As we said last post: sorry we can only post once a week now, but we are constantly being crunched for time, which isn't fair at all, but such is life. Here is the third installment and we hope you enjoy very much…and review, of course! ;)

Ripples

CHAPTER THREE

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Blood in the Water

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Legolas was jolted awake as his horse jumped through a puddle after being spooked slightly by the fall of a few pebbles along the bank of the tributary of the Forest River, making a tinkling sound as they struck the water that was quietly flowing beneath. This stream ran south, practically cutting the upper portion of Mirkwood in half and flowed down in the Emyn Duir. Aragorn, riding behind the Elf, had a grim and uneasy expression on his face as the mist, wrapping and weaving itself around them like a thick shroud of gray, seemed to seal them apart. The friends took comfort in the fact that they could hear each other breathing. Words however, seemed to be muffled in the heavy fog, something, which left the ranger feeling far from comfortable. Not that this situation sat well with him to begin with, but the thick mists and being in Mirkwood at night were not very consoling.

He was acutely aware of the stream bubbling and hissing beneath them softly, trying to lull both of the weary companions to sleep. Legolas had already nodded off once, though now he looked about as alert as ever. Much of the credit for his friend's weariness he gave to Legolas himself, knowing that the Wood Elf had probably made himself tired with his brooding and then his unwillingness to rest. Aragorn also had a sinking and credible suspicion that Legolas was not as well healed from the incidents in Farlost he as would have liked to be and that the healers hadn't been able to confine him to the wards for more than a week. 'We're going to have a serious talk about this one of these days,' the ranger thought darkly, his eyes not leaving the shadowy form of his friend who was nearly lost in the mist except for his faint glow which wasn't as bright as normal.

'No,' he amended mentally. 'We already have, he just wasn't listening.'

Legolas pulled his horse to a stop and twisted in his saddle to look back at Aragorn. With his hood drawn about his face, concealing it completely, the Elf hardly looked like anything Aragorn would want to meet in the darkest hours of the night. But his voice was still the same. "We are going to be reaching it's mouth, Estel, along the edges of the Mountains. We were near here when I…when everything happened." His voice had trailed off into a mere whisper that was choked off by the heavy mists before everything went silent.

Aragorn shivered, beginning to feel the effects of the heavy, wet fog as it seeped through every tunic he was wearing and condensed on his cloak hood before dripping into his eyes. Answering his friend, the man advised, evenly "well maybe we should start the search now. We re close enough and there may be tracks. I'm going to try and find some dry wood to light a torch," he finished sullenly.

Legolas smiled slightly and shook his head. "I wouldn't do that. Really, just trust me on this." His voice was cheerless and Aragorn sighed. He knew why as well as anyone. The spiders. The monstrous annoying beasts seemed to be attracted to the flames and when the light caught their eyes it was a truly ghastly sight, making them look every part the sadists that they were. Aragorn knew this from hard-learned personal experience, much to his mortification and Legolas' amusement. When Legolas advised not to light a torch, then it was best to follow his instruction.

"On second thought," Aragorn adjusted his opinion. "You are probably right." He narrowed his eyes and then bit his lower lip in thought and mild confusion. "Then how are we supposed to find this attacker or stalker or yours?"

Legolas didn't answer for a moment, listening to the woods and the bubbling of the stream, but when he did it was simple and straightforward. "Would he not find us?"

Aragorn shifted uneasily in the saddle and grimaced at the prince's unadorned but clearly not innocent words. He hated how words, just plain words alone, could make a person flinch. But Legolas was right, they wouldn't have to go looking for this someone or something, it was going to find them…again. "You are probably right about that as well. Unfortunately, that puts us at a disadvantage."

"It does indeed," Legolas agreed gloomily.

Aragorn blinked rapidly as the condensation on his hood spilled into his eyes, blurring his vision for a brief moment. "You have a plan, don't you?" he asked hopefully, inclining his head and looking at Legolas expectantly. At least, as far as he knew it was Legolas, but he looked more like a tall gray figure.

