Chapter 5

The rest of the night proved uneventful other than occasional lazy showers that passed through the area. Gimli kept vigil over the immediate forest surrounding the cavern and tended to the fire while Aragorn sat with the sleeping elf. Neither of them slept; rest would not find them despite how weary they were and they spoke very little to one another.

In just a few short hours, dawn came near. Her approach was slowed for the faint sunlight was blocked by a thick cover of clouds. The murky twilight seemed to drag on and the man and dwarf grew restless with the day's sluggish return.

With the slow transition into morning, the forest began to wake up with the gloomy light. The earth however, remained snugly wrapped in a blanket of thick fog when the moisture from the rain-soaked earth condensed in the cool air. Visibility was drastically limited and the veil covering the forest muted what little sounds were present.

Gimli stood to his feet and stretched against the stiffness that worked its way into his bones. He grabbed a few of the remaining logs and stoked the dying fire to chase away the damp chill that lingered in the cavern. He looked to the elf who was still deep in slumber; his golden head rested on Aragorn's leg and the bruises fully developed overnight leaving the once fair face discolored and swollen. Gimli let his gaze drop.

"What's the plan for today?" he asked in a hushed tone. He knew they could not afford to stay here another night; folk from the town were most likely about trying to find them after the chaos they caused. And yet he doubted that leaving would be possible because the elf was in no shape to travel.

The man shook his head as he thought. "I do not know. I fear lingering here for too long. We should head back to Minas Tirith, but..." He let his statement dissolve while he gently placed his hand on the elf's shoulder, confirming that he had the same concerns as the dwarf. The silence grew between them before the dwarf nodded in agreement.

"Besides, traveling in *that*-" Aragorn pointed to the cloudy forest "- could prove to be a wrong choice as well. There is no sense in walking blind in these foreign woods. We would not be able to see more than a sword's length in front of us and getting lost will only make things worse."

"Aye." the dwarf agreed. "Perhaps the day will clear up once the sun rises and burn up some of this cloud."

"Let me see one of our maps." He pointed to Gimli's pack that lay a few feet away. The dwarf obliged and shuffled through the pockets, pulling out a well worn map that was folded into a neat square. He passed it to the man who carefully opened the stiff parchment, making as little noise as possible to not wake their sleeping companion.

After finding their location, he ran his finger over the page looking at the various roads that criss-crossed through the land, trying to decipher what they were most likely used for and trying to find the ones that led the most direct route while keeping the fewest travelers. Gimli peered over his shoulder and followed the man's thoughts as the maze of roads were traced with Aragorn's fingers.

"Where are we going?" the dwarf asked. The man sighed as he poured over the map.

"Well… I am not too sure." Aragorn pulled the map closer to his face. "We have gained some valuable knowledge and I want to deliver a report to my staff so efforts can be made to put a stop to the orc-weapons trade and the abduction of my people as soon as possible. Minas Tirith would be my choice. But Ithilien is just across from the Anduin River and we are not far from there…" the man paused, studying the map deep in thought. "Yet… I do not know if that is where we need to go. Legolas needs further care and I am not all that positive there are healers in Ithilien capable of healing wounds that go beyond the body."

"Can you not help?" the dwarf suggested by way of asking. "I think you are the one with renowned skills, Aragorn. Does he really need to be dumped into the hands of others? I don't want to just up-and-leave him. He barely trusted us enough last night…"

Aragorn gave an asymmetrical smile laced with sorrow.

"No, nor do I, but I have no experience in Elven grief. Elladan and Elrohir - my brothers - are probably the most skilled healers left in Middle Earth. I know not if they can heal his heart and soul, but I know they have at least witnessed despair grip an elf. Their mother succumbed to grief. Ultimately she chose to sail before she faded, but she was well on that path when she made that choice…" Aragorn stopped, leaning over the prone form of his friend to make sure the prince still slept.

"Do you think that will be the case with Legolas?" The dwarf asked. Learning of elven grief for the first time hours ago worried him and he had so many questions.

Aragorn straightened up. He did not know how to answer. Miracles could happen, but how could Legolas not grieve what he had been put through? The utter hopelessness he witnessed from his friend's eyes was haunting and the man shook his head, trying to ban the images from his mind.

"I know not, Gimli."

"He promised last night that he was going to hold on." Gimli reminded Aragorn, hoping that provided some kind of answer.

