Chapter 2 (For disclaimer see chapter one)

Chapter 2 Nightly Visitors

Strider was sitting comfortably on a chair in the kitchen, the child on his lap and a bowl of sweet smelling gruel on the table before him. He had laid down his travelling pack, sword and bow and some of his numerous other weapons and was now busy feeding the young human. The little child was quite contend in playing with the spoon in the rangers hand and chuckled every time the man made a kind of somersault with it, before placing it in the child’s mouth.

The ranger was still tired to the bones, but the surprise of finding his brothers and Legolas with a human child had driven the tiredness out of his mind for a moment. He wondered why the human was in Rivendell, and more demanding, in his fathers care. It was not unusual that the Lord of Imladris sheltered weary travellers or merchants or people in need of aid, the Last Homely House was open for anyone seeking help. But an edan child, all alone, with no parents around? That was not something that happened every day. Sighing, both out of curiosity and weariness, the human again lifted the spoon high into the air, making the small bundle on his lap bounce with happiness.
As he heard soft footsteps behind him and the soft rustling of robes, he turned his head and asked the evident question: “Ada, what is this child doing all alone in Imladris?” Placing one slender hand onto the rangers arm that held the child, the elf took a seat on the table and began to explain. The child was the only son of a farmer and his wife. The farm of the married couple had burned down, leaving the family with nothing but ashes and dust. Having nothing left, the family had set out towards the farmers brother, who lived in Bree. The brother had agreed to take them in. On their way to Bree, the family had passed through a rather dangerous area and been attacked by wolves. Nobody had been injured, thanks to the help of the blond Mirkwood archer.
Legolas, on his way to Rivendell to deliver a message from his father, the King of Mirkwood, had heard the humans cry for help and had saved the family from the hungry animals. Deeming it not save to travel on with the little child, the humans had persuaded Legolas to take the child to Rivendell and to care for him until the couple could return safely with a larger amount of men, to bring the child unharmed to Bree. Legolas had refused, of course. He was no baby sitter, but a fine warrior and prince of an elven realm. But the look in the humans faces had made the archer change his mind. In the end he had agreed to take the whole family to Rivendell, get them a squad of elves and to make sure that they all reached Bree safely. The humans, however, had other plans. They were not afraid of elves, but a whole town of them? They were sure the elves would not harm the child, but they themselves felt not comfortable with the idea. To cut the story short, Legolas had in the end taken the child to Rivendell and the couple was on its way to Bree. The boy would remain with the elves until the family would be reunited.

Bouncing the boy on his knees, Strider asked the name of the child. He couldn’t call it child or little boy all the time, could he? “His name is Taran, son of Torian.” “So, Taran is your name then. Hm, seems to suit you, Taran, son of Torian.” Although his fathers story sounded convincing enough, not all that had been said, or rather, not said. Made sense to the ranger. Perhaps it was his tired mind, but his instincts told the man that something was not as it should be. Why would a family leave their only child in the care of strangers? And why refuse a squad of elves and rather travel alone? It was something that came to the rangers mind, a mystery around the little boy that was not yet revealed. “Ada, it seems as if Legolas develops a habit of rescuing humans. Has he said anything else? Perhaps why the parents refused to wait for a squad?” “No. Legolas only mentioned that the parents of this child looked tired and haunted.” “I guess that is to be expected in a situation like theirs,” having said that, the ranger tried to suppress a yawn. From the look that came to his fathers face, unsuccessfully.

Elrond just raised an elegant eyebrow and turned asking eyes to his son. “Yes, ada, I have travelled through the night to reach Imladris today, and yes, I am tired, but no,” here the human shook his head, “I am not so tired that I need to go to bed now. And,” he added as an afterthought, “before you ask, I am not injured, or ill, or starved, or poisoned, or….” “Estel, stop that, I think I’ve got the point. But, my son, you might be not injured, but you are rather filthy, as usual. I recommend a bath.” Strider could have sworn that his fathers eyes had laughed out loud at that last comment, but his fathers face only showed a mild smile.

