CHAPTER THREE

These Wounds We Bear

There is nothing that fear and hope does not permit men to do.
-Marquis De Vauvenargues

Legolas opened his eyes gradually and looked wearily about himself. Sandy grit half covered the blonde Elf and stuck in his hair that as plastered like a blonde paste to his neck and face. Brushing it out of the way to better his vision, the prince saw that it as dawn. A new morning and as he laid on the sandy side of the rushing river he realized it was also a new chance. He had to admit this was not entirely what he had expected. Well, waking with the sandy grit half covering his body was expected but other than that things seemed to be going strangely.

Sighing, he suddenly coughed and a considerable amount of water spilled from his mouth. Wheezing, the blonde Elf tried to sit up and found it made things worse. Fallen trees and large rocks swirled and merged into surreal images and he sank back onto his stomach setting his cheek against the cold gritty 'soil'. It felt like everything in his body was detached. He couldn't really explain the feeling and for a temporary moment his memory lapsed and he could not bring up the slightest recollection of why he was here, half-drowned and miserable.

Then all memory of the prior night flooded back and he moaned wearily at the sad and painful thoughts. But he still had no real idea of where he was. That was more disturbing than it was annoying.

This was perfect! He thought satirically.

The sun was bright and he could feel its heat on his back. Rolling over onto his back, the nearly drowned being watched the clear sky curiously. Just last night it had been storming without mercy. Now there wasn't a cloud in the sky and the cruel heat fell to the earth's surface.

It was then that Legolas remembered where he was and he moaned once more into the hot air of the morning. "Oh, Estel. I am sorry. Where are you" Closing his eyes against his pain as much as against the bright light of the sun, which he felt he didn't deserve to see, Legolas Greenleaf resisted the urge to cry in his misery.

He had to go and find Aragorn or die trying. He knew his father would rather he came home alive and if the older Elf was here right now Legolas knew he would be getting the lecture of a lifetime.

A brightly colored, exotic bird sat on a branch nearby and Legolas saw it moving its mouth in song, but he did not hear it. He then remembered the lightning and recalled bitterly that his hearing was lost. He couldn't even hear himself breathing.

Realizing he had a gift given to him by surviving, Legolas willed himself to get up and begin to walk. He was weaponless; everything lost in the torrential rainwater that had washed him away. It was a frightening thought. If he did catch up to the Haradrim, then he would be unable to fight and he was more or less sacrificing himself to let Aragorn know he wasn't alone. As he walked he began to wonder if the 'gift' was more of a curse. As far as he was concerned his life at the moment was wretched, nothing more.

As much as Legolas wanted to be there for Aragorn, he wasn't stupid. Doing that would be what an idiot would do. He would have to rely on secrecy and the power of his cloak to hide him. But that would never work, especially if he got into the heart of their kingdom or stronghold.

Walking further, Legolas knew he was at a severe disadvantage because of his hearing loss. He could be walking into an ambush and never know it, unless he saw it set up with his own eyes. The Elven prince had never before realized how much he had relied on his healing. Glaring at the sand as he walked, as if it was its fault, the immortal's blue eyes became dark, storming slits of self-bound anger.

Looking over to his left he saw something against the horizon. A long row of moving oliphaunts. They had huge structures on their backs, swaying gently with the great beasts' slow and large strides. Legolas looked closer, squinting against the sun and his eyes widened when he saw that these oliphaunts were loaded with prisoners.

Face contorted in fear, Legolas Greenleaf watched the slave drivers lash out at the bound men simply for fun. If Aragorn was with them, Legolas was horrified to even think about what they were doing to his friend. But he was also angry. If he had his bow he might have sneaked in closer and shot some of the Haradrim warriors from their mounts. That would certainly be satisfying.

If these were the same prisoners Legolas realized that he would have little chance of rescuing Aragorn until dark came. He would have to simply trail the caravan of warriors and captives.

Stumbling and nearly falling over with weariness and strangely enough, with dehydration, the prince placed his hands on his knees and bowed over for a second to catch his breath. This was not natural and it certainly was alarming that his energy and sense of balance should be deteriorating so fast. He suspected the balancing problems spawned from his ear troubles, so there was really no way around those. His head felt so detached from his body that he placed a hand on his throat to make sure that there wasn't an empty space between his shoulders and head. Nope, his neck was there and he was surprised it wasn't broken for how twisted it felt. What his father would say if he saw him in this state, Legolas had no idea and he really was beyond caring.

