Lórien

by VILYA74

Elrond is almost killed by an elf, who steals Vilya. The brothers follow him and recover the ring, but Legolas is seriously injured. Aragorn takes Legolas to Galadriel for help. In Lothlórien he meets Arwen once more. Set after Stars of Harad, Mellon Chr

Lórien

By Vilya74

Vilya74@yahoo.co.uk or elmarie@iway.na

Rating: PG-13 for violence

Summary:

An elf from Lothlórien steals Vilya, attacking and almost killing Elrond in the process. The three brothers and Legolas recover the ring from him, but in the process Legolas is injured very seriously. Aragorn takes Legolas to Galadriel to try and save his life. In Caras Galadon Aragorn meets Arwen again. The story picks up where Cassia & Siobhan left off after Stars of Harad, but does not purport to be their work.

Disclaimer:

I have ruthlessly and without conscience plundered the works of Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and particularly Cassia & Siobhan. So Beware The Spoilers!
I don't own anyone but myself, and claim no rights to any of the characters of Middle Earth. Taradin and Celboril are characters created by Cassia & Siobhan and I am borrowing them with their kind indulgence. The story is my own.

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Lórien

It was quiet for once in Imladris, and Elrond savoured the serenity. A year ago Aragorn had returned to his father, and things have since almost returned to normal. The twins still bickered incessantly and took turns to gang up with Aragorn against each other. Aragorn at least seemed more adapt at ensuring that they never joined forces against him these days. Legolas had stayed for the winter after returning Estel to his home, but he had longed for his own home and returned to Mirkwood as soon as the first signs of Spring appeared, after an absence of three long years.

Two weeks ago the prince arrived unexpectedly, and Aragorn's joy could not be contained. He had missed his friend dearly, but was loath to travel again after his long absence. The near loss of everything that was dear to him had shook him badly, and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his brothers and his father. Elrond was well pleased with this, for his heart had been heavier than he could have imagined while Estel was gone. And he feared for his young, reckless son. Aragorn's destiny had yet to unfold, but sometimes it seemed that he lived as if there was no tomorrow. Youth! Elrond sighed with a smile and turned to stare out the window of his study. The valley was bathed in the golden light that was so typical of Rivendell, and bore a lushness that Elrond had not seen in many years. It was as if nature had picked up on the joy and vigour that infused Rivendell since the return of Legolas. Pranks had multiplied exponentially, and having been the butt of an unsettling number of these, Elrond was quite relieved when the twins had announced that they were going hunting and would be away for a few days. His dignity had suffered just about all it could take with good grace.

He continued to stare out the window when he became aware of a shadow in his mind. He might have turned to scholarship and the arts of healing long since, but he still retained all the reflexes and senses of the warrior that once led elves and men into battle. He rose and turned instantly, and that alone saved him from death. The sword that had been meant to behead him, instead cut deeply into his back and arm. The searing pain almost dropped him to his knees, but he kicked the chair he had been reposing in, into his attacker. As the assailant stumbled, Elrond realized why he had become aware of him so late. It was an elf.

An elf that had come from Lothlórien bearing messages from Galadriel and Arwen. Elrond had inquired about Calean, the usual messenger, but upon being told that he had injured himself in a race, had only smiled indulgently. He was well aware of the young elf's predilection for speed, having had occasion to chastise him when he induced Aragorn to indulge in his dangerous pursuits on horseback.

Elrond stumbled back and reached for the elven knives which were mounted on the wall. His left arm was useless, but with his right he grabbed hold of an ivory handle and turned on the assassin that by now had regained his balance, and was walking towards Elrond with a deadly look in his eyes. Elrond shivered from more than just the pain that laced his body. Whatever looked back at him was not the jovial elf that he had greeted that morning. There was no soul, no conscience behind those eyes. His momentary distraction was almost his undoing as the elf swung the sword with lightning speed, and Elrond barely had time to deflect the blow. The strength behind it almost unsettled his balance. After that al Elrond could do was to defend against the tireless onslaught as best he could, until pain and blood loss caused his vision to blur and his breath to become laboured. He had called out several times for help, but the lack of response made him fear for the safety of his household.

The elf started grinning and deliberately pushed Elrond ever backwards, until he felt his back slam into the wall. He was too tired to react and a scream was ripped from his throat as the sword pierced his side. For a few moments Elrond and the messenger stared into each other's eyes. Then the elf laughed into his face and pulled the sword from Elrond's body.

"Die you bastard", the elf spat.

"Why?" was all Elrond could manage as he slid to the ground, his wounds smearing the wall with blood.

"Because you killed my family. And because I want this." The elf leaned over him and grabbed Elrond's left hand. He had not the strength left to resist as Vilya was wrenched from his index finger. It should have been impossible, but the weakening of his master had left the ring visible to the world.

"No!" Elrond cried. "You don't know … what that can do… What harm will befall the realm of elves … if that should fall into... into the wrong hands," Elrond gasped. "I know not how I could have harmed your family, but if you hate me, have your revenge on me. Not on all the Eldar of this world." The last part was little more than a whisper.

"You care not for the elves of Middle-Earth. You never have! It's men you really care about. Your human blood has betrayed the elves long ago when you chose to align yourself and the Eldar with those vile creatures. Now you have compounded it by raising that mewling infant in what once was a proud elven home. No, this ring will go to one that has the power to wield it. For the good of all elves. Not just those huddling in this crevice." With that he turned and left.

Elrond was stunned by this speech, not sure what to make of it, and not sure whether he had heard right in any event, as consciousness fled him.

*****************

"No, no, Celboril will have your head if you come into the house like that." Elladan said with mock seriousness to his mud-covered brother, who just glared at him and stomped past him.

"You are so dead this time, Elrohir," Legolas laughed. "He won't forgive this in a trice." Aragorn just snickered at the thought of his eldest brother rising like a vengeful spirit from the deep mud hole into which Elrohir had dumped him after the two got into a wrestling match over some trifling matter. They had been traveling for three days, and the constant bickering of the twins had alternately amused and exasperated Aragorn and Legolas, who had wisely stayed out of the worst of it. The hunting had not been very successful, mostly because Elladan and Elrohir had ensured failure by rigging each other's gear, 'accidentally' treading on twigs, and when all else had failed shouting "Orcs!" at a most inopportune moment. No, Aragorn and Legolas were quite relieved to return home, and had secretly already started planning on an excursion of their own. The twins could be fun, but sometimes they were just a bit exhausting.

The silence that greeted Legolas and the brothers when they entered the house as the sun was setting behind the mountains, was unsettling, and it dawned on them that something wasn't right. Just then a tearful Celboril appeared in the hallway.

"My lords! You have returned. Finally!"

The twins exchanged glances and charged forward.

"Celboril, what is it. Where is Father?" Elrohir shouted.

The elf was shaking, but pulled them into the elf lord's bedroom. "In here, my lords. He has been injured most grievously. I do not know what to do for him anymore," the faithful retainer wailed.

Elladan stormed passed him, only to stop next to his father's bed. The elf lord was lying with his eyes closed. His face snow white and cold to the touch. For a moment Elladan feared that his spirit had left his body, but then he could see the slight rise and fall of Elrond's chest. He barely breathed.

"No, no this can't be! He can't be dead. No! Elladan tell me it's not so!" Elrohir pleaded wide-eyed. Elladan turned and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "He lives, Elrohir. Fear not. But we must help him, and quickly now. There is very little life left in him." Elrohir stared at him dumfounded for a few more seconds, and then pulled himself together.