Legolas sighed and explained wistfully, "not yet, but I am working on it." He looked about them at the woods as though the trees were closing in on them. That strange feeling was coming back and everything was quiet save for the sounds of Aragorn's breathing and the lulling seething of the stream, bubbling south. Normally Legolas wouldn't have given much thought to his horse snorting or stamping and generally making a nuisance of himself with his uneasiness. But he himself was beginning to feel…a disturbance in the forest and his heart was beginning to be wreathed in dread once more. A sinking feeling was spreading in his stomach like a spilled poison.

Aragorn swallowed hard as his horse began to back up and snort anxiously. "Oh, that's…comforting." His voice was hardly serious, one might actually think he wasn't being sarcastic but joking completely. Patting his mare's neck, he struggled to calm the alarmed horse, which stopped jerking and began to settle down under his gentle touch.

Legolas arched an eyebrow and looked at Aragorn as if to say: 'well if you can come up with something offhand, let me know!' Outwardly he muttered, "well it isn't like I am enjoying the situation anymore than you are!"

Suddenly the Elf sat completely upright, jerking up as though he had been stabbed in the back, and his eyes went wide as his face tensed. The cold feeling had become stronger, much stronger and becoming more and more unpleasant if that was possible. If one of the Nine had breathed down his neck Legolas imagined it might feel about like this. "It is watching us," Legolas hissed in the Sindarin Tongue. He could feel his stomach clenching and his palms going slick with a cold sweat.

"I feel it too," Aragorn replied back. His hand immediately went to his sword hilt, instinctively preparing for a possible confrontation. His stomach began to feel nauseated and was convulsing as fear spiked through him like an icicle stabbing him in the spine, freezing his insides. As he gripped the hilt it slid around in his grasp, slippery with sweat.

A strong wind began to blow, cold and cutting, shifting the mists away and clearing their view of the world about them. The clouds above shifted, once again reminding them of dispersing spirits, allowing an eerie sliver of silver moonlight to filter through the dense fir trees and their dark boughs that swayed with the air. In the light of the moon the river was revealed, dark and frothing against the banks and the sharp rocks. Legolas stared into the water as though to see through it, holding his breath.

Aragorn watched the water as well; his silver eyes appeared to be glowing in the luminescence of the moon. Looking at the bank, the very edge of it to be exact, the ranger noticed something moving among the weeds, four long and bloody fingers gripping the sandy earth so tightly the knuckles went white. It was a hand, he realized detachedly, and it was struggling to get a grip on the bank. He didn't have to think twice to know that hands -bloodied hands at that -gripping the edge of the bank, were an abnormal occurrence. But that wasn't what really held him captured by its presence. It was the simple question asking to what creature did the hand belong to?

"Legolas," he reached over and smacked the prince's upper arm. Pointing to the bank, Aragorn hissed compellingly in a low voice, "please tell me that is not a hand!"

Smiling sympathetically Legolas readily answered, "it is." His smile faded as he watched the fingers grope for something to hold onto, causing him to swallow harder than customary.

This most definitely had to be one of the creepier things had witnessed in his life, which was very long in human terms. As much as he desperately wanted to, he was unable to rip his eyes away long enough for his body to react and so he watched, entranced, as the hand went on blindly searching for something to grab a hold of. A tiny and nearly insignificant voice inside was telling him to do something, anything, but he was unable to move. Spellbound, Legolas struggled to get himself under control.

"Well at least I know I am not seeing things," Aragorn muttered morbidly as he gave his head a shake, just to make sure.

Legolas nodded in habit but he wasn't really listening, or at least, not for the most part. His sharp Elven ears had picked up the sound of heavy and frightened breathing. Holding his own breath he suspiciously concluded it was not his own, though he did realize his own heart was pounding hot blood in his ears with a thudding sound. Glancing at Aragorn out of the corner of his eye he whispered in hushed tones, "stop breathing."