Looking at Taran the ranger recognized that the boy had stopped playing with the by now empty spoon and had turned his big blue eyes onto the rangers face, as if asking what was going on. His face looked as if the child awaited an answer of some kind. Smiling, Strider bounced the boy on his knees one more time and said in a low voice: “You know, Taran, I think he is right. I really need a bath.” With that the ranger tried to hand the child to his father, but as soon as he lifted the boy off his knees, the once handsome face turned into a twisted grimace and the wailing began anew. The little boy cried and wailed, his little hands balled into fists and tears streaming down his pink face. All in all it was a heartbreaking sight. Strider took the boy back onto his lap, facing him and tried to comfort him: “Hush, penneth. Al-nir (don`t cry). All is right. Shh, little one.” As the child just continued to cry, his face wet from tears, Strider glanced pitifully at his father. What could they do? When the Lord of Imladris merrily shrugged his shoulders, the ranger looked at the child again and sighed audibly. “Mae (good/alright). I won’t go away, penneth. I will not leave you alone….” The child immediately sobered up and stopped crying, “….with this prissy elves.” His last statement was rewarded with a definite snicker from the child and a raised eyebrow from his father.
Turning towards the Lord of Imladris, the ranger thought for a moment and then asked: “Ada, would you take care of Taran for a little while, while I clean myself up?” Elrond, his elegant eyebrow now nearly vanishing in his hair, just replied in an amused tone: “And how, my dear son, shall I do that with this little man here not wanting to be in the company of us “prissy elves”?” Strider, his head turned slightly to the side, looked Taran in the eyes and said in a conspirational voice: “You know, penneth, you are a big man already. You are stronger than those elves, hm? Would you do me the favour and stay with uncle Elrond here until I come back and fetch you? Could you do that for me?” The child, to both the humans and the elf Lords amazement, looked first at the ranger, than at Elrond, and then at the ranger again, his big blue eyes wide open. He then tilted his head in the same manner Strider had done only moments before and made a sound that sounded like an approval. The ranger smiled at the young boy, nodded and handed the child to his father. This time, the little man stayed quiet. “Hannon le, Taran,” Strider said to the child, and with a slight bow to his father he left the kitchens to finally get his hot bath, the questions over Tarans family momentarily forgotten. Having the child firmly in his arms, the elf chuckled softly. His youngest sons abilities with other beings were just amazing.

“Elladan, I swear, next time you try to strangle me I will tell Ada.” “Oh, Elrohir, don’t be such a…..” the elf never had the chance to finish his sentence, because an annoyed voice cut him short: “Elladan! Could you two not just stop it? Finally, after days, we have a few precious moments of peace from that little amlug (dragon), and you go and spoil it!” Legolas was frustrated and annoyed.

After he had left the Hall of Fire, he had gone to find the twins. Which wasn’t very hard. He just had to follow angry servants, nearly collide with an bewildered Glorfindel and then follow the loud screams that echoed through the gardens. And there, in the end, he had found the troublesome twins, engaged in a rather heavy fight, in which Elladan finally managed to tackle his brother to the ground. The near strangling was “just an accident”, when someone believed the older twin. Which no one did, of course.

“The little princeling is pouting, oh, what shall we do now, my dear brother?” Elladan teased. Elrohir, the strangling not yet forgotten, only smirked, “Well, if you ask me, I’d say we put you and him together in a room, seal the doors, and await who will survive. You know, `Dan, you cannot strangle Legolas so easily. He is faster than you.” Elrohir was pleased with his answer. But he had not counted on his older brother. “Ah, you are right, ´Ro. Legolas is really faster than you are. You are as fast as a snail.” “Hey!” Rolling his eyes, the elven prince just fastened his own steps, eager to reach the house again.

This bickering could go on for hours. He really enjoyed being with the twins, but sometimes…. The terrible twins bickering was not the only thing because of which Legolas wanted to reach the house rather sooner than later. Aragorn was back. He was home.

The prince had hoped to meet the ranger in Imladris, that was why he had volunteered to deliver his fathers message, but deep inside he had known how slim the chances stood to meet the human. Aragorn was not only at home in Rivendell, but in whole Middle-Earth. Everywhere and nowhere. To actually see his best friend now, was like getting away from his father, the King of Mirkwood, when he was in an extraordinarily bad mood. Legolas wanted to speak to the human, to learn where he had been, what he had done and how he fared.

Legolas knew from his own experience that the outer appearance of the ranger could be decisive. He could appear healthy and well, but collapse the next second because he had hidden some injury or another.

Although Legolas knew that Lord Elrond would have taken care of the human by now, he just wanted to make sure that all was as it should be. Even if that meant coming close to that amlug again.

Legolas hastened to the house, nearly running and sprinted up the front stairs leading to the Last Homely House. He turned in the direction of the kitchens, but was halted when he felt a hand on his shoulder: “No need to run, my dear prince. He is taking a bath. You can talk to him soon enough.” Startled, and very embarrassed that the Lord of Rivendell had been able to sneak up on him, which was not good for a warrior, the blond archer turned around and only replied: “Yes, hir Elrond.”
Involuntarily Legolas took a step back, when he saw what was sitting in the Lords arms. The amlug. Elrond raise his elegant eyebrow at Legolas behaviour, but said nothing. Children, they were all the same. Nodding, the elder elf turned and left for his study, the little boy securely in his arms. The child, however, looked over the elf’s lords shoulder at the prince and Legolas could have sworn to see an amused snicker on the child’s face.

Frowning, the prince nearly missed the chuckles coming from behind him. “´Ro, I think we should re name our friend here.” “Yes, I think Lornalas (Sleepy-Leaf) suits better.” Sighing, the blond archer felt the heat creep up his face. Uwh, they would never let him live that one down. Therefore, and to stop the twins snickering, he turned and left the hall, venturing in the direction of Striders room.

If the ranger was already done with bathing, they could continue catching up with what they had experienced during their long separation from each other. Therefore, the blond elf went to his friends room, the still chuckling twins in tow.

When he reached the humans door, he paused for a second and listened. He could hear nothing, which did not mean that Strider was done with bathing or not. Legolas knocked at the door. No reply. He knocked again. “Strider, are you in there?” Still no answer. After a quick glance to the twins and a shrug of both their shoulders, Legolas opened the door to his friends room.

