A/N: Gee, is it friday already? Really? Was it not only monday yesterday? Uhm...I need sleep. Anyway, I said I post end of the week, so here you are. Enjoy! Imaginigma :o)

Elvish transaltions:

Daro: stop (that)


"Yesterday is but a dream, tomorrow but a vision. But today well lived makes everyday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope."

(Proverb)


Chapter 27: Silence is golden

Gandalf had a hard time holding his temper in check. This man, he was…he was….pathetic! Aye, that was the word that described the potion maker best at the moment. How could that man…how dared he! And all for money!

Humans! Sometimes not even Gandalf understood why exactly IluvatatValar had seen fit to create them with their songs and thoughts. They were nothing but trouble. Work, worry and trouble!

Resisting the urge to pull at his own beard in frustration, Gandalf focused his thoughts on the problem at hand. After a lot of coaxing and even a healthy amount of threatening, Gandalf had made the man tell him everything he wanted to know.

Simply everything.

His fears that the twins had been poisoned had been confirmed, although he had been deeply frightened and worried that the poison had not been meant for elves,…but for Aragorn. The potion maker had told him the man who had ordered the poison had asked about elves, but he had been satisfied to hear that it would not affect them. And that left only one possibility open. Whoever had bought the poison had intended to poison Aragorn. It was the only possibility.

The question about the "who" had been pushed tostuffed the back of Gandalf's mind as he listened with growing sickness just what this venom was going to do to his friends. So much hurt, so much pain.

How could they live through this? With every word the potion maker relayed to him, his hope of finding his friends alive diminished. No one could survive a poisoning like this, not even the heir of Isildur himself.

And all because of revenge, revenge and money!

Taking a deep breath, Gandalf pierced the old potion maker with an intense stare. There was no point in pretending to be an old man anymore. He was angry and worried, and he would get the answers he sought.

"Is there an antidote?"

The potion maker nodded quickly, but then he shook his head at the same time.

Growling angryly, Gandalf rose to his impressive height, dwarfing the man who stood before him, "Aye or nay?" His booming voice made even the large, black spider scurry across the table and hide in a large crack.

"There…there is an antidote, b-but I gave it t-to the man who p-paid for the p-poison."

"But surely you can make some more?"

Sweat was running down the potion maker's face and he liftedrose a shaky hand to wipe it away. He swallowed nervously. "N-nay. I do not have the right ingr-ingredients."

"What do you need?"

--oOo--

The minutes ticked by, and the three elves knew that they had to make a decision. Imladris was not that far away anymore, if they hurried on, they would reach the Last Homely House by dusk the next day.

Speaking softly, so as not to wake the slumbering Aragorn, Legolas suggested half-heartedly, "One of us could take a horse and ride for help."

But the moment he had spoken, he knew the twins would not agree. Elladan shook his head and replied as softly, "Nay. It would slow the other three too much, as we cannot share a horse with three."

Elrohir asked quietly, "And what if the one who rides for help needs help himself? What if the poison attacks again?"

"I am not poisoned, I can go." As reluctant as Legolas was to leave his friends, if someone had to go, it should be him. But the twins shook their heads.

"No, Legolas. You are the only one of us who's not threatened by the poison and can keep a cool head." After a pause, Elladan added, "Well, most times, that is."

Ignoring Elladan's remark about his prior inability to not harm Dagnir, Legolas gestured towards Aragorn, "But he needs help. If the fever rises, even your father will be hard pressed to help him."

When Elrohir opened his mouth to protest, Legolas added heatedly, albeit in a whisper, "And don't tell me you have not seen the pain on his face. Or that his whole body jerked with every unsteady step the horse did."

The twins took deep breaths and then changed a quick look that made Legolas even more furious. Why had he the feeling that the twins were keeping something from him? Or that they treated him like an outsider?

Just when he was about to say something concerning his feelings, Elrohir nodded in Aragorn's direction. "We understand your concern, Legolas, but you have to understand that neither Dan nor I will leave Estel's side. And we think you should not go alone either, for you are injured yourself. What if something happens to you?"

"Nothing will happen, Ro. We are close to your home. There are no orcs or wargs in these woods, and neither are there giant spiders or trolls or other foul beasts."

