Hey everyone. I'm sorry, this one won't be as well written as I'd like, I just got my wisdom teeth pulled and I must say, I'm not feeling all that great! Also, I'm sorry about the long wait between chapters. My computer broke down and now, after two months, I finally have it back. I hope you all like it!

Overthrown

Chapter 15

Battle in the Brown Lands

Part 3

Elladan had a split second to act. He swung his dagger up in front of him and hit the ground hard on his back. The Warg had over jumped and, by the sheer force of its own momentum, embedded the dagger deep into its own belly.

Elladan twisted the blade viciously, his own Elf agility creating the swift moving scene into a slow motion dream. As though the world had obediently slowed down, he twisted the dagger and sliced to the right. The Warg passed clean over him without so much as leaving a scratch on his body.

The Warg snarled and snapped at him, unaware of its own mortal injury until its guts spilled out into a pile on the ground beneath it. It keeled over, dying.

Approaching it slowly, Elladan watched its death throes with grim satisfaction before wiping his dagger on its hide and turning to Legolas.

Legolas was faring no better. He'd managed to throw the large Warg off him but the blind one was incredibly intuitive. It sniffed the air, sensing him out. At any moment it would lunge and the one who could see was drawing his attention to it, forcing him to turn his back on the blind enemy.

It was uncomfortable and even more unnerving to realize that his senses were dulled by the unspeakable lull of the poison coursing through his veins.

Elladan was coming up on him fast but not before that large Warg in front of him leapt into action, snapping its large yellow teeth and sending its goopy drool to fall like rain on the surrounding grass. Legolas just managed to get out of its way, feeling its rough hair brush the back of his legs as it passed.

So, therefore, he was shocked when its body changed direction at the last minute and slammed into him, sending him sprawling onto his front, the weight of the Warg grinding into him painfully as it thrashed and twisted on top of him.

Gimli had sat by Valdaglarion's side for the longest while, listening to his heavy breathing. Would this be a fate awaiting Legolas in the end? Gimli closed his eyes and listened to the labored breath. He imagined it was Legolas' breath he could hear and probed his feelings. Tears welled suddenly in his eyes and he snapped away from the harshness, of his thoughts.

Legolas would be fine. He would live! Except for one bruise on his forearm during the battle at the black gates, Legolas had been perfectly unharmed all through the fiasco with the ring. Gimli had of course bugged him endlessly about it, but their teasing was just harmless fun.

Now Legolas was in real peril and his pretty looks wouldn't help him through it. Gimli turned his eyes back on Valdaglarion again, reminding himself that Legolas wasn't the one lying there, breathing as though every searing gasp would be his last.

'This might be him, though,' Gimli told himself firmly. 'You may be sitting here soon, watching Legolas' last breaths escape his blue lips. The great, strange friendship will be over. He'll die and…'

Gimli shook himself mentally and began wiping the back of his hand over his wet cheeks. Elrohir entered a few seconds later and Gimli hastily turned his wiping into itching. If Elrohir noticed, he made no mention of it. He merely glanced from Gimli to the injured elf with an expression impossible to read and then said, "They will be on us soon."

"How many?" Gimli asked gruffly, noticing that as he did so, he sounded like he had a bad head cold.

"Five." Elrohir answered blandly. "They by-passed Estel and his men and are moving towards us fast. The other three have engaged the riders."

"That should be simple. Legolas and your brother had twice as many. Can you see them?" Elrohir's face clouded in shadow.

"I cannot bring myself to look properly." His voice was thin and held a note of desperation. "I can only see movement beyond. They still battle, but…" He trailed off and turned back to the tent flap door. "Faramir is rounding up the men with Kelser. We are banding them together around this tent. Valdaglarion must be kept safe."

"I agree." Gimli boomed, jumping to his feet and hefting his axe. "I say they hurry and bare their ugly faces so my axe can greet them with my compliments."

Elrohir grinned blandly and nodded, eyeing the now excited Dwarf with mild interest before turning his attention on the small patch of land far beyond the city of tents.

Lodrin gulped as he noticed a shadow shifting in the black abyss to his left. Had it been simply his imagination or had he really just seen a Warg approaching? Turning his gaze over the many men bouncing gently in their saddles, some with grim faces, others looking outwardly sick, Lodrin realized many of them were watching the shadows where he had been looking.

The realization that he had really seen something was worse then not having noticed, he decided. Now his palms were dripping with sweat and small beads of aforementioned moisture was also running down the sides of his face and itching his lower back.

Shuddering, he stared up the queues of men to see Aragorn's back, ram rod straight. He hardly shifted with his horse's steps, years training on horseback. Though worried almost to the point of blind panic, Lodrin still couldn't help but admire his posture and power…and feel slightly inadequate.