"He held on last night, but I do not know if he can keep that promise and quite honestly, I would not hold it against him if he broke it." Aragorn admitted grimly. "I was scared after hearing what Legolas intended. My own demand of him was only meant to pull him away from the edge before he made the wrong choice. I will not stand to see him give up his own life, especially like that - violated and beaten half-to-death in a cave in the middle of no-where…" Aragorn let out a fleeting sigh and began folding the parchment back up. "He was ready at that moment to give up and I wouldn't let him go. Not under those circumstances. He deserves a chance to make a proper choice, not a hasty one… Perhaps my brothers know something I do not." Aragorn said, running a hand through his hair as if he were pushing the strain of his thoughts from his head with the simple motion.

"Aren't they in Rivendell?" Gimli asked, knowing the answer to his question already.

"They are." Aragron with a dismal sigh.

"Shall we head ta' Rivendell, then?"

Aragorn actually contemplated the idea briefly before dismissing it.

"No, Gimli. It will take weeks to make it there. Legolas won't make that kind of journey - not in his current state. Besides, winter is at our heels and I am not sure we will make it before the mountain passes close with snow."

"So… Minas Tirith, then?"

"... It seems like it is our only logical option." Aragorn paused, thinking about the choices they had before he unfolded the map once more. He pointed to the borders of Ithilien sketched out in back ink, tapping his finger along the line that depicted the Anduin River. "Besides, there are no ferries to cross the river this far north. If we wanted to get to Ithilien, we would have to go all the way to Osgiliath to safely cross."

"Eehh, and Minas Tirith is on the way anyway."

"Exactly."

"Then, I reckon we'd be retracing our path here.. minus the detours through small towns. Probably be lookin' ta' travel for… what would you say - three days?"

"Something like that… It will solely depend on Legolas and how well he can travel." Aragorn folded the map for the last time and handed it back to Gimli who placed it back in the pouch he got it from.

Aragorn remained on the cavern floor for a while longer until he was finally ready to get up. Carefully, he shifted Legolas off of his lap and removed one of the cloaks that was covering the prince in order to ball it up and place it under the elf's head to keep him comfortable as he continued to rest.

"I am going to have a look around to try and get our bearings. I believe that the south is in that direction," he pointed to the far end of the cavern for the dwarf to see. "but could be wrong."

The man stood to his feet and walked toward the opening of the cave as he attached his sword to his side.

"Ah'right, but be careful!" the dwarf warned. "It's dangerous to walk in clouded forests with no idea where anythin' is."

The man nodded at the comment.

"I'll get everythin' packed up so we can be on our way. Should be about time to get the elf up too, eehh?"

Aragorn looked to the prince and pondered over the statement for a few seconds before he shook his head.

"No Gimli, let him be." Quietly, the man took a deep breath, his features worried into a look of uncertain guilt. "I... drugged Legolas last night. It was the only way to ensure he got any bit of rest and I doubt the herbs have worn off. Let him sleep as long as he can. We will wake him later."

The dwarf looked surprised after hearing this, but only nodded in understanding before the man turned out of the cave.

The moment Aragorn left the cozy cavern, the cold, damp air swamped him and he pulled his leather overcoat tight about his frame. His breath appeared before his face like a puff of dragon's smoke as the warmth coagulated sharply in the cold. He flipped the hood to his coat over his head and ventured into the misty forest. The fog was slowly beginning to lift and the forest that was hidden began to take shape around the area.

Their journey last night was not well documented because they were simply trying to move as far away from the town as possible. Aragorn noted that he didn't really know where they were and with the thick cloud cover, any hint of direction was completely lost.

It was not long before the man stumbled on the glen that they had originally claimed for a campsite last night. Using this new position, the man back-tracked the path they took. He remembered seeing a creek nearby and matched it up to the one he saw on their map. If he was correct, it flowed from west to east, dumping out into the Anduin River. If he could find that creek and see which direction it ran in, he could get a better sense of which direction to take.

The search for the creek took some time, but Aragorn's efforts were finally rewarded with the sound of running water over a hill some distance away. He quickened his pace, starling a small flock of scarlet birds that flushed from their roost with frantic energy. The man stepped carefully over the crest of the knoll to find a deeply carved brook just below him. The former ranger studied the flowing water, taking note of the direction it moved.

