A/N Hehe. *sigh* I love that we all love angst and pain and torture and all that good stuff so we can all be considered a little crazy together :)

Disclaimer: not mine.

No Finer Friends

Chapter One

"You will come back again before the year is out, won't you?" Aragorn asked, his deep grey eyes hopeful as he gazed up at Legolas, who sat astride a glossy white mare looking down on him. In the King of Gondor's arms balanced his young son, Eldarion, who was only four. Both father and son were decked out in their finest clothes, though this did not appear to brighten either of their moods any, leaving Aragorn rather decidedly gloomy. Legolas heaved a heavy sigh before replying. He, the direct opposite of his friend, was wearing his normal clothes and a travel worn cloak. His treasured bow and arrows where strapped to his back along with his faithful twin blades.

"I will try, but there is no guarantee that I will be able to slip away from Ithilien," he said carefully, checking his hose as she began to prance impatiently. The bright afternoon sun caught on the surface of his knives and they glinted brightly before the elf shifted once more.

"I understand," Aragorn said as he struggled to keep a hold of the bouncing and fidgeting Eldarion. "Say good-by to Uncle Legolas and then you can go." The human frowned with good humor as his offspring shouted a quick farewell and wiggled free of his arms, shooting off towards the gardens. Legolas smiled at the sight and grinned wider as he turned his head and saw the grimace that his friend was wearing.

"I would be running in the other direction if I where him," the human muttered, his frown deepening even more. Legolas swiftly transformed his features, but there was no hiding the twinkle in his blue eyes, however.

"Aragorn, you have given many a decree before. Why should this one be any different?" he said bracingly, knowing that the king of men was dreading the speech and decree that he had to give later in the afternoon.

"I don't like doing it anytime," the king affirmed, shaking his head in despair as he folded his arms and turned to watch his son. "I don't mind commanding an army or leading them into war, but this is different. I just don't like doing it."

"Now you finally understand what I have gone through all my life!" The elf let a grin widen his face as he gently teased the human.

"That I do," Aragorn agreed, allowing a flash of a smile to cross his face. For a moment, silence reigned supreme and neither seemed willing to break it. Aragorn was gazing unseeingly at the garden path way into which his son had disappeared as Legolas' eyes sought the sky. Arwen was the one who finally did break it as she emerged from the gardens with Eldarion now safely nestled in her arms.

"Aragorn, your councilors are looking for you," she called over. She had already said her good-byes to Legolas and stayed in the background, not wishing to encounter the awkwardness of doing it again. Eldarion wasn't afraid of that, however, and shouted out another farewell at the top of his lungs. He waved energetically and Legolas waved back.

"Coming!" Aragorn called back with tenderness in his voice that was reserved for Arwen and Arwen alone. Turning back to his friend, he smiled up, though a splash of nervousness had also entered his face.

"You will be fine," Legolas said, reaching down to lightly touch the man's shoulders. "Believe it or not, it does get easier everytime. Besides you are the great king Elessar! Trust me, no one in the crowd will be able to tale that this isn't easy for you. They will only see their confident king."

Aragorn nodded, though his face was still gloomy, "Travel safely, mellon-nin, and try to escape back here as soon as possible." He stepped back and brought his hand to his heart, sweeping it out. Legolas followed suit.

"I always do," he said in way of parting, kicking his horse lightly in the sides to get her moving. "Good luck!" he called over his shoulder to which Aragorn raised his hand.

Once his friend was out of sight the man heaved a great sigh. Turning he walked over to his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist. Together the family of three began to walk back. Never did they think that today would prove a day of misfortune that they would look back upon with sorrow.

Legolas, meanwhile, traveled down the seven levels of Minas Tirith and was just threading his way through a crowded street of lower class people towards the tall gates when, by mere accident, his superior elven hearing caught three words that sent a chill down his spin. Elessar, injure, and kill where not words that could bring to pass light and good events, especially not when whispered in such hushed tones.

Alert now, Legolas closed his eyes momentarily, blocking out all his senses and tuning into the sounds around him. The sounds of feet hitting the dirt were drowned by the excited babble and cries of the people of Minas Tirith. Focusing intently, Legolas fought against the surge of sound, trying to find the speaker. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but luck favored him that day as once again his ears caught the voice.

"No one will know. I have it all planned," it said and Legolas swung off his horse, leading her into a nearby ally way. This was worth investigating further and the horse would bring too much attention. He was clearly a horse of fine breeding and Legolas had often seen men's heads turn to follow the creature's graceful and strong movements. No, he would go on foot.

"Daro, mellon-nin," Legolas whispered to him, fondling his ears gently, before slipping back out into the crowds of swarming people. With one smooth action he flipped the hood of his cloak over his head and pulled it tight around him, trying to be unnoticeable. Staying several foot back from where he suspected the voice was coming from, the prince reflected momentarily on how handy it was to have excellent hearing.

