Author's Note: This chapter reveals what was done to Legolas at the end of the last. I have been toying with this idea for a really long time, but resisted writing it, especially after having read a few stored on fanfiction.net that dealt brilliantly with a similar themeor should I say affliction? My muse won out, finally, and here's my take on a staple idea of LOTR fanfiction. Give it a chance. I write plenty of angst to make it worthwhile.

DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien, The Tolkien Family, New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillipa Boyens own this stuff. I don't. I am only borrowing the universe because it's so much fun! I am making no money from this.

See replies to reviews at the bottom.

Please read and review.

Encroaching Darkness by Ecri

Part 2

Sauron watched through Saruman's eyes as his wizard placed his curse upon the unfortunate elf who had befriended Isildur's Heir. The elf had placed himself between this man who would be king and Sauron's plans. It was inevitable that Sauron would have to make the elf suffer for such effrontery.

Saruman's eyes beheld the elf falling and hitting the ground, and Sauron realized, without the elf's protecting presence, he could easily have Saruman dispatch the human and be rid of his troubles. Saruman was devious and had planned ahead believing Sauron would ask this of him. He crept cautiously towards the sleeping human and first cast a spell over both elf and man to keep them sleeping. He then took up the Ranger's water skin and whispering a few more words in the Black Speech that, even in his unnatural unconscious state caused Legolas to moan as though in great pain, Saruman slipped several herbs into the water. Shaking it gently, he placed the tainted water back where it belonged.

The Wizard cast a last look at the elf. Pity his lord had such specific plans for the creature, for this youngest of Mirkwood's princes would make a fine specimen. Saruman nearly salivated over the thought of the orc that could be made from such an elf, or indeed, what new creature could be formed within the elf's skin. He paused, asking his master if he might take the elf after all, restore him, and use him as he had so many others of the Firstborn. Something about this elfhis affinity for Middle-earth was stronger than any other elf Saruman had met. Perhaps because he was the last born of this place. Any others to come along would be born in Valinor, though even that seemed unlikely, as even this youngster had passed the age when most elves thought of such things.

Sauron's answer came back to him, the force of it taking Saruman's balance. As he stumbled to remain upright in the face of such anger, Saruman apologized to the Dark Lord. Sauron's needs would come first.


The Istar secretly hoped one day to get his hands on the elf, whenever Sauron was finished with him. Silently, he left the camp. He ordered several wargs, birds, and other spies to remain behind and report to him so he might report to Sauron. With a great, calm, cold anticipation for the suffering he would witness, Saruman's mouth quirked into a gruesome mockery of a smile.

**

Aragorn woke feeling both refreshed and hung over, though he hardly knew how it was possible to feel both. His eyes moved of their own will towards the sky. The sun was high overhead. Legolas must have let him sleep. He rolled over slightly and his gaze fell on his elf friend. His heart leaped into his throat threatening to choke him. Legolas lay still on the ground in an unnatural position, and with an unnatural stillness. It was as though he'd been tossed there like a discarded rag.


Aragorn scrambled to his friend's side on hands and knees, too frantic to waste time getting to his feet. "Legolas!" He called as he took the elf's hand. Aragorn's eyes were wide with fear as he examined the elf for injury. Finding nothing, he called again. "Legolas! Awake my friend! Legolas!"

He was heartened to hear a low moan and then Legolas' eyes blinked open, though it seemed a great chore for him to do so. "Estel?"

Aragorn nodded. "Hananin, Legolas." (It is me.) "Can you rise?"

Legolas nodded and struggled to sit. Once upright, his eyes flew open and he turned his head to take in his surroundings. Aragorn could plainly see the fear on Legolas' face.

"What is it? What do you see?"

Legolas shook his head again. "It is rather what I do not hear. The Song" Disbelief and horror were clear upon his face. "it is gone. I hear it not."

It took Aragorn several moments to understand what Legolas was telling him. "The Song? Iluvatar's Song? How can that be?"

Legolas' eyes still drifted over everything. "I know not." The soft whisper held more grief than Aragorn would have thought possible.

"What do you remember of last night, my friend?" Aragorn knew that all was well when he'd gone to sleep. Something must have happened after that.

