Reviewer Responses to Chapters 6 & 7...
KELSEY: IMPORTANT...PLEASE either leave your e-mail address in a review, or if you feel more comfortable not posting it for all eyes to see, SEND ME an email at kat2032 usa data net . net (just take out the spaces). I have answers to your two latest reviews, concerning technicalities about Elves and the likes, as well as my character Graelath. I CAN NOT post them on the review section or here as it would take up WAY too much space and I would MUCH rather correspond with you through e-mail to answer all your questions. Please get in touch with me or post your e-mail address. I promise I won't spam you!
Deana: Glad you liked the Legolas bath tub scene. That came OUT OF THE BLUE when I wrote it and it was just too good to cut it out!
Gozilla: Again...thanks!
Chapter 8: The Shadow Moves On
Rohan...One week later...
Sitting atop a high hill, the golden hall of Meduseld glimmered in the morning sun. Inside the hall dwelt Eomer, King of Rohan, the land of the horse-lords. He was expecting the arrival of his sister, Eowyn, and her husband, Faramir of Gondor. All that mattered to the king right now was the feast he had planned for a week from now, that was all that had mattered for a good number of days now.
"My Lord?" called his faithful servant, Éothain. "Our guests have arrived; they are riding into the stables as we speak."
Eomer smiled. "Bring them to me as soon as they are able." Leaning back in his throne, he briefly remembered the last time he had seen Eowyn. It had been years now, many years. He had been at the coronation of Aragorn as King of Gondor; there he had watched the light dance in Eowyn's eyes as she stood with Faramir. He was glad for his sister, glad that she had found her love.
"Brother!" came a cry from the entrance to the hall. "It has been too long!" Eowyn, dressed in a light brown riding dress, had hurried past the throne room guards and was quickly approaching.
Eomer smiled broadly. "It is wonderful to see you, sister. I am glad you could make it to my birthday celebration, I have missed you these last two years."
Faramir came to stand beside the two now, greeting the King of Rohan with a low bow. "My Lord."
"Dispense with the 'my lord', dear Faramir. We are brothers, bound by this fair lady!" Eomer extended his arm to his brother-in-law, which Faramir promptly grasped at the forearm.
Eowyn wasted no time in telling her brother of the danger now present in Middle-Earth. "Eomer, the elves of Rivendell and Eryn Lasgalen, formerly Mirkwood, have been attacked by a powerful enemy. We fear that this enemy will come for men next." She studied her brother's face. "Legolas says that he is a powerful wizard, able to throw a shadow spell over all, making them unaware of incoming threat."
To her great surprise and dismay, Eomer laughed. "A great wizard? This world has not had need to fear anyone since the fall of Sauron, I doubt we need to now. Perhaps the elves are just a little hasty in their worries."
Faramir frowned. "No, the elves were all but wiped out, Eomer. Only Legolas and his father, and one elf from Rivendell survived the attack, but all were gravely injured."
Still, oddly, Eomer seemed passive. "Let us not worry about the elves; we must only worry about the feast in a week. You must be tired, go to your old room, Eowyn, rest." He turned and left, leaving a stunned Eowyn and Faramir standing in an empty throne room.
"Did he strike you as not entirely himself?" Faramir suddenly said, turning to face his wife.
She frowned now. "Yes, he did. I think we should send word to Minas Tirith. I feel perhaps this is a glimpse of the shadow Legolas described. It made King Thranduil passive; he was only interested in food, drink and pleasure. I fear Edoras...Rohan...is this Graelath's next target." She finished her comment in low tones, afraid to be overheard.
Faramir thought for a moment. "Surely everyone in Edoras will have been affected by this spell. Since we do not know how to counter it, one of us will have to ride back to Gondor. It is the only way, my love."
Eowyn was about to argue. But inside, she knew this was the only way. Someone had to alert Aragorn and the others that Edoras was besieged, if not with weapons yet, at least by the wizard's spell. "You are right. As much as I hate to leave my brother in this hour of need, I am the faster rider, I will make better time."
