A/N: At last the hunt begins

The Hunting Trip

Chapter Seven: Encounters in the Wood

The buck raised its head to the sound of a snapping twig. All but its ears froze as they twitched and flicked, pivoting in their radius to find the source of the noise. It froze in its stance like this, almost becoming invisible in its pausing gesture. And then dismissing the sound as no evidence of further movement could be found, the graceful creature bowed its head again to mix its form into the long grass of the meadow about it. White moths flitted about the grasses adding to the masquerade of the deer's hidden place as it grazed.

The hunter waited patiently, kneeling in the brush at the edge of the forest, his bow made ready with a notched arrow resting against the riser. His partner at his side looked equally as poised. They quietly sat in anticipation as the great buck drew slowly closer. Unsuspecting, the handsome animal did not see their forms, camouflaged within the darker shadows of the wood.

The forest about them was lush and unspoiled. A smattering of oxalis and ferns littered the forest floor near them, standing out in harsh contrast to the rusty red carpet of pine needles. Mosses and trilium crept along the bases of the thick pines, their colors almost iridescent in the cool shade of the trees. Round burls sprouted from the trunks of the larger conifers with shoots of small saplings rising from the mounds. Mighty roots crisscrossed the ground in complex patterns as downed branches created blockades along the varied terrain of the deer trails. Streams of light filtered through the branches on the immensely high ceiling, and a mist of light fog descended away into the limbs like the steam off a teacup. The echo of bird calls and insect stirrings rattled within the cavernous walls of the forest space, and every noise seemed amplified by the density of the overhead bramble.

The buck's head once again shot up, glancing in the direction of the two hunters. Its ears twitched again wildly as its body stood taut while its nose sniffed the air. And then purposefully, the animal turned away from the clearing, leading its body in the direction opposite of the men. The antlers crowning its magnificent head meshed quickly into the surroundings, and in an instant, the creature was gone from all sight.

The two men stood up as their quarry fled, grimacing at the loss of a prize so handsome. Four points on each rack this one stood. It was not the buck they had sought out, but it was still a nice consolation prize if their efforts didn't pay off on this trip. But now, to their chagrin, even the consolation prize had disappeared.

In the pathways behind them they heard voices and quick heavy steps approaching. To their human senses the noise only now reached their ears, though the buck had heard their sound much sooner, and was hearkened away by it.

Aragorn turned to face the disturbance that was elf and dwarf. At his side, Faramir frowned as he shook his head in disbelief. Aragorn concurred with a grunting sigh. This was the third time that the unlikely pair had chased away their catch, and although they looked innocent, the former Ranger was beginning to think that their actions were intentional. All of his arguments of the night before about their hunting together in group were gone and he wished for all his soul at that moment that they had agreed to split apart. The thought presented itself to desert these two and leave them to their wiles in the wood, but Aragorn was certain that they were out to spoil the kill and Legolas was an excellent tracker. Even separated, no doubt did he have that the elf and dwarf would find a way to disrupt their hunt. The King was beginning to regret bringing these two along at all.

But angry though he was, he could not repress a smile that was creeping along his face at the sound of their argument. They were up to their usual antics. This time the discussion settled on the halberd that Gimli carried.

"It is a useless weapon for hunting," he heard Legolas answer a previously unheard response.

"It is not if you hunt in the ways of a dwarf," Gimli retorted.

"It is a strange pairing indeed when the weapon is nearly twice the stature of its wielder. You look rather odd with it, Gimli, as if either your axe has grown or your body has shrunk. That is truly a sad statement, as you can hardly afford to get shorter," Legolas chuckled.

"You have no respect for dwarven ingenuity," Gimli grumbled.