Giving Legolas a long look, Elrohir asked softly, "And what if something happens to Estel while you are gone? What if he…" His voice broke, and he took a moment to compose himself. "What if the poison attacks, leaving Dan and me helpless? What about Estel?"

This hit a very vulnerable spot, and for a moment Legolas simply gazed at the twins, unable to say anything. In his haste to get help, he had not thought about that possibility. Nodding slowly, he said softly, "Aye, now I see your point."

For a few moments neither of them said anything while they watched the slumbering form of Aragorn. Even from where they stood, they could see the dark circles under his eyes, and the pale skin was contrasting starkly against the dark hair.

A cold gust of wind made their cloaks billow, and Elrohir sighed heavily. "I think we should wake him and ride on. The sooner we get home the better. If the weather holds, we should be able to cover some more leagues before dusk."

"Will it not hurt him further?" Legolas asked tentatively. A grimace flittered over Elrohir's face. "I fear so, but waiting here will not help him either."

And with that, he crossed over towards Aragorn, gently shook his uninjured shoulder, and when the man blinked up at him with glassy eyes, Elrohir explained to him that they would move on.

Aragorn nodded sleepily, trying to give his brother a reassuring smile, but he felt too drained to do so. He simply sighed as deeply as his broken ribs allowed him and then tried to push himself off the ground. His arms gave way almost instantly, and even before Elrohir could intervene, he fell back to the hard ground, groaning in pain.

"Estel?" Fear swung in the voice.

"'m all right," Aragorn mumbled, but his head felt so dizzy and his arms so shaky that he was not sure if he had spoken out loud at all. Opening eyes he had not realized closing, he gazed up at the blurry form of his brother, blinking to get the shapes into focus.

When the shape looming above him sharpened for a short moment only to then frizzle at the edges and become blurry once more, he placed a hand over his eyes, blocking out the light. Dimly he was aware that Elrohir called his name, but there was suddenly such a ringing in his ears that his brother's voice sounded muffled.

Taking a deep breath, Aragorn moved his hand away, squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, blinking in rapid succession. The worried face of his brother loomed over him for a second or two, but then the blurriness returned full force, making him sick to the stomach.

Moaning softly, he rolled to his side, trying to will the sickness away. For a long moment he breathed with the strange feeling in his stomach, trying to think of something else than his current predicament. It worked…for the moment.

When Elrohir placed his hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, worried that maybe the poison had attacked him again, his stomach made a very painful somersault, only to then slam back. Gasping at the sickness and pain, Aragorn curled into a tight ball, hoping to fight the sickness before he would give in.

Seeing his brother in pain and obviously sick, Elrohir turned to his older brother and Legolas, "We need to do something. Legolas, start a fire."

"Ro…" Elladan began hesitatingly. Seeing his brother in pain made his heart thud wildly in his chest, but he knew they needed to reach Imladris as soon as possible. If not sooner.

"No, Dan, he needs help now. We will ride through the night if need be. But right now, I want Legolas to get a fire going, and you go and try to find some hawthorn. It might help his stomach and his fever."

Giving his brother a stern look for good measure, Elrohir watched for a second as Elladan rushed into the forest, and Legolas already knelt a few yards away, kindling a fire. Nodding in satisfaction, Elrohir focused his attention on his sick brother once more.

With worry he saw and heard that Aragorn's breathing was way too quick. The air hissed through his teeth, and his chest heaved with the effort to breathe in enough air and at the same moment battle the pain that he undoubtedly felt every time his broken ribs poked against his skin.

"Estel? Brother, calm down. What is it, is it the poison?"

A weak shake of the dark hair was the only answer he got, and when Aragorn continued gulping down air and starting to tremble slightly, Elrohir felt tears prick at his eyes. Days, no weeks, of continued strain, worry and helplessness tried to break through, and he took a deep steadying breath to calm his nerves.

Now was not the time to break. His brother needed him! Swallowing thickly and finding his emotions tether at the edge of breakdown, Elrohir took another deep breath. Then another and another, and when he felt the painful hot prick behind his eyes decrease, he snuffledand sighed deeply. No, now was not the time to break down; later, when they were at home and all was well again, then he could give in to his emotions. Not sooner. Right now, Estel needed his help.

Beginning to rub Aragorn's back in soothing circles, just as he had done when he had been a small boy, frightened by nightmares that the would not tell about, Elrohir murmured soothingly, "Shh, Estel, all will be well. Try to breathe calmly. One after the other."