A gray fox trotted along the opposite shore and it perked its ears, watching the man before it casually bounded off and vanished within the cloak of the lingering fog. Aragorn paused for a moment, carefully listening to any sounds from the surrounding forest, but other than the soft babble of the crystal clear water, he could hear nothing. With calculated steps, he descended the small hill to the rocky shore and kneeled at the water's edge. He cupped his hands and dipped them in the frigid water to splash a few handfuls of water over his face. Aragorn gasped, the crips liquid tingled his features, but refreshed his worn-out senses. The man repeated the process, briskly rubbing his face in an attempt to wash the tiredness away from his eyes due to a sleepless night full of stress and sorrow.

He took a mouthful of water from his rounded hands and swished the water about before spitting out. He sat back on his heels and began to wipe his face dry with his sleeve, but as he did so, his sharp sights picked out an abnormality on the river bank.

A few paces away, he spotted an unassuming, hand-sized rock. But unlike the other rocks that were tightly packed in their place, this particular one was sitting freely on top of the otherwise level bank. The man studied it for a moment, noting that the top of the rock held a fine coating of river grit.

Aragorn got up and made his way over to the rock. It had been raining heavily until recently and Aragorn knew that the sand and grime that clung to the rock should have been washed away.

The ex-ranger began surveying the bank only to find a faint boot print on the sandy beach and a near perfect indentation where the rock had come from, obviously pried loose by the toe of whoever walked there.

But that wasn't the only track he saw. The ground began to speak to him and gave away its secrets. There was more than one set of tracks and he followed the prints for a while as they spanned the depth of the creek bed. The footprints led to the tree line and went off into the forest. To some degree, they were going in the direction he had just come.

These tracks were fresh - too fresh. Anyone who had been walking around the banks were probably doing so when it was still dark and that did not sit well with Aragorn. It was unwise to travel when it was dark and these were far too close to their encampment for comfort.

Aragron quickly made for the cave, now hyper-aware of his surroundings.

Gimli was surveying the fog's progress when he heard Aragorn approaching.

"What did ya' find Lad?" Gimli asked.

"We need to head this way," Aragorn pointed through the forest "And it would serve us better to leave sooner rather than later." He added quickly as he ducked into the cavern with Gimli closely behind him.

"What's goin' on? What did ya' see?" The dwarf quietly pressed for more information.

"There are people out there somewhere and they were traveling when they should not have been."

The dwarf's mouth dropped slightly at the news. "What? Are we being tracked?"

"I do not know, but I do not plan to find out. We should leave - Now."

The urgency in the man's voice spurred Gimli into motion and the dwarf began to pack hastily.

Aragorn couched by Legolas taking on the task of rousing the elf. Gently, Aragorn brushed the stray and unkempt hair away from his friend's face while softly speaking to him in the gray tongue. When that proved to have little effect, Aragorn moved his hand to the elf's back and rubbed it lightly, beckoning him to wake up. It took a few moments of gentle encouragement, but the prince finally stirred and his eyes blinked open.

"Aur vaer mellon-nin" (good morning my friend) The ranger smiled slightly at the groggy face that stared back at him.

"Mani?" (what) The elf's quiet voice was rough. He squinted against the light as sleep refused to recede. The smile on the man's face deepened compassionately as he watched the elf regain his senses.

"The sun has risen only a little while ago, but it is time to get up. We need to make our way back to Minas Tirith."

The statement seemed to wash over the elf who remained motionless on the cavern floor. He heard the words the man spoke, but he could not make much sense of them. His eyes began to blink heavily with the effort to keep them open and the struggle to remain awake was noted by the man. He grimaced slightly knowing that the drugs he secretly administered to the elf were not helping right now and were pulling the prince back under. He wished he did not have to wake his injured friend, but they had to leave.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said gently and squeezed the elf's shoulder to distract the sleep claiming him. "Come, Greenleaf. We need to get moving. Can you sit up?"

The elf's eyes rolled open once more, but the man's encouragement seemed to have more weight this time. The elf turned his head and looked about as if noticing where they were for the first time, but accepted their location without any fuss. He did not answer Aragorn's question and was still processing the world about him faintly.

"Let's get you sitting so you can wake up." Aragorn reiterated. He slid his hands under the prince to help get him off the floor.

Legolas winced as he moved his arms for the first time that morning. His muscles were shot from being forced to bear his weight for so long during his imprisonment and the slightest movement flared an aching burn. The elf let off a soft moan with the pained effort to get upright, but did not fight against the attempts to push him into a sitting position.

