Here's chapter 2! The plot thickens! My classes start back tomorrow so I'm not yet sure how that will affect my writing schedule but fear not; I won't abandon this! Enjoy & Please review! You have no idea how motivating any type of comment is!

"Keep up, Eldarion!" Legolas called over his shoulder as the trio trudged up a hill.

Aragorn glanced back to find his son trying his best to catch a butterfly. It was almost difficult to spot the child as his head barely peeked over the tall grass. He huffed at his father's call and watched in disappointment as the creature flew away. Chuckling, the man paused and held out his hand as the boy wiped the hair out of his eyes and hurried to join his parents. Legolas smiled when he felt a tiny hand find its way into his own and peered down at the child.

"Are we almost there, Ada?" he asked excitedly, eyes alight with hope.

The elf stared straight ahead, squinting in a way that told Aragorn he was utilizing his superior elven sight to determine the distance between their current location and the river.

"We're very close, ion-nin," Legolas answered, "We'll reach the Anduin before sunset."

Aragorn looked up to see the sun still sitting high in the sky. It was already late in the afternoon. If they were to reach the river before sunset then they should have no more than an hour left to walk. His suspicions were confirmed as the family reached the top of the hill and paused to admire the view. Below them was a green field of clover. The grass swayed with every burst of wind, creating gentle waves in a sea of grass. Up ahead began a long stretch of lush forest, the river lying somewhere within. They had decided that they would make camp up from the bank, nestled between the waterway and the trees. The more he thought about preparing camp with his son, the more excited he became. He hadn't done this in so long, but he still knew what to do and how to do it. He was looking forward to teaching Eldarion all he knew; let him experience first-hand what life had once been like for his Papa and Ada.

He turned his gaze to Legolas to find that the other had his eyes shut. The elf smiled as a gust of wind lifted his hair off of his shoulders and he took in a long, deep breath. He looked serene, at peace. A twinge of guilt swept over the man at the sight. It was nice to see his husband out in the wilds. After all, he was a wood elf. His very essence thrived on being amongst the meadows and the trees, feeling their energy, hearing their songs. He didn't have that in Minas Tirith. Instead, he was indefinitely surrounded by stone. Legolas had never complained to Aragorn, of course he wouldn't. But, the man could tell that the elf sometimes felt out of his element in the city of men. It amounted to one more thing Legolas had sacrificed for Aragorn's love and the man regretted that he hadn't taken Legolas out on excursions like this one more often. Perhaps that was why the elf had been so adamant about taking this trip in the first place; not just for his son's sake, but for his own.

As if sensing his thoughts, Legolas opened his eyes to find the man looking at him with an expression on his face that he couldn't quite read. He smiled at him; a warm smile that eased the king's mind and lifted his spirits.

Still looking at his husband, Legolas spoke, "Eldarion? Have I ever told you how slow of a runner your Papa is?"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused, as his son hid a giggle behind his hands and looked up at his father.

"No," he answered, "You haven't!"

"I haven't?" asked Legolas, his tone playful, "Well how about I just show you!"

Before Aragorn could register what was happening, Legolas had lifted the boy onto his shoulders and took off down the hill. Laughing, the man accepted the unspoken challenge and took off after them. To be fair, Aragorn was a fit man. His ability to run fast and for long periods of time exceeded that of most men, but Legolas was no man. As an elf, he was much lighter on his feet and as swift as the wind.

"Hurry, Ada!" the boy squealed as he looked behind him, "Papa's catching up!"

The boy's shriek only drove both males all the faster. The chase exhilarated them both, allowing them to release the tension that had built up over the last few months and run away, if only for a moment, from the problems that weighed heavily on their minds. This time, Legolas looked back at his husband and flashed a mischievous grin when he noticed the man's labored breathing.

"First to the tree line wins!" he announced.

To Aragorn's surprise, and disappointment, the elf ran even faster, causing the man to lose the distance he had gained on the pair. Growling, he willed himself to pick up the pace. Before too long, he was back on the elf's heels. Seeing how close the man was behind them and how close they were to the trees in front of them, Legolas plucked his son off of his shoulder and planted him on the ground.

