Disclaimer: I own them, I own them all! Mwahahaha! Or not, either way.
A/N: A huge apology for the lateness of this chapter. I had huge writer's block for ages and ages and then, when I finally figured out what I wanted to write, university decided to rear its ever so ugly head. Review responses should be up either later today or tomorrow, as soon as I've finished editing the essay which I've been squeezing round writing this chapter. Hope you all enjoy the new (though decidedly late) chapter!
----------
Chapter 8: A Brandybuck and a Took
Meriadoc Brandybuck shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets and ducked his head further into his collar in a vain attempt to ward off the cool chill which was sweeping down off the mountains which surrounded the Last Homely House. Stonily, he studied the ground beneath him, watching as his feet sullenly scuffed the damp earth draped over with leaves. A sharp nudge however, made him glance up and glare at his cousin, who was walking beside him. "What was that for?" he demanded angrily, scowling at the other hobbit.
Pippin stared at him curiously, his curly hair shifting in the soft wind. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong," Merry retorted grumpily.
"Yes, there is."
"No, there's not."
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Is."
"Isn't."
"Is!"
The two hobbits glared at each other, until finally, Merry shrugged, and nodded his head towards the various tall figures around them. "I just don't see why Strider had to bring all them along," he muttered.
"The elves?" Pippin questioned, glancing at the half-dozen elven warriors who walked on either side of the hobbits, making not a sound between them as they scoured the surrounding woods for any sign of trouble.
Merry nodded silently, his scowl darkening as Pippin cocked his head in thought.
"Well, they're here to protect us, aren't they?" the young Took reasoned. "In case of trouble and all that."
Merry snorted. "We're not children, Pippin!" he retorted angrily. "I don't see why they seem to think that we need to be watched every minute of every day!"
"Whose they?"
"Them! Strider and Legolas. Even Boromir does it," hissed Merry, ducking his head towards the broad-shouldered man who strode along on the trail just behind them, right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. When Pippin just looked at him as though he were crazy, Merry shook his head and tugged his coat further around him. "You just don't get it, Pippin, do you?" he grumbled.
Clearly realising that his cousin was not in the best of moods, Pippin shrugged and dropped back until he fell into line alongside Boromir, apparently having decided to seek better company. Merry scowled to himself as the sound of the Man's deep baritone intermingled with his cousin's inquisitive questions. Sullenly, he returned his gaze to the damp ground and continued his staring competition with the multitude of scattered leaves.
After many a day of the cousins' pleading, Strider had finally relented and agreed to take the hobbits out to explore the forests surrounding Rivendell. He had insisted however, that Legolas and the twins accompany them, a condition to which Merry and Pippin had happily agreed, having quickly come to enjoy the company of the three graceful elves. However, when the two hobbits had arrived in the main courtyard of the Last Homely House where it had been arranged that they would meet, a company of six elven warriors had been waiting for them, checking their light armour as they murmured quietly amongst themselves. The Man, Boromir, had also been there, sword in hand and round shield slung over his back as he waited a little apart from the elves, watching all that was going on around him with grim, serious eyes.
Merry had glowered at Aragorn as he and Legolas had arrived, followed minutes later by the twin sons of the Lord Elrond Halfelven. Catching the hobbit's glare out of the corner of his eye, and fully aware of the reasoning behind it, Aragorn had returned the gaze innocently as he tugged at the straps which bound his sword sheath around his waist and slid a narrow dagger into his left boot. "They were bored," he had said with a shrug, gesturing to the small army gathered in the courtyard. Needless to say, Merry had been less than impressed at this 'coddling,' as he termed it, yet had found himself unable to protest, reluctant to make a fuss in the company of the lordly elves before him.
As he walked along the rough trail which brushed through the woods which surrounded the Last Homely House, Merry's sharp eyes picked up the undertone of low voices in front of him at the head of the party, where Aragorn son of Arathorn and Legolas Thranduillion strode side by side, keeping an even pace with one another. Every now and again, one would murmur something to the other in a barely distinguishable whisper. Surreptitiously, Merry quickened his step until he was as close as he could be to the two friends without stepping on their heels, and listened carefully, hoping to pick some new information about the fast-approaching quest, to add to the bits and pieces which he and Pippin had managed to scavenge from several conversations which, he reckoned, were probably not meant for their ears. His efforts were in vain however, for the two friends spoke in a language which Merry did not know; a melodious, lilting, tongue which seemed to blend with the rustling of the woods around them. Disgruntled, the hobbit dropped back until he was alongside Pippin once again, and continued his staring competition with the earth beneath him.
