Yay! Here is chapter twelve! We will try to get review responses out to you before Tuesday. If you dont' get one, it wasn't intentional, trust us.

At any rate, please keep those reviews coming and enjoy the story! Thank you! :)

Ripples

CHAPTER TWELVE

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You'll Never Know Tomorrow

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Legolas lay in the dirt, panting as he recovered from his abuse, taking advantage of the reprieve his lack of consciousness had provided. Wincing as the pain and despair rushed back, he looked around, trying to discover Lostiâ's whereabouts. His senses were not so slurred anymore as the drug wore off and he realized he must have been unconscious for longer than an hour.

Forcing him to sit up onto his knees, Legolas doubled over onto himself as any movement at all made his stomach churn violently, brining bile up his throat. Moaning, he convinced his body to sit up a bit more so he could look around. His eyelids drooped and the rocks sort of changed places with each other before he was able to focus his vision.

Lostiâ must have been behind him because he stepped around and crouched before his nephew, smiling gleefully. Grabbing Legolas' chin, he forced the prince to meet his gaze. "Well now, you finally decided to wake up!" he said snidely. "Feeling any better?" he continued to mock, taking note of the green color that tainted Legolas' pale skin.

Legolas didn't want to waste his energy answering verbally so he allowed a hot flame to kindle in his eyes and then winced as his abdomen convulsed. Finding the vigor to jerk his chin free of his uncle's grip he gaped the abruptly movement ignited a burning feeling throughout his body. Who would have thought little more than two tablespoons of this clear liquid could be so potent?

Lostiâ sat back on his heels, watching Legolas attentively as the younger Elf scooted away and placed a hand on the rock wall for support. Breathing hard and trying to ignore his uncle's scrutinizing eyes that were watching everything he did, Legolas asked between gasps, "why do you…want my father…h-here?"

He had a feeling he knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from his uncle's mouth. He turned his eyes on the elder Elf without moving his head, setting his jaw so he wouldn't make any sound as a shooting pain seemed to lay his stomach open.

"Well because I can't kill you until he is here to witness it," Lostiâ replied, a little surprised Legolas hadn't already known. Smiling he laughed heartily, "and you're going to die hard, nephew, you're going to die hard."

Legolas usually didn't make a habit of begging anything from anyone, especially beings like Lostiâ but he couldn't help it.

"Leave my father out of this …please." He knew his father's heart would be torn to pieces and he didn't want to see that happen before he drew his last breath and left the circles of the world. He would rather his uncle torment him to death than force his father to watch whatever he had planned. And he didn't want his father to see what he looked like now, not this weak and vulnerable. He didn't want anyone to see him this way, brought down by a single poison and emotions laid bare by unbearable pain.

Lostiâ shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't. See, that would only make my revenge half complete."

Legolas continued with his pleading, trying to get his uncle to see reason. "Lostiâ, you don't have to be this way. Let go of your hate before it consumes you."

He knew that his uncle's hate had already consumed him but he couldn't believe that Lostiâ was unable to come back. Suddenly Legolas only found pity in his heart and his anger gave way to pitying sorrow. Anyone who was this way by choice was completely miserable and he in dire need of help.

Lostiâ laughed louder and snorted incredulously. "Its too late now, Legolas. There is no going back. I will take your life and have my sweet revenge." A smile came to his face as Legolas cringed and wiped a cold sweat from his forehead while he endured the savage venom sabotaging his system.

"No," gasped Legolas desperately, determined to try and get his uncle to understand. "Revenge is never sweet…" his voice squeezed off as he had to catch his breath and pause. "How will killing me fix anything?" he asked, connecting eyes with his uncle's dark ones that were filled with nothing but malice. For a moment he thought he saw a flicker of doubt and pressed further. "How will that bring my mother or your wife back? It will only spill more blood."

Lostia's face blackened with anger and he snarled. "Blood should be rendered for blood! If you had never been born, a little dear surprise, then they orcs would have never even had the to opportunity to overwhelm and kill anyone!" He spat at Legolas and standing up, kicked him in the ribs, please when he heard a small cry and the captive recoiled a few feet.