Legolas thought back, but could recall nothing. Fear came back to his eyes, and he looked into Aragorn's for the first time. "I do not remember. There is no thought in my mind after bidding you good night. I see only a blinding light, andI feel a great paina familiar pain" He forced his mind to bring forth images it would not release to him. "Ai! Elbereth! I cannot remember!" He raised his hands to cover his eyes and sat rocking slightly.

Aragorn swallowed hard. He had never seen Legolas in such a state, and he had thought he had seen the elf at his lowest points. What could this mean? He had no familiarity with a malady of this kind. He could not see any way for him to help. Athelas could not heal a broken memory, nor could it restore Iluvatar's song to an elf! In truth, Aragorn had never heard of an elf losing touch with the Song.

He looked at his friend, taking in the sorrow and disbelief exuded by the slowly rocking form. There was only one course of action he could think to take. "Come, Legolas. We will go to Elrond. He will be able to help you."

Legolas brought his hands slowly away from his face. Elrond! Yes! The elf lord would surely know what to do! He was easily four times as old as Legolas. Surely he had seen such as this before! He nodded, suddenly embarrassed by his emotional breakdown. He was meant to be looking after Aragorn, not the other way around! He would not fail. He got to his feet and helped Aragorn break down camp.

**

Elrohir gazed up at the sky as he and Elladan slowed to a stop. "Winter comes early, my brother." He gestured upwards to the darkening sky, knowing the clouds held snow, not rain, by the feel of the air on his skin.

Elladan followed his brother's line of sight. "I fear you are right. We must find them before the storm hits."

The younger twin nodded at his older brother hesitant to admit what thoughts haunted him. "I fear it might be too late. Something dark had touched my mind, and I believe Estel is in more danger than we'd thought."


Elladan nodded. "I feel that as well, Elrohir, but we must believe he isthey are well."

They traveled another two hours before the snow began to drift down. In moments, the light flurry became a raging storm, and the twins could barely see each other though they rode only a few feet apart.

"We must find shelter!" Elrohir shouted at Elladan. Without warning, Elladan's hand shot towards him and took hold of his horse's mane. Elrohir allowed his brother to lead him. In a few moments, they rode into a large cavern finding a respite from the falling snow.

**

Aragorn felt the chill settling through the air and knew a storm approached. Why this filled him with dread he could not tell. His wounds were not so severe as to cause concern, though they had begun to bleed again. They could not be more than a few days ride from Imladris, so an early winter storm, so often mild by any standards, would not be much of a hindrance. He pondered these thoughts for some time, not noticing the flurry of snow when it began. When he finally became aware of it, the snow had piled high upon the ground.

He turned then to Legolas, prepared to make a quip about the elf's greater stamina in withstanding such conditions to alleviate any worry his friend might have over his strange malady—being cut off from the Great Song was hard on his friend, he knew. When he glanced behind his shoulder toward the elf, however, a new fear gripped the Ranger. Legolas' attention was neither on their surroundings, nor on the worsening weather. Legolas clung to Aragorn, and, though Aragorn had thought this was for his own benefit, the Elf was obviously in need of support as well. He seemed in pain and great shivers wracked his body.

"Legolas? Mellonoin, what is it?"

It took several moments for Legolas to acknowledge his words, and when he did look at his friend, Aragorn was shocked at his appearance. The shivers continued to wrack his lithe form, and his lips had taken on a slight blue tinge. His face was red, bitten by wind and falling snow, and in his eyes he held the deepest sorrow Aragorn had beheld.

Aragorn dismounted careful not to allow his friend to fall. "Legolas!" He reached up, placing a hand on Legolas' arm, causing the elf to look down at him. Legolas, overbalanced, slipped from the horse's back and into Aragorn's arms. Aragorn struggled, not expecting the sudden fall, and Legolas seemed heavier than normal. Easing the elf to the ground, he leaned in close. "Legolas, my friend? What is it? What's wrong?"

The confusion in Legolas' eyes multiplied his fear. "Estel, I know not how, but this cold is more than I can bear. I have never felt this before. My limbs seem not my own. I cannot feel my feet or handsEstel, help me."

The anguish in Legolas' quiet voice pierced the Ranger's heart. "Easy, mellonin, I will find shelter and we will work through this oddity together."

