Wow, fine, I was wrong to say that no one reads LOTR fanfics anymore! :) I was really surprised at the response this got.
Special thanks to Calenlass Greenleaf1, Telcontar Rulz, Jaimie-Erin, Foxgurl10000, and StarLight9 for your help with the Legolas/Aragorn thing and all the corrections. And especially to Calenlass Greenleaf1 for the Elvish dictionary website! Thanks to AEM1, Angibugg, LoveWithoutLimits, Seagent Pepper, punkballet, and Damatris. I know a few people mentioned it would be fine to just put 'he said in Elvish' but I love the way the Elvish language sounds so I really wanted to write it in. Plus, Jaimie-Erin, you mentioned you didn't like cliff hangers... unfortunately I love them, so you might hate this fic! :)
Sorry for the mistakes, I knew I'd got the Uruk Hai bit wrong but I just couldn't remember what they were really called. Thanks for setting me straight. Thanks for correcting the other names I got wrong, hopefully I'll spell them all right this time around!
Also apologies if I've missed anyone out - I double checked but still, if I missed anyone, sorry and I did appreciate your review!
Okay, now on with the story!
Aragorn narrowed his eyes and pulled the arrow back as far as he could. The bow string trembled under the strain, but he refused to release it. Instead, he focused on his target. This time he would hit it. This time... he let go and the arrow span through the air, hitting the ground just before the target. Aragorn cursed loudly, and then turned at the sound of soft, musical laughter behind him. A tall Elf was moving towards him, blonde hair shimmering slightly in the sunlight. Aragorn frowned - he had not seen him in Rivendell before.
"Silence your mockery," he muttered as the Elf reached him. "I would have hit it this time if you had not put me off."
The Elf shook his head. "Of course you would have."
Aragorn turned back to face his target, pulling another arrow from the quiver at his feet. He didn't have time to argue with fools who had nothing better to do than mock others today - he only had a few more minutes before the king of Mirkwood was due to arrive. His foster father, Elrond, wanted him there to meet him. He was determind to hit the target at least once before they arrived.
"You're holding it wrong."
Aragorn lowered his bow and glared at the Elf, who had not moved. "I will decide if I am holding it wrong or not, thank you," he said, anger rushing through him.
"Temper," the Elf said, shaking his head. "Hold it up more, so that the arrow flies rather than dives."
Aragorn ignored him and held the bow just has he had before. He missed. He flushed in anger and embarassement, and the Elf moved closer to him. He picked up another arrow and held it out.
"Try it my way."
"If I do, will you leave me be?"
The Elf grinned. "If you wish it."
Aragorn took the arrow and aimed. The Elf nudged him and he lifted his bow a little.
"It is too high-"
"Trust me."
Aragorn scowled and followed the Elf's advice.
"Try now."
Aragorn looked at the target, and then let go. The arrow sang as it shot through the air and buried itself in the target. Aragorn blinked for a few moments, and then turned to the Elf.
"Luck," he muttered.
The Elf shrugged. His carefree, pleasant manner was beginning to irritate Aragorn. He put down his bow, scowling. "What is it you want, Elf?" he asked.
"I offered to come and fetch you. Your father wanted you to come and meet King Thranduil."
Aragorn groaned. "He is already here?"
The Elf nodded. Aragorn turned and made for the gates. He got there in time to see Lord Elrond leading the king towards the gardens of Rivendell. Elrond turned at his call and raised one eyebrow as if to say 'you are late' before touching the king's arm.
"Ah, here we go. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, my foster son. Aragorn, this is King Thranduil of Mirkwood. I believe you already know the prince?"
"Prince?"
It was only then that Aragorn realized that the Elf from the archery grounds had followed him. He turned, a sneaking suspicion gnawing at his stomach. The Elf smiled and stepped up to Thranduil's side.
"Son of Arathorn, this is my son, Prince Legolas," the king said. "He seemed most eager to meet you."
Aragorn opened his mouth, and then closed it. Legolas held out his hand, laughter dancing in his clear blue eyes.
"Yes," he said. "We have already met, have we not Aragorn?"
Aragorn gaped at him. Lord Elrond led Thranduil towards the gardens, frowning slightly at his foster son's lack of manners.
"Come, it has been long since we have last walked between these trees. As of the orcs, Thranduil..."
Legolas stepped back, placing his hands behind his back. "Will you join us?" he asked.
Aragorn slowly fell into step beside him and they trailed behind their fathers in silence for a few moments.
"Why did you not tell me you were the prince?" he spluttered at last. "I thought... well..."