Her husband hesitated. Either way, Eowyn would be in danger and he hated that thought. He loved her dearly, but had to remind himself that the woman was stronger then she looked. "Yes, you are right. Ride swiftly, I will try to explain your departure to your brother, but I doubt he will see reason or be satisfied with what I tell him."
Smiling lightly, Eowyn kissed Faramir good bye and ran back toward the stables. Leaping nimbly onto the horse she had rode in on, the woman wasted no time in leaving the city, a cloud of dust kicking up behind her.
Faramir watched as the horse and rider disappeared into the distance. He only hoped she made it back in time, only hoped that those in Gondor would know what to do. Above all, he hoped that he would not fall to the shadow in the meantime, though he was already beginning to feel lethargic.
Minas Tirith... 4 days later...
"Gimli, my dear dwarf, I am certain you can do better then that! Your ax only glanced the target!" Legolas laughed as he pulled the ax out of the far edge of the target and handed it to the approaching dwarf.
Gimli grunted. "You have elf eyes, Legolas, you can SEE the target much better then I. Not to mention that an arrow is far lighter then an ax, takes less strength to throw, or rather shoot, this great distance!"
Leave it to the dwarves and elves to start bickering about fighting prowess. Those assembled knew that this was an ongoing struggle between Legolas and Gimli and they quite enjoyed it.
"He is right, Legolas!" Pippin laughed. "Perhaps you ought to shoot from further away, or with your eyes closed."
The prince thought for a moment. "I believe you are right, Pippin. I will do both. I will stand 50 paces further and shoot with my eyes closed." He took his bow from Sam, who had been holding it while the elf chided Gimli, and walked away, not waiting for a retort from Gimli.
"Yeah right," the dwarf laughed. "That is a tall order, even for an elf!"
Legolas, whose hearing was impeccable, smiled and spoke over his shoulder. "How would you know that Master Dwarf, have you ever seen an elf attempt such a feat?" He continued to walk, knowing that Gimli had never seen such a thing.
"No, well, I am guessing it to be impossible. Who can possibly shoot an arrow into a target at such a distance while blind?" He hadn't really asked the question, he was more so making a point. Legolas did not answer, but stopped at the agreed upon 50 paces.
Merry smiled. "We shall see, shan't we?" He watched eagerly as Legolas notched an arrow, closed his eyes and took a moment to aim. How he was aiming, none of the onlookers could tell. Then, he let the arrow fly and all eyes followed it as it hit the target with a resounding thump.
Right in the center of the bull's-eye.
"No! I'll be an Orc's uncle!" Gimli grumbled. "How in Middle-Earth do you do such things? I swear you must have eyes somewhere I do not see, for I do not SEE how you can do that without SEEING." He seemed truly miffed now, not even making sense in his rants.
Legolas just laughed. "You forget, Master Dwarf, that elves have exceptional senses. I have many more ways then sight to 'see' my target! An advantage in battle, no doubt." The elf smiled now, seeing the look in the dwarf's eyes. "There is no need to feel ashamed, Gimli, if that is the emotion I sense. You are far better then I with such a heavy weapon as an axe."
Gimli perked up at that. "There you are correct, Master Elf. I am better cleaving heads with my ax then even you with your twin knives!" His pride restored, Gimli smiled again. "Come, I am famished, shall we retire for lunch?" His comment was directed at Legolas, but answered by Merry, Pippin and Sam.
"OH yes!" The three replied at once, jumping to their feet.
Gimli and Legolas smiled knowingly.
Aragorn, Frodo and Arwen were sitting down to eat just as the others arrived from the fields. The king greeted his friends, gesturing for them to join them in their meal. There had been no conversation between the three of them when the others had entered the hall, but Gimli and Legolas were in such high spirits that they continued to talk when they sat. The laughter of the elf was welcome to Arwen and Aragorn, who had worried for their friend.
