|Reviews for An Eye For An Eye|
| sexyninjalady chapter 3 . 3/17/2010
If Aragorn is 20 something in this and in his 80's? in LOTR then how old is Asfaloth,Glorfindel's horse?
| nightcrawler chapter 22 . 1/23/2010
what! its over? SON OF AN ORC! lol just kidding great story!
| Feuerregen chapter 21 . 5/21/2009
Ich bin ehrlich:
Ich habe mir zwischendurch und am Ende die Tränen nicht verkneifen können.
Die ganze Story ist wunderbar geschrieben, die Emotionen sind greifbar, mir taten manchmal sogar Körperstellen weh, wenn verletzungen während des Kampfes beschrieben wurden und besonders immer wieder der Kopf, wenn Aragorn auf ein neues gegen den Baum donnerte. Es tat weh, verdammt!
Aber ich muss sagen, Legolas' Pferd war immer wieder ein schöner Lichtblick, vor allem, als Elrohir mit blutiger Hand zu den anderen aufschloss.
Es ist herrlich, auf was für einer innigen und eigentlich nciht als Freundschaft zu bezeichenden Ebene du Aragorns und Legolas beziehung gehalten hast. Ich finde, dafür reicht sogar die Bezeichnung "Liebe" nicht aus.
Aber auch Nolad ist mir im Laufe der Story ans Herz gewachsen. Es war fast schon grausam zu lesen, wie zerrissen er zwischen Treue und gesundem Menschenverstand war.
Ich hoffe aufrichtig, noch weitere Werke aus deiner Feder lesen zu dürfen!
| Mare chapter 22 . 9/15/2008
Very nice ending - it looks like (almost) everything turned out wonderfully. :)
| Mare chapter 16 . 9/15/2008
Haha, I love how Elrond plays a much bigger part in this story then I have seen in other stories. He is actually out and about! And getting knives pressed against his throat! That's so awesome.
| Mare chapter 14 . 9/15/2008
Ah hah hah, awesome. I love it when writers hurt the characters - it makes the story just the much more fun! :D
| Mare chapter 9 . 9/15/2008
Ah-hah-hah, yeah - the amount of times that Estel has been hit up-side the head in this story.. I'm quite surprised he hasn't at least had a concussion or something. XD
It's a pleasure reading your work, so keep up the fantastic writing, kay?
| black4minister chapter 22 . 8/30/2008
oh my god-i think that is one of the best stories i have ever read. i loved the story line-so full an dcomplicated and the characters you invented are brillent. i hated you abit along the way though, with all those cliffys and bashings of our fantastic four. but it all worked out ok-such a brillent story. i'm off now to read the rest of your stories so watch this space for more reviews...
| asdfjkl chapter 22 . 7/22/2008
flipping awesome! except for the fact that mellonamin looks like melanomin (the skin stuff) at a glance, this was a very good story. beautifully angsty without going overboard, people who were injured stayed injured, and the plot was very interesting!
thank you! keep writing :D
| Thais of the Star chapter 22 . 7/15/2008
This is really a fantastic story. It's nice to see an author who is not only good with conceptualizing stories like this but also writting them well, and you're done a fantastic job here.
Can't wait to move on to the others you're written!
Thais of the Star
| OcherMe chapter 22 . 3/31/2008
Well, I know its been what...5 years since you wrote this story, but I'm going to give you a review anyways:)
Wow. That's pretty much all I can say. I read this whole thing in less then 24 hours (which didn't make my mom to happy, believe me) and I have to say this is pretty much the most amazing fanfic I've read in a very, very long time. I can always tell a good fanfic when it gives me butterflies in my stomach, and believe me, my stomach nearly ripped open and flew out of my body. It was literally that amazing. Especially for being the first piece you've ever written.
