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He's Gone

By Nefhiriel & Imbecamiel

Rating: T (PG-13)

Genres: Action/Adventure/Angst

A/N: I'm really, really sorry this didn't get posted till so late! We've been on vacation all week, and only just got back today. I thought we'd still be able to post earlier today, but some things came up and, well… We didn't. Heh, but enough of the obvious, here's the chapter, which I'm sure you'd all much rather read than my ramblings!

For disclaimer and notes see chapter one. Reviewer responses at bottom of chapter.

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Chapter 3

It was the only logical answer, and perhaps Legolas knew it was the only logical answer—that didn't mean he believed it. At least, he couldn't bring himself believe it yet. Aragorn's death was just too harsh a reality for his numb mind to grasp.

An orc prodded him roughly in the back, but he hardly registered the pain.

They had survived so many dangers, and lived through so many situations that, at the time, had seemed could only end in both of their deaths. Yes, their "luck" had gotten them into trouble more times than either of them would have liked to confess, but it had also always gotten them back out again. This time it appeared that that so-called luck was either playing a dirty trick on them... or else it had finally run out―and at the worst time possible.

As this detached, numb feeling receded, it was replaced by overwhelming, almost panic-like, grief. Now that the disbelief was gone, reality came crashing down on him. Not even grief could obliterate the clamoring emotions he felt as his bruised mind began to pick of bits and pieces of the orc's conversation. Their mockery was not aimed at him alone; he could have born that, but now they laughed at the "pitiful human" who had died so easily.

That was the last straw for the grieving elf; they would not mock his dead friend.

"That weakling friend of yours is nothin' but warg meat now, elf." taunted one leering orc beside him.

Tears of grief transformed into tears of anger, and the orc found himself the unfortunate recipient of Legolas' icy, rage-filled glare. For a moment the orc remained almost mesmerized by the elf's intense blue eyes, threatening a painful death, then with a snarl the orc moved past him.

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Aragorn woke slowly. He didn't want to wake at all; his brain felt sluggish, and although it hadn't notified him yet, he had a feeling the he must be in pain—but for the life of him, he couldn't remember why. There was something else he was forgetting, something important…

Legolas.

Memories came flooding back, and - as he sat up with a jerk - so did the pain. Feeling flared through his body. He looked down in surprise at the dagger protruding from his chest, then gasped and partially collapsed again as his other wounds also chose that moment to make themselves known.

After giving himself another minute to acclimate back to the world of consciousness and feeling, he pushed himself up cautiously on his elbows. His head swam, but he stayed upright, and even managed to scoot backwards until his back rested against a tree. Then he allowed himself a short break before fixing his attention on the dagger. Sighing and gritting his teeth, he did what had to be done, grasping the weapon and pulling it out in a single motion. He gasped in pain as the warm blood ran freely out of the wound, flowing over his bound hands.

Forcing his mind off of the fire that burned in his shoulder, he awkwardly maneuvered the rough orc-blade and cut the ropes. It proved even more awkward trying to keep pressure on his shoulder wound. His hands were trembling and pitifully weak, but after what seemed like an eternity, his blood clotted. Using his last reserves of energy, he loosely bandaged his shoulder and examined, as best he could, his other wounds. None of them, in themselves, was serious, but the accumulation of broken, cracked, and bruised ribs, blood-loss and countless other small injuries were beginning to make him feel nauseated.

Despite his anxious thoughts about his friend, he begrudgingly admitted to himself the he did need to rest. Reluctantly, he leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes.

As he thought through the events of the last few days, he couldn't help but let a small, ironic smile show. He and Legolas had often joked about how, with them, just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, things always did. Now, here he was, lying beaten and exhausted beneath a tree in the middle of the woods, without horse or supplies of any kind, his only weapon one orc dagger, and Legolas was still in the hands of orcs. He couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, they'd finally reached the end. Perhaps they'd finally reached the end of the line, where things actually couldn't get any worse. That was a cheerful thought.

He tilted his head up and took a deep breath. No, he decided, bad luck like theirs couldn't possibly last forever. He conveniently ignored the fact that, so far, this "luck" of theirs had lasted them all their lives, and it wasn't likely to abandon them today.

Forcing himself towards optimistic thoughts, he planned his next move. He would take a few more moments of rest, then he would find the orc tracks…

And that was when the rain came.

