Let the Bond Remain Unbroken

Author ~ Aldalas

E-mail ~ TheInsaneElvenMystReforged@yahoo.com  (This is my new one ~ the other one on my previous story isn’t working anymore. Thanks!)

Feedback ~ *begging* please do! I love hearing what you think! Questions, comments, insults, threats ~ just do me a favor and break me gently, ok?

Disclaimer ~ You all know how it goes. I don’t own anything. Nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! *sob* Oh how I wish it were possible! Wait . . . it is, isn’t it? *grins* Sorry guys, but this was writen for enjoyment only. All recognisable charactures from Tolkien’s Middle Earth are his, any others where made up by me.

~ Also, just know that I am NOT a slash writer! Anything you read is 100% friendship, and it’s nothin’ BUT friendship. So please, don’t question it, and humor me by keeping our minds outa the gutter, ok? Thank you!

Rating ~ PG-13  (warnings of extreme torture and even a little angst ~ proceed with caution J )

Summary ~ During a hunting trip in the forests around Mirkwood, Aragorn and Legolas are attacked by a wolf and a party of orcs. In the fight, Aragorn is badly wounded and Legolas hurries to get him home to Rivendell, all the while blaming himself. Within the walls of Rivendell Aragorn recovers, but Legolas comes down with a mysterious poison that the elves do not recognize. To save his friend, Aragorn must return to where they were attacked to find out what he can about the poison. But time is running out, and soon after the young ranger leaves home, he discovers that there is much more to the poison than he thought . . . and he’s not the only one after it’s only possible cure.

Warnings ~ This story is very serious for the most part, so don’t be decieved by my feeble attempts to be funny. It’s to lighten the mood to come!

~Along the story line there is going to be full of both serious and fluffly moments, so if you think I overdid it, I apologize now. I wrote as though Legolas and Aragorn are both emotionally healthy, though it might be slightly contrary to popular belief.    ;o)

~ I made my own interpretations of how Aragorn’s parents died, and I’m going along the lines that Cassia and Sio use ~ that they both died when he was two.

~Also, I have an unbreakable love for animals, especially horses, so you’re gonna see a lot of different sides! And for the sake of the story, animals do have voices! (Yup, this is brought to you right from my very strange and warped imagination. :0) )

Dedication ~ To those who read it and love it for what it is, rather than what it could have been.

Special Thanks ~ My widdle sissy and older brother for being my major critics, my widdle brother for giving me ideas for fight scenes, Cassia and Sio for their amazing stories, all you wonderful writers out there who have inspired me *sooo* much, and anyone who’s even bothering to read this! Hannon le, mellon nins! Let us all die of shock, I’m actually doing it . . .

Elvish Translations ~ these will look like this ~>

“Mellon nin”

~My friend~

They have the funky ~ ~ things :0)

Ok, enough of me blabbing and rambling ~ on with the story! Please, ENJOY!!!

<~~^~~>

PART 1

He rolled over again under his cloak, causing pine needles and leaves under him to rustle and crack beneath him.  His companion groaned, unable to find sleep as easily as usual, and his friend’s constant movement on the other side of the slowly dying fire was keeping it that way. The elf’s sharp ears again heard his friend seemingly settle again, and listened to the horses shift their weight in their sleep. He again desperately wanted to slip into unconsciousness, but everything he heard seemed intent that he stay awake.

Finally giving up all hope of sleep, the elf sat up off his blanket and pulled his cloak more firmly around him, keeping out the chill of the still night air and moved closer to the crackling fire. It had been a long day. They had set out going hunting ~ since Aragorn was still learning and developing his skill with a bow and arrow, and game was on the move to beat the coming winter months, they decided to go on a trip. With winter on their way, food needed to be stocked so it was the perfect opportunity.  The day had started out fine, riding deeper into the forests around Mirkwood toward the Misty Mountains, trying to find a good place to begin. Having mastered the skill of moving through the trees without being seen or heard, they left their horses, and tracked down a full grown stag. Legolas smiled, remembering the event. Aragorn was doing better, but still was having problems with aim. They had approached the animal downwind so that it wouldn’t catch their scent, and got to be only a few feet away. Aragorn notched his bow, aimed, fired, and missed . . . by about two feet. The stag shied in fear, and ran, quickly disappearing before Aragorn had time to react. Legolas had barely managed to keep a straight face as he watched Aragorn curse his aim . . . again.

Legolas watched Aragorn turn over again in the light of the fire and laughed softly. He was so restless that night. The hunting had been successful ~ they were both satisfied, but tired. Aragorn let out a soft sigh and turned over again, facing the fire and the elf. He opened his eyes and looked unfocused at the fire, and saw his friend in the light. He grinned, and then sat up.

“Why are you still awake, Legolas?” he glanced up at the star-filled sky, and detecting the position of the moon, determined that it must have been no later that about midnight.

“Why? Because of you, my friend!” Legolas grinned. “Your constant tossing and turning made me give up all hope of sleep! You, the horses, and every noise in the forest, even the silence, has kept me awake.”

Aragorn smiled sheepishly. “You know, you can just wake me up and tell me! But then again my sleep and my dreams has been quite restless, it would only be a matter of time before I would join you.”

“Sure you would.” Legolas said with a teasing grin, earning himself an annoyed smile from his friend. He laughed softly, letting Aragorn know that he was only teasing him, and soon they were both laughing together.  As the fits died down, they both stopped and listened. A long mournful cry echoed in the still night air, long and deep in the quiet of the night. Legolas recognized the cry right away, having heard it many times in these woods ~ it was a wolf. He turned his head to the right, guessing where the wolf was. Without fully turning his head back, he looked at Aragorn, listening for the wolf’s voice to die down, and smiled evilly.

“Spooky, isn’t it?” he said in a low voice that did not match the look on his face.

Aragorn looked at him and returned the evil smile with one of his own. “Scared?”

Legolas laughed. “Oh yes, very much!” he grinned sarcasticly. Aragorn grinned back impishly.

“It seems I can never get a full night’s sleep with you! Neither one of us can sleep, it’s the middle of the night, and then you try to scare me. Did you really think a wolf’s howl could get me going so easily?” he studied Legolas with a mocking stern glance that looked remarkably like Elrond’s, trying not to laugh again.

“You look like your father.” Legolas grinned back, returning a look of equal seriousness. “No way would I try to scare you! I don’t think I’m that brave to provoke a Ranger! I’d have to be crazy . . .” Legolas was laughing by then, unable to continue, and soon Aragorn joined in. As the laughter died away, Aragorn laid back down on his blanket and faced the sparkling sky, and opened his mouth to ask the elf a question, but he never got there. For right then, a loud snap made them both jump.

Instinct took over thought.  Legolas whipped around, snatched up his bow, and from out off his quiver, an arrow. Loading his bow, he glanced at Aragorn, who had also reached behind him and unsheathed his long sword, and pulled out a sharp knife. They both stopped moving, listening for any noise that would let them know what and where their intruder was. The horses,  of whom had been awoken by all the laughing, where stamping and snorting softly and restlessly, clearly uneasy, which heightened the tension in both Legolas and Aragorn. Legolas could hear something moving ever so slowly and carefully in the shadow of the trees. He inwardly chastised himself for not paying attention, and by the look on Aragorn’s face, the human was doing the same thing. The creature was so close they could both hear the soft breathing, and see the gleam of the yellow eyes shinning in the light of the moon.

