Author's note: See what the adolescent mind can brew when boredom sets in? As I am currently going for something akin to a Gothic phase, I am all dark and grim in mind and this comes out in my literary works, as you can see.

Please be forewarned that this will contain minor slash, angst, and I have even gone so far as to include character death! Also, beware of sharp twists and cliff hangers, I have a thing for those too

( Cheers!

Thorn Dew'Pearled

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'Let me loose! Kill you! Kill you all!'

Legolas looked despairingly at the wildly struggling Aragorn, bound to the smooth grey bole of the strong young silky oak and screaming his obvious hatred at his companions. Gandalf seemed almost ready to silence him with his staff; and all were giving the inexplicably mad Ranger a wide berth. There seemed nothing to be done, aside from leaving him secured to the nearest sturdy object with tightly tied ropes.

Aragorn ceased his shrieking and writhing; sitting in silence and still for the moment as that which corrupted him ended its torment. 'Why is he so mad?' Pippin asked in a frightened whisper, shying away from Aragorn's silver-grey and malign glare. 'He was bitten by something, he was saying yesterday morn,' Merry answered in a hushed tone. 'Remember that thing what we heard was making a pain of itself up near Bree? I think it's gotten into him.'

'Why did you not speak of this before, that he was bitten?' said Legolas , turning to him. 'I was never asked,' said Merry carelessly and shrugged. 'I had forgotten until now.' It was only then that Legolas recalled that Aragorn had also told him. With a burning rush of foolishness he turned shamedly away.

'Gandalf, is there nothing you can do?' cried Boromir to the wizard, who stood outside the circle of firelight, the brim of his wide hat overshadowing his face.

'I have tried,' came the weary answer. 'Sun and moon and star know I have tried; yet all to no avail. I had thought he be made of sterner stuff, but it seems the maddening poison of the wound inflicted upon him by this - thing - seems to have taken him over completely. But is it poison? Has he truly been bitten, or is something else foul happening within him? Alas! I cannot tell.'

'Well his mind has gone amiss, that's for sure,' commented Sam darkly from his place beside Frodo, watching Aragorn with lowered brows as if afraid the Ranger may tear his bonds and leap for the throat of the Ringbearer. 'As my gaffer used to say, "Madness digs at the mind as frost does the crops," he said.

'And may your gaffer be blessed in his old age,' said Gandalf; 'but we have much more pressing matters to deal with. There seems little we can do, but it is naught short of cruelty to merely tie him and leave him.'

'We can barely approach the man,' said Gimli gruffly, testily tapping the flat of his axe on a hand. 'He's fallen further than a stone into a well.'

'We can still try,' said Legolas in determination, his keen eyes alight with the heaven's pale glow. 'Though I say for now we rest. I fear it will be folly to loose him; perhaps we should leave him until morning and then see what we may do.'

Half shrouded in shadow, Aragorn glowered at them, clenching and unclenching the fingers he longed to ease around their throats.

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'Aah!' Aragorn gave a small cry of pain, drawing breath through gritted teeth. 'Aragorn?' Frodo had wandered over to his side, and looked up at him worriedly. 'Fear not, Frodo,' Aragorn said with a careless laugh, one hand rubbing at his neck. 'Merely a mosquito or something of the like. Bit me, nothing serious.' _________________________________

Merry was to be on first watch that night. Fending off the irrepressable shades of slumber, he sat close to the fire wrapped warmly in his cloak and the blanket Legolas had given him to ward off the wintery cold, for Legolas said he had no need of coverings at night, although he so often seemed to shiver as if chilled.

'Merry.' A low voice called to him, soft and warm. 'Merry.'

Merry turned his head sideways a fraction and then pulled it back, ignoring the gentle call of Aragorn who sat with his arms slung over his knees and his back to the tree, the rope bonds still holding him there. 'Merry, will you not heed me? Why do you ignore me?'

'I-I am not ignoring you Aragorn,' Merry replied with feigned cheeriness, in an attempt to lift his own spirits for Aragorn's voice sent an unpleasant chill running up his spine.

'Then come and sit beside me, and we shall talk.'

'B-Boromir said I was to stay here,' Merry answered with a trembling firmness, venturing to look at the deceptively serene man with through the corner of his eye. 'H-he told me to sit here and watch.'

