Vampy2k: Hey, your review showed up after I had already posted. Sorry. Glad you enjoy. Twins? Twins? Um, nope. No twins. But everybody gets to have fun in the next story. *g*
NaughtyNat: Heh heh. *blinks slightly as NaughtyNat whirls around her head then zooms out to the horizon and disappears* *stares down at the articles dropped in her hands* Uh, thanks. *g* Gotta get the speed limit sign put up. Unh, you have beleated permission to share your thoughts for those other stories you found here. Glad the image of Aragorn is attractive. *smiles wickedly*
Bill the Pony: Angst is very close. If not this one, then the next one. Promise. I can tell by the title. *g* What's WWE? Haven't seen that before.
Grumpy: The twins . . . Return in the next story. Everything that happens, starting with False Reality, leads there. They may wish they were left out of though. *g* They would not tell me what was going on in Mirkwood. *frowns* Stubborn Elves. Them and their secrets. A festival of some sort, though Thranduil was more than happy to send them out. Maybe he should have been less eager. *looks thoughtful, then shakes self* Hem, the rock . . . *tries to look innocent* Well. . . .
Onto the next chapter! Don't shoot me for the humor. Please.
Enjoy and review! Or if you want, review and enjoy! Lol. Sorry, read on.
Chapter 7
Trouble Comes in Twos
"Aragorn, would you stop singing," Legolas grumbled as they walked, glancing back over his shoulder in time to see the ranger stick out his tongue. "You're going to scare all the game away."
"Hmph," he responded. "That haughty elven pride is just as strong as ever, I see."
"Better than your singing," came the expected retort.
The young man laughed. "Then, by all means, relieve me of my burden," he told the prince with an exaggerated bow.
Legolas slowed to walk next to him, favoring his friend with a regretful look. "I am afraid, mellon nin, that you would miss your tongue too much if I were to do that."
Aragorn blinked, then shoved his friend away, both laughing. "You wouldn't dare!" the ranger exclaimed. The elf just smiled wickedly.
They had left the palace quickly after securing permission from King Thranduil and rations for lunch, as they believed no success would befall them in time for the noonday meal since it was already almost noon when they left and they were not particularly worried about catching anything in the first place.
The companions had quickly made their way deeper into the forest, the light of the sun not even coming close to breaking the canopy that hung above them, the chill of winter even stronger under the boughs for that fact. Aragorn was glad he had brought his overcoat and wrapped it around him for warmth when chill breezes snaked through the trees to find his thin form.
Both glanced down when they heard a faint rumble, two sets of eyes fixing on Aragorn's stomach. Amused blue eyes ascended to meet the man's gaze. "It seems your stomach has betrayed you, my friend," the elf said.
"Indeed," he agreed. "One day it shall be the death of me."
Legolas snorted. "Death by hunger is one way I doubt you shall ever have opportunity to try. Orcs are more likely to get you first." Ahead of the ranger once again, the elf glanced back, a wicked smile on his face. "That is, of course, unless you still shoot like a girl."
The Dúnadan lunged at his friend, rising to the bait, his newfound peace enabling him to greatly enjoy the friendly banter. The elf ran, and he gave chase, managing to keep pace with the nimble being far better than many, even of his kindred, could boast.
Then the elf dropped out of sight and Aragorn paused where he had last seen him, glancing around curiously. There were a couple of good sized stones and a fallen log. He took a couple steps further in, searching the ground for any hint as to where the elf had gone. He found none, and a frown pulled at his lips. It was as if he had simply disappeared. Or flown.
He looked up. Nothing presented itself to his gaze, and he turned in a complete circle while his eyes scanned the trees. Spotting a wood-elf in a tree when he did not wish to be found was basically a futile exercise, but he had to try. Nothing.
He turned and examined the path he had followed, noting the barely perceptible prints the elf had left up until this point, a couple erased by Aragorn's own heavier tread.
Perhaps the elf had jumped onto one of the stones to avoid leaving behind a trail. He turned--and jumped back, hand automatically going for his sword before his mind could even register what had surprised him.
Far closer than he would have imagined, was Legolas. The elf had an inane grin on his face and looked to be hard pressed not to burst out laughing. Aragorn quickly regained his balance and removed his hand from his sword hilt, attempting to glare at the fair-haired prince.