Strider had opened the windows to let the sun shine in and to get rid of the old air that had settled in the room in the humans absence. The curtains were flowing in the soft breeze and the smell of sweet flowers had by now settled in the air. The elves could see that their brother and friend had indeed been in his room. His travelling cloak was draped over a chair, his dirty clothes in a corner on the floor. His sword and longbow were stored in another corner of the room, together with some very muddy and filthy travelling boots. The wooden door to the bathroom stood slightly ajar, and the fine noses of the elves could smell the smell of water and lavender soap. One of Striders favourite soap flavours.

The human himself, however, was not to be found in the bathroom, or the room itself. Frowning, the three elves entered fully and surveyed the room. The chairs and the bed were empty, no ranger in sight. “Perhaps he is already finished and downstairs somewhere?” Elrohir suggested.

The others nodded and they all went to leave the room again, when Legolas suddenly turned around again. Very silently he went to the door leading to the wide balcony. He pushed the already opened door a bit wider and peered outside. The twins could read from the princes face, that he had found the ranger. A huge grin had appeared on the Mirkwoods elf face.

Motioning for the twins to come closer, he laid a finger at his lips to quiet them. Elladan and Elrohir stepped to the prince and took a look outside. The scene before their eyes made them smile, too. Their little brother was nestled comfortably into a fluffy chair on the balcony, completely dressed in clean cloths, the dark hair still wet, and a towel still in hand. He must have dried his hair and fallen asleep on the spot.

Elrohir turned away from the balcony, only to reappear moments later with a blanked from the room, which he draped over his little human brother. It was not that cold outside, not in this late spring season, but with the still wet hair the elf felt saver with the blanket covering his brother. The elves retreated silently and left the room. Once outside, Legolas shook his head. “Humans.” “No,” Elladan corrected him, “Estel”.

The remaining hunters had positioned themselves in a camp just outside the borderline of Rivendell. Their green and brown tents fitted perfectly into the surrounding trees, only visible when someone took a closer look. The tall trees sheltered the tents and the men not only from rain and wind, but also from peering eyes. Those men knew their business. They had built some small fires and had set up guards around the campsite. There wasn’t much they could do at the moment, but sharpen their blades and wait. And waiting, they did.

Dagnir and his second in command had both changed their clothes and now wore soft brown and bright green. They had left most of their weapons behind, too, now only visibly equipped with a broadsword and hunting dagger each. Hidden under their cloaks and clothes the two men wore more deadly weapons. They had set out to get what they had come for, came what may. The hunters would deal with those nasty elves if they had to.

As they neared the city of Imladris and with it the Last Homely House, both checked their disguise one more time. They wanted to appear like travellers that searched for a few days rest and shelter. When they had found what they were looking for, they would leave as fast and soon as possible.

Dagnir drew his old cloak tighter around his broad shoulders and said: “I want to get in and out again in two days. No wasting of time, no idle talk. And only a kill if there is no other way. The last we need now is a dead elf and a horde of those creatures wanting our heads.” Bauglir nodded. He would do what he was told, as always. “Bauglir, did you hear me? No dead elves!” Dagnir pressed.

He knew of his second in commands loyalty. That was why he had chosen him. But he also knew that Bauglir tended to sometimes take his commands rather as “guidelines” and took the matter in his own, very often bloody, hands. Dagnir only tolerated that behaviour, because Bauglir had never failed him before. He knew what he did. This time, his second in command nodded and replied with a dark glance at the forest: “Aye, no dead elves.” Dagnir had not said anything about injured or permanently maimed elves.

When Strider finally awoke, he found that it was dusk already, the sun disappearing behind the golden shining trees of the elven haven. The second thing he realised was a blanket that was spread over his body. Someone must have found him asleep and provided the blanket. A little embarrassed that he had fallen asleep, and even more embarrassed that he had not awoken (he was a ranger after all), the human stood and made his way inside.

While massaging his stiff neck he tossed the now dry towel onto a chair and the blanket onto his bed. He sighed audibly and stretched his limbs. He has had a bath, a nap and now it was time for a proper meal. A proper and warm meal. In the desire to satisfy his stomachs rumbling, the human stretched one last time and then left his room and made his way to the hall for supper.

The hall was warmly lit as the sun had finally decided to go to bed for a nights sleep until it would rose again the next morning. Strider was not too late for dinner, which he registered with an inward sigh of relief. His brothers and Legolas were sitting at the large table, talking quietly with each other. When he entered, they looked up and greeted him: “Mae govannen, sleepy human!” Elrohir chimed in his brother greeting and said: “Aye, we thought we would have to empty a bucket of water over your head to wake you!”

Elrond registered amused, that first the prince of Mirkwood turned a rather interesting shade of pink, which was followed by a shade of even a deeper pink coming from the ranger and then in unison: “Oh, shut up you two!” When Strider had taken a seat at the table and poured himself a glass of wine with water, he noticed that the table had gone rather quiet, if not to say deadly still. Looking up sheepishly, the human showed a lopsided grin and asked for the second time that day: “What?” The elves smirked on command.

