Author's Notes: Thank you SO much to all who reviewed! Each one brought a smile to my lips. More personalized responses to the reviews are at the bottom of this chapter. =) Again, huge thanks to all for the feedback. I wasn't intending to write any more of the story until finals were over, but some of the reviews fed that nefarious plot bunny and now it's loose again.

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CHAPTER I
Two weeks earlier…

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Dawn approached. In the skies above, indifferent to the goings and passings of the living creatures so very far below, the mortal sun and stars wrestled for control. Slowly but surely, streaks of light began to extend across the horizon, painting bold colors of scarlet and gold, and the heavens glittered with pride as the sun rose triumphantly from battle and night was forced to furl her velvety cloak and retreat.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, shook himself awake. Growing up in Imladris, he had long learned to wake with the sun. Well actually, Aragorn reflected wryly, that had largely been because Rivendell elves had a rather aggravating tendency to sing songs of welcome to the sun and despite common belief, not all elves had melodious voices. At the memory of a particularly horrid morning song, a smile graced his youthful features.

He possessed the lean and stern face of a noble, which was framed by his shoulder-length black hair. His eyes were grey, yet on closer inspection, would could see flecks of blue. Oft times, women at bars swooned over him, yet far from enjoying the attention of pretty young maidens, Aragorn always blushed and stammered excuses before taking his leave. It was yet another thing that separated him from the men he was supposed to be leader of. Which reminded him…

Aragorn sighed and ran one hand through his hair. He was twenty-nine years of age, a mere boy to most of the Dúnedain he traveled with. They had years of experience over him and Aragorn sensed their deep resentment and distrust that a young "elf-pampered princeling" was their new Chieftain and commander. They trusted him as they loved Sauron.

"You are late to breakfast."

Aragorn jumped slightly at the voice, but quickly recovered his composure. He spoke politely, "A good morning to you, Darien."

Darien scowled. The ranger was a sturdy and solidly built man, some twenty years older than Aragorn, but unlike the young chieftain, Darien looked his age. His face was hardened and marred with battle scars and he wore a constant frown on his face, as if naught in the world could cheer him. Even a good bottle of the finest Elven cordial failed to produce a smile. He was quick to temper and slow to ease, yet in battle, he was amongst the fiercest and most loyal. However, as Darien had blatantly stated many times, he only obeyed Aragorn out of obligation to the line of Isildur and certainly not because he felt any sort of loyalty toward him.

"It is a lousy morning when the men are kept from their earned breakfast because some sloth ones among us oversleep," he said.

The familiar rude tone failed to faze Aragorn, much to Darien's disappointment. "Very well," said Aragorn. "I will ask for the pardon of the men, but until then, inform them that they have no need to wait for me to join them before beginning the morning meal."

"A most welcome gift," said Darien stiffly. His brown eyes bore defiantly into Aragorn's before he sketched an extremely short bow and ducked out of the tent.

Aragorn sighed. He had fourteen able men under his command and of them, Darien was the most openly resentful. Three of the fourteen were younger than Aragorn, around twenty-six years of age, and looked up to Aragorn with something akin to hero-worship. The remaining ten were older, including the senior Dúnedain and guide, Ratharion, but while they plainly weren't keen on Aragorn's leadership, nevertheless followed his orders and made no few disruptions. Yet Darien…he seemingly had two goals in life: to uphold his honor as a Ranger and to display as much antagonism as possible toward Aragorn.

Darien was a proud man and had good reason to be, Aragorn knew. His skills with a sword were exemplary and he was an accurate shot with a bow and arrow. A part of his resentment stemmed from the fact that he felt Aragorn's lineage had given him such an easy route to the power that Darien so coveted. After a decade more of hard work and trials, Isildur's Heir had still jumped Darien in ranks, and merely by being born!

With another heartfelt sigh, Aragorn adjusted his clothing and ducked out of the tent. He had tarried long enough. Storing his thoughts on Darien in the back of his mind, Aragorn began a purposeful walk toward where the other rangers were eating breakfast. As expected, he received little greeting and those he received were unenthusiastic.

