A/N: YES! Yesyesyesyesyes! I finally managed to post within a month of my last update! (readers stare in disbelief) I'm soo proud of myself right now. RL and high school have made it very difficult, but here it is, the part of the last chapter you didn't get to read. Well, most of it anyway.
Oh, and my livejournal is up (not that I've written in it in favor of finishing this chappy for you, (grin)) and I've got an important question to pose that is going to greatly effect future updates. I'm leaving it up to you readers to vote if I should have shorter chapters (10-12 pages, approx.) and more frequent updates, or longer chapters (25-30 pages, approx.) and less frequent updates. My reasons for this will be put up on my journal hopefully tomorrow and you can put your votes up there. Obviously you don't have to vote but I'd appreciate it simply because I'm at a loss on which to choose so I'm going to let the readers decide what they want.
OK, I'm not going to torture you with anymore of my random ramblings. Vive le fic! (really bad French (cringe))
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings (happy, you copyright Nazis?) For more details, see the prologue.
Before the Storm, Part II:
Legolas couldn't believe it. When the Haradrim lieutenant had searched him and taken the documents he thought they had gotten the all. Apparently he'd been wrong. Here in his hands was the diagram of the camp he had found in one of the chests, the one paper of importance that hadn't been with the rest in the satchels. Looking at it now, it was way too thick for a single piece of parchment.
He threw another log on to the fire and stoked it, increasing the light so he could examine it now that he had the chance.
He unfolded it and began turning it over in his hands. The abnormal thickness was almost a sure sign that there was more than one document adhered together. Throw in the fact that they considered it important enough to sentence him to a slow death by scorpion venom all but confirmed in his mind that they had stumbled across something bigger than they originally anticipated, something that was definitely not in Gondor's best interest.
The night before they had left Minas Tirith, Legolas had snuck down to the library after the others had gone to sleep and had done some reading on the desert men and how they dealt with spies and intruders in general, and other little things like how they interacted with their superiors. Basically anything he hadn't been able to observe during the Ring War, which when he thought about it was actually a lot. He had come across a very interesting little paragraph about how the Southrons typically slew intruders and spies outright unless they thought they might have information that could be of use to them. The only time they ever sentenced a spy to a slow death was to make an example of him to his own side, which had not been the case in his experience, or if he had taken something of exceptional value or done something incredible heinous. This was doubly true for soldiers on the move.
Legolas was certain that the documents he had tried to take had far more to them, and the fact that the enemy was carting around a man-sized box of scorpions proved it.
Thumbing the corner of the parchment he thought he saw another layer peel back for a moment. Retrieving a knife from his quiver, he carefully used the edge to do the same as his thumb held the corner back slightly. Two pieces of parchment began to peel away from one another. The elf forced himself not to get excited and to continue to separate them slowly.
In the end he was paid off as four parchments came away from one another, but the excitement was short-lived.
With the exception of the one on top, the one the map was drawn on, there was nothing on them. Holding them in front of the fire yielded no hidden writing. Legolas huffed softly in frustration. If there was a moon out he would have tested them for moon-letters, but of course tonight was night of the new moon, so that idea was useless. Even if there was a moon he highly doubted the Haradrim knew how to create moon-letters anyway.
Aragorn might know a way to get the hidden writings to show themselves. If not him, then Gandalf or Elrond, the latter of the two was on the other side of the Misty Mountains where he belonged with his people, but Legolas was sure the Lord of Rivendell would not hesitate to come to his foster son's aid if the need was dire enough, and it most likely was. Legolas couldn't pin-point it, but looking at those parchments gave him a sick feeling in his gut. They weren't blank; every logical part of his mind was screaming at him that they couldn't be, not after everything that had happened. Something else was going on here.
He decided to go back and look at the camp diagram again. Something about it struck a chord in his memory, as if he had seen it before.
It showed row upon row of small blackened squares, some with hollow squares around them. The squares were divided by a dark line running down the center, and the border of the paper showed jagged lines sweeping off the paper, as if its maker wanted to show a sharp incline of land. Where the dark line ran off the paper at the top and bottom, these jagged marks stopped. Altogether it looked like some roughly circular setup, with small spears drawn to reveal guard posts.
