There is nothing wrong with your television set.
Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission.
If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume.
If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper.
We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical.
We can roll the image, make it flutter.
We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity.
For the next hour sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear.
We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your television set.
You are about to participate in a great adventure.
You are about to experience the awe and mystery
which reaches from the inner mind to...
The Outer Limits.
Chapter 6
The Battle Begins
After the others had left the infirmary, Greyfell pulled up a chair beside Anayah's bed then sat in it. Reaching over, he was just pulling the blanket up a little higher on her shoulders when she opened her eyes and almost scared a millennium off his immortal life. She smiled as the elf sat full back in his chair with one hand clutching his madly beating heart.
"Are you trying to finish what that cursed shadow horde started?"
She reached out with one hand and patted his arms.
"My apologies, my friend, but I must speak with you."
Greyfell sat forward in his chair and gave Anayah his full attention. She frowned as she gathered her thoughts.
"I know that everyone has gone to try and put the creatures back into Lament – or get them to a place where Lament can do it, itself but there is another matter I have been thinking about and a way in which I think I may be able to help."
Greyfell got her a glass of water and she took a drink before continuing with her thoughts.
"No. Absolutely not, Anayah. You are not getting out of that bed to go ..."
"Wait a minute - please." She laid a calming hand on his which he had rested on the bed, close to where her head was laying.
"I don't have to leave this bed to do what I have to."
It took a moment but finally a look of realization came to Greyfell's face.
"You don't mean that you would ... mind walk?"
"That's exactly what I mean, Greyfell. There would be a minimal risk to me and I wouldn't have to leave this room – so-to-speak."
"I would like to know what you mean by minimal risk, young lady."
Anayah played with the hem of her blanket – another fact that led her friend to believe that he wasn't going to like what she was going to say next.
"I would be incorporeal and so could not be injured, but if I get too tired and lose my focus, I could lose my way and wouldn't be able to find my way back to my body."
She saw Greyfell open his mouth to respond and interrupted him.
"That is where you would come in. If you see my complexion take on an unnatural hue or if I begin to breathe oddly – or not at all – you could call me back. If you touch my hand or my arm ... it would divert my attention and I would have no choice but to return."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"And tell me, who would you be going after?"
"Once-human – I am going to mess with his mind." There was a look of grim determination in her eyes. "Maybe he will get the hint and go back to the hole he crawled out of."
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
To say that leaving the infirmary was the beginning of a grand adventure would have been a serious understatement. Elladan caught his twin just as Elrohir tripped on a rock and almost fell face first onto the grass at their feet. After the youngest twin had regained his balance, he looked at Elladan then around them both with amazement.
They stood at the edge of a forest whose tall, stately trees towered above them both. Thick underbrush made seeing into the forest itself difficult though both elves would have wanted to be able to clearly see the area in which they would be hunting.
They both noticed two things immediately. First, the lowest branches of the trees were too far above their heads to grab on to, nor could one brother boost the other up high enough to grab hold of a limb. The second thing they noticed was that although the nearby bushes whipped back and forth as if driven by a serious wind and dirt and other forest debris swirled around them, they could not hear the wind that drove the phenomena. It was almost as if the two of them had suddenly lost their hearing. The subdued lighting of the area could have been mistaken for early evening and cast eerie shadows on the landscape around them and when they looked to the sky, both saw clouds whipping by as if time had sped up – at least for them.
The twins tried to familiarize themselves with their surroundings as they began their hunt and attempted to pick up any trail the shapeshifter might have left. The two wondered how they were expected to find any kind of a trail with the wind whipping bushes into their faces and dirt into their eyes. Afterwards the thought came to them that they should have known that the easiest way to find the creature would have been to sit down in the middle of wherever they were and wait for the thing to come to them. But then, such are the nature of afterthoughts.
Without any warning, the wolfman burst out of the nearby forest and using the advantage of its size and weight, took Elladan to the ground where it sank it teeth into his shoulder and bore down, tearing flesh and crushing bones as it did so. Elladan screamed in shock and pain and though he tried valiantly to push the creature away, he found that he could not, for it had locked it jaws. As the creature bit down even harder, he felt his collarbone break and he screamed for Elrohir, begging his brother to help him.