He could tell that his brother tried to do as he told him, but seemed unable to do so. A shudder raced down Aragorn's spine, so strong that Elrohir could feel it even through the clothing and the blanket.

"Estel, please, how can I help you?"

"Can't." Aragorn's voice was barely above a whisper, and Elrohir knew that it had cost his brother much to say the single word. Pain laced the exclamation as well as barely controlled emotion.

Taking another deep breath, Elrohir removed his hand from his brother's back, not sure whether he was making things worse or not. But Aragorn's soft voice reached his ears only moments later. "Don't stop. It helps."

Giving his brother a small sad smile, Elrohir settled down more closely and resumed his rhythmic and steady circles, glad that he could at least help his aching brother a little bit. Even if he did not know what was going on and why Aragorn's condition had deteriorated so quickly.

For that matter, Aragorn did not know what was going on himself, but he had a good idea. He felt the fever that had prowled at the edges of his consciousness finally leap forwards, attacking his already weak body. His kidneys seemed to have swelled to the size of rocks, making his entire lower back hurt.

Luckily, the dizziness that had been caused by his fever and that made his stomach sick had receded a bit, and already the sickness decreased. As long as he lay still and did not move, he would not trigger his stomach again. But, that did not help the pain that engulfed him anew. His attempt to stop the pain in his stomach that had made him curl into a ball had made him forget his numerous other injuries.

His shoulder hurt terribly, followed by his ribs, but that was not his main concern at the moment. No, where his shoulder hurt, his knee was in agony. It hurt so much that it stole his breath right out of his lungs.

Valar, he never knew how much one single body part could hurt! The warmth of Elrohir's hand and the familiar soothing movements helped his mind to relax somewhat, and he was glad for the contact. Without it, he was not sure if he would not have succumbed completely to the pain.

Aye, he thought with sudden clarity, his brothers and Legolas were the only reason he was fighting the pain at all. Had they not been there, he knew he would have given in to the pain and the nightmares long before now.

Oh, he would have fought, but not that long or that strong willed. He did not want his brothers and friend to see him suffer. No, he was strong, was he not? He was a ranger of the North, a son of Kings! Oh no, he would not give in, not if it meant letting his family see him lose the fight.

Gritting his teeth, Aragorn forced the pain back, fighting against wave after wave of shuddering agony. He did not know how long he lay on the cold ground, the breath hissing through his teeth in an attempt to handle the pain.

But after a while, he felt his fingertips tingle slightly, then stronger and stronger. Strange, he had not given the prickly feeling any thought before, and even now he did not really register the feeling. Then, his yaw began to tingle as well, then his lips and tongue.

What was going on here? It was the same feeling he knew from when he had fallen asleep in an awkward position and his arm or leg had fallen asleep. What was happening with him? Confused and even a bit scared, he opened his eyes and blinked against the blurry images.

The colours danced before his eyes, making his head spin, but he fought the urge to close his eyes once more. Swallowing and feeling his tongue go numb, he tried to get his brother's attention, "Lo?"

"Estel?" Concern swung in Elrohir's voice. Elrohir knew immediately that something was not right when he heard his brother try to say his name but fail. Leaning over without stopping his soothing circles, he glanced at Aragorn's face and had to suppress a gasp when he saw the paleness of the face.

Valar, even the lips were so pale!

Elrohir saw his brother swallow and then turn his grey eyes onto him. Aragorn's eyes were not able to hide his pain and…fear. Feeling his own heart jump into his throat and then resume beating wildly right against his Adam's-apple, Elrohir placed his other hand gently on his brother's cheek.

/He is hot, the fever is stronger than I thought. Dan, hurry./

"Estel? What is it?"

"Lo, …tingles…numb." Scared eyes turned on Elrohir.

"What is numb, Estel? Tell me." Elrohir really tried to steady his voice so that his own fear would not show through, but he knew he had failed miserably, the moment Legolas crouched down next to them, glancing worriedly at them both.

Aragorn gave his friend a quick look before he answered, "Hands, lips 'n tongue."

"Your tongue?" Now the near panic was clearly discernible in Elrohir's voice, and when he saw Aragorn's eyes widen, he quickly stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers.

"No, do not worry Estel. Do not become agitated, stay calm. Do you hear me, relax."