“Ok, what do you want to do now?” Aragorn whispered.

“Wait until we know what it is.”

The animal came closer; it’s powerful legs slinking through the grass, hidden in the trees. There was not another sound ~ it seemed to them that the loud snap they had heard was purely chance, complete coincidence.  Aragorn moved over to the log pile and added more fuel to the dying flames, and increased the light. The animal’s features heightened. They were unmistakable  ~ it was a wolf. The fur was a blackish grey-blue. It’s powerful body moved stealthily toward them; yellow eyes watched them carefully. Large jaws released its worst weapon as it curled its lips, revealing long sharp teeth, gleaming in the firelight. But there was something different. This wolf was huge. It could have easily taken down one of their horses, or them. Worry etched it’s lines on their faces.

“Ok, go after him.” Legolas told Aragorn.

“Why? You have a bow ~ just shoot him.”

“I can’t. See how closely he’s watching us? He’d bounce away from my arrow. Go on, get after him.”

“Ok, so I’ll be away from the light of the fire and he’ll kill me. I can’t combat in the dark that easily, you know that!!”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Aragorn. Just go after him. I’ll cover you.”

“WHO’S A BABY!? Who doesn’t want to risk one stupid arrow? I’d rather not risk my life, thank you very much!”

“You won’t be! It’s an over-sized dog! Just get over there and cut its throat! I’ll be right here to help!”

“And how do you know that it’s gonna be so easy? What about thick hides? Or look at the teeth! Why don’t you just get out your knives and get after him yourself?”

“All right, I will!” Legolas retorted, pulling the elven knives from their sheathes. As he did so before Aragorn could shoot out another insult, he faintly could hear the sharp piercing cries of orcs coming.

“Oh, great! Something else to top off this perfect night.”

“What now?”

Legolas had forgotten again that he was with a human, not an elf.

“There are orcs coming. Can you hear them? They must have seen the fire and are coming to investigate. I knew we shouldn’t have camped so close to the Misty Mountains. What do you want to do?”

“Where from? I have not elf ears.”

“Over there.” Legolas said nodding in the opposite direction of where the huge wolf was. The loud cries were slowly becoming louder, and now Aragorn could hear them too.

That was their first mistake. Looking in the opposite direction of the wolf, they had let their guard down. The huge animal took its chance and ran into the campsite. It stopped in front of the fire, as if trying to decide where to start. Making up its mind, it headed for Aragorn, who, even under the surprise attack, held his sword ready in front of him. The wolf lunged and Aragorn swung, cutting deeply into the wolf’s shoulder and chest. The wolf hesitated, landing on the forest floor. He bared his teeth, and with amazing speed despite his injuries, leapt up under Aragorn’s arm and struck ~ sinking three inch teeth into Aragorn’s side, throwing the human to the ground. The scream that followed echoed loudly through the night, tearing right through Legolas. Legolas screamed too, and loosed the notched arrow, sinking it into the beast’s right eye. The wolf reared and howled in pain, than fell and lay silent. Legolas ran to Aragorn, horrified at the growing pool of red.

Aragorn didn’t move as Legolas approached. His cloak, leather coat, and shirt on the left side had been shredded into hanging rags, now being soaked with blood. Aragorn’s side was destroyed ~ the wolf had ripped apart the skin on his ribs. Legolas tossed aside his weapons, dropped to his friend’s side, and as gently as he could turned his left side up to inspect the wounds.

Legolas’ heart dropped as he made his inspections. The gashes were deep and bleeding freely. Using one of his knives he cut away the shirt to completely expose his side, grabbed his blanket from the ground, and began to try and stop the blood flow. As he did so, he again heard the orc cries, and they where much louder now. Legolas groaned. He didn’t have much time ~ he needed to get Aragorn out of there and hidden before they came. The blanket he was using was becoming soaked with blood. He grabbed Aragorn’s blanket as well and doubled the layers. As he pressed down again, Aragorn stirred and moaned.

“Aragorn?” inside Legolas begged that Aragorn would respond.

Aragorn groaned again, and immediately moved his right arm to his left side. Legolas knocked the arm away.

“Don’t touch your side, my friend. It’s still bleeding badly. Hold on for a moment.”

“Oh . . . Legolas . . . don’t worry . . . it’s only a scratch, I’m fine . . .” Aragorn said weakly, not matching his words, or opening his eyes.

“You’ve got a little more than a scratch.” Legolas couldn’t help but smile a little at the ranger’s attitude. “Hang on for a moment.” He bound the blankets to Aragorn’s side and called his horse to him. He gently picked the ranger up in his arms and set him down on Arien’s back, partly lying him down in a position that did not touch his side. He firmly tied him down to the horse’s back, and grabbing the horse’s halter led him out of the clearing into the woods. He had to hide them and deal with the orcs himself, because if they both left, the orcs would follow. He began to whisper to the horse in elvish, telling him that if the orcs got to close he would bear Aragorn away to Elrond’s house. The stallion seemed to understand, and stood ready to spring away at the first real sign of danger. Legolas ran back to the campsite, ready now to deal with the orcs alone.

He burst into the campsite. Judging by the now fully enraged orc cries he knew he had only moments to get ready. He quickly gathered any forgotten supplies and food together and hid them. He called his own horse to him, tied a few provisions to his back, and sent him to Arien. The horse headed into the trees, leaving Legolas alone. The orcs were now much to close ~ he could see dark shapes moving through the trees to him. Legolas pulled out an arrow, widened his stance, and faced the oncoming orcs. For a moment, Legolas halted and stood still, his elvish glow penetrating the night, adding to the firelight. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes; thinking of Aragorn tied to his horse not twenty feet away, and desperately wished that he would make it. He opened his eyes, adjusted his stance, and faced the oncoming and completely visible orc party. It had begun.

At first, he just picked off a few with his bow. The figures in the trees were more visible and he could tell that this was not going to be as easy.  The orcs were a larger breed and not as simple as the smaller ones.  They mostly had large battle-axes, but some had swords. There was one Orc more towards the back that was larger than the rest. He was holding an axe that had a double-sided blade bigger than most dwarves.  Most of the orcs had armor that was not penetrable by an arrow, but that didn’t stop Legolas.  He aimed directly at the neck.

As the orcs ran at this elf, they saw seven of there compatriots fall to the ground with an arrow in their neck. This elf would pay.  Deeply.

The orcs were too close now.  He dropped his bow and whipped out his trusty elven blades.  As the orcs closed in, time seemed to slow down. His friend was depending on him to keep him safe. If he had just been more alert about the wolf, his friend would be here with him.

