The Protector in the Shadow

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So, as I've said before! Here is our weekly update of TPITS! I hope you all enjoy it, because it's been a blast to work on it with loads of dedication these past few days! I like not feeling rushed about the time that takes to write my chapters! I also like the speed that it's going~ I have much to cover over these next few chapters, and hopefully I don't cover the entirety of the second movie in a matter of ten chapters. I really like doing all the movies justice, and I feel like sometimes I take one faster than the others to get to a given spot that I'm excited for! Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Hopefully you like it, if not that's fine! Before I continue this chapter I would like to honestly thank stuffsuchasdreamsaremadeon; for the most amazing PM an author could ever hope to receive! Enjoy this chapter guys! -Ze

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Disclaimer: Must you remind me?

†Past/Sindarin†

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Lost Time

Her azure eyes were burning with exhaustion now, how long had they been running? Let her rephrase that, how long had she been running? Too long it seemed since Gandalf had insisted they leave instantly, for fear they wouldn't make it to Edoras in time. She already knew that Éomer would not be there to welcome them, and she had heard a fell voice whispering of the dying prince that lay in the walls of Meduseld. She bit back a snarl, what could have befallen her Théodred? The boy she had played with for many years before he had transformed into a man. Even as a man he was filled with love, and willing to do almost any bidding his father requested of him. He was funny and energetic, though he might not have always been well mannered or polite, his humor made up for his lack of manners. He was trying to prove himself, trying to make his father see things that the older king could not see. Théoden always was a bright man, he was loyal, strong, and even the wolfling had found him intimidating at times. But when it came to children, when it came to the people in his care, he would venture to hell and back.

With these feelings of evil in her chest, she could only wonder what madness had corrupted the king that at one time she cared dearly for. Her mind flashed back to the happenings that had followed directly after the return of Gandalf, the return of her father. They had lost so much time venturing into Fangorn that they were rushing to make it up now. The horses had it easy, they were built for this, and their heavy muscles were thick from long runs. Lyavain on the other hand had been running for god knows how many days straight, with a Dwarf on her back.

Gimli still rode atop her, figuring it was safer on her than on the back of Arod, who seemed to be pitching quite the fit. Every now and again, Lyavain would duck quickly to avoid the violent hoofs aimed at her. She didn't question a beast like Arod, the chances of getting a straight answer from a creature like him was almost impossible. She had tried many times to use her strengths on the horses of Rohan with no avail.

They had traveled deep into the night before they stopped to rest. By that point Lyavain was almost dead on her feet. She was panting ungracefully, and she had even stumbled a few times, coming very close to spilling the already clumsy Gimli. Note to self, Dwarfs are not very good when it comes to riding anything bigger than a Shetland pony. Lyavain was much larger than the tiny form of horse, though not by much. It was amazing to think she was actually smallest of the wolfen kind. It was almost pitch black outside, only the moon was available to light the way. If she would have been alone, and it wouldn't have been a danger to the small portion of the Fellowship, she would have given into her instincts and tossed her head to the moon. When they finally did proceed to stop she took great joy and pride in allowing Gimli to get the heck off of her, and help the elf start a very small fire.

She curled up away from the rest, still slightly in disagreement with Aragorn, though at this point she was not sure why. She understood the anger he held about not listening to him, but honestly shouldn't that have been dealt with? It wasn't fair that she felt the need to stay away from the king, to stay away from the strings of royalty or power that hid within each and every one of the Fellowship. She could feel his gaze on her back as she was curled facing away from the camp.

Her sixth sense could feel the burn of his enchanting eyes on her like a brand. They were unmoving, even as she snapped her head around with a glare and a snarl to make him stop. She only locked eyes with him as he continued watching. She felt annoyed more than anything, what happened to the slightly bashful king from before? Now he was almost like a god before her, and she was practically bowing at his feet. No, she wouldn't beg for forgiveness, it was he who should be begging her. The crease between her eyes deepened as they continued to stare. The soft rumble didn't cease from her until her head snapped away.

She knew her eyes were likely to betray her; she couldn't help the feeling that kept sinking in her stomach. She was attracted to a king, and that was a downfall that had cursed her to begin with. Her father had been attracted to royalty and look where it had got him? He was murdered by the Elves because of the abomination he had created. Aragorn was far too great for her to take a chance on. She heard someone approaching, and by the foot falls she could tell it was her father. There was a moment of silence before she felt his staff gently tap her back. Her azure eyes turned to look up at him, shining with hidden emotion, and lost tears.

"Come Lyavain, I wish to speak with you." Gandalf started quietly, slowly motioning for her to follow. She did, slowly dragging her sore body from the ground and limping quietly after the wizard. She didn't hold back from sending a growl to Aragorn as she passed her eyes watching him like nothing else mattered. She knew what this meant, and she wouldn't tell the man even if he wanted to know. This secret would be hidden deep within her chest for many months to come, or so it seemed.

Gandalf found a small stump to place himself on before motioning for Lyavain to join him. She did slowly, not exactly wanting to get too close for fear the conversation would go south.

"What ails you, my child?" The phrase that came out of Gandalf's mouth confused her, yes Gandalf had always been caring, but never to the point of asking such questions. He could see the limp that was slowly getting worse, and clearly it was bothering him almost as much as it was bothering her. She inhaled a shaky breath before slowly laying down at his feet, her head rested on his lap gently as those wild eyes bore into his.

