Anguish

The rain came down in a merciless torrent, pelting his already soaked skin with cold stinging drops. But the fire at least was safe from the onslaught for now. Spluttering from the occasionally errant gust of wind it slowly grew as he fed it with dried moss and bits of sticks he had found along the way and secreted in his clothing. He was almost, but not quite under the lip of half hidden outcrop of rock, but there was really room for only one and the fire and Aragorn needed the warmth more than he. So he stayed kneeling there, only his head, shoulders and hands under the low overhang, his body bearing the chill downpour.

It was said that elves were impervious to cold, heat, pain and emotion. But this was a myth perpetuated by unscrupulous men, who whispered to each other overnight fires and told tales boosted by a tankard of ale in inns and less respectable places. Of course this was not so. Elves were hardy true, for they did not succumb to illness, poisons, or mortal blows as quickly as men. But they bled just as freely; they hurt as badly and suffered loss as greatly.

Legolas himself had barely survived his elfling years for his naneth had been viciously cut down by orcs. He had immediately withdrawn from his family, not understanding why the stars did not fall from the skies and why the birds still sang when his world had effectively ended. He did not speak for an entire decade afterward. He had grown wild, disobedient and remained untutored for a hundred years. Then as he came into his adulthood, the king had tried to force him to dress and act as a prince of the realm.

Legolas had fought him at each turn in everything but training in swordsmanship, knife play and hunting. In these skills he excelled such that Thranduil had let him take the lead of any patrol that forayed into the darker wood on their southern borders. He thought that numerous encounters with the monstrous eight-legged beasts and rabid orc- kind would cool his son's ardour. But he had been wrong. The king was most upset to see his son grow even more feral.

Legolas lips crooked into a smile as he added a bit of moss to the fire, he recalled his father's horror at his almost mindless pursuit of the giant spiders. He had also become the best archer, hunter and rider in Mirkwood. Still for the most part he had kept away from his family, a fact that wounded the king mightily. However the years passed as they must, loneliness and want forced him out of his madness. He sought out the company of his many brothers and began to accompany them to Dale on their missions of trade and sometimes volunteered to bear communication to the houses of other elf-kind on behalf of the king. Thus the Golden Woods and the House of Elrond Half –Elven became havens of discovery to him. He began to learn that there was more to life than his own suffering.

By the time he encountered Aragorn through some unlooked for chance, a change had already overtaken him. In the ranger he found a companion who felt as outcast as he had, one who was on a journey of self discovery like himself.

Together they travelled and as they did he learned a different kind of patience and picked up whatever medicinal skill he could. Due to the young ranger's peculiar personage he learned humour and humility. Through Aragorn's giving nature he learned of friendship and affection. And now, Legolas looked at the dunadan's still body, they might both die out here in the wild.

It could be said that it was due to ill luck or even an ill fortuned decision that caused them to be stranded out in the wilds. The rains had come early that year in the upper reaches of the marshlands; it had swept down from the mountains inundated the rivers and covered the plains for as far as the eye could see. It had caused great mud slides and landslides that had buried far flung villages. It had also trapped the elf and the ranger in the upper reaches of the forest. They had stayed overlong in a farming village on the lower slopes of the mountain helping the women and the few young ones left harvest what crops they could, for those people had suffered a terrible loss through disease and a recent skirmish with a roving band of orcs.

The floods had hit when they were only quarter way up the valley. The far off roar of sound was all that Legolas heard before they were swept away. They lost both horses and all their provisions. Aside from being turned around and banged about badly, having to spend days in sopping wet clothes had caused Aragorn to develop a cough.

The days had seemed endless as driven by self preservation they continued their journey on foot. And every day the rains came and lasted for hours. One day at about mid time, Aragorn slipped for about the fifth time in mud that had turned to sludge and could not get up. So Legolas lifted him onto his shoulder and continued. But the rains were heavier than normal that day and continued way into the night forcing the elf to stop and seek refuge.

