Chapter 4
Nights Of Encounters
by Vagabond
(Aragoan POV)

 

Nearly all my hope was gone when I reached Rohan. Nowhere was a sign of my lover. Sure, you could find enough people which allegedly wanted to have seen a blonde Elf who looked like Legolas, and the more money I spend the more they were sure about that. At last, I had little money left for further researches.-

Rohan - still one could see its suffering. Many houses were ruins, never built up again after the invasion of Gondor’s army; or they were occupied by Orcs who had slaughtered the former owners.
Proud and pompous stand the buildings with the flattering banners of Gondor against the poverty of dilapidated houses and huts, forming a strange and provoking contrast. But that’s how life was. Wealth and opulence is always the prize of the victors, leaving the defeated even more pale and weak. The people of Rohan had lost hope a long time ago.

But there were rumours. Cautious whisper about a rebellion, a community of Humans, Elves and Dwarves that still resisted the aggressors of Gondor. It was said that they were hiding in the mountains, keeping the Gondorians and their Orc friends busy with their little tactical attacks. They also helped escaped slaves to hide or to find their families again.

These rebels had no real chance against the occupants and they knew it, but they gave their people strength and something to hold on to. And from time to time, they really landed a hurting blow into the side of the beast that is Gondor. Little successes that they achieved, yes, but successes none the less. Better than hiding in the shadows and forgetting about your own identity, I thought bitterly.

Their leader was known as Eowyn; a young woman, almost still a girl, but proud and strong. In better days, she would have been called a true shield maiden. There were many stories about her, making her more a mystical being than a real leader. ‘Eowyn of Rohan’ - ‘the shinning one’. Her past lay in darkness; nobody seemed to know from where she came or who she had been before she became the Lady Eowyn. Her life was the fight. It was said, that she could measure up to nearly every man in combat, and there was the amusing story going around that she would only bed those who had over-powered her in a fight before. I chuckled. Well, if her sword-arm really was that good as it was said, she had to be a very lonesome person! I couldn’t say if it would be luck or the opposite should I really find her, but all my instincts told me that Eowyn was the only person who could help me now.

~

It wasn’t easy to find the rebels, it was rather dangerous. One false question and a person would find himself in prison faster than he could say ‘Orc’. But the few coins I had left worked miracles again.-

I wasn’t happy to have to trust the two huge, rugged looking men, who at last agreed to lead me to Eowyn. But there was not much choice left, and with a sigh, I accepted the blindfold they put on me, knowing that this could be more dangerous to them than to me if I was a spy.
Soon I found myself on a horse, and after some hours my bottom was very aware of the fact that I was dragged through about the whole of Middle-Earth before we reached what -with good will- one could call a headquarters.

My companions removed the blindfold, and blinking against the brightness, I noticed that we were deep in the mountains. The land was barren and wasted here. A biting wind was noisily blowing and managed the impossible thing of getting my hair in an even more dishevelled state than it already was.
Behind me, I could hear my companions whisper with someone who had a very sonorous and arrogant sounding voice. I turned and my gaze fell upon an Elf with fair, almost silver coloured hair. But before I could get a closer look at him, he commanded the men to bring me into the headquarters.

It was a huge cavern under a high, proud looking mountain build from riven stones. Corridors forced their ways deep into the rock, connecting small rooms that gave the rebels who lived there with their families some privacy.

I was dragged into a small, stuffy room and thrown onto a hard chair. My saddle sore bottom showed its displeasure by protesting with a dull throbbing pain.
The Elf whom I had seen outside took a chair in front of me, a repulsive sneer on his lips. He had the ageless look of all Elves and his face held beauty, yes, but it was poisoned by his hateful glare and despicable grin (that seemed to be a part of him). "Well, well", he stated, "so you want to meet the Lady Eowyn, hm?" He gave a short glance at the men beside me, who tensed up a little, ready to react if I meant any danger.