I really needed this too. Around the time you wrote this I was very heavily into LOTR fanfics, obviously brought on by Cassia and Siobhan of course, but I slowly have integrated to Twilight fanfics. They were good at first, but there is seriously a lack of good writers in the Twilight fanfiction world. So I decided to venture back into the world of LOTR again, and whose is the first story I read? YOURS of course:) And now I am thoroughly addicted, once again. And I have only you to blame for that:)
Anyways, this is getting long, but I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed your fic, nearly 5 years later:) I am anxious to read more of your work, and am glad to see you are still writing:) I look forward to more!
| StarLight9 chapter 22 . 2/12/2008
Hey! I read this amazing story a few months ago and finally got the chance to review. What can I say - great angst, great action, great humor... what more can a girl ask for? I have to admit something - so many people had told me before that you are a great author, and your stories had been recommended to me by so many readers I trust completely, that for a while I was tempted to add you to fav. authors even before reading your stories :) Well, I decided against it, but now after I have read this I can easily add you to favs :D
I would have reviewed every chapter, this story definitely deserved it, but I didn't have internet access while reading it. I knew that I would have no internet for a while, so I downloaded it on my laptop, so that I could read. I read in in one go. It took me 2 days and a half - I could hardly put it down.
There is nothing I would have changed about this story. Of course, I am sad that Nolad had to die, but it was the logical development. He is definitely one of the best OC's I have read.
I am sorry I can't write more right now, I have to go and I read this a while ago, so I don't remember all details, but I remember that one of my favorite moments was when Legolas arrives injured and half-delirious and asks "Elrohir, why is your hair green?" It was incredible!
I also liked how the main theme - revenge, an eye for an eye - was represented in the humorous pranks at the begining. Estel dyes his brothers hair green to revenge something, then Elldan seeks revenge, and they continue playing pranks on each other, following the "an eye for an eye" idea. But when someone seeks revenge on them, they unite and stand together. I don't know if this was intentional, actually I think it probably wan't, but it turned out nicely.
I will definitely check your other works when I have time.
| horntail07 chapter 4 . 10/10/2007
Great story! It's very well written and it has a fabulous plot!
| Laermeluion chapter 8 . 10/8/2007
Well...*glares at author for the cliffie*. Another nice chapter! I'm going to review the way I would have done if I have read this when you first posted like any other story, which means section by section! Yes, I know, it will be damn, freaking long, but well, one can't help it can she? Now comes the review! Oh well, just so you won't get confused, the reviews are in between the sections...
The first thing Aragorn noticed when his mind slowly began to make its way back towards consciousness was the constant trickle of water that hit his face. His face that hurt every time a droplet of water hit his skin.
A second later, he became aware of another feeling thoroughly familiar to him: Pain. This time, it was a throbbing pain that seemed to be located just behind his forehead, as if a hundred tiny dwarves were working behind his brow with their pick-axes. And, it seemed, these dwarves were very focused on forcing their way through the bone. Trying to ease the pressure behind his eyes, the young human shifted slightly, only to freeze when he felt a thousand different hurts make their presence known to him, steeling his breath away.
Aragorn desperately attempted to collect his scattered thoughts and wrecked his brain that seemed to hurt just as badly as the rest of his body to find out what kind of mess he had gotten himself into this time.
‘I feel almost as bad as that time Elrohir dared me to climb the beech tree blindfolded,’ he thought as he tried to make his body obey his commands.
That memory seemed to trigger something in the ranger’s brain, something to do with trees … climbing trees … Fervently wishing to remember why he felt as bad as the time when he had broken eight bones at once (if one counted the bones in the two broken fingers separately), he tried to wipe away the moisture that was running over his face – only to find that he couldn’t.
All of a sudden bolting wide awake, he noticed for the first time that his hands were securely bound behind his back.
‘Well, that rules out the twins, for sure,’ an annoyingly calm part of his mind stated while the rest of him was well on its way to a full-blown panic. To wake up cold and wet, with his hands bound behind him and feeling as if he had just fallen out of a tree was not his idea of a good day. Falling out of trees …
Aragorn gasped inwardly when he realized that the only reason why he felt as if he had fallen out of a tree was the very simple fact that he had indeed done just that. But what about the men … and the elf, no the two elves who had appeared out of nowhere and caused him to fall in the first place?
He grimaced when he imagined what his brothers and Legolas would say when they heard he had actually fallen out of a tree. Especially Legolas would remind him of it at any given opportunity, after mothering him to no end, of course.
Struggling to open his eyes, he couldn’t hold back a cry of pain when he felt a boot connect with his right side, which caused his already hurting chest to explode in pain. His eyes flew open almost by themselves as he tried to locate his attacker.