Legolas could have sworn he had seen something like it before, but where? For a good half an hour he studied the page, wondering if it gave any clues as to where in Gondor or Harad there was a circle of hills with a stream running through it. Try as he might, though, he came up with nothing. The only thing he knew for sure was that these had to be taken to Gondor and put in Aragorn's safekeeping as soon as was physically possible, and the Haradrim had to be stopped from leaving. Looking at the map once more, a shiver raced up his spine, the exact same shiver he felt whenever he traveled near the Ephel Duath, the mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.
He pushed the horrible feeling to the back of his mind. He had to get to Faramir and these documents had to be taken back to Minas Tirith. Faramir would probably have a few choice words to say about it, but as soon as he informed the Steward about the situation, he planned to take the papers to Aragon himself.
He carefully folded the papers and put them in a pocket sewn on the inner lining of his quiver. Gathering the rest of his belongings, he decided that he had lingered to long to take the time to leave a note. He'd find the soldiers who helped him and thank them personally later.
On feet that could walk silently on dry leaves even with the brace he had on his leg, he crept out of his room and down the hall. But of course the Valar, with their twisted sense of humor, decided that leaving wouldn't be that simple. As he passed on room near the edge of the stairs, he heard the door open and saw a youth step out, but thanks to the ever cursed brace and his injured hip, he had no way of dodging successfully.
"Ooff!"
"Oww!"
"What the—AHHHH!"
Legolas winced, not at all happy to be assaulted not only by another person and the floor, but a loud scream as well, one that may not have woken the dead, but certainly woke the two men in the adjoining room.
"Gesan, are you alright?"
"What in the Void are you doing up, Elf!"
Legolas glared up at the two men standing over him. "I'm trying to walk down the stairs, if you don't mind. As much as I appreciate your kindness, there are things of great importance I must discus with Faramir."
He pushed the dazed youth—Gesan, apparently—off of him, and tried to stand. Unfortunately, the leg brace kept getting in the way.
Ossir came forward and helped Gesan to his feet, then reached for the wounded firstborn. "You're crazy if you think you're going anywhere. I doubt you could even get on a horse let alone ride all the way back to the main camp."
"I have to," Legolas gritted his teeth as his hip protested the sudden regiment of activity it was being put through. "Gondor's in more danger than we first though. He has to attack the Haradrim and stop any further activity from them now. I also managed to get some documents out of the camp that have to be gotten back to Aragorn as soon as possible."
"So let someone else take them," Hapsen growled. "You're staying here until your leg is strong enough to support you without that brace."
"I'm fine!"
The healer snorted. "Like the Void you are! Now back to bed. And what's with all this armor? You weren't planning on going into battle were you?"
Legolas sighed in frustration. "Before I realized what those documents were, I put it on in the event that Faramir asked for my aid in the attack."
Gesan looked at the elf in bewilderment. "You mean you were planning on taking the papers all the way back to the city even with your leg like that?"
Legolas looked at the boy, who promptly found the floor very interesting to look at. "Yes, I was. I'm the fastest rider here," he said. He frowned. Why was the boy so afraid to look at him?
"No, you're not."
All three turned to look at Ossir, who was studying the elf, appraising his condition. "I have no doubt that you're stubborn enough to get to the King, even in your condition. I've seen enough evidence of that already. But if these documents you say you found are really that important, then how can you be sure you can keep them safe along the way? The Southrons, unless they're very stupid, probably searched their camp after they found you. Am I right in saying that they caught you spying in their camp and caused those injuries?"
Legolas nodded.
Ossir wasted no time in continuing before the elf could say anything. "Be that the case they most likely know you have those papers. How can you be sure they haven't had some of their men sneak out of the camp and set up ambushes for anyone trying to leave? In your condition you can't fight them and get the papers back to the King. It's one or the other. Besides, you look too conspicuous, they'd see you and pick you off before you even had a chance to fight or try to run."
Legolas, as much as he wanted to, couldn't argue with that line of logic. The desert papers were too important, in his opinion. "Then pray tell what you suggest be done Master…?"
"Ossir," the man replied, then introduced Hapsen and Gesan. "As to what I recommend, well first I would say that you need to get back to bed and stop beating up on that leg while it's trying to heal itself."
He ignored the scowl the elf sent him for even hinting that he didn't know what was best for his injuries. "As far as the papers go, let Gesan take them."
