CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Will I be Alone?

Thunder rumbled and Glorfindel shook his head sadly as he watched the sky illuminate with lightning that jetted across the sky in bright streaks. Thunderstorms were nearly unheard of in Rivendell, but not since Estel had left. Elrond's strength to wield Vilya was fading and the ring's powers were taking over as it took advantage of the fact that no one was governing it. The thing that disturbed Glorfindel the worst was that Elrond seemed to be blind to everything around him. Sighing the Gondolin Elf pulled up his hood and looked over Asfaloth at Erestor, reading the grave concern written all over the counselor's contorted face. "His strength is waning," Glorfindel muttered nervously.

"Obviously," Erestor affirmed the statement. He looked above and nearly winced as a loud clap of thunder split the air and pounded in their ears. "If this continues much longer I shall go mad."

"It's a little late for that," Glorfindel commented as he stroked the white horse's silvery mane and ran his hand down the sleek neck. The creature nuzzled him affectionately.

Erestor laughed wryly and said, "You would think so, wouldn't you?" He patted Asfaloth's haunches and spoke quietly, "bring Estel back. I fear for the survival of our home. If the rain continues much longer than the waters shall rise and who knows what shall happen if the River Bruinen is let free."

"I shall do my best, for what it is worth," Glorfindel assured grimly, straightening his saddlebags to rest easier on the animal's back and sides.

"Keep Elrond safe," Erestor said solemnly as his grey eyes connected with Glorfindel's blue ones that had become very pale blue with unrest.

"Indeed," the Gondolin Elf smiled and shook his head. "Though I have to put up with Elladan and Elrohir, so in a way I have an excuse if something goes wrong."

"Glorfindel," Erestor chuckled, "you are a living excuse."

"You wound me-" A low rumble that suddenly pitched to a loud and threatening roar made both of the Elves jump and then turn red with shame.

"Relax. Its only thunder," Elrohir called as he strode in, carrying his saddlebags as Elladan walked slowly behind, obviously lost in thought. Elrohir glanced nervously at the barn walls and out the window. He was quiet for a moment and then said, "I wonder if it is storming like this anywhere else. It is most curious weather for this place. Where's father?"

"He is coming," Elladan said as he set his bags on the floor outside his chestnut stallion's stall. "He is leaving Erestor notes and plans." A raindrop struck the older twin's head as it fell from a crack in the ceiling rafters. He looked up and gave a small frown. "There are times when I think Vilya destroys more than it saves."

"Be careful when you say something like that, Elladan," advised Erestor glumly. "Without it Rivendell would not exist." He shook his head and Glorfindel rolled his eyes as he made sure the straps on Asfaloth's harness were fitted well. Finding they were not he tightened one as he cast a scolding glare at Elladan.

"It is because father is fading, just like mother." For a moment Elladan felt a stab of anger towards Aragorn and his actions before he remembered Aragorn had very little control over war. But he wished he could find something to blame his father's lapse on and it hurt that he could not. He felt a great deal of responsibility had been placed on his shoulders and he also felt he might buckle beneath it. It also burned in his heart, seared his heart actually, to know that the person he admired most was struggling immensely not to fail him and coming close to losing.

"I think he is going to be fine," Glorfindel tried to encourage those around him.

"Glorfindel, it would be better if you would just be quiet!" Elladan snapped. Erestor shot Elladan a disapproving look and then sighed.

"I think I should take my leave. I have things to see to I am sure." He cleared his throat and stepped past Glorfindel and walked past the twins before exiting the stable in what could be called a disquieted and uncomfortable fashion.

Glorfindel leaped up on Asfaloth's back and rode out after the raven-haired counselor. "Erestor! Wait!" he called through the rain. He didn't expect Erestor to actually hold up so the next few moments were a bit of a exceptional surprise that he felt was commendable on Erestor's part.

The dark-haired Elf halted and turned around and watched as Glorfindel rode up alongside of him. "Be careful. The more Vilya's power gets loosed, the more dangerous things could get. We do not know what it will do if it is allowed to have control over itself."