Elladan and Elrohir shared a glance and then both turned towards Legolas. Said elf only hung his shoulders and sighed heavily. Why had it to be him? What had he done to deserve that? A rather evil voice inside his head answered promptly: He had made the twins swear to not tell Estel anything about the Lornalas incident. The twins had agreed, but not without conditions, of course. One of their conditions had been, that it was Legolas duty to tell the human. Sighing in misery, which only caused the twins grins to widen, Legolas lifted his gaze from the table and faced Strider: “Uhm, Estel, I, I mean we, uhm, well we….” “Yes, you have what?” This could not end well. “Estel, we have decided that, as you can do so well with that little aml…. I mean with that child, we thought that it would be the best, if you would take care of it.” There, he had done it. It was out. Said and heard. No need to repeat it.

Legolas watched his friend intently. First he saw no reaction at all. Then, very slowly, the human turned to his by now snickering brothers: “What did you two do to him to make him say that to me?” The two elves only snickered louder. Legolas felt his heart leap into his throat. They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. They would not dare. Ow, Legolas became even pinker. He knew the twins. They would. But perhaps, just maybe…..

“Oh, nothing Estel, really. We just promised him, if he told you that about that child, we would not tell you about his new nickname.” Elladan said. Estel turned a questioning glance at his friend and saw that Legolas resembled a tomato more than a Wood elf at that moment. “What new nickname?” It was as if the twins only had waited for that question. And Legolas know he was doomed. “Lornalas.” They answered in unison.

Elrond himself could later not tell who had laughed harder, the twins or Estel, but one thing he knew for sure. If Legolas had been able to vanish into thin air, he would have done so. When the twins had stopped laughing and wiping away the tears of mirth, the dinner was served. Elrond tried a few minutes unsuccessfully to feed the little human child on his lap, but the child refused to eat. Turning begging eyes to the ranger he silently asked for his help.

Estel, who had not even started eating yet, looked longingly at his plate and the delicious food that was placed on it. A well, later is enough time to eat, he thought. With that he took the child from his father and started to feed the child. Said human child smiled happily and munched on the vegetables that the man smashed on his plate. At least one happy human here, the man thought.

The rest of the meal went by rather normal. Well, as normal as with Legolas and Estel around was possible. Finally, after a long meal and after the family and friends had caught up a bit with each other, Estel declared that he deemed it time to bring the little man to bed, as he had already fallen asleep in his arms. Slowly the ranger stood to his feet and turned to left the hall.

Legolas and the twins followed suit. It had been a long day, but when the little boy was in bed, they still could go on with their conversation. When the elves and humans stepped into the entrance hall and just started up the staircase leading to the bedrooms, a loud knock rushed through the silence, startling them all. Who could knock that late at the door? Normally travellers did not arrive that late at night in Imladris.

Shrugging, Elladan went to open the door, Elrohir close behind him. Upon opening the huge double doors, the elves were greeted by the sight of two weary travellers. They seemed to have travelled all day and were partly covered in dust and mud. Must be a human trait, Elrohir thought.

“Mae govannen, Sirs. What brings you to the Last Homely House at this late an hour?” Elladan asked. The taller of the two men took a step forward and answered: “Mae govannen, Master elf. My friend and I have travelled long and far today. We seek shelter and a few days rest. We hoped you could provide us with both.” Elladan, standing in the doorway, blocking the men’s view into the hall, nodded. “The House of the Lord of Rivendell is always open for tired travellers. But I must ask you to hand over your weapons. You will not need them here.”

The two men looked at each other and then nodded. That would be no problem. Elrohir stepped besides his brother and took the two swords from the men. Then they entered and stepped into the hall. The taller of the two, the man who had spoken, looked around and upon seeing Legolas on the stairs, he seemed do stiffen a bit. But when his gaze turned towards Estel, who still held the child in his arms, his eyes seemed to lighten up and his jaw became more tense.

Legolas moved closer to his human friend. He narrowed his eyes and studied the two new humans. To him they looked, well, untrustworthy. Yes, that was it. He could not place it, could not say why or how, but he definitely did not trust them. And that had nothing to do with his natural dislike of the second born. No, this two meant trouble. He was as sure of that as of the fact that sooner or later every sane person near the twins became insane.

Furthermore, the prince did not like the look of the humans at all. Neither when they had looked at him, nor at Estel. Something wasn’t right there. However, before Legolas became a chance to say anything, the twins had ushered the two travellers on, in the direction of the guest chambers. They seemed to not have noticed Legolas uneasiness. Neither it seemed, had Estel. The ranger just continued on his way to the bedrooms, careful not to waken the little child. Legolas threw one last frowning glance at the retreating men and then sped up to follow the ranger.

When he reached his side he said in the grey tongue: “Estel, have you not noticed it?” “Noticed what, mellon nin?” “Their odd behaviour. They practically stared at you and me.” “Legolas, I have only seen two tired travellers, seeking shelter and rest. You cannot deny them that.” “I don’t. But they make me feel uneasy.” “Perhaps because they are humans, mellon nin?” The prince shook his head: “No. It’s not that. It is something else.” Shrugging Estel just said: “They have handed over their weapons, what could happen?” Legolas did not answer his friend. He, somehow, had the feeling that something could happen, and would.