"Me!" Gesan all but squeaked. At the strange look this got him from both the other humans and the elf, he cleared his throat and tried to look at least somewhat more mature. "Why would you send me? I'm sure my riding skills are no match for his."
Ossir shrugged. "Maybe not, but you're the fastest out of everyone here and you have a better chance of slipping through any traps that might be out there. There's also the fact that you're not injured, so if you do get into trouble, you can defend yourself long enough to get out."
"Very well sir," Gesan said, albeit a bit uncertainly.
Legolas was more than a bit leery about entrusting what he considered his task to anyone else. Looking at the boy though, he couldn't help but like the lad. There was something about him that reminded him of days that in his eyes were not long gone, days when he would spend weeks on end with Aragorn, his brothers and sometimes the other Dunedain out in the wilds, racing, hunting; just enjoying life. His instincts told him this kid's heart was exactly the same, that of a ranger. He'd just been stuck in a city too long to know it. 'Well,' he thought, 'I guess I could trust him, and Ossir is right.' He almost growled at that.
Retrieving the documents from his quiver, he handed them to the boy. "Tell the guards at the gates you have news of Linhinenet from Legolas Greenleaf, news that is for the king's ears alone. Give him the documents, and tell him that the blank ones I'm certain have a hidden message penned on them. The other I'm sure is a map of their main camp, and it's possible that it's in Gondor. He has to compare it with other maps to find out where it is. As to Linhinenet tell him we will be attacking the Haradrim. Before you ride to Minas Tirith I want you to stop in the main camp and tell Faramir that he has to attack the Haradrim and he cannot let any escape if he can avoid it. Tell him also to try and capture the leaders, they may have information we need."
Gesan nodded, digesting the elf's words and hoping he could remember it all. "I'll get my things and go now. " With that he whirled around and retreated back into his room. He emerged moments later with saddlebags, cloak and weapons. Ossir and Hapsen each hooked an arm around Legolas' waist, much to his annoyance, and began to lead him back to his room. Then his eyes lit up and he halted sharply, causing the two men to curse and nearly go off balance. "Gesan!" he called to the youth as he disappeared down the stairs.
"Yes, Legolas?" came back Gesan's disembodied voice.
"In the main camp there is a pale grey horse that goes without any harness. His name is Arod. When you get there leave your horse and take him instead. He is of Rohan stock and therefore of good heart and speed. He'll get you to Minas Tirith faster than any horse here can, and the guards there will recognize him. He may help you get to Elessar with less hindrance. When you approach him say 'Tollo Arod! Legolas requires you to assist me' and you will have his aid."
"Thank you, Legolas," the boy said, and Legolas paused again only to shout after him, "Take care of him, for he is a dear friend to me."
"I will!" came the reply, and then the young soldier bounded down the rest of the stairs and in minutes was out the door and heading for the stables.
"Now then, Elf," Hapsen growled. "If you are quite finished then I suggest you let us take you back to your room and this time you are going to say there."
"My name is not 'Elf'," Legolas growled back.
"It is if you don't obey me."
"Enough, both of you," Ossir sighed, "I refuse to listen to you two banter when I'm still sleep deprived. Hapsen, I thought you said that potion would keep him out longer than this."
"It was supposed to," Hapsen defended himself. By this time they had reached the elf's room, and the two helped Legolas over to his bed.
"Perhaps you should have mixed a dose suitable for an elf rather than a human then," Legolas couldn't help but quip.
"Perhaps you'd like to be poisoned again—"
"Enough!" Ossir had no desire to keep up with or listen to verbal banter at the moment. "You, act you age," he pointed at the healer, "and you," he pointed at Legolas, "armor off and into bed. Now!"
Neither argued with him.
Aswad Sem sat on his palate. With knife and skillful fingers he slit open the tails of each of the scorpions and drained the venom into a spare canteen he usually reserved for his enemies. Satisfied that he had enough, he added water and heathren root. It was not the variety of heathren root found in the deserts, but for a northern variety its characteristics were very similar and he was hoping its properties would be too.
Heathren root could not cure a poisoning, but it could keep whatever poison that was used dormant for a short while, making it very difficult to track a poison's origin. It also if put into a poisoned drink masked the poison's taste, if it had any, and made the victim even thirstier, leading them to drink more. Assassin' s Friend, it was known by in the south, for assassins like himself loved it. He loved it so long as it served his purpose.
