Author's Note:

Hello again! Thank you ALL so much for the very helpful comments and support!

A quick disclaimer/warning: While I am an enormous Tolkien/LOTR fan, I am by no means an expert! I try my best to be accurate and add in bits of detail to compliment the plot, but the focus should be on the plot. A special thanks to Laire for the good and very very detailed advice, I will try watch out for the elvin/elven adjectives and have modified the mentions of Andruil and Ithilien in previous chapters etc. etc. etc. As for time frame/distances, different forms of the elvish language etc. I repeat:

I am not an expert, nor do i wish to be. This is a hobby, a stress reliever.

I ask that you please use your imagination!I am a full time student and while I'd love to be completely precise, it's not likely to happen. All will be revealed, regarding Elimerel's knowledge of Aragorn's identity. I think that addresses everything: ) Alright, on with the story…

-Athena

p.s. for the record… a horse can technically can go up to 100 miles in 10-12 hours (endurance racing)…so if haste was needed it is unlikely but not so unbelievable that a distance of 300 miles could be reached in 7 full days…

Five

Legolas cursed inwardly. He thought of his bow, leaning neatly against the foot of the bed in the chambers given them by the good king. How could I be so absent minded? He scolded himself, cursing too the intense pain that would not relent and ever reverberated at the base of his skull. The night was dark and silent. They had made it to the horses without event. Aragorn had managed to retrieve some herbs, but they would take time to work, and they were for a more general purpose. In order to neutralize the poison Aragorn would have to identify it which would take time, time they could only achieve after escaping from this place so obviously filled with evil. So he would deal with the pain, until the herbs relieved him, if they could help him at all. And to make matters all the more grim, he was without his bow.

Aragorn glanced quickly behind him, making certain that the elf prince was close. He was worried about Legolas. The poison would only worsen and he feared for the consequences of waiting to long to neutralize it. But what could they do now? They had released the horses, sent them down river by way of the stable gate which was positioned on the edge of the city's border. Elimerel seemed not aware of their suspicions as the city was lightly guarded, the borders apparently open. But Aragorn and Legolas would not leave without Elrohir. The horses would wait some ways down the bank, ready to aid in their escape.

He watched in silence as the horses trotted away, emerging from the city he dared not enter. They disappeared in the foliage and shadow, obediently headed to their destination. He nodded in approval, a wise decision to send the horses away. They would need a means of fast escape. They would escape, though easily he doubted. But regardless he would wait, be waiting when they did emerge. It was all that he could do, for now...
"Aragorn-" Legolas murmured, coming swiftly to stand beside him. He motioned to the ground. Aragorn furrowed his brow in concern.

A few crushed leaves and a broken branch.

There had been a struggle here.

"We are close-" Aragorn whispered back. He picked up the trail almost immediately and they followed, slipping in and out of the shadows with ease. They passed many trees that the two knew to be hollowed and occupied by some elf in slumber. But soon, the forest began to thin and the trees began to get thinner as well. They continued to track, falling deeper and deeper into the heart of Lamias, the moon waning overhead and making its own decent into darkness. As the trees thinned, Legolas got the distinct feeling that they were alone and that this portion of the city was somehow separated from the rest.

His steps were light and agile, following quickly behind Aragorn, ever alert. The scene before him was a collage of grey and black. The dark bark of the trees seemed to meld with the earth, bleeding into the ground until he could barley tell the two apart. The colors, or lack there of, continued to bleed into one another and his vision trapped in grayscale began to fade as the entire world suddenly tipped to a vertical plane. Legolas swayed, inhibited by the sudden nausea and a torrent of dizziness that flooded his entire consciousness. "Est-" he managed, before losing all feeling in his knees, which promptly gave way beneath him.

He never felt the hard ground colliding with his weakened body.

Aragorn sprang quickly to his aid, catching the suddenly pale elf in his arms and lowering him safely to the ground. " Legolas-" He whispered urgently. "Esta sinome, mellonamin. I am here," he whispered reassuringly. " Hodo, can you here me?"