I just nodded at the Elf’s question. I was always careful of people like him. They tended to be incalculable.
"And what do you want from her?" he asked, still sneering at me. I tried to look as casual as I could. "This is a matter only between the Lady Eowyn and me." I said coldly. His brows drew up in an annoyed manner. He laughed, but he was not amused. "I see… - but perhaps you are just one of the Gondorian bastards trying to spy on us and to kill the Lady?" His voice was only a menacingly whisper now.
"I think the Lady Eowyn is able to defend herself, and she has to fear no harm from me. And your ‘rebel-business’ isn’t of any interest to me, for I have my own.", I answered with a little more force in my voice than I had intended. For a moment, I thought he would beat me, and I was ready to jump him in return, but the opening of the door prevented that.

I had no doubt that the figure that entered the room was Eowyn. She carried herself with such pride! One could see that she was used to command. "Haldir!" she snapped at the Elf. "What is going on here?"
Defiantly, the Elf looked at her, the arrogant lines on his face deepening. He nodded his head at me. "The Human says that he wants to speak to you in a ‘very important’ matter. If you ask me, I’m sure he is a spy and we should kill him." He glanced hatefully at me.
"I think you should leave this decision up to me.", the Lady answered him sternly. "And now leave us alone, Haldir. Speak with Gimli, he has news from our comrades in Minas Tirith." Both seemed to measure the other with looks, obviously a fight for dominance. But Eowyn’s gaze was inexorable, and after a few seconds Haldir bowed his head lightly and left the room, but not without another baleful glance in my direction.

To the guards’ distinct disapproval, the Lady dismissed them, too. They grumbled but obeyed, leaving us alone.
Now Eowyn’s attention rested on me, and she was obviously considering if I were a danger to her. Time passed and neither of us spoke a word, we just stared at each other. She really was a beautiful woman, having a wonderful feminine body, long golden shimmering hair, rosy lips that seemed frozen in a pout and very beautiful… eyes. Valar, it was too damn long since I had lain with anyone. I could already feel the familiar tension in my body, and heat began to flush my cheeks. I held my breath when I felt my breeches becoming painfully tight, and I fought desperately against my arousal. Oh man, this was definitely not the right moment… And of course, her gaze didn’t miss my growing interest in her. Wonderful. Yes, she would chop off my head, of that I was certain now. But after long moments of silence, she finally smiled, showing a line of perfect white teeth, and I could do nothing but to smile stupidly in return. Eowyn’s smile deepened. "I assume that ‘this’ isn’t really the business you want to discuss with me, is it?" Relieved that she took it with humour, I chuckled and shook my head. "No, it isn’t. But I must admit that you are a very interesting woman, Eowyn. Someone as young as you and already a respected leader… one doesn’t see this often." She laughed in a very sweet way. "You are good with words, stranger. - But enough politeness. Tell me, who are you and what do you want?" Eowyn’s eyes were vigilant now, and her voice held a stern undertone.
I cleared my thoughts. "I’m known as Strider" I said, and I told her what had brought me to Rohan.

She didn’t interrupt me until I had finished. There was something in her eyes when I mentioned the slave-hunters. Anger, as I had expected, but there was something in addition, a great sadness…
Eowyn sighed. "I will see what I can do for you, Strider. Normally, there is no way back for a slave who is sold. But in the last years, we could have helped a few of them to escape, prevented them from dying painfully at the hands of merciless masters…" Her thoughts seemed to trail off.
"Eowyn?" I asked gentle. The Lady sighed again, looking more like a young, vulnerable girl now.
"Stay this night", she offered after a few seconds. "One of my fellows, Gimli, has news from Minas Tirith. We have comrades there. They tell us what is going on in the White City and perhaps they know something about your Elfprince. Most of the Elvenslaves are brought to Minas Tirith." And she added sarcastically, "The noble ones love beautiful things."
I nodded, trying to suppress the shiver that went down my spine, when I imagined what such a ‘noble one’ would do to my Legolas.
She nodded encouragingly at me. "If anything is known about your lover, then there is still a chance left that you can save him." She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful and then added "We will help you, if you want it. But… of course… we want something in return."
I searched her eyes with mine, and barely noticeably she shivered. I nodded slowly. Considering what that meant for me but knowing that there was not much choice left, I agreed. "I accept." Eowyn smiled. "Good. I will tell you tomorrow about your task. For now… I assume that you must be very hungry? Come, let me take care of that." Her eyes sparkled like polished mirrors, pushing all my dark thoughts away and caused me to grin in return. "Indeed", I laughed, "I have great hunger." And I followed her to a more private place.

