Chapter Five: Stirrings

Elrond strode briskly through the corridors, his robes swirling about him regally. He was greatly troubled by the news Legolas had brought with him. Such tidings had not been so ill since the downfall of Sauron and the overthrow of Mordor. The world had been silent now for some time now, peace and joy returning to the forests, rivers, and valleys, that the great Elf Lord did not know what to make of these sudden dealings. He was certain, though, that this attack bode evil intent for all free peoples of Middle Earth.

He twisted his way among the corridors, turning and climbing stairs until he came at last to the room where the attendants had taken the young woman. An incredibly innate door stood at the end of the hall, it etchings those of Elvish healing spells. The Lord of Imladris walked through it, closing the door gently behind him, his keen eyes missing nothing as he scanned the room. Healers moved quickly around the room, mixing herbs and potions to cleanse the poison from the woman's body. Already it had taken its toll on her, causing beads of sweat to form on her brow, her body wracked with convulsions as she struggled to draw breath. His eyes met those of Airioswen, his second, and she shook her head gravely. Lord Elrond could only stare at her, his thoughts turning dark.

Snapping his gaze once again to the form twisting on the bed, the elf felt a burst of incredible pain and anguish come from the girl. This poison works quickly, Elrond thought. For that moment, he had felt as though fire had been running through his body, stealing his strength and breath under its heat and intense pressure. And he shuddered at the young girl's distress. And there is more than poison that causes her such grief and suffering. Forcing his body to movement, Elrond stood close to Airioswen as she cupped the girl's neck, tilting her head so that she might be able to pour one of the potions that would reduce the swelling that was obstructing her airway.

"How fares she, Airioswen?"

The gentle elf shook her head, her attention focused solely on the patient before her. "Not well, my Lord. Already the poison runs thickly, too thickly, through her blood and saps the strength from her body. We must hurry if we are to save her from passing beyond this world."

"Do what you must," Elrond said, nodding to her. "I will return shortly to aid you however I may. Prince Legolas informed me that her companion," he nodded his head in the direction of the woman on the bed, "was also injured and in need of aid, though not so seriously as she. I will bring her with me when I return and turn her over to your care."

The healer bowed to her Lord, turning to take another brew from one of the other elves in the room. Elrond strode purposefully for the door, opening it only to pause at the threshold. "I will take over her charge when I come again." His eyes strayed to the thrashing figure on the bed. "We cannot let her pass. I fear some great importance radiates from this child. We must save her, at any and all costs!" With that, the elf Lord strode briskly out of the room, leaving Airioswen to ponder at his words. But she did not hesitate for too long for the woman gave a great heaving gasp, turning all attention back to her.

It was with all possible haste that the riders from Gondor arrived in the city of Rivendell, guarded by the watchful eyes of the sentinels that stood between the Ford and the gate of the city. Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at finally having reached their destination without further harm being done. As it was, the girl whom they had first encountered had yet to waken from her unconscious state and all within their company were tired and hard pressed. Searching the faces around him, Aragorn noted that each, to some degree, carried the weight of exhaustion heavily on their features.

A slight touch on his arm made him turn his head, the frown that had been marring his brow turning to a warm smile for the woman who rested her mount beside his.

"Lye cael'karne ta, vernoamin."

"I'Valar nae yassen lye, Arwen." They shared a smile, their eyes warming as they met. Aragorn reached his hand across the distance, laying his palm against the soft skin of her cheek. "Amin mela lle."

Arwen smiled, her heart bursting with the love that she had for this man. "Amin mela lle, vithel, Aragorn."

Their would be embrace was interrupted abruptly by a large noise from behind them. The lovers turned, their eyes turning from confused concern to amusement when met with the sight before them. Gimli had been attempting to dismount from his place behind Imrahil and had managed to get his foot tangled in the leather that held the saddle in place. He had fallen hard, his pride taking the brunt of it, adding the already painful sensations that riding hard for weeks in a saddle had cause his body. Arwen stifled a laugh behind her hand, turning away so as not to offend the already angry, and most definitely humiliated, dwarf, while Aragorn's lips quirked in amusement. The hobbits were, at this moment, taking the brunt of Gimli's displeasure for they were laughing openly, considering this fair justice to the earlier wrongs done to them that morning.