Aragorn and Legolas had burst into the room just as Elladan had turned to his brother. They heard the words, but it did not stop Aragorn from running to his father with a cry of anguish. He fell down on his knees next to Elrond's bed and grabbed his hand. His worst nightmare had come to life. Elrond was lying with his eyes closed. Images that had haunted his early childhood resurfaced and shook him to his core.

He felt Legolas' hand on his shoulder. "Peace, my friend. He lives. Help him now to remain thus."

Aragorn struggled to contain the grief and fear, but stood just as Elrohir too regained his balance. Together they examined Elrond's wounds and decided on the best course of action. They worked together silently. Aragorn preparing ointments and brews, while the twins chanted softly, and used their skill to revive Elrond, and help his body's own healing abilities to fight the havoc that had been wrecked upon it. The cut to his back was deep and on his arm reached to the bone. He had been run straight through by the assassin's last thrust, and it was a miracle that nothing vital had been pierced. Several other cuts crisscrossed his arms and chest, and a deep wound to his right thigh showed where Elrond's assailant had tried to disable his leg. The elf lord had clearly put up a tremendous fight despite his debilitating wounds.

Legolas assisted Aragorn where he could, lighting braziers, carrying pots of water and reflecting a calm he did not feel. Inside his heart was breaking. For the twins, for Aragorn, and for himself. He finally understood how much Elrond had come to mean to him. His relationship with his own father had improved somewhat in the last few years. But there had been many times when the lord of Imladris had been the one to see into his heart, and offer sound words of advice. And then there was the time in Dorolyn. Legolas had only recently finally come to terms with that part of his life. But he could never forget the comfort and compassion the elf lord had brought him at a time when Elrond's very mission had required that he distance himself from the young elf's plight.

Celboril had hung around for a while, whimpering, wringing his hands and begging forgiveness, until Legolas chased him away. He was unsettling everyone, and the tale of what happened could wait until the issue of whether Imladris would keep its lord was settled. One way or another.

The brothers worked tirelessly throughout the night. In the darkest hours before dawn they grew desperate, as Elrond's spirit seemed ready to enter the Halls of Mandos. Somehow he survived until the golden light of morning spilled into the room. And with it returned hope, as Elrond at last breathed deeper, and rested easier. The ragged lines of pain began to smooth as the fresh smell of Athelas that had filled the room the whole night finally reached his mind. The twins sighed with relief and Elladan left to get cleaned up. He had only cleared the mud in so far as it had been necessary for attending on his father, and he still looked to be a creature of earth come to life. Aragorn and Elrohir maintained the vigil.

Legolas went down to the kitchens where he found Celboril attempting to prepare a meal. But what wasn't spilled was burning. Legolas pushed him into a chair and took the elf's face in his hand. When the distraught elf finally looked up into Legolas' face, he said: "Peace my friend. Elrond has remained with us throughout the night and he is resting quietly now. Fear no more." This precipitated a new burst of weeping, and Legolas left him to it while he took over the cooking. After a while, still hiccuping occasionally, Celboril began to relate the happenings of the past few days. The telling was disjointed and interspersed with many pauses for sobbing, but with much patience Legolas began to piece together what must have happened. By that time breakfast was finished, and Legolas took the food up to the brothers after having tried to console Celboril once more. It took a lot just to calm the elf, and it would be a while before he actually believed that he was not to blame, but the food was getting cold, so Legolas left him to contend with his grief. The brothers would need to hear the tale immediately.

*********

Aragorn looked haggard, but smiled his thanks to his friend when food was placed before him. "Eat," Legolas commanded. "You will do your father no good if you faint from hunger." Aragorn snorted "As if!" Legolas just grinned at him. It was a sign of the improvement in Elrond that Estel could once more appreciate the elf's humor.

Elrohir was still bent over his father, keeping up a soft chant, although the exhaustion on his face showed that he would not last much longer.

"You, too, Elrohir. Lord Elrond needs his rest now, so stop babbling in his ears, and regain your strength my friend." Elrohir looked affronted, but then relented and joined them in the meal.

"Celboril has told me what happened."

"What?!" Elladan cried from the doorway. "Who did this to father? Why?"

"And where is Vilya?" Aragorn asked quietly.

This caused a storm of shouting and confusion. Elladan finally made himself heard above the others: "What do you mean, Estel? Vilya can't be gone!"

But from his father's bed Elrohir confirmed: "He speaks the truth. It's gone, Elladan." The twins looked at each other in shock. "When did you notice this, Estel?" demanded Elladan.

"Early this morning."

"And you didn't say anything then?!" shouted Elrohir.

Aragorn raised his hand in a placating gesture. "There seemed little reason for raising it at the time. We were fighting for Ada's life, and without him Vilya would mean very little."

"Aragorn, you don't seem to understand! If Vilya fell into the hands of Sauron or his minions, it could spell the end of Middle Earth as we know it." Elladan's face was pale and as serious as Aragorn had ever seen him.

"Elladan, I am well aware of the consequences. But maybe we should hear what Legolas has to tell and then see what can be done about it."

Elladan relented and they al turned to listen to Legolas.

"An elf named Quen arrived with messages from Lothlórien shortly after our departure. Elrond left him in Celboril's care, but instead of food, Quen requested to retire as he had ridden through the night and several nights before. Ostensibly because he had a bet with Calean about how long it would take him to arrive in Rivendell.

Celboril went back to his work, but after a while he looked for Arran to help him move the furniture in the Hall of Fire. The young elf was nowhere to be found. Nor were any of the other staff, but Celboril suspected that they may have wandered off just to annoy him. So he searched outside for a while, but could still not find any of the house staff. When he finally returned it turned out that Quen had disposed of everyone by sneaking up on them and drugging them with some foul substance on a rag. Celboril escaped because of his search outside. When he found the staff where Quen had dragged them into one of the back rooms you never use, he feared for Elrond. Elrond had given instructions not to be disturbed, so he did not search there earlier. He was in time only to find your father unconscious and bleeding profusely in the study. There was no sign of Quen. The healers did their best, but none of them have your or Elrond's skill. They despaired when his life force was reduced to the flickering you observed last night. So they left him in Celboril's care yesterday afternoon to die in peace. The rest you know."

"So, by now he is three, almost four days gone with the ring. Illuvitar only knows who he has given it to!" Elrohir sighed.

The brothers were silent while pondering the news. Then Elladan looked up and said: "We have to find it. Elrohir, you and Estel stay here and watch over Father. Legolas and I can go."

"You all go." The words were spoken so softly they almost went unheard, but Elladan jumped up with a cry. "Ada, you're awake!" The elf lord had not the strength to reply.

The young ones quickly gathered round him and each shouted out questions at once. Elrond just stayed silent until some semblance of order returned.

"You have done all you can for me. Thank you. Now you must go. All of you. Find the ring. Nothing is more important." Elrond's voice was laced with pain, but none doubted his seriousness.

"Father the others can go. I will stay with you. We can't just leave you like this. If anything happened to you." Elrohir's voice broke and he dropped his head. Elrond lifted his hand with effort and touched the youngest twin's cheek.

"My heart tells me that you will all be needed for this quest. Go my son. Do not worry for me. I will be fine." His son still wanted to protest, but Elrond continued: "He said he would give it to someone with the power to wield it. Perhaps he meant Mithrandir, but I do not truly believe that. I fear that the ring may end up in the hands of the enemy. And then all will be lost. You MUST find it."