Elrohir had been momentarily frozen in place when the shapeshifter had burst out of the forest but he quickly found his mobility when he heard his brother scream in fear as well as pain. He raised his sword and was preparing to go to his brother's aid and strike the creature down when he saw that his hand was empty. He then spun in a complete circle as he looked at the ground around him for his missing sword, not understanding how he could not have noticed that he had dropped it. Then he realized that Elladan's sword was gone as well.
Turning to where the wolf was mauling his brother with fang as well as claw, Elrohir grabbed the upper and lower jaws of the creature and attempted to pry its jaws apart and force it to release its victim. With one massive hand, the wolfman reached back and raked his talons down the front of the youngest twin, slicing deeply into his chest and shoulder. It was not a fatal wound, but it was serious enough.
Elrohir fell backwards onto the forest floor, gasping in pain and holding onto his chest as blood poured from between his fingers. His heart was screaming at him that Elladan needed him and after a time, when the fuzziness had cleared from his mind, he began to crawl to where Elladan and the wolfman still fought. He desperately willed his pain-filled body to move forward, and it did move, but not fast enough. Once more the creature moved its hand toward him, slapping him backwards, then grabbing Elladan by one leg, it ran off into the forest. Elrohir uttered a long drawn out cry of frustration then knelt where he was, rocking back and forth and sobbing out his despair. Finally, after a time, he wiped the tears from his eyes and off his cheeks then pulling himself to his feet, began to track the beast that had taken his brother, swearing to all the Valar that he would kill the creature with his bare hands.
For more days than he cared to remember, he tracked the shapeshifter, following not only its tracks but the blood trail his brother was leaving behind as he was drug away. Though it was difficult to determine day from night in a bizarre place where there was not much difference in lighting and where the sun and moon were never seen, he judged that it was the evening of the fourth day when he finally came upon the two he sought.
The creature was sitting perfect still and staring at something off in the distance and didn't hear Elrohir approaching. Picking up the largest rock he could find, the twin silently crept up behind the shapeshifter and after raising the rock over his head, brought it down with all his strength. There was a sickening crunch as the rock hit the wolfman's head then the creature fell forward and lay still and not long after that, the wolf was gone, leaving in its place the body of a man.
Not having the strength to do much else, Elrohir crawled to his brother and lifted his head then cradled it tenderly in his lap. Caressing his brow, he called to Elladan and was relieved when moments later his brother opened his pain filled eyes. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and a pink froth lined his lips as he tried to speak to his beloved twin and even though he leaned over and listened closely, Elrohir could barely make out what he was saying.
"Go back to the others, brother. Please. Just leave me and go before the creature comes back to life and goes after you, for I fear he holds vengeance as close to his heart as do we and he will not soon forget that it was you that took his life."
With tears running freely down his cheeks, Elrohir vehemently shook his head.
"No, Elladan." He choked out. "There is no way that I am leaving you and even if I knew my way home, I wouldn't leave you. You are my brother ... the other half of my spirit and there is no force that can take me from your side – I can't, I won't leave you."
Elladan reached up to his brother's face with a shaking hand and let his fingers slowly trail down his cheeks.
"Elrohir ... I am dying ... but I would never ... rest ... could never rest ... if I knew that you had not saved yourself. Go, my brother, and live in my name." His words trailed off into silence, for he used the last of his energy to speak.
Ever so tenderly, Elrohir leaned over and kissed his twin on the forehead.
"I am not leaving you, Elladan. I will lay myself down beside you and stay with you forever, for I still remember the promise we made to each other long ago."
Elladan's breathing was becoming shallower and Elrohir knew that he did not have much time left.
"We promised each other that when the time came for us to leave Middle-earth that we would go together whether it be to the Halls of Mandos or to Valinor itself. A promise made must be a promise kept."
Elrohir looked down into his twin's face and noticed that he was staring at something to one side of them.
"What do you see, brother?"
"It is gone."
Elrohir looked and saw that indeed, the shapeshifter was no longer laying where he had fallen just a short time before. A thought began niggling at the back of his mind. His head snapped up and he looked closely at the clouds that were floating over their heads at many times the normal speed they should have been traveling. Then he looked at the forest and once more saw the bushes moving this way and that by a strong wind that could not be heard and at the dirt, dead leaves and other debris that stung both skin and eyes. However, it was when he once more looked at the trees of the forest that the little thought playing around in the back of his mind finally burst forth in all its glory – the needles on the pine trees of the forest were black.
After gently laying Elladan's head onto the ground, he jumped to his feet then raising clenched fists over his head he spun around, laughing crazily all the while.
