So when the world is asleep,
and there seems no hope of her waking
Out of some long, bad dream
that makes her mutter and moan,
suddenly, all men arise
to the noise of fetters breaking,
And every one smiles at his neighbor
and tells him his soul is his own!
Rudyard Kipling

Chapter 8

Defeat the Enemy

The two elves ran, their long, easy strides carrying them onward, having already eaten up many leagues and seeming almost eager to run the leagues yet to come – however many there were. For days now, with a perseverance that only an elf would know and understand, Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Lord Elrond of Imladris, had pursued their quarry. Though they would occasionally stop for a well-earned rest, they always quickly resumed the chase for they were eager to put an end to this macabre game they had been forced to play.

The wolfman knew that he was being hunted and was fleeing, for he did not understand the two that now pursued him for both had faced him with a grim determination that was uncommon for beings who had looked into eyes that could never die. Though he had tasted of elf flesh and had sipped on the sweet life's blood of one of the pursuing elves, the being had neither died nor had he slunk away, quivering in fear at having fallen to one such as he, even if what had occurred was no more than a thought or memory.

The lighting grew dimmer as what usually passed for nightfall approached. The twins had no intention of stopping and though they knew and fully understood that the wolfman would hold the advantage in the darkness, they were elves after all, and would eagerly meet the creature, darkness or not.

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His face showed no emotion whatsoever as he watched both the pursuers and the pursued. Pain and ecstasy were his bread and meat, and it was his great talent for inflicting horrible pain on others then experiencing the ecstasy that followed that had sustained him for longer than anyone could even imagine. He had, so far on this night, been denied his pleasure and was not at all pleased about that fact.

Below where Once-human stood as nothing more than a silent shadow, the wolfman had just entered a thick stand of trees. He straightened and became more alert, for the two males that were pursuing the beast seemed to be unaware that their quarry was no longer running from them but was on a course that would intercept them. This might prove interesting, especially if the two males were to encounter something that would hinder them even more and would distract them and turn their attention in another direction.

He looked up and immediately the clouds darkened, the sky was split by great bolts of lightning and peals of thunder shook the landscape around them, offending the sensitive hearing of the elves and wolfman alike. The twins were effectively blinded and deafened by this new hindrance and gave up the advantage to their quarry. A small half-smile came to Once-human's face.

Elliot!

Once-human's attention was immediately drawn back to his environment and he quickly looked to his left then his right but saw nobody around him. Frowning and thinking that perhaps this bizarre environment was influencing his own perceptions, he decided to ignore what had just happened and so turned his attention back to the wolfman and the two elves.

All three had stopped running. The wolfman sat on his hindquarters, his nose pointed to the sky as he tried to determine why the strange storm had not yet broken upon him and his pursuers. Elladan and Elrohir kept part of their attention on their immediate surroundings and part of their attention on the weather as they too tried to determine whether the storm was serious about happening or not. The brothers looked at each other then after shaking their heads, continued the hunt. Soundlessly, and easily, they ran and unknown to them, they were quickly closing with the wolfman.

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Once-human again looked upwards and this time he managed to loose the sky, having it send torrents of rain down upon the three adversaries. They would meet each other within moments and if he would have yet possessed the ability to feel, he would have almost been excited.

Elliot! What do you fear, Elliot?

Though over the years he had lost the ability to feel warmth or life and was fueled only by emptiness and numbness, he still felt a measure of uneasiness as a voice that belonged to nobody, whispered in his ear, and played his own strange game with him. Again, when he looked around, he saw and sensed nobody and knew that he was alone except for the three beings below the bluff where he stood.

There were other beings that would provide him with better entertainment and though he did not fear the ethereal voice, it was his decision to go someplace the voice was not, and after so deciding, he then turned and disappeared into thin air.

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The wolfman ignored the fact that the rain had stopped just as quickly and as mysteriously as it had begun as he continued to double back on his trail in an attempt to gain the advantage on the two who were pursuing.

