A/N: As promised, another update!

As any of you who have reviewed (love you guys!) would know because I complained about it in review responses, FFN decided to stop emailing me anything: review alerts, story alerts, PMs, etc, so I couldn't use the review reply feature and had to PM the users and read the reviews on the actual story. Now I'm out of date with all these fics I've been reading, so if anyone knows what the hell is going on or is suffering the same fate, review me. I'm not exactly sure if it's my email or the website.

Nobody guessed the quote (hehe). It was from Avatar: The Last Airbender, and it was used when Legolas was talking about the fact that humans draw knowledge from one source and so it becomes weak. Anyone who watches the show, that was where Iroh was teaching Zuko advanced firebending. I admit I cheated a little, as it was not a DIRECT quote, it was the teensiest bit off because I hadn't seen the episode for ages, so, sorry.

Enough rambling. On with the story.

X X X X

Aragorn sat with his back against one of the trees that had, by extension, tried to kill him. He reached over and placed another log on the slowly dying fire, pulling his cloak closer to him for more warmth.

Legolas lay opposite him, still unconscious. Aragorn had carried him westward through the dense forest for about two hours before blood loss from the wound on his arm began to deplete his strength and he was forced to stop for the night.

But it would not be a restful stop, oh no. Aragorn was not stupid enough to fall asleep, not after Legolas had tried to kill him. He loved the elf like a brother, sometimes more, but he was a ranger, and was not going to forfeit his life by sleeping when a known potential threat could wake up, take a blade from him and slit his throat in under a minute. The only way he could possibly rest peacefully was if he tied Legolas up, and he simply couldn't bring himself to do that.

He had decided, in the end, to wait and see if Legolas would listen to reason once he woke up. If Aragorn ended up with no new scars at the end of the conversation, then he would allow his body to give in to the rest it so desperately craved.

He munched on a piece of lembas to distract himself from his tiredness and idly drew pictures in the dirt at his feet. Considering all that had happened, it was a miracle, but he could not deny: he was bored.

Just as he thought he might take a chance and get a couple of minutes' nap, he heard a soft groan. Legolas was waking up.

Standing up swiftly to give himself an advantage should the elf prove to be hostile once more, Aragorn quietly observed his friend, watching for any signs of sudden movement. He was taking no chances.

Legolas woke up slowly, blinking a couple of times to clear his vision. When his eyes found Aragorn, they narrowed in an accusing glare before his gaze flicked back to the small amount of sky visible through the trees.

Aragorn became slightly less suspicious as he realized that Legolas had never tried to draw a weapon, though that could simply be because he was lying on his back, where his bow, quiver and knives would usually be strapped, and it would be fairly obvious that they weren't there.

Aragorn sat down again. "So are you going to tell me what everything back there was about?" he asked. The sentence sounded a little strange to his ears. He never thought he would have to use a tone so full of contempt when talking to his best friend.

"I won't kill you, Estel," Legolas said unexpectedly. He was still lying on the dry ground, staring up at the canopy above them with an expression Aragorn couldn't at once identify. "I realize that I would only be accused of murder," Legolas continued, "and the real murderer would simply go free."

Aragorn blinked. "Explain," he said carefully.

"I know you killed them. The elves. As soon as we get back to Mirkwood and I tell my father, you'll be put to death anyway, without me being in any sort of trouble. But we won't be going back to Mirkwood, will we?"

Aragorn had listened in growing dread as Legolas talked, but that last question chilled him to the bone. He was sure Legolas was threatening him. "Why not?" he asked.

"You won't let me," Legolas said simply. "I'm not stupid, Aragorn. You took my weapons for a reason. Where do you say we are going?"

Aragorn continued to stare at the prince, who was still lying on the ground. It suddenly occurred to him that Legolas might not be staying on the ground because he was simply apathetic, perhaps he thought Aragorn would kill him, or something in the likeness. He clearly thought Estel dangerous.

Then again, Legolas had a point in one thing he had said: Thranduil would kill him if Legolas testified against him. It was only the prince that was preventing Thranduil from banning Aragorn from Mirkwood forever already. The only reason the king had asked Aragorn to accompany his son on this trip was because he had no qualms about the possibility of Aragorn getting himself killed in protection of Legolas. It was Legolas himself who had come up with that argument, and though Aragorn wanted to say it did not hurt him to see Thranduil's expression change from adamantly negative to pondering in that one line from his son, it did hurt, a lot.

So where could they go? Aragorn certainly was not going to rely on a miraculous character change in Legolas to save him. He would have to save himself from the Mirkwood king's wrath.

He looked at Legolas again. Since waking, he had not looked once away from the trees directly above them. Aragorn remembered Legolas's admission that the trees had turned him against Aragorn. These trees had something wrong with them. Aragorn did not doubt that in the slightest. He had to get Legolas out of the forest. He had to get him help. And he had to do something better for the deep cut on his arm.

"Rivendell," he muttered. He stood up and stamped out the fire. He scattered the burnt logs, just in case, and pulled his pack onto his back.

Legolas had not moved an inch. He continued to stare at the trees with a mildly grumpy expression on his face. Aragorn moved over to him.

"Come on, Legolas," he said. "We have to go."

Legolas didn't move.

Aragorn growled low in his throat. "Get up, Legolas."

No reaction.

"Am I going to have to force you?"

Still nothing.

Aragorn made the growling noise in his throat again. He reached down and pulled the elf to his feet by his arm. "Now listen, you stubborn elf," he said. "We're going to Rivendell. You're going to come with me and don't try anything. Understood?" Secretly, deep down inside, Aragorn hated himself for what he was doing to Legolas. He was proving the elf's earlier words correct: he was the bad one. Legolas was not intentionally accusing him. Aragorn understood how hard it was for the wood elf to turn his back on the trees, beings he had listened to since he was an elfling.

Legolas nodded wordlessly in answer to Aragorn's previous question. He was continuing to glare at the human, and though Aragorn never said it, that glare hurt him more than an arrow through the heart.

He gripped the elf by the upper arm and pulled him through the forest, towards the south-west. They had to get to Rivendell before the winter snows set in and blocked the path, they ran out of food, Aragorn collapsed from sleep deprivation or Legolas stabbed Aragorn in the back.

It was going to be a hard couple of weeks.

X X X X

A/N: Poor elf and ranger.

I never got an offer for someone to beta me, but if you want to, tell me so.

This was written under influence of five hours' sleep on my bedroom floor (don't ask – btw, I was NOT drunk), old Blink 182 songs and My Band by D12. I was in a tired and scatterbrained mood, so I'm sorry if this chapter either sucked or contained ramblings.

I was going to put another quote in this, but the only one I could seem to think of was either "Keep to the Code!" or "These chicks don't even know the name of my band" because of my scatterbrainédness, so, stuff it.

Please review! I want to hear what you think.