The flu is gone (sort of) and finally, here´s my next chapter. Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed! I wanted to let no review go without reply, so below you´ll find comments on reviews for this story as well as "Stairway to Haven".
A big warm hug to San for editing (and even cooking at the same time, lol)
Now enjoy!
Alina
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Still not mine...
Red Beasts
The red droplets caught the winter-light, burning brightly as they fell. Cast aside by the horse's movements, some travelled far to mar the snow with deadly spots that spoke of death and destruction like tracks left by a red beast that was leaking its ferocity into the world.
Glorfindel barely noticed that his blood mingled with his steed's while both ploughed on in their search for Elrohir. The warrior hardly even felt his injuries, and knowing they were not threatening his life or ability to move, he had mentally cast them aside long ago. There was no use in dwelling on what hurt him more than the deep cuts: The time he had lost receiving them.
He had been so intent on following the distraught younger twin that the fleeing raiders had been nothing but a mere tingling on the back of his mind. Only when he had caught up with three riders he had not even been following had he realized that they considered him their nemesis. The battle had been short and fierce; Glorfindel´s senses frantically stretching beyond the fight to keep track of Elrohir.
It was this lack of attention that had caused his guard to slip enough for the men to draw blood, but the flow of their own had certainly been more deadly. Once his initial surprise had worn off, the Balrog slayer´s angry impatience had come down upon the humans like the wrath of the Valar themselves. None had lived to tell the tale.
Oh, others had escaped. Glorfindel knew that they would have to take council and decide how to react to this threat, but for now Elrohir was foremost on his mind. His blood froze at the thought that this time he might not be able to bring both of Elrond´s sons back home. The possible consequences of such a tragedy formed an iron grip around the elf's heart and he leaned forward, urging his horse to go faster.
Before him, the deep tracks of the human's horse that now bore the younger twin wore on and on, steadily following those of two raiders. As long as there was nothing but flight to read from the tracks, death kept its distance, but the Balrog slayer still felt its threatening presence. The humans would not run forever, and the prospect of their vengeance cast a grey veil over the snow-clad landscape.
Above him, a hoarse croak announced that a raven had taken flight. The blond elf's head tipped back, and as he squinted against the bright light, his gaze following the black creature when it turned away from him, it seemed that the beast took with it much of the apprehension he had felt. As if the shadow of death was tied to the dark wings, it withdrew now, leaving nothing in its wake but glistening snow. Hope flaring up in his heart, Glorfindel found his instincts proven right.
Turning a corner among the trees, the warrior came upon yet another field of battle. Terrible was the sight of the slain horse in its pool of blood, but the elf only had eyes for the two young ones that knelt upon the disturbed ground. Legolas was holding Elrohir by the shoulders, even though it was by no means obvious who was holding whom upright.
Two pairs of eyes turned towards Glorfindel as he approached, and the older elf allowed a wide smile to spread on his fair features.
"Well", he said, slipping of his steaming steed, "it seems that the Valar grant me fortune this day after all, for I went out to find one young fool and now I´m graced with the company of two."
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Had Glorfindel been able to cast his gaze farther into the distance, to a small house in the woods that was now surrounded by humans and horses, he would have seen the grey veil of death once more. It spread from the torches that were held to the thatched roof, it oozed from the expectant grins that graced many a bearded face.
"No!" Bowder called out again, struggling angrily against the men who held him and easing his fight only when he caught the gleam of a sword that had been drawn behind Bethran´s back. "No!" he repeated, breathless now, "The elf is long gone, I told you! If you were not so darn blind you would even find his tracks in the snow!"
"Nonsense", Marhen spat, unable to hide his glee. "We all know that, even had he fled, he would have left no traces as these beasts fly over the ground. The earth rejects being touched by such unnatural creatures."
Ignoring the murmur of approval that greeted these words, Bowder turned towards his home. He had been torn whether to call for the child to come out, but he feared the consequences. He doubted that valiant little Estel would refrain from defending his elven friends against such foolish talk as this, and his friendship to the Firstborn might well trigger violence even against one so young.
Nay, there was no safety to be had out in the open, amongst fools that had fuelled each other into a mindless rage.
