Disclaimer: No profit was made, only enjoyment bourn. No offense intended, please enjoy.

Warnings: Hard Pg-13, torture involved. If you don't like, then don't continue on. Thanks!

TEARS

INTRODUCTION

He cringed. It seemed to be all he was capable of doing anymore. Yet he knew it only made it worse. Not only did it make the blows harsher and more punishing, it brought enjoyment to his captors. Once again he pulled deeper into himself, blocking his mind from the onslaught that his body was receiving. It was from here, from this place of disembodiment, that he realized how pitiful and helpless he had become. Once a strong and valiant warrior, he saw himself as a broken and beaten toy. Crumpled onto the cold, stone floor, the remnants of his clothing now torn and soiled from both the grime and blood. His own blood. The life force which these torturers, who now towered once again above him, spilled without mercy. He cringed now, again, as he anticipated the brutality which he knew was to come. His stubborn nature long gone, he now wished he could be wrong for once, but he wasn't.
He witnessed, more than felt, his body being forcefully lifted and thrown against the wall, where the already bloody and rusted chains awaited to bind his emaciated and torn flesh. There he hung, with the chains being his only support, facing his enemy. The lashing of leather, strikes of chain, and piercing of smoldering metal all blended into one immense wave of agony, continuously washing over his body and mind. He felt himself being pulled under. His last thought, though grim, brought what little justification was possible. He had yet to relinquish his last bit of humanity. They could beat his body and torture his mind, and take everything away from him, but never, NEVER, would they take his tears. For tears were sacred to him, only to be shed in the most happiest or desperate of occasions. He had yet to reach that desperation. After what seemed like hours, he returned to the restless darkness that was unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 1

He felt the droplets fall onto his cheeks. He hadn't expected this, and it put him in a foul mood. As Aragorn made his way towards Rivendell, in the rain, he couldn't help but worry. He had originally set out for a visit to Mirkwood, while Arwen had been visiting her father back in Rivendell. But on the way, he had met a party of elves, and the news they brought was not good. Not good at all.

A scout rode up besides him. "Sire, we have sited." "I know. Let them come, they're heading from Mirkwood." He didn't know the reason for this greeting party. It usually wasn't the tradition for elves to come meet travelers. But then again, times had changed. Maybe they were sending an envoy because he was king. No, he laughed at himself, now I am sounding like a pompous ruler. Maybe Arwen was right.

It had been her idea for this vacation, or "dignitary function outside Gondor" as she put it. She practically ordered him to get out of the castle. Not one to argue over such an issue with his wife, he agreed, but only if she too went on a vacation. He met no argument. They agreed to set out the next week, for both had duties that demanded their attention for a bit longer. Then, both with their own parties of soldiers for protection, they had headed out. She for Rivendell, he for Mirkwood. He now found himself slowly riding in a golden field, awaiting the now speedily approaching mounted elves.

"Welcome, Sir Aragorn." He remained mounted, but bowed in that oh so elvish way.
"Is there news? Is there a reason to this meeting?" Aragorn was immediately suspicious, for this was not a common practice. " Is there a problem?"
"I apologize for the manner in which I must bring this to your attention, but when we heard of your approach, we felt it necessary."
He simply waited.
" It seems that while defending our boarders against a mysterious foe, which we have yet to figure out, Prince Legolas was taken."
Stunned, Aragorn sat back into his saddle. " Taken how?"
The elf actually looked uncomfortable. This was a serious matter. " Sire, we have been under attack for many months now, but as I said earlier, we have yet to identify the sources or meaning for these attacks. Many of our outer colonies have fallen victim, but none of their inhabitants taken or killed. Until now." He looked down, not able to meet the king's piercing stare. He must have been a young elf, for his lack of pride allowed such submissive behavior, but as always, it was hard to tell his age. "There have been threats that only one was to be taken, a special one, but until the prince was taken, we didn't know that he was the target of these attacks."

Why him? Aragorn continued to torture himself over this as he rode. Now that his friend was missing, most likely in a great deal of danger, he could only head for Rivendell, hoping for more information than the young elf had been able to give.
His soldiers, noticing his discomfort, kept silent. They knew not to interrupt their leader's thoughts. They continued to ride in the downpour, the men miserable from the rain, the king miserable from his worry.

CHAPTER 2

Lord Elrond sat silent in his chamber. Looking around, he took in the beauty, which he was surrounded by every day, but seemingly more radiant today. That's because he had spent the last few hours talking with his daughter. Everything seemed more brilliant around her. Her inner light seemed to spread to everything and everyone. He noticed that even his servants seemed to go about their business in a lighter manner. Not that they ever complained in the first place, they simply seemed more light- hearted than usual.
He sighed. These were times in which he considered his immortality a gift. When beauty abounded, and worries disappeared. Well, when worries became less. As ruler, he never could really relax, and as immortal, all those worries built up for much longer periods of time than most. Again he sighed.
Letting his mind wander back to Arwen, he got up to go find out where she had run off to, when he heard a polite knock at the chamber door. Before he even could call out, the door swung open and Elrond beheld a site that even his ancient eyes rarely saw. An elf crying. A child elf to be exact. The little one came running in, with her embarrassed mother in tow. The mother dropped to her knee, as was proper, and whispered to the child to return to her, but the child refused. The fear in her eyes was apparent, so Elrond sat down once again and called the child up to him.
Seeming to notice where she was finally, the little girl became suddenly shy, but something was wrong, and she had to tell him.
"What is wrong little one?" Elrond gently questioned, while signaling for the mother to rise. " What is making you cry so?"
" My dreams, they are worse than before. All there is, is darkness and pain."
At this, Elrond quickly recognized the girl as the daughter of a noble family, who had been said to have prophetic dreams. Although some families were known to make up such stories in order to receive acclaim, this child's family was known to be honest and loyal, so he knew not to take this child lightly. " Why have you come to me?"
She had stopped crying, but her cheeks still glistened with her tears. " I thought you could tell me what's wrong. You can help make these dreams go away. Can't you?"
Elrond sat, thinking. He wanted to comfort the distraught child, but if she did have the gift of prophecy, then her dreams could mean something very essential. Then again, they might simply be the nightmares of an overactive imagination. He looked down, and seeing the child's face, immediately felt that the former was most likely true.
" Talya," he responded gently, as that was her name he remembered, " I might be able to help you. But I wonder if you can do something for me." She simply nodded so he continued.
" Talya, it might be hard, but I need you to tell me all about these dreams you have been having." He quickly continued, " They might be very important, and as protector of Rivendell, I need to know as much as possible to help keep it safe for everyone. Do you understand?"
" Yes sire."
He grimaced, for although she agreed in her duty, her eyes betrayed her fear of revisiting those dark hauntings of her sleep. He would have to be very slow and careful in his questioning. Looking down again at the girl, he realized that the mother was still present. She immediately nodded when he directed his questioning gaze towards her. That fear of the dreams was present even in the mother's eyes, because she didn't want her daughter to be hurt anymore, but she also knew her duty.
As did Elrond. And at times like these, he both respected and hated that duty. "Why don't you go get a little snack and wash your face, and come back in an hour or so."
She jumped off his lap and ran to her mother, hugging her leg. They both bowed, turned, and left the chamber. As the doors were shut behind them, he sighed once again. Something was wrong. He had felt a slight disturbance, but had brushed it off as passing orcs and the such. Now he wished he had paid closer attention to the source of his uneasiness. Standing up, he decided to go discuss the matter with Arwen, hoping she could shed some light, both figuratively and literally, on the situation. If it was as serious as he felt it growing to be, then he was going to need as much clarity and light possible in the near future. Leaving the chamber, he didn't notice that although the chamber remained beautiful and light, his own slight glow had dimmed. Dark times were ahead for the ancient ruler, and his participation was to be key for many people's future.

CHAPTER 3

"Oh, look at the poor thing."
Legolas slowly fought his way back through the darkness. He knew what awaited him, the pain, the fear. But he needed to know. He needed to know who this was and why. Ignoring the protests of his body, he forced his eyes to open.
" And now he awakens. How are you feeling elf?" The creature spat his last words. " So, this is how mighty and strong you elves really are. And all this time people have believed those myths of your beauty and light. Wait until you get a look at yourself, Elf.Ha!" Accompanied with a swift kick, this brought the elf's attention to a new height. Using his elven senses he tried to get a bearing of his situation. In his stupor, he had noticed that they were moving him. This new room was just as dark and dank, but with a subtle difference. It was sweltering. The dankness was more from humidity in the air than the dirty water of his last place of imprisonment. Elves weren't normally affected by environmental differences, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of them. And in his weakened state, his awareness was all that more clear. Directing his now focused gaze at the being above him, he decided to get right to the point. "Why am I here?" From the darkness he heard laughter, dark, sick, twisted laughter. " Get right to the point don't we, little one." It was still too dark to make out features, and he was still unable to move, but Legolas kept his gaze upon what or whom he assumed was responsible for his capture and torture. Apparently, his confusion was apparent, for next came, " Don't you recognize me?" At his silence, the thing continued, " I'm the creature of your nightmares, oh prince of light. I have been waiting centuries, readying myself for this fateful moment. I see you're either too dumb to understand, or to weak to grasp my meaning. Perhaps this will refresh your memory." At this the creature leaned forward, staring right into the elf's face and began reciting.