Aragorn looked at his friend and narrowed his eyes with incredulity. "Excuse me?" Had he heard the Elf right? He knew Legolas was insane but that was a bit odd even for him…

"Hold your breath," Legolas repeated, irritated.

With one last suspicious glare, the ranger grudgingly complied, releasing it nearly a minute later.

Yes, someone was still drawing deep and frightened breaths and it wasn't either of them. 'Do I really want to know what exactly it is?' Legolas asked himself mentally. Dismounting almost inconspicuously, the Elf walked to the edge and stepped just to the side of the bloodied fingers. He was about to peer cautiously over the edge when a hand clamped on his shoulder, causing him to look over and see Aragorn at his back. Feeling safer and consoled with a friend at his back, the light-haired Elf hesitantly poked his head over the side of the riverbank to see what he must.

What he saw looking back at him was more than a shock. He had never expected this, ever. Had not this being died? Or at least, been lost to his assigned exile of one thousand years under pain of death?

Two large blue eyes set back in a frail looking and pale face looked fearfully back up at him, as though he expected Legolas to throttle him. Legolas wondered for a moment if it weren't his reflection so much did the other look like him but more fragile. "Voronwë," Legolas spoke the name at the same time he drew a sharp breath, clearly taken aback by the turn of events. He had forgotten that one thousand years was up; it seemed like yesterday.

Voronwë continued to stare up at the prince with an expression akin to a fawn cornered by a ravenous wolf with blood red eyes. He blinked as the condensation on his hood spilled into his eyes, blurring his vision for a brief moment. "Rána?" he asked in a soft voice, nearly cringing, Legolas noted with a nagging curiosity. With his hood drawn about his own face and the way the shadows fell, Legolas did appear to resemble a dark-haired Elf.

"No, it's Legolas," the Sindar prince informed the clearly distressed and shaken Elf. He started to reach down to give Voronwë a hand up, but then pulled back as old memories resurfaced. Looking at the other Elf's blood stained hand; Legolas felt a wave of suspicion wash over him. It wasn't helped by the fact that his cousin was asking about Rána. What had Rána been doing out along the Emyn Duir with Voronwë?

"Legolas …he tried to …kill me. Be…careful," the silvery blonde-haired Elf ground out between grit teeth, clearly suffering pain from an unseen wound. So the blood on his hand was his own, Legolas concluded with mild confusion. He wished he could call that a good sign but he had a burning premonition that it was anything but. The tight fear in his stomach was still clinging to his frozen insides, but it was slowly beginning to thaw and disband. However that didn't stop his heart from thudding as though it was trying to break out of its prison of ribs and tissue.

"Who?" Legolas asked as patiently as possible. He looked over his shoulder at Aragorn who was frowning in puzzlement and alarm. He would have to fill the ranger in later about Voronwë's dark past.

"Rána." Voronwë's breathing was heavy with anguish. One of his hands, Legolas noticed, was dramatically clenching a wound under his tunic on his upper right chest.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Legolas tightened his hands into tight balls with frustration. Nothing was making any sense and he could tell that there were vital pieces of this extensive puzzle that were missing. Why was it that the most important pieces were the ones that were always lost? Rána would never try to kill Voronwë or any Elf for that matter, at least, not if he was the Rána Legolas knew. Rána was quiet and entirely serious and Legolas had always thought him to be kind. He had a keen interest in weaponry, which Legolas did often attribute to insanity, but he still trusted the dark-haired Elf. However, if this was true, it changed everything.

"That can't be true!" Legolas protested in baffled astonishment. "When was this?" he demanded rather angrily.

Voronwë struggled to speak with his store of strength nearly depleted and still fleeing his body. His paled lips formed words but it took a few moments for them to be audibly voiced. "Hours ago…near midday I would say…my lord." The celerity of his breath sped up and he wheezed in pain as his eyes squeezed shut, a thick and cold sweat glistened on his brow. Normally the Elven constitution was not this inherently weak, but he had suffered already, Legolas could tell. His face was thin and he appeared to be a shadow of what he once was, though the prince was certain some of that could be credited to his banishment.