~

And my hunger was appeased this night. In many ways and more than once… -

Satisfied, I lay on the bed beneath her, ‘the Lady Eowyn of Rohan’, for that is how she was called by her followers. She was a remarkable woman, and although she seemed so different from myself, I could feel a familiarity between us. We both could loose ourselves in things we cared about. Eowyn had given all her strength to the task of freeing her people and I… well, I would even give my life to free the Elf I love.

My thumbs traced the lines of her face, sliding slowly down her neck to the round tight domes of shimmering flesh. Lips sent little kisses on each of them and my hands studied gently the feminine curves of her body again. I like how women feel, so different from the bodies of men. Woman are gentle and soft where men are muscled and rough. I love both, but during my journeys, I had shared my bed mostly with men, needing the strength and unconditionality my own sex loves with. Of course, it was never love; just a few hours spent in lust (as it was now with Eowyn as we both knew).
I can’t exactly explain what it is that makes me completely lose my sense and self-control when I am with men. Perhaps it’s for the wild passion and roughness that love between men can hold. There is this fighting for dominance that is so arousing. Strange, but now I realise that with Legolas, it was never this way. It was more tender, more caring. I always was a bit afraid of hurting him. Elves are so fragile… Of course we had our ‘wild hours’, and my little romp could be really unbridled sometimes, but still… I could not say that I missed something in our lovemaking, but -how should I say?- sometimes I wouldn’t have minded if he had been a little more ‘enforcing’ in a playful manner… Perhaps it has something to do with my supposed destiny to be king one day. - It’s so exhausting when everyone expects you to be the strong one, the claiming hero who always takes what he wants. Not that I wholly refuse to take this job, but sometimes it would be nice to have ‘a strong shoulder to lean on’, someone who would take a bit of the burden...

I heard Eowyn sigh and my thoughts were fully drawn back to her. She was so beautiful, not in the way Legolas or Arwen were, but in this odd human way that resulted from little imperfections. I was a bit uneasy because I was lying there in bed with her, forgetting about Legolas and my quest although it was only for a moment, only for a night. But who could resist the seduction of such a woman?
Her lips commanded my attention and her tongue took mine prisoner in that sweet mouth of hers. I took my time to explore, to feel for the warm wetness there, a low moan vibrating in my throat. She took my member in a firm grip and began to stroke me until I was gasping and writhing in pleasure.
"Do you welcome every stranger in this lovely way?" I murmured against her neck and bit passionately into the warm flesh there. Carefully I started to massage the hidden sensitive spot between her thighs in return, circling with slick fingers the center of her desire.
Her fingers trailed upwards to my biceps, testing the muscles there and then further to caress my face. "No", she moaned as an answer to my question, the teasing in her voice covered by lust, "just the pretty ones."
I laughed hoarsely and gave her a fiery kiss on her lips, all unpleasant thoughts gone for a moment.-

She was a wild one when she reached her peak. Clawing at my back she screamed unrestrained and allowed her whole body to drown in pleasure. It was nice to see her like that, and I was also sure it was a privilege, since outside her rooms she was so controlled, so stern – inaccessible.
"Thank you for letting me see you like this." I whispered in her ear. She looked at me through half-lidded eyes, sated and tired. One of her fingers tangled playfully in a lock of my dark hair. Darkness against fair skin… I sighed. It wasn’t right that I was here with her when my beloved had to suffer, but I needed it so badly. All my strength had left me and I was already willing to give up. By offering her help, Eowyn had given me new hope, and by sharing her bed with me I felt soothed somehow. It was so easy for women to have this wonderful effect on men. It is their natural gift I think.

