Back again with another installment of Spirit.

I'd like to thank those that are reading this story,I hope you continue to enjoy it. Special thanks to Ida Cippo for the review and the hint about the glued words.

The march dragged on, through the shadows of the night and even into the next day. Laitheryn found his heart beginning to match the relentless pounding of feet upon the earth; the soft footsteps of the elves surrounding him, completely hidden by those of the orcs that guarded them.

Dinenant and he continued to walk together, Laitheryn relying on the mostly uninjured elder elf to support his weight. For the silver eyed elf's part he seemed incredibly wary of the injuries he had suffered. His supporting arm, never brushed his mid to upper back once, where the majority of the blows had fallen.

Laitheryn had his injuries treated by Elladan, while the battle between the orcs spewed onwards. In this battle at least a score of orcs had lost their lives to their kin, but there were still numerous in number, with more than enough to guard their captives. As Laitheryn listened, he half hoped that the entire orc army would decimate itself that night, and the elves could just walk free. But even as that thought had occurred to him, in the realm drifting between sleep and wakefulness, he knew it was a vain hope. Under the pain of the recent torture and the soothing touches and song of the Elf Lord, Laitheryn had drifted off.

He had been woken several hours after the sun had set; and just after the orcs had finished their feast of their fallen brethren. Laitheryn was grateful that Elladan and Dinenant had allowed him to rest through that, not only to heal his injuries, but so those images would not be recorded onto his memory. Dinenant had helped him to his feet, as the call for the march to begin rang in their ears. He and Laitheryn had walked, both trying to ignore the blood smeared lips and teeth of those that now walked around them. He tried to desperately ignore the stench of death, as it echoed through the air and assaulted his nose; Laitheryn felt his stomach turn and fought desperately to keep it under control.

As the sun had climbed higher in the sky, Laitheryn found it easier to continue on his own and eventually wormed free of the patrol leaders grip. Dinenant shot him a concerned glance and Laitheryn smiled back. He knew his smile was tinged with pain, but it seemed to relieve the silver eyed elf that he was alright and was feeling strong enough to walk alone.

Despite Laitheryns' assurances, Dinenant stayed at his side and continued to walk with him. Laitheryn was glad of the company the elder elf provided, for keeping the pain from the forefront of his mind as well as the silent support Dinenant gave. Yet he could not help but wonder why the Elf continued on with him.

"Should you not consider the wellbeing of the members of your patrol?" Laitheryn asked. "They will have need of you."

"Their eyes are upon us, Laitheryn. My patrol has been watching our every step. They look to you for strength and hope."

"They do?"

"Aye. You have given them hope to carry on, despite the burdens we carry. By you walking alone, you have given them hope that this will end. You are most brave."

"I am still under the impression that your patrol would need your presence more than I."

"We walk amid my patrol; they surround us in every direction. We are not far from them, and you are in need of assistance. My patrol now protects us from the vision of the orcs."

"Do you only walk with me because you feel you must?"

"Nay. I walk with you because you are my friend, Penneth. I walk with you because you are my lords' friend, and he would have it of me."

"Elladan asked you to walk with me?"

"Aye; he is most concerned for your safety, as am I."

"And who gave the order to Elladan to have me watched."

"His is a name I cannot speak."

There was the proof that Laitheryn sought. Before this conversation Laitheryn could not be sure if the order had come from the one that the entire Greenwood escort protected, or from one of its members. Yet the order had come from the king of that nation, from Thranduil himself. 'Why would the Elvenking be concerned for my safety?'

"Why does he take such concern over my wellbeing?" Laitheryn asked, lowering his voice so that the elves around him would not hear their words.

"I do not know the answer to that."

"Do you know what he looks like?"

"Nay. I do not. None from our realm would give the same description of him, if you were to ask. Our information is old, and passed from different ears. I would not trust it to be accurate."

"And what description would you give him?"

"There is one description that I hear repeated the most, amid the other rumours of his appearance. It is said that his hair is as dark as the sky on a moonless night. As I have heard his eyes are steel grey and look like stars fallen from the heavens."

"Do you trust that description?"

"As far as a rumour could be trusted, Laitheryn. I am sorry, for there seem to be many answers to the question of what he looks like. Mine is, most likely just a rumour."

