Chapter 7

Rumor Of A Shadow

"Ah, we're never going to get them without Him!" a small orc came into Aragorn's line of view, looking like he wanted to kill. Another unseen voice answered him.

"Shut that ever-moving mouth of yours before I do it for you. Now keep looking! Search everywhere!"

Growling loudly and cursing at each other, they all left through the hole and continued to search all of the little island. Aragorn and Elladan listen to them for a few minutes before moving deeper into the cave, searching for a place to take care of their horses.

When they could no longer see the entrance, Aragorn suddenly realized that all the supplies Elladan had brought was a pack of things he had quickly put together, but the majority of their equipment was not with them. The horse's tack, the knapsack Aragorn had taken off and left, everything!

"Elladan, what did you bring? Surely the orcs will find the rest of what we brought with us. We will have nothing for the return journey home!"

"Oh, don't worry Aragorn." Elladan opened the pack and began to remove herbs, rags, blankets, containers of water, and even a small bundle of wood. "I've hidden them well. If they find anything I'll let them take it for I will be in shock." Aragorn knelt and took the bundle of wood, and in no time at all had a small fire going. The wind in the cave kept the smoke moving, making the fire comforting rather than suffocating.

Elladan took out a shallow pan and handed it to Aragorn with a container of river water. "Come, let's take care of these two."

For the next few hours Elladan and Aragorn took care of their horses. Using the best of their knowledge they did everything they could to help them. The small fire did little to warm two huge horses, but warming blankets to a comforting heat and wrapping them in them did much. Using special potions Elladan had learned they cured the chills and any fever that may have taken hold, and in the late hours of the night, both animals were recovering wonderfully.

Sitting down with a small groan Aragorn relaxed near the small fire and tried to ease the stiffness that had built up in his back and legs over the past short while. Elladan finished gathering the rest of his herbs and carefully placed them back in his pack. Stroking the fire so that it continued to burn merrily, he sat down with a heavy sigh next to Aragorn.

"Well, I think we can declare them out of danger now." Elladan smiled.

"Yes, I'd say they'll be fine if we leave them alone tonight." Aragorn leaned his head against the rock wall behind him and relaxed.

"Aragorn, are you fine?" the abruptness of the question made Aragorn look at Elladan carefully, but could find nothing but concern in the elf's eyes. After a pause, he continued. "I know that you are still in pain. I can see it in your eyes." Aragorn looked away, staring at his hands. "You fear for him."

"I do fear for him. I don't know what's happening at home Elladan." Aragorn suddenly looked back up at the elf. "El, there's something strange happening. It's been haunting me. I keep seeing Legolas in pain. Pain that Elrohir and Ada are having trouble handling." Aragorn stopped for a moment, passing one hand over his eyes wearily. "Pain that I can now constantly feel, like a knife in my heart." Aragorn again looked down. "He's falling. I can feel it."

"No, Estel, he cannot fall." Elladan placed one hand on the man's shoulder. "He has your hope. Your confidence. Both could fill the hearts of Middle Earth. He won't fall until you do. Don't give up on yourself."

"But he's so weary. Weary with a poison that has but a single cure. I don't even know if he's still alive."

Elladan grew quiet for a moment. Aragorn had been very quiet about what he felt about Legolas' getting hurt and poisoned. The elf had heard Aragorn mention him very little indeed, barely at all since they had begun. Elladan had wondered, worried, but done nothing, for there wasn't anything he could do. But then Elladan thought of something.

"Aragorn, what has Legolas taught you?"

Aragorn was quiet for several moments, thinking about it. "How can that be described?" Aragorn looked at the elf next to him with a strange, yet thoughtful look. "Let me try it this way. Elladan, you taught me to walk, but Ada taught me to run. Elrohir taught me to look, but you taught me to see. I was taught to hear, but then to listen. Taught to sing, then to rejoice. I discovered that there is another side to everything. There is something deeper that isn't always grasped at first. You start with something that skims the top of the water, and only later do you go beneath the surface, and find the true value of what you can do. What you can discover."

"What value did he enforce for you?"

"You, Ada, and Elrohir taught me to fly, to go beyond myself. Be who I wanted to be, and didn't think any less of me so long as it was what I really wanted, and who I really was. Then Legolas came, and . . ."

". . . And? . . ."

"He taught me to soar."He paused. "He taught me everything again. Only to look harder, see it another way. See through another's eyes. Understand with another's mind. Feel with another's heart. He's so different than me, but he made it so it didn't matter. Didn't matter that we were worlds apart."