The scorpion he had left living banged against the walls of its small prison. Aswad grimaced. If that thing drew any attention to his tent with its infernal grousing at being in a small space, he'd kill it, regardless of his plans for it. For now though his real concern was switching this canteen with his commander's. But once again, the elven spy had given him the perfect opportunity to pull this off and get rid of the old fool at last, something he was not about to pass up.
Making sure the cap was secured he attached the drinking vessel loosely to his belt and made certain it could be removed with little effort. He left his tent, and walked brusquely towards that of his superior.
He had noticed after his men had put the elf in the scorpion case that the most vital documents they had been escorting were gone, and had said nothing. He had no loyalties when it came to this group; let them all be killed by Elessar's men, for all he cared. He needed only to escape, and make his way north. Once he reached the main encampment, and told the officers there that a spy had infiltrated their camp and they had subsequently been wiped out. At that point he would whip out the remaining documents, and be praised for getting at least them there. That accomplished he could wipe them all out one by one until the Haradrim army was his.
He swept into the tent, ignoring his leader's protest. "Honored One, I have just discovered a distressing event. The spy from Gondor has escaped, and the map of our northern camp and the hidden messages with it are gone."
"What! How?"
"Elven witchcraft perhaps, for who knows for sure their tricky ways, or perhaps he has spied on our people before and rigged the scorpion case so he could escape if taken captive. Whatever the truth of the matter, I do not know, but I do know this: he has escaped, and the antivenom and papers are gone as well. I do not think it coincidence," Aswad kept his voice distressed, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. "Forgive me, Captain Rahjen."
Rahjen had been captain of his troop for years, and had during his career a good many seconds. Some of his lieutenants had gone on to be captains and been given command of their own troops, others had been killed either in battle or by circumstance, and a few had been reassigned. Only one had betrayed him, and Rahjen still felt the sting of that betrayal to this day. However even when the traitor had been found out, he had never felt the need to fear him, for he had suspected the treachery beforehand. This time he had reason to fear. Aswad Sem was regarded by most to have been bred to strike terror into the hearts of those he opposed, yet rarely could you tell just who those poor souls were until it was too late. If it were up to him, Rahjen would have gotten rid of Aswad a long time ago, but he had no proof to justify such an action, and he would not be so foolish as to give the others in his command reason to doubt him.
He sighed. He really was getting too old for this. If this campaign was a success he was seriously going to look into turning his command over to a younger captain and spend the rest of his days in retirement. At least if he retired he wouldn't have to deal with Aswad anymore. Some younger creature with a shrewder eye could. "Get the men together. We'll attack the gondorians tonight, and then we leave. Better that we show up with some of the papers than none at all."
"Yes Captain," Aswad bowed, and turned away. As he left he released the canteen at his side from his belt and in one move swept up Rahjen's, leaving the poisoned canteen in its place. A pouch with false documents that he'd prepared earlier replaced the one with the real documents, and he was gone into the night. Once his final orders were carried out, he had every intention of being across the river and away from Linhinenet when the two forces clashed. Any survivors from his side he would hunt down later.
The cat meandered through the kitchen, ignoring the smell of human sweat, ash, smoke, and the odd assortment of vegetables and meats. Personally he would rather eat raw mice for the rest of his days than anything that came out of this kitchen. Fortunately he wasn't hungry to begin with,not that he would be after walking through this…..area. At the moment his concern was using the elf to get Faramir. First though he would have to get the Steward here. The owner of this despicable place could be of use in this area, he certainly was greedy enough. All the cat would have to do would be to offer the right price, and then not give it to him, a tactic he employed whenever he could get away with it. And judging by what he had seen thus far of his intended messenger, he could more than get away with it.
The ginger feline exited the kitchen and found himself behind the bar. Leaping up onto said bar, he began to approach the stupefied tavern owner where he sat trying to collect his wits.
The human seemed not to notice him, so he sat and was about to say something when the boy he had seen in the elf's room earlier came crashing down the stairs. The noise grabbed the innkeeper's attention, and he whirled around, startled. "What's going on!"
"Sorry Master Cheman, I've got a message to take to Lord Faramir from the elf, Legolas, and I have to go quickly. Sorry again to have disturbed you!" With that he was out the door, leaving a bewildered Cheman and an ecstatic shape shifter behind.
