Title: The Need of Many

Rating: PG-13 to R (Angst… proceed with caution)

Spoilers: None that we can think of

Archive: Please ask first. We will most likely say yes, but Cat has had bad experiences in the past with people taking her stories and claiming them as their own.

Disclaimer: We do not own anything of Tolkien's world. We just borrow it every now and again. We promise that when we're done, we'll put everything and everyone back exactly how we found them... mostly. Also, unless otherwise specified, all of the songs/poems in this story belong to Tolkien as well.

Summary: When Legolas is forced to make a decision that could very well determine the fate of all Middle Earth, what will he do? And what consequences will his choice have?

Additional Disclaimer: While we do not own anything of Tolkien's, there are in fact some characters, places, things, etc. in this story that came completely out of our own brains. Anything from the story that you do not recognize more likely belongs to us. So don't steal it but if you would like to borrow it, please ask.

Authors’ Notes: First off, we would like to thank Cassia and Sio for inspiring us and also letting us borrow Celboril. We love you girls!! And, of course, we love your writing. Keep up the amazing work! Thanks also to all the list members for being such awesome people! *bigs hugs for all of Mellon Chronicles land*

And to my beta Sparx or sometimes known as Iawen, thank you for offering your help! Love you girl!! :D *megahugs*

Additional Notes from Wanda: OMG!!! I don’t believe we actually did it!! It may have taken us forever (since February 2003?) but we did it!!! *hugs Cat and dances around the room* This would not have happened without you!!! Thank you thank you thank you… for all your encouragement, motivation and inspiration and for constantly kicking me when I said that I can’t write. This has truly been an amazing experience. I’ve never thought writing could be so much fun and I’ve never dreamed that I’ll ever write a fic but thanks to Cat, my dream has come true! I would also like to thank Val and Eleni for putting up with my insanity and constant harassment. My thanks also go out to Saber who threatened to hunt me down and whack me upside the head to knock some sense into me if I keep saying that I can’t write. Thanks gals *hugs* Oh, and I forgot Aphy!! *hugs Aphy* Poor Aphy was strangled and mutilated way too often during the course of this story. We promise to treat you better next time *eg*

Additional Notes from Cat: Ohh!!! I get my own place to say things?!? *gushes* WOW! I feel so special. Well... it just wouldn't be right if my first, most heartfelt thanks didn't go to Wanda. *glomps Wanda* My darling, darling co-author... I love you dearly. Writing this with you has been such an amazingly wonderful journey. I can't thank you enough for sharing this plot idea with me and allowing me to join you in its creation. I have truly never enjoyed writing something so much. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can't wait to work with you again. That being said, I'd like to thank the following people: Jess-- for always telling me I that I could in fact write, even when I am so stubbornly insisting that I can't.. and for always being there for me. *hugs* Halo Son and Chloe-- for writing such marvellous stories, inspiring me to try to reach your level, and befriending me without so much as a question along the lines of "who is this crazy stalker fan-girl who keeps instant messaging me??" *grins sheepishly* You two girls rock my world. And last by not least, my other list sisters: PT, Elendil and Trin for encouraging me through everything. *lots of hugs to all* Thank you all sooooo much. I couldn't have done this without you!!!

Final Notes: This story is very AU. We changed some things around, added some things, and took away some things, etc. so that it would better fit the story. We tried to keep it as close to cannon as possible for our purposes... but the fact remains things were moved about a good deal. If you want to fit this into the timeline of the other stories Wanda wrote, it would be sometime before "By The Hands of Another". You may think of it as a prequel if you like. :D

Right... now then... thank you for bearing with us through our long, drawn out disclaimer notes. We feel we have kept you waiting long enough. So, without further adieu, on to the story....

// = elvish translations
# = flashbacks
* = thought

And for those who do not already know… Estel is Aragorn’s elven name which means Hope.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The hill overlooked the river, with flat sun-drenched meadow banking either shore and dense, shadowy woods ringing the outskirts. A narrow ravine lay to one side, the river running rapidly between the two precipices. The river was a shimmering sapphire, narrow as it curved into the meadows and gradually wider until it dropped out of sight through the ravine. The new spring leaves were green and vibrant upon their branches as they swayed gently in the breeze. Their coloring was a strong contrast to the brown, dead ones that lay on the ground revealed by the melting winter snows. The sky was clear and bright, the air crisp and fresh. The sun had just begun to descend behind the horizon.

Legolas gazed around him, taking in all the beauty of the land and atmosphere. He had never taken this path to Rivendell before. However, as it was he would already be arriving in Imladris several days after he had intended and he was sure this road would cut some of the time off his journey. It was almost three months since the elf had last seen his best friend, and so the messenger arrived in Mirkwood with Aragorn's invitation to his birthday celebration, Legolas was more than happy to attend. Aragorn's birthday was the first of March and Legolas decided to get there a week early so he could spend some extra time with the human before the festivities began. Yet it would seem the fates did not look kindly on that decision. The day before his scheduled departure a small group of men arrived. As luck would have it, they were sent as representatives of Lord Ceoran from the town of Vaenyc, just outside the borders of Mirkwood. They desired an audience with his father, and King Thranduil had insisted Legolas stay and be present as well. It seemed to him that Thranduil was very fond of reminding him that he was a prince, and as such his duties always override his desires. Legolas hated this fact, and often became quite frustrated with the people in his realm for being a constant indication of it. At the moment he was increasingly frustrated with his father. There had been no need for his presence during those meetings with the men of Vaenyc. Legolas had expressed his feelings on the issue to the Elf King, and had parted from his father with harsh words. His eyes flashed with anger momentarily at the memory of his departure from Mirkwood.

His mood could not be dampened for long, however, and as the sky flamed with pinks, oranges, reds and deep maroon, and the dipping sun lined passing clouds with gold, Legolas decided it was time to make camp for the night. He steered his horse over to an area of the plains that looked ideal for setting up camp. He slid gracefully off the elegant beast and began to unload his gear from its back, singing to himself all the while.

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!

Though wind may blow and rain may fall,

We must away ere break of day

Far over wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where elves yet dwell

In glades beneath the misty fell...

His melodic voice rang out through the glade, and slowly faded at the song’s end. When everything was finally prepared for the night, the fire emitting a warm, comforting glow, Legolas walked over to his horse. Gently and affectionately stroking the animal’s mane, the elf whispered softly, "Quel esta, Brethil, mellon nin. Lye caela anlema tul’re, voronwer."

//Rest well, Brethil, my friend. We have a long journey tomorrow, loyal one.//

Letting his hand linger on the horse’s neck for a brief moment, he turned and walked back to his camp. After having a light meal and setting one last log on the fire for the night, Legolas was about to lie down on his bedroll when a feeling of warning washed over him. His body tensed and become impossibly still, his elven senses completely alert. He cursed himself silently for leaving his bow and quiver with his daggers on the other side of the fire.

Suddenly his keen ears picked up the sound of a released bowstring, and he quickly spun around and danced out of the way, the arrow barely missing him. Luck was not on his side however, and a second arrow was shot split seconds after the first. This one’s aim was true, and the arrow sunk deeply into the elf’s right shoulder.

Legolas cried out, more from surprise than the pain, and stumbled backwards. Although it wasn’t long, this momentary distraction was all his assailant needed. Legolas cried out again, this time from a harsh blow to his head. He sunk to the ground with a loud thud as his senses left him, and he retreated into darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He watched the lone figure intently as he rode closer into his territory. A wave of hope and excitement surged through his body, making his heart beat faster. He had not expected the elf to take this route but luck seems to be on his side today. For many centuries, he had been planning and waiting for the perfect time and place to set his plans in motion but circumstances had always prevented him from doing so. They either travelled in pairs when they ventured off their normal route or the route they took was too far away from his lair. But today, everything was perfect. Finally, the day had come for him to reclaim what was originally his.

The corners of his mouth twisted into a wicked grin and with elf-like stealth, he cut across the path behind the lone traveller and moving closer to his target, concealing himself behind a large oak tree. An arrow already notched and strung tightly on his bow. The elf tensed, sensing the danger and he knew that this would be his only chance although he realised that he did not have a clear shot. He let the arrow fly and as the first arrow left his bow, a second one was already notched and ready. The elf managed to sidestep his oncoming projectile but fortunately, his movement brought him into clearer view, making him an easy target. His second arrow struck the elf in the shoulder, the impact almost sending him to the ground. As the elf staggered and tried to regain his balance, he made his way to his victim in a flash, smashing the hilt of his knife into the side of his head. A cry of triumph broke from his lips as he watched the elf crumpled to the ground.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas was jolted back into consciousness by a sharp pain. His eyes snapped open and slowly adjusted to the dimness of the surrounding. The place was dark and damp. Sounds of water dripping could be heard some distance away. As his senses came into focus, he noticed that he was being pinned against the rocky surface of a cave, his hands shackled to the wall high above his head with his feet barely touching the ground. The numbing pain in his fingers and arms indicated that he had been held in that position for quite some time. A slow trickle of blood flowed down his right cheek from the deep gash on his temple caused by the blow that had knocked him unconscious.

A dim light emanated from a torch at the far end of his prison, flickering dangerously close to extinction by a cold breeze that swept through the room from a dark tunnel. A hooded figure stood in front of him, red eyes glowing like fire behind the darkness of his cloak. The figure once again flicked the arrow which was still embedded deeply in the elf's shoulder, sending another wave of fierce pain across his shoulder, eliciting a whimper from the wounded being. A hideous smile formed on the creature's lips.

"Ahh... awake finally," said the dark figure as he moved closer to Legolas. "Welcome to my humble home," he added. "I hope you will enjoy your stay."

The voice sent a cold shiver down Legolas’ back as the pair of gleaming red eyes peered into his own silver-blue ones. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest and he swallowed hard trying to push back the fear that threatened to overcome him. "Who are you?! And what do you want from me?!" Legolas demanded forcefully to cover the slight tremble in his voice while struggling against the chain that held him prisoner, wincing in pain as the metal cut deeply into his bruised and broken skin.

"I am Delund," the creature replied slowly, leaning closer towards the elf, his face nearly touching his prisoner’s. "And I want Vilya." The foul stench of its breath making the elf wince and he was forced to turn his face away from his captor.

"I’m of no use to you then. I do not know where Vilya is," Legolas whispered, hoping that the creature will somehow believe his lies.

Delund’s laughter boomed across the large cave. "Do not try to deceive me, Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil. I know who you are for I have been watching the happenings of Rivendell for a long, long time. It would have been more preferable if the one who strayed into my territory were the sons of Elrond but you would suffice for I have waited much too long."

"Lord Elrond will not relinquish Vilya for my sake!" the prince spat and yelped when the creature backhanded him sharply across the face, smashing his head into the cave wall. Bright spots danced before his eyes and it took all his strength to keep himself from passing out. He pressed his eyes shut tightly against the pain and swallowed hard as a wave of nausea swept over him.

"Elrond is a weakling! He does not deserve to be made bearer of Vilya. Gil-Galad was a fool to pass the ring to him! I should be the bearer and I WILL be! And you, elf," Delund grinned evilly, "you will be my key."

"I would rather die than see the ring fall into your evil hands!" Legolas shouted and cried out in pain when Delund reached over and wrenched the arrow out of his shoulder. A sinister smile broke out on his face as he licked the bright red blood off the arrowhead. A shudder ran through the prince’s frail frame at the sight and grimaced as he felt the warm blood flowing from the newly opened wound down his side and stomach. Delund looked at the bleeding elf longingly and licked his lips but he had to suppress his urge for he had more important things to do. He moved towards the torch, bent down and reached for a long wooden box lying beneath it. Setting it down on a stone table a few feet away, he lifted the lid exposing a long knife.

