Disclaimer: Same as always, I own very little.

Chapter Quote: "This last part was written in blood." He said. "The smell lingers still- it is fresh."

Chapter Thirty-Three

Darkness

The venison was good, and the fire was warm. The five guards ate silently, sometimes speaking quietly among themselves in Sindarin. They were all rather young yet, and Legolas thought perhaps speaking in a more familiar tongue eased them. He didn't really know and didn't consider it his business to ask. He and Aragorn were sitting a ways from the fire. He sat astride a log, polishing his twin, ivory-handled knives. Aragorn was stretched out on the rich earth, facing Legolas by leaning on his side.

It was silent...uncharacteristic of Mirkwood. They had not yet reached the spiders' territory, but normally you could hear elven voices, their songs drifting through the eaves of the ancient trees. But not they were too far from the palace to hear many voices as one would normally. No, not this night. Not even the wind could be heard rustling through the trees nor did any creature make a sound. It was eery...silent and eery. Legolas shook his head, the gold locks glimmering gently in the light, his grey eyes flashing.

They would sleep in the open air, it did not look like it would rain- not this night anyway. He had, had his fill of venison after a mouthful or two, but Aragorn was still picking absentmindedly at the bones leftover from his own meal. While studying his friend, Legolas began to notice that the latter's hair was starting to turn slightly...grey? Was it possible?

Aragorn caught Legolas' piercing gaze, and with a smile, ran a hand subconsciously over his beard. "Do I look so old to your eyes?" He asked in jest, Legolas smiled in reply.

"Never." It would not due to think as his friend as an old man. Aragorn would always be the cocky young man he had met in Rivendell so many years ago. "How does Arwen fare? I had not the chance to ask when I last saw her." He added, as if the thought had only just surfaced to his mind.

Aragorn grinned proudly. "Four months and counting." He replied.

Legolas smiled, opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly heard the sharp snap of a twig from somewhere in the darkness behind him. Both men jumped up, startled. The elven warriors stopped their merry-making. All falling silent. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Aragorn slide his hand down to the hilt of his sword. Legolas' fingers were already brushing the smooth wood of his bow. He stepped forward and he could hear Aragorn's mouth opening to halt him, but he would do no such thing.

He rushed forward, his eyes concentrating on the shadowy shapes of the brush ahead. He drew out his bow and fitted an arrow in one fluid movement, done thousands of times over hundreds of years. He was standing in front of the brush, and he drew back the branches, the arrow trained...but there was nobody there. No sign that anyone had ever been there at all. He lowered his bow in puzzlement, casting his gaze surrounding the surrounding forest, peering into its depths before he drew back. "Nothing." He said. "There's nobody here."

He heard a faint humming approaching him with rapid speed, he turned, saw a blur moving towards him, whistling through the air. He jerked back, flinching as the blur hit the tree behind him with a thump. An arrow...it still twitched with the force of the blow. Aragorn did not answer his friend, was staring instead at the arrow which had missed Legolas' head by only a hair's breath.

"You all right?" He asked slowly, almost in disbelief.

Legolas stared at the arrow, his eyes boring into the roughly hewn shaft. "Fine." He said. "I'm fine."

"Milord?" One of the guards called, Legolas turned to him and found the elf staring at the arrow and pointing. Legolas drew closer to it. It was a black arrow...finely crafted he noted as he got a better look at it. Its trimmings were etched in glowing silver. And attached to the arrow, was a piece of parchment. He neared the tree, slinging his bow over his shoulders. He removed the arrow, tore the parchment from it and studied it. The parchment was old and worn, as it it had been used before. There were faded black letters upon it in, written in no particular order. But in a fresher hand was a note, printed clearly in Tenqwar.

Foolish Prince,

This maybe your forest - but you do not belong. There are many enemies approaching your camp from the south. They carry flags of old, and the stench of their black magic precedes their footprints. They came here before - long ago. And slaughtered many of your people. They will not spare mercy towards you.