"Go, Eldarion!" he encouraged, "Run!"

Screeching in delight, the boy ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. When he was a mere arm's length away from the elf, Aragorn dove and caught his husband about the waist. Legolas yelped as the pair fell to the ground, the man turning so that he landed with the elf on top of him. Both dissolved into a fit of laughter as they fought to catch their breath. Up ahead, they heard their son shouting in triumph.

"I made it! I won! I won!"

Legolas shook his head fondly as he peered down at his disheveled husband. The man brought up his hand to tuck a stray hair behind the elf's ear.

"Don't ever try to run away from me, elf," he said, half teasing, half serious, "I won't let you."

"Don't worry," Legolas answered, running his fingernails across the man's stubbly jaw, "I never intend to."

Of course Aragorn never doubted his husband's loyalty, but it still lightened his heart to hear him profess it. Holding the back of his head, the man gently brought the elf down for a kiss. The kiss was short-lived, however, as their son soon pounced on his Ada's back and peeked over the elf's shoulder to look down at Aragorn.

"You came in last, Papa! Ada was right," the boy gloated, causing Legolas to smirk.

"That race was hardly fair," Aragorn defended as he rose up on his elbows, "Your Ada had a head start."

Eldarion seemed to ponder those words as the elf sat back and drew the boy in his lap before looking up at the blond and exclaiming, "He's right, Ada! You cheated!"

Legolas stared at his husband in indignation while the man laughed.

"Look what you've done, Aragorn. Turned my own son against me."

"You can't fault the boy for stating facts, melamin," the man answered as he stood and helped the elf on his feet.

"I guess this means a rematch is in order," Legolas suggested.

"Indeed," agreed the king, "We'll set up a time and date, make it official."

"I'll be the judge!" volunteered the child, raising a hand in the air and waving it enthusiastically.

"And so you shall!" Aragorn said as he picked the boy up and spun him around once, "But what do you say to our continuing our way into the wood, hm?"

As if suddenly remembering where they were, the boy gasped and squirmed to be put down. When his feet touched the earth, he sprinted towards the trees, shouting over the wind, "Come on, Papa! Come on, Ada!"

Joining hands, the couple shared an amused glance before following their son into the thicket of trees. When the pair breached the forest, they found Eldarion with his eyes closed and tiny palms pressed up against the trunk of a large tree. From its size alone, it was apparent that the tree was very old; a witness to many events in its long life. They watched as the boy suddenly opened his eyes in astonishment and gazed up along the length of the tree.

"I can hear them!" he exclaimed as he turned to his fathers.

"What do they say?" Aragorn asked, pleased that his son's elfish abilities were not hindered by his mannish blood.

"They are welcoming us," the boy answered as he wrapped his arms around the tree, "Can you hear them, Ada?"

"I can," the elf answered while looking up at the many branches that blocked the view of the sky, "They also offer their protection."

"Let us hope that we won't need it," Aragorn replied grimly before tugging on his husband's hand and leading his family deeper within the forest.

The gate to Minas Tirith was surrounded by a crowd of disturbed onlookers. Men shook their heads in disbelief, others were shouting in outrage. Women held a hand over their mouths in shock and shielded the eyes of the children. Ever since a passerby spotted the dead bodies of the two guards just under an hour ago, people flocked to the scene to see it for themselves.

"Out of the way! Move aside!"

Armored guards worked their way through the crowd, people hastily moving aside to provide a clear pathway. As they came upon the crime scene, an officer of higher rank stepped forward and knelt beside the bodies. His attention was automatically drawn to their cut throats and he bowed his head in sympathy. No longer able to bear the weight of their lifeless stares, the officer reached out a hand and closed the eyes of each of his fallen comrades. At this point, he was used to death. He fought in the War of the Ring; he'd slain many a foe and witnessed many a friend be killed. Despite his experience, it was never easy to see someone you fought beside, cared about even, be murdered. And that was exactly what had transpired here. Dyllon and Verrill had been executed and he wouldn't rest until their killers were brought to justice. Standing up, he squared his shoulders and faced his men.

