Chapter Four

Legolas had been riding swiftly through the forest, though it was his horse that was actually setting the pace. The elf was too deep in thought to care how fast he was traveling. “What is wrong with me?” he asked aloud for the dozenth time, shaking his head, as if he could fling the confusion from his mind.

The archer looked up just in time to duck under a low-hanging branch. Had he not, the resulting contact against his forehead would have likely killed him. He couldn’t remember when he had been so careless. ‘Even elflings know to be more vigilant‘, he chided. This was all getting to be much too unnerving.

The sound of hooves behind him caused him to bring his mount to a sudden stop. His horse’s determination to meet his master’s request causing a straight-legged halt. The move was jarring, but Legolas kept his balance. In an instant he had his bow in his hands and an arrow laying across it with the end of the shaft fitted to the string.

“Legolas!” came a shout in a very familiar voice. “Wait up.”

The prince returned his bow and arrow to their proper places on his back. “Arondo, why have you followed me?” Legolas demanded and then frowned at the sharp tone of his voice. He certainly did not mean to sound as if he was scolding his long-time friend and fellow warrior.

Arondo took a deep breath. He knew he was taking the chance of alienating Legolas with his next words, but it was the main reason he had come to find his friend, so he felt it had to be said. “I know how proud you are, mellon nin, but you must accept help. You have not been yourself lately. Even you have to admit that.”

Legolas’s eyes flashed and then narrowed. “I have to admit nothing of the kind. You think I have become someone weak who needs your aid? What faith you have in me.” The tone was pure sarcasm, and the words were almost a snarl.

Arondo wasn’t sure how to respond. Legolas had never spoken to him like that before, even in the rare heat of an argument. That only further proved that Legolas needed his help.

There was nothing to do but lay it out between them. But first Arondo wanted to sit down as friends, not mounted as potential adversaries. “Come. Let us sit and discuss this.”

He dismounted and looked up at Legolas, who let out a quick breath that sounded showed his irritation. However, after a moment of consideration, the prince also dismounted.

When Arondo sat down beneath the foliage of a large beech tree, Legolas joined him, unsure of why he felt that this was going to be a waste of time. He had no idea what his friend had in mind, but he made up his mind that he would listen to whatever Arondo had to say.

The older elf looked closely at his friend and prince. He knew he would only have a few seconds of such scrutiny before Legolas became upset with him for being stared at.

When Legolas turned his face toward Arondo, the brown-haired elf almost gasped. There was a look in Legolas’s eyes that plainly frightened Arondo. His friend’s normally bright blue-gray eyes were as dark as storm clouds. There was also a look totally foreign to the youngest of Thranduil’s sons.

A chill went through Arondo, but he forged ahead. Now was not the time to become faint of heart. “What has you so upset that you have...behaved so badly toward your friends, Legolas?” There. He had asked the question. Arondo braced himself for the angry tirade he thought might be about to erupt.

To Arondo’s surprise, Legolas lowered his head in shame. “II do not know, Arondo. I feel as if these foul moods just grab hold of me, and I cannot control them. It is as if I am two different people, or perhaps someone else has suddenly inhabited my body and taken over my thinking.” He paused a moment to stare out into the forest. Then he continued. “I am also losing time. I find that I have done things I do not remember doing. Often time has passed that I cannot account for.”

The look on Arondo’s face said it all. He had never heard of such things happening, yet he did not doubt what Legolas said. There was a long silence before Arondo finally said, “It stared around the time of the fight with the orcs. You did not sustain a cut of any kind, did you? One you told no one about?” He knew Legolas’s penchant for not always revealing injuries or wounds he had received.

“No. Not a scratch.” That, at least, was true, and Legolas had to grin in spite of himself.

Arondo was sure for once that Legolas was not being deceptive. “I thought perhaps a small amount of poison on an orc blade had entered your body and might account for what is happening to you.”

“Believe me I have thought of that, as well. I have thought of everything I could, but I have no answers as to why this has befallen me.”

Another even longer silence fell between the two elves. Then both of them felt a change in the trees’ song. The normally serene flow of joy from them had suddenly shifted to one of fear.

“The trees are afraid,” Arondo whispered, looking upward into the greenery that was quivering, though there was no breeze stirring to cause it.

“As well they should be,” came a deep voice that both did and did not sound like Legolas’s.

