The Lingering Darkness Fan-fiction

[Nerindel]

Toby Longholes

Toby sat cross-legged on the front step of the ranger’s quarters, a low structure nestled in the tranquil gardens of Rivendell, where seasoned rangers could find quiet rest bite and where novices could study and practice their skills. He had been relieved when the Rangers Rauthain and Amandur had go off with Avanill and left him behind, even Kaldir had forgotten him and carried on to the main house. They had not left him completely alone, he had the company of a young ranger. Efrin, he had introduced himself. The young man had told him that he was in Rivendell for study and reflection, ‘they wish to tame my wilder side,‘ the young man had winked roguishly as he guided him through the ranger’s complex to the room that had been set aside for him. After Toby had washed and changed into some clothes that had been left for him, they made their way to the kitchens to find something other than dried fruit and stale bread to sate his hunger, which had embarrassingly manifested itself into a loud grumbling in his stomach, something that the young ranger had found highly amusing.

‘So what brings you to Rivendell Master Periannath?’ the young ranger asked as they made their way to the front porch to enjoy the warmth of the fading afternoon. Toby slumped down on the step staring woefully into his bowl, what had brought him here? He thought wearily to himself, the rangers? No, he could not blame them it went back further than that, Bill and old man Sharky? No! Though they perhaps set him on a path, from which there was no return. His mother’s death, his father neglects? Yes that is were it began so angry and confused he had been, he had wanted, no needed answers. However, he never got them. His father fell in to despair and took little notice of anything, much less his son. So much did he crave his father’s attention that he did not care how he got it, he took to thieving small at first, apples from master chubbs orchard or carrots from farmer browns vegetable patch. Still his father paid little heed, ‘he’s justa lad, they get up to mischief don’t they’ he would reply absently to the angry hobbits, when they would call to complain. By the time his father finally died, Toby’s feet were firmly planted on the path he now travelled. A path of his own design he realised bitterly, setting aside his bowl, he was no longer hungry, instead nausea swept over him, He had done this to himself! He was here because of his own choices!

“Are you alright master Longholes, you do not look well can I…” the young ranger asked, now kneeling before him and looking him over with concern. “No, I am not and neither do I deserve to be,” Toby answered sullenly.

The ranger held his gaze for a moment “You know they have a saying here that a burden shared is a burden halved, and you’ll excuse me if I say so, but your burden looks mighty heavy for one to bear alone.” Toby’s eye instinctively narrowed with suspicion, but softened wearily as he saw nothing but compassion and sympathy in the young ranger’s dark eyes.

“I am not deserving of your compassion, Efrin, I would not make a good friend and no doubt many would try to dissuade you from my company if they knew the truth,” he sighed resignedly.

“I have done too many wrongs to ask for forgiveness and took to many wrong turns to ever find my way back!”

“There is always a way back, if you want it bad enough,” Efrin answered undeterred by Toby’s words.

“You don’t understand there is no way back, I am caught here between a rock and a hard place, trapped between rangers and the dark shadows of my past,” he snorted, then immediately apologised.

“Long ago I was taken in by the lies and promises of an old man, he did not ask much of me only to leave my home in Bree and spend sometime in the Shire and share with him the workings of the four farthings, and so for reason that are my own I agreed. Though now when I think back I do not think that even if I wanted to I could have refused the old mans request, it was like he was there but he wasn’t only his voice seemed real if that makes any sense,” he shrugged.

“It was not difficult for me to integrate into Shire life and become the old mans eyes and ears and through the lies and deceptions of the old man I grew to loath the peaceful folk of the Shire. The old mans words twisted at an old pain that already sat heavy in my heart, a resentment and sense of abandonment that I let him corrupt to his own wicked purpose. I never saw the old man after that first meeting, if I had truly seen him at all. Information was past by a southron man named Bill Ferney, who sometimes paid for my services.”

“Services? Bill Ferney? ” Efrin interrupted.

“Yes lad I am a thief and much worse I fear.” he said ruefully and without further word he continued. “So when the old man finally came himself to the Shire, he knew it was defenceless. Moreover, due to me he knew which hobbits to use to gain control. my services did not end there I was made a Sheriff and charged with weeding out any rebels, for I knew that there would be resistance from families like the Tooks and the Brandybucks and that others would secretly support them. The old man intended to break them entirely taking away all that they held dear, pipe weed, ale and so forth. I was embroiled so deeply in lies that I did not see what was happening until it was too late. I had wrapped myself in so much deceit and treachery that I had no choice but to leavein the end. So as well as being a treacherous worm I was also a coward, leaving my people to their fate.” Sighing heavily he buried his face into his hands.

“But far worse still I was fate to be forced into the self same situation, this time instead of a cunning old wizard it was a beautiful elven woman who held me prisoner to my own fears which I wore like a leash, that she yanked every time she thought I needed reminding.” he continued wearily through his hands.

“But you escaped her else you would not be here now?” Efrin pressed gently.

“Vanwe!” he whispered remembering why he had left Naiore's Company and lifting his head to face the young ranger. “We have to help her; she is why I left and how I found the rangers. Her mother did horrors to her that you could not imagine; I swore to myself that I would get her help.” He flustered rising to his feet, only to stop in horror as he saw Gilly standing in front of him. How long had she been there? Whom much had she heard?

“Help always comes when we least expect it,” Efrin whispered, “It is said that there is a new elf within the last house, perhaps this is your friend I will see what I can find out, but for now I think you must face your past if you are to carve a new and better future." The ranger nodded to both hobbits and strode confidently up the path that lead from the ranger’s complex to the last homely house.