Legolas continued to vex the dwarf as his laughter grew, "Very well, tell me then. How is it that you would use this weapon? No, wait! Do not say. Allow me to guess," he said holding up his hand in thought. "Ah, I know! I know!" Then in his amusement he laughed and began a pantomime out his thoughts. In mock seriousness, he said, lowering his voice dramatically as if telling a wondrous tale, "The Great Hunter, Gimli, Master of the Glittering Caves, steps out of his earthen hollow as the light of day emerges across the horizon. Refreshed and ready to show the world the prowess of his hunting technique, he steps forward into the forest. Stealthfully, he works his way through the wood, working to creep up on the animal that dwells there. As he makes his way about, he takes extreme caution to conceal the ever-present plodding of his heavy feet. He is careful hide the sound of his breathing as he goes along, for the noise of his normal exhales alone sound like the winds off the Redhorn. And then, he sees it! A creature stands before him, locked in his sights and caught at its least awares. And then, Gimli, The Great Hunter, steps forward, brandishing his weapon at his side, showing the animal the mighty force that is dwarven armament and ingenuity. Of course, Gimli is knowledgeable in what it is that he carries and he knows it will be too much for the poor, helpless creature to bear. As predicted, the animal falls before Gimli's feet, overcome by the comic apparition of a dwarf and his overgrown axe. And while the pitiful animal writhes on the ground, struggling in the pain of its laughter, that is when Gimli, The Great Hunter, Master of the Glittering Caves, ever-so-mercifully slays it," the elf said, snorting to refrain his own laughter. "Is that not it?"

Gimli did not appear to see the humor. In a haughty voice, he said, "I will have you know that with a weapon of this sort, the best way to hunt is as a teama concept I'm sure the preoccupied nature of elves has prevented you from learning."

"Apparently you have not noticed that the rest of us hunt with other weapons," Legolas said as an aside, smirking as he attempted to refrain his mirth. Then he said, "If you should ask me, I think you fear being seen with an elven weapon."

Gimli stopped on the spot and placed his hands on his hips as he answered, "I fear no such thing!"

"Then why do you carry such a useless instrument?" Legolas asked flicking a hand toward the shafted axe. "Are you afraid I will critique your use of a weapon that is my choice."

The dwarf's cheeks puffed out as he was about to answer when Aragorn piped in. He had been unnoticed by the two up until then, and they had not seen his mirth on their behalf. The former Ranger skillfully schooled his expression and managed to convey a stern, disapproving stare as his voice carried clearly. "MY CHOICE," he said in a loud voice to gain their attention, then he brought it down to a harsh whisper to convey the extreme depth of his chagrin, "is to ask the two of you to cease your discussion, at least while we are out in the wilds. We may as well be wearing bells for all the noise you make. I begin to have doubt that either of you have any skill in the hunt. At least you have yet to prove it by me. You have managed to chase off again the animal Faramir and I were pursuing," he said.

Aragorn watched their expressions at this accusation. Wide-eyed with reproach, like a pair of children caught stealing sweets from a confectioner they appeared, both endeavoring unsuccessfully to look of innocence, but in fact fully guilty of their actions. The corners of their mouths tugged at their effort not to laugh, as their eyes tried to blink back the amusement within them. It was the dwarf who pulled off the more convincing of faces as he said with a breaking voice, "We are very sorry, Aragorn. We will try not to make further disturbing noises." Immediately he and the elf exchanged glances, and a snickering laugh escaped the lips of them both. Gimli clapped a hand to his mouth to repress his chuckles, while Legolas spun around, hunched over as his shoulders rocked to silent laughter. So much for innocence, the Ranger thought.

"Perhaps we should break for a meal," Faramir said in an effort to stay his quickening anger. He had been in a distracted mood all morning and he did not appear to see the humor in the dwarf's rejoinder.

"We are indeed sorry, gentlemen, for disturbing your pleasures," Legolas said with an apologetic expression. "It was not our original intent to interfere, as admittedly we have, but I actually we are having some troubles understanding the concept of why we hunt today. We are doing this for sport? Please explain this to me. I thought hunting was done for supplying meat to the table, but clearly that is not your goal. Or at least I hope it is not. How is killing an innocent animal a sport?" Legolas asked as he opened his pack and broke out their rations.

