Authors Note: WARNING - This chapter contains some graphic descriptions of injuries and violence that may be potentially upsetting to some. Please read at your own discretion. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Rights belong to Tolkien, with exception of my OC's

The hand swiftly, but gently, caught his shackled wrist mid-air and the stone slipped from his fingers. Grey eyes bulged in disbelief as they stared into blue ones. "Legolas?" Aragorn croaked hoarsely. Tears blurred his eyesight; he barely trusted that the blonde, agile form in front of him was real.

Nodding, Legolas' face beamed with utter relief. He pulled the human into a tight embrace with a watery chuckle. Joy filled him; he could finally touch his friend, know he was alive, and banish the fears that had haunted him over the last several days.

The ranger rested his forehead heavily on the elf's chest. Ignoring all of the blazing discomfort from his injuries, he savored the first source of comfort he had had since his nightmare began weeks ago. Legolas' mere presence lent him the light, strength, and hope he craved.

The friends remained this way for another couple of seconds before Aragorn mumbled, "You're late."

"Estel, I–"

But Aragorn cut him off with a smile, "Sidh, mellon nin. It's a joke, and a poor one at that."

"Ungrateful human," the prince growled in mock disgust, lightly pushing him away.

The human's smile instantly faded as he noticed the firstborn's disheveled braids, the grime and scratches on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes. He frowned deeply, "You look terrible."

"Speak for yourself!" retorted Legolas, slinging the pack off his back while mentally noting each of his friend's injuries. A frozen rage simmered hotter with each wound that he saw. "What have these yrch done to you? You look more dead than alive. "

The ranger purposely ignored the question. "These are fresh," he pointed to the ring of ugly pink and purple bruises forming around Legolas' neck. "What happened?"

He brushed aside Aragorn's hands and concern. "Just a small skirmish with one of the guards; it's over now. I'm fine."

Aragorn leveled him with a stare and raised an eyebrow.

The prince resisted the urge to shake his head. Valar, he's worse than Lord Elrond! "Mellon nin, I swear, I'm fine. But, you, on the other hand, are not. Now, we don't have much time, so stop being a healer and let someone care for you for once."

The ranger stared at him for a half-second longer before he sighed, "Fine, but the moment we're safely away from this hole, we're stopping so I can look at your wounds."

While carefully inserting a key into the manacles' lock, Legolas rolled his eyes, "Or when we get back to Imladris–"

The human opened his mouth, but the elf was quicker and turned the key, freeing his raw wrists. Lightening screamed from his hands to his shoulder blades. Black spots danced before his vision and he resisted the urge to heave. He found he could do nothing to stop his body from rocking forward.

"Estel!" The elf dropped the keys and they fell into a muddy groove in the ground with a splatter. His fast reflexes caught the man before he hit the stone floor. He quickly steadied him.

"You did that on purpose," Aragorn gasped through the pain as he gingerly rubbed his wrists, desperately trying to restore blood flow and sensation in them.

A mock expression of innocence mixed with annoyance flitted across the firstborn's face, "Well, I didn't think you would go and faint on me." The elf held him a moment longer, "Good?"

The dark wall before him still swayed from side to side, but Aragorn stubbornly blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. He groaned, "Well enough."

Legolas' small smile did nothing to hide the concern displayed in his eyes. "What if I told you I don't believe you?" he murmured, releasing the ranger and turning back to the bag. He took out a waterskin, uncorked it, and handed it over with a lembas wafer he had pulled out as well. "Here, we only have a few minutes to spare, so drink and eat this to gain what strength you can while I tend to your more serious wounds."

Aragorn's hands trembled with eagerness when he brought the skin to his lips, but he waved off the prince's help. He savored the cool, steady stream that slid down his arid throat. And he couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or cry as he finally satiated the tortuous thirst that had plagued him for the last couple of days.

Legolas glanced up from examining the medicine kit contents, "Slow down or you'll make yourself sick. Small sips, Estel, take small sips."

He wiped away the liquid that had dribbled into his beard and glowered while he bit into the lembas with his chattering teeth. "You're as bad as a mother hen, you know?"