Legolas took a deep breath into his sore lungs. He felt disoriented and he could not focus on any sight for too long. A slight lightheadedness washed over him and he bowed his head to his hand as the sensation wouldn't leave. His stomach began to feel sour and he sighed once more to try and ease the unpleasant perception. On top of that, the bruises and wounds covering him were starting to wake up and he hurt everywhere.

The man watched the dazed elf for a while and the regret in drugging him only deepened. He knew full well of the possible side effects before the elf took the tranquilizer, but at the time he hoped the mild dosage would not be enough to have residual effects, aside from drowsiness. Though he allowed the elf to sleep as long as they could afford, Legolas was not granted a full night's rest. The potent herbs generated a sickly feeling and caused him to want to curl back up and go to sleep until their job had been completed.

"I don't feel well Estel..." the elf murmured as he drew in another deep breath. Aragorn knew that was a massive understatement.

"I feared you wouldn't. Give yourself a few hours and you will feel better." The man knew exactly what Legolas was speaking of. He evaluated the prince again to be sure it really was the side effects of the drugs that were causing the prince's discomfort rather than some other unknown factor.

The elf closed his eyes and pushed his thumb into the sides of his head to try and ease the headache that started to bubble up while the man checked his pulse and felt for temperature. He grimaced when he pushed on his wounded temple and dropped his hand to his lap.

"You will feel better once you eat and drink something. It will help flush your system out." The man said as he rummaged through their belongings to find some source of food that would be gentle on the elf's queasy stomach.

"...Flush what?" The elf's words slurred slightly with tiredness and he rubbed his eyes with his fists. He didn't know why, but Aragorn was not making sense.

The man returned to the prince with a leather pouch. He pulled at the drawstring to open the top and scooped out a small handful of salted nuts and dried fruit. He held the food out to the elf, but the prince just shook his head. The thought of food was enough to make him gag.

"Legolas... you need to eat something. It will help you."

"Help me with what?" Legolas' voice was a little harder this time as the man did not answer his first question.

Aragorn sighed and rolled his eyes slightly before he gave Legolas the answer he was seeking. "The drugs in your system - Now eat." The man extended his hand to the elf to try and get him to take to food again, but most importantly, to try and distract the prince from asking more questions. It did not work.

"What drugs?"

With another sigh, the ex-ranger came clean. "T-the ones I slipped into your tea last night to aid you in sleep-" the man stammered as the hazy elf glared at him. "Legolas, I meant no harm, you know this. You were not going to find any peaceful rest last night after-" Aragorn stopped mid-sentence as he caught himself bringing up what had transpired. He grimaced internally when the elf quickly dropped his gaze and looked off. It was very clear that he was trying not to let the memories return.

Aragorn cursed himself inwardly. He waited until the elf felt safe enough to look back at him before he spoke again.

"I am sorry-"

"Don't - Just... don't." The elf didn't want to hear anymore and he cut off any conversation on the topic as fast as he could. Aragorn understood the simple request and moved on. Harping on this would only cause more damage and he had no desire to start the day off this way.

"We have a long journey ahead of us. I would that you ate. Both to help with the drugs in your system now, and to aid your strength later." He held out the handful of nuts again, but the elf refused once more. "Legolas..." he chided.

"I do not want it, Strider."

"You need to eat."

"No!" The elf's temper began to flair as his frustrations began to build.

Gimli was watching the two cautiously and decided to intervene. Aragorn's persistence and Legolas' stubbornness was not a good mix even on a normal day and he made his way over to the two bickering beings. He stepped between the man and the elf and grabbed the bed rolls that Legolas had been laying on. He began to fold the thick fabric to pack it away and as he did so, he came to the elf's aid. Given the situation, he wanted to take any road to make the elf feel more comfortable. Besides, he needed to redeem himself from the part he played in pushing the prince too hard last night.

"Aragorn, have ya' not heard the saying 'you can lead an elf to water, but ya' cannot force him to drink?'"

The prince wrinkled his nose in disdain.

"I do believe the phrase is about a horse, and I, *Master Dwarf*, am no horse." he nearly growled. The dwarf gave a small shrug.

"Well Laddie, those beasts seem to have a mind of their own and are strong willed... Just as yourself." The dwarf winked at the elf letting him know that what he said was no more than a jest. Gimli turned to the man and spoke. "He'll eat when he's ready." With that, he gave the elf an overtly firm pat on the back, further jostling the prince to showcase his joking mood before he went about his business packing up.

