Story Title: Lean on Me

Chapter Title: Time

Author: J. Chassells

Summary: My take on how Aragorn (mostly referred to as Strider and Estel in this fic) and Legolas met and how their friendship was forged throughout their adventures and misadventures.

Author's Note: My first LOTR fic, so please don't hurt me! Reviews and flames are appreciated. This fic isn't really dedicated to anyone, but if I'd have to dedicate it to someone or something, I think this one goes to the US Military. I'm an extremely patriotic person and I support our military completely and firmly. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just the plot, yada, yada, yada...

Characters that star in this story: Strider (Estel), Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, maybe a mention of Arwen here and there, and some unnamed orcs and just plain ol' bad guys.

Another A/N: Hmm...once again, please keep reviews PG, and also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Sorry my chappies are taking longer to come up. But stick with it!

One again, Indicates thought.

Chapter 10

Legolas pulled Myaven to a stop and jumped from the horse. He ran to his friend, who was lying on his stomach, and saw the bonds on his wrists. Whipping out his dagger, he quickly cut through the ropes and gently pulled them off his friend. He bristled with anger when he saw the raw bleeding flesh on his wrists. Legolas felt hope leap into his throat, though. If the wounds were bleeding, then Strider was still alive. However, his relief was quickly overshadowed by shock. With his arms at his side, Legolas could see Strider's bare back. The bruises stood out on the pale skin, and the whip marks had raised angry red welts from the tender skin. Legolas choked back a sob and carefully rolled his friend over.

Strider's skin was hot to the touch, indicating a raging fever. There were burn marks on his torso; long, angry, festering, bloody burns followed each of his ribs from his sides to his chest. Whip marks and massive bruises also marred his skin. His right shoulder was twisted at an unnatural angle and there was an immense bleeding hole in it. Legolas turned his attention to his friend's throat. It was bruised badly; the skin was black and deep blue. Blood ran in rivulets from slices in Strider's neck, and blood flowed from parched and cracked lips. A gash on the side of his temple bled sluggishly, and dried blood matted his hair.

Legolas placed an ear next to his friend's heart. He was slightly more at ease when he found that his heart beat, albeit weakly and rapidly. He also heard something else...a strange rattling sound from his friend's chest. Legolas looked behind him as he heard the other horses stop behind him.

"Estel!" Elladan's cry was heart wrenching. Legolas quickly ordered, "Get a cloak from my pack. We need to get him warmed up." Elrohir knelt next to his brother and felt his forehead. "But he's burning up!" Legolas nodded. He carefully picked up his friend and leaned him against his chest, carefully minding the wounds on his back. He brushed the hair from Strider's face and said, "The fever's either from the elements or orc poison." Elladan, hurrying up to them, murmured, "Or both." Legolas silently agreed.

With Elladan's help, the elf prince carefully wrapped the cloak around his friend. They moved his right arm and Strider moaned. He tried to shy away, but he hadn't the strength. Legolas quickly whispered to him in Elvish. "Uuma dela, Strider. Esta. Amin anta lle est." The man moaned once more before slipping into a delirious sleep. Legolas quickly finished bundling him up. He stood and found the man was considerably lighter than when he'd seen him last. "The orcs didn't feed him. We'll need to get him to eat."

Elladan nodded. "First, let's get him to my father." Legolas walked up to Myaven, who sensed that Legolas needed a small amount of assistance. She lay down in the snow, making it easy for Legolas to mount. The elf smiled and set Strider carefully in the saddle and sat behind him.

Wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him on the horse, Legolas grabbed the reigns with his other hand and nickered to his horse. Myaven stood carefully, aware of her precious cargo. Elladan and Elrohir mounted their horses, concern and worry etched on their faces. "Will he make it?" Legolas looked at Elrohir and said, "There's only one way to find out." He kicked his horse in the ribs and the trio streaked into the distance.

"Where are they? They've been gone nearly two hours!" Mithrandir shook his head at his friend's impatience. "Be calm, mellon nin. They will arrive soon." As if on cue, there was the sound of horse hooves in the immediate vicinity. Elrond stopped pacing in the snow and looked towards the sound, expectantly. When he saw the three horses coming towards them, he almost sighed in relief. However, that quickly passed.