Blinking furiously to get rid of the stars that danced before his eyes, he looked up into the face of a human when the world finally seemed to shift back into focus. A human with dark hair that the pouring rain had plastered close to his head and cruel eyes, a human he had seen before … The leader of the men that had attacked him, he realized suddenly.
Donyc smiled down at the young human who lay on the wet grass before him, a nasty twinkle in his dark eyes. Lifting his foot to give Aragorn another kick, he asked him in a pleasant voice,
“Did you sleep well, ranger? Welcome back. Not so cocky now, are we?”
When he was just about to kick at the young human’s ribcage again, a slim hand grabbed him tightly by the arm, dragging him backwards. Aragorn sagged slightly and closed his eyes, concentrating on breathing deeply and evenly. Over the sound of his laboured gasps for breath he could hear the man and the person who had saved him from further abuse argue softly.
“Don’t you remember your orders, Donyc? He is not to be harmed unnecessarily! We need him alive!”
“Eru, I didn’t mean to kill him! I was just checking if he was awake, that’s all. And he is.”
Aragorn could almost hear the doubtful expression on the other’s face when he replied.
“And all you gave him was a friendly little nudge, I presume? No, Master Human,” he interrupted Donyc when he wanted to respond, “Spare me your excuses. Could you please notify him that the ranger has awoken and that we are ready to leave?”
The sound of shuffling feet and low grumbling could be heard before the human commander moved off and the other person stepped closer to where Aragorn lay.
He opened his eyes to see the one of the elves who had caused his rather ungraceful fall the day before. ‘Was it really the day before?’ Aragorn asked himself.
The sun was apparently just rising, had he really been unconscious for the rest of the day and the night as well?
The elf in front of him crouched low to meet the human’s eyes, giving him a chance to study his face closely. Somehow, he reminded him of Legolas with his fair hair and delicately chiselled features, apart from the fact that his eyes were of a grey several shades lighter than his own.
‘No,’ he thought, ‘This one is a lot older. There is something in his eyes…’
He looked up into the elf’s face and asked, still struggling to get his breathing under control,
“Ya naa lle?”
Nólad hid a smile when he heard the proud timbre in the young one’s voice, even though he could see fear lurk in the depths of the boy’s silver eyes. This one was no coward. He ignored the human’s question and began to check his wounds. Looking for signs that Donyc’s kick had somehow ripped open the stitches he himself had placed in the ranger’s side, he answered in the same language.
“I wouldn’t antagonize Donyc if I were you. He is not a patient man and, I think, he has taken a certain dislike to you. He is not happy with your actions from yesterday afternoon.”
Aragorn looked at the elf with wide eyes.
“He is not happy with me? And what, pray tell, did I do to deserve such feelings?”
“You killed one of his men. From what I gathered, a rather close friend of his,” Nólad answered, buttoning up the human’s shirt.
“Oh,” Aragorn replied, dumb-struck. That had probably been the one he had shot at the very beginning. “I’m sorry.”
The fair haired elf raised his head to meet the human’s eyes, and, to his surprise, he saw nothing but regret and sincerity there.
Gazing at the elf seriously, Aragorn tried again.
“Who are you? What do you want with me? I do not even know you!”
Laughing slightly, Nólad rose as he saw his friend approach with Donyc and two other humans.
“No, I do not imagine you would. The other questions you'd better ask my lord, but one thing I can tell you: I am Nólad. A pleasure to meet you, dúnadan,” he replied sarcastically just as the others arrived at his side.
The dark haired elf studied Aragorn’s face with such intensity that the human found it very hard not to avert his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep eye contact. He looked into the other one’s dark eyes and couldn’t help but shiver when he saw the hate there, a hate that was not aimed at him, he noted with surprise. Wrinkling his forehead slightly, Aragorn looked closer and saw that the hate was only partially directed at him; the elf looked at him as though he was but the means to an end, an end that the ranger didn’t really want to think about.
Without taking his dark eyes off Aragorn’s face, the elf said in a soft voice,
“So the edan has woken at last. And I had feared he would sleep through his whole stay here, what would have been most tragic indeed.”
