Arwen stood calmly looking into the prisoner's eyes for a couple of moments, what she saw there was hate and a veneer of pride over desperation. The Elven Queen was moved to much pity, but she knew that such a hateful man as Calimehtar would never accept that. She turned to Erestor who remained by her side and had not taken his eyes from Calimehtar.

"Could you have a message taken to Edoras immediately, Erestor?" she whispered in their own tongue.

"I shall the moment we are done here," Erestor answered just as quietly.

Arwen nodded, and sighing she turned back to the two Rangers who securely held Calimehtar. "Please take him to the dungeons," she said resignedly. She had seen that area of Minas Tirith; it was the kind of place an Elf would never willingly step foot. "You may report to Erestor after you have done so," she said, intending to go to the kitchens when they left to have a proper meal sent to the company from Ithilien.

Erestor did not wait for their report but immediately drew up a message to be taken to the King at once. He kept it short and to the point, as was everything Erestor did, but he also wrote the message in a mode of Tengwar that few now knew. It was a mode he had taught Estel years ago, and ever since they had recognized one another's correspondence by its use. The chances of it being understood by anyone who might intercept such a message were extraordinarily low and, for the most part, any who could understand it would be willing to aid in its delivery to the proper person.

Erestor was hastening to the messenger's quarters on the sixth level of the city when he happened to run into Legolas just finishing a little greening of the White City. It has become the Wood Elf's favorite pastime, especially since Gimli had been spending most of his time supervising the rebuilding at Osgiliath. The work in Minas Tirith was largely underway and most of that work no longer needed direction.

Weeks had gone by since the trip to Pelargir, and even with helping to renew Gondor's war-torn capital, Legolas was ready for another journey and so volunteered to take Erestor's message. The two Elves went back to the Citadel where Legolas retrieved minimal travel gear and was half-way across the Pelennor before Erestor had time to blink.

"I remember being that young... a mere 1000 years old," Erestor shook his head with a sigh, and then turned back to Faramir's desk.

"1000 and 20," Arwen said gently from the doorway.

Erestor turned. "You see, that is exactly what i mean... and you, only just 800. Your brothers... 850. All of you children, with all of your energy and enthusiasm," the advisor said.

Arwen smiled. "You sound much as does ada... you rather sound jealous, really."

Erestor shook his head and spoke seriously. "It is not jealousy, pen-neth. I only wish i could be as youthful still. Your father grows weary, and i am a good many millennia older than he."

"It eases my heart to know that adar will have you by his side when he sails," Arwen said, though Erestor had no difficulty seeing that she just felt she needed to tell herself that.

"Aye, pen-neth, it eases my heart as well," Erestor said gently. The advisor was thinking that though he knew he had already stayed in Middle-earth overlong, it would be so extremely difficult to leave if he could not somehow convince Glorfindel to come too. Erestor sincerely hoped that Legolas might find Aragorn et al already en route back home, his bed was starting to seem so empty again.

---

If Aragorn had forced himself to accept sleeping in his pavilion during the funeral march, he was practically chaining himself to his "bed" now. The first few nights he had done so only because he was too tired to complain. By the time they had reached Firien, Aragorn's excuse had changed into wanting to stay near his son and grandson, though Faramir could plainly see that his father had only told him that because he didn't want to admit how much he hated sleeping outdoors in the rain. In truth, though, Aragorn knew he had to break himself of his habit of backing away from symbols of his rank as well as not allowing others to help him.

It rained for what seemed like four solid days from Firien on, slowing their progress. Traveling in such sodden conditions was more than difficult, though the accompanying soldiers did not voice complaint and neither did Glorfindel or Belthil, who had come to be rather good friends. Gandalf, who had turned up the morning they departed Edoras, was none too happy about the rain, though he suffered through it. Aragorn and Faramir were all together much too used to it. Though some considered the Rangers at Ithilien to be much more privileged than those from the North, they both knew that a Ranger's life could be called many things, but never privileged. The ones who were privileged in all of this were the Steward's son and his nurse, who rode all the way in a comfortable, dry coach.

They had just gotten passed the Erelas beacon and it had already been a week. Aragorn and Faramir were frustrated, to say the least, with their pace and the weather. They were both used to the ride between the two capitals taking only a week and being a much lighter journey.

It was the eighth day out, the spring rains had finally given way to a temperate and comfortable afternoon. Faramir, Belthil, and Glorfindel were riding slightly ahead and talking between them while Aragorn and Gandalf held back discussing all manner of issues concerning Middle-earth's future.

Faramir and his nephew noticed that Glorfindel no longer seemed to be following their conversation. The Vanya's head was cocked and his eyes narrowed. Without warning, Glorfindel suddenly spurred Asfaloth ahead into a gallop. Everyone else in the company stopped immediately, most drawing their weapons for fear of an attack, but no one seemed able to figure out what the Elf-lord was playing at... surely he would have warned them if something was amiss?

---

pen-neth little one

adar father

(See, sometimes i do remember to add translations!)

Elenhin: I agree, though Fara' would likely never employ torture, i can't help but think that it wouldn't cross his mind. We shall see. Of course i would not let Calimehtar get away with it. Now you are tempting me though, i want to see a fight between Eomer and Glorfindel. I think that would do away withthe King of Rohan's hasty temper quickly enough :) I guess i am getting back into my routine now. It used to be that i would write in the evenings before going to bed (usually way too late at night), and then review and maybe add a bit the next in the morning before work. Now i've just been sleeping in till about ten after eight. Good thing i am only a five minute walk from work! Faramir the younger is every bit as bright as Fara' the elder. He definitely has a good future ahead of him.

linda: Oh, Arwen is most definitely protected. I may elaborate on that next chapter... or i might not. I don't want to unravel too many other threads right now, things are starting to wind down.

Now, i know i'm probably scaring some of my readers by saying that this one is winding down, but... i already have some other ideas spinning, including but not limited to: Turning this Chaos series into a trilogy, prospectively titled 'Return of Chaos', that would be set a number of years forward; some little one-shots including more stuff about Faramir the younger, about Elboron growing up, etc.;one review got me thinking about a "what-if" spin-off of Chaos Theory that would examine Faramir's life if Aragorn had raised him; and of course, 'Boromir, Captain-General of the Mouse Army of Minas Tirith.' So much to write, so little time.... If anyone has any other plot-bunnies, etc they would like to see me write, do not hesitate to let me know.

To all this i add one final, important note:

GO STEELERS!