The first one went down quickly. As the two sides began to mix, Legolas found it harder and harder to dodge, parry, and kill the orcs. As he slit the throat of one and shoved him away, another orc came from behind and wrapped Legolas in a huge bear hug, blade placed against his ribs. Mental reaction took over and Legolas flipped forward, throwing the orc over his head, but as he did so the orc pressed the blade inward. A thick deep gash was laid open over the width of his ribs, but he ignored it and bore back into the fight.

In incredible speed despite his injuries he continued to destroy his enemies, angering them the more success he had. One smaller orc managed to dodge under Legolas’ twisting arms and dig his rough knife into Legolas’ leg. Legolas inhaled sharply, turned around, and buried one bloody blade into the orc’s face.  As he watched the pitiful body crumple to the ground, he saw a white flash in the side of his vision. He immediately leaned to the side as a long blade hurtled into the air where his head had been two seconds ago. But he noticed too late – though the move saved his life, the blade cut lightly into the side of his face, and disappeared into the night.

Many of the orcs now began to retreat in fear, escaping into the surrounding woods, but the large orc in the back of the group stood his ground, fingering the huge double-bladed axe in his hands. When he saw an opportunity, he lurched forward and swung a bit wildly, cutting the air just in front of Legolas’ neck. The orc repositioned his stance, axe out in front of him, and growled evilly at the elf. Legolas’ head was spinning slightly from pain and blood loss, but still tightened his jaw and gave the orc a look of pure hatred. The orc swung again, aiming this time for Legolas’ abdomen. Expecting such a move, Legolas jumped into the air and flipped backwards, narrowly missing the sharp bite of the axe. He landed gracefully on his feet and again faced the orc, who at the moment looked shocked at the move Legolas had just pulled. But it faded quickly and the orc charged.

As though he intended to cut Legolas in two, the orc threw his axe at the elf. As he saw the hurling mass of metal thrown at him, he halfway fell backwards and watched the axe fly over him, and land harmlessly in the thicket of trees behind him. He got back into a standing position again, and threw both elven knives at the large orc, striking him in the neck and ribs. The orc fell slowly to the ground, a mixture of shock and bewilderment plastered on his face forever.

The remaining orcs watched their greatest warrior fall to the forest floor, then glared at Legolas. Now weaponless, Legolas froze, knowing that there was no way he was going to survive this. He watched the orcs charge for a second, then closed his eyes.

The next thing he was kicked in the back of his knees and thrown to the ground. The last twenty or so orcs surrounded him, placing their wicked blades on his neck, chest, and stomach, laughing at him, glad  that even in the end the elf couldn’t defeat them. Legolas clenched his fists, but held still, knowing that no matter what he wasn’t getting out alive by himself. He closed his eyes again and concentrated on one thing – “I’m sorry, Aragorn. I tried.”

Yet even as he relaxed and prepared himself for the next world, he suddenly heard hoof beats coming closer to them. The orcs, momentarily distracted, looked up at the new intruder, baring their teeth and hissing their displeasure for being interrupted.  The soft clippity-clop of a horse’s hoofs grew louder, and soon a lone dark figure raced out off the trees and into the midst of the orcs.

“Strider!” Legolas couldn’t believe it. Still tied securely to Arien’s back he charged into the clearing, raising his sword, of which he had miraculously kept a tight hold on. He raised it high into the air and Arien reared up, lashing out with his forelegs, instantly killing three orcs. Aragorn moved his horse toward the greater part of the orcs, scattering them slightly and allowing Legolas to get up and move toward the fallen orc leader to get his knives. Once again equipped with his blades, Legolas again leapt into the battle, fighting side by side with his companion, and together with Arien’s help, killed the greater part of the remaining orcs. Knowing that there was no way they were going to win now, the few remaining orcs ran out of the clearing, hissing and crying out in anger and defeat.

<~~^~~>

Legolas took a deep shuddering breath as he watched the last few orcs run out of sight in total panic. He turned to look at the ranger. Aragorn was still on Arien’s back, but barely. With the adrenaline rush over, he looked ready to fall over had his horse not been holding him up. He clutched his horse’s mane desperately, trying to regain his breath. Legolas knew he wasn’t much better off, but he had to try to help his friend, and fast.

Legolas ran to Arien’s side and helped the ranger to the ground. Aragorn winced as he was laid on the ground and closed his eyes, groaning in withering pain. Legolas flinched. He was going to be worse off now that he had fought. He positioned the ranger on his right side as before and unwound the blankets to see the damage that had been done. He groaned as he removed them. The bleeding had slackened little.  Since this time he had could longer examine the wounds, he made a through check and discovered more than he wanted to.

Razor-sharp teeth had cut though the lean skin and muscle, tearing it apart, and in some places revealing the clean, white bones of his ribs. Legolas had no time to sit ~ he set to work. He cleaned the wounds as well as he could, and with medical supplies from one of their packs tried to calm the fiery pain. He bound up his side with the blankets again ~ having nothing better to use ~ and got their things together. He saddled Arien and gently put Aragorn in front of him in the saddle. He had to get him to Rivendell quickly. He felt that Aragorn would be in better hands with Elrond than with the healers of Mirkwood. Elrond’s skill in healing far surpassed the skill of the healers of his father’s. He spoke a word to Arien, and the great horse sprang away. Legolas’s horse followed them quickly. Legolas thankfully could direct Arien with a quiet word, and could hold onto his friend with both arms.

They rode almost non-stop to Rivendell. Legolas knew the sooner they got there, the better off they both would be. He didn’t actually realize that he was seriously wounded until much later, but he couldn’t stop to help himself ~ Aragorn was slipping in and out of consciousness.  To keep a good pace, he encouraged Arien in elvish constantly, and the horse responded. He also tried to keep Aragorn’s spirits and his own up by either talking or softly singing as they raced through and out of the Misty Mountains. The ride took nearly two days and most of the second night, arriving just before dawn on the third day. Arien ran into the familiar area and stopped in front of the front door. Legolas tried to yell out for Elrond, but he was so worn from his injuries and constant riding that the noise died before it passed his lips. Fighting the throbbing in his head that threatened to overcome him, he put his head down on Aragorn’s shoulder ~ who was at the moment unconscious ~ and inhaled deeply, every fiber of him praying that someone would come and help him. Arien was breathing heavily and was trembling. Legolas patted the great horse’s sweating back and gently spoke to him in elvish without moving his head from Aragorn‘s shoulder. Suddenly they were surrounded with light ~ the front door had been thrown open. Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond ran to them. Legolas inwardly thanked them, than allowed the throbbing to claim him, passing out cold in the saddle and falling into Elladan’s open arms.

¨ ¨ ¨

PART 2

When he finally woke, it was slow. He was alive, but could hardly move. The pain in his side redoubled as he made the attempt. He finally managed to pry his eyes open, and discovered that he was no longer on Arien in his friend’s arms. Then he realized that someone was there, watching him. He looked strangely familiar in the dark room.

“Ada?” he asked groggily.

“Yes, my son. Estel, how do you feel?”

Aragorn sighed and groaned as he tried to move again ~ his side was heavily bound with soft bandages and cloths. His ribs burned with pain. He held his breath and froze, willing the pain to stop. Elrond moved forward and gently forced him back into the bed.