Elrohir let his eyes roam around the forest for a moment, hoping to see Elladan return, but when he neither saw nor heard his brother, he looked back at the still wheezing Aragorn. And then it hit him. Aragorn was breathing far too quickly and irregularly!

"Estel, listen. This is no new malice. It is your own body that fights you. Your breathing is too quick, and so you overload your body with air. That makes your hands tingle and your tongue numb. Do you understand? Calm your breathing, Estel."

Aragorn tried to take a deep breath, but he failed miserably as the sudden lack of air caused him to cough and then suck in the air hungrily.

"Shh, try again, Estel."

Once more, Aragorn forced his overworking lungs to breathe in deeply, and the sharp pain that erupted in his side told him that he had breathed in deeply enough to trigger his broken ribs. He winced, but then released the air he had been holding as slowly as he could. It was rather a shuddering breath, but it served its purpose.

Again and again he fought the urge to breathe in quickly and shallow, and after a few minutes his lungs had once more fallen into a regular pattern. The tingling in his hands and lips left, and a few moments later his tongue lost the numb feeling. Aragorn closed his eyes tiredly, feeling Legolas stroke some wayward hair from his forehead.

"Estel, is it better now?"

"Mh hm." It was all he managed to say before he fell into an exhausted sleep, leaving Legolas and Elrohir to look down on him with new fear and worry in their hearts.

--oOo--

Morgwath could not believe his luck. Already he had given up all hope over ever catching up with the elves and the ranger and that maggot Dagnir, seeing they had horses and he had not. Yes, he had been able to take back some of his provisions and even his dagger from his horse's saddle bags when he had been in the camp, but that did not help him moving faster, did it?

And then this glorious afternoon, the Valar had sent him a great present! Or some other force had, he did not really care. He had just stepped around a thicket of thorns, cursing under his breath, when the soft snort of a horse reached his ears.

And there, right before him, munching happily on some rather yellow grass, had been Hador's horse. And now, he was making good ground, speeding through the woods in the direction of the elven refuge. Oh, he would get his chance of killing Dagnir now!

He did not care why the horse had been alone in the forest, or why there had been no sign of the elves or the other horses. No, all that mattered now was that he caught up to the group he was trailing before they reached Rivendell.

Pressing his thighs into the horse's sides, he urged the animal to more speed. He had no time to tarry.

--oOo--

Night settled over the forest, but the heavy grey clouds barred the moonlight from reaching the ground, and so the shadows grew larger and darker until the whole forest was so dark that even the elves had problems distinguishing bush from boulder.

Elladan stirred the hawthorn tea they had made, careful to keep the substance in motion. This tea was wont to dry out and become a sticky, undrinkable paste. Sighing softly, he glanced towards his twin, who sat across from the small fire.

Elrohir looked as tired as he felt. Dark circles showed under his eyes, his hair was dull and dishevelled, the clothing torn and dirty. As if sensing Elladan's look, Elrohir lifted his head and gave him a weak smile and then shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "It is as it is". Nodding tiredly, Elladan resumed stirring the tea.

Aragorn's body was fighting the fever on its own, as he had yet to wake up. Elrohir had told Elladan all that had transpired while he had been away, and Elladan had been scared to hear that Aragorn had been so upset and tired that he had not even noticed his body's behaviour.

Oh, Elladan wished nothing more than to go home. For the first time in centuries, he really, desperately wanted his father to take over his responsibilities; he was so tired of worrying, of being afraid. He wanted…aye, to go home and crawl under his soft blankets and forget the cruelties of the outside world.

But, alas, he was grown up and of course that would not be possible. And furthermore, his brothers and friend needed him. Not to mention that he was poisoned himself and could die any moment. The thought only served to make his gloomy mood even darker, and he stirred the tea so forcefully that some of it spilled onto the ground.

Suddenly, a warm hand took the spoon out of his hand and when he looked up, he saw Elrohir smile at him weakly. "He will be well, Dan. And we will be well. You'll see, once we are home, ada will already have the antidote. More likely than not, we are worrying for nothing."

And Elladan nodded and smiled in return, but in his heart he did not believe his brother's words. No, it could not be that easy. Maybe Elrohir was the more emotional one of the two and had inherited their father's gift of foresight more strongly, but in this one moment, Elladan felt the darkness rising around and inside himself, and he knew that things would turn worse, before they got better.