The other's smile just widened in response, and the elf prince turned and swept out a hand to indicate the dubious clearing. "I think this is a nice place."
"Lovely," the ranger murmured, still watching the elf expectantly.
"Oh good," Legolas said, almost skipping over to a nearby rock and sitting down, swinging his pack around before him and beginning to dig through it.
Aragorn watched, vaguely entertained, as the elf unpacked, repacked, and unpacked, only to repack yet again without leaving anything behind. The absurdity of the motions, along with youthful curiosity, prodded him to inquire. "Legolas," he called. The elf looked up, momentarily halting his motions. "What are you doing?"
He blinked, then smiled brightly, the abrupt change something he had only seen among the females he had little experience with. "Why waiting for you, of course!"
It was Aragorn's turn to blink, as his mind uselessly scrambled for an explanation the elf did not seem fit to give. "Oh, of course," he agreed weakly. He watched as Legolas went back to his recent preoccupation, seemingly absorbed in the task. After a few moments of this, he spoke again. "Waiting for me to do what?"
Legolas laughed. "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask!"
"You were," Aragorn agreed uncertainly, just as confused by this as he had been by his friend's seeming preoccupation with actions he remembered a human infant doing: picking up his toys and putting them up, only to take them right back out, then repeat the whole process endlessly.
Aragorn's stomach growled again, and the elf smirked. "We're here to eat lunch."
"Oh."
He did not move. Legolas had looked down at his pronouncement, finally seeing fit to truly unpack his lunch and only his lunch so he could eat, and rearranging everything else inside his bag the way it was supposed to be.
After several moments, he looked back up, suddenly aware that the ranger had not moved from his position on the edge of the clearing and was still staring at him like he had lost his head. He cocked an eyebrow. "Something wrong?" he asked.
"No," the ranger replied, completely unconcerned.
The elf nodded, expecting Aragorn would come sit down, but the human did not move, nor did his expression change. He stared back at his friend for several moments. Finally, "Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"
"Sure," was the careless reply.
Legolas frowned slightly. What was Strider doing? It was not like the man to not eat, and yet he had problems. Maybe if he ate, then his friend would. Satisfied with his reasoning, the elf prince returned to his meal, pulling out a loaf of bread, which was torn in shreds before being deposited in the fair being's mouth. He did his best to ignore the unwavering gaze of his human friend.
Several minutes passed, while Legolas studiously ignored his friend to continue eating and Aragorn simply stared at the elf, a statue save for the shallow movement of his chest and the occasional blink of his eyes.
Finally, though, the elf could stand it no longer and looked up, the absolute stillness of his human friend, who was normally so annoyingly irrepressible, getting to him. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
To his surprise, the human smiled and calmly moved over to a different rock and sat down, pulling out his own food. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied, his smile widening as he glanced at the elf out of the corner of his eye.
Legolas' mouth dropped open. Then he closed it and glared at the human. "You're incorrigible," he announced with a resigned sigh.
Aragorn looked up, piece of meat hanging from his lips, which was quickly pulled inside with his tongue and swallowed. "I'm Adan," he said in response, as if that should be obvious.
A strangled laugh sputtered past Legolas' lips, sounding more like the prince was choking than laughing. He returned his attention to his food, not trusting himself to look at the ranger without laughing. "Yes, that must be it."
The rest of their meal was conducted in amused silence, each content to let the quiet be.
Eventually, though, both finished; Aragorn concluding first despite his late start for he ate faster than the elf, who was continually bemused by his eating habits and the speed with which he consumed his food.
The lithe being would have attributed it to a human thing had not he witnessed the twins' eating habits, and unless such an eating style was contagious, then the sons of Elrond were just as bad as Aragorn about practically inhaling their food instead of truly eating it, a feat which requires one to chew their food.
Thus it was that Legolas was gifted with the ranger's unwavering regard for a second time that day in less than an hour.
He smiled without looking up. "Do you see something you like?" he inquired, his voice quite serious despite the smile.
