A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing!

Chapter Three

The cold made Aragorn shiver, but Legolas and the twins were perfectly content in their simple cloaks. Aragorn glared at them, shrugging his cloak over his heavy coat.

"You three don't have to look so pleased with yourself!" he insisted.

Only Legolas wasn't pleased. In pain, yes. Intrigued at these strange dreams, yes. Confused, most definitely.

Planting himself on a snow-dusted rock, Legolas refused to move. The wind was gusting ferociously and they appeared to be on high up in a mountain. Legolas had no clue which mountain, but that wasn't abnormal anymore. It didn't matter if he was in mountain or meadow, hill or house, desert or plain—it was never somewhere he could fully recognize.

"So, let me guess," he snapped, folding his arms tightly against his chest. "You are about to lead me to my heart's desire…?" He rolled his eyes, snorting at as the twins and Aragorn shared surprised looks.

"But Legolas, we do have something amazing to show you. Something that will make you happier than you have ever been," Elladan explained, watching with a slight smile as Aragorn hopped up and down on the tips of his toes, blowing air onto his cold hands.

"I'm good thanks." Legolas glowered at him. Turning his back on the others he brushed the snow from the rock. Underneath the white powder was simple design etched into the rock; a butterfly resting atop a flower. If he tilted his head to the side, it looked rather orange and purple.

Slapping the rock, he swore. He was growing to had the orange butterfly atop the purple flower. Occasionally, he would have flashes of a memory of standing in front of that butterfly and flower in Mirkwood, but they made little sense to him.

"I'm not going," he repeated vehemently as Aragorn laid a hand on his shoulder, looking concerned. The man eyes were thoughtful and dark, but something about them wasn't—Estel. It was the same with the twins.

The man's touch aggravated the ever-present pain in his shoulder and Legolas shrugged free of his grip.

Without a looking back, Legolas strode off down the steep mountainside.

A pounding headache had started behind his eyes but Legolas struggled forward. His body was too heavy to be buoyed up by the snow and he found himself swimming in it, trying to press forward. He had to escape this dreamland, he just didn't know how.

"That looks difficult."

Jumping, Legolas turned to find the twins and Aragorn staring over at him.

"Bedi-na fatanyu!" he snapped, but even as he turned his back they appeared, right next to him.

"Ah, Legolas. That's no way to talk to your friends," Elladan protested, clucking his tongue in disappointment.

"Makes us wonder why we invited you here to see something so beautiful. Maybe you don't deserve to," Elrohir chimed in, examining his fingernails carefully.

"Maybe you would prefer to be out fighting for your life in Mirkwood." Aragorn shrugged.

Legolas swore again, turning the other direction and starting off the path. Immediately, he found himself in deep snow. Growling, he covered his face with his hands. His headache was growing worse by the second and his knees felt weak. The snow was a brilliant white and it hurt to look at it.

"I—just—want—to—leave—these—stupid—dreams—behind!" Legolas ground out each word, balling up his hand and pressing it against his eyes. He was so sick of them, yet they never ended and he was no longer sure what was real and what was not. Maybe nothing was.

The sons of Elrond did not appear to have anything to add to this as they stared dumbly at him.

Abruptly the white snow slide out of focus and blackness replaced it. A blackness that was filled with a stench that made Legolas gag. The pain that his body was experiencing flared to a new level, leaving him gasping for air.

He blinked again and the white snow was back.

"What—" he glanced around him, looking at his friends. They had frozen in their last position but before he could move to touch them everything when dark and the odor was back. His chest burned and he struggled to draw in a breath. He couldn't move his limbs and the panic coursing through his veins wasn't helping.

A low hiss came from the corner but he could not turn his head. Something was sliding over the ground towards him Legolas held his breath, begging his body to move. A rasping breath was pulled in right next to his ear followed by a soft scream, or maybe it was laughter. All he knew was that the next moment shattering pain had pierced his world and he went tumbling back into whatever depths he had come from.

He did not doubt that he would awake in another dream. There was no way out of this eternal hell.

NOWAYOUT

It took Aragorn the better part of the night to retrace his frantic flight and by the time he found the small clearing, it was nearing dawn. Alton's horse greeted him with a nervous nicker as he entered the clearing.

"What are you still doing here?" Aragorn asked as he edged closer to the frightened animal. He dug out a slightly mushy apple from the bottom of his bag, allowing her to chomp down on it before he moved to untie her halter. He couldn't help but think that there were very few reasons that she was still here. Either Alton had been devoured by the creature in place of Aragorn, or he was still down there.

Once the horse was appeased, Aragorn crept towards the edge of the cave with his sword in hand. He refused to actually enter, that would have to wait for the brilliant light of morning when dark things fled for cover.

He could not hear anything and moved back, shivering in the early morning air. Securing his own horse in the woods not far from the clearing, he spent the rest of the night in a tree that overlooked the cave. If anything was to leave or enter, he was going to know about it.

