The Lingering Darkness Fan-fiction

[Ealasaide]

Barrold Ferny

As the sound of hoof beats faded into the distance, Barrold Ferny realized two things: the first was that Naiore had really gone, leaving him free to go about his own business again, just as he had been before she turned up. He had been so certain that this venture was going to end badly that the idea sunk in slowly. The other thing was that he was still alive and in full control of his faculties, not to mention full control of a set of very valuable mithril book covers and a enticingly delectable woman. While Naiore Dannan had not delivered on all of the power and riches she had promised, Ferny decided that he really had not done too badly for himself. He hefted the pack that contained the book covers higher on his shoulders and looked over to where Benia Nightshade stood with her cloak clutched tightly around her shoulders like a protective cocoon. Ferny licked his lips as a flurry of prurient thoughts flew through his mind. Finally, he sighed. If it weren't such a miserable night, he might have laid her down right then and there and seen about ripping into that little cocoon of hers, but the freezing rain and mud had gone a long way toward dampening his ardor. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow when the sun is shining, I’ll find a place where there’s a cover of trees and perhaps a spot of warm grass...

Ferny jumped as white branch lightning tore the sky over his head, accompanied by a deafening crash of thunder. Cursing under his breath as the rain redoubled in its intensity, he reached out and gave Benia Nightshade a shove. They needed either to find shelter or keep moving, one of the two. No one could ever say that Barrold Ferny didn’t have enough sense to get out of the rain. But the blow had caught Benia by surprise. She lost her balance and slipped in the mud, landing on her knees.

"Get up!" roared Ferny, suddenly furious at the woman's clumsiness. He landed a sharp kick to her backside, which caused her to pitch forward. She caught herself from falling flat only by throwing her bound hands out in front of her. Still cursing, Ferny grabbed her by the base of her thick braid through her cloak and dragged her to her feet. Placing his face against her hooded cheek, he growled into her ear. "You’ll move if you want to live through the night."

Ferny released her with a push in the direction of east. "We need to reach the Anduin by dawn," he shouted at her over the roar of wind and rain. "We’ll ford the river by daylight."

He watched with satisfaction as her hood nodded submissively and she began to walk in the direction of the river and his ultimate destination of the Dale.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

Gilly woke to the sound of staccato whispers close by her. It was dark and she could hear a rumbling thunder that broke through the rolling waves of rain. The hobbit had no idea how long she had been asleep, but felt damp and miserable, and considerably less tired. She found her eyes were stuck shut from tears shed before drifting off, and raised a hand to clear them as she lay listening to the conversation.

“Now?” an incredulous voice said. “In this dark?”

“I know where we are headed. We do not need much light.”

“But I could dress this nicely in no time at all, I promise you. We could use something to eat. Later maybe, when you feel we could spare a bit of a fire.” Gilly, tucked away in her den, smiled to hear that. Toby must have had some success looking for a meal.”

“No, we have not time,” Dúlrain pressed. “Quickly now, wake Mrs. Banks. We will leave at once.”

Lightening flashed. Gilly saw the ranger’s tall figure cross in front of the tree roots, and it was dark once again. “Mrs. Banks, Mrs. Banks!” Toby said, suddenly close by and shaking her shoulder. “You must wake up straightaway. It is time we set out once more.” She struggled to collect her thoughts, wondering if something had happened. Sitting up, Gilly crossed her arms over her stomach and asked the other hobbit why they were leaving when the storm seemed to have grown more furious, “I don’t know. He hasn’t said,” Toby replied to her questioning. “He only told me to wake you, and as soon as your up we’re off.’’

“Then I best get moving,” Gilly said, but Toby had already gone, leaving her alone in the hollow. The hobbit tried to remember those things she had cast aside as she lay down, her fingers moving to search the dirt for Benia’s sword. Finding it, she stood up stiffly and slung it over her shoulder before climbing out from under the sheltering roots.

Gilly jogged to where Toby stood at the ranger’s side. “What is wrong?” she asked as she drew up to them. “Something has gone wrong hasn’t it?” Dúlrain looked her way as thunder rumbled in the distance.

“It remains to be seen,” he said hurriedly, as he fastened his pack. “I have stumbled on something troubling, as I searched the way ahead.” He looked at Gilly. “Do not worry, there was no sign of Miss Nightshade there. But I fear it may have some bearing on her situation. We should not tarry here.” Gilly nodded.

The ranger led the small group south along the tree line and over a bluff, before turning eastward to more open country. Through wind and heavy rain they shortly came to a lone oak. It was there among the gnarled roots, the hobbits saw the remains of a small fire, where the ground beside the charred earth shone dark red in the flickering lightening. Gilly quickly turned away. But Dúlrain searched the ground around the tree carefully, “This is Barrold Ferny’s cursed work,” he said. “See his tracks clearly leading west again with the slain man’s horse, the same direction as he had come.”

“The murderous horse thief!” Gilly declared hotly.

“I can vouch for your assessment of him, Mrs. Banks. He is as vile as they get,” Toby agreed, before addressing Dúlrain. “Do you think he is really on his own then?” he asked.

“No. If that were the case I do not think he would have gone back by the same route. Naiore is after a horse. It would serve her well to have one, now that she has crossed over the mountains and the way lies open to the south. At this point we can only hope that the mud might serve to slow the poor beast down,” Dúlrain said.