"I seem to be growing old Gandalf. My muscles and bones do not work as they once did. " Her mind spoke freely, knowing they were out of rage from the others. Her eyes slowly moved to the moon again. The happenings that had changed her world, that had changed her view of Frodo and the fellowship as a whole. She wasn't sure how she felt anymore, who could expect her to recover after such a short amount of time? She was as distressed as everyone else; she simply hid it better than them.

Boromir her mind thought slowly, the Captain of Gondor. Why did he have to die? She had known his death was coming, as hers seemed to approach with much haste as well. She was worried, hell who wouldn't be? She had lost so much in those past days, as a creature of shadow. She felt her hate rolling off of her as she stared listlessly at the moon. Almost growling at how it could shine with such beauty, yet still be a creature of the night.

"Old?" the Wizard mused with a raised brow.

"Yes Ada, very, very old. I approach my six thousandth year." She admitted, knowing that if she was in Elven form she would have blushed slightly at admitting her age.

She admitted slowly her eyes were covered in shadow, she could sense someone was listening into her conversation. But she hadn't the heart to tap into the mind and see who. She was allowing her thoughts to drift freely; it was the price she paid. She was brave enough to admit her age in general and that took a lot. She almost wanted to say what she was about to say next. She didn't exactly want whoever was listening to hear. She had no fear, and honestly at this point she didn't care. She felt her hackles raise slightly as she turned her head to the shrub which rustled slightly. Way to blow their cover, whoever was there.

"I've been alone for almost all of those six thousand years to this day Gandalf. I have found many years grateful of this solitude." Her mind paused lightly. As she slowly raised her gaze to meet Gandalf's, "But no longer, I have found the fate of my death. But I have also found the fate of my heart and soul. I have found my mate, Gandalf. And I now understand the feelings my father had for my mother." Her voice stopped, as she looked at the shocked expression pasted upon the wizard's face. She slowly rose and started to limp away, leaving Gandalf to think; she stopped looking back at him,

"You can't expect me to run too much longer Gandalf. My shoulder hasn't fully healed." She snarled lightly, clearly she was done being a child. Her slight tone caused Gandalf to raise his hands in defense. She vanished back into the slight cover of the forest.

She gasped suddenly as her harsh outer shell was broken by a gentle hand on her shoulder. A touch she recognized completely, though she was rather shocked that she had felt it. Her azure pools locked for the second time that night with what she had expected to be the hardened eyes of the Ranger. His soft expression shocked her, what had happened to the angry man from before? Why did he keep stringing her on like this? Her inner wolf growled at the prospect, it wasn't fair of him to be treating her like this. She was the woman; shouldn't she be acting moody and indecisive?

She snarled lightly, her ears pinning against her skull as her teeth bore at him in warning but he only kneeled before her. Gently cupping her hand in his face, she was unnerved by the fact that his gaze was unmoving from her own. A calm smile crossed his lips as he gently stroked her muzzle, the feeling sent a stream of shivers up her spine, but she didn't tremble in the slightest outwardly. The most unexpected thing came from her lips, not that she didn't think Aragorn was humble it was that he was still a king. Being ignorant and rude was in the bloodline of kings in most cases. She hadn't expected the simple sentence to even cross his lips.

"I'm sorry, my dear Fëa. I was simply worried for your safety" He said quietly, leaning in and pressing his lips atop her midnight dome. He slowly stood before turning. He was clearly going to speak to Gandalf but really why, and she wasn't sure why she was so confused. Very few people had apologized to her in her life; a king was by far the first, "I didn't mean to let my emotions get the best of me. You mean a lot to the fellowship, to me." He said quietly his eyes kept on her for a few moments looking at her over his shoulder. It was clear he was no longer mad, but Lyavain was about to crack under that piercing glare from him. She couldn't take his stare, the intense grandness of his splendor. She needed to admit she was exhausted, she would never admit this if she wasn't so exhausted.

"Aragorn," she said quickly stopping him from running off. Her expression had dropped most of its hostility, but it was still raging with fire, "I apologize as well. I should have listened; there was a chance that Éomer would have forgotten me. If that would have been the case my life might have actually been in danger. I am sorry Milord." Her words were soft as she turned, not looking over her shoulder once. She simply ignored the slight whisper of you are forgiven that came from behind her as she returned to the snoring Dwarf, and the hardly sleeping Elf. She watched the Dwarf shiver and soon found herself wrapping her body around him, to offer the bloke warmth.

She was feeling giving at the moment. Her body was sore, and she knew they would be leaving at the first light; the sky was already lessening it's pure dark hue. She was asleep before her thick plume of a tail stopped wagging and her hard breathing calmed down. She hadn't noticed the epic beating of her heart, but apparently Legolas had, giving her an odd yet non-questioning glance.

She was too tired to deal with the obnoxious expression given by the elf.

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As you've noticed this chapter was short, sadly so, I want to take my time with this movie as I've taken it with the first movie, the chapters really won't be all that long until excitement happens (Example: Riding into Edoras, warg attack, Helms Deep.) I want to get to those parts as soon as possible. I find myself honestly conflicted though, I'm wondering what I should do with Lyavain, I had a few different things in mind but I'm not set in stone with any of them yet. Please enjoy! A personal thank you and dedication to Serrah-Angel, my wonderful proof reader! -Ze

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