Author's Note:

Hello! Sorry this took so long. A huge thanks to my most recent reviewers: lindhoyland, IWantMore, QueenFlarmphgal and of course Viggomaniac!I am so excited to use the new "reply" feature on the review page! What a great idea...Well, thenext chapter (ten)is almost finished. I'll try and post sooner, it seems that reviews really help motivate me to update so please feel free to let me know what you think of the story (hinthint :) )

Good luck to all of you who are gearing up for final exams. Wowzer!

-Athena

Nine

They had been traveling for what seemed like endless days, but which in fact amount to only three hours, before finally resolving to make camp and rest their weary horses. The reunion had been short and rushed, and only now did the company find time to evaluate their current condition. Behind them, the air remained heavy with smoke and ash, a choking reminder of the fate of a once great nation. They had made haste in their departure from the cursed Firien wood and now resolved to stop for a space and reevaluate their plan of action.

Elladan was the first to dismount, helping his twin to follow. Elrohir hissed in pain as his tender and injured leg made contact with the ground. They had shared Elladan's mare. Legolas too dismounted, albeit with some difficulty, and helped Aragorn to the ground from his shared seat on the elf's stallion. No one seemed to notice the way his weight rested heavily on the horse when he stood on his feet. Even Aragorn did not seem to notice; he had been silent after their initial reunion.

Owen, the ranger, was the last to step firmly on the leaf strewn ground, gathering the reins in his hands before gently stroking his horse's mane in appreciation for the hard ride she had endured at his expense

For his part, Aragorn was lost in many senses of the word. His mind was muddled and fuzzy, unable to get past the constant haze of intense pain that had settled there. The strange sensation of the mark left him oddly weak and dumbfounded. It seemed to suppress all other sensation and grew steadily worse. But it had not beaten him…yet. He drew in a deep breath, biting back the nausea he felt having dismounted from the horse with much discomfort. It was then that he felt eyes resting heavily upon him. He gripped the horse's saddle as though for dear life and used it to anchor him back into reality, opening his eyes to meet familiar ones. "Elladan… thank the Valar you are safe… How did you manage to find us?" Aragorn managed breathlessly, as his brother came towards him to lay a hand gently over his own.

"I was delayed on the way to Lothlorien. By the time I reached Mirkwood, I learned of Elrohir's absence and that you and Legolas had gone in search of him. I have been tracking the two of you since and stumbled upon Elrohir just before Master Owen appeared, coming to our aid."

At the mention of his name, the strange ranger turned his attention from his horse to the group, nodding as though ever at their service.

Elladan continued, while helping Aragorn to the ground beside a large oak tree, mindful of his injuries and especially of his back. The tunic he wore concealed the angry and unusual mark and so it remained unknown to them. "Though", he said as he glanced warily at their new companion, "in all my dealings with the Dunedain, I have never heard of a ranger from the north by the name of Owen. And your face does not seem familiar to me."

"I am certain that we have never met either, and I am a chieftain among my people." Aragorn concurred, from his place beside the tree. He forced his mind and body to function, to work past the pain. "By the looks of you, I would guess you are from the south."

"Aye, I may not be known to you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, but you are known to me, as are the twin sons of Elrond and the famed prince of Mirkwood. I am but a humble ranger, and new to my profession. Long have I traveled these lands and yes, parts more southern, as a trapper and a scout's man, but only recently have I discovered the blood in my veins and the responsibility it requires of me. I am friend to Gandalf the Grey and to any who would serve him."

"And just how, good ranger, did you happen to travel through this forsaken wood with its forgotten peoples? Random chance?" Elladan fired back, making no attempt to mask the distrust in his voice. Elrohir winced at the sharpness of his tone.

"Peace Elladan," he began, puzzled by his brother's blatant hostility towards the stranger.

Legolas, swaying slightly on his feet, interjected. "He was tracking us, Elladan and I felt his presence long before he chose to make himself known. The question is why."

Owen seemed undisturbed by their accusatory stares and suspicions. He continued to clear a spot for the fire, a few feet away from Aragorn, pausing only momentarily to reply. "I was summoned by Gandalf to the House of Elrond, and when I… learned of his disappearance, I resolved to follow and observe at a safe distance." He fell silent. "That is all I can tell you at this time. I must ask you to trust that I am a friend to the wizard and wish no ill upon him. We should make a fire, for the night will be cold and very dark especially this close to the cursed wood."

