A/N: Thank you to those kind people who reviewed the first chapter. For those who may have little patience with storylines that take a while to develop, the action will not start until they reach Moria, and from there the tale develops. The first few chapters are more introductory, but I shall try not to delay.

Cheers!

Thorn Dew'Pearled

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'Take your hands off me you wretches!'

'Boromir! Quickly!'

For the third time that morning, Boromir was forced to wrestle Aragorn to the ground and hold his head to the dust until the fit of madness passed. When finally it subsided and Aragorn was sober again they hauled him to his feet and marched onwards. Bound as he was, movement was greatly limited: his wrists were still tied, but behind his back; with another rope he was attached to Boromir, who was the strongest amongst them and the only man capable of subduing Aragorn should he attempt to strike out at his guardians.

Legolas walked beside them, at times venturing to place a hand on Aragorn's shoulder - although the Ranger often cursed at him there was nothing he could do and Legolas was adamant that Aragorn's current state would pass.

The great mountains now rose closer, and the grassy lands dwindled away into the near distance to come to a rest at the steep and stony feet of Eregion. Their path was as yet undecided, and all planning had fallen to Gandalf now that Aragorn was severely indisposed. He knew that Aragorn had wished to take the mountain pass, and so reach the Dimrill Dale by way of the Redhorn Gate; but he wished to chance the dark and ancient passages delved deep below the mountains - the dreaded Mines of Moria. Should he trust to Aragorn's judgement or his own?

'Don't touch me Elf!'

Aragorn's mad cries broke into his thoughts. The Ranger was trying to shake Legolas' hand from his shoulder, but his restraints made this impossible and so he walked heavily along seething with rage. Boromir kept him in careful check; often the Ringbearer fell into the Ranger's sights, and a hunger was visible in his eyes. Sam protectively slipped an arm about Frodo's shoulders and coaxed him away from Aragorn's sights.

Legolas reluctantly removed his hand when reprimanded by a bad-tempered Gimli, who was fast losing patience with Aragorn's loss of sanity and feared he would shortly be losing his own. 'Leave the man be,' he said, turning on Legolas. 'You are not doing anything more aside from increasing his anger, and our chances of being spied by enemies who can surely hear him cursing from many miles away.'

'Please don't argue,' Sam begged them, worried over Frodo, who had not uttered a sound all morning and journeyed with bent back and bowed head, staring blankly at the passing track. 'It's not right, all this fighting among friends; whether they want to be or no. We were given this task by Lord Elrond, the least we can do is try to get along.'

'Wise words, Master Gamgee,' said Gandalf from the lead. 'Do as he says, Legolas; leave Aragorn be. There is naught you can do. I know this causes you much pain to know, and you dearly wish it was otherwise; but I am afraid it is not, so let him alone for the time being.'

Miserably, Legolas left Aragorn's side, who smiled at the Elf's obedient lack of presence, well pleased. 'Don't lag,' Boromir muttered, tugging roughly on their tether. Aragorn stumbled forward and glared daggers at him: if looks could have killed, Boromir would have been felled on the spot.

Pippin had been following worriedly in Merry's wake, bewildered by his silence and lack of cheer. Numerous times he had tried to lift Merry's spirits, but had succeeded in drawing out nothing more than a 'Go away Pippin.' He had reverted to trailing hopelessly in Merry's wake, feeling small and useless; just another insignificant speck of dust on a large window pane. And Aragorn was not helping, constantly calling out threats and taunts to all.

'Watch a bird doesn't come and nest in your beard,' he sneered at Gimli, who blatantly ignored him and Aragorn soon grew tired of the pointless game, for he could not flare the dwarf's usually short temper. At times he would cry out and start muttering, trembling and shaking his head as if suffering some great internal struggle.

'Hate ... hate, no ... friends ... hurt - never ... NEVER!' he cried unexpectedly aloud, and tried to run but stumbled and fell to the ground. Boromir was dragged down with him, and Aragorn suddenly set upon him with teeth bared in a snarl, reaching for his neck. Legolas hurried to them, and pulled Aragorn away; who kicked and screamed for all he was worth, shrieking curses deafeningly at the Elf. And then he was still, hanging limply in Legolas' arms like a rag-doll in those of a child. A wintery wind was blowing, tangling in the uncovered hair of the nine, who watched in silence as Aragorn become meek and obedient again, as if he understood why they had to do this to him, and saw it not as a betrayel.