There will come a time Where a special one A hero of eight Who once saved all Will in the end Only lose himself To the darkness and the plight Which his own heart creates For he leads with his light But he blinds with his hate He will fall When all is done And begin again That which he once fought For his light will be dimmed And his purity dashed And evil will replace his goodness And through him a new devil will reawaken To destroy all

Supported by those creatures who had only hours earlier been torturing him, Legolas as last came to understand. He recognized that prophecy. It had been taught long ago, but forgotten by most because of its vagueness. He only remembered it for when the fellowship was united, the number had struck him. Now he feared that vagueness, for he knew not exactly what that evil was.whether it was standing there before him, or whether it was residing inside him. He raised his head to stare directly into the hooded face, yet still couldn't make out any features. Was this darkness solidified in form perhaps? That was nonsense, but why then could he not make it out. The being talked and moved as man, but.man. Could this be another coincidence? Surely not. Too many different thoughts began to whirl around, and he knew that his strength was gone, for he only remained upright because of those claws which dug into his arms. He hoped to be left alone.to think. He would even endure another beating, for then he could think. He didn't want to confront this "darkness" in front of him. " I can see through you weak prince. I know you now doubt yourself. That's a dangerous thing to do, but how can you help it. For you are to be the source of destruction for all. Did you know that. Funny thing, you risked your life to save a world which you are destined to conquer and destroy. Don't look so surprised, you knew it all along. I know you did. For you see.this is all a dream. Oh yes, a dream." Legolas' gaze hardened. " You will soon awaken, and find yourself still chained to that wall, bleeding, dying. But you won't die. Elves are immortal. You suffer as mortals, yet aren't lucky enough to die of the same mortal wounds. How ironic." The thing slapped Legolas to get his attention. The pain was real, even if it was a nightmare. Dreams and nightmares were rare for elves, and often meant that the elf was either gifted in prophecy, or unbalanced in mind. The later had to be true, for Legolas was never a prophet. His state of delirium had to be due to his wounded body. " Again I ask, why am I here?" " You are here to fulfill the prophecy. You were captured so that you could be turned into that which you are destined. Now no more questions, I believe it is time for your next session with your captors." And with that, everything disappeared, and darkness returned.

CHAPTER 4

About to enter the chamber to question Talya, Elrond heard his name called. A messenger walked up to hall towards him. "Sire, King Aragorn has just been sighted entering the gates. The guards say that he brings urgent news and needs to see you immediately. What shall I tell him?"
Elrond's heart dropped. He was a bit surprised, but considering the morning he had been having, he wasn't taken totally off guard. He had been unable to find Arwen, and assumed she had gone off to relax, so he let her be. " Bring him immediately to my chamber. I'm sure he would want to hear what news I can find out." Bowing, the elf turned and went to do Elrond's bidding.
Watching his retreating form, Elrond waited a few moments, then turned and entered the chamber. Seeing him, Talya and her mother quickly stood and dropped to their knees. He motioned them to rise, and upon seeing them felt his heart only drop a little lower. Though they had cleaned up, both still looked very worn. The dilemma must have lasted longer than he had assumed.
" Talya, I'm going to be having a visitor come to help you. He's a close friend of mine, and is very close. You don't need to be scared, ok?" She nodded, wide-eyed. She seemed a bit overwhelmed, but in the same situation at that age, Elrond guessed he would be too. " His name is Aragorn, and he might be able to help us both. When he comes, I need to talk to him alone for a bit, but we will return quickly, so don't worry." He glanced at the mother to make sure she understood. She did.
As if by perfect design, the great chamber doors swung open, and Aragorn entered the chamber alone. He purposefully strode towards Elrond, a greeting on his lips, but then noticed the woman and little girl. He slowed and shot a questioning glace at Elrond, but met a steely gaze and knew not to ask. He followed as the Elf Lord motioned him to a balcony, away from the other two elves.
Once out of earshot.a hard thing for elves.Elrond turned and addressed his friend. " It's been a long time, but why are you here. I'm sure it's not because you miss Arwen so soon."
He gave the elf a slight grin, " If only it was so. It seems we have a problem on our hands, once again, and I fear I need your help in this."
A bit taken aback at the suddenness, Elrond motioned Aragorn to continue.
" As I'm sure Arwen informed you, I was on my way to Mirkwood, on " dignitary purposes" but my troop and I were stopped right a nights ride away from it's borders. It seems Legolas has been captured." He paused, waiting for a response. It wasn't what he was expecting.
" I know. Well, I knew something was awry, but I wasn't quite expecting this." He then went on to explain Talya's presence, and what he was planning. " It's going to be hard on the girl, but if Legolas has been captured as you say, and I don't doubt your word, I fear his situation plays a role in a much bigger danger. I fear another time of great darkness. I have felt it coming for some time, but was foolish in not bothering to hunt down its source. Now it might be too late to help Legolas."
As his dark words sank in, Aragorn glanced back at the little girl and her mother. He had no idea as to how her dreams would have impact on his friend's life, but knowing elves as long as he had, he knew Elrond to be sincere, and the danger true. "Why don't we go back and find out what the girl has seen. Maybe it will help in finding this darkness." What he left unsaid was understood. Where they found that darkness, they were probably going to find their friend.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

Sitting down on the bed, Aragorn felt some of his stresses fade away. Arwen was behind him, gently rubbing his neck and back to get out the knots from his hard ride. He was happy to have her here. Although they had only been separated for a few days, he still missed her. He loved her so dearly, and when he heard of his friend's capture, he felt his heart jump, for he feared also for Arwen. True, there wasn't any link besides both being elves, but love brought with it irrational feelings. He turned around and kissed her lightly.
Arwen had been surprised to learn of her husband's appearance, and at first been a little irritated that he wasn't in Mirkwood, relaxing with his friend in the woods somewhere, but she knew quickly that something was wrong. Both her father and he were acting oddly, talking in hushed whispers with each other, both looking seriously worried. She knew of Talya, and the dreams, but hadn't asked her father any more because it wasn't her place. And if it was something that needed her attention, he would tell her when it was necessary. Elrond was a strong and very competent ruler, and through his many centuries of rule, had gained the skills necessary when it came to information of dire situations.
She didn't doubt that the situation, whatever it might be, was dire either. Aragorn's sudden appearance, Talya's dreams, something had to be linking them. Lost in thought while rubbing his sore muscles, she was brought back to the present when his lips brushed hers. She gazed down into his eyes, seeing his emotions swirling, although his face belied none of them. His life had been hard on him, and that hardness was imprinted on him, and held him captive. But his recent adventures had brought a new level to him, and his eyes now softened at times, and let her see into his soul. There she saw his turmoil, and his pain, but also his love and devotion. Love and devotion for her. She gently returned the kiss, and they both laid down on the bed, content to simply be with each other. There would be plenty to deal with in the morning, but for right now, it was just the two of them, and their love for one another.

CHAPTER 5

Legolas was angry. Angrier than he probably ever was. And he didn't like it. He hung there, bloody, bruised, and broken. But not beaten, and that was what he kept telling himself.
After he was awoken from his dream, he found that there was indeed another session. That's where he found himself now. The metal cuffs actually had by this point worn through is wrists to the muscles, and infection had set in. During one of his more lucid moments between abuses, he had tried to take stock of himself. From what he could tell, every one of his ribs on his right side was either cracked or broken. At least one of his left ribs had broken, for after one particularly brutal hit, the pain was quickly followed by panic, for he couldn't breath. His lung had been punctured. He now had adjusted, but still felt as if he was hyperventilating. Luckily, his legs hadn't been broken, but they had been burnt and bruised and pierced plenty of time, and the infections raging from the multiple wounds was a constant course of pain, even when left alone. He no longer was allowed to lay on the floor, and was left hanging from the wall because his captors had probably tired of having to lift him into position every time. The only movement besides the blows was when they decided to either have him face the wall or them. He now faced the wall. Everything from the back of his neck to the back of his calves was receiving the blows this time. He couldn't imagine a single place on his body not already marred. They now were reopening the whip scares on his back and backside with a burning chain. They liked sick things like that: taking one torture and making it worse. The chains were light enough to be swung hard, but heavy enough to break skin, and even bone in some places, such as his collarbone. But by heating them, when they made contact, they burnt as well. Wryly, he found it ironic, since the burning actually cauterized his wounds, keeping his blood loss minimized, but that thought quickly left as the chains found his already dislocated shoulder. What little broth water they force-fed him did little to keep his strength. He was exhausted, but knew better than to put his head against the wall. When he first tried this, they took advantage and went to beating his upper torso, so as to pound his head into the stones. He quickly learned no to do that again. " Why are you so silent?" A heavy whisper in his ear. He hated their voices, but when they taunted him, at least they couldn't beat him. So he endured their taunts, their threats, their insults. They only angered him more though. He didn't like this anger. He was known to have a temper, but it was slow to rise. Their constant torment was fueling his anger, and it was quickly rising. Then again, in this case, it only made him stronger, but helpless as he was, that strength had nowhere to go. He willed his anger back as another forceful strike hit his lower back. When he got out of here, he wondered if was going to be able to even move himself. He knew that his father probably knew of his capture, he had to by now. He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been held captive since he wasn't always awake or aware. And after his last experience with sleep, he feared going back. All was silent again, the figure besides him had stopped taunting him, but now had decided to try and force some cries out of him. He shut his eyes against the onslaught, for they had abandoned the chains and were now using miniscule daggers. His torturers were almost artistic in their attacks. They didn't stab with them, instead, they traced slicing designs over his body. At least with the chains he had moments between the strikes, but with two beings each wielding a dagger in both hands, he wasn't even allowed that simple rest. As he hung there in total disgrace, enduring their taunting and their torture, the prince of Mirkwood abandoned thought as his body was used as a pale canvas for their blood paints, his blood paint, and again focused on neither crying out or letting his agony fall from his closed lids. Darkness did not come to save him this time.