Toby lowered his eyes unable to bring himself to look at the woman his shame burning in his cheeks, his terrible secret now exposed to one of the very people he had betrayed. Fear ripped through him, but he stayed his ground, even though the urge to flee was strong within him. He was tired of running Efrin was right he had to face his past, but he still saw no road to redemption. With a resigned sigh, he slumped down onto the step to await the woman’s expected admonishments.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

As she drew closer Gilly saw Toby had now set his bowl aside and was deep in sober conversation with the young ranger who stood near him. He seemed curiously deflated, slumped, as though a great weariness had caught him unaware, or perhaps as the ranger suggested, he was sick. After that cold river crossing, and having swallowed quite a bit of it herself, Gilly could imagine that Toby might truly be suffering a genuine complaint from the rough travel. But being careful not to interrupt the discussion, she took a few steps forward through the greenery and then halted among the bushes until there should come a lull in this serious talk, at which time she thought to approach them.

Try as she might, she could not help but overhear as Toby poured out the remorse of his heart, despairing the course his life had taken. Gilly was drawn in by the Bree hobbit’s confession, listening still more closely as he spoke solemnly of the Shire and an old man’s deceptions. As she struggled to understand, she was shocked by what Toby said of his true business with the Shire folk. And wondered that he might have known of her husband Carl and their friends’ activities in those bleak days of nonsense rules and restrictions. By then it had become so bad in Bywater that one actually had to ask permission of the shirriffs to travel from town to Hobbiton or Frogmorten. Why she had even had to take their leave to go her own parent’s farm outside town, those Southron ruffians going so far as to suggest to the shirriffs that she pay for the permit! And that just after the shop had burned and she and Carl hadn’t even a hatful of potatoes to offer them.

It sent shivers up her spine, as while standing in the gardens of Rivendell, in her mind she heard again the horns sounding that chill autumn day. She and her father had just come into town to complain to the Shirriff there. For one of the lines of maple trees that stood in front of the farm had been hewn down overnight and a band of men where threatening to make charcoal out it, and all the rest too along the road to Waymeet. And just as she and her father had entered Bywater Road, they saw Misters Brandybuck and Took having returned with the others from the War. So stern and tall in their strange clothes they looked. And Sam Gamgee from Hobbiton and Old Tom Cotton and his sons so brave, taking matters into they’re own hands that day. But most of all she recalled Mister Baggins’ persistent call for restraint, bless his heart. He would even be merciful to Saruman, it was told after. So noble and sad it was, she thought at the time, for he had almost died from it they said, when the wizard had tried to knife him for all his care to protect the scoundrel. But never let it be said that hobbits can’t rally in a pinch and see their way out of trouble! That was one thing old Sharkey hadn’t counted on!

But now seeing Toby, bowed low, so that his head rested in his hands and he looked for all the world as though his guilt threatened to sink him, she recalled these things, and began to understand in her own way, some little of what Mister Baggins must have been driving at. And seeing his regret, she felt strangely moved to comfort her fellow hobbit in his unhappiness, walking up to him as he bemoaned this net his fear had caught him in once again.

“Vanwe,” he whispered, suddenly. And quickly Toby raised his head imploring the young ranger standing there to help him find the one who went by this name. For he had promised himself to help her in her difficulties, and when he stood up quickly to go with the ranger, he turned and found Gilly standing there looking as much taken back as he himself, startled in this awkward moment. Gilly looked apologetically toward them, as she realized the blunder of her timing. But the young man drew close to Toby, and after whispering to the hobbit, nodded to them both and took his leave.

Looking red-faced and avoiding her glance, Toby sat down upon the stair at once, blankly staring at the ground under his feet. He moved not a muscle and Gilly could see he felt uncomfortable in her presence, and so felt more than a little uncomfortable herself. “There, there Mister Longholes, don’t mind me now! I am sorry but I heard quite a bit of your story. Intentional it was, of course. But if you don’t mind my saying so, many’s them that fell under the spell of that voice you spoke of. Like honey it was, and making such crystal sense, or so I heard tell. And plenty shirriffs too followed right along in his plans! But that was their own choice, eh? Not yours. All sorts of folk feel bad even now about letting things go as far as they did. Right clever that old man was, and you were not alone in listening to him, so please don’t be trying to carry that weight all on your own now. You might be strong, but it’ll crush you in the end. Mark my words, it will!”

“So much the better for me if it would. If only it happen more quickly!” Toby said with a melancholy grin.

“Surely you don’t mean that, now. Do you?” Gilly questioned, climbing up the stairs to sit beside him.

“I suppose not,” he said shooting her a quick glance. “Leastwise until I see something better done with my life then what I’ve been up to. But that day might never come. I’ve been of no great profit to anyone, not even myself, though I reckon Old Sharkey and Bill Ferny might have gotten something from me. And now what have I to look forward too?”

“Hush!” Gilly hissed. “Don’t speak so! You’ve only been living up to a bad lot’s expectations of you, and if you don’t expect much good of yourself you won’t get very far at all in changing things. But if you give up like this, I really shall think you the laziest sort of coward!”

“You don’t know me Mrs. Banks!”

“No I don’t, not really. But if you tried, I bet that by the time you were to reach the Shire, should you decided to return there, folk will take you to be the best sort of person. For now you know for yourself were such dark roads lead, and that is more than I can say for many I know of. It’d be better for you too than Bree, with that town’s bad influences, sitting at such a crossroad and all. The Shire’s quiet with naught but hobbits around you. And you’d have all four farthings to choose from!”