Legolas went quiet, old memories of this day so many years ago causing doubt to gnaw at his mind. He had been the one to lead the orcs right into his under numbered rescuers and cause so much pain and sorrow, terror and loss. Forcing these thoughts to the back of his mind he whispered nearly under his breath, "but you will only bring more pain to those who don't deserve it! You will destroy yourself in the end!"

Having heard enough from his nephew, Lostiâ lunged forward, gripping Legolas by the throat and pulling Legolas up, supporting the entire Elf's weight with his hand constricted around his throat. He watched as fear welled up in the younger Elf's eyes coupled with a bitter sorrow before that was all erased by an all-consuming calm. "I think I can look after myself and I will sleep better when you are dead!" he retorted with a blinding fury.

Legolas' fingers clawed at the hand cutting the air from his lungs. "Please," he croaked in a raspy voice. "Don't...kill yourself this way…" Spots danced before his eyes as he felt consciousness fading and blackness crept into the corners of his eyes. He had tired being reasonable and he had tried being calm so now it was time to follow through.

"My mother would have…never done this to me…" He didn't like using dragging his mother into this but he knew it was true and he could never believe otherwise.

"Don't talk to me about my sister!" Lostiâ growled, pinning Legolas against the wall and sneering in his face. "You hardly knew her! Always out with your bow when you were old enough to shoot straight!"

His grip tightened as the urge to skip the 'sweet' part of the revenge and strangle the prince right now struggled for mastery. Fingers twitching as they continued with their death hold while reason and anger wrestled in his mind, Lostiâ watched as Legolas stopped clawing at his hands and began to relax.

The younger Elf mouthed 'please' one more time before he seemed to slip away and pass out. Going limp in Lostiâ's grip, his head lolled to the side and his uncle relented of his suffocating hold.

Immediately Legolas' chest rose and fell as his body breathed of its own accord even as it slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground.

Eyeing his nephew, hardly believing that as he …prepared some things the younger Elf would just wait in this cave when he awoke, the silver-haired Elf pulled out some rope and shifting Legolas so he was on his back, he bound his hands tightly in front of him and then wrapped a cord around his ankles so he was sure that the circulation was cut off.

Smirking, he shook his head. Legolas just didn't understand when to keep his mouth shut.

If he was to kill Legolas properly he had to have everything set up. After all, it would be rude to put everything together while his…guests were arriving. He must have this done first and then the fun would begin. Smiling wistfully as his ran his brilliant plans through his mind once more; Lostiâ put his cloak back on and left the cave like a shadow moving through the trees.

:0Ж0:

Aragorn nearly dropped Voronwë as they came to the edge of the clearing where precious blood had been spilled so long ago. Voronwë just looked at the ground sadly, hearing the trees whispering of the orcs' butchery and the blood they had been forced to drink and absorb. Looking at Aragorn he stared at him with sorrowful, deep eyes. "I brought you here."

Aragorn knew it wasn't Voronwë's fault but the injured Elf bore the brunt of his frustration. "But he isn't here!" It was like he couldn't breathe as he realized he was wrong, Legolas wasn't here.

"Human," Voronwë tried to calm the ranger whose grip on him had intensified. "You tried."

Turning to the Elf with burning eyes that were sparkling with unspilled tears, Aragorn whispered savagely. "That wasn't good enough!" Seething, Aragorn wondered how he could have gotten this wrong! Where else would they take his friend? "He has to be here!" the man nearly screamed.

Voronwë studied him and realizing the human's rage, pulled away abruptly, trying to avoid the shouting and cringed as Aragorn turned on him. He was almost certain that the man wouldn't harm him but Aragorn didn't appear to be himself and it frightened the Elf. "Well obviously he isn't!"