"S-s-see what h-hap-pens when you do horrible things t-to others?" Sam stuttered, his guffaws loud enough to wake the dead in Gimli's opinion.

"True, Sam," Frodo said, joining the others in their mocking the dwarf. He was a little miffed himself at waking to cold water being poured all over him this morning and considered this something that Gimli had coming. Even the soldiers were stifling giggles and snickers behind mail clad hands. It was a truly amusing sight indeed.

Scowling, Gimli frowned at the hobbits, his focus completely on trying to keep himself from rubbing the sorest part of his body and giving both soldiers and hobbits something else to amuse themselves. "I would be cautious about taunting a dwarf if I were you, Master Samwise. You've already seen what can happen when we dwarves are feeling affronted or such. Must I remind you about Moria?"

This immediately caught the attention of the hobbits, making them shift a little uncomfortably in their saddles. The soldiers were confused, to say the least. Gimli, of course, was referring to the time in Moria that he had stuffed a small snake into Merry's pack as revenge for a comment made on 'Dwarf architecture'. Merry had been frightened out of his wits when he had opened his bag, only to receive a tongue lashing from Gandalf for making too much noise.

Gimli turned away from the four small beings, satisfaction written in his features for his ability to make them cease in their laughter, only to catch Aragorn and Arwen looking at him, mirth evident in their eyes. He frowned harder, if such a thing was possible, staring them down and daring them to say something about his less than graceful dismount. Aragorn turned away after a moment, his eyes meeting Elladan's and Elrohir's. The twins were grinning broadly, making it all the more difficult for him to contain his laughter beneath the stern king façade.

Turning, mischief in his eyes, Elladan spoke to the still irate dwarf. "I would have thought spending the time that you have on the back of Arod, you would have learned by now how to make your way from the elevated position in which you ride, Master Gimli, to the ground that you love so dear. Of course," he continued, ignoring Aragorn's warning look, "if you were so eager to find the ground beneath you, why did you not simply ask for Imrahil's assistance in lowering you to your feet, rather than allowing your pride, both of them, to bear the brunt of your fall?"

"Elladan."Aragorn growled threateningly beneath his breath. All were tired and in much need of rest. The soldiers had already begun dismounting and letting the stable hands take their mounts and here was his half-brother, teasing an already incensed dwarf.

Elladan ignored him, his face threatening to split into a broad grin at any second. But it was Gimli that surprised Aragorn the most. He said nothing, merely turning a thoughtful gaze on the elf. Aragorn became suspicious immediately. It was unlike Gimli to let an elf, any elf get the best of him and so for him to be so calm about the comment that Elladan had made was certainly enough to alert the King.

It wasn't long before Gimli replied to Elladan's remark. "Indeed, mayhap you speak the truth Master Elf. Perhaps I should have waited. However, I find it rather difficult to remain on the back of an animal that prefers for me to be on the ground, rather than on his back. So my not waiting was the best possible solution to the problem. Wouldn't you agree Elahir?"

At the sound of his brother's childhood name on Gimli's lips, Elrohir could no longer contain his laughter and let loose. His brother turned an accusing glare on him which only made Elrohir laugh all the harder. Aragorn and Arwen were not immune and were themselves struggling to remain upright. Gimli had another one of his satisfied smiles on his lips. Even the hobbits were snickering behind hands.

"I shall truly enjoy killing Legolas for this," Elladan said, his own eyes revealing the mirth that was not present on his face.

"C-come, brother. You must have known that Legolas would tell Gimli of our childhood names we created for each other."

Aragorn dismounted then, still chuckling, and moved to help Arwen from her saddle. "True. There isn't much that Legolas hasn't told Gimli regarding his past with all of us."

Elladan smiled then, the twinkle returning to his eyes. "I wonder then," he said to the others as he slid gracefully from Mealin's back, "whether or not he made mention to Gimli the name that we had picked out for him."