And not even their father would be able to change that, he thought darkly.

Legolas shifted uncomfortably, but no matter what he did, his shoulder hurt fiercely. It pounded rhythmically with his heartbeat, and the skin felt hot to the touch. Sighing wearily, he used his good arm to tug some wayward strands of blond hair behind his ear and then adjusted the sling that held his arm in position.

Not only did his shoulder ache, but his arm itched. Perhaps it was because Elrohir had not used a bandage to help him, but some torn strips of dirty cloak. Whatever it had caused, his arm felt as if hundreds of tiny ants were scurrying up and down, their feet prickling his skin. Legolas had scratched the arm, lightly pounded on it, moved it, massaged it, even blown on it to cool it….with no effect whatsoever.

Well, he had made his arm hurt even more and garnered some curious looks from the twins, but other than that, nothing. Sighing in frustration now, Legolas settled back against a log, only to grimace in pain as a dry branch poked him in the back.

Leaning forwards again, he chanted under his breath, for the first time in his life loath to be in a forest. Oh, what he would give to be in Imladris already.

Suddenly, a soft chuckle reached his ears, and then the tired, but amused voice of Aragorn made him blush, "Oh, that I am granted to hear that. A Wood-elf who wants to exchange trees for feather pillows."

Determined to ignore the comment, Legolas bent towards his friend. "Aragorn, you are awake."

"Apparently."

"How do you feel, mellon nin?"

A sigh left Aragorn lips. "Hot. But I guess relatively well besides that."

"Good, that is good news." Legolas lifted his head to call out to the twins, but they already came closer, Elladan carrying the cup of hawthorn tea. They crouched down and while Elladan made Aragorn drink the tea, Elrohir felt his forehead and took a look at the bandages.

"No more bleeding, Estel, that is good."

Aragorn sighed deeply and his eyes closed. "No, Estel, stay awake. Come now." Elrohir patted his brother's cheek, and Aragorn tried to catch his brother's hand; he sounded tired and annoyed, "'m awake, Ro. 'm awake."

"Then open your eyes, Estel, if you are awake," Elrohir said gently.

For a moment nothing happened, but then Aragorn blinked his eyes open. When his eyes stayed open, Elrohir took his hands away and got to his feet. "I think it best if we leave now."

"In this darkness?" Legolas was not sure if he wanted to leave. It was not only dim, it was truly dark, and he feared for their horses.

"Aye, we need to reach home as quickly as possible." Elrohir gave Aragorn a quick glance, and Legolas understood the unspoken fear that Elrohir felt. They needed to leave now if Aragorn was to have any chance of surviving his injuries and the poison.

Legolas nodded. "Good. You prepare the horses and camp, I'll help Estel."

The twins nodded, and so they set to work. The fire was extinguished, the bedrolls packed away, the weapons adjusted on the backs, Dagnir was hoisted on his steed, and soon Elrohir was sitting behind Legolas, and Elladan was holding Aragorn in front of him on the horse.

Without a backwards glance, they left the campsite and set out into the night.

The horses moved gently, albeit slowly through the woods, their hooves almost silent on the needle carpet that littered the ground. With ease the steeds circled fallen trees and ragged rocks; they walked through high bushes and crossed a gurgling brook that was nearly frozen over.

Tired and feeling rather hot, Aragorn leaned back against Elladan's broad chest, and although his brother murmured in his ear to stay awake and shook him ever so gently, he could not help but fall into a slight slumber.

He was neither asleep nor awake; it was rather a state of drowsy slumber, and for a fleeting moment Aragorn asked himself if that was how the elves felt when they were asleep. Somewhere in his mind he knew that he was riding on a horse through a dark forest, that he was injured and ill and poisoned, that he needed to stay awake and that he was not alone; but all these facts did not really register in his mind. No, in his mind, he dreamed.

Aragorn felt himself being swept away on a cold wind, up and up and away from his companions, across the lands and maybe even time itself. Suddenly, he found himself near a white cliff wall that rose and rose high into the sky right beside him.

The sun glinted off the stone and painted the cliff walls a vivid orange and lively pink. Was this really a dream? This feeling of foreboding that he felt…was it real? Aragorn took a look around, and suddenly he knew where he was. These were the cliffs that surrounded his home, that hid the valley of the elves from view.

