A/N: Sorry! But it's longer than the rest; once I got started I couldn't stop.

Legolas stared at her. "What?"

"There is no blood. You are coughing quite a bit – that could be because you were drowning, but you seemed to have coughed up the water already."

"Lady Caen, I am absolutely sure there is blood. If there wasn't I wouldn't be coughing it up."

"You are not coughing up blood."

"Calls herself a healer – My lady, perhaps you could ask someone else to check." He started coughing – yes, blood! – again.

"That would require a forty minute trek downwards. It would take eighty minutes for the round trip. That is unless you are coming too?"

She actually thinks I'm going to be able to walk for forty minutes? "Well – my lady, I can't."

"Nonsense. You can. Get up."

"I am coughing up – "

"No, you are not! I know what this is now – come, you are not hurt."

I'm coughing up blood and she thinks I'm not hurt? Who is this person anyway? "My lady, I – "

"Come, come!"

"What – "

She pulled him up. He almost immediately collapsed again. She rolled her eyes. "Get up!"

"I can't!"

She pulled him up again, this time dragging him down a tunnel. She's stronger than she looks, he noted. He tried to hop along after her, protesting that he was very seriously wounded and she wasn't much of a healer if she thought differently.

She stopped. "When did I say I was a healer?"

His jaw dropped. "Ten minutes ago, just before you started dragging me down this infernal tunnel!"

"What? I'm not a healer."

"You said you were!"

"I'm not, and I never said that. You are delusional, and I may say that without any lying on my part!"

"You are delusional! You refuse to admit I am wounded, you say you're a healer one minute and you're not the next, and I doubt you can even repeat your name!"

"My name is Keely."

"No! Your name – you don't know your name."

"Yes I do. It is Keely."

"But – "

"Forget what I said earlier."

"Ah – "

"What is my name?"

"Keely."

"Good. Am I a healer?"

"No."

"Right!"

After about five more minutes, Legolas asked, "My lady, I would like to know how much farther it may be to our destination."

"Five more minutes."

His brow furrowed. "But – "

She groaned. "Five more minutes. No more questions!"

"Yes, my lady."

"Good."

-------------

Pippin clung to Merry. "What is this Lorelei thing anyway?" he moaned. "Just some thing with an enchanting voice that we have to kill – we don't have any weapons! We have to kill something and we don't have any weapons! We don't even know what it looks like! For all we know it could be behind the next bend! It could be right next to us! Oh, Merry, we're all going to die."

"First of all, Pip, we're not going to die – I hope. Secondly, Lorelei is female, so we sort of know what she looks like. Thirdly, I'm sure these two warriors here can take care of her for us! So, it's not so bad!"

"But Merry – "

"Pip, it's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine – besides, Frodo and Sam are going to find us!"

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely!"

-------------

Frodo looked over to where Sam was pointing. A shadowy figure was coming out from the earth. He squeaked. "Sam, what is that?"

"I don't know but I don't think it's a very good thing – In fact I think we should be leaving soon. Very soon."

"Too late," whispered Frodo.

"Too – oh."

The shadowy thing was coming toward them very quickly. "Uh oh," gulped Frodo.

The shadowy thing sharpened into a tall, red-haired maiden. "Hello," she said, quite nicely.

"Um, um, oh of course, my lady," Frodo stuttered. "I – we – um – "

She smiled. "May I ask what you may be doing out here so late at night?"

"Well, we were just – taking a walk, you see, mistress," Sam answered.

"Taking a walk? I did not think it was a custom for your kind to take long walks, and certainly not at nighttime."

"Um – well, we just – "

"Why don't you come to my place? It is surely more comfortable than outside here. It is an uncommonly cold night for midsummer."

"No thank you, mistress, really, we don't – " replied Sam.

Frodo interrupted him. "We would like to very much – by the way, what is your name?"

"My name is Caen."

-------------

"Stupid elf," muttered Keely as she dragged him along. "Why didn't he die? Everyone dies from the Lorelei."

She had found him being washed along by the stream, unconscious and dripping blood, with broken ribs and various other injuries.

Reaching a certain section of stone wall, she gave a long, low whistle. The wall slid open slowly, and she stepped into a huge, airy cavern.

Calling for help, she took the elf inside a longhouse and lay him on a cot.

A young boy came running into the longhouse. "Keely! You're back!" Reaching the cot, he peered at the elf. "Who is he? Where did you find him? Is he dead? Did you – "

"Colin!" scolded a woman emerging from the back of the house. "Don't disturb her with your incessant questioning. Keely, who is that?"

"An elf I found by the stream, Mistress Briana," she replied. "I believe he was under the influence of Lorelei."

"Ah." She frowned. "How did he get there?"

"I do not know, mistress."

"Hmm. Colin?"

"Yes, Mistress Briana?"

"Go get Cian, Conan, and Keitha. Oh, get Elvin, too. Keely, get aoife, dympna, and noreen."

"Yes, Mistress Briana," replied Keely and Colin in unison. Colin ran back out of the longhouse and Keely started rooting around in the herb cupboards.

She found the herbs about the same time Colin came bursting back into the longhouse with four other people; three men and one woman. "Lorelei victim?" asked the lone lady. She had dark red hair and brown eyes, and was wearing a tunic and breeches instead of the coarse dresses most women wore. A short bow was slung over her back along with a quiver of arrows, and a sword was girt at her side.

"Aye, Keitha," Briana replied. "At least we believe so."

"If he is, then Lorelei is stronger than ever," said a tall, black-haired man. "Elves do not succumb easily."

Keitha snorted. "We know you believe elves are gods, Elvin, but the rest of us know that they are not. And what of the other elves?"

