CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Shrinking Hope

'You idiot! Think of something!' the annoying voice in Legolas' head scolded him as the men drew about the trapped Elf and ranger, ready to fulfill their captain's commands. The prince noted the alarm that was shooting through his awareness as the men formed a small, tight circle around them as they advanced. Why was he really not too surprised with this turn of events? Shaking his head inwardly, he felt a steady and sure fury building up inside. 'You had better think a little quicker, before they kill him. You only have a little window of time left.'

'I know that!' the other side of his thoughts countered in agitation.

Frowning, Legolas clenched his sweating hands into fists and felt the knife in one hand, the one he had been given by Dorrag, the only thing he had for protection right now. It was too small to be of much service to fight free with, Legolas realized, disappointed. He noticed Aragorn pressing closer to him as the men's circle drew tighter.

One of them men came and grabbed hold of one of his wrists, trying to twist his arm behind his back, but Legolas resisted strongly, jerking his arms free and spinning around to face the adversary. Suddenly he drove himself forward, slamming violently into the group of men on one side of the circle, and jabbing his elbow sharply into the stomach of one that gripped him from behind at a poor attempt to pin his arms to his sides. The Haradrim warrior fell away with a grunt and Legolas continued to kick and jerk around, making it very difficult for them to get a grip on him and keep it long enough to bind his hands with a rope.

Seeing some men trapping Aragorn with scimitars drawn, Legolas abruptly spun and slammed himself into those men as well, knocking them away from Aragorn and into the dirt. The ranger stumbled a couple steps, glancing worriedly over at the Elf who was being grappled slowly but surely by men from all sides. 'Stubborn, damned Elf!' Aragorn growled mentally.

"Run you reckless human!" Legolas called to Aragorn urgently in the Grey Tongue before someone managed to grab his forearm and twist it behind him prior to delivering a powerful blow to his abdomen, causing him to sink to his knees partway.

Aragorn took a few steps towards the Elf, who was fighting with all he had, not so much to get away as to create a diversion to give his friend a window of time to escape. Though escaping himself would be a bonus, the Elf decided. Being forced to his knees, Legolas valiantly tried to remain on his feet, but his old wounds had taken more out of him than he had originally thought and he was quickly tiring.

Torn between following Legolas' wish, knowing that his friend was doing this for him, and wanting to go and fight away Legolas' foes, Aragorn stood for a moment, watching everything with a dropped jaw.

Finally, at a brutal glare from Legolas the man turned and took full advantage of every soldier present try to contain the Elf to run for the edges of the city and the desert. Cursing Legolas' selflessness, the man prayed to the Valar that the Elf would find a away to break himself free. Grimacing and nearly stopping to look back as he heard a faint cry of pain he realized that Legolas was caught and that he wasn't going to be breaking free any time soon.

Realizing now that he had a few men on his heels, the ranger tried to run faster, relying heavily on his adrenaline to give him energy as he felt his wounds catching up to him. His legs felt like useless lumps of lead and his muscles felt weaker than water.

Legolas finally found himself pinned with his stomach to the ground and his chin resting on the sandy soil as his arms were pulled behind him and twisted painfully. His knife had been knocked out of his grasp and picked up by Cortanyar some time ago. Gritting his teeth he recognized the annoying and slightly aching feeling of a boot being placed between his shoulders and ground in torturously. This was one of the most uncomfortable positions he had been in for a few days, the Elf mused irritably. His mutinous glower that he cast at Cortanyar was rewarded with a kicked directly beneath is chin that caused his head to snap up and his teeth to clench abruptly, causing him to narrowly miss biting his tongue.

Wriggling, still trying to buy Aragorn time, the prince tried to roll over and kick out at his captors but a sharp kick commenced, slamming into one of his damaged ribs, eliciting a strangled cry form the Elf, who attempted to curl in on himself. But at the moment the seemingly endless amount of hands still trying to binds his own were doing a good job of preventing that. Struggling to try and crawl forward at least an inch, just for the sake of resisting, even if it was futile, Legolas stopped and bit his lower lip when another kick was placed soundly into his stomach.