Aragorn pressed his knuckles into his eyes to keep the burning inside. "And now I might lose the one who has given me such freedoms that I never would have known otherwise, that I can never repay."

"It is such a secret place, the land of tears." Elladan whispered as he watched Aragorn struggle with himself. "Such a secret place."

"What does that mean?" Aragorn looked up at him questioningly, though his eyes remained red and almost dark at a glance.

"It's just something Nana used to say . . ." said Elladan, almost as if he spoke in a dream. At once, Aragorn knew he was recalling his mother, remembering her voice, her words, and her touch. But ever conscious of what was happening, Elladan snapped out of his daze and explained. "It is a secret place, for it is different to every individual. We all see tears differently. Opinions may change, views may alter, but it remains forever different and unique to everyone who visits, for no one sees it the same. So tell me, why do you weep? What are those tears on your face?" Aragorn hadn't even realized that he was crying, even if silently.

"I fear I will never see him alive again."

"Your fears will pass." Elladan told him gently, reaching forward and wiping away the silver-clear linings on the young man's face. "Don't fear. He is strong for you. Be strong for him. You have repaid him in many ways, Estel, and one day you'll know how. I think in a way he's become apart of you, because he's your friend that holds you in such a high place of honor. He knows you by what he has come to know as your inner soul, as you to him. Don't underestimate the power of a friendship. You discover hidden powers and strengths with a friend. Sometimes it could be the only thing to pull you from the edge. In a way, I think you've saved each other much more than once."

Aragorn nodded, then reached forward and embraced the elf tightly. "Hannon le, Elladan. Thank you for helping me, in more than I shall ever know or come to understand." He was silent for a few moments, but suddenly continued. "She was right. It is a secret place, and one that I know well. As of yet has been one I visit often alone." Aragorn's voice was filled with the call of a lost one.

"You don't visit alone." Elladan embraced the man tightly back. "Never alone. Someone visits with you every time. Mourns every time you mourn, aches every time you cry, though you may not always know it, may not always know who suffers silently at your side."

Elladan let go of the man and leaned him against the wall, saying only, "Sleep."

"Sleep . . ." Aragorn sunk into the depths of his memories.

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Arien jerked out of his doze and whickered fearfully. Elladan was quickly to the horse's side, but suddenly noticed why the horse had called. The air in the cave had changed from cool and soft to a sudden warmth and moving much faster. Confused at the change, Elladan stared into the surrounding tunnels that snaked everywhere. All the air seemed to be in motion.

Aragorn did not sleep in the change for long. Waking to the swift air he stood and walked to Elladan, who was staring at one particular tunnel that opened just to the left of the entrance. The tunnel dived for a few feet and then curled upward, out of sight.

Elladan noticed Aragorn next to him and turned his head to the man, though his eyes never left the tunnel. "There's something in there."

"What is it?"

"I do not know. I can feel it's presence; it's unlike one I have ever encountered."

The uncertainty in Elladan's voice put Aragorn on edge. He too focused on the tunnel, and it wasn't long before they both could hear the sound of large feet, approaching quickly, and yet so silently.

Aragorn froze when he first heard them, for the sound was unlike one he had ever heard before. He could easily recognize the sound of a man or an elf's steps, and of many animals, but these were not clear to him. It was obvious the stranger walked on four legs like a horse, but the sounds were completely unlike the smooth ambling of hoofs. It was as if the front legs were much smaller than the back legs, making the sounds of walking most unnatural and strange, yet still in tune.

The noise was steadily growing lighter and more persistent, as if it were moving faster it would be here in moments. Aragorn looked over at Elladan nervously.

"Do you think we should hide?"

Elladan shook his head. "Whatever it is, it knows we are here, but I do not feel any sense of evil following this creature. But let's move over here, so it will not scare the horses."

Aragorn followed Elladan over to the far side of the cave room, leaving loud echoing of the horse's feet in their wake. And right away, whatever was coming to them heard the noise and began to move even faster.

A faint light began to appear in the shadows of the cave walls, bouncing with the creature's movement. It steadily grew brighter until it was in league with their small fire, and the shape of the creature began to appear on the walls. The shape told them it was larger than either of their horses, and most unlike anything any of them had ever seen.

Finally they saw feet appear out of the tunnel, going down the descent and entering the room. Aragorn and Elladan did not move as the sight in front of them grew to it's full height.

It was a dragon.