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Elladan knelt on one side of the footprints, his hand hovering just a breath above it and as Elrohir kept careful watch for danger, Elladan felt for heat that would tell when the footprint had been placed there as well as any other …

His eyes opened in surprised and he reached up and tapped his twin on the arm. When Elrohir looked at him, he made the hand sign to his brother that told him their quarry was doubling back on his trail and was now coming right at them. The two elves quickly put themselves in concealment, slowed their racing hearts and breathing and dampened their glows – then waited.

It wasn't long until they heard a light snuffling as the beast tested the breeze for scent then slowly slunk into the open. A twig snapping ahead and to his right, brought a gleam to his eyes for that could only mean the two males he sought were close by and were trying to conceal themselves.

Suddenly Elrohir broke out of the stand of trees and took off running. Misfortune struck quickly, however, as he stepped into a small hole in the path and fell, rolling and holding his ankle while grimacing in pain. The wolfman slowed as he approached the injured being who took his dagger from his boot then held it in front to defend himself as he scooted backwards on the ground.

Ever closer the wolfman came, saliva dripping from his mouth in anticipation of the coming feast. Then he felt hands grab his jaw and jerk his head upwards as another hand drug the sharp blade of a dagger underneath and from ear to ear. Soon he could do nothing more than choke soundlessly as his blood flowed from both the wound and his mouth and not long after that his sight dimmed then disappeared altogether.

"It took you long enough, brother." Elrohir said as he nimbly leapt to his feet.

"To use one of my favorite phrases, Elrohir, 'you know how I like to make an entrance.'"

The two laughed quietly as Elladan cleaned his knife off on the wolfman's hide. He then looked at the sky.

"Lament? A little help would be appreciated here."

The two brothers sighed in relief when they once more found themselves in their home, standing at the top of the stairs that lead to their living quarters. Later, the two brothers would remark that neither of them felt remorse as the body of the wolfman disappeared from view as it was taken "home."

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Elrond had taken a leap of faith in the most literal sense of the phrase. He had faith that he was still, in some way, in the basement of his home and that when he leapt off the top of the massive stone wall, that he would again find himself back in the basement. Yes and no. Yes, he was probably still in the basement of his home, but no, the rose bushes he landed in when he finally hit the ground, were not part of his basement.

After extricating himself from the bushes, he looked around. The fortress was gone, but he now found himself on one of the paths in his own gardens.

Interesting. He thought to himself.

He knelt on the ground on one knee as he looked around him at the landscape. He saw his home – or what should have been his home. It was no more than a blackened silhouette sitting a pace off from where he knelt. He could see no light from inside the dwelling, no sign that any life at all existed within the walls of the Last Homely House of Elrond of Imladris.

There was the sound of wings and Elrond caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Without looking like he was turning to look, he twisted his body slightly to one side, making a show of straightening his tunic and he looked deep into the surrounding shadows. Though he did not see the creature, he could feel its presence.

"Ada!" The voice was quiet and full of fear and sadness.

Elrond whirled around fully and saw Aragorn staggering in his direction. Quickly walking to the young man, he put his arm around his shoulder then walked him to a nearby bench. Checking his youngest for injuries, he saw two puncture wounds on his neck that still oozed blood. Aragorn was beginning to tremble as he leaned his much too pale face on his father's strong shoulder. Elrond caressed his head.

"I am so sorry, Estel, for I did not mean for this to happen."

Aragorn gave a small, weak smile.

"I know."

He patted his father's arm.

"I don't want to turn into a creature like him, Ada. Do what you must, but don't let me walk this life doing to others what he has done to me. Please – I am begging you – grant me mercy."

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The anguish was plain to see on the elf Lord's face and it was witnessing that anguish that almost seemed to warm Once-human's body. He leaned a little closer from his place of concealment as he breathed deeply of the elf's fear, concern and memories of love.

Perception is never lost!

