Acknowledgements: To my beta, friends, and reviewers.

Chapter 4: What Once Was Lost…

Aragorn sighed as a fat raindrop plopped on to his nose, brushing it away with a flip of his hand. The previous night's rain had done significant damage to the tracks and signs he was trying to follow. Forest soil had been turned into a soupy mess, completely obliterating the prints of two lost Hobbits.

It annoyed him that he had to do the tracking by himself. As a Ranger, Aragorn had the skills of a Man who had spent much of his life in the wilds, surviving on the land. This did not mean, however, that he didn't appreciate a bit of help now and then. Unfortunately, the Fellowship members he had left back at camp were of no use to him. Neither Gimli nor Boromir were experienced in the tracking field and were liable to confuse the already jumbled signs. Gandalf seemed to be so lodged in his silent thoughts that Aragorn was loath to disturb him. Finally, the Ranger was certainly not going to risk the life of the Ringbearer to search for two foolish Hobbits. Luckily, Samwise was disinclined to leave his master, thus keeping him out of Aragorn's way.

Legolas was nowhere to be found.

Cursing, Aragorn gently pushed aside branches, looking for a broken twig, a crushed plant, anything that might point him in the correct direction. Much of his present anger was directed towards the missing Elf, who had left him on his own.

The two had already worked together in the tangled web of Mirkwood and had been quite successful in their ventures. Other than himself, Legolas was the best tracker that Aragorn knew, a combination of Elven senses and intelligence proving to be a valuable asset. Now, however… the Ranger wasn't sure how to explain the Elf's odd behavior. Unruly hair, various bumps and bruises, and the now infamous fall from the log bridge- none fit Legolas's personality.

The Ranger shook his head. He didn't need to ponder another's troubles while he had plenty of his own. At the moment, his responsibility was to seek out two straying Hobbits and herd them back to the others. Wherever Legolas was, he could take care of himself.

The soil under his feet buckled slightly from his weight, revealing the beginning of a possible hollow space in the ground. Agilely, Aragorn leapt backwards to avoid the pitfall.

Odd, he mused to himself, stalking around the weak ground warily. The dirt should not have sunk so much in a mere rainstorm. Perhaps an animal stumbled into the weakest area, created a hole, and became trapped. With a sigh, Aragorn drew his bow and notched an arrow. Fresh game was always a welcome commodity to the Company. At least this mission would yield something.

Poking about the ground with his foot, Aragorn located the strongest area around the hole and crept forward, peering into the deep chasm in the earth. The sight both gratified and surprised him.

The two missing Hobbits were sprawled unceremoniously in the mud, their snoring raucous enough to disturb the dead. Aragorn lowered his bow in relief. But wait… he shifted his weight to peer deeper in the hole.

The figure was so encrusted with drying muck that it was nearly impossible to distinguish it from the pit's walls. What drew the Ranger's eye was a glint of blond hair and pale skin shining through the reddish-brown mud. Legolas. Aragorn stifled the urge to laugh at the unlikely sight.

With his legs pulled to his chest and his arms folded on top of his knees, Legolas seemed to be staring off into the distance. Aragorn smiled and shook his head. Having spent most of his life around this Race, he knew a sleeping Elf when he saw one.

"Legolas," he called softly, in a voice that he knew only the other's ears could pick up. Below him, the Elf stirred, closing his eyes in a decidedly un-Legolas-like yawn.

"Estel?" came the low mutter from the hole, "you certainly took your time."

**

After enduring several friendly insults to his person from Aragorn, Legolas eventually ended up beside his comrade, helping him haul out Merry and Pippin. The Hobbits blinked their eyes at the brilliance of the sun after the relative darkness of the hole.

"What happened to you?" Aragorn inquired, mussing Pippin's hair to rid it of the mud-turned-dust. Before Pippin could answer, Merry cut off his friend, sending a glare in his direction.

"We were looking for mushrooms. Mythical mushrooms, as it turns out."

"Not true!" protested Pippin.

"And the ground collapsed while we were looking, so here we are." Merry continued.

Aragorn nodded, then turned to Legolas. "And you? Were you out seeking mushrooms as well?" Legolas glared and sniffed.

"I believe you already know the answer to that," he replied, raking his loose hair from his face. "I simply fell in." The Man made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, which Legolas ignored. "If you will excuse me, my friend, I need some time alone." He turned and took a step towards into the trees.

"Legolas, wait," Aragorn reached out to grasp his friend's arm, his hand slipping off from the thick layer of mud currently encrusting that particular arm. "Is there something wrong?" Legolas inclined his head to glance backwards.

"No." At a second thought, he smiled and began disentangling himself from his quiver and his dual knives. "I will be fine. I would have you do two favors for me, though." Shifting back towards the Ranger, he removed his weapons and handed them over. "Take these back to camp for me. I shall return shortly. And," Legolas shrugged his shoulders to relieve them of cramps, "please, not a word to the Dwarf about this." Having said all that was needed to say, the Elf took off into the forest, not disturbing a leaf in his trail.

The wind generated from Legolas's sprint dried the mud to his face, but he couldn't have cared less. The sheer joy of racing through the woods, his most comforting environment, could help him ignore just about any inconvenience. He was still slightly awkward from his lack of sleep, but the rest in the hole had been enough to renew much of his former vigor and Elves are known for quick healing. Only another immortal would have been able to spot the inconsistencies in Legolas's movements.

A plethora of creek sounds bombarded his ears, causing him to run faster to reach his destination. Steadily the blue line grew between the trees. It was the same body of water that Legolas had fallen in yesterday. This far down, it appeared to be the size of a small river. With his last burst of speed, he reached the water's edge and jumped out as far as he could into the swirling stream.

The cold water engulfed him. It freed his hair from its mud shell as he kicked to the surface, gasping for the breath the frigid stream had stolen from him. Refreshed, he worked his way to shore, shaking out his hair and wringing out his tunic. 

Something occurred to him then and he stopped, letting his feet squish into his boots. Casting his glance downwards, he located the longest, strongest reed among the grass and twisted it off at the stem. He then placed the very tip in his teeth and began peeling back the layers of dryness until he reached the strong innards of the plant. Smiling softly, he started his trek back to camp, twisting his new hair tie between his fingers.

~FIN~

Ack, it's over. Hopefully that wasn't too unsatisfying. Stay tuned for a possible "Making of the Story" bonus chapter, if you are so inclined.

Again, thanks to all that read this. It's you that I'm doing this for. -_^