5

Rain, it had started sometime during the night and had continued all morning long. It was bleak outside, a dull grey that hung over the sky. Legolas stood at the small window in the darkened room where Aragorn's slept looking out at the rain as it poured down in sheets of silver. He held out his hands and watched the water play over them, the cold drops felt good on his skin.

"Summer rain," said a voice and Legolas jumped.

Hiram was there, a lighted lantern in his hands. Legolas at once withdrew from the window pulling it shut to block out the rain. "What is it?" he asked looking at the farmer questioningly.

"I came to check on the lad."

Legolas watched as the old man examined Aragorn for signs of fever or contagion.

"He is a little warm, but I don't think it's anything to worry over."

"How can you tell from just touching him?" Legolas asked a bit sharply.

"I can tell many things," Hiram replied coolly. "It is a skill like any other."

'I am sorry," Legolas began, feeling ashamed of his suspicions. "It's just that…"

"Your head hurts." Hiram finished for him.

"Yes," Legolas agreed in puzzled amazement. "How do you know?"

"It is written on your body as clearly as parchment. The veins at your temples pulse strongly, your brow furrows unconsciously as you move. Your face is paler than is your wont. Something troubles you." Hiram continued. "Is it the fate of your friend that weighs heavily on you? Or is it your own fate?" As he spoke Hiram had moved toward Legolas, he caressed the elf's cheek with a gnarled hand.

Legolas did not move.

Hiram's hand felt as dry as the desert sand and as old as the mountains. Legolas felt his heart begin to pound as Hiram's thick fingers entangled gently in his hair.

"What is this soldier to you firstborn, beloved of the Valar?" Hiram whispered.

Legolas swayed towards him. "He is my friend…"

He would have said more, but Aragorn turned, groaning a little in his sleep. Legolas gasped as though he had been holding his breath.

"He will be fine," Hiram told him, hand on the elf's shoulder. "I'll see to the day's meals today, stay here with your friend."

Legolas nodded. Hiram left closing the door behind him. Legolas stared at the closed door for a few moments. But Aragorn was stirring and he turned to help him sit up.

000

Weeks passed and their lives fell into a numbing routine. Legolas spent his days, clearing, reaping and seeding various fields, while Aragorn vacillated between watching him and Hiram. The ranger had on many occasions helped the farmer to make the mixture that calmed the worm. In fact he had insisted that he learn how to make it, for it was his intention to find the missing component that would kill the creature and thus free them of this seeming bondage.

But each time he tried to remember how it was done, he could not recall anything. He attempted to commit the entire process to paper but again, key elements floated just out of memory's reach. In frustration he had all but given up. He feared that the fever had robbed him of his ability to remember. More than that, he felt strange. The weakness he had suffered from his first waking moment was a constant companion, dogging his heels as he slipped from day to day in mindless occupation. At first he had tried to help Legolas in the fields, but tired so quickly that his presence soon became superfluous. Thus he had taken it upon himself to cook their meals and clean the house thus easing Legolas of these chores.

Hiram was happy to have him in the house and was pleased to have such assistance, for he was going down in age, he was nigh into his sixtieth year. His hands were gnarled and hurt when it was cold, his knees not much better. He often set the ranger tasks that he could no longer do so well himself. These Aragorn did without a word of protest or question for the ranger did not want these additional responsibilities to fall to Legolas. Many times he was barely able to keep his eyes open when night fell.

One particular evening just after Aragorn had stumbled off to bed Hiram watched the elf bring in wood for the stove and then for the fire. He was covered with a thin sheen of sweat which made his body glow in the orange light of the flames.

"Come in and rest lad, you must be tired."

Legolas gave him a narrowed stare, the kitchen was empty save for the farmer.

"Where is Thorongil?" he asked.

"He wanted to wait for you but he was so tired I thought it best that he sleep."

Legolas looked down the darkened corridor. A deep sadness overcame him, but he was so weary himself that not a single coherent thought would come to him.

"Come," Hiram said. "Eat with me."

And Legolas sat and took up the wooden spoon. Hiram smiled, he liked to engage the elf in conversation.