'Why do you listen to Boromir? He would harm you if he could, Merry; he is a spiteful coward. Be not his friend, he is evil.'

'H-he is not evil - you are!' cried Merry in raged defense, and tears were in his eyes. The others stirred, but only shifted before they fell deeper into their sleep; as he so longed to do and escape the taunting words of the demented Ranger.

'Evil?' Aragorn looked taken aback, but then the smug smirk had crept back across his face to complete his disquieting expression. 'Come and sit beside me. I wish to talk to you.'

'N-no, Boromir told me to stay here.'

'Boromir said nothing; he hates you.'

'He does not.'

'Oh, but he does Merry. He told me himself, told me how he longed to set dagger to your throat to be rid of your annoying stupidity.'

'H-he did not. He is a good friend, he would never say anything like that about anyone.'

Aragorn fell quiet for a spell, but his glinting eyes seemed to smile at the young hobbit with an unfriendly icyness. 'He hates you Merry,' he murmured, mouth curved in a cruel smile. 'Hates you with all the hatred in his stone heart.'

'Be quiet,' Merry whispered. 'I won't listen; I'm not listening.'

'You cannot ignore me.'

'Keep your words to yourself; I don't wish to hear them,' said Merry, bravery slowly breathing life into his leaden limbs and heavy heart.

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'Aragorn, you seem a little - strange this eve, my friend,' Legolas said to him as they sat together in the quiet shades of the fading evening. Aragorn scratched idly at the back of his neck. 'Is something the matter?'

'Nay, my friend, there is nothing,' Aragorn assured him, though the burning itch of his infliction was driving him insane, and he was becoming strangely light-headed. 'I was bitten by something earlier, and it is making itself known - and a real pain I might add.'

Legolas laughed lightly and clapped a hand on his shoulder. 'Alas that the smallest creature causes the biggest of problems,' he said. _________________________________

The next hour was miserable for Merry, having to endure the watchful eye of Aragorn, who was now silent but stared at him with an intensity of no name. On occasion dreadful words would fall from those tight lips, whispered with a thinly vieled malevolence. By the time Merry's weary watch was taken up by Boromir, he was weeping openly.

Boromir saw him leave with bemusement; the young hobbit retired teary- eyed and sobbing to his bed. At once his eyes fell on Aragorn, whose unrelenting smugness was daringly twanging at his nerves. 'What did you say?' he hissed, and advanced menacingly on the smiling Ranger.

Aragorn eyed him coolly and shrugged. 'I said naught but truth,' he said softly. 'I am a man of sworn oath: I never lie.'

Boromir's sharp glare did nothing to dissuade Aragorn's irritating attitude - if anything he seemed pleased and grinned disarmingly. 'Sit and talk with me a while, I grow lonesome on my tether,' said he, and patted the grass-patched ground beside him.

'I think I should take up my post,' said Boromir with a stiff coldness; and he took Merry's place beside the fire, often casting furtive glances in Aragorn's direction. The Ranger sometimes struggled with his bonds, and bit at the chaffing ropes on his wrists; other times he would hum to himself or tap his heavy boots on the dusty earth. Boromir paid him little heed, until Aragorn decided he had had enough of boredom and needed a little amusement; namely stirring trouble.

'Legolas said to me once,' he said, looking into the distance without expression, 'that he thought Gondor was naught but a waste of valuable land. He despises Gondor and all its inhabitants.'

'Then what has he to say of a certain exiled king?' Boromir replied curtly, disbelieving.

'Oh, many things,' said Aragorn with a raised brow. Boromir regarded him with a look of pure disgust; only encouraged, Aragorn continued.

'And what has he to say of a certain steward's son?' he said, almost as if to himself, and his expression become pensive. 'Many things again, but none pleasant.'

Boromir seemed to be ignoring him, but he pressed onwards. 'He told me he would keep a few arrows spare just for the sake of ridding Middle-Earth of you,' he said, and chuckled darkly. 'He despises you Boromir; hates you with a hatred beyond the wildest imaginings of Men. And your father - Legolas tells me he is undeserving of his position, should be cleaning stables rather than running a country with such a withered and incapable hand.'