Why would a dream bring him here? Just as he began to walk into the general direction of the pass that would lead down into the valley, a cold wind brushed past him. In that instant he knew that this was no dream. No, he had felt like this before, numerous times. This was a vision. Normally, they felt a bit different, not so clear but rather abstract and blurred, more feelings than pictures. But this, this had to be a vision.

Slowly, Aragorn turned around and when his gaze fell on the high cliff walls, his breath caught in his throat. No longer were the walls of a brilliant white with streaks of orange and pink, but they were shining in a deep red. Red as blood.

And the redness spread and spilled; it painted the cliff walls and the grass, the trees and the sky, and then slowly, the red crawled up his feet and legs, it painted his stomach and chest, his hands and arms, his neck…

"Noooooo!" Aragorn jerked awake, sweat on his brow and his whole body trembling. For a second, he did not know where he was, or when he was or why in the name of Eru someone was gripping him so tightly. He breathed raggedly, trying to move away from whomever held him, until suddenly a stern voice nearly shouted in his ear.

"Estel, daro!"

He stopped in his struggles, blinked a few times, and then his memories came rushing back. Relief flooded him, and he sank weakly back against his brother's chest. "Dan?"

"Aye, Estel. You dreamed. All is well."

"All is well," Aragorn repeated, closing his eyes. But the instant he closed them, he once more saw the bloody walls and the stained grass. Snapping his eyes open, he sat up straighter, ignoring his various pains and Elladan's hand that tightened around his middle.

Oh no, he did not dare to fall asleep again. No, that vision was too horrid to see again. Fighting the pain in his ribs and knee, Aragorn shifted a bit in the saddle, until he was rather uncomfortable. Hoping that it would keep him awake, he let his eyes roam over the dark forest.

Legolas was riding in the front, and Elrohir and Dagnir were close behind them. All was silent, and Aragorn now knew that he had not yelled out aloud, but only in his dream. Vision.

Taking a deep breath and wondering whether Elladan would allow him to shrug out of his cloak because it was too hot, he gazed into the darkness. What had the vision meant? What had it wanted to show him?

That death awaited him at home? That he would not survive this adventure? But why the metaphor then? So far, his visions had shown him what truly happened, in realistic scenes and emotions, not some red painted cliff walls.

Did that mean that it was not his death that awaited him at home? Had something happened to Imladris? What if the vision was not meant for him but showed him someone else's death or injury? What if…

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips. He could speculate as long as he wished, there was no way he would learn what the vision had meant to show him before it came to pass. Frustrated, in pain and too hot, Aragorn took a deep breath and let his eyes slowly unfocus, so that the trees around him were merely black blurs in a vast see of darkness.

He would worry about the vision when it was time to do so. Now, he needed to save his energy for the ride towards the only real home he had ever known. And as the horse snorted softly under him, the breath misting in the cold night air, the grey clouds that veiled the moon broke open, and tiny white snowflakes made their way down to earth.

--oOo--

Oh, this was just their luck, Legolas thought as he dismounted after Elrohir. Snow! Now, of all times, was really not the right moment for winter to decide to let it snow. It was too early in the season anyway. Normally, it would not snow here for at least another three weeks. So, why now!

Cold and in pain from his broken shoulder blade, Legolas took the horses reins and led the animal towards the small brook that glimmered between the thin tree trunks. He could hear Elrohir help Dagnir dismount, and for a short moment he relished the idea of seeing Dagnir fall from the horse, flat on his ugly face and right into a pile of horse dung.

This image was so wonderful that it took him a long moment to realize that the horse was not drinking loudly beside him, but giving him a reproachful look out of big brown eyes.

"What?" he asked perplexed. The horse snorted and then began to munch away on Legolas's cloak, or at least on the part that the horse managed to grab between its teeth before Legolas yanked his cloak away.

"Hey! Terrorizing trolls, what do you think you are doing?" And in a softer tone he chanted under his breath while he examined his cloak, "Stupid animal, eating my cloak, really."

The next moment he was face to face with the rather hungry looking horse. Taking a step back, he was surprised to not splash through ice-cold water as he had anticipated, but…stood on ice. The brook was completely frozen over. A hot blush crept up his neck to settle in his cheeks, and when he next looked at the horse, he could have sworn the beast looked smug.