Aragorn heard Faramir answer in a resigned voice that relayed the depth of his mood. "But we do do it for the sake of eating. At least partially. We would not waste what is found. But, yes, in sport, the antlers are the object of the hunter's praise and worth. The more points the deer has on the rack, the more respected the hunter is who has snagged it."

Legolas and Gimli both snorted lightly and exchanged glances before Gimli put forth the words for this logic in elven and dwarven terms. "To you perhaps the more respected the catch may be, but for us, the tougher the flesh procured. And you would eat this? Hmm. Legolas, I did not realize that men's preference in venison was bitter, pungent, bootleather."

"Nor I. The elves would choose a younger buck yielding a sweeter meat more tender to the tooth. And so it seems that choice would be the preference of dwarves as well. Am I correct? Congratulations then, Gimli! My opinion of your people has just surpassed that of men!"

The dwarf chortled a gruff laugh.

"Jest away, you two," Aragorn replied, "but I intend to go home with that crown for a trophy. I have never seen anything of its like!"

"A trophy it will be, but it will reside in my house," Faramir said to the King with solemnity, but smiling lightly for the first time that day, "as I intend to be the one to attain it."

"Not if I see it first," answered Aragorn. "That was the largest buck I have ever laid eyes on. Its rack was at least a full arms length and I could have sworn it was at least a six by five."

"Six," corrected Faramir. "Six by six. And this is why you will fail in your attempt to capture that deer. Your eyesight is weakening and you cannot see. Your Numenorean blood may be strong, but it does not prevent you from growing blind with your age."

"Be kind enough then to respect your elders and allow them the folly of their handicaps," Aragorn retorted with a smile.

"You would have me lay down my weapon then? Is that an order, my Liege" Faramir asked with a smile dancing in his eyes, "or is it simply a request for mercy made by an old man?"

Legolas and Gimli exchanged a glance and simultaneously rolled their eyes in annoyance over the foolish posturing in this conversation. It had started since they had arrived at Henneth Annûn, and the stag in question, sighted along the way, had continued to grow in both stature and magnificence as they went further into the wood. Legolas spoke out, effectively ending the banter between King and Prince, "Gentlemen, while I can understand the desire to revere a creature that has lived long, for obviously the knowledge in that one is of superior value," he said with smug smile that implied he was speaking of something beyond just a deer, "it still does not explain to me why you need to kill the buck. Would it not serve its purpose better to be left to the wilds? A buck that old is best left to sire. I cannot see a reason to kill it unless it is for food, and there is no shortage of that in our stores."

It was Aragorn's turn to attempt a clearer explanation. He said, "Perhaps you can understand this then, my friend. Hunting for sport is a mortal way of immortalizing a moment. A buck of that age and size is rare, and it is a privilege among men to have opportunity to take down a creature so extraordinary."

The elf made a face, "But Aragorn, you adorn your home with remnants of its body! That is not repulsive to you?"

"And you adorn your body with portions of its hide, for your people are well-renowned for their skills in tanning. Your riding gloves and quiver straps are made from this material. Is that not repulsive to you?" the former Ranger parried.

Legolas sighed, and Aragorn knew that, though the elf was willing to concede this point, he still thought it wrong. The king braced himself, for he could see that this debate could go on for many long hours without conclusion. Elves held no shortage for words, and when a topic was passionately embraced by them, they were tenacious in their hold on it. The four of them would need to find a solution to this problem if they were going to do any kind of worthwhile hunting on this trip. For the moment though, Aragorn knew their progress on this day had probably come to a halt.

Suddenly, Legolas stood stiffly, and to Aragorn's mind he looked for the moment very much like the buck they had just chased off. In natural response, despite the number of years that had passed, Aragorn reached his hand for his bow. Again watching Legolas, he saw the elf turn his head to listen, his eyes fixed into the branches though the King knew he was not really looking there for answer. "What is it?" he asked in a whisper.

"I hear voices," Legolas whispered back. "Someone approaches."