Aragorn didn't appreciate Voronwë's answer and cast a hard glare at the Elf was he paced. "Where else would they go?" he asked angrily, knowing that time might have run out, he could have already failed.

Voronwë stammered as Aragorn stepped over to him, closing the space between them. "I know of no other place," he plead for Aragorn to see reason and calm down. The intense look of fury and frustration was intimidating and he stumbled back a pace before Aragorn grabbed his tunic, twisting his hand in the fabric and dragging the Elf close.

"There has to be!" Aragorn hissed as tears began to spill over the rims of his eyes. "Think, Voronwë! Think!" he screamed at the Elf, who recoiled as he felt his wound incite to an all out agony.

"Please," he placed his hands over Aragorn's, trying to ease his pain and begging for the human's madness to pass. "Please let go. I don't know anymore." His eyes looked hurt and his face had gone a shade paler.

Aragorn realized what his doing and remorse flooded his face as he released Voronwë's tunic, catching the Elf as they both sank slowly to the ground. Running his fingers through his hair and sighing after drawing a deep guttural breath, Aragorn apologized softly. "I am sorry Voronwë. I should have never done that to you. It's just that I thought we might have a chance and I might save him. I might get my friend back." A silent sob made his shoulders shake and he buried his face in his hands as he shook his head.

The Elf inclined his head to the side and consoled softly in one fact, "We haven't found his body."

Aragorn looked at the Elf from between his fingers and then lowered his hands slowly as the fair being's words sank in. It was true, they hadn't found the body and wouldn't Lostiâ be gloating over it if he had slain his nephew? Legolas was resourceful, he would find a way to survive, Aragorn hoped.

"I will not believe he is dead," Aragorn murmured, stumbling up and reaching down to offer Voronwë a hand up, which once again the Elf waved away and struggled up on his own, swaying as he stood.

Aragorn supported Voronwë as they both staggered from the clearing and into the brush.

Aragorn was eager to keep going, determined to find where they were hiding his friend but Voronwë suddenly refused to move. He muscles went tense and he cocked his head to the side, intently listening. He ignored the ranger as Aragorn insisted on knowing what he was listening for.

Just when Aragorn thought he was about to grab him by the neck and choke him in aggravation, wounded or not, the Elf spoke softly, immediately dropping to the ground and pulling Aragorn after him. "There are Elven footsteps though maybe your ears can't hear them." He answered urgently, locking eyes with the human as his breathing accelerated in anticipation of the trouble that was coming. Voronwë's blue eyes were wide as he stared over across the clearing where he knew the sound to be coming from.

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably as moisture from the saturated ground soaked into his already rain-dampened clothes. "Are you sure?" he hissed, studying Voronwë's paling face. He still couldn't hear a thing but he knew better than to underestimate the hearing of the Elves and he was sure all these years of living alone had given Voronwë superb reflexes.

Voronwë didn't answer for a moment, too intent on watching the opposite site of the clearing. Yes, the mysterious Elf would appear from over there…. "Yes, I am entirely certain." His reply was all but under his breath and he tensed even more as the sound became louder. Looking at Aragorn with a knowing smile he whispered, "he approaches."

Following the Elf's focused eyes, Aragorn found himself holding his breath as a cloaked figure stepped nimbly from the brush, his face concealed with a large hood. But, as Aragorn looked closer he saw strands of silver hair sticking out around the hood near the bottom the Elf's neck. It was Lostiâ.

The hair rose on the back of Aragorn's neck as he stared at the Elf, who was busying himself stacking wood for a large fire. Voronwë was looking on sadly and Aragorn could tell that he was feeling torn apart.

"How badly do you want to find Legolas?" he asked in a low voice, looking at the ranger with sorrow drooped eyes.

Aragorn was speechless at first and then he provided an answer. "I would do anything to get him back," the man's voice was equally low so that Lostiâ wouldn't pick up their conversation. All the same he watched the silver-haired Elf from the corner of his eye.

Voronwë nodded and murmured, "That's what I thought." He smiled warmly and added, "I normally don't like human's overly much. But I think my cousin should count his lucky stars for having you as a friend."