Cursing under his breath, Legolas searched the forest ground, found what he was looking for, and soon had broken the ice surface with a rather large rock. The horse stepped towards the water and began drinking eagerly, tail swishing happily. Elladan joined him with the other two horses, and when he saw the red flush on Legolas's cheeks he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What?" Legolas said irritably and then had to glance away as a smile pulled at Elladan's lips. Not pressing the matter, Elladan said conversationally, "We have not covered as much ground today as we hoped, but we can reach Imladris tomorrow night before midnight." He gave the sky a quick glance. "Well, if the weather does not get worse, that is."

Already the forest ground was covered with a low snow crust, and as the trees were leafless, the snow had no problems reaching the ground. If it resumed snowing as it did now, there would be a few inches of snow in the morning.

"How is your shoulder, Legolas?" Elladan asked with sincere curiosity in his voice.

Shrugging and regretting the motion immediately as pain spread down his arm and side, Legolas said rather indifferently, "Could be worse."

"Aye, could be. But it is bad enough as it is anyway. Perhaps we can find some pain reducing herbs so close to a stream. Even if they are long dead and frozen, some roots should still have some healing properties."

"Are you planning on digging in the frozen ground? With your bare hands?" Legolas asked mockingly.

"Uhm, well no. I have not thought about that," Elladan admitted and then gave Legolas a lopsided grin. "We could let Dagnir do the digging."

A grin spread over Legolas's face, and again the picture of the man falling nose first into a pile of horse dung appeared before his eyes. He nodded slowly. "Aye, we could."

Silence settled over the two elves, as both relished their own visions of making the human pay for what he had done. The horses gulped down the cold water, swishing their tails, quite unaware of the elves' thoughts.

Only a few yards away, Elrohir gave Dagnir a stern look, trying to put all his anger and hatred in that single look. When the man recoiled a bit, Elrohir bent down and wagged a finger in front of Dagnir's eyes. "One word, human, and you will be gagged again. Understood?"

Dagnir nodded, and when Elrohir removed the gag, he licked his dry lips and coughed a few times. With more force than necessary Elrohir held a flask of water to the man's lips and let him drink his fill, before he took the flask away to be replaced by some bread. As Dagnir's hands were bound behind his back for the safety of all, Elrohir helped the man eat. The disgusted look that stole over the elf's features could have shamed even a slobbering orc.

When Dagnir had eaten, Elrohir got to his feet and gazed into the direction Legolas and Elladan had taken the horses. In the darkness, the two were not visible between the tree trunks, and Elrohir could not hear them either. Slowly he noticed that they had been gone for some time now, and a flutter entered his stomach.

Aragorn's soft voice reached his ears, and Elrohir nearly jumped, so startled he was. "Go and check on them. They are gone quite long already."

"No, Estel, I will not leave you alone."

"Ro, I am no small child anymore. And…he is bound and stiff from days in the saddle. Nothing will happen."

Elrohir gave his brother a worried look, "Estel…"

"Ro, I will be fine. I will yell if something happens."

Giving Aragorn another long look, Elrohir sighed and then nodded. "All right. I will be back in a moment." And with a rather ugly look at Dagnir that threatened immediate punishment should he try something, Elrohir quickly vanished into the woods.

Aragorn gazed at the spot where his brother had disappeared, then sighed and shifted his position on the hard ground. No matter what he did, his legs and especially his knee hurt incredibly. Not to mention his fever and the many other scrapes and bruises, broken ribs and the burn that made his life so miserable.

The snowfall made the forest look brighter than it should be so deep at night. It was silent, aside from the occasional hoot of an owl and the scurrying of tiny paws over frozen leaves. It was so silent that Aragorn snapped his head around when Dagnir spoke.

"Still alive, are ye? Haven't thought you would survive so long."

"Disappointed?"

A heartfelt smile spread across Dagnir's face. "No, not at all. Where would the fun be if you had died right away? Nay, it is so much more fun this way, scum."

Anger welled in Aragorn, but he felt no fear. Lifting his chin in a defying gesture, he answered, "But you will not be the last to laugh."

"Oh, you think these elves will save your miserable life? Prolong it maybe, but in the end you will plead for mercy."

"You err, Dagnir."

"Do you think I would go to all those troubles just to let you walk in the end?" Dagnir licked his lips and then sighed in fake annoyance, "Really, scum, have you learned nothing from our last encounter? It was not my intention to let you live back then, and I never break my promises."