The cat couldn't believe his luck. He jumped down from the bar and raced up the stairs, ignoring the puzzled look on the tavern keeper's face as he wondered where the feline had come from and when he had ever gotten a cat in the first place. Forget the innkeeper, the kid could do it all for him! And he wouldn't even have to reveal himself to him! He thanked whatever gods were listening and streaked into the vacant room at the end of the hall and out the window that still hadn't been closed.
He practically flew out of town and back into the woods, dark magic lending him unnatural speed. The cat reached his camp and started screeching orders without even bothering to change back to his human state. Three large hawks he ordered to pick up his books and take them back to Amon Hen, releasing the spell of repulsion he had placed on the tent to keep others but himself out. A warg was commissioned to destroy the lean-to and any evidence that it had ever existed.
The thirty remaining wargs were divided into two groups. Twenty minutes later, fifteen dread-looking Haradrim warriors sat mounted on fifteen malicious-looking horses.
"Now listen, you are to capture the Steward, and no one else. I will drive him from the battle and make him ride for the town. You will know him from the scent of my will on him, and kill any that accompany him. I want him alive and as uninjured as possible, understand?"
Horses and riders alike nodded.
"Good. You will regret it if you forget that or fail me. Now go! The Southrons attack as we speak!" he growled.
As a group the horses turned and bounded off through the trees, back the way the cat had come. Any who saw them would swear they moved as canines rather than equines, and their riders looked ready to eat any that crossed them on sight.
"Erd, come!" The cat released his form and for a brief moment was human again. Reopening the cut on his finger he mixed blood with the same herbs as before, speaking a different incantation this time. Erd dove out of the boughs of an oak only to have to rise through the canopy again at the side of a red-headed black eagle.
Gesan barely pulled his gelding to a stop before dismounting. Flinging the reins around the nearest tethering line, he raced over to one of the soldiers demanding, "Where can I find Lord Faramir? I have urgent news from Lord Legolas."
"What news?" the soldier asked, eyeing him skeptically.
"News regarding the Haradrim, more than that I cannot say," Gesan replied.
The older man still looked doubtful, but said "Very well, I'll take you to him. But mark me there'll be trouble if you're lying."
"Trust me, I'm not"
The soldier shrugged and began walking. The youth followed close behind, silently willing him to move faster. "For your sake I hope so, son."
An interminable two minutes later they arrived at a tent that seemed not unlike the others around it. "Wait here," his escort said. Gesan nodded his agreement, and the man announced himself quickly before ducking inside. Gesan tried not to fidget and occupied himself with looking around to see if he could perhaps spot the stallion Legolas had told him to find instead.
His attention was brought back to the tent when he heard a throat clear, and the soldier who had led him there exited, saying "You can go in," before leaving to return to whatever he had been doing before the younger soldier had shown up.
Gesan swallowed quickly, gathering his nerves as he lifted the tent flap and entered. Inside two men sat on thin mats, apparently they had been in the middle of a discussion. The one to his right looked at him with a stern gaze and said, "Where is the elf? If this news is so important then why didn't he bring it himself?"
"Hush Mennel! Let the boy speak." Kind hazel eyes regarded him, "What news have you?"
Gesan bowed to his superiors, his eyes never leaving Faramir. "Lord Legolas bade me to tell you that he has uncovered evidence that has led him to believe the Haradrim a bigger threat than simply trespassing on Gondor's lands, my lord. He says you must attack them and let none escape to return to their leaders. In addition he bade that you capture the leaders of the group across the river in case they have any additional information that could be of use."
"And just how does he propose that we do this? By the time we get ourselves organized for an attack the Haradrim will have noticed and we will be at a disadvantage," Mennel growled, not pleased at the absence of the elven spy to begin with, and even more irked that he sent a boy with orders for them as well.
"I trust that Legolas has very good reasons if that is his advice," Faramir said in a quiet voice, "and we are not so unconditioned to war that we cannot prepare quickly and try to draw the enemy over to our side of the river so we will not have to contend with the waters. In fact Mennel, why don't you go find Beregond and the two of you set to work on organizing the men now? I'll finish with this young man since there's no need for both of us to question him at this point."
