Disclaimer see Chapter One.

Author's Notes: Some of you perhaps noticed that this update should have come yesterday. Well, I tried for seven hours, but it was impossible to upload any document to FFnet, at least for me. (fumes)

Anyway, thank you once again for all the wonderful reviews! All of you who were logged in or left an e-mail-address should have their review replies by now. Sofia, theo darkstar and ghemstone: I could not reply to you, but your reviews meant a lot to me! ((huggles all reviewers))

The next three chapters will be a bit shorter than usual – the alternative was to make one very long and one very short chapter, and I didn't like that thought. That means that the next chapter is actually the second half of this one, so I'll do my best to update soon (provided that FFnet will let me!). ;-)

This chapter should answer some of your questions. Enjoy, and tell me what you think about it:)

P.S. To all who read the story in the Teitho contest: this chapter has been slightly changed.

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- Wounds -

Chapter Two: Strife

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"A true friend never gets in your way
unless you happen to be going down."
Arnold H. Glasgow

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In that night Aragorn prayed harder than he had ever done before, as he held his friend in his arms, willing him to live, willing the Valar to listen. He checked on Legolas' wounds at regular intervals and took care that the fire kept burning. He did not hear the wind howling like a wild beast outside, nor did he feel the cold. He only listened to every single laboured breath of the elf in his arms, and felt a heart beat weakly under his hand.

"Wake up, my friend," he said softly, watching the pale face for any signs of awareness and seeing none. "Please, wake up for me. It should be me being hurt and not you. I should have listened. I need to tell you… I'm so sorry…" His voice broke.

The elf's condition seemed to have stabilized. It did not worsen any more, but neither did it get better. Aragorn could still feel him struggling, and he knew that the fight was not yet won. He could only wait. He continued speaking softly to his friend, hoping that the elf would feel comforted by his presence in spite of the things that had happened between them and that had caused all the pain and the sorrow and the guilt that were weighing heavily upon his heart now. From time to time the ranger would start to sing, songs that Legolas had enjoyed when they had listened to them in the Hall of Fire.

Aragorn realized then that he could not remember when he had last sung these songs. The last months had been bitter and grim, sapping both his energy and his joy from him. How could he have lost so much and not noticed it was happening? When had he stopped caring? He sighed, looking down at the elf with unveiled guilt in his eyes.

He must not have been too late. There must be a chance to put things right. None of all this had been Legolas' fault, it was not right that he was paying the price in such a way. Aragorn closed his eyes, once more overwhelmed by pain and regret. If you want to punish someone, he spoke silently, then take me. For it must surely be me who has provoked your ire. If the Valar had heard him, they gave no answer.

Hours later, the ranger finally succumbed to the exhaustion of both his body and his mind. His chin sank down to rest on his chest, and he fell into a troubled sleep, plagued by dreams and memories. Man and elf rested in a soft golden circle of light, restless shadows dancing on the walls around them. Outside, the wind fell silent.

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The camp was small, and it was carefully hidden deep in a fir forest. Aragorn watched his rangers quietly, reading the tiredness in their eyes and seeing the lines of exhaustion in their faces. The last weeks had been hard. They had been forced to fight far too often, and they had lost three men. Aragorn bowed his head. The men needed rest, and they missed their fallen comrades, as did he.

He could only hope they would be safe here, at least for a while. He needed to leave and get supplies soon. Aragorn did not want to burden anyone else with this task, now that they could finally get some rest. He had chosen a small rock on the edge of the camp to sit upon, idly twirling a branch between his fingers. There was a soft sound behind him, and he smiled, not bothering to raise his head.

Here was one who would hopefully accompany him when he rode out to buy the needed supplies, someone whose company would be more than welcome and had been invaluable during these last, endless weeks. Legolas stepped quietly to his side, and Aragorn looked up to meet his friend's gaze. What he saw made him frown. The elf had a faraway look on his face, and his head was tilted slightly, as if listening to something. He seemed both tense and concerned, and Aragorn was instantly alarmed.

He dropped the tiny branch and rose to stand beside his friend. "What is it?" he asked.

Legolas blinked, then he turned his head to look at his friend. He seemed to hesitate. Aragorn felt even more alarmed now. His friend never hesitated to speak his mind with him, even when the news was dire indeed. "You worry me, my friend," he said earnestly, watching the elf closely.

The elf's features softened, but remained troubled. "There is need for worry," he said with soft regret in his voice, "though not because of any foe. I could find no traces of the enemy. This camp is safe."

"And yet you seem to be troubled," Aragorn replied, his eyes showing a mixture of relief, confusion, and concern.

Legolas hesitated again. Then he met Aragorn's eyes directly for the first time, and the man knew that his friend had made a decision of some kind. The elf's behaviour filled Aragorn with a strange apprehension that was unusual between them. He began to suspect that he would not like whatever Legolas had to say.

"I have listened to the trees, Estel," the elf said quietly. "Winter will be upon us soon, and it will be long and hard." He looked at the rangers who were sitting around the fire, talking among themselves. "They are weary, and so are you. We cannot stay here."

Aragorn tensed, staring at his friend. Legolas met his gaze, but the man could tell that he did so reluctantly. Slowly, Aragorn forced himself to relax. Legolas was his friend. He would not do this to him. "What do you propose?" he asked, his voice suddenly rough.