Aragorn tilted his head slightly to the side as he considered the question, and how he wanted to answer, though he never removed his intense gaze from his friend. Then an idea struck him. A slow smile stole across his face. "Actually, I was just thinking of something Elladan mentioned a while ago," he hedged.
Legolas looked up, one eyebrow raised in silent question, curiosity momentarily over-riding common sense; anything having to do with one of the twins was better not pursued, he had learned. He supposed both his father and Lord Elrond would find some way to work in a comment about his youth if they knew he knew better and still asked.
"I thought it rather odd. . . . But then, you know Elladan. When he has a mind to, he has rather, um, eccentric ideas. Of course, whether or not Elrohir has more eccentric ideas is easily up for debate, especially since he was the one to propose that horrid escapade through the Midgewater Marshes when I was fifteen, or the Alligator glades when I was sixteen.
"I can't imagine why he decided I needed to see either of those places, but I suppose I learned something from them. I learned Midges are annoying and bite, and that their bites itch terribly; and that Alligator's will more or less leave you alone unless you approach a nest or they're hungry."
"Strider," Legolas interrupted before the human could go on.
Aragorn blinked as if he had just realized the elf was there, even though he had been staring at him since the tirade started. "Yes?"
"I'm finished. Perhaps we should content our hunt?"
"Oh," the ranger said, looking thoughtful. "Yes, that might be a good idea." He jumped up, quickly sticking the cloth wraps back in his bag and hitched it over his shoulder. "So where to?"
Legolas, meanwhile, had not moved, but was staring at his friend oddly. Aragorn turned to look at him and raised his own eyebrow. The elf said, "Are you feeling okay, Aragorn?"
"Fine. Why?"
"I don't know," the elf dismissed, standing up. "You're just--" He cut off abruptly as a thought occurred to him, a thought that should have occurred to him before. He glared at the human. "Not funny, Strider." He stalked away into the surrounding trees.
The ranger tried unsuccessfully to suppress his growing smile. "What?" he asked as he followed the elf.
The fair being merely shook his head, muttering something about the Valar punishing undeserving elves with human companions. Overhearing his companion's remarks, Aragorn's only response was to laugh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
They bantered back and forth sporadically throughout the evening, Aragorn's heart lighter than it had been in months, even before his experience with the Ungwale. The ranger had never realized how much being away from his friend effected him. Now, though, he was glad he could spend this time with the elf prince.
But as all good things, it could not last; and peace around the ranger was more fleeting than a spring shower.
It was nearly dusk, with the sun (if they had been able to see it) just caressing the tops of the trees in the west, saying its last farewell for the day, and the elf and ranger had traveled many miles from the palace in their quiet wanderings. With the swift approach of night, they decided to turn back.
Two steps later, they froze. A piercing howl split the air, chasing away the calm that had settled around the two despite the shadows, despite the evil they knew to inhabit the far reaches of Mirkwood.
The friends glanced at each other, eyes wide in the gathering gloom. "Wolves," Legolas hissed. Aragorn nodded, hand going to the hilt of his sword as he looked around. The elf drew his bow, stringing it quickly and notching an arrow.
"Where are they?" the ranger hissed back, his gaze darting back and forth, just before another howl split the air, this time seeming to come from the opposite direction.
"I don't know," the elf replied. "But I fear they surround us."
Aragorn pulled his sword, the metal ringing as it was pulled from the scabbard. There was another howl, closely followed by two more distinct from the first, evidencing the elf prince's claim. There were times when it was better to be wrong.
Yet the wolves still had not shown themselves, and the trees that surrounded the companions were tall and menacing as they conspired to block view of the attackers hidden somewhere out of sight; though perhaps the tree blocked the elf and human from view as well.
The ranger shifted slightly, turning his back toward the elf to more effectively defend the pair and ensure there was no way for the beasts to attack unseen. Another chorus of howls spilt the air, closer this time, quickly joined by the eerie sense of being watched. The hair at the back of the ranger's neck stood on end as if a static charge had passed over it and a shudder ran up his spine. His grip tightened on his sword hilt before nervously shifting the weapon in his hands, as the silence that followed the howls seemed to press in on him.