“Don’t try to move just yet. Those wounds need time to heal more.”

Aragorn laid back down and relaxed under the soft quilts. It was wonderful to be back in his own bed.  Elrond looked at him and smiled, but the man sensed that he was troubled about something. Then, he remembered, like a kick in the face.

“Where is he?!” anger and panic was in his voice, but there was fear in his eyes.

Aragorn’s sudden change of mood stopped his father, causing him to stare at him for a moment, but he knew whom his son was talking about.

“Ada . . . please . . .” His voice was no longer angry, but filled with fear. Elrond looked down for a moment, and then faced his son.

“He’s still unconscious. He had many untended wounds, and most were long since infected. He’s lost a lot of blood from the ride here. We found that one or more of the blades was poisoned, and it wearied him greatly. I’ve done all I can for him, but I’m not sure . . .” he trailed off, having no need to finish the sentence. Aragorn’s hands covered his face.

“No…please, no…” he whispered. He did that for me! How can I repay him if he dies for me?

“Ada,” he suddenly looked up at the elf lord with a look on his face often seen. “Does he have a chance?”

Elrond recognized the familiar glow of hope in the man’s eyes, and smiled again. “There is always hope.”

¨ ¨ ¨

Aragorn sat back in his chair and sighed fearfully. Nearly a week had passed since his long ride to Rivendell, and he had not yet woken. His eyes remained closed, while his face was sweat-streaked. His entire body was very cold to the touch. Legolas shuddered helplessly, tortured by some unknown cold.

As soon as Elrond would allow him to move, Aragorn went to see Legolas as much as his father would let him. For the first time Aragorn could see the real damage the elf had endured to keep his friend safe. Gashes covered his arms, upper torso, and back, some deep enough to reveal his ribs. Along his right thigh there was a long horrible mark that had been laid open to the bone. On the right side of his face, there was a long, but not dangerously deep cut that started at his forehead, moved down next to his hairline, in front of his ear, and ended at his chin. All had been well tended and thickly layered with clean bandages. Aragorn moved his chair closer to his friend’s bedside and groped for his hand, pulling it close, and he noticed how the hand was so cold. He put his head down on the quilt, placing his head between his arms, and squeezed Legolas’ hand, trying to give his friend something to hold onto. Grimly he tried to watch over his friend, until moments later sleep finally reached out to claim him.

¨ ¨ ¨

“By your side, scared to death

Felt the pain, you were fighting

Placed my palm on your head

Spoke your name, just keep trying.”

~Jeff Carlson “Real Life”

<~~^~~>

Trapped.

He had been awake for a while, but could not even find the power to open his eyes. He felt frozen to the bone. He hated the weakness and vulnerability that had overtaken him. The pain was everywhere ~ he could feel it as it became deep and harsh, so overpowering. He almost wished that it would end. But then, he felt something gently squeeze his hand.

Aragorn? he thought.

He could not make his mouth work. Yet even as he tried to speak, he felt strength flow through him from the gentle hand that held his own. Ever so slowly, he managed to crack open his eyes, and take in his surroundings.

The room was dark, except for a single light burning in the corner near him. His eyes fell on the dark shape next to him. He was asleep and had pulled Legolas’ hand close to himself, clasping it tightly in his own. He was in a strange position ~ he wasn’t wearing a shirt as it aggravated his injuries, so the thick bandages on his side were quite visible as Aragorn leaned on his right side to keep the pressure off his left. Legolas inwardly groaned when he saw it, still haunted with the thought that that injury was his fault. He closed his eyes again, and then, gathering what strength he had gained, he weakly squeezed his friend’s hand back.

Aragorn jerked out of his sleep when he felt the pressure in his hands. Legolas had weakly grasped his fingers, and then let go. His eyes went to his friend’s face, and watched as Legolas face began to spasm slightly. Sensing that he was waking up, Aragorn moved his chair closer and grasped his friend’s arm.

“Legolas?” he looked at his friend’s face, not daring to hope.

Legolas gulped, then nodded once, his face filled with pain.

“Legolas,” Aragorn pulled his hand closer to him, brushing the fingers across his cheek. “Legolas, please . . . please open your eyes.”

Legolas again willed the strength to do it again. He shook for a moment, then pried his eyelids open, looking into Aragorn’s eyes, and smiled faintly.

Aragorn could not find the power to speak, pressing the inside of Legolas’ hand against his cheek and covering it with his own, smiling in such relief.

“Thank the Valar you’re all right my friend.”

Legolas opened his mouth as if to speak, but Aragorn stopped him. “Tampa, dina esta. Na nefach, mellon nin. Na nefach . . . ea na qwiil.”

~Stop, stay silent. I am here, my friend. I am here . . . be at peace~

He watched Legolas’ eyes slowly become unfocused, and he knew that he was asleep again, the way he should ~ with his eyes open. Staying seated in the armchair he was in, he laid his head on the side of the bed. As he gently stroked his friend’s hand in his own, he allowed himself to fall asleep, refusing to leave Legolas’ side.

<~~^~~>

Aragorn wanted to be there when Legolas woke again. After convincing his father, he never left his friend’s bedside. His eyes remained open this time, and his face became more relaxed. Relief flooded through Aragorn, knowing his friend still had a chance.

Legolas woke that next night, not long after Elrond had checked on them for the umpteenth time. He was feeling much more alive ~ energy had returned to him, but he was still very weak and incredibly cold. He found he could not stop shuddering ~ never before had he felt more cold. Again opening his eyes was a relief, and the first person he saw was Aragorn. He sat back in his chair, working intently on a piece of paper.

“Aragorn?” the word was soft.

Aragorn jumped slightly at the sound. He looked at Legolas carefully, and gave his friend a small grin. He sat up and moved his chair closer to the head of the bed, placing the sheet of paper aside.

“How do you feel, my friend?”

Legolas tried to move, but very quickly found out the hard way that his body would not allow this without extreme pain. He held his breath, allowing the sharp pain to slowly pass.

“Legolas?!” Aragorn nearly panicked as he watched Legolas’ face cringe in pain. He didn’t want to relive the past week.

“It’s all right. Give me a moment.” Legolas again relaxed in his bed, inwardly telling himself not to move like that unless he was helped up.

“Don’t do that again!” Aragorn said, using a rather stern voice. Legolas sighed and the headache passed.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan to. Can you help me sit up?” Aragorn moved closer and carefully helped his friend into a sitting position, and sat across from him on the bed.

“You’re very cold. Are you sure your all right?” Aragorn picked up a blanket from the edge of the bed and wrapped it around Legolas. Legolas shuddered hard and pulled the blanket closer.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Legolas chose to ignore that one.

Now sitting up, the pain had reduced much, and Legolas eyed his friend carefully. “Aragorn, have you moved from that spot at all?”

“No, not really. I wanted to be here when you woke up. Besides, it was this or I’d be staring at my own wall. I was worried about you.”

“Are you all right?” Aragorn smiled at the old question. He touched his left side carefully. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the whiteness of the thick padding was very visible still.

“I’ll live. I don’t think Ada is going to let either of us out of his sight for a while until we’ve healed more. You’re going to be here for a while. You had him, and me, scared to death.”