Aragorn returned the smile and his appreciation of Voronwë's trust went without words. But he couldn't help but wonder why Voronwë was saying these things. He was acting like he was trying to say good-bye but didn't know the right words. Gulping, Aragorn stared at the Elf, who was frowning as he watched his father pounding a single stake into the ground.

"What are you doing?" he whispered apprehensively, afraid Voronwë was going to get himself killed.

"You are a tracker, a ranger, if I give you the opportunity I know you can trace back my father's steps," Voronwë tried to explain, preparing himself to drone out all arguments against what he was about to do. He was out of options and this was his father whom they were dealing with.

Aragorn continued to gape at the Elf but then he saw a glimmer come into the blue eyes that was near identical to the one Legolas had when his mind was made up. His brows were knitted in the same determined way and he was gnawing on his bottom lip just like Legolas did when he knew what he was going to do and was trying to bring up the courage to do it. Sighing in defeat, Aragorn knew it would be no use arguing. Nodding his reluctant consent, the man muttered, "take care."

Voronwë smiled and whispered without looking back, "you too, human." He had never learned or didn't remember Aragorn's name.

Swallowing, Voronwë stumbled up, staggering into the clearing and managing to stay on his feet just long enough to reach his father before collapsing to the ground in weakness. "Ada…" he breathed out in a gasp, reaching out a hand and grabbing Lostiâ's boot.

The elder Elf just gaped, unsure what to do. He had thought his son was dead. Pausing everything he was doing he just blinked twice in shock. "Voronwë?" his voice was strangely soft, touched with bubbling happiness and pleasant surprise.

"I'm…h-home, father," the younger Elf replied gingerly, as he cast a weak smile up at the elder Elf, who had removed his hood and was on bended knee, his hands bracketing the pale face of his child.

"How, Voronwë?" His eyes suddenly fell on the wound that was still bleeding on his son's chest. Face darkening he growled as his happiness melted away and was replaced by a cold anger. "Who did this to you?"

Voronwë shivered, swallowing before he spoke. "Rána, Ada. Rána tried to kill me." His eyes closed as he felt Lostiâ's hands quickly moving to unbutton his tunic.

Lostiâ's face was impassive as he looked at the wound, a stab wound that looked ugly. Gently brushing his fingers over the bloodied flesh, he grimaced as Voronwë hissed and grit his teeth, muscles going tense. "Blessed Eru I will kill him for this!" he exclaimed. Closing his eyes for a moment, an indescribable fury filled him and radiated from his lithe form, causing the air around them to tingle. "Rána I am going to kill you!" he shouted wrathfully.

And unbeknownst to Lostiâ, Voronwë smiled as his father began to work on his wound. He had bought the human time and he could only pray that the ranger would get Legolas free before they returned.

Aragorn cautiously circled around the two, keeping to the shadowy portions of the brush where he could barely see his hands in front of his face thanks to the permanent twilight of Mirkwood. He still felt horribly about leaving Voronwë behind in the hands of the mad Elf, Lostiâ being his father or not. However, at the moment it was too late to turn back and so he pushed aside his misgivings and concentrated on the ground, reading even the bent blades of grass.

:0Ж0:

It was nearly eleven and Elrond stood out beside the gate, waiting patiently on Thranduil as he thought things through. Of course he hadn't wanted to wait until the light crept into the forest as the sun climbed but he hadn't much other choice. If they went when it was dark they could miss something and be thrown off track, quite probably leading to disaster.

He and Thranduil had come to the conclusion that they must go and find their sons themselves. They knew that they couldn't bear waiting until a trustworthy contingent of Elves returned with news and it wasn't likely they would find that trustworthy contingent in time anyway. So going out on their own was their only choice.

Quietly, he stared out into the woods and to the road beyond, wondering absentmindedly what was holding Thranduil up and trying to tell himself that he hated it when people second-guessed him.

