A/N: I'm really, really depressed. My friends are all abandoning me, finals
are coming up, the guy I have a crush on has a girlfriend, and I found out.
I didn't think he did, so. . . Anyway, I'm depressed. This will get dark.
A few days later, word came that the Dunadan had been taken. By the Elves. They were severely worried. None knew what happened to a Ranger taken alive by the Elves. . .
Meanwhile. . .
Screams were heard throughout Mirkwood. Legolas looked up from his book, wondering what was going on. Had they caught a Ranger? He hoped not. He decided to go find out.
Aragorn knew only pain. It was his world, all he had ever known. Why, oh why had he gone out without someone? All alone? It was normal for him, but still. He should have had more sense. Why were they hurting him so? He knew he'd been stupid they didn't have to hurt. . .
He was badly injured and wasn't aware that he was screaming. The Elves who were torturing him were doing so on orders to do so from Thranduil. They'd been told that he wanted to hear the screams anywhere in the kingdom. Rangers were evil. They'd stolen an Elf.
Pain. . .Gods, by the Valar, so much pain. . . It was all fire and pain, it hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, *HURT*. Then coolness, and a release into unconsciousness.
Legolas walked in to the room the screams were coming from. It was a Ranger. Dammit. He angrily ordered the Elves out and they argued, but after a time, faced with the wrath of the young bowman before them, they left, no doubt to inform his father. No matter. He reached out and touched the man. He was badly hurt and hadn't eaten or slept in days. He reached for the small magic he possessed and sent the man to sleep. Then, as carefully as he could, he took the man to his rooms and treated his wounds.
Aragorn woke to excruciating pain, but not as blinding hot as it had been. He wasn't bound, he felt that. He pushed up and tried to stand, to run, to fight, to do something. . .
Cool, gentle, firm hands pushed him back down. "Oh, no you don't," a voice he recognized well said. "You're badly injured."
"Legolas?" he got out before he fainted.
Legolas froze. He hadn't realized, hadn't recognized. . . Aragorn. They'd been hurting, torturing his best friend! They'd hurt him so much. . . Why? Because he'd gone off and left for the Dunedain? Who'd no doubt treated him better and loved him more than Elrond ever would have? No. Because he WAS a Dunadan. If they'd known they had the leader. . .Thranduil wouldn't have hesitated to send him to Elrond or kill him. It was good that they didn't know, and lucky.
Legolas carefully set about tending his friend's wounds. Gods, by the Valar. . .They'd hurt him so. If only he'd found him earlier. . .
Aragorn woke up some time later. The excruciating pain he'd felt earlier had turned into a dull ache; thank the Valar. He opened his eyes and shut them again immediately. It was just too bright. He tried to communicate this, but couldn't. His throat was too sore and dry from all the screaming. He had screamed, hadn't he? He thought he had. He wasn't sure. All he really knew for sure was that they'd hurt him.
Suddenly, something was pressed against his lips. He tried to push it away, but a warm, gentle, familiar voice commanded him to drink. So he did. Water streamed down his throat and he was able to rasp out that it was too bright. He heard Legolas moving around, putting out candles. He opened his eyes. Only one candle was lit, but it was enough.
Legolas was sitting on the edge of the bed he was laying on, looking at him. "Hello, Legolas," he rasped quietly. His throat still hurt. The Elf broke down.
"Oh, Aragorn," he said. "I thought you were going to die! They had hurt you so!"
"Legolas, you know I'm too stubborn to die!" Aragorn assured his friend. "Come on. My people need me. If this is what happens when Elves capture a D. . ." he trailed off his throat aching. He waited a moment, then resumed. "A Dunadan, then I'll really have to take care of them I just hope they don't come looking for me."
"Indeed. We have to get you out of here. Come with me."
Aragorn stayed on the bed looking up. "That'll get you in trouble. Let's just turn me back in, pretend you never rescued me, though I much appreciate the respite." He grimaced in anticipation of more screaming, and torture.
"No, Aragorn. You're my friend, and I will not let you get hurt if I can stop it. Plus, I think my father already knows. In addition, your people do need you. Finally. . ." Here he paused. "I think you're the only one that can save our world from the spiral into hell this war has started it on."
"Not me, Legolas. Not me."
"Yes, you, Aragorn. You're of both kindreds, Elven and Dunedain. Both will listen to you, if you exert your influence in the right place. In any case, you need help, and I'm going to give it. This way."
Aragorn smiled at him. "Thanks."
Legolas smiled back. "No problem." He led Aragorn out, into the wilderness. "Go with all speed," he told the Ranger. "They'll be looking for you."