Legolas shut his eyes and looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Aragorn softly replied, but Legolas shook his head.

“No, it’s not. This was all my fault. You got that injury because of me, it got worse because you helped me, you nearly died because I thought it would be better to put you in the hands of your father…” he trailed off, trying to keep his emotions under control. He turned his head away from Aragorn and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Legolas, it was not your fault.” Aragorn’s voice was quiet, but there was the ring of finality in his tone that went deep. “It was an accident. I was in the fault too. If I hadn’t provoked you in the first place, we both may have gotten the upper hand. Please, don’t blame yourself. It was not your fault.”

Aragorn reached out and touched Legolas’ shoulder. Legolas turned back and looked at him, searching his eyes. In the darkened room those silver eyes glowed at him, begging him to listen. He felt himself calm searching the deeps of Aragorn’s eyes. He could almost see the deep bond of friendship, hope, and trust reflecting inside its depths. He sighed, holding onto that power.

“I know, but that’s how I feel about it.” Aragorn smiled slightly

“We both seem to have that problem, blaming ourselves for things we cannot always control.”

Legolas too smiled slightly at that. It was often proved true. He sighed heavily, and his entire body shook. Aragorn noticed and moved behind the prince, pulling him back so he leaned heavily against the other, and tried to keep him warmer. Legolas was immediately tense under his touch.

“Relax, mellon nin, eressern marvros na buioch.” Aragorn softly began to sing, a song that had been sung much in the halls of his father, and one that was greatly loved by both of them. And Legolas slowly did relax, and eventually fell asleep, listening to Aragorn’s quiet voice echo through the room.

~My friend, I only want to help you~

Aragorn knew when Legolas had fallen asleep, but he didn’t let go, rather repositioned him so that Legolas’ head rested right under his chin, and pulled him close to his chest. He held him for a long time in that position, deep into the night. When Elrond came to check on him that’s how he found them, Aragorn sitting cross-legged against the headboard with Legolas in his arms, peace filling the room. Elrond helped Aragorn lay Legolas back down. Still not wanting to leave him, Aragorn again sat in his chair with his head on the thick quilt, and allowed his mind to sink into unconsciousness.

But Legolas never did cease to shiver helplessly from the unknown cold.

<~~^~~>

He didn’t know how long he slept, but the next thing he knew Aragorn woke up as something icy cold touched his arm. He jerked out of his sleep and looked wildly around him, trying to find what was so cold that had touched him. He glanced around him, and felt the icy chill clutch his arm tightly again. He looked down and froze. Legolas had his hand on Aragorn’s arm, slowly gripping harder. His hands were so cold, it took his breath away. Legolas’ face was very pale, his lips were blue, and he was trembling hard. Aragorn immediately felt his friend’s forehead and the sides of his face. They were freezing to the touch. Legolas’ eyes were grazed over.

“Legolas? What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Aragorn frantically tried to get him to react.

Legolas’ face was filled with pain. His skin had a faint white tint to it. Aragorn no longer hesitated.

“ELROND!!! ADA NORO!!!”

~ Father hurry! ~

Aragorn franticly yelled his father’s name down the hall. He didn’t care if he woke everyone up; he was going to get his father in here!

He was quickly in motion. He began to check Legolas for vital signs of life. He found the prince’s pulse ~  weaker than he would like and very thready, but there. His skin was cold and clammy, and he had soaked his shirt with sweat. Not wanting him to do any damage to his injuries, he removed the shirt and wrapped him in a thick wool blanket. Sitting behind the prince he pulled him close to share his body warmth and keep him from getting any colder. Legolas was shuddering violently in his arms. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering and had squeezed his eyes shut. He moved closer to Aragorn and curled into a tight ball.

Why is he so cold? What happened?

Choking back the lump in his throat he tightened his hold on Legolas. Moments later his sharp ears heard the faint sounds of elven feet running down the hall to the room. Elrond burst into the room, followed by Elladan and Elrohir. All three of them looked panicked.

“What happened?” Elrond quickly moved toward the bed and scanned his foster son’s eyes.

“Le-Le- . . . ” Aragorn could barely say his own friend’s name. But Elrond knew what he was talking about. Gently he took Legolas from Aragorn and began his inspections. Several minutes went by as he did much of what Aragorn had already done, but did more and discovered more. Confirming all the symptoms Legolas had shown, he turned and faced Aragorn again.

“It looks like it could be an after affect of the Morgul poisoning,” he said, shifting the prince’s weight in his arms, and checking the prince’s pulse again. “Since he had been infected for over two days it hit harder than what is normal. This form of an after affect is not very common, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I’ll be honest with you, Estel, I’m amazed that he made it this far this well . . .”

Aragorn was silent. He didn’t know what to say. He watched as his father took the prince’s pulse again. Legolas was still shuddering violently, but calmed slightly as Elrond began to softly talk to him in elvish. As he moved Legolas’ head to adjust one of his bandages, he noticed something. He placed Legolas’ head in one hand and moved the elf’s long blond hair aside, revealing a very small, almost insignificant thorn imbedded in the skin, right inside the hairline. He looked at it carefully, and gently removed it. The thorn was no more than half an inch long and was almost thinner than parchment. It was a dark brown, and very straight and hard, despite the fact that it had almost no volume at all.

“Elladan.” Elrond did not glance up, keeping his eyes on the thorn. Elladan moved from his spot on the floor he had occupied for the past several minutes and moved closer to the bed, stopping at his father’s feet.

“Yes, Ada?”

“Please take this and test it for any poison traces. Be careful not to touch this end.” He said, pointing at the end that had come out of the skin. Elladan, who was well taught in his father’s healing arts and poison knowledge, carefully took the thorn and left the room.

When he had gone, Elrond turned to the other twin. “Elrohir, please come here and take the prince. I need to take care of Estel.”

Elrohir too moved to the bed, sat down, and took the shuddering prince from his father’s arms and wrapped him in his own. Aragorn looked questioningly at Elrond. What is wrong with me?

He soon found out. Elrond moved toward him and lifted his arm revealing his injured side. Blood was slowly blossoming through the thick padding. Shaking his head he made Aragorn lay down on the bed so that he could tend to the reopened wounds. Most had healed, but a few of the deeper gashes weren’t completely closed yet. When Aragorn had jumped to get the blankets for Legolas several minutes ago, he had popped some of the stitches in his side, reopening the deeper tears and allowing them to bleed again. Elrond restitched the wounds and left for a few minutes to get new bandages, as the old ones had been soaked through and were now useless.

When Elrond left Aragorn glanced at Elrohir. Elrohir had wrapped his arms around the prince and held him close to keep him from getting any more chill. Legolas was still very frigid. Elrohir glanced back at Aragorn and gave him a small grin, trying to encourage his brother.

“Tithen muindor, ea benifred.” Aragorn smiled slightly and sighed, looking at the chilled, pale expression on Legolas’ face.

~ little brother, be without fear ~

“Iston. But I’m going to keep worrying until he’s all right.”