A man reached down and tangled his rough fingers in the matted and dirty tresses of the Elf's golden hair before bring the head up and quickly slamming it into the ground, dazing Legolas for a brief moment with violent pain. World spinning out of focus in an annoyingly painful way, Legolas closed his eyes and winced as he felt the bonds tighten about his wrists and the circulation be cut off from his fingers…again. What was this, the fourth time he had been bound by these people? Maybe the third? Certainly no less than that. Working hard to ignore the pain and the irritation that came from having one's wrists bound unnecessarily tight, Legolas opened his blue orbs, which now blazed with a fury.

Cortanyar stared down at him with a smile on his face. "End of the line, Elf. You lead us on a merry chase, but it stops here." Drawing his foot back he quickly put a cruel amount of force behind it and rammed it into the defenseless Elf's side harshly, causing the prince to moan in affliction and curl in feebly on himself. Not satisfied as the Elf lay in the dirt and muck, the man motioned to his warriors and they all began to ruthlessly kick their captive in the side, anywhere they could make contact with his weakened body.

Crying out as one booted foot found is mark on his face, the prince felt blood run from his nose and when another blow struck his mouth, the Elf tasted the coppery and familiar flavor of his blood rushing from a broken lip. He could feel the bruises rising on his face and sides and winced as he saw the boot near his face drawn back again. Breathing accelerating, the prince jerked his face to the side to try and avoid another blow.

He thought he heard a command for the men to stop their abuse and when the blows ceased to fall he cautiously opened his eyes and blinked, which was even painful. Everything hurt and all he could do was lay breathlessly in the street as Cortanyar stood over him with a malevolent smile. Grabbing a decent sized handful of blonde hair, the man jerked the Elf up to his knees and sneered in his captive's paled face, "thought you wouldn't receive anything in return for your little game?" He released the Elf with a downward thrust. "You thought wrong." Glaring at the Elf he decided he didn't want him out here in the open and spat at him before snapping, "oh, get up you lazy Elf!" Drawing back his boot he connected it again into the prince's side and waiting a moment to savor the cry of pain the kick bought.

Grabbing Legolas angrily by his upper arm, he ground his fingers into the Elf's already bruised flesh as he pulled him to his feet. The battered captive stumbled after the Haradrim captain in a daze as pain hammered through his head and drowned out all his senses. How hard had he been hit? More importantly, how often? Unable to answer these questions, Legolas nearly stumbled over the body of a man that lay in the street, one of the town's folk. Blood ran from the man's mouth and nose in two tiny trickles, making Legolas look away in disgust.

Running into one of his underlings, Cortanyar asked gruffly, "is the village secure?" He shoved Legolas over a bit as he spoke and the dazed Elf didn't resist but simply countered his feet to avoid falling. Watching the exchange between the soldiers with a curious look on his face, the prince realized he was favoring on leg. It must have been hurt in the scuffle. Wincing as he forced himself to apply weight to it in order to test it out he was happy to know it wasn't broken, maybe he had a minor sprain…

"The village is secure, sir. The rebels have fled or were killed," came the courteous and prompt response. He nodded curiously at the bound Elf, standing a foot or so off but close enough that Cortanyar could reach out and grab him in a heartbeat. Although it wasn't like that mattered, because Legolas was too dazed to even think about an escape attempt let alone try and pull one off. "So is he the one we came for, sir?"

"One of them, anyway. The other is not so important. He is dead, if anyone asks you," Cortanyar growled out the threat gruffly, eyeing the warrior before him with a foreboding glare.

"He is dead. Good, sir." The warrior saluted before going off at a nod from his captain to attend his duties.

Cortanyar stood there for a moment before turning to Legolas and pulling him closer. "As for you," he snarled contemptuously. "I have a little gift for you much in thanks to your constant resistance and escape." Taking a rope, he tied a small loop at one end and threaded the other end of the cord through it, creating a noose. Legolas jerked his head away, loath to be touched by this human whom he had no respect for. He hardly had been with this man more than a few minutes and he already wished he would drop dead.

The result of Legolas' warding off was a sharp and inevitable cuff on the ear before the rope was placed around his neck and cinched tight while Cortanyar held the other end, allowing it to serve as a lead to guide his captive. Legolas cast him a glare of pure contempt and loathing as he looked at the rope placed about his neck as though he were an animal.