Legolas began to speak and then stopped abruptly, his comments forgotten as he suddenly felt the world tilt around him. Without the adrenaline to sustain him and the herbs to fool his body into believing it was well, he felt his strength rapidly waning. A sigh escaped him as his legs gave out, forcing him to his knees. He stayed like that, hands laid flat on the brown grass and dirt, head bent, lungs heaving until a strong hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Legolas!" Elrohir cried, barely managing to limp towards the prince in time to collapse with him to the forest floor. "What is wrong? What has happened?" Elladan was also at his side, his eyes darting between Elrohir's nervous glare and Owen's inquisitive gaze.

"Alas!... he has been poisoned," Aragorn gasped, inwardly chastising himself for not addressing it sooner. "I suspect that it is Kanine, but I cannot be positive. Owen, have you any Greencurrent and Arguil root? When mixed, I believe if administered early enough they will counteract the poison. I gave him what herbs I had, but I fear it only masked what havoc the poison is wreaking on his body." Aragorn explained, his voice raspy and rough with sorrow.

"Yes I have them, I am sure of it." The ranger of the south abandoned his task and went immediately to his saddlebags. In the meantime, Elrohir and Elladan helped Legolas to lie down.

"How do you fare?" Elrohir's soft voice penetrated the foggy haze that seemed to blanket the younger elf's senses.

"I…I feel very dizzy… almost airborne. And my …eyes are so..heavy…just.." Legolas tossed slightly, as though fighting hard to stave the weariness which crashed down upon him like waves on the shore. Wave after wave seemed to assault his being, destroying the dam that had kept them at bay, dragging him down beneath freezing waters, preventing him from even breathing. He wheezed, his lungs unable to draw in and expel air as efficiently as they had only hours ago.

"Easy Legolas, you will feel better soon. Fight this!" Elrohir soothed, stroking the elf's glistening brow. How could the elf be deteriorating so rapidly? Why had he not noticed sooner? Had he been too preoccupied with his own pain to notice the way Legolas had stumbled during battle? Surely he had seen the way the elf had closed his eyes while riding during their escape. And suddenly he was outraged, not at his dear friend who lay struggling beside him, but at the wry humor that the Valar seemed to possess. "We have not faced a twisted elf king, battled a massive army and then escaped a burning wood just to have you succumb to some dried leaves mixed into your soup! I will not stand for it!"

"With…due respect…my dear Elrohir…these leaves…are more troublesome…than you may think…" Legolas slurred, fighting to focus.

Aragorn lay prone on the ground, his head resting on his up bent forearm as he tried to relieve the pressure from his back. He cocked his head up, observing Owen as the younger man bent over the now blazing fire as they rushed to concoct the necessary remedy. "That's right, now pour it just so. Make sure that it is ground to a fine dust before the two are mixed. Excellent." Aragorn instructed as Owen warmed the mixture over the flame. His head once again fell to his forearm as he mustered the strength he would need to endure the steadily increasing agony that threatened his sanity. Keep it together, you must help Legolas. Iluvatar help me to keep it together…

To say that Aragorn was weary would be an understatement. Pain seemed a constant companion now, relentless in its presence and steadily rising in its intensity. He banished it from his mind as best he could, determined not to let it distract him in Legolas' hour of need. The potent tincture was Legolas' only hope, but there would be a price. It would indeed shock his system and most likely make him violently ill, something the elf had never experienced. If he lasted the night, the ill effects would subside and Legolas would surely recover. If not, the combination of remedy and poison could become lethal, causing excruciatingly painful spasms leading to paralysis and ultimately slow death, probably due to asphyxiation. Aragorn had not the heart to tell this to his brothers, let alone Legolas himself.

Owen's words broke him from his dismal reverie. "I only hope that we are not too late," the strange ranger spoke, his words conveying deep sincerity. "I know little of herb lore, but I do know of Kanine poison and its effects on elves. If not treated within three days of their exposure, there is little hope. It clouds the head and paralyzes the body until the lungs can no longer function and the afflicted is lost in a hazy sleep, never to rise. The remedy itself is toxic, a necessity in that the body must be shocked into fighting the Kanine if the afflicted is to have a chance at survival."