"What plans have you for the morning, lord?" Ratharion finally spoke in a low and guttural voice, breaking the tense morning silence as unkindly as a rock flies through the air and smashes into a fortress of stone.

"To eat my fill of cram, my friend," Aragorn said lightly.

Halbarad, one of the younger rangers, gave a soft snort of laughter, but quickly masked it with a cough. Still, he shot Aragorn a sly smile and Aragorn couldn't help but smile in response. Halbarad had a boyish and instantly likeable air about him. "Did you sleep well last night, Halbarad?"

"Quite well considering the snores of some," Halbarad said and rolled his eyes in the direction of one of the senior rangers. "Not that I feel any bitterness over losing a night of sleep, mind you. Nay, none whatsoever."

Aragorn grinned broadly. "And of course I believe you."

Ratharion cleared his throat in an annoyed fashion. "Respectfully, Lord Aragorn, you stray from my question. Much as it would please us all to sit around and jest, there is much to be done and little time in which we must do it all."

"You speak wisely and only a fool would not heed," conceded Aragorn. "Very well then. We will spend the morning scouting the western forest for any signs of the Enemy before retiring to the Ranuhai Pass to repair our weapons and take some rest. My instincts tell me we will encounter a more difficult road soon and best we prepare ourselves while we may."

"Your instincts, you say?" Darien spoke up, his voice hard. "We make our plans solely on your instincts? Are we to trust them with our lives?"

Aragorn looked hard at the other man. Patience and serenity were all very good, but there were times when he wanted to simply scrap everything Lord Elrond had taught him and let loose a few arrows in Darien's direction. Yet, Aragorn reflected, the elven lord had shown him there were other and more useful weapons than bows and arrows, and now was the perfect time to use one, one which Lord Elrond was quite fond of: silence.

So he said nothing. He simply looked at Darien and allowed the tension in the air to build, and gradually, the older ranger began to shift uncomfortably and look around at others, seeking silent support. Yet everywhere he looked, his gaze was always drawn back to Aragorn by undecipherable magnetic forces between their eyes.

Then Aragorn spoke, his voice even. "You do not like me, Darien. That is not something I require. Nor do you have to trust me wholly for doubt is healthy and doubt enables us to live to see another day. Yet when you disagree with what I say, you will address the matter in a way that does not shame your family."

Darien flushed, but before he could respond, Aragorn stood and stretched. "I go to scout the path ahead," said he, "I will return in twenty minutes and that is when we will depart."

"Pompous young fool," Darien muttered once Aragorn was out of earshot.

However Ratharion was looking at Aragorn's back with rekindled interest. "Pompous and young he is, but mayhap, not a fool."

Many leagues away, it was in much more tranquil lands and friendlier conditions that Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, awoke. And much like his childhood friend Aragorn, Legolas was soon joined by company.

"You slept a long time."

Legolas tilted his head lazily in the direction of the voice. "Indeed I did." Less than a second later however, he straightened and hurriedly covered his bare chest with a blanket. "Ai Valar! Arwen, how came you into my rooms?"

The fair maiden of Rivendell raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him and said beguilingly, "You have not been in Rivendell long, Legolas, and though I admit I am not here often as well, I do know every secret within these halls. Doors and locks are of no trouble to me, nor are secret passageways preserved from the First Age."

Well, that was somewhat troubling to his privacy, Legolas thought with a sigh, making a mental note to speak with Lord Elrond sometime later. In the meanwhile, he fixed Arwen with what he hoped was a commanding look. "Well then. So you are in my private chambers, but what brings you here?"

Again, Arwen graced him with a mysterious smile. "After what Elladan and Elrohir did to you last night, how could I not check on your condition? That was an awful lot of wine you consumed!"

The thought of those pesky and tricky twins of Elrond made Legolas groan. "I am fine now," he mumbled, "Though those two sons of Balrogs will certainly not be fine after I am through with them!"

"You were throwing up a lot last night," Arwen said helpfully.

Legolas glared at her. "I have no wish to recall that – " he began.

"And yet there is no terrible hangover this morning? That is unusual."