Seeing Voronwë struggling to breath, to move and to speak, it made Legolas feel sick. No matter what his younger cousin had done in the past he didn't deserve this or anything resembling this. And even if he did, Legolas didn't think he could stand there and watch without making his conscience burn. Biting his lower lip, the prince prepared himself to leap down the small precipice to reach Voronwë, whom he didn't think could afford much more time. Before launching himself gracefully over the edge of the embankment, the prince looked over at Aragorn and tilted his head pointedly in the direction of Voronwë, down at the very edge of the water. It was more than obvious what his intentions were, all the same, Aragorn gave him an inquisitive look. "We can carry on this conversation as I pull him up," Legolas explained in very few words considering every passing second to be to be very precious.

Casting himself over the edge without any hesitation, the prince landed lightly at Voronwë's side just as the younger Elf nearly collapsed. Barely managing to catch the wounded exile and steady him, Legolas wondered in quiet confusion how he was going to support the extra weight and drag them both back up again. Not that he thought Voronwë weighed anything right now; he was now a shadow of what he had once been. To his disgust and dismay, Voronwë's blood was staining his clothes a dark crimson color mixed with a silvery tint. Having seen enough of Elven blood for a day, in fact, for a century, the prince worked to push aside the vision of his hands being stained with Rána's blood.

"This doesn't make sense. If he attacked you why didn't he kill you?" Aragorn asked calmly, garnering a withering glare from Legolas, who was trying to concentrate on discovering an easy way back up and having no real luck. Voronwë started noticeably as he seemed to realize for the first time that Aragorn was a human and not an Elven warrior. To add to his shock, it was probably the first mortal he had ever met who spoke reasonably fluent Sindarin.

Glancing at Legolas for guidance and affirmation that his human was a friend, the injured Elf waited until the prince had provided him with the assurance of a nod. Only after the nod did he reluctantly answer, leaning heavily on Legolas the entire time. "There were…orcs…they attacked us…he couldn't fight all of…them by himself…my lord."

"So he ran," Legolas finished slowly, as things he had not thought much of earlier began to fall into place. "And the orcs gave chase."

"They did indeed, my lord," Voronwë managed around his pain that Legolas now saw came from what looked like a knife wound to his chest. It was near the heart but had not quite touched it. Something had caused Rána to miss his mark…something had interfered. It must have been the orcs, Legolas decided quickly. Though, it could have been because Rána had second thoughts about murdering the silvery blonde Elf. Voronwë was not strong enough to go against Rána, though he had been at one time, so the determent of the blade could not have come from Voronwë's strength.

So all the feelings of dread he had felt had been because of Rána? But that couldn't be right. Rána wasn't heartless enough to try and kill Voronwë, no matter what he had done in the past to deserve it. Grimacing as he began to understand all that had taken place, Legolas spoke softly, not wanting to believe any of this. "And he led the orcs into me."

Aragorn watched Legolas putting things together as he too began to understand all that had transpired. But still there were some pieces of the puzzle missing, pieces that he felt, were more than just a little significant. Things were just not adding up and he feared that he and Legolas might have gotten themselves into deeper trouble than they had ever thought possible out of these circumstances. "But I don't think he lead the orcs to you wittingly."

Realizing Legolas was going to need some assistance in dragging Voronwë up into the bank, Aragorn stretched a hand down towards his friend and the wounded Elf. He noticed absentmindedly how Voronwë' withdrew when he saw Aragorn's hand extend downward. Aragorn was not used to Elves fearing him or being uneasy around him because of his race and so he was a bit taken back by the reaction even though he knew he shouldn't be. It had been years since something like this had happened if he disregarded Rothinzil's reaction after the frightened townspeople of Farlost had beaten him half to death. Pushing memories of that escapade from his mind, Aragorn smiled down sympathetically to try and reassure Legolas' cousin that he was not out for his blood.