When Arondo looked at his friend face, he saw the prince’s eyes had changed yet again. Now they were black. No white was visible at all. It was a startling sight. The same fear that had gripped the trees now did the same to Arondo. As he continued to stare at those unblinking black eyes watching him, he became terrified of and for his friend.

Arondo jumped up and began backing away from Legolas. The absurdity of doing so suddenly came to him and almost made him stumble, but it was quickly pushed aside. The golden-haired elf before him had abruptly become someone he knew he should not be close to. Yet this was his friend. The older elf could not just walk away from him. So with a shaky voice that pleaded in a last ditch attempt to help, he said, “We can work this out together, Legolas. Whatever is wrong I will not abandon you.”

“You elves are so arrogant, thinking you can solve anything, if you just put your minds to it. You, who are tucked away in your precious forest, really know so little of the outside world, though you think you are so enlightened. The world has many more hidden and dangerous things lurking in it than you elves can possibly imagine. You are so pathetic, little elf.”

Arondo was dumbstruck. He couldn’t understand what his friend meant. Legolas spoke as if he was not one of the Firstborn but someone else entirely. Yet logic, as well as his own vision, confirmed that the person before him was not only an elf but a member of the royal family that ruled the realm. “Legolas...”

Five minutes later, the Prince of Mirkwood was once again mounted and riding in his original direction, southwest. No one followed him. He was alone and confused. He clearly recalled Arondo arriving to talk to him. They must have spoken, though he remembered no such conversation taking place. How long ago had that been? And where was Arondo now?

Legolas finally shrugged. Perhaps Arondo had returned to the patrol. Yes, that must be it. They had spoken, and then Arondo had ridden back to the western patrol’s camp.

Legolas smiled to think that his good friend had followed him out here to talk to him and to offer his support. Arondo had always been an elf who cared for his friends and wanted to help them in any way he could. That was one of the reasons he was so well liked by the warriors of Mirkwood in general and Legolas in particular. The prince knew just how lucky he was to have a friend like Arondo.

*~*~*~*

Saeragar knew he was getting stronger. Yet every time he had asserted himself, he had been forced, after a while, to relinquish his hold on the elf, whose will was stronger than he had anticipated. Even with the elf not knowing of his existence, it was hard to force his own will on the fair being. That would change soon, he knew.

On the positive side, each time Saeragar took control, he felt his strength increasing. Soon he would be in total control, and this elf would no longer be needed.

*~*~*~*

Begrin, too, sensed the increasing strength of Saeragar. He felt his heart grow even more fearful at the knowledge, though it was not a surprise to him. He knew all too well the power that the evil being possessed. Even he could be overcome, if he didn’t keep his vigil sharp.

He had been headed north to try and intercept Searagar, but the evil being was on the move and had changed directions several times. He stayed in constant psychic contact to keep from losing track of Saeragar. It was a wearying endeavor but an extremely necessary one.

Begrin felt that Saeragar probably had not sensed his probing mental presence as yet, but he knew that sooner or later the evil power would gain enough strength to do so. That is why time was a critical element now.

Begrin was traveling toward where he sensed Saeragar was currently heading, when he saw something that momentarily stopped him in his tracks.

Lying several yards ahead of him, he saw the body of a sorrel-colored horse. He rushed to the animal’s side but found that it was dead. Judging from the wound, it looked as though its heart had been pierced, most probably by an arrow. The deadly bolt had been ripped out and was nowhere to be seen.

Who would have killed a horse like this? Begrin began to search but saw no tracks that indicated anyone other than an elf had been in the area. It made no sense. Elves loved horses, more so than most of the sentient races of Middle-earth.

Then he saw something that froze his blood. He ran over to another body, only this one was not a horse. It was a brown-haired elven warrior. His throat had been cut.

A quick look around told Begrin that this elf had not drawn any of his weapons. Since it was highly unlikely an enemy could have come upon him unaware, the obvious answer was that the body Saeragar had taken over had been someone this elf knew and trusted. In that context, the death he was looking at had been virtually inevitable. It saddened him to think that this elf had probably died not understanding why a friend was killing him.

Begrin thought briefly of going to Thranduil’s palace and warning the king of the danger that existed in his realm. However, Begrin was not willing to abandon his search and lose mental contact with Saeragar, who was too close. Besides Thranduil would surely send out warriors to do battle with the elf that the evil being was inhabiting. That would be the logical reaction, but Saeragar could not be destroyed by a simple frontal attack, even by superior forces, and attempting to do it that way would only result in slaughter to those warriors.