CHAPTER 6

" So what do you think?" They were both sitting in a garden, off of Elrond's personal chambers. As ruler, he did get special royalties, this garden being one of them. They sat upon a stone bench underneath a canopy of trees. In the middle of the clearing, the was a fountain of stone, so highly polished it gently reflected all the colors of the sunlight which filtered through the leaves above.
" I think that we need to find that being the Tayla seems to keep dreaming of." They had only that morning completed their questioning of the young girl. They hadn't wanted to distress her more than necessary, so they spoke in three different sessions, during three days, until they got all the information possible out of her. It seemed that she had always started out seeing a place as if normal. A field, a river, and forest, they all looked normal. But then a shadow would overtake the land, and amidst that shadow a sickening fog would kill all in its path. She never died herself, for she was an observer, but as death was spread around the land, she always heard a voice, singing, in Elvish. Only the night before she had run to Elrond she had glimpsed the source of that song, and there was a being of pure light. The light spread from his heart, but once outside his chest, turned dark and evil. He was the source of the destruction and death.
What they both left unspoken was the name of whom they assumed was that being. Aragorn only held hope that they could get to him in time, and Elrond that if it was too late, that they could stop him.
Turning to his ancient friend, Aragorn simply stated, " You know what I must do, but I feel that you have a part in this also Elrond. Will you accompany me?"
Elrond thought for a moment. He hadn't left Rivendell for a great while, and hadn't battled for even longer. That wasn't to say he couldn't, for he had kept up his skills through practices and even giving lessons every now and then. But he had settled down, so to speak, thinking that his days of battle were over. Now he was facing a great threat, and his role was apparent. "Aragorn, I shall." Looking relieved, Aragorn turned back. "We must set out soon. I fear that none of Legolas' party will have much to tell us. And the tracks will be long run over, too old to get any real leads. Where do we start?" He pounded his fist against his knee. Frustrated, he got up and began pacing. " I think I know where to begin." Stunned, Aragorn stopped and sat back down. "Where, how?" His gaze focused on something far away from that garden. " There is a prophecy, a long forgotten one, which stated that basically a hero of light, one of eight, was to fall in the end, and his light to bring destruction to all that which he once fought for." Aragorn's eyes widened. "When the fellowship was established, I noticed the similarities in number, but dismissed it for at that time we all had much more pressing matters." At this he looked down. "Again I ignored that which I shouldn't have." He clasped his hands together, placing them on his lap, his gaze still downcast. Aragorn placed his hand upon the ancient elf. " You couldn't have known, and as you already stated, we all had matters more pressing at that time. Don't dwell in the past. You taught me that. Elrond, you are a great friend, a great father, a great ruler. But now, as a friend and ruler, you have a duty to fulfill." Elrond's eyes met the ranger's, and in those eyes Aragorn saw years of suffering and pain. He continued. " Is there any other detail of that prophecy that can tell us for sure where to go?" Now questioned, those eyes quickly hardened, and Aragorn knew that Elrond no longer dwelled on that which he should have done. He would go back to those dark thought many more times, but now was not one of them. " Yes, and I have a suspicion that you won't like where it is." Wryly, he raised an eyebrow and told him. " Is it far?" " Yes and no. If you know how to get there, then no. If you don't, then it's all but impossible to find. I know the general location, but I'll have to rely on your ranger skills to pin point." Laughing slightly, Aragorn nodded. " Of course. And I will have to rely on your knowledge and your directions and your elven abilities, so I seem to have to be relying on you more than you on me." At this, Elrond had to laugh. They sat there in silence, taking in the beauty. "Arwen shall stay here." Before the other could even get a word of resistance out, he continued, " I already have other's in my place and her in Gondor, you don't here." Unable to refute his logic, Elrond simply nodded in consent. At least then Arwen would be safe, and he could be sure about it. He knew what Aragorn was doing, and he appreciated it. "We shall leave early tomorrow morning. I suggest you tell your men so they can prepare." "No." "Excuse me?" Even if a friend, he was a king, as wasn't used to being spoken to as such. "Why not?" "This has to be you and me. I don't know why, but I just know." He himself had been planning on bringing only the fewest number of guards possible, and then sending them back once they reached their destination. But he guessed that between the two of them, that journey would be no longer than a few days and nights. "Are you sure Aragorn? We could send them back once we arrived." "No, trust me. Between us we can protect ourselves just as well as they could, and better without having to worry about others. You couldn't have let yourself go that far," he jibed. " But no, we have to go alone. And no later than tomorrow morn." Again finding himself at a loss for disagreement, the elf replied, " I agree. We shall leave before sunrise. Now I must go ready everything for Arwen. I'll leave you to telling her this business. But do not mention our nature. I'm sure she has an idea, but we mustn't let word get our, or else there might be panic." Wincing at the thought, he flicked his eyes towards his once caretaker. " Oh, I see how it is. You make everything nice for her, while I have to stave her off. Good political skills there. I see I still have much to learn in that area." Laughing, but with heavy hearts, they both rose, and went their separate ways.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

The sun had yet to rise, but the waning moon let of plenty of light. Both mounted on their steeds, the two kings set off. They had had to sneak out, so to speak, and Elrond felt like a child once again for a few moments. But once away from Rivendell's borders, both sobered and rode in silence.
Aragorn rode besides Elrond, and after about an hour, he decided to break the silence. "What? No travel songs to sing sire?" His mocking tone was light, and was returned in favor.
"Why don't you start young one, for I'm sure you have learned plenty on your many journeys."
"Ah yes, but elves are known for their beauty in voice and verse. I don't even remember ever hearing you sing Elrond. When did you sing last?"
Sighing, he thought for a moment. " Decades ago. I've been too busy."
"Oh come one, Legolas was busy, but he had time to sing, even when faced with great dangers, he brought happiness to us all with his songs of the land."
"Yes, but Legolas was like that." He stopped talking when he noticed what he had done. Aragorn noticed also. "He is like that, he still is."
Their silence resumed, now full of thoughts for their friend. Neither knew exactly what they were heading towards, or what state they would find their companion, but the worst-case scenario had passed many times through both their minds.
They rode constantly, only pausing once to let their horses have a drink, as well as themselves, then quickly continuing on. The day passed without incident, and they decided to ride through the darkness, for the land they both knew well, and Elrond's elven sight could warn of any danger long before they came upon it. Now Aragorn hung back, and watched as the elf rode on in front.
He took a good look, and found that Elrond still rode with authority. No matter how ancient the elf lord was, he was still beautiful. Now that the dark of night had fallen, his glow was perceivable, and it slightly illuminated the royal. He rode as a warrior rather than a noble, and that pleased Aragorn, for he didn't want to see his long time friend going soft. He knew that the age of elves was coming to an end, and that he was sure to hear one day that Elrond had gone to the sea, but looking at him now, that day seemed far off. With a passion in his heart and a mission on his mind, Elrond took control of the situation and once again became the great leader of men and elf he once was. He smiled slightly, lost in thought, until Elrond called to him to come forward.
"What is it?"
They had been riding the plains all day, and still had far to go from what his eyesight could tell, but then again he couldn't see nearly as well or far as the elf.
" Something is following us. To our left. Keep moving forward, but keep an eye open in that direction."
Nodding slightly, he reprimanded himself for not noticing before the elf. He now rode alongside, with the king to his left, wishing he had come up on the other side so as to get a better view and as more protection for the elf. With Legolas now in danger, possibly wounded, he felt slightly more protective of the elf lord than he normally would. But then again, he never really had found himself in this situation before, where it was just the two of them.
So as to keep seemingly unawares, they kept up some small talk, and around midnight, decided to take a true rest. He unsaddled his own horse, while Elrond got their supplies arranged, since he didn't ride with tack and didn't have any to take care of. After going over the horses to make sure their hard ride hadn't been to much for them, satisfied, he went back to camp to find Elrond ready with a small meal and their bed rolls set out. They didn't need a fire, for they were comfortable, and the moon gave plenty of light off the flat land. They weren't around any obstacles to block their vision, so after ordering the elf to wake him in a few hours, Aragorn lied down and fell into the fast sleep that only soldiers seem to be able to catch.
Elrond walked around the camp, making sure that the presence he had felt earlier wasn't closing. Once he felt it was safe enough, with the presence still keeping away and not closing, he returned to where Aragorn was asleep, with one hand on his chest, the other at his side, on his sword. Elrond has practically raised the man he now saw ready to protect him, and for once in a great while he felt his heart warm. Aragorn might not know it, but Elrond respected him as much if not more so than the man held for him. The man had survived a history of shame and hatred, to rise and become a great leader of men, elf, dwarf, and hobbit. Now as king of man, he ruled fairly and strongly. Elrond kept up on the affairs of all lands of Middle-Earth, for he felt responsible for a great deal more than just Rivendell. Now, with this new threat, he was pleased to actively be doing something, and to be acting with Aragorn at his side.
Looking down at the prone form, sleeping, yet aware to any danger, Elrond walked a few paces away and decided to let the ranger sleep until sunrise. He knew this would not please Aragorn, but the fact that they had ridden so far and hard so quickly that they would be coming up to their destination sometime late tomorrow. And if he was correct in his suspicions, then they both were going to be sorely tested. As an elf, he didn't need to sleep as often as man, so he waited until morning to wake him, and set himself about readying everything in case they needed a quick departure.