"None of this is real!" He yelled to nobody in particular. "I know what you were trying to do. You were trying to get me to break my bond and leave my brother. Well it didn't work – you failed!"
Then, as if time had been listening and had heard his words, it adjusted itself.
Elrohir stopped his spinning and looked around, noticing that he and his twin were back in the exact spot where they had first encountered the shapeshifter. He looked at the sword he held in his hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it fondly, then turned to Elladan who was still lying on the ground, sword in hand, and looking around him in confusion. Elrohir raised and eyebrow then extended his hand.
"Are you going to lay there for the rest of your immortal life or are you going to get up and join me in a hunt?"
Elladan took his brother's hand and leapt nimbly to his feet, his own eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Aye, brother. I will gladly join you, for we have a wolfman to find." He clapped his brother on the back. "Let's do this thing."
With a nod of agreement to each other and with their twin bond still intact, the two turned and ran into the forest.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
It was not fear that Elrond felt in his chest as he walked quietly down the steps into the basement of his home. There was apprehension, yes, but there was also a driving need to see this thing done and his family safe and secure once more. Holding his sword securely in front of himself, he slowly descended into the darkness, looking all around him at the ceiling, walls and all the shadows these places held.
He saw no rodents anywhere in the basement, neither of the winged type nor of the four legged variety. That was going to change however, for when he stopped down off the bottom step and raised his eyes he saw a dark haired man standing not more than 20 feet away. The man was just standing there, staring the approaching elf Lord, neither speaking nor fleeing, and in turn, Elrond met, and then held the thing's gaze. He suddenly found his mind wandering and wondering if this creature who resembled a human so closely could actually be of the same species as Thuringwethil of his own Middle-earth. His mind drifted more and Elrond found his eyes getting heavier as more time went by.
Elrond had only closed his eyes for a second, then realizing what he had done, shook his head to dispel the fuzziness that had crept in during his moment of inattention. When he was once more alert, he opened his eyes – and gasped, for the creature was gone and before him stood the most beautiful, blonde elf woman he had ever seen.
"Celebrian." He whispered.
She just smiled at her husband for a moment.
"Hello, my love. How have you been?"
For the first time in millennia, he found himself unable to speak as he stood there looking at the vision of loveliness standing before him.
"Celebrian, I ..."
Celebrian hushed her husband by holding up one graceful hand, something he remembered her doing often before she had sailed into the West.
"I don't have much time, husband, before the creature returns and I must take advantage of the moment and speak with you."
She looked around her then gasped, a look of terror on her face and in her eyes and when Elrond looked around him, he saw that he now stood, not in the basement of his own home, but on the top of the stone wall of a mighty fortress. A spell of vertigo hit him and for a moment he swayed, but after the moment had passed, he raised his eyes and looked at the vision that was his own dear wife.
"Elrond, you must leave, for the creature will be returning soon and I could not bear to see him harm either you or Estel."
Elrond felt tears come to his eyes.
"I cannot leave, my love, for I must kill this creature and send it back to its accursed home."
The vision frowned delicately.
"You would not leave, even if it meant your beloved son's life?"
Elrond continued to stare at the figure in front of him, knowing full well that the vision's words were not true and were only meant to bring to life a measure of uncertainty in his heart.
"Though I wish with all my heart that you were indeed my beloved wife standing before me, I know that you are no more than the desire of my heart brought to stand before me by a creature not of this world. You speak pleasant words, but you have neither the gentleness nor the serenity that was so great a part of my wife. You ... are ... not ... real!"
The vision looked at him, no longer smiling.
"You wound me, husband. Look around you. Do you not feel the gentle breeze upon your face as well as the sun warming the chill of the morning air - is what you feel not real to you?"
Though he did feel these things and his senses were somewhat confused by what his eyes told him was real, he knew that where he was and what he was seeing was not. And no matter how much he desired to welcome the new sunrise with his beloved Celebrian by his side, he could not, for the vision before him was not her – she was not real. He raised tear filled eyes to hers and in turn she grinned a lop-sided grin and shrugged her shoulders in an extremely unfeminine fashion. Suddenly something flew over his head, the wind of its passing knocking him to his knees and driving his breath from his body.
When he could again breathe easily, he looked up and saw his worst nightmare had come true for the "thing" standing before him now bore a resemblance to both man and bat although even that was too tidy a term to apply to it. Its convoluted features folded in upon each other, the flat snout of a bat, the eyes of a man, a mouth that was a combination of each species and skin that resembled nothing he had seen before. How cruel was the being's creator that he should have punished the being standing before him by giving it features that belonged neither to one species nor another.