He scowled slightly as an increasingly familiar feeling of panic rose in his throat. Ruthlessly, he pushed it back down. They were just wolves, fierce beasts, but no more intelligent than any other creature, and not as dangerous as the wargs. He set himself to wait. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he did not have to wait long.
The first wolf stalked out of the clearing directly in front of Aragorn, quickly followed by another dozen, who stepped out from the trees at various intervals. Their teeth were bared, the sharp canines glistening slightly despite the poor light. Their thin forms showed off the bones in their back and hips; they were starving.
The two friends glanced at each other. The wolves were on the last legs of their life. Soon, they would no longer have the strength to hunt, and they would be dead. The beasts' situation pulled at the young man's heart, never mind that the wolves wanted him for dinner.
Then one leapt. Legolas' arrow shot out, catching the walking skeleton in the throat and dropping it quickly, never more to move.
That, apparently, had been the signal to move, for another four leapt forward: two toward Legolas, the other two at the ranger. Arrows quickly found their mark in the skinny hides, though as they fell, others came forward to replace them. Aragorn swung at the beast closet to him, backing the creature off, and wondered why he had grabbed his sword instead of his bow.
The creature surged forward and met the metal blade of his sword, his own momentum driving it through his head. The last sound the creature made was a quiet whimper with his last breath, then he, too, moved no more. A third Aragorn had not seen leapt at his head as the second circled around before him, bearing his fangs and growling. The impact knocked him to the floor, the wolf's claws digging painfully into the flesh of his left arm, his right trapped beneath his body.
He tried to twist over and free his arm, squirming desperately in an attempt to unseat the beast that crouched over him before he could sink his jaws into his unprotected neck. Pain shot up his arm and he hissed, then adrenaline shot through him, the desire to escape, providing the strength he needed to finally move.
The wolf on top of him staggered as he turned, slipping off-balance with the sudden change, his claws sliding down the man's arms and across his chest and legs. The jaws the had been coming for his neck, snapped closed with the surprise of the movement.
Any relief, however, was short lived, for the second beast had taken the man's fall as weakness and jumped forward to get at his own meal, snapping jaws vying for the human's neck. Aragorn saw the sharp claws, but could not move. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and jerked as the sharp teeth connected with his throat, lightly grazing the skin, only to cautiously open them in surprise moments later when said teeth never bit down and ended his life.
Legolas stood over him, stabbing an arrow quickly into the wolf that pinned his legs before stringing that same arrow onto his bow and releasing it into whichever beast happened to be closest to the friends.
The elf bent down and pushed the wolf away from Aragorn's neck, then grabbed his hand and pulled the man to his feet. Three more came and they dispatched them as quickly as they could. The carcasses of nearly a dozen wolves littered the ground around them and still more approached out of the verdure, skin moving loosely across their bones as they stalked forward, desperate hunger showing in their eyes.
The companions backed away warily. Legolas glanced up. "I think, perhaps, it's time we left our friends."
Aragorn nodded, never letting the feral creatures out of his sight. "Did you have a particular location in mind?"
Legolas let loose a string of arrows, felling four more creatures that had come too close and Aragorn beheaded another one who had found the courage, or was simply desperate enough, to charge the beings with sharp objects.
"I've heard the trees are lovely this time of year," Legolas offered, sparing a quick glance for his friend. "What do you think?"
Aragorn risked a glance at the tree behind him, judging the height to the first branch he would have to reach which was just over his head and slanted upwards, maybe eight feet above the ground. He thought he could make it, but knew he had to be sure. He stabbed another beast through the eye, then swung his sword in a wide arc to drive the next creature back. "Shall I follow you?" he asked.
Legolas snorted. "No, I shall follow you."
"Legolas, if you go first, you can cover me from the trees with your bow. If I go first, you must hold them off and jump. It makes more sense if you go," the ranger argued.
The elf shook his head. "The moment I jump, they'll swarm you out of desperation."
"Not if I can join you quickly and you hold them off."
"Aragorn--"
"Come on, Legolas," the young man insisted. "Don't be stubborn. We don't have time for this."
The elf prince snorted again. "Me don't be stubborn," he grumbled indignantly. "You forget who's talking." The nimble being chanced a peek above, gauging the distance and the location, then let loose another volley into the creatures who attacked them.
