All right guys. Here's the FIXED version. Lol. Sorry, I was using a mac last time and let's just say it didn't work overly well…I forgot all those codes I used to know! Stupid me.

Legolas stared at the closed door with a horrified expression on his pale face. He closed his eyes as the pain enveloped him, cutting off his air with it's intensity. The cuts burned with a fire that was indescribable. He clenched his eyes shut and moaned. He clung desperately to the fact hope that any second Aragorn would walk in and tell him that it had all been some sort of joke. The seconds ticked by, each one brining increased pain to the elf that lay curled up on the damp floor of the room. Each one severing another fragile string in the rope of hope Legolas had painstakingly weaved.

An hour passed.

Then two.

And Aragorn still did not come; each minute Legolas' eyes darted to the door, hoping that just maybe that each sound of approaching footsteps was his best friend. That the human would open the door and magically remove the brand from his stomach and heal his hurts. He clung desperately to that thought as the darkness tried to consume him.

Another hour went by, and Legolas realized that he was losing blood. As the pain decreased he was able to move over to the corner of the room where his tunic lay.

Carefully he wrapped his shoulder and dabbed the numerous cuts. But he did all this half-heartedly. He carefully leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, Aragorn wasn't coming. It hit him like a ton, nay, five tons of bricks. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled to breath, a rough, choking sob escaped his lips. But no, he wouldn't cry. Not now. He needed to be strong, maybe the human was busy...maybe he WOULD come... Or maybe he wouldn't. Legolas couldn't help it, he didn't want to resist the darkness any longer, he wanted to slip into oblivion and never move again. He closed his eyes and leaned fully against the wall, willing the pain to end.

Willing the darkness to take him. "Navaer, navaer mellon nin. Im melin..." he broke off as the darkness welcomed him into its sound embrace.

---&---

"You have a better thing?" Randir asked in near disbelief, his voice bordering on sarcasm. He wasn't trying to be rude, but he was extremely worried about his prince.

Morwen seemed to understand this, for she let the sarcasm slide. "Yes, I have an army of elves. Right here at our disposal. The question is only how to alert them. We must plan, Randir. And we must plan carefully, for if we fail we condemn ourselves and many of the elves inside that building to death," she spoke calmly. Morwen had never been one to sugar coat things, it had seemed to her a useless habit, why lie to people when you can tell them the truth?

"We shall plan then, and we shan't fail. No immortal lives shall be lost in this venture," Randir said vehemently. Morwen smiled and they sat down, unaware of the world around them as they planned the best way to save those whom they held most dear in their hearts. When it was done Randir stood up and looked at the sky.

His voice was grim as he watched the red moon begin it's assent. "A red moon rises Morwen," he said softly.

"Aye, blood will be spilt on the morrow," she agreed her green eyes darkening a shade.

"The question remains, whose blood?"

---&---

Up, down, up down.

The words chanted through Elladan's head as he worked. He kept his face in a forced calm. He knew he was not the only one on edge and he couldn't just override the fears he knew Glorfindel and Lamaeneth to have. Aragorn and Legolas had still not returned, and Elladan began to fear the consequence of letting the elf go alone. He had let his cowardice override his loyalty, and his brother and friend were suffering for it.

Silently he lifted another brick and turned around to put it with the others, only something stopped him. A familiar figure walking towards the place where he stood. "Estel..." he breathed in relief. Without hesitation he moved closer to his brother.

"Get back to work, slave," the harsh words were spoken in an icy tone and Elladan stopped in his tracks.

"Tithen muindor, it is me, please," he said quietly, "let me make sure you are all right!" he moved forward until he was standing in front of his brother.

"I -said- get back to work, slave!" Aragorn repeated his eyes cold.

"Estel-" Elladan began, but he didn't finish, he was cut off by a resounding slap. The room went silent all eyes turned to the two.

"Traitor!" someone jeered.

"Gwarth!" another cried.

"Dirum!" another taunted.

"Be silent!" Glorfindel said in elvish, his blue eyes locked on the siblings. The elves in the hall quieted, none dared challenge Glorfindel.

"Estel..." Elladan breathed his eyes filled with hurt.

Aragorn didn't flinch. "Get back to work. Or Leafie shall suffer for your stupidity!" the man snapped. Elladan stared horrified at his brother, another sharp slap woke him up and he spun on his heel and walked away, straight towards Glorfindel. The elder elf put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hush, he did not mean it…"

"You did not see his eyes, they were dark, he hated me when he spoke," Elladan murmured.

"Oh tithen pen," Glorfindel whispered. Garo estel ned hon..."

"Muindor nin...Elrohir...where are you?" Elladan said softly. Glorfindel tightened his grip on the elf's shoulder and turned to Lamaeneth.

"Take him to the healing wing; make some malady up if you have to."

"Yes my lord."

"And Lamaeneth?"

"Yes my lord?"

"Do not leave him alone."

"Of course my lord." She took Elladan by the arm and pulled him so that he was leaning against her. Together they made their way to the healing wing. "This slave needs my immediate treatment," she told the man in charge.

"What is wrong?" the healer asked her, "he looks well enough to me!"

"And elvish malady, he will die within hours. And Lord Godéad does not like to lose slaves, if you don't mind my saying so."

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "aye, he hates losing slaves. Very well, treat him in the back room; we don't need no elvish malady killing the stock!"

Lamaeneth bristled at the way he referred to the elves as though they were cargo but she willingly enough brought Elladan into the back room. She sat him in the bed and forced him to lie down. "Oltho vae hir nin," she whispered.

Elladan had anything but sweet dreams. As she sat next the bed, preparing a sleeping potion and singing quietly in elvish she noticed Elladan begin to stir.

"Elrohir...muindor...muindor...saes, goheno nin!" Elladan murmured. Lamaeneth leaned over him and spoke softly. "Elladan, awake, it is only a dream." The elf opened his eyes and peered up at the woman.

"I fear for you..." he said dreamily, his eyes locked on the woman's face. "Guard your life!"

"Hir nin?"

"Lamaeneth!" he said, sitting up in surprise and nearly knocking her in the face with his forehead.

"Yes, it is I. All is well..."

"Was it a dream? Is my brother all right?"

"Yes, Elladan, Elrohir is well."

"I meant Estel...that was a dream, wasn't it?" his eyes begged her to tell him that it had been a dream. Lamaeneth moved her eyes away from his accusing gaze.

"Nay Elladan, it was no dream,' she said softly. Elladan shook his head and let himself drop back onto the pillows.

---&---

The door opened and Legolas lifted his head, looking hopefully at the man who entered. "Estel..." he whispered.

"Nay, I am sorry elf, I truly am," Naerdor said quietly, gently touching the elf's cheek.

Legolas leaned back. "It is well then," he murmured, sinking back into darkness. "It is well..."

So there you have it, one completed...EDITED chapter. Sixteen'll be up by Tuesday...