"I know. What do you take me for?" asked the dark-haired adviser with a scowl. Glorfindel clearly thought that he was an idiot. Not that this was anything Erestor didn't know, but it still wore upon his already wearing nerves that Glorfindel treated him like one without thinking twice. Oh, maybe in the back of his mind Glorfindel didn't think he was entirely stupid, but he did an excellent job of keeping it a secret. Erestor was certain it was one of the most carefully guarded secrets of Rivendell, if you disregarded the Elven rings and Narsil.

"I just am saying I don't want you to get killed. Then I would have no one to annoy and tease when I am bored," the Balrog-Slayer complained, but he could not completely erase the worry on his knitted brow.

"Killed? Unlikely," Erestor passed off Glorfindel's warning as mere over kill on the account of his anxiousness. "Elrond would surely come in control of the ring before it claimed Rivendell and destroyed it." He could not truly believe Elrond would allow Rivendell to fall into complete chaos and decay. It just wasn't something he ever had dreamt would happen and not something he had ever thought of even once before. But in the back of his bind there was a slight doubt that his friend and lord could fully control Vilya in his mental state right now.

"One would hope, but Elrond has not yet been tested against Vilya once it has been unleashed," Glorfindel cautioned once more. "I am just telling you to be careful." He sighed heavily and looked at the pummel of his saddle gloomily. Finally he mumbled what was pure and unaltered honesty. "I don't want to lose you, my friend."

Erestor didn't do what was expected. He frowned for a moment and then looked up at Glorfindel and nodded quite seriously, "and I don't want to lose you. Be careful and watch your back, all right? Dol Guldur is growing more bold." A clap of thunder broke through and the rain came down in redoubled drops that soaked the two friends saying farewell in the midst of the storm.

"Now you had better get indoors, Lord Erestor," Glorfindel jested lightly, though it came out more serious than it was meant to. "Wouldn't want to look like a wet mop."

"I am no Elfling. I can stay outdoors if I wish," Erestor protested but a smile was playing on his lips as he spoke. He chuckled and said as he looked beyond Glorfindel to the stable entrance where two cloaked figures were emerging. "It looks as though your wanton subservients are ready to depart."

Glorfindel wrinkled his nose in mock disgust. "They are always ready to depart for somewhere." Erestor only nodded mutely in agreement.

Another figure approached from behind the dark-haired counselor through the mist that was rising through the falling rain. Lightening licked across the dull, cold sky and if one listened closely they could hear a cry of dismay from the Elves as they plead for the stars to return. A sage cloaked figure rode a shadowy grey horse. His shoulders were hunched and he didn't look at all the proud Elf-lord everybody knew he was.

Glorfindel cast Erestor an alarmed and sorrowful look, which was equally returned by the adviser after he spun around to see the Lord of Imladris. Of course chances were that things looked worse than they actually were. But still, Erestor could hardly say that things were going reasonably well either.

"Are we ready?" asked a voice beneath the cloak and Glorfindel looked into a pair of near dead eyes. It made his heart clench but he said nothing of it and merely inclined his head in coherence. The twins trotted their chestnut and roan horses to stand beside their father's stallion.

"We are not-"

"-Glorfindel's obligation." Finished Elrohir for Elladan as he scowled at the counselor, who rolled his eyes and began to head up to the Last Homely House. He wasn't going to get anymore involved than he had.

"Indeed!" Elladan snorted disdainfully. "I think we are old enough to think for ourselves and look out for ourselves as well!"

Erestor continued walking, obviously thinking to protests of the twins hardly worth the effort it would take to quiet them. 'Look out for themselves?' he asked himself with an inward snicker that quickly escalated to a fair amount of roaring laughter as the absurdity of the statement struck him. He shook his head wearily as he heard them calling after him. Climbing the stairs that lead to a balcony he quickly ascended to the top and turned to look out at his departing friends. Four figures riding out of Rivendell through the muck and mud, he frowned quietly.

Lightening lit up the entire sky in its bright purple flare followed by a loud clap of thunder that pounded in his ears. Looking up at the forlorn sky where the stars used to dwell, he felt his heart sigh. All Elves have a deep emotional passion for the stars and sing to them quite frequently. But there was no music in Rivendell anymore, not since the stars had left.

A wind picked up, whipping his dark hair about his face and he watched as some dead leaves were ripped from a tree nearby and danced in the cold air until they settled on the browning grass. He noticed as though for the first time how Rivendell was fading…was dying. Soon, it would be gone. That was unless Elrond came out of his depression. Erestor knew that his lord and friend's deep sorrow was affecting the mood of Vilya and only if Elrond pulled out of his misery would Rivendell recuperate.

