A/N: Many thanks to all the wonderful reviews. I cherish them and safe them all. :o)

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Chapter 5: Fight or Flight?

With Aragorn thus injured, it would be even harder to reach the ford. They would have to go hunting and find suitable resting places, which cost time and energy. The rainstorm of the previous night had supplied them with enough water to last for a day or two, if they were careful, but after that…

Halbarad had seen it necessary to wake Aragorn and then clean and wrap the wound once more. He believed Aragorn when he told him to not have felt the torn stitches, but that did nothing to calm his nerves.

When night descended once more the two of them left their shelter and headed south-east, towards the Hoarwell River and the ranger outpost. The landscape they would have to cross was dotted with more small woods, but also with some patches of rocky ground that would be difficult to traverse at night. Once they reached these rock formations, they would have no other option than to move during the day. To cross them at night would be suicidal.

The rain had made the ground muddy and slippery, and it had taken the two rangers many hours to leave the cluster of trees behind and make their way across the open plains. The hills were hard to ascend and they more slide them down than actually descended them.

The day passed uneventful. They used the long grass as cover, hushed from tree to tree, boulder to hill, always one eye at their surroundings and the way they had come. Both of them wondered whether there was really someone following them, for they had neither seen nor heard anything. But, one of the rules of the rangers was to be better safe than sorry, and as long as they could not be sure that they were indeed out alone here, they would keep up with their secrecy.

They had to stop more than once during the night so that Aragorn could rest. His broken ribs were giving him trouble; his breathing was laboured and sometimes hitched, which caused his sides to hurt and his chest and stomach muscles to cramp. That in return did nothing to help the healing of the stab wound, and when they stopped to rest for the day, the bandage Halbarad had applied in the morning was soaked with sweat and blood.

Sighing in frustration, Halbarad pressed a folded piece of cloth, which he had ripped from his cloak, against Aragorn's wound. They had hidden under an overhang in a low earthen cliff wall. It was relatively dry but if it rained during the day they would be forced to leave the shelter, as the earthen walls looked unstable. But for now, it would do.

The cloth soaked through quickly and Halbarad pressed another piece against the wound to stop the blood flow. Aragorn looked pale and tired; shadows lingered under his eyes and the dark stubble on his chin stood out starkly against the pale skin. Mud and grime coated his hands and clothing, but with a rueful shake of his head Halbarad admitted silently that he probably looked no better.

"Strider, does it hurt much? If yes, then I could go looking for some herbs that have survived the hailstorm." Halbarad asked while he wrapped the wound with strips of cloth. Soon, there would be nothing left of his cloak.

"It hurts, but it is bearable." Aragorn pulled his tunic down and then tightened his cloak around his shoulders to staff off the cold air. He had felt warm while moving, but now, sitting on the cold ground, his muscles became stiff and hard rather quickly, and he felt chilled.

"There is no need to be in pain if there is a remedy for it, Strider. The sun has not fully risen, there is still time." Halbarad looked at the sky, and with a determined nod he rose to his feet. "I will see what I can find."

And before Aragorn could say something to hold him back, he vanished in the twilight, his tall form retreating quickly. Aragorn had half a mind to call him back, but then he shivered and held his tongue. Truth be told, he was in pain.

Of course, being a ranger he was no stranger to pain and suffering, it was part of his everyday life. But the stab wound truly hurt and all the walking and hiding jostled his broken ribs. He longed for a good night's rest and some decent food. A warm fire maybe and dry clothes, a pipe with Longbottom Leaf, perhaps a song…

With a startled sensation in his stomach Aragorn jerked his head up, only now noticing that he had nearly fallen asleep without him noticing. He sat up with a wince, pressing one hand against his wound to support it, before he moved into a very uncomfortable position. A sharp stone dug into his back and he leaned against it, hoping that the discomfort would keep him awake at least until Halbarad was back.

Valar, he had not even felt how tired he was. And, it was he who had slept most during the day, with Halbarad keeping watch. It would not do to sleep now and therewith force his friend to stay awake. Again. Halbarad needed his sleep as well. Both of them could go without sleep for some days, but not under these conditions.

With tired eyes Aragorn watched how the sky slowly turned brighter as the sun woke from its slumber. The dark grey turned into a glowing red and then orange, but the colours were hidden behind thin clouds. With a bit of luck it would stay dry.

Aragorn shuddered when a bout of wind sneaked under his cloak and he breathed in deeply to keep him awake. His legs felt like lead, the muscles stiff and unyielding, and he worried that should a threat arise, he would not be able to defend himself and Halbarad properly. Halbarad…should he not be back by now?

Aragorn sat up straighter, for a moment forgetting his sleepiness. His friend was gone for a rather long time by now and even with the rising sun he could not see him. The grass swayed lightly from left to right, now and then bending under the force of a sudden gale, but Halbarad should be visible to his trained eyes in this light.

For long minutes Aragorn stared out into the morning twilight. Without his conscious thought his hand found its way to the hilt of his sword that still rested at his side. The winter birds greeted the rising sun with much twittering and songs, but Aragorn tuned the sounds out and concentrated on the things he did not hear.

