Title: Lumbulëssë Caita Estel

Meaning: In Shadows Lies Hope
Pairing: n/a
Type:
Rating: PG

Note: This is going up in honor of Girl-chama 'neechan, who has always encouraged me and provided much constructive criticism when I felt my stories were lacking in something. Happy Birthday, GC-neechan!

Disclaimer: Anything owned by me will be duly noted. Until such a time, you may safely assume that everything belongs to someone else.

Warnings: Usagi is NOT betrayed by any senshi. She does NOT realize "how the senshi really are", and will NEVER realize how wonderful they are. She does NOT dump Mamoru, and Mamoru does NOT dump her. She does NOT gain new powers. She does NOT go to another dimension. She does NOT run off into the Wild Blue Yonder with the Outer senshi. Come to think of it, she's not even in this. If you have a problem with this, then leave; otherwise your prerogative is furthermore inane.

Boromir Departs, Another Enters

A mighty horn sounded through the trees of Fangorn. The Ents heard it, but they did not stir. No Ent had been roused in many hundreds of years, as it was not their way to be involved in the affairs of others. One, however, who lived with the Ents but was not of their kind – an Elf yet not an Elf, a human yet not a human – was very near to the horn and did stir to see what was happening.

"Hoom, hom ... It is not wise to hastily rush into the situations of others," Treebeard had advised.

"Then I will go cautiously," she had replied, "But I must know what is happening to Fangorn."

"Truly you posses the haste of Men, but the caution of Elves," Treebeard had sighed, "It is best to be rid of those hasty instincts, but yes, go. Bring back news."

"I will."

She had flitted off through the trees of her home, those many days ago, and had since been following the Fellowship of nine. She had witnessed the two little men separate from their party, brought on by the actions of one foolish, hasty human. She had seen him try to apologize. She now heard him and the other two little men fighting. The sounds of his horn grew weaker and more desperate.

"Burárum!" she spat, "Those vile creatures are everywhere nowadays! What business have they in Fangorn? Following this Fellowship? Or merely to cut down Ents and trees as they please for entertainment?"

The horn stopped.

Many Orcs lay dead on the ground when she finally reached the fighting grounds. The human who had been the cause of the Fellowship's scattering lay, resting it seemed, leaning on a tree. On closer inspection, she realized that three Orc arrows pierced his skin and the horn lay in two pieces near him. His sword lay at his side. He had died fighting, as Men often believed they should.

"But what business could he have had here?" she muttered, kicking aside the dead Orc bodies as she made her way to him.

He stirred as she neared, and her hand immediately went to the knife hidden under her gray cloak. She stopped to watch him, for once heeding Treebeard's advice and taking her time to assess the situation. His eyes opened to stare fuzzily at her, and at once she knew he was dying. His companions would arrive too late. Immediately she moved to stand at his side, for it was her opinion that no one should have to die alone.

"I have seen your face before," she murmured to herself, "Long ago, by the years of Men. You were but a boy then, Boromir of Gondor, son of the Steward."

"Forgive me, I did not see," he said slowly, though he did not remember her. His eyes seemed to look through her, rather than at her. "I have been the cause of all this. I tried to take the Ring, and have driven off our Ring-bearer. I have paid." His eyes closed wearily for a minute as he spoke again. "The little ones: the Halflings: they've been taken. I do not think they are dead, for they were bound and carried off."

"By Orcs?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

"Aye, by Orcs," his eyes opened, blazing hate for the Orcs and himself, "I have caused all this pain. Oh, forgive me."

Feeling unbearable pity and grief for the man, she moved to kneel over him and brushed some of the hair from his face, gently. Then she made as if to take out the arrows that pierced his body, but he put up a hand to stop her.

"No. Leave them, for I am done. It is over: My people in Minas Tirith shall fall. I have failed."

"Would it were that all could fail so gloriously, then," she replied, "Nay! you have not failed! Rest easy, now, for your companions will be found, your people will be saved. I promise."

"You must be related to the Lady Galadriel, fair one," he smiled weakly, "I shall indeed rest easy having your words to go with me."

"Lady Galadriel!" she gasped, "You know her?"