That was of course, unless someone else found the strength to wield Vilya. Elladan and Elrohir might, if they knew the full extent of its power and were fully mature. But even then it would take years for them to rebuild Rivendell…years it did not have.

Sighing, Erestor spun around and noticed Helinyetillë standing there, holding her papers and giving him a strange look. "Lord Erestor, are you well?"

"Just a bit overwhelmed, my good Healer," he conceded sorrowfully. "But I shall be fine." He looked into her eyes and then instantly looked at the floor as she scowled.

"Even for all your diplomacy you are a terrible liar." Her voice was slightly hard and she walked leisurely up beside him and pressed her stack of papers into his hands whilst casting him an evil glare. "Whatisthematterwiththem?"

Erestor smiled wryly and then shivered without warning as he felt the nip of the cold for the first time in a long time. "Would you like to go inside and talk about it?" he asked, though in his ears the question sounded entirely stupid and he felt blood rushing to his face. Willing it to remain normally colored, he looked at her decided face.

"Are you cold, Lord Erestor?" she asked as he raised on slender eyebrow and looked him in the eye. Lightning flashed and it reflected in her grey orbs. The counselor thought this to be rather ironic.

"Not really, I just thought it might be good if we both got in out of the rain," he reasoned with her as he attempted to sidestep her all at once.

She stopped him and if anything her scathing glare deepened. "There is an overhang and neither of us are getting wet. Just tell me what you think is the matter." The wind picked up and more dead, brown, crinkling leaves were torn from the trees' branches.

Erestor finally gave in and pulled a paper halfway from the stack and read aloud the title at the top. "Herbal stock." Frowning he pointed out helpfully, "all you have written on here is our supply of Athelas."

Helinyetillë had a ready counter and she whipped her hair behind her shoulders as she spoke. "We only have Athelas at the moment. The plants in Rivendell are withering, save the Athelas and we are having trouble replenishing our diminishing supplies. However, it is 'herbal stock' and I can add to this file later." She frowned and asked bluntly, much to Erestor's humiliation. "Are you telling me all this just for an excuse to talk some more with me?" A loud boom of thunder followed by littler rumbles of discontent echoed in the air before Erestor could find the courage to speak.

"Business is business." Erestor's voice was firm and his gaze hardened.

"And what exactly is your business?" she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes into silver slits of suspicion. Erestor felt slight flushes enter his cheeks but he narrowed his eyes and knitted his brows to compensate.

"None of yours," he retorted heatedly with embarrassment.

"If you wanted to talk with me, you could have simply asked, you know. But it isn't going to change anything," she added crossly as she snatched her papers from his hands rudely. Casting an unpleasantly conspicuous glance at him she asked quickly, "don't you have some papers to shuffle?"

Erestor looked slightly crestfallen and if the feeling like his chest was being ripped apart was a symptom of a broken heart then he definitely had one. He wanted to sigh, but he had more dignity than that. Helinyetillë saw his saddened face and feeling slightly sorry for him she tucked the papers on her arm and her eyes softened. "Erestor, you aren't unkind or over bearing or anything. But you are just not over bearing enough, and there is the problem. You aren't orderly enough for me. I am sorry. But how about us being simply friends?"

"A friend would be nice," Erestor said as he forced a saddened smile. The winds changed and a shower of rain suddenly cascaded in on them both and thunder clapped several times all at once. Erestor just couldn't believe that he wasn't organized enough! Valar he always had his paperwork filed, labeled and disposed of correctly and on time.

"Very well, then. Friend Erestor, I will see you around then, alright?" she said as she turned and walked briskly away. Erestor turned his face to where he had seen Elrond, the twin sand Glorfindel depart. His sharp eyes saw them at a distance and his face became troubled as he realized the full responsibility of what had fallen on his shoulders.

Feeling miserable and very much alone, Erestor didn't go inside as he felt the rain beat against his face. He wished Glorfindel or someone were here. Even the stars were missing. He wanted someone to truly talk to and there was no one here. As he watched the trees, he saw more leaves tear from the swaying branches and he took note to how the streams no longer tinkled music but roared with the voice of destruction as they flooded their banks. Rivendell couldn't last much longer.

