Title: A Star Wept for Me

Feedback: please please please please

Author: Estelrond, but I go by a whole bunch of other things too...as you well know...

Rating: PG-13. Lots of Aragorn and Legolas torture. Plus an OC...hugs Farlest

Disclaimer: They're not mine, and they never will be...sniff Farlest is my creation but I do not own him, he owns me. That mischievous little devil...

This little story is dedicated to the infamous authoress, Cassia. For without her I would never have discovered AFI and this fic would never have come into being as, 'Death of Seasons', 'Girls Not Grey' and 'Bleed Black', were one of the primary inspirations for this. Title included.

Ok, I'll shut up and start now...

Part One

A Fox on Two Legs

I saw a star beneath the stairs glowing through the melting walls.
Who will be the first to begin their fall?
Or will we become one?
Am I the star beneath the stairs?

-AFI

Legolas and Aragorn were standing in front of Thranduil's desk, and not even the Elven-king's glare seemed to bother the two at that particular moment.

The ranger was grinning from ear to ear, without any inhibitions whatsoever. His shoulders shuddering from the laughter that he was trying so very hard to suppress. Legolas was trying to hold a façade of innocence, but the corners of his lips kept curving slightly upward in an almost smile, giving the elf a rather smug look.

Thranduil kept glaring until both friends were able to maintain of at least half-believable seriousness.

"This is no laughing matter." Legolas' father said solemnly. "Those two 'pets' of yours wreaked havoc on a very important business meeting. And because of it, the amendment to the trading agreement is in jeopardy. So..." The elf folded his hands , leaning forward towards the two friends, "I have decided that you both will go to Dale and conduct the rest of the agreement."

If Legolas had not been so very good at maintaining an air of nonchalance, his mouth would have dropped open.

Unfortunately, Aragorn was not half as accomplished in this realm as his immortal companion and his jaw was as far away from the roof of his mouth as it could go beyond injuring himself.

"Ranger, close your mouth. You look like a beached fish." Snapped Thranduil.

Legolas heard the click of Aragorn's teeth as he clamped his jaw firmly back in place.

After a moment of obvious struggling, "That's not fair!" the man finally got out.

My cause in sending you two is perfectly justified. The palace could use a little peace and quiet." Said Thranduil firmly, his jaw set just as firmly as Aragorn's.

Legolas was about to say something, try and cool the tempers of both his friend and his father, when one of the two missing-up-until-this-point miscreants of the morning appeared over the King's shoulder.

The Mirkwood prince chanced a glance in Aragorn's direction, the ranger's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. As it was, Legolas was hardly breathing.

The fox cub seemed to think he was the only one in the room.

One of two orphans that Aragorn and Legolas had found on a jaunt into the forest, they had been named Aran and Oran, Oran being the one on the oblivious Elven-king's chair.

At the moment, the little rascal decided that he needed a chew toy and that Thranduil's ear was perfect for the moment.

Legolas groaned.

An elf walking in the corridor outside the king's study heard a shout and shook his head in dismay. He hoped that the king wasn't being too hard on the two youngsters. The fiasco at the meeting hadn't truly been their fault after all. Besides, they needed a little excitement now and then.

Half an hour later, the pair emerged from their lengthy and very irate lecture by the furious elven-king.

Aragorn was wearing a slightly dazed expression and Legolas was much paler than usual. The elf was trying to console the trembling bundle of fur that he cradled gently in his arms.

"I thought we weren't going to get out of that one with our skins." Muttered Aragorn darkly. He was still in shock and hadn't firmly regained his hearing after Thranduil's fierce tirade.

"we're lucky we're only going to Dale to amend the trade agreement. I have the feeling that Adar would have us do ten years of hard labor as well." Legolas shook his head; they were fortunate. When the fox had bitten his father...well, let's just say that even Aragorn had been impressed with Thranduil's vocabulary.

Hopefully Aran would make his appearance before they left in the morning. Legolas wanted to get the little rogues into good hands before they went. He desperately wanted to avoid any more incidents if they could be at all prevented.

Putting his arm around his friend's shoulder, he gave his friend a reassuring grin, "But now that that's over, what say we go ask Varantith if he'll watch the foxes for us while we're gone."