"Will you tell me your real name?" she asked, curiosity clearly written in her eyes.
I consider it for a moment. Names are a powerful thing, one shouldn’t reveal them carelessly. But after what we had shared it seemed odd to act like strangers any longer and so I murmured my name between her swollen lips, gently sucking on them. "Aragorn… my name ‘s Aragorn."
"A noble name" she answered, and then her tongue searched for mine and invited me into her mouth again.

The Lady of Rohan drews my body tight to hers and planted little kisses and bites over the vulnerable skin of my neck. She jerked my head back with a fast movement of her hand, and holding me captured like this, she gave my exposed throat a sweet torture with those rosy lips of hers.
I couldn’t stop moaning and purring like a cat. This was one of the most sensitive spots on my body, more than responsive to her clever attack on it. Yes, she knew how to over-power. I had to chuckle, remembering the stories about her. She looked up, a surprised expression on her face. "I didn’t mean this to be funny."
I grinned at her in response. "I just remembered that you would not sleep with men who submit to you." I explained teasingly. Then she laughed whole-heartedly with me. "Ah, these awful stories about me. One can not do anything against it. I have become a myth, Aragorn… it’s hard to stay a woman by this."
I nodded understandingly. "There is no doubt that you are a woman, my Lady. And also a very strong as well as beautiful one" I assured her and sealed it with a kiss.

Lazily, my hand stroked over her stomach and my thumb found a rough scar on her left hip - one scar of many that covered her body, and again I asked myself how many fights she might have seen and how many scars lie hidden in her soul?
"How can you stand this all?" I whispered, kissing the palm of her hand before laying it against my cheek. She laughed, almost hoarse. "Because I must.", was her bitter answer. "My people need me, Aragorn. Someone has to lead them, give them a bit of hope, or all will be lost." She continued sarcastically "I’m not so naïve and stupid to believe that at one beautiful day Isildur’s heir will ride into the land and overthrow Denethor."
I winced slightly, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were burning with a grim fire. How easily she could become angry! Dangerous, - I should keep it in mind… I barely heard what she was saying, my gaze fixed on the lines of her face that were twisting with the building rage.
"My people suffer, and I cannot wait for a legend to appear. No matter what it cost me, I will do anything to help Rohan! My anger makes me strong and I will not rest until Denethor and his damned sons bathe in their own blood." Her chest was heaving now and I could see despair weaken her anger. "I will not allow them to take our future as they have occupied our past. This has to come to an end. We owe it our children - they shall not have to suffer like we did…" Her hands were fists now and the lines of her face were hard and reserved, lips pressed together. She gave an exhausted sigh. "I hate them Aragorn - these damn Gondorian bastards - I hate them all!"
Not knowing what to do, I drew her into my embrace and held her tight, soothingly caressing and stroking. Slowly she calmed down, and as if she had lost an inner battle, her head sank heavily to my shoulder. Silently we held each other until sleep claimed us.

~

The next morning I awoke to loud voices from outside. The bed beside me was empty. I remembered that Eowyn had gotten up very early, but told me that there were no need for me to get up, too, so I had gone back to sleep.
Now I stretched my limbs, still slightly aching from the ride to the rebel camp yesterday.

There was a bowl with water on a small wooden table, and I tried to clean up a little. The cold wetness was very refreshing, but as for my cleanliness there seemed to be no real difference, as I had to admit. I shrugged my shoulders. That’s what life in the wilderness is like. And Eowyn and her men were no court, so it did not matter.