“But only one horse?” Gilly broke in. “Can all three ride one?” Dúlrain did not answer her, but followed his own thoughts.

“Ferny was here not long ago. We have lost a good deal of time and must make haste,” he said walking up the incline. “Back up toward the trees” he directed. Toby and Gilly obeyed. With the thick mud, the hobbits struggled to keep pace with the ranger who guided them, but after a mile or so Dúlrain slowed and the hobbits had an easier time keeping abreast of him. The horse and rider he had been tracking had met with another pair of prints he told them, and the rider trailing the new prints. Gilly was relived to see Dúlrain point out several narrow ones filled high with rainwater. They looked the right size for Miss Benia.

But it was not long before Gilly found herself running once more, to keep up as Dúlrain raced ahead. It was a mile or more before the ranger stopped and she and Toby, skirting a patch of birches nearly passed him by in the darkness. He had stooped low waiting for another flash of light by which to read the signs before him. The paths she learned had diverged, Naiore’s heading south, but Benia and Barrold’s striking a more easterly course, down toward the Anduin. Fear gripped Gilly as the ranger stood up and looked down over the plains, hesitating which direction to take. She simply could not stay with Dúlrain and Toby if they choose to follow Naiore! She would follow Miss Benia alone if it came to that. They both knew that she had not come all this way to chase after rogue elves! She had a more important matter to tend to. But deep inside her bravado, she was frantic with worry. Worry that she would inded have to gone on her own, unaided.

[Nerindel]

Dúlrain

As Dúlrain looked out over the plains he hesitated confronted with this dilemma. His charge had been to aid Amandur in the capture of the elf Naiore Dannon, who’s countless crimes towards the free peoples of middle earth were too numerous and horrific to recount. The burning need to avenge his brother also burned strong within his soul, but he just could not leave Benia in the hands of that unscrupulous villain Barrold…. Where are the others? He wondered, turning to look back in the direction they had just come. He had hoped that Amandur and the others, if there were any others would have caught up to them by now. But there had been no sign of them and concern had been growing in his mind that they had not survived Naiore’s orc ambush in the mountains. Another flash of lightening streaked the sky illumining for a few minutes the darkness surrounding them. It was then he saw it, a dark shadow in the distance…a figure bent studying the ground before it.

“Get out of sight!” he quickly whispered to the others as he pressed himself against one of the smooth barked birches, Lightening again gave him enough light to get a better look at the stranger reading their trail. Tall and slender like a reed the figure moved gracefully towards them, shrouded from head to toe in a dark cloak that seem to change with the shadows and reflections of the pale moonlight making keeping track of their uninvited companion's movements almost impossible. In fact if not for the lightening he may have never have known anyone was there at all until it was too late. He waited his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of the sword by his waist, but just a few feet from were he was hiding the figure suddenly stopped and was looking straight in his direction almost as though the tree blocking it's view was not there at all. His hand tightened about the hilt as he suddenly grew concerned that he had just lead Gilly and Toby into a cleverly orchestrated trap. Quickly sliding the blade free from its scabbard he stepped out from the tree to face the dark figure that stalked them.

The figure remained still and said nothing as the ranger demanded his name and the reason why he followed them. Slowly the stranger rose two pale long fingered hands to show that they held no weapons. However the bow slung across the figures back and the bulge to his left side showed that he was no stranger to weapons so Dúlrain held to caution and kept his weapon raised as the stranger brought his hands up to the dark hood that concealed his face. Watching him throw the hood back Dúlrain was suddenly surprised to see a cascade of long dark hair fall down about the strangers shoulders and the familiar smile of a friend greeted him.

“Miz Léspheria!” He heard Gilly gasped as she suddenly appeared from her hiding place with Toby not too far behind her. The elf’s smile broadened as she nodded in greeting to the surprised hobbit. “And happy I am to see that you are all alive and well, We lost your trail sometime ago and feared that you had confronted Naiore alone,” she admitted turning again to face Dúlrain. The ranger shook his head, “No we too have been unable to catch up to the Revennor and now I am faced with a difficult decision, one which your arrival has now decided for me, though I have to admit that it would have likely have been the same regardless! But first tell me where are the others, surely you are not alone?”

“No, the others are camped someway off behind us,” she indicated pointed back the way she had come. “Amandur, the bard Menecin, Vanwe and Avanill make up our company, I picked up your trail on my patrol,” she paused for a moment lost in her own thoughts, “Naiore has acquired a horse and cut loose both her prisoner and her hired thug,” she mused as she read between the lines and put together the clues she had found. Dúlrain nodded indicating that she was correct in her assumption.

“She makes all speed south, while Barrold with Benia heads east!”He explained pointing out their watery trails.

“I see,” Léspheria nodded sympathetically, sensing and understanding the rangers need to abandon his charge and strike east to rescue the southern woman.

“Tell Amandur that I am sor…” he began but Léspheria cut him short placing an understanding hand on his shoulder.

“Do not worry Amandur will understand, you must do what your heart tells you is right!” she smiled reassuringly,

“Besides you are without the means to keep up with Naiore never mind catch her, We on the other hand are not. I will return at once and inform the others of what we have found and we will ride out at once to give chase, she cannot elude us forever.”

Dúlrain nodded his thanks and understanding, then after pressing a small glass phial into Gilly's hands with a few whispered instructions, Lespheria said her goodbyes, wished them luck and left to return and wake her companions. While Dúlrain and the two hobbits struck east hot on the heels of Barrold Ferny fully intent on freeing Benia from his villainous grasp!