"You sound like Eriphael." He held up a handful of herbs, "Now, hurry, tell me which ones I should use to wrap your back in."

"Use the blackish herbs and mix them with a paste of those red speckled leaves and the bright green petals. They'll help with infection and pain. Oh, and hand me the purple leaf. I can take it for my fever."

He passed over the purple leaf. "Gresit and the other man will be here soon. How long does the paste take to make and how fine does it need to be?"

Aragorn couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at the mention of his captors. "Not long. The leaves just need to be slightly crushed to get their full effect." He motioned to the pile of rocks. "Use those stones to grind them up and toss me two so I can help."

The prince picked up a couple of stones and placed the herbs between them. "Finish your food and water first. I don't need you collapsing on me in the hallway."

Aragorn picked up the rest of the wafer and the purple leaf, crammed them both into his mouth, and swallowed. He then held out his hands demandingly.

With a snicker and shake of his head, Legolas handed over the rocks and herbs. He started to speedily crush the assortment of leaves beneath his rocks. "I've greatly missed you and the light you bring, Estel."

The human tilted his head slightly and looked over at the archer, "I missed you too, mellon nin."

The archer didn't miss the inquiry in his friend's voice. "A lot has happened since we saw each other last. I'll tell you more later once we've escaped and we're far away from this darkness," he sighed. The elf lifted the crushed herbs for Aragorn to see, "How's this?"

He could tell whatever had transpired weighed heavily on the prince but decided not to push it. Legolas was right; they needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Lives depended on him. Nodding, he took the mixture of herbs, added it to his own, and poured some water over the leaves. Legolas removed a roll of bandages from the pack. The ranger held up the paste, "It's ready."

The elf efficiently applied the paste to Aragorn's torn back and shoulders. A cool, numbing sensation took immediate effect. Slowly his muscles loosened up, and his focus and senses sharpened, banishing the pain-filled haze that had settled over them. "Hannon le," the ranger exhaled gratefully, "for everything."

"You're welcome. Always." Legolas whispered as he commenced to tightly wound the bandages around his friend's abdomen and chest, "I would have searched to the very bowels of Mordor to find you, mellon nin."

Stabbing flashes radiated across his ribcage while Legolas bound his broken ribs, but he refused to elicit more than a hiss. "How did you find me? And how did you even know I was missing in the first place?"

"Well, when my escort and I arrived in Imladris last week, it was Erestor who greeted us with the news you were overdue and missing, and that Elrond, the twins, and practically every elf in Imladris were searching for you. After learning more about your last known whereabouts and where the search parties had already searched, I set out that very night–"

"Wait, what about your company?"

"I left them behind."

Aragorn snorted, "Why does that not surprise me?" He could only imagine what went down when Legolas' warriors, renowned for their loyalty to their prince, found out he was gone. It would not have been pretty.

"They would have slowed me down," shrugged the elf nonchalantly. "I ended up looking for you in Bree where I overheard several men talking about a ranger they had captured, so I followed them and they led me here." Legolas peered at the angry, open wounds in front of him and tried to swallow the hot lump that formed in his throat, "I...I only wished I could have found you sooner, then you could have been spared from some of this."

"Don't!" Aragorn turned his head to face the other, "I know that burden too well. Don't take that on yourself, Legolas. There's no way to know. You found me when I had lost hope of being rescued, and for that, I'm grateful, mellon nin."

The firstborn tied off the last bandage. "Has anyone ever told you that you're very wise for a human?" he asked while he pulled out the last of the bag's contents.

The human grinned, "I don't know whether I should be honored or insulted."

"Whichever shoe fits," quipped Legolas as he held out the grey tunic and brown cloak to Aragorn. "Put these on so you don't catch your death of cold when we get outside."

Aragorn grabbed the proffered clothing and shrugged them on with his friend's help. "You raided my dresser again, didn't you?"

A chuckle escaped the elf's lips, "Aye, and I don't regret it. I've learned the hard way one can never be too prepared when it comes to you."