O0O0O0O

It was some time later, when darkness had crept over the land and the cold winds blew once more that the oliphaunts stopped and the prisoners were lowered down to be fed and get rest. But everyone knew that there was never really a 'rest' for the prisoners, just a slight reprieve from their absolute misery. The Haradrim warriors would still perform interrogations and such things at night when there was a proper place to bind a prisoner.

Legolas shifted his feet uneasily in the wet sand and mud as he waited for the exact and right moment to sneak forward a few meager feet closer to their vast camp. Many watch fires burned and that alone told Legolas they expected the men of Gondor to retaliate.

He was being watched for.

Weaponless, the Elf had no idea what he was going to do if he was surrounded. A shadow fell over the blonde being and the prince slowly turned around to see one of the large mounts grazing in the moonlight. But something else moved… another shadow. Even though Legolas could not hear him, he knew there was a man of Harad, in the briars, watching vigilantly over the pasturing oliphaunts.

He was going to have a hard time getting past the oliphaunt's gaze. They were not fond of Elves, remembering the dark days where Elves had been forced to kill them in battles. Legolas was surprised they could remember back that far, being only animals, but they did and he had long ago accepted it as being one of nature's oddities.

Finally, after what seemed a century, Legolas crept forward a few more yards. He was thus far not discovered, but it was only a matter of time before he was taken prisoner as well. Perhaps a wiser Elf might have gone back for help, but where would he go and who would he go to? There was no one else he could confide in. He could not hear, and he knew the harsh fact that he was as good as dead at the moment as it was. But he would rather be killed trying to protect his friend or save him than he would any other way.

Narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows, the Elven prince flipped his hood over his head and pushed his face deeply into it, hoping to be less noticeable. Now that he was closer, he could see the faces of the men, Haradrim, cruel and many.

The sight of the tattooed and painted cutthroats was chilling, but the conditions of the Gondorian prisoners tore at his heart. They were bound extremely tightly and quite a fair share of them bore gruesome wounds that would in the end prove fatal. Remembering how Aragorn had a wound and realizing now that he saw his friend nowhere, the blonde being willed himself not to sigh in despair.

This had to be by far the hardest and most despairing situation he had found himself locked within for quite some time, well, he thought with an inward shake of the head, that was if you disregarded the Corsairs. But that hardly bore any remembrance and he gave a small frown as he further studied the camp about him.

There were many Harad warriors; more than he thought his father had Elven warriors. They must have gathered from every corner of the Southern country. The wind blew and Legolas held perfectly still hoping that the soft and nearly inaudible ruffles of his cloak didn't give his position away. After a few moments of nothing incidental occurring and thinking he was clear, Legolas wriggled forwards just a little in his crouched position. He was nearing the circle of firelight from one of the large watch fires and was about to stop when something slammed into him.

A look of surprise and anger crossed Legolas' fair face before he was smashed to the ground on his stomach and his chin brutally connected with the damp soil. Cursing his luck and being found and counting his blessings for not biting his own tongue off, the Elf looked around slightly bewildered. The blow had seemingly come out of nowhere and he rued the fact that if he had his hearing still he might have heard the attack coming. But as it was he did not.

He tried to roll over to see who his attacker was but whoever it was snarled his fingers in a good sized handful of golden-hair and slammed Legolas' forehead into the hard ground with violent force causing the Elf to cry out softly. Feeling blood running down his face from where his soft skin must have come in sharp contact with a rock, Legolas blinked stupidly and tried to roll over onto his back again.

He should have known that that was never going to be allowed to happen so when a strong hand twisted one of his arms abruptly if not angrily Legolas was hardly surprised. The way the arm was twisted created enough pain to convince him that the more he struggled the more pain he would find himself in. Some blood trickled into his eyes and burned them. Shaking his head to try and relieve the tickling and burning blood on his face, the prince dug his booted feet into the soft soil and tried to pry himself out of the grasp of his assailant.

It was not even meagerly affective and so he stopped and just rested his chin on the ground. It wasn't that he had given up, he just happened to know when it wasn't worth the trouble to fight because it was going to be fruitless in the end no matter how much pain you went through to get there.