Suddenly he inclined his head to the side and his eyes narrowed searchingly. He could swear by his father's star that heard horse hooves in the distance –and coming closer. But then the noise seemed to fade away and he couldn't be so sure. Dismissing it as a nervous reaction much in part because of his anxiety over his son, he shook his head.

Glancing back in slight annoyance towards the palace, he suddenly whipped his head around as he thought he picked up the faint sound of horse hooves pounding the ground once more. But he thought he heard more of them this time.

Taking an indecisive step forward, Elrond inclined his head and frowned. Yes, there were definitely horses coming, and coming quickly. He estimated they would be coming in oh, around five minutes. Silently, he prayed that Thranduil would make an appearance before then because he didn't know if he would be able to deal with the situation himself. These were not his people after all and he felt a little out of place when they called him 'my lord'.

To ease his tensions he began idly to wonder if Rivendell was still standing and if leaving it in the hands of Glorfindel, his sons and Erestor was the smartest decision he had ever made. He sincerely hoped that Erestor's therapy was going a little better than it had been. After all, as far as he could recall the counselor had been refusing to leave his room and eating was becoming a rarity as well. He had thought that Glorfindel would either irritate Erestor into becoming his old poised and controlling self or cheer him up and make things a little easier on him.

But if that counselor didn't relearn to walk again then Elrond didn't know what he was going to do to him! He wouldn't be useful anymore as a diplomat and Elrond was in short supply of those as it was.

Suddenly he was forced to listen to the galloping of the horses as he heard them coming up the final path to the palace gate. He was beginning to become uncomfortable but was relieved when Thranduil came walking down the path after dismissing two servants with a wave of his hand to fetch a pair of horses.

Seeing the horses and riders now coming up, kicking up mud as they came, Elrond turned around and glanced back to see Thranduil's eyes narrowed in confusion. He had sent no contingent out and his heart seemed to swell and rise in his throat as he couldn't help but think that Legolas was killed already and they were bringing his body.

The sentries looked bewildered and stepped back to surround their lord and his esteemed guest, calling for the hidden ones among the trees as well. Altogether six Elves came and took their place next to the two Elf-lords, defensively drawing their weapons. But their faces were drawn and confused as they tried to understand what exactly was going on. If Thranduil knew his people the way he thought he did they were half afraid and half furious.

The riders all rode up and pulled their horses to a skidding stop, pulling back on the leather headstalls and causing mud to splash around them. "Lord Thranduil?" Rána inquired and waited for Thranduil to push past his warriors, whom when they realized he was trying to get through, stepped nimbly aside, giving slight bows, much to the amusement of the mounted Elves.

"Rána, what are doing?" asked the Elvenking, keeping his temper in check as the urge to strangle this pathetic liar struggled for mastery. An intense scowl darkened his face and continued to get darker at the news he heard.

"My lord, your son is alive, however he is in rather…unpleasant circumstances as we speak." The dark-haired warrior watched with a calculating gaze as Thranduil's face attempted not to crumple and nearly failed. "Yes," he continued casually. "We found out that he has a lovely voice too, though he was…reluctant to let us hear it."

"You lie," the Elvenking hissed. "Where is he!"

Rána rolled his eyes in exasperation and said, "please try to be a bit more cooperative, my lord. It would make things so much easier."

Arandur spoke up, riding up closer to the king. "Your presence is requested. Whether or not you come will dictate if Legolas will live or not." A cold and knowing smile spread across his face as he watched Thranduil's lips press into a thin line and struggling to withhold his emotions. "And Lostiâ, as you well know, is not very…patient and kindness was never one of his strong suites."

Elrond stepped forward, standing calmly by Thranduil who was practically bristling with wrath. "Rána, this is treason!" he warned, trying to give the dark-haired warrior a second chance. He had trusted him for so long and he wasn't able to accept that the other Elf was evil at heart.