Aragorn brightened, "All right!"

The ranger knew that Varantith's wife had a soft spot for Legolas, and always had something tasty for her favorite prince. Not to mention anyone that happened to accompany him...

"Our luck must be holding out." Sighed Aragorn, slinging the saddle over his mare's back. "If your father hadn't been late to breakfast this morning..." he trailed off. The rest was probably best left unsaid.

Aran had made his reappearance that morning. Attempting to go for a swim in a pitcher of milk no less!

Legolas had been mortified, and even Aragorn was sober, as they'd retrieved the impudent little fellow from his poorly chosen swimming hole.

Giving both foxes to Varantith, they had hastily hurried to the stables, anxious to leave before someone told Thranduil about the episode.

Stopping before the gates, Legolas called out a few words in Elvish, the gate opened before the prince's voice, allowing the two friends to ride through.

Legolas nodded a greeting to the two guards, walking the horse as slowly as possible. Once through they coaxed the animals to a trot, and once out of site, a flat out gallop through the forest.

Laughing with the ecstasy of freedom, the elf and ranger dodged trees and jumped logs, trying to outrace the other. The wind whipped their hair, sending it blowing out behind them.

Legolas ducked a low hanging branch, he was clearly in the lead, but even so he slowed, the forest was dark even in daylight, and he had no wish for either of them to get killed pr hurt on so simple a mission as this.

Aragorn reigned in beside him, "What's wrong?"

"Not a thing, Aragorn. I simply don't want you running into a tree."

Aragorn gave an exasperated sigh, "Sometimes you Elves are no fun at all. I swear, you all think I'm going to fall apart."

Legolas shrugged, giving his friend a sly grin, "I don't know, maybe you will."

"Oh come on, Legolas, let's go already!" Aragorn spurred his mount forward in a huff.

The elf laughed, "You're entirely too affected by the same taunts over and over. You really need to develop an immunity to it."

Aragorn frowned, "No I think I'll pass. I don't want to be a stuck-up bit of royalty like someone else I know."

Legolas smirked, "Hmmmm...that's all right. At least that stuck-up bit of royalty takes a bath more than once a month."

The look that Aragorn gave his friend was positively baleful. Urging his mount to a trot he rode past Legolas. The elf didn't bother to catch up. After all, if Aragorn was determined to be difficult, why should he make it worse? But then, he really couldn't let such a perfect opportunity go bad.

"And brushes his hair daily. And doesn't fall off of cliffs!"

Aragorn didn't even bother to look back over his shoulder. Why did the elf always bring that one up? It was bad enough that he seemed to have a natural attraction to those long falls that always ended in jarring pain. "One of these days, you are going to fall off a cliff, my friend. And I am never, ever going to let you live it down."

Legolas let it drop, "Well, we should reach Dale within the next day. If we camp by the river tonight it will be safer. The forest is less dense there. ARAGORN! STOP!"

The ranger's horse stopped abruptly, its nose bumping into the other horse's flank. "What? What is it Legolas? I don't see anything."

His friend had already dismounted; a leaf on a tall shrub had caught his attention. Examining it, his face grew solemn.

"Aw come on, Legolas, this is no time to pick flowers!" Aragorn's head appeared over the elf's shoulder, then he saw the blood on the leaf in his friend's hand, and was immediately silenced.

"Someone's been injured here, recently." Legolas voice was quiet. He hated to think about any living creature left out here, injured and alone, at the mercy of spiders or whatever else might decide to take advantage of his hurts.

Aragorn was already in his element, a tracker at heart, he was examining the surrounding area. "He went this way, Legolas." He pointed away from the river, into the forest. The ranger turned to his friend, "Whoever or whatever it is, he's loosing a lot of blood. He's as good as dead if wolves or worse get a scent on him."

His brow wrinkled , "That's odd." He muttered.

"What's odd?"

"There's no tracks. Blood, but no tracks. And as you know, that can only mean one thing..."

Straightening from his crouched position, he met Legolas' gaze, "He's an elf, and he'll die out here."

The elf's blue-grey eyes were hard with determination, "Not if I can help it."

Aragorn put his hand on his friend's shoulder, "I knew you would want to help. Dale can wait."

