A/N: Well I promised you an update, and here it is. Pathetically short little thing isn't it? I completely forgot a little class of mine that only meets for two weeks each half of the semester (for a grand total of four weeks) and adds three hours onto my day during the week, and meets weekend days for five hours with a two to two and a half lunch break. So in short, writing time's been scarce, but I manage to give you something, even though it's being posted at 12:09 in the morning on the 13th, rather than the 12.

And for those of you reading my muse's newest piece of boredom-induced insanity, Where Will You Go, the next update will be no later than the 19th.

And now, I give you your chapter.

-

Chapter 13: Interlude to Night

-

Gandalf wasn't going to kill Pippin. Really, he wasn't.

Said hobbit came into view carrying a stack of books far too tall and heavy for him to possibly be able to handle. He danced from side to side on the balls of his feet as the stack rocked back and forth, threatening to fall. Gesan, who was reaching up to take down a text that had caught his eye, was forced to press himself against the bookcase as flat as his body could become in order to avoid the hobbit as he staggered by.

At the table situated off to one side of the room Gandalf, Arwen and Frodo sat, each with several texts around them. "Just what are we looking for again, Gandalf?" Frodo couldn't help but ask.

"Anything to do with magic, my boy. In particular the art of shape-changing, and giving animals the ability to speak tongues other than their own."

"Is that what you think that bird was, Mithrandir?" Arwen queried, as she set one book aside and reached for another. "A creature in disguise?"

"I have my suspicions," the wizard murmured as a particular passage caught his eye, and he tilted the book up so his old eyes could see it better.

"But I thought Saruman and Sauron were the only ones who would do such a thing, and they're both dead," Pippin gasped as he finally managed to join them. Arwen's and Frodo's eyes widened as they saw the load he was carrying, and jumped up to help him.

Sadly, however, their efforts were too late, as the young hobbit finally lost control completely, and tripped. The heavy tomes went flying, several of them straight at the wizard, who was too engrossed within the book he held to realize the danger.

"Pippin!" Frodo yelled, as he reached out and grabbed his cousin by the shirt collar, holding him mere inches from falling flat on his face, while Arwen dove across the table. "Mithrandir!"

The White Wizard started and looked up just in time to see a particularly heavy book coming right for his head, but before he could make a move to dodge or deflect it a pale hand came into view from his right, and the tome in his hands was ripped from them and slammed back onto the table. As she landed on top of Gandalf's book, the volume still heading for his face came within her reach, and the Evenstar grasped it, stopping its flight ere it could strike her old friend.

"Nice catch, my Lady," Gesan congratulated as he joined them. Arwen smiled faintly as she let the book fall harmlessly to the floor, and slid off the top of the table, straightening her dress and her hair as she stood, making herself look presentable once more.

"Confound it, Peregrin Took!" Gandalf yelled as he glared at the small hobbit who was busy gathering up the fallen texts with Frodo's help. "After everything that you encountered during the war I would have thought that you'd have learned a little sense, to say the least!"

"My apologies sir," Pippin murmured, as he set the now gathered books on the table. "I was only trying to bring all the books I thought would be of use from the eastern section."

"Well next time bring them a few at a time rather than all at once, and we won't have a repeat of this mess."

"Yes, Gandalf," at the wizard's nod of acceptance, they all sat down and began to read once more. Out of the corner of his eye, Gandalf watched Gesan. How the boy interacted with those around him, how he was affected by them; how they were by him. The more he observed, the more he became certain that his initial assessment of the young lad was correct. He had only one more test, before it was proven beyond all doubt, and should his suspicions prove correct, the young human's life was going to take quite a drastic turn indeed.

Pippin, in the meantime, had gotten comfortable by leaning his chair back on two legs, and bracing it by placing his feet against the table's edge. His knees began to get tired with the angle they had to apply force against the table at, so he straightened them a bit.

And promptly the chair overbalanced and fell backwards, sending book and hobbit flying backwards into the nearest bookcase with a crash. The force was just sufficient enough to send the bookcase toppling over into the one behind it. Books and paper flew everywhere, as everyone just stared in amazed and horrified fascination.

Gandalf groaned and put his head in his hand, suddenly too tired to support it.