"And there is no going back," Rána replied, obviously having read Thranduil's purpose. He felt comfortable with Arandur and his Elves to back him and didn't fear the sentries that were watching with white faces. It was encouraging to see the dismay on their faces, though it wasn't their pain that he got his satisfaction from.

At this moment Elrond's deep and calm voice intervened. "Rána, you can save lives! If only you decide to aid us!"

"Anything you have done will be pardoned!" Thranduil added, earning some disapproving looks from his warriors who kept their peace but scowled among themselves. It was hard for Thranduil to say this but if Rána really did repent then he would accept the dark-haired warrior back as being one of his confidents.

For a moment Rána seemed half-prepared to stay, touched by the speech or by his own guilt it was anyone's guess. However, glancing around and seeing Arandur and four other Elves, he knew he would be dead if he went turned against them now. The longing expression that had come into his eyes faded as he chose life over honor and scoffed, "why should I?"

Elrond sighed and answered slowly, "Because you could do the world so much more good! If you have that opportunity it is your responsibility to take it!" He knew he was arguing with someone about ten times as stubborn as any mule and about as frightened as a rabbit cornered by a fox but at least he could say he had tried.

Once more the longing look came back into Rána's eyes but he quickly masked it and snorted, giving his attention to Thranduil. "Are you coming your majesty?"

Thranduil looked at Elrond questioningly before he asked the Lord of Rivendell. "Do you wish to come?"

'No,' Elrond thought. 'I don't wish to, but I suppose I must.' However since this was not the time and place for splitting hairs he answered openly, "yes."

"Well if you are both coming then no guards will be necessary, we will be your protection," Arandur explained tartly. "Cause any trouble and it will be dear Legolas who pays. Understood?"

Just as Thranduil and Elrond were both about to accept the terms, however grudgingly, the servants came around the bend with two horses in tow. Arandur notched an arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight and had it leveled for them.

Both of the servants stopped, raising their hands in surrender as their faces rapidly paled and their eyes went wide with fear. Dropping the reins, they took a few steps back and Arandur commanded, "lead the horses to the Lords Elrond and Thranduil and then turn around and walk ten steps."

The sentries immediately tensed, fearing that their brethren were about to be killed and angered that they were not permitted to shoot these treacherous murderers.

Thranduil exchanged glances with Elrond before he stomped over to the green-eyed elf's horse, gripping the creature's headstall desperately. "You can't do this! Leave them out of this!" These were his people and he wasn't going to let them get murdered and shoved around at will by a pack of traitors. Elrond received both of the horses since Thranduil appeared to be busy pleading for the servants' lives.

Arandur's abrupt chuckle turned into uproarious laughter and he shook his head. "Me? Shoot them? No, no…I am not a needless murderer. They can leave; I just had to make sure that they wouldn't try anything. Now, my lords mount your horses. We need to be going!"

:0Ж0:

Aragorn couldn't believe it. He had thought these Elves were insane but this was incredible and totally unexpected even of them. They had chosen a cave of all places.

Not wanting to wait any longer, as he knew Legolas was inside, probably in pain and bound, the human kept to the shadows until he reached the cave entrance and then, peeking his head around the corner and finding no one, probably because they were all running hell for leather towards the palace, he cautiously walked in.

'Idiots,' he accused mentally. 'They didn't even leave a single guard.'

His heart was in his throat, constricting it, as he feared what he might find.

Pushing these fears aside, he looked around, taking everything in at a glance. Legolas would not like this place, not at all. It was dark in all the corners and the fire was dying, making things even dimmer. Not wanting to risk someone hearing him, Aragorn decided against calling out for the Elf.

Walking, in the back, near one of the darker corners, Aragorn suddenly stumbled, his foot catching on something and he heard a gasp. Catching himself and bracing his hands on the wall, he heard a despairing sigh and a moan as he stepped back and his foot barely came down on something soft and was instantly recoiled. "Legolas?" he asked quietly, sidestepping and crouching down by the dark figure he could see as the sparks popped in the fire and provided a little more light for a split second.