Putting his hand atop Aragorn's the elf smiled, "Hannon le, mellon-nin. We have to try."

Legolas detested the thought of someone, frightened and alone in the darkness that Mirkwood had become, and even if he survived the day, night brought terrors that struck terror into the greatest warriors of his people. He would not willingly leave anyone here to face the dangers that hid in the shadows of what had once been a grand forest.

Still on the trail of the wounded elf half an hour later, Aragorn turned a skeptical glance on his companion.

"He's moving awfully fast for someone who's loosing as much blood as he is. Are you sure it's not a trap of some type?"

"I am not going to leave until I am sure. I could not live with myself if my conscience continually reminded me that I may have caused the death of another who had done no wrong."

Aragorn groaned, "How did I know you'd say something like that?" Then he smiled sadly, "But you are right my friend, I too could not live with something like that. Though," he paused, that familiar glint in his eye, "I would not have thousands of years to contemplate my mistake."

"Oh, you're insufferable!" snapped Legolas, "Just follow the trail."

A few minutes later, Aragorn stopped so suddenly that Legolas ran into him. "Hey! Be careful! You could have told me you were stopping!"

"It just ends." Said Aragorn, pointing to the trail they had been following. And it did indeed. The dark stain in the grass just stopped, as if it had never been.

Legolas had a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach. Unless their quarry had stopped here and bound up his wounds, something had gotten to him before he and Aragorn had. Spiders most likely, as there were no signs of dragging.

Just then, something grabbed him from behind, dragging him towards the forest floor. Crashing to the ground he fought violently, struggling to free himself from whatever had him. He heard the unmistakable sound of Aragorn's sword leaving its sheath and his friend frantically calling his name. But all his resistance ceased abruptly as he felt a cold blade touch his throat.

Aragorn moved forward, a distinctly dangerous look in his eye.

"I wouldn't do that. I'm not kindly inclined to being crowded." The voice had a pleasant lilt to it; yet, there were undertones of pain and weariness that almost put a distasteful twist to the words. It was soft, deadly.

Legolas glanced a look down, there were raven strands, mingling with his own golden hair, and the hand that held the knife was long-fingered, it looked as if it belonged to an artist or craftsman. The prince gave a wry chuckle, they had found their quarry it seemed. And he had been as quiet as little Oran on Thranduil's shoulder, waiting to bite.

"What do you want?" asked Legolas, his voice held an almost defiant tone, despite his disadvantaged position. He sincerely hated it when someone got the best of him, and somehow he was now more aware of his surroundings, if that was possible, especially the rock digging into his leg...

"What I want?" his assailant gave a low laugh, it sounded rather sad, "well it hardly matters right now. What I want to know is what you and why you were following me. Well, I'm waiting!"

Impatient devil isn't he? Thought Legolas.

"We saw the blood and wondered if you were injured. We only wish to help." Aragorn's voice was strained, this strange elf had his friend, and the raven-haired being's deep green glare was decidedly unsettling.

"Truly. I wondered, if you were stalking my, why you were making more noise than an enraged orc." There was a slight smirk to the thin lips.

"Excuse me?" hissed Legolas, "Enraged orc? Right now I'm an enraged elf would you please remove your blade from my throat!?!?"

"Oh yes, forgot about that little trinket. So sorry." He released the death grip he'd had on Legolas' shoulder and resheathed his blade.

The prince clambered to his feet, while Aragorn hastily moved to stand beside his friend, already berating himself for letting this stranger catch them off their guard. Whilst Legolas sighed in relief, it was indeed an elf.

Albeit a strange one. He was dressed in rough, almost ranger-like clothing, not the usual garb that the immortals preferred. He wore a sword on one hip and a dagger on the other, and at that moment he was reclining casually against a log, as if the intense scrutiny did not bother him at all. His sharp gaze and handsome, angular features did indeed bring to mind Aran and Oran, only more cunning, if that was possible, not sinister in any way, unless you could call a wolf at bay that.

Even that relaxed poise spoke of action, as if at any moment he could be come a lethal warrior, ready to attack. He was dangerous, even for an elf, Legolas could see that, and he didn't like it.