The prince's face tightened in pain as he was pushed forward slightly and his injuries were aggravated by the harsh but friendly contact. His smoldering eyes watched the short being pick up the last bedroll and pack it up. He actually appreciated the dwarf coming to his defense, but he couldn't help but feel slightly insulted by Gimli's words. He turned his attention back to the man who was placing the food back in the pouch.

"Forgive me, Legolas." he whispered as he brushed the grains of salt from his fingers.

"There is nothing to forgive, mellon-nin." Legolas replied with a weary sigh. He didn't know why he was so irritable, but knew Aragorn was only trying his best by him.

"I'm just worried for you. 'Tis all."

The simple words cut through the elf and he was startled to feel the onset of tears forming deep in his eyes. He looked to the fire to give himself a distraction and yet an honest truth escaped his lips.

"Me too." Legolas cringed at his own words and realized how pathetic he sounded. Why did he say that?

The weary heartache surged in the man at the elf's soft comment and he flashed the prince a sympathetic smile that was laced with concern. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on the prince's stooped shoulder, giving it a light squeeze and allowing the elf to feel the comfort in the slight contact.

"Legolas-" the man started, but the elf cut him off.

"I am fine, Aragorn." The prince's rough voice belied his statement, but Aragorn did not know how to continue. Perhaps if they were not so pressed for time, he would try to pick the elf's words apart and help the elf to understand he did not need to hide from him, but they were running out of time.

"We will talk later." Aragorn offered before he got up to help the dwarf pack.

Dread formed in the elf. He didn't want to talk. Ever.

It wasn't long before the company's gear was stowed away. Gimli hefted various packs onto his back before he made his way to the fire and kicked the flames out while squashing the hot coals. Aragorn made his way to the elf to help him stand. Without a word, the king extended his hand to the prince and Legolas put up little resistance as he took the offered help.

The man pulled the prince up, but the moment the pull reached the elf's shoulders, the burning ache was pushed well beyond discomfort and he gasped. A sharp flash of pain ripped through his core in tandem with his movements and he cried out in shock at the violent attack. He wavered on his feet as the pain consumed him and he reached out to grip anything that would keep himself steady. His long fingers found the leather shoulders of Aragorn's overcoat, balling his fists while trying to cope with the pain. His knees wobbled and he felt unsteady while he could not breathe.

Aragorn's eyes went wide with concern, but he steadily stood there allowing the elf to use him as a support. His arms were at the ready to catch the prince should he fall, but all Aragorn could do was watch as the taut lines of agony over the pallid, youthful face constricted with each spasm until Legolas' pain subsided to a bearable level.

Aragorn remained still for a few moments as the prince panted and gathered his composure.

"Legolas?" The man's inquiry was only loud enough for the elf to hear. The concern in his voice asked the question for him, begging to know what was wrong. Legolas, however, cut him off with a shake of the head quickly followed by a curt nod indicating that he was alright. Aragorn was not put off and he remained where he was until he felt the elf move away under his own power.

The prince backed away slowly once he was sure he would not fall. He noted his cloak on the ground and bent slightly to pick it up, but at the slight movement his backside protested sharply and he tensed again until the pain passed.

Aragorn quickly bent over and picked the fabric up for the elf. He passed it to Legolas who was flushed slightly. The king acted as though he didn't notice, not wanting to draw attention to the prince's discomfort. He left Legolas alone to go gather the last of their belongings.

The man picked up his gear; strapping his sword to his hip and placing his pack at his side. He then reached for the elf's bow and quiver and slung them over his shoulder. Taking one last look to make sure nothing was left behind, he then turned to head out of the cavern with the dwarf in tow.

"Strider." the elf called out. Aragorn halted in his tracks and turned back to the cavern to find Legolas watching him. He back-tracked as Gimli turned out of the cave.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked.

Without a word, the elf reached out carefully to grab the leather straps of his quiver's harness. He refused to let the pain be played out across his features this time and grit his teeth as he tried to take his possessions from Aragorn. However, the man shifted back, intending to keep the weapons on his back rather than give them up.

"I want my weapons." the elf said flatly.

"You can scarcely move, let alone walk, without pain, mellon-nin. Let me carry them so as not to weigh you down."