But the man spoke no more, though he nodded and tried to, for his breath came in short gasps. She smiled bravely, kindly, masking her disappointment in the face of his pain, holding a finger to his lips to prevent him from talking. She lay her other hand on his temple, brushing his hair lightly.

"Hush now," she said gently, "Be at peace. The one you call Aragorn will come soon, he will not let your people fall, and I will help him."

"Thank you ... Elf-sister ... " he sighed, and he breathed no longer.

Bitter tears stung her eyes as she reached forward to close his sightless ones, then bent her head in silent grief. Even as she kissed his brow, she could hear the Ents' disapproving words to her actions. She had always been a creature of emotion and haste, as they liked to remind her, despite all the time she'd spent among them.

"Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath," Makoto intoned softly, and lowered her eyes.

"Stand back from the mighty Boromir," ordered male's voice.

She stiffened, then slowly stood, not turning to face the man. Her sharp hearing picked up the sounds of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

"What have you done to Boromir? Where are the good Halflings?" he demanded.

"I have done nothing to Boromir, but to comfort him in his passing," she replied, "Here lies a brave and valiant man."

"You are either clever with words and in contact with the Orcs, or you are sincere. I am unsure as to which it is."

"Burárum! Orcs?" she hissed, hand gripping at her dagger, "You dare accuse me of siding with Orcs! When they have come into my forest, as you have, and cut down both tree and Ent without a care?"

"We have not cut down any tree."

"But you have trespassed into my home."

"We did not know."

"Not many do."

"Will you not turn around, then, and let me see your face," the man now asked, "So that I may know whose home I have wandered into?"

There was a long pause where she seemed to be considering his proposition. But before she could answer, two others ran into the clearing where they stood, but stopped almost immediately.

"We have hunted and slain many Orcs in the woods, but we should have been of more use here! Alas! What has happened here?" cried a new male's voice, and Makoto wondered why she thought the sound was familiar.

"Frodo is nowhere to be seen, neither is Sam. Where are Merry and Pippin? Why does Boromir lie there?" asked another, then the noticed the cloaked figure, "Who is this? And what business does he have here?"

"Peace, Gimli, peace. Let him speak first," said the other.

She smirked and sighed internally. 'If they only knew, they would not be so quick to call me male.'

"I would listen to your council readily, Legolas, however -- "

"Legolas?" she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself, "Son of King Thranduil?"

All talking stopped suddenly and gave way to a surprised silence. She stiffened again, cursing herself for once again not listening to Treebeard. Light footsteps walked nearer to her.

"I am Legolas of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil, yes," said a kindly voice, "Who are you? Why are you here? How do you know of me?"

She turned around, slowly, wary of Aragorn and the axe wielding Gimli. Instantly she became aware that the three had suffered grievous loss, and knew it well. She looked into the clear blue, Elven eyes of Legolas. For his part, Legolas stared back; he looked confused and tired and worried.

"I am here because this is my home. I know you, for you are the son of one who was a friend to my father, long ago. I am ... " she paused, trying to decide whether to give her real name or not. Finally she chose to give it; Legolas was her Prince, after a fashion. She tossed back her hood with a flick of her head, letting reddish-brown hair, tied into a messy thing on the back of her head that looked like a pony's tail, fall over her shoulders. "I am Makoto, daughter of Naoko and Erufailo," she said.

Legolas frowned thoughtfully; replacing one of his long knives as he did so. Gimli and Aragorn watched the two with interest, but always Gimli had his axe ready, should this Makoto decide to attack his friend.

"Then I am at a loss as to how you know me. I know the name Erufailo, but Naoko and Makoto are a mystery to my mind, and I knew nothing of Erufailo having a child," Legolas finally confessed.

Rather than becoming angry or embarrassed, to their surprise, Makoto inclined her head and laughed lightly. Then she looked at them with a grave expression.

"No, I did not expect you to know me. I have not been to Mirkwood, Imladris, or Lothlórien in many years. I would expect that it became forbidden to speak of me, at some point," a far away look came to her eyes, one of sadness, but it was quickly banished, "But this is not the time to speak of such things. The Orcs do not easily tire, and they must have orders for the Halflings you speak of to be kept alive, or to search for them would be in vain."