Morning came and went and Aragorn was on the verge believing that Alton had been consumed when the man staggered out of the cave. His face was whiter than fresh snow and he had to lean upon his horse for several moments.

Aragorn raised himself up onto his knees, one hand clinging tightly to the branches.

Alton untied the halter before swinging sluggishly up and turning his horse towards the forest. Aragorn straightened, waiting.

As Alton passed beneath him Aragorn flung himself out of the tree. Alton barely had time to glance up before Aragon slammed into the assassin. His momentum tipped both of them over the horse and they hit the ground with a hard crack. Alton cried out as he took the brunt of the weight and Aragorn reared back. Slamming his fist hard against Alton's jaw, he watched with satisfaction as the man let out a soft sign and went limp.

Panting, Aragorn watched Alton for a moment to assure himself that the man really was unconscious and then staggered upright. Rubbing at his shoulder where it had hit the ground, he jumped in surprise as Alton's horse dug her nose into his back. Reaching behind him, he lightly patted her nose.

"Your hose isn't even taking your side, and that is just pathetic," Aragorn muttered under his breath to the unconscious man. Gingerly rolling Alton over a few feet, he tied him securely to the base of a tree.

Then, he waited.

It wasn't long until a soft groan filled the clearing and Aragorn moved in. Grabbing Alton by the hair of his head, he shoved a small knife under the assassin's chin.

"What was that thing?" he growled as Alton's eyes blinked open. The man frowned in confusion as his eyes tracked over Aragorn's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes and they widened as he felt the bite of steel against his throat.

"I—I don't know what you are talking about," he squeaked out.

Aragorn snorted, applying pressure to the knife. Alton's closed his eyes, hardly daring to breathe. "Try again. What was that monster?"

Alton blinked and took a deep breath. "I can't tell you," he insisted in a calmer voice, through his eyes were still glittering with fear.

Aragorn pulled back his lip in a snarl. "You seemed pretty comfortable and cozy down there. Why do you choose to associate with such evil?"

Alton closed his eyes and didn't reply for several seconds. Aragorn was ready to bark out another command when he spoke. "Why don't I ask some of my own questions? Why do you want the elf-lord, Elrond, dead?"

"I don't think that you are in much of a position to be asking questions right now." Aragorn thrust his face into Alton's, increasing pressure on his knife. Alton blinked rapidly and Aragorn gave a tight-lipped smile. "Now, what as that creature?"

"I'm not answering," Alton turned his face away and clenched his hands together.

"I'm asking nicely right now but it doesn't have to remain that way. How about you answer the question?" Aragorn's knife dug into the soft flesh of Alton's throat and a drop of blood rolled down the pale skin. Alton watched Aragorn, trying to conceal the fear that was making his eyes wide.

"You were a friend to that prince."

The statement took Aragon by surprise and he drew back. "What makes you say that?" he asked evenly.

"You have to ask?" Alton laughed. "Do yourself a favor and don't try to con a con-artist! You should have seen your face when I was telling you how I killed him. You were about to cry, weren't you, you poor little soul," he threw his lip out into a pout before spitting into the dirt. "Besides, no one looking like the likes of you would have had the amount of money that you promised. So either you didn't have the full amount and were going to run off after my foul dead was done, or you had to have something else up your sleeve. Oh, and let's not forget all those questions about the prince. I saw your true side a mile away!"

"That still doesn't tell me what kind of monster that was," Aragorn said stiffly.

"What if I told you about how the prince begged for his life? Shall I tell you about that?"

It was Aragorn's turn to laugh. "Now who is lying? Don't try to sell me lies about someone I know better than I know my own mother. But now since we are on the topic of how you killed him, did you take him to that creature?"

Alton's lip curled up and he lashed out. "He was alone when I made my move. The village boy had run on ahead, but the prince had been distracted. He was looking at something and all it took (as you said yourself) was one well-aimed arrow that was laced in poison that put made him comatose almost instantly. I, personally, thought it would be a lot harder to catch him. Ha, so much for the fabled attentiveness of elves! I mean, I could have—"

Aragorn tightened his grip in the man's hair, yanking his head back and cutting him off. "Did you, or did you not, take him into that cave?" His voice caught on the last word and Alton's lip twitched upwards. Leaning forward, it was his turn to look Aragorn dead in the eye.

"Yes."

Aragorn took a shuddering breath, looking away for a moment as he regained his composure. When his eyes met Alton's brown eyes they were rock hard. "Is that what you do with all of your victims?"

Alton shrugged and Aragorn jerked his head back, the knife back at his throat. "We will take that as a yes, then. Why? Why in the name of the Valar would you bring them to such a creature? Do you have some sort of deal with It?"

Alton studied Aragorn. "Could I have something to eat? I'm starving."