“Yes, and if I fell into old habits, all four farthings would hear tell of it in no time!”

“Well, I can’t say as you are wrong, but all the more reason to keep on the right road! And if you stray too far from a proper life, I’ll just have to hire Mister Kaldir to go after you and teach you the boundaries, won’t I? But speaking of him, do you know where he has got to? I’ve lost track of him,” Gilly asked, cranking her neck to peer through the bushes.

“He was here some time ago, but only for a moment and then went off again.”

“I do hope that he is feeling alright now, and you too. Think about it though, Mister Longholes, consider going back to make a clean start in the Shire,” she urged him, smiling brightly. “Mister Kaldir has offered to show me the way, and you could easily come along with us if you would like. It would be no problem, though it might set tongues wagging for a bit!”

[Nerindel]

Vanwe

Vanwe continued to help Léspheria tend the wounded of Imladris and with each new patient, she came to realise the extent of her mothers wrongness, as she came to think of it. Did she really have no regard at all for the life of others… of her own kin? A little guilt settled on her own heart as she wondered if there had been anything, she could have done to prevent this travesty. Her mother had insisted that the elves had abandoned them both, adding fuel to her own fears and doubts, but now among her kin she could not see it. The elves of Imladris showed her nothing but kindness and compassion and unlike the race of men, they had not turned her away after realising that she was not Naiore. Instead, they had welcomed her into their home and she had the strong feeling that if her mother came to reclaim her they would stand and protect her, her father and Léspheria at the forefront. Her guilt fuelled her need to undo some of her mother’s wrongs and she helped the healers as best she could, listening and following their gentle instructions.

With each new instruction, she grew in confidence with her ability, but was careful not to let it go to her head. It felt right to be using her gift to help others and no one here seemed to fear what she was doing and instead of the punishments she received at the hands of the Haradrim, she received only gentle praise and encouragement. The patients and the assistants showed her the same respect as they did the Lady Léspheria, which in truth puzzled her slightly as she was no where near as confident and self possessed, as the lady Léspheria appeared to be. There were of course those who regarded her with suspicion and looked on her with hateful eyes and she could only assume that her mothers hand was again somehow involved, but she would not press the matter and hurried past those who regarded her so.

She watched as Léspheria tended the last of the wounded elven warriors, dark lines now graced the elven woman’s soft and gentle features and the strong and confident demeanour of the woman’s frame was now marked with exhaustion and weariness. She too could feel the physical demands exacted by the use of their gift, it drained their strength and left them tired and weak, but on several occasions she had witnesses more in Léspheria, notably when they worked on the more seriously wounded. Pain etched her face as she worked, a pain that seemed to mirror that of the wound on which they worked to heal. She recalled the ranger Amandur telling her that Léspheria was sensitive to the emotions of others, back at the inn when the elf had taken a fall from her horse and she also remembered that when she had re-awakened she had told the ranger that her brother was in danger. But was this not what her mother did, sense the emotions of others and manipulated them to her own purpose? Was this not what they did when they manipulated damaged bones and flesh into repairing itself? A cold shiver ran through her as she thought that she too could one day be capable of the things her mother was accused.

“No!” she whispered, defiantly shaking her head. She was not her mother and she would not become her, She was Vanwe just Vanwe. She knew that she would never fully escape her mothers lingering shadow but at least here, she had her father and kin who seemed to accept and welcome her into their community.

However as she continued to watch Léspheria new questions entered her mind, had her first meeting with Léspheria been coincidental? Why then had the elf defended her against the bounty hunter? Her father had told her that Naiore had killed Léspheria’s mother, so was she out for revenge? Vanwe knew that these questions and many others would have to be answered if she was to find peace here among her own kind.

Vanwe purposefully walked over to were Léspheria was now washing her hands, then placing her own blood stained hands into a second bowl of warm water, she stared as the clear water turned a dirty pinkie red. “What is your part and why do you help the rangers?” she asked, reaching for the soap and purposely avoiding the other elf’s gaze.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Rauthain

Rauthain and Avanill stood watching as Amandur, his dark mood now unexpectedly lifted, strode easily up the path ahead of them, the old ranger dwelling on what was said in his parting. It would indeed be a gift to have a chance to start anew, as Avanill now had with them, one that he himself had much longed for in earlier days. But pushing aside his own self-reproach, Rauthain determined to help Avanill along the way as much as he safely could. Turning to the young man he addressed him, “It looks as though we will be traveling together for many leagues then. And so long as you keep to the path laid out for us, know that I will do all I can to support and defend you. But it would bring much relief to all, and perhaps Amandur also, if you were to allow me to bear your satchel for you. You should not be tempted to test such things in our presence, until that time when they may be used against the Ravennor.”

Avanill made no move concede to this wish, but fixed Rauthain with his impassive eyes. And after a pause the old ranger stretched out his arm gesturing with two long fingers for the young man to surrender his pack. “I assure you, I will keep it safe for you,” he said, “and will not touch its contents, for I do not know what to make of them.” And seeing Avanill remained unconvinced he continued. “Surely you will trust me for so little a thing. Let us not start out in such a way. But we must work as one force if we are to accomplish our aim.”

Slowly, the young man removed the satchel from off his shoulder, as if he had decided which road to take after much careful consideration, and held it out to the ranger. “Be careful with it then, for it might as well be filled with the rich findings of a dragon’s hoard, so rare it’s elements.”

