Chapter 3

Consciousness returned slowly to Legolas and with his waking senses came pain. Chilled moisture from the rain soaked earth at his back seeped through the cloak around him, pulling aggressively at his awareness. A shiver raced through him, eliciting a soft moan from the injured prince who struggled in coming to. He was cold, which was a foreign feeling for an elf and the sensation felt like torture against his hazy perceptions.

Opening his eyes took more effort than it should. He blinked several times to try and ease the violent pounding of a headache that was threatening the clarity of his vision. But his sights would not focus and the beating pressure did not ease.

Dimly, he could make out the frigid night sky above him. Through somewhat bare tree branches, the stars were twinkling overhead, dancing between thick clouds that were passing over the velvety black darkness.

He tried to take in a deep draught of air, but choked as something hindered him to breathe properly. His lungs were starting to scream with the need for clear access to oxygen and he resorted to taking ragged gulps of air through his nose with the hopes of gaining his breath. The elf moved a hand to his face, attempting to free his mouth but even that simple task was wrought with strife. One hand would not move without the other and his fingers could not register touch. He could feel his digits scraping clumsily on his face, but his fingers were completely numb and they would not obey any command.

His struggles only lead to panic when his memories slammed into him but there was a moment of doubt within the elf after taking in his blurry surroundings. He had no idea where he was. Obviously he was no longer in town, but his exact whereabouts were unclear and he could not fathom how he ended up in the middle of the forest. Did his captors sell him? Or were they simply moving to another town to whore him out to a host of new people?

A surge of adrenaline burst through him. It didn't matter what circumstances he was under, he needed to escape.

He grappled with his own limbs, using all of his effort to push himself up with his unresponsive hands. Yet the slightest bit of pressure on his overstrained muscles shot fiery agony across his shoulders. His prolonged suspension at the mercy of his captors rendered them mostly useless right now, but he tried again to sit up, this time without the aid of his arms.

It seemed everything was now working against him. The world spun nauseatingly about the elf. He had received far too many blows to the head and the prince thought he was going to be sick.

Precious time was wasted in his battle to keep his stomach down, but was mildly relieved to find he was alone in a small clearing of the forest. However, bags of gear were piled beside him which only meant one thing - his captors would be back. He could not afford to waste any more time.

Using a tree for support, he stiffly stood to his feet, doing his best to maintain his wavering consciousness. The cloak he was previously wrapped in slipped off his shoulders, but that was the least of his worries. His leggings slid down his waist and he fought with his bound numb hands to try and grab the laces of his pants, but they were missing. It would have done him no good anyway - his hands would not have been able to manipulate the strings even if they were still attached to the fabric. Instead, he pushed his elbows into his hips to pin the clothing to his body preventing them from falling off completely.

The cold assaulted him and the injured prince shivered once more. His clothing was less than adequate but he was prevented from looking for anything when footsteps in the distance floated to his ears. Someone was making their way back and his heart lurched in his chest.

Legolas took off into the forest, weaving deeper into the trees. He didn't know where he was going or what direction he was headed, he just hoped that he was going in the opposite direction of his captors. His limbs were clumsy and shaky at best, but he kept pushing himself to put as much distance between those men and himself as possible. The exertion he was forcing on his battered and abused body was beginning to take its toll and he could feel the last of his strength dwindling. His head started to swim as dehydration and poor physical condition lead him closer and closer to delirium.

Suddenly, a warning was picked up by the elf. It wasn't a voice, rather it was more of a feeling. He stopped in his tracks and listened, using his heightened Elven senses to decipher the noises in the dark forest. The trees were groggy as fall was lulling them into their deep winter sleep, but they could see the danger that followed the fleeing elf and they begged him to hide. A few yards ahead of him, he saw the blurry outline of a willow tree; its long drooping branches were swaying in the slight breeze. It was calling to him, offering refuge within its thick strong branches and security in the swaying limbs.

He staggered under the tree only to trip on the knotted roots that sank into the earth. The effort it took to get back to his feet let him know his strength was spent and he would hold no chance in fighting back if he was apprehended again. His only hope to gain safety would not be on the ground.