After the twins had guided the two newcomers to their rooms and made sure that all was fine, they headed to the bedrooms and to their brother and friend. So eager where they to talk with their young brother, that they missed the dark look that passed between the travellers.

The twins finally found Legolas and Estel in the child’s room. To the elves dismay, with an awoken child that screamed at full power every time the ranger tried to leave the room. “Estel, quiet it, please!” “And how shall I do that, Legolas?” “I don’t care. Just keep it quiet.”

With and exasperated sigh the human again proceeded towards the little bed and the boy. As soon as the ranger was within sight of the child it stopped howling and turned big and frightened eyes at the man. Sighing, Estel bend down and took the child in his arms. The boy leaned his head against the rangers broad shoulder, contentedly sucking his thumb. Running his hand in circles over the tired child’s back, the ranger turned towards his friend and his by now arrived brothers, mouthing: “What shall I do?”

The three elves needed to throw only one look at the two humans to see that there was no chance the little boy would stay alone and, even more importantly, quiet. It seemed only the presence of the ranger could comfort the little edan. Displaying a crooked smile, Legolas motioned towards a fluffy armchair in one corner of the room. “Well, mae fuin, Estel.” (Good night, Estel.) And with that, the elves left the ranger and the child alone, ignoring Estels unbelieving look.

Ah, Elladan thought. One night with a decent sleep. Great. Elrohirs thoughts went in the similar direction and even Legolas could not deny that he looked forward to a decent nights sleep. A night without a crying child that kept the whole household awake. But, as Legolas bid the twins goodnight and entered his own sleeping chambers, he had the slightly nagging feeling that perhaps, this night would not be as silent and refreshing as he thought.

When he slipped under the warm covers of his bed, the prince felt sorry for Estel. Had he eaten anything at dinner at all? Would he be able to sleep tonight? Ah, well. That human can handle the little amlug well enough on his own and besides, he has slept through the whole afternoon. With this final thought, Legolas let his eyes glace over, wandering of into the realm of elven sleep.

In the neighbouring room, Estel seated himself into the chair, together with the by now sleeping child and spread a blanket over himself and the boy. That will not be the most comfortable night ever, but it is better than sleeping in the open, the man thought. It did not take the ranger long to find sleep.
~*~
One floor downstairs and a few corridors away, another door opened silently and was closed the same way. Then the door leading to the neighbouring room was opened and closed again. Inside, the two travellers looked at each other. They had made it. They had reached Imladris, entered the city and even found shelter. And not only that.

An evil smile spread over Dagnirs face. The Valar seemed to love him. That was too easy. When he had seen the blond elf he had know that that must have been the one that had ruined his initial plan. The leader of the hunters had instinctively felt that. As soon as his eyes had seen the blond head amongst the sea of dark brown, he had smelled his chance. His smile becoming even more wickedly, Dagnir remembered the sight that had greeted his eyes after he had seen the elf. A human. Not any human, but from the look of it, a ranger of the north.

The hunter had been surprised to seen a human in the house and a bloody ranger for Valars sake. That creatures seemed to be everywhere. He had hunted enough of that kin to know that one must always count on the rangers. They were good fighters and had a great endurance.

Not as good as he, of course, but they could put up a good fight, if threatened. But there had yet one to come who Dagnir could not beat. What had thrilled the hunter, however, had been the sight of the rangers arms, or rather, the being in the arms. There, sleeping comfortably, had been the little child. Their prey. Their treasure. Their money. Dagnir had been hard tempted to not just pull out his sword, kill the elves and the human, and take the child. That would have been easy, but in a city full of elves and a house full of servants, the escape would have been difficult.

And as Dagnir had told his second in command earlier, they could not need any squad of elves wanting their heads. Speaking silently to his subordinate, Dagnir said: “I had not thought it to be so easy. Our prey is served on a silver plate to us. We will do it tonight.”

Bauglir nodded. As he had seen the child he had known that his leader would strike as soon as possible. No need to stay in Rivendell, when they could be on their way and miles away at dawn. And, he thought, the sooner they got that little nuisance, the sooner they would see the promised money.

Dagnirs hair shimmered white in the moonlight that streamed through the window and his eyes had turned a shade of orange mingled with red, as he explained his plan to his man. They would strike during night, when everyone slept. Silent they would be and fast. If everything went as planned, they would take the child and be leagues away before anyone even noticed that they had opened the door to wolves. Very determined and hungry wolves. When Bauglir turned to leave the room, his captain addressed him one more time in a low voice: “Baug, remember what I’ve said. I want no dead elves.” Bauglir nodded and left. It was time to prepare and to wait.
~*~
The night passed silently and a heavy mist had settled around the Last Homely House. In this late spring season, the mist came from the waterfalls that surrounded the house and crept over the valley and land, pathways and roofs, to turn everything a silver white with the smallest water droplets. There was no wind in that cold night and the stars were veiled by dark clouds. The moon only now and then broke through the cover and shed its eerie glow onto the lands of Middle-Earth. The stillness of the midnight hours was sporadically interrupted by the sound of an owl or another nocturnal animal hushing from tree to tree. It was in this ghostly hour that the doors of the guest chambers were opened quietly, two men stepping out, prowling their way through the house. The hunt had started.
~*~
A small rumbling sound could be heard in the otherwise peaceful room. It was followed by silence. And then there was the deep rumbling sound again, louder this time and more persistent.