"Thank you," Aragorn said softly, and disappeared, forever first and foremost a Ranger.
A few days later, word came that the Dunadan had been taken. By the Elves. They were severely worried. None knew what happened to a Ranger taken alive by the Elves. . .
Meanwhile. . .
Screams were heard throughout Mirkwood. Legolas looked up from his book, wondering what was going on. Had they caught a Ranger? He hoped not. He decided to go find out.
Aragorn knew only pain. It was his world, all he had ever known. Why, oh why had he gone out without someone? All alone? It was normal for him, but still. He should have had more sense. Why were they hurting him so? He knew he'd been stupid they didn't have to hurt. . .
He was badly injured and wasn't aware that he was screaming. The Elves who were torturing him were doing so on orders to do so from Thranduil. They'd been told that he wanted to hear the screams anywhere in the kingdom. Rangers were evil. They'd stolen an Elf.
Pain. . .Gods, by the Valar, so much pain. . . It was all fire and pain, it hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, *HURT*. Then coolness, and a release into unconsciousness.
Legolas walked in to the room the screams were coming from. It was a Ranger. Dammit. He angrily ordered the Elves out and they argued, but after a time, faced with the wrath of the young bowman before them, they left, no doubt to inform his father. No matter. He reached out and touched the man. He was badly hurt and hadn't eaten or slept in days. He reached for the small magic he possessed and sent the man to sleep. Then, as carefully as he could, he took the man to his rooms and treated his wounds.
Aragorn woke to excruciating pain, but not as blinding hot as it had been. He wasn't bound, he felt that. He pushed up and tried to stand, to run, to fight, to do something. . .
Cool, gentle, firm hands pushed him back down. "Oh, no you don't," a voice he recognized well said. "You're badly injured."
"Legolas?" he got out before he fainted.
Legolas froze. He hadn't realized, hadn't recognized. . . Aragorn. They'd been hurting, torturing his best friend! They'd hurt him so much. . . Why? Because he'd gone off and left for the Dunedain? Who'd no doubt treated him better and loved him more than Elrond ever would have? No. Because he WAS a Dunadan. If they'd known they had the leader. . .Thranduil wouldn't have hesitated to send him to Elrond or kill him. It was good that they didn't know, and lucky.
Legolas carefully set about tending his friend's wounds. Gods, by the Valar. . .They'd hurt him so. If only he'd found him earlier. . .
Aragorn woke up some time later. The excruciating pain he'd felt earlier had turned into a dull ache; thank the Valar. He opened his eyes and shut them again immediately. It was just too bright. He tried to communicate this, but couldn't. His throat was too sore and dry from all the screaming. He had screamed, hadn't he? He thought he had. He wasn't sure. All he really knew for sure was that they'd hurt him.
Suddenly, something was pressed against his lips. He tried to push it away, but a warm, gentle, familiar voice commanded him to drink. So he did. Water streamed down his throat and he was able to rasp out that it was too bright. He heard Legolas moving around, putting out candles. He opened his eyes. Only one candle was lit, but it was enough.
Legolas was sitting on the edge of the bed he was laying on, looking at him. "Hello, Legolas," he rasped quietly. His throat still hurt. The Elf broke down.
"Oh, Aragorn," he said. "I thought you were going to die! They had hurt you so!"
"Legolas, you know I'm too stubborn to die!" Aragorn assured his friend. "Come on. My people need me. If this is what happens when Elves capture a D. . ." he trailed off his throat aching. He waited a moment, then resumed. "A Dunadan, then I'll really have to take care of them I just hope they don't come looking for me."
"Indeed. We have to get you out of here. Come with me."
Aragorn stayed on the bed looking up. "That'll get you in trouble. Let's just turn me back in, pretend you never rescued me, though I much appreciate the respite." He grimaced in anticipation of more screaming, and torture.
"No, Aragorn. You're my friend, and I will not let you get hurt if I can stop it. Plus, I think my father already knows. In addition, your people do need you. Finally. . ." Here he paused. "I think you're the only one that can save our world from the spiral into hell this war has started it on."
"Not me, Legolas. Not me."
"Yes, you, Aragorn. You're of both kindreds, Elven and Dunedain. Both will listen to you, if you exert your influence in the right place. In any case, you need help, and I'm going to give it. This way."
Aragorn smiled at him. "Thanks."
Legolas smiled back. "No problem." He led Aragorn out, into the wilderness. "Go with all speed," he told the Ranger. "They'll be looking for you."
"Thank you," Aragorn said softly, and disappeared, forever first and foremost a Ranger.