Ignoring the fiery ache in his arms, he reached his bound hands above his head to grab onto the strong branches and pull himself up into the tree... But his fingers would not close around the branch no matter how much will he forced upon them.

He hobbled around the trunk looking for a better alternative and when he found a thick, low-hanging branch, he lifted his leg to propel himself up. A sharp flash of agony ripped through his backside as his torn body seized up and protested the movement. He froze as the pain gave way to dizziness and the elf desperately panted to remain alert.

Torchlight spilled about the immediate area as his pursuers followed his trail. Legolas watched the flickering flame sweep above the ground to track him. His body went heavy with dread. His captors were so close and there was no place for him to seek refuge.

Legolas put his back to the tree and slid down to the ground, not caring that the rough bark grated painfully against the cuts and bruises over his bare back. Lightheadedness was battling his consciousness and the prince drew his knees to his chest. Resting his elbows on top of his knees, he braced his head against his bound wrists in a pitiful attempt to hide. Tears of hopelessness slid down his battered cheeks for the only thing he could do now was pray that his captors would not find him.

The torchlight was snuffed out by a gust of wind, but it did not deter those looking for him. His sharp hearing picked up the sound of heavy foot falls crushing the soggy dead leaves that littered the forest floor.

Blind panic overtook the elf and he gulped for air around the gag in his mouth. A thin sheen of perspiration covered the elf's exposed skin, causing him to shiver harder.

The willow limbs parted and a tall silhouetted figure approached the prince with caution. Legolas hung his head in defeat.

They found him.

Aragorn reached the glen with an armload of kindling and logs to start a fire. Tending to his friend was going to be difficult enough with the limited resources they had, but nothing could be done without light. Reluctantly he made the choice to leave in order to gather firewood while Gimli did a survey of the area to ensure they would be safe here. Leaving the elf alone was not ideal, but there were only two people within their company capable of carrying out the multiple tasks any camp would require and priorities had to be set. Besides, it was doubtful the elf would be waking anytime soon.

The breeze picked up and tugged at Aragorn's hair, blowing it into his eyes and obstructing his view. He tossed his head to the side to shake the dark strands away from his face and once his vision was clear he immediately took notice of the empty space where he left the unconscious prince. All he saw was the crumpled cloak lying beside his pack.

The elf was gone.

"Legolas?" he called out. The logs in his arms fell to the earth with a clatter and the man spun in a tight circle to locate his missing friend.

"LEGOLAS?!" His call was louder this time and he strained his ears to hear a response. The only thing he heard was the rustle of dead leaves that still clung to the trees as the wind picked up.

Aragorn swore to himself. He knew he shouldn't have left the elf alone, but he honestly didn't think Legolas was capable of gaining his senses so soon, let alone walking. The king was only gone for a few short moments, but in that span of time, the prince proved all of Aragorn's judgments to be wrong.

He left the logs where they fell and the king ran to his pack to find his flint. After grabbing a stick he ripped a piece of cloth from his under tunic. He wrapped the material around one end of the stick, creating a makeshift torch. The flint was struck and sparks flew about, landing on the soggy earth beneath him, but the char did not hold.

He tried again and again with little success for nothing was going to light in the damp mess he had in his hands. He cursed the rain. They did not have time for this.

Aragorn reached back into his pack and floundered around for a small phial of healing oil. He pried the cork off with his teeth and quickly placed a few drops of pungent liquid on the cloth. When he struck his flint once more, the oil instantly ignited into a burning blaze.

He stood up and pushed the torch towards the ground in an attempt to pick up the elf's trail. He searched the leaves until he was able to find what he was looking for; A faint, almost unreadable footprint was pressed into the miry earth and it pointed the former ranger north through the forest.

That was enough to send Aragorn in the right direction. After grabbing his cloak off of the ground and retrieving his pack, the man took off after the staggered trail as it led him several yards away from the clearing.

It was not too difficult for Aragorn to follow the wake of Legolas' escape, but that changed as a sudden gust of wind tore through the forest. The torch flickered dangerously and he cupped his free hand around the blazing stick while using his body as a shield to protect the flame.

His attempts failed. The light burned low before it was blown out.