There were no footsteps coming his way, no breathing that would give away his friend's position. No rustling of cloth or the unmistakeable creaking of leather. Surely Halbarad would not go far; not out of shouting distance anyway. For a moment more Aragorn waited, his body tensing involuntarily.

The sun had almost completely risen and the shadows were receding. Where was Halbarad? Aragorn knew that his friend could take care of himself, but that did not mean that he was not worried! Just as he was about to get to his feet and search for him, Aragorn caught movement in the grass.

With a quick move he loosened his sword in its scabbard, making sure that it would glide out easily should he need it. Crouching low, he stared at the moving blades of grass; he could see that someone or something made its way over to his position. He had not forgotten that he had nearly stumbled upon a warg the day before, and so he listened to all the sounds that could give away the approaching being.

He almost sighed in relief when he heard Halbarad's unique footsteps. His friend had a tendency to tread lightly, but with a definitive swing to it, nearly a little jump. It gave him away every time during their training, but right now Aragorn was glad to hear it.

He sank down once more, waiting. Perhaps he could convince Halbarad to rest first; he would manage to stay awake for a few hours if he kept that sharp rock in his back….

"Strider!" Halbarad called to him, and the tone of his voice made the hairs on Aragorn's back stand on end. Something was not right. Something had happened. He quickly got to his feet, but stood hunched over so as not to be taller than the grass. His hand rested in the hilt of his sword, but he could see or hear nothing out of the ordinary.

Halbarad reached him a second later, clearly agitated. "Strider, are you well? Nothing has befallen you while I was gone?" His eyes travelled up and down Aragorn's body as if to make sure that he was indeed alive and not worse then when he had left him.

"Aye, I am well, and no, nothing has happened. Why?"

"We have to leave here, now. Come, I will show you why." Only then did Aragorn notice that Halbarad had his bow in hand, an arrow already on the string, but still lax. Halbarad turned around and headed into the direction he had come from, sure that Aragorn would follow him, which he did.

They moved through the tall grass for some minutes, with Halbarad constantly looking over his shoulder and scanning his surroundings, as if he suspected an imminent attack. Aragorn could feel his tension rising. He knew his friend well enough to be able to tell that something had indeed happened. Otherwise Halbarad would not act the way he did.

"Halbarad, what…."

But Halbarad shook his head and gestured to something Aragorn could not yet see. "I will show you and you will tell me what you think of it. So we will have two independent opinions."

Knowing the merits of this approach, Aragorn said nothing more but followed his kinsman up a small hill, using the few bushes and small rocks as hand and footholds. The ground was still slippery and muddy, forcing the two rangers to pay close attention to where they were placing their feet.

Once down and at the base of the small hill, Halbarad gestured to the left, where the hill made a bend and some low shrubs grew. Moving towards them, Halbarad explained in a soft voice, "I saw these bushes from up the hill and thought that maybe some pain reducing herbs grew in their shadows, sheltered from the worst of the rain. But when I reached them, I saw this."

And with these words Halbarad gestured at something in the mud. When Aragorn reached his side he stepped away, eyes trained on their surroundings, bow at the ready. Aragorn frowned, but then gazed down at what his friend had wanted to show him.

At first, he saw nothing. The ground was overgrown with grass, wet and muddy. There grew no tall grasses on this side of the hill, and for a moment Aragorn was at a complete loss as to what had alerted his friend so. Tilting his head, he took a step to the side, forcing his eyes to gaze at the spot from another angle. And then, he saw it.

His eyes grew larger and with a quick motion he crouched down, one hand pressed at his side to steady the wound, the other tracing the outline of the footprint. The print was almost invisible; the grass had bent back already and the mud had filled it, but it was still there. Perhaps half a day old, maybe a bit longer. It was difficult to tell with the rain and the wind and this unstable ground.

Someone had been here the previous night, a human, and by the looks of the imprint, it had been no ranger. Rangers wore soft leather boots that made little sound on the ground and the soles of the shoes the rangers used were made of strong leather. A material that would make it possible for them to feel the ground they were walking on, while at the same time protecting their feet.

The one who had made this imprint had worn shoes with a leather and wood sole. Shoes that the people in the towns wore, or people who were used to travelling by horse. A cold shiver that had nothing to do with the temperatures crawled down Aragorn's spine. Had the assassin been here? Was it possible that the one who followed them had actually passed them by during the night?

The thought made his hackles rise. He had thought that the one who had attacked them was behind them, but if he was indeed in front of them, then it would be difficult to escape him. Valar, he could be waiting for them after the next rise of the land, or set up traps.

With a heavy sigh Aragorn got to his feet and then locked his eyes with Halbarad. This one look was enough to confirm Halbarad's own suspicions.

"No one travels this far south but the rangers. It must be him." Halbarad said.

"Aye. And he must have abandoned his horse, for surely we would have heard it when he passed us by."

Halbarad took a step closer to him, but his eyes stayed on their surroundings. "It makes sense, in a way. We would have heard the horse and seen him from leagues away, for he would not have been able to hide in the grass. Without a horse, he could overtake us easily."

