Hey everyone!!

I'm so sorry I didn't get to post a new chapter on New Years but my dad was kinda hogging the computer, LoL. That and I have semester finals this week gags, so I'm running on adrenaline and caffine.

Anyway, this chapter is kind of in between long and short. It's not quite so angsty (but I promise later chapters will be chocked full of angst ;-)) , but it's not really fluffy either. Just read, you'll see!

Ok, enough blabbing. On with the show!!

Chapter Six: Turbaned Stranger

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

I don't know where it goes

But it's home to me,

And I walk alone.

I walk this empty street

On this boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

I'm the only one

And I walk alone.

Greenday

Two cloaked strangers fought their way slowly through the bone chilling winds and the heavily falling sleet that plagued the passage through the Misty Mountains. Though summer was at it's height and the land surrounding the mountains was warm and humid, the mountains seemed to be a foreboding island of the winter to come, allowing any that dared traverse the lonely stone paths no rest. They had long ago abandoned their horses, trusting that they would find a safe passage home through the raging winds. The travelers seemed undaunted, however, by the fact that they had no beasts of burden to aid them on the long, perilous road.

Of coarse, that could have been because it was harder to ride a horse through snow that it was to walk on top of it.

The figure in the lead spotted a rocky overhand as they rounded the corner, signaling for his partner to follow him into the shelter. The latter nodded, and turned with determination toward the rocky refuge. Under the overhang, the winds had slowed to a gentle yet annoying breeze, and the falling sleet was greatly reduced. The two travelers slipped the hoods off their heads and looked at each other.

To one who wasn't very familiar with those of the elven race, the two before them would seem to be nearly identical. Both of the elves in question sported waist length blonde hair, smooth and braided in a way that only the eldar could achieve. Their pointed ears stuck out amid the locks of flowing hair, distinguishing them from men. Both elves seemed to glow with an unearthly light, which reflected off the snow and provided a dim light in the darkness of the mountain range. As they tossed their packs to the ground, the pair looked again at each other and smiled.

The slightly shorter elf with sandy-blonde hair sighed in exasperation, shaking out his dark green cloak. "Look at this! Do you see this? I hope you're happy, I don't think I've ever been so wet in my entire life," he whined in a very un-elvish way, gesturing to the droplets that dripped from his weather-beaten garb. The other elf laughed, a musical laugh that all but drowned out the back round noise of the raging wind.

"Feolin, you complain too much. Anyway, I know for a fact that you were much more entirely soaked long before this," retorted the other, cocking an amused eyebrow. Feolin frowned.

"When?" he questioned skeptically, crossing his arms in challenge of the other's accusation.

"When my sister and I pushed you into my father's personal bath. You were lucky he wasn't in there at the time."

Feolin's eyes sparked as he was reminded of the occasion, and he huffed indignantly. "That wasn't funny, Legolas. The guards thought I was an assassin, and the king wouldn't take his eye off me for a month!" he exclaimed. Legolas laughed.

"Oh, come off it. You know you deserved it after that stunt you pulled during the annual hunt!" he countered. Feolin scoffed.

"How was I supposed to know that your horse would bolt like that?" he reasoned, throwing a particularly nasty glare at his elven counterpart.

The two friends bickered playfully, a monumental effort to forget the real reason they had traveled miles and miles through wind and snow. They did not want to remember the faces of the tortured victims that swarmed in their minds day in and day out, causing horrible nightmares and depriving the elves of much needed sleep.

For over three years now, elves from the kingdom of Mirkwood would travel through the mountains to Rivendell, were sent out to patrol the outer regions of the forest, or any other imaginable thing outside the elven refuge, never again to return. The inhabitants of the once Greenwood mourned the loss of their neighbors, but dismissed it as nothing more than an unfortunate incident, an accident, a coincidence, but over the years, the number of the missing slowly grew higher, and the days between the disappearances were less and less. The king had suspected something was amiss when an entire family of 4 was discovered missing, but had no clues as to where to begin searching. Perhaps the spiders that inhabited the corrupted forest were becoming bolder and more numerous, but deep in his heart he doubted that the answer would be that simple.

The answers to such dark happenings were never so simple.