Legolas sighed as the rain came down even heavier than before. His fodder replete he turned and sat with his back to the rocky ledge, the new rainfall made no difference to him, he was already drenched, had been for days.

The heat from the fire soon spread into the rock ledge and after a little wait there was warmth at his back at least. During the long night Aragorn stirred many times and coughed wetly, but did not awaken. Legolas drifted in and out of elven dreams.

He shivered once as a particularly cold, fat drop slid down his neck.

"Ai, Valar," he sighed.

Prepared for hours of misery Legolas closed his eyes pulled his knees up to his chin and hugged himself. Day turned to night and still the rain fell. The fire died for there was nothing dry to feed it with. Legolas eventually slipped into deep, deep sleep.

Aragorn awoke when the rains stopped.

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Shivering, Aragorn twisted onto his side. It was fortunate for him that he had not sat upright immediately for he quickly realised a stone ceiling was just above his head. The earth smelled full and ripe. He squinted about him. There was mud...grass and wet. Groaning Aragorn turned onto his stomach and caught sight of a familiar back. Dragging himself forward on his elbows he pushed through the mud. Clear of the overhang he got to his feet.

"Legolas," he croaked.

But there was no response, Legolas was lost to dreams. Shuffling Aragorn found a dense thicket of shrubs and relieved himself. A wave of dizziness hit him almost immediately after. He stumbled over to the elf and hit the ground hard. The impact made the elf awaken in a rush. He leapt to his feet, knife at the ready.

"Nay," said Aragorn on his side, reaching for Legolas. "T'is naught but my own clumsiness."

Legolas looked down at the crumpled, sodden figure at his feet.

"Ah, t'is only you. I thought may be a herd of beasts had attacked us," he said with nary a smile.

This brought a rusty chuckle from Aragorn. With the aid of the elf's sturdy hand, the ranger was soon upright.

"This place is not familiar to me," said the ranger. His breath came in harsh rasps. Hands on hips he stood slightly hunched.

"T'is the upper reaches of the dark forest."

Aragorn made a face of pique and grumbled.

"What didst though say ranger, I did not quite understand that." Legolas cupped a hand behind one ear.

Laughing Aragorn shook his head. Legolas smiled at him. Both knew that the Dark Forest had more than its fair share of monstrous creatures. Blood feasting, light snatching, flesh eating creatures that took more than merely a sharp sword to kill. With no supplies and one set of weapons between them, forging a path through the dark forest seemed nigh impossible. Nevertheless that was their path.

"Let us make haste, 'ere the rains begin again," Aragorn suggested.

Legolas merely nodded but he was worried, while he could go on for quite a few days yet with no sustenance save water, Aragorn could not. They had not eaten in quite a time. He knew better than to broach the subject however.

Aragorn's belly rumbled again as it gnawed on emptiness. His legs felt like a great weight pulled at them through the earth. Step by heavy step he slogged his way through the waist high tangle of foliage, Legolas a few steps away. Many times he stumbled but he stubbornly refused to give in to his tiredness. To tarry here would put them in even greater danger. The rains had just begun and would fall even more frequently as the days passed. Often the elf would be at his side helping him up even before he realised that he had fallen.

He knew that Legolas wanted him to stop and rest but he felt the heaviness of his non-elven nature. Without his company Legolas would have been able to clear the highlands in a matter of days. It was foolish to think thus but he could not help it.

"Aragorn," Legolas's voice came from so close to him this time that he gave a start. The elf was in front of him, concern written all over his beautiful face.

"Twice before have I called your name ranger. We must find a place to rest. I will brook no argument."

Aragorn swayed in place, his eyes hurt and his body was sore, but he could feel a smile curve his lips.

"Yes ada," he rasped. "I will obey your wishes."

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It was just in time that Legolas finished creating a shelter. It was woven of shrub, saplings and the long grasses that grew in clumps here and there. They could both barely fit in the small space, but Aragorn grabbed hold of Legolas ere he could leave.