00

Aragorn trembled and whimpered, caught in a horrific nightmare from which there was no escaping. It was cold, so cold. The wintry winds whipped his naked body mercilessly as he rocked back and forth cradling the fair head of his dying friend. Legolas' lips were blue from the cold and from his ears poured forth deep red blood. Aragorn cried as the wind moaned mournfully across the desolate landscape. What little warmth he once had, had long seeped away. "Help us," he pleaded with the man who stood there watching them with glittering eyes. Uttered from stiffening lips his plea fell on uncaring ears. The man turned and walked away, even as Aragorn reached out a quivering hand to him. Aragorn's sobs grew louder as weakness filled him.

00

Aragorn was listless at breakfast the next morning. He did not feel at all rested and though his belly was empty he was slightly nauseous at the sight of the porridge in his bowl. Hiram noted that the ranger was uncommonly pale and there was a tremor in his hands as he reached for his spoon.

"Do ye feel well lad?" he asked.

"Aye, I do." answered Aragorn.

Hiram frowned, sure that the boy was telling an untruth, yet said nothing more about it.

Legolas seemed oblivious to Aragorn's state. He ate quickly and donning an old cloak that hung from a peg on the wall near the door was ready to begin the day's work. At the doorway he paused, "Thorongil," he said.

Aragorn looked up.

"I could use some help in the north pasture today to bind the grass when you finish washing up. It halves the time with more hands than two to do the work."

Without waiting for a reply he left.

Aragorn stared at the open doorway. Everyday he would carry the luncheon meal out to the field so that they could have some time alone to speak while they ate, but more often than not, the minutes would pass in silence as there seemed to be nothing of importance to say. Nevertheless after his morning chores, Aragorn found himself hurrying across the fields. Legolas was already deep into his labours.

"Help me," Legolas said throwing a thick rope of vine to Aragorn. Together they wrestled two enormous stacks of grass into five neat bundles. Aragorn needed to rest and so they sat on the ground. Legolas looked toward the farmhouse. At last Hiram's shadow was gone from the window.

"Aragorn, listen to me. I want you to leave here now, quickly, head south and do not stop until you come to a village. Purchase a horse and then get to Gondor with all speed."

Taken aback Aragorn just sat there languidly on the ground.

"Aragorn do you hear me?" Legolas said anxiously rising to his knees.

" But what of you?" Aragorn asked, bewildered still.

"I will join you when I can," was Legolas' brusque response. "Quickly now, on your feet."

So saying he rose, pulling Aragorn upright in one swift movement. He shrugged off the old cloak he was wearing and folding it, put it in the ranger's arms.

"I can not leave you." Aragorn cried.

"You must. There is something evil here that seeks to end your life Aragorn. Your wound is fully healed yet you grow weaker daily. You do not sleep, you scarcely eat. You must leave this place." Legolas took four coins secreted in his waist and placed it in Aragorn's hands. He closed them shut over it. "Do not look back and do not stop mellon nin."

"Where did you get this," Aragorn whispered, looking down at the gold coins in his hand.

"It matters not." Legolas said shaking his head. He looked to the farmhouse. Hiram was nowhere to be seen.

"Come with me." Aragorn begged.

"You know that I cannot, by nightfall the pain would be too much to bear. I almost killed you the last time." Legolas stopped to put a skin of water he had hidden in the grass around Aragorn's shoulders.

He stepped back from the ranger, "Now go."

Aragorn took in the elf's dishevelled hair and drawn face. Clothed in worn working clothes and heavy boots he seemed already distant from him. Aragorn stepped forward and embraced him. He was relieved to feel Legolas' arms encircle his waist. A tear rolled down the ranger's face and then another. Legolas pulled back and wiped those tears with dirt stained fingers.

"Do not stop and do not look back," Legolas said brushing those wayward strands back from Aragorn's brow. His eyes roved the ranger's face as though committing every detail to memory.

But Aragorn did not move, he could not.

"If you love me go now Aragorn." Legolas said with shining eyes. "Please."

Aragorn fled, over the grassy fields he ran not stopping or looking back as he had been asked. But he did not need to look. He knew Legolas was standing there alone, watching him, until he disappeared from sight.

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