Defender of Lorien

Screams in the Night

~Legolas~

Legolas went to follow his cousin and her friend, but he was pushed away by the elf. He wanted desperately to go with his cousin. Her demeanor had slowly been decaying over the past day, her already pale complexion getting greyer by the minute. She was ill, so very ill, but she hadn’t wanted anyone to make a fuss over her, reassuring everyone that her wound was only slight. Now Legolas wasn’t so sure though. The blood on her waist had been such a dark shade, mixed with a sickly brown. They should have stopped and looked over her wound.

“I am sorry friend,” the elf Anya had called Nifilath said walking up to Legolas, “I know you are her cousin and a prince of the Mirkwod elves, but you are a stranger among us none the less. Do not worry though, Orylonn is a skilled healer, Anyanesta will be fine, she should be.” But worry was etched across the other elf’s face plain as day.

“I hope the lass will be fine,” Gimli said walking up to Legolas.

“I thought you didn’t care for us elves,” Legolas stated grudgingly. He was still angry with Gimli for upsetting Anya earlier.

“Maybe what I said to that other elf was hasty, I didn’t realize it would upset her any,” Gimli said with a shrug.

“He is her father, you would have done the same if that had been your father Glóin ,” Aragorn said while arranging blankets and pillows for everyone to rest. “Legolas, see if you can find something for us to drink. After everything we all have been through we may need a way to help us sleep.” Nodding his head Legolas placed his and Anya’s traveling packs on the ground and walked over to another Lorien elf. Just as he was opening his mouth to ask the elf permission to go and get some elven wine, a scream pierced the night air.

“Anya,” a soft whisper of worry escaped his lips. “Please…..” He struggled against himself. One part of him wanted desperately to beg Nifilath to allow him passage to his cousin, but the other half knew that he would only be in the way.

“Yes?” Nifilath asked. The look on his face was of understanding.

“Wine, please,” Legolas finally murmured, his brow creased as he looked off into the night as one final agonizing scream pierced the night.

~Aragorn~

“If only I hadn’t been so ignorant,” Aragorn scowled to himself. He knew the difference in wounds just from smelling them. He should have noticed her wound, but his grief had clouded his judgment. “And that may have cost yet another life of a companion.” He pondered in his head how he could have let something such as this slip paced his keen sense. Being a ranger, he had mastered many skills, and smelling blood from many feet away had been one of them. Had his grief really have blinded him so, or had it been something else?

~Sam~

“Is there any of that summer sausage left in there Sam?” Merry asked as he settled into his blankets. “I know it seems rude, but stomach a ball of worry and I was hoping for something to nibble on to help settle it.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Pippin whispered.

“I don’t know,” Merry answered gravely.

“Her screams made me nothing but nerves,” Sam said sullenly. “I wish there was something we could do for her…………. something we could have done for Gandalf.”

At this the hobbits fell silent, their sorrow still all too fresh, and with the added addition that Anya may not pull through only enlarged their grief. Sam pondered on Gandalf, of his marvelous smile, his stern voice, and wondrous fireworks. Softly throughout the trees, elves, male and female, could be heard singing soft and sweet.

“What are they saying?” Merry asked as Legolas went to pass them, a silver pitcher in his hands.

“I do not have the heart to tell,” Legolas answered, his eyes gazing off into the distance before turning back to the hobbits. “For me the grief is still too near.”

“They should do a bit about his fireworks. “ Sam stated before rising to his feet. “The finest rockets ever seen burst in colors of blue and green, then after that were silver showers that came falling like a rain of flowers. Oh no, that doesn't to them any justice.” And with that he crouched back down to the ground.

~Legolas~

“Aragorn, I was given this,” Legolas said handing Aragorn the silver pitcher with the light colored elven wine.

“We should pass it around, it may help some of us to sleep,” Aragorn said pointedly to Legolas, also motioning over his shoulder to Boromir, who was sitting to himself against a tree.

~Boromir~

Her scream, that agonizing scream, kept reverberating around Boromir’s mind along with the haunting words that had been spoken only in his mind by that elven queen. Hope, it was something he hadn’t truly felt in a long time, something he never thought he would feel again. All he knew was pain and death, a constant battle of never ending bloodshed. But he always held his head high for his men, his father, but most of all, his little brother.

~Aragorn~

A leaf crunched under his foot as he walked over to Boromir, a small cup of wine in hand.

“Take some rest.” Aragorn said handing Boromir the cup. “These borders are well protected.”

“I will find no rest here.” Boromir said, grabbing the cup from him without a second thought. “ I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, even now, there is hope left, but I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope.” He paused a moment to take a small sip from the cup. “ My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing, and our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored. Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?

Aragorn inclined his head, “I have seen the White City, long ago.”

“One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard will take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned.” Boromir said with slight enthusiasm, but Aragorn could see the doubt in his watery eyes. Boromir gazed back toward the entrances to the grove, where Anyanesta had been lead off. “I worry for her. I promised I would keep her safe in those mines, but she was too busy saving me.”

“She is an elf Boromir,” Aragorn said placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “they are hard to defeat, and even harder yet to kill.” Boromir only gave him a troubled look.
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Hello, it has been a while but here is another long awaited chapter:)