"Please, you are not impervious to this inclemency, my friend," he said and as Legolas hesitated he added. "And I need your warmth."

Legolas smiled at that, "Very well," he said and they settled down to wait out the downpour together.

The roar of it obliterated every other forest sound. Aragorn felt himself sag against Legolas numerous times. He could not help it, he was so tired. At least nary a drop of rain found its way to them for Legolas had carefully constructed his barricade against any influx. Aragorn's innards rumbled again, loud enough so that Legolas sighed,

"There should be game about after this is over," he said.

Aragorn nodded knowing that it would be hours yet.

The place turned cold. Aragorn shivered, even the elf's arm about his shoulders did not help. Little by little sleep stole over him. He managed to will his eyes open at least twice. But at last his head drooped. Legolas supported Aragorn's sudden weight. A frown marred his brow. They needed sustenance.

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There was not a squirrel or bird not e'en a small rodent to be found. Near the edge of frustration Legolas decided to gain higher ground. It was not easy going for the trees were drowsy and satiated, they resented the elf's intrusion. But he sang them back to an accepting lassitude and climbed higher and higher, crossing a bower of trees before he spotted any movement.

Aragorn woke up suddenly and found himself curled in a tight ball, alone. He breathed heavily, blinking errant strands of hair out of his eyes. His chest hurt and his hunger had grown mightily. Gathering strength he stuck his head out. The rains had ceased and the place had become a low lake. He watched the water eddy and swirl around his safe haven. The fool elf must have gone out as soon as the deluge stopped no doubt. Pressing his knuckles against his aching middle, he fervently wished his friend a successful hunt.

There was no dry tinder anywhere. So they would have to eat the meat uncooked. The haunch was a bit stringy but Aragorn chewed with desperate relish. Legolas had also managed to find a stash of nuts. These they divided for later use.

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It seemed the rains took pity on them because for the next few hours there was not a single drop. They hurried as much as they could, trying to get to the edge of the forest before it began again. Legolas was better off than the ranger for his feet did not sink into the thick sludge that was now the forest floor. They had not covered much more than two miles when Aragorn, breathing heavily stopped and leaned against a nearby beech. Mouth open gasping for air, he ran his tongue along his dry lower lip. Legolas looked around knowing that his friend had gone as far as he could for the moment. He looked up, not to watch the sky but because he thought he might be able to find them shelter among the plentiful branches.

"Up Strider, we will head for the higher branches; I fear the floods will come with malice after this long lull"

Aragorn looked up and groaned inwardly, climbing would tax his already waning strength. But Legolas was there lending a steady shoulder and strong hand to his overstretched limbs. Little by little they gained ground, resting only when the forest floor looked miles away. At last Aragorn tiredly sprawled along a large branch and closed his eyes. Legolas stood nearby; the elf was looking down below.

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Like a surging wave, water flooded the earth. Legolas watched the level of water rise until the forest floor was covered completely. Water gently lapped half way up the trunk of the tree upon which they sat. The shorter trees fared worse. He turned to look at his companion, but the ranger was in deep slumber.

"Ai Valar," sighed the elf.

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Aragorn did not think that he would be able to jump that far. He was much heavier than the elf and he found that the branch looked questionable.

"You have no choice mellon nin." Legolas was sombre.

"I cannot," Aragorn said his eyes a bit wild with fear.

"I will help you." Legolas trapped Aragorn's cold fingers within his, "trust me."

It was hard on them both. Aragorn's fear and reluctance taxed Legolas' endurance. The ranger was heavy as Legolas found each time he had to haul him up to safety when he fell short of the branches they were aiming for. By nightfall they were both twitching with exhaustion and had not made much progress. Legolas used his belt to secure Aragorn to a small but sturdy branch. Aragorn neither spoke nor resisted, there were tears in his eyes as he lay there trembling. He could not take much more of this. Eventually he drifted to sleep.

Legolas stretched along an accommodating limb, he was tired but could not sleep as easily as Aragorn, he was too tense. He had to find some other way for them to make their way through the forest.