I got dressed and ate the small breakfast that someone brought to me, ordered by Eowyn. And while I waited for her return, I strolled through the little room, looking for signs of individuality in it. But there was little that personified Eowyn. Just her clothes (and most of them were very ‘man-like’, because they had to be useful and protective) and some books. That surprised me. So Eowyn could read! Most of the enslaved Humans could not read nor write. The Gondorians thought it not necessary, and of course it was safer for them, when the oppressed weren’t able to communicate in such a dangerous way.
I looked at the titles and was surprised once more. Two of them were about history and warfare, but the third one was elvan poetry. How did she learn the old speech? Tenderly I caressed the binding, and reverently I looked at the poems. I sighed… it was so long ago that I had the pleasure to read beautiful words like those. There was no way to translate them wholly into the common speech, the speech of Humans, clumsy and rough. Human words are nothing beside the melody that elfish words hold. Reading an elvan poem was like experiencing the things described yourself. Carefully I lifted one of the filmy pages, and my gaze drifted to the poem that was written in fine lines on the sheet - it was Legolas’ favorite. I couldn’t count the times I had listened to him when he recited in his clear, soft voice this wonderful verses, so emotional and deep. I could almost hear him speaking the lines when I went reading through them, bringing the memory of him alive in my head…

~

We had stolen away from Thranduil’s house to spent the day in the wood. Secretly and undisturbed, only my lover and me. Holding each other, we watched the sky above us as it shone through the trees, trying to see known forms in the passing clouds. But while Legolas saw horses, birds and famous Elven-warriors, I saw only twisted faces. Again, I realized that I was not like him. Again I feared that this would separate us one day. Sadly, I let my hand trail over his body, and my heart hurt at the thought of ever losing him. But at the same time, I knew that I myself would leave him very soon. I had already decided it. I needed to see my kind again. Too long I had been hiding here in Mirkwood. My blood boiled because it became restless again. I would go out into the world of Men, and I would leave my lover behind. I hadn’t told him yet, but I was sure he already knew. We both had known that we couldn’t stay like that forever. It was a beautiful dream, and it had come to an end like every dream had to. My voice seemed trapped in my throat, sounding rasp and hollow. "Legolas" I began, but he stopped me with light kisses. He sensed my mood as he always did. Draping me over his lithe body, my head settled on his chest so that I could hear the rhythm of his beating heart, he began lowly to sing the poem that he loved so much. One could not translate it truly into human words, but its meaning was clear in every speech:

One look at love
and you may see
it weaves a web
over mystery,
all ravelled threads
can rend apart
for hope has a place in the lover's heart.
Hope has a place in a lover's heart

Whispering world,
A sigh of sighs,
The ebb and the flow
of the ocean tides,
One breath, one word
may end or may start
a hope in a place of the lover's heart,
Hope has a place in a lover's heart.

Look to love
you may dream,
and if it should leave
then give it wings.
But if such a love
is meant to be;
Hope is home, and the heart is free.

Under the heavens
we journey far,
on roads of life
we're the wanderers,
So let love rise,
so let love depart,
let hope have a place in the lover's heart
Hope has a place in the lover's heart.

Look to love
and you may dream,
and if it should leave
then give it wings.
But if such a love
is meant to be;
Hope is home, and the heart is free. (*)

So often had I heard it, had I enjoyed it, but now it made my heart ache. <If it should leave then give it wings…> "So you would let me go if I wanted to?" I asked him, looking incredulous at him. He just smiled that sad Legolas-smile of his and kissed me again. "I will." He nuzzled his face into my hair. "I love you, Aragorn. And because I do, I have to let you go. You need to see your own world, your own kind. You are longing to wander Middle-Earth again. You want to reveal secrets and to find new. I know that. I know *you*. That’s why I have to let you go." His hand in mine. I sealed my whispered promise to his lips. "I will come back to you, beloved."
"You will." There is no uncertainty in his voice. "And I will wait for you to return."

We loved each other then, both knowing I would leave the next day. He lay in my arms afterwards, our lips still burning from passionate kisses, body and soul sated for the moment.
"Aragorn?", he asked with a seriousness that alarmed me. "Would you do the same for me? Would you let me go if I wanted to?" Dark brown eyes pierced mine. I just lowered my gaze, fleeing his intense look, and it was answer enough…

~

I would never let him go. I knew I was selfish, but I needed him so badly. Someone who loved me. My Legolas, my beloved.