Apparently satisfied that the Elf was no longer battling him, the attacker suddenly, in one swift and fluent move, flipped Legolas onto his back. The Elf stared up into the face of a Harad warrior, bright red with war paint. He scowled down at the Elf and placed a knee on Legolas' sternum, pressing it in so that it would be harmful to struggle anymore if he chose to apply any more pressure. Legolas felt the wind being slowly but most assuredly pressed from his lungs and he wheezed.

Glaring up at the man pinning him to the earth, Legolas let his eyes speak volumes about his contempt and displeasure. Nearly curling his upper lip in disdain, the Elf wondered absentmindedly what this man might look like with an arrow in his forehead. With an inward laugh Legolas decided that it would be an improvement and only felt unsatisfied that he was not able to place on there.

The man placed his spear point against the blonde prince's throat and said slowly"Elf, you will rise without any tricks. We know your kind and won't tolerate an escape attempt." Legolas didn't hear the harsh voice, but the man was speaking slow enough he could read the lips and knew roughly what was being said.

Legolas asked bitterly but with hardly any breath left to give a lethal tone"do I look stupid to you" The man had a spear to his throat, like he was going to try some sudden move to escape! That would be insanity.

Laughing, the man said"not exactly. But what you were trying to do was a fool's errand."

"What do you have here, Sarchel" asked a harsh voice, full of scorn and contempt for the other warrior, whom he really didn't like.

The man called Sarchel dug his knee further into Legolas' breast bone causing the Elf to stifle a cry and try to squirm clear of the dull pain. Something that he found highly degrading, having to squirm. "An Elf, Captain Darcíl. He was sneaking about and up to no good I warrant."

"I bet he was up to plenty of good" said the other"good thing you caught him" The Captain sneered down at the pinned Elf with scorn in his eyes. "Prince Dorrag will be very much pleased."

Legolas glared up at this new human with utter loathing and the man just smiled. That was something that got on the blonde prince's nerves, but not nearly as much as being unable to hear what was being said of him.

As he gazed up at Darcíl, he noticed that this man had many strange designs tattooed all over his chest and face. A snake wound about the man's neck, done in a bright blue color with a purple tint to outline the scales. Its eyes were made in red and long fangs protruded from its mouth in s snarl.

Legolas noticed also, that the man carried himself with much assured posture. He seemed to know exactly how much power he had and how much he could get away with. He also knew that those beneath him could be manipulated. His eyes spoke about his temper and sly nature.

Seeing Legolas looking at him he looked at the Elf and smiled brightly"welcome to the army of the Haradrim, Elf." Then, shifting his hard gaze at Sarchel he spat"have you searched him for weapons or valuable things, like maps"

The other man shook his head and said"all my strength has been at use keeping him in place." He gave the captive prince a dig with his spear point.

Darcíl rolled his eyes as though he thought Sarchel was a complete idiot, (which wasn't far from his conclusions on the other man) and drawing out his scimitar, he touched the cold hard tip to Legolas' neck and pressed. "Now search him"

Legolas felt alarm rising in his throat as he felt the buttons to his suede tunic being undone and he jerked only to feel the prick of the blade against his neck. Struggling to control his breathing, the Elf tried not to let his fear slip into his gaze. Instead he allowed all the anger he felt and what extra he could gather to give expression to his façade.

Finding no weapons hidden beneath is tunic, the man saw the belt Legolas used to hold his knives at times and daggers. Unbuckling it, he searched the sheathes for their weapons and found them not. They had all been washed away in the flood.

Getting frustrated and wanting to please Darcíl, the man moved down to Legolas' leather boots and slipped those off, checking the insides for maps or boot daggers. When he found nothing he reached his hand up and grabbed Legolas' chin. Then drawing up close to the Elven face of his captive he asked hoarsely"where are your weapons"

Legolas could not hear the question and so he could not answer, he simply tried to twist away from the other's grip. Luckily for him Darcíl stepped in and said"we will take him to Prince Dorrag. If he is weaponless then he is harmless enough and our prince can do the interrogations himself."

Sarchel snorted"I don't trust him as far as I can shoot him." He backed away from the blonde Elf and Legolas glared up at the men darkly. He was more than angry at his treatment, though he couldn't really blame them. He and his Elves would probably do the same thing to one of them if they caught him. It was something to be expected.

