13

Days passed before Aragorn was able to stand and he did so on shaky legs. He was alone when he woke. He realised he was in a darkened arbour. Tree trunks formed the walls on all sides, along with growing vines and grass. He had drifted off his make shift bed of grass with foreboding. What place was this? With sore limbs he inched around the boundaries of his prison, feeling his way in the dim light. There was no sound save for the sighing of the trees and after a time Aragorn became afraid. As far as he could tell there was no way out of this place, but he dared not call out.

The place was cool but not uncomfortably so and at last he sat once again upon his bed tiredly. He had a memory of being rescued from his cruel bondage and a voice speaking his name.

"Legolas," he whispered aloud, wondering if he had imagined it all.

But from a dark recess where he had dared not go in his fumbling, was a rustle of sound as something moved. Aragorn held his breath as a dim shape moved slowly forward.

"I did not hear you awaken," Legolas said before he was close enough to see.

He was moving awkwardly and his voice sounded strange. He finally moved into the half light and Aragorn could see him. His face was all hollows and angles and for a moment Aragorn thought he was but a shade.

"Legolas," Aragorn said uncertainly and could not go on, for it seemed too impossible that Legolas was here alive and unharmed.

"What is this place? How came we here?" Aragorn asked, his voice rising in apprehension.

But Legolas shushed him and cradled his head against his chest.

"You died…" Aragorn voice was soft and muffled.

"Hear my heart beat Aragorn, I live," Legolas replied.

But Aragorn was trembling. He closed his eyes and let his head lie heavily against the softness of the shirt that Legolas wore. Absently Legolas began to stroke his hair.

"What of Talen?" Aragorn asked haltingly.

Legolas did not answer right away but continued to hold Aragorn. So long did he stay silent that Aragorn thought he had not heard the question.

"He is dead," Legolas said in a flat voice.

He felt a shudder of relief go through Aragorn.

………………………………

When he was sure that Aragorn was sleeping Legolas whispered a word and the tree limbs parted to let him pass. Outside the wind was strong and cold. Light flakes of snow drifted lazily from the sky. Legolas limped heavily to a shielded niche and slid to the chilled earth. He stretched his aching limb out and peeled off his boots. The puncture wounds from the trap were puffy and pinkish in colour. They were not healing as they should be. He closed his eyes in weariness for a moment. It was too much too soon. As much as his mind tried to shy away from the memory, Talen still haunted him. He saw him as he slept, heard his laughter in the wind. At times he thought he saw him in the shadows. Taking care of the ranger was the only thing that kept him from losing his tenuous hold on his own soul.

Legolas was not sure how many days had passed before he had regained consciousness in the wood. As he remembered, it had been bitterly cold when he had awakened and he had seen clearly that Talen was days dead. But that had not stopped him from taking care of the body. He had been sure that the ranger was lost to the world as well, with his blue lips and pale face; with fingers purple and swollen and body still and bruised. But to his surprise and relief Aragorn had responded when he touched him.

It had taken days of sweat and tears to get to them this far, to a sanctuary long unused but still strong. He had had to make the journey twice, the second time to gather what of their supplies remained after the forest creatures had had their fill. He had drunk deeply, but had not eaten. He had cared for Aragorn; massaging his unwillingly limbs back to health and slacking his raging thirst. Aragorn had burned with fever for the first few days, screaming in fear at phantom figures only he could see. Many times as he cried Legolas felt a surge of strange emotion and added his voice to the pain filled protest. But these days had not lasted very long. Even so Legolas was glad that Aragorn would live. It gave him a purpose. His fingers absently rubbed at something he held in his hands as his thoughts wandered. He sat there in the cold for many a long hour.

………………………

It was strange to feel such comfort after a series of hardships. But that is indeed how Aragorn felt as he lay curled under an adequate blanket on a bed of soft grass that still carried the faint scent of flowers. He moaned in pleasure as his sore muscles found just the right spot and he relaxed. He soon drifted into a deep sleep oblivious of the elf who stood looking down at him a bemused expression on his face. He did not awaken again until the sun has arisen the next morning and completed two marches in the sky.

…………………………

His stomach protested as he flipped over with the intention of going to sleep again. It was empty and unhappy and wasted no time in letting him know how it felt. Aragorn sat up disgruntled, his stomach growling loudly. He looked for Legolas but seemed to be alone. He wondered if the elf was perhaps still asleep in that darkened corner that lay to his left just past the gnarled old trunk. He slid off the bed with the blanket around his shoulders and padded to the spot. There was no elf evident but what he did see drew him in. There was a cache of various items stacked neatly against one wall. There were two elven made lanterns and a large bundle of tinder and flint. There was a long handled knife wrapped in oilskin, carefully stowed. There were at least two jerkins, a pair of leggings, a cloak and a blanket made of the softest wool. There was a pair of finely tooled leather boots wrapped and stored to one side.

None of the things were new; it was evident that they had been there for some years. Aragorn handled each with reverence wondering how Legolas had found this place.

"It must be that he remembers," Aragorn said out loud and a feeling of impatient excitement caught him. So lost was he in thought that he did not hear Legolas enter or come up behind him.

