Chapter 16: Falling into Nothingness

The ground no longer shook but that meant nothing to the looming danger the former Ranger could sense. There was trouble about and it was all that more apparent as he neared the place he had last seen the Dwarf. A void in the earth now stood out where his friend should have been. In the air was the maddening sounds of birds stirred to life by the tremors that had started his fears and the scent of soil opened up from the ground down below.

"Gimli!" Aragorn screamed out bringing himself to a halt near the gaping hole in the ground. Dust and pitch blackness seemed all there was beneath him, and he feared for the worst, that this pit was fathoms deep. But then fragments of the earth around the rim of the gap crumbled and fell. The quick sound of them landing onto dirt and a stony floors told the former Ranger the drop was not so far. Maybe thirty feet. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough still.

The hole was not wide, ten feet at most, and the ledge of it was nearly half that depth again before giving way into the darkness. What gave the Ranger pause was the preciseness of the hole. It appeared to be an exact circle, even on all edges as if it had been cut by a knife. Tree roots and vegetation stood out in the dirt as if it were a cross section to be found in a study on plant anatomy. The visage of the sight gave Aragorn a moment to query such a thing. He had seen sinkholes and damage done by earthquakes before, but never had he seen anything quite like this. It was too precise to be made by nature. An involuntary shiver ran up his spine as he speculated its creation.

The King shook it away. He needed to focus on finding Gimli. It was his chief concern. Unfortunately, with the trees about him deep in shadow and the position of the sun not cooperating with the Ranger's need to see, and further a penetrating wall of dust below him, there was nothing that gave Aragorn access to view deeper into the cave.

"Gimli!" he called again, though he decided to cease his cry as more stone and soil descended into the hole. Quickly Aragorn backed away. Taking a new tact, he got down to his hands and knees, then further to his belly, and began to inch his way closer to the gaping pit. Careful to measure his motion should the earth begin to release her hold again, the King slowly made his way to the ledge.

The dusty air hovered still, though the updraft created by new circulation was dispelling it quickly like wafts of smoke and Aragorn soon found he was able to see bit by bit more of what lay below. His patience was rewarded. From the edge of the precipice, he could make out the faint outline of the Dwarf lying prone directly beneath him nearly obliterated by shadow. He was partly obscured by the lip of the tunnel, but the King was able to make out the upper half of Gimli's body. Aragorn studied the Dwarf's form noticing the rise and fall of Gimli's chest as well as the trickle of blood beginning to form a small puddle by his head. Blood was not a good sign, but the rhythm of the Dwarf's breathing was at least assuring. He did not appear to be in distress and Aragorn had to hope the source of blood was superficial. Still, his heart was filled with dread.

"Gimli?" he called out lightly, so as not to send any more earth into the hole from the reverberations of his voice, yet the Dwarf did not stir. A new worry appeared in Aragorn's mind, concern about the part of Gimli's body that he could not see. His friend might have suffered further injury. He frowned as he tried to determine the pallor of the Dwarf below but the light was too dim. Whatever the case, Gimli was hurt and needed aid. The Man knew he needed to do something and to do it soon.

Aragorn looked quickly about, trying to find a means to get access into the hole. Such a task would not be easy given the tools he had readily at hand. The trees were tall and bereft of lower branches due to the thick shade in which they grew. The sticks and branches that littered the ground were either too small or two thin and brittle to be of use. And the smaller saplings were far too short to make the reach even if Aragorn could have somehow uprooted them for his purpose. The hole was too deep. Aragorn's only chance of reaching Gimli was with a rope.

Unfortunately, he did not have one at the moment.

Sighing in frustration, he knew his only alternative was to fetch one from their camp or to find other means along the way, though the journey back to Henneth-Annûn was at least a half hour's run. But looking down on the Dwarf, the need to act tugged at the King's heart. He had little choice.

"Gimli? I know not if you can hear me, but know me to be true. I am going for aid and I will come back as swiftly as I may," Aragorn said softly to the being below. Then he slowly backed away before rising again to his knees and straightening. Turning back toward the hill on which they had come, he began to run at full force toward their camp.