Captain Darcíl shifted his scimitar and then told Sarchel"run and tell the prince we bring what he has been seeking." Glaring down at Legolas, he snapped"now put your boots on" Legolas didn't hear what the man said but as soon as the spear was removed from his throat and he was allowed to rise the Elf slipped his suede green boots back on for the sheer fact that they were far more comfortable than going barefooted on this terrain. He felt uncomfortable under the scrutinizing eyes of the Haradrim captain. They gave him an eerie feeling of vulnerability.

The tickle of the scimitar never left his back as he was forced to stand with his hands in the air. One arm was twisted behind his back and then the other and Legolas winced in pain as much as with contempt as he felt cords being tied tightly around his wrists.

Shoving Legolas forward he commanded"walk and no tricks Elf. We have sentinels all about and none are afraid to place a bolt in you" he added as a reminder that Legolas was the captive and was not above the threat of death.

O0O0O0O

Aragorn gazed angrily at the man to his left. "That Elf betrayed you and now we are being sent to our deaths. If I were you and I saw him again, I would slit his filthy little throat." The man spat. "So much for Elven loyalty."

"Damn it" argued Aragorn sternly. "He didn't do it! I saw him fall! He was killed, same as our comrades." His wound was hurting badly and he was hardly in the mood to deal with the stupidity and stubbornness of some of the men.

Young Sirith sat to his right and his eyes were on his boots. He missed Legolas, who had befriended him even though he was the outcast. He knew Legolas was loyal at heart and would never willingly let himself or Thorongil get hurt.

The man to Aragorn's left snarled"you just can't admit that even your friend betrayed you, can you Captain Thorongil" The ranger watched as the other's face turned into a bitter scowl. "He even betrayed young Sirith who trailed him around like a lost puppy. He has no heart, or if he has he can't find it."

"Just leave Legolas out of this" snapped Aragorn fiercely. "I am still your superior officer and I don't want to hear anymore, am I understood" A stab of vehement pain ran through Aragorn's wound and scored his chest. Crumpling his face in pain, the man said testily"I don't want to talk about it"

Sirith looked at his captain and he felt ill.

Aragorn knew now all the men would believe that he thought Legolas was a traitor, but he couldn't help that. He as greatly disturbed that a great deal of evidence was against Legolas. But he could never believe that his friend had sold him out.

He knew that if Legolas were taken captive and threatened with anything horrible under the sun; the greatest torment an Elf could endure, he would suffer it to spare his friends.

Sirith suddenly shook Aragorn gently with his bound hands and said"Captain Thorongil, sir, they bring forth a new prisoner"

Aragorn opened his eyes with a jolt, as though he had been struck by lightning. He looked and saw Legolas walking stiffly towards the tent where he knew the Prince of the Haradrim was staying. There were harsh and quick words traded with the guards at the tent flap and then Legolas was shoved in.

Legolas stared with contempt at the man before him. He was responsible for all the death and destruction he had seen, all the hurt and turmoil. Anger seethed in Legolas heart and he narrowed his eyes at the Haradrim royalty before him. Seeing the expectant facial expression of the Haradrim lord, Legolas squared his shoulder in a way that resembled his father's form of carriage and observed with a sneer of loathing"You look disappointed. Too bad for you that I will bend my knee to no one, save my king and those I deem worthy of respect."

A sharp blow to his back with a spear shaft and Legolas found himself on his knees before the man with his head bowed in pain despite his recent words. This was a position -he decided quickly- that he didn't like very much. His blonde hair had slid to cover the slight pain on his face. He was glad his face was covered, because on top of being ready to go rabid with anger, he was humiliated. The cold humiliation only served to make his livid temper rise in a way that would make any sane person want to flee in terror or at the least feel very uncomfortable as long as Legolas still possessed his crystalline and icy blue eyes.

Prince Dorrag stood up and walked around too stand before Legolas. "You will bow on your knees before Prince Dorrag, Elf" demanded Sarchel with a sneer that equally matched Legolas' for malice and spite and he nodded to his lord as Legolas stayed knelt on the ground. Legolas felt this was kind of ironic considering he was a prince himself.

"You may be dismissed Sarchel. Captain Darcíl, stay if you will" stated the Haradrim prince as he leaned back against a large chair. The Haradrim captain nodded obediently and stepped back into the shadows, watching his liege from the darkness.

A small frown garnished his face as he watched Dorrag stare down the Elf he and Sarchel had brought. Sarchel was a stupid soldier, thought Darcíl dryly. He could follow orders, but really he was worthless when it came to plans and thinking ahead. Lazily, the captain looked at the lantern the provided some light in the tent, casting off an orange glow. He imagined that it was most likely Sarchel would have slain the Elf without thinking twice and regretted it later.