"Then they are alive?" Aragorn asked, lowering his sword.

"Aye, if what your late comrade says is true," she replied, drawing her cloak about her, "But come! You must need hold a parting for him, I shall set off to find your friends."

"Just a minute! How do we know you won't go sneaking off?" Gimli asked suspiciously, stepping closer, "Though you claim to know Legolas, I see no reason to trust you, yet."

Makoto studied him carefully, before nodding with a slight smile. "You should get on well with the Ents, I think," she mused out loud, "You are not hasty in your actions nor judgments. True, you have no reason to trust me, but to tarry here on suspicion alone is foolish! I cannot offer proof to ease your mind, but I can give you my word that no harm shall come to you or to your friends."

A breeze filtered through the woods at that moment and seemed to fill Makoto's eyes with an ancient knowledge and sincerity that was common to Elves. Gimli gaped, for he suddenly saw she bore slight resemblance to the Lady Galadriel (though nowhere near as fair was this Makoto to Galadriel), and he nodded.

"You speak fairly, as only an Elf can, to my thinking," he said in approval, "I will place my trust in you until you give me reason to do otherwise."

She nodded, favoring him with a larger smile. "That is kind of you, Master Dwarf, and I shall not give you reason to mistrust me. But as I said, it is foolish to tarry here. Boromir, you called him – he fell defending the Halflings."

"The Halflings!" cried Gimli, "Where are they then? Where is Frodo?"

"Frodo?" she asked, "Who is he?"

"He is our Ring-bearer," Aragorn answered, "I have not seen Sam either; he must have gone with his master. They are hobbits, or Halflings, as Merry and Pippin are."

Makoto nodded solemnly and when she answered, she sounded weary. "I do not know where they are. Your Boromir told me that Orcs have bound them, and he did not think they were dead. We must go after them."

"First we must tend to the fallen," said Legolas. "We cannot leave him lying like carrion among these foul Orcs."

"But we must be swift," said Gimli. "He would not wish us to linger. We must follow the Orcs, if there is hope that any of our Company are living prisoners."

"But we do not know whether the Ring-bearer is with them or not," said Aragorn. "Are we to abandon him? Must we not seek him first? An evil choice is now before us!"

Makoto had been silent, but now she interrupted their debate. "I will go after your hobbit friends while you tend to Boromir. I shall leave a trail behind me; you will easily be able to follow it. As for your Ring-bearer, he has gone on. With the other hobbit you spoke of. I saw their boat sail away. They are safe."

A visible ease passed over the faces of the three males and Makoto had to resist the urge to smile; for this was no time for laughter. Legolas studied her out of the corner of his eye, finally realizing that she had the same pointed ears as he!

'So she is an Elf ... but why then would I not know of her? Why would her name be forbidden?' he thought, frowning slightly.

"Do first what you must do," Makoto said into the silence. "Though you have not the time or the tools to bury this man fitly, you must at least build a cairn."

"The labor would be hard and long: there are no stones that we could use nearer than the water-side," said Gimli.

"Then let us lay him in a boat with his weapons, and the weapons of his vanquished foes," said Aragorn, looking to Makoto. "We will send him to the Falls of Rauros and give him to Anduin. The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature dishonours his bones."

Makoto nodded approvingly at them and smiled mysteriously. Her cloak still drawn about her, she nodded to them once more, then seemingly disappeared. The three males looked about warily, suspecting foul play, but were put to ease by her voice coming from the treetops.

"I am off. Be swift, but not hasty. Follow the birds, they will lead you to me."

"She is right," Aragorn said slowly, "We must do this now. See! Here we find tokens!"

He held up two blades that had caught his eye from a pile of Orc weapons. They were leaf-bladed and damasked in gold and red. Searching further into the pile, he also found the sheaths, black and set with small red gems.

"No orc-tools are these!" he said. "They were borne by the hobbits. Doubtless the Orcs despoiled them, but feared to keep the knives, knowing them for what they are: work of the Westernesse, wound about with spells for the bane of Mordor. Well, now, if they still live, our friends are weaponless. I will take these things, hoping against hope to give them back."