The four siblings smirked at each other, each turning to look at Gimli for denial or confirmation. Their smiles only grew as Gimli shook his head, his own grin spread across his face as he waited for them to tell him what his elf-friend had been taunted with.

There was dead silence for a beat, then Elladan said very succinctly, "Leg'las."

The entire courtyard erupted with laughter. Sam and Frodo grabbed their sides, laughing at such a name being given to the stern prince that they knew. Merry and Pippin slid bonelessly to the ground, clutching their sides and howling with mirth. Gimli let out great guffaws of amusement, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Aragorn and Arwen clutched each other, laughing with pure enjoyment at the hobbits and Gimli. Elladan and Elrohir had collapsed on the stairs, their own eyes shining with moisture from laughing so hard.

It was this sight that greeted Elrond as he walked briskly to the newly returned group. He paused, lifting an eyebrow at Imrahil, who was standing off to the side. The Captain shrugged, wordlessly conveying his own confusion. Elrond cleared his throat, hoping to gain the attention of the figures who were now littered in helpless heaps on the ground. When that failed to work, the Lord of Imladris, amusement shining in his eyes, brought himself to his full height, and declared in his best Lord-of-the- Manor voice, "WHAT is the meaning of this?"

The laughter died almost immediately. All eyes snapped warily to the doorway where the Elven Lord stood. From their place just below their father on the stairs, the twins rose guiltily to their feet, glancing at each other with knowing eyes. That was the voice the one heard before punishment.

"Elladan, Elrohir. Explain." Elrond's tone left no room for argument and the two brothers, who had lived for so many thousands of years, felt again as though they were only twenty-five.

"Nothing, father," Elladan said, bowing low before his Lord. "We were merely jesting about old time."

"And you feel that now is the time for jests, Captain?"

Elladan winced, but it was Elrohir that answered. Bowing, the commander answered, "Nay, father. It was merely something that came up."

Only Aragorn and Arwen, who had remained silent, noticed the twinkle that lit those gray depths that could turn a man to stone, and they smiled at each other. The hobbits had managed to pull some semblance of order and pick each other off the ground, while Gimli began to dust off his armor.

Sparing one last scathing glance at his unruly twins, Elrond stepped lightly down the stairs to embrace his son-in-law and daughter. "Welcome home, my children. It has been to long."

Aragorn bowed respectfully before the elf who had raised him, love and warmth shining in his eyes. "Hello, atar," Arwen said, stepping lovingly into his embrace.

Turning, the great Lord spied the hobbits milling just behind the others. "Welcome again to Rivendell, Master Hobbits and Master Gimli. It is with greater pleasure that I greet you this time, though I fear that all may not be as well as we hope it to be." His face became concerned then, his eyes troubled. "Legolas arrived some time ago, brining with him a woman who was badly wounded. He said something of her companion. Where is she?"

"Here, my Lord," said Rangor, stepping forward, the woman still in his arms.

Elrond motioned him forward, his keen gaze searching the woman's face and form for signs of her injuries. "We did not believe her as badly wounded as her companion, atar," Arwen explained, stepping forward. "That is why we sent no other escort ahead with her."

Elrond nodded, accepting his daughter's words and motioned for two of his attendants milling about to come and bear the woman to the healer's quarters. "Legolas mentioned the attack by the Uruk-hai. But," he said, raising a hand to ward off any explanation that Estel had been about to give, "all tales must wait. Rooms have been prepared for your rest, my friends. We will meet an hour before the supper bell chimes. I would have explanations then. For now, you will be shown to your quarters, where you may take your respite. The women are being seen to. Go now. Let your minds be cleared of any troubles. Until later."

He dismissed the group before him, turning once again to his sons. He allowed them to see only his stern disapproval of their behavior earlier before breaking into a smile. "I trust that no further antics or displays such as those you have exhibited are forthcoming this day?"

"Nay, father," Elrohir replied readily, sighing in relief.

"Then see to your duties. I would require your presence tonight when we speak of the matters that have occurred this day. Evil stirs and I would have all in attendance to discuss what must be done."