When the flames began to lick up the roof, covering it in a red glow, Bethran let out a strangled sob. Turning to his wife, Bowder found that the strong woman's eyes were still filled with defiance rather than tears - and a question that burned more brightly than the wood that used to form their home. If he did not act at once, she would. Before them, the roof suddenly burst into a pool of angry red, flames shooting upwards as if they intended to set afire the sky itself.
"Estel!" Bowder´s voice rang out strong and clear, "Algost a dartho!" (Estel, do not be afraid and stay.)
"He speaks the evil tongue!" Marhen pointed at Bowder triumphantly. "I kept telling you that he´s in league with unearthly forces..."
"Superstitious fool!" Bethran hissed. "Only because your mind twists beauty into madness you must not take our last comfort away. You are burning our home; let my husband give it his last blessing."
The thin old man turned towards the woman, face red in anger. "It is about time you learned your place, bitch, for..."
"No, let them be." Both Bethran and Marhen turned in surprise when the men's leader spoke up once more. He had been standing by, watching the house intently. His sword rested lightly in his hand and his eyes never left the now smothering walls. "Let them cast spells if they wish, but let us watch lest we miss anything they might want to distract us from."
"Pah!" Bethran brushed past both men to stand beside her husband, gently clasping his elbow. Bowder spared a heartbeat to smile at his wife, then he turned towards the house once more.
"Lasto anim, Estel. Garo im pedo!" (Listen to me, Estel. Do as I say.)
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How could one be frozen in the heat? The question formed in the back of Estel´s mind, in the small corner that was not yet struck by panic.
A just question it was, for the more intensely the heat rose around him, the more rigid his muscles grew, as if they tried to turn him into stone so he would be able to withstand the flames. How he wished this would be so; how he wanted to feel himself transform into a statue that could outlast any firestorm.
Yet he could feel sweat forming on his skin; he could hear Beakon´s heartbeat thunder along with his; and he could smell the dog´s fur where he had buried his head in it. No stone could sweat, hear or smell. He was still a little boy and little boys could burn. Even within a dream, he knew it would hurt.
Tears of horrid anticipation slid down his cheeks when he remembered that day last winter when he had tumbled in a race and had slid into the big fireplace in Imladris´ main hall. Even though the open flames had been shielded by a grate, he had managed to tear it down with his weight and got his feet caught in the hungry heat.
Never would he forget how his whole body had erupted into a source of a pain so intense that he had mindlessly lashed out at everything around him, including his horrified elven brothers who had been trying to retrieve him. Small as he was, he had managed to give Elrohir a black eye, a fact that had haunted him for weeks even though the younger twin had assured him Elladan had dealt him worse injuries in the past.
Despite Lord Elrond´s skills the healing process had been filled with pain and frustration and Estel had feared burns ever since. And now there were once again flames reaching out for him...
Lifting his head only a fraction, Estel saw the red glow descend upon him from above. He could not yet see the fire, but he could hear it hiss and cackle above him like a vengeful spirit. Smoke crept through the wooden boards, reaching out for him with ghostly fingers, but a draft had formed within his small refuge, sweeping the offending fumes away whenever they dared descend upon him. Yet more came, and more and more and more, like an army that was trying to cross a river, mindless of how many of their number got swept away.
Sobbing, Estel clung to Beakon more tightly and forced at least his eyes to move, darting about in search for escape. All around him he could see wooden poles that had been rammed into the ground, and he began to understand that the whole hut had been erected upon a platform that ran above his head. If he flattened himself against the ground, maybe he would be able to find a way out...
A rumble froze him in his movement once more; a rumble that turned into a roar. The heat suddenly intensified, and the child forgot all planning and instead curled in around the dog with a broken cry. The sounds seemed to draw closer, move in on him like a pack of wolves on a doe - sounds that were drowning him...
"Estel, algost a dartho!" (Estel, do not be afraid and stay.)
The words came down upon him like a cooling shower of gentle rain. They cut through the roar easily, and for a heartbreaking moment Estel believed to hear his elven ada in the sound. He had finally come to save him!
Yet when the voice spoke again, there was no mistaking the sharp edge to it; the slight stumble on the elegant syllables that made Estel think of a young foal struggling with its long legs. His heart sank in fear, but not in despair. Even though it was not Lord Elrond guiding him, there was someone willing to help him. To show him the way.