Lodrin had never been a large and imposing man. Barely into his twentieth summer, he still looked much younger. He had always been awed by the higher ranking individuals that he saw. Aragorn was a sight to hold, a pillar of undoubtable strength and valor. The grey streaks in his scruffy beard and hair, the lines in his face only enhanced the regal, harnessed strength that bubbled inside him. He was someone Lodrin could give honor to merely by looking at him.

It was much the same with Lodrin's father. Though not a king, Loberin was a mighty man, tall and intimidating. He could command silence with a mere glance and Lodrin had always thought his father deserved greater things then the small spit of a town he governed. But, wasn't that what all good son's thought? That their father deserved more then the short end of the stick?

Lodrin would do anything for his father, as any child who respected their parents would. When he thought about this, however, an unbidden part of his mind wondered vaguely if he could do as his older brother had and taken a sword to the gut for him.

Legolas would, he realized with a jolt. He had only seen Legolas once when he was younger. He could remember it clearly, the whole town had been buzzing about the royal visit. Lodrin had not been allowed to meet the Elves, it was his brother's duty and besides, Lodrin's father had been afraid his incredibly shrill voice would grind on their royal nerves. It wasn't his fault, he was six after all.

None the less, this hadn't deterred the youngster. He had hidden ungracefully in the bushes after being chased out of the kitchen, horse barn and empty water barrel by the fence. He had waited for hours, the leaves, thorns and branches scratching at his bare arms. After two hours of crouching in the thick bushes he'd been about to give up when he noticed five slow moving, elegant horses coming up the path. Four of the five had riders, one was being led along.

Lodrin extracted himself from the bushes carefully, checked the coast was clear and then stepped out into the path. The figure leading the horse looked up; the silver hood covering his head fell back slightly to revel bright blond hair hanging loosely onto slender shoulders and a silver clad chest. Blue eyes had watched him intently as he'd passed; a small smile had formed on his lips.

"Legolas." The King had said gracefully, drawing the young elf's eyes away from the human and to his right, pulling his beautiful face from his sight. "Lead us in." And that had been what he'd done. As the others had dismounted, Legolas had handed his reins to the stable boy and glanced over at the boy who'd stood with his mouth wide open, watching. Bowing slightly, he'd followed his father and other delegates into the house and closed the door behind him.

Lodrin smiled at the memory. Legolas Thranduilion, he had later found out, was the King's son. He had been allowed to see their departure but it hadn't bothered him. The Prince of Mirkwood had offered him a smile which would last forever.

His thoughts were interrupted by a Warg lunging out of the darkness so swiftly and suddenly it had looked as though it were made of shadow. The man in front of him was knocked off his horse. Lodrin cried out in shock. His horse reared and he was thrown off its back and launched through the darkness. He landed hard on his back and watched as horse hooves plunged and thrust above him. They were coming down…

Gimli heard the dismayed cry of a young man outside before he realized fully that the Wargs were there. The guttural growls and snapping of large jaws shook Valdaglarion out of his pained sleep. The elf opened his swollen eyes and stared unseeingly around the tent. Gimli laid a hand on his shoulder as comfortingly as he could and said, "Everything will be alright, lad. Hold tight."

Weather or not the elf heard him or understood him in his pained state, Gimli didn't know. He felt it was important to add some comfort. Suddenly, Kelser pushed into the tent followed by three young, scared looking men and a senior officer. They all held large swords and looked grim.

"These men will help you." Kelser announced, indicating the men. Gimli shook his head.

"No, I am looking forward to taking my axe and…" But, before Gimli could graphically explain the grisly motions he was making with his axe, a large Warg and a few soldiers, from the violent jerk on the canvas, rammed into the left side of the tent. The pole on the side snapped cleanly in the middle. The left side of the tent collapsed, dragging down the sides around them and finally the middle pole, without other support, fell over. Kelser pushed Gimli out of the way just as the pole fell.

Gimli hit the ground, cursing. He pulled himself to his feet and lifted the canvas above his head. Slowly, he made his way back to the middle of the tent.

Kelser was lying on his side, the pole lying across his legs. Gimli dropped to his knees beside the fallen warrior and shook him. Kelser moaned and opened his eyes. "Leave me, I'll be fine." Gimli grunted in amusement.

"I'm a dwarf." He said indignantly. Setting his axe on the floor, he wrapped his arms around the pole and heaved. It was heavier then it looked. Kelser gave him a look that, despite the feeling that he was staring so hard his face was going to pop, he felt irked. How dare that pompous human look at him like that? He, after all, Kelser, was the one who was trapped. Gimli should be looking at him in pity, not the other way around. "I have a battle to win." Gimli growled. He let the beam rest and grabbed his axe. "I'll come and help you when I can." Kelser looked smug.

