Well here is chapter eight. Sorry about a post later in the day, but I didn't have access to a computer before now and Tin doesn't have a copy of this chapter. Also, I would like to apologize about the review responses for chapter six. Honestly, we had no time and we are truly sorry and meant to respond to every single one! Really we did! We WILL be responding for the ones form chapter seven though, no worries. Thanks for all the review for chapter seven, btw, they were wonderful! As usual, responses will arrive some time on Wednesday (barring any unforseen circumstances)...so please review! This is one of the most exciting chapters...and with a nice little cliffy too...:)

Ripples

CHAPTER EIGHT

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Not Just Fair Weather Friends

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Legolas was beginning to feel sore. Not from his bonds so much anymore but because after being soaked by the rain and riding on a horse for hours that seemed to last ages at a time, your muscles began to complain. He was miserable right now and that was putting things nicely. Lostiâ and actually all of the Elves holding him captive had not spoken a word to him since the threat, but he wasn't grumbling about it and was actually quite grateful.

To keep himself occupied, Legolas had been trying to determine where their destination was, but the rain and darkness was making it difficult and things had changed since he had been in this neck of the woods. All he knew was that it was bordering upon the Emyn Duir and that it was relatively close to where he had accidentally shot Rána. The spot where they had found Voronwë was slightly more North.

Unfortunately this meant they were entering into reasonably evil territory and still traveling South towards Dol Guldur, thought he doubted they would go that far because all Elves, even the insane ones, feared the Dark One. The glow of the traveling Elves had long ago begun to be suffocated by the dense darkness wrapped around the incredibly thick forest of fir trees. Shrouded in these dense and dark fir trees many evil creatures, especially wargs and spiders, dwelled, being hidden and aided by the blackness.

Now that they had fully entered into the land of the fir trees the rain was not stopped by any forest canopy and everyone was feeling the effects of a severely heavy down pour. In the dark, Legolas could see the outlines and silhouettes of spiders, sitting on the ground unused to the drenching wetness and unable to stick very well to their webs. It was usually the larger spiders that were forced to the ground that had trouble staying in the trees as it was because of their heavy bulk from being the horrible gluttons that they were. There were a few little ones on the ground that had been washed out from the trees and were being chased here and there by the bigger spiders as the brood's more dominant ones asserted their cruel authority.

Shuddering, Legolas did his best not to let his bored and weary mind allow his eyes to observe them. He couldn't help but be a bit alarmed because they hadn't seen rain like this in quite some time and the last memories of it were not good ones. It had taken a lot of limbs down from the trees and flooded a good portion of the lower forest not to mention his father's wine cellars. Trade with Lake Town was not heard of for weeks until the mess was cleaned up and things began to get back on schedule, which didn't necessarily matter because the Lake Men had been experiencing close to the same difficulties.

Though he didn't recognize where they were now by sight, he was beginning to hear the moaning and sorrow of the trees. Having the talent of his people to talk to trees or at least know their feelings he sensed much sadness in the drooped boughs.

There had once been a horrific slaughter here and many Elves had died. The trees remembered the blood spilled because it had seeped into their roots and they had been forced to drink it and it flowed in their limbs. In all of their leaves there was minute traces of the victims' blood and their leaves that fell rotted and placed it back in the soil so it never left. It simply lingered for all to remember.

And Legolas did remember.

He recalled the orcs with their merciless eyes and laughter and the desperation of his mother and their people to fight and live as the orcs shot them down or managed to get a few of the warriors into bonds so they could be used for the dark purposes of Sauron. He vividly saw the panic on the pale faces of many of the Elves that had been his mentors and friends, as they understood this was a fight that they could not win and did their best to ward off a crippling despair.

He shouldn't have walked away, but he had. His mother had saved his life but she herself had not lived. An orc, originally trying to kill him had cut her down right before his eyes when she stood purposefully in its path. To this day it didn't always seem real and he would stare out the window that over looked the road home from time to time, half believing he would see his mother returning.