Legolas' eyes fluttered open as consciousness refused to leave him. His blurred vision cleared slowly to reveal the bright blue eyes of his closest friend, livid with fear and concern. He blinked once, determinately, then nodded in answer. He opened his mouth to speak but was surprised to find such difficulty in finding his voice.

"It is as I feared, this is a possible effect of the herb I gave you earlier. While the herb will help against the poison, there are effects that can occur as a result of side reactions. The good news is this gives me much more information about the poison's identity." He helped his friend to sit up, allowing Legolas to lean against him. Legolas would never willingly lean. Aragorn continued. "Unfortunately, it is a worse poison than I hoped, we must get you out of here as soon as possible."

" Not without...Elrohir..." Legolas managed, regaining his composure and some of his strength. "I will manage-" he murmured, his voice a rough whisper. In truth, he prayed to the Valar for strength. While his knowledge in herb lore did not equal that of Aragorn, he too knew quite a bit about the subject. He knew enough to know that the reaction he had just experienced meant that the poison which coursed through his veins was none other than Kanine, an ancient yet potent mineral meant to subdue its victim, permanently if left untreated. Aragorn knew this as well, but was unwilling to say it aloud. He knew that time was of the essence. Legolas guessed now that it had been in his drink during the supper. The taste from the cup was metallic but at that time he thought nothing of it. Strange how the drug had no effect on humans. Legolas was sure they would have tried to drug them both, but Aragorn showed no signs of altered state, save his intense worry. Lucky for both of us . The though was fleeting.

He was standing now, firmly on his feet and able to once again resume his course behind Aragorn who had continued to track. It was not long before they arrived at the center of a ring of trees, a small clearing marked by a very large and old trunk, undoubtedly hollow. It was not as large as the trunks used for their chambers, but certainly large enough for one elf-

"The tracks stop here," Aragorn whispered to Legolas, who stood beside him. His words materialized in the cold air as a white cloud, illustrating the chill that had settled in the air.

Legolas drew his dagger and approached the large tree. Aragorn followed in silence. Even more frightening than the possibility of not finding Elrohir was the possibility of finding him for they could not guess the torment he would have endured to this point from the day of his arrival in fair Lamias of the Firien Wood.

They approached the large tree without words. Aragorn laid his hands on the rough bark and slowly slid them downwards, trying to find something to betray a door or a lock. He felt a thin groove just to his right and followed it down, tracing the line patiently. "Here, it must open somehow from here..."

Legolas too searched the bark. He had sheathed his dagger now, placing both hands carefully on the tree and searching. It crumbled beneath his searching fingers and then finally- " I have found it ," He whispered, drawing away to examine the small Elvin lock fashioned of a bronze material and set among the ridges.

Aragorn drew his sword in one smooth motion. "Stand back, Legolas."

Rathim shifted uncomfortably in his sleep. It was an uneventful detail, posted at the watch ring. The tree had been untouched for some time and Rathim was sure that this night would pass as quietly as the rest. It had been long since Lamias had need of a watch guard at the Lonely Tree, and at first the assignment appealed to him. He was posted near the most dangerous variable. His alarm would mean the difference between life and death- at least that is what Dalinor told him a week ago. But now, he grew tired of this watch.

But alas, the sun was nearly rising and his relief would arrive soon.

SWOOSH

CLANG- THUD

Rathim shot up in surprise, his eyes darting to the place below him. He could see clearly, from his perch in the trees, the two gray figures. He gasped in disbelief, shifting his gaze in time to see the hidden lock fall to the forest floor. How could he have been so foolish? Elves were supposed to be alert, yet he had been seduced by boredom and bitterness. He reached for his bow, then thought better of it. Two of the, one of him. And it was the Prince of Mirkwood and the strange ranger no less. Could he kill them? Would he be responsible for starting a war? No- he would run for help. He slung the bow on his back and easily jumped down form the tree, sprinting back towards the great hall. Dalinor would hear of this...

Legolas glanced around nervously, sure he had heard something rustling in the brush. Aragorn was reaching carefully for the wood, pulling it back...