They realized there was no arguing with Elrond. And he was right. They had done everything possible for him. From now on his own body would have to fight the injuries, but the worst was over. They lingered for a few moments longer while Elrond gave final instructions, and then they each hurried to his chambers to pack. Within an hour from Elrond's waking the brothers and Legolas were mounted and moving out from Imladris. Quen had a four-day head start, and they had no idea where to begin looking for him. Elrond was convinced they should look to the south, and so they followed the path out of the valley with all speed.

They traveled all day. The worry in their hearts for what lay both behind and before them, spurring them on to take no rest. By nightfall Aragorn was on the verge of toppling from his horse. He had slept nothing the previous night, and the emotional turmoil had taken its toll on his body. Legolas saw the signs of exhaustion in the human and called a halt. The twins were still eager to proceed, but for once did not make a scene when they realized the reason. Within minutes of dismounting Aragorn was fast asleep sprawled atop his bedroll. Legolas could not resist throwing one of his own blankets on top of him and tucking in his young friend. The twins just grinned at him, and Elladan remarked dryly: "And I thought I was supposed to be the 'mother'." Legolas gave him a brief glare before laying down beside Aragorn, shoulders touching, as had become their habit since their days in Harad. The twins had commented on this once, but received only blank stares from both Aragorn and Legolas. It was then only that they realized to some extent how much had happened between their brother and Legolas that was never spoken of. The stares simply said 'You were not there. You would not understand.' Such events neither require nor offer any explanation.

The next few days followed the same pattern. They traveled as hard as they could, all the while searching for any indication that Quen had been this way. Other than their father's certainty, there was no indication that they were on the right track. Fear ate at their hearts. The twins were unusually subdued, and Aragorn and Legolas who were used to comfortable silences between them when they traveled, welcomed the respite. From the brothers' side, they were amazed by the endurance of their younger sibling. Legolas might take it for granted, but the twins were well aware of the effort it took from Estel to keep up with the elves.

By the fifth day they met up with Taradin and his hunters. They had hunted on the plains south of Rivendell during the winter months, but were now returning to the forest. At Aragorn's insistence they stopped to inquire about any news and to trade some provisions with the hunters. They had had no time to hunt for themselves, and the fresh meat on the spit smelled very inviting, as they joined the camp.

"So Strider, what brings you this way? It has been, what, four years since last I saw you. What have you been up to?" Taradin asked, sitting down at the fire.

"Too many things to relate in the time we have, my friend." Aragorn said with a smile, taking his place next to the old hunter.

"Well you certainly look to be in quite a hurry. What do you hunt this time?" Taradin inquired with a laugh. Legolas joined him, while the twins tended the horses.

"We are looking for an elf by the name of Quen. He travels alone on a pure white horse." Aragorn replied.

"And what has this elf done to warrant such a search party?" Taradin replied with a sly smile.

"He has stolen an heirloom of great value to lord Elrond's family. We ride to retrieve it."

"Must be quite an heirloom." Taradin still tried to pull more information from the ranger.

Aragorn just smiled and said: "Elves tend to become fairly riled when trifles they have possessed for three or four thousand years are misappropriated. I think the betrayal inherent in the theft affronts their dignity." Legolas admired the human's attempt to draw the hunter's mind away from the stolen item itself. He could see that the ranger's play on the hunter's prejudices about the haughtiness of elves had hit its mark as Taradin just chuckled softly.

"Well young ranger, then I think I can be of some assistance in this great criminal investigation." Taradin looked smug, and even more so when both Aragorn and Legolas looked up with immediate interest. "Turns out we ran into your thief yesterday. His horse had gone lame, poor beast. He traded the animal for one of ours. I'd say for once we got the better bargain. I sent Fendeol and Berham back to Tses with the horse. We don't want such a conspicuous animal, but it should fetch a fine price in town."

"Can you show us where you met him? Please, we must catch up with him as soon as possible," Legolas begged the man. Taradin looked thoughtfully at the elf.

"There is more to this stolen property than you are letting on, isn't there?" Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances, and Aragorn decided to tell some of the truth at least, if only to ensure the co-operation of the hunter.

"It is an item possessing elven magic of times gone by. It has power enough that in the wrong hands it could endanger more than just elves. It was entrusted to Lord Elrond to keep it from just such misuse. You would be doing your own people a great service if you assisted us."

Taradin looked from one friend to the other. "You're serious, aren't you?" They just nodded. The twins joined them during the silence that followed this exchange. " I will take you there myself tomorrow. But for now, join us and get some rest. You all look as if a cave troll has used you for his bedding." The twins protested immediately, but Taradin just chuckled, and Legolas had to agree that the strain had left its mark on the brothers' faces. He filled them in on the conversation with Taradin. Relief flooded their hearts as they realized that their father had not sent them on the wrong path after all. In addition to all the other worries, doubt had plagued their every thought for the last few days.

**************

They left early the following morning and traveled half a day to the place where Taradin had parted from Quen. The trail was easy to pick up, and the company took their leave of Taradin with much lighter hearts. They tracked the rogue elf for another week, ever closing on him, but never quite catching up.

On the eighth day Legolas called a halt halfway through the morning. They had entered the foothills at the Southern tip of the Misty Mountains the previous evening, and traveled along its slopes all day. Quen had taken a well-traveled path so that it was fairly easy to track him through the forest covering the hills.

"We are no more than an hour behind him. He is heading due East. For Isengard."

"Isengard? He thinks to give the ring to Saruman?" Elrohir questioned.

"It seems certain." Legolas replied and Aragorn just nodded his agreement. Having been in this area more recently than the twins who had not left Rivendell in many ages except to go to Mirkwood or Lórien, Legolas and Aragorn knew the lay of the land and could guess the probable destination of the elf. It had looked earlier as if he was heading for the Gap of Rohan. The twins had begun to fear that Mordor may yet be his final destination.

"Then perhaps all is not lost." Elladan said enthusiastically. "Saruman is a friend of Mithrandir. He would return the ring to its rightful owner." Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances.

"What?" Elrohir asked.

"Aragorn thought Isengard to be creepy." Legolas replied with a grin.

Aragorn glared at him and said: "I seem to recall an elf that was equally unsettled by the atmosphere in that dark place." Legolas' smile faltered as he grew serious again. "I must tell you, Isengard filled my mind with a shadow that I have not been able to shed. I am not convinced that Saruman would return the ring."

"You think he would betray Elrond?" Elladan looked shocked.

"No, but he may feel that the ring would be better off in the hands of the Istari. That one craves power, and the ring would give him that. Why would he give up something so valuable if it falls freely into his lap." Legolas explained.

"I agree with Legolas. We better intercept Quen before he hands the ring to Saruman. We may still be able to wrest if from Quen, but if the wizard should refuse to hand it to us, our hands will be tied." Aragorn looked troubled. The elves had faith in the Istari, and since they had been acquainted with them for so long he did not want to argue the matter. But he could not help but feel that Saruman was quite a different breed from Gandalf. His heart had warned him against the white wizard the whole time they had been resident in Isengard, and he could not shake the feeling of foreboding.