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Lashed once again to a tree, now the withered grey bole of a dead beech, Aragorn was quiet, but his eyes spoke much as they watched his companions with a malice and compassion as deep as the ocean. The noon-day sun burned the skin with a fierce ferocity, but the air was cold and wove among them with fingers of ice. He was alone once again: none were willing to risk approaching him lest he or they should come to any grievous harm.

Only Legolas, whom he had shared a strong bond with since childhood, was game to try; and try he did. Aragorn watched him from beneath a lowered brow as the Elf approached with a friendly caution and a wavering smile on his pale face.

'I was wondering if you were hungry, mellonamin,' he said, with voice hope-tinged. The left eye of the Ranger was twitching strangely, and the fear of Legolas grew with every moment of silence that passed. Gandalf had advised him to let Aragorn alone, but the truth was too hard for him to accept.

'Nay,' said Aragorn at length. Legolas almost started with sudden joy: this was Aragorn as he had known him; the man who was almost a brother to him. Sitting back on his haunches, he offered the Man a crust of the bread they had brought from Rivendell, and a water skin should he wish to assuage thirst. 'Come,' he said gently. 'You have not eaten for two days, nor taken any refreshment.

'I want nothing, I would rather starve than suffer this cursed being,' Aragorn murmured sullenly, and his head dropped sideways, his eyes unable to look into those of Legolas. 'Tell me,' Legolas implored him, setting the bread and water aside; attentive. 'He who now resides in my body,' Aragorn wept, his tears staining the dry ground, which drank them in greedily. 'I know not how he came to be within me, but I wish him only to leave ... BE QUIET!'

He lashed out, startling Legolas, who fell backwards with a painful thud. Scrambling back, he stared at the Ranger, who now glared at him, and then stared in horror. 'Stay away from me,' mumbled Aragorn, shamed; but then his will was overcome by the other and he became as he had been the past two days. 'Leave me alone!' he shouted, and tried to kick Legolas away.

The Elf rose quickly and left him, knowing Gandalf would not be pleased with him. Leering, Aragorn chewed ravanously at the bread and drank the water-skin dry, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. 'You would starve me, would you?' he hissed to himself, casting the skin aside with a satisfied grunt. 'You make me laugh, you pitiful idiot! Almost I regret taking you as a host - but you will have purpose yet. Now stay silent and cease this squirming! You are a giving me a headache.'

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'The peak of Caradhras,' sighed Gandalf, standing on the grassy crest of a small slope and looking to the hulking, cloud-crowned mountain. They had been travelling many hours, and the sun was close to setting. 'It was that path Aragorn wished to take - I do not know what I should do. I say we take a vote; we must establish equality in this company, the purpose of which some appear to have overlooked.' Although no names were mentioned, his gaze fell on those he had silently convicted of this. 'Have your say, each of you.'

Aragorn, muttering incoherently once again, was supported between Boromir and Legolas, for his own feet seemed no longer capable of serving him rightly, and when left alone he crumpled weakly to the ground.

'It is draining his strength,' Boromir said softly, glancing down at the demented Ranger leaning heavily on his shoulder.

'Whatever it is,' Legolas agreed in upset.

'Hi! What say you three ... two?' came the raised voice of Pippin, and they turned their attention to the sane members of their Company. Seeing they had not any idea what he was aksing them about, Pippin repeated what Gandalf had said.

'Would you take Aragorn's choice or Gandalf's?'

Legolas and Boromir exchanged glances. 'I would take the path of Aragorn,' Legolas answered after a moment's pause. 'He is skilled in the wild, and would not lead us astray. In him I place my loyalty and trust.'

'I too,' said Boromir, though still uncertain. 'Little have I known him, but from how he had led us prior to this misfortune I know him to be well- learned.'

'I would follow Aragorn,' came Frodo's quiet voice, and he turned his glistening eyes to the wizard. 'As you once said "When you are in the company of a Ranger you had best listen to him, especially if that Ranger is Aragorn."'

'And I will follow Frodo,' said Sam stoutly, resting a comforting hand on his master's tense shoulder. 'Us too!' chorused Merry and Pippin, then looked at each other and chuckled.

'Then it is decided,' Gandalf proclaimed, and tipped his staff towards the mountain. 'We chance the Redhorn Gate.'

'What other choice do we have?' muttered Boromir when none but Legolas and a now delirious Aragorn could hear.

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The sky was alight with the brilliant fires of late evening as upwards they struggled, picking a precarious path among the sparse, tripping weeds and treacherous stones that dominated the foot of Caradhras. Further above them hung the swirling gloom, boding evil should they continue. None cared to pay any heed to this early warning, weariness was gnawing at leaden limbs and eyes were beginning to droop.

