Title: Tainted Innocence

Author: IndigoStarNight

Feedback: Yes please

Summary: A new predator hunts the woods surrounding Rivendell, but when it has the missfortune of choosing a certain Prince of Mirkwood for his prey, he had better watch out. Mature for gore, unpleasentries, Instance of rape and Implied rape

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or the characters.

Spoilers: Nope

Rating: R for instance of rape, implied rape, and gore

Warnings: Instance of rape, implied rape, and gore

Author's Note #1: So, when I originally wrote this story, it was NOT intended to be slash, however, far be it for me to tell you, the reader, that your interpretation of my work is wrong. So, if you, the reader, so choose to read this story with the mind that it is slash, be my guest. However, if it were written as slash, that would be rather painfully obvious.

Author's Note #2: Hey all, this story was posted on the other account I used to be using before I merged the two accounts, so I deleted it and am reposting it here. Formerly named "A New Enemy", but I decided that was dumb so I changed it. So, please review!

Enjoy!


Discovery

Aragorn smiled happily up at the setting sun. It was early evening and there was just the faintest tint of pink about the sky. The ranger walked on, he had three hours yet until the sun set completely, but he was in no hurry and he would easily reach his father's home by then.

He breathed deeply of the clean cool autumn air. It was his favorite time of the year, calm and peaceful as the plants and animals prepared for their long sleep through the winter. A cool breeze ruffled his long dark hair as he strode under the arching tree branches.

Suddenly the serene calm was shattered by a cry. Aragorn jumped, his sword half drawn as he ran toward the noise. The closer he got the better he could hear the soft sounds of distress, and the sounds of pleasure. The ranger did not know what made the sounds but he was certain that at least one of the parties involved was an elf, and that made his heart clench as he had many friends among the first born.

He ran full out, so intent upon following the sounds that he did not see the large fallen branch in his path. He tripped and went sprawling to the ground. In a flash he jumped to his feet again, cursing his carelessness and hoping that the noise had not alerted his query of his presence. He went forward more cautiously now, stealthily slipping from one to tree to the next.

He broke into a small break in the trees and looked about wildly for the sounds had stopped and he had no idea in which direction to go. After a minute or two of peering into the failing light Aragorn spied a lone figure leaning against a tree several yards to his right. He stepped forward slowly, his nerves battling with his caution. On one hand he had a strong suspicion as to whom the curtain of blonde hair belonged to, but on the other whatever had attacked his friend could be laying in wait to ambush him.

At a distance the elf appeared to be covered in tatters of a dark red cloth, but as Aragorn edged closer he saw to his dismay that it was not cloth, but slowly drying blood that covered his friend's otherwise naked body.

At last the ranger reached the distressed elf and took one last cautious glance around to be sure that no one, or nothing, was hiding in the surrounding trees, and immediately dropped to his knees next to his friend.

"Legolas," he breathed, anxiously checking for a pulse. For one heart stopping minute he could not find one, but then at last there it was, faint and over rapid, but still beating. The ranger took his friend's head in his hands, lifting it to examine his face. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat as he surveyed the split lip and swollen eye on Legolas' unnaturally pale face.

Legolas moaned and stirred, flinching away from Aragorn's touch.

"Shh, mellon-nin," Aragorn whispered trying to sooth the elf, "Be at peace." Legolas struggled to open his eyes.

"E…Es…. Estel?" He whispered dimly.

"Yes, yes I am here," Aragorn quickly cut the bonds around his friend's wrists that bound him to the tree and cradled the injured elf in his arms. Legolas shivered violently as Aragorn wrapped his cloak around the elf's thin frame. The prince of Mirkwood tried to say something else but instead he slipped away back into unconsciousness.

Aragorn spread his cloak on the ground and lay his friend on it to examine his wounds. The elf was bruised all over and had several large, deep lacerations on his chest and arms, and what felt like two broken ribs.

Barely noticing the tears flowing freely down his face, Aragorn searched desperately through his small bag of medicinal herbs he always carried with him for something to help Legolas. He found a few leaves of painkilling herbs but nothing else of use.

"Legolas," he said softly, trying to coax his friend into opening his mouth, "Eat these." The elf did not move and Aragorn had to force his mouth open and crush the leaves into it, thankfully Legolas swallowed on reflex.

Not having enough bandages for his Legolas' many wounds Aragorn glanced about hoping to find his friend's clothes. He found them laying in the loam a few feet away but they were soiled and torn to shreds, completely useless. With a sigh the ranger was forced to give up all hope of binding Legolas' wounds.

The only thing he could do for his friend was wrap his cloak tighter around the elf's pale trembling body and bare him toward Rivendell, where Elrond would be able to heal him.

Cold…it was…so cold…what had happened? He could not remember, no, he did not want to remember. He saw flashes…bits of memories…No…no please make it stop. He felt hands…hot hands, burning his skin…he tried to pull away…No! His mind screamed, No please! Wasn't it done with him yet? He tried to draw away, curl in on himself…all he wanted was for it to stop. Why…wouldn't…it stop?

It was well after night had fallen when Legolas began to stir. Aragorn nearly dropped him in surprise, having trudged in a daze like state for the past several hours, his only focus on getting his friend home as soon as possible.

"No…No please…. make it…. stop!" Legolas cried, struggling against Aragorn's gentle hold on him. Aragorn halted and carefully lay his friend down on the soft loam of leaves.

"Legolas?" He asked as he hurriedly checked his friend's pulse.

"No…. No!" the elf screamed, trying to pull away from him, shaking all over.

"Legolas, be a peace!" Aragorn cried desperately, hating seeing his friend in pain. The ranger felt his forehead, and was pained to find that the elf was delirious with fever.

"We must get you to my father," said Aragorn firmly as he scooped Legolas into his arms again, trying to ignore the elf's cries and pleas.

They were almost there…almost…just a few more steps. Aragorn could not think. He felt drops of blood hitting his boot; Legolas had lost too much. He had to go faster but his body would not obey him. There, he saw it, not far ahead, his father's house, Rivendell, the house of healing. It was not far, he could see it through a hazy cloud, cloud? When had the mist risen? He had not noticed.

He felt his legs trembling under him. Just a little farther, he prayed, but again his body would not listen. Just feet from the door his knees buckled under him. Gently he lay Legolas down on the ground, hoping that perhaps without the extra weight, slight though it was, he would be able to make it. He climbed painfully to his feet again. One step…two…he collapsed, he could not make it.

"Ada!" He tried to yell, hoping to call some one, anyone out. His vision darkened, he fought, and lost, using his last conscious breath to once again call for his father, then everything went black.