The officer grumbled something under his breath and rose, saluting the Steward and barely sparing Gesan a glance as he left.
"Now then," Faramir said, "where is Legolas anyway? Has something ill befallen him that has delayed his return?"
"He is currently in the care of my mentor, Ossir, and our company's healer, Hapsen my lord. Ossir and myself found him outside the town. I mistook him for an enemy soldier and shot him in the leg. He had been captured by the enemy and escaped, for he had a dislocated hip and was suffering from scorpion poisoning as well. Hapsen and Ossir treated him and he will be well as soon as his leg has had time to mend. He tried to come himself but Hapsen feared he was still too unstable."
Faramir had a concerned look in his eyes, but let a small smile turn up the corner of his lips as he imagined just what that scene must have looked like; Legolas unsteady on his feet and still trying to shrug off the healer and make his way to the stables. "I don't suppose you know anything about this evidence he has found."
"Actually I do," Gesan said softly.
Faramir's whole body suddenly seemed to come to attention. "You do? Tell me."
Gesan was a little uncertain. Legolas had said that this information was for the king only. But at the same time he wasn't going to disobey a direct order from the Steward either. "He found papers, my lord. One with a map of a camp on it, several more that were blank that he's sure have hidden messages on them. He gave them to me and told me to take them to the king once I had delivered his message to you."
"Let me see them," Farmir said, reaching a hand towards the boy.
Gesan hesitated a second before handing them over. Faramir studied them as best he could, and found he could make out no more than the elf had.
"Legolas was right to want these taken right to Aragorn. He and the librarians should be able to make something of them, and a battlefield's no safe place for documents such as these," he handed them back to the young man. "Take care of them, and get them to the city as quickly as possible. Knowing Legolas he told you to tell no one but Elessar about them, and if not then that's my orders to you. You can tell the guards that if they give you any problems."
"Yes my lord," Gesan bowed.
"Come then," Faramir said as he rose from his seat, and Gesan noticed that he was fully ready for battle, swords, chain mail and all, as if he had suspected that was the course of action he would have to take. The other officer, Mennel, had only had his sword with him, as if he didn't think he'd be seeing any action, or was hoping he wouldn't.
Faramir led him outside. "You should leave immediately, and go quickly."
"Yes, my lord," Gesan replied again. "Oh, my lord?"
"Yes?"
"Know you where I might find a light grey stallion by the name of Arod?"
Faramir regarded him quizzically. "Why would you be looking for Legolas' horse?"
Gesan blushed in embarrassment. He shouldn't have bothered the Steward with such a thing, but it had just come out. "Before I left Legolas said to seek him out when I got here. He said that Arod would be swifter than my own and seeing me on him might help convince the guards to let me pass with less hindrance."
Faramir didn't know what to think of that. "He must have seen something in you that he really likes, boy. Legolas treats that horse as if he was his son, and he's really choosy about who gets to handle the creature, let alone ride him."
"Then you know where he is?"
"Oh course. He's tethered next to my horse. Got real fussy when the men tried to tie him too, spoiled animal." Faramir smirked in amusement. "Come with me and I'll take you to him."
When Gesan first saw Arod he knew without a doubt that this was the horse Legolas spoke of. The equine tossed his finely chiseled head and pawed at the ground when he saw them approach. Never before had Gesan seen such a fine animal, nor one so spirited, except for the few glimpses he had gotten of the great horse Shadowfax one time when he was on stable duty during his training while Gandalf rode through the city on his way to visit the king. Suddenly he felt nervous. Not only was he here to see the horse, he was expected to ride him as well!
Faramir stepped back and looked at him expectantly. Gesan forced himself to bury his unease and approach the fiery creature, who was now practically prancing in place at the light fear he sensed coming from this strange human that headed straight for him.
"Tollo, Arod. Legolas requires you to assist me," he said clearly, hoping the horse would obey like the elf said he would.
Arod's ears perked and he quieted, allowing Gesan to come near him. The young soldier reached out a hand, and the horse nuzzled it, snuffing to get a good whiff of his scent. With his other hand Gesan gently stroked the smooth mane and soft neck, ensuring that the horse knew he was friendly before tacking him and tearing out of there for the city. He stopped petting the horse and deliberately untied the rope that tethered the horse, then he turned and Arod followed him over to where Faramir stood.