"No-" Aragorn fell to his knees, unable to stifle the small gasp.

Before him lay the still form of his brother, slumped limply against the interior of the tree's trunk. His hands were bound behind him, hidden from view. Aragorn quickly knelt beside him, a gentle hand moving swiftly to the elf's bruised neck. "He is alive-" he sighed at last, relief flooding his voice. Legolas let out a breath he had not intended to hold.

Elrohir may have seemed in peaceful slumber had it not been for the extremely pale skin and awkwardly bent leg which Legolas knew, with a sinking heart, to be broken. The shadows cast a wicked shade over his fallen form, making it nearly impossible to assess the extent from his injuries in the wooden prison.

"Elrohir-" Aragorn whispered softly, urgently, his voice betraying his concern.

Elrohir made no sign of acknowledgment, did not stir. Aragorn fought against the tide of panic which threatened to pull him under with crashing force. "Elrohir-" his voice louder.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. " Let us get him out of this darkness, mellonamin. Too long have they kept him in these shadows..." Legolas whispered, bending to one knee behind Aragorn. His own anger raged within him. They claimed to be elves . How could they be so cruel to their own kin? Such morbid evil. Prolonged darkness to an elf is worse than death itself, like a living hell. Legolas shivered involuntarily. How longed had they kept his friend here like this? Without light, without hope? He felt hot tears well at the thought of their last meeting. Elrohir, mounted proud and strong, waving farewell as they parted ways in the forests surrounding Imladris. And now he lay still, in shadow, the spark extinguished-

They moved forward and, each caring for a side, gently eased the elf from the confines of the tree. Aragorn quickly cut the ropes tied mercilessly around his wrists. He cradled his brother in his arms, letting Elrohir's back rest against his chest. Elrohir's head fell to Aragorn's shoulder. By the light of the moon Legolas could see that outwardly Elrohir was not badly beaten. A tin line of blood from a head wound immediately caught his attention. " Probably a result of his capture," he murmured, proceeding with the examination.

Aragorn whispered words of encouragement to his brother, slipping naturally into the elfish tongue of their youth. "Uuma dela Elrohir, you are safe now."

" His leg is broken," Legolas whispered, gently prodding at the twisted limb. "Probably a result of falling from his horse- He must have been ambushed," Legolas continued, holding the leg more firmly to feel for the broken bones. The leggings were stained with blood as a shard of bone broke through the skin.

Aragorn and Legolas tensed as Legolas' ministrations elicited a low groan from their formerly unresponsive friend. "Elrohir?" Legolas tested tentatively.

"Legolas," Aragorn's grey eyes met Legolas' blue ones in a tense moment. " It must be corrected," he whispered, his voice shaky but firm.

Legolas nodded, understood. Better to do it now than when Elrohir regained his consciousness fully. He took in a breath. "You must hold him, it will cause him much pain," he spoke, his voice above a whisper.

Aragorn nodded, holding Elrohir tighter. "Be strong, my brother, it will be better soon.." he murmured as Legolas readied to proceed. He positioned himself before them, taking the leg gently in his hands. He glanced up at Aragorn and with a slight nod, pulled with great might.

Elrohir arched in pain, a strangled cry escaping his pale lips. His eyes were clenched tightly shut as he desperately struggled to escape his perceived captors grasp. Aragorn spoke words to soothe him but they had no apparent affect as Elrohir was lost in world of torment.

Finally Legolas laid the corrected leg to rest. He removed his cloak and bound it firmly about the broken limb to ensure it would heal. Thankfully, elves healed very quickly, gift from the Valar. Elrohir had settled now, his strength leaving him. He trembled uncontrollably, his body recovering from the shock it had endured.

"Elrohir, hear my voice and come back to the light," Legolas whispered in elfish, a hand resting gently on his pale face.

