Druedain

The coming of the Drúedain to the Drúadan Forest was shrouded in mystery. It was thought that in the first age of the sun, when man first awoke, the strange ones had fled the company of others and secluded themselves there. Sworn to protect their home from all enemies, it was misfortune that first brought the Gaurhoth in their midst. The first had killed many of their number until through knowledge and natural magicks they had learned to calm the beast. For as they had learnt it could not be slain by mortal weapons. The Gaurhoth was most dangerous when the moon was full round. During hunter's moon they were nearly impossible to control. It seemed as though they were driven to infect another, thus preserving their kind. So it had been throughout the long years that passed.

Aragorn snarled and lashed out at the warriors who prodded him backward to the edge of the pit. He was tiring, for morning was near and the change would not last and the hunger he felt had not yet been sated. He yelped as he suddenly dropped. He scrabbled and managed to cling to the sides of the pit by his claws. But the warriors, adept at dealing with wolves beat at his paws till they loosened and he fell to the bottom of the pit with a frightened howl.

Legolas crawled across the earthen floor to get to his blood encrusted dagger. With his fingers curled around its hilt he felt safer. Though he knew if he were attacked then, he would not be the victor. The wound at the back of his head still throbbed and blood trickled down his neck and onto his shoulders, soaking into his hair and tunic. There was a blurred look to everything he saw and he felt the most pressing urge to sleep. He resisted, for his instinct warned against it. All his thought was bent toward the fate of Aragorn.

Rage filled his heart, rage and fear. Day had come, but in the pit all was like the blackest night. He was naked and alone, with no one to hear his cries even if he screamed. His mind was a morass of images and sounds, all flashing by too quickly to be caught and examined. What had he done? Who had he killed? Aragorn crouched against one of the smooth walls absently rubbing the cut on his chest. Legolas had done this, he was sure of it; yet he still lived. It meant that his friend had failed. Did it mean that Legolas was dead?

Despite his best intentions, Legolas lay sprawled on the cave floor in a dead sleep. Still, the warrior who approached him, did so with the caution one afforded a wild and unpredictable animal. He squatted near Legolas' head and touched him tentatively. Getting no response he stroked his hair and then rubbed a few strands between his fingers. He then took an object from his loin cloth used it and returned it to its place of concealment. It would be easy for this warrior to kill the elf, he could cut the base of the neck and the elf would die without ever awakening. But Nôr buri Nôr was no fool. He had been chieftain of the Drúedain for two hundred years and had never seen a Gaurhoth killed so swiftly with such simple weapons. It spoke of the deep magic of the fey creature lying at his feet. Gaurhoths usually died when the men in whom they lived wore out from age and ill use. The last had ravaged the village of Balar in his final throes, regardless of the Drúedain's best efforts. It would be good if there were no more of these evil ones again. The chieftain dragged the things he had carried to this place and left them next to the sleeping elf.

"Please, please, water!" Aragorn shouted brokenly, scraping against the cool earthen sides of the pit with his bleeding fingers. But there was no response as there had been none for the past hours. He sank to the bottom of the well holding his head in his hands and sobbing in despair.

"Ai Valar, what have I done to be so treated," he cried.

His sobs drifted up and out of the pit into the cavern above. They were not unheard, for the chieftain stood at its edge, his heart heavy with sorrow. It always pained him to hear the cries of the weremen as they begged to be set free. For in the times between the change they were indeed just men. But he also knew that to give in to pity was folly, for whenever the moon rose full and round in the sky, the spirit of the Gaurhoth claimed the souls of the men and they became brutal, unthinking, merciless hunters, whose only joy was in slaying. So Nôr buri Nôr took from his waist an object he had secreted there and together with a skin of water threw it into the pit and turned away.

Legolas strode cautiously from tree to tree, stopping often to get his bearings and to look about him. In his hand he held his bow and on his back was strapped his knives and quiver. They had been lying next to him when he had awakened as though they had never been gone. The message was clear; leave the forest, you are not welcome here. Even now he could feel their eyes upon him. At first light he had made his way out of the den, but he had no intention of leaving Aragorn behind. He still believed that the blood of the dúnadan could overcome the curse.

'Why?' he thought stopping as his mind focused on the question.

"Because he was not completely wolf last night," he said softly to himself. "A part of him remains."