The prince of the Haradrim brushed the long blonde hair away form the captive's face with his large hand. Legolas glared up with venomous eyes that were still an understatement concerning his frame of mind.

Dorrag smirked calmly as he sank his muscular frame slowly into the comfort of the large chair. Fingering his overly large signet ring thoughtfully the man said"do you know why you were not killed"

Legolas could not hear the question except for a strange muffle sound. Well -he thought grimly- some of the hearing as returning anyway. Shifting his weight he raised his chin proudly and his eyes connected with his subjugator's in a clash of wills.

Dorrag continued scornfully"well, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise. " Turning over his plans once more in his head, he smiled at the thoughts that seemed so perfect. But even the most perfect plans could go astray. That is why he could suffer no errors, everything must be done delicately and flawlessly.

Of course with his idiot men, he highly doubted that was going to happen. His thought filled purely with scorn as he thought what morons he governed. Well, Captain Darcíl was not all that much of an idiot. He could lead men well, and not only that, conceived the mortal prince, he was excellent with creating splendid little plans that could escalate to huge disasters for the enemy.

He had wanted to capture a Firstborn since his men first shot one that for some unknown reason had been traveling south. He knew that they were in alliance with the men of Gondor. That was the entire problem. If the Elves were quiet like they used to be and continued to stay hidden in their little trees that would be fine, Sauron the Great would deal with them later. However they were coming abroad.

He had spies in many at least three out of Four Corners of the world. A disturbing message had come from the North saying that the Elves of the hidden fortress of Rivendell were with the Rangers, dying beside them and aiding them. Giving them Lembas bread and other strange attire. They were lending them their keen sight and hearing.

He had heard of two identical dark-haired Elves that were always with the rangers and abroad in Rohan, helping to keep Sauron at bay. They were supposedly the sons of Elrond but he had not the time or resources to capture them now.

The Haradrim could not afford these Firstborn to make a treaty with the Gondorians again and go to war. Their hearing and eyesight were too sharp and found the snipers Haradrim had set in trees. They discovered ambushes and found ways around them and they never tired. He also knew that they had the annoying ability to slay the oliphaunts without such much as getting their hair out of place.

He knew it was highly unlikely that the Gondorians were going to stand by and let these men he had taken remain prisoners. He also tossed over the idea in his dark mind that perhaps they would come for the Elf as well. Men who had relationships with Elves seldom broke them off unless they were forced to, unless they had a dangerous and terrifying reason to.

But Elves were even more incredulous of men, far more incredulous.

This Elf he now had in his clutches seemed to be the key to breaking the allegiance between Elves and men. But these things must be done delicately to get the proper feelings of mistrust between the races and feelings of anger…disdain.

Making an example of this Elf would be something to definitely consider, but first he had to know his name and where he came from. How else could he send a message to his King telling the Elven ruler that one of his warriors was in his clutches about to be cruelly executed?

Conceivably the young captive ranger could be the key to this bound immortal's undoing and the undoing of an alliance made long ago. Not only that, it had been long since they had held a proper Elf-friend sacrifice. One must break first, however, but where they were heading that was not going to be difficult. As a matter of fact, it would hardly be an obstacle. He had captured and broken many slaves in his time of forty years and these would be no different.

Legolas finally could not bear this man's unwavering and proud eyes staring at him as he was forced to kneel and he asked sourly"why was I brought here" His voice sounded so muffled in his own ears he could hardly believe it was his.

"So you have a voice" asked the Haradrim Prince with a mocking tone of shock. "You have been being so quiet, are you frightened?"

Legolas had been watching the man's mouth carefully and his returning hearing, though muffled allowed him discern close enough to what the man had asked. "Not of you" answered the Elf quietly but hard and in insurgence. "I have met beings that merit dread and I regret to inform you that you are not among them." His tone had changed swiftly to a sardonic and scornful utterance.

The man raised his brows and then said"I honestly didn't think you were. You carry yourself in a high manner." He was wondering if this was a mere warrior that he had captured or some sort of Elven lord. Sighing, Dorrag called Captain Darcíl forward and inquired "did you find anything on him when he was taken"

"Nothing, my lord. He appears to be weaponless" answered Darcíl forwardly. He watched as Legolas sighed with annoyance and all but rolled his eyes.