Aragorn didn’t answer; something inside his heart told him to alienate this elf as little as possible.
The dark haired elf turned to Nólad, for the moment dismissing Aragorn’s presence.
“Are we ready to leave?”
„Yes, my lord, we are. We can be gone in five minutes.”
The other elf gave a slight nod and directed his gaze to Donyc.
“Make sure we can leave in five minutes. Try to leave as few signs of your presence as possible. We will ride north as quickly as we can.”
The human commander nodded and motioned at one of his companions, the young Seobryn, Nólad noted, to follow him, which he did, after giving Aragorn a wide-eyed look of something akin to admiration.
Nólad’s companion looked at the last remaining human and studied him closely, causing the man to drop his eyes to the ground and scrutinize his shoes.
“You know what you have to do?”
The man nodded, not raising his eyes to meet the elf’s gaze.
“Very well then. Here is the letter,” he handed the human a small, leather-bound, undecorated messenger tube, without a display of the customary elven characters on the outside. The dark haired elf stared hard at the man.
“Don’t deliver it before the next day has passed, that should give us enough time. And,” the elf stressed the last words, “Do not lose it.”
The man swallowed nervously a few times, trying to avoid the elf’s eyes.
“No, sir, I won’t. You can count on me. It will reach its destination in time.”
The dark haired elf’s eyes burned into those of the human.
“I hope so,” he said softly.
The man took two hasty steps backwards and excused himself, making his way back to his companions as quickly as he could, closely followed by Nólad.
Aragorn looked at the elf with wide eyes, unable to stifle his curiosity any longer.
“Who are you?” he asked, “What do you want from me?”
The elf looked at him, an almost insane light shining in his eyes.
“From you? Nothing, my young edan, I want nothing from you. You are merely the bait for my trap. The means to catch much older and larger fish, if you want to put it that way.”
Aragorn stared at him, confusion clearly showing on his face. Then, slowly, understanding began to dawn on him. This elf wanted his family.
“Ada…” he whispered, desperately trying to figure out what this strange elf could want from his father.
The elf laughed coldly.
“Well done, young one, well done. Yes, we will see how much your ada ,” he stressed the word mockingly, “Is willing to sacrifice to get you back.”
“No, I don’t desire money, what should I want with gold?” he explained when he saw the look in the human’s eyes, “Something much more precious: Revenge. Revenge for what he has done to me so many years ago.”
The young ranger looked at him in disgust.
“Elrond has done nothing you could wish to avenge! He would never harm another one deliberately!” he spat, eyeing the dark haired elf.
The only warning Aragorn received was a flicker in the dark eyes that bore into his before a fist smashed into the side of his face, snapping his head backwards. Before his vision had even had a chance to clear, he felt a strong hand grab his head by the hair and pull him painfully closer to the elf’s face.
“Do not speak of things you cannot even begin to comprehend, human!” the elf hissed venomously. “There is a good deal you don’t know about your precious ada. Not even the revered Lord Elrond Peredhil is perfect!”
Letting go of the human, he took a deep breath to calm himself.
“But,” he added in a more civil voice, “Since we will be spending the next few days together, it is only fair that you should learn my name, ranger. You may call me Cornallar.”
He took a step back and looked at the ranger, beckoning a man nearby to come closer.
“We will leave shortly. I advise you not to try and escape or make this harder on all of us than it already is anyway. I’d prefer you to be alive, but I could settle for you dead.”
He turned in the pouring rain and left Aragorn behind, who was still lying on the ground, trying to recover from the last blow that had renewed his fierce headache and wondering what his father could possibly have done to deserve such all-consuming hatred. And how he had managed to find himself right in the middle of it.
When he was hoisted to his feet and dragged into the direction of the horses by the man Cornallar had instructed to guard him, he wrecked his brain trying to remember where he had heard that name before.
Oh my...poor Estel. Indeed, what the freaking hell had Elrond done this time to earn the wrath of some particular elves? Well...you did tell us the name of this said evil elf, however, is this his true name? Or is he lying? Hm...*mind working overtime trying to decide*.
Melkor take it all!”