But he hadn't done that in at least, well, close to five years. Certainly not since he had become friends with Aragorn. His own parents being killed by orcs he had been very sympathetic even though they never once talked about it. Rothinzil was wonderful as far as friends went and he was sympathetic was well but Rothinzil was an Elf and felt wounds as deeply as Legolas did and so for once Legolas had found a friend who was more cheerful and less sorrowful in the ranger. It had been an unlooked for friendship that had slowly healed both of them.

Now though his heart was beginning to sting and he hadn't even realized his face was flushed and hot as tears blurred his vision for a brief moment before they fell and the torrential rains washed them away.

He hadn't realized that they had stopped.

Lostiâ tipped his head to the side and snarled his fingers in Legolas' hair, pulling his nephew's face back so that he could look into Legolas' eyes. "Well at least I know I don't need to remind you of where we are," he spat in reference of the red-rimmed eyes of his captive. For a moment, seeing Legolas so sorrowful he nearly repented of his evil plan but his hate for this prince and anger at the past stopped him. He had taken too many years in planning this to change now.

Blinking as a large drop found its way into his right eye, Lostiâ rolled his eyes and glared accusingly at the canopy above, or more accurately, the fir tree branches. This rain wasn't helping things and it was trying his patience, it really was. If they had been in the more 'friendly' part of the forest, where the oak trees and beech trees grew they might not be getting so wet, but the fir trees' 'leaves' were oily and shed water onto anyone who happened to be traveling below at the wrong time.

Looking at the others with wrinkles of irritation evident on his forehead in a way that made all present more than a bit uneasy, Lostiâ explained crossly, "this rain is messing everything up." And, he seethed mentally, that was being kind about how things looked.

Everyone exchanged glances and at the best looked uneasy. It wasn't wise to cross Lostiâ, unless of course you were suicidal, then you were more than welcome to grate on his nerves. Rána was the first to say anything and even he was a bit apprehensive about putting his perspective into words. "We could always find a cave," he suggested warily. "This water is driving every one to distraction and is rather miserable. In a cave we would be sheltered, the Emyn Duir is full of them," he explained guardedly, watching Lostiâ's face as he spoke.

Lostiâ didn't look amused and far from pleased. He scowled even darker and shook his head to try and rid his face of water as much as in disgust at the situation. "In a cave?" he snapped angrily, narrowing his eyes incredulously as he scrutinized his soggy companions with a critical and disbelieving eye. "Did I hear you right, Rána?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?" asked the dark-haired warrior tartly, glaring at Lostiâ. He knew he was taking a risk by getting a little argumentative but he was beginning to get short tempered along with everyone else.

In Legolas' mind they were all arguing like a pack of mangy orcs and he wasn't feeling thrilled about the prospect of a cave either. No matter how much he loathed this down pour, he hated caves more. He hated them when he was in them with friends, but being trapped in them with foes...again, it bordered on being unbearable.

Lostiâ returned Rána's glare without hesitation before he seethed, "No, you most certainly do not!" He paused and then asked insultingly, "are you insane? Elves staying in a cave?" He was getting incredibly frustrated as he had the feeling he was talking to beings with the mentality of highly stupid and stubborn children.

Arandur cocked his head eyed everyone as thought they were all insane. But a cave didn't sound horrible; as long as it wasn't small and dank it would be fine. He imagined that these caves, for the most part, would be sandy and dry and probably pretty extensive. "Well what other option do we have?" asked the green-eyed warrior a bit impatiently, not enjoying the rain any more than anyone else and quite possibly less.

Lostiâ and Rána both turned to glare at him before they returned to glaring at each other. Thunder rumbled and the wind picked up, brushing the tops of the trees and causing them to sway –and spill more water onto the already soaked and grumpy Elves. The rain looked as though it was being poured down by the bucket full as it collected in the leaves before spilling to the forest floor below with a terrific splash.

The ground was flooded.

"That settles it!" snapped Rána aggressively, fed up completely with the waiting and the grumbling. "I am going to find a cave and you can all melt for all I care!"