[Ealasaide]

Benia

With Barrold Ferny encouraging her to keep up the pace with the occasional shove from behind, Benia continued walking eastward through the wee hours of the morning toward dawn. Unbeknownst to her captor, however, and concealed within the folds of her cloak, her hands worked steadily at loosening the rope that bound her wrists in front of her. The rope, being of lesser quality, had stretched upon being soaked by the rainwater and now slid freely around her slender wrists. The knots had already begun to give way under her persistent fingertips. It would be only a matter of minutes before she could work her hands free, she thought, as the first hint of daylight touched the eastern sky. Maybe she could find a way to slip away from Ferny as they forded the river, whose powerful waters she could see already, sparkling in the misty distance.

Focusing her attention on reaching the distant river, Benia was surprised when Barrold Ferny suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her off of the path into the shelter of a small grove of trees. "Time to rest a bit, sweet’eart," was all he offered by way of explanation, so she followed him willingly to a small and grassy clearing at the heart of the grove. Her legs and feet ached from the forced march over the mountains. She had hardly eaten or slept since being seized by Naiore in the forest outside of Rivendell and longed for both food and rest, yet she did not trust Ferny. Benia remained standing, her cloak held closely around her shoulders by hands that were now barely bound. She watched as Ferny took off first his pack and then his sword belt, laying them down at the edge of the grove.
Then, as he turned toward her with an oily smile, Benia realized that sleep was not at all what Ferny had had in mind. She fell back a pace as he moved swiftly across the clearing toward her. With one sharp motion, Ferny ripped the cloak from her shoulders and pushed Benia’s back roughly against the trunk of a nearby tree. One of his hands closed around her throat while the other caught her around her waist.

"Now," said Ferny, pinning her against the tree trunk with his full weight. "Let’s see ’ow friendly you are, lovey-dovey..."

Nearly overcome with his stench of body odor and dried blood, Benia tried to twist away from him, clamping her lips shut against the foul kiss that he planted squarely on her mouth. Chuckling at her attempts to fight him, Ferny tightened his grip around her throat, effectively cutting off her air. Benia squeezed her eyes shut and let her instincts take over. Without thinking, she drove her knee upward as hard as she could.

"Ungh!" said Ferny, doubling over in pain as he fell backward from the blow. As he involuntarily released his grip on her throat, Benia seized the few seconds that opportunity had offered and twisted away from her captor. She tore her wrists from what was left of her bindings, gathered her skirts into her arms, and fled. Ferny threw out a hand as she passed in the hope of catching her braid or perhaps a handful of skirt, but missed. A stream of invective followed her as Benia bolted out of the trees and ran like a gazelle back toward the west and the Misty Mountains, her hope being that if anyone from Rivendell had picked up her trail, they would not be too far behind and might be able to help her. Within seconds, she heard the heavy pounding of Barrold Ferny’s feet as he raced to catch up with her.

Still gasping for breath from her near strangulation back in the grove, Benia ran as fast and hard as she could but the days of forced marching with very little food or sleep had taken its toll. She stumbled, and it was all Ferny needed to close the gap between them. Benia struck the ground hard as Ferny caught her in a flying tackle. Before she knew what was happening, he had flipped her over on to her back and planted his full weight upon her chest, his knees pinning her arms to the ground. His left hand closed again around her throat as his right struck her a forceful blow.

Benia grayed out, but even through her foggy consciousness, she could hear him speaking to her.

"Listen to me, you evil wench," spat Ferny. "I am yer lord and master. Naiore gave you to me. I decide what you do, 'ow you act, and, in the end, whether you live or die. If I decide yer gonna be friendly, then yer gonna be friendly. You get that? Now..." he leaned forward, his hot breath brushing her cheeks. "Who’s yer master?"

Swimming vaguely back toward full consciousness, Benia tried to shake her head. "No..." she murmured. Her amber eyes looked desperately past Ferny toward the distant mountains in the west. Was there no one to help her? "Help me..." she gasped, as her gaze struck on what looked to be three small shadows racing toward them across the open grassland.

"No. Wrong," answered Ferny. As Ferny sat back and raised his hand to strike her again, the distant shadows began to take shape in her eyes... a man and two... children? Hobbits? A flash of hope lit in Benia’s heart. Oh, please let them be real!

"Who’s yer master?" asked Ferny, his hand beginning its descent toward her face.

Before his blow could fall, Benia summoned all of her strength and threw herself sideways under Ferny’s weight in the attempt to dislodge him. His fist missed its mark and, although the larger, stronger man ultimately over-powered her again, for a few brief seconds, she succeeded in freeing her throat from his grip. In those few seconds, Benia found her voice.

"HELP ME!" she screamed toward the mysterious figures approaching from the west. help me...

[Nerindel]

Dulrain

Although Dulrain was relieved that Benia was no longer in the hands of the Revennor of Mordor he knew that she was not in any less danger. Barrold was a villain know for both his violent behaviour and his womanising and Toby was quick to point out both usually came hand in hand much to the horror of Miss Banks. “If he so much as lay’s a hand on her….so help me I will…”Gilly fumed angrily. The same thoughts passed though the rangers mind as he pushed the hobbits on through the predawn mist the trail was growing fresher with each minute.

“They can’t be to far ahead now!” Toby whispered as Dulrain again stooped to examine the muddy prints.

