This was quick, wasn't it? *proud grin* It's a bit shorter though - I wanted to make it longer, but this ending was perfect :P I guess the next chapter will not take long - I have some free time during the exams :)

Thank you for your wonderful reviews once again! :)

BETA: thewayfaringstrangers

Aqua Nerd: Oh no, please don't drop dead here! Are you alright? You need some water? Keep breathing, that's the key! Breathing! :P

Epic Elven Warrior Princess: ... Perhaps :P

Evenstars: Well, this was soon, wasn't it? :P

Jasper6509: No. Mine. *grabs Legolas and holds him protectively, Jack-Sparrow-style* :P But who says they HAVE the cure? :P

Lazy Gaga: Yeah, I love cliffies... (OMEN!) :P

roseandfudge: I think Aragorn would quite agree with you :)

Schiffer: I got the next update - though i'm not sure whether you'll like this ending ;)

ShadowHawq35: Any particular guesses before you start reading? :P

Squiddy the Beth: I'm glad you liked the 'shoo' :P I sometimes have those images in my head, and even though they can be odd sometimes, they just make sense to me... but most of the time not to the others :P So I'm glad you like it! :) You can hug him once we're back in the city ;)

TheButterflyCurse996: Several times, if I recall well :P If I only wasn't so forgetful! *evil grin* Wth, did you study biology lately? Pathogen :P I'm but a poor linguistic girl :P Don't throw such horrid terms at me! :P

Wood elf luver: Hahaha! I just read your review over and over again! :P You're just crazy :P Where did Taylor Swift come from? :P But I agree with grr :P You're amazing! I loved every letter of your review! :)

Ynnealay: Okaaaaay... I'vegoneoffhidingintheclosetse eyoulaterbye! *runs to the closet, locks it and swallows the key* Tell me when it's safe again! :P And btw, thank you for reviewing my friend's story, she found it so sweet! :)

Finding the Cause

"So this is the source of all evil. We should have expected it, I guess." Aragorn nodded, but didn't break the silence that was hanging heavily over the green hill. It was still morning, and the mist had not yet vanished in front of the sun, mysteriously covering the woods… and their destination.

After all, it hadn't been too difficult to find out where they had to go, Elentìriel had told him. Since Legolas had been absent, Faramir had taken over the rule over Ithilien, and had seen to his duties quite thoroughly. One of them was diplomacy with the other realms, such as the delegation Legolas had selected to announce his new title – a necessary evil, since the elf prince didn't care for his status, but his father had threatened on locking him up if he didn't take up his new rule officially.

Therefore, Faramir had invited the elves for dinner, to discuss their route and message in detail. They had gone to Mirkwood first – even though the steward had done everything to dissuade them. From Ithilien, they would have to travel straight up North, which would lead them to the old fortress of Dol Guldur - a place that even now, after Sauron's defeat, was not safe. But the elves had insisted, saying that they would honor the king of Eryn Lasgalen by bringing him the official news first.

At that point, Aragorn had jumped out his chair and was already throwing all kinds of herbs and other useful things in his bags to go storming off to Dol Guldur, when Elentìriel had stopped with a puzzled gaze.

"Where are you off to?"

"Dol Guldur. The infection must have been spread from there – the evil must have been mutated so that it now not affects the nature around it, but the elves themselves."

"Good reasoning," she had answered with a smile, "though you forget one thing."

"What?"

"Neither Celamceb, Nelladel nor Sulfalas have been near Dol Guldur, or even Greenwood. They can not have been infected in this way."

"Oh." Aragorn had fallen back in the chair. "Then where does it come from?"

"Perhaps if you would let me explain…" He had waved his hand impatiently, urging here to go on. So she had told that after Eryn Lasgalen, the delegation would travel to Rivendell, and then to Lorien, whereupon they would follow the mountain edge through Fangorn, to sing their joy for the new prince to the trees and Ents, before they would leave the forest to go to Rohan.

"But that would lead them…"

"To Isengard. Exactly." And now they were standing here, looking down at the dark tower. It had been long abandoned, since Saruman had died, and nature was beginning to reclaim its ground, yet the cold aura was still present. No vines dared to touch the obsidian stone, nor did any grass grow near. And the silence was overwhelming. It was as if nature herself was holding her breath, recoiling from the spoiled earth.

"Not particularly a welcoming sight, I have to say," Elentìriel stated mirthfully. Even though worry was still visible in her eyes, she seemed to have found her good mood again. Perhaps it was because she could finally act, instead of watchingat Legolas' side and praying.

Aragorn was glad he had brought her with him. Her optimism and trust, together with the wind and feeling of freedom he was experiencing here, far away from Minas Tirith and from his duties, often drove away his worries and dark doubts – and off course, her presence had allowed him to refuse any guards on this journey, for who would better be able to protect a king than a warrior who had shielded an elvish prince for so many years?

"Welcoming or not, we'll have to go closer if we want to find the source of the plague." He took a deep breath and turned to the elleth. "Elentìriel, I really rather would like you to –"

"Stay here and cower. I know. You told me already. A Tenfold of times."

"Would there be any chance you have changed your stubborn mind during our journey?"

"None, I fear," she replied merrily. "Shall we go now? Time is of essence." She pushed her heels into her horse's flanks and raced down the hill, only to stop before the gate. She stared at it thoughtfully, guiding her horse back and forth as she inspected it.

"Why, that's strange."

"What is?" Aragorn asked as he joined her, though he saw the answer soon enough. The great, black gates were open. Elentìriel cocked her head, still staring at the black hole between them.

"Tell me, Estel… If Saruman were to have left his tower, would he have left the doors open?"