CHAPTER 7

A few hours before sunrise, Elrond was over by the horses, currying his after taking care of Aragorn's. Not that there was much to do for either of them, but he found it soothing just to rub down the animals, and speak elvish to them. He was reaching under the horse to get the last bit of dirt off it's belly when both he and the horse tensed. Although his ears didn't' flick back as his horse's did, he stood quickly, listening. He felt the presence moving. Not directly towards them, but around them, to the left again, as if trying to.
He turned and ran back to wake Aragorn. He quickly responded to the elf's hand on his shoulder, but Elrond spoke first. "We need to head out, that presence is trying to cut us off up ahead. We must move out now."
Needing no more explanation, both quickly grabbed their packs, and because Elrond had already saddled his mount, were galloping off within a few moments.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

It was midday now, and they had slowed their mounts to a canter. That presence was still off to the left, but now was riding equal to them, rather than ahead of them. It had taken most of the morning to catch up, but they had and now they were resting for a bit before continuing on as their previous pace. Their steeds were the best of both races, one with elven speed, the other with man's endurance. They were loyal, and were both holding their own, so neither king worried much about riding them to death.
" Elrond, what is the presence you keep speaking of? Do you know what it is? For some reason, I am unable to sense it, so it much not be natural, unless it's something unknown to this land."
"Aragorn, I honestly don't know the true nature of what follows us, but I do know that it is part of this darkness, for whenever it closes, my heart suddenly weighs heavy in my chest." Aragorn nodded, for he had noticed that as the night turned into day, his friend's glow had steadily grown dimmer as they closed upon the presence.
Nodding, he asked instead, "How long do we have to go?" They had left the fields a few hours ago and were now following a dried streambed through a sparse forest. All seemed wilted, but the season was wrong for such occurrences. They were close to their final destination, and once again he was slightly behind Elrond, so that the elf could hunt and locate the entrance.
In that garden back in Rivendell, the elf lord had told him where they could find the darkness.

" It was written here to find this darkness in a related prophecy. The first night after out interrogation of Talya, I went back and studied those prophecies. Again I won't go into detail, but from what it said, we need to first follow plain then stream. I know of which stream we need to follow, and where the two meet. Once we follow along the streambed, it's left to the simple task of following the senses."
"How so?"
"As elf, I am attuned to the light, and the center of this darkness is our source of light. As we near, the darkness of soul will weigh heavier upon me, but in the center of the maelstrom we will find what we need."

Now as they rode, though Aragorn was uneasy, Elrond seemed greatly more disturbed. As it was daylight, no inner glow could be detected by the eyes, but that brightness that seemed to permeate the soul and body of all elves seemed to be waning for the figure in front of him. He didn't like not knowing what his friend was experiencing, but he could tell that whatever he was enduring, it wasn't pleasant.
Elrond continued to ride slightly forward of the man, for he was looking for a sign of where to go. He has stated that he only needed to follow the feeling of darkness, and that was what he was doing, but as it kept getting darker and colder, he was starting to lose hope. Not that he didn't trust himself; it was just that the darkness weighing upon his soul was wearing him down. Poor Legolas he thought. What you must be enduring, at the center of all this. He cast his head down as he thought, not realizing he was doing so, but when he looked back up, he caught two surprises. First, there was Aragorn, looking concerned. The second was a shadow.
"How are you friend?"
"Not now Aragorn. Look there, to the left bank. Do you see that shadow?"
Looking over, he nodded. "But what of it?" He looked closer. "Wait, why is it there?" Glancing around, he couldn't find what was its source. It seemed to simply be a place of no light. He said so.
Nodding, Elrond motioned them to head towards it. It was right at that moment, that they heard a scream. A figure above them on the left bank jumped towards Elrond, screaming something about light.
Startled, both man and elf quickly grabbed at their swords, but neither were fast enough as the thing landed on Elrond and knocked him from his horse.
"Elrond!"
The two figures, matched size for size, fought on the ground, one of light, one of dark. It seemed that this place so enveloped him in darkness that he had lost the creature's presence amidst it. Now here he was fighting off that which had been pacing them.
"Elrond!" He dismounted and ran to his friend's aid. He went to grab and drag the figure off the elf, but paused when Elrond yelled at him not to touch it.
Grunting as the thing got a hold of his sword hand and tried to make him release it by breaking his wrist, Elrond saw what Aragorn was about to do and suddenly feared greatly for what was to happen. " No, don't Aragorn," he shouted. He didn't know why, but he knew that if his friend touched this thing that he would come to harm. As it was, the two grappled, each fighting for purchase, with Elrond still pressed to the ground underneath his attacker.
The thing, getting frustrated at their stalemate, bent and bit the elf's shoulder. Crying out in pain, Elrond squirmed to get away rather than flip his opponent, and the thing shoved away from him. They both stood, the thing between wary man and bleeding elf.
"What are you?"
He only got a hissing response before the thing turned and went after Aragorn, trying to escape. Quickly dodging the oncoming figure, both Aragorn and Elrond leapt after the retreating figure, and quickly dispatched it with their swords.
Holding his hand over his right shoulder, attempting to staunch the bleeding, Elrond felt something stir inside him. They were both now standing directly in front of the shadow. Brushing his companions worried questions away, he started towards the bank. He knew that what they were looking for lie somewhere back in that darkness.
"Elrond, stop." Aragorn's voice quickly had turned from concern to command, and the elf was brought up short by that voice. "I'm fine Aragorn, but this is where we need to go."
"Not before I get a look at that wound. Now stay still." He of course knew that elves healed much quicker, but something about that attack sat wrong with him. Why had the thing gone after Elrond while he was the closer target, and why had it simply run by him. It was almost as if he wasn't visible to that shadow creature. Elrond had sat down on the ground at this point, so he headed over to look at the wound.
Taking his friend's hand away from the wound, he immediately knew something was wrong. "Elrond, you're still bleeding."
Surprised at this, the elf lord looked down to see that he was right. By now the wound should have stopped bleeding, and quite possibly been healing, but the bite was still ebbing out his blood. He quickly shook off his slight panic, and shook off his friend's concern. "It'll be fine. My slowed healing must be due to the darkness of this place and my soul. Do not worry. Just let me bandage it quickly, for we must be off."
Being around Legolas had taught him not to dismiss their kind's pride when it came to battle wounds, so he just gazed hard to make sure Elrond knew he didn't approve, then went to his pack and got out some herbs. After quickly wrapping the wound, they both stood and faced the left bank where the shadow was. Now that it had their full attention, the thing seemed not to be a shadow, but rather a hole. The darkness around it hinted that all light that came near was quickly destroyed and forgotten. Shivering, Aragorn went back to the horse which had returned after the scuffle and took whatever supplies he thought they needed, then talked softly to them, pacifying them. They were still worked up, but neither seemed the worse for wear. He then returned to his friend's side, and handed him his pack. The elf seemed barely to register his actions, still staring into the now assumed entrance. Worried about his friend, the ranger was about to say something, when Elrond started forward. Elrond held his sword in front, for he preferred to fight with it more than his bow, but that was swung over his shoulder just in case also. Aragorn also held his sword in front, not knowing exactly what they were heading into, and followed the elf, jogging to stand by his side for whatever they might face once they entered. Soon, the darkness enveloped them.