But the horror did not belong to just the creature. Elrond's heart skipped a beat then beat madly, for the winged creature standing before him held Aragorn in its taloned hands.
"Ada, leave ... please ... before he kills me." A tear escaped the young man's eye and traced its way down his cheek. Seeing his father hesitate, he grew more adamant. "If you don't leave me, this thing will take my life while you watch and are powerless to stop him then will leave nothing behind but a shell that holds inside of it an evil older than the stars in the sky. Don't make him do this, Ada. Leave me now for I couldn't bear to see you killed nor have you watch me lose my life."
Though Elrond's love bade him fight to the death for his youngest son, another part of him tried to get him to turn around and leave. Then his logical mind kicked in and he realized that even if it was really Estel, that the creature would kill him, whether he stayed or not. On the other hand, he argued with himself, if the vision of Celebrian hadn't been real then the chances were great that this also was only a vision of his youngest son, sent to get him to turn his back and walk away.
He had let his love for his youngest blind him to the reality of the here and now. He momentarily closed his eyes and sent his fëa outward until it touched the Aragorn vision and when it did, he saw only a void, and realized that he had been lied to again. The reality had been in the perception, in his ability to see the truth that lay beneath what was not real. He smiled at the creature, for it had been unfamiliar with the elven fëa and in its ignorance had, for the moment, been overcome.
Realizing that its attempt to get the elf to leave had twice been unsuccessful, the bat creature released the vision of Aragorn and after it had disappeared, fully unfolded its wings and screamed out its frustration and anger. Then while glaring at the elf in front of it, advanced on him, fully prepared to battle to the death.
But Elrond had not survived over the millennia because he faced danger that he knew he could not defeat. He recognized that the creature before him held the advantage for they were on top of a great stone wall where the bat could use his great wings to his advantage. Elrond knew he didn't stand a chance at a fight where he was now standing and looked over the side of the wall at the ground that lay far below him then back at the "thing" coming at him. Sending his love to his children and praying to the Valar to protect them all, he stepped over the side of the wall and soon disappeared from sight.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Gandalf looked back at the others as they exited the infirmary and mentally wished them well, for his heart told him that this adventure would be a great challenge and would truly test their character and inner strength. Suddenly he noticed that everything had gone quiet and when he turned, now saw that he was the only person in the Common Room, for the others had disappeared.
"Hmm." The small sound and a shake of his head were the only signs that the unusual situation had bothered him at all.
He had already given the room a look and had found it empty, but he was not an Istar Wizard for nothing for his finely trained and developed instincts suddenly tapped him on the shoulder and demanded that he take another look around him. He was doing just that when the light sound of metal on metal caught his attention and looking into the far shadowed corner of the room, he saw the one he had been seeking, the skinny man, casually leaning up against the wall and playing with a handful of knives.
Gandalf stayed where he was for a moment as he tried to think of how to proceed with this being. It would not be a casual encounter, of that he could be certain, for the human standing before him held some power, some type of magic of his own for he had used it many times before when he had hunted down, terrorized then killed his victims.
As he was thinking of these things, he saw a blur of movement, then got a brief glimpse of a hand and arm just before his staff was knocked out of his hands. As the hand was drawn back, there was the briefest of movements, a flick of the wrist, and a small cut appeared on his cheek. Slowly Gandalf reached up and felt the drops of blood oozing from the small cut. He looked at the man who was standing on the far side of the room and who was now garishly smiling at him from his horribly scarred face. Gandalf nodded.
"First blood goes to you." He said quietly.
He barely had time to set his feet before both of the man's hands and arms came at him again, clutching at his robes and trying to get a good grip on the wizard so he could draw him nearer. Twisting his body, the wizard managed to avoid the hands then seizing upon a momentary pause, stepped on both wrists. A look of both shock and pain crossed the man's face and with a sudden jerk, upended Gandalf, whose feet flew up into the air just before he landed flat on his back on the hard floor, where he lay for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
"Not bad for an old man." The human said. "Let's see what else you can do."
The two had been properly matched when Lord Elrond had been "assigning" creatures to everyone, for it was quite apparent that the human had a fair command of magic. Both of the man's hands, still elongated and stretching across a fair part of the room, now turned into clubs which tried their best to beat the wizard into unconsciousness.