With little time to press thought, the four of them separated and took cover in different parts about them. Legolas nimbly scrambled up the trunk of a course barked pine to perch himself on one of the branches far up in the rafters. Gimli found refuge at the base of a fallen tree, easily immersing himself in the undercarriage of exposed roots. And Aragorn and Faramir hid themselves stealthily in the brush that neared the widening trail. As before with the buck, Aragorn silently sat in waiting for their visitors to appear, an arrow notched on his string.

Within a few moments voices began to echo in the forest green as plodding feet stepped along. With his senses keened to their noise, the Ranger determined there were four of them. Their heavy footfalls told him they were men, though their steps were more furtively placed than those of an average human, and this told him they knew well their ways in the wild. He could also detect the grunts in their voices that informed him that they carried a heavy load.

Apparently unaware of their presence or any danger, the men talked readily among themselves in a language Aragorn had trouble placing. He heard laughter rise among them before he saw any of their faces, but once seeing who they were, he revised his perception. Not four men were they, but two men and two boys. Or at least two young men would he call them, for the two youngest amongst them were barely more than that. And the burden he thought they hauled was more so as well. Two young, field-dressed bucks they transported spitted over two heavy rods across their shoulders. Although it was not a priority, in the back of Aragorn's mind he rejoiced that they did not haul the buck he and Faramir sought.

He considered letting them pass without answer, but their own actions forced him to come forward. Strong though they looked, the burden of the deer was far too heavy for the boys, and with the weight from the rod pressing on their shoulders, and their poised steps leading them to tread lightly, the youngest amongst them lost his footing and fell. Almost immediately, the buck, balanced between he and his partner slid forward toward the boy, and the bulk of the creature came forward, effectively knocking him further off balance. Awkwardly, his older partner lost his footing as well, and the rod that had been carrying the deer fell away from his shoulder. In the helpless tumble of the spill, the roughened end of the rod lashed across the boys right calf, cutting cleanly through his trouser and gashing open a wound. The boy cried out in pain, and his other companions dropped their burden and rushed to his side. Aragorn was faced with a choice as he glanced to see Faramir and Gimli watching him. They could stand in their braced postures until this group left, or they could reveal themselves. The foreign hunters were immersed in their fallen companion only a few meters before them, and Aragorn wondered at the extent of the young man's injury. If it was bad, it might be a while before they could depart, and in turn they might have need to seek help. In any case, it did not appear that the younger would be able to resume his burden, and that alone posed a worry as to how long they might be standing in wait for this passage. In addition to these concerns, a strong urge within the Ranger was compelling him to draw near and to see how the boy fared. So with a glance to his friends as his decision was made, he stepped forward. The strangers had their backs turned, and they did not see as Aragorn, Faramir and Gimli stepped out from their hiding places, weapons ready. Glancing up into the tree branches Aragorn tried unsuccessfully to detect the form of the elf. Nonetheless, he did not doubt the elf's stance remained at alert.

Lowering his own bow, he spoke in Westron, "That is a very large burden for one so young to bare."

The four strangers turned around in unison. Surprise gripped them as they reached for their weapons, though they quickly ceased when they saw that they were surrounded by Aragorn's companions. A lean, sandy-haired man stepped forward. He appeared to be the eldest, though his age was only close to that of Faramir's. He glanced from side to side, sizing up the King and his men. Then, holding his hands opened out in a gesture of surrender, he said, also speaking in the Westron tongue, "And yet our lives are not easy, and it sometimes becomes necessary for our young to take on the burdens of men."

Aragorn smiled lightly to ease any tension as Faramir and Gimli read him and lowered their weapons. "It must be a difficult life indeed if your children must suffer injury to accommodate those needs."

"I am not a child!" the injured lad said from his position on the ground. The hand of other elder pressed down on his shoulder to quell his glaring anger.

Aragorn chuckled quietly, then returned his gaze to the leader. "And yet he speaks as a man. Strange customs your people have. Among my own we would teach our underlings to remain quiet in times of danger."

The elder grimaced as he glanced back at the youth, and it was clear to see that he felt discomfort for the young man's open response. He looked back at Aragorn with a rueful expression as he said, "So it is with us as well. Please forgive Yulli for his outburst. He speaks out of turn, as is the impetuousness of youth, and he has much more learning to do. His maturity does not sit well on his shoulders as yet."