"A bow and quiver does not possess so much weight that I cannot carry them myself... I want my weapons." The elf reached again for the quiver and the man reluctantly gave them up. Aragorn was saddened as he realized that the elf did not feel safe without any means to fight at his side, but he was not surprised.

Legolas shrugged the harness over one shoulder and tucked the case of arrows under his arm rather than strap it on properly and have the quiver lay across the injuries on his back. With his longbow clutched in his hand, the elf stiffly walked past the man and out of the cave.

The day wore on as the three companions traveled, but the cloud-covered sky did little to lift their spirits. The man and dwarf matched the elf's pace, noticing early on that he could not walk with his usual poise and his once long and graceful strides were now clumsy. Though there was an urgency to leave, they dare not push the prince to move faster than he was able. Instead, they closely watched the silent elf all day, ready at any moment to slow their pace or halt their progress altogether if they felt the elf was being pushed past his limits.

To Legolas however, the day passed by numbly in a total blurr. He was only dimly aware of his own body protesting his every movement, but instead of consuming him as the pain ought to, the only thing he could feel was a vast pit of nothingness within himself. And that unsettled him to no end, almost wishing he was able to face the agony he should be in. His eyes rarely left the ground, but he did not see a single step of his journey for his mind was stuck in a constant loop of replaying the distorted memories of his ordeal. He had no strength to try and shut them out, rather, he let them take control of his awareness, trying to make sense of the nightmare he lived through.

And yet, there were times he doubted his reality altogether, questioning if somehow it really was just a bad dream, because how was it that he was in the throes of despair last night and ready to flee this world from the grief and trauma that had wound itself so tightly around his heart…. but now he toiled down a muddy path completely void of any and all feelings?

Did it even happen?

It had to have been a dream.

But then again, how could a dream leave him feeling so insensible?

The day wore on and transitioned into evening, but the night's return came quickly as the clouds in the sky darkened. Soon, the heavens opened up, heavily dousing the already soaked landscape. Even the freezing-cold rain that seeped through his clothing could not break through to the elf, but strangely, with the downfall of the precipitation his emotions followed suit. Lost and confused, he could not help the tears that trailed down his cheeks. Though his companions cursed the deluge, the elf welcomed it, letting the storm mask what he could not and allowing his tears to be washed away by the rain.

As the showers became heavier, the company was hard pressed to find a suitable place to make camp for the evening. A grove of hemlocks provided the driest place around as the leafy needles splayed from their tightly knit branches creating a thick, dense canopy overhead. Very little water made its way to the ground and the earth was blanketed by the brown, dehydrated leaf litter that the mighty evergreens shed so frequently.

Legolas followed his friend's lead and did not question the place they picked out for the night. In fact, he barely noticed the area. Gimli dumped all of their gear on the ground with a crash, but he did not hear it. Aragorn and Gimli began to set up their encampment around him, but he did not see it. He felt dead to the world and stood in the middle of the camp until he felt a slight pull at his arm, bringing him out of his stupor.

"Legolas, come take some rest." Aragorn spoke easily as he stepped up next to the elf. Legolas only nodded his head mutley and allowed his friend to guide him to the base of a tree where the man created makeshift beds out of pine needles and the two bedrolls they had on hand.

The prince began to sink to the beds at his feet, but had difficulty in doing so. It seemed as though his pain wanted to make itself very clear at this moment and his injuries throbbed mercilessly with the shift in his position. His whole body was sore both from the abuse he had endured and the exertion he forced upon his already weakened state, but he did not have to struggle long as Aragorn came to his aid. The man helped seat his friend, patiently waiting for Legolas to get comfortable as he refused to sit properly and allow any pressure on his backside.

Aragorn grabbed his pack and drug it over to the elf, taking a seat himself on the same mat Legolas occupied.

"I'm going to clean your wounds. I do not have much more medicine, but I will use what I have to help with the worst of the pain. I will have access to more once we return." the man said, immersed in locating the same jars of balms he had picked out the night before.

"Where are we going?" the elf mumbled as he gazed out into the darkening woods about them. He hadn't even thought to ask where they were actually traveling, feeling a bit ashamed that he was blindly following to some unknown destination and leaving it up to his friends to figure things out.

Aragorn looked up from his pack, his brows creased as he mulled over the few spoken words from the day trying to recall if he had told the prince of their plan. He was certain that he did, but the question the elf asked countered that thought.