"But what if you make a mistake!" a second voice replied. This one was gruff and deep, indicting a heavy set man. The first one had been light, smooth, and confident. Someone who knew what they were doing. His eyes began to dart back and forth over the crowds, looking for a least two men together that would fit their voices.

"I won't," the first replied with a hint of annoyance.

"But if you mess up, it is both of our heads." The second man dropped his voice lower and Legolas picked up his step, sliding easily between a group of laughing girls. If he had any doubts before now, they had been erased. These two were up to no good; he would beat his left arm and leg on it.

"Shh, don't talk so loud! Just stay out of the way and let me do my job!" the silky voice warned and the elf's stomach dropped even further. He had yet to catch sight of either man and scanned the crowd anxiously, his eyes hidden by his hood. If he was to lose their voices, then he was to lose them and that might mean to lose Estel as well.

"Fine, but don't fail me."

The elf wove gracefully past a pair of running children. A delightful grin suddenly lighted upon his face. He had them!

There, walking purposefully along, were two men with their heads bowed together. One man, the one Legolas thought was more likely to have the deeper voice, was a large solider of Gondor, his outfit complete with weapons and armor. Legolas felt a pang of sadness shot through him as he gazed with an increasing hatred at that man. One of Aragorn's own men was planning to assassinate his king, an unforgivable breech in the most basic of warrior code.

The second man was dressed plainly in a dark tunic and breeches, and Legolas felt his respect for the man grow even as his lip curled automatically. He was expertly dressed as someone whom no one would look twice at. The cloth for the clothes was fine, but no fine enough to warrant a second glance and no jewels adorned his fingers or neck. His shoulder length hair was simply styled. Legolas knew that with this one glance that this man was a master at what he did. He would have to be at his best, for there was no way in the name of the Valar that he was going to let Aragorn die when he had a chance to stop it. Not this day, not ever.

They both stopped and Legolas edged closer. He did not stop as he came near them, but slowed considerable.

"Remember, you do not get the rest of the gold until the job is done," the solider stated softly, pointing a thick finger in the other's face. The traitor then turned, walking quickly off and pushing through the crowds of people. The assassin, however, moved off into a new direction. Legolas paused, his eyes moving rapidly between the two men.

The hesitation was almost unnoticeable before he started off once again, following the assassin.

The man lead Legolas through another six levels of the city, tracing the path that Legolas had originally taken down, and ended in the courtyard where Aragorn was suppose to deliver his speech. With a jolt, the elf realized that this event was bound to take place any minute now and began to hurry his steps. The crowds surrounding them had swelled as what seemed as the whole city struggled to fit into the court yard to hear what their king had to say. It would be far to easy to disappear into such a crowd.

The herald stepped out, his voice floating over the crowd, and Legolas cursed the Valar swiftly, knowing that he was still too far away to make a difference if the assassin acted now. The man's head twisted upwards and Legolas stomach lurched, but he appeared to only be focusing in on Aragorn as the royal family stepped out to cheers.

Ducking behind a large, old, woman with a wrinkled face, Legolas stopped. He was now with-in an arm's distance of the man. Aiming his gaze towards his old friend, the elf pretending to be interesting in what he was saying while cocking his head to the side so that he could watch the assassin out of the corner his eye. The man moved again, dipping his hand into his pocket and Legolas drew in a deep breath, stilling his nerves.

Aragorn's voice rang out, loud and clear, though the court yard and the assassin shifted over a few feet, appearing as if he wanted a better view of the King. Which, Legolas was sure,he did. More important was the fact that there were no guards hovering nearby and that it was in the shadows of one of the great trees that lined the courtyard.

The man withdrew his hand from his pocket with the causality of someone drawing out money, but when his hand left the material something silver and thin was nestled in his palm.

Legolas discreetly inched over, now in a position almost directly next to the man. He could clearly see the blade, a throwing knife, and tensed his muscles, ready to attack at the moment's notice that would be given him.

The man shifted, twirling the knife upwards, and Legolas made his move. Darting forward, he grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it painfully behind the man's back while he dug his fingers into the human's shoulder.

"Don't move," the elf growled dangerously, shaking the man to get his point across. "Drop the knife now," he ordered in a lethal whisper, bending the wrist hard enough to make the man grunt in pain. "Do it!"

The man allowed the blade to drop with a clatter, his body tense with unmistakable fear and hatred. "Who are you?" he sneered in a whisper, his fist clenching and unclenching.

"That doesn't matter," Legolas snapped, beginning to pull the man back, keeping a firm hold on him, towards a nearby alleyway. He would not cause a scene in the middle of Aragorn's speech, but would simply hold the man until the king was free. After that, it was up to Aragorn what happened to the assassin.