"And neither does that rod. Perhaps you would allow us to offer you some aid," Aragorn said.

The lighter-haired man turned to face the three others in his company and seemed to gauge the extent of the youngest one's wound. Taking a step back toward the lad, he gazed around to Aragorn and said, "It does not appear to be bad, and certainly he can walk, but your assistance would be appreciated. It is a rather heavy load for someone so young," he knelt down to attend the boy's leg as he teased, "and so injured." Yulli hissed in pain to his touch.

Aragorn took a step forward as he handed his bow to Faramir. "If I may," he said as he took his turn to kneel before the boy, "I have some skills as a healer."

The leader moved aside to give Aragorn a better look. The boy hissed again as the King touched the area near his wound. Examining it carefully he said, "This should heal easily enough on its own. It is not deep and the blood is not profuse. It will not require more than a clean bandage and a few days time. Let it bleed for now as it will help cleanse the wound, and it should stop on its own. Later it can be washed and bandaged properly. How far is it to your camp?"

"Not far," said the leader, pointing, "just over that rise." Then standing up straight and meeting Aragorn's eyes, he said, "I am Matthias." He held out his arm in a warrior's greeting.

Aragorn returned the greeting as he said, "I am called Strider," the name they had agreed to call him if they met up with others on the trail. Then gesturing to the others he said, "And this is Anborn," the alias they had agreed upon for Faramir, "and Gimli, the dwarf," he said gesturing to his other companion. They had decided to omit the names of their forefathers in any introductions to make it appear that they were of common blood. They had also decided there was little danger in the revelation of Gimli's true identity, and though the dwarf had argued that he would have found an alternative name amusing, he had never offered one. "And this" his eyes trailed behind them as the elf landed softly on the ground.

"I am Legolas," said the elf as all eyes turned in his direction. It appeared that Legolas also felt it unnecessary to hide his true name. Again the men looked surprised to be taken so off guard, but this time it appeared they were also stunned by the elf's unique features.

After a moment, the former Ranger realized they were perplexed by the creature before them, and so he said, "Legolas is an elf," as if that explained everything.

And perhaps it did, for Mattias nodded his head in affirmation to the statement. "Pardon our poor behavior, Master Elf. Dwarves we have knowledge of, but we have only ever heard of elves, as if in myth. Never did we think that we would see one before us." Turning his eyes back on Aragorn, he said as if in awe, "It is a strange company you travel in."

"I travel in the company of my friends," Aragorn said with a touch of pride. Then turning his gaze to Mattias' companions he said, "And who do you travel with?"

"My family," he answered equally as proud, "or at least, a few of them that you see before you. My cousin Szandor, and his sons Cheiro and Yulli." Aragorn and the others nodded in acknowledgement. "There are many more of us you will meet at our camp," he said with a chuckle and the others of his family echoed his smile.

"So you travel in a large company?" asked the Ranger as he took back his bow and helped bring Yulli to a stand. The boy winced as he took a hobbled step ahead, away from the fallen deer, but quieted himself as he proceeded forward. Faramir stepped into the boy's place and easily lifted the shaft that supported his end of the buck as Legolas took the rear. Mattias resumed his burden with Szandor at his back, and he lead the group forward.

In answer to the question, Mattias said, "It is large enough that a catch of this kind will feed us only a short while. But this forest seems to be plentiful in her gifts, and we do not have fear of being hungry here."

Faramir smirked, his earlier wariness now hidden and he spoke for the first time to the strangers, "She may be plentiful for you, Sir, but for us, our prey is elusive."

"Then you must be hungry. You shall sup with us as repayment for your kindness."

Aragorn's eyes sparkled in understanding of Faramir statement. He explained, "I think Anborn speaks of something beyond our hunger, though we thank you for your offer. We will take you up on the meal, though we are ample of provisions in our camp and do not suffer. My friend speaks that our shoulders are bare of our own burden because we specifically seek out a rare bounty. Perhaps you have seen it."