CHAPTER 8

"Wake up Elf!" A solid slap to the face brought Legolas around once more. It had been days since that nightmare, and several beatings later he was sure he was to die. Not from his wounds, but rather the darkness of his soul. That anger which had been building seemed to be the only light within his soul anymore, a smoldering fiery glow in his heart. He had yet to succumb to that darkness what only fought harder than ever to overwhelm him, but that was his only consolation. Now he fully awoke, because he didn't recognize the voice. His captors usually used the same few creatures to torture him, but this one was new. He tried to raise his head, but could only manage to direct his gaze away from the floor, and once again found himself facing that figure of darkness. He had long lost the urge to resist as forcefully, for now he was only a skeleton of the strong warrior he once was. No longer clothed, his beaten body seemed lifeless. This being in front of him must of read his thoughts, for the hooded figure titled its head and mockingly. "Are you ashamed, elf prince? You should be, just look at you. You don't even have the strength to look me in the eye, do you. Oh yes, I can see you, and this my friend is real. You see, you frustrate me. I decided that my minions aren't nearly forceful enough to bend you. You surprise me, lasting this long and all. I guess a different type of persuasion needs to be used on you, since physical means don't seem to have much impact. Legolas wondered, as he suspended there, his body totally at the will of his captor, what else they could do to him. Every single physical and mental torture had been used, his identity forcefully taken from him in all manners imaginable. He couldn't think of what else they could use. Again, seemingly reading his mind, the being continued, "Why, you couldn't have thought that everyone had abandoned you, could you have? Oh my, why, maybe you have been more effected than I originally thought, but no matter. Now, we will see how strong this elven loyalty is." Legolas stiffened, as much as he could in his state. "Ah, I see you understand now. Yes, my dear elf, your rescuers have arrived. And none to soon I see. Well, lets just see who they are, shall we?" At this, he held up an arm, and a reddish glow permeated the room. Legolas shut his eyes tight against the invading light, and after a few moments he was able to open them. He wish he hadn't. The thing had created a moving picture of some sort, and in it he saw two figures fighting some unseen forces. It was dark where they were, but both of the figures seemed able to see their opponents. Getting a close look though, he noticed that while both figures were fighting, only one was being attacked. It seemed that the shadows were ignoring the other figure altogether, and were utterly surprised when struck by him. Not that their surprise lasted long, since the man's strikes were immediately fatal. Then both defending figures, after they had taken down the shadows, turned towards him, as if noticing his gaze, and Legolas felt his heart suddenly drop lower, if that was possible, and his soul enflame. It was Aragorn that the shadows were ignoring, and Elrond of all people, who they were attacking. He wasn't all that surprised that Aragorn was one of his rescuers, but Elrond? Focused as he was on the scene before him, he didn't notice the rod coming at his head. The last thing he saw before darkness was Elrond staring straight into his eyes.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

Breathing heavily, Aragorn sensed his companion turning away, so he tensed and turned around, expecting more attack. He didn't like not being able to sense these shadow creatures before they were on them, and having to rely fully on Elrond's senses made it worse. Not that he didn't trust his elder, he simply hated being dependent on another, especially when it came to their safety.
Once he turned around, he saw Elrond starring through the wall, but when he followed the elf's gaze, he didn't see anything. He placed his hand of the other's shoulder.
Startled out of his thoughts, the elf turned quickly raising his sword, but noticed it was Aragorn, and lowered both weapon and gaze. "It was Legolas, I saw him."
This he had not expected. "You saw him? How?"
"There are evil forces at work here, Aragorn, you know that. Somehow a link was established so that he could see us, but I felt it and turned in time to see him."
"Where is he? Is he ok?"
"No. I don't know where he is, but he wasn't ok. He has been beaten, and worse, he didn't look right. His eyes, there was something lacking there. The link was broken when he was knocked out." Shoulders hunched, he faced his friend. "We might be too late."
Those simple words hit Aragorn harder than any single blow from battle ever had. Too late! That was impossible. Legolas was stronger than he appeared, much stronger. "Well, lets find him. I'm sure that this evil will be nearby, and is watching us and expects us to rescue our friend. We might as well prepare ourselves, but continue on."
"Of course."
The two set off down the corridor once again. It was dark, yet the reddish glow that seemed to permeate everything left if bright enough to see by. This of course didn't mean everything was clear, for those shadows had just taken them by surprise, but now they knew what to look for. Elrond still had to lead, for they were totally following his sense of the darkness, but Aragorn was but a few paces behind. Both kept their swords at ready, for although made of shadow, those beings had physical form, and could inflict physical damage. He had escaped any real harm, since he wasn't their target, but Elrond hadn't been so lucky. As Aragorn followed, he noticed that the elf, though silent, had suffered more injuries. When asked if ok, the other simply gave him a look as if to say I'm fine, let it be. So he did, but he was going to be sure to check the elf out once they got out this corridor and to Legolas.
His thoughts drifted back to what Elrond had stated. We might be too late. How could they be too late? Sure, his situation had to have been terrible, but his friend had such a strong and valiant soul, he couldn't see how he would have given in. During their time together, both before and during the fellowship, both he and the prince had spoken many times of what would happen if they ever failed in their duties. Both had considered the worst-case scenarios, but neither thought anything would come of such predictions. But now here he was, hunting for his friend, in some dark place, full of evil, being attacked by shadows of all things, all the while striving to both save that friend and destroy some unknown enemy. He couldn't see how much darker things could get.
Then he saw something he never thought possible. Elrond collapsed.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

He wasn't out long, probably only a few minuets, because he awoke to find both his face wet with blood, and the thing cupping his chin, so that he couldn't help but face him. For some reason, his captors had lately taken to having him face them more often, but now that they were dead, if the thing before him spoke truthfully, he didn't need to worry about them anymore. Then he remembered.
"Ah I see you remembered. Good. You see, since you don't seem to care for the state your body is in, although it is a pity to have to mar such a thing of beauty," the thing chuckled, " I now have to find another way to bend you, to break you. Your friends have been a source of slight amusement so far, so we need to remedy that. Now how to do this?" It turned Legolas' head left and right, as if studying a piece of artwork.
Legolas tried his hardest not to betray any of his emotions, knowing his friend's lives were at stake. With the last remaining strength he had, he forced his head out of the thing's hand, and spat. Seeing the blow coming, he relaxed into the chains, so as to take a lesser force. Not that it helped much.
Dizzy once again, he heard the thing step closer. "Now I see your weakness. You care not for yourself, but for them. Oh, how quaint. Well, they shall be here presently, as long as nothing goes wrong to stop them."
Not knowing what else to do, Legolas drew upon that anger which he had been forcing down this entire time, and felt strength return to his body. He again began to struggle, and the whole time he glared at the thing, never once losing eye contact. He felt his anger grow, and with it, his need to resist. "You shall not hurt them, as you have attempted to do to me. They are strong, stronger than I, and they will destroy you." He hated that his voice was so raspy, but he hadn't spoken for days, and hadn't had water for longer.
The thing struck again with his rod, this time against the elf's bare stomach. What little air could rushed out of his lungs, and he once again hung limp. Limp, but fully awake. "But you see, it won't be I that they will have to destroy, but you, my friend. You shall witness their torture, their agony and suffering. If you don't join with me, then this shall be all that you and they will live for. The man, he is mortal, yes, but I have ways of immortality. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to suffer as you have, and most definitely not for all eternity."
No, Legolas most definitely didn't want that. But neither was he willing to be the toy of this vile creature's game. He would think of something, and if he didn't, he knew that his two friends would. He had trusted them both at times with his life, and once again he found himself in need of their salvation.
"I feel the need for a walk, don't you elf?" With those words, he pulled out a key and undid his shackles. Before he even thought to try and stand, he found himself face down on the floor.
"Aw, too weak are we to stand? I guess you need my help." He picked up the elf and flung him over his shoulder. Legolas hadn't felt such humiliation, even during his sessions. He didn't know where they were going, but anytime he tried to struggle, the creature simply hit him with the rod, careful not to hit himself of course.

CHAPTER 9

Rushing forward to the fallen elf, Aragorn felt his hope fade away, replaced instead with confusion. What could have stricken down the elf lord? Kneeling at his side, Aragorn bent over the bent form besides him. Elrond was still on his knees, but he was sitting back on his heels, clutching his shoulder.
"What is it? Elrond, can you hear me, what's wrong?" Not meaning to make his voice so commanding, he winced as the elf did the same.
"I'm sorry Aragorn, but this darkness, it's inside me, eating at me. I can't seem to get past this feeling of evil." Now he began to shiver, as if cold, but his hand never left his shoulder.
Prying that hand away, Aragorn quickly went to inspect the wound, and found a gruesome sight. Instead of healing, the leaves he had placed on the wound to stop the bleeding had instead decayed, and were now a mess of both plant and elf gore. The wound was still bleeding, even if not as profusely. At seeing this, Aragorn made quick work of the rest of Elrond's tunic, and found that every other wound, slight as they might be, to be in a similar state. The elf had been bleeding to death, and he hadn't even noticed. He wasn't sure how to tell the elf, but looking into his eyes, he realized that he already knew. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"What could you have done?"
Unable to reply, he instead asked, "Are you wounded anywhere else?" The elf hesitated, then shook his head. "No, only these, and they are minor. They are not what stop me though, but rather this cold." He still trembled, and it saddened the man's heart to see such a strong hero in such a humble state.
"Come on, we have to keep moving. It'll keep you warm, and your mind distracted." He didn't rightly understand what his friend was enduring, but he tried to help as best he knew. Pulling the other up, he made sure the elf could stand, before reaching down to pick up their discarded swords.
"I still need you to find out way friend, for I am not gifted with your abilities. I take it that we're close though."
Still shivering, the other chuckled. "These abilities are more a curse as of right now, but yes, we are close. Let us keep going." And with that they set off.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