To his surprise, he saw insecurity in Legolas' eyes now, but the elf did not avoid his gaze again. "I propose that we go to Imladris," Legolas answered softly.

For a moment, there was a dead silence between them. "I cannot believe you ask this of me," Aragorn spoke finally in a toneless voice. "Tell me you do not mean it. Tell me this is a joke."

There was the same regret in Legolas' face that he had seen there before, but the elf did not back down. "I would never use a joke to hurt you," he said. "You know that."

Aragorn closed his eyes for a moment. Only once had he felt so betrayed before. He had not expected this from Legolas. He had felt safe in their friendship, in the knowledge that things between them had not changed and never would. But now… now his whole world seemed to be collapsing around him once again. If Legolas was able to ask something like that, it meant he did not understand his feelings at all, and perhaps never had.

Memories that the ranger had tried so hard to forget were clamouring for attention once more, hurtful words that had been spoken and never been taken back by one whom he had trusted as a father. Before he could help it, his thoughts strayed to Arwen, her face, her smile and the tenderness in her eyes. Thinking of her was nearly more than his heart could take. He had avoided it even more than thinking of Elrond. Falling in love had not brought him happiness, but only pain and loss.

He barely resisted the sudden urge to either close his eyes or flee, run from both his memories and the friend who had unexpectedly turned on him. Aragorn felt bitter and worn out. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing more to say. Right now, the only thing he wanted was to be alone. "I will not go to Imladris," he said simply, and there was something unmistakably final in his voice.

Legolas ignored it. He lay a hand on the man's shoulder, keeping him in place. "Estel-" he began.

"Do not call me thus," Aragorn interrupted brusquely. "I am not Estel any longer, though you do not seem to be able to understand that!"

Legolas was silent for a moment. "Aragorn, then," he conceded with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Neither they nor you will last through the winter. And you know it!"

Aragorn's jaw muscles tensed. "That is none of your business," he replied coldly. "My decision stands. If you prefer to leave, you are free to do so."

Legolas blinked, and this time he could not hide the hurt in his eyes. "Do you want to die?" he asked softly, disbelievingly.

Aragorn took a step back, shaking off the elf's hand, which still rested on his shoulder. Legolas let his arm drop to his side, making no attempt to hold his friend back. "It is my life, and I alone choose what to do with it!" he answered angrily, not even noticing that he had raised his voice enough to be heard by the men who sat nearby.

Legolas closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment, and when he looked up again, Aragorn could see that he was shaken, though he tried hard to hide it. At this moment, the man was beyond caring. He only wished the elf would be shaken enough to finally let him go and grant him some peace.

"I cannot deny you this right. But you are not responsible for your life alone." The elf's voice was firm, but his eyes were pleading now.

Aragorn stared at him, for the second time that day not able to believe what he had heard. "If you are not able to trust my leadership I really wonder why you are here at all. I believed you to be my friend… but it seems I was mistaken. I trusted you with my fears and my heart, and you have betrayed me. I have told you why I will not – why I can not – go back, and yet you insist on re-opening wounds that I wanted to forget."

Seeing that the elf's lips were parted as if he wanted to say something, Aragorn shook his head. "No. I do not want to hear anything from you. Not now. You have said enough." Aragorn turned to leave, but a hand on his arm held him back. He jerked his arm out of Legolas' grip and turned back to face the elf.

"Aragorn, I did not want to-" Legolas began before Aragorn had a chance to speak, and stopped himself. "If you do not want to go to Imladris, you will always be welcome in Mirkwood," he said instead.

The elf's voice was not steady, and what he could read in Legolas' face made Aragorn pause for a moment. Legolas looked as if something had broken inside of him, and there was pain in his eyes. For a moment, Aragorn's resolve wavered. But then a new wave of anger and bitterness welled up inside of him, and nothing existed but his own painful memories and hurt feelings.

"I will not crawl back to Imladris and I will not live on the charity of an elven king. You will undoubtedly be welcome in both places, elf. As I said, you are free to go whenever you wish to. In fact, I think it would be better if you did." With these words, he turned again, and this time Legolas did not try to hold him back.

Aragorn headed straight for his horse, calling for Halbarad to join him. He remembered the short moment that now seemed an endless time ago when he had still taken it for granted that Legolas would accompany him on the ride. The thought stung, and he shoved it aside. Only when he had hoisted himself on the back of his horse and was ready to leave did he notice that Halbarad still had not joined him.

Looking back for the first time, he saw that Halbarad had not even moved. Following the man's gaze, Aragorn saw that it rested on Legolas. The elf still stood where he had left him, completely motionless. His head was bowed, hiding whatever emotions might be seen on his face and in his eyes. Aragorn turned away. He did not want to care what Legolas felt or did not feel. He only wanted some distance between him and the elf and the hurtful memories that his words had conjured up.

The curious and confused looks on the faces of his men told him that they must have heard at least part of his argument with Legolas. Aragorn could not help that now. "Halbarad?" he called again.

Halbarad looked at him, but there was a frown on his face, and he seemed to be undecided. "I want to leave today," Aragorn added coldly.

His second-in-command cast a last glance at Legolas, then he went over to his horse. Only minutes later they rode out of the camp, and Aragorn never looked back.

To be continued…

I'll just give you some time for reading and reviewing before I post the next update. Until then,

take care,

Tinu :)