The ranger huffed good-naturedly, clasping the cloak around his neck. But the light-hearted moment passed like a gust of wind, and the cold reality of the daunting task that lay ahead of them set back in. Their countenances turned grim.

Legolas hastily shoved the medicine kit, water, and food back into the pack. He suddenly paused, looking thoughtful. "Estel, what do these men know about you? Do they know who you are?"

Aragorn shook his head, "I told them nothing. They only know I'm a ranger of the North."

"Good. I think we should use your ranger name then to keep it that way."

"Agreed."

The firstborn finished situating the pack on his back, and held out a hand to the human, "Ready, Strider?"

Taking the offered hand, Aragorn allowed his friend to pull him to his feet. He was slightly unsteady for a second before he regained his balance.

Legolas hovered next to him, ready to catch him if needed. He bit his lip; the un-asked question of whether or not the man could make it out under his own power was plain on his face.

The ranger easily read the question and squared his sore shoulders. "Don't worry about me, I can do this, Legolas. I'm stronger than I look," he assured. The elf dipped his head slightly. Reaching behind him, he unsheathed one of his dual knives, offered it to Aragorn, and set an arrow in his bow.

They crossed over to the door. A plan passed between them with the briefest of eye contact. Aragorn stepped forward and pulled the heavy door open with a slight groan, while Legolas stormed into the passageway with his bow up and ready to fire. Wisps of hair fluttered as his head swiveled in both directions, examining the murky tunnel for a foe. There were none to the pair's relief. "Clear. Let's go," the archer breathed.

Legolas embarked on the winding passage at a grueling pace. The knowledge that the hour Ahneus had set was ending spurred him on. The slightest echo of footsteps resounded from the human's shabby boots as he followed behind him.

After going close to a couple of hundred yards, Aragorn whispered, "This is probably inviting trouble, but shouldn't we have run into at least one guard by now?"

"We've passed three," the elf stated matter-of-factly.

The ranger promptly glimpsed around, unconsciously raising his weapon out of habit, "What? How?"

Glancing back at his friend, Legolas explained, "I took care of them when I was trying to locate you. I've hidden them in some of the bigger crevices."

"Ah."

They then continued several more paces before the prince held up his fist. Aragorn halted immediately and strained to hear what the elf heard, but Legolas grabbed him by his tunic and jerked him behind a cluster of stalagmites.

The archer tensed as the footfalls grew louder, and he distinguished two sets of them. His fingertips stroked the arrow's fletching, itching with anticipation. Wheezing breaths mingled with the sounds that reached his ears; blue orbs zeroed in on the source next to him. The ranger leaned heavily against the stalagmite.

Sweat ran down his head and neck in rivulets, which stung his numerous cuts like needles. Aragorn wrapped an arm around his aching ribs to brace them. Each inhale and exhale shot darts of pain into his chest, and it certainly didn't help he was out of breath, causing him to breathe more deeply and frequently. Already he could feel his endurance ebbing against his will. The human shut his eyes and fought to control his breathing. I can do this. I must. There's far too much at stake...

A calloused hand clamped over his nose and mouth. Blue eyes shot open and only the familiar green sleeve and blonde strands kept him from ramming his elbow into the figure crouched directly behind him. Legolas must have sensed that he had startled him because he slightly relaxed his hold, but still covered his lower face, muffling the sound of his breathing.

The friends' gazes were drawn to two men who rounded the corner. Both tightened their grips on their weapons with each step that brought the men closer. And neither Legolas nor Aragorn dared to breathe as the pair sauntered by their hiding place.

Legolas' heart hammered in his chest and continued to beat painfully when the humans kept walking on. A muscle in his jaw was the only thing he moved until the footsteps ceased. The pair released identical sighs of relief, and the elf removed his hand from Aragorn's face.

"A warning would be welcomed next time," spluttered the ranger.

"I did!" The prince protested, "I raised my fist the moment I heard them coming. I thought you knew that signal."

Aragorn resisted the urge to smack his forehead. And they say elves are wise. "No, not that. I meant when you covered my mouth."