“If half of what you have told us is true, then be sure I do not wish to disrupt the things of your craft, for they will prove useful to us in the end, and it would be folly to tamper with them,” he said slinging the pack gingerly over one shoulder. But let us go now, for I still have not seen what has become of Dúlrain, and would speak with him. And perhaps the elves might see to your hurts as well, if you were to ask it of them.”

And together they left the garden, bound for the place of healing, and the chamber that held Dúlrain. When at last they found him, Rauthain saw that the southern woman was still at the wounded ranger’s side, silent and mopping his brow. But as he drew closer and saw the ranger’s face, which had been turned toward the woman, he quickly grew alarmed to see him now unconscious and with a pallor that denoted great loss of blood. Frowning he looked to Benia. “What has befallen him, dear lady, for was not he mending well when I met you last in the Lonelands? And now he is sleeping in midday, and so wan he looks?”

“Truly, it seemed he was mending, but we were hard pressed by orcs, and in helping all in our company to cross the river this has happened, his deep wound opening and a fever setting in. But he is improving,” she said looking long upon the sleeping man. “And Lady Léspheria has said that he will recover.” But Rauthain could see in the woman’s face the traces of concern and hope she had this would be the outcome, for the lovely eyes held a plaintive look and her delicate brow raised, hinting of present care.

Ah worthy woman! the older ranger thought to himself. Does she not know that this is the fate of all that would give their heart to one who would wander as a ranger? Then becoming conscious that he was staring at the scene before him, lost among his own memories, he quickly looked to Avanill. “If the Lady Léspheria has said that he will be well once again, I would not doubt it. For she is an elf maiden of many strengths and not the least of them in healing.”

“She and many here have aided him in his need, and for that I am grateful,” Benia said, drawing Rauthain’s attention once more.

“He is a good man, and deserving of much, as are many of my brethren.” Rauthain said tuning to meet her gaze. “And I should be glad if he were to be able to continue on in his duty, for Kaldir sake as well my own. But though it is in the blood of my people to be quickly restored, I do not think even the elves could work this recovery in such short a time. But of these things I know little, only that they have great skill in the art.”

“But look here, surely his color has improved, even since we arrived,” Avanill declared, carefully studying the patient’s features.

“Has it? That is happy news, is it not?” the old ranger said, brightening. “Then if you will excuse us, we shall leave you now and will come again, perhaps tomorrow, to see your charge’s progress. For there is much to be done before we can leave.” And wishing the lady well, the two returned to the corridor searching out a place to bathe and bandage Avanill’s injuries before heading again to the rangers’ dwelling and the stables. For Rauthain was eager to find a way to send Juta north again to the horse’s master, and sought fresh horses for them both.

[Ealasaide]

Kaldir

After leaving the battlefield, Kaldir went first to the stables where he saw to the care of the pack pony who had carried Mrs. Banks so faithfully across the countryside. Having handed the little animal over to the Elven stablemaster and his assistants, Kaldir took a quick look around the other stalls, locating both Benia Nightshade's bay mare and Dúlrain's gelding. There was still no sign of his own horse. Having exhausted every other possibility for the wherabouts of his mount, Kaldir accepted the knowledge that the stubborn beast had run off and was simply out there somewhere, that is, of course, if he had not been eaten by orcs by now, which was also an unfortunate possibility.

"Too bad, if that's the case," he murmured to himself, giving Dúlrain's horse a parting pat on the neck. Turning to go, he bumped his wounded shoulder against an open stall door and winced. He looked down and noticed for the first time that the injury had been bound with the lacy shreds of a woman's petticoat, no doubt the work of Mrs. Banks. Kaldir smiled wryly with the good side of his face. How ironic that he should owe such a debt of gratitude, perhaps even his life, to someone he had abducted and carried along with him simply because he didn't know what else to do with her. He remembered the feeling he had had soon after capturing her and Benia outside of Chetwood that the two women had something fundamental to do with him and his destiny. Now, he thought, he was beginning to see what that something was. The gentle presence of the two women was slowly but surely drawing the poisons of Mordor out of his system, Gilly with her hobbitsense and humor, and Benia with her patience and quiet courage. Both of them were fiercely loyal to each other and, he was touched to notice, to a growing degree, himself. Under their influence, he was beginning to feel like a living soul again, no longer a battered and empty shell.

Crossing the open ground between the stable and the halls of Imladris, Kaldir let his thoughts drift to Benia. While she had shown an open and marked preference for Dúlrain over the past several days, he still had hopes that he could find a way to convince her to remain at his own side when the time came to leave the shelter of Imladris. Perhaps Dúlrain, for whatever reason, would reject her affections. Kaldir could only hope. In the meantime, while he honestly wished Dúlrain a swift and complete recovery from his wounds, Kaldir still felt determined to do his best to win Benia over for himself, Dúlrain notwithstanding. If his profession as bounty hunter toubled her - and he was certain it did - he could give it up. He could change. With Benia beside him, Kaldir felt certain that he could begin his life anew... perhaps even rejoin the company of his former brethren if they would have him. He turned the thought over in his mind as he entered the Hall of Healing. There was still time. Perhaps if he could show Benia that he was serious about changing his life... maybe, perhaps, if...

"Aigh!" Kaldir groaned aloud, as he entered a small side room to await the attention of the healers. "It would be so much simpler if I could just drag her off by her hair."

"Who?" asked a voice behind him.