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Aragorn's eyes opened slowly, he felt sluggish, his mouth was bitter and his vision was blurry. The knots of the branch on which he lay were painful under his cheek and chest. When he tried to sit up, he realised that he had been fastened to the tree.

With some effort he freed himself while studiously avoiding looking at the inundation below him. Legolas was nowhere to be seen. Eventually Aragorn looked up. There in the higher branches he could just make out the tip of a boot. His belly rumbled, grimacing he pressed the heel of his hand against his stomach.

"Oi elf!" he called up a smile touching his lips. The boot disappeared and a face took its place.

"Ah awake at last sloven ranger."

With two light springs Legolas was next to him. "I thought of an alternate way," said the elf.

"What way?" Aragorn questioned suspiciously.

"We swim," Legolas announced with a broad smile.

"Ai valar," sighed the ranger.

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The water was slick, Aragorn felt it sucking at him, but he let himself float free as Legolas slipped in silently next to him. The sluggish, relentless current took them further along than they had hoped. Yet for every mile they covered a foreboding grew in their minds. Many times the elf looked back as though expecting to see something on their heels. He pushed on when Aragorn called for a rest.

"Not yet Strider, I fear we may not yet be beyond harm's reach."

On they went, Aragorn treading water many times as the miles ground on.

But at last he breathlessly signalled to Legolas.

Throwing one quick look over his shoulder the elf's floated closer to him.

Aragorn gasped as he kicked with less and less vigour to keep in place. His grey eyes appeared sunken in his head. "I will rest elf, with or without your consent."

He licked lips that were dry though they were surrounded by a river.

There were low hanging branches within reach. Aragorn reached them first, and held onto the bark of the slim Acacia fervently. With many grunts, groans and great effort he climbed to higher tiers.

Completely drenched, miserable and hungry, Aragon felt tears of self pity slip down his already wet face from under tightly closed lids. He sprawled against the main trunk of the tree a picture of utter wretchedness. He could not move even if the Valar themselves commanded him to do so.

Hopping lightly to his side the elf placed one hand on the ranger's knee in commiseration and took stock of their situation. It was clear to him that they could not stay there. The forest was unsafe even during the dry time. But during the time of floods… well e'en Legolas could not bear to finish that thought.

The forest became a haven for creatures that lived deep in the rivers around. Creatures that chafed impatiently for the rains to begin each cycle, creature that longed for the tasty flesh of land dwellers, for the ability to capture new prey, prey that did not understand the rules of this new hunt. They longed to rend and gobble and feast. And quickly they must, for the rains would be gone all too soon and back to the rivers they must return.

Legolas managed to get Aragorn to go higher but only just. Securing him in the most comfortable position was his only option for he feared that the ranger would topple off his perch during slumber.

As dusk gathered, Legolas poised lightly on his toes high in the branches above the ranger. His ears were tuned for any audible sound, he scanned the waters below and the surrounding forest. The worry that had begun to niggle at the periphery of his senses had grown. Some type of malicious creature was on their trail. But he saw nothing to validate his feelings. Not in the rising waters, not in the nearby nor distant trees.

A slight groan from Aragon brought a frown to his brow. Food. He must find food.

The surface of the water was as smooth as glass. There was nary a ripple as Legolas slipped into its depths.

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A scream pulled Aragorn to startled consciousness. With a short gasp he rushed into wakefulness but his first attempt at rising was stopped by the vines that bound him. Stupidly he stared at his chest and legs but another piercing howl brought him rapidly to his senses. That scream was coming from Legolas. With frantic hands he undid his binds and without a further thought jumped…

The silence was more frightening than the screams had been. With a racing heart Aragorn treaded water turning slowly, his harsh breathing made ripples on the water's surface.

"Legolas," he whispered.

His belly churned with fear. He let the light current pull him downriver, but as it did he spun around searching the surround, looking for any sign of his friend. But there was nothing, nothing but the still surface of the water.

