A/N Merry Christmas! :) I hope you all are having a awesome holiday/break! I know that this is late *hangs head in shame* but...I have no good excuse. Anyway, consider this my Christmas present to you! Oh, and you guys should check out the He is the Gift video, it is amazing. :) Thanks so much, you guys.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter One

The rain lashed down on Legolas and Aragorn with a ferocity that made Aragorn briefly wonder if they had somehow personally offended the heavens. It had already drenched them and saturated the ground, which made running as fast as they could, hard as they slugged through the mud.

"Remind me again how we got into this position?" Legolas called jovially over to Aragorn, who dodged a tree before answering.

"We where stupid!" Aragorn yelled out, panting heavily. Behind them came the loud sounds of pursuit, the orcs' jeering and snarling echoing eerily through that dark forest, as the night sky was covered by the dark rain clouds. Legolas made an off-hand nod in agreement, before ducking to his left to avoid the arrow that came shooting past him. Twisting, the elf nocked an arrow faster than the eye could see and fired a return shot. He was rewarded with a screech and started running again, easily catching back up with Aragorn as they raced through the thinning trees.

"How was I suppose to know that there were orcs waiting to ambush whoever came along?" Aragorn shouted with a decidedly grumpy expression. Getting jumped by orcs was not his opinion of a good ending to a long day and hw couldn't seem to share his companion's attitude. Why this didn't seem to bother the elf, he would never know.

"I wasn't blaming you!" Legolas said back, though there was that still the annoyingly humorous expression on his face. "I just think it is interesting that it always us. I think that Valar has it out to get us."

"No, really." The man replied back, giving him an exasperated look as he skidded around a corner. Legolas grabbed the man's arm, forcing him to duck down, and a second later another arrow flew past and landed in the darkness.

By now even the elf was startling to come short of breath, and Aragorn was winded but the orcs seemed as fresh as ever. They even wasting air to yell curses and threats.

"They've got to give it up soon—" Legolas grunted, the smile slowing slipping off his face bit by bit. His bow was still in his hand ready for use and Aragorn had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

Rounding a bend, Legolas abruptly swore as he was forced to duck a sword that was suddenly heading straight for his face. Beside him, he heard Aragorn also give a cry of surprise but had no time to look over as he sunk one of the arrows that had been clenched in his fist, ready for use, deep into the orc's chest that had just tried to behead him. Ripping it out, he nocked it, looking wildly around.

A second group of orcs had been waiting to finish the ambush, and Aragorn and Legolas had fallen for it —again.

The sound of metal on metal split the air as Aragorn blocked a blow and yanked his sword back, running his enemy through with ease.

"Legolas!" he yelled, meaning that he wanted the elf behind his back so that they would not be as open. A second later the orc he was fighting dropped with a carefully crafted arrow sticking out of its back and he felt, rather than saw, Legolas move behind him.

By now, the ground around them was crawling with the evil creatures, and Aragorn and Legolas began to struggle to keep them at bay, though they slashed, hacked, and shot with everything that they had. The battle had been thrown into havoc and with the orcs largely outnumbering the two friends, the elf and the human where slowly forced apart, forcing their level of fighting to a whole other degree.

Twirling to avoid a sharp knife, Legolas expertly blocked another blow, and this time managed to land a glancing blow of his own. Behind him, came the sound of an orc grunt and without thinking, he flipped the knife in his hand over and jabbed it behind him as he twisted to the left. He was rewarded with a gurgled yell of pain that quickly stopped. The elf knew he had ended its miserable life.

Another orc, this time to his right, made a move towards him and Legolas flung his other knife at it, wrenching its twin free from behind and leapt forward. His hand came in contact with the handle of his second knife, which had just stopped abruptly in the orc's chest.

Dancing forward, Legolas saw lights as he was suddenly hit over the side of his head from behind. Stumbling forward, he caught himself graceful with his fingertips before leaping back into action, gutting the orc that had managed to hit him.

Pausing, Legolas found a small lull in the fight and used it to take several deep breathes, looking around for Aragorn as he did so.

The man was not far away and seemed to be doing quite well. He at least had fewer orcs coming at him, as he was human. Orcs harbored a deep hatred for elves and would go to all means to wipe them out if they could, rejoicing in it with their black hearts far more than they would a human or a dwarf.