****

The mass of haunted faces surrounded them, coming at them from all sides. Their motion forward forced Legolas and Faramir further into the center of the camp and neither could detect a hole or a weakness among the front. The Elf felt his mind whirl in confusion as he attempted to understand it. How could so many Romany come to be there? Where there had been a number just the day before rounding out at thirty, including women and children, now there were several hundred, with no women or children to be seen. He turned his head, regarding them, studying their faces as he willed away his fear. He had met all in the camp. Surely there was someone the Elf would recognize among them. Turning about he searched, seeking familiarity among them. And then he saw a pattern, a repeat in the features. Flipping around he saw the same faces greeting him from the other side. And to the left and to the right it was there again. Like a house of mirrors, Legolas realized they had been deceived. No doubt they were surrounded, but were the creatures about them real or apparitions?

"It's an illusion!" Legolas cried out to Faramir, hoping that saying it aloud would cast aside the mirage and will the crowd of Romany away. "There were not this many in their tribe! Somehow, our eyes are deceived!" he said as he notched an arrow and targeted one of the men in the crowd. But the wall remained. Spinning around to cover the Elf's back, Faramir drew his own bow.

"Put your weapons down before we are forced to hurt you," a female voice commanded as simultaneously the men in the crowd in unison drew their bows and aimed at the pair.

"I might offer the same advice," Legolas heard Faramir say sarcastically as the Elf drew his bow even tauter. A smile played on the corners of the Elf's lips. It was a pointless brag, but Legolas appreciated the Prince's fighting spirit. The Elf's eyes searched the crowd to find the source of the voice. It seemed to come from all sides and he was unsure where to look. He could not find her though there was something about that vocal resonance that was familiar to him.

Then there was a new noise. It was still voice, but now one lifted to song, though the melody was flat and unbecoming. It sent dread through the Elf's body. Legolas instantly recognized it and felt a tremble pervade him with its sound. Though he had heard it before, until this minute he had chalked its last voicing up to a figment of dream. But now, upon hearing it, he knew it had indeed been a reality. It was the nearly tuneless droning of a chant, only bereft of recognizable words. It had been sung the day before and Legolas' recollection told him it had been responsible for his fall when the smoke had overcome him. With the singing, he also realized the owner of that voice. This was Bregus. Yet he had opportunity to say nothing on his discovery as he found himself swaying, his knees buckling. Weakness rode through his lower body as the song grew louder and within seconds his legs became numb and lifeless.

Helpless to stop himself, he unexpectedly spiraled to a fall, his bow swinging wildly as he toppled. He uttered a choked gasp as he fell, surprised that his body had betrayed him. He landed heavily, unprepared to stop his fall and as he did so his bow was thrown from him just beyond his grasp.

Beyond him, Legolas could hear a woman's voice cry out as if in shock. It was not the same voice that sang.

Faramir too gasped surprised to see the downed Elf. He had not heard an arrow fly, nor did he see any other weapon drawn. Looking down only momentarily, he tried to discern what had happened and what injury there might be to his friend. "Legolas!" he called out in fear. In the time of that momentary glance, the Romany moved in, closing the gap upon the Man and Elf by strides much greater than any they should have taken, sweeping in with a ghostly speed as if they were gliding. As both the companions looked up, only meters away they came to face dozens of arrows pointed directly at them. They froze in their places. There was no escape and Legolas could feel his heart beating madly within his chest as Faramir slowly lowered his weapon. Their defeat was acknowledged.

"That is a wise move," the woman's voice said and several of the bows were lowered. "Now your knives," she commanded. Both Elf and Man hesitated, but the return of raised bows convinced them to cooperate and they reluctantly relinquished their hunting knives.

Knowing their fate was set, Faramir focused his attention on Legolas and turned to face his fallen companion. He dropped to his knees and placed a hand on the Elf's arm as he looked with concern into Legolas' eyes. "What has happened?" he asked Legolas in a hoarse whisper. "Why did you fall?"

Legolas grimaced. There was no pain in his legs, only a pervading weakness that frustrated and frightened the Elf. He prodded them trying to sense his own touch and to raise them to move. It was barely felt. He answered softly. "My legs. They will not move though I know not why. I cannot stand."