"No escapes this time, Elf. You have a date with the scaffolding and you are going to keep it," he growled, giving the leash a sudden and vicious tug and yanking the blonde prince forward a few steps before Legolas found the courage to rebel once more and stop moving. For some odd reason they didn't want to know his name anymore and that disturbed him. "I was hoping you would be this stupid," the man purred and taking a lash from his belt he promptly struck the Elf across his bare shoulders, resulting an audible smack. Legolas gave a soft cry that was barely heard as he grimaced. Clenching his bound hands into tight balls, the Elf walked forward a few steps and then a few more, slowly allowing himself to be lead away.

As he walked forward in a haze, the prince wondered dreamily where Aragorn was? He had run but he had been hunted down and killed? Legolas didn't know and the fear of not knowing gnawed away at his heart before wrapping it in darkness and causing his once growing feelings of hope to begin to shrink. He felt more wretched than he had in prison…all because he simply didn't know what had become of Aragorn. The worst thing was not knowing and he felt himself shiver.

Cortanyar looked back, apparently angry. Legolas watched his face contort in rage before he realized that in his daze he had ceased to walk and was no longer following. Suddenly the rope cut into his neck as it was yanked forward with a stunning amount of force. The world began to spin and Legolas felt like he was floating high above the ground like a cloud.

He didn't notice that he was falling until he struck the ground and began to see black spots appearing, blurring his vision which was already moving and changing shape as things merged and spun. Lying on his side, the Elf didn't resist the many hands that began to grab him and lift him up from the muddy earth. He was simply feeling a bit more winded than he had thought from all the kicks and punches he had received.

But there was something else wrong, he noticed when he tried to inhale.

Nothing came into his windpipe. He wheezed and felt his lungs growing tight as they longed for one simple breath that they couldn't have. A slow clarity broke over him, as he understood that he was suffocating, the noose was far too tight. The black spots were merging with yellow ones and he couldn't see anything so he jerked when he felt cold steel brush against his neck. A hand held his head firmly and still while he felt other's pulling at the rope that was slowly killing him.

'I am dying,' a detached voice mused dreamily and he couldn't disagree. Something slithered free of his neck following a loud snap as though something had been pulled apart. The noose was off his neck, Legolas realized with a slight smile but he couldn't pull himself back and even as he felt his lungs fill with air, pumping sweet oxygen into his air deprived body, Legolas went completely limp.

His eyes rolled back into his head and his seemed to stop everything, even breathing. Cortanyar shoved men out of the way and glowered down at the Elf and then at the men around him who had worked to cut the suffocating ropes free. "Well?" he sneered. "He isn't dead, you mindless fools!"

Taking the prone immortal hastily from the arms of the shocked men, the captain carried him to a watering trough that was positioned nearby the inn for convenience purposes.

Without a second thought he dropped the Elf to the ground, noting how the immortal still didn't stir. Then, eyeing his surroundings scrupulously and impatiently he discovered a bucket near one end of the trough. Filling it with the icy cold water he drew it back out and then positioned himself so he was standing over the blonde captive. Emptying the contents of the bucket onto Legolas turned back around and with a scowl filled it a second time.

'Its cold and wet,' Legolas' mind told him in a whine.

'Wake up!' Legolas realized he was shivering and that he felt oddly soggy. Something was hitting him in the face, slapping him and causing him to wince in pain each time as it struck the bruises caused by the cruel booted feet.

'Wake up!' an annoying voice continued to rush through is awareness. Oddly enough it sounded like his own but more shrill and desperate.

Blinking and spluttering water, the blonde being sat up way too fast, sending another wave of dizziness to plague his vision. Moaning, he lay back against the earth once more with a weary sigh as he breathed deeply and shuddered profusely as well as helplessly. Looking up at Cortanyar once he dared to open his eyes, Legolas worked to put the human into focus with the spinning world. It took a few frustrating tries but eventually he was able to see clearly and he glared up indignantly at the captain.

"Oh, its you again," the Elf muttered sardonically. However his words spoke volumes about this contempt and his eyes took on a malicious appearance that nearly made Cortanyar step back.

Smiling devilishly, the man answered back tensely, "aye, it is. Didn't think passing out would get you free, did you?"