"Legolas, you didn't beat him too soundly did you?" Arwen asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Beat me? He didn't beat me!" The dwarf grunted. "He just happened to be better at long distances, but past experiences have shown I am better in close quarters! So that makes us even!"
Legolas said nothing. Instead, he changed the subject. "We should get down to business. Graelath will waste no time in attacking his next target. We must think of a way to defeat him, to defeat his shadow spell."
Aragorn nodded, having been thinking of this the whole time he sat and ate. The question had been burning in his mind since they had established the spell as the cause of the elves unawareness. "Yes, something your father told me might have bearing. He said that when he was injured, it felt like the spell was pushed away, repelled almost. I don't know what that might mean though."
His wife did. "Perhaps the body is shadowed by the spell, shadowed from everything bad. But when something actually befalls the body itself, injures it, the shadow is broken, at least somewhat lessened."
Legolas caught on to what she was trying to say. "That makes sense. If the spell's purpose is to shadow the people from threat, then perhaps their bodies are shaken from the stupor when physically injured." He sighed then. "But we can't go around wounding every inhabitant in all the cities; it would get us nowhere."
Aragorn nodded. "That is true of course, but it might be helpful knowledge later. Legolas, do you have any knowledge of spells that might counteract this one? Perhaps, something that can shield a city, or even just a person?"
The elf shook his head. "I do not. When I use Elven magic, I do not know what I am doing, it just happens. I can make myself do it, but I know not what I will do. Things come...naturally...I guess you can say." The prince was still hesitant to reveal the fact that there was a voice in his head that told him what to say.
Gimli frowned. "This is getting us no where. Are there no books on spells we can study, something from past ages?"
The king nodded. "There are, but it would take a long time to look through all the books of old."
The dwarf grunted. "We have time, we do not know where Graelath will strike next and until we know we must at least try to figure out what we are going to do. I do not believe researching spells will be an ill use of time."
"Well said," Arwen smiled. "I think Gimli is right. We might learn much from books."
That said, the rest of the reformed Fellowship agreed and they dropped their meals to go to the library. The king of Gondor had many books of all different types, but the largest and most expansive collection was history books, written by wizards, men and elves alike.
The hobbits and Gimli would begin with books in the common tongue, while Arwen, Legolas and Aragorn tackled those in Elvish. It was dry work; many of the tales had nothing to do with magic or the old wizard council. Soon though, Pippin piped up in excitement.
"I have found something. Information on the Ethaim! Those were Graelath's people, weren't they?" The hobbit was jumping up and down, holding open a large, leather-bound book. Aragorn hurried over to him.
"Yes, Pippin, they were." Taking the book from the hobbit, the king began to read the passage aloud.
"The Ethaim, dwelling in the Northern reaches of Fangorn Forest, were an immortal race, best known by the language they spoke. Few who were not of their kind spoke the language, and when the Ethaim were wiped out in the Second Age by a gruesome wolf attack, their language was thought to have died with them. If not for the wizard, Graelath, the ancient spells of the Ethaim would have been killed with them. Graelath, a member of the Great Wizard Council, had been on a mission in Lothlorien when the attack decimated his people, arriving just in time to kill all the wolves and find his family brutally slaughtered."
Aragorn stopped reading. "Pip? We already know all this; it is essentially what Legolas and Arwen already told us." Looking at the hobbit, he sighed. "We have to find something on his powers."
To his surprise, Pippin laughed. "I didn't want to interrupt you, Strider, but if you would just skip a few paragraphs, you would see what you are looking for. Graelath was not the only one of his race to wield this magic."
Tearing his eyes away from the hobbit, the king began to scan the page for the information Pippin promised. He quickly found it and a smile spread across his face. "Yes, you are right. It does talk about the Ethaim magic."
"In ancient times, the Ethaim were numerous and strong. They had at their disposal a kind of magic paralleled by none in Middle-Earth. Speaking a language they called "Etrain", they were capable of controlling the minds of people and animals from afar. The Ethaim could move objects with a thought, or stop the beating of a heart with a chant. There was thought to be no known defense against Ethaim magic, until the birth of a Silvan elf named Cellnen."