The two bowed low before turning and making their way across the courtyard. Elrond stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel the presence of evil stirring in the distance, the shadow that was rising in the mountains. It troubled him greatly that such a threat would intrude upon them so soon after the destruction of Sauron. He sighed then, weariness creeping over him. Such is the way of the world. Evil is defeated, only to have a new evil take its place. Would that we would have had longer to recover. But no matter. We must be prepared for whatever new perils lie ahead. He turned then, making his way back to the chambers he had left only moments before. The women needed tending to. He would see to them first and let time take its course. Before the night was over, he hoped to have more answers to the riddles that plagued his mind.

The shadow could feel his power growing. It was only a matter of time now before he would be able to control all of Middle Earth and the inhabitants therein. He laughed, the sound gratingly harsh in the dark caverns where he now dwelled. How he had waited for this moment. For thousands of years he had bided his time in his prison, plotting revenge on the innocents who dwelt in the land where he had been imprisoned. A creature who had once lived and basked in the sunlight had become deformed, reveling in shadow and darkness.

To his enemies he was known as Sharnok. Once an ancient, he had abused the powers given to him by Gaia. The Tua De Dannaa had first learned of his attempts at power at the beginning of their existence. They feared the Ancient one who sought their enslavement to his will. So they had called for Nadriel and Relampago, for the Ancients of the old days, for the fathers of their world. And in turn, they had taken him to Gaia. She had judged him, stripping him of his powers, and allowing his fellow immortals decide his sentence. Eternity in the darkness he had so desired to bring upon others. And so, had been banished from the world he once knew, sent to live in another place, at another time, hurled into the darkest crevice of the deepest mountain in that realm. For the first thousand years, he had pleaded with Gaia to release him, to allow him another chance for freedom, for peace.

But the Great One had not heeded his pleas, knowing his heart to be evil, unchanged. And the slight had burned him. So he no longer suffered his voice to be heard. Instead, he had turned his ear to the land around him, listening to the deep tidings of the Earth. He had gleaned much from the rocks that entombed him. They told him of their beginning, their present. They spoke of strange beings, those that he had only heard of in the stories of the Tua De Dannaa. They spoke of light and joy, of peace and knowledge beyond years. But Sharnok cared nothing of these things anymore. He had learned to love the darkness, finding strength from the inky blackness surrounding him. Silence became his domain, tuning his senses to trace the smallest sounds, the lightest sighs that were given off by the things that came near his prison.

It was there, seven thousand years after his imprisonment, that the immortal being first heard the whispers of a growing malevolence on the land. The rocks had spoken of a Dark Lord and his quest for ultimate power. He had rejoiced, feeling kinship to this power that sought dominion over those who would seek to take it from him. Discouragement had come with his first defeat. But he knew that all was not in vain. So when darkness crept back into the land, he smiled in the dark, knowing what vengeance and retribution would be brought upon those that had destroyed such evil. His own mind was akin to that of the Dark Lord, desire for power and dominion over those who had destroyed him ever present in his mind. But then news of the Dark One's fall had reached him, and Sharnok had raged, howling with fury at the peoples who had overthrown him, and the innocents in the land where he was now captive, at the Ancients and Gaia. But his hatred was most especially turned toward the Tua De Dannaa. Had they not interfered, he would have succeeded, never having to suffer this torment in the dark. His rage had consumed him, boiling and erupting like a volcano, the rocks around him trembling at the power of his anger.

It was at this time, when the Earth had already been weakened, and the land had lost much strength in the battle for good, that Sharnok heard a new sound beside the silence. A tiny rustling, like that of a birds wings on the summer breeze. And in the piercing dark, his eyes had caught the sharp brightness of light. To one who sees the light of day constantly, it would have been nothing. Merely a speck of light that hung in the shadow. But to one who had spent much of his immortal days in a darkness so thick that even shadows fled its presence, it was like a beacon, beckoning him to freedom. And so, after years of waiting, of biding his time, Sharnok had found his release in a tiny gap created by his immeasurable anger.