Kaldir turned quickly to discover that he was not alone in the room as he had originally thought. Amandur sat in a chair off to one side, also waiting for healers and cradling what looked like a broken arm. Kaldir smiled ruefully and nodded to the senior Ranger.

"Greetings, Amandur," he said casually. "My apologies. I thought I was alone."

The older Ranger nodded in response, but persisted with a smile. "My apologies as well for eavesdropping, but seeing as you have already carried off both Mrs. Banks and Miss Nightshade, I can't help but wonder what female you are thinking of abducting now."

Kaldir laughed softly. "Miss Nightshade again, if you must know," he answered. "But it would not be for a bounty, I assure you."

"No?" Amandur raised an eyebrow. "I understand that there are certain people about who would still pay very well for any remnants of the Painted Sand Tribe. Even the women."

"That's true." Kaldir nodded gravely. "But I find my interest in bounty-hunting waning of late." He paused, giving Amandur a considering look. If anyone would be able to tell him how the idea of his returning to the life of a Ranger would be received, it would be Amandur. Kaldir chose his words carefully. "I would sooner offer my sword to protect the desert lady than I would use it to bring her harm."

"That is indeed good to hear," answered Amandur. "Many people, including Lady Léspheria, were greatly troubled by the disappearance of your companions from the Forsaken Inn."

"I confess my motives were not so noble then."

"And now?"

"Now I owe them both a great deal, which I hope to repay someday if I can." Kaldir hesitated for barely a second, then added rather defensively, "When I spoke just now of dragging Miss Nightshade off by her hair, it was a joke. To myself."

Amandur nodded his understanding. "Then would I be correct in assuming that Miss Nightshade may have had something to do with your recent change in interests?"

Kaldir's pale blue eyes narrowed slightly as he considered his answer. To tell the truth and speak of his feelings for Benia to another would reveal himself in such a way that the pattern of caginess that had protected him so well for so long would be broken. On the other hand, if he was serious in his desire to leave bounty-hunting and return to the society of his traditional brethren, he could not begin by lying to his captain. For a long moment, Kaldir's two conflicting sides struggled for dominance, the old lean, wolflike instinct to survive against the new hope and optimism that had recently taken root within him. Finally, coming to a decision, he nodded.

"You would," he said quietly. "I have traveled a dark and twisted path since Raven Falls. When I stole Miss Nightshade from her bed at the Forsaken Inn, my intention was to kill her for the bounty. Something I did not understand at the time stayed my hand. Since then, I find myself increasingly unwilling to be parted from her." He gave Amandur a piercing look, trying to gauge the reaction of the older Ranger. "She brings light to a side of me that has not seen the sun in a very long time. Because of her, whether I am able to forge a life with her eventually or not, I find that I wish to be a better man again."

Falling back into his old habit of hints and innuendos, Kaldir stopped short of voicing outright his interest in returning to the company of the other Rangers. Instead, he waited quietly for Amandur's reaction, to see if the other man had heard the underlying message in his words.

************************************

Naiore

Naiore spent the hours of daylight that passed since she concealed herself in the tree behind the main hall of Imladris in stillness and silent observation. And in waiting. In the aftermath of the Battle at the Stairs, the place had become a beehive of activity, with a great deal of traffic moving about the grounds, and most especially back and forth between the stable and the main hall. The faintest smile traced around the corners of her lips as, at one point, she caught sight of the bounty hunter, Kaldir, who had once been at her mercy in Mordor. Fascinated by his strength of mind and his stubborn resistance to her will, she had let him live then in the hope of turning him to her purposes. She been so close, too close. But then Mordor had fallen and she had been forced to flee, leaving her work unfinished. Since then, he had become a dangerous foe. No, a worthy opponent. That was all. He thought he could destroy her, but she had wrought much change upon him during her time with him. Whether he was aware of it or not, he was still connected to her by a line of consciousness that bound him to her as if by a silken thread.

"And a mere tweak upon the thread..." she murmured, watching his tall figure move down the path toward the stable. "That fool orc said you were dead, Dunedan. I should have known better." Closing her starlit eyes, she reached out toward him with her mind, searching out his familiar aura of anger and hatred. Finding it, she arched a delicate eyebrow. There was something else within his aura now, too. Something new and very powerful.

"What is it, Dunedan?" Naiore whispered to his retreating back. "Have you fallen in love?" A chilling smile drifted across the elf's beautiful features. "Who is she?" the Ravenner asked as the bounty hunter vanished from view. "I wonder, my friend, if she is truly worthy of you."

[Nerindel]

Amandur

On his way to the halls of the healers, Amandur mulled over possible plans for their continuing hunt of the revennor of Mordor. With the addition of Avanill and his potions, they now had the means with which to subdue the elf for the long journey south to Minas Tirith. Where she would finally face the judgement of the King and the council of the United Kingdoms, but first they had to catch the elusive creature. Looking down at his broken arm, he cursed silently, the longer they stayed in the comforts of the last homely house the further from their grasp she would slip. But no matter how strongly he counselled himself that they should leave, he realised that it would be folly, they were tired and in need of healing and a chance to regroup and collect their thought. Mistakes were bound to be made if they carried on the way they were and mistakes were the revennor was concerned could prove fatal, he could only hope that the mistakes would be hers, perhaps the presence of her daughter and the elf who once loved her would be enough to precipitate such a mistake, he thought wearily.