And then a voice called out in accusation, though Legolas could tell it was not directed toward them. "What have you done?" Again, the sound echoed about them, swirling as if caught in an echoing chamber. Then from the corner of his eye, the Elf saw a figure assertively pushing through the Men surrounding them. The swish of a skirt and a brief glimpse of multi-colored underskirts and boots peaked out as she came forward. The woman kneeled before him and Legolas looked up to see Kattica's face. He felt mild relief to see someone he recognized. But then he realized it wasn't truly Kattica, at least not as he recalled her from the day before. He frowned as he tried to conceive what could make her so vastly altered. It was in her eyes. That was where he saw the greatest change. She was older somehow wiser in an almost dangerous way, and Legolas shuddered slightly at the abrupt transformation he could see had taken place. He could not guess what could have effected her this way. But then she looked at him, and an almost sympathetic glimmer came into her eye, and Legolas saw that she was suffering somehow. He felt quick regret for her situation.

She too prodded his legs, touching them and trying to find strength in them to move. She asked, "Can you feel this?" He shook his head in answer and she tried again and again. Her face screwed up in anger as she swiftly assessed what had happened. She looked up toward the circle of men and then she looked beyond it as if she could see through them. She spoke to someone there. "What spell holds him? Is there a purpose in hobbling him, Bregus?"

Unlike before when the voice had been multi-dimensional, now it sounded flat. The Elf could tell where it originated and he turned to face that direction as the other woman answered. "I could not afford to let this one get away like the others had. This one I needed to keep," came the voice.

A weight of renewed apprehension fell across Legolas' shoulders. Dread filled his heart as he heard the words and an unconsidered fear came to him. His memory reached back to his own missing people and he gasped at the thought that this is what she meant.

"I do not understand," Kattica said, her voice raised in anger.

"He cannot walk, nor will he, so long as I hold him with my spell. I plan to keep this Elf within my reach," the woman's voice said in subtle derision.

Legolas could see Kattica's ire growing as her question was evaded. Raising her hand she stroked the air with a mighty wave, and rose crying, "Enough!"

Instantly the multitudes about them disappeared. A group of only little more than a dozen men and boys remained, their weapons still raised. Then he saw the women and children in the background, carrying on as if nothing strange was occurring in their midsts. Legolas blinked, astounded at how great the illusion had been and felt gratitude that they had not fired arrows into this invisible scene. Then he took a gulp of air recognizing all of those about him. They were the men in the Romany tribe he had met. His eyes traveled around the group, trying to make contact with each of them, all of them, any of them, but their faces showed a void where recognition should have been, much the same as those haunted faces had shown. They seemed not to know either the Man or the Elf. Legolas turned his head and saw Mattias. If any would be more welcoming, it was this one. Attempting to catch the eldest son's eye, Legolas was sadly disappointed. His contact was met with an icy stare.

"Gone!" he heard Faramir gasp and Legolas sighed, nodding in agreement.

At least Kattica remained. He turned to look at her, and she caught his confusion. Continuing, she yelled out, "Half-truths, Bregus! Tell me what this charm is and why you would need the Elf? You said nothing about this when we spoke before. What others do you speak of?"

And that was when Legolas finally came to see her. The old woman stepped forward walking with a cane in hand and pushing her way between the Men. The Elf's heartbeat quickened its pace as a knot twisted in his stomach. The nightmare of the day before dissolved into full reality. New horror filled his mind. This was not the first time he had seen this woman. Once again the memory of yesterday's attack flooded him. He remembered her drawing near, the menace in her smile, her touch, her words, that song, and then nothing else as her spell of sleep took hold of him then. This was Bregus and the Elf recognized her at last.

Yet she had made him forget. Gimli had been right. Sorcery was at work here! What else had she done to him? Did the same affliction hold true for Faramir?

Gritting his teeth, he had cutting words he desired to spit out at her now, but the old woman spoke first and he lost the opportunity. "He knows of whom I speak," she said tauntingly, her eyes fixed on the Elf, "Don't you?"