"Lasto anim, Estel. Garo im pedo!" (Listen to me, Estel. Do as I say.)
The child pulled himself upright at that, nodding into the swirling smoke that was still pulled past him in the current of an increasing breeze.
"Trevedo foeir na rhind." (Go right to the circle.)
Estel glanced into the said direction, hoping to see a ray of fresh light, anything to tell him that this was indeed were safety lay, yet the sickening red glow only illuminated more wooden boards...
It was Beakon who began moving first. The big dog was unable to fully rise to his feet, but he determinedly started to crawl. Horrified of being left behind, Estel´s grip on the fur tightened, and thus he was pulled along before his feet began moving on their own.
Together, boy and beast crossed beneath the roaring demon that began to tear down the house above them. The heat grew more oppressing as wood snapped with sickening crunches, and with it the pull of wind beneath the hut grew scathing. Where it rushed past Estel´s skin it seemed to leave burning streaks behind, and breathing became increasingly difficult.
Move right - how far? Where was a circle? His eyes beginning to water, Estel looked around for anything that might promise salvation. A blurry shape formed before him, like a dark crest rising from the ground, and he blindly made for it. The heat bit down more fiercely the closer he got and he would have turned back had Beakon not pulled him along.
The boy's hands saw more than his eyes now. Estel almost cried out when he suddenly found his fingers grasping stone. Prying his eyes wide open against the biting smoke, Estel made out a circle of stones. Above, there was a hole in the wooden boards.
He could see it through that hole: The red beast that was eating away at what had once been a home. Frozen once again in a smothering grip, Estel stared into the gaping jaws that seemed to be lined with red-hot teeth. Then the image grew dense, forming a single eye that stared straight down at him.
The glare struck a chord of horror in the child's heart that went far beyond fire and flame. Pictures seemed to float across the flaming eye; Images of a dark, looming mountain that was crowned by spitting heat. A dark voice seemed to call out for him, forming words he had never heard before.
Aragorn
Was there a cackle in the voice? Spiteful laughter?
Elessar
This time the word was followed by a gleeful hiss, and Estel´s heart filled with defiance.
Aragorn chwind, Elessar gwann (Aragorn is weak, Elessar is dead)
Not knowing why, a wave of anger even hotter than the fire burst from the child's heart.
"You will not laugh at me, Red Beast!" he ground out, "for this is still my dream!"
As if a spell had been broken, the roar of the fire was suddenly rivalled by another sound - one that was nothing but music to Estel´s heat-flushed ears.
Water, running water. Singing to him. Beckoning him.
Blindly climbing the small wall before him, Estel could feel a rush of cool air grace his cheeks while his back screamed with the talons of heat that scraped it. Blocking out most of the flickering light, he could only tell that there was a dark shaft leading down. Down to where water beckoned.
He knew not how deep the fall would be, but the tingling chill that had driven him to the window even before the riders had circled the hut was back, brushing his hands. Brushing his fingers.
Let go. Let go.
The small voice inside his mind had nothing in common with the snarling beast that blazed above him, hungry for his body and soul.
It was a good voice.
"Beakon, aphado anim!" (Beakon, follow me!)
With the order on his lips, Estel jumped.
TBC
Review responses "Light My Path"
Ashlyns: Thank you! I´m happy I could capture your attention and hope you´ll stay along for the ride :)
Aranna Undomiel: Lol - breathe, breathe! I hope you will not come after me with sharp objects now, I DID get Estel out after all - sort of ... runs off to hide
Leggylover03: Hi, welcome aboard! I hope the update came quickly enough for you :)
Victorious Light: Aww, sorry to shock you so ;-) And don´t forget they didn´t even know that there was a child in the house (or rather, under the house). I´m happy you like the way I write Estel.
Elvingirl3737: Lol! I just adore your reviews! You have a most interesting closet, my friend ;-) I hope you got a nice new minion at Walmart and at least a bucket of water along with it, hehe.
GundamWingFanatic90: Thank you! And yes, the twins certainly can get scary. I believe that elves are powerful creatures, and that gives them tremendous potential to be scary as hell...