~ I know ~

As if on queue, Elladan walked back into the room. Both Aragorn and Elrohir looked at him curiously, but Elladan didn’t say anything as he quickly scanned the room and found out that Elrond was not there.

“Where is Ada?” he asked, but his voice sounded strange. Elrohir opened his mouth to reply, but had no need. Elrond walked through the door with his arms full of fresh padding, and headed to Aragorn to commence rebinding his side. Elladan followed, but didn’t say anything as he watched Elrond apply the padding and secure it in place.

When he had finished he helped Aragorn into a sitting position, and looked at his oldest. Elladan tried to look at him back, but soon had to look down. Elrond moved forward and put his fingers under Elladan’s chin and tipped it up, forcing him to look at him.

“What did you find?” Elrond asked, although by his son’s actions he didn’t really need to ask. Elladan shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, fear and worry in his breath. He faced his father.

“It was poisoned.” His voice was shaky. He glanced at Aragorn, who stared back at him. Aragorn sat stone still, unable to react in any way. Elladan’s face was filled with pain and apology. Elrond watched the exchange, then prodded his son to continue. Elladan then continued to tell his father about what he had found, but his voice had no life in it and Aragorn could tell he wasn’t finished yet. There was something else. Something worse. And it didn’t take long to find out what.

When Elrond asked him what kind of poison was in the thorn, Elladan froze. He couldn’t hold it off any longer, his time was up. He glanced at Aragorn before responding, then looked at the ground.

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize the poison.”

He had said it, and now watched painfully at the affect of his words. Aragorn froze ~ could only stare at the wall in stunned silence. Elrohir too did not move. Elrond glanced at the older twin, his face almost expressionless, but no one could mistake what he really thought. He had no reason to not believe his son. Elladan knew as much about poisons as he did. If Elladan didn’t know, there was little chance that he did.

“I am sorry.” Elladan looked away from his younger brother and stared at the wall, not believing what he had just found out to be true.

Aragorn couldn’t move. On his face was a completely closed expression; so grim it was hard to look at. Elrohir read the hidden fear for a moment as he watched him. He then gently picked up the nearly unresponsive, shuddering prince in his arms, and moved over to where Aragorn was. Aragorn didn’t even react until Elrohir was right next to him, when he stiffly moved to take Legolas in his own arms. He tightly held the prince, but the lost, one-sided expression did not leave. Legolas continued to violently shiver against him, and Aragorn could only bow his head over the prince and hold him tighter.

“Ea na qwiil, nin mellon. Maethach . . .” Legolas barely whispered the words, but Aragorn still heard them. He tightened his grip and whispered back in the prince’s ear, his face never changing.

~Be at peace, my friend. You tried . . .~

“Uuyech er, idra mellon nin. Na nefach.”

~ You are not alone, my dear friend. I am here.~

The room was very quiet after that. The only noise was Aragorn gently rocking the elf in his arms, trying to keep him conscious and letting him know that he wasn’t alone. Through all this, Elrond was very quiet, deep in thought. Elladan had said that he didn’t know the poison, but it had come from a thorn. Thorns don’t just grow; they come off a certain plant of some kind. So they needed to know what plant the thorn had come from in order to try and find an antidote. But the prince was so close to losing himself. The only reason he was still here it seemed was because Aragorn was here.

Aragorn was holding on to the prince with everything he had, just like . . . just like so many times before. So many times had they been steps away from death’s door, and each time managed to pull through. Weaker men would have long ago given up the ghost, weaker elves would have left for the sea, but never these two. Hard and bold in body and mind, they refused to give up. They both had each other to hold on to, never stopping the long and difficult fight because they both knew there was something more, something beyond the pain.

How could he make Aragorn leave when he was probably the only reason Legolas had not left for the halls of the Mandos?

But Aragorn knew where they had fought the orcs and the wolf, he was the only one who could find what they needed, but that would mean that he would have to leave Legolas to try and find out where the thorn had come from. Elrond watched his son carefully. Aragorn’s face remained stony as he gently rocked his friend. He wasn’t going to leave Legolas. Elrond sighed deeply and shut his eyes, mulling it over. He didn’t know what to do. Make Aragorn leave? He would never go willingly. What if something happened if he did? What if Legolas . . . he shuddered at the thought. No. He could never ask Aragorn to leave when it looked like his best friend would not survive much longer. But there was nothing else that they could do. It was either that, or they had no hope to find a cure for Legolas. He was already fading.

Elrond slowly moved over from his chair that he was in and sat on the bed next to Aragorn. Wrapping his arm around the human’s shoulders he gave his son a tight hug. Aragorn turned his head and rested it on his father’s shoulder, but didn’t release his hold on Legolas. Elrond waited for a few moments, then turned his head so that they were face to face.

“Aragorn,” he began, looking deeply into the silver eyes, normally bright and full of life, but now dark and cold, death like. “Aragorn, I know this is going to be extremely hard, but this may be the only way to save Legolas. You need to go back to where you were attacked by the orcs and find where the thorn came from. We need to get the plant and try to make an antidote. If we don’t find out where it came from, Legolas won’t have a chance.”

A small battle went on behind Aragorn’s eyes. Leave? Now?! What about Legolas? What if something happened while he was gone? He turned his head away from his father and shut his eyes as he thought about it. But then, what choice did he have? He had to try. He would never forgive himself if Legolas was lost and he did nothing.

He pulled Legolas closer still and again rested his head on his father’s shoulder, and for a split second he was at peace ~ he was going. He looked up into his father’s eyes.

“I will go. I have to. Just . . .” his voice caught, and grimly he choked it down. “Just give me some time with him, just in case . . . he doesn’t make it.”

Elrond nodded, and, gesturing to the twins, left the room, leaving Aragorn and Legolas alone. He gently awoke his friend from the uneasy sleep he was in and looked deep into the cloudy blue eyes.

“I have . . . to go.” Aragorn whispered. Legolas groggily nodded, having listened to pieces of the conversation that had been going on. He reached up and grasped Aragorn’s hand. Aragorn squeezed back, and then sighed as he looked at his old friend.

“Are you afraid?”

“Of death?” Legolas even in his almost delirious state gave him a weak smile, but Aragorn did not react so well.

He looked to the side and then down, his eyes blurring as he gasped painfully at the thought. Legolas squeezed his hand as tightly as he could for a few seconds.

“It’s okay.” Legolas tried to pass it off as nothing important.

“That’s not funny.” Aragorn looked back up, but his eyes were now red and his face taunt as horrifying thoughts began to consume him. Legolas looked at him for only a few moments before he too shut his eyes and sighed deeply. He finally looked back up and give Aragorn a soft, searching gaze.

“I’m afraid of being apart from all that I hold dear.”

Aragorn paused for a moment before moving forward until he was inches from Legolas’ face. Even though his face was lined with pain, his voice did not shake.

“Oh, mellon-nin, that will never happen!” he whispered softly. “Don’t give up, my friend. You need to hang on. Don’t give up.”

“Just…come back fast. I will miss you.”

“I will miss you too. I’ll come back. Garor, idra nin mellon. Garor.”