Legolas' expression withdrew, his eyes flashing in pain as he realized in her cold glance exactly what she meant. Her words only confirmed it. He cast his eyes down, feeling ill at the knowledge that came to him. He lowered his head in shock and remorse for what he knew in his soul to be true. And then he spoke. "You killed them," he said in a slow whisper.

The accusation hung in the air. He could feel Faramir's grip on his arm tighten and it only made his anger grow more.

"What is he saying? Killed who?" Kattica asked Bregus.

Legolas' desolate despair came forward then in answer to the question Kattica had laid before the old woman. "You killed those three Elves!" he screamed, his eyes stabbing the old woman.

"Yes," the Romany elder answered in a whisper, creating harsh contrast between herself and the Elf.

Legolas' eyes dropped to look at an object she held. A pendant of some sort. It was woven of chestnut colored threads. No, not threads. What is that? With a shock, Legolas recognized the rope for what it was. Hair. Elven hair? A small sob escaped him as he recognized the hue. It belonged to one of the Elves in the missing team. "They were innocents," he choked out, overcome with grief and nausea. "They were not even armed to fight you!"

Bregus looked down at the talisman that had caught Legolas' attention. Then she drew her eyes up as her fingers played over the locks. "They ran. It was a mistake. Mine really for charging my sons with the need to gain them without truly controlling their actions. Had they simply taken those Elves, none of you would need to have been involved in this. But they failed. I failed. Then. But not now. My control of the situation is much tighter now. I only needed one Elf and now I have him. Past mistakes will not be repeated. So long as I hold this," the woman said as she held up the charm hanging from her hand.

But his knowledge of the origins of the talisman did not seem to help him. His legs resolutely remained, unwilling to move at his command. The ornament, he noticed with scrutiny, crudely depicted a running figure. It was inelegant and crude and plain. This, he thought with astonishment, is the instrument of my incapacity. He watched as she tied it to her wrist, the ornament dangling like a charm while she sang again that wordless tune. He felt his legs grow ever heavier as she went on. It seemed hardly possible yet there was no other evidence to indicate what might be holding him down. The bile of his hatred burned in him, but for the moment a simple question escaped him as he longed more to know, "What do you plan to do with us?"

Bregus laughed, a loathing, despicable cackle that told him too well she knew exactly what she wrought and that she had put a great deal of thought into her plans. "Certainly more than I plan for your other friends! They can rot where they land are for all I care."

From the corner of his eye Legolas could see Faramir stiffen with quiet rage as he spoke, "What do you mean? What have you done to them?"

Then Bregus fixed her gaze on Faramir, and looked at him as if she had just noticed him. Her face softened and she lowered herself to his level, her eyes growing misty with an expression that the Elf interpreted to be longing. Her lips parted, and she slowly drew forward as if to kiss the Man. Faramir drew back in repulsion, screaming out, "Vile woman!" as he pushed the shuv'ni away. Instantly every weapon was raised again and poised at the pair.

Bregus fell back but pushed herself up with her hands, a coy smile brilliantly lighting up her face as she said, "Soon enough you will want me, fair one. Once the transformation is complete you will barely remember anything of this life and you will want only me."

Kattica chose that moment to resume her earlier argument. "You have yet to tell me why, Bregus! What purpose do you have in this?"

"Outside of my need for this Man nothing else here concerns you!" the elder said with vexation as she rose to her feet.

"There is reason here you are not sharing, old woman! Why was it so important that you immobilize the Elf? You had this planned. I recognize not that talisman. When did you conjure it? Where did it come from? What Elves do you speak of?" Kattica said standing eye to eye with the old woman.

"And I have told you it is none of your concern, child!" the old shuv'ni snarled and suddenly half the weapons raised were pointing at Kattica.

The girl caught her breath. Recognizing that she had gone too far, her eyes grew wide in fear. Then she turned her eyes down and quickly said in a soft voice, "I forget myself, Mother. Forgive me."

The old woman's face softened from its feral snarl, and her lips broke into a cold smile as she admonished, "You had best learn your place before you step over one time too many."

Kattica meekly nodded. "Yes, Mother," she whispered, then stepped away.