It was left to Begrin to stop Saeragar, just as he had always known it would be. With a sigh he gently carried the elf’s body over to a tree and laid it against the trunk. He lamented not only the elf’s tragic death but also the fact that he had to leave him unattended for the moment. Perhaps he would be able to alert someone of what he had found, if he encountered an elf of the realm other than the one he was searching for.

*~*~*~*

At the same time that Begrin was finding the bodies of Arondo and his horse, a human ranger was entering Mirkwood. He was known to the elves of the forest as the best friend of their youngest prince.

A few did not approve of an elf having any human as a friend. Most, who had given the man a chance, knowing that Legolas would not have developed such a friendship with anyone who was not trustworthy, had been rewarded. Aragorn had proven himself to all, especially when he had fought beside them, and those who did not approve of the friendship, were eventually forced to give him at least a grudging respect.

Several warrior sentries saw the man enter the realm. They did not reveal their positions in the trees, even to him, but simply let him pass unchallenged. He, of course, knew they were there. Aragorn waved his hand over his head in acknowledgment and continued on his way, mot speaking to them.

He had come to Mirkwood for a surprise visit to Legolas. He hadn’t seen the elven prince in over a year and had not corresponded with him in almost two months.

The ranger couldn’t be sure that Legolas would be free to go on a hunting/camping trip with him, but it was worth the effort to find out. Even if Legolas was committed to a patrol assignment, the man would at least be able to see his friend. He had no idea that the royal archer had just crossed the border of Mirkwood south of his position and was heading down toward the Anduin River.

The anticipation of being with Legolas again made the ranger smile. In fact, he laughed to think that he had packed extra medical supplies for the inevitable time one or both of them would be in need of treatment.

It was almost dusk when Aragorn approached the camp of the western border patrol. He was greeted warmly by most of the warriors, who were gathering around the fire to eat their evening meal before those on night watch went out to take up their posts.

Hebrilith, one of the elves who like the human ranger, approached him. The two clasped arms in a warrior’s greeting. “Mae govannen, Aragorn. I have not seen you in much too long.”

“Mae govannen, Hebrilith. It has been a long time.”

During the greeting, one of the younger elves removed the pack and saddle before taking the ranger’s horse off to be taken care of. Pack and saddle were set near a tree several yards from the campfire.

“I guess I do not have to ask what has brought you here.” A smile on the ranger’s face was all the answer he needed. “Legolas is not here.”

The man frowned and looked at Hebrilith. “Has he gone to another patrol or did he go home?”

Hebrilith was shaking his head. “Legolas is with us for the time being but...” He didn’t think the prince had any secrets from this man, but he was still hesitant to reveal what had been going on with Legolas.

It didn’t take more than a second for Aragorn to realize that something was wrong. “Tell me, Hebrilith. Has something happened to Legolas? Has he been hurt and sent home to heal?” He refused to even entertain the idea that something worse could have happened to his friend.

The concern on the ranger’s face, wiped away all of Hebirlith’s doubts. If Arondo had not been able to help Legolas, perhaps adding Aragorn to the mix would be much more beneficial to the young prince.

With a sigh, Hebrilith began to tell Aragorn about the things that had been happening: the orcs, Legolas’s strange behavior and the mood swings he had been experiencing since joining the patrol.

Aragorn listened, becoming more and more worried the more Hebrilith said. Elves didn’t get sick the way mortals did, so if he hadn’t been wounded or injured in some other way, he could think of nothing that might account for his friend’s odd behavior. His mind was eased a bit, when Hebrilith mentioned that Arondo had gone after Legolas.

“If any elf can get through to Legolas, I believe Arondo can,” the elven captain stated.

Aragorn nodded. “I believe I can help him, too.”

“I agree. I do not like to say this, but I fear that Legolas will need a great deal of help, and I do not have the faintest idea why I think that.” Hebrilith was too concerned to be bothered with the notion that it was hard to admit the normally strong-willed warrior prince was in such a vulnerable position.

Aragorn’s stomach was warring with his emotions. His stomach finally won out, and he ate the evening meal with the warriors of the western patrol. He needed to keep his strength up.

In contrast to his appetite, he did not sleep well that night. The few times he drifted off, all he did was dream about Legolas being in mortal danger. Most of the time he just lay awake, fretting for the archer’s well-being.

Morning was not coming soon enough to suit the ranger. He was anxious to be off in search of Legolas and Arondo. After what Hebrilith had said, he was sure he would be needed.

TBC