"I dare say you will." Kelser answered blandly. With a resigned sigh, he let his head fall onto the ground and stared up at the canvas roof that, for the moment, Gimli was holding up. Without Gimli acting as a pillow, the canvas would fall and Kelser would be blanketed completely. "Go on Dwarf, before the battle is over."

"You don't have to worry about that." Gimli snorted. Stepping carefully over the beam and holding his hand high to push away the canvas, Gimli worked his way towards the tent flap.

He hardly had a successful journey. Twice he got tangled up in the rugs or blankets. He tripped over a toppled chair and stepped on an elvish book which slipped out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Damn Elves!" Gimli roared, trying to get to his feet but, only succeeding to roll around on his back. "Damn you elves! I hope all your ears fall off and your perfect hair frizzes." Finally, he managed to get up. "I hope your skin rots and you're all damned to a life of mortality!"

He began hacking at the canvas, still cursing. "I hope you all get tremendously fat and ugly! I hope you all choke on your damn flaky bread!" And, with the final curse of, "Elves!" Falling from his lips, Gimli's sword thrust up from its canvas bonding and pierced the night sky. The canvas ripped and Gimli, son of Gloin was free at last. "Now, bring me a Warg to greet!"

All the guards were watching him, amusement etched onto their faces. It shone through the blood, the shock and the fear. They were quiet and still. It was then Gimli noticed that all the Wargs were dead, the last of which having been dispatched a few minutes before.

"Damn." Gimli muttered. The men broke out into laughter.

The Warg finally stopped thrashing. Legolas lay very still beneath it, listening to the far off sounds of battle and the closer ones, as Elladan dispatched the blind Warg. In pain and weary, Legolas made no attempt to move until someone grabbed his wrists and began to pull.

He tried to lift his head but couldn't. He simply allowed the someone to drag him out from under the Warg and roll him over.

Legolas opened his eyes and groaned but his vision was obscured by blood, weather his or not he couldn't tell. The figure above him was hooded and dark but defiantly an elf. The elf ran cool hands down his face and then across his neck. A light clinking told Legolas the figure had found Laren's necklace, on the end was the broken moon pendant. The figure caressed it, the light fragrance of the deepest woods assaulted his senses and he took in a deep breath, thinking of home. The figure's hand moved down his shirt, pressing hard on his skin beneath. The figure's head was lowered, face thrown into shadow. When its hand ran over his injured side, Legolas let out an involuntary hiss of pain. The figure fumbled with his clothing and lifted his shirt, staring at the wound beneath. Its cool fingers traced the patterns of poison on his skin.

Suddenly, from nowhere, Elladan's shadowed body launched from the night and bowled the strange elf over. There was a piercing female scream, high as a whistling wind, yet ten times more beautiful and fair. The sounds of scuffling met his ears but Legolas had not the strength to lift his head, he simply listened until Elladan appeared at his side. The lonely twin raised hand and revealed blood on his palm.

"That elf is injured." He answered. "Injured and poisoned." Legolas allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

Aragorn grabbed Lodrin and helped him stand. The spooked horse that had nearly stepped on him had been thrown onto its side at the last moment by a warg, which was lucky, as the child had nearly been killed.

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked. Lodrin nodded faintly and surveyed the area. The wargs were dead, as were three men. "We faired well."

Lodrin couldn't see how, but nodded all the same, embarrassed. He had done nothing but fall from his horse and had to have been saved, again. Aragorn seemed to read his thoughts.

"You were brave." He said assuredly. Lodrin shook his head, frowning. He knew he looked as lost as he felt. Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder. "Bravery is not in how many enemies you take down. It's in riding out to face them when you know not how many you'll meet." He smiled. "Now come, Legolas and Elladan need our help."

Lodrin nodded and glanced around at the others. They all looked distinctly ruffled and worse for the wear. All were cleaning off the blades of their swords with the corners of shirts and pants. Gariel was near by, his shinning dagger glinting bluish in the moonlight, not a drop of blood marred his crisp, clean tunic.

The dagger caught his eyes. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, which was for sure. The blade was definitely blue, strange juts on the tip reminded him of a severed jaw and uneven, sharp teeth. The blade was unmistakably clean and beautiful.

Gariel looked up suddenly and found Lodrin watching him. He stowed his blade and walked away, through the men to his horse. Lodrin shivered, but not from the cold.