Aragorn's eyes did not leave the fire. "I know of the poison and the danger in its remedy. I know of the battle he will face this night." His tone was grave, low with regret. Aragorn straightened a bit, supporting his upper body on his elbows in order to face Owen more squarely. "He is strong, Master Ranger. The prince of Mirkwood is one of the strongest elves I know. He has seen much worse odds and I do not expect him to succumb now." He replied with confidence. "Now, please, take the vial to Elrohir…quickly." You must, for I can barely move without cringing…Iluvatar have mercy…

Owen nodded curtly and immediately rose, making his way to where Elrond's sons worked to comfort the prince. He knelt now, carefully stirring the thick liquid. "Elrohir, please help him to sit up," he directed. "Prince Legolas, I must ask your help in this. As Aragorn has directed, you must swallow the medicine in its entirety. It is very bitter, but you must do this."

Legolas gasped weakly, blinking sluggishly as he fought to pay attention. He was slowly losing control of his limbs, this he knew. On the verge of panic, he ground out his reply, "I…will….try." He rested against Elrohir's supportive chest as Elladan helped position his head. Owen spooned out the concoction and carefully fed it to the fallen prince.

Legolas tried his best to comply, nearly inhaling the medicine at times. "Slowly. That's it Legolas, one more." Elrohir coaxed, as though persuading a child to eat his vegetables. He sighed in relief when Legolas managed to swallow the last of the remedy.

"Now what?" Elladan pressed.

Aragorn's voice was muffled, as his brow rested firmly on his forearms once again. "We must wait… I think we are not too late, the paralysis had not yet reached his throat and he was able to take it down…Now we must let the medicine do its work. He will have a difficult night, all we can do is keep him comfortable." It was obvious speaking took great effort as his breaths came in labored gasps.

Elrohir's gaze fell immediately on his younger brother, fear gripping his heart. This was very uncharacteristic of the death-defying, danger-dodging ranger. For Aragorn to be debilitated to the point of incapacitation had to mean that he was in far more danger that the elf had originally realized. What have we missed?

Almost as though reading his thoughts, Legolas' weaking grasp on his hand brought his attention to the elf prince in his arms. Legolas moved his lips to speak, but could not immediately vocalize the words as the drug began to take affect. "…Estel…" he rasped, his voice barley audible. He pulled Elrohir closer. "…his back…El..ro..hir…his…back…" he whispered just as the darkness overcame him.

"Right, then let's get him settled by the fire." Elladan, having not heard the prince's strained words, motioned towards the fire where Aragorn was laying, unmoving. The horses were secured to a nearby tree. Elladan gently took Legolas' now senseless form from his brother's embrace and began to rise when Elrohir pulled gently on his sleeve.

"Elladan, I fear for Estel. He suffers."

Elladan looked to his youngest brother and then back at Elrohir. He nodded, as though validating Elrohir's concern. "I will see to him as soon as I take Legolas to the fire," he replied, continuing to rise. He walked to the fire and laid the elf prince down on a newly spread bed roll, covering him with his own cloak, before turning to Aragorn. Elrohir, with great effort and the support of Owen's sturdy arm, managed to drag himself to the fire as well, and now, unable to move any further, set to the task of watching over Legolas as Elladan began to examine their younger brother.

"I will go in search of more wood and game for our supper. I shall return shortly." The young ranger of the south announced, seizing his bow before turning towards the dark and shadowy woods. Neither of the elves protested, each fairly occupied with their fallen companions.

Elladan knelt beside Aragorn, his hands hovering over the trembling form. He could see the dark crimson seeping through the shredded and tattered garments that still hung from the human. With nimble and gentle hands, he peeled back the material, eyes narrowed in concentration as he took in the damage before him.

Aragorn's back was raw and decorated with many angry lash wounds. But most obvious was the hideous markings between his shoulder blades -- markings carved into flesh and made red with still seeping blood. Elladan felt vaguely aware of having seen markings of this type before. He did not speak, he simply examined his badly injured brother with his eyes and hands.