-----------------
A few feet ahead of the brooding hobbit, the prince of Mirkwood turned to the man who strode by his side. "When do you think that the periannath will realise that you have been leading us around in circles for the past hour?" Legolas asked the ranger, blue eyes gleaming softly in amusement, yet always maintaining their sweeping journey over the tall trees which surrounded the small party, mindful of any potential dangers even within the sanctuary of Imladris.
Sharp grey orbs gazed back at him, protesting the ranger's innocence without a word having to be uttered.
"I may not be quite as skilled a tracker as you are," continued Legolas, when the man did not answer. "Yet there are limits. We have passed that tree three times now."
"Yet always from a different direction," was the smooth reply.
Legolas raised a dark eyebrow ever so slowly until, finally, Aragorn shrugged.
"The hobbits remain unaware," he replied simply. "And that it what matters, is it not?"
Legolas did not answer, but instead darted a quick look behind him where the hobbits walked with Boromir, before glancing back to the ranger. "Aragorn, we have walked several miles so far, yet we are no further from the House than when we started. Precisely what is the point of this little excursion?"
"The hobbits wished to see Imladris, Legolas, so that is what I am showing them." The barest hint of a smile appeared on the ranger's grim face. "Of course, if they do not realise that they are seeing the same part of Imladris from several different perspectives whilst not having strayed more than a mile from the house, well, that is all the better for us, is it not?"
"All the better for you, perhaps," was the elf's mild answer. "For I will have no part in this deception."
Ignoring his friend's words, Aragorn leaned in close to the elf, keeping one hand on his sword to prevent it from catching on his legs as he walked. "Am I mistaken, or did I just hear you admit that I am the better tracker of the two of us?"
"It is of no use trying to change the subject," Legolas retorted, refusing to be swayed from his intent. "I pity you if the hobbits realise that you have been deceiving them all this while."
Aragorn shrugged. "They will not find out," he stated. However, as a calm smile appeared on Legolas' smooth features, a suspicious thought rose to the surface of the ranger's mind, and he directed a sharp glance at the elven prince, who cleared his throat before falling back to walk with the hobbits and Boromir. Aragorn frowned. Unless it had been his imagination, the cough had sounded disturbingly similar to the word 'lake.' A deep crease appeared on his forehead. Surely his friend of many years would not betray him. Yet the ranger could not stop the slash of nervousness which went through his body as he looked back, eyes narrowed, only to see Legolas with his head lowered, speaking quietly to the two hobbits. Needless to say, Aragorn was hardly surprised when, seconds later, scurrying footsteps sounded behind him and two curly heads appeared on either side, just below chest-height.
The elder of the two hobbits glared at him accusingly. "What's all this about you not liking mushrooms?" Merry demanded.
Aragorn balked slightly, then steadied as the thought of throwing a certain elf prince into a lake for a second time comforted him. "I am not sure what you mean," he began, yet Pippin cut him off swiftly.
"Is this true?" he asked, shocked and disappointed that Strider, who he had begun to think of as somewhat of a hero, like the ones from Bilbo's tales, had failed such an important test.
"Well-"
"It is!" Merry exclaimed. "Remember Pip? He did not touch those mushrooms we offered him the first night we arrived here. He said that he was too full!"
"I was-" Aragorn began to protest, yet found himself interrupted once more as Pippin leaned around him to converse with his cousin.
"Merry, he liedto us!" the young hobbit exclaimed, not bothering to dull the volume of his voice in the slightest.
"Rangers are known for their deceitful nature." The melodious tones of the prince of Mirkwood entered smoothly into the conversation. "In many a village people are wary of them to this very day."
"Those rumours are completely unfounded," growled Aragorn, a muscle in his cheek tightening. "It is through no fault of ours that the name Dunedan is tainted."
"Then you have never slept a night in a farmer's barn without his knowledge? Or been detained for 'disturbing the peace'?"
"I think that you are confusing me with Gandalf," Aragorn replied stonily, eyes remaining fixed stoutly on the path ahead.
Legolas shook his head merrily. "Nay, I am quite certain that it was you who dealt the first blow in that tavern near Laketown."
"That was a misunderstanding, as you well know."
"Need I remind you that you stole that man's horse?"