"Cellnen, born to a king of the Silvan elves, possessed the ability to bend nature to his will. He could control the elements, the trees, ground and water at a whim. But despite his power, Cellnen could not defeat Ethaim magic, only block it. To do this, he called upon a long-forgotten force of nature known as "Gweluthand" or "air shield". By enveloping himself in this natural shroud, Cellnen could withstand any spell that an Ethaim cast on him."
Aragorn didn't need to read on. "That is it! Legolas, perhaps you are a descendent of this Cellnen. He was a Silvan elf, and you have Silvan blood in you, he possessed this ability to wield magic that controls nature, just as you do. Can you conjure this shroud?"
The elf prince shrugged, intrigued by the passage in the book. "I do not know, Aragorn. I have never heard of this Gweluthand, as it was named." The elf prince thought for a few moments. "I do not think I am a descendant of this elf. I do not recall hearing such a name when my tutors taught me about my family history. If he was from a royal line, it must have been from a realm other than Eryn Lasgalen." He frowned as he studied the book. "Do we know that this information is not false?"
The king of Gondor shook his head. "No, we know nothing of its authenticity, but we have nothing else to go on. If only there were a way to test this idea, to see if you could conjure this shroud and if it would protect you from the spells of Graelath."
Legolas was about to answer when the door to library was thrown open. It smashed into the bookshelf directly behind it, and drew the attention of all those inside. Eowyn came running through the door, her hair tangled from a fast ride, breath coming in short gasps.
"Edoras... the spell. It is shadowing my brother and all in Edoras," the woman gasped, not able to say anymore. She had just ridden four days and had pushed her horse to his limit, nearly killing the poor beast in her haste.
Aragorn was quick to act. "We must gather men and ride to Rohan. If this spell was cast immediately after the attack on Eryn Lasgalen, then I have no doubt that the Orcs and Uruks will be closing in on Edoras as we speak!" He turned to Eowyn. "Where is Faramir?"
The woman's eyes fell. "In Edoras, my Lord."
The king nodded. "Then we best make haste, for I do not wish the fate of Eryn Lasgalen on anyone else in Middle-Earth." Turning to Legolas, he added. "Now we will see if this shroud is real."
Legolas didn't reply, only nodded, glancing at Gimli. The dwarf could see the uncertainty in the elf's eyes. He knew Legolas was probably thinking the same thing he was. How would he conjure something he didn't understand, wasn't even aware existed until moments ago? But his magic was still rather illusive, perhaps it would just happen.
He could only hope when the time came, when they arrived in Edoras, he would be able to shroud the city and save the Rohan.
The Next Day...
Eowyn paced back and forth, anxious to return to Edoras, afraid that her brother and husband were in grave danger. Even though she had not seen what fate had befallen Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell, she knew it had to be terrible to have decimated the Elves. Eowyn knew very little of their kind, but she knew enough to know that they were not easily defeated.
"Eowyn? I know you worry, but you must rest if you are to withstand the journey back to Edoras. We will be riding hard, I would not want you to fall behind, or worse, fall ill and have need to return to Minas Tirith." Arwen appeared suddenly, with no warning, at Eowyn's elbow. A small smile crossed her face and she gently took the woman's arm. "Come, you would do well to have a bite to eat. The men are nearly ready to depart."
It looked like Eowyn would refuse, but her stomach decided for her. She was rather hungry. "All right, milady. I will follow you and eat something." She dragged her eyes away from the city gates where she longed to be headed.
Aragorn, meanwhile, was rather frantically assembling a force to ride to the aid of the Rohan. Legolas and Gimli exchanged glances, knowing that the king was not his usual calm self. The elf decided to intervene.
"Estel, may I have a word in private?" He asked, gently laying his slender hand on Aragorn's arm, startling the man. "I need to discuss preparations with you."