Legolas came first and pulled to a stop. In his arms was Estel. Elrond backed away to allow Legolas the chance to get off his horse, and moved forward to help with Estel. "Mani marte? Is he alive?" Legolas nodded, not bothering to hide his fear. "But barely. He's injured badly, Elrond." The elf king nodded and turned to Elladan and Elrohir, who'd just ridden up and were dismounting. "Did you run into any trouble?"

Elladan shook his head. "We found one orc, mortally wounded, who told us that Estel was dead. We tracked them to where they left Estel." Mithrandir asked, "What about the rest?" Elrohir supplied, "They were attacked by wolves, hungry ones at that. I don't think they had a chance."

Elrond turned his attention to Legolas. The elf had sat down in the snow and had his arms around Strider. The ranger was shaking in the cloak, either from cold or fever, Elrond could not tell. The elf lord moved to his son's side and carefully pulled back the cloak. The sight took his breath away. Burns, blood, and bruises were painfully obvious on the white of Strider's skin, and Elrond shook his head. "He never does anything half way, does he?"

They were all startled by a cough and a painfully whispered, "I heard that." Strider's eyes slid halfway open and they were glazed with pain. "Estel, what happened?" The Ranger's eyes drifted shut and he murmured, "Wanted me...my heritage." Elrond shook his head in grief. "Your bloodline has brought them to this."

Strider's eyes drifted open once more before they slid shut again. His head rolled to the side and he went limp in Legolas' arms. The elf prince hurried to find a pulse and shook his head. "He's extremely weak. We must get him back to an Elven city." Mithrandir sat silently for a moment before saying, "Mirkwood is closer than Rivendell and Trollshaws. We should head there with haste."

Elrond nodded and turned back to Strider. "First we must tend his injuries best we can." Legolas carefully scooted from behind Strider and laid him down on the cloak. "Elladan, start a fire. Elrohir, gather firewood. Legolas, you stay here. He seems to calm in your presence. Mithrandir, I'll need your help." The Istar nodded and kneeled next to the Elven king. He quietly said, "We need to reset his shoulder first." Elrond nodded and grabbed Strider's arm and with a quick yank, popped the joint back into place. Strider's eyes snapped open and he cried out, his hand reaching for the limb.

However, Elrond saw it coming and nodded his approval as Legolas gently grabbed the ranger's hand and held it down. Elrond's stare took in the massive amount of blood on his youngest son's hand and he quickly took the limb. He wiped away some of the blood with a cloth and inhaled sharply. There was a hole, going all he way through Strider's left hand, and it was bleeding profusely. With horror on his features, Elrond wrapped the cloth around Strider's hand and ordered, "Legolas, press this against the wound firmly. We can't let him bleed to death."

The other elf nodded and took the hand in both of his, holding it firmly. Mithrandir pointed towards the blackness around the shoulder wound. "It was poisoned, though it looks like fairly basic orc poison." Elrond looked behind him as Elladan got a fire going and nodded at Elrohir's stack of firewood. "Elladan, put on a pot of water, please. Elrohir, get some Athelas from my saddlebag. In fact, bring the entire thing over here." The two twins nodded and set to their tasks.

Elrond noticed, however, that Elrohir's hands were shaking fiercely. "Elrohir, I need you to focus." The younger twin looked at his father with wide eyes. "They said they...he screamed. They made him scream." Elrond looked down at the ranger and closed his eyes in despair. Strider was notorious for not revealing his pain; a side effect, if you will, of growing up with elves that had a greater capacity for pain than he. "What did they do to you, Estel?"

The answers were not forthcoming.

Legolas paced the perimeter of the camp tiredly, but was too restless to sleep. Every other second, his eyes drifted to his friend. Elrond was leaning over Strider, whispering to him, finishing up some much-needed first aid. Mithrandir was brewing some sort of tea that would help Strider with the pain. Elladan and Elrohir were sitting near the fire, watching their brother and father with scared eyes. Finally, Legolas walked back over to Elrond. "How is he?"

The elder elf turned weary eyes towards Legolas. "Not well, my prince. I fear he's slipped into a deep, unbreakable sleep, as a result of the trauma his body's gone through, and a result of the poison and fever raging through him. I have done all I can for his injuries, but we need to get him to Mirkwood, for your realm has healers that have immense healing capacities." Legolas sat down and gripped his friend's uninjured hand carefully. "What of his wounds?"

