A painful jerk suddenly woke Legolas, who gave a gasp and opened his eyes. He felt extremely groggy, and it took a minute or two for him to realize that he was cramped in a very small area, and that he was somehow in motion.

Alarm filled him and he tried to move, before realizing that it was completely impossible. Fear from the disorienting situation increased his heartbeat, and he looked around frantically, trying to make sense of it. "Aragorn!" he yelled. He got no answer, and tried to shift his body again, now becoming aware of the painful headache that gripped his skull. He groaned, halting his movements and closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself, before reopening his eyes and studying his surroundings again. His mind was completely unable to comprehend what he saw. A barrel? he realized. "How did I get in a barrel!" he exclaimed aloud.

Suddenly, he collided with something again and gasped. His head spun, and he had the sensation that his body had literally turned around. It was then that the sound of lapping water met his ears. When he realized that his barrel was floating down a lake, panic understandably gripped him.

"Help!" he shouted. "Help!" Something that felt like powder suddenly shot down his throat, causing a coughing fit. It was just as hard to cough as it was to shift his body, because of his cramped position. It made his eyes water, and since it was too dark to see, he had no idea what the substance was that was in the barrel with him. Fear gripped him at the thought that it could be some terrible poison.

Legolas gasped once more when the barrel again struck something—whether a rock or the shore, he couldn't tell. His entire body was aching, and he wondered how many collisions he had met with while unconscious…and how long he'd been in the barrel, floating down a river.

"Help!" he yelled once more, coughing again. He tried to free his hands from where they were trapped between his back and the wood, but only succeeding in freeing the left. His right arm was twisted quite uncomfortably, and he started banging on the barrel, trying to find a weak spot. The wood was very sturdy, so he banged on the end over his head. It didn't budge, and he couldn't twist his body in a way to reach the other end. I'm trapped, he thought. There is no way out!

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Aragorn woke abruptly at the sudden sound of frantic knocking. Jumping out of bed, he ran to the door and threw it open to find two very distressed dwarves standing there.

"Come with us!" Bari demanded. "We lost the elf!"

Aragorn blinked. "You lost him? How?"

"He's in a barrel, floating down Long Lake!" Jari exclaimed.

"He's what!" Aragorn sputtered, wondering if they were jesting.

The terrified expressions on the dwarves faces showed it to be quite real, so Aragorn rushed to change his nightclothes. "How did that happen!"

"Ah…no time to explain!" said Bari, afraid to tell him. "Hurry!"

Pulling on his boots, Aragorn grabbed his weapons and followed them out the door.

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Legolas tried to figure out who had done this to him—and why.

The last thing that he recalled was being exhausted and going up to his room. He remembered nothing after that, until waking to his current bizarre situation.

Light suddenly filled the barrel, and Legolas found a small hole over his head. He peered through it, seeing that dawn had risen, and he watched the trees pass him by. He was painfully jarred when the barrel struck something yet again, and he knew that if he survived this, he would be covered in bruises.

Sighing, he assessed his body to see if his unknown attackers had injured him. His head was throbbing, so he assumed that he'd been struck. His ribs were very sore, making him wonder if he'd also been kicked. He was having trouble breathing, thanks to his cramped position and whatever odd substance was in the barrel. He saw that it was white and lay mostly on the bottom, but he couldn't maneuver himself to touch it to see what it was.

Looking out the hole again, he suddenly wondered if any violence had come to Aragorn. The thought sent a stab of fear through his stomach. Was his friend likewise floating in a barrel? "Aragorn!" he shouted. "Aragorn?"

There was no answer.

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Legolas did the only thing that he could do; he prayed.

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Meanwhile, Aragorn and the two dwarves road quickly along Long Lake. The dwarves shared a horse, hanging on for dear life while occasionally shooting nervous looks at the human.

The expression on Aragorn's face was a mix of anger and fear; anger at the dwarves—who'd told him what they'd done—and fear for Legolas, who could be dead for all they knew. Aragorn didn't speak to the dwarves, hardly caring at the moment if they fell off the horse that they had such trouble riding.

They'd ridden for an hour, not finding any sign of the elf. That was both a good sign and a bad one; debris from the barrel could mean that Legolas had been swept away and drowned—especially if he had been injured in the fall from the window. Aragorn couldn't believe that the dwarves had continued with their plan after they'd dropped him. They hadn't thought that Legolas might've hit his head—lack of blood or broken bones was all that they'd considered, and both dwarves felt like utter fools.

Not finding his friend after more than an hour terrified Aragorn, for they had no idea when the rope had broken. If Legolas had been floating down the lake for most of the night…

Sighing, Aragorn ran a hand over his face, spurring his horse on faster.

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Legolas had no idea how long he'd been in the barrel, but at the moment, he would gladly have given anything to get out of it; his right leg was gripped with the worst cramp he'd ever felt in his life. His right arm was still twisted awkwardly, all of his limbs had fallen asleep, and even worse—he desperately needed to visit the bath chamber. He'd been floating without incident for so long now, that he almost wished he'd crash again; mayhap the barrel would be damaged enough that he could break out of it.

As if the lake had read his mind, the barrel suddenly slammed into a rock, but rather than damage it, it knocked Legolas' forehead against the wood, knocking him into welcome oblivion.

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Aragorn was now worried out of his mind. Legolas' barrel had floated further than he'd hoped, and he knew that the elf was in extreme danger; there was a waterfall that separated Long Lake from the river, and if Legolas went over it in the barrel…

The dwarves had the same thought, perhaps, for they looked nearly as anxious as the human.

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Legolas wasn't unconscious for very long, though he had no way of knowing that. When he blinked his eyes open again, he was disoriented before remembering what had happened. Finding himself still in the barrel, he let out a cry of frustration before trying to move and groaning from the pain. He peered through the hole in the barrel, wishing that he could make it larger and get himself out of the cursed thing. I am probably safer inside it, he realized, knowing that he'd never be able to swim thanks to his severely cramped muscles.

Sighing, he tried to shift his position again, wincing when he still could not bring his arm around to the front of his body. There wasn't enough room to maneuver, and he gave up with another groan. He realized that his head was still throbbing, but it seemed easier to endure than the terrible muscle cramps. He wondered how long he'd been floating…and where he was floating. We were in Lake Town…

Legolas gasped at the realization that he had to be floating down Long Lake. How close am I to the waterfall? he thought. Through his panicked thoughts, he suddenly became aware of another problem that nearly drove him to the edge of his sanity.

He had an itch that he could not reach.

Legolas squirmed, giving another frustrated groan. "Help!" he shouted.

TBC
(hides from readers) lol