He threw the charred stick away with a grunt of frustration, but continued onward, looking for another sign that Legolas was nearby. He crouched to the ground and used what little starlight was present to try and read the earth, but he could see nothing.

A faint sound reached Aragorn's ears. It was almost unheard and he wondered if it was the noises of the forest playing tricks with him or not. But then he heard it again. It was the sound of a soft sob in the distance and it alerted Aragorn that he was not alone.

Standing up, Aragorn regarded the area closely, but even in the dark he could make out the only bit of formidable shelter before him. A willow tree provided a dark screen with its drooping branches and the man had a gut suspicion the elf sought it out.

He walked over to the tree carefully and parted the dangling fronds as he stepped through. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but there he found Legolas huddled against the tree trunk in a miserable heap on the ground.

He took a step closer toward the elf, but Legolas flinched. The prince held up his bound hands in a last ditch effort to ward off the pursuer.

"Legolas?" Aragorn called out softly and crouched in front of the prince. Attentively, he took the elf's hands in his own. "Legolas? Ssshhh, mellon-nin (my friend). It is ok, 'Tis only I."

The elf peaked out at the man in front of him, every fiber of his being was tense. He tried to say something, but his words were muffled by the gag that was around his mouth.

Quickly, Aragorn reached behind Legolas' head to untie the gag, but the elf pulled back from the sudden movement. The prince pressed himself up against the tree behind him and Aragorn recoiled.

"Legolas?" He questioned again. He looked into his friend's' terrified and delirious gaze doubting the elf truly knew what was going on. "Legolas, mellon-nin. It is just me. It's Estel. You are safe now. No one will hurt you any longer."

Aragorn slid his hands to the prince's flush cheeks, holding his friend's face between his hands for a moment. He drew their heads together slowly and rested his forehead against the elf's temple so Legolas could feel his presence. "I promise you, you are safe now." He whispered.

Legolas began to quake at the gentle touch, but did not pull back. Carefully, Aragorn eased his hands behind the elf's head and picked at the knotted fabric until it fell away from Legolas' pale lips.

Aragorn let out a small gasp. The gag that was placed around the elf's head hid another contraption. A large metal ring was pushed behind his teeth, keeping his jaw open while leather straps dug painfully into the corners of the prince's mouth, holding the piece in place. A sturdy metal buckle was fastened behind his head making sure that the mouthpiece could not be removed unless someone, other than the elf, wanted it off.

Aragorn clenched his jaw. He was appalled as he realized what the device was for. He heard familiar words echo in his head.

§§ "Five to fuck it, ten to use it's mouth." §§

Aragorn attacked the buckle with urgency. He fumbled with the bond, trying to force the stiff leather to bend and allow the prong to slide out of the notch. After a few long minutes, the straps finally became loose and the man tenderly slid the ring away from the prince's bloody, split lips.

Yet something was still wrong. Legolas' mouth remained slightly ajar and he was panting through his nose. A choked swallow indicated there was something blocking his airways.

Aragorn tipped his friend's head back and peered into his mouth, squinting in the darkness to try and see what was wrong. It was far too dark to see anything so he took his index finger and slowly pushed it past the prince's teeth. His finger brushed against something wet and soft, but was not a natural feeling. He added a second finger to grab the object and pulled it out.

A wadded up cloth had been pressed deep into his friend's throat and the elf gasped and sputtered for air as the offensive material was removed.

Legolas instinctively tried to swallow in an attempt to ease the burning sensation at the back of his throat from nearly choking on the material since it was placed in his mouth. He was parched and it was painful to swallow.

Aragorn reached into his pack and retrieved a drinking horn. He uncorked it and pushed the rim to the elf's' lips, cautiously pouring the cool liquid into Legolas' mouth who gulped at the water greedily. Legolas wasn't even aware of what he was doing, but his body's need for water took control and he drained the leather pouch swiftly.

Aragorn tucked the empty canteen in his pack and turned back to the prince. Legolas' eyes were huge in the darkness and Aragorn could tell that the elf was terrified as Legolas began to tremble again.

"Calm down, Legolas. It is just me. Gimli is nearby as well... you are safe now." Aragorn tried to lay his friend's fears to rest with his soothing reassurance.