Elladan looked over to where his brother was standing in front of what had been a campfire some time ago, giving the cold ashes a fierce kick. Quickly checking the positions of the other elves who had accompanied them from Rivendell, he walked over to Elrohir and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Calm down, brother. You won’t help Estel this way.”
Elrohir gazed at him with wide, despairing eyes, a look of self-loathing and accusation in his eyes that had only intensified since they had arrived at the ravine an hour ago. Elladan shuddered at the memory. One needn’t be an elf to read the signs that still remained there to discover that Estel had been involved in a fight with more than ten humans and had very obviously lost. Which was a logical development, since he had been injured and alone … alone because he hadn’t been with him …
Elrohir’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.
“Calm down? How can I possibly calm down, Elladan? You can interpret the tracks just as well as I can!” The younger twin threw back the hood of his cloak that protected him against the torrential rain and glared at his brother.
“Whoever has taken him has been gone for at least four hours! The trail is leading north, and you know that if they reach the wilds before we can catch up with them, there is no way we can find signs of their passage, for this rain will have washed away all tracks before we can even get to them!”
Elladan had to agree; it was tricky enough to track anything in the stony terrain to the far north of Rivendell under the best of circumstances, but today…
Elrohir turned round and stared at the falling rain, not caring if he was drenched to the bone or not.
“And you saw that blood right under the tree just as clearly as I did,” he added so softly that his brother almost didn’t catch his words.
Elladan squeezed his eyes shut when the truth of his brother’s words began to sink in. Estel had been captured and was most probably injured, and he wouldn’t be able to track those responsible. He had just lost his little brother. Lost him … lost him …
The words seemed to ring mockingly in his head, threatening to drive him insane. He clasped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sounds.
‘What are we going to tell father?’ he wondered despairingly.
Elrohir turned when he heard a soft sound of dismay behind him, only to see his elven brother stand there, hands over his ears and silent tears trailing down his cheeks, mixing with the rain that hit his face. Without a second thought he crossed the distance between them and pulled his brother into a firm hug.
“Shh, don’t worry, Elladan, we will find him. He is going to be alright. We will find him…” he whispered, fighting for control over his own emotions.
“It’s my fault. I wasn’t there to protect him. I swore I would always be there to protect him. I promised, I took a vow at Arathorn’s grave that I would protect his son. I promised, Elrohir… If I had only come with you…” the older twin ground out between sobs.
Elrohir tightened his hold on his twin, blinking furiously through the tears that spilled over his face.
“Then nothing would have changed, brother. If anyone is to blame, it is me. I left him, not you. We are not like ada, we do not foresee things like this, and even he didn’t this time. This is not your fault.”
A little noise behind them attracted their attention, and Elrohir lifted his head to see one of the captains of the guard, Isál, who looked very uncomfortable having to disturb them.
“Pardon the interruption, my lords, but we have finished our survey. There is only one set of tracks that is leading straight north, about four hours old. We counted nineteen horses, but,” he interrupted himself and glanced at the sons of Elrond, “Two of them are definitely elvish.”
“What did you say?” Elladan asked as he ran a hand over his face, having regained his composure somewhat.
“There were two elven horses here, my lord, and we found sign of elvish presence. No more than three or four though,” the other elf explained.
The twins looked at each other in confusion.
“Why would an elf want to capture Estel?” Elrohir asked frowning.
“I don’t know,” admitted the captain, brushing a wet strand of hair out of his face, “But if we want to find out, we will have to leave now.”
Elladan nodded, running a hand over his reddened eyes.
“Aye, you are right, Isál. The others are ready to leave?” he asked, looking for the troupe of five other elves who had insisted to come and help them look for the missing human.
“Yes, my lords. We can leave. And don’t worry,” he added, with a look at the faces of his young lords, “We will find him. Estel will be alright.”
Elrohir nodded his thanks.
“Thank you, Isál. I pray to the Valar that you are right, mellonamin .”
The three elves made their way to their horses, determined not to give up before they had turned the whole of Rivendell inside out.
Urgh...why, why, why? Must you torture the twins so? *heart breaking* I wish that they will find their little brother before its too late... Come on, Elrohir... you know this is Estel's own fault. If he hadn't been so stubborn, this would never have happened! Am I right? Heh...