"I do not think you need hope against hope, friend," Gimli said, gazing off to where Makoto had stood. "Something tells me in my heart that they will be delivered alive."

Legolas too looked where Gimli stared, wondering why the half-Elf maid would be living here of all places. He frowned thoughtfully, but turned to Aragorn. "Take the knives, and I shall look for arrows. My quiver is empty."

He searched the pile that Aragorn had found the hobbits knives in, but found no arrows that were undamaged. Then he searched through the bodies of other Orcs lying about and found a few arrows uncannily like his own. He looked at them closely, brow creased in thought. Aragorn looked among the slain Orcs and kicked some of them over.

"Here lie many who are not folk of Mordor. Some are from the North, from the Misty Mountains, if I know anything of Orcs and their kinds. And here! Here are others who are strange to me. Their gear is not after the manner of Orcs at all."

He pointed at four goblin-soldiers that were greater in stature and had thicker arms and leg and large hands. Their weapons were bows made of yew and broad bladed swords, rather than the scimitars that Orcs usually wielded. Their shields had a white hand in the center of them, and their helms were set with an S-rune made of some white metal.

"I have not seen these tokens before," Aragorn said, puzzled, "What do they mean?"

"S is for Sauron! That is easy to read!" Gimli said.

"Nay," Legolas said softly, "Sauron does not use Elf-runes."

"Neither does he use his right name. Nor does he permit it to be spelt, nor spoken," Aragorn sighed. "And he does not use white. The Orcs in his service wear the sign of the Red Eye. S must be for Saruman. There is evil afoot in Isengard, and the West is no longer safe. It is as Gandalf feared: by some means the traitor Saruman has had news of our journey. This means that he likely knows of Gandalf's fall."

"Well we have no time to ponder riddles," said Gimli, impatiently, "Let us bear Boromir away! He should not have to linger too long on the ground!"

"Yes. But after we must guess the riddles, if we are to choose our course rightly," returned Aragorn.

"Maybe there are no right choices," said Gimli.

"Do you listen to yourselves!" cried Legolas, "Have you forgotten the Elfling? She is already on their trail! Do not stand here arguing over riddles, we must hurry to follow her!"

"You are right Legolas, but remember her words. 'Be swift, but not hasty', she said," the Dwarf said, but even as he spoke he took up his axe to cut branches, lashed together with bowstrings, to make a bier. They laid their cloaks on it, and carried Boromir to the shoreline upon it, with those trophies of his last battle as they chose to send him with. Aragorn stayed with the body of Boromir while Legolas and Gimli went back to find the boats. They came back nearly half an hour later, paddling two boats swiftly along the shore.

"Here is a strange tale to tell," said Legolas. "There are only two boats upon the bank. We could find no trace of the other."

"Have Orcs been there?" asked Aragorn.

"There were no signs of them," answered Gimli. "And Orcs would have taken or destroyed all the boats, and the baggage as well."

"Then truly Frodo and Sam have sailed away. They must have reached the eastern-shore while we held counsel with Makoto," said Aragorn as they laid Boromir in the middle of the boat that was to bear him away.

They laid his elven-cloak under his head and arranged his long hair on his shoulders. The golden belt of Lórien still gleamed about his waist. His helm was set beside him and the shards of the horn were laid upon his lap, with the hilt and bits of his sword. Beneath his feet were placed the swords of his enemies. Then they set the boat into the water, where it was taken by the stream and over the falls of Rauros. They watched the boat, standing as they were on the shore, silently for a while. Suddenly a gaggle of small white and brown birds appeared, twittering at them. The remaining company stared at them, torn between going after their Ring-bearer and after Merry and Pippin.

"Frodo is gone," said Aragorn. "And Sam with him. If we seek them, we abandon the captives to torture and death. No, the Company has played its part. The fate of the Ring-bearer is in our hands no longer. I will follow the Orcs and the Elfling, may she lead us true. Come! Leave behind all that can be spared; we travel light!"

They drew the last boat on to the shore and laid what they did not need of their belongings under it. Then they turned to look at the little, chattering birds.

"'Follow the birds'," Legolas said quietly. He looked up at his companions, "Why then do we wait here? Lead on, little birds!"

