A/N: As promised, I've got a longer one for you. This is to say thanks that some people reviewed, it was really lovely to get that feedback!! Nothing kills a story faster than zero feedback lol. So I'll try to keep this going as long as I know that people are still liking it.

Chapter 7 – Natural Destruction

Annabelle realised that she must have burnt the eggs. They smelt just horrible. She started coughing and spluttering, unable to get any breath into her. Eggs were not to be wasted and she would be in trouble now. Gazing down at the black pan, she wondered what her mother would say, then she doubled over as smoke, so much smoke, washed over her and she gasped for air…

Suddenly she jolted awake, only to see Legolas crouching over her, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay," he said, shaking her gently. "It is time to get up."

Groggily, Annabelle opened her eyes wider and realised it hadn't all been a dream. There was a white, hazy smoke everywhere. It was very much like a fog. The sky was completely white and many of the men were wearing scarves over their faces to ease breathing. Legolas handed her a strip of material and gladly she tied it around her nose and mouth. It filtered out some of the smoke, but not the acrid burnt odour. Everything was going to smell now for days.

"Are we in danger?" she asked Legolas as she stood with him.

"No, the fire is far south."

"But that is impossible! All the smoke, there is too much of it."

"This fire seems to be very large," he said matter-of-factly.

"South…?" she reiterated. She suddenly felt very unsteady on her legs, and Legolas reached out to grab her and settled her back down on her blanket.

"It will be okay, Ani, really. I am sure your home is perfectly safe." He tried to nod his assurance.

"But you can't know that! Legolas, what about my family, my home….I must go back there to make sure they are okay."

"And what could you do, meleth? I don't mean to sound harsh, but it would not make any difference to affairs if you were there or not. And besides," he gestured south, "I do not think you would even be able to get though."

"But Legolas, it's my family." Her eyes were a little wide with fear. In truth, she felt like crying right there and she suddenly wondered what she was even doing out here in foreign lands, riding around with complete strangers. It had been a mistake to come.

Sensing her inner turmoil, Legolas knelt on his knees and reached out to take her in his arms. She didn't stop him. As he held her, she began to feel ever so slightly better, but she was still afraid. A bush fire of great size, once going, was almost impossible to control or extinguish. It raged where it wanted and showed no discrimination or mercy. She shuddered. Maybe it was better she wasn't there, she thought guiltily. All she could do was hope and pray that not too many were affected, or if so, that they were able to escape their burning homes or towns to get to safety.

Legolas felt her shudder and held her tighter. He understood how she felt. Bushfire of this size, or any size, was a terrible thing and potentially catastrophic. It did not occur often but when it did it affected everything in its path. But rather than worry about the Gondorians, there was just the one Gondorian he was particularly worried about for now. He pulled back when he felt she had calmed herself more and looked at her.

"We will pray to the Valar that all will be okay. And…" he hesitated, getting Annabelle's attention with his uncertainty. "I wish to apologise too for what happened yesterday, Aniel, our little argument."

"No, it is forgotten," she said quickly, for she did not wish to be reminded of how she felt when he had become so annoyed with her.

"But I was unfair to you. I expected far too much of you in something you have no interest with. I thought about it and realised… I was acting like an oaf."

"An oaf? No, never Legolas, not you!"

"I think I was."

They stared at each other for a timeless moment before Legolas shook himself back into the present. He reached over to adjust the makeshift scarf tied over the lower part of her face. "You look like a child in that," he joked to her. He himself didn't need to wear one, obviously smoke didn't overcome elves like it could do humans.

"Can you stand now? We must ride soon for cleaner air, and not to mention cleaner water," he gestured behind him towards the sick lake. "I will have someone saddle Bluestar and bring her over for you."

"Okay….and Legolas?"

"What?"

"Thanks." She reached out and let her hand just brush his. Then she started to pack up her stuff ready to ride.

Legolas and Aragorn rode together through the eerie white air, the sunlight falling a strange apricot colour on the ground, and the sun itself a dim orange ball struggling to lift itself into the sky. They rode silently at first, a tension evident in the air, then at last, hesitantly, Aragorn spoke.

"Do you suppose it is they who have caused this fire?"

The tightening of Legolas' jaw seemed answer enough. He said, dryly, "It would be a great coincidence wouldn't it, if this fire just happened to occur of itself, after what has already happened? Their little messages are starting to really annoy me."

"I find it hard to believe that one of your own kind would resort to this type of destruction, especially fire." The man shook his head.

"I know what you mean, Estel. You were brought up amongst my kind and you understand how we think. But the elven we are dealing with now, if it is They Who Had Been Banished, well, they are a different kettle of fish altogether." Legolas neglected to use their real name, falling back instead on the general term used to describe the tribe of elven, the Avari race, who had been banished.

With a quick, ominous exchange of glances, the two riders gladly settled into silence once more, each lost in their own worrisome, somewhat gloomy, thoughts.