He wasn't going to kill Pippin, really he wasn't. Just hurt him a little.

With his hearing being what it now was, Ossir had little trouble finding a water source for the two of them. Ever was there the sound of a waterfall, and quite a large one at that, for the closer he got the more it deafened him. Periodically he would glance back to make certain Legolas was still with him, and once gave himself a considerable fright when he looked back to find the blood-covered fox practically standing over him.

After that Legolas put more distance between them, and as the morning wore on the squirrel began to get increasingly worried. The fox spoke not a word, and the fire in his eyes seemed dimmed, as though he wasn't really all there. Ossir recognized that look, he'd seen it enough times in young warriors the first time they encountered a battlefield, and became privy to the full extent of the carnage found there. Their minds would become fixated on that one horrible image, and they were oblivious to all else. If not properly cared for, some would loose their nerve completely, never to get it back again.

Ossir could see that within the fox's eyes. He couldn't fathom that he could cause such damage using no more that speed, teeth, and claws, and was scared of himself. Frightened of what he was capable of doing should he be in his right mind when he attacked, rather than driven by blind instinct.

'And wise he is for that. Small though they may be, foxes are fierce hunters and survivors. And just as fear can keep a soldier alive on the battlefield, it can help the two of us to stay alive and hopefully get out of this mess alive as well. Now I need only to get him to see that.'

It was as he was thinking this that they came to their destination. The trees opened up, and Legolas couldn't help but think himself a fool for not recognizing where they were sooner. Nen Hithoel, the massive lake formed behind the natural dam caused by Tol Brandir, splayed out before them like a watery gem underneath the late morning sky. Its peaceful lapping against the shores of Parth Galen was a soothing balm to the terror his actions had bestowed upon him. He now finally heard clearly the trees behind him whispering, welcoming him back.

His spirits brightened, and he leapt passed his companion and bounded into the water, splashing and playing in the cool current as the blood and stress washed away, and with them for the moment his cares and worries.

Ossir watched him, smiling as best as his new form would allow as he watched the antics of the immortal. Was Legolas still immortal as he was? Ossir decided that for the moment it didn't matter, as the fair being enjoyed the brief respite he'd been given. Such things could be addressed later, he mused, as for now it was best they enjoy what time they were given to enjoy, before the pressures and uncertainties and problems presented to them demanded attention once more.

Bounding to the water's edge he began to wade in after the vulpine. "Ack, 'tis cold! How can you stand this?"

"I don't care, that's how, picky squirrel!" Legolas called from where he was now swimming into deeper water.

"Flighty creature, get back here before you're swept off over the falls!"

Laughter was all he received in response. Eventually he did get to swim, when Legolas decided he was tired of Ossir's slow acclimation to the water and picked him up and gave him a thorough dunking before having to promptly return to deeper water to avoid being tackled and bit by the irate creature.

They stayed that way for much of the day. For Legolas it was a means to regain his composure and inner peace. For Ossir it was a way to pass the time in a more constructive way than pointless brooding. There was nothing that could be done until nightfall, so swimming gave them a better means to occupy themselves.

In the late afternoon, as they lay in the grass resting before reality took over once more, Legolas gave a sad chuckle. "He used to call me that," he mused.

"Hmm?" Ossir murmured, from where he lay curled, half asleep.

"You called me a flighty creature before. That was one of the things the dwarf Gimli called me."

Ossir cracked an eye open. "You let him call you that?"

"Yup," Legolas replied. "And I gave him an equal share in return."

The squirrel laughed. "Go to sleep, fox. We leave at sunset."

-

TBC…

-

A/N: Well, at least they had a little fun before everything goes back to the wargs. Again, so to speak. The next chapter will be longer, as I will be on spring break as of Friday afternoon. Yay! So on the 27th, which is a Monday since that weekend I'll be too busy to post anything, look for the next one, in which we find out the meaning behind Roklem's cryptic remark, Faramir gets better acquainted with his room coughcellcough mate, and Aswad decides he's bored and has to come back into the picture. See ya then.

Reviews are as always appreciated and encouraged, and the responses to last chapter's reviews are on my livejournal page. They were put up right after this was posted, so by the time you read this they will be there.