Gandalf rolled this way and that as he tried to avoid being beat to death and if he would have had a spare moment, he probably would have laughed at the thought of room sized arms with clubs attached to the ends instead of hands. Such were the tales of an imaginative mind but considering this man came from some place not of their world or time, imagination could not be considered, nor could he be expected to conform to the rules of Middle-earth reality.
There was only one time that Gandalf had been close enough to try and grasp his staff, but the opportunity passed him by as he rolled away in another direction as a club barely missed coming in contact with his head. The man's arms went back to their normal size then began picking up chairs, tables, vases and anything else that was movable and started to throw them. The skinny man's actions were extremely bizarre and Gandalf realized that the human was probably cautious of closing with him and more than likely knew that his greatest danger would come from the wizard's magic.
Then as if he had fallen asleep and awoke in another place, Gandalf saw that his surroundings had changed and he was no longer in the Common Room but in a large, strange looking building. Though there were many levels in the building, Gandalf could see no stairs, ropes or any other device by which any of the other levels could be reached – nor could he even see the ground level floor when he looked over the railing.
"But I am still one of the Istari, with or without my staff." He muttered. "Now let's see what else you can do."
Muttering the words to one of his favorite spells, Gandalf found himself on one of the other levels, not the one he wanted, but another level nonetheless. It was evident that wherever he was at the moment was in some way interfering with his magic. He made a mental note to himself not to underestimate this strange human, especially if his power included changing his surroundings at a whim.
No sooner had that particular thought echoed through his mind than the wall next to where he was standing started to bulge outward in the shape of the skinny man. Then Gandalf, the wisest of the Istari Wizards on Middle-earth, drew back his arm, drove his fist into the emerging face then turned and ran – fast.
When he approached the corner of the wall at the end of the walkway, he came to a stop then cautiously peeked around the corner and saw that the skinny man was nowhere in sight. Ever so slowly Gandalf walked down the runway to the next corner. He sensed that the skinny man was near and although he didn't know at that particular moment just how he was going to subdue him and drag him to Lament's doorway, he did know that learning what he could and could not do was going to be an interesting experience.
As he stood at the corner, carefully listening for any indication that his opponent was about, Gandalf could hear the human breathing lightly just around the corner from where he was standing. It appeared in the case of the skinny man, and Gandalf was hoping it would be the same for the beings the others would be engaging, that they were unfamiliar with the peculiarities of the beings of Middle-earth, and it might be that fact that would be their undoing in the end. To put it in a nutshell, their ignorance would mean their end. Moving with the swiftness of the Maiar, Gandalf stepped around the corner and wrapped his arms around the skinny man's chest.
At any other time and under any other circumstances, the situation might have been humorous and indeed, Gandalf did almost get a chuckle out of it. It may have been somewhat funny, until he reminded himself that funny or not, the struggling being he held in his arms had brutally murdered men, women and many young ones in horrible ways and had enjoyed doing it. The skinny man screamed in fright then suddenly changed into a snake, dropped from the arms of the grey wizard then slithered away. Gandalf watched as the snake, wearing a small version of the skinny man's face, disappeared around the next corner, then raising an eyebrow, he shook his head.
"And here I thought I had seen just about everything."
Gandalf walked along the level's walkway, peering down different hallways and over the side of the railing to the depths below, trying to find where the human had gone. If his surroundings had not changed, if the bizarre building was still a part of the reality he was in, then the probability was high that the skinny man was nearby. He was starting to realize something that was very important as well as pertinent to the present situation – there was great power at work here. But even though the skinny man had power over his environment and over his body, as he had shown, Gandalf realized that he had a more powerful kind of magic, a more powerful "power." His power came from defending a righteous cause, which was the defense of a home and the innocents that lived there.
Here he was, so far above the ground floor that he could barely see it and he was stuck playing tag with an elusive and devious minded murderer. They could chase each other for the rest of their immortal lives and nothing would be accomplished and Gandalf knew that the time had come for him to shake things up a bit. He looked over the side of the railing to the drop-off below.
"What's the worst thing that could happen – I could die?"
With a shake of his head and after taking a deep breath, he grabbed the railing and jumped over the side.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Aragorn and Legolas were creeping down the long hallway on the level that held the family's sleeping quarters. All that the two of them knew for sure about their target was that the man they were looking for was dark skinned and was missing one of his hands. The fact that the man had apparently come back from the dead didn't disturb them as much as the fact that he had become well known for the particularly nasty looking hook that he wore on the stub of his arm.