Elrohir knew nothing but pain, the worst pain he had ever experienced, or at least it seemed that way. And then suddenly it was gone, as swiftly as it had come. Before that he knew darkness, an impenetrable darkness robbing him of air, of light, of life. But there had been no pain there...leading him to believe that his situation had somehow changed. Slowly feeling returned to his numbed body as he felt the soft rays of moonlight...light...beckoning for him to open his eyes...in that moment he became aware of many other things. Voices, whispers, calling his name, and strong arms around his chest.

Grey eyes fluttered open, blinking drowsily in confusion. "Le-golas?" He rasped, his voice rough from days without use. The Prince of Mirkwood smiled brightly before him, his intense gaze broken suddenly by the pure relief which shown in his eyes.

"Welcome back, mellonamin," He professed.

Elrohir suddenly became aware of the presence behind him. " Aragorn?" He breathed, the drowsiness willed away, but the confusion only thickening. " But how-" he gasped suddenly as the memories returned as a swift gust of wind. " Firien! I mean Lamias- there is danger here. We must not linger, you should not have come here!"

Aragorn's voice was soothing, confident. "Easy, brother. You have endured much, please try to calm yourself. Elimerel is in league with Sauron, of that we are certain. Now that we have found you, we will leave this place and warn father of this new danger." His thoughts fell to Elladan. Valar protect him A full explanation would have to wait.

"Tell me, Elrohir. I have seen your leg, do you suffer from any other wound?"

Elrohir shook his head slowly, recounting the encounter in his mind with vivid detail. Legolas seemed satisfied with this. He opened his mouth to speak again but was silence suddenly by the sound of footsteps on the wind, many footsteps.

"Aragorn, we are discovered. We cannot linger here any longer," he turned to Elrohir. " Can you stand?"

" With your aid," he replied. With that, Aragorn and Legolas helped Elrohir to his feet. The elf winced from the piercing pain that shot through his leg, but he did not protest.

Suddenly and arrow sang through the trees and struck the prison tree with a thud, embedding itself in the dark bark.

Aragorn shot a glance at Legolas who could only mutter a single word at their urgent need of haste.

"FLY!"

As the red sun rose, a thousand angry footfalls pounded on the crackling leaves of the forest floor. It was strange, when they had first arrived the haven had been flourishing and green with life. Lamias' beauty could almost rival that of Lothlorien's, though not quite. There had always been a darkness here, Aragorn knew it. And now, as they ran, the lush grass that had once cushioned their boots gave way to dry, dying leaves, speckling the once verdant floor with an array of browns, yellows, oranges and crimson red.

"Keep running!" Aragorn shouted, chancing a quick glance over his shoulder. Twenty followed, at least. He mumbled an Elvin curse, drawing his blade from its sheath.

Legolas kept a peripheral eye on Elrohir, who leaned heavily on his shoulder as they ran. Legolas tried to urge Elrohir on, but his injury did not allow for speed, and he tried desperately to match Legolas' speed but was unsuccessful as the injured leg dragged painfully behind him. Legolas gripped him tightly around the waist and held firm the arm slung around his shoulders." We are almost to the river-" He could hear the water, could see the light reflecting, but then again he had the vision of an Elf, Aragorn was not so fortunate.

Elrohir fought for breath. He could not keep this pace up much longer, he knew that to be fact. His body seemed heavier now, heavier than it had ever been thus far. His thoughts wondered and he was grateful, for he did not wish to dwell on the pain in his leg or the aching of his lungs. All around him, the forest seemed to die, as if the negative energies of their pursuers were a pollutant, poisoning a beautiful dream and mangling it into a horrid nightmare. He prayed that Elladan was safe, but a dark fear in his heart warned him otherwise. Elladan had been sent to Isengard. If what Elimerel spoke was truth and Saruman is in league with Sauron, Elladan was in grave danger.

Aragorn glanced back again, it was no use, they were gaining quickly. Up ahead, the stream and the trees…the same trees that had blocked them on the way in, the ancient magic that had defended the perimeter. Aragorn stopped. " Keep going, Legolas!" He urged, slipping into the Elvin tongue. Aragorn quickly sheathed his sword, then simultaneously pulled two daggers from his belt and aimed.