"I understand. I thank you for the information."

"I am pleased to share it." Dinenant paused as if considering something. "It may be that he wishes to question you on how you survived."

"That is possible." Laitheryn answered, 'And that is the obvious answer. I am a Woodelf that was thought dead, but survived. It is practically his duty as my king to find out what occurred and how I escaped. Perhaps he hopes that others have escaped death too….I am not sure he would like to hear that I threw myself into the rapids to escape the spiders… But the only way he could have his questions answered is if we survive this.'

All of their lives rested on the speed of the forces that Greenwood had sent out and of the secrecy of their approach. If the orcs learned of their pursuit they may kill off their hostages and flee. Or their speed would increase if they learned of the pursuit that had been called from Greenwood.

It was that thought that drove him on, and gave him the will to continue placing one foot in front of the other. They would be freed soon. For the speed that the orcs and their captives could walk was far slower than what horses could travel, when the need was dire. But for the sake of all the captives, Laitheryn hoped that help would arrive soon.

As they got further from the lowest sections of Greenwood, Laitheryn had noticed that their direction shifted more eastwards. The more they continued in that direction, the more he began to fear. The sparse systems of trees were dying, and slowly the land died of most plants and animals. There was no real divide between the uninhabited desert of the east, just a dying that occurred as it approached.

Their destination lay somewhere in the vast waste, where it would be impossible to trace their location. The shifting sands would hide their trail and sounds would be muffled. It would also be too humid for the horses to travel in too and they would have to be left behind.

The orcs seemed to know this fact and their jeers and leering increased as the sands came steadily closer. It was on the edges that a rest was finally called.

"Water the capt'ves…No need for thems to be fainting now, boys." One of the larger orcs spoke.

There was a mumble of protest amid the orcs as their precious water was passed around. The first elf that was near him enough for Laitheryn to observe, raised the water to his lips, but did not swallow. Passing it forward Laitheryn followed his lead and did not drink either. He would not have put it past some of the orcs to have slipped a poison into the water.

Due to his wounds, Laitheryn felt ill enough; and he had no wish to be poisoned on top of that. He knew the wounds were beginning to become infected, as they were not tended for several days. Laitheryn could feel the beginnings of a fever setting in, but would not complain.

As he passed the water off, after pretending to drink, he sensed the eyes of the Greenwood elves on him once more. Turning swiftly on them, he caught some of the eyes in his vision before they could avert their gazes. Keeping his vision locked on them, Laitheryn silently challenged them to speak, with his eyes alone. At the challenge, those that had kept their eyes on him, dropped their gazes and moved their attentions off of him. A moment later Laitheryn turned his attention to Elladan, and knew that their gazes returned.

"I wish they would stop that." He whispered.

"It is a trifle disconcerting." Elladan agreed. "Even as I am not the one they are studying."

They kept their talk light, as both knew that soon the rest would end and soon they would be forced to continue onwards into the looming desert. Night was falling, the sun just beginning to set. Laitheryn was sure the orcs would move again, once the sun was completely hidden and the desert cooled. Once they entered they would be lost. As he stared into the shifting sands, Laitheryn began feel his hope die. And there next to him, Elladan struggled to keep one younger than he from weeping at the sight of the desert.

"Have hope, Mellon nin." Laitheryn soothed, trying not to let the tone of his voice indicate that he too was having trouble controlling his emotions.

"Those that follow have not given up on us; do not give up on them."

"It is an impossible hope! We are doomed. Alas!" Almir wept, finally. "There will be no peace…only pain! I will share the fate that others in my family have suffered! I will lose my Ada and Nana! And my brothers and sister! I cannot stand it. I cannot stand to lose them!"

"They have not lost hope yet." Elladan whispered.

"I have, Elladan. I cannot continue to carry hope! Arda has darkened, and hope is lost."

Unbidden, words that Mithrandir spoke long ago to him, began to echo in Laitheryns' mind. They were words given to him when he spoke of the darkness that seemed to infect everything. "There are other forces at work in Arda, not just the ones of darkness."

"It seems that all is dark."

"Aye, it does. But look at it from this light. If I had not left Lorien the day I had, I would not have been in the correct location in intercept the Orc army." Laitheryn began, forcing his mind away from the pain filled screams of the tree as it died. "I would have been too late, and our paths would not have crossed."