Still lost in my own thoughts, I had laid the book back on its place on the stone ledge, when Eowyn opened the door.
"Aragorn? Come, I will introduce you to someone." she said, still friendly but a little more formal, and I knew that what we had last night was past. Now she was ‘the Lady of Rohan’ again. For me as for any other in this place. I accepted it without regret. It made things easier.

"I have spoken with my men.", Eowyn told me while we went through the corridors. "They agreed that you undertake a difficult task for us." <What a honor…> "Of course, some of them are ‘uncertain’ about this, because they have just my word that you can be trust." <Some? Surely the Elf…> I cleared my throat. "What will I have to do?" Eowyn glanced at me. "Gimli will tell you." <Fine…>

When we went through the cavern to meet Gimli, I had the opportunity to take a closer look at the surroundings. It was more than miserable. The rebels lived with their families in small rooms, often more then six persons in one room. It was cold although it was still late summer, but in the mountains the biting wind blows all the year, and the sun does not get through the solid stone. I was very sure that the coming winter would cost many lives here.

Everyone looked already exhausted and more or less ill. On provisional sickbeds laid some men who looked more dead then alive. Some of them I assumed to be escaped slaves, the angry welts on their backs gave a distinct hint of that. A healer went from bed to bed checking for the injuries, changing bandages and now and then murmuring some words of comfort to pale looking faces.
A little dark-haired boy was chewing on an apple while a woman anointed bloody marks of scraped scab that covered the little one’s body. Had to be scabies or something similar. No wonder, with all the dirt here.

Other children of nearly all age groups were playing in the corridors. A small skinny girl (perhaps six or seven years old) sat in a corner and made a doll from dirty rags which she filled with straw.
Some boys and girls, which I estimated to be the age of maybe 12 years, played ‘slay the Gondorians’. One girl with long blonde hair was obviously meant to be Eowyn (which caused the real Lady to smile amused), and she commanded the others what to do with their ‘captives’ (of course the child-rebels had defeated the ‘Gondorians’ very easily). "Death to the oppressors.", the child-Eowyn proclaimed. "Death to Denethor and his sons." And with this, three poor guys were theatrically ‘beheaded’ with a wooden stick.

"Do you see?" Eowyn asked me gently, "This is all what they know – war, loss, pain… They deserve so much better!" I nodded silently, unable to speak.

To our left, there was a dark corridor that seemed to go deep into the mountain. "Where does this corridor lead?" I asked curious, and Eowyn hesitated a little. "Uhm… in this direction lie the cells. Sometimes we have ‘special guests’, and we keep them away from our rooms for I don’t need the children to learn too much about ‘certain procedures’. – Oh, don’t look at me like that, Aragorn. *We* are not the cruel ones. Do you think I like to do this? No Aragorn, but as I said you before – I will do whatever needs to be done. Look, to have the tiniest bit of a chance against our enemies, we need information! - And they will not give it willingly."
I kept my eyes lowered and walked the rest of the way silently beside her. Of course she was right, it was just – this all was so wrong! ‘The end justifies the means’… I did not believe in it.

~

The first person I saw when we entered a sort of meeting room, was this Haldir guy. It seemed that his hatred for me had not dimmed over the night. His eyes sparkled aggressively and his lips curled up in the sneer that I already knew from the day before.
To his left and a good bit further below, stood a dwarf, who was obviously trying to get his attention. His mighty beard waved with every movement he made. He bowed his head friendly in greeting when Eowyn and I approached him.