Almost entirely black with flashes of silver, the dragon seemed to move with the heated wind in the cave. It's skin was not entirely scaly but covered with short hair, with a short thick mane that did not lay on it's neck, but stuck out and waved as the creature walked. It's body was long and snake-like, weaving up and down from head to tail. It's back legs were huge and bulky, though very strong, and while it's front legs were much smaller and shorter, they still held much power. His feet were not hoofs but had three toes, larger on the back feet than the front. Soft folded wings rested on either side of the dragon's sides. It's long neck was thick and muscular, and it's head was shaped almost like that of a horse. Framing his face was a thin leather halter, and dangling from the forehead strap a small white stone that glowed softly. It explained the light, for now the cave room was filled with the white light. The most unique part of the dragon was the fact that between the nose and mouth of the dragon it had one single, thick whisker on either side. Both flowed lightly as the dragon walked, their ends reaching the creature's front knees. Dark forest green eyes watched them quietly.

Aragorn looked into the eyes as one entranced. Over the left eye, two thick parallel scars long healed obscured the dragon's gaze, making him look deadly and tough. As a bringer and controller of dreams, he was both strong and hard, though oddly gentle, the guardian of Kathalion the healer, an old descendent of the old last dragons that remained hidden, the silent wanderer of his time.

Aragorn knew who had found them. Moran's voice came back like an echo of the past.

Kathalion does have a guardian, so be careful around him. Matthius has a nasty temper to those who appear hostile.

"Matthius." The name was not a question.

The creature walked up to them and faced Elladan, and with his head only inches away from the elf's, his green eyes locked on the grey. Elladan did not look away. After a moment, the dragon lifted one three-toed foot and placed it on Elladan's chest for just a moment, nodded, and then turned away. Leaving them he began walking down a path on the right. Just before he disappeared, he looked back and stared at Aragorn. Under the creature's intense gaze, Aragorn felt like squirming, but like Elladan he held the dragon's eyes without showing fear. And as before, a moment later the dragon nodded, and again turned and continued down the tunnel.

Elladan spoke as the creature's swishing tail faded around a corner. "We must follow him."

"Follow him?"

"Yes. He can help us find the eagle. I saw it in his eyes. He wants us to follow."

Elladan picked up the pack he had finished putting back together and strapped it to his back. Picking up both sets of the horse reins he tossed one to Aragorn and put his own back on Hísië's head. Then silently, with only the sounds of the horse's feet to remind them to keep going, they caught up with the silent dragon and followed.

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They walked through the tunnels for most of what was left of the night. Aragorn took the lead with Arien next to him, and followed the flowing gait of the dragon just ahead. While he watched, the young man realized that Matthius almost looked like he was flying, though his feet never entirely left the ground. But as Aragorn focused so intently on the dragon's wary form, he realized that he was constantly hearing things.

Like in the dream that he had had only a few nights ago, it was all flashes of voices and memories. He would hear so many things that were so dear and familiar to him. So many voices, sights, sounds, and even smells swirled in his head and floated around him. It also seemed that he was the only one to be experiencing them.

Elladan walked silently behind him, lost in his own thoughts. Neither of the horses made any noise, and Matthius ahead kept his pace that never grew weary. Aragorn tried to resist the voices in his head, but finally gave up. He let them play before him, and began to relive moments of the past.

Right when he stopped the resistance, he stopped getting flashes and received whole memories. The events began to go backwards chronologically, and Aragorn watched several fond events that slowly grew to his younger years.

The memories grew faster and more detailed the farther back it got. Aragorn saw himself with his family at all ages, skipping from one event to another. For the next hour he relived several hunting trips, training lessons, talks with his father, jokes with his brothers, and the good and bad times with Legolas. The last one he saw was of him and Elrond together, reading a book. He could not have been more than four years old. Aragorn had to smile slightly at that one.

Once that one was complete the memories faded away from him. He was almost disappointed, but still Aragorn waited for it to happen again, for he felt like it was not over yet. There was more to come, he was very sure of that. The odd feeling he had carried since the first dream had not yet left.

He was right. A very short while later the familiar swell returned, but this time it did not take him to the familiar events of his past. Rather, it took him to a place he did not recognize. The cave walls melted from his view. A wide colorful meadow opened in front of his eyes.

And this time, rather than being the observer, he became a part of the memory, running to someone he did not remember.

The grass was soft and springy as he ran on unsteady feet to a very pretty woman. As soon as he was close enough he threw up his arms in delight and giggled happily as the woman picked him up and tossed him into the air, then embraced him tightly for a moment. One part of him was so happy to be with her, but his older self was confused at his own deeds. Who was she?