If they were going to kill him or torture him, what ever they had in mind, he wished that they would hurry up and get started. He hated this waiting for something that he knew was going to be a nightmare. What made it worse were the scorn and the lustful happiness he saw in all the men's faces. Well, the human that was behind him he knew was different.

He just looked hard, as though carved in stone. His dark eyes were alert and honest. He had nothing to hide and yet he was secretive.

"Captain, did you find out his name or where he is from" asked Dorrag with aggravation. He hated having to pull information from anybody. It was a tragic waste of time.

Darcíl frowned and said"We thought it would be best for you to do the interrogating since you know the exact information you wish to obtain and we didn't know if you wanted him harmed…"

"You mean you thought it was best, Captain Darcíl." Dorrag smiled. "I know you. You have not served me well for many years for me to blow you off." He frowned. "However, I think you have the better affect on prisoners, they seem to melt…"

A disdainful scowl came across Darcíl's face and he replied. "I have no experience with Elves. I have heard they are harder to…"

"They are, I am certain. But the only requirement that I leave you with is that he must be able to stand on a gallows when you are through with him."

Darcíl wished he was anywhere but here and he sighed inwardly. He didn't enjoy torturing prisoners. He did it because it was his lord's will -no other reason. If it were up to him, he would have left this place long ago and been a simple woodsman.

"What would you have me do with him now" inquired Darcíl quietly, dark eyes flickering.

Dorrag thought for a moment and he looked at Legolas degenerately. They had no time for drawn out 'sessions' now. He wanted the ranger to be with the Elf during the interrogation. If one didn't break under physical pain, the emotional pain would be enough. "You may place him with that ranger. But Captain, if he gets free your family will answer for you."

Darcíl nodded blankly and gripping Legolas by the upper arms he tugged the Elf to his feet. The Elven prince gave Dorrag a defiant and scathing glare before being dragged out.

Once they were clear of the tent Darcíl grabbed Legolas and slammed his back against a tree, pressing his arm threateningly across the throat of the Elven prince. He put his weight into Legolas' neck, causing the Elf to widen his eyes as he stared at the man. "Elf, let me make this as plain as I can." He drew a deep breath and then snarled"if you escape or cause a disturbance, any tricks from you…I will thrash you within an inch of your life." He was about to let Legolas away from the tree and guide him to where he was to spend the rest of the night when he halted.

"If you cause my family to suffer, I promise you, I will find you and I will capture you alive and then I will make you wish you were dead before strangling with my bare hands whatever is left." Darcíl then released his choking grip from the prince's neck and snapped"come on."

Legolas had not heard even half of all that was said, but he guessed from the dangerous light in the man's eyes and the way he was nearly strangled that he had just been threatened. He didn't know with what or for what reason, but he knew that he had better be careful.

Legolas stumbled after Darcíl's quick pace much to his utter irritation and before long, after being weaved through numerous and various tents and campfires, he found himself standing before the Gondorian prisoners. Their looks were so dark and menacing that he nearly took a step back, aghast. He knew they had hated him or at the least mistrusted him, but what he saw now was pure malice.

Eru! He was in bonds too! What more did they want? Probably him lynched, but that was too bad, at least so far. But from what he had managed to make out with his dulled hearing was that they were planning to execute him at some point. However he wasn't exactly certain as to their plans, not enough for them to make a bit of sense.

He searched the men he had earlier called his comrades for a single friendly face, but to his dismay he found none. Darcíl stopped, watching the way the Elf looked hurt slightly and lost…alone. He smiled hollowly and said"being ridiculed by your own, Elf? What was it that you did to make them hate you so" he scoffed with a disdainful jeer.

Legolas didn't reply. First of all he could barely hear, secondly, he was didn't care much about the scornful little comment and felt that it was hardly worth the breath to answer. But his heart skipped a beat when he could not find the familiar and comforting face of his best friend. Had he been killed or died? Or were they…torturing him? Legolas winced at the thought, not very happy about the reminder that he was likely to face that himself.

Darcíl shoved him and said"do not worry, you aren't staying with them anyway. We can't afford to lose you." Smacking the Elf on the back of his head, he succeeded in increasing the potency of the headache Legolas already considered nearly blinding thanks to Sarchel slamming his head into the ground and nearly fracturing his skull.