And then the old woman turned back to the two prisoners as she barked out her orders. "Bring them near my vardo and tie them up so they may not escape." Then she paused and looked hard into Legolas' face. "I do not like the gleam in your eye, Elf! I will quench that if you do not cease it on your own."

Legolas' mind pondered the plight of Gimli and Aragorn and that of his own people. His heart longed to seek revenge on this witch and he could not control his rage. "I will not alter myself for your sake!"

At his side he heard Faramir suck in a hiss. "Calmly, friend. Do not stir her wrath," he whispered.

She smiled, as if amused by both the simplicity of Faramir's comment and the wrath of Legolas' hatred, and as she looked at him, Legolas feared she read him as well as he had read her. "You wish to know how I did this to you. Very well, take mind and you will feel it: my spell from yesterday still has pull within you. The second you stepped into the circle of the camp, my power over you became even stronger. Can you not feel it writhing within you right now?" she asked. And Legolas suddenly could. He trembled as he felt a tentacle of something dark stroke the back of his mind, his eyes showing his fright. At that moment he realized perhaps he had underestimated her. She continued, "You came to us on your own Elf, though you were convinced you walked elsewhere."

Legolas then understood why such panic had gripped him. His senses had been screaming out truths on the direction they took, and yet she had manipulated his mind so he could not heed it.

"This was not our choice," Faramir spat out.

"No, I wouldn't think it would be," Bregus replied.

"What have you done with our friends?" Legolas demanded.

Bregus bent down to meet his face as she pushed a stray lock of hair away, soothingly stroking his brow like one would an errant child. Her head cocked side to side as she looked long at him. "That gleam is still there. You do hate me, don't you?"

Legolas knew an answer was not needed. His eyes said it all. He swatted her hand away.

At his side he heard Faramir ask, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I need you. Both of you," she said, glancing again at Faramir before looking back to the Elf. "And I do not need your friends. I have attempted to put them someplace where I need not worry about them coming to find you. And should they escape, it will be too late, for my task will be completed before you or they may be rescued. I could not gain knowledge of others in your camp except what I could observe so I did what I could to distract them. I seriously doubt you will tell me how many others there are, will you?" she said, her eyes slits as she glared at Legolas. Then she peered at Faramir and smiled, "Perhaps you will tell me though. Should others come looking for you, what numbers might there be?"

But Faramir turned away from her, refusing to make contact with her eyes. "You will not say? You will. However many there might be, their numbers will be lessened, for no doubt they will be looking for your friends as well. Ah, but for now I see that that gleam grows greater in your eyes, Elf! You will stop it now! It is piercing and I do not like it!"

"I am glad something as simple as my eyes has an affect on you. Curtik said similar words yesterday. Or were those your words too?" Legolas jeered.

"My power over the tribe has grown considerably since then, but those were indeed his own words. But I agree. He was right. I share this disdain with him," she said.

"It matters not what you feel. I will stand in opposition to you!" Legolas said with venom.

"Right now you stand nowhere," she sneered back.

"Your powers will not last. I will fight you!" he said, reaching out and pushing her away.

She caught herself and her face grew dark. "Very well, you were warned. Let us see how long that might last while my serpentine spell still holds you," she said as she reached forward and roughly grabbed his jaw. He returned her stare with an ugly glare of dark menace. Hands reached out and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him back against someone holding him as others joined in and held down his arms. Then a glimmer lit her eyes as she fixed them on Legolas' and she softly called out, "Kattica, come here."

Struggling against his holds, Legolas heard and pondered her command. What role did the girl have in this? "Touch him like this," Bregus commanded the girl as the elder began feather-light strokes against his cheek. Legolas tried to pull away, but the pleading look Kattica gave him left him unnerved. A part of her looked into him and he saw something resembling an apology within her eyes. But swiftly it retreated as she picked up where the old woman left off. Her eyes flared at the touch, as if something exciting had occurred and then a small smile flicked at the girl's lips and her crooked smile twisted into something depraved and ugly. The transformation had transpired in a matter of seconds, and suddenly Legolas no longer recognized her. Again he tried to pull away, tugging at the arms that held him. In response her other hand came to his face and held him more firmly there. He attempted to reach up, trying to pull her hands away, but others pressed him down and he could only squirm beneath them. Beyond his controllers, he could see Faramir staring at the blade of a knife poised at throat-level. Legolas knew that they dare not fight.