Aragorn was getting worried. In the beginning he had hoped his brothers, who had certainly assembled a search party by now, would find them, but soon enough he realized that that was a futile hope. The orders Donyc had given his men were clear enough: They were to make their way north into the wilds as quickly as possible. And despite the horrible weather they had made good time, the jagged rocks that were so characteristic for that area were visible just in front of them.
‘Well, whoever this Cornallar is,’ he mused, ducking his head to avoid some of the pouring rain, ‘He is not stupid. Insane, maybe, but not stupid. And he knows the terrain well – a little too well for my liking.’
He knew that the dark haired elf had chosen the only way possible to avoid detection: He would try to escape into the stony region to the north that stretched for miles, marking the very beginning of the enormous ravine Elrond had chosen to found Imladris in. In this rain not even the twins could hope to pick up the trail there.
’But what is he planning to do then? He cannot hope to slip past them indefinitely, sooner or later they will find us, unless …’
His trail of thought was interrupted when his horse was sharply jerked to a stop. He raised his head to look right into Donyc’s dark eyes, and sighed inwardly. Since they had left the camp, Donyc had kept him right behind him, making sure that he didn’t “try anything”.
‘Although,’ he commented dryly to himself, ‘I have the distinct feeling that nothing would please him more than an escape attempt on my part.’
The human gave him a malicious look.
“Well, ranger, I guess it’s time for you to do something, for a change. Get off!”
Aragorn kept his face expressionless as he struggled to get out of the saddle, which was not an easy task with his hands bound behind him and feeling as if he had just fallen victim to one of the twin’s more elaborate plots, but somehow he managed to dismount without falling flat on his face. He surveyed his surrounding quickly, searching for the reason of this course of action and finding it soon enough: The only way to get down onto the rocky plain was to climb down a narrow path that wound its way down a steep slope. There was no way the horses would manage that descent burdened with their riders.
Giving another mental sigh when he thought of the climb that lay ahead, he turned back to Donyc, who looked decidedly unhappy that the young human had not fallen off his horse. Seeing the looks of anger and disappointment flash across the man’s face, Aragorn couldn’t help but give him a small smile of satisfaction, which turned out to be a mistake real quick.
One moment he was on his feet watching the hilt of a knife connect with his temple, the next he found himself lying in the mud, trying very hard not to lose consciousness. Over the noise the dwarves in his head were creating, obviously encouraged beyond all measure by this new blow to his already throbbing head, he could hear agitated voices talk to each other, but however hard he tried, they just wouldn’t make sense.
A moment later he found himself being hauled to his feet by a strong arm and looked up past the blood that flowed freely from his re-opened head wound to meet the dark eyes of his elven captor, who looked at him with something akin to amusement.
“Already causing trouble, ranger? I seem to remember having warned you against it.”
He gave Aragorn a none too gentle shove that very nearly sent him back to his knees and turned back to the head of the column, glancing back over his shoulder to give Donyc a mildly disapproving look.
“Try to be a bit more careful, Master Human, will you? We can’t have him die on us yet.”
Donyc grinned and grabbed the young human, pushing him in front of him and into the direction of the path.
“One of these days they won’t be there to protect you, ranger, trust me. And then you and I will finish this, without disturbances. I’m looking forward to it,” he whispered softly into his ear, causing the other human to flinch away from him.
No, Aragorn decided as he made his way down the path, trying to find safe spots to place his feet despite the hammering pain in his head, that was something he really didn’t wish experience.
Yes! finally, some minor mistakes at the end...can't spot it yet? The last sentence should be: that was something he really didn't wish to experience. There is the mistake. Found it? *runs from furious author* Anyway, nice descriptions here though. Evil Donyc. Can't he leave the poor ranger alone?
Legolas swiftly arranged what little he had left of dry wood to a small campfire as best as he could in the surrounding darkness and, taking out his flint and one of his knifes, ignited the fuel, stoking it to a small, merrily flickering fire. Staring for a moment into the flames, he paused for a moment to thank Ilúvatar that he had finally managed to get off the mountains and into the softly sloping lands of Eriador.
‘I still cannot believe it!’ he mused dryly, ‘’Tis probably just a figment of my imagination.’