First there was one drop quickly followed by another, until pretty soon there was no denying the dismal truth—it was a downpour. In less than a minute Aragorn was hopelessly soaked, and sitting miserably in a growing mud puddle.

As Aragorn sat there, shivering, hurting, and generally miserable, he wanted nothing more than to simply lie down, fall asleep, and never wake up again. In fact, the only thing keeping him from doing just that was the thought of Legolas still in the hands of the orcs. He had to get to him, to find some way of rescuing him, and he had to do it soon. As it was, the orcs had a dispiritingly long head start on him.

Groaning, he forced protesting muscles to cooperate and, after several failed tries, managed to make it to his feet. For a few moments, he simply closed his eyes and leaned against the tree, gathering his strength. When the pain had abated to somewhat manageable levels, he opened his eyes and looked around to find the direction the orcs had taken.

Despite the pouring rain, the swath of destruction that they left in their wake was easy to discern. For the first time in his life, Aragorn found himself actually grateful for destructive tendencies of orcs. He really didn't think he could have managed any complicated tracking right now.

Pushing himself away from the tree, Aragorn stumbled off on the impossible quest he had set for himself.

There were only two things that gave him even the remotest chance of catching up with them. First, while he knew the area well, they appeared to be completely ignorant of the lie of the land. Therefore, while he had only to follow their footprints, they would often be delayed by unexpected obstacles. Not infrequently during the past few days, the orcs had been forced to call a halt while scouts were sent to find a ford over a rushing stream, or a way around an impassable thicket of briars.

Ironically, the second thing in his favor was the very rain that was making him so miserable. Doubtless the mud, wet, and cold would slow down even the orcs, and he hoped that the pouring water might further swell the already rushing river, making it even more difficult for the orcs to find a passable ford.

He held some hope, also, that Sharzag might not drive them quite so hard now that they were a little farther from Rivendell; however, that, of course, could not be counted on.

What, exactly, he intended to do if - when - he caught up with them, he had not really considered. All he knew was that his best friend was in the hands of brutal enemies, and he had to, somehow, find a way to help him escape. He would think of something when the time came.

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Legolas knew that he had to make a choice. He truly did not want to go on. What was there left for him now? His grief for the loss of his friend blinded him to all that he still had. He could see no reason to fight for life and freedom now. Except…

There were yet the few last services he could give his friend. He could see to it that his body was properly buried, and he could tell his family of his fate, and that he had died bravely. But, none of those things could he do while he was still a prisoner of the orcs.

He wanted to give up, but how could he when Aragorn's body was still lying, forgotten, in the middle of the wilds? He could not so dishonor his best friend's memory. Besides that, he knew that Aragorn would not want him to surrender hope because of his loss.

So it was decided. He would watch for his opportunity.

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Aragorn tripped yet again, barely catching himself against a tree. He was exhausted. He had been walking for hours now, but he still refused to give himself more than a few minutes to lean against the tree before pushing himself onward. He dared not allow himself the luxury of sitting; he was too afraid that he would be unable to force himself back to his feet.

It was dark, but not utterly so. Some time ago the rain had finally ceased and the clouds dispersed, allowing the light of moon and stars to filter down through the trees. It was not much, perhaps, but for Aragorn's keen eyes, with a clear trail to follow, it was enough.

As he had hoped, he had seen several places where the orcs had clearly been forced to halt while a way was found around impassable places. He had also thought that they did not seem to be pushing quite so hard tonight, but he was not certain.

From the direction they appeared to be headed, he knew they must soon arrive at the river. It was sure to be swollen by the combination of snowmelt, spring rains, and now this most recent downpour. But how swollen was it? And the depth and speed of the river itself was not the only difficulty that would face them. The banks were steep here, cliffs really, that dropped off sharply, falling about a hundred feet before reaching the riverbed. He was sure they would have to turn aside some distance before they could cross. How far would they have to go before they could find a passable place?

Aragorn sighed. Wondering about such things served no purpose. He would just have to wait and see for himself what they would do. Waiting was not something that was usually difficult for him. As a ranger and a hunter, he had often been forced to endure long waits, and had developed an extraordinary amount of patience. But now, with Legolas' fate so uncertain, the helplessness, the frustration of not knowing...

He tried to push himself into a run, but his already agonizingly painful leg threatened to give out entirely, and he was forced to slow again. Worry for his friend, and the slowness of his progress ate at him, threatening to drag him down into despair.