Reaching the halls, he pushed aside his thoughts and sought out Léspheria, his grey eyes searching just to catch a glimpse of her warm, caring smile or the determination in her soft grey eyes as she fought to save the life of one of her patients. He inhaled deeply as he recalled all the little things that made him love her more and more. Many had counselled him against his heart and at first he had listened. She would have to give up much to be with him and that price seemed too high for them both. so they remained friends and when his heart would not relent and he longed for more than friendship he returned north to Anor and they saw less and less of each other, separated by work, distance, fear, uncertainty… But Amandur could no longer deny his heart, he had witnessed her pain over the past fortnight and it tore at his heart, she had strength and wisdom that always seemed to astound him, but still she choose to fight alone. He longed for her to let him in, he wanted to help her, but she resisted and he felt like he was losing her, but to what he could not say.

His eyes passed from elf to elf but she was not there, so he passed on to a small side room to await the attentions of the healers. Sinking down into a chair at the far side of the room he shook his head, ‘If only she could see how much she means to me and how much I would give to see her safe’ he sighed to himself.

“Aigh!” a familiar voice groaned, causing him to look up.

“It would be so much simpler if I could just drag her off by her hair,” the voice was that of Kaldir and Amandur allowed himself a wry grin as Kaldir’s words fitted with his thoughts at present. If only it were that simple! He thought to himself.

“Who?” he asked instead. Kaldir turned a rueful smile his way, surprised that he was not alone he greeted him and quickly apologised for airing his thought aloud. Amandur nodded, but his curiosity was fixed and he pressed on jovially.

“My apologies as well for eavesdropping, but seeing as you have already carried off both Mrs Banks and Miss Nightshade, I can’t help but wonder what female you are thinking of abducting now.” Kaldir laughed softly and explained that it was again Miss Nightshade to whom he was referring and that his reasons were honourable.

“No?” Amandur grinned raising a surprised eyebrow. “I understand that there are certain people about who would still pay very well for any remnants of the painted sand tribe. Even the women.” he went on pushing the matter and then listened intently as Kaldir went on to explain his waning interest in his chosen profession.

“That is indeed good to hear,” he said, explaining the concerns of Léspheria and several others at the inn over the southern woman’s disappearance. It eased his mind when Kaldir admitted that his intentions of the time were not so noble.

“And now?” he asked, suspecting that feelings for his captive was what had stayed his hand.

“Now I owe them both a great deal, which I hope to repay some day if I can.” Amandur bit his lip and nodded as Kaldir rather defensively added that he had been joking to himself when he spoke of dragging Miss Nightshade off by the hair.

“Then I would be correct in assuming that miss Nightshade may have had something to do with your recent change in interests?” he grinned. Kaldirs eyes narrowed as he contemplated his answer, then slowly he nodded, quickly confirming what Amandur had already guessed. He continued to listen as the ex-ranger continued to explain the changes he felt.

“She brings light to a side of me that has not seen the sun in a very long time. Because of her, whether I am able to forge a life with her eventually or not, I find that I wish to be a better man again.” Amandur could not begin to imagine the extent of the darkness Kaldir spoke of, but he could guess at its source and that it stemmed from the unfortunate events of Raven falls, but for wanting to better himself for the love of a woman that he did understand and a sympathetic smile curled his lips. And even though Kaldir did not speak it, he sensed that the ex-ranger was testing the waters, trying to gauge from him how if he chooses to return to the ranks of his brethren he would be received. It would not be an easy transition; there would always be those who would view him with suspicion, unable or unwilling to forget his past indiscretions. But as he took measure of the man before him he saw that the narrow mindedness of a few stubborn rangers would be nothing to him a man who had weathered the darkest depths, emerging forever changed but strengthened by his choices and now it seemed he was again willing to find his place among his people. Amandur in that instant resolved to help the bounty hunter embrace the light and walk again the path that was set for him before the trials of raven falls.

“If truly you find your interest in bounty hunting waning, perhaps you would consider again following the path of the rangers. I for one would be glad to see your return.” he smiled cordially.

“But I would not delude you, my friend, there will be those who may not be as eager as I to have a wolf among its flock so to speak,” he continued solemnly.

“Yet my voice may carry some weight in your favour among them and I have no doubt that young Dúlrain will strongly add his voice to your cause if that is truly your want. But ultimately it will be your own actions that will determine how you are received, as it is with all that walk our path in life.” he paused for a moment considering whether or not to bring up the past, to share with Kaldir the events after Raven falls as he knew them. He debated whether dredging up old memories would only prove to push the ranger further away? He could still see something in Kaldirs eyes that troubled him. Things left unspoken old hurts and grievances that would need resolving if he was truly going to leave his past behind him and start his life a new, with that thought in mind Amandur decided to tell the troubled ranger what he knew.

Looking up at the scarred face of the younger man he motioned for him to sit, his smile now faded and replaced with a sombre seriousness that marked the depth of what needed to be shared. He could not be certain how Kaldir would receive his words, only knowing with certainty that they must be spoken if any reconcilement was to be reached.

“Dulrain did not give up hope that you were alive for a very long time, he thought very highly of you and it took a very long time for him to accept that you were gone.” He paused for a moment to let his words sink in then continued, “It was I who finally persuaded him to accept that you where dead. Do not mistake me I do not make any apologies for my decision, I saw what it was doing to him to hang on to a seemingly hopeless search.