Legolas had felt his heart starting thudding wildly in his chest at the mention of a cave and taken a keen interest in the entire conversation. When Lostiâ hesitated, he prayed that his uncle would be far too stubborn to want to submit himself to the shelter of a cavern of any sort.

Unfortunately, Lostiâ had put up with enough of the rain and was probably willing to walk into a Dragon's mouth to escape it. Not that Legolas would have minded that, as long as he wasn't dragged along.

"Well," his uncle looked at Rána a bit malevolently. "Do you know of a cave nearby? A good and clean cave?"

Rána paused, thinking before he nodded affirmatively. "I think so." He hesitated before reminding Lostiâ of the fact that there were orcs about, making mischief, especially along the Emyn Duir. "I saw a patrol a little while ago, before your precious nephew shot me. We fought them off," he turned his attention to Legolas. "Didn't we? You, me and that strange little Edan friend of yours."

Lostiâ listened but he wasn't really concerned overly much. In this storm he couldn't picture even them stirring up commotion and trouble. Any creature with the desire to save his hide or that enjoyed dry weather would be in their home or tucked away in a cave some place. Which was one of the reasons he was reluctant to go into any grotto near this evil place. They were seldom unoccupied and he didn't wish a confrontation. After all, there were only seven of them and they were no match for a group of heavily armed Uruks or a pack of hungry wargs. For the spiders he had less concern because the rain was giving them difficulties and he didn't think his companions and himself could be classified as stragglers in their minds.

"Well, do you think they wouldn't have found a cave someplace? What if we happen to find the same one?" questioned Lostiâ, not trying to slow things down of course but taking all things into consideration so as not to meet certain disaster.

Arandur and Rána exchanged thoughtful glances before the green-eyed warrior spoke. "We could send a scout," he recommended helpfully.

"And so if the orcs toss his head out of the cave after we hear a series of horrified screams we know we aren't welcome?" Lostiâ spoke in bitter sarcasm. "We all should go together. Time is short as well as my patience."

After a tense moment of silence they all agreed, too wet and irritated to argue any more and not desiring to get on Lostiâ's bad side. He was rather…ill tempered when his patience reached its limits and wasn't beyond clobbering anyone, most likely. Though there was the hope that Legolas would bear the brunt of his wrath, it wasn't like he was in for easy sailing anyway.

As of right now, Legolas just wished there was some sign he could leave behind that would signal anyone tracking him that he was alive and waiting for help. There wasn't much else he could do and right now he felt so depressed and lonely that he didn't think he could handle a cave, any cave. But there was no sign that he could leave behind and so as his uncle and the other Elves began to pull out, looking for the closest cave possible, he couldn't help but feel his heart sink at least an inch deeper into despair.

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Aragorn didn't know how he had done it. Not that it was overly important now since he was beyond the gate but he still was a bit astonished. Getting past Elven guards was never an easy task, unless they were drunk or getting close to being overly intoxicated. Which, now that he thought about it, might have helped him a little bit. But it was a satisfyingly enjoyable feeling to think he had done it entirely on his own.

He hadn't fully avoided the guards because he didn't completely trust them. He happened to know this pair of sentries. But Aragorn didn't think an interrogation was going to make his travel any faster or help the situation in any way.

For one thing, word would get out that he was going to try and find as well as liberate Legolas and then it would circulate among the Elven community and before long he could be faced with even more trouble. The last thing Aragorn needed or desired was for Lostiâ and his minions to decide that they needed to lack up and move to a less known area, dragging Legolas with them. Of course there was also the chance that if Lostiâ had any notion that his dear nephew might get rescued then he would kill him prematurely rather than allow his escape.

Neither of these discouraging options would be allowed to happen, Aragorn promised himself as he rested on one knees among the vegetation, searching for tracks. At any rate sneaking past the guards had given him a slight boost in his self-esteem, though he couldn't help but consider the odds to be very discouraging.

Sighing as he searched in vain for some sign of which way the had dragged his friend, or more likely, traveled on horseback, Aragorn wished that Mirkwood was not so…murky, when the sun had already begun to rise. It was really aggravating and inconvenient on a normal day and now it was making him angry. It was after all, near five in the morning and the sun had started to show it's face, he knew, but you couldn't tell through the impossibly thick canopy of leaves that blanketed the forest.