He scanned the area, finding a small copse of trees with branches so tightly entwined that little snow could reach the ground. He moved to lift Legolas, but the stubborn elf batted his hands away and stood, prepared to walk to the copse.

Struggling to his feet, Legolas looked down with horror at the place where he stood. He took a tentative step, thinking perhaps the vision would shatter, but it did not. He looked then to Aragorn, who wore an identical expression on his face. "What has happened? What could do this?"


Aragorn shook his head amazed at the sight of Legolas sinking deep into the snow. "I know not, my friend, but let me help you."

Legolas considered this, but stubbornly shook his head. If he were doomed to walk as mortal men, he would do it. He turned again towards the copse of trees and took several steps before a great gust of wind blew him backwards sending him sprawling.


Aragorn was by his side then, lifting the startled elf and carrying him to the shelter. Once he'd settled the elf against a tree, he moved to the horse that had followed. He pulled a blanket from Legolas' packs—one Legolas had likely packed knowing his friend would need it on the long journey to Imladris—and placed it over the elf. He then settled to work building a fire and preparing a hot broth hoping to warm Legolas from the inside.

Legolas was sipping carefully at his second cup of broth when he finally felt capable of speaking about his odd ailments. "I know not what has happened, but this must be connected to the Song." He paused, pondering it all, a fear gripping his heart that he was not yet prepared to share, even with his dearest friend. Keeping it to himself for now, he waited for Aragorn's speculation. He was, after all, Lord Elrond's son. If anyone had heard of such a malady as afflicted him it would be the great Elf Lord.

"I know why you look to me with such hope in your eyes, but I am afraid I can be of no help. I know nothing of any sort of affliction that could do this to an elf, and as you have been neither pierced by any poisoned arrows, nor bitten by any creatures that I can tell, I know not what can be causing this." Aragorn studied Legolas' tired eyes, and sunken features. It was as though he saw his friend for the first time. His heart sunk as he realized he had recognized a new symptom. "I am sorry, mellonin, but your glow is gone as well. But for your ears, and the way you wear your hair, you could pass for a manor perhaps a boy, for you still seem ageless."

Legolas dropped his eyes to take in his appearance. Indeed, his glow was gone, and he sat in darkness. Darknesssomething dark

"The Black Speech" he whispered.

"What? What about it?" Aragorn demanded, his heart skipping a beat.

"I heard it."


Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas brow to check for fever.

Irritated, Legolas shook it off, but his thoughts returned to the scrap of memory he'd managed to find. "I heard the Black Speech last night after you slept. I know not what it said. I know no more of what happened, but I remember the sounds and the menacing chill I felt." He looked intently at Aragorn. "Something evil has done this."

Aragorn knew then, and guilt permeated him. "It is the Enemy. He seeks to destroy you. It is my"

Legolas held a finger to Aragorn's lips. "Do not speak so. There is no fault; there is no blame. If you are right and the Enemy has a hand in this, we cannot waste time in finding an answer, for surely as he has done this, it is not all he plans to do."

Aragorn nodded. There was no time for such thoughts. They had to find a way to reverse this. "Lord Elrond will know what to do. If he has not a cure, he will find one."

Legolas nodded. "Hannonle, mellonin." Still shivering from the cold, Legolas had another question for his friend. "How do you withstand this? I have never endured such a feeling!"


Aragorn laughed and sat close to his friend, bringing a second blanket from his pack and huddling near the elf to share their warmth. "I suppose I am accustomed to feeling it, so it no longer affects me."

"How you can be accustomed to such as this I fear I will never understand!" Legolas mumbled as he settled beneath the blankets.

**

Elladan and Elrohir picked their way carefully across the snow leading their horses. It was midmorning, and the snow had stopped just before dawn. They had decided not to burden their mounts by riding them in such a heavy snowfall, so their progress was slow.

"If Legolas hasn't found him, and Aragorn is alone in this"

Elladan cut off his brother's speech. "We do not need to think on such things. Wherever he is, Estel is well able to care for himself."

"Unless he is hurt."

"Well, we will have to assume he is not hurt."

Elrohir nodded, but felt no better. "Come, then let us move as quickly as we may."