"Well, then, let's not stand around here the whole day. Estel, you and Legolas ride ahead and try to cut him off. Elladan and I will follow. But move silently, human, we do not want him to think a pack of Orcs is tracking him." Elrohir grinned. This earned him a swift cuff to the head by his human brother, who had moved surprisingly quickly for a mere man. Elladan and Legolas laughed merrily at Elrohir's embarrassment, before the party split up.

For the next two hours Aragorn and Legolas chased through the forest with as much speed as the rocky terrain allowed. They had to make a fairly wide arc around the position they assumed Quen would be, as they did not want him to hear the thundering of the horses' hooves despite the cloth they had bound around them to dampen the sound. They left the horses some distance from the track Quen had been following, and crept closer. Quen had not yet passed that way, and they sighed with relief. They took up position on opposite sides of the path, bows at the ready.

When the elf did not appear after fifteen minutes, Aragorn and Legolas grew fearful of what may have befallen the twins at the hands of the rogue elf if they should have come across him unexpectedly. Elrond's grievous wounds were still fresh in their memories. By silent agreement they began to creep back along the path until suddenly Quen burst through the forest, running as if all the evils of Mordor were on his heels. Legolas was first to react and ran straight into the other elf, his momentum throwing both of them to the ground.

Instantly they were grappling with each other, trying every fighting technique they knew to gain the upper hand. Aragorn was afraid to interfere lest he hurt or hinder his friend. Finally, with a throw he had learned from the dwarves, Legolas landed Quen face down in the dirt, instantly pinning both arms behind his back. Aragorn lend a hand and in moments the elf was bound securely. Aragorn pulled him roughly to his feet and grabbed him by the front of his tunic. The twins had not yet appeared, and ice-cold fear gripped his heart "Where are they?" he demanded.

Quen grinned evilly "Orc fodder by now, I should think"

"What?" Legolas and Aragorn exclaimed simultaneously. Aragorn roughly shook the elf, but Legolas stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. "Bring him" They exchanged a glance, then both grabbed an arm and propelled the elf in the direction he had fled from moments ago. Not long thereafter the sound of battle reached their ears, and spurred them on to greater speed. They burst upon a scene of carnage. At least a dozen Orc bodies were strewn around the forest, but almost twice that many were still engaged in battle with the twins. Aragorn charged at them with a battle cry that would have made his ancestors proud. Legolas had the presence of mind to hit Quen smartly about the head. The elf fell to the ground unconscious just as Legolas had to turn and defend him from the Orc hoard.

The twins had been hard pressed, but the battle took a swift turn in their favour with the entrance of the two friends. In less than twenty minutes the Orcs were disposed of. They all stood, breathing hard, and surveyed the area for a few moments, ensuring that no more Orcs lurked about who could attack as they lowered their guard. But the forest was silent once more.

"Where the heck were you two?" Elladan growled.

Aragorn looked embarrassed. "We must have gone too far ahead. We thought you would just follow him until we could spring the ambush."

This time it was Elrohir that flushed slightly as his brother glared at him. "Yes, well that was the plan, wasn't it, but some people have become so used to stepping on twigs that they no longer seem able to avoid them." The younger twin looked apologetically at his older brother, but defended himself by saying: "It won't have mattered much, we could still have brought him down. Only the Orcs crashed the party."

"Where did they come from?" Legolas asked, perplexed by the appearance of Orcs in this region. They were not known to frequent these lands. No one seemed to have an answer, but just then a groan emanated from Quen, who was regaining consciousness.

Elladan stormed at him and grabbed him by his tunic. He roughly pulled him into a sitting position against a tree, taking care to ensure that the elf's head thudded against the trunk in a most satisfying manner. "Where is it?" he barked at the dazed elf. Quen grinned infuriatingly, eyes still unfocussed, and refused to answer. Elladan shook him. "Why did you attack Elrond? What has he ever done to you? You're an elf, how could you betray one of your own kind so?"

Quen laughed bitterly. "Done to me? When he aligned himself with men and led elves into a battle that was not theirs at all, only to be slaughtered. My father, my brothers, all died for the sake of MEN." He spat. "My mother's heart was broken. She followed them into the Halls of Mandos within a year. He wiped out my whole family, and you dare ask what he has ever done to me?" His voice had risen to an almost hysterical pitch. The brothers stared at him in shock.

"I grieve for your loss, but surely you cannot blame Elrond for their fate." Legolas said softly.

"And why not? He was the one who convinced the elves to throw in their lot with that of men!"

"Without the armies of the elves, Sauron's forces would have prevailed, and the Eldar would have suffered greatly for it. Only the combined might of the two races staved off disaster for all of Arda. You must see that." Elrohir said, still shocked at the vehemence of the elf's hatred.

"Oh, he has taught you well, spawn of a half-bred traitor!" He spat in the direction of Aragorn. "No wonder you keep such low company. But I expected more from you, prince of Mirkwood. Your father's people suffered greatly from Elrond's betrayal, and you yourself are rumoured to have felt the filthy touch of men. Or did you enjoy it?"

Legolas' eyes flashed and his hand moved to his dagger, but Aragorn's hand on his arm stayed him. "Peace Legolas, he is not worth it. We came for the ring. Let's take it and leave him here for the Orcs to find if that should be his fate."

Quen began to struggle against his bonds. "No, you will not take the ring. It must go to Saruman. It is not right that the elves clinging to Elrond only are protected by what was given to all elves. Prince of Mirkwood, if nothing else you must see that!"

"The ring is not safe outside Rivendell, Quen. If the Nazgûl should realize it still resides in Middle-Earth, they would hunt it relentlessly. And once they find it, darkness will fall upon the land such as you cannot imagine. Only Elrond has the power to hide it from the Eye that constantly searches for the power to regenerate the Dark Lord." Legolas tried to talk some sense into the elf, but Quen started thrashing about like the madman he is when Elladan tried to search his clothes.

Elrohir suddenly lashed out and punched the elf just below his ear, causing him to fall unconscious again. "I grow weary of this one's tantrums. Let's find the ring before I throttle the life out of him," he growled. Elladan pushed Quen forward and looked at his hands. The ring was stuck on his middle finger and he tried to pry it off. The ring fitted very tightly and the angle made it awkward, so cursing under his breath, Elladan cut the bonds that held the elf and thereafter proceeded to wrench the ring from his finger.

He stood up, inspected the ring for a moment to make sure that it was the right piece of jewelry, and then slipped it on his index finger. He held his wrist in the other hand, and softly spoke the words Elrond had entrusted to his eldest. The ring glowed for a few moments and then disappeared from sight.

The others were spellbound by the spectacle, and did not notice when Quen came to it again. They did not see as he reached across to grab hold of an Orc-blade lying next to one of the numerous bodies, and only at the last moment did Legolas realize what was happening as Quen threw the blade end over end at Elladan. With a stifled cry Legolas threw himself between the dagger and Elrond's eldest. The blade pierced his breast and he fell to the ground before the astonished brothers. "Noooo!" Aragorn cried and fell to his knees next to his friend. Elrohir glanced at his brother holding his dying friend in his arms, and then turned to Quen with murder in his eyes. Elladan did not try to stop his brother when he unsheathed his sword and put the elf down with one swift stroke.