Legolas did not look back. They were so close, even Aragorn could see the fast running water shining brightly blue against the amber forest. He could sense Aragorn had stopped, then heard the daggers fly past him. The two daggers struck the very heart of two trees on the edge of the stream's bank. Immediately, the vines screeched in anger and multiplied at an alarming rate, fusing with all the other like trees on the bank to create a wall of dense vine.

"LEGOLAS! GET ELROHIR THROUGH!" Aragorn commanded, readying to run again.

They reached the wall as it was still forming. "Brace yourself, my friend-" Legolas murmured as he roughly shoved the exhausted elf forward, successfully pushing him through to the other side. Legolas jumped through, close behind. It was then that he noticed how far back Aragorn was. The man was running swiftly, within yards of the gate. Elrohir sat beside Legolas who stood in alarm, relieving the pressure on his wounded leg.

Suddenly, a high pitched sound rang through the still air.

Aragorn stumbled, slightly, his pace slowed considerably as the arrow grazed his thigh, slicing through clothes and skin. "Legolas! We have to help Estel, he'll be caught!" Elrohir stammered, watching in disbelief as the vines continued to close before them. Legolas stepped forward, between the forest and the bank, determined to hold the vine up until Aragorn could make it through. Elrohir watched in terrible anticipation, wishing he could be of some help.

Aragorn limped now, sweat beading on his brow. Suddenly, another arrow- this time making its mark. The arrow struck him from the back, in his right side. Aragorn gasped in surprise, falling to his knees.

" ESTEL!" Elrohir cried, the scream ripping from his throat.

" STRIDER!" Legolas cried in unison, struggling to hold up the increasingly weighty vines.

Aragorn shook his head. He did not make a sound, but his eyes spoke volumes. Legolas, go- save Elrohir…

Legolas' heart pounded in his chest. His eyes hardened, forcing himself to do what Aragorn was asking of him. " I swear I will return for you, my friend," He whispered, stepping back towards the bank and allowing the vines to fall and fuse.

"NO!" Elrohir protested, lashing out. It was too late, the wall was sealed.

Elrohir and Legolas sat in a shocked silence, on the banks of an unnamed river, what would have seemed like a peaceful autumn day. The wall was thick, impenetrable. They could hear or see nothing beyond it. Legolas struggled with the bitterness in his heart. He turned to Elrohir, who was breathing very heavily, the color absent from his face.

Elrohir was silent, fuming. First Elladan and now Estel, his brothers fallen to darkness and here he sat, unable to even rise on his own. The anger and frustration burned his chest, aggravating the already intense burning for air. He glanced at Legolas and was sobered somewhat by the elf's sullen expression. Elrohir quieted the rage in his heart. His composure softened.

"Legolas, they will send him to Isengard. This I know. Elimerel has no care for men, despises them. He would rather kill them all than make alliances. Saruman, however, is no fool. Isildur's heir is a valuable asset to be had if this war is to be won and he will have Estel if not on his side, then in his dungeon. Already Elladan-" he stopped, choked with emotion.

"We will not allow that to happen," Legolas interrupted him, did not allow him to finish. He stopped speaking abruptly, signaling for silence. A rustle of leave, footsteps…

Elrohir stirred slightly beside him, a shiver traveling down his spine. "Uruk-hai patrols, Elimerel threatened as much…" he whispered in disgust.

" Come now, we must get to a safe place, under the cover of the forest. Aragorn and I left the horses some ways downstream, in a safe clearing. We will make our way there. We will be of no use to our friends if we are discovered by orcs."

Elrohir reluctantly agreed and with that, they were off.

Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief as Legolas and Elrohir disappeared beyond the impassable wall of vines. His respite was short lived as the pain in his side brought him to the moment and the yells and stomping of the enemy surrounded him. In one swift motion, determined fingers wrapped viciously around the shaft. A small cry escaped him as he pulled the deeply lodged arrow from his side. The blood began to flow freely, but there was nothing he could do about that now. Taking in a sharp breath he pushed up from his knee and lashed out at his attackers, his blade singing as it left its Elven sheath. He cursed inwardly as the pain in his side and leg limited his movements, slowed him down. They came at him quickly, arrows from every direction, steel catching the fading light as dying stars. He fought indiscriminately, ducking and kicking, striking for what felt like hours but in reality may have been minutes.