"What?" Legolas could not think straight anymore. He heard the words, but they did not make sense to him. Why was Aragorn here? Was he captured too? Where were they?

"How..." the elf's voice was rough, cracking on the single word, but he could not remember what he was asking. "... Where is... Who?... Strider?..."

Aragorn saw the confusion on the elf's tear stained face. "Don't worry yourself with it now, Legolas. You are safe; you do not have to worry about anything." Aragorn reached out to brush the tears away from Legolas' cheeks, but the prince drew back sharply.

"Stop!" He yelped.

Aragorn withdrew again, a flash of anguish passed over his features. He desperately wanted to comfort his friend, but Legolas was too edgy with his every move. The king was at a total loss with what to do and just sat there, allowing the silence to take over in the hopes that the calm influence would help. Aragorn's heart broke.

"Oh, Greenleaf." He whispered the age-old nick-name. Tears were sparkling in the human's eyes as he regarded the elf and every ragged labored breath tore at the king. Legolas needed help, but the man was too afraid to even touch his friend.

The man shook out his cloak and draped it over Legolas' shoulders as he positioned himself in front of the cowering being. Aragorn reached into his boot and pulled out an elegant elven dagger.

Gently he reached out to gather the elf's slender bound wrists and began to cut the ropes that tethered them together. Once the cording was peeled away, he collected the rope along with the various gags and flung them out into the forest. He was glad to get rid of the cruel restraints. Returning to the blond, he took a seat in silence and began to massage his friend's swollen and discolored hands to increase the blood flow that had been cut off for far too long.

"Let us head back to camp." Aragorn spoke with an easy tone to help settle any hesitations. "We will have a nice, warm fire going and I can treat your wounds better in the light." He watched the elf, expecting a quick agreement, but the elf did not respond. He just sat there, intently watching Aragorn kneed his hands.

"Can you stand?" Aragorn asked to prompt some kind of acknowledgement from his friend, but still the elf said nothing and kept his eyes riveted to soft motions on his palms. This was worrisome.

"Legolas?" Aragorn tried one last time to gain the prince's attention and it seemed the mention of his name produced some sort of response because the elf finally looked at him with a lost expression.

It was plain to see Legolas was having difficulty comprehending anything at the moment and the former ranger just gave a soft sad smile. This could be the result of numerous issues; shock, concussion, dehydration…. but the diagnosis would have to wait until he could examine his friend.

"Come, Legolas." Aragorn took charge with his soft encouragement, but doubted the elf heard him. The king stood to his feet before he reached down to pull the elf up with him.

Pain ripped through the prince's awareness. He had been suspended by his arms for far too long during his captivity and the pull on his extremities caused the shot muscles in his shoulders to scream in protest. However, before he could recover from that assault the sudden change in position flared a burn of agony in his backside that shot to his core. He let a breathless cry as the world tipped around him. He swayed violently to the side and Aragorn was compelled to catch his friend or else he would end up on the ground.

Legolas fought with consciousness and tried to hold on to his awareness, but his body suddenly went numb before darkness washed over his senses.

Aragorn felt his friend's body go limp against him. "Legolas?... Legolas!" He gently shook the elf, but he received no response.

Gingerly, Legolas was eased to the ground and Aragorn took the time to rewrap his friend in the protective cloak before retrieving the rest of his things. Lastly, Legolas was scooped into the man's arms once more and Aragorn headed back to camp.

It was not a far walk and soon Aragorn entered the clearing that they deemed suitable for base. He found Gimli standing in the center of the glen packing up the firewood along with all of their belongings hefted onto his back.

"Gimli? What are you doing?" He asked.

"I have found a better place for the night." Gimli sounded pleased with himself.

"Have you? Is it close?" Aragorn asked as he shifted Legolas' weight in his arms.

Gimli looked at Aragorn and noted the situation. "Aye. It isn't too far from here. There is a cavern just over the hill to the west. It will be safer there." A slight drizzle of rain began to descend on the company and the man and dwarf squinted as they looked to the sky to judge the cloud cover that was rolling back in.

"It'll be dryer too!" Gimli chirped. "Come Aragorn, I have all our gear."

Gimli led the way through the forest with Aragorn trailing closely behind.