Legolas' eyes were wide with pain and fear. The blade had entered between his ribs and punctured his lung. He struggled to draw breath. Aragorn's hands shook as he pulled the dagger from his friend's body. "Hold on Legolas, don't leave me now. Don't leave me like this." The wound would be mortal in a human, and what made it worse was that Aragorn could detect the smell of morgul poison. He swiftly went to work trying to stem the bleeding to prevent the collapse of the lung, working healing herbs into the wound despite Legolas' protests of pain. All the while praying to Illuvitar to save his friend. The twins were still in shock, but quickly recovered and took up position next to Legolas. Each holding a hand in theirs and placing the other on his brow. The began to softly chant, keeping his spirit strong while Aragorn worked on his body.

After many hours of vigil Legolas' breathing became less ragged. He was still grievously injured, but the danger was passing. His spirit would remain. For now. By then night had fallen. They took turns to sleep and tend their friend. In the morning the brothers built a stretcher and removed Legolas carefully from the battle scene. The air was not wholesome in this place of death. He could not be moved very far, but they found an overhanging rock at a nearby hill that gave some protection against the elements. They continued the fight for Legolas' life throughout the day and deep into the next night.

A shrill cry pierced the silence of the night. Aragorn looked up in alarm. He knew the sound well, and it appeared that his brothers had recognized it too. "Nazgûl" Elladan whispered fearfully. Again it was to be wondered what the foul creatures were doing in these lands, but the brothers did not think upon it in their concern that Vilya's presence may have been discovered. Legolas became very agitated at the sound of the evil creature's voice and had to be restrained.

They stayed hidden as it would be foolish to rush out into the night only to attract the notice of the searching wraiths, but when morning came, Aragorn said: "You must leave now, Elladan. Take the ring and ride as hard as possible for Rivendell. Elrohir, you go with him. Keep him safe at all costs. I will remain with Legolas until he is well enough to travel." Elladan started to protest, but Aragorn cut him off. "The ring must reach Father. You heard him. Nothing is more important."

Elladan bowed his head in defeat. "I know, but it does not make it easier."

Elrohir interfered. "You are right, and I will ride with Elladan. But Estel, Legolas still carries the poison within him. We have not skill enough to draw it from him. Until he is rid of it he will remain in danger. You must ride for Lórien. That is the closest haven now where you may find help for him. Rivendell is much too far, he will never make it." Aragorn looked at them with fear in his eyes. He had suspected that this may be the case, but he had hoped against all reason that the improvement in Legolas' condition was a sign that he had overcome the poison.

They ate breakfast in silence, whereafter Elrohir called out to the horses that had by now found their masters again. Within minutes they were mounted. "Give my love to Father." Aragorn called after them as they started out. "Tell him not to worry." Elrohir could not help but grin as he turned around. "That message is sure to put him in a fret. Whenever you claim to be fine he ends up patching you up or dragging you back from the brink of death." Aragorn just laughed. "Oh, be off with you. And ride safely, Elrohir. Take care of Elladan, will you." His brother nodded and waved as he raced away to catch up with his twin.

*************

Aragorn stayed in the cave with Legolas until the next morning. His condition had not deteriorated, but it certainly had not improved either. It was time to leave for Lórien. He saddled his horse and pulled Legolas up before him. They set off at an easy pace, trying to jar Legolas as little as possible. The elf was still drifting in an out of consciousness at random. Aragorn kept them high in the foothills, and in the distance the tower of Thornac could be seen, cold and grim against the sky. They made good time, and at the end of the day had passed around the southern tip of the Misty Mountains and entered Fangorn Forest. They sheltered amongst the ancient towering trees. During the night Legolas' fever began to climb.

He shivered uncontrollably and mumbled unintelligibly in elvish. Sometimes Aragorn could catch a phrase, and it was clear that the presence of the Nazgûl earlier was preying on his mind. He tried desperately to bring his friend's temperature down, to hold him still and calm his fears, but Legolas' thrashings ever grew in intensity. Suddenly he caught hold of Aragorn's sleeves. "Mellon nin, you must kill me." The eyes that begged Aragorn for release startled Aragorn. They had lost their fevered look and Legolas seemed quite lucid. And very, very serious.

"Legolas, I cannot do as you ask of me. Hold on my friend, we are but two days ride from Lórien."

But Legolas only gripped him harder and whispered fiercely: "I will not be slave to the Nazgûl again. Too long had I felt their whip on my soul. Please." Aragorn stared at the elf dumbfounded. He pulled Legolas' clothes away from the wound in his chest and inspected it again. Angry flames were radiating from it, and in the center the flesh had a dead look. Not just necrosis of the tissue itself, but death itself seemed to reside there. He looked up in anguish at his friend. Whatever the Orc had on his blade, it was no ordinary morgul poison. Legolas had drifted back into the fever again. Without hesitation Aragorn grabbed their possession and stashed them on Legolas' horse, which was serving as packhorse now. He bundled his friend up in his arms and deposited him on his horse. He jumped up behind and as soon as he was sure that the elf rested securely against him, he spurred his horse on to ride with all speed to Lórien. It was still pitch dark, but something told him that no time could be lost in waiting for the morning. Fearsome as the forest appeared in the dark, he paid no heed to the groaning of the trees.

He knew that the jarring of the horse's gait was causing Legolas immense pain, but he was loosing his friend to the fever and poison, and pressed on regardless. He did not stop during the day other than to water the horses at a stream, and continued far into the next night. The stars were dimming when he reached the borders of Lórien. Earlier on Legolas had struggled against Aragorn's grip in his delirium, calling out, crying as he begged for his release, but in the last hour or so he had gone completely limp. Fear beat high in Aragorn's throat.

He didn't notice when shadows began to follow him and drew nearer until, suddenly, half a dozen elves dropped from the canopy of trees into his path. So intent was Aragorn on reaching the Lady Galadriel that he almost ran them over before he realized that they were there. They cried out in anger, and when Aragorn finally brought the horses to a halt six arrows were pointing straight at his heart.

"Who are you to disturb these forests, human" one asked harshly in Common.

"I am Estel, son of Elrond, and this is Legolas Thrandruilion. We seek the assistance of Lady Galadriel. Please, the Prince has no time for idle words." His eyes begged them to understand his desperation as he replied in the gray tongue. They looked at him with surprise.

"You venture far from your home, young ranger. I have heard the Lady speak your name. You are welcome here."

"I thank you, and now request your permission to continue. Immediately"

"Of course. We will escort you." As they dashed off towards the palace, the elf introduced himself as Haldir, captain of his Lady's guard "Can we not take him from you? You look exhausted," he inquired from Aragorn.

"No. Thank you." It was true that Aragorn felt ready to drop. The muscles in his arms were stiff and aching, but he could not face having to let go of Legolas. It felt as if he would be giving up on him somehow.

It was another hour of hard riding before they finally reached the palace and Legolas could be brought to Galadriel. The beauty and youth of his siblings' grandmother escaped him in his anxiety, and when he addressed her it was with far less formality than Elrond would have approved of for such first meeting.

"My Lady, it is the Prince of Mirkwood. He needs your help. Please."

Galadriel's eyes roamed over the young ranger that she had heard so much of in recent years. Aragorn looked as if he would start shaking her in a moment if she did not comply with his plea, and wisely she turned from him to the still form of his friend. "Do not leave him, Aragorn son of Arathorn. He stays but for you."

"I won't." Aragorn knelt beside his friend and took his hand in his. "Legolas, hear my voice. Do not follow the shadows. Come back to me, mellon nin." He whispered into the pointed ear, and watched as Galadriel went to work. She prepared an ointment and worked it deep into the wound before she took Legolas' face into her hands and started chanting in a language even older than the elvish Aragorn had been brought up on. She continued for several hours. The angry flames gradually retreated around the wound, but the dead look remained at its center.

