Carrie-

LOL, you couldn't scare me away even if you tried. Writing with you all this time has taught me a few things about your weird moods.

You did get chapter 4 from me, and the story idea, right? Haven't heard from you in a while.

You have good vision, if only Legolas, Estel, and the twins did as well, then maybe they could avoid a few injuries. What do you think?

A lot of people seemed to like that last line. And yes, Legolas did answer correctly. In a sense

Just wanted to make sure Estel is suffering just to annoy you, and pay you back for what you do to my Legolas.


Lock Owl-

Why if things were that easy then there wouldn't be anything to write about. It's the difficulties that make a story worth reading. Witty Elf, I could use that against him. But no it is not very reassuring to hear that.

Tell Balthasar hi, and that I hope everything is well with her, and to lay of the NyQuil, that stuff can really mess you up sometimes, trust me I know =D)

ThE iNsAnE oNe-

Poor iNsAnE oNe stuck with the peanut gallery

E&E&A&L: Hey!


Estel: Prissy elf.
Legolas: Stupid human.
Estel: Dwarf lover.
Legolas: *scowls* That's low, even for you Estel.

LOL, I love that! Well at least Estel knows how to get at Legolas.


Kellen-

Truly you've said that before? I've been lost before, in the forest with my friend. Only for about 10, 15 minutes, it wasn't very big, but it was the last time we took a detour during hiking. We stick to the path now.

Anita-

Could I pretty please have my Elves and edan back? That way I can work on the next chapter.

Wonder how they will all react to all the technology?

Artemisa-

Elf torture? Hehe, well maybe…

Chapter: 3

A Fatal Error

It was well past morning when the small group finally awoke. The men were returning from hunting in the western forests, the dry weather forcing the game further west than normal. Usual they hunted off to their east, sometimes due south, but the plains had dried up quickly, much faster than any of them had anticipated. They rose slowly to their feet, only a few, while the rest still lie lazily on the ground, turning their faces toward the warm flames.

They were a fairly small group, hardly ever did they travel in such diminutive numbers, a total of seven. It was agreed that hunting would have been easier in a smaller group, since the prey was skittish. They could move quicker and quieter, and hopefully get close enough to be able to fire a decent shot.

"Come on men, the sooner we leave the quicker we get home," Venon said, stepping carefully over the few who still slept, or those who seemed to be at least.

He was tall for his age, and it was surprising to see such a young man as a captain, even if it was only for a hunting party. His blue eyes flicked wordlessly over the camp, the group of men were moving as if in slow motion. For the last few days they had traveled hard, last night was one of the few restful ones.

"Aye, and we would get their much faster if we had our horses," Nel stated, sitting up.

The gray blanket he had tucked around his shoulders fell off at his sudden movement. He was in fact the youngest of men, a boy more than a man, being only 15, but his hunting skills were excellent. He watched Venon with dark brown eyes, wondering if the captain had even heard him. Finally he responded, his voice smooth and unbroken.

"I am not responsible for the loss of the horses."

"We best hope they made it back, they had all the meat, plus our food supply and I'm starving," Nel complained, as he rolled his blanket back up into a roll.

"You're a huntsman Nel, if you're at all hungry you can provide for yourself, just like the rest of us," Hanol informed him from across the fire. "Besides, the town's probably feasting right now if I know those horses, which I do if you need reminding."

Hanol was one of the most respected members of the small group. Though far older than he looked, youth still shone brightly in his smooth face. He had far more experience than the others did, and many looked to him for advice, even Venon.

Nel scowled, "What is there to hunt in this barren wasteland? I thought the Elves took care of their land."

"This land does not belong to the Elves Nel. If they did we would not be passing through it," Hanol replied. "This land used to belong to them, but too many evils spread across it over the years and they finally let it go. The land belongs to no one now."

Nel snorted, but did not reply as he stood. Somehow he seemed to always be getting into trouble, either some form of danger or an argument with and elder, which sometimes was far more dangerous than all the evils in the world bound together.

Over the short years of his young life, he was finally beginning to learn to hold his tongue at certain points, but he had yet to learn when that point was. He was constantly pressing his luck here and there, moving and doing what he believed to be right when he believed the time had come. And in the end he nearly always paid.

"Don't forget to put the fire out Nel," Venon told him as he watched over the camp.

"Why am I responsible for it?" he questioned.

"Because, you are the furthest behind, the others are ready to leave as of now."

"I'll wait, you go on ahead. I know the way back home," Hanol told him quietly, leaning against the tree.

Venon nodded, calling out the others as he led the way.

The group cleared quickly, but the youngster still moved slowly, and soon found himself alone with the elder man. Hanol waited behind patiently for the young hunter to finish packing, it seemed as if he was moving slow for a purpose, but Hanol did not press him.

Finishing Nel threw a few handfuls of loose dirt onto the soft dancing flames, before grabbing his pack and stumbling over to Hanol's side. The hunter was staring into the forest when he arrived.

"Is the fire out?" Hanol asked without glancing at the young man.

"Yes, yes, let us go," Nel grumbled, pushing past the hunter. The last thing he needed was a lecture, and he wasn't going to give him any chance to start one.

But even as they left, the flames from the fire pushed through the loose dust, fighting for air. Unseen a small cloth like fabric floated to the ground, loosened from someone's pack, settling near the burning flames. They gobbled up the added source within moments, the flames dancing with deathly height as they continued to grow.