Before the human could say anything else, the elf jumped, lighting easily on the branch above the human's head, then dancing onto another one, shooting more arrows. Aragorn fended off another two beasts who had gotten past his friend's guard.
"Come on, Strider!" he was bid.
Free for the moment, he bent his knees and jumped, his left hand closing around the limb even as his right slipped because of the sword in his grip. He spun slightly as his weight shifted, held to the tree only by one arm, automatically waving his free hand in an attempt to stop the spin and gain purchase.
His left hand slipped and he looked up, once again coming face-to-face with Legolas. The elf's slender fingers quickly wrapped around his wrist, holding him in place. A growl from below brought the ranger's attention back down in time for him to raise his legs to escape having one of them bitten off.
He twirled his sword in his hand so the blade faced back towards him along his arm, then swung the appendage up for the elf to grab. The other's hand wrapped around his hand and pulled up, consequently drawing the ranger closer to the tree. His feet found purchase on the bark, and between the two of them, they were finally able to get the ranger upon the tree limb, both breathing hard from the effort.
Aragorn had been leaning against the branch on his stomach, sword still gripped tightly in his hand while Legolas leaned against the tree trunk, watching the fierce beasts still on the ground. One or two still jumped at the tree a couple of times before turning to the dead that littered the ground. They fought over the carcasses for meat for supper, angry snarls filling the air, blood splattering as paws came down on the dead when another challenged that one's meal.
Never one to be squeamish at the sight of blood, the spectacle still nauseated the young man and he was forced to look away. He sat up slowly, making sure his balance was good before releasing his tense grip on the branch to return his sword the its sheath. The slight sound of metal scraping could just barely be heard above the cries from below.
He looked to Legolas. "We won't be sleeping in a tree again, will we?" he asked.
The elf tore his gaze away from the frenzy below to gaze at his friend, a smile pulling at his lips. "Why? Don't you want to?"
"After the last time, do you want to?"
Legolas laughed. "It wasn't so bad, Strider." The elf perched on a branch near him so he could face the human without making the man crane his neck all the way around.
Aragorn looked away, a reluctant smile pulling at his own lips. "Yeah, well. That doesn't mean it needs to be repeated." He turned back quickly as his gaze fell on the wolves. "How are you doing on arrows?"
"I'll need some more," the elf prince admitted. "I am running low."
The man snorted, the sound self-derogative, and matched the tone. "I dare say you could use mine, as I tend not to think to use them myself."
Legolas shifted, drawing the man's attention away from where it wandered yet again. "Do not blame yourself for choosing a weapon you are more comfortable with, Strider. The sword is your strength, the bow mine. In uncertainty, we all choose what brings the most comfort."
Aragorn sighed. "As you say," he allowed. Though he could not completely accept the words, at some level they helped. He glanced once more at the wolves beneath him, who were beginning to calm down, their hunger overcoming their aggressiveness. "I think we had best leave, though."
Legolas nodded. "Follow me."
With that, he stood and moved to a different branch. More slowly, Aragorn followed. He stepped onto the branch the elf had just left and paused. "Make sure when you choose your next step, you keep in mind you've got a human behind you."
The elf laughed quietly, a musical sound that did much to erase the shock of the short battle. Carefully, the two beings maneuvered through the trees, each step accomplished by the human after the elf, and before long, they were far enough from the wolves to feel comfortable descending from the boughs.
Once again on solid ground, the two looked around, the light almost completely fled with the time the battle and subsequent escape had taken. Worse, though, was that neither now knew where they were.
"Uh . . ." Aragorn murmured. "Where are we? Better yet, which way to the palace?"
"A good question," Legolas answered just as quietly. "It deserves a better answer than I can give."
Wide eyes turned on the fair being. "We're lost?" he demanded.
The elf glared. "No. We simply don't know how to get where we're going from where we are."
The answer, despite the situation, amused the young man and he chuckled softly. "Well, you know these woods better than I, Legolas. What do you propose?"