"My trusty companion," Delund traced the blade lovingly with the tip of his index finger. "The slayer of many weaklings." He raised the blade out of the box tenderly and removed a small vial from the inside corner of the wooden container. His fingers worked quickly but carefully to uncork the vial, never touching the liquid which it contained, and spread the foul liquid onto the blade. "Anehpfos, an ancient poison not known to many, made to cause great pain to its victims." Delund brought the blade close to Legolas’ and twisted the blade around inches away from his face enjoying his obvious distress. Suddenly with a flick of his wrist, he brought the blade down and slashing it across Legolas' chest. The elf bit back a cry and squeezed his eyes shut as a spasm of pain shot through his body. A burning sensation radiated from his chest to the rest of his body as the poison made its way into his bloodstream, leaving no traces of itself on the deep ugly wound. He was relieved when the pain did not get any worse and was still at a tolerable level.

"Do not be too relieved, elf," Delund sneered, "The pain will increase following each attack until you are consumed by it. Every five days, for the rest of your pathetic life, you will suffer and die a horrific death at the end of one hundred days... unless you deliver Vilya to me." A cruel laugh erupted from his throat, his voice echoing off the walls of the dark cavern.

"You will not succeed!" the young elf spat angrily as Delund moved over to release the chains which was holding him upright against the wall. Legolas crumpled to the ground when the support was removed, his legs failing to support his weight after long hours of being suspended. Stabbing pain shot through his arm and hands as blood rushed into his numb limbs and he whimpered softly. His involuntary reaction drew a satisfactory smile from Delund.

The creature grabbed the front of Legolas’ tunic and hauled him up roughly from the ground, shoving him through the long tunnel which led to the exit of the cave. The elf stumbled and fell a few times during the journey and that earned him many brutal kicks in the chest, bruising his ribs and aggravating his injuries further. It took them only minutes to reach the mouth of the cave but to Legolas, it seemed like a lifetime. Delund pushed the prince out of his lair into the dark and merciless night.

"Go. Send the message to Elrond," he stated coldly before turning around and retreating back into the shadows.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A gust of icy cold wind swept through the forest and a shudder shook the elf’s slight frame. He felt as if the wind had passed right through him. Between his injuries and the poison which was racking havoc inside his body, he desperately hoped that he would be able to make his way to Rivendell before his body failed him. Wrapping his arms tightly around his chest, he staggered forward, all his concentration was focused on putting one foot in front of the other that he didn’t realise that the wound on his shoulder and chest still bled sluggishly. The poison had interfered with the natural healing powers of the elf.

Hours passed since he first started out on the journey. The usually surefooted elf began to stumble more and more often and was on the verge of collapsing. His determination fading away with each step and his body screamed out for him to stop. The increasing headache and blurry vision making it difficult for him to stay focused on his current task. Rivendell was only about an hour away but in his weakened state, that distance seemed like an eternity. So close yet so far… He wondered if it would be better to just lie down and let fate take its course instead of going through what Delund had promised. Lord Elrond cannot know of this threat. That would also mean that there would be no one he could seek help from. Treading through some overgrown grass, Legolas dragged his exhausted body towards a large tree and slowly sank to the ground. Leaning against the tree, he closed his eyes in utter exhaustion and sighed sadly. Maybe it was better this way.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Elrohir’s head snapped up at the sound and he sprang lightly to his feet, his keen elven eyes scanning the area on his right. "Estel… wake up…" he called softly to Aragorn.

"Hmm?" Aragorn stirred, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to determine whether he was dreaming or someone actually tried to rouse him. He pushed himself up on one elbow when Elrohir nudged him gently on the shoulder with his foot, his eyes never leaving the area where the sound came from.

Earlier that day, Aragorn and Elrohir had decided to do some hunting to replenish their food storage before Legolas’ arrival to Rivendell for the ranger’s birthday celebration. The older twin had volunteered to stay behind and see to the preparation for the upcoming event. The weather was cool and comfortable, a perfect day for hunting even though they knew that there may be a risk for the temperature to drop at nightfall. Elladan had urged his human brother to pack an extra cloak in case the weather made a turn for the worse and after much persuasion that eventually turned into threats, Aragorn finally agreed reluctantly. He hated it when his brothers got overprotective.

The ride to the forest was rather cheerful, the earlier dispute quickly forgotten. The two brothers teased each other relentlessly as they headed deeper into the woods but ever since then, Elrohir had started acting strange, claiming to hear things that did not exist.

"Did you hear that?" Elrohir asked, his voice pulling Aragorn away from the comfortable dream-state he was in.

Still groggy from sleep, the ranger eyed his brother curiously. "Hear what?" he croaked. This was the fifth time the twin claimed to have heard something that night and he wondered what had caused his brother to be so jumpy. Aragorn was a little unsettled at first when his brother insisted to have heard something but after the third false alarm, he thought that the elf had finally lost it. The sound of a snapping twig brought Aragorn to his feet in a flash, his left hand grabbed for his bow, gripping it tightly and his right hand instinctively reached for an arrow behind his back and found nothing but air. He swore lightly and despite the seriousness of the situation, Elrohir smiled at his brother’s nervous reaction. Aragorn reached down and lifted his quiver from beside his bedroll, strapping it securely onto his back. He tilted his head towards the direction of the sound and listened intently for a few moments but the sound did not come again. Elrohir was glad that his brother heard it this time for he was beginning to wonder if his imagination had finally gotten the better part of him. Or perhaps he was getting paranoid. Spending too much time with a ranger who had an affinity for trouble can make one nervous.

Nodding his head towards his right, Elrohir motioned silently for Aragorn to follow. The night was dark and Aragorn could hardly see three feet in front of him. He shivered and wondered who or what would venture out in the forest in this cold. Orcs would not be seen this close to Rivendell and all sane creatures would be hiding in their respective shelters. Pulling his cloak around his shoulder and wrapping it a little tighter around himself, he considered using his second cloak but had to abandon that thought when he saw Elrohir moving away from their camp into the shadows. Having to depend solely on his elven brother’s keen eyesight to lead the way, the ranger followed the footsteps closely, ready to shoot at anything that posed a threat to them.

Elrohir stopped abruptly causing Aragorn to run headlong into him, almost knocking the elf to the ground. After regaining their footings, the twin pointed towards a figure on the ground leaning limply against the trunk of a tree, his head hanging lifelessly to one side. Aragorn squinted his eyes hoping to get a better view of the unfortunate creature but his human eyes were not made to see in the dark.

A gasp escaped from Elrohir as his sharp eyesight picked up the identity of the figure. "Oh Valar! It’s Legolas!" They knew that Legolas was due to arrive at Rivendell these few days and thought they may even meet up with him during their hunting trip. Never did they expect to find the prince under these circumstances.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn’s breath caught in his throat and a wave of panic washed over him. The two brothers made their way towards their friend in a few quick steps and Elrohir reached under the injured elf’s chin, afraid of what he was going to find… or rather what he was not going to find. He fumbled around frantically searching for a sign of life and let out a sigh of relief when he felt the weak pulse under his fingers. "He’s alive but barely. Let’s get him back to camp," Elrohir reached over and scooped the prince off the ground, one hand wrapping around his shoulders and the other supporting him behind the knees. He clutched the frail body close to him and his steps became more urgent when he felt an unnatural heat emanating from the young elf prince. Aragorn hurried behind his brother trying to keep up with his long strides.

Laying his precious burden down beside the fire, Elrohir took a closer look at Legolas. The prince was a sorry sight. He looked deadly pale, his clothes torn and bloody and his hair matted with dried blood. A deep cut ran from his right temple down to his cheek and a dark bruise marring the left side of his face. Red welts and torn flesh covered his wrists and judging from the injury, he had been held suspended by his captor… or captors. The shoulder and chest wound looked bad but not life threatening. However, Aragorn’s brow knotted as he examined the wounds more closely. Something is not right… The injuries looked fresh, barely half an hour old but if Legolas had been attacked only recently, the prince would not have been left in such weakened state. It looked to him that his friend had travelled long and far but if so, the wound would have started to heal by now and he would not have developed an infection-induced fever. "Estel, bring me my pack," Elrohir’s voice brought him back to the present and he hurried over to where they had left their belongings. He found Elrohir’s pack and gripping it firmly in his left hand, he rummaged through his own pack for the extra cloak that he was forced to bring. For once, he was grateful for his brother's fierce protectiveness of him.

The fire at their camp flickered, the amber flame dying slowly in the cold night. Elrohir rested one hand on the elf prince’s uninjured shoulder and pressed his other hand on Legolas’ forehead, feeling his body temperature raising. Cold sweat dampened his hair and soaked through his clothing. A gust of wind swept over them causing the unconscious elf to shiver uncontrollably, his body shaking like a frail leaf under Elrohir’s hands.

"Hurry, Estel!" the twin beckoned to the young man anxiously. "Tend to Legolas while I fetch more wood for the fire. We must keep him warm."

Upon seeing the ranger’s approach, Elrohir gave a small nod and rose, vacating his spot for Aragorn. He did not want to risk sending his brother into the night for the firewood. The task was more fitting for him as his elven senses were more suitable for working in the dark. Aragorn walked swiftly over and settled down, spreading the extra cloak over his friend’s legs and pulling it up to his waist. He sifted through the items in Elrohir’s pack. Picking out a piece of clean cloth and wetting it with some water, he gently cleaned the wounds on the elf’s shoulder and chest as best as he could. Finding the appropriate herbs in the pack, he crushed them in his hand and made them into a sticky paste with some water. The elf prince moaned when the paste was applied to the wounds but quieted down when Aragorn soothed him softly as he dressed the cuts. When that was done, he pulled the cloak up to Legolas’ shoulder, tugging the edges firmly under the elf. Aragorn discarded the soiled cloth in exchange for a new one. Dampening it again with water, he proceeded to wipe away the blood on his friend’s face, frowning as he saw that the wound was still bleeding, blood sipping out slowly from the deep gash. He pressed the cloth onto the wound to staunch the bleeding when it happened.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The pain in his head jerked him back into the cruel reality. His head pounded painfully but he forced his eyes open nevertheless. Heat burned through his body but yet he felt chilled to the bone. A blur figure loomed before him, silhouetted against the dim fire. *No!* his feverish mind screamed. *This cannot be true!* He was still there with Delund. But he remembered walking for hours away from the nightmarish place. Or was it just a hallucination brought on by the fever? He had tried so hard… but everything he did… all the pain that he’d gone through… was in vain. He had never left the cave. He was still with the monster that had taken him by force. Realising that his hands were no longer bound, Legolas swung at the hated figure with strength that he didn’t know he had, his fist connecting with the figure’s jaw sending his captor reeling backwards. Jumping up unsteadily to his feet, eyes darted around taking in his surrounding, he looked for a best route of escape.

Aragorn was caught completely off guard as Legolas attacked him. He fell backwards onto the ground as he watched the frantic elf sprang onto his feet, swaying dangerously as the cloak fell into a heap onto the forest floor. Aragorn pushed himself off the ground, stepping forward, ready to catch him should he fall but was taken aback by Legolas’ reaction. The elf backed away from the human in quick succession, his fevered mind showing him the face of Delund instead of his long time friend. "No… I will not help you…" he whimpered, shaking his head vigorously. Desperate to reach his friend, Aragorn took another step forward but his action only caused the elf more distress. Legolas stumbled backwards in panic, ramming his back into a tree, the impact knocking the air out of him. He gasped and sank onto the grass, finally accepting the unacceptable. Broken and defeated, he hugged his knees and hung his head, a small sob left his trembling lips.

Aragorn approached the elf cautiously, not knowing what had caused him to react that way. His heart twisted painfully in his chest as he watched the elf curled up on himself like some trapped animal. The young elf flinched as Aragorn carefully reached out to clasp his shoulders, his head snapping up, his haunted silver-blue eyes staring at him without recognition. Bright red blood soaked through the bandages as the wound was torn open by his harsh movements during the escape.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The ranger shook Legolas lightly trying to get his attention to focus on him. "Tirna amin, Legolas!" he pleaded. "Ta naa im, Aragorn."

//Look at me, Legolas!//

//It is I, Aragorn.//

Legolas blinked. The face in front of him faded to be replaced by another, one with kind sliver-green eyes instead of the maddening red glowing ones.

"Aragorn?" his hands reached out shakily to grasp the human’s forearms, making sure that he was not caught in a dream. "I’m sorry, Aragorn… I’m so sorry…" the voice was so soft that Aragorn could hardly hear him. His grip relaxed as Aragorn helped him up to his feet. Legolas swayed and the human grabbed hold of him, wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. The elf silently nodded his thanks and leaning heavily on Aragorn, he allowed the human to guide him back to the camp, concentrating hard on not passing out again.