And then the old woman stepped into the activity. She placed her walking stick on the ground and reached from behind Kattica, kneeling and placing her fingertips on the girl's temples. With dulcet tones, she instructed, "Reach into his mind." Then she spoke dark words that Legolas did not recognize. They sounded sinister and salacious. Several minutes with her words repeating, chanting mysteriously in complex rhythms. Legolas felt his cheek tingle where the girl was touching him, but otherwise there was nothing mystical about the moment. Opening her eyes and speaking to the Elf, Bregus said, "Now show us what fears might you hold, Elf?"

Stunned by the question, a whirl of images came to his mind, but he pushed them aside, willing his thoughts to go blank. But to his horror, Kattica's face began to mirror Bregus' for the glee he could see shining there. The girl looked pleased, as if she had the answer to a long-standing puzzle. In a voice that might be described as mocking, Kattica said, "I see it now. Oh, so sad. Does the world not seem to grow dim for you, Legolas?"

Legolas tried to ignore it, but he felt the coiling movement grow stronger and slip deeper within him. With surprise he looked into the girl's eyes and saw conflicting emotions, both horror for what she had conjured and pleasure for having done so. But Legolas had no time to consider it further. From the corners of his eyes, he could see it creep in. Darkness, a pitch that seemed endless and hideous, moved forward toward him, swallowing him. Instinctively he tried to scramble away but his body could not cooperate, left only to writhe under the holds. But more so than vision, he could feel it, like the walls of a cave squeezing in upon him. He felt compressed and rigid as the blackness closed around him, shutting him off. His eyes grew wide with fear as he tried to see through the dark to nothingness. It was worse than any caving experience he had had as this felt more like the hopelessness of being buried alive. His breathing grew labored as if his lungs would not work, and a deep panic overtook him in an effort to fight it away. In his ear he could hear Faramir's assurances speaking over his own precarious situation, "There is nothing Legolas. All is as was." But it did nothing to dissuade Legolas' fright and phobia. His heart pounded frantically in his chest as sweat caught at his temples. It seemed Bregus knew exactly how to strike terror in Legolas' heart, and he gulped out a sob as the darkness probed harder. He fell back, pressed deeper and pierced to the very core of his soul.

****

Aragorn ran around the bend of trees that marked the edge of forest sheltering their cave and was startled to see Arwen and Eowyn making their way over the winding path that led out of the trees. The sun now shone brightly overhead and the sound of the cicadas etched over the wildflower fields that met up with these and crisscrossed the spaces between the forest's edge. The women were caught up in lively discussion, and appeared oblivious to Aragorn's approach. But when they did see him, they started forward. His distress was apparent.

"Estel!" Arwen called out. "What is it? Where is Gimli?"

Breathlessly Aragorn blurted out the word, "Fallen"

"Gimli has fallen?" Eowyn questioned. "Where? Is he hurt?"

Aragorn nodded dismally as he gasped, "I had to leave him to get help. It is a deep holeVery darkHe would not answer when I called to him."

"Stay here. I will get supplies a rope. Rest for the moment, Aragorn," Eowyn instructed as she raced back.

"Bring a lamp as well," Arwen called to her and Eowyn nodded as she darted along the trail.

During the woman's absence, Aragorn's breathing leveled off and in short time he was able to fill Arwen in on more details of what had occurred. It took only a few minutes for Eowyn's return. She handed the coil of rope to Aragorn and a medicine kit and the lamp to Arwen while she carried extra waterskins. She said, "Let us go then. Lead the way, Aragorn."

Arwen held her back. "I think it may be wiser if you were to stay and direct Faramir and Legolas on should they return."

"But how will I know where to send them? Would it not be better that I come? I might be of aid," the fair lady responded.

