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It was their first adventure together. Each was, unknown to the other, slightly wary of his companion's skills.

The Man knew of the Elf's skills in battle—he was, after all, a prince, son of a great king, who had long defended his father's kingdom from harm. But though he knew this, he had never seen the Elf fight, and could not help being a little apprehensive. He had seen his father and brothers fight, but had little experience with Elves beyond those of Rivendell, and did not know much about their fighting techniques.

The Elf, likewise, was somewhat curious to see how his friend would react in battle.

He hadn't had much experience fighting with Men—normally they were on opposite sides trying to kill each other, not work together. He kept his face expressionless as his thoughts wandered to the fact that the work of the Men he'd seen had not been impressive. The only time he had been bested in battle by them was when they had outnumbered him 10-1, and he had had no chance.

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Legolas paused suddenly in his narration and coughed slightly, aware of the eyes watching him. I will make no mention of this time, he thought to himelf. Maybe later…much later… though I am loathe to let them learn of it.

Smiling apologetically, he explained that he had had something caught in his throat, and this was the reason for his cough. He then continued on as though nothing was the matter.

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The human had been trained by the Elves of Rivendell, who excelled in swordplay and archery—though their archery skills could not match those of the Mirkwood ElvesFurthermore his brothers were Elladan and Elrohir, the famed twinsons of Elrond, skilled warriors in their own right, and thus he was likely more than adequate in battle, but still, Legolas was eager to see how the Ranger would do.

Looking back, it was probably one of the more stupid things they'd done, specifically seeking a large band of orcs that had been raiding some of the villages in the south, and thinking that the two of them alone could take them on. Naturally, neither thought it was a foolish undertaking. But then again, few people used the term 'LegolasandAragorn) in the same sentence as 'smart' or 'wise' or 'think'. In fact, over the years of their friendship, 'LegolasandAragorn' gradually became almost synonymous with the term 'ElladanandElrohir', otherwise known as 'chaos-causing, prank-playing, always-guilty, innocent-wide-eyed sons of Elrond', so named by a certain Lord Glorfindel of Rivendell.

At any rate, they were traveling through Mirkwood towards one of the southern villages where the orcs were rumored to have surfaced last. They were planning an ambush, to strike the orcs from the shadows and destroy them all at one shot so there would be little danger of injury to themselves.

Little did they know that the orcs would find them first.

The two were walking through the dark shaded woods, conversing casually, when Legolas stopped abruptly and peered cautiously around through suddenly-narrowed eyes. Aragorn looked at him curiously.

"Man cenich?" he asked, looking around likewise and trying to determine what the Elf was looking at.

"Im…Im ind…" Legolas frowned. "I don't know…I thought…nay, I must be mistaken."

"What?" said Aragorn urgently, for Legolas was an Elf and therefore it was very unlikely that he'd imagined or mistaken anything if he thought he saw something.

"It…it looked like…a warg, but it can't have been…" Legolas's eyes narrowed even further as he spotted several shadowy, fleeting figures in the woods surrounding them.. "Estel…we are being tracked! Ai! Get down, Aragorn! A long black arrow soared out from the trees just as Aragorn ducked and embedded itself firmly in a large oak directly where Aragorn had been standing seconds before. "Yr—" Legolas's cry was cut off by a large orc materializing from the woods and throwing itself onto him. He quickly killed it with a slash across the throat from his knives. He had no time to think, for a split second later another one was attacking him. He killed it as well, but as quickly as it had died another had taken its place. They were everywhere.

Within seconds, it had turned into a full ambush.

Aragorn had drawn his sword and was hacking orcs to pieces. Legolas took to the trees. He chose a spot from which he could act as a sniper, loosing a rain of deadly arrows on the orcs below.He carefully aimed his bow before releasing his arrow. Time after time again he nocked an arrow, aimed and fired.

The battle seemed to be going well; the orcs were becoming fewer and fewer, and those left seemed to fight with less vigor. Man and Elf remained uninjured, save for a few bruises and scrapes which would heal quickly enough; both figured the fight would be over soon enough.

But they were wrong.

Legolas had just fired his last arrow at a particularly large orc and killed it, and he was preparing to leap from his position in the tree to assist Aragorn in finishing the orcs off with his white knives, when he heard a venomous hiss from behind him.