"I wanted to meet you, not the polite, perfect man you would pretend to be before us if we met formally," Legolas replied. "I would have reacted in just the same way."
Aragorn was confused. He could not get his head around this Elf. He glanced at him, remembering his brothers' tales of the skills of the Mirkwood Elves with arrows. "I'm afraid I am still not particularly gifted with the bow," he said. "I'm sure you must have been struggling to contain your laughter."
Legolas grinned. "To tell you the truth, neither was I a few years ago. My father had to get me a personal trainer to correct me. I used to hate it because..."
"Because you feel that in battle you will make a mistake and it will cost the life of another," Aragorn finished as the Elf paused.
Legolas nodded. "Exactly. I could not bear it if my own faults caused a death of someone I knew."
Aragorn felt a strange sort of connection with the Elf and hesitated, unsure if he should pursue the subject. But finally he could not keep his words locked behind his teeth any longer.
"My father has always told me that the Mirkwood Elves are proud and brave," he said. "That they would die for one another. Is it true?"
Legolas looked at him, and something seemed to flicker in his eyes. "For my friends," he said softly, "I would give my life."
Aragorn whirled around. His eyes locked on the arrow that was hurtling towards him, and his mouth opened in a cry of shock and horror which never left his lips. Before he could make a single sound, blonde hair filled his vision and Gimli, Merry and Pippin cried out as one. It took him no time at all to realize what was happening.
"Legolas!" he gasped.
The body in front of him jerked as the arrow found its mark. Aragorn was the only one close enough to hear the soft whimper of agony that passed the Elf's lips. He automatically pulled back, one hand going to his sword once more, his eyes searching for the attacker but Gimli was already descending on the Uruk Hai, swinging his axe furiously. Aragorn turned to see Legolas falling to his knees, his hands going to the arrow that was buried in his chest. Terror rushed through him and he threw himself down to catch Legolas before he could fall to the ground and drive the arrow in deeper. Legolas gasped in pain as Aragorn pulled him onto his back. He felt warm blood against his hand and looked down to see a red stain spreading over Legolas's jerkin from somewhere on his side, seperate from the arrow.
"Legolas," he whispered. "Why did you not say you were wounded?"
Legolas tried to speak but a rasping sound emerged from his mouth and his head fell back. Panic roared through Aragorn and he pulled his friend closer to him, his heart thundering.
"No, Legolas-"
"It is... too late," Legolas breathed.
Cold fear closed over Aragorn's heart and he tightened his grip on Legolas.
"No, Legolas, no," he said desperately. "Ni sí nestad gen, avo drasto le!"
Legolas forced his eyes open and shakily focused on Aragorn. The terrifying weakness in his gaze was enough to freeze Aragorn where he knelt.
"Le vellon nín an-uir, Estel," he whispered.
Aragorn swallowed hard, wetting his lips. Have to help him. He reached out and closed one fist around the arrow, gently pulling upwards. Legolas's eyes widened and his back arched as a scream of pain left his lips.
"Baw, Estel, please!" he yelped.
Aragorn snatched his hand from the arrow as if it were red hot. He could feel himself shaking wildly.
"Agorech am man theled, Legolas?" he asked. He had to know.
Legolas blinked slowly, his body slowly going lax. "Estel," he whispered. "Gwador...nin..."
He broke off and his eyes rolled back in his head. Aragorn's stomach dropped away.
"Legolas!" he cried. "Tiro nín, gwador..."
"Aragorn?"
Aragorn's head jerked up to see Merry standing beside him, Pippin hovering at his elbow. Both hobbits were close to tears, clearly shaken by the sight of the Elf in such a terrible state.
"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked.
Aragorn's mouth set in a hard, straight line. "No," he said shortly. He looked down at Legolas's pale face and pressed one hand over his earlier wound. "No, he will not. I will save him."
He twisted and looked up to see Gimli approaching them. There was no sign of the Uruk Hai.
"Gimli!" he cried, pulling Legolas into his arms and rising swiftly to his feet. "Gimli, lend me your aid! You two fetch hot water, quickly."
He strode towards the Anduin, unnerved by the way Legolas lolled lifelessly in his arms.
"You shall not die, Legolas," he whispered. "You shall not."
Elvish words:
Ni sí nestad gen - I'm here to heal you
Le vellon nîn an-uir - forever you are my friend
Baw - don't
Avo drasto le - don't worry
Tíro nin - look at me
Agorech am man theled? - why did you do that? Gwador-nin - my brother
Okay, that's all! Please review, see you in the next chapter!
SUPRNTRAL LVR.