**

Aragorn awoke to a quiet camp. Opening his eyes, he was startled to find Legolas not beside him. Scanning the area, he caught sight of a blond head a short distance away balanced precariously in a tree.


Joining his friend, he asked the obvious, unnecessary question. "What are you doing?"

Startled by his approach, Legolas lost his grip and slipped from the branch on which he stood. Aragorn moved forward then, but knew he could do nothing.


Legolas regained his balance, and shifted his weight, leaping to the ground in his accustomed manner, but shocked by his inability to execute the moves as well as he always had. Legolas had been climbing trees almost before he could walk. The trees had become as natural a habitat for him as the sky was for a bird. When he'd awoken this morning, he'd forgotten his malady, his memory taking its cue from centuries of ritual and sending him up into the nearest tree. He'd planned on scanning the area to see how severely the snow would hinder their day's travel when he'd realized he wasn't climbing as he should have been. His body wouldn't do as he wished it. Muscle memory wasn't enough as it made demands on muscles altered somehow by some evil spell. If he had not realized it before, it came home to him now, as, aloft in the trees, he struggled to maintain balance. He hadn't heard the human approach, and hearing his concerned voice almost tumbled Legolas from the tree.

"What are you doing?" Aragorn's voice reached him.

Legolas took a moment to regain both his physical and emotional equilibrium and then leaped from the tree to land shakily upon the ground with less than his usual grace. "I meant to survey our road. I'm afraid I did little more than wake you. Forgive me, my friend."

"Legolas"


The elf cut him off. "Come, we should be on our way."

"Legolas" he reached a hand out and grabbed Legolas' arm. "Saes, mellonin, hananin, Estellet me help." (Please my friend, it is me, Estel.)

Legolas was about to shrug away any offer of help, but his friend's words, the tone of his voice drove away such thoughts. "Ai! Elbereth! How can I do this? Estel! I am not myselfand that mere phrase means so much more than it should!" He stopped, glancing away from his friend and upwards into the trees' intertwining limbs. He found a beauty and grace there only another Woodland Elf would appreciate, and when he resumed speaking, Aragorn had to strain to hear him. "I cannot hear the trees. I cannot climb them. My sight seems less than half what it was, and as for my hearingI admit I feel almost deaf, though I think that is the silence that echoes the absence of Iluvatar's song." He kicked at a bit of snow, his light elven shoes wet and useless, offering no protection to the fair being who had needed no such protection before. "I sink into the snow. I do not recognize my own voice, my own laughter, my own mind!" He glanced then at his friend, but looked away almost immediately. "I do not ask how you do such things, for I have seen you endure more than I have in the last few hoursyet I cannot help but think my strengths have gone, leaving only weaknesses behind. I am afraid even to raise my bow for fear that I cannot use it as well as I have always done. I have not half the strength you have my friend, or this burden would be no burden at all."

Legolas stared at the ground unable to look Aragorn in the eye.

Aragorn felt his friend's pain keenly, and, though he knew not how to lessen it, he did know he would move Middle-earth to set this right. The Future King placed a palm on each side of his friend's face, easing the elf's head up and locking eyes with him. "You once made a vow to me. Now I make one to you. I will do all in my power, Legolas, to discover what has been done to you and who has done it. No matter what the cost, I will find a way to reverse this. That is my vow to you. You have my word."

The words brought a smile to Legolas' face. He saw Aragorn's determination, and well he remembered the vow he had taken. It had been soon after they'd met, and he had sworn to Aragorn that he would see the man take the Throne of Gondor one day. He'd sworn to assist in any way he could, to follow Aragorn through Middle-earth if that was what it took. Then he had vowed not to leave Middle-earth for the Undying Lands while his friend yet drew breath. Aragorn had been startled by his words, but once spoken, Legolas had stubbornly refused to recant.

Now, Legolas saw the passion Aragorn had poured into the vow he had just made. It mirrored the passion with which he'd sworn himself to the Mortal King. He knew Aragorn meant it. Still, he gently shook his head raising his own hands to cover Aragorn's and pull them gently from his face until he held them, almost pleadingly, clasped in front of him. "Nay, mellonin! You do not understand or you would not make such a vow. You cannot offer such a thing! No matter the cost? You have a destiny much greater than mine. If you are right about what has caused this, it was done to distract you from your goal. I will not be the cause of you turning your back on your duty."