He heard the voice just before something shoved him and made him take a startled step forward. He heard a giggle and froze, for the voice that had laughed was familiar to him. Carefully he looked around him but saw no sign of the female and that fact made him frown. How could the female be here … but yet not? Was she able to travel through worlds as easily as he who stepped between worlds like some would step across the threshold of a room?

Go away, Elliot!

Though he was incapable of feeling fear, as such, Once-human decided that one more time he would retreat, for there were others to whom he could give his attention - she could not save them all.

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For a moment, Elrond had felt a familiar presence, and then it had been gone. He kept this knowledge to himself as he sat holding his dying son in his arms. He took a deep breath.

"Estel, you know that I love you, do you not?"

Weakly, Aragorn nodded his head.

"Yes, Ada, I do."

"Then you know that I would do anything to save my son."

Aragorn hesitated a moment, for his father's words were confusing him but after a moment he again nodded. He raised his head and looked at the elf sitting beside him, his eyes widening as he saw the dagger coming at him. There was a fierce, body consuming pain as the dagger was sunk deep into his chest until it finally came to rest in his heart.

"Ada. What have you done?"

One last effort to gain his father's sympathy – one last futile effort – before the thing fell to the ground, writhing in its agony.

Elrond took a few steps backward as the bat creature lost the shape it had assumed and turned back into the man it had one time been. Then with a scream that seemed to come from the throat of a man yet so high as to be almost out of the range of hearing, that was the voice of a bat, it writhed on the ground, wings appearing and disappearing, ears lengthening then shrinking, sharp incisors growing then turning back to what could almost pass as human.

Finally, after a time, the shape settled into that of a man, that glared at him as his hands weakly pulled at the dagger still protruding from his chest. Elrond walked to where the man lay and sat on his heels and smiled.

"I love all my children more than the air that I breathe." He began as he brushed a strand of hair of the thing's forehead. "But love knows love which is apparently a lesson you did not learn the first time we met for once more I touched the vision of my youngest son and saw only a void."

In a sudden move that surprised even the creature, Elrond grasped the hilt of his dagger and shoved it the rest of the way into the creature's chest. After the light of the thing's life had died away and its eyes had closed, Elrond smiled.

"And you are not my son."

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After Gandalf had grabbed the railing of the level he had been on and had jumped over the side into the abyss below, he had no idea what would happen. Being of the race of the Maiar, he had seen things that no other race other than the divine would ever see. But what he had experienced over the course of the past few hours, he was sure that other than his own Lord, Eru Ilúvatar, nobody had ever seen or had knowledge of.

When his feet finally touched what could pass for the ground, he found that he was upside down, just as it appeared everything else in this reality was. He heard the skinny man giggle maniacally and when he turned saw the insane human running up a ramp. The old wizard shook his head, for as he had thought before, he and the human could chase each other for all of eternity and nothing would ever be accomplished.

Then he got an idea. He ran in the opposite direction that the skinny man was running in and when the human turned and looked over his shoulder, he saw Gandalf disappearing into the distance. He frowned.

"What are you up to old man? Well, I have a trick or to of my own that I haven't tried."

He held up his right hand in which he carried his little knives.

"These are just for you!"

As he turned back around, he screamed, for the wizard was standing right behind him. Now give him credit where credit was due. He had not outrun and eluded pursuers and others that had hunted him by freezing in one spot, fainting like a female or standing his ground, especially if that ground had something standing on it that would prove dangerous to him - now being one of those times.

Screaming like a little girl, the skinny man turned to flee – and fell flat on his face. Looking down, he saw that both of his shoes were now tied together.

"This is my world, old man!" He yelled out – to nobody.

The wizard was gone and when he looked back down at his shoes saw that they were no longer attached to each other. Picking himself up, he chased after the fleeing figure at the other end of the long walkway.