"Please, just leave me alone," the bound figure breathed miserably, almost begging. He hadn't opened his eyes but he didn't want to, after coming back to consciousness and finding himself still here, bound and in the darkness all alone he felt despair enter into his heart. Memories from his last cave experience were too strong and though he was refusing over and over again to let them own him he was gradually beginning to give in.

Feeling hands lightly brushing some of his hair away from his face, he winced and withdrew, using his bound feet to push himself backwards. "Leave me alone," he repeated, groaning as his movements aggravated his bruises.

"Now how could you ask me to do such a thing, mellon nin?" Aragorn asked in a friendly voice. "And after I came all this way for you!" he teased as the Elf opened one eye and quickly shut it again, his fair face scrunching up.

For a brief moment he was reminded all too sharply of Calmir or King, seeing a human peering down on him through the dim light. Suddenly he opened his eyes and blinked, staring into the face of Aragorn. "Estel?" he asked softly, trying to confirm he wasn't imagining things as a side effect of the poison he had ingested. "Is it really you?"

Aragorn smiled as he took out a knife from his boot and began to saw at Legolas' bonds on his wrists. "Of course it's me! I haven't had any other identity my whole life and I am not going to change just for you."

The Elf smiled. "I was hoping as much."

Suddenly he winced as the bonds broke and blood rushed back into his hands, giving him no insignificant amount of pain. Looking around more calmly than he had in the past few hours, it was easier to ignore the cave walls with Aragorn by his side but still, it was difficult to block out all fears recreated by them. To take his mind off the pressing darkness, he asked curiously, "how did you find me?"

Aragorn went silent, even his breathing stopped for a moment as he tried to dismiss the fact that he had nearly not found the Elf. "I had a little help from your cousin," he admitted, continuing now with the sawing of the bonds about the prince's ankles.

Legolas winced again as the blood flooded back into his feet and then he tried slowly to sit up, curling in on himself as his movements incited the venom to shoot pain through him once more. "Voronwë? But I thought he was dead?" Legolas asked in confusion.

Aragorn was silent and Legolas didn't press further, too tired and in too much pain to really care.

"Can you walk?" Aragorn asked softly, gently trying to ease the prince to his feet. Legolas refused the help and dragged himself up, swaying dangerously as he stood and Aragorn gripped his shoulders helpfully. He felt Legolas flinch under his touch and loosened his grip, surprised.

"Just a bit sore is all," the Elf explained as he saw Aragorn's face covered in concern. "Really, I will…be all right."

Aragorn wasn't so easily put off. He knew Legolas and one thing the Elf consistently did was underestimate his injuries and Aragorn was convinced he did it on purpose.

Scowling, he began to tug Legolas towards the dwindling firelight. They didn't have long but while the firelight was here he knew he had better make use of it because they might not get another chance for quite some time. Legolas reluctantly allowed himself to be forced into a sitting position as the ranger inspected the bruises, becoming angrier by the minute. "Legolas you are lucky not to be one giant bruise disregarding your face!"

The prince frowned and said defensively, "well it wasn't exactly like I asked them to kick me around!" Aragorn found the welts the rope had left and his fingers lightly traced them, causing Legolas to jerk away and glare.

During his scrutinizing search, he managed to find Legolas' slashed hand, which explained a good portion of the blood he had found and the handprint. Seeing two broken pieces of crockery protruding from the skin Aragorn looked sympathetically at the Elf who was already grimacing.

"Don't even say it," the prince stated dully.

"Don't say what?" Aragorn asked, confused.

"That it will hurt," the Elf replied, already gritting is teeth.

"Well you already seem to realize it will so I suppose I don't have to," the man answered with a thin smile.

He carefully used the tips of his fingers to reach into the deep lacerations, having no other way to get a grip on the pieces. Jerking gently, he pulled one free and tossed it on the ground before prodding Legolas' fingers apart and finding the second piece. Removing it from the hand as well, he continued to search for any more smaller pieces and was nearly thrilled when he found none though he was sure he couldn't be half as pleased as Legolas.