A single star shone on the burning horizon as the shades of night marched forth across the sky, the sole occupant of the heavens awaiting its companions. It was Frodo who first descried the lone, sparkling dot above the shimmering carpet of the grasslands below them. Secretly he made a quick wish; although he had never been one for superstition it comforted him somewhat, feeling that he had been heard by an unseen deity that may answer his silent cry.

The humid atmosphere seemed to be closing in on them, trapping them within its suffocating folds; and then suddenly it released, letting in a rush of icy air and allowing them to breathe again. It burned in their chests as they drew it in eagerly, glad of the welcome freedom; but the cold bit with frozen teeth and brought no comfort.

'Hi!' cried Pippin in surprise, his eyes on the upturned palm of his left hand. 'It's snowing! Gandalf, it's snowing!'

'I have noticed Master Took, rest assured,' Gandalf answered, looking with furrowed brow to the grey cloud-laden sky, which now let fall small shining drops of white to land on skin and clothes. 'I am afraid Caradhras has no benevolence to bestow on us this night, he does not welcome strangers.'

Snow being somewhat of a rarity in the Shire, even during winter, the hobbits were openly delighted by this cold beauty that rained down upon them. Aragorn's escorts remained silent; Boromir knowing all too well that snow was as deadly as it was fair, and Legolas, having never seen snow in his long life, having dwelt only within the confines of his forest home, was in quiet admiration of this new natural wonder, although he harbored an ill-feeling about it too.

'I fear a storm may come of this,' muttered Boromir darkly. Legolas nodded, and looked down at Aragorn, who was fighting to remain conscious and every now and again undiscernable words fell from his lips. 'Just be wary of your feet,' he answered softly. 'I would not chance a fall from this height.' Boromir frowned. 'Was Aragorn's sanity truly intact when he plotted this route for us?' he said dryly.

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A cruel wind was blasting down on them, stinging their faces and driving them backwards with vicious blows. 'We will never reach the Redhorn Gate in this manner!' Boromir cried to Gandalf over the howling of the rushing air. 'This will be the death of us all!'

'Curse you Caradhras!' Gimli shouted, kicking in a rage at the snow that threatened to trip him with every step he took.

'There is a cliff ahead,' Gandalf called back, appearing a flickering memory branded on the snow motes to those who came in his wake, wavering in the blizzard as he was. 'That will be the closest to shelter we shall get. Have faith, it is not far.'

With ill-timing, Aragorn began to kick and struggle. 'Hold still,' Boromir said fiercely, pulling him upright as he sagged to the ground in an attempt to escape their hands. 'Get them away! Get them away!' Aragorn shrieked, and his teeth had suddenly clamped down hard on Boromir's wrist. With a hissing cry of pain, Boromir stumbled backwards and slipped. Legolas made to leap for him, but Aragorn was on hands and knees and scrambling away as fast as he could. Grasping the Ranger by the collar, Legolas succeeded in drawing him to a halt; but not in keeping him quiet or still.

Aragorn screamed, a high-pitched and anguished keening, as if the Elf had skewered him with a rusty spear and twisted it within him. As Legolas stared at him in horror, Aragorn reared up on his knees and with a flailing motion had knocked the Elf sideways into a shallow drift.

Merry and Pippin had come rushing back and siezed hold of Aragorn, who proceeded to thrash and shriek in a most uncouth fashion.

'Be still!'

Gandalf's deep voice came booming down the snowy slope, and the wizard's dark shape loomed out of the curtain of flying ice. Aragorn bared his teeth and a low growl issued from his lips, held down by weight by Merry and Pippin.

Boromir came crawling from where he had fallen, glaring at Aragorn with a burning dislike and desire to throttle him. Legolas pulled himself from the drift, brushing the snow from his dampened clothes. Tears were glistening in his strong Elven eyes: a warrior broken at the heart.

Aragorn snatched at Frodo, crying out, 'The Ring! The Ring! Must have ... NO ... give it to me!' Before Frodo could say anything, as Sam leapt before him to protect him from the insane Aragorn, Gandalf's staff had cracked down hard on the Ranger's head and he lay unconscious before the bewildered Gamgee's feet.

Gandalf lifted his hat and sighed heavily. 'Alas that it should be so,' he said wearily. 'I am sorry, my friend Aragorn. I had no wish to do that; but you are becoming a danger not only to your companions but to yourself.'