By the time Galadriel stopped, both she and Aragorn were swaying from fatigue. She looked into his eyes.

"You have done well to bring him here and to keep him in this world. He will rest now, but the danger has not yet passed. The poison is more unyielding than any I have encountered in my time. I fear that it may be many days yet before the result of this battle will be known." She placed her hand on his shoulder where he sat, bowed from weariness. "Sleep now. Legolas will require your strength later." She smiled softly at him, and he relented. Aragorn was fast asleep almost before he lay down on the other bed in the room.

**************

He woke at the sound of Legolas screaming. He rushed over to the elf's side. His eyes were wide open but stared at nothing in this world. "Peace my friend. You are safe. Dartho, dartho mellon nin" Aragorn tried to soothe Legolas back to sleep. The elf kept tossing and turning. His whole body was shaking, and he kept repeating that he would not call him master. There was no doubt in Aragorn's mind as to whom Legolas was addressing. Legolas was never one to speak of his cares, but Aragorn was well aware how deeply his brush with the Nazgûl had scarred his elven friend. To be so utterly within another's power had scared Legolas even more than all the other tortures he had endured in his long life.

The next few days became an endless battle between the fever-induced scenes in Legolas' mind and Aragorn's care for his friend. Galadriel provided him with medicines and offered assistants to relief Aragorn, but his concern for the elf never let him sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. His eyes were gritty, his mind in a fog and his voice was hoarse from the endless hours that he sang elvish ballads to the prince. Somehow this seemed to calm Legolas somewhat, and even if the assistants complained to Galadriel about the quality of the music, she brushed this off and encouraged Aragorn to continue his ministrations. By the end of a week anguish and fatigue left Aragorn looking more haggard than ever before. And yet there seemed to be no change in Legolas' condition.

Aragorn sat in the chair that had been placed next to Legolas' bed with his face resting in his hands. Tears were spilling down his face and his shoulders shook. It was thus that Arwen found the young ranger. She knelt at his side and pulled his head to her shoulder. "Do not grieve for him yet. He has not left this world and that alone must give us hope. Be his hope now." Aragorn stiffened. In his anguish for Legolas he had never once considered that he may meet Arwen here in this place. Joy and pain warred with each other in his heart and it was several moments before he could look her in the eyes.

"Arwen, Evenstar, I did not think to see you here. Do I find you well?" She looked at him, shadows surrounding his eyes, his skin pale from lack of sleep and lines of care etched deeply into his face.

"Far better than I find you, it seems." She smiled gently at him, and he felt his heart contract. He could not deal with this as well, and he looked away.

"I missed you." He whispered.

"And I you, but it has not changed matters, Estel. I still have no answer for the question in you heart. But come, I have not seeked you out to talk on this subject. Galadriel worries about your health. It will not do for you to fall ill because you do not take proper rest. I will stay with Legolas. Go." She pleaded with him softly. He stared into the air for a few minutes, and then shook his head.

"I wish to stay. There will be no rest for me now that I have seen you again in any event."

Arwen dropped her head. "Then I am sorry to have disturbed your peace so. I thought only to comfort you."

"And for that I thank you." Aragorn said as he turned back to Legolas, dismissing Arwen's presence by paying no further heed to her. After a while she left silently. Aragorn slumped forward and again his head descended into his hands. Despair coursed through his body. "Oh Legolas, wake up. I cannot stand this anymore. Why did she have to come here? I need your counsel, my friend." He whispered in anguish.

****************

Since first he heard the cry of the Nazgûl, Legolas' dreams had been filled with the terror of his time with the wraith. Each time his side was jarred it felt as if more of the dark creature's foul potion was being introduced into his body. He heard the jeering voice of the Nazgûl taunting him, saying that he was still its servant; that he had never really left. The nightmare had never ended. On the edge of his hearing he sometimes thought he heard a voice telling him of hope, friendship and nights under stars so bright that they illuminated the forest with a soft silver light. He so wished it were true. That such things were still meant for him. But the pain and the nightmares were slowly robbing him of his hope as a band of steel ever tightened across his chest.

His world became darker as the shadows drew nearer. Somewhere someone was weeping. He wanted to comfort the person, somehow sensing that the grief was partly for him. He wanted to assure the mourner that his death would bring relief from the endless torture, he was not afraid. He turned from the light to embrace the darkness seeking him when he heard the voice of his childhood friend call him back. "Legolas, you must remain. I have broken his heart. You cannot do so too. The king in him will not survive and the hope of men will be lost. Stay, my friend, for him. " He wanted to deny the voice. Scream that he was so tired of the pain. That he wanted the peace that was waiting for him on the other side. The voice pleaded once more: "He needs you. He has been strong for you for so long. Be strong for him now. Have courage, my friend. The darkness that is in you will not conquer you, unless you allow it to do so now. You are still Legolas, servant to none but you father. Remember Aragorn, and turn back."

For an eternity Legolas remained undecided. Then he heard Aragorn's plea for help, and he slowly turned once more. And began the painful journey back to his friend.

Aragorn was startled out of his sorrow by a coughing fit that racked Legolas. He quickly moved to ease his friend into an upright position. Legolas continued to cough. Dry heaves shaking him until he had no breath. He struggled desperately for air. Aragorn grabbed a handful of the Athelas that had been spread on the night table to ease the mind of both patient and healer, crushed the petals and held it under Legolas' nose. The soothing fragrance did the trick and Legolas drew a few ragged breaths before he started coughing again. But this time he coughed up phlegm. Big, black globs were expelled from his lungs, and the same foul odor that had clung to the Orc blade filled the room. Galadriel came into the room at an almost unseemly pace.

"Finally!" she cried. "The poison would not leave him until he made up his mind to be rid of it." She showed Aragorn how to beat Legolas gently on his back, loosening the phlegm further, and easing its passage from the elf's lungs. Several bouts of coughing followed before the flood began to abate. Legolas' body was exhausted, and he had not really come awake during the whole ordeal. Yet the shadows had lifted from him, and his wound finally began to close. It took two more days before he regained awareness at long last. By then Aragorn's body had decided to shut down despite its owner's best endeavours, and he lay deeply asleep on the nearby bed.

Legolas woke to the soft voice of Arwen, singing to him from the chair normally occupied by Aragorn. He smiled at her. Even that hurt and a soft moan escaped him. "Sshh." She lay a finger on his lips. "Don't try to talk yet. You throat is raw from all the coughing." She raised his head and helped him drink water from a glass.

"I thought I dreamt of you and Lothlórien," Legolas whispered.

Arwen smiled again. "I could not see you go. Aragorn would have been devastated. You mean far more to my father's son than ever you can imagine."

"So do you, " he countered.

Her smile faded away. "Legolas, for four years I have been trying to convince myself that what I feel for Estel is no more than an infatuation." She smiled ruefully. "But four years is a long time for a mere infatuation to last in the absence of the object of such love." She lowered her head. "I knew he came from the day he brought you here, but I did not visit. I was afraid of how I would react if I saw him again. And when I did ... I would have loved nothing more than to have given him the comfort he so desperately required. And truly, my heart leapt with joy when I saw him. But Legolas you must see how impossible it is. What it will do to Elrond to loose his daughter to the mortal fate along with his son." Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding.