This is not your forest-

Here the writing faltered, as if the author's hand had become suddenly weak. Then it continued, only the letters was written less clearly and the ink was a dark red.

Leave before it is too late. I have warned you and I will not be able to save you. Go from here. Leave.

Here the writing stopped. Legolas peered closely at the shaky writing, pondering over the message. "What is it Legolas?" Asked Aragorn from behind him. Legolas handed him the letter and he waited for his friend to read its contents. Aragorn frowned, brought the letter to his face and sniffed.

"This last part was written in blood." He said. "The smell lingers still- it is fresh."

"It is telling us to leave." Legolas said quietly, brooding the letter aloud.

"But it is not a threat milord." Said one of the guards, who could read the letter from where he stood six paces away. "It think it is a warning."

Aragorn and the others glanced searchingly into the forest, but its awning and decaying trees revealed nothing. And the company was plunged once more into silence.

"Perhaps we should retire for the time being." Legolas said softly, still staring into the depths of the forest. He adjusted his bow, sliding the arrow both his own and the black arrow into the quiver.

"Milord- what shall be our next plan of action then?" Asked one of the guards, his dark eyes glinting nervously in the shadows.

"We shall continued as planned." Replied Legolas, turning to address them all. "I'll take first watch, I'll wake one of you in a few hours." He knew none of them would mind. Elves need very little sleep. It would be Aragorn, though, who would insist to have the next watch. Legolas knew this as he nodded towards his friend.

None of them argued as they stretched out their bedrolls by the fire. Maybe he too would be weary in a few hours, but he was too shaken at present. Someone didn't like them being here. Someone wanted to stop their search. No one spoke as Legolas took a rigid stance at the edge of the camp.

And no one was awake very long after that. But Legolas stayed up long after, and did not wake his friend until long after the fire had burnt down to smoldering ashes.

Five Years Previous
I was waking up and I didn't want to. My olfactory nerves were suddenly bombarded with the sharp smells of various herbs. For one sweet moment I thought I was back at the flet with Mirlaic...but then the pain came. I didn't want to wake- who are you?

The old man hovering above me was not Mirlaic. Mirlaic was dead. They were all dead. Why wasn't I dead too? Let me die.

I'm taking care of you, he said. You don't have to be afraid. But I wasn't afraid, I was angry. I wanted vengeance, I wanted death, I wanted... No. He said firmly. You will find healing here. He pointed upward, urging me to follow the direction of his hand with my eyes. I stared at the glittering ceiling above me. Star Trees, there was only Star Trees. Glittering beautifully like they used to do in Gilloth. I could almost hear Mirlaic's gentle voice whispering to me of them, but no. I didn't want to think of Mirlaic either. Ugh, why did I hurt so much? Why was the pain so strong? Everywhere...tearing me to pieces...Dead. I said. They're all dead.

But the old man wasn't listening to me. He was humming, and I was soon lost in the glittering eves of the Star Trees. My eyes swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, to the sound of his voice.

I didn't care anymore- back and forth- and soon sleep came.

- Back and forth -

Nothing out of the ordinary happened on Legolas' watch. And by dawn, Legolas awoke with the disgruntled feeling of new problems arising as their journey in the darkness continued. He arose with the sun, as did the others, and immediately set off north in search of the stream they had crossed before their arrival at the clearing.

He felt dirty, not having bathed or cleansed his face in a number of days. Maybe the cool water will clear my head. He thought wistfully. The waters in the woods of Mirkwood were indeed enchanted, spells having been cast upon them since before even the youngest days of his father. However, the enchantment did not generally affect any of the fair folk and he was confident, if not careless, in his trust of the dark waters which ran through the forest like blood. He knelt by the stream, twenty or more feet away from their camp and splashed water on his face.