The sleeping figure in the chair shifted its position, hindered only by another being in its arms and on its chest. When it rumbled again, the sleeping form opened its eyes. Estel first did not notice what had awoken him. The little child was sleeping peacefully in his, by now rather stiff, arms, nestled securely into a warm blanket. No, that had not awoken him. Wondering why he was awake then, Estel searched the room with his eyes. Nope, nothing out of the ordinary. Then, his stomach rumbled again.

The ranger looked down, frowned, and then remembered that he had not eaten anything at dinner. His time, and hands, had been consumed by Taran, who had been fed by Estel and then the boy had needed all necessary attention of the ranger. Otherwise the vivid child would have either fallen on the stone floor or turned the table with the food into a battlefield. Estel had planned to eat something after he had tucked the child into bed, but he had simply forgotten. His stomach, it seemed, had not.

Taking on look at the child and then at the door, the human contemplated rising and getting something to eat from the kitchens. He was hungry. Not just a bit, but truly starved by now. He had skipped the meals the last days more or less. Not because he had not been equipped with enough food, bur rather because he wanted to reach his home as fast as possible. And he had had enough of dry bread and berries. Not to mention lembas.

Risking one glance eat the young boy again, Estel made his decision. Slowly, so as not to wake the boy, he lifted himself out of the chair and with him Taran. As carefully as he could, the ranger tried to place the human in the prepared children’s bed. Well, he only tried.

When Estel had laid the boy down and taken his hands away, the little edan began to instantly turn in his blankets, his brow furrowed. The little hands were balled into fist and it seemed as if he would wake any second.

With reflexes fast for someone who had just woken from a deep slumber, the ranger bent down and took the still sleeping form into his arms. Taran nestled himself into the strong and protective arms and slept on. His hands unclenched and his face relaxed in peaceful sleep. Sighing inwardly, Estel accepted that the boy would not stay asleep, and quiet, he thought sarcastically, without him. Hm, well, Estel thought, at least my family and Legolas can sleep properly tonight.

He had seen from his brothers and fathers face, and even on the princes fair features, that they lacked sleep. Elves could go longer without sleep than humans could, but no sleep at all could make every elf’s features drawn. Sighing outwardly this time, the ranger changed his hold on the sleeping bundle and turned in the direction of the door. If he was the only one who could make the little one comfortable, then so be it.

Estel knew from own experience how good it was to feel secure and loved. He would stay awake night after night if it brought the boy peace. And his family and friends, he thought. It was a little price to pay for overall satisfaction. But inwardly, he hoped that it would not come to that. He longed for his own warm and cosy bed. Ranger or no. So, not suspecting anything wrong, the two humans stepped out of their room and made their way to the kitchens.
~*~
Dagnir and his second in command sneaked through the house on silent feet, as stealthy as any elf. They were good in their business. And they knew it. The hunters went along carefully and slowly, so as not to be seen or heard, least of all surprised by a servant. They did not know in which room the child was kept, but they would find it nevertheless.

When those two identical looking elves had left them, they had followed their way to the stairs with the eyes, unnoticed by the dark haired beings. So the two hunters assumed their prey to be upstairs. And how many rooms could their be? They would check every one, if necessary.

When they had reached the top of the stairs, they crept along the walls, searching for a clue as to where the child could be. The first door they came upon was closed, a storage room perhaps. The second one was unlocked and Bauglir opened the door silently. Inside, he could just make out a sleeping figure on the large bed. Wrong door. He closed the door again and held his breath and listened. Besides his own beating heart, no sound could be heard.

Dagnir went to the next door and pressed his ear against the wooden surface. No sound. He pushed the door open. A sleeping elf, laying on his side, back to the door, greeted him, so he closed the door with a silent sound. Waiting, no, nothing. No sound.

When the two hunters wanted to proceed to the next door, they both went unmoving and then, as if on a silent command, pressed themselves into the shadow of the wall, near a huge stature of an elf maiden. Someone in the room two doors down must be awake. They could hear soft footsteps.

Then, a door was opened and a tall figure stepped out, one arm around its chest. With the other the person closed the door again and then, without even turning in the direction of the two intruders, the form disappeared into the opposite direction. The rumbling stomach could be heard even from the distance. An evil smile played across Dagnirs face. Oh, this was just to good to be true.
~*~
Legolas could not tell what had woken him. He did not awake with a start. He did not bolt upright. He just, well, awoke. Not because of a sound or outer feeling. No. It was rather an inner feeling. As if, well, he could find no words for how he felt, but he felt as if he had missed something. Something deer to him. Something important. Something which he would miss sorely when it would disappear.