The bag hit the bottom of the pit with a sloshing sound. Aragorn reached for it eagerly and put the opening to his lips. Cold clean water poured down his throat and he gulped greedily tipping the bag to make sure he got as much as he could. Something soft rolled down his hand and fell into his lap. He felt for it absently, his thirst momentarily satisfied. His fingers encountered the rough vine with which it was tied together. The rest felt like a long swathe of soft silk. Aragorn brought it to his nose and sniffed experimentally. The scent of blood was overwhelming. It was sharp and sweet. But there was a lesser scent beneath it, dried grass and flowers, pine needles and crushed petals.

"No," whispered Aragorn crushing the swathe of hair in his hands.

"No!" he should loudly into the darkness denying the evidence in his hands.

He screamed Legolas' name in pure agony.

The forest was defeating him. He stopped for the fifth time in as many hours, overwhelmed by the strangeness of the place. The trees murmured among themselves but grew quiet when he approached. Faces appeared at the edge of his vision only to disappear when he looked straight at them. Paths opened before him only to close unexpectedly, causing him to change direction time and time again. Though he did not want it to be true, he felt as though he had been walking in circles for hours. The first time he had tried to climb to the top of the trees to get his bearings, he had kept 'accidentally' slipping off the branches. In frustration he'd abandoned the idea and kept to the forest floor.

"Release me," Legolas commanded sharply, staring up at the towering trees. "Am I your prisoner to be shunted hither and yon at will?"

But the trees only swayed and murmured among themselves, heedless of the elf in their midst.

His anguish and grief were spent. He lay on his side, alternately laughing and crying, muttering in a language of his own making. He clutched the swathe of hair in his hands like a talisman. He would rub its silky smoothness along his face and lips from time to time, as though to validate its existence. His mind refused to embrace the thought that Legolas was dead. Instead it conjured up fleeting memories of a smile, a frown, the lilt of his voice, a sudden laugh; the turn of his head… through it all there was the sweet scent of his blood.

The forest was growing shadowed as the day diminished into evening. Legolas forcibly pushed his way through bramble thorns that stood everywhere to block his path. They ripped at his arms, legs and chest, breaking through the skin to leave a trail of crimson on their leaves.

"Enough," he snarled, snatching away his tattered sleeve from an overzealous patch. He went to his knees in exhaustion, head hung low.

"You shall not have him," he whispered to the shadows that gathered near. "Though I may die, he shall be freed."

The evening lengthened into night. In the pit, the spirit of the beast took hold of the man. There was the painful sound of bones popping to permit the lengthening and twisting of limbs. There were awful screams as fingers swelled and toes split to permit nails as hard as steel to grow long. There was panting and groaning as the man fought and the beast fought back. Then there was silence.

With a mighty leap the Gaurhoth bounded up the side of the pit. He stopped at the edge unsure, anger evident in every line of his body. His mind was a whirl, his thoughts a mismatch of images and smells. He growled deep and low and menacing, but the cavern was empty of life and utterly quiet. There was only one scent and it came from the depths of the pit. He threw his head back and howled long and loud. The need to feed overcame the desire to think.

Legolas watched the evening fade into night; saw the first stars light the sky, heard the night's creatures awaken to begin their business. The trees about him grew silent and then still, as they finally went to sleep. Over the tops of their branches the Hunter's moon rose. Legolas got to his feet, a softly glowing solitary figure in the vastness of the forest. His bow fell from his opened fingers, he unstrapped his quiver and blades and placed them beside it. Then as if in supplication he knelt in that lonely place and turned his face to the sky. The moonlight bathed him in its radiance and glinted off his silver tears. What his thoughts were in that moment were never known.

In the distance there came a chilling howl.

To;

AM…….. No it doesn't affect it much.

Lindahoyland……… that depends entirely on how smart Legolas is!

Ainu Laire………. Do you really think he'll be back?

Mornflower…….. I love your insanity. And he won't kill us all, maybe …

Shanna….Nadie vendrá, pues todavia no. Gracias amiga.

Estel Kid…….. Hey Estel Kid! Ya know I forgot what he's supposed to remember. Hmmmmmmmmm.

Tanya…….. Sorry bout that. It was an oversight on my part. Im si means I'm here

Grumpy…… LOL! Oh dear!

Quickbeam1…..You are too delightful. Thanks for your wonderful review.(More nail biting ahead)