“No not far we should be able to see them soon!” He answered looking up at the hobbit.

“Look there!” Gilly whispered pointing straight ahead, her eyes straining to make out the shape of the shadows ahead.

“There coming this way!” Toby gasped, drawing forth the jewel hilted sword that Miss banks had given him back in Rivendell. But Dulrain had remained still his eyes also straining to make the figures running…. Suddenly without warning he leaped up and raced forward as he realised that the first figure was defiantly being chased by the latter.

“Benia!” he heard Gilly gasp as the figure trying to escape their pursuer stumbled and was brought crashing hard onto the ground. Dulrain’s anger grew as the domineering figure that he now could see was Barrold Ferny held Benia pinned to the ground. Both Toby and Gilly flinched as the brute struck Benia a right handed blow across her face but Dulrain did not it only fuelled him more and he now sprinted towards Benia his sword in his hands.

“I’m coming!” he whispered through grated teeth as Barrold again overpowered her pinning her to the ground, but even as he rose his hand to strike her another blow Dulrain dived at him knocking him hard to the ground.

As the stunned villain struggled to rise Dulrain chanced a glance at Benia to check that she was alright, “Look out!” she hoarsely whispered her eyes wide with fear, Dulrain turned just in time to see Barrold arms raised ready to strike him with a thick branch he must have found in the long grass. Quickly he side stepped avoiding the blow and as the branch hit the ground shattering in half he moved to kick Barrold under the ribs. However seeing him move Barrold guessed his intent and swung the remainder of the branch upwards and round catching the ranger hard across the ribs. Dulrain grunted and stumbled back a few paces as the pain shot across his side, catching his breath he heard the shouts of Mrs Banks.

“Stay away from her you brute… I’m warning you!” she yelled, unsteadily waving Benia’s heavy sword at the approaching villain. “Get outta ma way!” Barrold snarled easily side stepping the hobbits unbalanced stroke, striking her hard across the face with the back of his hand as she struggled again to raise the heavy weapon knocking her to the ground. But before Dulrain could get to them Barrold had dragged Benia up by her hair and now stood behind her using her as a shield, his face pressed closely to her left cheek.

“Did ye miss me sweet ‘art” he whispered licking the side of her cheek as he watched the ranger advance.

Dúlrain face was red with anger as he rush toward the disgusting brute, but he stopped short as he caught the flash of metal under Benia’s chin.

“That’s it boyo‘, don’t yer be thinking o’ coming any closer. The lady’s mine see, so you’ll just be puttin’ down yer weapons if you don’t wanna see ’er hurt.” Barrold grinned menacingly, pulling Benia tighter to him. “You too Missy!” he hissed at Gilly tightening the blade to Benia’s throat, so that a small trickle of dark red blood ran down the blade.

“No Don’t !” Gilly pleaded throwing the cumbersome weapon to the ground, “Come on now boy’o!” Barrold warned turning back to the ranger, Dulrain hesitated for a moment as he stared towards Benia. Then as tears streamed down her olive cheeks he slowly set down his sword. “And the rest Barrold barked!” Dulrain had no choice but to do as he said so he slowly unfastened his belt and let it drop to the ground.

“Now where it the little rat!” Barrold spat looking all about him. In all the commotion Dulrain had completely forgot about Toby , he glanced at Gilly but she only shrugged indicating that she did not know where the hobbit had gone to.

“Come on now where is he!” Barrold bark impatiently, “I know ’e was with you!” It was then that Dulrain noticed the grass moving not far from where Barrold stood. “I don’t know, He probably ran off somewhere,” he quickly answer at Barrold was about to turn in the direction of the shifting grass. “Yes, the stinking coward that he is!” Gilly quickly added also seeing the unnatural sway in the long grass and realising what Dúlrain was doing.

“Heh never trust a thief Ranger they only think o’ themselves!” Barrold laughed mockingly, but as he laughed Dulrain widened his eyes then looked down Indicating to Benia to be ready, she blinked her amber eyes once to indicate that she understood. “Your sword!” Gilly whispered out of the side of her mouth. Dulrian looked down and shook his head he could never get to it in time. “Not that one, in your pack!” she whispered. It was then that he remembered seeing it in his pack, Gilly must have lifted it in the glade, he had meant to loss it again in the cave but had not had the time and was now glad that he had not for it was now going to come in handy.

“Hey! What yer up too!” Barrold snapped as Dulrain slowly raised his right hand over his head. “We’re going to catch you eventually Ferny!” Dulrain said calmly “So you might as well give up and let her go!” Gilly added “And we will settle this little matter here and now, you and me man to man!”

“Not Bloody likely!” Barrold spat taking a step back, “I’ll do it, I’ll kill ’er if I have too!” Barrold warned again. Too late he heard something behind him but before he could turn round Toby had sunk the jewelled companion sword into the back of the villains left thigh.

With a scream of pain Barrold loosened his grip on Benia who instantly pulled away from him into Dulrain’s strong arms, he gently squeezed her and kissed her forehead before passing her into the care of her hobbit friend while he went to the aid of a brave Mr Longholes.

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

Toby

Enraged that his prize had gotten away Barrold turned on Toby “Why you snivelling ungrateful little rat!” he grunted pulling the blade from his leg and advancing on the unarmed halfling, his left leg dragging a little as blood poured from the wound. “I gave yer friendship when no-one else would and this is ‘ow yer repay me!”