Aragorn shuddered, biting down hard on his lip, eyes clenched tightly shut.

From his place by Legolas, Elrohir strained to see what Elladan was so intently examining, though the shadows cast by the dancing flames hindered his view. "What is it brother? Why does he trembled so?"

Elladan hesitated before responding. "He received a severe lashing which has been aggravated by ill treatment and beatings. I have an ointment that will numb the area and relieve his pain at least for now." He replied, pulling the small, black vial from a concealed pouch on his belt. Elladan uncorked the small container and tipped a small amount of the contents onto the markings. The reaction was immediate. Aragorn gasped, barely stifling the cry of pain that rose to his lips. Elladan did not hesitate any longer, placing both of his hands on the wound and smoothing the mixture into it, mingling the black and thick substance with the chieftain's blood.

Aragorn felt hot tears trail down his cheeks. The pain was so intense, so maddening and then --- it was suddenly gone. He felt the tension in his body release as the painful sensation gently lessened to a dull ache until the feeling of his brother's massaging hands felt comforting. It felt so good, so so good. He breathed in deeply, inwardly praising the Valar for their mercy. "Elladan…" he breathed, "thank you, brother." His forehead still resting on his arms, Aragorn closed his eyes in relief.

The elf simply smiled, moving to clean his hands with some of the remaining water in his skin. "You will feel better soon, Estel. I will dress it now to prevent infection."

Elrohir heard the exchange and was satisfied. He glanced at Legolas beside him and released his own sigh of relief. Perhaps things were looking up after all.

Hours passed.

It was late into the night, now. Owen had returned sometime ago, with two rabbits and an armload of wood. They had eaten as much as they could before falling into silence as they waited for the dawn, and for Legolas to awaken. Owen had tried to stay awake, but Elrohir could see how his head nodded forward every now and again as, being mortal, he could not fight the seduction of sleep for long.

The forest seemed devoid of all nightlife, not a sound broke the heavy atmosphere nor did the winds rustle a single leaf. The forest was in mourning. Elrohir could feel it. The fire had done much damage. It was cold regardless, even to an elf. As though death itself roamed these woods.

Aragorn rested against a tree, dozing peacefully in what appeared to be a healing sleep. His wounds had been dressed and cleaned and the weariness he felt had finally overcome him. The worst of his injuries, at least according to Elladan, were the wounds sustained on his back. They were raw and deep, leaving the ranger weak and weary. These wounds combined with the others he had sustained in their attempt to flee Lamias had taken their toll on the human. The evil elves had at least dressed the arrow wounds well, of that Elrohir was thankful. Elladan had taken great care in dressing the potentially infected wounds marring his back.

Elladan had not told them of the strange markings he had found between the ranger's shoulders.

Elrohir gently massaged his healing leg, now tightly wrapped and splinted. He fought back the feeling of sorrow and anger which welled within him. Elimerel was dead, Estel and Legolas would recover, now they had to focus on the task at hand, finding Mithrandir.

His own leg was feeling marginally better after Owen had helped to properly splint it. He rested now beside Elladan as together they kept watch while the others slept.

Elladan's rough voice pulled him from his reverie. "Elrohir, I do not trust this strange ranger." Elrohir waited for him to explain. "Do you think it mere coincidence that he arrives at the darkest hour, when we are in most dire need? Is it coincidence that he has in his possession the two rare roots Estel needed to make the tincture? And that he has only recently become a ranger so that none of us, including Estel, have ever heard of him or known him? I do not like this, he knows too much and it concerns me."

"It is indeed unlikely to be coincidence. Still..." he paused, wrapping his cloak more tightly about him. "I cannot help but feel that he is telling the truth and that he is sincere in his concern for Mithrandir."

Elladan snorted in disapproval. " You are sometimes too trusting for your own good, Elrohir."

"Since when have you become so irritable?" Elrohir retorted, puzzled by his brother's agitated body language.

"Since my brothers and my best friend nearly died tonight," he snapped back, then seemed to regret the acidic tone. "Forgive me, it has been a long night and I am not at ease with all that has and is happening. Mithrandir's absence does not sit well with me. Maybe we should go to the ring and make sure that it is safe."