Legolas looked up at Aragorn and then began to lift the injured exile up to the ranger's waiting hands. Sensing that the ranger was a friend of Legolas' and not out to kill him like most men he had the misfortune of meeting, Voronwë' relaxed visibly and suffered himself to be dragged up onto the banks by the ranger, who did his best not to let him get jarred against the rocky sides.

Easing the bleeding Elf onto the bank as gently as he was able, Aragorn slid free of his nearly soaked cloak, placing it gingerly over Voronwë' whom he noticed was shivering. His cloak was covered with evidence of living out in the elements for years and years, something Aragorn could sort of identify with. But it was also well worn and definitely had outlived its purpose. Aragorn only wished his cloak was drier and could be more of a comfort.

Voronwë's expression was one of suspicious gratitude and Aragorn couldn't blame him. It had probably been too long since he had last trusted a soul or been treated half as kindly as they were treating him now. He found it hard sometimes to believe that all the Elven laws were just.

Legolas looked at Aragorn in alarm as soon as he was safely up on the bank before he responded to Aragorn's earlier assertion. "He couldn't have. No one knew where I was; I left early in the morning before anyone was up." He looked down kindheartedly and a bit disbelievingly at Voronwë sitting by his side with Aragorn's cloak wrapped about his slight frame. He knew his cousin was in dire need of medical attention and even old memories were not able to drown out his sympathy.

"Could you have been followed?" Aragorn asked, tilting his head and giving Legolas a curious expression.

"I don't think so." Here Legolas had to smile despite things being as they were. However his smile was more shameful than it was joyous. "I left out of my bedroom window…Again." Naturally, this was no surprise.

"I wonder why I didn't think of that!" Aragorn retorted sarcastically, and rolling his eyes over dramatically. "Everybody always uses their bedroom windows for doors!" Snorting in perfect belief that his friend would do something of that nature, Aragorn cast the prince one last disapproving glance. Legolas was a Sindar Elf, he reminded himself calmly. That should explain everything.

Feeling the glance to be uncalled for, considering everything they both had done in desperate attempts to evade healers and various lunatics out for their blood, Legolas graced Aragorn with a scathing glower of his own. But then both of the friends quickly turned their attention back to the confusing problem at hand.

"So if he didn't know you were here, then what was he doing out here by himself in the first place? What reason would he have for killing Voronwë?" the ranger questioned calculatingly in a low whisper. Old suspicions he had felt earlier, when Rána had first been shot, rose again to the front of his mind with a demanding presence. He had been right, something was very wrong, and that could quite possibly be the understatement of the century, he reasoned.

A twig cracked and Aragorn looked to see what Legolas had already seen and was staring at with bright eyes and a tightly set jaw. A group of five Elves stood above them, watching the exchange of information with interest coupled beside mild confusion. One of them, Aragorn noticed was the green-eyed guard that had not withered under Legolas' authority at the gate. He still seemed incredibly cold and nearly disgusted by what he saw and when his eyes settled on Aragorn a flare seemed to go up in them, lighting an angry inner fire.

"What are you doing here?" Legolas asked warily, anger edging his voice, making it sharp. "I thought my orders were unambiguous." It was a statement, not a question and he allowed his blue eyes to bore back into everyone single one of the warriors' eyes of the contingent that had come to escort him back to the palace.

"My lord, we felt you were in immediate danger. Your father would have us skinned alive if he knew we let you leave at this hour of the night with no guard," answered the green-eyed Elf firmly, his gaze was unwavering, Aragorn perceived with an icy prick of concern. But he also realized it was nearly sarcastic and it was definitely colder than a frozen pond in January. And, he noticed that those angered green eyes were watching Voronwë with curious interest, as though he was secretly trying to figure something out.