"This is Aragorn." Eowyn introduced me to the dwarf. "He will help you with our contact in Minas Tirith." Now she turned to me. "Aragorn, this is Gimli. He will accompany you to Minas Tirith.", and she nodded in the direction of the dwarf. "But let me tell you something about our situation first. – You know that we are in close contact to the rebels of the White City. They are most endangered, because they operate directly under the watchful eyes of Denethor. - Or Faramir, to be exact. He is the one who relentlessly hunts us, and his wit is our greatest enemy." A deep roll came from Gimli’s throat. He snarled. Haldir just drew his left eyebrow upwards at that and looked down at the dwarf, who grumbled something into his beard. Eowyn paused and then continued. "’The Fox’ believes now that Faramir knows about some of our contacts. The prince will probably start an ‘all-out cleaning’."

‘The Fox’. Of course I had heard that name before. All that was known about the mysterious figure was, that it had to be a man, and that he was the shrewd leader of Minas Tirith’s rebels. It had been extremely difficult to find Eowyn, but as people told, it was nearly impossible to get to him. There was a lot of money offered for his capture…

Eowyn’s strong voice called me back from my digressing thoughts. "We have to extract all of our men who are especially endangered." she continued. "But we have to plan this carefully. Faramir isn’t ‘The Cunning’ for no reason. It could be a trap. He probably only wants to trick us out from our hiding-places." She took a deep breath after that. One could see that she was considering all their options in her mind. Then she looked directly at me. "We need someone to contact ‘The Fox’ in Minas Tirith." Her gaze rested doubtfully on me, but I nodded encouragingly, and she continued. "It *is* very dangerous, Aragorn, I will not lie to you. But we have no other choice. We have to warn our people. And for you…" her gaze softened a little, "for you, it is the only possibility to learn more about your lost friend." She laid her hand onto my arm, watching me attentively. "What do you say, Aragorn? Will you help us?"
Again I nodded, giving my consent. "I will. You can trust me."
A mean laugh from the corner followed my last sentence. Angrily I looked at the Elf who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall and opened his mouth to speak now. "We can trust you, is that so? Well, I don’t trust you! If you are a spy, then you will doom us all to death. Have you thought of that, Eowyn? I’m against your decision to send him to ‘The Fox’."

The Lady laughed sarcastically. "That’s nothing new, Haldir. You are always against my decisions. But of course I respect your opinion. Your protest is justified. But I have my reasons. And that *I* trust Aragorn will do it for you, too." She gave him a hard glance.
I hadn’t thought it possible, but his face became even more arrogant. His voice was oily when he answered. "If you say so… of course I cannot assess his…*qualities*… as you can." His tongue slipped out to touch his upper lip and to dart back very quickly with a clicking sound. It was a very obscene gesture, and I was beginning to fume with rage. Eowyn fixed her icy gaze on Haldir. "Beware.", was all what she said to him. He just smiled nastily, then turned and left the room without looking back.
Gimli sighed, then addressed me. "We will start in one hour. Be ready then.", and he plodded out from the room, too.

I looked questioningly at the Lady and Eowyn smiled encouragingly at me. "I’m sure you two will be successful, and I really hope that you find your friend. Your lover…", her hand cupped my cheek and slid slowly over it. "May the Valar protect you, Aragorn.", she added, her voice wavering a little. I smiled in return, and for a moment, we just stood there and looked at each other. Then she also turned and left the room.
I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. The feeling of trouble coming was over-whelming.

~

The journey with Gimli wasn’t as unpleasant as I had first thought it would be. At the beginning, he said little, creating an atmosphere of tension. But bit by bit, the tension eased, and he began to talk, and I have to admit that I really enjoyed his company.
I told him about my search for Legolas, and he told me a little about himself. He seemed to be a ‘rebel of the first hour’. Robust by nature and able to offer resistance, he was indeed perfect for this.
Together we considered what to do when we reached Minas Tirith.

The White City. How long had it been since I was there last?
Not much had changed. Still the streets were full of Orcs and proud Gondorians who strolled through the city, attended by their servants and slaves.-

Gimli seemed to know exactly what to do. He led me through countless streets and lanes, never hesitating until we stood in front of a building resembling more of a shack than a house, and Gimli went straight into it.