Under the shelter of the rocky overhang, the two elven companions talked quietly now amongst themselves, opening their packs and removing various articles of clothing, a golden brooch, and a pair of rusty, haphazard manacles. Legolas and Feolin removed their outer tunics and stuffed them quickly back into their travel-worn packs. Feolin watched as Legolas donned plain white tunic adorned with a noble looking violet robe, which was fastened with the golden brooch. Gathering his long, blonde hair in his hands, he proceeded to wrap a golden silk scarf around his head, effectively constructing a makeshift turban. He felt around the area of his ears, making certain that the pointed tips were well hidden, when he turned with a regretful sigh toward his best friend, holding out the opened manacles. Feolin gave his long time friend a forced half-smile, holding out his wrists in silent permission. Legolas muttered a quick apology as he fastened the bindings loosely around his companion's wrists.

The Prince of Mirkwood stepped back, admiring his handiwork. For this ruse to work, the pair had to appear as if they were nothing more than a conceited Haradrim lord and an unfortunate elvish slave, traveling to negotiate a slave trade. The very idea fade the Prince feel sick to his stomach, but he supposed that at least in this case, the end justified the means.

Finally satisfied with their disguises, Legolas picked up both of their packs, which were now considerably lighter, and strapped them to Feolin's back. Legolas knew full well that no proper Haradrim noble would carry his own baggage if he had a slave at his disposal, and here appearances meant everything. He looked once more at Feolin, mussing up the elf's carefully braided hair for good measure. Feolin glared at Legolas' smirking face, and the two strode purposefully out of their temporary shelter, and back into the raging winds of the Misty Mountains.

o-o-o

Grandaen paced nervously in front of two enormous mahogany doors. He anxiously straightened his uniform overcoat with one hand, running the other through his hair simultaneously. He looked down the hallway to his right for the fifth, time in two minutes, wondering where in the name of Elbereth his employer was. The party from Harad would literally be arriving at any moment, and the middle-aged butler had no idea what he was supposed to do with the incoming guests. Vilgar had left strict instructions to let no one pass the doors, seeing as he was busy questioning an elf that had arrived earlier that day, but he seemed to have forgotten that he had some very important guests coming today.

Very important as in Grandaen's well being depended on his not messing up. Again.

But in this situation, the underpaid servant was truly in a dilemma. If he let the travelers in while his master was in the middle of an important matter, he would be thrown out into the raging blizzard, minus his protective clothing. If he caused the Haradrim to leave, however, the whole messy ordeal could turn deadly for him.

He gulped, glancing out the window once more and seriously considered running into the dungeons and locking himself inside the darkest cell, when he heard the lion-headed iron knocker signal that the long-awaited guests had finally arrived.

He sniffed sardonically. Long-awaited indeed.

Putting on the most cheerful face he could manage, Grandaen opened the great doors, bowing as two figures as different as night and day walked proudly through the opening.

The first man was dressed magnificently, with a golden turban made of silk and an expensive looking purple cloak. An intricate, gold and silver brooch in the shape of a palm leaf secured the violet cloak around his neck, marking him as one of noble descent, and he walked tall and proud. /His face surprised Grandaen, however. It was so…young. The man couldn't have been over the age of twenty-five, and he couldn't help but think to himself that the young lord looked much too pale to have originated in the deep south.

The being that trailed sadly behind the first was not a man at all, but an elf; a wood elf most likely from what the servant could tell. His chest was bare, covered in dirt and grime that smothered the unearthly glow that emanated from him. Grandaen averted his eyes from the elf almost as soon as he saw him. He never liked the way his master treated the ancient beings; in fact, he would have confronted Vilgar about it if he hadn't seen what had happened to the butler before him.

Shaking the horrible image from his head, Grandaen shut the doors and turned to the new arrivals.

"Welcome, Lord Bakadal," he said, bowing to the turbaned young man, "we have long been awaiting your arrival."

Well, I hope you liked this chapter. Yes, yes, to all you Cassia fans, I did steal the turban idea from her stories, but I take absolutetly no credit for it!! Translation: NO FLAMES!! Ha ha well anyway, once again I don't have time to salute all you loyal reviewers, but thank you so much for giving me some feedback!! It made me smile, LoL.

Ok, little preview for the next chapter: it involves a lavish dinner and not-so-obedient slaves. ;-)

All right, must now go study for finals. Pray for me, lol!!

Hasta luego!!

CzechChicka