He realized that he was much younger than he thought. Before, the youngest he had seen himself was only about four, but now . . . why, he could have been no more than two years of age.

The woman placed him on her hip and began walking back to an encampment not too far distant. He watched her like one entranced, but so confused. Somewhere he knew she was familiar, but he could not put a name to her face. He could not remember.

His undivided attention seemed to please her, and she began to talk to him, pointing out a flower, a bird, and finally . . . an approaching man.

Curiosity was added to his confusion. The woman pointed at the man for his sake and began to walk faster, eagerly talking to Aragorn. When they reached the man he swept them both up in a firm hug, and began walking with them back to the encampment.

Aragorn stared at them both, confusion growing. Who where they? There was something inside him that said he knew, or had once known, but now, after so many years, the memory was so short and undetailed.

The man was laughing as he talked to his wife, for Aragorn could assume they were married, and finally reached out for Aragorn. The woman gave him up right away, placing the small child in the man's arms.

The face of the man was light and merry, and suddenly Aragorn knew the familiarity he felt. Felt but had not understood. The face . . . it was so much like his own . . .

"Father?" he murmured at the man, and watched the man smile widely at the title.

"Yes, Aragorn." His voice at once rang forth from Aragorn's memory, breaking through the veil it had hidden under for so long.

"Look at that." He said to his wife as she to smiled at the name Aragorn had spoken. "He is learning so quickly."

Father? Aragorn to stare at the man, along with the woman beside him. Mother?

"That's right, Aragorn," the woman said to the little boy, stroking his cheek softly. "That's your father."

Her voice too was suddenly breaking through his mind, like the sound of something long lost, and now found at last.

"Mother?" his voice was soft and slightly wobbly, his voice a recognizable two-year-old's, but the meaning understood by those he was with. The woman to smiled at her own title that had finally been said by her first-born son.

"Yes, my young son. Yes."

They entered the small encampment and the man handed Aragorn back to his mother. His mother . . . Aragorn saw, knew, but could not believe that what he saw was real.

"I will be back soon Gilraen. There have been rumors of orcs." Gilraen frowned ever so slightly in her worry.

"Be careful. I shall wait for you."

"I will be just fine. Don't worry about me." He kissed her tenderly on the cheek, and then turned to Aragorn. "Take care of your mother, my little Aragorn, until I return." He smiled happily as he ruffled the small child's short dark hair.

"Father . . ." Aragorn said again, and looked questioningly at the man, looking for the last bit of conformation he needed to make the connection.

"Be safe." the man kissed him on the forehead, then with one last look, turned away. A short distance farther, a small group of men waited. "Come Arathorn!" one called. "We must leave now if we wish to return before nightfall. The orcs grow more restless."

Arathorn turned and waved at his wife and son before joining the others. Arathorn, Aragorn thought. Gilraen. I know them. They . . . they are my parents. My parents!

But how? He wondered as Gilraen took him to a large tent and set him down on the floor. How can I remember them? It was so long ago . . . Those memories had long since been forgotten, but at that moment, he didn't care. Aragorn rose to his feet and followed her everywhere she went, watching her with unshakeable curiosity... A short while later she again picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket, and walking slowly around the room, began to sing him to sleep.

I remember this. He thought as he felt his body relax and his senses falling into the world of sleep. I remember her. Laying his head against her shoulder his eyes drooped heavily. All too soon he was softly snoring, half awake, and the last thing he remembered was her laying him down on something soft. Darkness came . . .

The memory faded out of his head and Aragorn awoke to walking through the cave. Arien still plodded next to him, though the stallion looked half awake. Matthius was still gliding just ahead, and behind him Aragorn could hear Elladan and Hísië. Nothing had changed. Nothing but himself.

Why would he have that memory of his parents come back to him? Sure, he had always wondered about them and asked Elrond and his brothers for details, but mostly they had remained a fantasy in the back of his mind. It confused and scared him. He didn't understand. Something was fooling with feelings he had laid long ago to rest. He was worried to death about Legolas, he was trying to concentrate on getting his friend the cure, and now it was almost there, right within his grasp!

And yet . . .

He suddenly got the thought that someone was trying to make him forget, to focus on something else so that he wouldn't succeed in getting Legolas' cure. The thought frightened him. It seemed logical. After all, someone had sent orcs after them, that much he had figured out from listening to the party search for them. Right away he knew what was happening.

Someone was trying to hurt him.