At that Boromir rose, and his fist came down hard on Aragorn's cheek. The Rangers head was flung sideways, a stream of blood streaming from his partially open lips, and a livid bruise rising steadily on his face. 'Do not dare to speak of my father that way; he is a noble and righteous man,' Boromir snarled, grasping Aragorn by the collar. 'Keep your deceitful tongue behind your teeth, you filth.' At that he flung Aragorn back against the tree and resumed his watch; but inevitably tears sprang forth, and in the shadows Aragorn was satisfied over the induced misery and licked the blood from his mouth, wearing his sardonic smile once again.

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'You are burning a slight fever,' Pippin commented, one hand at Aragorn's brow and his own furrowed. 'Have you eaten something bad of late?'

'Not that I recall,' said Aragorn in confusion, and gave a small cry, dropping his head into his hand as sudden violent convulsions wracked his body.

'Aragorn?' cried Pippin worriedly, tapping his shoulder. With a rough shove the Ranger pushed the young hobbit away. 'Leave me alone you incessant little pest,' he growled. Pippin stared at him, disbelieving. 'B-but Aragorn, it's me,' he said, reaching out imploringly, only to have his hands slapped roughly away.

'I said LEAVE ME ALONE!' _________________________________

Legolas was the first to wake to morning's pale light, and on his waking he knew at once something was amiss; it was a nagging feeling that prodded constantly at his sensitive mind. Aragorn was still in his place, tied to the silky oak and with head bowed in fitful sleep. Often he twitched, and faint murmurings were just audible on the edge of the Elf's keen hearing. Curious and concerned, he wandered over and crouched beside the resting figure of the Ranger.

'N-no ... go away,' Aragorn muttered, and shook his head. 'Leave ... no, hate - kill and die ... hurt ... never ... no ... blade, yes, no, leave ... kill ... still ... silence ... no ... NO!'

He jerked awake with his shout, and found himself looking at once into the crystaline eyes of Legolas, devoid of both emotion and expression. 'Help me,' he whispered, and clutched desperately at the loose rusty-green sleeve of the Elf's right arm. Legolas drew in a shuddering breath and reached for Aragorn's bruised cheek, caressing the hurt with a light touch. 'Who did this to you?' he whispered.

'Help me,' Aragorn repeated, though his voice had receded to a dismayed whisper, and his head fell onto his chest. Suddenly it snapped back, and Legolas saw at once the change that had occured in him. He looked now into the eyes of a cold and merciless creature: he had found that which plagued and slowly killed his friend.

'Legolas?' murmured a sleepy voice, and Pippin eased himself upright, yawning and rubbing sleep dusted eyes. Legolas turned to assure him, but found himself instead on the ground with a painful stinging in his cheek. Aragorn, bound hands poised, sneered at him. 'Get away from me,' he hissed. 'I'll not have dealings with one of your folk.'

Pippin sprang to his feet and ran to help Legolas up. 'You had no right to do that!' he shouted angrily at Aragorn, while asking Legolas if he was all right. 'I am fine,' said Legolas idly, brushing the worried hobbit away. 'Leave him be, he is not in his right mind.'

'That's right, turn tail and run!' Aragorn cried after their retreating backs, and laughed maniacally, resting his head between his raised knees.

Pippin stared incredulously at him and tugged on Legolas' hand. 'Why is he like this?' he asked softly. Legolas glanced down at him and then resolutely straightened his back. 'Merry was right,' he said. 'There is something that has possessed him, this is not the true Aragorn; this is a demon who has dominated his will and speaks with his tongue.'

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'Gandalf! Gandalf, something's terribly wrong with Strider!' The wizard was roused by the shrill cries of Sam, who came rushing towards him in a fearful excitement of terror. 'Hmm? Aragorn you say?' he asked, lifting the brim of his hat the better to look at the hobbit.

'Yes!' exclaimed Sam breathlessly. 'He's gone all funny in the head; mad- like if you follow me. He tried to stab Boromir with one of Legolas' daggers, and he kept shouting at us he did; carrying on about how much he hates us and wishes we would die he was. Boromir and Legolas've got him on the ground now, we need you urgently.'

Gandalf snatched up his staff and hastened after the hobbit. _________________________________