"A man such as you knows no honour."

Aragorn saw the angry flash in Dagnir's eyes even before the man spoke, "Honour, that is just a word. What would a mere ranger know of honour? Nothing! Thieves you are, the outcasts of towns and the scum of Middle-earth. I was once a Captain of Gondor, something that you would not even be in your wildest dreams. I served the Steward and my country. I was a loyal guardian of the City of Kings."

A snort escaped Aragorn. "Not so loyal, now, were you when you stole the money and tried to kill your subordinates. Tell me, do you really think the Steward would call that service to Gondor?"

Dagnir huffed and his face grew hot, "What do you know of the Steward, scum? Maybe the Steward did not approve, but the King, if we had one, would have listened to my every word."

A bit shocked, Aragorn stared at him. Taking this as a sign to continue, Dagnir spat, "The Steward is nothing more than an old man. He has the wrong priorities. But… the rightful heir of Isildur, he would right the wrongs of the Steward. Gondor would find to his old glory under his leadership."

Aragorn could not help himself but retort heatedly, "Isildur was weak, he had not the strength to cast away the ring, and it was his doom and the doom of mankind. Why do you think his heir would do better?"

Now it was Dagnir's part to look confused. Then, he took a deep breath and said agitatedly, "Of course, a mere ranger would not understand the great motives of Isildur. He was right to take the ring, and it was not the ring that betrayed him, but his own men. Had he not been killed by the orcs because his men left him in battle, he would have led all the Kingdoms to great wealth and glory. But of course, you as a ranger have to think as you do. You do not live in richness and splendour, and you blame it on him and not on your own weaknesses. Ha, all rangers are a disgrace to the Kings of olds."

Aragorn could not believe what the man had said, and somewhere in his mind he asked himself where the man had heard these untruths. But it was clear to Aragorn that Dagnir apparently believed in what he had said. And deep inside, some of the things Dagnir had said hurt, for they awakened old and long forgotten doubts.

"You know not of what you speak."

"Oho, but you do? I doubt that, scum. And it does not matter, you are dead already."

Aragorn eyed the man, and he could not help but see the superiority that Dagnir undoubtedly felt reflect in his eyes. What was it that gave this man such a belief in his own abilities? With a low voice, Aragorn asked, "There is no antidote, then?"

Dagnir made a tsk tsk sound and laughed. "Oh my little ranger, so naïve. Of course there is no antidote. If I have learned something from our last encounter, it is that the sort of you should get no second chances. You will pay for what you have done to me, scum, and I will get the payment…with interest."

"You will get nothing of the sort, Dagnir. I will get through this, and you will have to face your punishment. And when this is all over, you will be nothing more than a bad dream."

Dagnir's eyes glimmered evilly. "No, scum, I already am your worst nightmare. And when this is over, your death will be my most wonderful memory."

Just as Aragorn opened his mouth to answer, the sharp voice of Elladan interrupted the conversation. Aragorn had not even heard his brothers and Legolas return.

"Estel? What is going on here?"

Giving Dagnir a stern look, Aragorn forced his gaze away from the man and looked at his brother. His voice was controlled, but the elves, who knew him so well, had no problem to hear the slight tremor in it.

"Nothing, all is well, Dan."

"Mh, I see." And without another word, Elladan quickly made his way over to Dagnir and gagged the man, much to Aragorn's annoyance. Aye, he was glad that he would not have to talk to Dagnir any longer, but, on the other hand, the gesture seemed to underline his vulnerability.

It seemed Dagnir was of the same opinion, for he gave Aragorn a grin and a pointed look, before Elladan hauled the man to his feet and bound him to a tree, some feet away from the centre of the camp.

Legolas sat down next to Aragorn while Elrohir kindled a small fire, and Elladan took care of the horses. Trying to avert the elves' thoughts from the scene they had just witnessed, Aragorn asked nonchalantly, "So, what took you two so long, Legolas?"

"Oh, the horses were quite thirsty."

None of them knew what to say to that, and so stillness settled over the camp. A lone owl hooted somewhere in the darkness of the forest, and the only sound that filled the air was the crackling of the fire and the fall of the snowflakes on the dry leaves.

Tbc…


So, here you are. Feedback would be nice, I am still starving...:D