The fact that Legolas willingly accepted his help worried him. The proud elf usually refused any help offered to him as long as he had the strength to stand. The short trip back to camp seemed to last forever and he found that he was dragging Legolas by the time they were halfway through. "Stay with me, my friend. We are almost there," he urged the semiconscious elf but had gotten no response. With Legolas’ weight weighing down on him, they barely made it back to the campsite when the elf pitched forward, his strength finally spent. Aragorn caught him before he hit the ground, easing him down carefully. He reached out for the cloak which was discarded earlier during the prince’s flight and wrapped it tightly around the unconscious elf.

As Aragorn brushed his hand across Legolas’ face, a slight tremor spread through the elf’s body, the fever that plagued him earlier had gone, leaving him cold to the touch. Fearing that his friend was going into shock, the ranger pulled him closer to his own body, extending his cloak around the elven prince. Placing a hand behind Legolas’ head, he drew it against his chest, trying to share as much body heat he could with the injured elf.

"What happened out there? Who did this to you?" Aragorn asked even though he knew that he would not get a reply. The most important thing at that moment was to get him back to Rivendell and to his father. Maybe then they would get an answer.

Elrohir’s return had never been better timed. Balancing a handful of firewood, the younger of the twins appeared out of the shadows. "Elrohir!" He heard his brother beckon to him, the human’s voice filled with anxiety and fear. His gaze fell on the two figures beside the fire and judging by the way that Aragorn was holding the elf prince, he knew something was wrong. He dropped the bundle carelessly and hurried over to the pair. His heart went cold as he took in Legolas’ condition. The prince’s face was a sickly white, his skin almost translucent under the pale moonlight. Dark bruises accentuated the pallor of his face. His breathing was slow and shallow, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable. A quick examination revealed that his pulse was weakening too. His body was shutting down and it seemed like the prince had lost the determination to live.

"We have to get him back to Rivendell, now!" Aragorn stated frantically.

"It’s too dangerous to travel at night. You know that, Estel," Elrohir replied but before Aragorn could argue with him, he continued. "But desperate times call for desperate measures. I will bring the horses and break camp."

Holding on to Legolas while Aragorn mounted his horse, Elrohir helped his brother lift the prince and settled the unconscious elf in front of him. With one arm wrapped around the elf’s waist, Aragorn held him securely against his chest, resting the elf’s head on his shoulder. Elrohir mounted his own horse and with a soft command, the two beasts took off towards Rivendell in a fast trot, sensing the urgency in their master’s voice.

The short trip back home was unnerving for the ranger. Feeling the breathing and heartbeat fading slowly under his arms made him urge his horse to go faster. The icy cold body of the young elf lay limp against his chest and he feared that if they didn’t make it back to Rivendell in time, no amount of heat in the world could warm that body again.

"Garor, mellon nin. Va linna mi ana i mornie." he whispered softly into Legolas’ ears. "Do not give up on life so easily." Aragorn paused and continued, "Whatever haunts you, we will fight it together. I will stand by your side until the end."

//Hold on my friend. Do not go into the darkness. //

As the gates of Rivendell became visible, Elrohir urged his horse onwards, riding slightly ahead of the ranger in order to alert the guards of their arrival. A minute later, Aragorn rode swiftly into the courtyard and pulled his horse to a stop. He eased Legolas down from his horse into Elrohir’s waiting arms before dismounting it. Cradling the elven prince, Elrohir moved hastily towards the house without waiting for Aragorn. After handing the reigns to a servant, the ranger caught up with his brother as he was entering the house. Calling out for their father as they mounted the stairs taking two steps at a time, the pair did not care if they woke the entire household.

Elrond sat up in bed frowning at the noise that had interrupted his rest. The frown deepened when he realised that the noise was actually his two sons which he had not expected to see for another three days. He sighed and wondered what trouble they had gotten themselves into this time to warrant their untimely return. *Well* he thought to himself *at least neither of them are too gravely injured if they still have the strength to scream the entire house down*. Pushing himself off the bed lazily and throwing a cloak around his shoulders, the Elf Lord stepped out of his bedroom… and was almost trampled over by the two figures dashing past him. Taking a step back, he grabbed Aragorn by the arm as his other son ran pass him and headed straight into the guest bedroom, a bundle of something clutched tightly in his arms.

"Estel! What-" Elrond started but was rudely cut off by the breathless human who was waving his hands around madly in the air.

"Hurt… help… bad…" young Aragorn panted and ranted on incoherently, pulling his father along by the sleeves and dragging him into the guestroom.

They entered the room just in time to see Elrohir unloading the bundle onto the bed and realisation dawned on him. The older elf moved quickly towards the bed, trailing by his winded and a little disoriented son. His two children gathered around him as he tried to access Legolas’ condition and he had to push them aside so that he could work more efficiently. He undid the bandages. The wounds the prince had sustained did not look life threatening but the condition the elf was in puzzled him.

"He is fading and he has lost the will to go on," Elrond turned around to look at his sons who stood rooted to the floor staring dumbfounded at him. "Well, don’t just stand there. Make yourselves useful. Estel, go get some hot water and bring my healing pack. Elrohir, bring the extra blanket from the guest bedroom." The brothers were brought out of their stupor by their father’s voice and giving a slight nod, they made their way out of the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The commotion had woken Elladan from his slumber. Still in a daze, the older twin made his way towards the room where all the sound had come from wondering why his brothers had returned ahead of schedule. Rounding a corner, he was almost knocked off his feet by two shadowy figures brushing past him.

"Nice to see you too," he mumbled after his brothers, not knowing the reason that had brought them home this early in the morning. Poking his head into Aragorn’s room, he saw his father bending over the bed.

"Ada?" Elladan called, his voice still raspy from sleep.

Elrond straightened and turned to face his son, his movement giving Elladan a better view of the person lying in the bed. He blinked, all traces of sleep left him in a split second.

"What happened?!" he blurted out.

"That’s what we want to find out. Go fetch some wood for the fire. We must keep the light strong."

The three returned shortly with their respective items. Elladan balancing a stack of firewood in his arms and Elrohir wobbled unsteadily behind a pile of blankets. Aragorn came in behind his brothers with a basin of water in his left hand, a jug of water on his right and a mixing bowl for the herbs and a glass tugged under each arm. Elrond’s healing packs hung around his neck. Elrond would have laughed at his son’s comical appearance if the situation were not so tense.

As Elladan tended the fire, Aragorn set down the items on a table beside the bed and helped Elrohir spread out the extra blanket over Legolas. The growing fire warmed the room slowly, the golden flame dancing in the hearth but the body beneath the blankets remained cold and still.

"Leave the room," Elrond commanded. His sons started to protest but his voice left no room for arguments. "Go."

Slowly, the three brothers moved out of the room and closed the door behind them. Leaning against the wall, Aragorn slid down to the floor with a loud sigh, his face buried in his hands. The twins settled down beside him and Elladan gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"He will be fine. Ada will help him." Elladan reassured his brother.

Aragorn lifted his head, haunted silver-green eyes stared up at the twins. "You were not there, Elladan. You should have seen him." Aragorn shook his head sadly and reached up unconsciously to rub his jaw where Legolas had hit him earlier.

"What happened to your jaw?" Elrohir pushed the human’s hand away and held the human’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head towards the light for a better view. Dark bruises spread across his jaw all the way up his left cheek. The younger twin prodded it gently and the human winced, swatting his hand away carelessly.

"What happened?" Elladan pushed his brother for an answer.

"He hit me," Aragorn answered.

"Who?" the older twin questioned.

"Legolas," the worn out ranger sighed dejectedly. "He thought I was someone else and…" Aragorn shuddered. "He was terrified! I could see it in his eyes! I have never seen him so afraid before in my life!"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Crushing some athelas in his hands, Elrond dropped them into the bowl of hot water. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Legolas’ chest and the other found the elf’s slender hand. Closing his eyes, he focused his healing powers into the almost lifeless elf. "I know you are hurting although I do not know why. But whatever is troubling you, it is not worth giving up your life for it. I will help you with your pain. Stay with me Legolas. Do not give in to the darkness." Elrond’s soft words and the sweet scent of athelas filled the room.

He searched for the prince, calling out to him for a long time but he could not feel the presence. "Hear my voice Legolas and take comfort in them. Come back to me. Life is precious. Do not turn your back on it." He felt a small flutter and held on to it. "I know you are there, Legolas Greenleaf. I know you can hear me. Come little one, your friends await you." The presence grew stronger and he could almost touch it. "Be strong. We will fight it together." Feeling a twitch in his hand, he opened his eyes and found that Legolas’ slender fingers had wrapped themselves around his hand. Some color had returned to his pale face and the skin beneath his hands had started to warm. His breathing evened out and the heartbeat grew stronger and steadier under his palm. Elrond smiled wearily. With the life threatening situation resolved, he proceeded to clean and dress the prince’s other wound.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The young man got to his feet and started pacing in front of the closed door. Elladan and Elrohir watched as their brother walked back and forth the short corridor, his movement making them slightly agitated after a while. Finally, Elladan sprang up to his feet, blocking the ranger and forcing him to a stop.

"You know Estel, the house was not built for such extensive pacing. Stop before you wear a hole in the flooring," Elladan stated flatly and a snicker came from behind him. He turned around and glared at Elrohir who feigned innocence. Looking at the mischievous smirk on his brother’s face, Elladan eventually gave in, his gaze softened and he let out a small laugh.

"Come, sit with us," he draped his hand around Aragorn’s shoulders, guiding him back to where they were seated earlier. Elrohir brushed a strand of stray hair from Aragorn’s face after his brothers rejoined him on the floor and tugged it behind his ears. "Don’t worry Estel, he will be fine."

As if on cue, the door to the bedroom opened revealing an exhausted Elrond. The trio greeted him and was relieved to see a small smile breaking out on the elf lord’s face.

"Legolas will be fine. It was not easy to call him back but there are things that he still holds dear in this world which kept him with us." Elrond motioned them into the room. "His wounds are healing but rather slowly. Watch him closely. Alert me if there are any changes." He proceeded out the room but paused near the exit. "Elladan, take care of your brother’s bruise please," and with that, he left his sons to do what they do best…keeping vigil beside someone’s bed.

The remaining of the night passed quickly and uneventfully. Aragorn had rooted himself beside Legolas’ bed and had settled into a comfortable spot, intending to keep a watchful eye on his friend but exhausted from the night’s event, the ranger had eventually succumbed to sleep. After draping a blanket over their brother, Elladan and Elrohir had each commandeered a large chair in front of the fireplace, curling up snugly into it. A few moments later, sounds of light snoring could be heard throughout the room from where the twins slept.

Legolas regained consciousness briefly sometime near dawn, his incoherent whimpers brought Aragorn out of his dreams instantly. Smoothing Legolas’ hair back from his forehead, he whispered soothing words to calm the distressed elf and after some time, the prince quieted down and drifted back to a more natural sleep.

The days passed swiftly but Legolas’ wounds healed slower than he had expected. He knew that it was caused by the poison, but he had no intention of letting the others know about it. He lied about how he felt and pretended that all was well. Although he claimed that he was only attacked by a group of bandits, the haunted look in his eyes said otherwise. The elf had become reserved and was frequently found at his room window staring out blankly, trapped in some distant memory. But no matter how long the three brothers had interrogated, he insisted that nothing was wrong. Even Elrond was unable get any details out of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The first attack took him completely by surprise. As he was walking out of his room heading downstairs to meet his friends for breakfast, a stabbing pain pierced through his chest. Agony flared through him and he gasped. Bright green spots danced before his eyes and a loud ringing sound exploded in his ears. Groping blindly at something for support, hoping against hope that he would not pass out, his hands came in contact with a towel and he latched on to it for dear life. Unfortunately, the soft fabric could not withstand his weight and was ripped off the hook. The usually graceful elf stumbled forward clumsily, crashed into the wall and landed on the floor with a loud thud. And then, the pain was gone just as sudden as it had come, leaving Legolas winded and disoriented. Hurried footsteps approached his location as he was still recovering from the shock.