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Night came as it must and still he drifted in the still and silent waters. He dared not call out for he knew not what creatures lay in the murky flood that carried him along. And as the hours passed his hope of finding Legolas faded, but even as tears blurred his vision and sorrow, like lead, weighed his limbs, he saw shinning in the meagre moonlight, t bunched at the bole of a great tree, spun gold. It floated on the surface of the water like weed. Startled his reddened eyes travelled from the surface of the water up to the enormous creature that had the elf pinned against the bark of the tree. Half in and half out of the water it stood, its thin, stick like legs straddling the elf. There was some strange thing, very like a hollow reed jutting out from its undercarriage. And this thing was jammed deep into the elf's belly. Wet sucking sounds came from that appendage. Feeding, it was feeding on the elf's lifeblood.

A blood curdling scream broke the silence of the night, a scream of fear and rage. Thrashing madly Aragorn began to swim with frantic strokes towards the thing, for he had noted that Legolas dangled loosely like a child's toy from the monster's grasp. He gave no thought to its nightmare visage or even how to defeat it for he had no weapon. Rage indeed, blinded him.

But it was fortunate for the ranger that this monster, that normally lived in the deeps of the riverbed hunted by stealth alone, for despite its bulk it was a coward to its heart and culled the solitary, weak or unwary only. The wild noises and frenzied movements of the ranger at its unprotected flank gave it pause. Loving its own hide more than its sweet dinner it abruptly released the elf and slid away with a hasty plop into the water.

With shaking hands and fluttering heart Aragorn clasped the weightless elf to his breast. Legolas was cold, his coal black lashes like dead wings against his cheeks.

"Nooo," stuttered Aragorn, "noooooooooooooooooo."

He climbed, though hours before he could not have done it. Higher and higher he went, the body of his friend draped upon his back. There was no goal in his mind but to get out of the reaches of the flood. But before long, fatigue caught up to him and he collapsed with his precious bundle among the branches.

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The sun's light filtered down upon the tussled brown hair of a wearily sleeping young man. The dappled light played upon his hollow cheeks and sunken lids. The broken beams caught and reflected the shine of long strands of gold that had intertwined with his for against his chest lay an elven head lost to dark somnolence. The sun had just reached its zenith when one of these children opened his eyes. With the rising of his chest the elf slumped against him, slipped lower onto his lap. The movement brought back to Aragorn the horror of the night gone by. Tears came unbidden to his eyes and he brushed lank strands away from Legolas' brow. He wiped away tears that fell on the eldar's face.

"Forgive me friend Greenleaf, for I have brought this doom upon you," he whispered and he hid his face behind the screen of his hands. Long did he lament, even unto the waning of the sun. But finally he ceased for there were no more tears left. No hunger did he feel or thirst. He arranged Legolas's limbs carefully and clasping him about the chest proposed to sleep once more. But sleep would not find him and the rising of the moon found him wide eyed and keening. His sounds of lament turned eventually to song. Low and beautiful was his voice and the tree upon which they lay swayed in time to his dirge. It was this rocking that at last sent him into deep slumber.

While Aragorn slept a strange thing happened. Mayhap it was some distant memory of better times that pushed the tree into motion or simply some instinct long buried, but young strong branches within reach of the elf wrapped themselves gently around him and removed him from Aragorn's slack fingers. Up and up the branches passed him until he was thrust into the light of the moon. The moon beams glittered along his body and soon his skin began to shine.

Legolas felt the life return to him and with it the pain and horror of the attack. His hands flew to his belly but the wound he had received there was already closed. Slowly he sat up and as he did the branches released him from their hold. He looked around him with wonder for a moment, but the branches had not finished their work. Slowly they parted and prodded him forward. Down he went until he came to the forked branches where Aragorn slept.

"Hannon le" he whispered to the great tree and bowed his head in thanks. And then he sat as near to the ranger as he could and waited for dawn, the promise of a new day.