Using the stealth of both Ranger and elf, the two were soundless in their movements, signaling to each other through the use of hand signs as they crept from room to room looking for their target. They saw no sign of the man at all until they came to the large communal bathing room. The room, which had not been used since the present nightmare had begun, was currently filled with steam, an oddity that prevented the two from seeing into the large room and the danger it may contain. There would be no way that either of them could be sure nobody was in there unless they went inside and looked around.
Aragorn got Legolas' attention and held up three fingers, meaning that on the count of three they would both enter the room. After the count and once the two had stepped inside the room, they paused and did their best to see through the steam into the corners beyond but even with his sharp elvish vision, Legolas couldn't tell for certain if anyone was in there or not.
Keeping the walls at their back, the two quietly crept along the perimeter of the room, swords in their hands, ready for anything. Legolas leaned in close to his friend's ear.
"He's in here – I can sense him."
Aragorn nodded.
They had not gone much further when the two came upon a large mirror and after looking at it closely, Legolas pointed to something that had been traced in the mist covering the glass. The words were neither Tengwar nor Common nor any other language they were familiar with but they both came to the conclusion that it was the same word written five times.
"Now why would someone write this word on this mirror five times?" Aragorn said as he lightly traced the letters with his finger. "I wish I knew what it said for perhaps it is a clue that we could use to subdue this man and take him back to Lament."
Legolas just shrugged his shoulders.
"I have no idea why this should be so, but I do know that we should continue our search and get this done for I much desire to leave this room."
The two turned away from the mirror then froze, for an extremely tall dark skinned man was standing directly behind them. He looked at the two for a moment, and then spoke in a sarcastic tone of voice.
"You traced it – five times – close enough."
Grabbing Aragorn's shoulder with one hand, the man drove the hook that he wore deep into the young man's stomach then jerked it upwards until he finally pulled the thing out at chest level. He had made one serious mistake when he had attacked Aragorn, however, for as he watched the man go to his knees, holding onto his stomach with two hands that were trying to stop the heavy flow of blood, he had taken his eyes off Legolas. The only thing the dark skinned man saw was a flash of movement then a heavy metal planter hit him in the side of the head and knocked him to the ground. He rolled away from the two then quickly disappeared into the concealing mist.
While keeping part of his attention on the room so that they would not be surprised again, Legolas dropped to his knees beside his friend.
"No. No. No." He repeated over and over.
There was an ever widening pool of blood spreading under Aragorn's unconscious body and seeing that, and fearing what he would find, or in this case not find, he place his trembling fingers underneath the jaw and felt for a pulse. He frowned, for the pulse was strong and steady, giving no indication that anything at all had happened. Legolas reached out and dipped his fingers in the pool of blood then brought his fingers to his nose, finding that it was indeed blood. Aragorn moaned then reached out with a searching hand until Legolas took it with his own. Carefully he turned Aragorn over then frowned once more at what he saw – or in this case, didn't see.
There was no wound, no gash running from his stomach to his chest, absolutely nothing that could explain where the blood had even come from. Legolas patted the man's cheeks.
"Estel, open your eyes." There was no response and so Legolas tried once again. "Estel, wake up. You are fine – there is no wound."
Slowly the young man's eyes came open then looked at his friend.
"If there is no wound then what happened?" He asked softly, the look of shock and fear still much too evident in his eyes.
"You fainted."
"Men don't faint." He said sarcastically as he allowed Legolas to help him sit up.
"It was merely a realistic vision, my friend, nothing more."
Aragorn leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment.
"But it felt so real, Legolas. I felt the hook and the pain and the blood pouring out of my body ... I don't understand."
Legolas laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I don't understand it either, Estel. Perhaps Lament is not all the way inside this world yet. Maybe when it is then such an event will be real. All that I can tell you with any certainty is that you are not injured and we must both be as vigilant as we can possibly be."
All of a sudden, Aragorn's grew wide in alarm and all Legolas heard before everything went black were two words.
"Behind you."
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
When Rahan and Súrion suddenly found themselves alone, they were not surprised but when they suddenly found themselves standing on a short wooden bridge that extended part way into a large body of water, they were surprised. Both Guards went to one knee, effectively making themselves into smaller targets, as they quickly assessed their new surroundings. Though they both spoke in the barest of whispers, they were still close enough to be able to hear each other easily.