"Legolas!" Aragorn’s voice rang out from the corridor before he appeared at the door. The human gaped when he saw the elf slumped against the wall, his face ashen and his breath coming in sharp rasps. "Are you hurt?!" The ranger bent down and helped Legolas up onto his feet. The elf prince wavered and hung on to Aragorn for support.

"I am fine," Legolas said, taking a deep shuddering breath and steadied him.

"What happened?!" Aragorn’s brow knotted and he scanned the elf from head to toe, worry written all over his face.

"I-I… uhh… It…" the prince stuttered, his mind spinning as he searched frantically for a plausible explanation to douse his friend’s uneasiness. "It was a spider!" he finally blurted out and winced inwardly at the lame excuse.

"A spider?" the ranger’s voice held much scepticism.

"Yes! A very BIG spider!!" the prince emphasised the word ‘big’ and held his hands a foot apart to exaggerate the size.

Aragorn laughed and Legolas could not believe his luck when the man actually believed his ridiculous tale of giant spider lurking in the house. Or maybe he didn’t. But if he didn’t, he did not show it. It was not uncommon for small spiders to nest in the dark corners of the house but giant spiders were only found deep in the forest. If there really were a giant spider roaming in the house, Elrond would have a fit. Legolas made a mental note to get away from prying eyes in the mornings of every fifth day. Either that or he would have to come up with some real convincing stories.

The young man watched as Legolas smoothed down his hair and straightened his tunic. He had not believed what the elf said. If Legolas were afraid of spiders, wargs would fly. But then again, his friend had never ceased to amaze him and maybe this was one of the many surprises. Smiling to himself, he ushered the elf out of the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Elrohir! If you don't shut up, you will ruin everything!"

Elladan's voice was a fierce, but nearly inaudible whisper. His twin was too close to ruining their scheme for his comfort. When Elrohir let loose another muffled laugh, Elladan cuffed him sharply upside the head.

"I'm sorry, brother," Elrohir squeaked between giggles.

Elladan shook his head and smiled ruefully. "I should have told you to stay in your room. You're hopeless."

Elrohir feigned innocence, and the pair made their way silently into Aragorn's bedroom. They smiled mischievously when they found their human brother still fast asleep. Although that was to be expected, it was a good three hours before anyone in their right mind would even think about waking up.

They stalked over to the bed, and both barely stifled a shout when a hand landed on each of their shoulders. The elven twins turned to look behind them and found Legolas, his grin spread from ear to ear.

"And just what do you two think you are doing?" Legolas asked with mock indignation. Elrohir fumbled for an explanation, but his brother's eyes... or more specifically the glint of mischief he found in them, made him pause. Elladan and Elrohir shared a glance, but that was all it took. They communicated with no words, in a way only possible for twins with thousands of year’s experience.

A moment later their mouths curved into identical smirks; expressions which would cause all who knew them to run screaming in the other direction. Legolas however did not have time to react.

"Right. New plan, then," Elrohir said.

Faster than any human eye could follow, the two brothers had grabbed Legolas and now held the Mirkwood prince suspended between them, Elladan holding him under the arms and Elrohir holding his ankles.

"What do you..." Legolas started to protest, but Elladan cut him off.

"You get to wake up Estel," and with that, they swung the prince high above Aragorn's bed and dropped him, so he landed directly on the sleeping human.

The resulting struggle was quite the sight to behold, as Aragorn attempted to get a hold of the intruder who had awoken him, and Legolas tried to avoid getting the ranger's knife lodged in his throat.

When he heard the familiar sound of his elven brothers laughing, Aragorn paused and looked down at the figure he now had trapped beneath him. In the dim moonlight, the man caught a glimpse of platinum hair falling gracefully over delicately pointed ears. As his eyes met the familiar silver blue ones of his long time friend, he quickly jumped to his feet and swore lightly.

"Legolas!?"

The twins laughed even harder.

"Oh, no. This is not getting placed on my head," the blonde elf said to his friends. Legolas threw Elladan and Elrohir a sideways glance before returning his full attention to Aragorn. "This is most assuredly their fault."

The human glared darkly at his brothers, waiting for an answer to his unspoken question. Elladan chuckled at the man's expression.

"All right, all right," he said, "Yes, it was our doing."

"Legolas was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time," Elrohir said, finishing his brother's thought, as they so often did.

"Indeed," Legolas muttered in mock annoyance. Aragorn simply shook his head.

"What? Oh, come now. It was not that bad," Elrohir offered in their defense.

"Aye. In fact, Estel, you should thank Legolas for showing up when he did. Our original plan for you was much worse," Elladan added playfully.

"Oh? And just what plan was that?" Aragorn asked as he crawled back under the comfortable blanket.

The twins laughed. "No, no. We will not tell you. It might still come in handy should we ever feel like playing another prank," the elder twin said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Legolas and Elrohir burst out laughing as the ranger's eyes widened. Soon Aragorn was laughing as well, and the four friends slipped into the cadence of their usual friendly chatter.

"Oh, by the way," Elrohir said. "Happy birthday, brother."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Elladan ruffled his little brother's hair affectionately and then threw back his blanket abruptly, attempting to drag him away from the comfort of the bed. Aragorn yelped, wrapping his fingers around the bedpost and digging his heels into the sheets as his brother proceeded to pull him off the furniture.

"Get up little brother. It's time."

"It's too early to be out of bed!" the man protested as he struggled against his brother's strong grip. "Legolas!!" Aragorn shouted to his friend hoping that the blond elf would come to his aid. To his surprise, Legolas just sat there with a lopsided grin. The elf watched as Elrohir joined the game, prying his human brother's fingers off their anchor.

"That's not fair!!" the young man squealed as his fingers started to slip.

"Oh come on Estel, you know you're not going to win so why not give up," Elladan teased.

Aragorn let out a low growl and glared sideways at the elf prince who was desperately trying to look calm but failing miserably.

"Don’t look at me Estel. I’m not getting involved in your family matters," the elf said between gasps of laughter.

With an irritated cry, Aragorn’s fingers finally gave way and the man was dragged unceremoniously onto the floor, landing with a loud thud. Shooting his brothers his famous death glare, he feigned anger and snarled when they tried to help him up. The scene caused Legolas to laugh even harder and it took all his determination to recompose himself and wiped the tears from his eyes. Pushing himself off the bed, the prince brushed the crinkles out of his tunic and offered his hand to Aragorn, who was still rooted to the floor silently expressing his displeasure at being dragged out of bed before dawn.

"Get dressed brother," Elrohir tossed a bundle of clothes at the ranger who caught it with ease and in turn flung it over his head onto the bed.

"Come," Legolas grabbed the twins by their sleeves and dragged them towards the door. "Let’s give him some time to get over his grouchiness," the elf said with a small smirk which earned him an annoying glare from the human. Laughing lightly, the prince closed the door behind him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn strolled into the dining area looking much more awake and refreshed than he had ten minutes ago. He was not surprised to see his father, brothers and friend already seated at the table waiting patiently for his arrival. The young man greeted his father and slid into the vacant chair beside his elven friend who was smiling broadly at him. Aragorn returned the smile kindly. He was grateful that his friend seemed to have fully recovered from the bandits’ attack and back to his own mischievous self.

Elrond pushed the basket of freshly baked bread and honey jar in front of Aragorn. "Eat up Estel. I believe you have a long day ahead of you," the elf lord smiled at his foster son. He knew that Elladan and Elrohir had made plans to keep their little brother occupied until evening. They had asked Celboril to prepare a picnic basket for them the day before packed with the boy’s favorite food and desserts and Elrond had no doubt that they were going to spend the day at their much loved hideaway.

Stuffing the last bit of bread into his mouth, Aragorn sank back into the chair with a contended sigh as his brothers and friend excused themselves to prepare for their departure. Elrond reached over and laid his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder affectionately giving it a light squeeze.

"Enjoy your birthday."

The smile on Elrond’s face was contagious and soon Aragorn found himself grinning from ear to ear. He knew that his father had prepared a surprise for him and would be revealed later in the evening along with the rest of the surprises from his brothers. Clasping his father’s hand, a twinkle shone in his eyes.

"Thank you Ada," Aragorn said as both of them stood from the table.

Elrond gave his son a light shove to send him along. "And stay out of trouble," the elf lord called out at the retreating form.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The water was crystal clear and the afternoon sun had warmed it enough for Aragorn to dare put his feet into the lake. The human sat on the edge of a large rock with the water immersed to his knees, watching his brothers and friend dip and dive in the lake. He wished to join them but the weather was a little too cold for him and he did not want to catch a chill on his birthday. So he settled on watching the twins trying to dunk a helpless elf prince.

Earlier that morning, Elladan and Elrohir had enlightened him and Legolas in a war game. The twins had prepared balled-up rags and some dyes, one color for each of them. When the game started, each of them would try to hit the other with dye-soaked rags and the one with the most hits would lose. The results were a multicolored human and three hysterical elves. The three elves had apparently agreed upon teaming up and attacking the human while leaving each other alone. Aragorn did manage to get some hits on his brothers and friend but not enough to discourage their attacks on him. Finally, the human surrendered and admitted his defeat when his brothers and Legolas converged on him and backed him up against a tree.

Smiling to himself, Aragorn dipped the towel into the lake. Fishing the soggy material out of the water, he wrung it and wiped at his hair trying to get as much of the dye out of them as possible. His brothers had brought him a set of clean clothes which he had gratefully changed into, thanking them for their consideration. Elladan and Elrohir were fortunate since they had dark colored hair and the dye did not look as prominent on them as it would have on blond hair. Legolas however was not that lucky. His once blond hair now had streaks of bright pink in them and the twins were helping him wash it off before it stained them permanently.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the afternoon passed by gracefully. The four companions lay sprawled out on the grass enjoying their delicious lunch and the warmth of the sun. They chatted and teased each other but never once did they bring up the incident of the ‘bandits’. When the sun began to dip behind the trees, the company packed up and headed for home.

"I wonder what Ada has planned," Aragorn questioned his brothers hoping to get some clues from them but the twins just looked at him and then grinned at each other.

"It’s a birthday party Estel! Lots of people...lots of food..." Elladan said with a laugh.

"Yes, a lot of people eating dinner together," Elrohir put in with an impish smile.

"Right." Aragorn nodded trying to ignore his brother’s teasing but the truth was he was rather excited.

This was the first large-scale party that he had for his birthday ever since he was taken into the house of Elrond. But today was his twenty first birthday and according to his father, it was a day worth celebrating because in human years, this was the age when one turned into an adult. Aragorn could not help but smiled.

The light banter between brothers and friends died as they entered the house. The place was filled with elves, most of them Aragorn knew by name. He was showered with blessings and good wishes as he and his companions made their way to the dining area. The man was overwhelmed with joy. He never thought the party would be that grand. Dinner was magnificent. There were plenty of food and wine; enough to fill hundreds of elves. The party continued until several hours after sundown and gradually, the guests started excusing themselves to return to their respective homes and before long, Aragorn found himself in the presence of only his father, brothers and the elf prince. Leaving Celboril and the rest of the kitchen helpers to clear the table, Elrond suggested that they adjourn to the Halls of Fire.

Aragorn sank into a large chair beside the fireplace. The warmth from the flame caressed his skin and the human sighed contentedly. The twins and Legolas each commandeered a chair leaving one empty seat for the elf lord. Elrond joined them moments later carrying something in his hand. Aragorn watched as his father sat down opposite him and handed him the object that he was holding.

The human accepted it and realized that it was a leather-bound book. Turning the cover open gingerly, his eyes widened as he saw the delicate drawings of a child... not just any child but drawings of him. As Aragorn scanned through the pages, he saw pictures of him taking lessons in the archery range, him having his first riding lesson, sparring with his elven brothers. There were also pictures drawn of him while he was asleep. The child in the drawing gradually turned into an adolescent and eventually into a young man.

Aragorn looked up at his father, unshed tears brimmed in his bright eyes.