"I may be a prisoner, but I am not stupid," Legolas retorted angrily, forcing himself to sit up onto his knees. The process was slow and Cortanyar watched in amusement as the prince shook his hammering head, trying to clear it of the potent headache that it possessed. He felt his fury building again and glancing around at the men he made sure to give every single last one of them a glare to remember. To his own amusement he saw a few withdraw cautiously. A tense and small smile spread across his face.

"Oh, I know you aren't stupid, Elf," Cortanyar returned with an equal smile that Legolas thought had a bit more ice and steel reflecting in it than he felt comfortable seeing. Glancing at two of his men he gave a curt nod and stepped back, watching as Legolas looked around quickly in alarm.

The two warriors quickly came and grabbed Legolas by his upper arms, pulling him roughly to his feet, not caring if they caused any more hurt. Shoving Legolas past the captain, the men began to lead him away. Wondering what was about to happen but unwilling to convey the dread gathering in the depths of his stomach, the prince looked stonily ahead.

O0O0O0O0O0O

Aragorn stopped when he knew he had ditched the men that had been pursuing him. Wearily, he sagged against one of the houses as he hid in the shadows, concealed by the darkness lingering before the dawn. His wounds were catching up and he felt like he might be sick, pass out or die…maybe all three. Sweat beading his brow, the man slid to the ground, kneeling and leaning his head against the building for support.

Legolas was captured, captured for him and that thought hurt, it hurt a lot. He doubted if someone took a spoon and carved his heart from his chest with it that it would hurt as much as it did now. Looking at his hands he saw they were shaking very visibly and their shaking turned into larger and more frequent tremors that ran the length of his body. The next thing he knew he heard a sob come out of nowhere and realized that he was crying softly, drawing large breaths as he did so.

Clenching his hands, the ranger worked to get a hold of his raw emotions and pressed his lips together. He didn't no what they were going to do to Legolas but he had heard the Elf cry out before he…ran. Yes, he had run! He had left this friend to fight alone! Legolas might have wanted it that way but it simply was unacceptable in Aragorn's book. He couldn't erase that soft cry from his mind as he remembered Legolas being grappled by all those men. Who knew what they were doing to the prince right now and here he was, hiding behind a house like a criminal?

Aragorn felt more than disloyal, he felt like a traitor. He had stayed with Legolas and then when they had captured the prince he had ran, ran as quickly as his legs could carry him. Not finding any words to describe his inner misery, Aragorn moaned wondering if he had stayed that things would have worked out differently. Maybe he could have saved his friend and himself, just maybe.

Or even if he couldn't have saved himself he might have been able to spare Legolas.

Valar! These men mean to have Legolas publicly executed like common felon and Elbereth knew how they meant to have that accomplished! He doubted it would be a clean death and he wouldn't put some beforehand torture out of the question for them either.

Anger towards himself and everything that had happened so far seethed in his heart. Eru, he remembered Legolas' hands, burned from scooping the fire out with his bare hands to get to him in time. He knew those would be excruciatingly painful in the near future and he doubted that Legolas was going to get any medical attention.

Legolas had been so steadfast and loyal that it hurt Aragorn to think of the Elf bound or being tortured because he had dared to escape these men and then get captured again for his sake. A feeling was spreading quickly in Aragorn's chest that reminded him of a mirror shattering and the tendril cracks fanning out to the edges before splintering into a thousand shards. 'So this is what it feels like to have a broken heart?' he asked himself in his head. It hurt a whole lot more than he had ever imagined it could. His eyes shut and his brow crinkled as his face became distorted with emotional and physical pain.

At that moment he made a promise. He didn't know how he would keep it, only that he would. He was not going to let Legolas get put to death. He would spare his friend one way or another. If he had to forfeit his own life in the process he could stand that, but what he couldn't stand was someone as true and loyal as Legolas being tortured and murdered because of him.

There were some people he was going to make pay for their dirty work, oh yes, there were quite a few actually. Dorrag was at the top of the list, followed by Sarchel and then by Darcíl and any other Haradrim who had so much as thought of forcing a scream from the Elf.