Legolas grimaced. He had only vague memories of the previous night, but he thought he could remember Lord Elrond slipping him some herbs to ease his pounding headache and upset stomach. "And why is it, my lady, that you sound so disappointed?"

Oh, a truly devilish look crossed Arwen's face, but less than a second later, one of near perfect innocence replaced it. "Be very careful what you accuse me of, Legolas," she laughed. "You never know when my hand might slip over your wine at dinner. It would be so simple and yet so…entertaining."

Legolas attempted to glare at her, the deceptively dulcet daughter of the Lord Elrond, but his mirth overcame him and he joined her in laughter. "My lady Arwen," he said, between undignified snorts of laughter. "These past three weeks in Rivendell have been truly brightened by your light. Never has a diplomatic mission been so entertaining, as you so rightfully put it."

"I am glad to hear that, Legolas."

"I almost do not wish to depart," Legolas sighed. "Now I realize why Aragorn speaks so highly of Rivendell. There is yet so much light within these lands."

At mention of Aragorn, Arwen sobered instantly. "Aye, there is light in these lands," she said softly, "But there is also a great pain here for him." There was a wistfulness in her tone, and also, to Legolas's surprise, a pang of regret and loss.

"There is pain for you as well," he said quietly, rising from the bed to take her hands in his. He squeezed gently, offering what support he could. He did not know why – or frankly, how! – anybody could be hurt in such a beautiful and pristine place like Rivendell, but it was clear something had happened in Rivendell that had hurt Aragorn and Arwen deeply. Oh how I wish I could help them! Legolas thought.

Arwen spoke, deep emotion coloring her voice. "I know it may be difficult for you to envision that there could be any darkness in Rivendell, Legolas. You come from a land where darkness is ever present and where it threatens to suffocate the whole of your people. Yet behind Rivendell's beauty and serenity also lurks evil and it is what drives both Estel and I to places beyond Rivendell's borders."

Although there was no admonishment behind her words, Legolas flushed all the same. "Forgive my ignorance," he murmured. "I did not know."

"Few do." For a long moment, Arwen stared distantly off out the window before she closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh. When she reopened her eyes, they were sparkling with fresh energy. "Enough of this depressing talk, Legolas. There is too much work to be done and too many other matters of greater importance. Now – " she rubbed her hands together eagerly. "Let us speak of revenge against my brothers."

Legolas blinked, and then decided perhaps it would behoove him to drop the subject and simply follow Arwen's lead. "Ah – of course."

"I do not see how you put up with that great stinking ass – "

"Halbarad," Aragorn warned.

Halbarad rapidly reviewed his statement. " – Ascent up the mountain we did yesterday," he said lamely. "What was with that horrible smell? You are certain you bathed the previous night, Aragorn?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes skyward. "Halbarad."

"Aragorn."

Despite himself, Aragorn grinned. Of all his men, Halbarad was the only one with the audacity to call him by first name and although most commanders would reprimand for failing to adhere to the strict customs that separated a commander from his warriors, Aragorn found he rather enjoyed the informality. It gave him a feeling of camaraderie that he had not experienced since he had left Rivendell nine years ago.

"You are getting elvish again."

Oh but there were times when Halbarad's insistence for overstepping the boundaries of ranks drove him to near madness! "Getting elvish?" Aragorn repeated, knitting his eyebrows together as he regarded the other man.

"It is when you take a complete leave of your senses and stare vaguely off into the distance as if the trees or fronds are speaking to you."

"A complete leave of my senses?"

"It is also when you repeat everything I say with a question," Halbarad said, making an admirable attempt at a straight face. "Now, Aragorn, I have not been around elves as much as you have, but I do know some of their queer habits! And I say you possess a frightening number of them."

Whenever Aragorn was unsure of how to respond, he would fall back on his standard answer, one that Lord Elrond had painstakingly drilled into him. "Thank you, Halbarad."

Both of Halbarad's eyes widened and he gaped at Aragorn. "Did you just thank me for attempting to insult you and your disturbing elvish habits?"