"Oh Ada..." the man laid the book down and threw himself at his father hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

Elrond chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. "You’ve grown into a fine young man and I’m very proud of you," the elf lord pulled away from the embrace and tilted Aragorn’s head up by his chin, gazing deeply into the human’s eyes. He bent over and placed a small kiss on Aragorn’s forehead before rising from the chair.

"I must take my leave now," the elf lord announced to the other occupants. "Enjoy the rest of your night." With one final smile, the Lord of Rivendell left the hall.

Silence descended upon the room momentarily until Elladan cleared his throat.

"Happy birthday Estel," the older twin said as he reached beside the fireplace and pulled out a beautifully carved bow. Passing it to his brother, the twin urged him to practice more on his aim.

"Hey, it’s not my fault. The bows at the archery range were made for elves and not man," the human protested but not without mirth.

"No more excuses, Estel. This bow is designed especially for you. No more blaming your bad aiming on something else."

The human snorted and cuffed at his brother playfully but thanked him nonetheless for the precious gift.

"My turn!" Elrohir caught everyone’s attention with his small shout.

The younger twin presented Aragorn with a small wooden box the size of his palm. Aragorn took the box into his hand, turning it around to admire the beautiful workmanship. Carvings covered the entire box and judging by the delicate patterns, it was obvious that Elrohir had made it himself. The box was tied off with a blue silk ribbon and the words "Happy Birthday Estel" was engraved in elvish on the lid.

Aragorn looked up at his brother and smiled. "It is beautiful. Thank you."

"Go on, open it," Elrohir prompted. His eyes gleamed with mischief.

Noting the all too familiar look on Elrohir’s face, Aragorn started to doubt the genuineness of the gift. "Is something big and hairy going to jump out at me when I open the box?" he eyed the dark haired elf suspiciously.

"I am not telling," Elrohir replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The human hesitated and reached for the ribbon slowly but stopped halfway and looked pleadingly at Elladan. The older twin shrugged, indicating that he had no idea what his brother was up to.

With a loud audible sigh, Legolas reached over and poked Aragorn in the ribs, making him jump. The prince folded his arms across his chest and stared at the young man. "Hurry up Estel! Don’t keep the elderly waiting!" the elf chided lightly and earned himself a glare from his friend.

"You know, if something jumps out at me, I will make you eat it!" Aragorn threatened playfully.

The comment elicited a light-hearted laugh from Legolas, his silver-blue eyes shining brightly, and for a moment, Delund and his threat was forgotten. The party had taken his mind off the terror that had plagued him since that fateful night. The horror could wait. Spending time with his best friend whom had become as close as a brother to him was the most important thing at that moment.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Three pairs of eyes watched intently as Aragorn undid the ribbon and lifted the lid with care. He let out the breath that he did not realise that he was holding when the content of the box did not come to life. Instead, a beautiful glass vial greeted him and a smile broke out on his face. He lifted the delicate vial out from the box, peering closely at its content and noticed that it was packed with athelas. The lip of the vial was sealed securely with wax and a small tag hung loosely at the side. Aragorn turned it over and his eyes widened as he read the writings on it. [IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS.] Laughter erupted around the fireplace when he read the inscription out loud. The teasing and jesting continued for minutes before Aragorn noticed that Legolas had withdrawn from the conversation some time ago and had gone quiet. Fearing that his friend may still be unwell from the injuries he sustained, Aragorn rested a hand lightly on the elf’s shoulder, requesting his attention.

"Are you well?"

Legolas gave a small nod but the gesture was not enough to convince the stubborn human. A week had passed since Legolas was drawn back from death’s door. Although all of his injuries had healed, Aragorn kept getting a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"Tell me. What troubles you?" Aragorn pressed on.

Legolas turned and looked at Aragorn solemnly, regret showing deeply in his eyes. "I am sorry my friend for I do not have a gift for you today. It was taken along with my pack during the attack." The prince’s voice was filled with sadness.

Understanding dawned on Aragorn as words left Legolas’ lips. His friend was feeling guilty for not bringing a gift! Grasping Legolas by the arm, he shook the elf lightly and laughed. "Is that all that bothers you?" He looked Legolas firmly in the eye and continued, "The greatest gift of all is to have you here… with us." Relief flooded over him when a smile spread across Legolas’ face. "Come, join the fun!" he redirected the elf’s attention back to the squabbling twins.

The conversation among the brothers and friends lasted well into the night and finally Aragorn was sent to bed when he failed to stifle a yawn. His brothers shooed him towards his room but not before he dragged Legolas along and insisted that he should get some rest too. The prince still looked rather pale.

Legolas stayed on in Rivendell after the celebration. The second attack had grown in intensity and knowing that the pain and damage would only get worse, he realised that he would never make the journey back to Mirkwood alive. He would rather die among friends than to pass on alone in the woods. At least by staying here, there would be a body to be sent home to his father. He knew that Elrond and his sons would eventually find out about his condition before the deadline but he intended to keep the secret for as long as he was able to in fear that the elf lord may give up Vilya to save his life. On the other hand, perhaps Elrond would be able to find a cure although he knew that it was just wishful thinking. But until then, he would have to endure the pain alone.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas helped Aragorn load their game onto the horses while Elladan and Elrohir gathered up their belongings from the camp. The hunting trip was a success earning them three bucks and several rabbits. Legolas was glad that they were finally ready to go home. He had been invited to join the hunt two days after his fourth attack. Initially, the prince refused but after seeing the dejected looks of his three friends, he had relented. After all, it was only an overnight trip and he would have plenty of time to do what he had to do before the next attack. The quartet had set off at dawn the next day.

Legolas smiled at the memories of the previous day. He had enjoyed the time spent with his friends and was glad that he had come along for the hunt. Everything was working out according to plan and he would be back to Rivendell in time to pull one of his disappearing tricks and get away from prying eyes.

He was so wrong.

Several pairs of eyes watched the elves and man as they broke camp at dawn and they knew that if they wanted to attack, this would be their final chance. The alpha male made the first move and the rest of the pack followed his lead. A cry from Elladan was the only warning the ranger and elf received before the wolves bore down on them.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The ambush had slowed them down considerably. Sometime during the fighting, their horses had run off. When things calmed down they had tried calling them back, but to no avail. They now had no choice but to walk back to Rivendell. Legolas looked around the camp they had set up for the second night. His eyes glanced over the sleeping forms of his companions. Elladan had made his bed at the base of the great oak tree that stood a short ways away from the fire. Elrohir was lying perpendicular to his twin, their heads nearly touching. Finally, his eyes came to rest on Aragorn. The elf sighed heavily. He had seen the suspicion and unease in his friend's eyes during his brief exchange with Elladan earlier in the evening. Legolas silently cursed himself for the desperation he knew had been laced through his voice. Elladan had offered to take watch, but Legolas had jumped up and refused his offer. He had insisted that he would take the first night's watch. But how could he help it? He knew that when darkness stole over the land, it would be the fifth day once again...

Suddenly he felt the pain begin welling up. He bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood, to prevent himself from crying out. He had to get out of here. Away from the camp before the pain became unbearable. He rose shakily to his feet and took off into the forest. So hard had he been concentrating on suppressing the agony he was feeling, he never noticed the pair of silver-green eyes watching him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas ran through the trees as fast as his feet would carry him. 'They can't find out,' he thought to himself. 'They will only tell Lord Elrond. They cannot--'

Legolas' thoughts were interrupted as his boot caught on a fallen tree limb, and he was sent flying into the ground. He landed hard on his side and gasped softly as his shoulder made contact with the ground. He curled in on himself, bringing his legs up near his chest and laid there, for he lacked the strength to get up. As the next wave of pain washed over him he let out an anguished cry that he could no longer contain. He silently wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Anything to stop this relentless agony.

"Legolas?"

The voice, full of concern, made the elf jump. He struggled to get to his feet, but his body was far less than willing to co-operate. Instead he got to a sitting position, and leaned back against a nearby tree. He stared intently at the ground as another cry was wrenched from his lips.

"Legolas... what's wrong?" Aragorn ran to his friend's side. He had watched the elf leave the campsite, and the worry he had been feeling had forced the man to follow him. Legolas would not meet his eyes, and this disturbed the ranger greatly. That always meant he was hiding something. "Legolas? Were you hurt in the attack? What--"

"I am well, my friend." Legolas cringed at the pointlessness of his words, but he knew naught what else to say. He suppressed another violent cry, and it came out as a mere whimper.

Aragorn's brow furrowed. "Legolas, you are not well. You are trembling."

The man took the shaking elf into his arms, despite the protests from Legolas and laid him down on a stretch of level ground. He began looking over the elf's body for any injuries he may have sustained. He could not understand what was making his friend act thus. Even were he injured, which was highly unlikely, it could not have been very severe. What could have hurt him so badly? Aragorn's musings ceased when he found no injury at all to his friend. He raised questioning eyes, but again Legolas would not meet them.

"Legolas. Tell me what is wrong. You are not injured, I… I do not understand."

Legolas was chiding himself for letting Aragorn find him. He should have been less careless in his attempt to flee the camp. He could feel the intense pain begin to subside and thanked the Valar for that. But he knew the dull ache and trembling would continue for a time longer. And, even more discouragingly, he knew that now everyone would find out. Aragorn would inform the twins of what had transpired and in turn one of the three- if not all of them- would inform their father. Legolas sighed. He could not hide the truth from Lord Elrond for any length of time. The elven lord would see too deeply into his soul.

At last, Legolas despairingly met the eyes of his friend and said, "It is well, my friend. I will be fine. Let us go back to the camp."

The elf pushed himself up to a sitting position with Aragorn’s help and struggle to his feet. Shrugging the human off, he turned and forced his still shaky legs to move but before he could even take a step forward, his knees buckled and suddenly he saw the ground rushing up to meet him. Right before the impact, strong hands grabbed him from behind and lowered him down gently.

"Legolas! What is wrong with you?!"

Aragorn’s voice was filled with dread and Legolas felt guilty for putting his friend through the charade.

"I-I cannot tell you. Not now." Legolas looked at his friend pleadingly. "Please do not force me."

Tears welled up in the prince’s bright blue eyes and threatened to spill from their rims. Having never seen Legolas in such distress before, Aragorn was shaken at the elf’s display and quickly agreed not to press him further. The prince would tell him what was bothering him eventually at his own discretion.

Helping Legolas to his feet, Aragorn supported his friend for a short distance and then allowed Legolas to walk unaided for the remaining journey. When they met up with the twins, the human did not mention a word to them about how he had found Legolas and for that the prince was extremely grateful. His secret was still safe… for now.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Stop following me!" Legolas yelled at Aragorn out of frustration. "I am fine!" The young ranger had been eyeing him like a hawk ever since their return from the hunting trip. He had made Aragorn swear not to disclose the incident in the forest to anyone, assuring him that everything will be all right. Although the human did not believe a single word that he said, Legolas was grateful when his friend did not push him for the truth. Four days had passed since the last attack and Legolas was getting more and more agitated. He desperately needed to get out of this place before the next attack but Aragorn had been tagging behind him wherever he went leaving him no chance of escape.

"No you are not!" Aragorn retorted forcefully, more out of fear rather than anger. "I can see that you're not sleeping well. You are far too pale for comfort and quick to anger! You are definitely NOT fine!" The elf had been acting strange lately. For the past month, he would mysteriously disappear into the woods on certain days only to return later looking rather shaky and pale but he would always dismiss the ranger with some excuses. Aragorn had never given it much thought until the day after the hunting trip. Recalling back the days when Legolas made his disappearing trips, he slowly made the connection and realised that it happened every five days. And today was the fifth! There was no way that Legolas was going to brush him away this time. He wanted the truth and he would get it out of the stubborn prince one way or another.