He pinched himself just to make sure, but no, this was real and he had truly escaped the wrath of the Misty Mountains and the goblins.
‘Not a moment too early,’ the prince thought, relieving his horse of its burdens, ‘If I never again see a snowflake, it will be too soon.’
After currying his horse, which munched away happily at the grass that still grew in this season, he sat down next to the fire, unwrapping the bandages he had hastily applied the night before. He had not felt at ease in the mountains and had only stopped briefly to bind his wounds and make sure his horse had not been harmed, before mounting again and riding on into the night. He had travelled through the night and most of the day, only taking a few rests, and now that he finally found himself safe in the flat lands west of the mountains, he had decided that his horse needed some rest if he didn’t want it to collapse.
Stifling a yawn, he amended, ‘And I could use a little sleep as well.’
Returning his attention to the task at hand, Legolas let the bloodied bandages fall to the ground, flicking them into the fire with the tip of his boot. With his luck, the smell of fresh blood would attract every wild beast within a radius of ten leagues.
Irritated he pushed the edges of his open shirts away from his chest, exposing the wound. It was not as bad as it had seemed yesterday, but it was angry-looking and red, and the skin around it was hot to the touch.
‘Infection,’ he thought, sighing inwardly, ‘Great. Just what I needed. Lord Elrond will be so happy to see me.’
He reached for his pack and extracted some dried athelas from it; even though the dried plant was not nearly as potent as the freshly cut herb and he had no means to heat water, it would at least stem the infection. After rewrapping his side, he removed the linen straps from his upper left arm, wincing as he ripped the freshly closed wound open again and bright red blood flowed freely from the cut. Ignoring the pain that shot through his arm, he probed the wound with the tip of his knife, looking for dirt or signs of inflammation. To his gratitude and surprise, he found neither, and after washing the cut that ran from his shoulder to his elbow, he dressed it again, giving a sigh of relief.
‘Well, I will live,’ the fair haired prince decided wryly, ‘At least until Estel finds out about this. He will fret over me for days and will then force every single foul potion Elrond can come up with down my throat. Just like the last time. A Elbereth, I should have stayed with the goblins!’
Leaning back against a dark tree trunk, he relaxed and waited for the familiar feeling of dread to set in, but – just like yesterday and the day before – nothing happened. Sighing deeply, he mused darkly that he almost wished these feelings would return, so that he would know there was still something, anything, he could do to help his friends. No, he decided, it was too late now. He could only try to reach Rivendell as quickly as possible and do what he could to help his human friend – for he was sure the young ranger was in some sort of danger – get out of whatever situation he had managed to manoeuvre himself into.
‘I’m only half a day away from Amon Siril, and tomorrow afternoon I should reach Imladris, even if I sleep now for a few hours. O the Valar, please don’t let me be too late! If I had only been swifter! I should have left Mirkwood as soon as I began to have these feelings! I should have sent a carrier pigeon. I should have …’
With these troubled thoughts on his mind, Legolas trusted his horse’s keen senses to alert him to any danger and allowed himself to drift off into an unconscious state, his last vision before sleep overtook him being the sight of Strider’s still body, lying bleeding in the mud.
Ew...*crying* Estel lying bleeding in the mud? Oh valar, let's hope it was just a dream! Poor Legolas...injured...again...why am I not surprised? Yes! he had better live! If not...*curse at certain Mirkwood prince* He had to save Estel! he had to! And yes, Elrond would be so happy to patch him up once again. Lol...
Elrond stood at the gates of Rivendell, glaring at a servant who had just suggested that he come inside and await his sons’ arrival there. Suppressing his flaring temper, the Lord of Imladris took a deep breath and stated calmly,
“No, thank you. I’m just fine right where I am. I’m sure they will arrive soon, and then I’ll come inside.”
The servant bowed and nodded, knowing that there was no way to make his lord abandon his place before the search party had returned.
‘Elbereth, this family is stubborn! One worse than the other!’ he mused as he made his way over the dark courtyard back inside the main house, shooting a fervent glance over his shoulder at the dark haired elf, who hadn’t moved from where he had been standing for the past four or five hours.
‘Oh, that went well, Peredhil,’ Elrond chastised himself, ‘Now you start frightening the servants, excellent.’