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There followed a time for these two, the wizard of Middle-earth and the "wizard" of the shadow world, when they dueled. Bolts of lighting that instantly solidified into long, sharp spears, attacks from around corners, small knives parried by conjured staffs. Though Gandalf had still been unable to come across his own great staff, the one he did produce served its purpose when the grey wizard needed to defend himself. Gandalf was proving himself to be an able warrior.

And yes, there was also the dark humor, for the skinny man had almost seemed childlike in the things that he did. Gandalf felt that at some point in his life, perhaps before he had turned into the wraith that he now was, that he had been fascinated with children and the simple world they lived in. How that had been perverted and just how or why it had turned into the bizarre creature he now fought would be food for thought at another time.

The skinny man had just attempted to come through a wall at Gandalf's side, knives slashing before he was even all the way through. In turn, Gandalf had shoved a large sausage deep into the human's throat and when the man had stopped to try and remove the large object that was blocking his ability to breathe; the grey wizard had placed a hand on either side of the man's head and with a sharp turn had neatly broken the man's neck.

Even as he looked down at the dead man, thinking how tragic his life had been, he suddenly, and once more, found himself inside Lord Elrond's home, standing at the top of the stairs. The doorway shimmered right in front of where he now stood and with a final sound of disgust; Gandalf threw the smallish man through it. It was over.

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Even though Legolas had been knocked unconscious, he had heard Aragorn's warning and had managed to roll his head away from where he sensed the blow was coming from. The hook, meant to penetrate his skull at the temple, just landed a glancing blow. As he tried the clear the dark fog from his mind, he started to hear the sounds of a struggle and when he finally opened his eyes then wiped the blood away so he could see clearly, he saw his friend attempting to drive the dark skinned man backwards.

When the man saw Legolas pushing himself to his knees, he shoved Aragorn away from him and disappeared into the mist that still concealed everything in the bathing room. For the moment he was gone.

Aragorn ran to his wounded friend's side and sat next to him on the floor, this time making sure that both their backs were against the wall – and protected. He gently held his friend's head against his chest as he reached up and checked out the gash that had been torn near his temple. Tearing a strip of cloth off the bottom of his tunic, he folded it then applied a pressure bandage to Legolas' bleeding head wound.

"Is he gone, Estel?"

Aragorn peered into the mist but saw nothing although he still sensed that the man was there.

"Yes, Legolas, for now he is gone." He still held the dazed Prince against his shoulder. "Just rest for a bit and clear your head."

Legolas nodded his head and was silent for a few moments.

"Estel, you do know he isn't going to let us leave this room alive, don't you?"

"I know, Legolas. We have to end this … and soon."

"What is that sound?"

The two listened to what sounded like a loud buzzing that steadily grew louder and when they looked up saw a figure begin to emerge from the mist. He was back – and he was not alone. He held both hands slightly out from his body, at shoulder level and what Aragorn and Legolas had first thought was a deformity of both hook and hand soon proved to be something else – something much worse. Bees … hundreds and hundreds of bees.

The dark skinned man shook his hand and hook slightly then smiled as the insects left their temporary perch and flew to where the elf and human sat against the walls. Aragorn rose to his feet then tried to pull Legolas to his, but the Mirkwood Prince was still groggy from his wound and was too unsteady to stand on his own and when he sank back down to the floor, so did Aragorn.

"Estel … run! There is no reason for both of us to suffer this torment and maybe die from it."

The first bees landed on them and began to sting. They both cried out as more and more of the insects landed on them and began stinging them as well.

"I'm not leaving you, Legolas, so don't even suggest that I do."

He wrapped his arms as much around Legolas as he could, trying desperately to shield him from the bees that were stinging them both to death.

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Once-human stood in the reflection of the mirror, watching the agony of the two friends, a small, grim smile on his face. This was what his existence was for, to be a voyeur of torment, to experience bliss by watching the pain of others. He watched closely as the blonde elf twitched in reaction to the stinging bees then sighed in satisfaction as the dark haired human began to cry. Soon, both were almost entirely covered in the insects, brought from another place for the sole purpose of ending their lives.