The two hunters who trailed behind disappeared from sight as the fire engulfed the campsite within its fiery claws.

*~*~*~*

With a sigh Aragorn leaned weakly against a tree. If the sun had not been hidden by the clouds it would have hung highly above them, singling the beginning of afternoon. Legolas did not reply to the adan's weary sigh, pondering instead on how they could have ended up so lost.

"Legolas, I need to rest," Aragorn groaned softly as he eased himself down. A slight fever still hung with him, but for the most part it was not bothersome. More in likely it would cease on it's own, as long as he didn't push himself too much.

The Elf knew that Aragorn was tired, he could see it in the human's sliver eyes. The fact that Legolas could not find the way back to Rivendell rested heavily on his nerves. True these woods were not a part of Rivendell, and he had never traveled through them, but Legolas still felt as if he should know the way.

"Rest then," Legolas told him quietly, "walking around surely isn't helping us."

Aragorn watched the Elf through weary eyes, sometimes the Elf could get on his nerves, and quickly. But for the most part he realized that they indeed were friends. He could remember back to when he was younger, when the other Elves of Rivendell did not accept him. He was always too clumsy, or slow. It didn't matter what he did, there was always something that he just wasn't good enough at.

There had been an instance or twice when he had fled from home in shame, now that he was older he looked upon his actions in mortification, vowing that he would never perform such an act again. He smiled wryly at the fact that even though he vowed time after time not to do it again, he still had. And the reality that an unpleasant Elrond would be awaiting him when he returned did not make him feel any better.

A sharp twinge in his arm brought him from his thoughts. Legolas held the ranger's arm in his hands, probing the skin lightly as he eased the sleeve up carefully. Aragorn tried to pull his arm away, but the Elf tightened his grip, causing the young man to stop the struggle almost immediately as pain shot through his aggravated muscles.

"It's not broken," Legolas told him quietly, "But I do believe it is infected," he finished, trailing a finger just over the open cut. Using one hand Legolas worked the flask of water from his belt. Tearing a small piece of fabric from his tunic the Elf took care in wiping the wound.

Aragorn grimaced as the cloth passed over the laceration, but did not pull away. He was surprised rather when Legolas let out a sharp hiss.

"What is it?" Aragorn questioned, even though he didn't really want to know.

"It closed over," the Elf said quietly, examining the inflamed flesh.

Aragorn groaned letting his head drop against he rough bark of the tree. He knew that he didn't want to know. If the wound was infected, then it needed to bleed, or it would spread. Loosening the small knife from his boot Legolas spoke softly to the ranger.

"It's going to hurt," Legolas warned him, "I won't lie to you. I don't have any herbs or drugs that will lessen the pain, and if we wait it will be a lot worse, perhaps beyond repair."

Aragorn nodded. He had not dealt with something like this before, but there had been a case where Elladan had been attacked by a warg during a hunting trip. Aragorn was very young at the time. The Elf had made it through the ordeal unscathed, or so they thought. Elrond had found him the morning after, fighting a deathly fever.

It turned out that the beast was able to get a claw into Elladan's leg. His brother had been able to hide it well, cleaning under the darkness of night. Despite his efforts the wound still became infected, and by morning it had closed over. Even though Elrond gave him something to dull the pain, Aragorn still remembered how his elder brother cried out in pain.

And now he wouldn't even get the luxury of pain medication.

Legolas cursed at himself. He should have taken care to watch the wound during the night. It seemed fine when he first checked it. But apparently it wasn't so.

Gripping Aragorn's arm gently, Legolas watched the ranger until he opened his eyes. "Are you ready?"

"Just do it," Aragorn gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes.

Legolas nodded, "On the count of five."

Quietly Legolas began to count, but when he reached the count of two he drug the knife quickly along the cut. Aragorn's voice broke out in a stifled cry as the blade cut through the partly dead flesh, reopening the wound and allowing blood to spill down his arm. His other armed drifted upward as he gripped the Elf's left forearm, squeezing as the pain flared.

With a quick motion, Legolas flushed out the wound with the little water they had left, allowing it to bleed for a moment longer. Aragorn let his head rest upon Legolas' shoulder as he slowed his pained breathing. Using the strip of cloth Legolas wrapped the wound carefully, binding it tightly enough to slow the bleeding, and yet allow circulation in his arm.

"You said five," Aragorn's voice was soft and muffled by the Elf's tunic.

"At five you would have been tense, and the process would have been more painful. That way I caught you while you were relaxed."

"Dûredhel," Aragorn spat quietly through closed teeth.

Legolas laughed lightly, helping the ranger sit up. "I think not my friend. They are quite worse than I."

Aragorn glanced up at him, smiling despite the pain. "And, pray tell, how would you know?"

"I've been around a lot longer than you adan," Legolas told him standing up.

Aragorn only nodded as he closed his eyes, much to weary to argue. His arm still hurt thoroughly, but now it was manageable pain. Breathing in deeply he tried to force his body to relax, but something halted his movements. Breathing in again he opened eyes.

Legolas was watching him closely. "What is it?"

"Do you smell that?" Aragorn questioned as he pulled himself carefully to his feet, pushing aside his weariness.

Inhaling deeply the Elf's eyes drifted closed. After a moment, he nodded, opening his eyes. "Smoke."

The ranger nodded, "Perchance the Twins?"

Legolas shrugged, "I don't know, but where there's a campfire, there is bound to be someone, and that alone is enough encouragement."

TBC

adan- man

Dûredhel- Dark Elf