"What? Have you lost your senses Elladan? That is the last thing we shall do!"

"Are you certain it is safe where it is?" Elladan shot back defensively.

"You know as well as I do that the ring is too dangerous to touch without Mithrandir's counsel and that we are not to speak aloud of its current state of being."

"Argh!"

The conversation abruptly ended as both pairs of eyes turned to the source of the anguished cry. To Elrohir's dismay, Legolas began to thrash wildly beneath the cloak, his arms wrapping around his abdomen, knees curling towards his chest. Elrohir and Elladan were by his side in a moment. The younger elf trembled as his muscles spasmed, as though truly at battle with the oppressive poison which threatened to paralyze them for good. His breaths came in short, painful gasps as a sharp, stabbing pain erupted once more down the entirety of his torso. The prince moaned again, this time waking both Aragorn and Owen.

Elrohir tried to comfort the prince as best he could, placing a firm hand on the prince's shoulder. He turned his concern immediately to Aragorn. "Amin dele ten' ho. This cannot be normal!"

Estel shook his head sadly. "I am afraid it is, this will be a difficult night." Legolas cringed again, tears streaming down his cheek from eyes clenched shut. " We are here with you Legolas, you are not alone." Aragorn whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he brushed stray strands of hair from his friend's face.

"I…am trying…" Legolas ground out, his arms clenched tightly about him, the trembling increasing. " Valar, it hurts," he breathed.

"Come on, Legolas. Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa, you must overcome this!" Elrohir encouraged, rubbing circles on the fair elf's back. As if in response the elf's chest spasmed again and he gasped.

Legolas himself was terrified. He had never experienced anything like this before and it frightened him. It was as though he were a prisoner in his body. At the least the poison was not excruciatingly painful. He felt odd, suddenly nauseous, and without warning managed to push himself to a sitting position, batting away the hands that tried to help but seemed to only hinder him. "…Saes!.." he gasped, pushing himself to stumbled past them, half crawling towards a group of bushes off to the edge of their camp before collapsing to his hands and knees. The painful spasms increased and he could not control the retching agony that would ensue.

The four exchanged looks of pity and concern as they hesitated, then slowly followed. Elrohir caught hold of Estel's sleeve, his eyes pleading for an explanation.

"It is a good sign, Elrohir. His system is cleansing itself, I think he will be all right in a few hours," Estel explained tiredly. More nagging than exhaustion and even than concern was the guilt he felt for being the cause of his best friend's torment. The healer in him knew it to be unavoidable, but the man struggled to reconcile his actions with his emotions. All he could do now was be supportive as Legolas struggled through this ordeal. He stood unsteadily, his back still pleasantly numb from what Elladan had given him, and walked to Legolas, sinking to his knees beside him, holding his hair as the elf suffered in silence. Elrohir did not follow for the moment. Being an elf, he had never experienced illness or any of the accompanying symptoms. This was an experience that only Estel could empathize with and he, for the moment, could not intrude. Sighing in frustration, he tucked a few stray strands of hair behind his ear before limping towards the fire, meaning to create a warm compress to perhaps ease Legolas' pain.

"I'll fetch some water, he will need it once he is settled once more to replenish what he has lost." Owen volunteered. Elladan eyed him suspiciously.

"I will go with him. Our supply runs dangerously low and this is no night for anyone of us to go alone in the wilderness." He volunteered, rising from his place beside Elrohir. He locked his eyes on Owen and the two, for a moment, were frozen in a battle of wills. The ranger's golden eyes bore deeply into the Elrondion's brown ones. Finally he relented with a curt nod, turning to ready his horse.

"Elladan, are you sure it is wise to split up right now? Dawn is but hours away." Elrohir protested, puzzled by his brothers strange actions and just a bit worried that Elladan's assumptions about the shifty ranger might come to be true.

"Legolas needs the water now Elrohir, and there is naught in our skins to suffice. We will return shortly," he replied, also heading for his horse.

Elrohir did not like it, but what choice did they have? He watched in silence as the two rode off, disappearing into the darkness beyond the soft glow of their campfire's light.

tbc...maybe I should try a cliffhanger and see how you guys like that! Until next time...;)