Elliot!

Once-human spun around in a circle. He was beginning to lose any patience he might have had for this phenomena, however he knew there was little he could do about something he could neither touch, feel nor see.

You fear what you cannot control, Elliot!

Then something happened that he would never have thought possible. He felt the chill of death pass through his body, something uglier than himself or even uglier and more fearsome than "He" that lived in the heart of his home. The feeling brought back memories to him of other times and other places and his heart, the dark center of his own being, twitched in its own agony. Then the feeling was gone. He knew what it had been that had caused a pain that did not satisfy his lust for torment. It had been the light of goodness. She had walked through him … and in the process had tainted him with her light. With a cry of frustration, he turned and fled.

I think I need a bath!

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There was a pulsing light – one beat of a heart – and the bees were gone. There was something different though, for as the bees faded away to memory, the dark skinned man found himself staring at a wall – a bare wall – the elf and the man were gone.

Then he gasped, for a hand and arm came around his neck from behind while a foot and leg wrapped around one of his. It was a combat hold that was meant to subdue whoever it was applied to and when applied properly, especially by a Ranger from the North, it held its victim immobile. Before the dark skinned man could even think of fighting back, the elf's arm came around his neck, while the other arm grabbed the hook and sank it into deep into the dark skinned man's own body.

His eyes opened in surprise and as the Ranger held him still, the elf levered the hook through his torso until it finally came to rest in the middle of his chest. As his vision dimmed, the arms confining him loosed their hold but before his knees could even touch the ground; his life had fled his body.

Legolas and Aragorn each grabbed an arm and drug the dark skinned man out of the bathing room and down the hall to where they could see the doorway shimmering. They threw his body through the doorway and then sighed with relief as the thing disappeared from sight.

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By the time Súrion had gotten himself out of the bushes Rahan had knocked him into and had turned around, he saw his Captain and the large man locked in combat. Knowing the human's short sword was lethal, Rahan had closed the distance between them and in effect had taken away the man's ability to use the weapon – he had no room to swing the sword when his adversary was up close and getting personal.

Finally, and for the first time since the battle had begun, the human dropped his sword. But though it appeared that the human had a personal relationship going with his weapon, and even though he was now without it, he was still capable of using his size as a weapon. Both elf and human battered each other with fist, elbows, forearms and when one of them was on the ground, with their feet as well.

There was one item that was in the human's favor, however, and which now began to slide the scale of fate in his direction – he was insane and without any emotion other than hate. He took Rahan down to the ground then kicked him viciously several times, causing the big elf to curl in on himself as he tried to escape the painful blows. The Captain knew he wouldn't last much longer … well, maybe.

Súrion was having troubles of his own for every time he tried to go to his Captain's aid, he kept finding himself back in the bushes, a fact that both puzzled him and irritated him. There was someone else influencing what was happening and it wasn't making him happy at all. He watched as the large human grabbed Rahan by the hair and drug him to his knees then held him still while he drove his knee into the elf's head stunning him.

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Of course he had to come to watch, for what would have been the point of providing such a special place for the two to fight in if he hadn't meant to stand in the shadows to watch the blood flow. Frustration and pain – such bliss … then the torment of the one who was finding it impossible to go to his friend's aid. He sighed in ecstasy, for this one event made all the other failures worth while. Once-human looked around himself, half-expecting to feel the cold brush of light and the soft voice that to him was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water being dumped over his head.

It felt odd to him that he should feel concern over someone who was getting pleasure from seeing him jump but after he had satisfied himself that he was alone and had turned back to watch the fight, he suddenly found himself sitting on the ground. He had felt the blow on the back of his knees but had been powerless to catch himself. Once-human immediately regained his feet and spun in a tight circle but again saw that he was alone. His temper, what there was left of it, had just about reached its limit.