He spun around, and to his horror, found six of the largest giant spiders he'd ever seen in his life advancing on him. They were easily twice his height and their legs extended like grossly elongated shadows exaggerated by the light.

"Lhingril!" He shouted a warning to Aragorn, who was still busy fighting orcs. The human looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of the spiders, and nodded.

Legolas drew his knives and made to leap down from the tree, but before he could the smallest spider darted forward and tried to stab one of its fatal pincers into Legolas's gut. The elf reacted with more speed than any human could have, slicing into the hair-covered flesh that was one of the spider's legs. The thing squealed in pain and drew back for a second but did not give up. It came steadily forward to meet him, and as it swung another long, hairy leg at him Legolas was forced to abandon his original plan to jump from the trees and instead leap higher into them to avoid the strong, stinging legs of the spider all aiming to bring him down. To jump would have left him wide open for several seconds; it was too risky.

Two other spiders joined the first and they made a loose circle under the climbing elf. They could climb almost as well as he could.

Grmacing, Legolas looked down at his pursuers and realized it might have been worth the risk to jump. He was nearly to the point where he could climb no further, and then it would not be very easy to fight and maintain his balance at the same time, especially since he was up against three spiders. And surely Aragorn could not be doing well against three spiders of his own, as well as the rest of the orcs.

His heart sank as he realized they were going to have to flee the scene. If there was one thing Legolas hated, it was cowardice. But given the circumstances, he knew there would be no way they would get out of there alive unless they left now.

Aragorn he called, his voice heavy with irritation at himself and with the whole situation. Aragorn, we must flee—we cannot fight them all.

Silence was his only answer, except for the clicking and hising of the spiders in hot pursuit of their quarry. Legolas's heart nearly stopped as he realized—he could no longer hear the clanging of Aragorn's sword, nor the man's shouts of exhaustion. Everything was eerily quiet.

"Aragorn!" he shouted, and darted faster than the eye could see to his own left, then down, hoping to outmaneuver the spiders and confuse them into thinking he was still up high in the boughs.

No such luck. His breath caught in his throat as he reached the lower boughs and saw his human friend lying motionless on the ground, a large gash in his arm and across his face and there was a wicked arrow sticking out from his shoulder. Blood pooled around his body and spattered the trees around him with red. But he was not dead. Legolas sighed quietly with relief. An orc stood over the Ranger, leering at his unconscious form. Legolas crept quietly to another tree directly above the orcs, so he would be able to listen to their plans and watch them. He knew that as long as he kept silent and still they would be unable to detect him.

"Did you kill him, Ugbúz?" he grunted.

"Nah, he ain't dead—knocked out cold but alive as you and me," the first, Ugbúz replied. His face split into a grotesque grin. "These Rangers are always fun to play with, real strong, real fun to break—see to it that he's tied up proper so we can ask him some questions and have some fun with him later. When you're done tyin' him get him onto Ugone, and make sure he gets taken back to camp.."

Ugone? Legolas wondered, even as his nose wrinkled in disgust of what the orcs were planning. Who—or what—was Ugone?

"Aye," the first grunted, and, producing some rope, yanked Aragorn into a half-sitting position and bound his hands firmly behind his back. Then, hoisting him over his shoulder, he took him over to one of the giant spiders, who, Legolas noted, was strangely enough standing quite still, and tied him to the spider's back.

What? Legolas thought with astonishment. Can the spiders be working for these orcs? Can they be…in league with one another? But how is that possible? For the spiders were rogues. They depended on themselves and no one else for survival. If they were working with the orcs that could only mean bad news for the inhabitants of Mirkwood..

So preoccupied was he in these musings that he failed to notice that his three pursuers had caught up with him.

Seconds later, a sharp pincer had stabbed itself into Legolas's thigh. He felt paralyzing numbness spreading rapidly all over his body. His movements seemed slow and sluggish.Even as he turned to fight he knew he would lose. He clumsily held up a hand containing a knife and made a pathetic swipe at the spider. It seemed to laugh at him as it dodged the slow movement easily. He tipsily took a step toward the spider, but his feet felt so heavy…so heavy…he stumbled. The spider took this opportunity to stab him again and he gave the softest of moans at the pain.