The signs at the falls all suggested that you lost your weapons and were pressed back towards the river, were we assumed you were lost to the falls, the bloodied cloak and no sign of you emerging either side of the river suggested that you had not survived. My only apology would be that we did not consider that the orcs might have taken a prisoner; it was not usually their way. Dúlrain became consumed with guilt.” Seeing Kaldirs perplexed frown he nodded, silently agreeing that he too at first had not understood why the young ranger would feel any guilt when he was not even witness to the events.

“I do not know you as well as Dúlrain but from what the young ranger shared with me I discerned that he believed you would always be there to look out for him and it was unconceivable to him that it should be you who would get into any kind of trouble. When the apparent reality of what had happened finally sunk in and he was forced to give up his search and return to his life a dark cloud of guilt and despair hung over him. For once in your lives you needed his help and he was not there, he felt as if he had betrayed you; let you down and he has never forgiven himself. He immersed himself in his duties and tried to lead the life he thought you would have expected of him and then there was the orcs…” Amandur shivered as he recalled the first time he had witnessed his young friend hatred.

“I have no love of the vile creatures, but I pitied any of them who happened to run into Dulrain, he shows them no mercy, it was orcs who had taken from him the only family he had ever known and that he could never forgive or forget.”

“It seems Ironic that he should find you now, a bounty hunter, a hired sword, the opposite of what he has struggled to up hold in your memory. Though I believe irony was the furthest thought from his mind, to give up all hope that you were alive and then to run into you years later. It must have reopened old wounds and stirred up fresh guilt. I only wish I had recognised you when we first found you then perhaps both of you could have found some peace, but I cannot change the past. I only hope that you and he can find again the friendship you once shared, he again will need your strength and perhaps he will have his chance to save you as he seems to need to.”

As Kaldir digested and contemplated his words he smiled wearily and then again clapped Kaldirs good shoulder, “I do hope you choose to return to us my friend, but one more question I have to ask, What of Naiore?” he studied the Ex-rangers scarred features as he awaited an answer.

[Nerindel]

Léspheria

The steady stream of wounded elves and rangers needing the healers care and attention was enough to keep Léspheria focused and busy enough for her own concerns and fears to temporary be pushed to the back of her mind. Nevertheless, each time a door opened she found herself glancing up, hoping that Amandur would walk through alive and well. She had not seen him since they parted at the stairs and she was beginning to worry, what if he had been hurt and could not return or worse if he was… she could not bring herself to finish the thought. Off course he would be all right, he had been in these types of situations numerous times before and survived, she silently reminded herself, if he were hurt, he would be here with the others? She thought trying to reassured herself.

Dipping her hands into the lukewarm water that had been provided for her, she let her thoughts return to Benia and Dulrain. The strength that the Southern woman drew from her love for the wounded ranger had astounded her. Benia’s love gave her hope and determination that Lespheria had not thought possible and she came to realise that if the woman could she would do anything to help the man she loved, she also suspected that if the roles where reversed the ranger would be of the same mind, no matter what other conflicts troubled his mind.

Again, her thoughts turned to Amandur, Wondering why if he was well she had not yet seen him, fearing that perhaps he did not wish to see her. She had been pushing him away so that he would not become a weakness that Naiore could use against her. Her stomach knotted as she realise how cold and unfeeling that decision had been, had Naiore herself not done the same thing, with both Menecin and her mother, until their persistence had become a nuisance to her and their love twisted and returned only in hatred and loathing. Léspheria paled as fear gripped her heart, would she have really thrown away his love for the pursuit of Naiore, was that what Lord Celeborn meant when he asked if she would let Naiore be her ruin. No! She thought resolutely, I love him; I could never bring myself to hate him, but what if it was too late?

“What is your part and why do you help the rangers?”

Vanwe’s question startled her out of her thoughts, taking her by surprise, even though it was not truly unexpected. Drying her hands, she turned to regard the younger elf, and pondered how and were she should begin. Did she really know herself what her part was? Did she only help the rangers at her brother’s request? Did she need to know why Naiore had turned from her kin, betraying her mother’s friendship?

“Come,” she whispered, setting down the towel and silently guiding Vanwe from the halls. They entered a small room that opened out into a sweet smelling garden, where they could speak more freely. Various books and scrolls depicting the healing and restorative properties of herbs and plants lined the far wall, small vials, drying herbs and various plants and flowers took up the other wall. A sturdy looking table sat in the centre of the room, a stone pestle and mortar, sat at its centre, with parchment and ink near at hand. Léspheria’s hand gently ran along the edge of the table as she walked towards the large glass doors that led out into the garden. It had been along time since she had entered this particular room, she could still smell the gentle fragrance of herbs and sweet scented flowers, which always reminded her of her mother.

A smile curved her lips as memories of herself and her mother working together in this room filled her thoughts, the hours spent studying the various properties of some new plant and trying to determine if it held anything they could use in their healing arts. Placing her hands on the vine engraved handles of the garden doors, she opened them outward, allowing the night air and the sweet smells of the well-tended garden enter the room.

“It’s beautiful,” Vanwe, whispered behind her, she did not need to look back to know that Vanwe referred to the breathtaking beauty of her mothers garden, which the healers of Imladris maintained in her mother memory. Small white star shaped flowers trailed up across a small stone statue of a woman at the centre of the garden, like stars in the darkness of the night air.

“This was my mother’s garden,” she smiled turning to face Vanwe, “The healers now tend it, to honour and preserve her memory.”

Vanwe’s contented smile faded and she turned from the garden to regard her with sorrow-filled eyes, “Do you seek to avenge your mother’s death?” she asked hesitantly.