"You five – stay here and guard the gate! No one is leaving this city until we get to the bottom of this. I'll need some of you to transport the bodies up to the citadel and let the Captain know what has happened here!"

The officer was still shouting out orders as Moric maneuvered his way to the back of the crowd and headed for the street corner where Hadria and their men were waiting.

"What is going on?" the woman asked as he approached, her brows furrowed in concern.

"The guards that were stationed at the gate are dead. Their throats were sliced."

Hadria cursed under her breath and ran a weary hand through her thick waves.

"We're too late!" she hissed, "We need to get out of the city now or we'll never reach them!"

"That won't be easy," Moric warned, "They're not letting anyone leave."

Hadria looked away. Her eyes darted back and forth and the man knew she was trying to figure out a way around this unexpected obstacle. Finally, she stood straight and lifted her chin haughtily.

"Then we're just going to have to improvise."

With that, she began walking towards the crowd and Moric stared after her in confusion.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing?"

She ignored his calls and kept walking. With a low growl, Moric turned to their other two companions and beckoned them to follow. Hadria shoved her way to the front of the horde. She eyed the guard who appeared to be in charge before stepping outside of the cluster of people.

"Officer!" she cried, "Officer! I know who did this!"

Moric stared at her incredulously, staying within the safety of the crowd as he watched the scene before him play out.

The officer gave her a skeptical look before approaching her.

"What did you just say?" he asked as he looked her up and down.

"I think I may know who done this," she confessed, "And I would like to offer my help."

The officer looked up to see how the nearest onlookers were watching them intently and he grabbed the woman by the upper arm and guided her just out of hearing distance.

"Tell me your name and what you think you know," he ordered.

Never once lowering her gaze, she took in a deep breath and answered the man.

"My name is Hadria," she began, "I live with my brother, Huron, at the tavern and inn that he runs just down the street. I also work as a waitress there. Last night, a group of men came in and all ordered drinks. I served their table so I caught snippets of information from their discussion. The man who did the most talking is named Rueben. He's a blacksmith, I believe. Big fellow, red hair, wears a cloak. He comes often and I…" she paused, "…I know him well. I heard him say that he caught word that the king and his family were leaving for a trip today and he meant to follow."

The officer's eyes widened at that and he stepped closer to the woman, hand catching her wrist.

"If you heard this, why didn't you say anything to the guards?" he pressed, "Your king's safety was threatened and you did nothing?"

She looked down for a moment as if ashamed before locking gazes with the officer once more.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't exactly know what was going on. I told you, I only caught snippets of the conversation. It wasn't my business to be listening in the first place! I was scared."

The officer released her after a few moments, convinced by the contrition he saw in her eyes.

"Very well," he finally said, "Thank you for telling me. Now, be on your way."

If what she said was true, then the men who murdered Dyllon and Verrill had fled the city and were potentially pursuing the king and his family. He needed to organize a scouting party to go after them and he needed to do it now. As he began walking toward another group of guards, Hadria called after him.

"Please," she said, "Let me help you."

He stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder before turning once more to face her completely.

"This is an official matter," he stated, "Commoners such as yourself are not to be involved."

He meant those words as a dismissal, but as he made to walk away again, she continued.

"There is a cottage."

Sighing, he shut his eyes and hung his head before straightening himself and approaching her a third time.

"Where is there a cottage?" he asked, uncertain as to where the woman was going with this.

"Within the forest of Ithilien," she replied, "Rueben uses it when he goes on hunting trips. I've…He's taken me there before. I can lead you to it."

The pair stared at each other; Hadria gauging the officer's reaction while he, in turn, was gauging the truth behind her words.

"Fine," he complied, "I'll organize a scouting party and you will join us. Your job will be to lead us to this so-called cottage and," he stepped closer, their faces a mere inch apart, "if you prove to be lying, I'm afraid the consequences will be very severe. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very," she answered with conviction.

"Good. Now come with me. We'll be leaving as soon as I can round up some horses."