The ranger blinked as the rain which had settled into a depressing drizzle, blew into his face with a change of winds. Adding to his aggravations, the air became stronger and whipped his hood back, allowing the rain to soak his head and shoulders. The man stole a moment to adjust his hood and tighten it about his face. No, wait, this was Legolas' and he hoped to have a chance to give it back.

All right, he admitted to himself, this situation is hopeless, entirely. He had been doing this for about an hour and a half and obviously, things had not improved.

When Legolas had turned up missing in Farlost he was loads easier to tack, mostly because arrogant people, like Calmir and his cronies were careless. However, now he was up against Elves and that was a completely different way of tracking. Elladan and Elrohir had been excellent teachers and even Elrond had let him in on a few secrets, but nothing compared to having them by your side in a pinch. Aragorn was sorely tempted to go and wake his father again and beg him to help.

But it was out of the question for several reasons. First being that it would be wholly dangerous and Aragorn wasn't willing to put Elrond in that kind of danger. Secondly, he didn't think both he and Elrond could elude the sentries a second time. It was asking too much. Anyway, he couldn't picture Elrond 'sneaking' anywhere.

He could only do this by himself. Bowing his head in frustration, Aragorn asked himself why life had to be so damn hard! He felt like if he could see beyond the diminutive light his poor excuse for a candle provided then everything would be blurred with a tint of red, so great was his frustration. If Legolas were here right now he would have a thing or two to say.

Staring at the candle and its attractive little flame, the man realized that Legolas would have probably called him idiot in every language he knew. Aragorn should have remembered Legolas' constant advice to never light a flame in Mirkwood if you were very far from the palace. It only made you look more delicious and noticeable to the monstrous spiders and attracted rather ugly and obnoxious insects of various sorts. But he seemed to forgetting a lot lately…

Hearing thunder, Aragorn guessed that another gale was moving in. He could see the rain breaking through the 'roof' of Mirkwood in buckets, flooding the lower grounds and so he could only imagine how heavily it was raining outside the eves of the forest.

Mirkwood normally didn't get rain like this. It was as though the Valar were crying for events past and present and the trees were mourning in their fashion, soaked branches drooped in sadness.

What Aragorn wasn't aware of was that it was making the spiders angry and frustrated, forcing them out of the trees and onto the ground where they must find easier prey as their webs had lost a lot of their stickiness. Straggler Elves were ideal, but they were few and far between and the spiders were not overly picky in their choosing. A lone human who was stupid enough to bear a light sounded as tasty as anything in their dark minds and being finicky wasn't going to fill their stomachs.

When he heard a bubbling hiss, like a seething kettle behind him, Aragorn began to understand his danger as he identified the noise as being only one a spider –and a hungry spider at that, would make. This was definitely not something he wanted and not anything that he needed.

The thing that alarmed him was that the hiss did not come from the treetops but rather the ground and directly behind him. Feeling a cold onset of fear clutching at his stomach, Aragorn forced himself to breathe deep breaths and relax. Placing a hand on his sword hilt, he turned slowly, holding the candle aloft with the other so its rays revealed his gurgling adversary.

To his dismay he saw a giant old and incredibly fat spider bubbling at him from behind with extended and raised forelegs beating the air. Aragorn grimaced as her body was revealed in the light to be slimy from the rains and spittle dripped from her mandibles as Aragorn imagined she was dreaming of fresh ranger blood. Well she could dream on as far as he was concerned.

Drawing his sword, Aragorn prepared for her to advance upon him but she didn't move, her bulbous eyes glowing as they caught light, making her look even more ghastly. But then the wind unexpectedly snuffed out Aragorn's candle and left him in the dark, being watched by the menace.

TBC...Well, audios! I am off to do my Anatomy and Physiology work along with math work. :( Please review! Please! Thanks a lot! Poor Aragorn...attacked by a spider... and dear Legolas gets to spend time in a cave...