"Nay," Aragorn answered, "I fear the woods are no longer safe for any to journey. You ladies should stay here in the safety of our camp. Tell Legolas and Faramir I journey a half hour due East of here, directly at the foot of the forest near the second falls. They will come on their own and Legolas will know to where we go as Gimli told me earlier that they took the same path yesterday."

"I will aid you then. Eowyn will tell them our direction," Arwen said.

This time Aragorn held Arwen back. "It is not safe. I feel there is something wrong in this. I fear for you should you go. Please stay here."

"You fear being attacked?" Arwen asked with a look of fear.

"No, it is not that. There is just something not right in what has happened. I cannot explain it. I only know danger is about," Aragorn answered.

"But danger of a source you know not. You need do better than this Estel if you wish to dissuade me. Forget not that I am Elf and I can still hear the partial call of the trees. I would think I could be aid to you in times of danger as my senses are as keen as yours, perhaps better," Arwen said in rising passion.

"It is not wise. You are not trained as a warrior." He reached out to take the lamp and the kit from Arwen but she pulled back. Her face was tainted with anger, and he noticed too that Eowyn's nostril's were flaring with the heat of temper.

"Then perhaps I should travel with you as I am trained as a warrior," Eowyn said with a clipped voice.

Aragorn then realized his folly and immediately regretted it. He did not mean to slight them. He was merely thinking of their safety. He began to speak apologetically, "I only meant"

"Nay, Estel," his wife interrupted, "You will not keep me from this. Not when I can be of aid. Gimli does not need us to debate this. I am going whether you lead the way or not."

Resigned, Aragorn knew he had made matters difficult in his haste and that Arwen was correct in saying they did not need to argue it. He grunted in answer, taking the waterskins from Eowyn as she said, "I will send Faramir and Legolas the minute they return."

The Ranger began to run again more determined to reach Gimli quickly and offer what aid he could. He hoped there was no serious damage to the Dwarf though worry made his pulse race as adrenaline pushed him on. Arwen easily managed the run and kept up with him well.

They had nearly reached the bend in the forest edge that led to the field before the slope at the break near the trees. Aragorn slowed slightly, breathing heavily and let Arwen jog at his side. While he had not been stewing on their disagreement the expression on her face told him that she was still hurt. It cut him to the quick to see her scorn and pain and he chose to try and resolve the issue while he could. He reached out and touched her elbow. "ArwenI am sorry." he said, but she cut him off.

"Aragorn, please!" she said with exasperation, barely slowing her steps to let him keep pace with her. "Cease now. We will discuss this more fully at another time when the setting is right for clear converse."

Irritated that she would not hear his apology, he said, "I am trying to say I was in error."

She scowled, glancing his way as she said. "Aye, you were in error, but for reasoning that would never occur to you."

"What would that mean?" he queried.

She shrugged it off. "It means I do not wish to discuss it at the moment. We are near where you said we need be. Now where might we find Gimli?" She asked, ignoring his apparent frustration.

"Up there," he said, pointing to the slope as he made his way diagonally across the field, ignoring the trail in order to make faster time. He would have liked to discuss this more, but she was right and it irritated him. They were getting near the pit and Gimli's safety was paramount.

Aragorn jogged ahead as they made their way closer. He granted her distance. But then he heard a sound of a grunt and he turned to look back. A rut in the field had tripped her and she went down on one knee. Undaunted, she began to rise immediately. Aragorn quickly doubled back, eager to help as he caught up with her steps. He had reached her side and was pulling her up when a horrible rumble began to shake the earth. He found his legs going out from beneath him before he had time to compensate for it feeling himself falter as he hopelessly began to tumble. In slow motion he could see it all happening about him and his regrets were immediate and deep. With his hand on her arm as she was rising and he falling, he threw off her balance. He could see Arwen attempting to correct herself even as the earth continued to shake, but she was not a successful.

He was falling, and in the confusion he had taken her with him. His sight became sudden, all motion occurring in the space of milliseconds, and yet he comprehended it all. Rapidly he descended downward and as he did he saw her follow him in his plummet. Swiftly he dropped. And just as swiftly a shock of pain reached him as he made hard impact, and then everything went black.