O0O0O0O0O0O

Legolas grimaced as he set his foot down for near the hundredth time as he walked in the dark shaft. The air was close and it was nearly cold. His body was trembling as much from fear as from weariness. His torments were quickly catching up and he staggered, nearly dropping Aragorn. He should have known this was a stupid thing to do even if it was the best thing.

The Elf had found that it was increasingly harder for him to breathe as though a great weight was on his chest. His face so pale it was nearly luminescent in the darkness of the tunnel. Sweat dripped from his brow into his eyes and his hair hung in his face, clinging to his sticky skin. His tongue was swollen and it was ironic that though there was water everywhere, there was nothing that he could drink. He did not trust this water and had no intention of drinking it unless he had to. Even if it was safe, which he was highly skeptical of, it was completely disgusting and unappetizing to say the least.

Licking his cracked lips Legolas thought how he was going to strangle Darcíl for this. Oh, he was grateful for getting out, but he was having an extremely hard time keeping himself and Estel alive. He had been down here for hours and he doubted that he had made much progress at all. If he had, he certainly hadn't noticed. It felt as though he was going in circles and all the dark was weighting him down. 'And' he told himself. 'Caves are not this creepy. Not to mention there is always a cursed stone directly in my path and unknown to me until I stumble over it!'

Legolas could feel Aragorn's life returning as the cool air caressed his hot body and the strange peace in the darkness began to heal his tormented mind. He was returning and Legolas felt his own hopes rising bit by bit. But that didn't mean that his wounds were any less painful or less difficult and weakening. He was simply not going to be able to carry on much longer. He had been bleeding far too much.

Stumbling on a rock submerged beneath the icy water, Legolas finally fell to his knees and he was unable to rise. 'There is another stone, how perfectly inconvenient,' he muttered mentally. His strength had simply given out and he tried to hold Aragorn above the frigid water, but his arms trembled and it was impossible. All he could do was keep the ranger's waist and above free from the dirty liquid. "Estel, I am so sorry I…that…this happened to you. I wanted to save you and I have killed you." The Elf let his tears fall upon his friend's chalky face. 'I was a fool to think this might have been an escape.'

He sobbed. It was his fault entirely. Shivering in fear of the dark the Elf plead to the ranger, "please don't leave me, Aragorn. You know I can't stand the dark." His plea had the resemblance of a cry torn from one's throat, for Legolas' dry mouth and dehydrated body prevented him from speaking well.

Legolas didn't know what he was going to do if he saw Darcíl again, but he didn't worry too much about it. He knew that the Haradrim captain had sent them to their deaths and he knew that it had been done knowingly. Darcíl truly didn't care whether they lived or died; he just needed them gone to suit his own purpose. They would die in his cavern. Legolas was sure that if he wasn't blinded by the thick dark then he would have been blinded by a spell of red as he thought of where they had been sent to and for what purpose.

Glancing about himself, though he could see nothing, Legolas sighed wearily and pulled Aragorn closer. He smiled thinly. "Well if I have anything to do about it you shall see your beloved Arwen again. And you shall see Lord Elrond and Dan and Ro. I may not return, but you shall. But you must forgive me, because I need to rest." Legolas plead for his unconscious friend's understanding as he leaned back against the wet and cold stone wall of the passage. He truly was beginning to loathe this duct.

Legolas closed his eyes and tried to pull the memories of his home forward. He missed dear Rothinzil and little Ilwë and Teleprion. He wanted to see his father so much that it was ripping a large hole in his heart that he knew could be fatal. The Elf drew in a labored breath and smiled as he thought of the starlight on the trees of Lorien at a distance. He had longed to go there someday and see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Aragorn had told him such beautiful things about it and he had hoped that one day he and Aragorn would travel there and stay a while, together and explore its fair forests. But he supposed that wouldn't happen now.

He suddenly heard a hoarse voice say, "Legolas?" Jolting awake, the prince looked down at his friend and his throat leaped into his heart as he found it was possible that Aragorn was alive and with him. Suddenly he felt that he might not be so alone. "There is nothing…to forgive. …Rest mellon nin."

But now that Legolas knew that Aragorn was awake he could not rest and he asked in a stammer that would have been indignant but he was far too happy, "how long have you been awake?" He was hardly able to contain his excitement, like a child knowing he has just received the greatest gift he could ever get.