His shocked brain screamed at him to get a grip and start defending himself, but his fingers refused, too weak to even hold his knives, much less use them. They slipped through his fingers like butter. His legs would no longer support him. As he realized he was falling he made a valiant effort at leaping to another tree branch, but his useless fingers merely brushed the edge of a branch. They would not even curl around the branch, and certainly did not have enough strength to hold him there or to pull himself up. This was bad.

He fell to the ground, unable to move, and landed with a soft thump close to where Aragorn formerly lay.

Both orcs, Ugbúz and Lux, started at the noise. Then Ugbúz grinned just like he had earlier. "Well, well, well, looks like our Ranger had a friend along with 'im! And a fine Elven friend at that…but 'e can't move, can 'e? Looks like one of Ugone's fellows got him…poor lad…"

Both laughed. "Well," yawned Ugbúz. "I guess we'll just have to take him along with us, then, won't we? Two to play with…well, better put him to sleep, Lux, don't want him causin' no trouble when the first stage wears off."

First stage? Legolas's soggy brain came alive at this statement. What first stage? The spiders were toxic, certainly, but there was no 'first stage', there were no 'stages' at all, there was merely the paralyzing effect and after that wore off there was fatigue but nothing more. He eyed the orc warily as the thing came closer to him, bearing a rag soaked in something that smelled suspiciously good.

Even as the rag was pressed to his nose and mouth, and even as he realized it was some sort of sleeping potion and he ought to fight, a little tiny part of him welcomed the sleep that overtook him, a small part of him waved hello to the overwhelming darkness which consumed him, and a sudden void in his mind whispered that now he was safe…

He could not sense that his hands were being bounds tightly behind his back, he didn't know that he was being thrown over and tied roughly to the hairy back of a gigantic spider, he could not comprehend the evil laughs of the orcs around him, and maybe all this was a good thing, for this way neither he could not fear threats of whip, flame and sword…the situation certainly looked hopeless.

Legolas stopped. "I suppose from that point on it is a relatively boring story," he said, carefully taking note of the seven pairs of eyes on him. Gandalf, who knew every detail of every exploit the pair had ever experienced, whether failed or not, did not appear to be listening closely. Aragorn, Legolas was sure, was only listening to ensure that the Elf got all the details right, and that there were no added bits such as '…lazy human was unconscious for the whole thing' and such. All four hobbits were listening raptly, and Pippin gave a start when Legolas spoke these words, for apparently he had quite forgotten the story had passed and there were no orcs present now. Even Boromir looked interested, as did Gimli, despite his credible desperate attempts to look indifferent.

"But what happens next?" demanded Merry.

"Did you get away?" Pippin asked breathlessly, his eyes wide. Sam and Merry rolled their eyes, and Merry gave him a resounding cuff on the back of the head.

"'Course they did, are you brainless? Standing right here, aren't they?"

Pippin blushed. "What I meant was—I mean—"

"I think Pippin wants to know exactly how you escaped," Frodo said, quickly rescuing the Took, who shot him a grateful look, and couldn't help adding, "And what happened? I mean, when they took you to their camp."

Legolas shrugged with feigned indifference. "I suppose they tortured us. Isn't that how it went, Estel?"

Aragorn restrained himself from rolling his eyes, as he knew the Elf had no more forgotten what had happened than he had forgotten his own name.

He sighed, and humored the Elf with an answer. "Yes, tithen ernil, that's how it went. And I suppose you must tell them about the escape now, too, I think that was probably the most interesting part of the whole thing."

Legolas glared at the Ranger at the use of the hated nickname—Princeling—before 'considering' it. "I guess I could…if they'd like me to…"

"Tell us!" said Pippin anxiously. "Please," he added.

"Yes, I'd really like to hear it, if it's not too much trouble," said Merry hopefully.

Legolas stretched his long legs before continuing. "Well, then…our escape involved a hairpin and a good deal of creativity…" But that came after the torture,he added darkly to himself.

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Okay, okay, you know the routine—if you like it, please review. If not, feel free to leave me constructive criticism, I'll take anything that makes this fic better!

Man cenich—What do you see?

Im…Im ind—I…I don't…

Lhingril—Spiders

Tithen ernil—Princeling