"Oh? And what might it be?" Mattias asked.

"A stag of great height and crown we seek. His antlers are yea wide," Aragorn gestured with outstretched arms, "And he was nearly a six by six in points," the Ranger said repeating the previous exaggeration.

Mattias nodded, "That is truly a large creature and I cannot say I have seen one quite so large, but a five by five did we see yesterday on a hillock just east of here."

"East?" Aragorn echoed taking note of the information. "What time of day was it?"

"Just shortly after sunrise," Mattias said. "If we had been desperate, we would have taken it ourselves, but being that the meat in a beast that old would be coarse and harshly flavored, we spared it in favor of a younger animal."

Aragorn heard the stifled laughs of Legolas and Gimli at his back and decided to ignore it. He said to Mattias, "In our culture," indicating he and Faramir, "it is done for the sport, not so much the meat, but among the elves and dwarves it is perceived the same way as your people seem to see it."

Mattias laughed in amusement. "We have heard of hunting for sport. It is done so in many cultures we have seen and visited. I see nothing wrong in doing this." Aragorn looked back over his shoulder to see the disapproval on the elf and dwarf faces. Mattias went on, "It is interesting for me to learn this of the elves though. My people know so little of them. I have many questions I would ask you," he said, directing this statement to Legolas and Aragorn both. "How did you come to be companions?

"You know so little of them and yet you have wandered into their realm. Or did you not know this?" Faramir asked, effectively cutting off the direct question.

"We are in a land of the elves?" Mattias asked in obvious wide-eyed awe. His companions looked equally as startled.

"You are in Ithilien," answered Legolas, "and our colony is called Doro Lanthiron, and the lands on which you roam and hunt are guarded by my people. How is it that you do not know the place to which you travel?"

Mattias stopped and turned. He looked troubled. "Forgive me Master Legolas. We did not mean to intrude. It is not of our nature to look to borders to halt our progress. We mostly go as we please, but if we offend, we will leave."

"I have seen nothing of offense, but I am curious of the nature of your travels. Are all your ventures aimless? Does it not seem dangerous to go where you do not know what lies ahead?" Legolas queried further.

"Yes, it does, and for the most part we travel across lands of which we have some prior knowledge," Mattias answered calmly as he continued to walk. They could now hear the sounds of the camp as they drew near.

Aragorn asked the question he could see the elf was about to ask, "But you were unaware of these lands. What brings you to Ithilien?"

Mattias answered directly, without hesitation. He looked about as they entered his camp and the activity within it as he spoke, "We have come to save my people."

Aragorn looked about him also as he took in the sights of the camp. "Save your people? From what?" he asked.

"A danger that threatens to tear our family apart. Mother has foreseen it."

"What danger?" Aragorn asked as he quickly looked back to Mattias, puzzlement in his eyes. A tremor of apprehension ran through the Ranger with these words.

"The details of this danger are sketchy to me. She says she is protecting us. We have no reason not to believe her. She has the gift of Sight and she is puri dai."

Aragorn did not know this term, but he assumed it was meant as a position of importance. His curiosity was not sated by this answer though. "But how will these lands save you?"

"So many questions, my friend. Come. Meet her yourself and you may ask," Mattias said with a smile as he led them into the gathering. There were many tasks proceeding about them, and for a few moments they were able to see the goings of normal life for these people before their presence was noted and all activity ceased.

Gimli spoke as he took in the surroundings, recognizing and understanding what they had encountered, "You are gypsies then?"

Mattias smiled at that. "We have been called that, yes, but we prefer to call ourselves Romany. We are nomads. We have no real home, except the one we make with each other."