"You are going to regret this," the man warned, flexing his muscles as he attempted to break away, but the elf only tightened his grip, refusing to let the man slip away.

"Fight me and things are going to be worse for you!" Legolas barked softly, shaking him roughly.

"I could yell for a guard, tell them you attacked me for no reason," he threatened, straining his arms once more. Legolas laughed lightly in response, his voice derived of any real mirth as he replied with a hiss, twisting the other's arm hard.

"Somehow I doubt that they will believe you rather than me."

Yanking the man, the two of them disappeared into a back street.

Forcing the assassin around to face the front, the wood-elf dragged him uncaringly forward, until they left the crowds of people behind and Aragorn's voice faded to a murmur. Ducking in a dingy looking alley way a couple of streets away, Legolas thrust his captive in.

"Why are you trying to kill King Elessar? Who put you up to this?" Legolas asked in a foreboding tone. Twirling the man around in one sure movement, the elf slammed him up against the wall with a loud thud. Shoving the other's legs apart, he placed his own in-between and crushed the man's arms up against the wall, effectively hindering the man from much movement.

"I am not going to ask again," Legolas growled as the man remained silent before smashing him up against the wall again with enough force to break his noise as the man moved suddenly, bucking in an attempt to escape. "Stay still!"

"You do not-," the man hissed back, his voice thick through the blood now streaming from both nostrils. Abruptly bringing his head back, the assassin whammed it into Legolas' face.

The elf automatically jerked, his hands releasing their tight hold just long enough for the man to wrench free. He purposefully fell backwards, crashing into the elf and sending them both staggering back into a pile of crates that lined the wall. The boxes splintered and cracked under their combined weight and the uppermost one toppled over, sending its contents of dead fish, along with their foul smell, to slap roughly against the stone as well as the elf and the man.

Legolas, who had landed on bottom, took a wheezing breathe and attempted to ignoring the sharp pain in his back from the wood. Getting his legs under him, he kicked the man full in the chest with enough force to send him crashing down the ground a few feet away. Stumbling upright, Legolas launched himself at the downed man, his fist raised.

The human scrambled back, only to find himself backup against the wall with nowhere to go. Thrusting a hand into his inside tunic pocket, he gripped a small knife. It was hardly the length of his hand, but it would suit his purpose. The prince's fist slammed into his face and he saw stars as his head hit the rough stone and brick of the wall.

Doubling over with pain, he slipped the knife into his fist, clenching it with enough force to cut circulation from his fingers.

Legolas had also drawn his knife, but in contrast to the human, he had flipped his over so he was holding the sharp end and the handle was down. He meant to only stun, not to kill. Lunging forward once more, the elf raised the blade.

Surging up, the man and Legolas meet in a clash of bodies. Jamming his weapon down, the man felt it pierce flesh and smiled. A moment later the elf's knife slammed into his head and he fell forward, stunned from the hard blow.

Legolas let a small gasp leave his lips as icy pain flared through his upper thigh where the knife had stuck him. Landing on one knee next to the sprawled man he hissed. Looking down at the small weapon embedded in his flesh, he yanked it out with one swift, sure, movement. The man next to him moaned softly as he began to come back to his senses and Legolas smiled. A small wound was a small price to pay for the capture of the man.

Getting awkwardly to his feet to knock the man out for good, Legolas cursed as his leg buckled and scent him crashing back to the ground. Something was wrong, his leg should not have given out like that. Cursing again, he staggered back upright. The knife clutched in his hand dropped from his suddenly numb fingers and fell to the ground with a clatter as his vision began to blur. His back thumped against the crates and he leaned on them for support with gritted teeth. His leg was locking up and refusing to carry his weight despite his urgent need to use it.

The man slowly picked himself up from off the earth, his breathing harsh and haggard as he swiped at the blood adoring in his face. Legolas felt the first dregs of fear prick his heart as the man smiled cruelly down at him, feeling like he was missing something drastically important.

Stopping a few feet in front of the prince, who was clutching to the wood in an attempt to stay up right, the assassin bent down to face level.

"You lose," he whispered with contempt.

Legolas shook his head like a dog, trying to get anything to focus, but everything was growing fuzzy and the man's face swirled in front of his eyes despite his best efforts. A ring of black had grown around the edge of his vision as his wound flared with agony. It pulsed along with his heartbeat and together the two began to drown out all else. The elf frowned as the distorted figure leaned in and tried to pull away but he couldn't tell if his body was doing its part. The man's lips moved oddly, sending one word echoing faintly in the back of the elf's mind.

"Poison."

And then everything went black and all he knew was that he had failed Aragorn.

TBC...

Well, that started out with a bang... If you were by a small, small, chance missing my cliffies then there is a gift to you. :)

Just a note, I will post sometime next week but it might be Wednesday or Saturday instead of Friday. :)