"Once again, your concern is touching, Arandur, and your service to me and my family admirable. Yet you deliberately disobeyed a direct order." Legolas' voice had gone frighteningly calm and his blue eyes were lit with a pale flame that was smoldering. Arandur didn't seem to notice, or at least if he did, he didn't care. Legolas moved protectively closer to his wounded cousin, who looked more than a little alarmed as he watched the other Elves. The prince carefully placed a supporting hand on Voronwë's shoulder, giving it a soft but comforting squeeze.

"Prince Legolas, your father already is furious with you and very disappointed," Arandur answered in a semi-respectful tone that was nearly canceled out by a sense of scoffing. Legolas didn't let his glare slip in the slightest as the warrior from his uncle's contingent continued to try and berate him into returning to the palace. But inside he was wondering if Arandur was right, if he shouldn't provoke his father to further anger by deliberately putting himself into danger. "My lord, you must return before he discovers you are gone," reasoned Arandur slyly. "You wouldn't want to get Estel in trouble, would you, my prince?"

Legolas ground his teeth as hot anger flashed through him. Around his set jaw, the fair-haired Elf bit out, "are you threatening me? Or merely giving me strong advise?" His tone was acidic and if an intense glare could kill, one could safely assume that Arandur was dead.

"Interpret it as you wish, my lord," Arandur responded coolly. His green eyes flickered as he blinked and shook his head. "Please allow us to escort you back."

Aragorn looked over dubiously at Legolas, wondering if the prince was actually going to believe these Elves, who were, in his opinion, pathetic liars. He smiled inwardly as he fully took in the mistrustful and disbelieving look on Legolas' scowling face, plainly stating he was not this easily fooled.

They knew something he didn't and he didn't plan to become a victim. The past few years of having Estel as a friend had taught Legolas many things, one being that he should never trust people who appeared to be trying to pressure him into doing something or were overly friendly. And because of the simple fact that he wasn't entirely sure who had his trust right now, besides Aragorn, Legolas was in no frame of mind to blindly follow his warriors, whatever their intentions be. And all suspicions aside, he was their prince and should be giving orders not receiving them. "We will return," he answered flatly. "But we will ride in the back, taking Voronwë with us."

"Are you sure that is an…intelligent choice, my prince?" Arandur asked emotionlessly. "After all," he pointed out with a small smile. "You are weaponless. Save for your little Edan friend with his sword. These forests are dangerous places and you are the prince after all."

Legolas stiffened noticeably at Aragorn's side as he realized this was the second incredibly stupid and rash choice that he had made this day. His weapons were still hanging on the brass hook by the door in his room! He had left in such a hurry and so emotionally distraught that he had totally forgotten to go back in and get his weapons. Or should his reluctance to return be credited to the fact that he had alienated himself with a self-imposed exile and was ashamed to walk before his own people?

Shifting his weight uneasily, at length he answered back, "you will ride before us, that way we shall have some alarm if there is danger." Looking down, he stared at Voronwë, who was looking entirely too calm and had seemed to go a shade paler, if that were possible. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, my lord," Arandur said, this time his voice was respectful. Maybe he had begun to realize he was out of line. But, then to Legolas' surprise, he wrinkled his brow and a bewildered expression crossed his face. "Voronwë is with you?" He looked over the fair-haired Elf and ranger's shoulders, searching for the silvery blonde Elf, who was slowly crumpling in pain. His voice was a bit frosted over as he spoke, "I would have never thought he would return."

Legolas glanced down at his cousin with grave concern as Voronwë shivered in cold or fear; Legolas was unable to tell and something inside told him it was probably both. He then shot Arandur and the other uneasy Elves, whom now he realized that he didn't recognize either, an expectant and dubious look. "And why is that?" His voice was completely bland by design.

Arandur narrowed his eyes and stared at Legolas for a brief moment, as though he was trying to see beyond his prince's emotionless face and questions. At last he answered with a shrug, "well I wouldn't expect anyone to survive one thousand years of exile." He suddenly sneered. "But I guess it takes a lot to kill a cold hearted murderer."