He then thought of his men. He must get them out as well, he knew. But that was going to be a difficult task because he didn't know the first thing about where they were if you disregarded the fact they were somewhere in Harad. But he was their captain and knew without a second thought he must find them and bring them home to their waiting families. If he didn't he would be a traitor to them as well and he didn't want to twice be committing a treason.

Waiting families….

Elladan and Elrohir! Valar he must he have hurt them deeply. After all he hadn't written home to his father or to his brothers in two years at least. He wouldn't be surprised if they had given him up for dead. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized the pain he must have put them through, however completely unintentional it had been.

Legolas' father, Thranduil must be beside himself right now with pain and emotional torment. Aragorn couldn't imagine the anguish the elder Elf was going through because of the uncertainty of Legolas' absence, not knowing whether his son was alive or dead, free or in pain somewhere on the face of Middle Earth. He knew that Legolas was all Thranduil had left because Legolas had never had any siblings and his mother had been murdered by orcs long ago. If for no one other than Thranduil's sake he had to get Legolas home.

Tears had stopped flowing from his eyes and now they were replaced with a hard and determined look that appeared cold and lethal.

O0O0O0O0O0O

Legolas gazed around the room as he was shoved with his back against the wall and held there with an already bloody blade against the pale skin of his vulnerable throat. He recognized this house very well, it had only been a brief time since he had last been in it, but thanks to Damrod and his sister Mytra he had the opportunity to see it at least once. The windows were shattered out of it and it was barren of much of anything but it seemed to be unburned and relatively unharmed compared to what the rest of the town had suffered. Wincing as the blade slipped slightly and very nearly cut into the soft skin of his neck, the prince thought grimly, 'wonderful, this has to be the fourth knife put to my throat in less than a few weeks!'

A tiny voice in his head was about to point out that one of those threatening knives had been one he had put their himself when his thoughts were rudely interrupted as the man pinning him roughly to the wall shook him and growled angrily, "try to get away Elf, and I won't hesitate to put you in your place." Legolas felt the weight of the threat as being genuine but it didn't necessarily worry him and in fact, one part of him was laughing insulting at the idea. That must be the insane half of his mind, he told himself wryly before taking the risk to show his disapproving attitude towards his capture.

Openly sneering, the prince snorted to show his doubt before he was backhanded for his insolence and evident disrespect of his captors. Ignoring the feeling of a hot flush rushing to his cheeks, the Elf turned his attention to the men to his right. He sighed when he noticed they were pounding two rings into the wall, obviously meant to have his wrists tied to and convenient, they were going to be above his head. Groaning silently, Legolas realized he might as well accept the fact that these warriors were going to have more 'fun' with him before the night was out. He had expected as much but that didn't mean he was about to welcome it.

The rings were large and iron, he noted dryly and probably the spikes being used to drive the chained part of them into the wall were not going to easily be removed. As he clenched his hands he nearly jumped in sudden pain as the reality of the burns he had managed to acquire became all too real and he moaned softly and nearly inaudibly despite himself. But there was one comfort, a twisted comfort, he couldn't feel his fingers fully and he could tell the circulation was definitely cut off by the harshly tight bonds they were held behind his back with.. One thing was certain; if he continued to find new ways to get his hands bound mercilessly then he was going to lose control of his fingers one of these days. Then he would kill Aragorn, he decided with an inward chuckle. After all, it was the reckless human's fault he got into these messes.

Deciding to let the men know that he didn't appreciate being held prisoner and forced to be silent, the Elf kicked out, catching the holding him against the wall by the legs and causing him to stumble over. Legolas knew he wasn't going to get away of course, but he simply felt that he must let them know he was not a happy Elf and that unhappy Elves were not good things to put into custody. As he had thought, the human obviously had never truly worked with knives before and missed slitting his throat before slamming to the ground hard.

Looking up at the Elf with pure and unaltered rage he stood up slowly, eyes locked on Legolas the entire time as he let them bore into the prince's azure ones that had taken on a smirking expression. Deciding that he didn't like being smirked at and abused by a prisoner of all people, the man grabbed Legolas by the shoulder once he was on his feet and threw him to the ground. Ordinarily Legolas would have been able to counter balance himself and remain on his feet but he was still dazed from the abuse he had received earlier and he stumbled a few feet before falling to his knees with a slight and short lived cry.