Nodding, Aragorn gave a parting order to the man he had been speaking to and followed the elf prince away from the men. "What is it, Legolas? I have much to do, we need to have a veritable force to ride to Rohan, we can ill afford being unprepared."
"Yes," Legolas answered, tilting back on his heels a little, breaking eye contact with Aragorn. "But, you are not doing things in an organized fashion. You are giving orders randomly, causing a bit of confusion among the men." He looked back down, seeing the rising resentment in his friend's eyes, knowing he had to explain himself quickly before the man's temper flared. "You are worried, I understand that, believe me I am worried too. But we must prepare carefully as you said, and we can not do this with you frantically throwing out orders."
For a moment, Legolas thought Aragorn was going to walk away in anger. But the man did not. He thought for a moment and then hung his head. "You are right, Legolas. I am being a bit hasty with my orders. I will try to think more clearly. We can not afford delays because of my worrying."
A small smile crossed the elf's face and he nodded, laying a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "You are wise; for a man!"
He barely dodged the blow aimed at his back, hurrying to escape Aragorn's reach before the king could exact his revenge on the elf.
Gimli waited until Aragorn had gone back to organizing the soldiers before approaching his elf friend. "Well, how did it go? Did he take well to you chiding his disorganization?" Legolas nodded. "Yes he took it very well. I thought I would have to dodge more then one blow from him because of that one. But he understood he was being a bit frantic, he is indeed a wise leader."
Gimli grunted. "Yes, he is and we would do well to not forget it! I am certain HE will not LET us forget it!" The dwarf, shifting his weight, turned to Legolas now. "Will we ride to war together once more, my friend?"
Looking down at the stout figure beside him, Legolas smiled. "Yes, we will fight side by side once again, mellon nin. And hopefully we will return victorious, side by side, as well."
Graelath's Fortress...
"All goes as planned," Graelath muttered to himself, his Crebain spies having brought news that the Rohan were contained in Edoras, oblivious to his approaching Orc army. "Soon, Rohan will be rid of its human occupants and only Gondor and a few small realms will remain."
He hurried to his tower top, chanted the shadow spell again, further shrouding Edoras under his guise of safety. His Etrain words echoed across the mountains, reaching the ears of one lost creature that was not meant to hear them.
Lowgala, a short, chubby being that looked similar to the Hobbits of the Shire, had been wandering the shadowy, mysterious mountains for many long years now. How he had survived, he himself did not know, but he was no longer the carefree, blonde Noki he used to be.
The Noki, a race that was unknown to most and that had dwelt in the Misty Mountains, had finally had succumbed to the danger of their home. They had been wiped out by vicious attacks of mountain creatures, the unforgiving weather conditions and devastating illnesses.
Lowgala was all that was left, stumbling blindly through the Mountains, trying desperately to get to some refuge where he could find aid.
"What? What is that?" He muttered to himself. Lowgala had taken to talking to himself a long time ago for there were no other creatures in the mountains to communicate with. Hearing words, even in a tongue he did not understand, was unusual to say the least.
So was finding a dark tower blocking what rays of the sun actually penetrated the mists that shrouded the mountains. Who had built this tower? Who dwelt here?
Lowgala had nothing to lose. But then again, it sounded like this tower's inhabitant was casting a spell, which meant he was probably very dangerous and Lowgala did not have a death wish today, he had grown bored of death wishes for the moment, though he was certain they would return someday.
"Maybe I am nearing the end of this forsaken land," the creature mumbled, his once neatly combed hair had withered and died, falling out in large clumps. The gloomy atmosphere and loss of his people had taken its toll on Lowgala. He more resembled the creature Gollum of legend then he did his own people.
Pushing on, stumbling on stones, Lowgala continued in a western direction. At least he thought it was west. He didn't know why he chose west, but he didn't want to go in circles so he continued in that direction.
The chanting had since ceased and Lowgala looked up at the tower wistfully. Too bad he could not stop and chat, he longed for company. Yet something about this place repelled him. It felt wrong.
It felt overpowering.
It felt evil.