What am I thinking? There's no way I can possibly catch up with them like this! And even if I do, what then? What can one, injured man do against all of them? Setting his face with determination, he forced his thoughts away from that hopeless pattern. I will do something, I must. The morning can't be too far off now. They will stop at first light, and I can catch up with them then. And then...well, then I will think of something. Besides, it will not be only one. Legolas will be ready to help when the right moment comes. At least... I hope he will.

Panic flared at the thought. Would Legolas be able to help? He was not sure how long the orcs had remained in their camp after he had lost consciousness. What if they had hurt Legolas further? What if he was unable to- a sudden though struck him.

They left me behind. They would not have done that, unless they thought I was dead. But if... Oh Valar! Legolas must think I'm dead as well!

His thoughts whirled madly. He had known he was not dead. It had not occurred to him before that his friend could not possibly have had any way of knowing that. He feared what it might do to Legolas, caught as he was in an already nearly hopeless situation, to believe he had just seen his best friend killed.

Eru, please, don't let him despair. Please help him hold on.

Aragorn pressed on as quickly as he was able. He had to get to Legolas as soon as possible; not only to rescue him, but to reassure him that he had not lost his best friend. Not yet, at any rate, and not as long as he had any say in the matter.

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Legolas' shoulders sagged slightly in weariness. He made no move to draw attention to himself, allowing the orcs surrounding him to temporarily forget his presence. To all outward appearances he was too tired and grief-stricken to cause any trouble.

But the orcs did not know Legolas well, for they missed the surreptitious glances which he threw around him, and the slight tenseness of his body which bespoke his readiness to act the moment he saw his opportunity.

At this very moment, he was beginning to think that that opportunity was now. They had come to the river and, finding the cliffs too steep and the river too deep to manage here, had sent scouts in both directions to find a better place to cross. Now the remaining orcs were restless. They were bored with waiting, and growing quarrelsome.

Once again he looked around. None of the orcs were paying any attention to their unresisting captive. In fact, the orc that was supposed to be restraining him had all but dropped the rope attached to his bindings.

It was time. Jerking away, Legolas backed up swiftly, then turned to run before any of the orcs were close enough to grab him. It was then that he saw the weak point of his plan. Behind him were his captors; before him was a cliff. Racing back through the entire camp was not an option, and neither was jumping over the cliff. He was oblivious to the angry shouts, the orcs grabbing at him, the shouted orders. Turning to the left, he ran along the edge of the cliff, hoping to make it to the safety of the woods before the orcs could cut him off.

But it was too late - they were already in front of him. Spinning around, he saw that they had not quite closed off that direction. He ran.

He never even saw the arrow coming. There was the twang of a bow, and then he found himself involuntarily gasping, staggering backwards towards the edge of the cliff. The sudden onrush of pain was disorienting, and he stumbled, nearly falling to his knees. Through bleary, unfocused eyes he saw the orcs swarming forward, and with a great effort, managed to pull himself back upright.

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Wearily, Aragorn sank to his knees. The positive outlook he'd held as he'd started out on this near-impossible mission was becoming bleaker with each passing moment.

He shivered as a cool, rain-freshened breeze tauntingly blew against his back. Everything ached. He passed a hand over his eyes as a bout of light-headedness washed over him. Reaching up, he tightened the bandage around his shoulder. He was loosing too much blood. As a healer he should have known better than to put so much stress on his injured body. Pushing himself to walk so far, so quickly, was not the most brilliant thing he'd done in his life. He should have known the consequences. He should have known how futile everything was in his useless, weakened state.

But each time he was tempted to give up, the thought of Legolas, still in the hands of the orcs, would force him to take yet another step. Each time he was tempted to sink to the ground and never rise again, he would remember. Then he could have hit himself for his selfishness. How could he have even considered giving up as an option? Legolas would never abandon him—how could he fail his friend now?

And once more the persisting thought brought his bowed form upright with determination. If it had not restored his energy yet, it certainly made him alert as he attempted to bring his breathing under control.

The wind swayed the branches of the tree above him, shaking loose the clinging remnants of the last rain-fall, and drenching his partially-dried clothes anew. Just as he felt a groan of frustration building in his throat, he heard the noises. Never, in all his life, had he ever felt such relief to hear the gruff voices of orcs. If Elladan and Elrohir could have seen him now, he realized as an ironic smile spread over his face, they would have thought he'd gone crazy. And indeed, he would have been inclined to agree with them. If his actions didn't qualify as insane... Well, there was no time to consider whether he was out of his mind or not. From the sound of it, the orcs were angry. That never boded well for prisoners.