Léspheria thought for a moment, and then placing a reassuring hand on Vanwe’s shoulder, she shook her head, “No, it would not have been my mothers want and I would not dishonour her memory by seeking such a course.” Vanwe frowned then not fully understanding, but Léspheria simply smiled forlornly.

“Naiore and my mother were once friends, but that is not why I am connected to you or your mother. I have something to show you.” she turned from the elf and made her way to the shelves of books and scrolls, it took her a moment to find what she was looking for, but pulling out a large scroll she unrolled in on the table and beckoned for Vanwe to come and look. A silver swan marked the top of the parchment, “This is the family tree of the house of Finarfin.” Vanwe’s eyes widened in surprise, she had discovered during her search for her mother that she was of that elven house, though at the time, she hadn’t known what that meant and a part of her still didn’t. Léspheria stepped back to allow Vanwe to study the ancient parchment, she watched the young elf’s eyes and long fingers trace the names and families.

“This is your family?” Vanwe asked, pointing to the names Valaindon and Finderon.

“Yes, those are the names of my parents. The name next to mine is that of my twin brother Lóthaniel.” she smiled.

“And this?” Vanwe frowned pointing to a blank space further along the aged parchment. It looked as though a name had been removed or forgotten.

Léspheria looked at the space and sighed, “I too once asked the very same question and was told by the lore masters that it was simply a mistake. I had no reasons then to doubt their words and thought no more on it, until recently.” she paused for a moment and then went on, “For someone to have their name remove or left out of their family line, they must have done something terrible that brought great shame on their house. It is far easier to erase the memory than to live with the shame. She said shaking her head regrettably. Carefully lifting the scroll, she held it before the light of one of the lamps, so that the faint indentation of a name could be seen.

“Naiore Dannan!” Vanwe whispered holding Léspheria‘s gaze, she already knew that it was her mothers name that had been removed, why else would Léspheria show her this document. However, had her mother not said that her kin had abandoned them, did this not prove it!

“The elves did not abandon Naiore, she abandoned them,” Léspheria said as if reading her thoughts. “Naiore used and betrayed my mother as she no doubt used and betrayed your father. My mothers friendship was so strong that she could not give up hope that her cousin was beyond help, a loyalty that in the end cost her life, as I believe your father love almost cost him his.”

Tears ran down Vanwe’s cheeks as she hugged her arms tightly about her chest, realising that Léspheria spoke the truth, had not her mother just tried to use her to betray her father! She turned away to face the moonlit sky, ashamed that she had allowed herself to be used as her mothers tool.

“My father believes that she is flawed, does that mean that I too may carry the same flaw?” she whispered uncertain that she really wanted to know the answer, but Léspheria stood before her, smiling reassurringly “No I do not believe you carry your mother’s flaws. Have you not wondered why I did not mistake you for Naiore when first we met?” Vanwe looked up nodding her head, “Yes I have wondered…,” she whispered holding the others gaze.

“I share with your mother the ability to sense the emotions of others, though we use our gifts for entirely different purposes,” she added seeing the shock in Vanwe’s jewelled eyes.

“I have never met your mother, something that my family has taken great pains up until now in ensuring, perhaps fearing that I would follow my mothers course or worse Naiores. But it was impossible for them to hid from me the legacy of Naiore, her crimes are known in other lands, especially in Rohan were she inflicted the most pain. Our kinship I did not know until you revealed it to me back at the inn then remembering the gap in my family line it all fell into place. Although you fitted the descriptions I had of Naiore, your emotions did not. They were not those of someone who had committed the crimes your mother was accused, they did not fit with her reputation, your eyes are unmistakably those of your father, who I had met. Your fear and uncertainty stopped me from revealing to you our kinship, I feared that the knowledge would cause you to flee, so I chose to befriend you, to gain your confidence so that I could help you when the time came and you learned the truth of your heritage for yourself. But it seemed that fate had different plans for you and me.” Lespheria sighed.

“I knew the rangers searched for Naiore, but I did not know that they tracked you in the hopes that you would lead them to their quarry. Not until the arrival of Amandur did I know this and I was not pleased. Until then I had not thought your life in any danger, I knew that Naiore would know the rangers searched for her, I worried what she would draw from your presence, she trusts no one and I was sure after you told me of your life in Harad that that mistrust would also extend to her daughter. However, my brother was in trouble and I had to leave, I made Amandur promise to keep an eye on you and gave you my key hoping that with the rangers and the bounty hunter about you would use it, then I left to help my brother. However, before I could even reach him he sent word for me to return to the inn and help the rangers in their search for Naiore, so I turned back to rejoin the rangers. Through the course of our journey from Bree I have sensed your mother’s presence as she has sensed mine, I know the flaw your father speaks of and it is not in you, you must believe me on this Vanwe,” she urged gently.

“It is our choices in life that make us who we are and what we become, you may always have to live with the shadow of your mothers past but your action will help others to see past your parentage. Does the sun refuse to rise simply because the clouds block her light and hid her beauty?” she smiled sympathetically.

For a long time the two elves looked out at the heavens, each lost in their own thoughts. After a time they spoke again, Léspheria listened and answered Vanwe’s questions telling her a little of the history of their kin and of the Valar. Vanwe also told her about the deaths of Tallas and Meathor, to which Léspheria informed her that Meathor had not been kill by Avanill and Barrold that day, but by orcs at the battle of the ford. They talked until exhaustion caught up on them and they both fell asleep on a bench beneath the stars in the garden of her mother, the healers did not disturb them, it was a warm night so they laid covers over them and let them sleep.