"What of them? They do not succumb easily either – they hate Lorelei. Besides, I do not believe they would attack him."

Conan, brown-haired and green-eyed, shook his head. "They may have, Elvin. What say you, Cian?"

Cian, old and stooped, thought for a moment. "True, but acknowledge Elvin as the expert in such things we must," he said. "A likely chance of them attacking him there is not."

Conan nodded. "And what of the chances of Lorelei? Would she have been likely to have enchanted him?"

Keitha replied, "How else would he have been found, broken and bloody, near the stream?"

Keely interrupted them a politely as possible. "Lords, Lady, speaking of broken and bloody, would you allow me to tend to him?"

"Of course, sorry are we," apologized Cian. The four backed away.

Keely frowned as she tended to the elf. He had several bruised ribs, two cracked, and three broken, one broken leg, and lots of various cuts. Idiot, she thought. By all rights he should be dead!

-------------

Caen took Frodo and Sam underground. Sam whispered, "Frodo, why – "

"She might be able to help. Don't worry, Sam."

"All right."

She went to a stone wall and gave a low whistle. The wall slid open. Frodo and Sam watched, their eyes wide. She beckoned. "Come on, Halflings," she said. The two hobbits went after her cautiously and emerged in a large cavern.

"Caen!" A yell came from the healing house.

"Colin!" He came running out, grinning. "Keely found an elf and he survived Lorelei and Cian and Conan and Keitha and Elvin are there and – "

"Whoa, whoa, Colin! Say that a bit more slowly."

"Keely found an elf. He was near the stream, and they think he survived Lorelei. Cian and Conan and Keitha and Elvin are there, too. And – " he stopped and stared. "Who are you?" he asked Frodo and Sam.

Sam smiled. "I'm Sam and this is Frodo," he replied. "Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Colin son of all, and she's Caen daughter of Keitha, and – "

"Son of all?"

"Yes! My parents were killed, and everyone's my parents now!"

"Oh – I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why?"

"Well, your parents were killed."

"Oh, I didn't really know them. And they're somewhere better."

Caen interrupted their conversation. "Come, Sam, Frodo, I'll take you to my hut," she said. "You can meet my husband there."

"All right."

Colin bounced. "Can I come too? Please?

"Oh, fine. Come."

Caen's house was near the middle of the cavern, small, but large enough for two people to live comfortably there. It was dark in there, but quite nice. A tall man sat cross-legged on the ground, scratching something on a scrap of some sort of animal skin. When the four came in, he looked up and put the skin down. Rising fluidly, he stood to greet them. "Caen, darling, you're back! And who are these?" he asked.

"I'm Frodo son of Drogo, and this is Samwise son of Hamfast," Frodo replied.

"And I am Baird son of Bowen," replied the man. "Pleased to meet you."

"The same."

Caen smiled. "Baird, what are you writing there? Baird's our loreman," she told the hobbits.

"Oh, nothing, really," Baird replied. "I'm sure our guests wouldn't like to hear it, anyway; it's not very good."

Frodo shook his head. "I for one would like to hear it," he said. "Of course if you don't want to sing you don't have to; I wouldn't dare to intrude."

Baird sighed. "I will, then. It's about the short-elves of the forest."

Sam brightened. "Elves?"

"Elves, yes. Not the nice kind – distant cousins of the ones that live here, and even more distant cousins of the tall-elves."

"Tall-elves?"

"The ones the size of humans. The short-elves are about half the size of a tall hobbit," Baird answered.

"Oh – well, can you sing it?"

"I will – here goes."

He started singing, an eerie, haunting song.

"'Neath the leaves of green wood beeches,

By the forest's farthest reaches,

Hear our song,

Walk along,

The riverside.

There we hide

Our deepest strongholds

Flitting round like fretful shadows,

Wondering, wandering, at your door.

"Long have mortals learned to fear us,

Only those we choose can hear us,

Secret song,

Walk along,

The riverside,

There we hide,

Our captured victims

Fading into fretful shadows,

Doomed to wander, evermore.

"We are dark, fey silent screaming,

We are nightmares, we're sweet dreaming,

See our spell,

Magic well,

Oh, foolish ones,

See the sun,

In deepest madness,

Crying out for long dead loved ones,

Scorned and feared by those they face.

"Feel no pity for the dying,

Laugh at mortals who are crying,

Mocking spell,

Magic well,

Oh, foolish ones,

See the suns,

'Twas once immortal

Many suns see long dead loved ones

In the halls of death's embrace."

Aoife – (okay, okay, it's a name, not an herb) /F/ Life (Celtic/Gaelic)

Baird - /M/ Poet, Minstrel (Celtic/Gaelic)

Briana – /F/ Fortitude and strength (Celtic/Gaelic)

Bowen - /M/ Archer (Celtic/Gaelic)

Cian – /M/ Ancient (Celtic/Gaelic)

Colin – /M/ Young child; peaceful dove (Celtic/Gaelic)

Conan – /M/ Wise (Guess)

Dympna – (name too) /F/ Patron saint of the mentally ill (C/G)

Elvin – /M/ Friend of Elves (C/G)

Keely – /F/ Beautiful (C/G)

Keitha – /F/ Female Warrior (C/G)

Noreen – (this is a name too) /F/ Light (C/G)

TheAmazingTecnocolorRingWraith:Legolas didn't do anything to me. It was his father's father's mother's sister's mail carrier's brother's uncle's – anyway, they're all dead, (except his father, but I torture him more indirectly) so I take it out on him.

Caen? Er – no idea. And just for you – Colin! He asks more questions than you! (I think)