Scrambling to his feet, he limped forward, wincing each time his left leg touched the ground, but otherwise ignoring the pain this last effort was causing. His legs were growing shaky, but the sound of orcs, ever growing louder, drew him on.

Finally, after having taken twenty more steps then he thought he could take, he caught his first sight of the orcs. Ducking behind a tree-trunk, he wasted no time threading his was through the trees and brush that separated him from his goal. He struggled to quiet his heavy breathing as he came close enough to hear what they were saying. However he didn't listen to their harsh voices as they fought among themselves. His eyes were glued to a weary form, shoulders slumped, standing on the fringe of the group.

Legolas.

A hot rush of anger flooded him, and his common sense only just barely kept him from recklessly dashing forward. He had to think calmly, rationally, and assess the situation before doing anything that they'd both regret later. Leaning heavily against a tree, he watched the orcs through the underbrush, refusing to consider how ridiculously impossible the whole situation was.

He'd only just forced his eyes off of Legolas to better assess the orcs, when they were jerked back to the elf. There was a change in his friend, although the orcs were too preoccupied and distracted with their own problems to notice. Before Aragorn could comprehend what was happening, Legolas had pulled free from his captors' hold. The ensuing scuffle blocked his view of Legolas, as orcs crowded forward.

Afterwards, Aragorn could never clearly recall how it all happened. He only vaguely remembered seeing Legolas one last time, backed up against the edge of the cliff. He saw the arrow protruding from his left shoulder, he saw his foot sliding backwards in the slippery mud―and then he was gone.


Well, t'would appear the Ranger's not quite dead yet. The elf, on the other hand… -eg-

Reveiwer responses:

Erulasse: LOL, mellon-nin, first to review again! -searches in drawers- Now I know I put that gold star somewhere around here... Aha! Here ya go! I'm going to run out of these things if you keep up this wonderful record : ) Hmm… -looks Saruman over- I don't know…You sure everyone wants him? LOL! Calm down, it takes a great deal more than a beating and a dagger to stop Aragorn. I thought you knew me better – I wouldn't kill him off…in the second chapter -eg- Well, good luck hunting down those orcs ; ) Thank you so much for the review! I hope you enjoyed the chapter : )

elvingirl3737: ROTFL! Ever since you used the word "womping" in "The Wrong One" I've used it to describe Aragorn-angst : D Love that word.. LOL! Yes, that was beginning to sound a tad like a bad country song… Hmm, try, "Reviewing is painless, reviewing is painless, reviewing is painless…." -g- Thank you so much for the review! I hope you enjoyed the chapter : )

sielge: Hi! I'm so glad to hear from you again : ) LOL, well, the ranger's still holding on, as you can see. Thank you so much for the review! I hope the update was soon enough : )

HarryEstel: Yes, yes, it is very intense. Hehee, well don't say I didn't warn you ; ) -looks innocent- Honestly, we just about had to flip a coin to see who had to write the last chapter! -pouts- You don't believe me : P LOL. No, of course he isn't dead (you're probably right: due to the orcs lack of knowledge concerning human antomy, LOL)! As I was telling another reviewer, we'd never kill him off…in the second chapter -eg- Thank you so much for the review! I hope you enjoyed the chapter : )

jacquelinestel: LOL! Estel chorus: "I hate you." That was great : ) Oh, and the whole thing about Orly too! -snort- So Legolas needs singing lessons? –giggles- I'm sure he does have quite an extensive collection of fan jewelry, though! Ah, so the elf's appropriated one of your drawers? I say you kill him for that! Eh, wait, I've already done that, haven't I… Heh, oh well. – shrugs- Thanks for the review!