“Pfft Friendship is that what you call it!” Toby scoffed stepping back a few paces, “ I was useful to you that’s all, you have no idea what true friendship is and to be honest neither did I until recently” and as he spoke his gaze drifted passed Barrold to the hobbit woman and her friend to make sure they were alright. This momentary lapse was all that Barrold needed, with a fisted right hand he punched Toby across the jaw. Warm blood filled his mouth as he fell to the ground and several of his teeth had been knocked loose.

“Bwhahahaha yer right yer were useful to me !” Ferny laughed over him as he tried to scramble away on his hands and knees, determined to draw the villain away from the two women. “And now I ‘ave no use fer a treacherous back stabbing little worm! ” he spat raising the jewelled blade as Toby looked back. He tried to roll out of the path of the oncoming blade, but yelled out as the blade sunk deep into his left shoulder pinning him helplessly to the ground. “Toby!” He heard a woman’s voice scream as the world around him turned suddenly hazy , blinking hard he could still make out the dark outline of Ferny looming over him, but even as the pain overcame him and he slipped into unconsciousness another shadow Broad sided the villain sending him stumbling sideways.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

Fear gripped Gilly as she saw the fury with which Barrold drove the point of the companion sword down among the grass. “Toby!” she screamed, flying from Benia’s side without any clear idea of what help she might expect to offer. And seeing the festering contempt that distorted Ferny’s face she stopped short. She had no weapon against this man, this wounded animal, not even her pocketknife to wield. It would be foolish. Looking quickly around, searching the ground for the sword she had cast aside, she snatched it hurriedly from where it lay in the wet grass, stumbling as the weight of it dragged behind her.

Toby’s initial cry had waxed into haunting silence, and Gilly squinted hard in the pale morning light, hopeful of seeing any movement at all among the grass. She thought that just maybe she saw his foot move, and scrabbled to her feet, still determined to drive Barrold away from his deadly retaliation. Hearing a muffled thud followed by a groan, Gilly looked up to find that Dúlrain had taken advantage of Barrold’s momentary inattention, charging the brute that continued to hurl abuse as he kicked the small crumpled form at his feet. The ranger drove his shoulder into Ferny’s left side, succeeding in pushing him further away from where the wounded hobbit lay, and engaged him once more to slowly draw him further off.

Dropping the sword, Gilly ran back toward where Benia stood anxiously watching the struggling men. Her friend took a few steps toward them; golden eyes wide with fear and pain as Ferny continued to lunge at Dúlrain in rapid succession. Grabbing Benia’s hand, Gilly tried to pull her away. “Come quick, Miss Benia, I need your help. We’ve got to move Toby, before he has another shot at him. We’ve got to hide him.” The hobbit did not say it, but she had a mind to hide Benia as well. She did not want that monster ever to lay eyes on her friend again let alone use her as a weapon against Dúlrain. But Benia resisted the hobbit’s coaxing, as if she hasn’t heard.

Setting her teeth so that her lips were transformed into a hard thin line, the hobbit pulled with all her might until Benia looked at her exasperated. “Two minutes!” Gilly snapped. “Give me two minutes, and quick before Dúlrain tires and really does need help! Where has all your good sense gone, now that you need it?” A furrow appeared in the southern woman’s brow as she looked from the hobbit to Dúlrain. “Come, be quick!” Gilly urged, pulling the woman along. Heading for Benia’s sword, Gilly stopped to reach down and unwinding the grass that clung to it, she pressed the hilt into Benia’s tattooed hand and closed the ornately decorated fingers around it. “We might need this,” she said, before continuing to lead her to Toby.

The fallen hobbit lay awkward and still in the grass, his shoulder soaked bright red. Gilly’s relief was tremendous as she saw the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and letting Benia’s hand drop she ran to his side. He was still alive! But he was still bleeding and that was worrisome. Tearing her petticoat, Gilly quickly pressed a wad of the material against the wound and tore another length to wrap it tight. “Help me move him,” she said looking up to Benia. “Maybe behind the bushes,” she suggested.

Benia handed her father’s sword back to the hobbit, and lifted Toby in her arms. “Not behind the bushes, Gilly,” the southern woman said. “It is the first place he would look. But I remember that the land dips down over this way. Toby would be well hidden there.”

“Good enough,” Gilly said. “But hurry before the lout notices where we are taking him.”

A stone throw away from where they stood the land rippled deeply, the fold nearly invisible among the wide expanse of grass. As Benia gently lowered Toby down in the valley it formed, they both saw that he was bleeding from his mouth as well. “Oh Miss Benia, he is hurt somewhere else. Inside, I think!” Gilly said.

Benia knelt down beside the hobbit looking closely at his face. Opening his mouth, she gave Gilly a small smile. “It is only his teeth,” she said. But the blood had already begun to seep through his bandaged shoulder, and she sighed, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder above the bandage. “I wish that we had the elves’ help for this wound.”

Gilly brightened a little. “Ah but we do! Lady Léspheria had given me these,” Gilly said pulling out two phials from her pocket and holding them in the palm of her hand for Benia to see. “She said that one helps heal injury and one causes immediate sleep, but I can’t recall which is which.” The hobbit paused, bringing the phials close to her eyes to study them. “I think this bluish one is the one for sleep. I’m nearly sure it is. We don’t need that now, do we?”

