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~ Chapter Two: The Trials
(Aragorn POV)

The sun rose that day sunny, and to a passer-by there was not much indication in the weather that just the night before, that had been a battle of nigh on 10,300. Haldir, Gimli, Gandalf and I scoured the ground below the walls; there was nothing but orc corpses, with the occasional, unlucky elf or man. Not Legolas.

"Aragorn, time is growing late, we will have to abandon hope," Gandalf finally said, leaning on his staff for support. "Legolas is just another unfortunate casualty of war. We will mourn him sadly. He was a dear friend."

"I suppose he was okay for an elf," Gimli said gruffly, and coughed.

Haldir licked his paper dry lips. "Gandalf is right," he finally admitted. "We need to march to Mordor. Sauron is summoning orcs and Easterlings to do his foul work. Let him be, Estel."

"I will not!" I cried sticking Narsil into the body of an already dead orc with venom. "I will not let Legolas be a percentage. He is a friend, a comrade, I will not let him die in some shallow ditch."

"Look around you son of Arathorn," Gandalf said. "Those men have lost families, and they are mourning, but they are not wasting time when there is no hope left! There are thousands of bodies here, it would take days to check under each corpse."

I swung at the orc again. I was so angry; I had to get the anger out someway.

"Do not desecrate the dead. Orcs may be the servants of the dark powers, but they cannot help what they were born as. Save your anger for worthier foes than ghosts," Gandalf rebuked sharply.

I blushed at the wizard's reproach and hung my head. "Aye, we will continue. We will get horses, armour and everything else. I want to see any, fit, fighting man out here in five hours. We march for Mordor," the leader Aragorn took over and with a quick, sympathetic smile at Gimli I walked back towards the burnt, remains of the gate.

~

An hour later I led Brego out onto the churned mud and looked up at Helms Deep. I'm sorry I had to disobey you, Gandalf, I silently told him, and then spurring my horse, I galloped away.

I was off to Isengard.

~

(Legolas POV)

I woke up with a start. I had passed out the minute Tiax had flung me on the floor again. Saruman had cackled and then smacked me on the head with his staff.

I looked around and tried to distinguish shapes, but I couldn't. It was too black.

The inky darkness that surrounded me was most probably that of a dungeon. I could still feel the black marble floor of Isengard beneath me, so that was vaguely reassuring.

"I see you have awoken, elf," a sneering voice called. I twisted my head around, trying to trace the owner, but couldn't. "I will save more questions by answering you. I am Saruman the White. And yes you are in Isengard."

"Show yourself!" I cried. A fool in the dark is more dangerous than a warrior in the light.

"I am showing myself. I do not know why you cannot see me." Saruman's voice was amused, and mocking. "Maybe you cannot see at all."

"No!" I gasped. "I can see, 'tis just a bit dark in here."

There was a prick against my wrist and I winced in pain. "Blood from an elf," he stated strangely. "That is the key ingredient for my spell."

"Your spell? What spell?" I asked frantically, trying to move forward and dislodge the wizard from where he was.

"You are bound with spells. Trying to move will only make them more complicated."

With bony fingers, Saruman squeezed the flesh around the cut, making blood drip out of the wound. "Its funny how venerable the mighty elves are without their eyesight," he mused. "But how vulnerable are they? That is a good test I think."

The air around me suddenly lightened and I could smell something salty.... the sea? Could I smell the sea?

"A sword for the warrior, I think," Saruman said and immediately in my grip I could feel the firm, metal hilt of a sword. It was light. I took a practice swipe through the air and noticed with approval, the whistling noise as the blade cut the air around it.

"Not the armour though," he said. And I felt the wind blowing against stronger, and beneath me, I could feel sand. I was on a beach.

My armour had been removed so that I was only garbed in my leggings. "Let the battle begin!" Saruman said, his voice was quiet, but I could hear it everywhere, carried through the wind.

Listening intently, I cocked my head slightly and there I could hear it. The dull, soft, *thud*, *thud* of orc feet. I twirled the sword in my hand, and stood in a crouching position awaiting my foe.

Then the walking increased into a run and with a war scream, the orc leapt at me. The noise was coming from the right so I dodged further to the left and then when I heard running next to me, I spun around with the blade.

There was another thud as the body hit the ground in it's disembodied form.

"Well done, well done," the Saruman voice echoed. "For the next competitor."

I listened carefully again. This time there was a lighter *scamper*, *scamper*. Goblins.

I ignored everything else apart from the sound and when it charged, I did the same thing as with the orc. Again it dropped to the floor.

"This is too easier for a creature such as you," Saruman purred in my eye. I spun around trying to find him; I was armed with a sword in my hand. I could end it all now. "Distractions."

Then all around me, I could hear the noise of a crowd. It was like I was in a massive amphitheatre, and these were my spectators.

I could not hear the approach of my next enemy until the second before it's blade his my head and as it shrieked. Then coolly, I stuck my blade forward. It sunk into the soft belly of an Uruk-hai.

"Finally my champion: just how deadly is Legolas?" Saruman asked.

I calmed my breathing, which was erratic with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. And listened hard. There were footsteps, softer. The creature padded towards me in a ziz-zag manner; making it hard for me to trace the angle it would attack in.

When I heard a mighty shout of: "Elendil!" I froze.

"Aragorn?" I whispered then ducked the blow, but as I ducked under the blade, my friend caught my shoulder and pushed me to the floor. I was laying on my back, my face upwards.

Aragorn bent over me, his leather armour creaking. I could fell his hot breath on my cheek as he whispered: "Goodbye."

I had a chance now; I could have raised the sword and beheaded him. But I could not. Aragorn was my best friend; he must be under some spell that makes him act like this. It is not his conscience that is driving him, if he does kill me. So why should I take his life?

I winced in premonition as the blade whistled towards me.

Then Saruman clicked his fingers and I felt a sudden movement; the world turning above me, and the next thing I knew, I could feel myself kneeling atop of Aragorn.

The odds were reversed. It was I who was slashing the blade down and Aragorn, who was below me, but he did not share the same idea as me and he was also raising his sword. If I hit him first, then he would not hit me, I thought speedily. But then I am killing my friend again. My friend.

I stopped and the sword swung behind my head. I waited for the death warrant.

~

Thank you LotR fan it will be updated quickly. I can't wait to update stuff. And the person always varies.

I think, *er* thank you legolaslova for the review at least. I'm sorry about picking on him.. I always do though. Sorry, but I don't like writing about anyone else that much.

LadyDi: That's true. They wouldn't have gunpowder. I'm sorry, I'm silly. I hope I didn't put in any other mistakes. Sorry if I did though.

Sirithiliel: Thanks always a pleasure to entertain.

And as always: thanks to Annaicuru and KayteUnfading for their support. Thanks guys!