Legolas and Elladan were sitting side by side when the riders arrived. Aragorn grinned and leapt down from his mount. Crouching he peered at thye two in the darkness. Both smiled dimly and soon Aragorn grabbed them both in a huge embrace so hard and fast, their heads banged together. Letting go of Elladan, Aragorn gripped Legolas still tighter to him and whispered, "if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll kill you myself."

Legolas gave a derisive snort which Aragorn took to mean that Legolas couldn't think of anything less conceivable . Knowing his brother had heard the remark, Aragorn let go of the Prince and pointed at Elladan.

"And if you let him, the fate will be worse." Aragorn threatened. Elladan merely grinned.

"Don't worry, I'll prevent it myself." Said a small voice behind him. Aragorn turned to see Pippin standing behind him, hands on his hips, enjoying the scene. Obviously noting the surprise on the King's face, Pippin continued, "Didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you? Besides, you left all the brave, strong and handsome men back at camp. You needed men to come along and balance it all out."

"Then why did you come?" Elladan asked. A few of the mounted men nearest them grumbled good heartedly and made derogatory comments about the Hobbit's height. Pippin simply laughed.

"How did you…" Aragorn began, but a young guard stepped forward and bowed.

"My lord," he said respectfully, "I must say I was the one who brought him along. He is terribly persuasive." Aragorn raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sure he is." He commented dryly.

Suddenly, from out on the plains they heard whinnying. Elladan and Legolas instantly turned at the sound. Out in the darkness galloped their lost horses. They seemed fine but there was no longer just two. Three horses galloped towards them, like spirits. Legolas jumped to his feet when he saw the third, all pain forgotten.

"Arod!" he cried, springing forward. The horse cried out joyfully and stopped next to Legolas who gasped grasped the sides of the creature's head and gently kissed its cheek. "You are alright! What of the others?" And the men watched as the two friends shared news. Aragorn couldn't think of anything that could have lifted his friend's spirits more then this.

"Estel." Elladan whispered in the man's ear. Aragorn turned and looked into his brother's eyes. They were worried and soon, Elladan raised a bloody, black streaked hand.

"Is that Legolas?" Aragorn asked, turning worriedly to look at his friend. Elladan shook his head.

"No, this is from the elf who did that." He pointed to the dead Warg that had crushed Legolas. An arrow stuck from its back. "I have a lot to tell you."

Back at camp, Faramir was grim. He kneeled down, next to the tent that had once been Aragorn's.

"What troubles you?" Elrohir asked, crouching next to the man. Faramir pointed at the downed tent canvas.

"This pole was snapped on purpose." He said. There is a vertical strike. Gimli says it was a Warg and a few men that hit it, but I don't believe so."

"Why though? The elf?" Faramir paused for a moment and then nodded.

"We have a traitor among us. And look at this." Faramir reached into the small hole and extracted three long, ginger hairs. "The man who attacked Legolas and the son of Lodrin in that alley had red hair, did he not?"

TO MY REVIEWERS:

Elithraniel Hi, and thank you for the review. Read it all morning? Well, that must have taken you forever. Thanks for the dedication, it's very much appreciated.

Lol: Hi, thanks for both the reviews! You'll see just how much trouble that poison causes. I'm sorry it took so long to update, computer troubles.

Coolio02: Well, I hope you liked this chapter. I'm sorry it took so long. Hope you're still with me.

Reiji Neko Mitsukai I'm sorry this took so long, I'll try to make my next update sooner.

Cethwin; Thanks very much, I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry it took so long to update (man, I'm saying that a lot lately) lol.

Faerlas: Well, back by popular demand, I'll take my chances with the rule change and continue doing what I love, answering all of you wonderful people. Thank you for your review.

Moonyasha: Yeah, I know, that was my reaction. I'm going to ignore that rule and hope and pray that I don't get caught. I like answering to my reviewers far too much to not take advantage of it. Thanks for the review.

Slayer3: LOL, thank you for the review. You've had a nice, long time now to be okay from your fainting spell. Hope you liked this chapter.

morph: Thank you, I hope you liked it. Sorry about the long wait between updates.

Jedi Padfoot Yeah, of course Legolas kicks ass, he's Legolas, the most ass-kicking elf in Middle Earth. Thank you for the review and I'm sorry for the wait.

Elessar-Lover: I'm sorry, I bet now you were REALLY wondering if I was alive. I was wondering myself, with my absence. That made almost no sense…anyway, thank you for the review and I'm sorry for the wait again. I truly am!

Kelsey Estel Thank you, I try really hard with the fight scenes. LOL. Thanks for the review and I'm sorry for the wait.

AND TO ANYONE I MAY HAVE MISSED OR IS JUST NOT REVIEWING, THANK YOU SO MUCH.