Legolas stiffened as he heard his cousin croak out in a choked whisper, "I didn't do it, and you know it." Voronwë suddenly seemed stronger and his eyes burned for a faint moment until pain forced them to waver. Without warning, the returned Elf struggled to his feet and then clutched at Legolas' cloak for support as he leaned on his older cousin.

Arandur answered back before Legolas could silence him and his voice was cold but scoffing. "Then who did, Voronwë?" Legolas wasn't entirely sure, but he could have sworn he saw a faint smile play across Arandur's face, a knowing smile, a taunting smile. It was smile that only made Legolas more determined to never turn his back on the warrior.

Aragorn went rigid and looked at Legolas questioningly, plainly clueless about the events that had happened far before he was even born. But the answer came in a facial expression that clearly meant that he would be filled in later. Now was not the time, now was too dangerous. A cold feeling returned to Aragorn's stomach and began to spread to his other organs and muscles, causing them to ice up once more and go tight. His heart's rate began to speed up and he could practically feel his hot blood that seemed to suddenly run cold pump through his veins, throbbing in his ears.

Legolas cousin's next words were barely audible and were more of a cowering hiss. "You know." A wave of pain must have broken over Voronwë because he shivered violently and practically fell into Legolas' arms. The prince nearly dropped him, biting back old fears that were returning as he gathered up the frail Elf.

Arandur just rolled his eyes and glanced at Legolas. "I think being out in the wilds by himself for so long has warped his mind." Voronwë's scowl darkened and he became indignant. They could say whatever else they wanted but he was no murderer and he was not crazy.

"I am not insane!" the tired voice objected.

Legolas put an arm around his younger cousin, to steady him and keep him on his feet, which were less than reliable. Out of the corner of his mouth he advised, "Keep your peace Voronwë." Luckily his whisper was lost on Arandur and his followers.

"Voronwë should come with us," Arandur proposed, keeping his green orbs boring into Legolas' cerulean ones. "You and your human friend should have much to talk about." The way he had spat the word 'human' was not lost on either Legolas or Aragorn and Voronwë stiffened at his elder cousin's side.

"Voronwë needs to see a healer, quickly," added one of the other Elves. "I have a fast horse." He stepped noticeably forward, pulling his horse behind him and looked at Legolas' cousin carefully.

"Not that we are saying yours is not fast, your majesty," Arandur compensated, casting his companion an irritated look. It wasn't his fault his friends were all a parade of idiots, he reminded himself calmly. "But you will be preoccupied and we may be able to get there a little faster. You don't need the burden."

Legolas didn't appreciate all this rationalizing and was about ready to grab Arandur by his neck and just ask him what the game was. But he and Estel were out numbered and this cordial game seemed to still be in play and was there only option. Gritting his teeth, Legolas glared. He was about to speak when Voronwë stepped forward, swaying slightly and his fingers still clenched over his wound.

"You d-don't need another burden, Legolas," he conceded, looking warily at Arandur, fear cowering behind his eyes. "I can go with them. Do what you have to do." He knew he was as good as dead, and he didn't want to die, but he loved Legolas like a brother and he had a feeling that if he didn't go with Arandur then there could be serious trouble. And he sensed things were off balance already.

Legolas wanted to protest, but was afraid of what it would bring. So far things were staying subdued and there was a chance of everyone coming out of this alive. Aragorn could tell Legolas was still ill at ease, he felt that way himself, but he knew there was precious little they could do in this situation. All the same, the helpless and frightened expression on Voronwë's face tugged at his heart.

TBC….Well here was the wee tip of the start of the entire mayhem deal. Yes, next chapter will actually have some angst and more questions will be answered about Voronwë's past and the entire backdrop of this fic. Please review! This was and still is a difficult story to write and feedback is appreciated! For all those who did review, thank you very much! It is as Orli puts it in Pirates of the Caribbean…"A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

Review responses will be done through e-mail, so if you want a response, give your address. If you don't you still, naturally, have our eternal thanks. But for chapter two review responses, please check our bio for now, they will be at the bottom and removed after a week. Chapter three ones should be mailed.