"If I may," she interjected, "My friend Moric owns a stable," she signaled to the man who had been watching their interaction carefully and he stepped forward, nodding to the officer, "He can get us some horses rather quickly. He is also a tracker. His skills may come in use if Rueben and his men are not at the cottage."

The officer scrutinized the shabby-dressed man before him before nodding his consent.

"Lead us to your stables, Master Moric. We must make haste."

The moon hung high in the sky, its pale light twinkling along the surface of the water. The stillness of the night was disturbed by the sounds of crickets, the gentle flow of the river, and the popping and cracking of wood burning on a fire. Soon, another sound filled the air; soft and low. Legolas smiled fondly as he sat across from his husband who was currently singing an elven lullaby to the tired boy nestled in his arms.

"Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!

Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!

The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!

Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!"

With each verse, the boy's eyelids drooped lower and lower; the exhaustion from the day's activities finally catching up with him. Earlier, when the trio had arrived at the river's edge, they immediately went about setting up their camp. Eldarion "helped" his Papa pitch the tent and assisted his Ada in arranging a fire pit. Afterwards, the boy insisted on climbing the trees; an experience Legolas would forever cherish. His son proved to be a natural; leaping from limb to limb with a youthful efficiency. He had asked about the different types of trees, plucked a few leaves for safekeeping and simply sat and admired the view when they made it as high up as either parent was willing to go. When the sun had begun to disappear over the horizon, they used the remaining daylight to fish. The boy became completely drenched in the process and managed to soak his parents as well with his frantic splashing. So many memories had been made…and it was only their first day.

After the boy had fallen asleep, Aragorn continued to stroke his soft curls and gaze at his relaxed face. Whispering, so as not to wake the child, the man whispered,

"I have enjoyed today. I am glad we decided to do this. Seeing Eldarion with such joy brings joy to my own heart."

"I think you mean you are glad that I convinced you to do this," Legolas ribbed.

Aragorn smiled, "Indeed. Thank you, meleth. I must admit it brought me joy to see you so happy, as well. It has been too long since you were last among the trees."

Legolas' smile slowly fell and he stared down at his hands for a moment. The man furrowed his brows in concern, but before he could ask the elf what was troubling him, the blond stood and walked over to his spouse and child.

"I'll go collect more wood for the fire," he suggested, "You should go ahead and settle in the tent for the night."

He leaned down and offered the man a quick kiss before leaning even further and bringing his lips to his son's forehead.

"Don't be long," Aragorn said as brushed his thumb along the elf's cheek.

"I won't," the elf replied as he righted himself and with one last reassuring smile, departed into the woods.

Legolas walked far enough amongst the trees so that he could not be seen or heard, but close enough so that the faint glow of the campfire was still visible. Sighing, he brought his back up against a tree and slid down until he was sitting on the forest floor. He stared at the sparkling stars that littered the black sky and smiled. He had missed this – the feel of soil beneath his feet, bark against his palm, the light of the stars, the songs on the wind. He could have spent an eternity amongst such things, but he chose not to. He chose to forsake his immortality and lead a mortal life with the man he loved. He didn't regret his choice; it is one he would gladly make again. But after living a thousand years or so in the heart of a forest, residing in a city of stone with little warmth and fewer colors was dampening to the soul.

After a few moments of being lost in his thoughts, the elf rose and scoured the ground for twigs and branches. He had collected quite the armful of wood when he noticed how quiet his surroundings had become. No breeze blew, no cricket chirped, and tension pressed heavily upon his shoulders. He stopped his gathering and glanced around the darkened wood, eyes and ears on alert. Then, the trees bristled. His mind was assailed by an urgent message; the voices of the trees filling his ears. They all said the same thing: Danger! Danger!

In the distance he heard a snap; a sound so soft that none but an elf could have heard it. Heart racing, he jerked in the direction of the sound and peered through the trees. He stood in that position for what felt like eternity and then…he saw them. With a panicked gasp, Legolas dropped his load of wood and raced towards the camp.

"We rest here for the night!"