They now entered the gypsy camp, and while the four companions looked on with astonished eyes, the residents of the camp stared back at them with equal amazement. For his part, Aragorn could not remember a more colorful, highly decorated scene in the wilds than the one he now beheld. There were numerous wagons and tents in the clearing, and several cook fires with women working and children clambering about them. The people seemed to imitate the appearance of the wagons, and by that it could be said that they were elaborately clad. The women were attired in voluminous multi-hued and patterned dresses, with layers of aprons, pouches, and embroidered and fringed shawls tied into their broad-fronted waistbands. The men were more plainly dressed, though still elaborate in comparison to their Gondorian counterparts. They wore heavy-waled trousers with flapped pockets, and shirts of brightly colored hues that bloused over their torsos. Some wore over-tunics and a few had sashes tied about their waists and gold jewelry about their ears. The hair for both the men and women was plaited or held back from their faces with bright scarves.

The encampment was large and immersed within the trees of the forest, dappled with sunlight, but for the most part canopied by the trees and each wagon and tent appeared organized and tidy, with everything seemingly in its own place. Aragorn quickly assessed that there were about thirty in their group counting all the men, women and children. Their faces were a mixture of ages and features, some bearing striking resemblance to one another, and others quite unique for their lighter hair or eyes. They all looked well-kept, healthy and clean, hair brushed and tied back, and it seemed that they paid close attention to their appearance, despite their rugged outdoor lifestyle.

The activities in the camp were largely varied, divided into communal activities. One group of women tended laundry, while another was preparing food for the midday meal. Two men were stretching and tanning hides, while several more were repairing a wagon wheel, and another few were sharpening tools. Small children ran about playing under the discerning eyes of the adults among them, but they seemed to be the youngest, and the elder children seemed to have tasks within the varied activities of the camp or looked to be tending the youngest as well.

As the faces of the Romany turned to stare at them, all activity stopped, and Aragorn realized that he and his company must have made a startling appearance to the tribe. The families within this clan clustered together protectively where they could, apprehensive of the intrusion of strangers within their midst. Whispers between them were murmured as the four made their way through the camp following Mattias and the others. They carried their burden to where the men were working the skins and dropped the days hunt to the ground there. All eyes followed them warily. And to Aragorn's discerning eye, the one who drew the sharpest attention was Legolas. Aragorn had expected this as he looked to his friend to see how he would be holding up under their close scrutiny. The Ranger was amused to see Legolas staring back with equal intensity, his eyes darting quickly about to take in every detail and nuance of the camp. Aragorn watched carefully to see how the elf would react, reading Legolas' body language to gauge their own danger. But the elf's weapon remained at his back, and his hands were unclenched and relaxed. He could see curiosity flitting the elven lords eyes, numerous questions obviously taking hold there, for it seemed these people were as much a mystery to the elf as he was to them.

For Aragorn's part, he too had little knowledge of the Romany. He had encountered gypsies a few times in his travels in his youth, and for what he did know, he had found them to be harmless folk who kept mostly to themselves. They had their own language, their own religion and their own value systems, though he had never been among them long enough to learn much on any of these topics. As a race, they were travelers, he knew, never spending much time in any one place, trading goods and services when they came upon civilized lands, but having more highly attuned skills for living in the wilds. They could speak the Westron tongue, and had been to enough places to learn how to assimilate the customs of the people they encountered, but they seemed more content to travel onward, never taking refuge in any one place for very long. They took from the land what they found, never questioning ownership or legitimate rights, believing everything that could be had was provided to them by their gods. And that in itself had caused strife for them, Aragorn had found. For if anything, Aragorn knew more of these people by their reputation then by his personal contact. He knew that the settled folk who encountered them did not care to lose their hard-earned crops or livestock to the taking of the Romany. Many a village had a not-so-pleasant story to share about gypsies and of their thieving ways. But the Ranger also knew these people were innocent in their knowledge of the goods that they stole. For the most part, their morals were pure, paying back if accused with gold, silver and mithril forged coin, or trading services if they had no precious metals of which to barter.

As they stood for the moment near the skinning frames, he saw the people slowly begin to resume their tasks. The women went back to their activities, though they still observed Aragorn's party through sideways glances and tilted glances directed their way. The men were more forthcoming, drawing near, as if Mattias and Szandor's accompaniment were approval for their approach. And in the background, the children, young and old, watched with unrestrained curiosity, prodding each other and darting forward and back. Then Mattias gently directed Aragorn's attention to the men who drew nearest, and made brief introductions. Cousins, uncles, in-laws, and so on. They all were related in some distinct way.