"And risk giving away our position?" Legolas countered, assisting his friend with rising from their spot. A mischievous spark flashed in his eye, "Just don't breathe so loudly next time, and we can avoid the issue altogether."

The human rolled his eyes, "I'll do what I can."

"You always do." The archer emerged from behind the rocks and peered into the blackness. Satisfied the threat had passed, he started back up the passage at a run and Aragorn determinedly sprinted after him.

A couple of minutes later, elven ears picked up on punishing footfalls coming towards them. Legolas signaled for the ranger to stop. Both of them sought a hiding space, but sheer walls greeted them on either side. Whoever was coming, was almost on top of the two. Not again, the elf thought darkly, uttering a dwarvish curse under his breath.

Seeing no escape, Aragorn quelled the fear of being recaptured that rose from his stomach. They would have to fight their way out. So be it. The human shifted his stance, adjusted his grip on the knife, and breathed in as deeply as his ribs would allow. He made eye contact with the prince and nodded.

Blue eyes narrowed to slits; practiced hands lifted the sleek, deadly wood into position. Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. The guard he had seen speaking with Ahneus rounded the bend and a black-haired man strode beside him. In half a blink, Legolas loosed an arrow. The guard's mouth dropped in shock. Blood immediately spilled forth as a result of the elf's arrow embedded in his throat. During that span, the black-haired man, nostrils flaring, dropped the whip in his hand and hurled an object at Aragorn.

The prince registered the movement just as he was releasing his next arrow at the man's heart, so he adjusted his aim, and fired. He simultaneously kicked out, sweeping the ranger's legs out from under him.

Aragorn landed with a hard "thud." Legolas' arrow sailed through the air, collided with the knife, and knocked it harmlessly against the cave wall a couple of feet away from him. He coughed trying to force his lungs to work again and watched Legolas reload his bow and send an arrow towards his torturer.

But it was too late. Gresit had already spun out of the arrow's path, and darted into a side passage several yards away, bellowing, "The prisoner is escaping! The prisoner's escaping!"

The elf bent down next to his friend, "Are you all right? I'm sorry, mellon nin, I had to do it! I couldn't risk the knife hitting you if I missed."

"You did what I would've done," Aragorn grunted, "besides, I'm not hurt." Grasping his friend's arm, he grounded through his teeth, "Help me up. We have to get out of here now!"

The prince hauled him up in one swift motion and the pair took off, racing through the twisting tunnel like the Nazgul were after them. Three sharp horn blasts resounded in their ears, alerting all of the cave's occupants to the two's escape attempt.

They ran into three hulking men after rounding a turn. One foe was dead before he could take another step, an arrow protruding from his forehead. Aragorn easily ducked a blow to his head and sunk his steel deep into his opponent's abdomen. Turning around, the ranger found that Legolas had disposed of the third man. Then the man and elf wordlessly sped on.

Six more men fell to the elf's merciless aim and four tasted Aragorn's blade before the pair spotted the cave's opening ahead of them. Legolas detected the growing horde of pursuers closing in on them from behind. Doubt crept into his mind, but he shoved the thoughts aside. He had to focus on winning the battle at hand, at any cost. The sound of someone stumbling to his right drew the firstborn's attention. His hand shot out and stopped his friend's descent just in time. Legolas ducked under the ranger's arm and draped it over his own shoulder.

But Aragorn shrugged off Legolas' attempts to physically support him. "I'm fine! You need both arms to fire your bow. I'll– manage," he panted.

The elf's emotions and reality warred within him. He knew Aragorn was right. They needed him to be able to use his bow if they were going to make it out, but he also knew his friend's strength was waning fast. No matter what he did, their chances of escaping were getting smaller and smaller. The archer sent up a silent plea, Ai Valar be with us…

Legolas nodded at him and let Aragorn continue to run on his own. Summoning his last reserves of strength, he pushed his legs faster, for even he could hear their enemies gaining on them. His brown locks stuck to his sweat-drenched brow and cheeks. His heart thumped painfully. It felt as if it would burst any second, but he didn't care. He had to get back home and warn them or die trying.