~ Hold on, my dear friend. Hold on. ~

Aragorn gently kissed the prince on his forehead. Legolas placed one hand on top of Aragorn’s head and held him against him for a moment, until Aragorn finally pulled away and gave his friend’s hand one last squeeze. He left the bed, and right before he opened the door, he looked back. Legolas weakly held up one hand, a sign of farewell. Aragorn smiled and returned the gesture, then quietly left the room and shut the door behind him.

Legolas sunk back with one last thought. Believe and you shall find your way . . .

¨ ¨ ¨

Part 3

“Are you ready?”

Aragorn looked up from his horse’s saddle. Elladan walked up next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Aragorn sighed and tightened the belt around Arien’s belly.

“Physically, yes.”

Elladan studied his younger brother for a moment. Aragorn looked worn and tired, yet determined. Only in his eyes could he really see the pain that he was feeling. There was no real fire of light in them, and it pained Elladan deeply to see it gone. Elladan squeezed Aragorn’s shoulder and turned to get his horse a few feet away. He was going to go with Aragorn to help him find what they were looking for.

Elrond walked out toward them a few minutes later. Elladan checked his mare, Hísië, over, tightening  the bridle slightly and walked over to him. Aragorn secured the last bag behind Arien’s saddle and joined them.

“Estel,” Elrond began, placing his hands on either side of his son’s face and looking at him in the eyes. “I just want you to be careful. Hurry there and find out what you can, and get back quickly. I’m giving Legolas about one week under his conditions. You have to hurry!”

“I will. I’m not going to let him die.” Aragorn moved forward and gave his father a tight hug.

Elrohir walked out and walked toward them. Aragorn let go of his father and walked to his brother. Grasping his brother’s shoulders he looked at him almost fiercely.

“Don’t leave him. Don’t let him let go.”

Elrohir smiled and pulled his younger brother into a strong embrace.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let him.”

Aragorn pulled away and smiled at him. “I know you won’t.”

Elrond came over to them. “Try to get back quickly. I know Legolas would want to see you whether or not . . . you’re successful.”

Aragorn nodded. He turned and leapt lightly onto Arien’s back. Elladan followed suit, and directed Hísië over to where Aragorn was.

Aragorn turned to his father and brother. “Namàrië. We will come back. I’m *not* going to fail him.”

Both Elrond and Elrohir smiled. “You do your best. Hurry back!” Elrond called out.

At a word from both riders, both horses sprang away, leaving Elrond and Elrohir alone next to the stables. When they had disappeared, Elrohir turned to his father.

“I’m going back to Legolas.”

Elrond nodded. “Stay with him. I’ll be in to check you later.”

Elrohir walked away and headed down the hallway to Legolas’ room. He entered the room and stopped next to the bed, pulling a chair behind him. He settled down and watched Legolas carefully. The prince was still violently shuddering, but calmer than he was before. Elrohir sighed and relaxed. Hurry Aragorn, he thought. I don’t want you to lose him.

¨ ¨ ¨

Time is a valuable thing

Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings

Watch it count down to the end of the day

The clock ticks life away

It’s so unreal . . .

~Linkin Park

<~~^~~>

He hadn’t felt so sore in quite a while. Aragorn bent over Arien’s back, trying to ease the stiffness in his muscles. Riding at a gallop all day did help put us ahead, he thought. But it can seriously render someone stiffer then wood. I can’t feel my back anymore.

“Hey Elladan! There’s a clearing up ahead.” shouted Aragorn from Arien’s back to his brother behind him. “Let’s stop there tonight and give the horses a break. We pushed them hard today.”

“Alright!” Elladan called out back. “You lead and I’ll follow.”

About five minutes later Aragorn pulled Arien to a stop and looked around. The trees were dense and clustered together here, making this a wonderful spot to camp without being seen. Just outside the clearing was a small stream, and Aragorn directed Arien in its direction, dismounted, and let the stallion drink his fill. Elladan also dismounted and let his horse walk over to the stream, and began to unload provisions from his back.

Aragorn began to brush both horses dry, then allowed them to walk wherever they wanted. For a few minutes he watched them play and begin to crop the grass. When he finally turned back to Elladan, his brother had his back to him, staring into a larger and thicker cluster of trees not too distant. Wondering what was so interesting, Aragorn walked up next to Elladan, looked at him, then the trees, then back at him. Elladan didn’t move.

“Elladan? What do you see?” Aragorn asked quietly, breaking Elladan out of the semi-daze he was in.

“Look at the over there.” Elladan pointed to a small white shape that was against a tree trunk. As Aragorn began to watch it more closely, he saw it move.

“What is that?”

“It’s a white bird…no, a white owl. He’s watching us closely.”

“A white owl?” owls were not commonly seen anywhere near Rivendell or Mirkwood. But they were around, they just preferred to remain hidden ~ a curiosity to men, and sometimes elves too. But so curious was this. Why, when owls normally only come out at night, was this one out in the fading daylight, watching them?

As if to tell the two riders that he knew they saw him, the owl began to hoot and screech loudly. The quiet mountain range around them began to ring with his loud calls. And the bad thing was – he didn’t stop.

“What is he doing? Trying to get us killed?” Elladan asked in annoyance. To any listener, loud repeated calls of an owl, or any animal for that matter, meant something’s up, and would come investigate. Around here, it would most likely attract something they’d rather not have around, like orcs, or wolves.

“We’ve got to make him stop!” Aragorn bent over and picked up a large rock off the ground, aimed, and chucked it at the owl. It would have been a direct hit . . . if the owl had not moved.

Aragorn snatched up another rock and threw it at the owl again. But as before, the owl sidestepped it and as if in response, began to hoot louder. Patience gone, Elladan reached for his bow. Not wanting to kill the owl, but rid themselves of him, Elladan took careful aim and shot just to the right of the owl. The owl saw it coming, and stood stone still as the arrow shot by him, ruffling his feathers as it went.

“I don’t believe it.” Said Elladan as he loaded another arrow. “He didn’t even flinch. That’s no normal animal.”

Just before he let loose another arrow – this one aimed to kill, not scare – he froze. Aragorn saw this and looked at him questioningly.

“What’s wrong?”

Elladan shut his eyes. “The earth is trembling beneath us. Something approaches . . .” he listened again, and inhaled deeply. “. . . and it doesn’t sound or smell friendly.”

“We must hurry!”

Elladan again aimed and let loose his arrow, but the owl was way ahead of him. He spread his huge white wings and was in the air before the arrow was half way to him. With one last screech, he disappeared into the trees. The arrow was rejected and followed the first, disappearing into the brush.

“Well, that beats it. It’s almost like his could read my mind.” Elladan turned around, shaking his head. He started walking back toward the horses calling to Aragorn as he went. “Come. We need to get out of here, quickly.”

They re-loaded their horses and escaped through the trees. A few minutes later, as they were about to go around a ridge in the mountain, they looked back. Right in their clearing, a small group of orcs had gathered, searching the ground. Both of them looked forward and quietly spurred their horses forward.