The officer, who Hadria had learned was named Fendrel, brought his small scouting party to a halt and began barking orders. Moric hopped off his horse and turned to help the woman down who had ridden behind him. Soon, a fire was made and bedrolls were lain out as the group of men readied for sleep. Moric plopped down on the ground next to Hadria and spoke quietly.

"After the stunt you pulled today, I certainly hope you have a plan," he said.

"I do. Assuming you've been keeping note of Rueben's tracks?"

"I have," he affirmed, "His path and ours diverged about two hours back. The last I saw they were heading northeast."

"Very well. We will retrace their steps," she announced, "As soon as we rid ourselves of this lot."

"And how will we manage to do that?"

Moric watched as the dark haired woman reached inside her satchel and began searching for something. When she appeared to have found it, she slowly revealed a small vial; one he had seen before.

"A sleeping draught?" he questioned.

She simply smirked at him in return before rising to her feet.

"Gentlemen," she said to the camp, projecting her voice just enough for all to hear, "Can I interest you in a cup of tea before bed? The night is chilled and I'm sure you are all weary from our travels."

As murmurs of agreement filled the air, Moric tried to hide his own smile as Hadria placed a kettle on the fire. With luck, all the men would be in a death-like sleep before the end of the hour and the pair can continue on with their original quest.

As Legolas entered camp, he didn't even notice Aragorn sitting up waiting for him as he grabbed a pan of water and quenched the flames.

"Legolas?"

The elf jumped at the voice, but upon realizing who it was, turned and grasped the man's forearms.

"Aragorn," the elf breathed, meeting his husband's eyes urgently, "Trouble is upon us."

The man's heart seized at those words. Trouble was the last thing he had been expecting but he could tell from the elf's palpable anxiety that it was real. He returned the grasp, trying to steady his unnerved spouse.

"What trouble?"

"A group of men lie in the woods," the elf began, "I saw them. There are about six, maybe more, they are all armed and they move in our direction. I sensed nothing but ill intention. I fear we must fight."

"No," Aragorn shook his head firmly, "We are outnumbered and with a child. We flee as quickly and quietly as we can."

"Impossible," Legolas denied, "They are already too near. They will hear us and they will catch us. If they've followed us all this way, they won't stop until they find us. We'll have to deal with them eventually. It might as well be now."

"No," Aragorn repeated, "I will not have our son near any danger! We must split. I'll stay here and fight them while you take Eldarion and run."

"Aragorn - "

"Legolas," the man broke off his husband's protest, "Listen to me. One of us has to stay with Eldarion. I will not send him running into the wilds alone as we fight a fight we may not survive. At least this way, he will be safe and be guaranteed one parent."

Legolas' heart sunk at his husband's implication. Snap. The pair turned toward the forest at the sound. The men were getting closer.

"Go! Now!"

Aragorn pushed the elf towards the tent as he lept to retrieve his sword. Biting back an objection, Legolas entered the tent and gathered up his sleeping son. He felt like crying. He belonged beside his husband. They fought best as a team, they always had. But the man was right; what of their son? He was essentially being forced to choose between his husband and his child, and though it pained him, Eldarion's safety came first. The boy stirred in the elf's arms and he opened bleary eyes to meet the worried gaze of his father.

"Ada? What's the matter?"

"Eldarion, I need you to listen. A group of men is coming our way, bad men. We need to go. You and I are fleeing south along the river and your Papa will join us later."

"What's Papa going to do?" the boy's voice shook.

Legolas couldn't find the strength to answer as he exited the tent. Aragorn approached them and cocooned the pair in a tight embrace, smothering the elf's mouth with his own.

"Amin mela lle. Both of you," he said as he kissed the top of his son's head.

"We love you too," Legolas whispered.

"Kela! Nurta!"

The man broke away and pushed the pair along. Legolas ran southward, not daring to look back. His son, however, could not resist. Looking over the elf's shoulder he cried,

"Papa!"

"Shh! Shh!" Legolas silenced him as he quickened his pace, "You will see him soon, ion-nin." I hope.

Translations:

Kela- Go

Nurta- Hide