Within feet of the yawning mouth, Legolas nocked two arrows on his bow, anticipating the guards on the outside would charge him and Aragorn. He correctly predicted their actions and honed in on the two closest shadows moving to engage them. Like a predator selecting his prey, the elf targeted the man on his left and released an arrow. It flew true. Legolas had already shot the other guard through the eye before the man collapsed dead to the ground.

The ranger and the prince burst out of the cavern and into the night. The fresh air did little to soothe Aragorn's heaving lungs. His wounds screamed with every step and some of the whip marks on his back had reopened and blood trickled from them. All the exertion had taken its toll. Against his will, he was falling behind the inexhaustible firstborn; his body grew heavier and heavier and slower and slower…

Legolas' heart plummeted when he heard a "thunk" on the dew-soaked grass. In an instant, he was on his knees beside his friend, who was struggling to rise to his feet. "Strider–" but the prince did not get to finish. Pushing Aragorn down, he barely ducked in time as an arrow whizzed an inch over their heads. Legolas whipped out one of his own arrows and launched it into a guard who had shot at them near the treeline.

A fourth cloaked guard caught the corner of Aragorn's eye. The enemy pointed his loaded bow at the preoccupied prince and dispatched an arrow. "No!" Reflexively, the ranger reached out and yanked a handful of Legolas' tunic with all of his strength. The projectile whistled over the two of them. He felt the elf use the forward momentum to tuck into a roll and glide over his bruised chest. Legolas came out of the roll with his bow ready to fire and finished off the last of the guards.

"Hannon le," breathed Legolas. He scanned the area for other immediate foes and spared a glance towards the cave. His stomach twisted into several knots as he saw that their pursuers were less than fifty yards away from them. "Valar, they're almost upon us!"

Strong arms heaved the human to his feet. Fear shone brightly in Legolas' pupils. It showed just how desperate their situation was. And Aragorn forced one foot in front of the other with energy he didn't realize he had.

The fleeing pair reached the forest's edge in moments. Legolas pointed to a faint game trail, "Over there." The human didn't waste any effort in voicing his agreement, he silently followed the elf on the small trail and tried to ignore the black spots at the edge of his vision.

The firstborn ached to jump into a tree with his companion and leave the men behind, but one look at the human told him Aragorn wasn't in any condition to do so. And he would not be the one responsible for the death of Isildur's last remaining heir because he fell to his death from a simple tree. They would remain on the ground and the prince would find another way. If they could just reach Mithelen, then she would easily outrun their pursuers. He brought two fingers to his lips and released a piercing whistle that echoed into the night.

Ten seconds later he repeated the signal. A horse's whinny answered from somewhere behind him. The prince's breath hitched in his throat, and he moaned in dismay. That wasn't his horse; it belonged to their enemies.

All of a sudden, Aragorn felt his body give out. He couldn't stop his legs from crumpling to the leaf-strewn ground. His quivering muscles refused to listen as he begged them to help him rise. He was done. He had pushed his body way past its limit.

Legolas skidded to a halt and dashed back to the fallen human. Gresit and his men had closed the gap and were only thirty yards behind them now. Lifting his head, Aragorn pleaded, "No, Legolas! Get out of here! Leave me!"

"Never!"

"No, you must! Someone has to warn them; warn Elrond!"

Legolas threw the ranger over his back and started into a sprint again. "Warn him about what?" he gasped in an attempt to focus on something other than the horde and stallion that drew closer and closer to them with each step. It would take a miracle to save them now.

Aragorn rasped, "They're...they're going to attack Imladris!"

Stormy, blue eyes widened in horror. "What?" An anxious whinny sounded in the far distance before the human could explain. The elf's hopes lifted minutely, for he knew that sound. Mithelen!

A bolt of white-hot, searing pain abruptly exploded deep in Legolas' thigh, tearing a cry of agony from him. He tripped, and the dark ground eagerly rushed to meet him.

"Legolas!" yelled the ranger. His entire body howled as he hit the ground once more. He grimaced when he heard a loud "snap" from Legolas landing. He prayed it was the arrow in his friend's thigh and not a bone. Aragorn instantly began to untangle his limbs from the elf's so he could find the other's wound.