It was only a few minuets later that they came upon a set of doors to the right. They looked to be of decayed wood, but when Aragorn tried to push them open, he found them to be as strong as steel. He had Elrond focus to see if he could hear anything inside, but he didn't so they moved on. They only had met a couple more packs of shadow creatures, and both made quick work of them, so their progress was barely slowed.
They came upon some more doors, but by their third try, neither had found luck. Then, around a corner, they heard laughter. Not pleasant laughter of the hobbits, but rather snickering of something evil. They crept their way up the corridor, the man staying close by the elf just in case he decided to kiss the floor again. They came upon a new set of doors, just as decayed and strong as the others. The only difference was in their size. They had to be at least four times as large, and as heavy.
Suddenly, the laugher stopped, and to their surprise and dismay, found the doors opening inwards to let them enter.
"Come in my friends, come in."
Wary, both man and elf, shoulder to shoulder, entered this new room. As like the corridor, there was not visible light besides the red glow. They looked around for the source of the sound, but quickly their eyes were drawn to structure in the middle of the room. Strung there, they found Legolas, neither facing them or with his back to them, but rather his side. Even from the doorway, Aragorn could hear the wheezing breathes coming from the elf, and he couldn't help but feel relieved. He was still alive.

Still unable to find the source of the voice, he and Elrond split up, Aragorn heading to go behind Legolas, and Elrond in front. Soon they had rounded the room, and found nothing of immediate danger, so both quickly returned to their friend.
"Legolas, Legolas, can you hear me. Listen to me, answer me." Elrond cast a worried glance at the man, who tried so desperately to get the prince's attention. He moved forward, to try and see how hurt his fellow elf truly was. What he saw astonished even him.
Oh, how could they have done this to you Legolas? He found his friend strung up, spread-eagled, as if in cross ties in a barn, beaten, bloody, broken. He barely could see any skin not covered in bruise or blood. Now Aragorn joined him, and they quickly tried to break the chain that held Legolas up. They seemed unbreakable. As their movements jarred the elf, Legolas slowly and painfully awoke.
They stepped back, not sure how he was going to react. Aragorn spoke first. "Legolas?"
The elf, seeing his friends, only groaned. He had hoped they wouldn't find him, that they would simply give up. Of course he knew they would die before ever doing such a thing, but it would have made things so much simpler. Licking his cracked and swollen lips, he tried to talk, but found he couldn't anymore. Frustrated, he again looked for that anger inside, and let it fuel his strength.
Elrond, seeing and understanding exactly what the elf was doing, quickly stepped forward and took the prince's chin in his hand. "Don't! You know you can't do this, we know you can't talk, so don't even try. And don't try to receive your strength from that anger Legolas; you know it will only bring you closer to this darkness inside. Yes, I can feel it, and I know you can. But just don't give up now and surrender to something so sinister. You're pure of heart and mind, Legolas, keep it that way." Looking into those beaten and hardened eyes, Elrond saw a flicker of understanding, and soon that anger seemed to ebb. But with it, so did his strength, and Legolas' body once again hung limply.
Aragorn had stood back, knowing that he had no part in what was going on between the two elves. He was stunned at the lord's words, but he busied himself with turning all around, looking for the trap which they knew they had entered. He couldn't see one, and that frustrated him as much as not being able to speak frustrated Legolas. He still couldn't feel any immediate danger, but that didn't mean a thing, since he hadn't been able to sense any of the darkness so far. He only felt great unease. He returned to Legolas and Elrond, hearing that they no longer seemed to be communicating. Right before he was going to ask what they should do, he saw both elves stiffen, but not supported as Legolas was, Elrond again began to fall.
Quickly at his side, Aragorn caught the elf and held him upright. "More shadow creatures?"
Trembling more forcefully, the elf lord replied, "No, their master."

CHAPTER 10

He despaired. Waking up from his stupor, he hoped that the voices he had heard were of his dreams. But alas, he awoke and found that the voices indeed belonged to Elrond and Aragorn. His friends, his rescuers. And now they were going to die. All because of him, and he was powerless.
Hanging there, spread-eagled in chains, he only felt despair. The darkness had won. His friends had come, knowingly yet willingly, to save him, unbeknownst of his unworth. He had failed to resist, and that failure hurt deeper than any injury he had yet received. Attempting to speak, he could only manage a pitiful groan, but was quickly silenced by the elf lord.
While he listened, unable to do anything else, he simply looked upon his friends. Aragorn, strong, silent, respectful of their privacy. A friend of many years, they had shared both life and near death, and had between them a bond that seemed impenetrable. They loved one another; not with the love that the man held for Arwen, but rather a love, just as strong as that, but more of deep friendship, long forged and solidified.
Elrond, a leader of man and elf, ancient on both wisdom and age, standing before his battered form, he radiated strength and power restrained. In his eyes, Legolas could read his inner conflict, but his face only conveyed resolve. In his future, in all of their futures. Upon his shoulders weighed the safety of not only his city, but also the well being of his people, and all the peoples of Middle-Earth.
Those words that Elrond kept speaking, about his purity and his light, how false it all was now. He hadn't given into the darkness, as the being, which he now deemed Shadow Lord, desired, but rather he had given up to the darkness. He had no will to live. And that would have been fine, if only his friends hadn't come. Now again he had reason to survive, if only to save them. But he was too far-gone, in mind, in soul, in body. How could he help them if he couldn't even help himself?
Even as he was thinking furiously, he began to shudder, as the darkness once again crept closer. He sensed the Shadow Lord nearby, and knew that Elrond had also, for soon he found Aragorn closer to him, supporting the trembling elf lord, speaking softly to him, questioning him. By the shocked look in the man's eyes, Legolas could tell that he had been alerted of their situation. Aragorn looked towards him.
Immediately, although he knew it was a fruitless endeavor, Legolas began struggling against his bonds. Not much movement was allowed, and he was still weak, but wanted to show his friends that he hadn't given up on them, even if he had done so on himself, he fought his bondage.
Seeing the futile effort that their friend put up, both quickly went to his side, the elf lord seeming to get his bearings once again, and all three worked at the shackles around his wrists and ankles.
"Stop struggling so, Legolas, you're going to start bleeding again." Even as he spoke, he saw small rivulets of red begin their way down the elf's arms. So focused were they on getting their companion out, that they didn't notice the figure behind them. The sound of slow, methodical claps quickly brought their attention back to their main problem.
Whirling around, all three soon faced that which had been haunting Legolas' dreams and reality. It was a hideous being of.nothing? How could this be? Aragorn cast a confused gaze at Elrond, but looking back at Legolas also, found both their attention squarely focused on that presence in front of them. He turned back, disturbed, for it almost seemed as if they were communicating, yet no sound could be heard besides his heart beat and Legolas' wheezing breaths.
Finally, the thing turned slightly to face Aragorn. It then spoke aloud, "Oh, and this is our hero, our man of great. I don't see what's so great about you." That it spoke out loud seemed to slightly startle the elf besides him, for Elrond gave a slight jump when he heard the voice. But so would anybody faced with such a horrid thing. Aragorn turned his attention back to the shadow thing, and replied in kind, "And if this thing in front of me is what I came to fight, I see that my efforts will be slight, and my worries unneeded."
That gave it pause, but it was only a second or two before it simply laughed. Both Elves shuddered more violently than they had been, and Aragorn felt a cold darkness seemingly creep into his heart from every limb. This was indeed a being of evil, to be wary of if not feared. He refused to show such thoughts. "We know of your reason for capturing this elf, but I must tell you that all your efforts have been futile, for we don't fall easily." Elrond spoke this, and almost through a silent link, a shared thought, both he and the man began to separate and walk towards and around the being, man to left, elf to right. "Ah, but I agree. He has been a disappointment, I must say, so I guess we shall have to dispatch of him." Quicker than either man or elf could see, the being had both bow and arrow readied at their strung up friend behind them. Before they could react, the thing loosed the arrow with deadly accuracy.