The elf frowned, his keen eyes scanning their surroundings, desperate to find anything familiar by which he could direct them. He was not proud to be turned around inside his own home. Somewhere in the battle, he had lost his bearings on where they had come from and which way they were going. It was not something he wanted to admit to Aragorn, no matter how much he counted the other his friend. Still. . . . He sighed. "I do not know what to propose, my friend," he finally admitted. "I have no more of a clue than you. I would be willing to bet I have not come this way in many years, for nothing is familiar, and I cannot recall from whither we came hither. We would do better to take counsel together than rely on my judgments."
Aragorn simply nodded, aware of how much it had taken for his friend to admit that, and willing to respect him by not teasing him about it--at least for now. "Well, we could wait here for the night, and hope morning brings enlightenment, but we have no food and little water. Of course, a hunting party could also stumble across us, but I find that unlikely in light of the fact that this hunt was not necessary in the first place."
Legolas nodded. "And my father will not send out a search party for a little while yet as he is used to us being tardy."
"We could pick a direction and start walking in it, though that has the potential to lead us far astray." The ranger frowned. "It is a choice among evils, it would seem."
"So it is," the elf agreed. "Which evil would you rather face?"
The young man considered in silence for several moments, his face turned away to regard the shadows that surrounded them, just as Legolas had done earlier. These woods, away from the palace, had always given him the creeps, dark and eerie as they were, and the idea of staying put did not appeal to him, yet neither did the prospect of wandering the woods, possibly drawing ever closer to Dol Guldor. He sighed. "I am afraid each strikes me evenly, my friend. Does one option pull you in any direction?"
Legolas smiled wanly. "I would half like to see if we could not find a path," he admitted.
Aragorn nodded, more than willing to seek a path if his friend desired it. He smiled wickedly. "We have another choice now: which direction?"
Legolas chuckled wearily. "The choice made would lead to an even more difficult choice, would it not?" he asked wryly.
"We could spin in circles with our eyes close, point, and then stop and follow which ever direction we pointed in."
The amused horror on the prince's face at that suggestion sent the man into gales of laughter and he collapsed to the floor, only to catch his breath as his wounded shoulder came in touch with the ground. He breathed deeply to dispel the pain, then rolled slowly into a sitting position.
Legolas crouched next to him, his fingers gingerly fingering the cloth to get a view of the other's wounds. "They're not bad," Aragorn denied, pushing the other's hands away.
"Nay, Aragorn, likely they are not," Legolas agreed, but would not be gainsaid. "However, wolves have not the cleanest claws, and I would not see these scratches infected and what was not bad become very bad indeed."
To that, Aragorn had nothing to say and sat quietly while the elf prince tended his wounds, hissing as the tender flesh was cleaned with some of the little water they had left. The ranger took a small sip to assuage some of his thirst and wet his parched throat. Before long, the wounds were clean and bandaged, the friends sitting quietly together before moving on.
Legolas sighed. "Do you have any food left?" he asked.
"Nay," Aragorn answered. His stomach growled.
Legolas chuckled. "Well, I have a bit of meat left and some bread. Mayhap we should split that before continuing our journey, especially since we go into the unknown."
Aragorn nodded and the elf brought our the meager rations, splitting them evenly when Aragorn refused to take a bigger piece, never mind that he was human. Recognizing the obstinate human, tired and sore as he was, was not going to give in, he simply did as he was bid. They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
When they were done, they each took another swallow of their remaining water, and agreed on a direction to traverse the woods in, deciding to follow what appeared to be a long overgrown path, in the hopes that it lead somewhere familiar from which they could regroup and find their true path.
It was now fully dark, and the light Legolas gave off was the only thing that provided any illumination to show their path, dim though it was. Past experience precluded making a fire, even to use as a torch, and silence engulfed them as they trudged through the undergrowth in search of something promising. How much time passed, neither could be sure of, but after what was likely only a few hours, another howl split the air.
Both elf and man froze, blood going cold at the sound, for that was no animal howl, but that of an orc. Somehow, they had come across orcs, which likely meant they were further south than either had ever desired to be, nor been since their last unfortunate trip into the forests of Mirkwood. Ironically, they had gotten lost then, too.
The human moved in close to his friend, standing so that their bodies touched with their backs to each other in an effort not to lose the other in the darkness. "Can you see anything?" Aragorn breathed, the words barely loud enough to be heard, even by the elf.