They would have to leave within the hour. They would head Southeast, hoping to find some trace of Saronedhel or the ghostly maiden: Gwenél. Balamrún had said he had encountered the maiden in the north. But thus far, every indication said that Saronedhel had traveled South. So South...or Southeast...it was. He did not care much for the message left by the mysterious intruder the night before. And if enemies had indeed entered the forest unbeknownst to himself or to his father. It was his duty to discover why and who they were. So they would travel Southeast, and then, provoke the ghost's legendary anger and push North into 'her' territory.

It was simple, practically planned. But he still feared the possibility of discovering nothing of those whom they sought. And at present, failure was his greatest fear. He rose, straightening himself and turning to return to camp. But he paused as something caught his eye...red, staining the green of the forest floor.

A few drops, staining the earth below. He knelt, peering closely at it. He touched the stain, brought his fingertips to his nose- blood. It was blood. He was sure of it. He looked up, spying more, almost mirroring the path he had taken to get to the stream only moments before- how could he have missed it? He walked carefully, not averting his gaze from the trail of blood. Here and there twigs had broken and leaves had been crushed where the perpetrator had stumbled-probably growing weaker- from loss of blood.

And then the trail had stopped at a thick cluster of brush. He stared intently at the ground, trying to interpret the markings. There was a lot of blood here, drops and splashes littered the ground as if the person had tried to unsuccessfully stem the bleeding. So the intruder had been wounded, and from the looks of things, had been in this very spot for a number of hours. Had left only recently in fact.

"Legolas...have you found anything?"

He looked up with a start, and found himself looking in surprise into the face of Aragorn. The camp had nearly been disbanded, the warriors were packing up the horses. This was where he had heard the noise the night before, this was where he had searched. Only the night before. He felt himself grow cold. It was impossible, but until shortly before, the intruder had sat at the edge of camp, perhaps for the who night, and hand only watched...and waited. How often had his eyes drifted to this very spot? How often had he strained his ears and heard nothing besides the fire and his own breathing? How could he have not seen or heard anything? No, it was impossible! And yet here was the evidence, here were the signs.

"I believe we have made one thing very clear." Aragorn said softly as he knelt to examine the tracks. He looked up at Legolas, "Someone knows we're here."

The scowl now formed on the prince's face as he glanced back at the trail of blood. "Can you track that?" He asked Aragorn, pointing to the blood which splattered the dark earth. Aragorn followed Legolas' hands, he nodded, working his jaw as he thought.

"I can." He said simply, rising as he did so.

"Good." Replied Legolas. He gestured to the guards and then to the horses. "We're moving out."

They walked the horses, unwilling to miss any signs. Aragorn walked on foot, his horse trailing behind him. The trail of blood ran past the stream where Legolas had first discovered it. The blood was beginning to dry and sometimes only Aragorn's eyes - skilled in the ways of tracking - found where their prey had gone. They way was long and they remained silent.

All felt the strange presence in the forest, the strange sense of foreboding silence. It was difficult to ignore. The trees felt...compressed. As if every creature in the forest was either holding its breath or panting. Sometimes, Legolas thought he could hear faint whisperings in the trees.

They walked on for hours and hours- well into midday and then on into the night. Until it became too dark and Aragorn halted them for fear of missing some hidden mark. They slept under the trees that night and did not dare to risk a fire. Legolas again took the first watch, but did not bother to wake his companions when his time was up. He fingered the medallion which he kept ever around his neck and under his tunic. He had a strange feeling that he would be spending many sleepless nights in the forest as long as their search continued.

They traveled at the same pace as the previous day. They did not speak, and the only sound heard among them was the dull plodding of the horses' hooves and Aragorn's occasional rustling of a bush or tree branch. How long would they search these woods? Months? Years? Aragorn could not wander the forests of Mirkwood forever. He had a wife and child to return to. Already the time was drawing near when Aragorn would have to return to Gondor.