Aragorn nodded and he felt a stab of guilt in his heart. It was his fault that they were so slow and had been forced to rest constantly during their trek. And furthermore, was this assassin not after him? Had Halbarad not come with him to Bree, or he not come with Halbarad, then they would not be in this situation right now.

Before Halbarad could see his emotions, though, Aragorn turned and gazed at their surroundings. "If he was indeed here and waits for us somewhere, then he must know this territory. Otherwise he would not have been able to elude us."

Halbarad nodded. "Perhaps he even knows where we are heading, and if that is so, then we should ponder whether or not to go somewhere else entirely." He shrugged half-heartedly and then suggested, "We could return to Bree now. Then he would be behind us once more."

Aragorn thought about his for a moment, but then he shook his head. "We would risk him overtaking us once more. He could keep this cat and mouse game up for days, and we lack the provisions to play along. No, we have already made good progress to the ford. I think we should keep to our intended path, but I would hear your opinion on this matter."

Aragorn gazed at Halbarad. It was trued that he wished to hear his friends opinion; after all, it was not only his life that hung in the balance.

Halbarad chewed on his bottom lip for a moment or two, and then he shrugged his shoulders once more, "I agree with you, Strider, although I do not like the idea that he might be awaiting us. We will be sitting ducks for him."

"I know, Halbarad, I know. If we make haste, we could reach the ford in four days. We will move during the nights and use as much of the days as possible, too."

This made Halbarad frown, but he said nothing. He knew that Aragorn needed rest if his wounds were to heal, but he also knew that they needed to make haste. There was nothing won with a healed, but then very dead Chieftain of the Dunedain.

"Then come, Halbarad, let us make good on our words and move on."

Without further ado, the two rangers moved on, despite the weak sunlight that had by now descended upon the lands. With no grass as cover, they felt exposed to unfriendly eyes, and now they dearly wished for another rainstorm, so that darkness and rain would hide their tall forms.

To both their relief the day went by without incident. They stopped every hour for a short rest, but when night fell on the lands once more, Aragorn was unable to move on. His legs and chest hurt tremendously and he felt slightly sick. Halbarad did not feel any better, but he ignored his own discomfort when he saw the almost grey face of his friend.

They found some bushes that would do as shelter, and to their surprise these bushes held some eatable berries, which they devoured quickly. Why, there were even some mushrooms growing under the plants, which helped to ease their hunger. Aragorn and Halbarad filled the rest of their half empty stomachs with water that they drank from one of the puddles that dotted the plains. The water was not as clean as they wished, but it was clean enough.

"Let me see to your wound, Strider." Halbarad scooted closer and had already reached out to lift the cloak and tunic. But Aragorn batted his hand away wearily.

"No, leave it be for now. It does not hurt anymore and will be fine for a few more hours."

And it was true; the wound had stopped hurting during the day, probably due to the fact that it now felt numb. Aragorn knew not whether that was a good sign or a really bad one, given the gravity of the injury, but he was glad that it did not hurt him for a change. If Halbarad would clean and wrap it now, it would start to pain him again, Aragorn was certain of that.

"Let me at least look at it, Strider." Halbarad asked, and Aragorn released a deep breath and nodded. His friend would not rest ere he had seen the wound and made sure that Aragorn was well.

To both their relief the wound had bled only a bit during the day and it did not even require new bandages.

"Well, at least one good thing today."

"We are not dead yet, Hal. I think that is good as well." Aragorn said tiredly. His eyes had already started to drift shut and he was struggling to stay awake. He had been tired when they had stopped in the morning, and only his sheer willpower and determination had made it possible for him to keep up with his friend. But now, he knew that the would not be able to keep awake much longer.

He hated himself for doing it, but there was nothing for it. "Hal, I…Would you take the first watch?"

A startled gaze met Aragorn's own. Halbarad looked at him closely, and then nodded. "Sure. Sleep, Strider, you will need it."

"Wake me, in two hours, Halbarad. You need your sleep as much as I do." Halbarad nodded once more, although he had no intention to do so. He would let his friend sleep as long as he could keep his own eyes open. Two hours were too short to sleep properly. He knew that he needed his sleep, but he would let Aragorn sleep undisturbed for as long as possible and only then would he take his own rest.

Aragorn lay down on the grass that had dried a bit after a day without rain and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, the muscles in his thighs felt ready to spasm and he still felt hungry. His ribs hurt and his whole body seemed to be one big bruise. Now, two days after his tumble down the hill, some more bruises had shown itself and he felt them ache.

Still, before he fell asleep completely, he said softly, but sternly, "And that was an order, Captain. Wake me in two hours."

Halbarad flinched, feeling caught red handed although he had not done anything yet. He turned towards Aragorn to reply, but when his eyes fell on his friend he found him already asleep, with one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other under his head, functioning as pillow.

A sigh left Halbarad's lips and he shifted his gaze outwards once more, making sure that nothing evil befell them. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes. Perhaps two hours were long enough after all…

To be continued…