The man ducked a tricky blow and sunk his sword into flesh, but Legolas hardly noticed this as he was once again forced to sift his attention to the nearest orc. Things where quickly getting out of hand and he wanted to be back to back with Aragorn, just in case.

Behind him, a mountain of an orc began to shove his way through the smaller orc. He wanted to have a turn against his greatest foe, the elf. In one hand he welded a harshly created sword while in the other he swung an evil looking, spiked club.

The rain fell faster than ever making the ground slick and obscuring vision until a sudden crack of lightening illuminated the clearing. Once the bright light had receded, however, they were left to fumble in the dark that seemed blacker than ever.

Legolas swung blindly as he let his eyes adjust back to the night and was rewarded with orcish cry of pain. He didn't think that he killed the creature, but he had defiantly wounded it. Sensing a presence behind him, he twisted, his knives at the ready.

It was lucky that he did so, because the sword of the brute orc was already halfway towards his neck, ready to free him of his head.

Dropping hard to the ground, Legolas felt more than heard the whoosh of the sword and knew that it had been close. Close enough to catch the tie on the end of his third braid, the long one, for his blonde hair was now cascading into his face and blinding his sight as he shook his head, its wet strands framing his face.

Hurtling to his feet again, Legolas shook his hair out of his face and dove into the fight. Jabbing his left knife forward, he brought his right one up and snapped it towards the orc's broad chest. The dark creature, however, was well trained and blocked the prince's attack, though the elf noted with smirk of satisfaction that it was with some difficultly. Legolas had the obvious disadvantage, however, and the smirk quickly faded. No matter his level of skill it was hard to fight ten orcs at once.

The rain seemed to be reaching its climax and was falling so hard that it appeared to be one, blinding, massive silver sheet that soaked everything it touched. And it was then, when the weather was at its most ferocious, that everything went wrong all at once.

Aragorn let out yell, this time a definite scream of pain, and without giving a second's thought for himself, Legolas turned. If the man had hurt himself in battle, and was unable to defend himself, then it was up to Legolas to save his life. That was a responsibility that he would not and could not take lightly.

The orc Legolas was fighting roared with delight and brought his club up and swinging into a high arc, before bringing it down again with such speed that the air began to whistle. The great prince of Mirkwood never stood a chance.

Twisting back to face the orc, Legolas had just time to register the blur of movement that was mere inches away from his eyes. Then all he knew was a pain, an agony that seemed to shock him to the very core of his being, and then everything around him faded into instant blackness.

Aragorn rolled over before a lethal sword had the chance to do more damage than it already had and shoved his own sword into the foul being's chest. His tunic had a rapidly spreading stain of scarlet from his left shoulder and he hesitantly drew back the tattered tunic, trying to get a good look at the wound while he was momentarily left alone.

Suddenly, loud raucous cries went up from where Legolas was fighting and his head shot up, worry for his friend coursing through his heart.

"Legolas." Aragorn whispered, lurching ungracefully to his feet, shoulder forgotten as a dreadful fear electrocuted his body into action. Wheeling around like Legolas had just moment before; the man gripped his sword, looking for the elf's lithe form amongst the dark ugliness of the orcs. What he saw both burned his blood and froze it at the same time.

A large orc stood heroically poised right where the elf should be standing, holding a club and sword a loft in what could only be celebration while the orcs cheered him on. Aragorn was completely forgotten which was the last mistakes these orcs would make.

Slinking forward, the ranger pulled a small danger out of his boot and made quick death of the orc closet to him. The other creatures where cheering so loudly that its single cry of surprise went unnoticed.

Forging his way through the orcs like a ghost that was then and there gone, he left only death in his wake. The brutish orc snorted loudly and yelled something in the black tongue, which only made the others shriek in piercing tones. Throwing its club aside the giant of an orc raised his sword high above his head with both hands.

Aragorn's stomach gave a forceful heave and he gave up all pretense of slyness, shoving his way through the mass of vile creatures with his sword. The orcs delight changed quickly to fear as they realized that Aragorn was among them, and making quick work of their numbers. Something about him scared them, maybe it was the dark fury in his eyes, or maybe it was the vibe that he would do anything, anything, to get to his friend.