"Unlikely, I fear. Unless he would have left in a great hurry, off course. Though even then…" Ever mindful of a trap, the two lingered outside, searching for any sign of an ambush, but they found none. They had almost declared the area safe, when Aragorn's eyes fell upon a strange deviation in the patterns of the dry earth. Careful not to disturb the dust, the man knelt. It still took several minutes though, before the soil uncovered its secrets before his skilful eyes.

"Elentìriel!"

"Yes?" Aragorn almost jumped. Elflike, the warrior had approached him several minutes ago, but he had been too absorbed in the earthy mystery to hear her near-silent steps. Swallowing a curse – he had learnt remarkable self-control over his tongue due to Arwen's presence – he pointed at the patterns.

"Someone has passed here, though I couldn't quite say who. The manner in which he was walking, indicates a man, but he has left almost no impression, much like the elf-folk. He was carrying a stick though…"

"Saruman," she hissed.

"That would be my guess as well."

"But how? I thought he had died in the lands of the hobbits?"

"That's a question I too, do not know the answer to. But I'm certain caution would be a good idea here. Valar, I should have brought some guards."

"Well, we can't turn back now, so I fear you'll have to content yourself with me," Elentìriel whispered, drawing her bow.

"Believe me, I am. Let me tie down Goldmane first. I do not want her to run, and leave us behind." He cursed himself for not bringing Brego, but the horse had seen to much battle already, and thus Aragorn had seen it fit to give him some rest. Goldmane was swift and had a great endurance too, but their bond wasn't so strong yet. He could not be certain that she wouldn't run off at the first sign of danger, and he wouldn't like to be trapped here.

Quickly, he slung the reins over a thick, low branch, securing so that it would hold, though without too many knots so that he could get her free swiftly, if the need should arise. Then, he took his sword. He had a bow too, but since Tiri had already taken hers, it would be safer if there was someone who could take the enemy in close-combat.

Tiri grinned at him when he came back. "Do we actually have a plan?"

"Do we need one?"

"Where is the young ranger who couldn't go on a routine patrol before thinking out all kinds of scenarios and escape routes? I fear Legolas has a really bad influence on you, Estel," she sighed mockingly.

"Most of my plans did end up in ruins anyway."

"That's true."

"Mostly because of Legolas."

"Shall I tell him that, my lord?" Aragorn's grin disappeared.

"I do hope he will be able to hear it again. But we should not linger here. Do you have the torches?"

"Yes, but you'll have to carry them. I need my hands free for my bow." He frowned at her.

"Obviously. I'm not an apprentice anymore, Tìri."

"I'm sorry, the silence is getting on my nerves."

"Try to stay focused."

"Obviously." She smiled at him as she returned his exact response, but he did not answer it. The atmosphere was making him nervous too, and his heart felt hunted, as if it tried to tell him Legolas didn't have much time anymore. Still, he could not just burst in into this old stronghold of evil.

Carefully, he stepped climbed the stone hill to the gates and entered it, with Elentìriel right behind him. Once inside, he raised his torch in the air, trying to illuminate the whole room. The fire was reflected eerily in the black obsidian, but otherwise, the place seemed deserted. The cobwebs were undisturbed, and Saruman's artifacts were lying in the same place he had left them – even his chair had not been moved. It would have seemed none had passed here for a very long time, if the dust on the floor hadn't revealed very light footsteps.

Silently, Aragorn turned to the elf and pointed to the traces. Her eyes followed the trail, and widened when she saw where it was leading to.

"The Heart of the Tower," she mouthed. Aragorn nodded. The Black Heart of the Tower. The centre of Saruman's evil. He didn't look forward to going there, not with a wizard sneaking around here, but it had to be done. He took a deep breath, looked at Elentìriel and gave her an encouraging nod. Then, he opened the black interior door. Immediately, he noticed two things.

The first thing he saw was a strange design in the middle of the high room. A pentagonal star was drawn with white chalk, contrasting sharply with the dark obsidian floor. At the points, five black candles were burning, without melting. No wax was forming a pool around it, and no smoke arose, but the flames were red and illuminated the pentagram brightly. There were other objects too at the points and inside the star, but Aragorn couldn't quite make out what it was. He stepped forward.

That was when he noticed the second thing.

Or rather – he felt it. All of a sudden, a heavy weight was smashed against him, and the next thing he knew, he was floating through the air. His head collided heavily against one of the columns. Almost immediately, his vision darkened. He was flung to the ground, unable to move, unable to think.

Faraway, he heard Elentìriel screaming, high and surprised, and a dry tock in one of the corners indicated she had lost her bow. Then, there was a wheezing sound, as if she too was catapulted through the air, and then everything was silent, except for soft footsteps – wizard's footsteps – running towards the fallen man.

Aragorn stealthily took his knife out of his booth – he has lost his sword and the torch somewhere mid-air – and prepared himself, focusing solely on the steps, even blocking out the soft moaning of the elleth some meters away. He relaxed his muscles and leveled out his breathing, but his hand grabbed his knife steadfastly. And he waited.

Time seemed to stretch out. Every second brought a million of impressions: the slither of heavy clothing, the ticking of a staff, the burning of the candles, the games of shadow and fluttering light, the shifting of a half-conscious body. The halting of the steps.

Aragorn jumped. Within the blink of an eye, his muscles were tensed and his knife had left the protection of his booth. He swung his arm with all his might. Because of his head wound, he couldn't steady himself soon enough, and he found himself being dragged forward by his weapon, stumbling towards his opponent.

But it seemed to work. His blade was obstructed somewhere at its utmost reach, indicating he had hit something. Aragorn allowed himself a small laugh.

Then, a hard wooden staff collided with his head, and he knew nothing more.

Hope you liked it! I promise you will get answers the next chapter :P See you later! :)

xXx Archiril