"No." But both could hear the snapping twigs that could not be accounted for by the passage of small animals, for few of those resided in Mirkwood and the spiders did not break the limbs they traveled on. The sounds echoed from all around them.
"Legolas," Aragorn breathed after a moment. "Who decided, do you think, that the wolves weren't enough?"
"Perhaps the same one who decided a man and an elf would travel together."
"Oh." Then there was a crash and a thud, and Aragorn was born bodily back as something heavy crashed into him, something he did not need to see to identify. He slammed solidly into a tree behind him, his breath escaping him in a whoosh. He ducked instinctively and heard the crash of metal impacting with the tree behind him. He shoved out and heard the orc stumble backwards. Quickly, he unsheathed his sword.
He glanced around, desperate to find Legolas, and managed to pick out his faint glow several feet away. He also saw shadows, more than a dozen, moving among the trees, which he could just barely make out as darker shadows in the black dark.
He swung his sword and felt the blade impact with something solid around neck level, the slight gurgle telling him it had been a living thing. He pulled the sword to him, sliding it along the other object, then turned and stabbed forward into a shadow that approached him, feeling a sword narrowly avoid skewering him the same way.
Suddenly light flowed into the clearing, momentarily blinding the ranger who had been looking around wide-eyed in an attempt to see his opponents. Immediately big moths flew out of the trees and began hurling themselves at the fire, fluttering around the heads of the occupants nearby, and eyes glowed at them from out of the darkness. Neither elf nor man, though, had any attention to spare for either.
Moving quickly, Aragorn dodged a swing from one orc, bringing his sword up to block the blade of another, then backhanded the one and stabbed his sword into the first as the other stumbled backwards. He turned his attention back to the first in time to halt a blow meant to bisect him long-wise and pushed it to the side, pinning his opponent's sword to the ground.
Before he could take advantage of the position, another sword crashed towards him and he was forced to pull away, rolling under the blow and coming up in a crouch a few feet away. He held his blade defensively before him and an overeager orc impaled himself on the long blade. Aragorn pushed the creature back, then charged forward and beheaded another one not quick enough on his feet.
Somewhere in the distance, Aragorn could hear the sing of his friend's elven bow, and knew the prince was taking advantage of the additional light to put his arrows to good use. He wished he had insisted Legolas take his arrows, more so now than before.
He could not dwell on that, though, as another orc came at him, scimitar held high, ready to remove the ranger's head from his body. He ducked under the blow, spinning to place his back to the orc and reversing his hold on his blade, then stabbed it back into the other's chest before pulling it out and swinging it around to sink into the chest of the orc who stood before him.
Fierce anger momentarily burned into the eyes of the Dúnadan as he stared at the orc before him. Then the creature's life fled, and the menace dulled. Aragorn turned to another. How long he fought thus, the ranger could not later recall, but eventually, the orcish menace thinned, dulled, so to speak, and he could once again spare attention for his friend.
Desperate eyes searched the clearing for a glimpse of the elf. They found him engaged with a huge beast, just as stocky as the elf was lithe. The sounds around him disappeared save for the clash of blades; the scuffle of feet, one light the other heavy; the whistling of breath as the two beings before his sight moved. Brute force countered lithe grace and he was hard pressed to say which would win.
Suddenly, though, he was not watching the battle before him, but was back in his dream, facing the inevitable conclusion that Legolas would die, would fall before his opponent. He saw the elf spin, his thin blades countering the heavier blade carried by the orc, sometimes quickly, sometimes just barely, but always there.
Despair pulled at his thoughts, though, as a dread began to pull at his mind, the fear that the dream would become reality, mixing with memories of the elf prince being beaten, his blood spilled for retribution or cruel amusement.
He could not breath. Legolas stepped back, his foot catching on a tree root, and he stumbled, his guard falling for just a moment, a moment he could not afford. The dark scimitar held in the orc's hand flashed forward, connecting with flesh, sinking deeply into his friend's body, wrenching a pained gasp from the fair being's lips as his eyes glazed with shock. The blade was pulled loose and the elf stumbled again, collapsing painfully to his knees.
Aragorn could not move.
"NO!"