Ignoring Aragorn’s comment, Legolas spun on his heels and walked briskly towards the door only to be blocked by one very annoyed and concerned ranger. "Talk to me, Legolas!! Tell me what is wrong!!" the human shouted at his elven friend and reached out to grab him by the arm. Legolas pushed him away non-too gently, harder than he intended to. "Get out of my way, human!!" he screamed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 12 - The Need of Many

Elladan and Elrohir had just entered the house when they heard the screaming and hurried towards the arguing duo just in time to see Aragorn grabbing Legolas by the arm. They were shocked to see the elf prince shove Aragorn away roughly. Elladan rushed over and reacted immediately by stepping in between the two, trying to calm the situation. Elrohir was by his brother’s side in a flash and had reached out to pull his human brother away from the furious elf. He and Elladan started speaking at the same time.

"Estel, calm down..." Elladan tried to hold on to the struggling human.

"Legolas, what has gotten into you..." Elrohir frowned at the sight of the irritated elf.

"...it is not going to help..."

"...why are you screaming at each other..."

"...I am sure we can work this out..."

"...resolve it peacefully without killing each other..."

"Shut up!" both Aragorn and Legolas yelled at the twins simultaneously. The brothers froze in mid-sentence and gaped at their younger brother and friend. Legolas shoved Elrohir aside and turned to leave again but Aragorn was not going to let him off that easily this time. The human shrugged away from his brother and reached out to grab his friend once again, spinning him around to face him. "Don't you dare walk out on me like that. I want the truth," he eyed Legolas intently, his voice low and tensed.

"What do you want from me?! I said I am..." Legolas froze suddenly, his eyes went wide and a strangled cry escaped his lips. His hands shot up to his chest as his knees buckled beneath him, sending him ungracefully onto the ground. It took the three brothers several seconds to realise what was happening. The elf prince was tearing wildly at his chest, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain and a heart-wrenching scream shattered the peace of the morning. A pain so great shot through his chest that he felt that he was being torn apart from the inside. Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn dropped down beside their friend, holding onto the writhing elf, not knowing what to do.

"Help him Elladan!" Aragorn pleaded desperately to his elven brother hoping that he would somehow know some miracle cure. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he felt as if his heart had sunk to his stomach.

"How?!" Elladan asked hopelessly, looking back and forth at his brothers, a stab of panic shot through his heart. "I don’t know what to do!" he said with fear evident in his deep brown eyes.

"I'll get Father!" Elrohir offered but before he even got onto his feet, Elrond was already rushing towards them.

"What happened?!" the elf lord demanded loudly having to make himself heard over Legolas’ agonising screams. The trio shook their heads helplessly. Elrond reached down and pulled the thrashing elf up against his chest, trying to calm him to no avail. In the blind struggle, Legolas found one of Elrond's hands and latched onto it for dear life, squeezing down hard until the older elf winced in pain. The scream soon turned into a choking sob as the young elf had exhausted all his strength, his body shaking uncontrollably and his breath coming in short gasps. This was the time when Elrond cursed the high endurance of elves and he prayed desperately that the prince would succumb to the pain and fall into unconsciousness soon. He thanked the Valar when the trembling figure went limp in his arms.

*~*~*~*~*~*

He was safe and free from pain. Maybe if he stayed in the darkness, the pain would leave him be. But the persistent and annoying voices were calling out to him, urging him to leave his safe haven. Someone's hand was resting on his forehead and soon he felt the darkness slowly dissipating and a warm light infiltrated his mind. An involuntary moan escaped his throat and his eyes fluttered opened momentarily only to be assaulted by the bright light that spilled into the room from the open window. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from the light, groaning in disgust.

"Elladan, lower the shades," Elrond prompted his son and turned back towards Legolas. "It's all right now," he soothed the young elf, brushing a strand of stray blond hair that had fallen loose across his pale face.

Legolas blinked a few times, clearing his blurry vision and as his eyes came into focus, he found himself staring into a pair of intent grey eyes. "W-What happened...?" his voice came out croaked and raspy.

"I was hoping you could tell us," came a soft reply from behind the elf lord.

Elrond threw a glance over his shoulder and shook his head at the younger twin, silently asking him not to bring up the subject so soon. He helped Legolas up to a sitting position and brought a cup of cool liquid to his lips which elf gratefully accepted.

Pushing the cup away after taking a few sips of the drink offered to him, the miserable elf choked off and looked away guiltily, "I-I'm sorry...," Elrond eased him back onto the pillows and he sighed as he lay propped up against the soft bed. The elf lord moved away and Aragorn took the spot he vacated in a flash. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and pulled the elf into a quick embrace.

"No, it is I who should apologise," Aragorn's eyes shone with unshed tears as he eased his friend back onto the pillows. "I'm sorry for pushing you to tell me things which you're not ready to," his voice trembled slightly.

"I am as ready as it will ever be for I cannot hide the truth from you... from all of you any longer." Legolas took a deep shuddering breath and recounted the events that had happened from the time he was captured to the day Aragorn found him curled up on the forest floor. He started cautiously, not wanting to go into the details but as he went on, he found that he could not hold back the horror and pain that had plagued him since the fateful day. He retold everything, leaving nothing out.

"I cannot – will not sacrifice all of Middle Earth just to save my own life. The need of many outweighs the need of one," he sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "And even if I did deliver Vilya, there will be no way to know if Delund will give me the anti-poison for evil creatures were not known to keep promises," his voice trembled. The tears that he had been trying to hold back for so long finally found their way down his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Upon hearing the confession, Elrond dropped down beside the bed and brushed the tears away from the prince's face. "My poor child," he whispered sadly, stroking the elf's face gently and finally planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "We will help you through this, I promise. Rest now and regain your strength for you have gone through a great ordeal."

Legolas relaxed into the softness of the bed as Elrond eased him down and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. His eyes soon became glazed and unfocused as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

After making sure that Legolas was resting comfortably, Elrond moved silently towards the window, staring out from it with unseeing eyes. Three pairs of eyes watched him curiously from behind as he leaned against the window and sighed, his mind trapped in some long-ago memories. "Father? Father? Are you well?" It took Elladan two tries to snap Elrond out of his reverie. Turning his head to face his three sons, the elf lord sank into a large chair beside the window and motioned them to join him. The three gathered around their father, settled on the floor and waited silently. "He was my brother," his voice so soft that the twins and Aragorn could barely hear him. Sharp gasps came from his children as the truth was revealed to them.

"Delund? Your brother? But… How can that be?! You have never told us of another brother," the words rushed out of the younger twin, still shocked by the revelation made by his father.

"His name was not mentioned in this house for he had brought disgrace to the family. But I think it is time for you to know the truth." Looking at his sons, his eyes soft and sad, he continued the tale.

Delund was an orphan. His parents were killed along with many faithful warriors while guarding Lindon against a band of invading orcs. He was still a young elfling then, barely a hundred years old. Earendil and Elwing, parents of Elrond, had taken him into their family out of compassion. He was much loved by them and brought great joy to their lives for many centuries. But things started to change after the birth of Elrond and Elros. Delund became more aggressive and demanded more attention, and his behavioural change worried both Earendil and Elwing. Jealousy of his younger brothers began to set in and as the years passed, he became more and more withdrawn. The spark in his eyes had begun to fade and the once beautiful voice was hardly heard anymore. The twins never got along with him and would make themselves scarce whenever he was around. Things were stressful in the house for many millennium and finally, Elros chose the life of humans and left Lindon for he did not find the peace that he wanted in his home anymore. Then came the fateful day when Gil-Galad presented the ring to Elrond. Delund was furious. He was the eldest child in the family and yet the ring was passed on to his younger brother. Things went from bad to worse soon after. An unsuccessful attempt to take the ring by force was made and a second attempt almost ended Elrond’s life. Finally, it was decided by the advisors that Delund should leave Lindon, never to be allowed into his home again. The name was never mentioned again…. until today.

"This was also the reason why concerns were raised by the advisors when I took Estel into the family for they fear that history might repeat itself. But I have faith in you, my son," Elrond placed his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder and gave him an assuring squeeze, "I know you will not become like him," a gentle smile broke across his stern face. "But we have more pressing matters to deal with at this time." He stole a glance at the sleeping elf. "We will need to find out more about this poison, how it works and how we can counter it. We have four days before his next attack and we must work fast. Elladan, Elrohir, you will help me with this task. Estel, I know you would want to stay so I will leave you be," and with that the three elves left the room quickly.

Aragorn settled himself onto the floor beside the bed, drawing his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his legs. Guilt welled up inside him as he thought of the reason that brought Legolas to Rivendell. If it was not for the letter he sent… if it wasn’t for him… Legolas would still be in Mirkwood, safe in the realm of his father’s kingdom, and none of this would have happened. It was entirely his fault. He should have paid more attention and confronted his friend when he started acting strange instead of dismissing it so carelessly until now. And because of his carelessness, his friend had suffered silently, with no one by his side during his most vulnerable moments. No one but he himself was to be blamed and worst of all, there was nothing he could do to help his friend. What if Legolas could not withstand the torture any longer? What if they could not find the cure in time? What if they had no other choice but to give in to Delund’s demand? What if Legolas tried to take his own life to relieve them from this predicament? The last thought scared him immensely and it sent a cold shiver down his back. Why it had come to his mind he had no idea. His chest constricted tightly, making each breath difficult and painful. Agony ripped through his heart as he thought of all the sufferings the elf had to endure. He would have given up his life in exchange for his friend’s deliverance if the choice were his. His breath hitched slightly as a strangled sob escaped his lips. The day’s events replayed themselves in his head and he kicked himself mentally for not noticing the distress in his friend for the past month. He desperately hoped that the friendship that they had built up throughout the years would not be cut short due to this incident and with that last thought lingering in his mind, he dropped his head onto his knees. Sobs racking through his body and tears streaming down his pain-filled face.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It seemed like he had been walking forever. And yet he was only just down the hall from his room. He looked around, confused, and found nothing.

Legolas felt a cold chill run through his body. Something was very wrong.

As he walked through the hallways of the House of Elrond, his dread only increased with each step. Everything was far too quiet, and he had not seen anyone at all throughout the house, save his own reflection. Fear enveloped him, and he quickened his pace. He turned the next corner, and what he saw froze his movement, mid-step. The usually pristine floor of the hall was covered in blood, its dark color contrasting greatly with the light tone of the decor around it. Legolas allowed his eyes to wander up the hall slowly, and his heart clenched in his chest, all air leaving his lungs. In the middle of the pools of red were four dark haired figures, lying completely still.

"No..."

The elf prince found himself kneeling next to the first, Lord Elrond, before his brain had even registered his movement. The elf Lord's eyes were closed, and tears began welling up in Legolas' eyes. He reached out and pressed his fingers to the side of the other elf's neck.

Nothing. Lord Elrond was dead.

Without giving himself time to even comprehend what was going on, his legs had carried him to Elladan and Elrohir. The elder twin had his arms protectively wrapped around his brother. They were deathly pale, and with a shaky hand Legolas reached out to check their pulse, as he had done with their father...

His hand fell distractedly to the ground. Dead. Legolas' mind was reeling. What had happened here? Where was the Rivendell guard? And Glorfindel and Erestor? His brain was still fogged from the pain of his attack earlier that day, and he could not force it to think clearly. His thoughts were shattered when he heard a moan from a few feet away. His head shot up, and he quickly ran to the source of the noise. Aragorn.

His friend was covered in blood, and he had a deep wound running the length of his chest. Legolas felt the tears finally make their way down his face, as he could no longer hold them back.

"Aragorn..." Legolas' voice trailed off as the human grabbed hold his wrist, gripping it painfully. Legolas jumped slightly in shock, but attributed it to the fact that Aragorn was so badly hurt.

"Legolas," he started, and there was a bitterness in his voice that had never been there before, "you should not have come here."

Legolas shook his head, trying desperately to grasp what his friend was trying to say. He didn't seem to be making any sense.

"Aragorn... I... I don't understand."

The ranger repeated himself, his voice hard and cold. "You should not have come here, Legolas."

In that moment, the elf felt and icy fear grip his heart, as though it were trying to tear the organ from his body.

"This is your fault Legolas. You should have stayed out in the forest."

"Aragorn..." Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head against his friend's words, although he knew them to be true.

"It is your fault that my father, and my brothers are dead. You are weak, Legolas. And because of your weakness, you have killed us all."

Legolas began to shake his head more emphatically.