The man he had tripped stormed over, against the advice of his companions and glared down at Legolas with pure hatred in his eyes that had gone completely dark with wrath. Drawing back his foot he delivered a surprisingly strong and well aimed kick to the Elf's already beaten ribs, making the bound captive hiss and grit his teeth at the abuse he was receiving.

'Well,' an annoying voice in Legolas' head mused as the other half groaned. 'He was completely serious about his threat from earlier.' Wincing as another blow commenced and slammed into a half-healed cut from his first interrogation, Legolas heard someone give a muffled cry of pain. Curling in on himself he realized that the one who had cried out had been no other than himself. Maybe testing the man's patience was not the smartest thing to have down, he mulled the idea over in his mind. And he also made a mental note that men with hurt pride were very dangerous beings.

More well aimed and calculated kicks rammed into his gut and Legolas found that with his hands bound he had no way to ward off the punishment. And he was beginning to understand the severity of it as he could have sworn by Elbereth that he had felt one of his organs come near to breaking.

The warrior watched with wrathful pleasure and a wicked light in his eyes as the captive's feeble attempts to protect himself were becoming weaker and weaker. The prince was lying on the ground with his cheek against the floor and his face pale and contorted in misery. 'He is going to kill you,' the annoying voice told him detachedly. And Legolas decided that the annoying voice was probably right.

Trying one more time to curl into himself the blonde captive decided that it was pointless and was only causing him to exert more energy that he desperately needed to conserve. But even as the Elf lay on the ground, accepting the kicks that were now placed at his face and chest, the man didn't stop and continued on his merciless rampage.

Black spots began to blur and cover things in odd patches that were transparent and sometimes not. Blinking didn't clear them and Legolas wondered if he actually were dying because of this torment that was being inflicted. Squinting and crying out whilst jerking his head as the toe of one of the men's boots came in sharp and abrupt contact with his lip, Legolas wished he would simply pass out and that the pain would end.

The black patches became larger and took up more of his vision as sounds began to drain out and everything seemed to be going mute, like he had lost this hearing again. Suddenly a dingy yellow blotch swirled into view, placing itself in the center of the black ones before it was followed by another blotch of the same color. Dreamily, the Elf watched them, making use of anything that could take his mind off his pain. He suddenly became aware that he had cried out rather loudly.

Breathing accelerating at a far too rapid rate, Legolas was about to cry out again but then he felt choked and everything began to swiftly fade into the black and yellow spots he had been seeing.

The man charged with watching the Elf while the manacles were put in place glared down at his limp prisoner before one of the men with him looked at what had transpired with wide eyes. "You killed him!"

"No I didn't, he's out cold, but not dead," protested the other, giving Legolas a light dig in the ribs with his boot. But the prince's face had paled to a dingy gray, however his lips were not blue but they were bleeding in small trickles. Grabbing the Elven prince by his arms he pulled him up and proceeded to drag him over to where the rings were secured to the wooden wall. Damn Elf was heavier than he had thought….weren't these things supposed to be light?

O0O0O0O0O

Aragorn walked around another building, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. He had a sinking feeling in his gut as he watched the soldiers round up people who were till in the village for one odd reason or another and deliver a huge threatening spiel to them about the rewards for treason. Fortunately he saw no children and so maybe they had all escaped in time. 'I almost felt a sliver of hope,' he mused in mild frustration as he continued walking.

Stopping briefly by the corner of one building he stared curiously at the ground where he saw a good deal of red blood, bright red blood. Not that this was in any way shape or form uncommon in this type of situation but he couldn't help but feel slightly drawn to its presence and he walked over, coming to crouch beside it. Staring at it with narrowed and wondering eyes, the man was about to dismiss it and continue on his way when he felt something reach over and grab his boot.

Jumping in astonishment, Aragorn saw the thing that had grasped his boot was a hand, and a bloody hand at that! Following the length of the arm with is eyes alone, the ranger quickly saw whom it belonged to and he felt his jaw drop in surprise. Damrod! He thought Legolas had killed this man and halfway hoped he had. But still, maybe if he hadn't died there was a reason for it, something to do with fate, perhaps. Unsure, Aragorn shook his head quickly before he asked, "I thought you were dead?"