Legolas was far too weak to enter into such discussions yet, and he just sighed and closed his eyes. "Arwen, he loves you with every fiber of his being. He too has remained constant in this, and will continue to do so for all time. At least leave him with some hope for the future." She did not know how to reply, and remained silent for a while. Legolas opened his eyes again, and caught sight of the ranger sprawled on the other bed. Arwen saw the path of his gaze, and chuckled softly. Legolas raised a questioning eyebrow.

"He has remained at your side for more than ten days with little rest in between. I suspect Galadriel drugged him when she saw that you were on the mend."

"He will not like her for that." Legolas grinned. But then his own body's weakness caught up with him and he drifted off to sleep again. Arwen remained with him until Aragorn began to stir, and then quietly slipped out of the room. It was difficult to say whom she had really stayed to watch.

Aragorn lay on his back, blinking his eyes. From the light in the room he saw that he must have dozed far longer than the hour he had intended. As much as half a day must have passed. A suspicion grew in his mind, but as he saw Legolas still sleeping peacefully he decided that perhaps it was for the best.

He rose and took his place by his friend' side. The motion roused Legolas. He turned his head towards Aragorn, and the two stared into each other's eyes for the longest moment. Then Legolas reached up and pulled the ranger's head towards him. They rested with their foreheads against each other in silence for a long time. "You age me before my time, my friend. Take care or you will have me looking like Mithrandir soon."

"And who says you don't already. When was the last time you looked in a mirror." An evil grin tucked at his mouth. "Or had a bath for that matter."

"Hey! I bathed! Galadriel had one dragged in here when I refused to leave your side. She even threatened to wash me herself!" His eyes grew large at the memory. Aragorn who could not remember a mother's care was appalled at the thought of Galadriel holding a cloth to wash behind his ears. Or worse. He shuddered and Legolas could not contain his mirth.

"Wait till I tell Elrohir."

"You wouldn't!?"

"Oh, would I not? Well I suppose that will depend on what you are prepared to pay.."

Aragorn looked at him in disbelief. "I should have throttled you myself, you ungrateful elf!" Legolas sobered immediately, but Aragorn started to apologise. "I did not mean it as it sounded, Legolas. You owe me nothing I do not owe you twice over."

Legolas smiled at him. "We've been through a bit together, haven't we." Aragorn took his hand and held it in silence while understanding passed between the friends.

"I'm glad you decided to come back." Aragorn said at last.

"Well I had to, if that's what it took to make you shut up. Anyone ever tell you that you sing like an Orc?" Legolas teased.

"Yes." Aragorn replied darkly. "Galadriel." Legolas burst out laughing. He could just imagine the haughty Lady's ears shudder at the sound of a near tone-deaf ranger. "Well, your songs kept me rooted to this world, so don't let it bother you too much. All right, if it would bother you sufficiently to make you take singing lessons.." Aragorn swatted at him halfheartedly. He was far too pleased to see his friend alive and mending to bother about his teasing.

"How about I organize dinner. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"You're as bad as a hobbit, Strider. No thought but for your stomach." Aragorn ignored the taunt as he left the room to find some sustenance. His heart sang a song as pure as ever delivered by a bard. Legolas survived. And not just his body.

****************

At roughly the same time that Legolas began to heal, Elladan and Elrohir arrived in Rivendell. In the fortnight since they left the two friends they had ridden with all speed, only taking rest when the horses required it. Several times during the first few nights had they heard the cry of the Nazgûl, but as they left the lands around Isengard behind, these grew silent. Worry for their father and Legolas yet remained, but little could be gained by dwelling on it, and so they pressed on.

It was a beautiful spring morning when finally they approached Imladris. They could see the figure of Elrond sitting quietly in the sun on the balcony. He waived at them when they stopped in the courtyard and jumped from their horses. They ran towards him like small children, and enveloped him in a crushing embrace. "Slow down, young ones." He laughed, but held them as firmly in his arms. He was still weak after his ordeal, but his wounds had healed well. He looked over their shoulders and asked in alarm: "Where are Estel and Legolas?" His eyes searched theirs, the fear evident in his gaze.

"Peace, Ada. Estel is well. Or at least when last we saw him." Elladan replied with a grin. At his last words Elrohir poked him in the ribs with his elbow and glared at him. "What?" He asked his brother. "You know Estel. He has probably found a whole nest of Orcs to fight by now."

"Oh, and that is supposed to make Father feel better, is it?" Elrohir inquired sarcastically.

"And what about Legolas?" Elrond did not miss the fact that his eldest had carefully neglected to mention the sylvan elf.

They dropped their eyes. "Legolas saved my life by stepping in front of a knife aimed for me. It was a morgul blade and penetrated his lung."

"Oh, Illuvitar, no!" Elrond exclaimed.

"No! Father he lived." Elrohir said, but then fell silent again. Elrond looked at the twins.

"But you don't believe that he would have survived very long thereafter. Where did you leave them?" He asked quietly.

"They were close to Lórien, so Aragorn was going to try and take him there. We had to return with the ring." In his worry about his son and his friend, Elrond had no thought for the jewel. Elladan's words recalled him to his duty.

"You found it?"

"Here, Father." Elladan knelt next to his father, and pulled the ring from his finger. Elrond held it in his hand for a long moment before he slid it onto his hand with a sigh.

"Truly, Sauron cursed us the day these were handed out. Ever we have to be vigilant against it falling into the Dark One's hands. Ever we have to guard against using it ourselves, lest we be corrupted by the power we wield." He stared at the ring that had all but disappeared from sight again. He looked up. "All went well?" The twins knew he was asking whether the presence of the ring was detected by any. Again they looked uncomfortable. "What is it?" Elrond asked.

"We only caught up with Quen close to Isengard. The place was crawling with Orcs and Nazgûl" Elrohir replied.

"Nazgûl?!" Elrond exclaimed.

"We don't think they sensed anything. They flew across us a couple of times, but they never approached and we left them behind when we exited those lands." Elladan was quick to placate his father's fears. "Certainly no-one followed us here."

"Orcs and Nazgûl? What were they doing there?" Elrond looked puzzled.

"I know not Father. Elladan and I have wondered that several times. But Orcs are spreading into every corner of Middle-Earth these days. Perhaps they were searching for the One Ring again."

The silence dragged on between them as each one's thoughts dwelled on the implications should such search be successful. Then Elrond broke the spell by asking: "And Quen?"

Elrohir looked uncomfortable, and Elladan said curtly: "Dead." Elrond lifted a questioning eyebrow and Elrohir replied: "He was insane, Father. The loss of his family in the last war must have unbalanced him, and the further loss of the ring when we took it from him drove him over the edge. He tried to kill Elladan. He probably killed Legolas." He lowered his head. "I know I should not have done it, but at the time it seemed the only way to stop him from hurting anyone else. He had already caused far too much grief in our family, and his actions could have spelled the doom of Arda."

"I do not fault you, my son," Elrond said as he touched the younger twin's head. "But I grief for the hurt you do to your soul each time you have to take a life." Elladan placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, sharing his sorrow at the loss of an immortal life. Before the somberness could completely claim them, Celboril walked onto the balcony with Elrond's tea and almost dropped the tray at the sight of the brothers.

"Elladan! Elrohir! My lords, thank Illuvitar you are safely returned! " The tray safely disposed of he began to grill the twins with questions which they answered as best they could, until Elrond called a halt to the interrogation with a laugh.