But Legolas, what did he have to return to? He had no lover, no family other then his father. He had Ithilien. He had Aragorn, Arwen, and the twin sons of Elrond. Would he search forever for the answers to his endless questions? He searched deep in his mind for the reasons of their quest once again- they were becoming increasingly blurred in his mind.

Saronedhel had escaped and Gwenèl had attacked again with a greater force then she had ever had before. He wondered how the warriors fared now. How many days had it been since their departure? Four? Maybe five? Had any more of his people been attacked? Would they die in his absence? Would they die because of his failure to track down and stop the ghost? His anxieties were beginning to fog his mind. The endless questions seeking answers he had not the power nor strength to find. He was aware suddenly that he was tired, very tired.

He closed his eyes for a moment, felt the horse slowing beneath him. He was at the end of the line, the guards were all following behind Aragorn closely, he could hear them speaking in low tones to the human just up ahead. A sudden, sweet, whispering melody made him pause to listen. He didn't know where it was coming from and he did not care, did not want to care. The horse stopped and the melody drifted like mist into his mind.

Have you walked into the forest?

Have you smelt the evening breeze?

Will you wade into water?

Walk beneath the awning trees?

"Milord?" The guard tapped his arm and made the melody soften. No- come back. He thought urgently. Legolas looked at the guard in frustration. "Are you well milord?"

"Do you not hear it?" Legolas asked, voice sharp with an irritated edge.

"Hear what milord?" The guard asked in confusion, reining his horse in beside his own. The trees had started to sway, the wind picking up. The others had stopped and the melody was coming backina distinctly feminine voice. High, clear, resonating, and haunting. She was sad, in despair. Her words aching and sorrowful. They were all looking around now, and he knew then that they could hear it too.

When we whisper you shall listen,

And a warning you must hear.

With your footsteps there lies danger,

You must leave...it draws near.

They gazed around in wonder and for a moment, Legolas thought he could see a maiden walking through the trees. She was radiant and soft, her face hidden by locks of long dark hair. Her figure was glowing, she was clothed all in white. One hand was outstretched, as if searching- but then she was gone...she had disappeared.

Aragorn called out sharply to him, "Legolas! The trail- it is gone!"

Legolas' grey eyes snapped ahead, focusing on Aragorn, his gaze spinning. He felt light-headed, the weariness closing in on him rapidly. The human was searching the brush frantically, seemingly unaffected by the maiden.

Legolas never had time to look for the owner of the voice, or even to reply to Aragorn's alarming revaluation. He heard a cry from the guard at his side, and he heard the horses screaming in fright. Something hit his side with a dull thud and a blast of pain - searing through him and then hitting again in his shoulder. He slid from Arod's back, groping for something to hold onto but finding nothing. Light erupted in his eyes as he hit the ground. He looked up, and he wondered how in all of Middle-earth the attackers had struck so swiftly. A face appeared above him, grinning maliciously and licking its lips. An orc...how was that possible?

"We've been looking for you." It snarled, and a booted metal foot kicked him in the side. The light erupted again and he cried out. "We've been looking for you for a very long time."

He couldn't fight back as the pain begin to steal away his consciousness. He realized again as he slipped into darkness that this was the second time he had been ambushed in such a manner-the first time with Faerlain.

And again, men would die because of him.

A/N: I have had a series of reviews for the last chapter, which I am very happy about, and have gained some new readers! Welcome all! You have no idea what kind of inspiration I get when I find out people actually READ my work. :) I have finals coming up, so updates will be spread out and rather random for the next two weeks. Just felt I should warn you. I will reply to any an all questions asked about SIMA, thanks to the lovely gadget the FF team added to the site. So, I love reviews will something a little more meaty then, 'great! Update soon!' So, don't be afraid to speak:)

Happy belated Thanksgiving all! And a Happy Advent to all my fellow Catholics out there. Thanks a million to my beta, Kiann, and I'll try and get the next chapter up soon:)

TO BE CONTINUED...