Think, Aragorn, think-

As he fought, he struggled to reason an escape, to recall the layout of the city in his mind. There had been a tree, on the southern border, not far from where Legolas and Elrohir had escaped. He remembered the hidden footholds, carved in wood. The evil elves had used it the night before, to what purpose Aragorn could not tell for they ascended in the dead of night when none were awake to watch- they did not account for the ever watchful and attentive eye of the Ranger. He did not know where it would lead him, but the tree had been tall, and on the border. If he could climb it, he would have a chance at escape, at falling to safety. The choice was made.

Aragorn switched to defense, slowly making his way to the tree. But it seemed that in the short time of his mental deliberation, a small army had amassed to subdue the seemingly insubduable. The wound to his thigh made it difficult to run, and the loss of blood from the more serious injury did not aid him in his effort. He struggled to focus. A block here, another avoidance.

The Elves were skilled, more skilled than the orcs had ever been. Never in his wildest imaginings, his darkest nightmares, had Aragorn imagined himself in mortal combat with a people that he took to be his own kin. It was a nightmare indeed, gasped, suffocated by the dense atmosphere of hatred and darkness. He had learned to fight beside Elrond's sons, his brothers, but it had never been like this. Their worst argument could not amount to the rage that ruled the followers of Elimerel. Their blades cut him and their negativity stifled him. He was suddenly one man in a dragon's den.

He slammed suddenly into something hard, his back colliding with the rough bark of a tree.

It was the tree.

The fighting stopped, he was surrounded on all sides, save the hard tree trunk behind him. Aragorn stood ready, his sword clutched tightly in his deadly grip, awaiting the next trial.

The masses parted to reveal the King himself, striding arrogantly towards the center of the ring, towards Aragorn. He stopped. " Bind him."

Suddenly, the crowd came alive as they pounced forward, at least one hundred warriors. Aragorn quickly sheathed his sword and turned to the tree, whispering an Elvin prayer as he reached up to the bark in the same fashion he had observed.

He fingers grazed the camouflaged hold, and he tightened his grip, pulling the full weight of his body up with his arms. He was off the ground and climbing, the second step-

A whistling sound, all too familiar-

Pain exploded in his shoulder as the arrow penetrated his body, rendering his left arm useless. He gritted his teeth in pain as he forced his injured arm to cooperate, reaching still for the next hold.

Their hands were suddenly on him, on his legs, pulling him downward. Aragorn growled in frustration and pain as the tension tore at his wounds. Black splotched clouded his vision as he fought to break free of their hold with strength he no longer had. Finally, they pulled him off of the tree, and the ranger fell hard to the unforgiving ground, landing in a crumpled heap as the bleeding worsened with the now intolerable pain that radiated across his chest and down his entire arm, setting it on fire. Rough, strong hands pulled him to his knees and bound his wrists tightly before him. Aragorn struggled defiantly, but to no avail. There were too many to fight. His eyes remained fixed on the figure before him, an elf as black as Sauron's heart, leading his people astray, poisoning them with thoughts of hatred and conquest. Elimerel had ruined these elves as Saruman had ruined them when he created the orcs. Aragorn could see little difference and his anger only increased.

" Lord Aragorn, it seems you will remain my guest for a short while longer," Elimerel smirked, his voice deep and deliberate. " Take him away, but take care and bind the wounds, he is not to be further injured- yet."

It took five elves to drag him and another two to accompany them in the chance of his escape. Under normal circumstances, Aragorn would have thought these odds favorable, but in his weakened state, he could do little more than bear the agonizing pain that tore through him with every stride. The world was a blur of faces and words as the images streaked by until finally, they arrived at their destination.

Translations

Esta sinome – rest here

Mellonamin – my friend

Uuma dela – Don't worry