"Celboril, bring more tea and some refreshments for these two miscreants. You can join us and continue their questioning then, but look at them. Two malnourished, filthy elflings. I fear their grandmother will have my head if ever she witnessed such a sight." The twins protested loudly and at length, but inside they felt the peace of Imladris seep into their hearts and wash away the worry. They even began to hope again that by some miracle Legolas might have survived.

****************

The object of their hope was recovering nicely in Lothlórien, even if he had to endure the endless teasing of his human friend. Legolas bore this in silence, knowing that such exuberance was partly due to Aragorn's relief at his survival, but mostly a cover for his continued heartache. In the days that followed Arwen visited Legolas from time to time. Sometimes Aragorn would stay and share in their mirth. At other times he would greet her with a smile and then quietly leave. Always afterwards he would be silent, and the lost look in his eyes did not escape his friend. The strain of being around Arwen without being able to touch her, seek her out and share his love with her, was beginning to tell on Aragorn. Legolas wished he could recuperate quicker so that they may leave this place that had become such torture to his friend. At least Haldir and Aragorn had become fast friends, and the short hunting trips the warrior took him on did Aragorn a world of good.

They were all joined in the main hall with Galadriel and Celeborn for the evening meal one night when Legolas, who was finally allowed outside his bedchamber, said: "Lady Galadriel, I have often wondered how the elf, Quen, had knowledge of Vilya. Do you have any idea?"

Aragorn saw something he had not thought possible. Galadriel looked positively uncomfortable while exchanging a glance with her husband. It was Celeborn that answered. "After her visit in Rivendell, Arwen regaled us with the tale of how Lord Elrond almost perished in the earthquake a few years ago. She mentioned that the ring had been instrumental in bringing the situation back under control. We discussed the rings that Sauron had dispensed and their powers. Quen was serving in the palace at the time, and though he was not present at the discussion he must have overheard somehow."

"But why wait so long to make use of the knowledge," Aragorn asked.

"There is not much contact between Lórien and Rivendell. He had to await his chance to go there on legitimate business or his presence would have caused suspicion. He certainly would not have gained entrance to Lord Elrond's house otherwise. The delivery of our messages to him was the perfect excuse."

Legolas nodded, "And I don't suppose the accident Calean suffered was all that accidental, either." Celeborn shook his head.

"The youngster swore that something had made his horse stumble. And that the race had been instigated by a known friend of Quen's."

"Well, one mystery less," Aragorn smiled, and the sight pulled at Arwen's heart. She was not ignorant of the pain her presence was causing her young admirer, and being around him constantly was eating away at her resolve. Her own heart ached and pleaded to surrender. She wished with all her might that she could flee from Lothlórien, but knew that Galadriel would not approve of such cowardly tactics. She sighed softly as she made up her mind to speak to him again.

Later that evening she softly approached the ranger where he sat on a branch overlooking the splendour of Lothlórien at night. The millennia old tree was gigantic and offered plenty of room in its boughs. She sank down next to him and sat silently for a while. She did not miss the stiffening of his shoulders, but he refused to speak. At last she reached out and took his hand in hers. Aragorn sat perfectly still. Her touch was burning him with a flame that was both agony and ecstasy.

"I love you," she whispered at the edge of his hearing. His head whipped up and his eyes locked with hers. Tears were glistening within them. He reached out and cupped her cheek with his free hand. She leaned into the caress and a single tear spilled down her face. He brushed it away with his calloused thumb and leaned in slowly. He hesitated as he neared her, but when she made not attempt to pull away, he kissed her lips shyly. The kiss went on for a while, but when he wanted to deepen it, Arwen finally withdrew. She looked at him sadly. "Estel, I can promise you no future. Only that my heart will remain true to you. Our situation has not changed."

He sighed and nodded. "I know. I wish … how I wish." He looked away. She pulled his face back to her. "I know. This time here in Lothlórien may be all we will ever have." She looked down and then said with a mischievous smile: "Let us not waste it." They resumed where they had left off. Aragorn knew this was only a temporary reprieve from the pain, but he threw caution to the wind as he softly whispered about his love in the elegantly pointed ear. The happiness in Arwen's eyes as she heard the words left no doubt that she did not rue her decision to venture on this perilous path.

**************

Whereas the days had dragged on interminably before, they now seemed to be winged. Inexorably Legolas' convalescence proceeded and the time came when he was fit to travel once more. Knowing that their continued absence would worry Elrond no end, messages had been sent to Rivendell as soon as Legolas' recovery was assured. There was no pressing reason to leave, but both Aragorn and Arwen knew that the visit could not be extended indefinately without good cause either. Whereas he previously could not urge his body to heal fast enough, Legolas now almost felt guilty at his speedy recovery. The change in Aragorn was astounding. The young human almost glowed with happiness, even if Legolas still sometimes caught a look of endless sadness in his eyes in unguarded moments.

Saying goodbye was a painful exercise, but in the end Legolas and Aragorn departed from Lothlórien with plenty of provisions and the promise of a warm welcome whenever their travels should bring them to these forests. Galadriel, it seemed, did not disapprove of Arwen's choice. In the endless days at his friend's side, she had seen the loyalty, strength and determination that would in time be the hallmarks of the future king's character.

Sitting around the campfire that evening, Aragorn was lost in thought as he stared into the fire. He remembered Arwen's parting words: "I know not when we may meet again, my love, but until we do I will see your face in the stars, hear your voice in the sigh of the trees and feel you lips in the wind's caress." He promptly helped to seal the memory of the latter. Even in the sorrow of the parting his heart soared with the knowledge that its call no longer went unanswered. He smiled at the memory. Legolas grinned at his friend.

"And I suppose I will have to endure such lovesick sighs and smiles for the entire road," he teased.

Aragorn smirked evilly. "Oh, not just that, my friend. I plan on reciting poetry at every opportunity. And if you do not undertake to diligently do the cooking, cleaning and all such other chores as I may command, I will regale you with all the love ballads I have heard in Lothlórien. Orc style." Legolas groaned in mock despair, but he was relieved at Aragorn's good spirits. Truly his father had named him aptly. It was so easy to restore hope to this human's heart.

****************

They traveled slowly and enjoyed the last few days together. Where the paths from Lórien, Mirkwood and Rivendell met, they parted company with the promise to visit again soon. Both journeyed on alone with caution but met with no accident. Summer was well under way by the time Aragorn rode into Rivendell with a song in his heart. It was good to be home.

His brothers almost crushed him in their embrace and he could see the relief in their eyes as he assured them that Legolas' absence was not cause for concern. He found his father in his study. The elder elf's eyes lit up at the sight of his youngest entering the room. He hurried over to welcome the ranger and inquired after Legolas. Satisfied that the young elf that had become like a fourth son to him was safe, he held the young man at arm's length. His eyes searched Aragorn's when he stated: "You were in Lothlórien for a long time."

Aragorn hesitated for a moment before replying: "She sends her love, Father." Elrond held his gaze for a long moment before pulling him back into a hug. "It is well, my son. Thank you." Aragorn closed his eyes in relief and held his father close.

Later that night Aragorn sat on the bridge, staring out over the river that flowed peacefully beneath him. He looked up as Elladan joined him. He had missed his brothers and welcomed the company. They sat in silence for a while until Elladan said: "So, you came to an understanding." His younger brother just smiled at him. And at some inner memory.

The End.