Romen: Yes, poor Estel. I sometimes wonder whether I go too tough on him, but then again, he´s not easily scared. One tough kiddo - and he´ll have to go without saviours for a little longer.
Ithilvalon/Beling (lol, this reminds me of "The Artists Formerly Known as Prince...): You are quite right that there is more to Bowder than meets the eye - as is true for many people, good or bad. It certainly came in handy that he spoke Elvish, right? Yes, the wrinkles must have fascinated Estel, having rarely seen any. How did the men miss the trap door? Well, there is more to Bowder than meets the eye... ;-) PS: I like your new name :)
Slayer3: Hi, welcome to you, too! I´m happy you enjoyed the fic so far. I also like Estel/Legolas stories, even though this is the first one I wrote with Estel as a child - the little one sure grows on me, though
Luthien: Hehe, I am trying to write as often as possible, but I do have a "real" job too ;-) How come so many readers complain about cliffhangers looks innocent? Well, as a reader I sure feel the same as you, and I´m trying not to let you suffer too long. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too.
QuinlanRamsey: Thank you! It is fun to handle "new" characters and develop them, but staying true to Tolkien´s really is the biggest challenge. I hope you continue to enjoy :)
Carawen: Yes, it sure is a nightmare I put Estel into - bad me hangs head in shame But then again, the little one sure does not give in. Gotta love him for that. But he still needs to hang in there on his own for a bit longer...
NightShadow131: Oops - they were able to burn down the hut... Erm, well, but at least Estel found a way out. You are right, it would have helped very little had they found Estel, because he is not one to sit and listen when elves are being insulted - this might have gone very, very bad. Prejudices, is there anything worse?
HarryEstel: Nope, not good at all looks stricken And yes, these people DO need a lesson (wink, wink), maybe they´ll learn it at some point?
Red Tigress: Lol, yes, you sure are right, "whumping" is a fun word. And it is scary to be in a burning house, thank goodness this an experience I did not have to live through yet, even though it happened to a friend of mine. And what she do? She stood in her burning living room and called me: "Listen, I cannot come to your party tonight, my house is burning down." And then she hung up. I can tell you, I freaked. That´s what shock can do for you - thankfully she got out unhurt - fires are scary, oh yes...
Review responses "Stairway to Haven"
Mellaithwen: Thank you! I´m so happy you liked it - and thanks for putting in on your favourites. I´m much better now :)
Sarah: Hehe - well, yes, fevers do strange things to your brain. I´m much better now, thank you (even though I tend to write strange stories when I´m completely healthy, too...)
Patty: Thank you - I hope you, like Aragorn, got your much needed rest. Thanks SO much for pointing out the sword mistake -gahh! This had to happen to me, of course, doing re-enactments and all... I went back and changed it, thanks again.
QuinlanRamsey: Thanks for commenting on this one, too! Yes, this story was like glue, it just stuck and would not go away, lol...
Lindahoyland: Thank you:)
Carawen: Yes, the stairs were a tough road but at least at the end there was salvation. Thanks for your review.
White Wolf: Thanks! I´m happy to see you reviewing again! Take your time with Light My Path - I hope you will enjoy it, too. I loved your story - thanks again for writing it. I keep thinking about these creatures. I cannot help wondering whether they might not be good for another tale...
NightShadow131: Aww, thanks. To tell you the truth, when I wrote this I was not sure whether anybody would be able to get this at all, as it was so clear in my mind but so "muddy" to write (must have been the fever). I´m happy you enjoyed!
Romen: Hehe, I hope the update came quickly enough for you - but this little tale had to go first. It would not leave me alone. It threatened me with sharp objects, I swear. This plot bunny must have been rabid...
Harry Estel: Aww, you are sick too? Get well soon ((hugs)) It seems that everybody is ill at the moment sighs But at least that makes all of us sympathise with our poor characters a bit more - lol
grumpy: Thanks - and I´m sure Aragorn is glad, too :-)
Ithil-valon: Hehe, no, he´s not dead, but he sure got close (again). I´m not sure whether they´ll be a prequel to this, but you never know what the muse decides. Thans for your review.
Elvingirl3737: Thank you! I´m so happy you liked it.
Aranna Undomiel: Aww, poor you ((hugs)). Yes, being an elf would come in handy sometimes sighs
THANK YOU ALL!