Even the orc holding the sword let out a sharp gasp, before narrowing its small eyes and raising the sword higher with a yell of defiance. Aragorn lunged forward, skewing the orc that was in his way, his heart beating a mile a minute as fear rose up to choke him. As if slow motion the sword began to lower and Aragorn viciously began to throw the orcs out of his path.

From the crowds of orcs came the clear of view of Legolas sprawled ungracefully on the ground in an ever increasing pool of blood but Aragorn hardly noticed. All he could see was the rusted and blood stained metal of the sword that was only inches away from taking another innocent life.

Throwing himself forward, Aragorn landed on his knees and flung his sword out, deflecting the sharp piece of weaponry. It was just enough to force the pointed end deep into the mud and so close that Legolas' tunic was ripped open.

Wasting no time, Aragorn whipped his sword around and plunged it upwards and into the brute orc's stomach, angling it so that his heart was priced. It gave a screech that ended with a bubble of blood and then fell to the side, its life finally at an end.

Aragorn's fight, on the other hand, had only just started. Surging to his feet, the man sliced through an orc and took a defensive position with his feet on either side of Legolas' still body. He barred his teeth and curled his lips up into a snarl, letting the orcs know in a way that they would understand what would happen to them if they came within swinging distance of his sword.

"You will all die." He swore aloud, tightening his sweaty grip on the sword hilt.

Thus it was that with the rain still tumbling down that Aragorn fought until not a single orc remained standing. By then, the weather had began calm, and the rain tapered off as the dark clouds that had been looming over them for days began to clear. The first light of morning began to dully penetrate the dark night.

"Legolas." Aragorn murmured with a heavy tongue, biting back exhaustion as his pulled his sword from the final orc. Turning back to face the elf he felt to his knees give way and clasped to the ground next the elf, letting the weapon fall from numb fingers. "Legolas, come on. Please don't be dead. "He begged, closing his eyes with fear of the unknown.

The man's injuries throbbed painfully which made his already fatigued body feel like giving up and just going to sleep, but he couldn't do that. Legolas needed his help. Reopening his eyes, the human hesitantly reached out and touched the elf's shoulder, pushing lightly.

The prince's body rolled over so that he was flat on his back and Aragorn let out an audible gasp. Blood was everywhere, covering his face in streaks of crimson that where both dried and fresh. Legolas' hair was drenched it and the muddy ground right beneath him was saturated. Laying a hand on his friend's cheek, he let out a low sob. His skin felt like ice.

"No, please, Legolas. Don't you dare you dare die on me." He moaned, the scene before him blurring as tears magnified his grey eyes. Wiping angrily at his face, Aragorn tried to free his mind of the fog of fatigue that had clouded it over.

It wasn't hard to find where all the blood was coming from, for on the side of the elf's head was a gapping gash. It was scary looking, with deep cuts that revealed bone and even now trickled blood.

Leaning back, the human caught sight of a club, half hidden under a carcass of an orc and tugged it out with some effort, wondering if this had been the weapon that had done all the damage. It was spiked near the end and had the elf's blood all over it, making the human gag and turn away.

Throwing it aside with a look of utter disgust, he turned back to Legolas. This wound was serious, much more serious than what could be treated out here in the wild like this. Leaning forward he rested his sweaty brow against Legolas' blood covered one, his eyes slipping close. He needed to get Legolas to his father immediately if here was any hope of survival for his friend.

But he was so tired…

A short nap…just enough to give me energy to be able to help Legolas. Aragorn concluded, rubbing at his eyes that seemed to be shutting by themselves. Sluggishly leaning forward, he made one last effort to give the elf a little bit of aid and slowly bandaged the wound with fumbling fingers.

When at last he was satisfied with it, it was morning and he was beyond exhausted. Gathering up the prince's delicate body close to his chest, Aragorn lay on the ground, using his arm to support elf's head. He dropped off into an instant a deep slumber, his own wounds left uncared for and forgotten.

TBC...

Oh dear. What are they going to do now, but injured as they are. And Legolas looks like he will be of very little help, if any, which only leaves poor Aragorn to fix up this mess. :)