"I come…and go…" Aragorn sighed and shivered. "W-w-w-where…are we?" Legolas pulled Aragorn close, trying to share his body heat with the ranger who he could tell was absolutely miserable and losing his body heat at a rapid rate.

"The good captain Darcíl has helped us to our deaths inside this tunnel that supposedly leads to a safe village," Legolas answered incisively. "I bet there is no safe village," he assumed pessimistically. He really was beginning to build such fond memories of Harad. Perhaps he would return here for a vacation someday and have dinner with Dorrag himself! Yes, that sounded perfectly insane!

"Still so optimistic," teased the ranger around his chattering teeth.

"Well what do you expect, ranger? That I am going to say I love this place, this miserable death we have been sent to?" he hissed darkly as his cynical eyes closed in weariness.

"No." There was a dead silence that followed, broken by the sound of Aragorn's teeth resuming their chattering. "Why is it so wet?"

"The rains have flooded the inside of the duct, obviously," stated the Elf with bitter realism. He looked around and now that he was relaxing he could hear things more clearly. Drip...drip…drip…the water was creeping from the walls, creeping, creeping… dripping…dripping… The minute droplets of water were heavily grating on his nerves. But perhaps he was just turning paranoid. No, he amended, he was being paranoid.

"You really are feeling particularly cynical today, aren't you?" Aragorn mumbled as he tried in vain to smile. But his face hurt and for some odd reason he didn't seem to remember now.

Legolas's frown deepened and he said darkly and rather flatly, "you could say that." Shifting his weight he growled, "and if I could get you warmer I would, so don't you dare complain."

"Legolas, I'm not going to complain. I know you are doing your best-"

"Which is simply not good enough." Legolas wanted to bury his face in his hands and he leaned his head back against the wall in weary despair at their dark situation. Well, dark by all standards if you really thought about it. Now he knew that he was going completely insane…

"Legolas, it is good enough. I am still alive and I know that you had some part in that, don't tell me you didn't. I owe a lot to you," Aragorn said as he searched for his friend's thin and damaged hand beneath the water. He found it, against his battered ribs, supporting him so he was not sinking deep beneath the murky surface. Placing his hand over the Elf's he said reassuringly, "there is an end to every tunnel."

"But not always a light," Legolas continued to be pessimistic and it was beginning to make Aragorn angry. He knew he shouldn't expect too much cheerfulness and hope from the immortal but he didn't think he would be this downright apathetic and sour about things! Legolas had surpassed his own record for stubbornness and dismal brooding once again. Typical.

"Legolas, there is always a light because once the tunnel has reached its end there is an outside world with light and the sun can shine through-"

"Unless outside it is night." Legolas cocked an eyebrow and looked at Aragorn to see if his point was made. Which he quickly came to realize once more than it was dark and in fact, that had not helped at all. If they didn't get out of the this darkness and see a single beam of true light very soon Legolas was certain that he would either go crazy or simply die. Between the two deplorable choices it was a draw.

But Legolas' comment had the desired effect as the ranger realized what the Elf had known all along. The tunnel was not going to be the end, unfortunately. There was going to be trouble to follow as usual. All Aragorn could do was knit his brow and mutter nearly inaudibly " we really put our foot in it this time."

Legolas smiled thinly in wry agreement. "Indeed." He then cast a small frown and said, "but the mire we found is a bit deeper and stronger than usual." He really was becoming quite pessimistic, which was an odd talent to possess (if it could be called a talent). But he really was having extreme difficulties seeing a light at the end of this tunnel or anything that resembled even a distant form of optimism. He was interrupted as he tried to figure whether this trait came from his mother's side or his father's side.

"Legolas, it will all turn out well," Aragorn encouraged as he tried to sit up and found that Legolas not about to allow him to do such a thing. "I can sit up on my own, Elf." He tried without success to shrug Legolas from him but once again Legolas proved to be perfectly adamant and unchangeable. The Elf tightened his grip instinctually as he felt Aragorn squirm in his grip.

"Ranger, you're in no state to be even trying or thinking about such a thing," the prince chided in his mother-henish voice that always made Aragorn chuckle.