goddesscal: Oh thank you SO much! I'm really, really glad to hear you didn't think it was too melodramatic : D Aww, and we even managed to get you on the verge of crying… LOL, sorry about the cliffy. It's not like we enjoy making our readers suffer… -eg- Heh, as you can see, there's no keeping that ranger dead for long. Thank you again: your review was a wonderful encouragement to both of us : ) Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

crazyAZN kid: LOL, well, Imbecamiel and I have been on the receiving end too: we know just how much it can mean to know that an author will update when she/he says, so we always try our hardest to. Of course, as you can see, as much as we hate it, it doesn't always work out that way : b Hmm…I see what you mean about Aragorn's death. Cami actually wrote that part (hehee, shift the blame….J/K). It's rather hard to explain our feelings about it. I guess Cami wanted his death to almost seem…well, sort of casual. I think the off-hand style kind of highlights the callousness of the orcs, and helps you feel Legolas' shock. Still, I do see your point. Well, I think we both were a little hesitant to add any more theatric "slow-motion" type stuff into this chapter – it felt a little over melodramatic as it was (did you get that sense at all? This story is just so swamped with emotion.). ROTFL! Now that's the kind of threat we fanfic authors like to hear! Dramatic and creative : D You had us both laughing so hard. I love it when reviewers overreact – it's so much fun, LOL. Thank you so much for the review!

Evergreene: LOL, nope, he's not quite as dead as he seems. Thank you so much for your review! I hope you enjoyed the chapter : )

Ainu Laire: A butter knife, eh? -backs away- Okay, okay, I believe you! -eyes butter knife- Now…put that thing down. That's a good reviewer… LOL, your review had us both laughing so hard! Yes, Aragorn, it's always wise to humor the insane fans ; )Thank you so much. Hope you enjoyed the chapter : )

Patty: Hello again! LOL, I'm afraid we only have time for weekly updates - don't you go and die of suspense, though! -g- Glad you're enjoying the angst so much. Thank you so much for the review – it means so much to us!

RMC: -g- Glad you're enjoying the Elf-angst so much. As you can see, the ranger just can't stay dead, LOL. Oh, thank you so much for the review! I'm really glad you like it : ) Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Tinorial Peredhil: -laughing hysterically- Oh mellon-nin...how can you be so consistently funny? Cami and I were laughing SO hard at your review! Btw, Cami thanks you for saving her from a particularly bad panic-attack : ) Hehee, hope Guard had fun playing tag with the orcs! LOL, so NOW who's "gone" mellon-nin? -eg- I never did like Legolas quite as much as Aragorn... He always has to steal all the lovely angst from my dear ranger - you won't miss him so very much, will you? -evil laughter- You know, I'm becoming quite attached to Moldy... -UR screaming in background- Ah yes, and you too dear UR...how could I forget you? -rolls eyes- UR: UPDATE PLEASE! Me: -covers ears- Now what did Moldy tell him to make his so...insistent? -huggles UR- But you are cute! ROTFL! That whole part with Melkor was HILLARIOUS! "Guard: Everywhere you go...Damage, damage, damage..." Thank you so much for the wonderful review, mellon-nin! Hope you liked the chapter : )

annika: LOL, as you can see, it's hard to kill that ranger. Besides...I never have the heart to seriously try ; ) Regrettably, no, this is not the sequel to TWO yet. I'd hoped to get it done more quickly, but haven't finished it quite as soon as I'd anticipated. My sister and I just got the idea for this story and, since it came together so quickly, decided to give it a go first. Hopefully I'll finish up the sequel soon.-g- I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Thank you for the review! Hope you enjoyed this chapter : )

viggomaniac: Oh yes that is a very good use for orcs...and you're right, it's probably the only one. -g- All the reviewers seem quite confident that I wouldn't kill Aragorn... -naively- Now why on earth would they think that? -gasp-The Dark Side? Me? No way am I joining with Vader! Though, as far as bad guys go, I must admit he's pretty cool... Okay, I agree, putting Aragorn through death by orc would have been pretty cruel...But come on, killing off Legolas does not make me a villain! -looks nervously at screaming fans-LOL. Well, I think I'll save you an orc-hunting trip around ME. I'd never have the heart to do in the ranger ; ) LOL, oh do I ever know what you mean about reading. When I was younger, my sister and my mom conspired against me until I finally broke-down and read a series of books. Obviously, I was thenceforth obsessed. Imbecamiel and I hardly ever fight...but when we do, you'd be pretty safe betting a book is involved ; ) Anyways, suffice it to say, I'm enjoying your choice in fanfic very much (lots of the C2 stories end up on my fav. list). Thanks so much for the insightful review! Yes, insightful. Honestly, do you think I'd be facetious about something like that? Um, on second though, don't answer that… -g- Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Sorry if some of the responses seem a bit disjointed and short. I'm afraid I'm really out of time here : P

Nefhiriel & Imbecamiel