And now the dark thing sat upon his 'throne', overseeing the work done by the creatures that he had enlisted. Even the presence of the Guardian could not diminish his enthusiasm and anticipation. Already he had waited too long, already he had allowed his imprisonment to continue for too much time. Now it was time to act, to take his revenge, to bring about his plan of ultimate evil. With the Guardian here, it only made it all the more sweet.

Sharnok rose, gliding through the dark caverns that had been his home for almost ten thousand years. We will see what your Guardian is capable of, Nadriel. We will see what mettle holds her in such high esteem, what skills you have managed to teach her, what heart beats inside her breast. The Uruk-hai glanced up from their metal workings, only to cower away from the dark form hovering on the edge of the darkness.

"Where is Garnor?"

The wretched beast who he had addressed fell to his knees, bowing his head low before his Master. "Garnor has gone to speak with those who returned from your errand, Most Honored One."

The Master smiled, pleased with this news. "Send him to me when he returns."

"Yes, Sire." The shadow receded, leaving the nearest to him shivering with the cold that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Sharnok was pleased with the efforts of these evil beings. They worked without question, following whatever order he gave. Such wonderful beasts to have under my control, he thought. Evil in heart and soul, they ever seek to destroy the light. Ah, 'tis a wonderful thing. He chuckled darkly, the iciness stealing over the cavernous room.

Sharnok approached the only table in attendance within the caves. On this piece, there stood one solitary kettle. Sharnok had sent scouts to find specific herbs and roots to grind into a paste that would be used to coat a knife. One knife. That was all that it would take. He fingered the substance, delighting in the way it burrowed beneath the skin, sinking into the veins to do the most damage possible. 'Twas a harsh poison, one that was feared by the Ancients, respected by Gaia herself. Few knew how to make it. And he would see that it worked to his purposes.

He heard footsteps approaching in the dark and turned to meet the Captain of the Uruk-hai and he bowed on his knees before his Master. "It is done," was all that he said.

Smiling, Sharnok approached the kneeling figure. "Excellent. Now I have another task for you. Send your Uruk-hai to the valley of the Elves. Close enough to see the comings and goings, but not to get caught by the patrols that are certain to be keeping a closer watch on the surrounding forests and streams. Inform me of any and all movements made by those within."

"Yes, My Lord."

After Garnor had taken his leave, he hurried immediately to his second in command, giving his orders in the harsh tongue of the orcs, not allowing any space for argument. Sharnok felt the power growing within him. We will now see, Nadriel, if your Guardian can stand against the poison of the dead. Let her fight the darkness within herself, and then I will face her, turn her, use her. Ah, Nadriel, your fall will be great, and the fall of this Middle Earth even greater. The laugh that echoed through the caverns was pure Evil.

Nadriel and Relampago both turned as the wind came howling across the planes. It swept through the trees, causing them to shiver in its wake. Nadriel hung his head, his heart aching that he must wait to go to her. But it was what had to be done. The only way that they would know for a certain if she was up to the task, that she could handle the evil that now threatened this land that was not their home.

Relampago snorted, tossing his dark head against the evil he felt on the wind. Nadriel nodded, agreeing with the stallion. "He grows ever powerful. I fear for this Earth should he ever conquer them. His darkness would be like a plague, killing all good things and leaving shadow and destruction in his wake."

Looking down on his friend, the Ancient One sighed, his heart rent in two. "Pray that she remembers her own strength and courage, my friend. Pray that her heart remains true. Pray that she does not lose her way in the dark, that the light of those who would love her will be strong enough the carry her through the gloom. Pray," he said, turning his eyes to the West, "that she allows herself to be loved, and to love again."

The clouds shifted then, turning dark and ominous. And when the lightning flashed across the sky, splitting the world, and the rain thundered down to soak the Earth, the two Ancients kept their vigil, sending strength and courage to the child who lay within the Elven realm, her life hanging by the delicate thread of hope.

Author's Note: "Lye cael'karne ta, vernoamin."-We have made it, my husband.

"I'Valar nae yassen lye, Arwen."-The Valar were with us, Arwen.

"Amin mela lle."-I love you.

"Amin mela lle, vithel, Aragorn."-I love you, also, Aragorn