An indulgent smile flickered across Benia’s face. And she looked back toward were the sound of the men fighting could still be heard. “It’s been a while now. Perhaps Dúlrain is tired,” Gilly said. “Don’t worry, Miss Benia, I will use this other medicine on Toby. But if you decide to return to the fighting, take this also as well as your sword.“ The hobbit handed Benia the blue phial. “To use on Ferny if you have half a chance!” she said with a wink. But in the depths of her heart she feared that her friend needed to have some defense incase things where to go terribly wrong, and was glad when Benia took the slender phial to examine it.

[piosenniel]

Dulrain

As Barrold struggled to regained his footing with a muttering of curses Dulrain levelled his sword and advanced on the villain, the sharp edge of the Arthedain blade glinting in the soft morning light revealing the dried dark blood that marred it’s sides. But Dúlrain was passed his guilt and self pity, the man before him disgusted him and was one of the reasons he and Kaldir had followed their father’s footsteps and become rangers. Men Like Barrold Ferny prayed on the weak and the venerable and would do anything for a price they had no respect for anyone or anything! He blocked as Barrold came at him fast with thrust after thrust with the jewelled weapon trying to find an opening that the ranger would not give him. Barrold’s approach was fast and aggressive, almost desperate at times but with the heavier weapon Dulrain knew that he would tire first. However his years of experience had taught him many things and these skills would be his ally in this battle. Remembering a distant memory and hearing the voice of a skilled and youthful Kaldir in his mind, counselling and urging him to remember that patience and caution were also a rangers best weapons, he finally held to his old friend and brothers advice and continued to defend letting his opponent believe that he was in control while studying the foot work and swordsmanship of his enemy.

“Is she worth dying for boy ‘o ?” Barrold taunted trying to rile him.

“A popular little fing ain’t she, already one man ‘as died for ‘er… he is dead isn’t ‘e!” Barrold continued to taunt with a toothy grin, that positively repulsed Dúlrain.

“Saved!” He corrected flatly not allowing Barrold’s words to distract him.

“Ah I see!” Barrold grinned smugly. “ So ‘er hero is also the bounty hunters killer ‘ow ironic!” the villain’s laugher so mocking and condescending causing a flash of anger to crossed the rangers face. But seeing the satisfied light in Barrold’s eyes Dúlrain bit back, swallowing hard to oppress the anger that tempted him to forget reason and lunge at the villain, squeezing the very life from him with his bare hands, if he had been alone he just might have taken the risk, but he was not and remembering this he let Barrold’s word pass and concentrated instead on finding some weakness in the villains attack a weakness that he could use to his own advantage.

As he continued to defend Barrold inevitably grew bolder not only in his attack but in his taunts also “she tastes sooo good, you know we could share her!” he grinned oily as the two blades locked at the hilt and he pressed forwards attempting to drive the ranger back. But Dúlrain let Barrold think that his foul breath had had more effect than his actual words. “You know you really should do something about that smell!” He coughed as he pushed Barrold back and pulled away to catch his breath. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t need to force yourself upon women.” he sneered with a look of sheer disgust. With an enraged growl Barrold charged at him again, but this time Dulrain did not defend he had seen how the villainous blaggaurd held his weapon a little to high so as Barrold charged the ranger quickly pivoted left, dropping to one knee then swinging the sharp edged blade towards the charging villains undefended gut. There was little Barrold could do as his own momentum helped carried him onto the rangers blade. Barrold’s dark eyes stared at him with complete shock and disbelief as the ranger pulled the deeply embedded blade from his enemies gut letting him crumple lifeless to the cold ground, his blood and guts spilling out staining the swaying grasses of the open plain.

Lowering his weapon and using it as support Dúlrain breathed heavily his head resting on the pommel of the sword. The finally blow had come not without it’s price the force and strength needed had taken it’s toll on the rangers wounded side and a sharp pain now ripped across his side, the healers had warned him that although the wound was healed the surrounding tissue and muscles would still be weak and now he knew this to be true.

Hearing the soft shuffle of booted feet he slowly looked up. Benia stood only feet from him concern etched on her beautiful southern brow, despite his pain Dúlrain managed a reassuring smile then with an effort he slowly rose to his feet. He felt the tenderness of her touch as she rushed to help him and he stared lovingly at her as she searched him for some injury.

“I am well, but what about you?” he whispered gently cupping her face with his free hand and frowning as his touch on the bluish bruising to her cheek caused her to wince.

[Ealasaide]

Benia

Benia gave the phial a long look, then handed it back to Gilly. "To sleep, perchance to dream," she said softly. "But, I wonder, would it be a sleep of death?" She paused to close Gilly's fingers around Léspheria's phial, remembering the thoughts she had once harbored regarding the use of poison on Ferny. No, she would not resort to poison, not even on herself should things come to such a point.

Gilly took the phial, all the while trying to read the expression in Benia’s eyes. "It is but a sleeping potion," she assured Benia. "In fact, I’m sure of it. Miss Léspheria is not the sort to be trafficking in poisons. You know that."

Distracted by the clash of swords just out of their sight, Benia nodded, looking in the direction from whence the sounds echoed. "Yes, you are right," she admitted. "Of course, you are right. But it was given to you. Please keep it to use as you see fit. Perhaps, poor Toby may have need of it."

Seeing Benia’s attention so divided, Gilly nodded and tucked the phial away into her pocket. "Yes, he may at that."