He at least knew one thing. His father was correct when he said he was thick headed. Stumbling forward again, Legolas watched the faces of the men as he passed. They were cold and hard now, anger burned in their eyes. And as much as Legolas liked to think it didn't hurt, it did…a lot.

Darcíl suddenly kicked the back of Legolas' knees and caused him to fall forward. Crumpling to the ground, the Elf grit his teeth and resisted the urge to wince as his knee scraped the rough dirt. Water seeped through the knees on his leggings, a result of the previous torrential rains that the Elf found eminently uncomfortably. He felt the captain's strong hands on his shoulders, pressing to ensure that Legolas remained where he had fallen. He then gripped Legolas' suede tunic collar and flipped the Elf backwards so he was lying on his back. A slight bit of fear sparked forth but he was quickly replaced with sorrow.

Legolas looked about him and at first was dismayed, and then he heard a soft murmur that sounded very familiar. "Captain, its Le-" Aragorn stifled Sirith's mouth.

Muttering under his breath, the ranger growled"we will be lucky if no one heard that."

He knew that chances were Legolas' real name must never be given. However, he at least knew that Legolas was here with him. He didn't know why he found comfort in his friend being with him at this time, for it meant that Legolas was going to go through the same torment, but perhaps that was the answer. It was a twisted thought in a way, but in a way it was welcomed too. They could draw strength from each other's pain and hope.

Darcíl took some rope and placed it about Legolas ankles, drawing it painfully tight and Legolas felt the compassing of his blood to his feet severed as though they had been cut off. The knot was made inescapably tight so the only way to undo it was to cut it.

Legolas grimaced and then he felt the captain's foot on his back and he held still for a moment, wondering what was going to happen next. The Haradrim man hissed venomously"remember my promise." Legolas attempted to jerked away and without warning the foot was gone.

He found himself alone with Sirith and Aragorn. The other prisoners had not seen it fit to be around the Elf, whom they loathed. Legolas wriggled over to where Aragorn was before sitting up and he said in a serious tone"let me see your wound."

The ranger shook his head"it is fine." What was Legolas going to do anyway? He was bound harshly hand and foot.

"Which definition of 'fine' are you using? May I hear it in a sentence" asked the Elf bitterly, as he looked Aragorn in the eyes with his darkened blue ones. He hadn't even heard what Aragorn had just said, but he knew that the ranger had claimed to have a perfectly fine wound. It was always the same and he didn't have to hear it, he knew it.

It was then that Legolas knew it was stupid to ask to hear it in a sentence and he slapped himself inside. Without his hearing he was missing a lot more than he ever thought he could. You could not possibly know what the full disadvantages of losing your hearing were until it was lost.

He suddenly felt Aragorn's bound hands on his shoulder and they turned him to look into the concerned silver eyes that looked Elven. Though this was not surprising considering that he was raised in a home of Elves. He saw Aragorn's mouth speak his name in a low murmur so no one else could hear it.

When Legolas didn't respond Aragorn felt his anxiety rise and he asked"Legolas? Whatever is the matter other than being bound like a convict" Legolas looked away and Aragorn was not going to have his friend hiding anything from him. Bracketing Legolas' pale face with his bound hands he rotated the Elf's head to face him. "Legolas"

Legolas knew Aragorn was saying his name. But he could not hear it and that hurt…a lot. His eyes looked at the damp ground and then at a trampled plant. He muttered quietly so Aragorn could barely hear"its not important. I am hale, really."

"But you're not" pointed out Aragorn. "And I know you well enough to know that whatever is on your mind right now is extremely troubling to you." This persistence on Aragorn's part would normally be annoying. Legolas wished to the powers at be that it was, he missed his friend's lectures. He missed the persistence that was like a constant poke in the chest telling him he was wrong.

Legolas forced a false smile and he tried to place a laugh in his voice"no. I am just weary from trying to catch up with you." Legolas knew it would sound a whole lot more authentic if he could actually hear himself and that in itself was a little humiliating. He scrutinized the frowning face of his friend for any sign that his devious attempt at lying had been well received.

If a scowl and narrowed eyes were anything like happiness and belief then he would have succeeded. However that was not the case and he winced as he realized that Aragorn knew he was in horrible discomfort.

The young Dúnadan spoke softly and Legolas knew that much from the slow way his friend's lips moved. "Legolas, I will help you, but you have to tell me." Legolas pulled his face free of Aragorn's now trembling hands.