Frowning, the prince turned onto is side and faced the window. Outside the full moon was partially hidden by dark clouds, the stars were not shining their eternal light unto the misty lands. Sighing inwardly, the elf tried to go back to sleep. After a few moments Legolas still felt awkward. He could not explain it. To ease his heart, he sat up and listened intensely. Perhaps the little human had awoken him because he had screamed? No sound was carried towards the archers ears and after some more minutes of passing silence, the elf went back to his side and again tried to find the lands of the elven dreams.
~*~
Returning from the kitchens with a now rather stuffed stomach, Estel turned into the corridor the bedchambers lay in. He had found rests of the evening meal in the kitchens and had eaten enough to last until the next evening, if he was honest with himself. But, oh, the sweet and crunchy bread and the fresh fruits, the refreshing spring water. It had been so good. The most delicious meal he had had since weeks. And therefore, he had dug in.

Taran had not once woken, to the delight of the ranger. He had no appreciation of a wailing child this late at night. After his midnight snack, all he wanted to do was sit down again, snuggle up in the blanket and sleep peacefully until the morning came. Or longer, he would not mind that either.

Stifling a wide yawn, the man made his way slowly to his room, his feet more shuffling over the tiles than walking. He was so tired. Estel reached his door, took the doorknob, pushed the wooden door open and stepped inside, pushing the door closed in one tired motion, with his back to the room. When he turned around, he found himself face to face with a dagger at his throat. A sharp dagger that glistered in the sparse moonlight. When Estel lifted his gaze along the blade upwards, his silver eyes were met by almost glowing red ones. The ranger swallowed.
~*~
Legolas just could not sleep. It made him crazy. Why, by the Valar, was he unable to find sleep? He had tossed and turned in his bed for minutes, but for him it seemed as if hours had passed since he had woken. The prince tossed himself at his back, arms at his sides and starred at the ceiling, counting, again, the wooden beams there. He knew them by heart by now. Closing his eyes, the elf sighed audibly, and then, gave up. It made no sense. Whatever it was that kept him awake, either he found it or he would have to stay awake until morning. Legolas stood up and paced in his room for awhile. No, the feeling of uneasiness did not disappear. Argh! He was a Wood elf, a warrior, he was supposed to find sleep in every situation. Not walking around like a lunatic. Or Strider. Mumbling some curses under his breath, the elf went to his window and let his gaze wander over the misty landscape. Perhaps he could find peace this way.
~*~
“If you move, your dead.” Swallowing again, Estel tried to stop his racing mind. What was going on here? Who was that? How did I get myself into this one again? And how do I get myself out of this one?

With the blade still pressing at his throat, the ranger could not move his head the way he wished to do it, but was rather forced to slowly work his way upwards and then around to be able to see his opponent.

The man was tall, as tall as Estel himself and had broad shoulders and, from what the ranger could tell, strong and muscular arms. One glance was enough to tell the ranger that this man knew how to fight. And one look at his eyes told Estel that this man was willing to fight, if need be.

When the intruder moved a bit to the side and some rays of silver moonlight shone onto the mans face, Estel realized with a start that this was one of the tired travellers his brothers had welcomed in only hours ago. This man was the one who had spoken, the one, Legolas had warned him about. And he hadn’t listened.


With a voice like sharp glass but as low as a whisper, the red eyed man demanded: “Move away from the door. Slowly. And no tricks. Keep your hands where I can seen them.” Estel did what he was told. What else could he do? He had no weapons near him. He was at home, by Elbereth! In his own home! He should need no weapons here. The only weapon he carried was a small hunting knife he always carried. But, alas, in his right boot. No way he could reach it. Not in this situation. And not with a child in his arms.

The tall man lowered the knife a little bit, just enough for the ranger to breath easier. Then, as low as before: “Now, lay the child down onto the bed and then move away from it.” When Estel did not react, but only stared at the man, the eyes of the intruder turned a fiery red. Demon red. “I will not say it again, ranger.” The man spat the last word as if they were poison.

Estel still did not move. He wondered what the man wanted. If he have had the intention to kill him he could have done so earlier. He had stood with his back to him, facing the door. Enough opportunity to murder him. No, it must have been something else. His mind racing, the ranger tried to figure out what it was. He remembered Legolas words from the evening. This man had stared first at Legolas and then at him…. What if the man had not stared at him, but, yes, at the boy? Suddenly, the ranger felt his stomach turn. He wanted the child. He was here because of Taran! Without even realising that he did it, Estel shook his head. Oh no, he was not willing to give the boy away that easily.

His opposites eyes narrowed to slits at the rangers display of resistance. He moved closer and raised his dagger again. “We can do this the easy or the hard way, ranger. As you like it.” Pressing the child more fiercely at his chest with both his arms and turning to the side so that the intruder did not face the sleeping child directly, Estel starred at the man and said: “Then I think, I will chose the hard way.”

Estel knew he played a risky game. He could scream and alarm his family and Legolas and perhaps whole Imladris, but by the time someone would get here, he would probably be dead and Taran too. Or worse. He could only hope that someone would hear him sooner than that.

The other man seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as he moved even closer than before, the dagger still at the humans throat. “Now, ranger. Do as I say. Or you will regret it.” “I will regret it if I do what you say.” Estel answered, trying to hold his rising fear out of his voice. This could end pretty bad.