"Where…is…the Elf?" gasped the man, barely able to breath let alone speak. Aragorn could distinctly hear his chest rattling from the wound he saw with a creeping red stain on the man's chest. So the blood he had spotted on the ground had belonged to him?

"He is…I don't know…" Aragorn half-lied, not knowing what this man should be permitted to know and not know. He couldn't get over how pale Damrod's face had turned. It was a ghost of what he had been prior. A sick feeling began to gather in Aragorn's stomach and the more he tried desperately to dispel it, the worse it became. Agitating things, sick stomachs that refuse to quite.

"He is captured again…isn't he?" The man spoke as though in a haze and looking at the other human's head Aragorn could easily see why. The hair was matted with sticky blood and it looked as though he had taken a sharp blow from somewhere. The wound to his chest probably wasn't doing much to help the situation either. With a grim expression Aragorn guessed rather quickly and uncomfortably who made this wound.

Aragorn remained silent, not knowing what to say. Unfortunately, his silence gave everything away and Damrod nodded in understanding. "He is…..he managed…to get to you…though," Damrod closed his eyes wearily as pain washed over and flooded his dulling senses like it had been doing for the past few hours since he had regained consciousness.

Aragorn nodded quietly and then looked at the streets, flooding with Haradrim soldiers. He had to get moving, he really had to. Damrod kept his eyes closed as he spoke but his voice conveyed everything that Aragorn needed to know. "He is a good friend…don't lose him….friendssss…cannot be….r-r-replaced." Damrod still loathed Elves and rangers but he knew that these two had some special bond between them and he couldn't help pitying them just a little. Besides, it didn't matter who he hated or cared for, he was dying.

"Rest assured, I won't let him die," Aragorn said quietly. "I promise that."

Damrod would have shook his head if he had been able to truly move but his muscles were failing him. Forcing himself to form words and try and be somewhat articulate, the dying warrior opened his eyes, a strange sense of urgency in them. "You don't…understand. Dorrag will…. Will…. Break him." He drew a guttural and shaking breath as he felt his organs shutting down and his blood turning a fascinating temperature akin to ice. He had never felt this way before…it was frightening if not interesting. "The Elf will be….killed…in the end."

Aragorn's voice turned hard in a way it had hardly ever been before. His eyes looked like the coldest stones in existence set in the iciest lake in the dead of winter. "Never."

Damrod stopping striving to convey anything to the ranger but closed his eyes. He had never heard such cold and merciless determination come from anyone. He had never known one word could carry so much weight and deep emotion. And he wouldn't be surprised if part of the weight it carried was the weight of truth, at least of judging by the tenacity in one's voice was any guide. But then again, the man knew that Dorrag was not one to give up, not at all, and he would rather die than allow himself to submit to failure. But hearing the frostbitten conviction in Aragorn's voice, he knew that the ranger was of the same frame of mind as he guessed the Elf was. One of those three was going to lose…was going to die.

Die…

Detachedly, Damrod became aware that he was feeling very tired, like he was draining. Black spots colored his vision and he realized everything was fading into the background and his heart was laboring to beat…it actually hurt. He felt like he couldn't breath as though his lungs were as limp and useless as wet bread still soaking in water. But then again he felt like he had been filled with water at one point and then wrung out and hung out on a clothesline before being snapped around by the wind….

The black spots took over his entire field of vision….

Aragorn watched as Damrod drew one last breath and then his chest deflated and he slipped away beyond the circles of the earth. As Aragorn looked at the dead man he knew with an uncomfortable and undeniable feeling that Legolas had killed him…had tortured him. But Legolas had done it to find him, to save him from the soldiers. But there was a small comfort that was still lurking in his heart, that Legolas would never kill a man unless he had to and there was absolutely no other option, or unless he was severely stressed. Legolas did have old memories that reached far back…. But surely he would not let them cloud his reason? Aragorn couldn't believe that and standing up, the ranger decided that the sooner he was out of the city, the better it would be.

He would intercept his friend and the convoy before they reached Sygul and Legolas was put to death or worse. He didn't know if he would live, but he knew that Legolas would, he just knew it.

TBC…..Please review! Please! Thank you!

Thanks for all the reviews from chapter 21.