"What point do you make?" Almir asked, his tone becoming more curious and less panicked.

"If I had not been where I was, at that exact moment. I would not have been able to send a message through the trees, to Greenwood, speaking of what had befallen. Thus, I was meant to be where I was, and I was meant to be captured by the orcs, and so were you. We were meant to find each other here. And that is a very comforting thought." Laitheryn finished, with the same words Mithrandir spoke to him.

"…I can see the logic in your words. But I fear the desert."

"I fear it too." Laitheryn admitted. "I fear its deadness…I can sense nothing living and the voices of nature are dulled. I fear to tread one step into the sands."

"You are so wise for your age, Laitheryn." Dinenant broke in, proving that he had been listening to the dialogue. "And as his words were true for me; I fear I must speak them to you, Almir. Do not let your fear rule you. I believe in what Laitheryn speaks of. The Valars' works are mysterious and we are not meant to understand their designs. Hope still exists."

"Do you believe you will see your family again?" Almir asked.

Laitheryn flinched, despite knowing that the question had not been directed towards him. He noted that Elladan's gaze landed directly on him as the question was asked.

"Ai, forgive my words! I did not mean them as they were spoken, Laitheryn. I pray you forgive what I said."

"I do not fault you for what you said, Mellon nin." Laitheryn began. "I believe that you will see your family once more, as well as Dinenant and Elladan. And yes, I believe I will see my family too."

"So you three carry hope?"

"The orcs wish us to lose hope and faith." Laitheryn started. "I will not let them break me so easily."

"Nor I." Dinenant spoke. "To lose faith is to give them what they wish."

As the elder elf had been speaking Laitheryn had turned his attention away from the two. Something was tugging on his mind; a tiny voice, begging to be heard; but too far away to be completely clear.

He turned his attention completely onto it, tuning out the distractions around him. And for a moment he sensed the life of the land, the one he thought of as dead. It was their soft voices that whispered to him now. Not the sound he was used too, instead of the sound of soft leaves blowing in the wind he heard the whispers as sand glistening in the noon day sun. Life existed in the desert, different than what he had encountered; but still beautiful. It was not the barren waste he feared.

'What?' Laitheryn prodded gently. 'What troubles you, Mellon nin?'

'Great evil approaches. Great evil lies near. Beware!'

'Do you speak of the sons of Mordor?'

'Nay.' One answered.

'Other evil. Ones that are second born.' A second voice cut in.

'Beware them…" The first spoke once more.

That was the last thing he heard before his hearing picked up a soft noise. Laitheryn frowned listening to the noise repeat itself from the surround. He was sure that many ears missed it, the only reason he noted it was because his attention was riveted away from the conversation occurring around him.

Glancing over the party of elves he traveled with he realized that none seemed to have heard the soft noise, and were instead engaged in private thoughts of conversations.

A short distance away, the majority of the Woodelves stood on guard, as if their ears had picked up the quiet noise too. Were they listening, like he was, trying to hear over the confusion to find the source of the disturbance? Could they recognize the sound?

Laitheryn could place the sound, from a memory that occurred long before. When he had traveled with that human ranger, his bow had made a similar noise when the ranger had drawn it. Laitheryn had listened to the noise the bow had made and eventually learned how to place the rangers' location from the sound of the bow alone. It was a subtle noise, one barely distinguishable from the surrounds, but one Laitheryn would always recognize when he heard it.

Only instead of one bow being drawn, there was many. Instead of well constructed bows like the one the ranger carried; it sounded as if many, crude bows and been aimed directly towards them.

Elves would not have made such a mistake; for if the orcs had been paying any attention to their environment they would have noted the humans' presence immediately. This was not the answer Laitheryn had hoped the Valar would send for his prayers. But right now he would definitely prefer the company of humans to orcs. 'Yet the voices speak of danger. I must be wary of them then.'

'Beware!' The sand voices yelled.

Before anything else could register, Laitheryn realized he had jumped towards Elladan, Almir and Dinenant and brought them down with the momentum of his body landing on theirs.

In that second that their bodies met, a hail storm of bolts began falling.

Almir – Sparkling Flame.

Dinenant – Silent Gift