"In the meantime," Benia added, looking down at the grievously wounded hobbit, her gaze lingering over the blood-soaked bandage on his shoulder. "He is deathly pale. Perhaps we should give him a draught from the other phial. Here, I will lift him up." Benia crouched and gently lifted Toby’s head and shoulders that Gilly might administer the elven healing potion.

"How much should I give him?" asked Gilly with uncertainty.

"I don’t know," answered Benia, with a slight shake of her dark head. "Perhaps only a few drops at first? While I have very little experience with elven potions, I understand that they can be quite strong."

"Perhaps a teaspoonful to start," said Gilly, bending over the barely conscious hobbit. She uncorked the dainty phial and poured as close to a teaspoonful of medicine as she could figure between Toby’s waxen lips. Almost instantly, the color began to seep back into his face. His breathing grew less labored. Benia sighed with relief and lowered him back down upon the grass, glancing again in the direction of Dúlrain and the fighting. Gilly held out Jack Nightshade’s sword, its hilt toward Benia.

"Go," the hobbit lady told Benia rather firmly. "I will take care of Toby now."

"Thank you," said Benia quietly. She took the sword firmly in her right hand. With her left, she squeezed Gilly’s shoulder. "I shall be right back. We shall be right back, Dúlrain and I." She gave Gilly a final, resolute smile and ran out of the sheltering hollow. Immediately, she caught sight of the two men locked in battle.

"No!" she cried as Ferny raised his weapon and charged a flagging Dúlrain. She quickened her pace, believing that she must get there before Ferny’s blow fell, but in her heart she knew the distance was too much. She could never get there in time to help the ranger. As she watched, Dúlrain suddenly made a graceful pivot to his left and threw out his sword. Ferny’s own momentum carried him on to the blade. Benia flinched as Naiore’s odious henchman crumpled over in death, his blood painting the pale green of the meadow grass a deep crimson. She arrived at Dúlrain’s side just as the ranger sank to his knees in exhaustion, resting his forehead on the pommel of his sword. She hesitated, making a soft noise in her throat.

Hearing the whisper of her skirts amongst the now silent grasses, Dúlrain slowly looked up. Seeing Benia, he smiled despite his pain and pushed himself to his feet. She dropped her father’s sword and went to him, helping him to rise. At the same time, she tried to search him for any sign of injury or new wounds. Finding nothing, she threw her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. The intensity of her relief left her temporarily mute. He was safe.

"I am well, but what about you?" he whispered, pulling back from her slightly to cup her face with his free hand. He frowned as his touch on the darkening bruise to her cheek caused her to wince.

"You are safe," murmured Benia, the only words she could find. "Oh, thank eru, you are safe."

Dúlrain smiled gently. "Yes, I am more or less in one piece, but I must know - did this villain harm you? I see he has struck you, but has he hurt you in any other way?"

Benia shook her head. "No, no, I am fine." She leaned her cheek once again into his chest, comforted by the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "He hit me a few times here and there, but otherwise has done me no damage."

Dropping his sword, Dúlrain closed his arms around Benia, holding her closely, but Benia could tell that his gray eyes looked beyond her, searching the distant trees.

"Thank eru," he said at last. "You, too, are safe. And Mrs. Banks? Toby?"

Benia sighed and released him from her embrace. She bent down and picked up the swords they had both dropped, handing him his. "Gilly is fine," she answered gravely. "But Toby is in a bad way. Gilly is doing what she can for him."

Benia waited as Dúlrain sheathed his sword and collected the jeweled companion sword from where Ferny lay. Then, she took his hand and began to lead him back in the direction of Gilly’s and Toby’s hiding place, still somewhat at a loss for words. So many thoughts and emotions swirled through her mind that she found herself unable to express anything verbally. Instead, she curled her fingers tightly through Dúlrain’s and rejoiced quietly at the return pressure of his touch. Leading him back toward where Gilly and Toby waited, Benia found there was one thing that she did need to talk about. Stopping abruptly, she turned toward Dúlrain and looked searchingly into his eyes.

"Is it true what Ferny said?" she asked. "Is Kaldir really dead?"

Dúlrain’s expression darkened visibly. He nodded. "Yes, it is true. He lies back in Imladris."

"How did he go?"

A pained look overtook the ranger’s handsome features, but no answer came.

Benia reached out and touched his face. She needed no further explanation, although a single question remained. "Is he at peace?"

Dúlrain nodded. "He is. Or he will be when his death has been avenged." A cold fire flashed through his eyes that reminded Benia too much of the hatred that had always risen in Kaldir’s blue eyes at the mention of Naiore Dannan. She shuddered, feeling the blood drain from her face.

"No, Dúlrain," she said desperately. "He must not be avenged. Please let the bloodshed stop here. That elf is poison. She nearly destroyed Kaldir with hatred. Please do not let her do the same to you. Leave her to Amandur and the others. I couldn’t bear it if she destroyed you as well."

Dúlrain’s jaw set stubbornly and, for a moment, he said nothing. When he finally spoke, there was an edge to his voice that Benia had never heard before. "I agree, Naiore Dannan is poison," he said. "But she was the ruin of my brother. His death must not go unanswered. I owe that much to him. If it is the last thing I do, I shall avenge his death."

Despairing, Benia sank to her knees. Putting her sword aside, she grasped both of Dúlrain’s hands in hers. "I beg you," she pleaded. "I beg you, don’t do this. I can see that evil creature has begun to poison your heart already with hatred. Please don’t let the poison take root."