A swell of pain traveled up and down his leg and through the rest of his body. Legolas' hand automatically went to the broken shaft, but Aragorn's hand beat him to it. "No," the prince choked, "leave it! There isn't time. I have to get up...get us out of here!"

But there was no time, just like Legolas said. Their enemies quickly encircled them and converged upon the two. Legolas unleashed his knife and cut off the nearest hand that tried to grab him, while Aragorn planted the knife's twin into the closest human's chest cavity. Withdrawing the steel, he stabbed another foe. But the number of hands and weapons quickly overwhelmed the elf and human, and their blades were soon wrenched from their grasp.

It took four men to restrain the ranger and six sets of hands to hold down the elf while their captors roughly bound them. Aragorn forced aside the pain from his torso and limbs and strained to free his arms from the unrelenting grips that held him. He saw Legolas thrashing against the humans wrestling him, completely ignoring his arrow wound. He didn't get to see more because a rugged hand wrapped around the side of his head and forced it into the dirt. The ranger heard a familiar pair of boots stop in front of him. A powerful fist grabbed a handful of his hair and wrenched his head up. An iron grip snaked around his throat, but Aragorn refused to break eye contact with the black eyes that stared at him.

"You thought you could escape me," Gresit sneered with a feral grin as he began crushing the other man's airway. "I'll show you just how wrong you were."

Legolas froze upon seeing Aragorn's body arch at the lack of air. All thoughts of fighting off the foes who were finishing the knots around his wrists and ankles fled from his mind. He desperately sought a way to save his friend and draw the monster's attention away from him.

The Valar finally seemed to smile on him at that moment as one of his captors got up off the ground and stepped back between the elf and Gresit. Legolas didn't hesitate. Faster than lightning, he smashed his trussed-up knees into the unsuspecting man's legs, causing them to buckle.

The rotund man fell backward into the ranger's tormentor, which knocked Gresit slightly off balance. The prince let out a calculated laugh that dripped with arrogance, "You humans are so pathetic." Gresit whirled towards the firstborn on the ground. His face contorted further, and a vein protruded from his neck. Legolas suppressed a relieved smile; he had the human's attention.

Aragon gasped for air the moment the black-haired man's hold loosened, dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He once again fought back the tide of darkness that licked at his vision. Grey eyes found blue ones and pleaded with his friend to stand down, but Legolas only gave the slightest shake of his head. He clinched his fists as Gresit delivered a blow that snapped the archer's head back into the damp ground. Stupid, self-noble elf! And the ranger silently cursed the soulless orch, vowing vengeance.

"Want to say that to my face, elven scum?" Gresit seethed.

A coppery taste filled the elf's mouth. He quickly steadied his swimming senses and raised his head to meet the monster's glare with one of his own, channeling the soul-freezing scowl of Oropher's line. Now, he just had to keep the focus on him for as long as possible. Without blinking, he spat a mouthful of blood on the man's crusted boots; he paid dearly for it. Gresit muttered a dark oath and harshly stomped on his new prisoner's leg an inch away from the arrow's entry point.

The fiery pain from his leg made his whole body buzz in distress. Defiantly, he clamped his mouth shut, refusing to release the scream that threatened to claw its way loose. The prince forced a smirk on his face instead. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunted, "You're merely proving my point."

Gresit backhanded him again. "How about I snap every single bone in your body, and we'll see who's pathetic then!" he hissed.

"Gresit, wait! Take me! I'm the one you want." Panic churned Aragorn's gut as he helplessly watched the black-hearted man raise his leg over Legolas. "Leave him alone or I swear you'll pay!"

But Gresit ignored the ranger's pleas. The man's heavy boot descended, and Legolas steeled himself for the impact.

"Stop!" A bellowing voice suddenly cut through the crowd, causing Gresit to immediately halt his leg mid-air. "That's enough!"

So close, and yet, so far...

Thank you for honoring me by taking the time to read this! It is my hope that you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave a review if you so choose.

Stay safe, stay strong, and love well,

M.B. Anchor