The birds cocked their tiny heads at him and, as if they understood, they took off, one by one, flying north. Though the trail of the Orcs needed little skill to find, Makoto was much more refined in her movements, and they would need the birds to know where to meet her.

"No other folk make such a trampling," said Legolas. "It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way."

"Indeed, for that is was Makoto was angry at me for," Aragorn chuckled grimly. "They go with a great speed for all that and they do not tire. If Makoto cannot, we may later have to find our path in the hard bare lands."

"Well, after them!" said Gimli. "But it will be a long chase: they have a long start."

"She will not fail," said Legolas, "she is an Elf. She moves as we do and is unhindered by packs as we are. If we are not careful, we shall wind up chasing her rather than Orcs."

Makoto swung from tree to tree, cursing mildly when her cloak caught on branches from time to time. She hummed to herself, a song in a very distant language that her mother had spoken, kicking off from a branch and grabbing another.

"Chi no hate made, kizutsuite mo, tatakau dake saa. Shinjiru nara, motomeru nara, tsukamitoru dake. Toikakete mo, toikakete mo, kuzurenai nara. Sore ga ... seigi da."

Pausing for breath in one of her trees, Makoto surveyed the surrounding forest, listening for any noise of the Orcs. Very faint sounds of marching could be heard from a long distance ahead of her. Groaning inwardly but not really daring to step up her pace too much, Makoto began branch hopping once again.

"The Burárum do not tire, and that is a shame," she thought. "Now I shall have to keep up my pace, and I will not be able to deliver the news to Treebeard. Better not to send news than leave the hobbits to the Orcs, though."

She jumped to the ground and landed with barely a sound, stepping lightly for a while. Eventually she stopped at a clearing.

"Yes, they should make their camp here for the night. They will reach it. But how to leave them a sign? Hmm ... I suppose I could ... no, I couldn't do that! Unless ... "

Makoto sighed and walked up to a tree that was shedding some of its bark. Placing a gentle hand on it, she spoke, switching to the language of the Elves. The tree shuddered under her hand and a piece of the bark fell into it.

"Thank you."

Quickly scratching a few Elf-runes onto the bark with the tip of her knife, Makoto set it in a tree branch where they would find it with some help from their bird friends. Cocking her head, she heard the sounds of one of the seven coming down to land on her shoulder. She grinned and stroked the little bird's head and allow it to rest before whispering its new instructions and sending it flying again.

"Take care, little one," she whispered. Then she was up into the trees again, and off to find the hobbits.

It was nightfall when Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli came to the clearing Makoto had set aside for them as a camp. The little bird that flew ahead landed on the branch with the bark piece and chirped, and another one continued flying. Legolas took the message and held it aloft.

"Look! She leaves a message -- we must stay here until dawn breaks. She is too far a head to join us tonight," he said.

"You can read all that from those few Elf-runes?" Gimli asked.

Aragorn sighed internally and walked around the camp, trying to find the orc-trail. For a moment he was at a loss for the orc-trail descended into the valley, and vanished.

"Which way would they turn, do you think?" said Legolas, ignoring Gimli. "Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward, towards the Entwash?"

"They will not make for the river, whatever mark they aim at," said Aragorn, "and unless there is much amiss at Rohan and the power of Sauron is greatly increased, they will take the shortest way they can find over the fields of the Rohirrim. We shall continue northwards, or whichever way the birds will take us."

Owari - chapter one

Well, how do you like it? Please review!

Other Notes: The song that Mako-chan sings at one point is actually WuFei's song, Grasp The Truth, which means that it's not mine. Translation runs as follows: I would only fight, even though I was hurt, to the end / I would only grasp it if I believe it in the end and if I'm searching for it / If it doesn't collapse even if I ask questions / Then that is justice

Hey, what can I say? It seems like something she would sing to lift her spirits =-= And as for her little Elvish phrase after Boromir's death, that translation is thus, as according to the most reliable source on the web:

Hiro hon hîdh ab 'wanath

Hiro (let) hon (he) hîdh (peace; lenited form of sîdh) ab (after) 'wanath (death; lenited form of gwannath)

Let him find peace after death