Estel stepped one step away from the man, eliciting a stare from the intruder. On that, the man had not counted. Estel more felt than knew that the other man would not harm him as long as he had the child in his arms. If the man wanted the child, and it seemed to be so, than he would not risk to injure the little being by attacking him.

Backing to the door slowly, so as not to startle the man and make him do something very stupid, and deadly for the ranger, Estel moved back, step by step. He saw how the eyes of the man narrowed even further, now nearly closed. But, the dagger was not longer at the rangers throat and Estel was halfway through the room. The other man followed him silently, dagger in hand, but he said nothing more.

When Estel had nearly reached the door leading to the corridor, he wondered why the man let him walk away that easily. He got his answer as he not heard, but felt the door in his back being opened and the next moment a heavy blow landed on the back of his head. Estel felt himself crumble to the floor, the child still in his arms, unable to stop himself from crushing the boy between his own body and the tiles.

Before he landed in a heap on the floor, he felt strong arms take the child out of his own limp hands. His vision had started to blur and the darkness was creeping in from the edges. He was not sure if he would win the fight with the shadows.
~*~
In his room, Legolas was still staring out of the window, when he meant to hear voices coming from his friends room. Tilting his head to the side, the elf listened carefully and after a few moments he was convinced to hear voices. Muffled by the walls, but still there. He could not discern the words spoken, but was sure to hear more than one voice. Frowning, Legolas turned towards the door. With whom should Estel speak? With the child? Yes, maybe, but that little human could not answer, right?

With every step the elf took, his feeling of uneasiness grew and when he had finally reached the bedroom door, he was certain that something was not right. Grabbing on of his long elven daggers, the archer moved to the door, then paused to listen. There, voices again, a little louder this time. The doorknob in hand, Legolas started to turn it, when he suddenly heard the sound of something heavy colliding with the floor. Eyes widening, the blond archer let go of some of his carefulness, opened the door and rushed out. If something had befallen Estel, while he had been awake, just a door away, doing nothing….

Legolas sprinted to his friends door, listening. He could hear no sound. No, that was not true. Now, yes, there, he could hear someone sniffing, and then a low howl. The boy! Why should the child cry when Estel was around? The next sound the elf heard made his heart clench in fear. He could hear someone groan. Estel! Throwing all caution into the wind, the elf rushed into the room.
~*~
Bauglir had only waited for something like this. Yes, it had been his task to stay in the corridor to keep an eye on the other doors, but when his captain had taken so long, he had become impatient and entered the room. And right on time it seemed. It had been such a good feeling to knock the ranger out. This feeling of power that surged through ones body when being in a fight, it was all he needed to survive.

After his captain had taken the child from the ranger, the little boy had woken and, it seemed upon seeing the ranger rather motionless on the floor, started to cry silently. What concerned the ranger, he was not yet unconscious, but half way there. And Bauglir would take care of the rest of the way. After all, his captain had not wanted any dead elves. No one had said anything about dead rangers.

When he moved closer to the crumbled form on the floor, his excellent hearing made out footsteps in the corridor. He moved into the shadows of the door as silently and fast as a cat at night and waited, a sharp knife raised. He did not have to wait long.
~*~
Legolas rushed into the room, one of his twin daggers in his hand. But he was not prepared for the sight that met his eyes. Estel lay on the ground, fighting to stay conscious, it seemed. Above him, a white haired man stood, a dagger in the one and the little crying boy in the other hand.

When the elf remembered with a start that the travellers had been two, it was already to late. Legolas felt a gush of cold air coming from behind him and then the biting feeling of a sharp blade entering his body. A scream would not come to his lips, there was no air to scream. By Elebereth, he could not even breath!

Legolas felt his grip on his dagger loosen and he heard the sound of his weapon falling to the floor. When he looked down on himself, he saw that the right half of his tunic had turned red. And the crimson stain grew and grew. As if separated from himself, Legolas saw how his own blood flowed down his side and dripped to the floor.

When the knife was been cruelly pulled out again, Legolas gasped in sheer pain and sank to his knees, unable to support his own weight any longer. Black spots danced in his vision. He felt the pain like hot fire lancing through his side. He wanted to scream, to yell, but all he could do was gasp for air. There seemed not to be enough of that precious life giving substance.

While Legolas desperately fought to remain conscious, he could hear voices as if from far away, but he was not able to understand what they were saying. When he felt his body collide with the tiles, he wondered how that could have happened. He had meant to save Estel, not being the one who needed to be rescued. Estel! The thought made Legolas raise his head again. He desperately tried to clear his vision.

After some moments of fighting, he managed to bring the world into focus again, if only for a short moment. What he saw made his heart turn cold. Estel was on his knees by now, face turned towards him, lips moving. But Legolas could not hear his friends words. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. His eyes were fixed on the man behind his friend. The man who in this moment raised his bloody knife, ready to strike the ranger down. Ready to kill his friend. Legolas wanted to warn his friend, to scream….but he could not. The last thing he saw before the darkness welcomed him, was the knife, drenched in his own blood, shimmering deadly red in the moonlight, that would probably end two lives in that starless night.

End of chapter 2