CHAPTER 11

Acting purely on instinct, both companions tried to follow the arrow, but as soon as it left the being's bow, it disappeared. Still, Elrond knew the danger and tried to protect his friend. Even as he managed to get in front of Legolas, he felt great cold rushing through his chest. Before he could even wonder at what had happened, he heard the sickening impact of wood and flesh. Then his left shoulder erupted with such pain that he gasped, and he heard a cry of agony behind him. He lurched forward, feeling something being wrenched from his shoulder, and ignoring the pain and dizziness, and tried to turn towards where the sound had come from. Then, before he knew what was happening, he saw the floor rushing at him.
By this point Aragorn also had acted, running towards his friend, but being beaten by the elf. Then, to his horror, he saw Elrond jerk violently back and thought that some spell had bewitched him, freezing him in place. Then, right before he reached the elf, he saw him pull himself forward, almost as if off something, then turn and fall. Again he found himself standing over the elf lord, right before Legolas.
He knelt. Elrond was frozen to the touch, and seemed lifeless, but as Aragorn laid him down, he felt warmth upon his hands. Rolling the elf onto his side, he saw a gaping wound, not that deep, but massive all the same, bleeding profusely. Still looking down, he didn't see an entrance wound, and he wondered as to what had happened, when his attention was drawn back to Legolas. There, lodged deep into his chest, was the black arrow. .
Seeing that there was nothing he could do for the unconscious elf in his arms, and ignoring the figure still watching over the scene, he stood up, and went to his friend. He's dead. Not seeing any movement, and remembering the cry of pain he had heard, Aragorn felt as if his heart had been torn. At his feet lie a wounded friend, and here before him hung a dead friend.
"What did you do?" was all he could manage.
Chuckling once again, amused at the scene playing before him, the shadow creature replied, "Why, even you heard the elf state that he couldn't be turned, and I was bored. Oh, and the reason your friend there, on the floor, is hurt, is because of his own foolishness. Quite amusing."
Getting angrier by the word, Aragorn restrained his fury, for he knew that to act to soon, and out of pure emotion, would get him nowhere. He still had a mission to complete, to destroy this darkness, but with Legolas now gone, he didn't quite understand why the creature still existed. For it fed off the life of Legolas, used him as sustenance, and in doing so was to destroy what once had been his friend, and filling the empty shell of a body with the evil of this darkness.
But the creature remained. Has it grown that strong? Surely not. But he still had doubts, and now honestly had no idea what to do. He could try to kill it, hoping it had the same physical features as those attacking shadows he and Elrond had fought earlier, or some weakness he could play upon. He still couldn't sense it, or the darkness, as the elves had, but his unease grew greater with its closer proximity. Eyeing the creature before him, he tried thinking of what he could do, but his grief and shock were muddling his mind. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it wouldn't dislodge.
The creature moved forward, and he stepped back, standing protectively over and in front of his friends. He would not let this vile creature destroy such light and beauty. Even in death, Legolas seemed to glow. His heart cried at his friend's vicious and torturous demise, and it angered him. As an elf, mortal wounds should not have been the death of him, a simple arrow wound painful, but not fatal. Yet the darkness under which he had been forced must have weakened him, and probably it was that darkness which in the end killed him.
As he had with Boromir's death, he felt tears in his eyes, but unlike that time, his threat had not been subdued. It was actually approaching closer, seeming to glide rather than walk. Taking another step back, he bumped into Elrond's body, and almost jumped when he felt a slight squeeze on his ankle. He was aware, if not awake, but Aragorn had to test him. He took another pace back, as if wanting to get closer to Legolas, and felt Elrond squeeze twice more.
He was awake, and aware, and ready. As man, he couldn't think of anything to destroy this darkness, but possibly Elrond could. He stood straighter, and moved off to the side a bit, again as if to get closer to Legolas, but also to free Elrond's path towards the creature, which had remained silent during it's approach.
Taking advantage of this, Aragorn thought quickly. "What are you, or were you?" It was a long stretch, but knowing how Orcs were once elves, maybe this creature had once been something beautiful also. He doubted it.
It stopped its advance. "Ah, but I see you still have nerve, and are able to speak. I had thought maybe you to be to scared to act. And look at you, standing there all protective over your friends. They're dead, you know, or will be soon enough. As will you be." And with that, it attacked.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

He felt his friend's hand cradling his body, but was unable to respond. He was aware, but so cold was he that he couldn't get his body to work properly. Desperately wanting to let the man know he was ok, he fought to resume control, but met only dead weight. Then the hand quickly but gently set him back down on his side, facing the creature.
Sensing it as it watched Aragorn take care of Legolas, as he was certain the man had moved to do, he studied what he felt, looking for a weakness. It seemed to be only a shadow, but to speak as it had with Aragorn, for with him it had simply established a telepathic link, it had to have form. He couldn't see any weakness, short of it being as vulnerable as those beings they had fought earlier. But even those, although possible to kill, had been elusive at best. He knew that Aragorn, not able to sense them as he had, was in grave danger.
Still he fought the darkness, and soon realized that he had some feeling back in his limbs. Not enough to move, but at least he was aware of them. His shoulder wound seemed the center of the darkness, but as he thought of his friends and the peril they were in, it seemed to recede slightly. It was as if his thoughts were light and the wound a shadow.
Sensing Aragorn move back to protect him, he felt the man's boot brush his hand, and so trying his hardest, he forced his fingers to contract, hoping that the man would feel it.
The lack of response disappointed him, but then the man again stepped back, unnecessarily, so he knew it was a test. Again he focused all effort to his hand, and repeated his squeeze twice. He was here, ready to help. He now found his way clear to the monster, but remained still, hoping to be looked over. He heard Aragorn ask something of the shadow, and it paused. As it halted, Elrond slowly tested to see if he could move. Although sluggish by elven standards, he indeed could move. Then, right as he collected himself, he saw the shadow launch itself towards Aragorn.

CHAPTER 12

Taken slightly off guard, Aragorn saw the flash of metal right before he felt its blade cut into his arm. He had positioned his sword in time to take the brunt of the blow, but the thing just slid under his guard and managed to leave its mark. Grimacing slightly, he returned the blow in kind, but didn't manage to hurt the thing, but his attack forced it back somewhat. His arm felt terrible, more than a wound normally should, and risking a glance, he saw it mirrored those that Elrond had received. The fact that the elf had gone on, even in such pain, surprised even him.
His attention returned immediately to the shadow creature, looking for an opening. It did have form, that much was sure, for no attack to be that strong without some muscle behind it. But then again it was a creature of magic. He couldn't be sure.
He lunged at the creature, reversing his attack at the last second, and managed to bring the sword down on his opponent's thigh, but he met no resistance, and had to roll forward with his momentum to keep from getting stabbed in the back. That answered his question. He wasn't going to be able to stop it. But maybe the elf could.
Keeping his guard up, and deflecting the blows, he saw that Elrond had not moved, but was tensed on the floor, ready to spring. He now aimed his blows more on directing the being backwards towards the elf, rather than blocking. For this he paid with a few more wounds, but although extremely painful, none were too serious. Only if this battle lasted too long would he risk his life, for he would bleed to death. He was a swordsman, a soldier, at heart, and this was what he did best. In his element, he ignored the pain as best he could, and solely focused on forcing the shadow back.
Impressed at the swordsman ship, Elrond continued to watch the battle, wincing everything the shadow connected a blow. Then he noticed that the landed blows were not fault of the man, but calculated risks, so that he could force the creature towards him. He readied himself, still lying on the floor so as not to bring attention to himself. Knowing exactly what he was going to have to do, he drew upon his inner light, trying to fight back the rest of the darkness, and strengthen his body and soul as much as possible. He risked exposing himself by doing this, for he was sure the being could sense it, but Aragorn was doing his part of distraction very well, and kept the thing preoccupied enough that it either ignored the elf or didn't care to notice. Again he drew upon his light, seeking it from deep inside, when he felt a soft glow join his. Perplexed, he focused on that glow, and found it to be coming from outside. Seeing that Aragorn was still fighting off the creature, he realized with a shock that this glow, this light was coming not from the man, but rather, another elf. Legolas was somehow giving up his last bit of magic to aid him in his fight. He was stunned, for he had never heard of such a thing, and didn't think it possible, yet it has happening. He quickly absorbed the extra energy, slight as it was, and now found that Aragorn had positioned the shadow creature in front of the elf.

With the grace and speed known of his race, Elrond jumped to his feet and leapt at the creature, grasping at the shadowy form. He quickly found himself in the midst of the battle, so Aragorn pulled back, and Elrond unleashed his and Legolas' inner light. Never before had he felt such cold as he did when he immersed himself in that creature, and for a few moments he thought it would overwhelm him. But then he again felt a slight push from his fallen elf, and that extra energy combined with his and began to eat away at the darkness, as it had with his wound. Impassioned beyond all reason, Elrond fought with his life force, and that of Legolas, and soon found their light to be growing stronger than the darkness. He continued to focus that light throughout his body and into the shadow around him. Aragorn, seeing that Elrond was behind the creature, stepped back so as not to wound him with his sword, and was surprised to find the elf soon immersed within the shadow. The creature seemed almost as surprised, and soon began to howl, in anger more than pain. It then lost form, and began to swirl around the elf, obviously overpowering him, but then a light, bright and radiant, from within the elf began to shine forth. When it touched a part of the shadow, that shadow dissipated. Soon, the swirling mass of darkness gave into the light, and with a sudden final burst of radiance, it disappeared.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

Still blinded by the sheer brilliance, Aragorn blinked the tears of pain from his eyes, and ran towards his fallen friend. Oh no, he can't be dead. How could he lose two of his best friends within the same day, within minutes. He knelt by the elf, who now lay collapsed on the floor. Seeking a pulse, he held his breath, but soon found one, surprisingly strong.
He grasped the elf's hand, trying to wake him, and was soon relieved once again to see the elf's lids flutter open. Only in unconsciousness or unnatural sleep did their eyes close, and it was disturbing to see an elf with their eyes closed. He met the elf's gaze and smiled, but held a hand on the other's chest as he tried to sit up. "Rest, the darkness is gone."
Blinking slowly, the Elf Lord gently smiled, and replied, " But our friend is not."
Shocked, he looked down, confused as to his friend's words. Thinking he might still be slightly shaken from his ordeal, he smiled again and comforted his friend that he was indeed well and had managed to destroy the creature.
Now slightly irritated that he was being held down, and that Aragorn didn't understand him, he frowned and clarified himself. "Legolas still lives, Aragorn."
"What?!" Getting up, he glanced back at Elrond as he struggled to stand, and helped the elf up, but then practically dragged him over to Legolas. He still hung there, not moving, the arrow still protruding from his chest. But now a subtle difference could be found. Amongst the filth and blood on his face, mingled tears.

