience and irritation. Saruman shook his head. "He will not recover."
"I do not ask you to understand. I will not give up."
Thranduil heard the White Wizard's words, and his heart turned to ice in his chest. Gripped by fear and the cold hands of denial and desperation, Thranduil whirled on the White Wizard, the sudden movement combined with the look of near-madness in his eyes, forced even the mighty Istar to take several steps backward.
Thranduil stepped closer to the Istar, invading what space he had established for himself. An emotional elf at the best of times, Thranduil spoke now in an eerie tone, calm, yet holding the promise of rage. "What of Legolas? So sure are you that Estel cannot recover, but what of Legolas?"
Saruman blinked twice before replying. "I will need to examine him."
Annoyed by the remark, which he read as an excuse to delay his diagnosis, Thranduil nodded permission, and watched as the White Wizard lay his hands upon the ashen face of Thranduil's cherished Greenleaf.
To Be Continued
Joee1: And thenthis! Hee! I knowevil cliffie! Ha! What can I say? I can't help it!
Gwyn: Well, he's not cured yet, but I'm hopeful the muse will come up with a cure soon! More Thanduil to come as well!
Templa Otmena: LOL! I don't mind if you babble on for an age! I love your reviews. I'm thrilled that something I've written can inspire such comments and debate! Honestly! Sorry about the Saruman addiction. There's less of him in this chapter, so I hope that helpsof course, there's going to be more of him before this fic is finished! Oh, and all the best lunatic asylums have internet access! I'm glad you liked the 'cloak of safety' thing for Legolas and the bit about the look on his brother's face. I like to put in an occasional hint of previous good times, lest we all think that time on Middle-earth is just crisis after crisis. These are elves after all! I'm sure they know how to have a bit of fun when evil wizards aren't possessing them! As for what Legolas felt lodged at the back of his throat, I meant only to emphasize his humanity as opposed to his elvishness. For a human, when an irritant is removed, the irritation may still remain. Alatar is gone. Unless he's not. (Heh!) No really, he's gone. What? I mean it! I've got Celeborn in the next chapter, but I couldn't quite squeeze him in here. (With this chapter taking a little longer than most, I didn't want to delay the posting.) The Gandalf asking permission to examine Legolas seemed in character. These things just write themselves! Don't apologize for telling me I write Gandalf well! LOL! I should get such apologies every day! I love Gandalf. I will get to Elrohir and Glordfindel soon. I just have to concentrate on the Ranger right now. As for Saruman, I thought it vital to the character that he not be discovered. I don't know why. I've messed with canon here in other instances, but, not to give too much away, I feel it important to leave Saruman as close to undiscovered as possible. There will be more angst and recovery in the next few chapters.
Silvertoekee: Yes! That's it exactly. Aragorn did so well protecting himself that the others can't reach him. I'm glad you like the chapter.
Jadesaber: Thanks! I tend to like to add twists to a story. Keeps me interested! I'll post more soon!
Randomramblings: Thanks! I'm flattered!
Leggylover03: Hee! Sorry! Didn't mean to make you crazy! All questions will be answeredeventually!
Isadora2: Thanks for that advice. I'm a few centuries behind. I carry pen and paper everywhere I go, but I never thought of using Digital Technology! Hee! I'm glad you like the perspectives. It does keep things moving. I'm more than thrilled that you find Saruman in character! I feel like I'm treading a fine line with him, and it is heartening that so many of my readers like him! I'm a fan of Cassia and Sio's fics, and I do remember the passage you refer to here! Good point! I worked in a few scents in this chapterdid you notice? Thanks for your review and for reading!
White Wolf1: Thanks! The friendship between Legolas and Estel, even if it is one largely based in fanon rather than canon, is one of the most compelling things about LOTR fanfic. (I love a lot of the other characters as wellthere is some really good fanfic out there exploring the brotherly relationship between Faramir and Boromir. Check out Henneth-Annun.net for some of the best ones.) Yes, as you can see, Aragorn built those darn walls too well!
Grumpy: I promise I'll get to Elrohir and Glrofindel. One crisis at a time for now! Saruman's "help" is making things worse isn't it? More to come!
Catherinexxix: Thank you! Wow! Long review! Believe me, I'll be patient! LOL! Well, I don't know what Tolkien would say, but I'm having fun! You've described just what I'm trying to dostay true to Tolkien's vision, yet allow the characters to grow. It's a difficult thing, and, of course, it's my interpretation of the characters, so it won't agree with everyone else's view. Celeborn and Galadriel are characters I was, at first, hesitant to tackle. I'm glad they ring true for you! Good point. I suppose Saruman's fall could partially be from that, but alsonot only from the basic misunderstanding, but the unwillingness to understand. At least that's how I see it. Gandalf is, as he says in film and book, Saruman as he was meant to be. Yes, the 'violation' of Aragorn's mind was meant as a violent hint at Saruman's ruthlessness. Gandalf wants to help Aragorn here, but is puzzled, though he is willing to admit he doesn't know everything. Saruman is not willing to do that. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Maybe my chapters will get longer if my reviews do! LOL!
Tychen: Yes, the others have foresight, but Saruman is powerful and sneaky, and they don't expect anything. Saruman's ability to bend someone's will with the sound of his voice is key to all of this. I'm thrilled you're enjoying this! Thanks for reviewing!
Jacklyn: Thanks! I will keep it coming! I'm as hooked as all of you are!
Deana: Sorry this wasn't sooner! More soon!
Sirithiliel: Thanks! More soon!
Estelreader: Wow! Thanks so much! Are you and catherinexxix comparing notes? I adore Tolkien, which is why, I'm sure everyone is here at all! Thank you so much! You've read my interpretation of Saruman just as I meant it. He can't see what others see or feel what they feel. There isn't an empathic bone in his body. He's much enamored of his own superiority. Dysfunctional, you might say, only really powerful at the same time! I do see your point about Sauron and the Ring. I imagine Tolkien was underscoring Sauron with Sarumanjust as Sauron himself is underscoring the true evil of Morgoth. That's true what you said. I've always wondered (whenever people point out to me that there's no proof in the book that Legolas and Aragorn knew each other at all before the Fellowship) if Legolas and Aragorn weren't great friends, why would he deny the sea longing until Aragorn dies? Why put himself through what must be a painful ordeal if not for the great love and friendship of his mortal friend? As for Aragorn, I was afraid that snippet of him was too short to convey anything of importance, but I can see I was worried for nothing. My sole intention there was to establish his strength of will so that this chapter would be believeable. Thanks for your review! I'll keep writing. More soon, I promise!
Elven Kitten: Thanks! I'll try to have the next chapter up quicker.
Cosmic Castaway: (backing away slowly with hands raised) UmI'll just sit here and keep typing, okay? Umcan I lower my hands nowjust as far as the keyboard?