"No." The word was merely a whisper. Fresh tears fell from his eyes, as the elf's mind confirmed everything the ranger was saying.

*You killed them. You are weak. It is your fault that your friends are dead. You are pathetic. It's your fault.*

"Strider... I..." Legolas used the human's nickname, hoping to somehow make up for what he had done, but he knew it would matter little. He had killed his best friend and his family. How could he ever be forgiven? How could he ever forgive himself?

"It's your fault. You are weak. You are to blame, Legolas. It's your fault."

And with those last words, Aragorn's eyes slid shut and he fell into the waiting arms of death.

Legolas collapsed onto his friend and slipped his arms around him, crying softly.

"Strider, no. Please don't leave me. I am sorry. Please... matho foech, mellon nin. Matho foech..." His voice trailed off, overcome by the sobs wracking his body. His friends were dead, and it was his fault. He tightened his embrace on Aragorn's body.

//I am sorry, my friend. I am sorry.//

"No! Strider, no. Come back... please, Estel... no..."

"Legolas?"

Aragorn, who had fallen asleep on the floor next to the elf's bed, sprang swiftly to his feet. "Legolas? What's wrong?" As he sat on the edge of the bed, the man realized Legolas was caught in the throws of a dream. His eyes were pressed tightly shut, and he could see the shimmering tracks of tears on his cheeks in the dim moonlight.

"Aragorn..." Legolas shook his head slowly in his sleep. Worriedly, Aragorn placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Wake up, Legolas. I'm right here. It's all right. Ea na gwiil. Na nefach, mellon nin. Gwiil."

//Be at peace. I am here, my friend. Peace.//

Suddenly Legolas jerked into a sitting position. He looked around the room nervously for a moment, not quite comprehending what had happened. Then his gaze fell on Aragorn.

"Estel?" Legolas looked like a deer in headlights, and it unnerved the man greatly. He had never seen his friend so openly frightened before.

"Yes, I'm here, my friend. It will be all right." Aragorn reached out to grasp the elf's shoulder. He was surprised when Legolas pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Estel... matho foech. I am so sorry, my friend. I'm sorry."

Aragorn did not quite understand why the prince was apologizing, but decided this was not the time to question it. Instead he wrapped his arms around Legolas' shoulders and said nothing.

A few minutes later, Aragorn released the elf. "You should get some sleep, Legolas. You need rest."

The elf nodded slightly and lay back down in the soft bed. Aragorn pulled a chair from the corner of the room over to the bedside and sat down in it, keeping a close watch over his friend. Soon, he saw the elf's eyes unfocused. Legolas drifted slowly to sleep. A peaceful sleep, unplagued by guilt-ridden dreams.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The House of Elrond was a bustle of noise and motion. Councilors and servants alike were scurrying in and out of room after room. It seemed that the whole of Rivendell was in an uproar. Although that was to be expected. It didn't take long for information to leak, rumors to start, and word to spread throughout the realm like wildfire. At the moment, there was one word that was on the tongues of every citizen in Imladris. One word that echoed through the valley and hung in the air, like a fog, clouding over all else. Delund. Few people knew the actual circumstances for the resurfacing of the name, but even fewer cared. Many had been alive at the time of Delund's exile, and had been witness to his treachery. All the elves of Rivendell loved and deeply respected their Lord, and simply hearing the name spoken again sent a spike of fear and anger through their hearts. The elves swore they would do whatever was necessary to protect Elrond and his family.

Inside the palace, however, everyone had a very different agenda. The elf lord was in his private study, sifting through parchment after parchment, looking for anything that would give him more information about the poison Legolas had been introduced to. The twins were in the palace library, and Glorfindel and Erestor were looking through some long forgotten books and papers that had been moved to the storerooms.

As he finished reading the scroll in his hand, Elrond dropped it to the table disgustedly and pinched the bridge of his nose. They had been searching for hours now to no avail. The thought of what he would do if they were unable to find any information on the poison nagged at his mind. He could not allow Legolas to die. He was a prince. One of the few members of elven royalty left in Middle Earth.

Relations between Rivendell and Mirkwood had been strained ever since the defeat of Sauron and the death of Oropher, and though Elrond had always sensed a quality about Legolas that set him apart from his father, he had never given it much thought. Then by some twist of fate, Legolas and Aragorn met and, almost instantly, became the closest of friends. It did a great deal to alleviate the tension between to two elven realms. But more than any of that, Legolas had become like another son to him. Losing him would be the same as losing Aragorn or one of the twins. It was unthinkable. In a way, he had already lost one loved one to Delund's treachery. Elros. He would be damned if he was going to lose another.

As the elf Lord let his thoughts consume him, he could not shake the feeling that everything happening was his fault. He smiled ruefully as he realized this must be how Elladan and Aragorn feel when he chastises them for always blaming themselves. His mind wandered, and his memories tore at his heart.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 16 - The Ultimate Sacrifice

Elrond was snapped out of his reverie by a soft knock at his door. He glanced up and saw his twin sons standing in the entranceway. He smiled and motioned for them to come in and sit down, noticing for what was far from the first time just how similar the two were to himself and Elros.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, the elf lord addressed his sons. "Were you able to find anything?" he asked them, even though he could tell from their dejected faces what the answer would be.

"No, not a thing. Not even a hint as to what this poison is, or where it can be found," Elrohir sighed. "You, father?"

The elf lord shook his head. "No, nor Glorfindel and Erestor," Elrohir added. "We spoke with them before we came to see you."

"Well we have to do something," Elladan said as he abruptly stood from his seat. "We cannot just sit here and let Legolas die!"

Elrohir glanced at his brother, and the look in his eyes spoke of the same feelings as Elladan’s words. Elrond sighed heavily, and looked at the papers on his desk.

"I think I have an idea."

Two pairs of eyes were on him immediately and Elrohir fidgeted uncomfortably under their gazes.

"So? What idea?" Elladan stared at his younger brother intently wondering what Elrohir had come up with.

"Why don’t we go look for Delund and ask him for the antidote."

Elladan whacked his brother upside the head. "Are you insane?!" he shouted into Elrohir’s face making his brother cringe. "What kind of stupid idea is that?!"

"Well, what else can we do?! We have gone through everything. I mean EVERYTHING!" The young elf shouted back and then sank deeper into the chair with an exasperated sigh. He felt so helpless. It seemed like there was no hope, only despair.

"Children," Elrond broke the tension between the two brothers. "We have been at this for days and you are tired. Go get some rest." Turning to Elrohir, he patted his distraught son on the shoulder but he could not find any words of comfort for there were none.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The morning sun was warm and gentle, her soft rays reflected off the leaves and branches. Strolling through the garden, Legolas took in every detail in his surrounding; the velvety petal of the flowers, the perfectly shaped leafs, their brilliant colors and the sweet fragrant. Life was so precious… especially when it was suddenly cut short. It was hard to accept the fact that his life would be terminated in such an unnatural way. He had always thought his death would come in battle, not from some poison that was slowly eating up his body and soul. He wondered if humans felt the same since their days were numbered. For a being who live forever, he could never understand how man could go on knowing that each day that passed would bring them a day closer to death… until today.

A cool breeze swept past him and carried with it faint voices from the far side of the garden. He did not mean to eavesdrop but the topic of the conversation caught his attention. Not daring to move too close to where the sound came from in fear of being discovered, he leaned against a tree, straining to make out the owner of the voices.

"I will not risk his life for some ring!" the familiar voice drifted over the plain.

"It is not just ‘some’ ring," the unfamiliar voice countered. "There must be another way."

An exasperated sigh was heard from the elven lord.

"We have searched through almost all of the books and papers in the house and…" the sentence was cut off when the wind died down. For a few minutes, all that could be heard was some distant whispers before the wind picked up again.

"Time is running out. I have decided."

"As you wish, My Lord," and with that, the conversation ended.

Legolas’ mind reeled, his heart pounded fiercely in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. The ring! Lord Elrond was preparing to give up Vilya for his sake! The very thing that he had feared would happen was actually happening. He was only one, but Vilya held the fate of thousands. And now because of him, the whole of Middle Earth was in danger. He could not allow it and he would do anything to stop it! But how? A chill ran down his spine and his heart sank. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead and dripped down his face and neck. His chest constricted tightly and the air seemed to have become thinner, so thin that he could hardly breathe. He forced his lungs to work but they see to have detached themselves from his mind. Feeling light-headed, he swallowed hard and willed the world to stop spinning before his eyes. How?! His mind raced while struggling to get air into his lungs. Remove himself from the equation, run away, a voice rang out inside his head. No. They will easily track him. Besides, he could not get far in his condition. He needed to disappear from their lives, to somewhere they could not follow. There was no alternative. The only way was to sacrifice the one for the sake of the many.

With his mind made up, his body suddenly relaxed and gasped as cool air flooded into his tortured lungs. His head cleared and he found himself in the woods but had no recollection of how he had gotten there. Running water could be heard from a distance and the elf realised that he was near the waterfall that he and Aragorn loved so much. Aragorn. The image of the human’s face burned into his mind.

*I will miss you*

Slowly, he found his way to the waterfall, taking in the surrounding along the way. This would be the last time he would see Rivendell, the last time he would see the trees and hear the birds sing. But he would never see Mirkwood again. His home… his father… his friends… he could not even say goodbye.

The elf was shivering now, so hard that his knees no longer had enough strength to hold him up. He crumpled and landed beside the lake in a heap, the impact wrenched a sob out of him. Tears flowed down freely from his face and he choked back a small cry.

*Please forgive me Strider*

He unsheathed the small hunting knife that he always carried with him.

*Do not blame yourself*

He pressed the sharp blade against his neck.

*Time may come between us but our friendship will never die*

The blade broke his fragile skin and bit into his soft flesh, a thin trail of blood snaked down his neck.

*We will be together again… in our dreams*

His eyes closed.

*Namarie*

He pressed the knife down harder cutting deeply into the artery and was prepared to severe it completely with a downward slash but a sharp pain in his right hand ceased any further action. Letting out a yelp, his eyes snapped open as the knife dropped from his hand but his earlier action had already opened a deep gash on his neck. Blood poured out at an alarming rate soaking into his light green tunic. His vision blurred as the life slipped slowly out from his body and he fell backwards onto the grass. Darkness closed upon him and a numbing cold spread out from his extremities creeping slowly to the rest of his body.

*So this is how it feels to die.*

He closed his eyes and drifted into nothingness.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Elrond searched the house for Legolas. He wish to discuss what he intended to do with the elven prince. After all, the matter concerned him. Celeborn and Galadriel had come across a concoction in an ancient parchment. The treatment was a risky one for they did not know what effects it would have. It may or may not work. If worked, it may delay the attacks or may ease the pain. On the other hand, if something went wrong, it may worsen his condition or may even kill him. The discussion with one of his counsellors earlier in the morning had almost ended in an argument. His counsellor had claimed his decision to be rash and unsafe but he had insisted on trying. He needed to speak with Legolas but the elf could not be found anywhere.

The concern for the elf’s whereabouts brought Elrond to his human son. The elven lord explained the situation to Aragorn and wished him to locate his friend as soon as possible. After some queries, he was directed to the last known location of his friend.

Finding a set of tracks leading out of the courtyard into the woods, he followed it, knowing that it would eventually lead to his missing friend. The tracks were obvious and easy to follow and it was clear that Legolas had headed towards the waterfall. Quickly, the ranger strode in the direction of the waterfall and moments later, he made out the silhouette of an elf sitting by the lake. He saw the elf hold something to his neck and his heart stopped. A glimmer caught his eyes as sunlight reflected off the blade of the knife.

"NO!!" he screamed but he was still too far away to be heard. Aragorn broke into a run but he realised that he could never make it there in time to stop what Legolas was doing. Braking to a stop, the ranger pulled out his bow and notched an arrow quicker than he would imagine he could and took aim. The bowstring was drawn back tightly against the bow. He only had one shot. If he missed, the prince would be dead, either by his own hands or by the arrow from his best friend’s bow.