He expected Aragorn to become angry with him. Instead Aragorn took Legolas' hand and placed it over his heart. "What feel you, Legolas?"

Legolas, confused, answered honestly. "Your heart."

"My heart. The heart of a man. Not Iluvatar. Not the Valar, or even a Maia. I am a man. No more. No less. My life is worth no more than any other man's" he raised his voice when Legolas opened his mouth to object. "except of course to those who will grieve me when I am gone. Nay, it is you who are mistaken. I will not sacrifice anyone—least of all you—to blind ambitions and the vague hope of some great destiny. If I were to do that, I would not be the man so many seem to think I am. A noble man will not stand upon his friend's backs to reach his goals."

Legolas was silent a moment. Then, he smiled. "Well-spoken, Aragorn."

Aragorn returned the smile, and together they broke camp, eating some fruit as they did so.

As he was about to help Aragorn mount Fëagaladhad, Legolas took note of the growing red stain on his friend's back. "Estel, we should see to your wounds."

"Nay. I am well."

"Truly, you lie poorly, Estel."

"And I suppose you lie well?"

"That won't work mellonin. You merely seek to distract me."

Aragorn raised his hands in surrender. "Very well."

Legolas loosened his friend's tunic and gaped at how red the bandages had become. "Estel, you bleed too much!"

Aragorn missed the seriousness in the elf's tone. "So I have been told."

"That is not what I mean! I speak not of the frequency of your injuries so much as the severity. These wounds bleed freely! More freely than when first I wrapped them. They grow worse!" Legolas turned pleading eyes on his friend demanding explanation.

Aragorn could not explain, but looked then more closely at his own wounds. "I suppose I have been rather active this morning. I will be more careful while we ride."

Legolas was not convinced, but fashioned new bandages and wrapped his friend's injuries. In moments they were riding again, though Legolas' attention was mostly on his friend. Carefully, he watched for signs of blood and bleeding, and soon the fear that Aragorn was indeed worsening drew him to move more quickly towards Imladris than any thought of his own odd condition would have done.

Hours later, Aragorn nearly fell from Fëagaladhad's back as the loss of blood finally pulled him into unconsciousness. Legolas, startled out of thoughts of his own odd condition, grabbed hold of his arm and eased him from atop the horse. Checking the bandages, the elf determined that the wounds were indeed worsening, It seemed as though the closer he drew to The Last Homely House, the worse Estel became. He cursed himself for his inattention. He should have seen how bad Estel's injuries had become! How could he ride up to Lord Elrond and explain his son had nearly died while he himself was lost in self-pity?

"You will be well, Estel. This I promise." Rewrapping Estel's wounds, Legolas hoisted the Ranger upon Fëagaladhad, and urged his horse to move as quickly as it was possible to move with two feet of snow on the ground.

To Be Continued

**

Eck and Noriel: Thanks! I'm glad I'm not the only one to wonder about that line!


Padfoor4ever: Thanks! As with my previous story, I'll try to update promptly.


Shadow Warrior: Thanks! (Blushes) that's great! I'm glad my little story caught your interest!


Tithiel Min: WOW! I'm turning ten shades of red! You flatter me! (And I love it! LOL)

Karri: Kudos for figuring it out! Yes, it's Saruman! Evil Wizard that he is, however, he isn't working alone as you can see!

PrettyLittleDuck: I hesitated to post this chapter because of what you said. I was so afraid of what I might find if I reread chapter one! I reread, and made a few corrections, but I am afraid I must have missed something. I only made minor changes maybe three or four commas and a few word changes, but it didn't seem all that bad to me, grammatically speaking. My beta had proofed everything except the orcs versus Aragorn fight, and she didn't find anything either. I ran my grammar and spelling check, and I know those aren't all together accurate, but it didn't really spot anything either. If you see something, please send an e-mail to me at ecri@comcast.net and tell me what. If anyone else sees something grammatically questionable, please let me know. Thanks for your help.

Kelly L.K.: Stay tuned! Lots of Legolas angst to come. And some Aragorn angstand, well, you get the idea.

Chloe Amethyst: Thanks so much for your review! I'm happy you stumbled onto the story, and I'm ever happier that you like it!