Aragorn grabbed Legolas' face again and said firmly"Would you just look me in the eye" Legolas sighed and when he tried to pull free again Aragorn held him tightly. "I just want you to know you aren't alone. You have friends. I know you are no traitor."

The knowledge that his friend was speaking words of comfort and he was unable to hear them stung Legolas' weakening heart as affectivity as any venomous wasp might. He sighed before he shivered violently, his whole frame shaking. Sobs longed to come forth as he finally realized with bitter clarity that he was frightened without his hearing.

Choking back the tears and creating a festering lump in his throat Legolas murmured in a low and unstable voice"I can't hear…"

"Legolas…"said Aragorn in a soft and friendly voice that offered his condolences. He believed his friend. This wasn't a joke. The image of the lightning nearly turning Legolas into a charred Elf raced through his mind. It had blown Legolas' acute hearing, Aragorn realized as his heart dropped right down to his boots with a sickening draining sensation that made his stomach sick.

Scooting closer to his friend he let his actions speak louder than his words. There was not much he could do here, especially with his hands bound as they were. Gently he pressed Legolas' head down into his lap, so that one ear, his left, was facing up. He was surprised and greatly alarmed at the lack of resistance that the stubborn prince displayed.

Gingerly in the fear of causing acute pain he shifted the blonde hair away form the slender and pointed ear. Legolas winced at the touch, anticipating the pain. But none came and Aragorn's hands were very gentle. He carefully inspected the ear and found swelling. Legolas' eardrum had most likely only suffered temporary damage, but until the swelling went down he was liable not to hear a thing for days.

Legolas felt his friend's circumspection and calming fingers massaging his ear, trying to help with the loss he knew Legolas was feeling. Closing his eyes, Legolas permitted the gentle and caring feeling of his friend's love and fellowship lull him to sleep though he really didn't feel like sleeping at all.

Aragorn listened to his friend's soft and deep breathing as he worked the ear with care not to cause anymore discomfort. He smiled and Sirith came up by him, staring at Legolas carefree face.

"Will he be well, Captain" asked the young boy as he looked at the ear that was being rubbed cautiously and vigilantly.

"He would be if he was anywhere but here" answered the ranger darkly as he stared into the night for a moment. He looked back down at Legolas and saw a dark spot on the Elf's forehead, a growing bruise flecked with dried blood.

In the light of the watch fire he stopped working the ear and his fingers carefully touched the purple blotch that was set against the otherwise pale features. Legolas jerked a little and then he stopped and opened his eyes with a start. They swirled upward and he looked into Aragorn 's comforting face.

Legolas frowned and as Aragorn placed a finger to his lips"Thorongil, you shouldn't be doing this, it is I who should be seeing to you." He began to get up and Aragorn pushed him down and scowled him benevolently.

His own deep wound was throbbing with every slow and minute beat of his laboring heart. It sent thrills of prickly and concentrated pain through every fiber of his awareness. He wished his brothers were here or someone with a knowledge in healing. For a brief and actually exalted moment he felt a stab of longing for home, his brothers, his room with its warmth and comforting blankets and crackling fireplace. Above all, he longed for his Ada to wrap his arms around him and reassure him about how much he loved him and that everything was going to turnout well in the end.

It was a lonesome thought that he had not seen the old Elf in near four years since he and Legolas had been down in the South fighting; seeing and spilling so much crimson blood. They were staining their clothes with their own blood and the blood of their enemies. Now it seemed like all their labors were at an end and they would die far away from home and be missed, their fathers never knowing what became of them.

Legolas looked up at Aragorn, watching the pain on his friend's face and the moisture coming into the silver eyes, giving them a strange and misty effect, like a heavy fog over a cool and beautiful stream with dew drops hanging in the air. Suddenly the Elf realized that his vision had blurred and he felt a burning in his own two eyes.

Aragorn looked down; realizing that Legolas had seen his pain and he smiled even as the tears he felt threatened to spill. Shifting some of the blonde Elf's long hair away from his face, he pressed the head back down into his lap. "You just get some rest, Legolas." His voice was soft. Aragorn was feeling so far away and surprisingly the agony shooting through his shoulder and chest was welcomed.

He had only one wonderful thing to be extremely grateful and glad for: Legolas, who was thought to be dead, was alive.

TBC… Now are you all happy? Legolas and Aragorn are reunited! They are both captured!