A/N: Well, did you guys like the last chapter? I hope you did. :D Anyways, enjoy this one, and happy reading! Oh, and sorry for killing off any Aragorn/OC fans. My brother wants to build up this whole subplot…anyway, it doesn't matter. As soon as I'm done with this story, I'll write an Aragorn OC story, I promise. It's just….I feel like I have a commitment to Legolas now. Plus, he's cute. Okay, on with the show and enough with this obscenely long Authors Note that nobody reads anyway!
Summary: This chapter is set two weeks after the Fellowships Departure from Rivendell. Accalia and Hzrathgur has been traveling for a long time, and they catch sight of the Fellowship. She doesn't know that someone from the Fellowship catches sight of her…
WARNING: Short chapter warning.
Disclaimer: I own Accalia Ravenheart and her wolf, Hzrathgur.
The sky was gray and overcast. A fine mist rained down from the sky, mirroring the mood of everyone among the Fellowship. The loss of Ganandalf had hit all of them hard, Frodo especially. After fighting bull trolls and Orcs, watching him guide them safely through the mines, only to be devoured by the fiery Balrog. Damp grass squished underneath their boot-clad feet as they trudged forward, without even the cheerful nickering of Bill to keep them company. Aragorn was at the head of the procession, in the leadership role, as Ganandalf had intended.
Not all of them were brooding over the loss of the wizard. Legolas, the blonde elf, was scanning the horizon with renewed vigor. He had seen something early that morning…something that he had, at the time, thought was a vision, but now thought it was a sign of good fortune. The vision had been of a purple-cloaked woman, riding elegantly on a huge tawny wolf. The wolf had swiveled and looked straight at him, piercing him with it's hard black eyes, and the hooded rider had thrown back her hood and locked eyes with him. Then she had bolted off, the gold wolf running faster then Legolas would have believed possible.
He was jolted out of his thoughts by Gimli, who was limping along behind him. "What's wrong, Elf?" he grunted. Legolas gritted his teeth slightly, scraping his molars against each other. The bearded dwarf really got on his nerves.
"What makes you think something is wrong, Gimli?" he retorted. He fingered the dagger in his belt. Oh, but to cut a strip of cloth from his tunic and muffle the accursed dwarf's jabbering for a few sweet hours…!
The dwarf chuckled good naturedly, his laugh muffled by his beard. "Oh, only the fact that you've been walking around like you just got a good whack on the head with my axe." he said. Legolas tightened his grip on his dagger, then relaxed.
"Nothing is wrong." he said. Boromir shortened his stride to fall in pace with the elf and the dwarf, then joined in the conversation. Legolas would have rubbed his temples if he had the energy. Why must everyone butt into his own private thoughts?
"Gimli is right, Legolas, you've been going around with your head in the clouds all day." Boromir said sternly. "Come now, what's wrong?" he asked.
"It's just…ah, nothing." Legolas said, catching himself. Merry and Pippin ran to catch up, eager to join in a conversation with someone else for the first time that day. They had always enjoyed tormenting the elf, saying he was far too pretty to be a boy.
"No, what is it, Legolas?" Merry asked. Legolas sighed, turning his azure eyes heavenward. Oh, for the love of peace - !
"All of you, nothing is wrong! I saw something strange this morning and I have no wish to discuss it with any of you!" Legolas snapped. Aragorn heard this and fell back, shooing the rest of the Fellowship off. They skulked around, trying to listen in to the friend's conversation.
"Something strange?" Aragorn asked in a low voice. Legolas shrugged, not looking at his friend.
"Yes. Nothing dangerous, but…something strange nonetheless." Legolas said. Aragorn narrowed his eyes.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly. Legolas closed his eyes, remembering the vision of loveliness he had seen earlier that morning, when the new dawn had yet to touch the ground and warm the air.
"A woman…riding on a golden wolf. She was wearing a purple cloak - thick, so it must have been a traveling cloak, and the wolf looked straight at me. I thought…perhaps it could have been a Rider?" Legolas asked hopefully. Aragorn shook his head slowly.
"I know naught of Riders, my friend. But I do know of a woman who wore a purple cloak." he said, his jaw tightening when he thought of Accalia. The haughty woman had left a tiny scar on his upper lip - nothing major, but it was still a scar. He could truthfully say it was the only time he had been scarred by a woman.
"Who?" Legolas asked eagerly. Aragorn sighed.
"A woman named Accalia. She was beautiful, prettier then any of the elves I've seen, but…She was so mysterious. Different. And she had a very short temper. I have a feeling she was some kind of royalty." Aragorn admitted. What else could attribute to all the bowing Elrond had done, all of the elves calling her "my queen"?
"Did you mention a Rider?" Gimli asked, his ears perking up. Legolas threw him a souring glance.
"Yes, what of it?" he snapped. Gimli shrugged.
"They're extinct, that's all. So you couldn't have seen a Rider." Gimli said. Legolas gave a long-suffering sigh.
"She was riding on a golden wolf! What else could she have been?" Legolas asked irritably.
"All the Great Wolves died out centuries ago," Boromir interjected. "It must have been a vision, Legolas. Perhaps a messenger, sent from the gods?" he suggested.
"Rubbish," Gimli snorted. "The gods don't send messages like that. What kind of message would that be anyway? 'Oh, here, lets send a woman wearing a purple cloak riding on a gold wolf to them, and they'll know what it means'."
Legolas's temper snapped. "That's enough, all of you! You didn't see it, only I did. So enough speculating about something you didn't even glimpse!" he shouted, stalking ahead.
"Temperamental, elves are," Gimli grunted. "Touchy."
Legolas hated to admit it - the fact that he was falling for a woman he had never even seen, a woman who probably didn't exist. He was falling bad, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.O
Accalia stretched miserably - it was the kind of day she hated. Dreary, wet, drizzling rain trickled down from the sky. She wished it would either stay dry or pour - she hated days that skirted in between. Hzrathgur's broad back was slick and slippery, and her knees ached from holding on. He trotted along blithely, relishing the slow pace. Accalia twisted in her seat again to look at the rocky outcrop.
You want to see him again, don't you? Hzrathgur asked.
See who again? Accalia said, feigning innocence. Hzrathgur growled low in his throat.
That elf we saw this morning. The blonde one who looks like a girl. Hzrathgur purred.
He does not look like a girl! And no, I'm not looking for him.
Ah, defending him now, are we?
Accalia gritted her teeth. Wolves could be so infuriating sometimes. She dug her fingers into the nape of his neck. No, I'm only saying he doesn't look like a girl. she snapped.
Relax, little one, I will leave him alone. For the time being, he added as an afterthought.
They continued west, trekking along the marshy plains. Accalia closed her eyes and thought of him. He was tall, as all elves were, standing on the rocky outcrop with the new sun rising behind him. Call it romantic, call it sentimental, call it whatever you wished - Accalia was falling for someone she'd never even seen. Falling bad.