"Treasure hunting?" Legolas asked in a dry tone.

………………………

The meal was not nearly enough to satisfy his hunger, but Aragorn did not complain. He noticed that Legolas did not eat and thought that there was not sufficient food for them both. But when he inquired Legolas shrugged off the question without really giving an answer.

………………………

He seemed much different to Aragorn now and an awkwardness lay between them. Aragorn was burning to find out all about his past and kinfolk, but his long silences deterred the ranger. Legolas in turn felt that the ranger had withdrawn from him and thus kept silent. Things would have gone on in much the same way if Legolas' leg had not betrayed him.

On hearing his hiss of pain as he stood Aragorn immediately forgot his own weakness and badgered Legolas into revealing the wound. The area below the knee was tender and warm to the touch. It still looked torn.

"Your leg has become infected," Aragorn declared when he had finished probing.

"That is impossible, elves do not get infected by anything," Legolas replied promptly.

"Oh? Well that is good to know. But this leg that is attached to your body, my good elf, is indeed infected." Aragorn replied with some asperity looking up at him.

They glared at each other until Legolas' mouth twitched with suppressed humour. Soon they were both giggling like children.

Since he forbade Aragorn from leaving the warmth of the arbour, it was up to Legolas to collect enough snow to boil in the small pot that Aragorn had unearthed. Aragorn washed his leg carefully and applied some whole leaves to the wounds. These, that he had also had Legolas collect, would draw the poison from the wounds. Legolas did not tell him that he had had to dig out many of the leaves with his bare hands, for the snows though still very light had buried most of these fragile plants.

His leg was wrapped in one of the spare jerkins that Aragorn had patiently cut into wide strips. Legolas lay back on the grass bed tiredly as Aragorn tied a knot in the last strip.

"When last did you eat?" Aragorn asked him quietly.

Without looking him in the face Legolas said, "Sometime this morning, when I was out."

"There is no more food is there?" Aragorn surmised.

Legolas shook his head.

"You gave me all there was?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"You needed it." Legolas looked squarely at Aragorn. "Believe me I have gone for longer periods without food."

"I do not doubt it mellon nin but not like this, you are hurt, you will not recover as you should. You must eat."

Legolas nodded in agreement. "I shall, as soon as the traps catch something useful."

It was easy to fool Aragorn and Legolas did so without much remorse, for how could he explain to him that food was like ash on his tongue and the very thought of eating filled him with revulsion.

…………………

"Did you build this place?"

"Alone?" Legolas chuckled, "No. There are many sanctuaries hidden throughout the forest. They were built many years ago when the forest was young, in the days of my father and his father."

"Who is your father?" Aragorn asked curiously.

Legolas paused, he was skinning an unfortunate hare that had wandered into the trap he had set the evening before.

"He is called Thranduil," Legolas said slowly.

"Like the elven king?" Aragorn asked eagerly.

Startled by Aragorn's response Legolas was slow to respond. His surprise was clearly written on his face. Aragorn who was no dim wit realised what this meant.

"He is the elven king." said the ranger in wonder.

Legolas nodded and resumed his skinning.

It was the first time that he had allowed Aragorn outside since he had first awakened there. The forest was cold and subdued but no snow would fall that day and what had fallen before had soaked into the ground. Aragorn was muffled in two blankets, a shirt, under tunic, leggings and boots, even though they were just this side of snug. Legolas felt his eyes upon him and glanced up to see the ranger gazing at him thoughtfully. He began to quarter the hare his hands working deftly as they had been trained to do all these years. He set up a small spit, lit a fire and then sat back to let the meat cook. Aragorn had still not spoken.

"Come closer to the fire," Legolas called to him.

Aragorn shuffled over and sat next to him. It was indeed warmer there.

"You would not have told me who you were, would you?" he asked after a while.

"You know who I am."

"You would never have told me that you were the son of the elven king," Aragorn accused.

"Does it matter ?" Legolas asked and he turned to look at him. His eyes were shining and they burned into Aragorn's. Aragorn had the grace to look ashamed.

"No it does not matter," he said softly.

"Besides, I am not the only one with exalted lineage," he said.

Then he smiled and continued, "I am no Aragorn, son of Arathorn heir of Elendil, prince of Gondor and Arnor and the lost lands of Westernesse."

Aragorn's eyes grew wide in astonishment.

" Welcome to Greenwood, of late known as Mirkwood hir nin."

For once Aragorn did not know what to say.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

hir nin...my lord.

Deep sorrow----thank you for your wonderful review.

Tmelange------thanks.

Lindahoyland---he is an expert at Aragorn saving!

OokamiJudge-----Love the tshirt and thanks.

Ainu Laire------I agree, (snicker)

Viggomaniac----- Legolas doesn't mind acting girly, just not in public. And it's gonna get cold out there.

Shanna--------Hola querida, mas tarde que nunca, de versa.

Ciryaquen---- (whisper) Hey can I borrow that card. Wow with such a review my head is now too big to hold up.Thank you.

Inuyashaloverfan------- thank you.

Ali64--------Hi there and thank you.