Abandoning all attempts to appear calm, he started pacing back and forth in front of the huge, ornamented gates, his thoughts going in circles with worry and despair.
After what felt like ages he finally heard the sound of riders approaching the Last Homely House, and he straightened his back to face the inevitable with at least some of his usual dignity and composure.
When the first rider appeared in his field of vision, he felt as if an iron fist had reached inside his chest and crushed his heart, filling him with coldness and despair. He didn’t need to ask them if they had found Estel, the air of failure and hopelessness that hung above the small group was so thick one could almost reach out and grasp it.
He leaned against one of the posts, closing his eyes and trying very hard not to listen to the voice that echoed through his mind.
‘You knew something was out there and you did nothing. You let him go. You’ve lost the Hope of Men. You’ve lost your son, you’ve lost Estel…’
After a while he heard a softly spoken voice over the noise of the shrieking voices ask,
Elrond didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t want to see the same pain he felt reflected in his son’s eyes.
“You did not find him.” It was a statement, not a question.
Elladan drew in a shaking breath.
“No, father, I am sorry. We tracked him to the ravine, he fought with at least twelve men there, and he lost. They apparently took him with them and travelled north, into the wilds, and we lost their trail there. We couldn’t find him. I’m sorry, ada, I am so sorry…” the oldest twin’s voice broke, unable to contain the suppressed emotions any longer.
At the sound of his son’s distress Elrond opened his eyes to see the search party stand before him, soaked to the skin and looking discouraged and exhausted. With a nod he dismissed the warriors.
“Thank you, Isál, if you go to the kitchens you will find that a meal is already prepared for you and your men. Your help is greatly appreciated.”
Isál bowed low before his lord, guilt clearly visible on his fair features.
“Yes, my lord, thank you. I’m sorry, we couldn’t find him, we will try again tomorrow.”
Elrond nodded his agreement and turned to his twin sons as Isál and the five other elves made their way to the house, shoulders slumped dejectedly.
The twins looked definitely the worse for wear, drenched to the bone and with despair in their eyes that shone brightly with unshed tears.
His parental instincts getting the upper hand over his other emotions, he put an arm around each of them and walked them firmly into the direction of the house.
“Ada, I …” Elrohir began, but was cut off by his father as soon as he had opened his mouth.
“No, Elrohir, there is no need to explain anything. You did what you could. You all did. We will talk about what you found out as soon as you have changed into dry clothes and have eaten something. And then you will drink a cup of tea and go to bed, and sleep for at least six hours until you have regained your strength, and then you may go out and take up the search once more.”
At the thought of his youngest out there in the rain and cold, in the hands of unknown men who planned to do Valar-know-what to him, Elrond’s heart clenched in pain and fury. They would pay the price for their actions, by Elbereth’s stars, he would make sure of that.
“Yes, and the last part will be guaranteed by said tea, I presume,” Elladan muttered, trying to keep his thoughts off his little brother’s fate.
Elrond didn’t reply, his thoughts fixed on Estel as he urged his two other sons towards the main house.
‘They will regret this,’ he decided firmly when he crossed the threshold of the house, ‘They will regret having ever laid hands on my son when I’m through with them.’
Poor little family. Grieving for Estel. I sincerely hope that they will find Estel soon...*looks at author threateningly* You have better make sure that Estel survive at the end! Or else *aim arrow at author and ready to shoot*. Yes, guess you got my message? Well, I certainly felt their pain. Don't give up!
Heh...didn't I warn you that it will be a long review? And a long review from me means that a very happy reader is reviewing! yap...I love your story a lot!
Your faithful reviewer
| Laermeluion chapter 7 . 10/8/2007
Hi! Don't kill me please? I know I'm really, really, really late in reviewing, but I didn't start reading your story until, erm...last Saturday! Lol... Anyway, I must say that your English is really good! Blast you! Even if my first language is English, it's still not as good as you! *curse author and give her a dark look* No fair! Hehe, ok ok I love this story so far, and I can't wait to read the next chapter to find out the evil elf's name!
PS: I plan to read every story that you have ever written, starting from this, so, I might be very late in reviewing your current story! *runs away from author*
Your faithful reviewer