And the Elf had to admit; it felt a whole lot better. And on the whole, though it seemed to take centuries, the entire procedure had taken up less than a minute.

"Legolas!" the ranger gasped as his eyes fell on the cracked open wound to the Elf's chest. He had only gotten that stitched five or six months ago! It was never going to heal properly if it wasn't given the chance! Legolas would be lucky if he didn't have a scar for the rest of his days.

"Yeah, Lostiâ took special interest in that," Legolas mumbled under his breath, watching the coals burning lower and lower. They reflected in his darkened blue eyes, making an orange glow gleam in their center as he allowed his thoughts to be absorbed by the dimming fire.

Not having time or the means to treat the wound now, Aragorn could only hiss in sympathy as he looked at the dried blood and the inflamed edges. If it wasn't infected already then he was an idiot.

Legolas began to get uneasy and stared at the human a bit pleadingly. "Care to leave now?" He didn't want to risk getting captured by Lostiâ a second time and he certainly didn't want Aragorn to suffer at his hands or simply be killed.

Aragorn looked at their surroundings and then grinned encouragingly. "I suppose we aught to, huh?"

When Legolas didn't grin back, the ranger allowed his small smile to fade. The Elf doubled over and groaned, his arms across his stomach, cradling it as pain seized up his muscles. Only this time the pain didn't last only momentarily but lingered, throbbing unceasingly.

Aragorn undid the brooch holding Legolas' cloak to him and slid it from his own shoulders, draping it over the Elf gently as he asked, "why do you keep seizing up like that? Legolas, you are beginning to scare me."

The prince looked at his friend through pain glazed eyes and shivered before answering. "P-poison…s-s-strange…p-poison." Another convulsion wracked his body and he leaned against the ranger, gagging, as the acidic taste rose from the back of his throat. All he wanted was water.

Aragorn knew they couldn't stay here a minute longer. Tugging the Elf to his feet, he felt Legolas grasp his arm as he nearly collapsed. This was never going to work. Legolas couldn't walk in this state, or at least not quickly enough to evade Lostiâ and his treacherous band. "I promise I won't let you get captured again, Legolas. But you have to trust me."

The prince nodded, if you could call the minute movement of his head a nod. His eyes were clenched shut as his forehead became drenched in an icy sweat as his cheeks flushed unnaturally red. He didn't expect they would make it more than a mile before Lostiâ along with Arandur and possibly Rána caught up with them and killed them both for their trouble.

Aragorn found himself hard put to keep his eyes open as he suddenly began to feel so strangely….

"Leave without me," Legolas plead. "I w-will only…slow you down…you'll get c-captured t-too…"

Aragorn narrowed his eyes and helped Legolas a few feet further. "No. Never. I came to get you out and I am not leaving without you!"

Legolas stumbled and caught himself by grabbing Aragorn's arm, struggling back to his feet desperately, determined not to bring Aragorn down with him. "We h-have to…go f-faster…" He knew their chances of getting free were slim even if he wasn't hurt this badly and now he was sure it was just plain impossible.

"I know, you pig-headed creature! And I am sorry, your majesty, but I am going to have to carry you otherwise you will slow us down and we will be caught," he informed as he stopped walking and caught the Elf as he fell, sent off balance by the abrupt halt.

Collecting Legolas in his arms, Aragorn took advantage of the fact that the Elf couldn't bodily resist. Any other time Legolas would have absolutely refused and pulled free and Aragorn couldn't blame him. But now he was just too tired and consciousness was fading again as the venom seemed to awaken and start all over.

Doing his best not to jolt the nearly weightless Elf as he ran from the cave entrance, Aragorn whispered, "Once we find a place to hide us I will tend to you. I have still a little Athelas left."

TBC…Uh-oh! Isn't this an evil and convenient clifie? Well, Happy Early Halloween to you all! Eat lots of candy! oh, and please review:) lol (pair of authoresses hides from lynching party of demanding readers). lol