"Firstly, that man did not deserve such an animal, not the way that he treated it, and secondly, it was you who dared me to take it from him! If anyone should be blamed for the bad name of the rangers it is the last prince of Mirkwood!"
Legolas shrugged. "I hardly expected that you would accept the challenge."
Merry glanced at Pippin, a grin developing on his face as he watched the elf and ranger descend into one of their frequent disputes, many of which had occurred since the hobbits had first met the prince in the gardens of Rivendell. Pippin grinned back and the two perked their ears, eager to listen to the rest of the debate.
Aragorn was scowling darkly at his friend. "If my memory is correct, I believe that you remarked that only a coward would refuse such an easy task. What choice did I have?"
"If that is that so you should thus be thanking me for providing you with such an opportunity to prove that you are not a coward, but merely a fool. Yet in any case, I hardly think it fair to place the blame for decades of a poor reputation on a single elf."
"Out of the two of us, you are the only one who has been alive long enough to be involved in most of these misunderstandings, so you must therefore be the one to blame!" Aragorn shot back.
Legolas shook his head, a merry glint in his eyes. "Ah, but what of your noble brothers? They have spent many more years in Middle-earth then I and have also had far more contact with the dunedain."
"Nay, we want no part of this argument." The smooth voice of Elladan sounded from behind the small group, and the hobbits' heads swivelled to face the slender elf where he strode next to his dark-haired twin. "It will only lead to trouble."
"Trouble for which I am certain Legolas is responsible," observed Aragorn.
Legolas began to protest, yet before he had said more than a couple of words, he halted, and appeared to be listening intently to the woods around him. Moving to the side of the path, the elf reached up and, without warning, swung himself into a tall tree, disappearing within seconds. Sharing a confused look with Pippin, who looked bewildered by the abrupt end to the conversation, Merry then glanced at the tall figures around them and noticed that they had closed in slightly. A rush of nervousness went through his stomach.
"Merry? What is it?" Pippin asked, unconsciously drawing closer to his cousin.
"I don't know, Pip," Merry replied apprehensively. "I think that there's something out there."
Little more than a minute had passed when Legolas returned, dropping silently out of the braches overhead and giving the two hobbits a nasty shock. The elf moved immediately over to Aragorn and the two began to converse, the former being never taking his eyes off of the surrounding woods. Merry moved forwards to listen.
"We should return to Imladris," Legolas was muttering to Aragorn softly, steel blue eyes darting in every direction as he kept watch for any threat which dared to present itself.
"We are not two miles from the main house," Aragorn replied stolidly. "No creature would dare approach so close to Imladris."
Even as he cast another sharp glance at the thickness of the surrounding bushes, Legolas was shaking his head. "Aragorn, this valley is no longer safe, however much you want to believe it so."
About to reply, Aragorn's gaze darted to the side as, without warning, three of the six elves who had accompanied them into the woods peeled off from the small party. In mere seconds they had vanished into the trees with not even the rustle of a leaf to indicate their passing. He turned back around to face the elf, his grey eyes seeming to have darkened slightly.
"I will not let you put others in danger because of a childish belief that your home is the only part of Middle Earth which has not felt the menace of Sauron," Legolas hissed. Noticing the Man, Boromir directing a sharp glance towards he and Aragorn, and well aware of the sharp eyes of the two hobbits, Legolas switched into elvish and softened his tone. "Imladris is no longer safe, my friend."
At that moment a birdcall sounded from the dark woods to the party's left. Merry watched as, exchanging a laden glance with Aragorn, Elladan disappeared into the trees with his twin immediately behind him, a mirror image of a deadly elven warrior. Boromir met the eyes of the heir to Gondor's throne for not even a second before he too followed, his heavy boots crushing the leaves beneath them as the man drew his sword from its sheath. The other elves drew tighter about the two hobbits, who crowded closer together as an unnerving ripple moved through the silent woods.
"What's wrong?" Merry asked, his voice hushed, barely louder than a whisper.
"Orcs," Aragorn replied roughly, without turning around. He drew his sword from its sheath before he continued. "A dozen of them perhaps."
"Aragorn." Catching the ranger's eye, Legolas glanced meaningfully towards the back of the party.
"Go," the ranger replied. Silently the elf prince dropped back until he was at the rear of the party. Drawing his bow and nocking an arrow to the string in one smooth movement, Legolas released an arrow, then a second, both of which hissed into the shadows of the surrounding trees behind the small group. A sickeningly fleshy thud, followed by a guttural cry, cut through the still forest, and were echoed almost immediately. Quick strides brought Legolas to the front of the party once more, his footsteps making not a sound upon the dry leaves as he fell into stride with Aragorn.