Elrond shook his head. "The burns on his chest are deep and painful, and will scar. He has several broken and cracked ribs, though none of them pierced his lungs. His hand will heal, given time, and it, too, will scar. His windpipe was damaged, and he will have difficulty breathing for a while, but there should be no permanent damage. The same goes for his shoulder. As for his bruises, they will heal in time. But the scars will leave reminders of what happened this week." Legolas shook his head and brushed a lock of hair from Strider's face.

"He should never have gone through that." His tone held no anger towards Elrond, but any foes from Mordor would've fallen dead from his words. "All because of his heritage, his name! It does not matter who he is in character, all that matters to anyone is his lineage." A pause, then, "Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor and lord of the Dunédain." Legolas turned helpless eyes towards Elrond. "I would not have him suffer over his title!" Elrond placed a comforting hand on Legolas' shoulder. "He has a destiny, Legolas, which neither you nor I can change. Sooner or later he will have to face that which he fears. Both the past, and the future."

Strider sat unconscious in front of Legolas. The prince had his arms around his friend, preventing them from falling off, as they raced through the Wild. Every once in awhile, one of Legolas' hands would travel to Strider's throat, searching for a pulse, assuring him that his friend was still with him. Elladan and Elrohir had gone on ahead earlier that night, to warn Mirkwood of the situation and also to clear the way of any orcs that happened to be patrolling. Legolas and Elrond had been riding for only ten hours and already they'd passed two piles of dead orcs. Suddenly, Legolas looked down as Strider moaned. He pulled Myaven to a stop and called, "Elrond! He's awakening!"

The elf lord was a their side in a flash. "I'd hoped the drug I gave him would keep him unconscious for the journey." Legolas slid from his horse and helped Elrond ease Strider to the ground. The ranger was sweating and shivering, his eyes tightly shut. "My friend, open your eyes." Strider's eyes opened slowly, and they were glassy with fever. "Leg'las?" The elf quickly hushed him.

"Don't speak, Strider. You're still grievously injured." Elrond said, "Rest, Estel. We're taking you to the realm of Thranduíl." At Elrond's voice, Strider's eyes widened and he looked around fervidly. "Ada?" Elrond knelt next to his son and stroked his face gently. "I am here, my son. Peace." Strider shook his head, causing him to moan in agony. "You can't be here!" A gasp for air, then Strider whispered, "Dream..." Legolas felt tears prick his eyes. "Why, Strider? Why can't he be here? Why is this a dream?" Strider's eyes drifted shut and he mumbled, "Ada hates me."

His head rolled to the side and his breathing was labored as he lost consciousness. Elrond's mouth hung open, taking in his son's words. "He thinks I hate him." Legolas shook his head. "He's delirious, Elrond." The elf lord looked at Legolas and grimly said, "All things spoken in delirium have some base, Legolas." Silence. "Let's hurry on our way. I fear the fever's rising." Legolas nodded and, with Elrond's help, was once again seated behind Strider on Myaven. The two elves took off, unaware as a pair of eyes watched them from the trees.

As the elves left the small clearing, three elves suddenly dropped from the trees. Two had bows aimed in the direction of the retreating horses, and one asked the third, "Shall we fire, sir?" The leader shook his head. "No. I know not who they are, but I feel that they are allies, or at least potential allies." The elves nodded and lowered their bows. They continued on their trek back to their home, but the leader paused and turned to look in the distance of the two riders. "A strange thing, for those two elves to have such a relationship with a mortal. I wonder who they are." One of the other elves stopped and asked, "You did not recognize any of them?" The leader shook his head, and the third said, "Haldir, I'm sure their purpose in life will be revealed if you have any future with them." The blonde haired elf captain turned and nodded. "You are right. Come, let us get home to Lóthlórien. 'Tis been long since we've seen our king and queen."

Translations:

Uuma dela, Strider.- Don't worry, Strider.

Esta- Rest

Amin anta lle est.-I need you to rest

Mani marte- What happened?

Adan- human
Estel lasta an enni- Estel listen to me
tithen pen- little one
tithen gwador- little brother
ion nin- My son
post mae- rest well

Brannon nin- My lord

Mellon nin- My friend
Ada- Father

I AM SO SORRY THIS CHAPPIE TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT! FORGIVE ME!!!!!!!