Aragorn resisted the urge to crack Alton's head against the tree. "Maybe if you tell me what that creature was and why you take your victims there." Something dawned on Aragorn and he leaned in closer. "It's a sacrifice. You make a sacrifice to It and in return, It gives you what?" He paused, thinking. "Money? No, you pick that up on the side with the whole assassin thing. Fame?" Standing, he began to twirl the knife as he paced, thinking. "No, not that. Good looks? No, no. that's not it either. Long life?" Snapping his fingers with triumph he turned back to Alton. "That's it! A life for a life, it all makes sense!"

Alton deflated, staring mutely at the ground. Aragorn crouched down next to him and tilted his knife under his chin. Alton averted his gaze before answering. "It grants me one year of additional life for every living soul that I bring to it," he said hollowly.

"Have you ever collected on these years?" Aragorn asked softly, rocking back on his heels and tucking a fist under his chin as he studied the man with new eyes.

Alton snorted. "I'm far older than I look, boy!" he paused, his face grey and a shudder tore through his body. "It's never pretty, but I'm needed alive so that I can bring It needs live souls to feed off of." He stopped turning a dark glare on Aragorn. "After you fled last night, It almost took me down to its cavern."

Aragorn shrugged. "Did you bring Legolas here?"

"Oh, so you were on first name terms with the prince?" Alton smiled wickedly. "Let me take you down there, I'm sure that It would be willing to accommodate you and lead you to your precious prince. It only requires a new soul every few months so he might still be alive. That way you could hold his hand as he dies!" The words were sarcastic and Alton rolled his eyes, muttering something else under his breath.

Aragorn had stopped listening as his eyes were drawn back to the entrance of the cave and he slowly rose to his feet.

"Wait? You're not seriously thinking of going back in there? It's a death wish, but be my guest." Alton tugged at the bonds that held him firmly against the tree, frowning. "Untie me first, though."

"Not likely." Aragorn was moving swiftly as he let out a long whistle before emptying the contents of his pack on the ground. Shoving his belongings into two piles, he added only the most essential things back into his pack. "Besides, unlike you, I value life. I can't rest knowing that there was a chance that I could have saved him. I'm going back in there."

He didn't take time to allow the fear from last night to sink in and simply turned to his mare, who had come at his whistle. Untying a second pack from the saddled, he rifled through it until he pulled out a bundle. Shoving that into his first pack, turned to face Alton.

"And unlike you, I value friendship and do not cower away in the corners, living a long but unfulfilling life. I asked Legolas once if he trusted me with his life. He said yes and I'm going in there because I fear to break that promise more than I do the shadow." Gathering the rest of his belongings up off of the forest floor, he shoved them haphazardly into the second pack and retried it to the saddle.

Alton shifted, sneering at Aragorn. "At least untie me before you doom yourself! I'll die for you will not return."

Aragorn paused in his frantic rush. He knew that there was a real possibility that he was not going to walk back out of that hell-hole. Pausing, he thought for a long moment. Sighing, he turned back to the assassin and heaved him to his feet, dragging him back towards his mare.

"I can't just let you go, you have to understand that, but I wasn't lying when I said that I valued life," Aragorn explained as Alton struggled against him. "This is an elven horse, and she understands more than you would give her credit for so here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell her to wait till morning. If I have not returned by then, she will escort you back to town. Don't worry, I'll write a note and explain everything. I'll even be so kind as to tell them to put you into Thranduil's care. I do not doubt that the master of Laketown will be willing to offer you in exchange for the boy."

Alton's face lost all its color and he swayed alarmingly as Aragorn scribbled out said note and attached it with a simple clasp to the front of Alton's shirt. Hoisting the man up onto the horse Aragorn settled him there before tying him firmly to the saddle horn. Securing the assassin's hands behind his back, he ensured that they were bound tight.

Stepping back he admired his handy work. "Don't fall off," he recommended.

"This is a horse! It isn't going to take me anywhere in the morning. It's a horse and you are insane!" Alton raged with a touch of fear as Aragorn freed Alton's horse and tied its lead rope his mare. Snagging his pack off the ground, he strapped it across his shoulders and, with an unlit torch in one hand, turned towards the entrance of the cave.

Marching forward, Aragorn ignored the way that his palms were starting to sweat. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it and a wave of fear washed over him. This was a suicide mission, but if Legolas was alive...

The cave mouth gapped open, ready to accept him. The early afternoon sunlight beat down onto his back and Aragorn soaked it in as he breathed in the fresh air. Alton was shouting a string of profanities at him, but he paid it no mind.

Legolas is probably throwing the most dramatic temper tantrum about not being able to see the sun or trees. The thought of Legolas telling off his captor brought a smile to Aragorn face. Not waiting a moment more, he plunged into the entrance.

TBC...

Well, Aragorn is on his way! I promise that all that wonderful angst/hc (and everything else that goes with it) is coming in the next few chapters. :) :)

Feel free to drop a review off on the way out! Thanks again to everyone who is reading this.