The Steward was dumbfounded at the boy's obvious skill with animals. No wonder Legolas had entrusted him with his precious equine friend.
Suddenly Faramir had a sudden feeling that he should go speak with Legolas about what he had observed, to better prepare them fin case they should have to engage the Southron's on 'their' side of the river. Gesan watched confused as the Steward threw his horse's tack on and mounted. "My lord?"
"I am going to pay Legolas a visit and ask him a few questions regarding his observations in the camp," he nodded his head towards Arod. "Tack him and leave as soon as you can. I must say you have quite a gift with animals, young one. Legolas chose well when he decided to let a stranger ride his horse."
With that he turned and trotted off. Gesan was too stunned for a moment to speak. That was a compliment he certainly wasn't expecting. Neither was he expecting Arod to shove his head into his back as if to say 'you heard him, let's go!'
Ten minutes later he had his saddle on the Rohan stallion's back and managed to find a girth that fit him, his own being too big. Fortunately with a few adjustments he got his bridle to fit the elegant head, though Arod seemed far less than thrilled at having to wear such restraints after wearing almost nothing of the sort for so long since becoming the mount of one of the firstborn. Nevertheless he put up with it since Legolas needed him to help the boy who was clumsily climbing onto his back. Finally Gesan was fully mounted, and had to hold back a shout of surprise as he found that it took only the slightest pressure from his heels to send the horse into a gallop.
He leaned back and put some pressure on the bit, slowing the horse and pacing him so that he could better accustom himself to the pace and not hurt himself. Arod's gait was amazingly smooth and flowing, and as they slowed even more for the treacherous path through the woods, he found himself wishing he could ride the horse just for fun, instead of in the dark for such an urgent purpose.
TBC…
A/N: AAARRRGGGG, evil, evil RL! This chapter should have been at least a few pages longer and there were two more scenes I wanted to put in too. (pouts) Oh well, next time I guess. At least it was longer than the last one.
This whole post has kind of been a stealth mission since my mom thinks I'm asleep and would kill me if she knew I was still up so I'm going to keep the review responses short. Thank you so much everyone who sent one. (grin)
Review Responses
SeeStar: I like your new name. Me? Like reader-torture? Lol, I guess I need to hide it better, huh? (sheepish grin)
Lindahoyland: I know cats are used a lot in reference to shape shifters and witches and all, but it's a common animal and easy to get characters to overlook, so I used it for its convenience, just like the character did. I'm so glad you like the story so much and yes I'm aware of that little oversight regarding the soldier's way of addressing Faramir. It's a typo I have to go back and fix.
Star-Stallion: Yes, I get migraines so frequently I'm on prescription medication for them. They're horrible. I sent you the story info to that address you said was on your bio. If you still didn't get it I'll put it up on my bio so you can just copy it from there. Then once you've gotten it I'll take it down.
Setrinan: Nope, I didn't leave it hangin! Well, not for too long anyways. You like the transformation? Yay! Umm, right now I don't think there's a traitor in Faramir's camp, but who knows? Maybe in the future.
Booklover Fanatic: I can so sympathize with not being able to send a response to a fic you absolutely love. Sucks, doesn't it? Not being able to find a story you're hooked one does too. Yea, I wish I had more reviews too, but I'm grateful for the ones I've got, so it's ok. Maybe I'll get more once the story picks up and if I can start updating more frequently. And thanks for 'highly recommending' this story, I'll be grinning like an idiot for hours now, lol.
Kelsey Estel: He's getting better! And Faramir's not as clueless anymore. Hey, you didn't have to yell at me to update this time. Bet you're happy. It didn't even take months too. Yes I know that last chapter ending was evil, but I couldn't make you guys wait any longer. Hmmmm, a sequel… that depends. (evil grin) Do you want one?
Deana: Yup, I'm getting better with this whole 'give the readers another chapter and don't be too long about it thing'. I am kinda mean to Legolas aren't I? Don't worry, Aragorn and Faramir and the rest'll get tortured in some way or another too before this is over.
Ok guys, you all know reviews get me to write faster, so please? (gives cute Puss in Boots eyes) And please vote on the story length as well? If you really don't want to go over to my livejournal page you can leave a vote on a review, that works as well.
Nemarie for now and thanks for all your support my friends!