Saying nothing, Dúlrain gazed down at her with a troubled expression. Benia could see the muscles tense along his jaw line.

"Please let it go," continued Benia. She placed her forehead against the back of his hand. "Kaldir gave his life to protect me. If you were to die as well, I could never forgive myself. How could I go on, knowing that my hands were colored not just with the markings of my heritage, but with the blood of not one, but two good men? I should die as well." She paused. "I believe that he would rather you walked away."

"How can you say that?" asked Dúlrain, his voice harsh with emotion. "How can you presume to know what was in Kaldir’s heart?"

Benia raised her face again, looking once more into Dúlrain’s eyes. "Did he ask you to avenge him?"

Slowly, the ranger shook his head. "No. His final thoughts were for you. He said that his death was a release."

"Then, I believe he was finished with vengeance. Did you know that he stood within range of striking Naiore down himself, but instead dropped his sword? If he had been wiling to sacrifice my life, he would have had his revenge." Benia released Dúlrain’s hands and dropped her eyes. The memory of those moments back in the enemy camp above Rivendell tore at her painfully. Sitting back on her heels, she hugged her elbows. "It is a debt I can never repay," she added softly. "But I hope to honor him by embracing life in his name. Not death. Please tell me that you can do the same. Please let the bloodshed stop here."

Emotionally drained, Benia waited quietly for Dúlrain’s response.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Gilly

Gilly sat back gazing at Toby, wondering if she should give him another draught from Léspheria’s phial. The poor soul did look a good deal better than he had just a short while ago, but how Gilly wished that his eyes would open again, and he would speak. It was such a brave thing that he had done to free Benia from that horrid man’s grip. Quite frankly, she had not expected him to take the risk. And though she was glad of his courage, she found herself quite anxious that he should be none the worse for it.

Thinking now that it was quite possible that a teaspoon might not have been a large enough dose, but still reluctant to give more lest it be too much, she racked her brain for anything else she could do. Perhaps a dab of the medicine on the wound itself would help speed the healing. Surely there wouldn’t be any harm in it. Moving closer Gilly gingerly unwound the bandages that she had applied just a few moments before. The bleeding had slowed considerably, but still the gash glistened with fresh blood. She nervously fumbled with the phial unstopping it, and after pouring a liberal amount of the elixir on the bandage; she set down the medicine and replaced the cloth, pressing it firmly over the wound.

The effect was immediate. Toby’s face quickly contracted into a grimace, as his other arm swung around catching Gilly rather tightly. “Eh there now!” he said, struggling to open his eyes. “Are you trying to finish me off then?”

“Oh, goodness, not in the least!” she answered. “But this hurt to your shoulder is a nasty one. I was just trying to fix it up.”

“Ah, I remember it only too well. I thought that it was the end of old Longholes! But what has happened?” he said craning his neck to look around. “Where are Dúlrain and Miss Nightshade? Why can’t I see them?” He sounded worried as he tried to sit up.

Gilly, gently aided him, a bit troubled herself. Realizing that the reverberating ring of weapons no longer echoed over the plain, it was too quiet for her to feel settled. “The both of them were up over that bluff a moment ago,” she whispered, frowning as she looked to the top of the hollow. “But I do not know exactly how it is going for them.”

“Then Ferny…” Toby began.

“Dúlrain had him quite occupied when Miss Benia and I brought you down here. But now that I see that you are all right, I really ought to get back. They may need my help.”

“I’ll go with you,” Toby said, holding his limp arm to his chest with the other.

“No, Mister Longholes, I appreciate it, but you should stay here. If that Ferny fellow is up there, it be best he not see your face peaking over the hill,” she cautioned. “I’ll just sneak a look then, and tell you what I find.” Getting to her feet she climbed slowly to the rim as Toby watched. There, standing on her toes, she peered cautiously over the tall grass. As the warm sun broke through the retreating clouds, she was overjoyed to see Dúlrain speaking to Miss Benia, the wind from off the mountains pulling at the couple before finding its way down the gentle slope toward the hobbit. They seemed deep in conversation but Gilly could not hear much of what was said, try though she might. “Ah there’s a pleasant sight, if I do say so myself,” she finally concluded with a sigh.

Hurrying back down to where Toby sat sneezing painfully in the bottom of the hollow, “All’s very well!” she announced with a smile. “Ferny’s not to be seen, or Naiore, or any other stranger for that matter! Let’s get that arm bound and give the shoulder a rest, so that you can see for yourself, if you’d like.” Toby nodded, sniffing.

After she had secured Toby’s arm tightly to his chest, relieving the pressure on his shoulder, she helped him to stand. He swayed a bit, and Gilly began to wonder if it was the medicine or rather sheer will that helped the hobbit stand up after such an ordeal. “Perhaps this isn't the right time to try. You’re a bit giddy yet,” she said gently.

“No, no! I’m alright, and would rather not sit any longer hidden in this dank shadow.” But Gilly seeing him still unsteady, took his free arm and wrapped it around her neck, propping him up.

“Lean on me,” she said. And together they started up the hill. “We will be there in a twinkling, and you can rest again in the sunshine if Dúlrain and Miss Benia will let us dry out a bit,” but in her heart she wondered what they were to do, now that Toby was injured and no longer able to keep pace with the ranger.