As the day wore on, the wind shifted slightly and the smoke ceased choking the northern lands as much as it had. Though it remained an ever-present omen hanging over them all.

When they had departed that morning, Aragorn had despatched six of his men south to investigate the size and number of blazes as well as any damage they might be able to find. They were to report back to Minas Tirith where the rest of them were now headed.

The pace of the main party was still slow going since they did not want their horses out of breath in these thick, smoky conditions; that would be too cruel, despite the worries now hanging over them and their desire to get to Rivendell as soon as possible. Taking advantage of this slower pace, Captain Nomtenal rode alongside Annabelle to keep her company.

He had invited her to sit at his fire the night before, and to his surprise she had agreed. Normally she spent all of her time with the two royal persons in their party, especially that of the strange royal elf. But Captain Nomtenal had grabbed the opportunity to make polite conversation with her last night. Now, he realised, whilst Aragorn and Legolas were busy discussing the latest development of the bushfires, he could take the chance to get to know the slight country girl a bit better.

"Poider….I mean, Captain," Annabelle acknowledged, as he rode up beside her. "How are you today? Is the smoke bothering you?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said to her easily, a large smile plastered on his face. "No, I believe I'm doing okay. Are you?"

"I think I am fine, with this scarf on, but I worry about Bluestar, poor girl," Annabelle patted the sleek neck of her mare.

"Yes," acknowledged Nomtenal, "it's hardest on the animals. But at least we are moving further away from the smoke now, and the wind has changed since midday. It is still most unpleasant though."

Captain Nomtenal seemed like a father-type figure to Annabelle. He had shoulder length brown hair that was going grey at the front and sides, brown eyes beneath bushy eye-brows that were also starting to grey, and pock-marked skin, a result of a skin problem in his youth. He still retained some of the handsomeness that must have been very apparent when he was younger.

Annabelle found herself quietly respecting the older gentleman for his strength and his command over the other men. She had noticed the night before how the younger surveyors on the team had deferred to him, noticed the way they had looked at him and the tone they used when speaking around him. She felt very comfortable riding alongside him now that they had been introduced. Although she had disliked fighting with Legolas the day before, it had given her the chance to meet this Captain of Minas Tirith, a person who she would not normally get a chance to see from afar, let alone up close and in person.

"It's bad luck, isn't it, that a fire such as this has begun, and in such dry weather," she said by way of conversation.

"It is a terrible thing," he agreed equably. "Though I think not an accident, my Lady."

Annabelle was surprised. "Really, not an accident? But then who would do this to the land, to threaten the towns? Surely not someone from these parts."

"Aye," he agreed. "It must be a stranger to our land."

Annabelle did not notice, but Poider cast a quick glance forward in the direction of Legolas upon Arod. He continued, "As a matter of fact, evidence of strangers has been sighted in South Gondor of late, by the very men in this team. Quite unfriendly they were too," he said, remembering the arrows that were fired at them, "although we could not see who they were."

"Really?" asked Annabelle, turning slightly cold. "Strangers? I hope they are not dangerous. Where could they be from?" she wondered. Just then, she again recalled the encounter she had had back in town. The dark elf could certainly be classed as a stranger. And not only would Legolas refuse to speak of it, but on top of that Aragorn had made such a big fuss over it. She wondered if it could somehow be tied in. Turning earnestly in her saddle she asked the Captain about it.

His eyes narrowed and he did not say anything at first. Then he said, "I think I must have heard you wrong. What did you just ask me, dear girl?"

"Would it have anything to do with the other elf, the one I saw back at Wickerwood?"

Slowly Poider let out a hissing breath. Eventually he said, "So that is what happened is it? Now it all makes sense, the lack of tracks, the strangely elegant arrows…."

"What?" she asked.

"Oh. I suppose no one would tell you these things. I, and some men of mine, were attacked just days before…the elf…brought you to our camp. We thought it was wild men of some skill, since orcs leave such obvious trails. I never in a million years could have thought…." He trailed off again, his eyes going distant with thought. Annabelle noticed such a transformation in his face, such a grim twist to his mouth, she was compelled to ask him why.

He seemed a little flustered in answering. "Well…I…it is an, er, enemy that I would not have expected." He seemed loath to say more to her all of a sudden.

"But the fires," pursued Annabelle, "do you think that they lit them on purpose, these strangers?"

"Do I think that?" asked Poider, a strange gleam in his eye. Once again, he cast a glance towards Legolas' back where he rode up ahead. He shook his head distastefully. "I think we could probably count on it!" he breathed. "There are some strange happenings afoot, so strange it seems, that a Captain of the Gondorian Army is left in the dark."

"Oh." She could think of nothing to say to that.

The Captain quickly glanced at her and smiled. "Do not worry about it, my dear. We are all seasoned fighters here. And strategists. We will get to the bottom of this once we arrive at the White City." And under his breath he added, "You can count on it."