<~~^~~>

“What was wrong with that owl?” Aragorn threw more fuel into the fire and sat down across from Elladan. They had ridden for at least another hour until they were sure they were out of danger. The darkened world hid them very well, but neither one of them were very calm. The owl was confusing them greatly, and it made Elladan especially uneasy.

“No idea. It confuses me as much as you. I want to know why he wasn’t afraid of my arrows.”

“Very strange.” Aragorn looked over to the horses a few feet away and watched them shift in their sleep. “Do you think we’ll ever find out?”

Elladan looked at him carefully. “I have a feeling, Estel . . .” he said. “that these strange happenings are only beginning.”

¨ ¨ ¨

Finally, after another day of frantic riding, Aragorn recognized the area around them. After a few moments of experienced examination of the grounds, he nodded to Elladan and urged Arien farther into the forest. After nearly another hour of slow riding, Aragorn spotted the small clearing he and Legolas had camped at the night of their attack. The stench of orcs reached the riders, both of whom stiffened with disgust. Aragorn swung lightly from Arien’s back, pulled the reins over the great horse’s head, hobbled him, and left him in the trees. Elladan followed suit, and followed his younger brother into the small clearing. The fallen orcs were still there, the stench of battle and orc blood was still heavy in the air. Both Aragorn and Elladan began to search and examine the ground carefully for clues.

Scanning the forest floor, Aragorn found and read the story again, reliving the horrible night. Because it had been nearly a week and a half since the battle, wind and other animals had confused many of the tracks, but it didn’t hinder Aragorn much. He carefully studied the prints on the ground, and located where the wolf had entered. Following the tracks carefully, he again watched the attack imbedded in the ground, almost as an outsider would. He came to the place where he had slept that night. He looked over to where he vaguely remembered seeing the wolf fall, and gasped.

Elladan, who had been working a few feet away, heard the sharp intake of breath, and quickly moved to Aragorn’s side.

Aragorn turned and stared at his brother wide-eyed, and again looked back. The wolf, of which he remembered falling right underneath a large bush, was gone. He swiftly walked to the bush and carefully read the signs in the dirt. There were some that looked faintly newer than the rest, and they were screaming the obvious ~ the wolf had gotten back up and left the clearing. Small puddles of dried blood marked the path, here and there snatches of the wolf’s fur were caught on branches of the large bush. Elladan had followed him, and then began to track the great animal father. A few feet outside the clearing, Elladan picked up what looked like half a stick off the forest floor. He turned around.

“Estel! Come here, look at this . . .”

Aragorn walked over and took the stick from his brother. On closer examination he discovered it to be a broken half of an arrow. He ran his fingers over the broken shaft, fingering the feathers on one side, and the sharp splinters of the other. Recognition hit him.

“Elladan, this is Legolas’ arrow. I’d know it anywhere . . .”

“Come look at this.” Elladan pointed to a nearby tree. At about hip level there was a sharp, white indent in the rough wood, the kind that appears when wood meets wood fast and hard.

“Amazing . . . he broke it off himself like that?” Elladan was stunned.

“But - how did he survive? That hit was fatal ~ right into his eye . . . he should be dead . . .” Aragorn was baffled.

“I don’t see the head of the arrow anywhere,” Elladan said, looking around them. “It must still be in him.”

Aragorn shook his head in frustration. There was more to this wolf than he thought, just like the owl they had seen yesterday . . .

What else was going to happen?

He nudged Elladan. “Come on. Let’s keep looking.”

Going back to where he knew he had bedded down that night, Aragorn found Legolas’ spot and began searching again. Using the marks and scuffs on the ground as a guide, he read his friend’s movements, picturing each before moving to the next. Elladan picked through the dead orcs, trying to find anything that looked like a clue to what they were looking for.

Only when the sky turned a deep crimson red did they stop. They had discovered nothing of the mysterious poison that had infected Legolas. Frustration at their failure tore deeper into Aragorn’s steps, making each one harder to endure.

They walked back to the horses and prepared for the night. Aragorn turned to Elladan.

“I’m going to go look for firewood.”

Elladan nodded. “Hurry back. It’s getting dark fast tonight.”

Aragorn headed out into the trees, picking up sticks as he went. He had a fair supply by the time it got very dark. His arms full, he headed back for camp. Even though the sun had all but disappeared he could still see Elladan and the horses up ahead. He speed up, wanting to get back. Now that night was assuming it’s normal course, chilly air was setting in, and none too slowly.

Soon he was close enough to hear Elladan call out to him, telling him to hurry up. Aragorn quickened his pace, but as he rounded a tree, his foot caught on an annoyingly large tree root. Losing his balance he fell forward, landing with his face in the pile of wood he had gathered.

Elladan had been watching, so when Aragorn had suddenly disappeared he took off running. Reaching the young human he helped him out of the fallen wood and off the ground. While steadying, Aragorn suddenly winced and moved his hand to touch his cheek. Elladan watched the pain flicker in Aragorn’s eyes and right away removed his brother’s hand from his cheek. Caught in the soft flesh was one good-sized piece of wood. Another smaller one was stuck above his eyebrow. Elladan shook his head. Both injuries were starting to bleed slightly.

“Lovely new attraction, Estel.” He said, turning Aragorn’s head to better reveal how serious the damage the splinters were causing. Aragorn to hiss gently as Elladan touched one lightly.

Aragorn snorted and rolled his eyes. “Lovely? Right.”

Elladan gave him a big smile, and then began to pick up the wood that littered the forest floor about them. Aragorn moved in to help. When they had gotten back to camp with it all and had a fire going, Elladan began to gently remove the small chunks of wood from Aragorn’s face with a small knife. Once they had been cleaned and dressed, Elladan let Aragorn go.

“Thanks, El.” Aragorn sent his older brother a grateful smile.

“No problem.” He replied, re-packing his bag. Aragorn watched him for a moment, and then moved toward the saddlebags to get dinner going.

It wasn’t long after dark when they got ready to sleep. Aragorn agreed to take the first watch. He watched his brother’s eyes slowly unfocus, and then pulled his blanket closer as he looked up at the stars.

He watched the stars glint and twinkle at him for a long time. He now understood fully why Legolas loved the stars so much. They were sparks of hope, and they filled his heart with an old feeling of light. He relaxed against the tree behind him and sent his friend an unspoken message ~

Stay strong and hold on, my friend. I will not fail you.

¨ ¨ ¨

PART 4

Elladan feed the dying flames and watch Aragorn toss again in his sleep. Brushing his hair from his eyes, he sighed deeply. He almost wished something would happen, or that time would fast-forward about three hours so that dawn would come. Absentmindedly, he fiddled with a small chunk of his hair, his eyes half-open.

“AAAUUURRRGGGHHH!!! NNNOOOOOO!!!”

Elladan jumped as though he had been struck in the face.

This is not what I had in mind, he thought, racing over to where Aragorn lay, who was tossing and turning violently.

“Aragorn! Aragorn! Wake up! Estel?! Wake up!!” Elladan shouted desperately, moving to his brother’s side, trying to get something, anything out of him. Aragorn’s face was drawn and tight, and he had squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth. He continued to jerk rou