The arrow flew and time slowed, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Aragorn watched as the arrow sailed through the air straight at the elf and for a moment, he thought that the arrow was going to pierce Legolas’ heart. He stood frozen to the ground and watched as the arrow grazed the elf’s right hand making him lose his grip on the knife. Then he saw the prince’s light green tunic slowly turned a dark shade of brown. Terror swept through him as he witnessed the elf went limp, the shock finally brought him back to his senses. Throwing down his bow, he made a mad dash towards his fallen friend.

Blood gushed out from the deep wound on Legolas’ neck and Aragorn knew that there was no way he could stop the bleeding. Pinching the laceration together with his fingers in a futile attempt to slow the blood loss, he ripped off a strip from his tunic with his teeth. With his free hand, the ranger pressed the cloth tightly against the cut.

"Why? Why?!" he asked bitterly while cradling Legolas’ head in his lap. The young prince’s face had turned a sickly shade of grey and his hands were icy cold. He needed to get him back to the house but there was no way he could carry the elf with one hand. And if he let go of his other hand, his friend would surely bleed to death before they even set foot into the house. The human sat there and watched as the blood soaked through the cloth and sipped out between his fingers. It was a lose-lose situation.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Elrond paced back and forth in his study. Ever since they discovered the truth, Legolas had stopped pulling his disappearing tricks. He had allowed them to help him through the past two attacks but now the prince had vanished again without leaving any word. He could not help worrying so he had sent his youngest son to search for the elf. That was almost an hour ago. Elrond walked to his desk and sank into the comfortable chair that somehow did not seem too comfortable at that moment. Resting his elbows on the wooden surface and burying his face in his hands, he took a trip down memory lane.

The situation with the elven prince had stumped everyone. Countless meetings were held which lasted until early hours in the morning. Every book, paper and parchment in the library were sieved through as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. Finally, with all resources spent, Elrond suggested seeking help from Celeborn and Galadriel. It took some persuading before Legolas agreed but had requested that his identity be kept secret. He did not want the news to be spread to his father’s kingdom. It was pointless to have his father worry over something that they had little control over. He had written a letter detailing all that had happened and in the event of his death, it was to be sent to Mirkwood.

Letters were exchanged between Rivendell and Lothlorien by carrier pigeons. The days passed by swiftly but still no solution had been found. Legolas had suffered two more attacks since then, each of the attacks more severe than the previous one and it took him longer to recover his strength. But at least now he didn’t suffer alone. He was among friends even though there was nothing they could do but be supportive. They watched as he cried out in pain, his screams tore at their hearts and each tear he shed took away a piece of his soul. Panic rose among the elves of Rivendell. If they do not find a cure soon, there will be nothing left to cure. Eventually, Galadriel came across something that may be of use but she did not know what effect it would have for no records of successful usage was documented. The treatment may help alleviate the symptoms but it may make it worse. Elrond wanted Legolas to make the decision himself whether to try or to forgo it.

A soft knock at the door brought the elf lord back to the present. His twin sons stood at the door looking at their father worriedly. Elrond forced a smile and he rose, nodding for them to enter. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances and then followed their father to the large window which overlook the garden below.

"You have decided," Elladan stated quietly.

Elrond gave a curt nod.

"He would agree," Elrohir put in softly.

"Yes he would," the elf lord turned around and looked his sons in the eyes. "It is either that or the ring and you know that he would rather die than have me give up Vilya."

The twins nodded understandingly.

"Come. Let us see if your brother has managed to find our mysterious elf." Elrond placed his hands around each of his sons’ shoulder and led them out of his study.

*~*~*~*~*~*

While keeping pressure on the neck wound, Aragorn pulled the frail body against him, pressing Legolas’ head on his shoulder. He rested his chin on top of the elf’s head and his eyes brimmed with unshed tears. He kept asking himself why but no answer came to him. Legolas’ decision shocked him. It was not unheard of for elves to die from injuries or a broken heart but he had never heard of an elf trying to take his own life. Blood seeped slowly through the makeshift bandage and soaked into his tunic. Feeling the life of his friend slipping away by the seconds in his arms, Aragorn pulled the elf a little tighter against his chest as if by doing so, he could somehow hold on to his soul. Something hard pressed painfully into his ribs. Reaching into his tunic unconsciously to remove the offensive object, his hand closed around a glass tube… the birthday gift from Elrohir. His heart leapt. There may still be hope yet.

Crushing the glass with his bare hand, the young man released the contents of the tube onto the grass. Ignoring the stinging pain in his hand, Aragorn picked out the athelas leaves, chewed on them and carefully packed the paste into the gaping wound. Ripping more cloth from his clothing, the ranger bandaged the wound as tight as possible without cutting off the elf’s air supply. He sat and waited and prayed… and watched with hope as the bleeding slowed. A tiny spot appeared on the bandage but did not spread. Aragorn let out the breath that he did not realise that he was holding and made a note to thank his brother when they get back.

Aragorn slid his left hand down Legolas back, placed his right hand under the elf’s knees, and with one swift movement, lifted his friend into his arms carefully. Making sure that he had a firm grip on the body, Aragorn made his way carefully but quickly towards home, afraid that any jarring movement would aggravate the prince’s injuries further.

Despite his vigilance and the use of the healing herb, the wound started to bleed sluggishly again several minutes into the journey. Blood saturated the bandage and made its way into the elf’s tunic. Aragorn felt the wetness sipping slowly through Legolas’ clothes and into his own sleeve. The ranger quickened his pace and sprinted forward knowing that stopping was not a choice and the life or death of Mirkwood’s prince depended solely on whether he made it back to his father in time or not.

Running with someone in your arms was not an easy task. It should be easier if he could throw the body over his shoulder but that was currently not an option. The ranger tripped and stumbled many times almost dropping his precious burden at one point. Sharp pains shot through his arms and back from the exertion as he pushed his body to do the impossible. His lungs burned, as the air he breathed in was not enough to compensate for the oxygen consumed by his exhausted body. Aragorn commanded his feet to move forward via sheer will power and soon his hard work paid off. The gates of the Last Homely House loomed before him and moments later, he staggered unsteadily into the courtyard panting heavily.

Elrond and his twin sons stepped into the field just in time to see the ranger stumble in with a bundle cradled against his chest. The trio hurried across the field towards the near-collapse human and Elladan promptly relieved him of his burden and sprinted back into the house. Noting the blood on Aragorn’s hands and tunic, Elrond did a quick scan of his human son.

"Are you hurt?" the elf lord asked as he looked the ranger over.

Aragorn shook his head and waved him on motioning them to treat the elven prince. Leaving Elrohir behind to see to the exhausted ranger, Elrond followed briskly behind Elladan.

Aragorn panted heavily trying to catch his breath. With his body bent forward, he braced his hands on his knees and hissed as the glass shards that had been embedded in his right palm cut into his flesh. With the adrenaline surge worn off, the young man found that his legs no longer wanted to support his weight and he plopped down onto the grass and placed his head between his knees, still gasping for air. Noting his brother’s reaction, Elrohir grabbed the human’s hand, turned it palm-up and grimaced at what met his eyes. The skin was torn and bloody and numerous bits of glass still buried deeply in the flesh.

"Come Estel, let’s go get this cleaned up," the younger twin said as he helped Aragorn onto his feet. "And you can tell me what happened."

Aragorn nodded his appreciation and allowed his brother to help him into the house. As they passed by Legolas’ room, the ranger saw his father and brother bent over the bed working fervently on the wood-elf and his feet detoured automatically from their original course and brought him through the open door. Elrohir tried to steer him away but Aragorn rooted himself firmly on the ground and refused to budge. Sighing in defeat, Elrohir pushed his brother down onto the floor and went to his own room to retrieve his healing pack. Elrohir returned moments later and proceeded to clean the wounds on the human’s hand. Using a pair of tweezers, he picked the glass shreds carefully out of Aragorn’s palm but the ranger was completely oblivious of the pain. All of his attention was focused on his father, Elladan and the figure lying on the bed.

It took Elrohir almost fifteen minutes to pick out all the glass shards embedded in his brother’s palm but the ranger had been silent all that time. Mixing some powdered dried herbs into the basin, Elrohir dipped Aragorn’s hand gently into the warm solution and the human hissed as the water stung his wounds.

Elrohir smiled mildly, "Well, that got your attention. Now would you tell us what happened?"

Allowing his father to deal with the more delicate procedures, Elladan washed his hands and dried them on a towel before joining his brothers. "He did it to himself, didn’t he?" the older elf said in a soft tone as he sat down beside Elrohir, his legs crossed casually in front of him.

The human nodded. "I thought we have already sorted things out, that we would help him through with this." Aragorn shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea what brought on to this sudden change."

Elrohir stole a glance over his shoulders at his father and his gaze lingered there for a moment as he watched the healer expertly stitch up the open wound on Legolas’ neck with great care and precision. "The only way we can find out is to wait until he wakes." Turning back to Aragorn, Elrohir continued his ministration, bandaging the human’s hand with a strip of clean cloth.

Elladan watched as his twin brother fussed over Aragorn and raised his brow. "So what happened to your hand?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn gave a sheepish smile and turned towards Elrohir. "I have to thank you for what happened… to my hand that is." The human watched as Elrohir eyed him curiously at first and then realization slowly dawn upon him and the elf grinned.

"The tube of athelas I gave you for your birthday!" the dark haired elf exclaimed.

"Yes, and I never thought it would come in handy in such a crucial moment. Thank you." Aragorn clasped his brother on the arm with his left hand. He then turned towards Elladan. "And you too. If not for the bow you gave me, I would never be able to stop him in time. Your gifts saved my best friend’s life." Aragorn paused and then continued. "I thought I would kill him. I saw the arrow go straight for his heart!"

Elladan rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze to calm him down. "But it didn’t. Your aim was perfect. I couldn’t have done it better myself," the elf said with an encouraging smile.

Aragorn mirrored the smile and then prodded Elrohir in the arm lightly. "Can you make me another one of those… things?" he asked innocently. "Strictly for emergencies only!" the human added with a small laugh.

"With the rate trouble finds you, I think I’ll have to make you a score."

Aragorn rolled his eyes at his brother but a movement caught his attention. Elrond had moved away from Legolas’ bed towards the trio. The brothers got onto their feet and approached their father.

"Legolas will be fine," the elf lord informed them, "but he won’t be awake for several hours. I need to further research on the treatment remedy Lady Galadriel provided. Notify me when he wakes."

"We will, Ada," Elladan assured his father, "and I will have Celboril bring up lunch when it’s ready."

*~*~*~*~*~*

The sweet fragrant of tea greeted him as consciousness returned and he opened his eyes. Three indistinct figures sat huddled together on the floor beside the fireplace, talking softly among each other. Is this The Halls of Mandos? But it looked familiar, too familiar. In fact, the room looked exactly like the one in Elrond’s house, the one that he used to occupy every time he visited Rivendell. He felt groggy, and the pain in his neck was really bothering him. Does one carried the injuries from the realm of the living into The Halls of Mandos? He wondered. Reaching up to touch his neck, he noticed that his right hand was lightly bandaged too.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw two of the three figures stood up, one left the room and the other approached him. He squinted and tried to look through his hazy vision as the figure settled down beside him. Then the figure spoke… and it sounded a lot like his ranger friend.

"Legolas?" Aragorn touched the elf’s cheek lightly, "can you hear me?"

Legolas blinked hard trying to clear his vision. As the fog lifted, he saw that it was indeed Aragorn by his side. I’m not dead," the elf said flatly.

"Of course you’re not. Why would you want to be?" the ranger asked with sadness in his voice. "I thought we’ve agreed to defeat this evil together."

"Why did you save me? I’m nothing but a burden to you and your family," Legolas closed his eyes and looked away, his chest heaving with emotions and his voice trembled.

"Do not speak of such nonsense!" the authoritative voice of Elrond sailed into the room before its owner entered through the doorway. "You are anything but a burden. What in the name of Valar prompted you to take such foolish action?!" the elf lord scolded the younger elf. He was annoyed beyond description but at the same time worried half to death. Halting near the bed, Elrond stared down at the prince defiantly waiting for an answer.

"I will not allow you to give up Vilya!" the silvan elf pushed himself up to a sitting position with the help of Aragorn. "I would rather