The house was empty, except for the rats, spiders and maggots, of course. Many rats, I noticed with disgust, definitely too many.
I tried to suppress the retching feeling that build up in my throat and looked for Gimli. The dwarf was busy with the wooden planks on the ground. He tugged and pottered about them for a few minutes and then grunted that I should get my "ass over here". I grinned and walked over. Together we pulled them up one by one, and I could see very soon what they hid. Under the planks lay a narrow, hidden corridor. It was dark and clammy inside, and we walked silently for what seemed like an eternity.
Suddenly, there was a low shimmer of light, and I could see the lines of an opening above us. We leaned against the solid cover and drew ourselves up. Again we stood inside an empty house. And again we had to walk. It was late afternoon when we finally knocked on a door.

A weathered looking man with dark eyes and the strong hands of a hard worker, opened us. When he saw Gimli, he smiled widely. He looked into street to both sides and then let us in. Gimli embraced the man heartily and introduced him as "Andras".
Soon, we were sitting at a table, eating a bit and discussing the things that had to be arranged now.
- It wouldn’t be easy to warn our men. <Our men…> I did not really count myself among the rebels, although I had to admit that I had begun to care for what they did and what happened to them.
Andras was seriously concerned. Faramir’s spies seemed to be everywhere at present. To meet ‘The Fox’, we had to wait until tomorrow, because Andras wanted to be sure that nobody had followed us.
He spoke with Gimli about some strategies then and about people they both knew, and I felt a little lost between the two. My thoughts were with Legolas and if I would find him. But at last they came to this point, too.

Andras took a sharp breath, watching me carefully and with some sorrow in his eyes. "There are rumours…", he began, " ’One says’, that our dear crown prince Boromir (Andras spat on the ground) has bought a new slave. An Elf… He brought him home some nights ago, when he came from celebrating the birthday of his brother - may the tongue of ‘The Cunning’ get rotten!" Andras shouted with passion and grimaced as if he had bitten into something foul. He continued. "‘One says’, the princes had an enjoyable night at a very exclusive brothel here in town, and in the end ‘The Butcher’ tugged this poor creature with him. Perhaps the mentioned Elf is who you are looking for, but I don’t think that he is still alive. He was barely an Elf anymore, the way he looked…" At this point, Gimli interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat. Andras became quiet. "I didn’t wanted to…", he began after a minute of absolute silence, but I waved my hand a cut to his words. "Don’t. " I answered lowly, the word dull in my ears as if spoken from far away. "You do not need to excuse yourself."
I swallowed. ‘The Butcher’ had my Legolas… - no, it couldn’t be. It did not have to be my lover, right? There are other Elves… But I could not deny the cold fear that gripped my heart, and the quiet voice in my head that told me otherwise. I felt sick. I was barely aware that Gimli and Andras began to talk again and that hours passed until it was far past midnight. Finally we went to bed, and my dreams were filled with desperate cries from my lover. Then the cries became screams and the screams became loud shouts. In an instant, I was out of the bed as were Gimli and Andras. <Soldiers!>

The door gave little resistance to the dozen men who entered the room now. It was impossible to fight in the small room, but we tried nevertheless. The result was, that Andras was stabbed by a sword right into his stomach, and the veiling look in his eyes told me that he was going to die. One of the soldiers (the captain I assume) began to curse the man who had landed the stab. "Damned idiot! We need them alive."
Gimli and I were standing back to back, trying to hold our assailants at arm’s length. But soon, they had over-powered us, swords pointing at our throats, and they knocked us out with their sword hilts when we struggled to hinder them from binding us.

~

My head hurt terribly when I awoke. I shivered, it was cold and dark where I lay. I tried to get up, and chains rattled. Chains on my ankles and wrists. I couldn’t even stand up, only kneel.
Recovering from the first shock, I laid back on the thin layer of straw. I knew exactly what all this meant. - I was in trouble, and this time it was really, really bad…

 

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