"He's here, although I cannot see or hear him."
"Aye, Rahan. I think since we can assume he will be actively stalking us, we can rule out that small dwelling in back of us just as we can rule out the area in front of us – unless he is hiding in the water."
Rahan raised an eyebrow at the Silvan Guard who just shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, it was just a thought."
"Keep your head in the game, Lieutenant." He said seriously.
After the two had spent some time observing the area around them, they rose to their feet and walked toward the surrounding timber to begin their active search but had not gotten far when they saw the big man walking purposefully in their direction. His steps were not quiet, nor were they particularly stealthy but one thing both elves could tell with certainty was that the man had murder on his mind.
"Stay out of my way."
With a nod, Súrion stepped back for he might not have agreed with his Captain's decision to engage the human by himself, but he had given an order – and that order he would follow. That did not mean, however, that he couldn't be near in case Rahan needed or called for assistance later.
Rahan ducked as the human swung his short sword and heard the thing whistle over his head missing taking his head off by no more than a few, scant inches. If the blow had landed anywhere on his body, he was positive that it would have killed him instantly. The Captain rose from his crouched position and at the same time and with a yell that focused his energy, he drove a fist into the man's stomach, lifting him off his feet and driving him backwards. The man didn't go to the ground and when Rahan moved forward for another strike the man swung again but this time when Rahan ducked under the sword, the human raised a knee and drove it into the big elf's forehead, driving him back and stunning him.
The fight was brutal, with both large beings punishing each other with vicious blows from elbows, fists and forearms that would have killed smaller and weaker opponents. The two fought all along the edge of the lake, tearing up the ground, both bleeding from numerous wounds given and received. Although the large man was slower now than he had been at the beginning of the fight, he still had not gone to the ground and though that fact puzzled Rahan, it only increased his determination.
Then the large man landed a lucky blow and caught Rahan on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword and knocked him to the ground. Stunned, the elf was slow getting to his feet and taking advantage of the situation, the large man started swinging his sword in large arcs, driving Rahan back along the short bridge, toward the water until finally, after sinking his sword deep into the elf's side, he kicked him off his sword and into the water.
The large man had forgotten something important, however, something that would prove to be his undoing, for as he stood and watched the elf's body sink out of sight beneath the water, he forgot that there had been two elves. He was made painfully aware of his error when Súrion drove his shoulder into the large man's back after which the human, unable to catch his balance, fell face first into the lake – and this time he did not rise.
Without another thought, Súrion dived into the water where he had last seen Rahan and after a quick search, was able to find his Captain and bring him to the surface. After getting him out of the water, he put both hands under his arms and pulled him a little farther up the bank then laid him flat on his back. Súrion's heart skipped a beat when he checked for a pulse and found nothing. Rahan's normally dark complexion was taking on a bluish hue and Súrion knew that he had to get him breathing again, quickly, for his Captain – and friend – had drowned.
While keeping part of his attention on his surroundings, he spent the next few extremely tense minutes breathing for his Captain then compressing his chest to try and restart his heart. Finally, when the big elf started retching up the water he had inhaled as well as swallowed, Súrion quickly turned him onto his side, where he vomited up the last of the lake water then lay panting as Súrion gently rubbed his back.
Finally, he turned Rahan onto his back again, and as the elf lay with closed eyes, trying to catch his breath, Súrion looked at the wound in his side. Though it was deep, it was not life threatening, and after taking a small vial out of a pouch he carried around his waist, the Silvan Guard liberally sprinkled a powder over the wound and within a few short moments it had quit bleeding.
He was just closing the pouch after replacing the vial when one of Rahan's big arms knocked him sideways into some nearby bushes. He was so concerned with quickly extricating himself from the bushes that he missed the fact that a short sword landed where not long before he had been kneeling.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
King Thranduil, Glorfindel, Ethan, Saeros and Semoro had just entered Lord Elrond's Hall when they noticed that the voices of their friends had disappeared and when the group of elves and human looked out into the Common Room, saw nobody around. Where they would normally have been concerned at the sudden disappearance, this time they were not, for so many strange things had been seen and heard this night that nothing surprised them as it probably would not for a very long time – a long time being the sum total of the next few seconds, that is. As the group turned back to the hall, they froze. Coming at them out of the shadows of the Hall poured a large number of the short, thin, faceless creatures. It could now be said with certainty that the Shadow Horde had been found.
TBC