Slowly, they edged their way around the camp making small talk and exchanging pleasantries with the people as they did, and Aragorn could see the wariness of everyone, his company included, had lifted. But he also soon became aware that the women were not being introduced and he remembered this too about the Romany people. Women were not highly regarded in the tribal rule. Faramir seemed to notice as well, and he voiced the query, "Do your women not have names? I notice you have not made mention of them." Aragorn was glad it had been said. For all that they were strangers to these people and invading their space, he was more than willing to assimilate to their customs. But he also wanted to show that he and his people were fair and equal in their judgements and regarded women equally to men, even if the Romany were a male-dominant society.

Mattias blushed lightly. He also seemed eager to show they were a fair people. He answered, "Forgive me, I had forgotten your people's ways. Our women are not used to being drawn out this way, but I will happily introduce them to you as well." And so he did, encircling the camp again to make the necessary introductions. Aragorn and his friends made special efforts to engage the women in converse, and before long, the women too seemed to ease up on their wariness, laughing and teasing the company as they moved about them. The camp life began to seem normal again.

Mattias turned and smiled as two men slowly approached. Aragorn could immediately tell they were the brothers of Mattias, as they all shared similar eyes and general features, though their coloring was darker. They appeared to be younger than Mattias, though the elder of the two was larger in size, barrel-chested, while the younger was of a more wiry build. They looked at the strangers with eyes that conveyed wonder and, like the others, their attention was drawn in particular to Legolas. Mattias' eyes held amusement as they approached. He said, "These are my brothers, Gordash and Curtik."

Aragorn looked at the two younger men and a brief wariness traveled through him at their gawking stares. They appeared transfixed. He tried to read them, and found there was something more than simple awe in their stares. In many respects, they shared the appearance of most of the people in the camp, looking wildly dismayed to see strangers, particularly an elf, in their midst. Aragorn tried to relate to their feelings, imaging how he might feel if a creature that he had only known in tales, say as a dragon, were to wander into his home. No doubt he too would be as incredulous as they, and so he felt a twang of sympathy and understanding for their poor behavior. But still, there was something in their gaze and sidelong glances to each other that conveyed an expectation of sorts, as if they knew Aragorn's company would be arriving.

Mattias interrupted Aragorn's thoughts, saying, "Mayhap my brothers can tell you more about of the fears Mother has for our people. They have just returned from travels with her and they had journeyed to seek the salvation we need to survive."

Aragorn looked from Mattias to the brothers to see if they had answer to this, for it could well explain what he had already observed. Yet they were oblivious to everything but Legolas, grinning madly in anticipation for what was to come. The youngest said lightly to his brother, as if not even considering that others were about, "She was right, Gordash! She said this would come to pass, and it has! We have found our salvation!"

The previous wave of apprehension moved through Aragorn with invigorated strength. These words sent a chill up his spine and an alarm went off in his mind. He saw Legolas shift uneasily in his stance, and at his side he felt Gimli and Faramir tense as well. There was something not right here.

With his face lit in joy, the youngest looked to Mattias with glistening eyes, as if his older brother might understand the wonder he felt at their good fortune. Breathlessly he said, "Mattias, this cannot wait. We cannot let his appearance escape our attentionhe is what we need to be saved! We must tell Mother! She will want to see him! NOW!"

A/N: I'm going to follow suit as many other authors have done before me. Our cast has expanded and some of you might find this supplement helpful in remembering who is who among our characters.

Strider okay that's easy, Aragorn's alias

Anborn Faramir's alias

Mattias the eldest son of the witch

Gordash the middle son of the witch

Curtik the youngest son of the witch

Bregus the witch, also called Mother, shuv'ni (another word for witch)

and puri dai (tribe elder)

Szandor Mattias' cousin

Cheiro and Yulli Szandor's sons