"I am not a ranger only. I am a captain. I could have you beaten for lack of respect!" Aragorn teased lightly as Legolas smiled down at him in the dark. He felt the Elf shake slightly with a chuckle that appeared to be genuine.

"Yes, you could do that," mused the Elf in a mocking voice. "However, it is too bad that we are locked in this tunnel and my father would have your head." A drop of water fell from the ceiling and hit Legolas on his nose, causing the blonde being to briskly shake his head in annoyance and surprise. Why did they have to be trapped in this cave like place filled with water? His clothes…what was left of them…were sopping and he actually was beginning to feel chilled. It was disconcerting and he wrinkled his nose in annoyance as much as in confusion. That little tiny spike of immense uneasiness was slowly mounting in his heart and sitting still was gradually becoming a challenge as he felt himself becoming more and more uneasy.

"Your father might ask if he could do the honors," retorted Aragorn with a cheeky grin that he never thought he would be using again. However, Legolas had ways of disproving every assessment he made. Know it all Wood-Elf!

"You are probably right," Legolas admitted dryly before he gave a small chuckle. His voice then dropped to a sorrowful state and he muttered, "he probably has disowned me by now though." The brazen grin fell from the human's face as he heard his friend's words. Normally Legolas saying that he was right about anything would have been an invitation for merciless bantering between the two of them.

Aragorn noted the heartache in Legolas' voice and his back went rigid in alarm. He felt Legolas going taut as he grimaced in pain and distress. Glancing up at his friend though he couldn't see him in the dark, he said, "No. Legolas your father does love you and I bet he is hoping that you will return."

"Human, I was slightly exaggerating on purpose. But all the same, I know he is furious with me," the prince added in a crestfallen tone that ate away at Aragorn's heart. He knew that Legolas' father was all he really had left and that if they were separated forever they would both die. "Ah, well, I suppose I will never find out how things are going back home so I might as well not trouble myself about that."

Aragorn didn't say anything, not quite knowing what words would be best. He was very much afraid of causing more hurt to his friend or planting a false hope in Legolas' sensitive Elven heart. Instead, he just sighed, much to his ribs displeasure and protest. Feeling too weak to stay awake much, longer, he yawned and before he spoke again. "We should be traveling further if we wish to make good time."

"Aragorn, I am carrying you because you are far too weak to walk on your own. I myself am not in the best of conditions. We are going to go at the pace I chose and right now, I am worried for your health…"

"And you are tired," Aragorn broke in, waiting to see Legolas' immediate reaction, which he expected to be furious. But what he heard only increased his anxiety for Legolas' well being. This was the first time Legolas was allowing his weakness to show without regret or hesitation, he was actually being adamant. He was willing admitting he was weakened.

"I am," the Elf agreed glumly. Legolas was about to try and rest when a screeching noise went up, causing both of the friends to nearly jump in alarm. Something swooped by Legolas' face, causing the Elf to lurch his head backwards and hit it slightly against the stone wall before he stopped himself. Wincing at the feeling of the stone's impact, the Elf scolded himself under his breath for being so stupid. Things would be swirling and dancing, Legolas told himself, if he could actually see.

Wings fluttered by his face and some more high-pitched noise rang in the prince's ears. It was a strange squeaking that Legolas had only heard once before, in caves. "Why did it have to be bats?" moaned the Elf in irritation and slight fear. He didn't fear bats but it made this place remind him even more sharply of a cave and he shivered involuntarily as he remembered past experiences in these subterranean grottos. 'Why did it have to be caves?' he moaned to himself mentally.

The leathery winged creatures flapped about his face some more and then swooped by Aragorn 's. Both of them flinched as they felt the wings brush their features. It was a disturbing, creepy sort of feeling and sent cold shivers chasing each other up and down their spines. The hair raised on the back of Legolas' head and Aragorn held the Elf's hand, knowing his fear of dark caves with no way out. The last thing he wanted was for Legolas to go insane now and damage himself and the situation even more.

"Menacing creatures," growled the Elf. But he knew that if there were bats, chances were the door or way out was closer than they had thought. But it could also mean there was another shaft or another opening. Were they alone in the dark? Were there eyes watching them from the darker places of the gloom? If so, were they friendly, or biding their time until they could spring their trap?

TBC…. And would you folks look at that? Another evil cliffie!