This time, a retort came to Aragorn's mind. "Oh so insulting me was what you were attempting to do?"

"Oh that is a fine response," Halbarad complimented. "Insulting my ability to insult."

Should I say 'thank you' again? Aragorn wondered. It had also been a long time since he had matched wits with another. Oh Valar, he was out of practice! What would Elrohir and Elladan say when – if - he returned to Rivendell? He settled instead for brushing an errant lock of hair out of his face before returning to his task of sharpening his assorted daggers. The rangers were resting for the night and using the time to prepare for the vague yet ominous and approaching wave of evil Aragorn sensed.

"No response?" Halbarad grinned. "Am I to assume I win?"

Aragorn shot him a look of great exasperation. "Assume what you will."

"Then thank you, my lord, for the permission."

"Oh keep quiet, Halbarad!" Darien snapped from across the camp. The older ranger looked up from his bedroll and scowled darkly at both Aragorn and Halbarad. He directed his next words at Aragorn. "You say you sense an upcoming danger, yet when your men attempt to rest, you insist upon making such a racket to wake the dead!"

"My apologies," Aragorn murmured, grateful that the flickering fire and dark night could hide his flush. He had forgotten that he was the leader of this group of men and that he was responsible for their welfare. When he quibbled with Halbarad, many times he forgot he was no longer just a boy, but a chieftain.

Sensing Aragorn's surrender into silence, Halbarad heaved a sigh and focused on whetting his long knife. Grateful that Halbarad had followed his lead, Aragorn once more allowed his mind to wander. Oh there was a darkness approaching them rapidly, for his foresight had been very clear on that. But how Aragorn wished for more details! When and how? What was this darkness and what form would it appear in? Would it be something that could be fought or was it some internal strife Aragorn sensed?

His eyes flickered to Darien, who was now curled up by the fire. Indeed the older ranger was no supporter of Aragorn, but would he truly do anything harmful against either Aragorn or the other rangers? Aragorn most fervently hoped not, and yet, men under his command had betrayed him in the past before. Through painful experience, Aragorn had learned that few could be completely trusted and that oft times, those who ought to be trusted most, betrayed most.

Aragorn ran his tongue over his lips as he contemplated the situation. Then he sighed. Nay, he should not - could not – completely trust Darien. The young ranger sharpened his senses even as he sharpened his knife. Not only did he have enemies from outside, he had enemies within.

tbc

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Arwens-pet-hamster: First off, I love the penname! XD Thanks so much for the feedback! I'm glad someone has to suffer from Evil Plot Bunnies With Really Sharp Teeth (TM) too.

Kale: You - you - you - sputters AGH! I haven't spoken with you in ages! hugs to death How've been doing? Sign onto AIM sometime! It should almost be summer for you too. Mwahaha. And yes, I've changed my penname yet again. Shut up. It's not like you don't have fifty or so online names. =P

Taraisilwen: Thanks for the CC! I agree with you a lot; Aragorn sounds like he sat upon a rather large hedgehog or something of the sort. At the moment, I'm trying to weave a credible backstory which will explain why he's so possessive and furious with Legolas. There'll also be plenty of "I'm not worthy" Aragorn angst later on. Thanks for pointing out that Aragorn would feel that way; that completely slipped my mind. =D I hope you stick with the story and continue to provide the feedback.

walk the sky: Walk! It's been ages since I've spoken with you too. Thanks for the offer to beta; you're the GAL for beta-ing. .

IMTrinity: Thank you so much for the kind feedback! It brought a huge smile to my face.

Tanarian: Lol BINGO! You've hit on exactly what I'm hoping to write in future chapters. I hope they'll meet your expectations. .

Beebo: Another Legolas-torture fan! highfive

Inu-Lover: Thanks, Inu-Lover! I love Aragorn and Legolas friendship fics, but in the end, I'm a person who loves conflict too much. =D

Aislynn Crowdaughter: Thanks for the review, Aislynn! As for whether or not Arwen loves Legolas back...in all honesty, I have no idea! I hope she'll tell me sometime during the writing of the story.

Joey: A big hug back for the kind review! .