Go away, Elliot! Go back to your hole and don't return.

He tried to ignore the presence – the cold, ethereal breeze that chilled his black heart.

Find your enemy.

Something caressed his cold cheek.

Meet your enemy.

He felt a kiss on his temple.

Defeat your enemy.

He felt as an invisible hand brushed itself lightly on what used to be an ear. He spun around angrily.

"You cannot save them all. Even now, the time approaches when my home and yours will occupy the same space at the same time and it will be then that you will be powerless to save those you care about."

He then turned smartly on his heel, faded into the darkness and disappeared.

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Súrion was almost desperate to reach Rahan, who was breathing heavily and almost seemed at the point of collapse. Suddenly, the phenomena that had kept him in the bushes disappeared and he was at last able to rush toward his Captain. He had not yet reached his side when the big man noticed his approach and turned his head in his direction.

"NOW, Rahan!" He yelled as he kept running at the big man and holding his attention.

The weakening elf, laying almost at the big human's feet suddenly came back to life and reaching to his boot, drew the dagger that he always carried there and rammed it with all his strength into the human's groin. It was the first time and probably the last time that the human would ever speak – if that was what you could call it. He roared – a mighty sound that echoed off the surrounding landscape as would have a peal of thunder. Then he slowly sank to his knees and fell forward onto his face.

Súrion extended his hand and helped his battered Captain to his feet.

"It took you long enough!" He chastised the Silvan elf but added a wink to take the sting out of his words.

In turn, Súrion reached out and wiped some dirt off Rahan's cheek.

"I aim to please, my Captain."

With a nod to each other, each elf grabbed an arm of the large human and began to drag him away.

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Greyfell was becoming more and more concerned about Anayah's condition. He knew in his heart that she had used her fëa to do more than bedevil Once-human as she had originally promised, and he could almost swear with certainty that she had found a way to interact with whatever had been going on. Her complexion was almost bone-white and her hair was now matted to her head with sweat. When he saw that she was almost panting as if from exertion, he knew the time had come to call her back. Reaching out with one hand, he gently brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

Anayah gasped then her entire body stiffened. Greyfell rose to his feet, for in truth, he didn't know if she was going to have a seizure or if this was just part of the process she went through when her fëa returned to her body. He let out a sigh of relief when she relaxed and could almost have burst into song when her eyes slowly opened and she looked at him. It was apparent that she was exhausted and as he gently wiped the sweat off her face, he saw a tear make its way down her cheek.

"I am afraid I am too many, Greyfell. I cannot help anymore."

He caressed her head gently.

"Rest, child, for you have done all that you can. I am sure that it will have been enough."

He smiled as her eyes closed and she slipped into a more normal sleep then continued to watch her for a time until he felt his own eyes becoming heavy as the exertion of his day caught up with him. He laid a hand on Anayah's arm so that if she moved or woke he would know it then laid his own head down on his arms and went to sleep.

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There was controlled chaos in Elrond's Hall. The mighty Woodland King, Thranduil, son of Oropher, wielded his sword with all of the strength and skill he was so well known for while at his side, the legendary slayer of balrogs, Glorfindel, took down creature after creature. Saeros and Semoro, the Thurin Tirith, fought with all the strength and skill those of their order were so well known for. Between them, the human called Ethan, having quickly remembered what his friend, Glorfindel had taught him about the use of the sword, brought down his share of the smallish creatures.

Everything suddenly came to a stop and even the house seemed to be holding its breath. Then the ground shook, the lighting disappeared and from afar they could hear the sound of the voices of friends they hadn't seen for hours. When the lighting once more appeared, they found themselves in the same room as everyone else. But they were not alone, for every beast and creature that had been killed through sweat, blood and hard labor was there with them as well – and they were all alive and well.

They all knew without anyone even having to tell them that Lord Elrond's home and the world known as Lament were now fully occupying the same space and that while it did, any one of them could die – for real.

TBC