"They are more of them behind us," he muttered.
The ranger nodded, a grim expression lining his face. Turning around, Aragorn beckoned the hobbits to approach him. "Draw your swords," he murmured. "But do not use them, not unless you have no other choice."
Swallowing nervously, the two hobbits obeyed, not looking at each other. The sharp blades which Aragorn had given to them that dark night on Weathertop scraped cruelly against their sheaths as they were drawn forth, the noise cutting into the deceptively still air.
A sudden grunt sounded from before them and a distorted shape burst out of the trees ahead of the small company, followed immediately by a second. Before Merry could even blink, Legolas had whirled around and released an arrow into the shadows before him without pausing. A bare second later Aragorn darted forward and his sword flashed in one swift movement. Two dull thumps hit the forest floor, one after the other. Without a word the elf and the ranger returned swiftly to the small group, apparently oblivious to the shaken hobbits' stunned stares.
"We must move quickly," the ranger stated, keeping his voice low. "Merry, Pippin, stay behind Legolas and I." Merry nodded silently, and with Pippin followed on the two warriors' heels as they moved swiftly down the path, the other three elves close behind. Within minutes, the main gate of Rivendell came into view and the hobbits breathed sighs of relief, which they were careful to keep hidden from the elf prince and ranger before them.
Seconds before they moved through the stone archway, a number of shapes appeared, barely visible through a group of bushes. The hobbits tensed, half-expecting more deformed creatures to come charging through the undergrowth. However, only the lithe forms of the twins appeared, followed by the broader figure of Boromir, with three more elves seconds behind him. A grim expression on his face, Elrohir drew close to Aragorn and the two of them conversed quietly, speaking in the musical language which Aragorn and Legolas had been using less than an hour previous. This time however, there was a strangely harsh cast to their voices as they spoke, presumably about the orcs in the forest.
Merry glanced at the other returning warriors and noticed that one of the elves was favouring his left leg as a dark stain crept downwards towards his knee. The elf was being supported by another warrior who had a deep red scratch along one side of his face, marring the smooth paleness. As Elrohir finished his conference with Aragorn and moved over to his twin, Merry was unnerved to the two identical elves wiping their blades on their cloaks simultaneously, leaving the rich, flowing garments stained with a dark black substance. Blood. A strange sick feeling crept down towards his stomach as he eyed the twins a little uncertainly. Although he had heard that the sons of Elrond were warriors, and skilled ones at that, he had not actually realised that they were the same twins who had entertained he and his friends so merrily that first evening in Rivendell. However, his slightly disturbing thoughts were interrupted by the melodious voice of Elrohir, who had turned to the only other man in the party apart from Aragorn.
"You did well, Master Boromir," Elrohir commented, sheathing his sword by his side.
The Man shrugged, slinging his heavy shield over his back once again, yet keeping his sword drawn. "It has been many years since Gondor has seen peace," he answered. "I do my best to protect my people."
"Your people are fortunate to have a warrior as skilled as you," Elladan remarked. Boromir nodded almost imperceptibly, and his stern expression eased for a moment, yet he did not say anything more. Instead, the eldest of Elrond's sons turned to his brother.
"How many?" he asked bluntly, without further embellishment. Merry furrowed his brow in confusion, yet Elrohir apparently knew of what his twin was speaking, because a triumphant gleam lit his eyes.
"Four," he replied and his twin nodded in acknowledgement.
"Well done, brother. Victory is yours, this time at least."
Exchanging a puzzled glance with Pippin, Merry frowned as he wondered what in Middle-earth the two elves were speaking of. However, he was saved from having to ask as Legolas joined the conversation with a small smile upon his face, leaving Aragorn to lead the way back to the main house as the small company passed under the main gates of Imladris.
"I still cannot believe that the two of you actually compete on how many orcs you defeat," the elf prince commented, nimble fingers playing over the elegant shape of his bow.
"Why is that?" questioned Elrohir, his head cocked slightly to one side.
"It is childish."
"Aye, perhaps, but it is also extremely entertaining, tithen las," replied the twin smoothly.
"I am afraid that I must agree with Lord Elladan." The deep voice of the Man, Boromir, sounded, and Merry turned to look at him in surprise, for the Man most often kept his silence unless called upon to speak, at least in the company of the elves. "When we were children," the Gondorian continued, a fond smile coming to his face, "training with the sword, my little brother and I competed many a time regarding how many others we managed to defeat, in spite of the fact that they were most often members of my father's guard."