EPILOGUE

Aragorn returned to the room he had visited so many times with in the past few days, and looked down upon the still form upon the bed. Lying there peacefully, with hand gently folded over his chest, was Legolas. He sat in a chair besides the bed, and gazed upon the unmoving elf, thinking over the past few days.
After the destruction of the shadowed darkness, they found the cloak it had been wearing, and in it the key to Legolas' chains. Elrond, still unsteady and worn from his battle with the shadow had again knelt down besides the structure and let Aragorn work at the chains. At first they had seemed to resist, and he became worried, but finally they let go of their prize, and the elf fell forward into Aragorn's awaiting arms. He has set his friend's broken body down besides Elrond, and together, attempted to save their friend.
At the memory, Aragorn bowed his head, and when able, again directed his gaze at the prone from on the bed. There he met a steady, blue gaze. "Hello Aragorn."
"Welcome back my friend." He took hold of the elf's hand, and gave it a squeeze, careful as to not hurt any remaining injuries. Both he and Elrond has begun healing once away from that underground torture chamber, but the severity of Legolas' injuries would keep him bed-ridden for many days, and he wouldn't regain his true strength for many weeks. None of the healers were exactly sure how deeply the darkness had effected him, but all held out hope, for Legolas had proven them all wrong many a time before when it came to recovery. "How are you faring?"
Since entering Rivendell, he had been in and out of conscience, but only now did he truly awaken. And waking to find Aragorn brought a slight smile to his still bruised lips. He had watched the man gaze at him, and then delve into far-too recent memories, but waited until he had his attention to let him know that he was awake. Now posed with a question, and trying to formulate an answer, he found that he was still awfully weak, and that trying to sit up was not the thing to do.
Seeing his friend struggling to sit up, he gently placed a firm hand against his chest, and gave him a don't you dare look, and the elf relaxed back into the pillows. Closing his eyes a moment, he tried to collect himself and now wince at the very intense pains he still felt.
Fearing something wrong, Aragorn turned to fetch Elrond, but was restrained when Legolas reached for his hand once again. Eyes still tightly shut, he responded, "I will be fine soon enough. Nothing that will heal itself." Opening his eyes again, Aragorn saw the pain and agony still haunting his friend, and desperately hoped that he was right. "I hope you're right my friend, for if you decided to stay, what else would give me an excuse for escaping to your forests?" Smiling, he pulled his hand away, and ordered his friend to rest now. Seeing no reason not to, Legolas did just that, and soon his eyes lost their haunted shadows, and became clear once again. Once sure that his friend was indeed asleep, and resting peacefully, he left to go find Elrond. After many minutes of searching and asking of his whereabouts, he found him once again in his chamber, sitting alone. "Enter Aragorn. Don't just stand there." Rolling his eyes at the elf, he walked into the chamber, hoping he wasn't disturbing any too important thoughts. But some thoughts he did want to interrupt, for he didn't want the elf dwelling on the past, plus he had some questions. Noticing the look in his friend's eyes, he again motioned his friend to the balcony, but this time not to escape, but rather to enter a place of as much beauty and life possible. Rivendell was a paradise for some, and it was the life of its people and nature which made it so. Once on the balcony, overlooking his city, both King of Elves, and King of Men, sat in silence. This time it was Elrond who broke the silence "Before you even ask, I'm just fine." It was true to a point, for like Legolas, he had begun healing at his normal rate once the darkness was destroyed and he returned home. "But how is Legolas? Is he awake?" Silently laughing to himself at the other's question and answer approach, he told him that their friend had indeed awoken, and seemed to be over the worst. "But I fear he has a long way to go before he is the same elf as we knew him. Can you tell me what exactly happened?" Steadying himself, for the memories were still fresh, he looked directly into the ranger's eyes. "Basically, the race of elves have an inner light of sorts, a soul perhaps, a song. It goes by many names and forms, but it is what gives us our abilities and our heightened senses. You of course knew that." Aragorn nodded, so he continued. "As you probably figured out, in a way, that shadow creature was the darkness, evil, of every soul over time condensed into one. We saw it in shapes, but it still only remained in its condensed form. That's why when the arrow left his bow, it disappeared, only to reappear once it had found its target. The only reason I was physically damaged was because it was passing through me as it made contact with Legolas, thus solidified while still partially in my body. Like that arrow, he could inflict damage in that form. But never could he leave his resting place, nor could he ever be seen in the light of day, and only as shadow at night. He needed a body, a host, for reside in." Aragorn had figured as much, but he let the elf continue without interruption. "The reason he picked Legolas was because he was the only one who could ever be a challenge. He was evil incarnate, and with such twisted evil comes twisted thoughts and views. One was he couldn't turn down a challenge, which also explains why he ignored me and kept fighting you, even though I'm sure he could sense what I was doing." He paused. "And what exactly were you doing?" "That light, song, soul, I spoke of, is a precious and dear part of every elf. It is only when that is gone that an elf can truly die. Hence people say that only darkness can kill an elf; it's not darkness so much as a lack of light. When I was hit by that arrow, I felt a darkness enter my soul, from that wound, and it partially incapacitated me, as you saw when I fell." He lowered his gaze, faltering, but quickly regained his composure. "I was still aware, only my body had frozen due to the shock of such a foreign darkness. But even as I listened and sensed what it was you were doing, I could feel that with my passion, my light grew stronger, and was able to combat the dark presence. So while you distracted the creature, I turned to drawing forth every ounce of light I possibly could find, and in doing so found that Legolas was still alive, for he sensed what I was doing, and gave up his own light, thus actually his life, to empower mine." "You mean, even in his state, he was still aware?" He felt terrible, for now he thought that Legolas had sensed him when he assumed he had died, not bothering to check even for a pulse. At his friend's obvious discomfort, Elrond put his hand on the man's shoulder, "No, he would not blame you for such a thing, don't even think that for the smallest moment. He wanted us to leave him, for he knew that all was lost." "But it wasn't, because we were there, you saw how he fought once we arrived." "The only reason he fought was because he needed to survive for us, no him. He had already given up on his own life." Deeply shocked, Aragorn blinked and jerked at such a thought. Stopping his thoughts from going any farther, he silently motioned the elf to continue, not wanted to contemplate what such a horrid thing. "Well, as I was centering that energy, both his and mind, I waited until I saw that I could catch the creature unaware. Then I simply let his shadow envelope me, as was its nature, for part of evil is greed, and as strong as our combined power was, if turned it would have been deadlier than anything he had imagined. Knowing this, I let the light work upon the shadow, must as sunlight on a tree's shadow, it ate away at it before he could collect himself enough to absorb it. A couple of times, it's resistance became to much for me, but again Legolas was there to give of himself, and together we destroyed it." Aragorn sat in silence, amazed at all that happened, and he finally let it all wash over him, letting his thoughts wander from all the different possibilities and could-have's and should-have's. He always experienced this, usually after a battle or confrontation, but rarely before with this magnitude. Only with the Fellowship had he experienced such serious doubts, regrets, and relieved blessings. "Elrond, I honestly don't know what to say, to think." "Then don't. When you have to, you will, but not before, nor after. I know you came here to make me stop dwelling, but now that you know as much as I do, I must in turn make sure you don't make such a mistake. Life is a risk, Aragorn, I have always said that. But its payoffs are so great, that we have no other greater duty in life than to survive, and keep our people alive. We are entering a time where elves are no longer needed or wanted, but I hope that through you and others, that we will not be forgotten. Maybe, sometime in the future, there will never again be need for such talks as these. But as long as we fight for the good of all, there will always be those who fight to oppose." "My friend, never before have you spoken so, but I am honored to hear you say such things." Taking the ancient elf's hand in his, he pressed it to his lips, and promised, "But as long as I survive, and as long as man survive, your people will not be forgotten, and these times not buried in history. You are of an amazing race, one that will not soon be abandoned to myth, and I can swear this unto you, no matter our future, no man under my reign, or my son's, or his son's, will forget you and your kind, Lord Elrond." And with that, the two sat in silence, friend and friend, father and son, ruler and ruler, watching the city below them, living and surviving.