A wicked gleam caught in Elladan's eyes and he turned to Elrohir, his lips quirking in a smile. " I believe that we know of another who used to challenge members of his father's guard," he commented idly.
An identical smile formed on his twin's face. "And members of the royal court also."
"And each of us, frequently."
"He challenged Glorfindel once too, I seem to remember."
Legolas directed a sharp glance at the two elves and raised his eyebrows. "How else was I to gain sufficient skills to be able to best you, Elladan, only several days ago, with so little difficulty?" he enquired.
With a start, Merry realised that the twins had been speaking of about a young Legolas. He tried to imagine the elven prince as a child, yet his imagination failed him, not being able to overcome the image of the swift, lithe and deadly warrior whom he had just minutes ago witnessed killing three of Sauron's creatures.
Merry's attention was drawn back to the conversation as Aragorn turned round to smirk at the elf prince. "Yet I was able to best you, Legolas," the ranger commented, "three days ago, with even less difficulty. Perhaps you should seek out some of your father's councillors and try to improve your battle skills."
Legolas merely aimed a blow at the back of the ranger's head, which the man easily avoided. The prince turned to look at the hobbits apologetically. "You must excuse these three for their childish behaviour, master periannath," he said sorrowfully. "The sons of Elrond are not known for their manners, or their wits for that matter." He directed a sidelong glance at the ranger. "Even those of them who are adopted."
Aragorn snorted derisively. "At least I didn't get thrown into the lake," he muttered under his breath, before striding ahead to the head of the party once more as they entered the main courtyard of the Last Homely House.
Merry could not help the grin which came to his face at the behaviour of the three elves and the ranger, though he highly suspected that said behaviour was intended to draw the hobbits' attention away from what had just happened in the forest. The small company milled around for some minutes before the courtyard started to empty. Legolas stopped by where the two hobbits were standing to the side and looked down at them.
"I am sorry that we were force to return to Imladris so abruptly," the elf said softly. "I do not think that any of us expected such trouble."
Pippin nodded. "Especially as we were still so close to the House," he remarked.
The elf's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, we had just been going round in circles for an hour. We hadn't really travelled any distance at all."
Legolas blinked. "You knew?"
Pippin shrugged. "We're hobbits," he replied, as if it explained everything, which perhaps, it did.
Legolas nodded. "You are indeed," he replied slowly. He looked at the two hobbits shrewdly, before finally turning to fall in step with the two twins as they moved down a long hallway which led towards the dining rooms. "Til supper!" the prince called back over his shoulder, and the hobbits waved in response.
Merry watched as Boromir nodded to the two hobbits as he passed, with a brief smile for them, before starting up the stairs which led eventually to his room. He then looked for Aragorn, yet the ranger seemed to have disappeared in the past minute, leaving not a sigh that he was ever there. A frown began to form on Merry's face once more, yet a sharp nudge to his ribs made the hobbit glance up and glare at his cousin, who stood beside him. "What was that for?" he demanded with a scowl.
Pippin stared at him curiously. "What's wrong with you?"
Merry nodded after the departing figures. "They still think that we need looking after. You heard what Legolas said. They didn't think we knew that we were being led around in circles, to keep us safe."
Pippin shrugged. "I know that we don't need looking after," he replied, and the hint of a gleam lit his eyes. "And you know that we don't need looking after. But they don't know that, and that's what's important, isn't it." He grinned. "You never know, Merry. It may work to our advantage someday."
Merry snorted. "And how's that, Pippin?"
"The way that I see it," the sandy-headed hobbit replied, lowering his voice. "Is that they'll all be so busy protecting us, that they won't even notice when we start protecting them!"
Merry shook his head. "You're daft."
Pippin raised his left eyebrow. "Am I?" he asked. "Or am I just so clever that I seem daft?"
Merry rolled his eyes, yet his could not help the smile that tugged at his cheeks. He was suddenly glad that his cousin was there in Rivendell with him. "Sometimes I don't know what to do with you, Pippin," he grumbled half-heartedly.
The other hobbit merely grinned.
----------
Hope it was worth the wait! Please review, I'd love to know whether this chapter worked itself out because I'm still not entirely sure about it. Until next time which will sadly be the final chapter of In Imladris! (sob)