"...Minas Tirith." Aragorn supplied softly while regarding his friend, but instantly became worried. He noticed the prince's red and glassy eyes, evidence that Legolas had been crying not long ago and Aragorn failed to realize when it started. The man left his task for a moment, turning his full attention to the elf. He softly took Legolas' hands in his own.

"Legolas… Are you alright?" Aragron nearly whispered, but realized how stuipd that question was.

The elf turned his visage to the man, his haunted and open gaze was far from guarded at the moment. Aragorn was able to see into the prince's bared soul and it was plain to see the elf was lost and confused.

But he could also see that Legolas was scared, and the man's worry peaked.

"Legolas, what is wrong?"

"...Was it all just a dream, Strider?" the elf asked, almost begging for that to be the truth as he held the man's eyes in his, trying to search for the answer he feared to receive.

The lines of worry in the man's face softened sadly. He did not know what the prince was really asking - whether he wanted the man to lie to make him feel better or if he was actually confused with the events that transpired. Aragorn scooted closer to the elf unable to answer, but the elf looked away. He dropped his sights to his hands that were tenderly held in the man's calloused palms as Aragorn gave a reassuring squeeze of comfort.

Legolas saw the bandages that encircled his own wrists and the sight of them seemed to answer his question.

The numbness that had taken a hold of the prince was starting to ebb away with the unwanted truths only to be replaced by a swirl of viciousness that left him feeling like he was going insane. His vision blurred with the onset of fresh tears before the drops fell and he became disappointed with his own reactions. The elf pulled his hands from those of his friend and shoved them on to the cook of his lap, hiding what he did not wish to see.

Aragorn felt for his friend. He desperately wanted to comfort the prince and the man reached out to gather Legolas in his arms, but the elf resisted the contact and pulled back. Aragorn stopped instantly.

Despite how hard the elf was trying to remain impassive, the tell-tale signs of an oncoming emotional breakdown were clearly readable on the elf. The man watched as the prince held his breath to keep the sobs at bay and the way his lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

"Please, Legolas... talk to me. What can I do?" the man asked, watching a lone tear slip down the elf's bruised cheek. The prince wiped it away with hasty movements.

"I just want to be left alone, Aragorn." The elf whispered. The man heard the sincerity in the request but he also hated it. How could he just not care? Instead, the king gently reached out to hold the elf's face and pressed their heads together, a tactic he was fond of doing when trying to offer comfort.

"I do not wish to put you through what I had to do last night, but if you would allow me to, please let me clean your wounds. The ones on your back have me worried and I promise you will feel some relief if I can put fresh salve on your bruises."

The elf tensed up… but what did it really matter? Aragorn had already seen every bit of his shame and humiliation; it could not possibly get any worse than it had last night. Besides, being difficult only made for a long and unpleasant night. He already felt rotten and did not have the heart or will to fight back on it.

"Fine." the thick word was hard to speak, but it was all he could manage to say.

The man did not hover over the elf nearly as long as he did the night prior for he made sure the prince was well cared for during his initial healing treatments. But still, he cleaned the wounds, removing the stale healing lotion and placed a fresh coating of salve over them to ease as much discomfort as possible. Just as the previous night, the elf was uneasy under the healing touch and he spoke little.

Aragorn did as much as he could on the elven face and torso, but did not stray lower than that. He knew Legolas was in discomfort from the brutal wounds to his backside, but it proved to be a tricky subject to bring up. As a healer, the man knew leaving any injury unchecked could have fatal results, yet the resistance the elf had shown thus far with his abuse left Aragorn certain that further ministrations would not be allowed. Aragorn asked the elf a few questions regarding how he felt and the type of discomfort he was in, evaluating whether or not further medical attention would be required.

The elf flushed while he quickly answered Aragorn's questions regarding his intimate areas. He kept his eyes downcast as the shame building inside grated painfully on his emotions, but was thankful Aragorn stuck to his word and did not force him to be treated further.

Aragorn had half a mind to make another sleeping tea to ensure the elf got some rest, but he had no wish to betray his friend's trust as the elf was not exactly thrilled at being drugged the first time. Besides, they were in the middle of their travels and not totally protected. Should anything happen in the middle of the night, having to defend a semi aware elf would prove to be unwise nor did he want to delay their journey in the morning if Legolas required more sleep to abate the medicine he consumed - if he slept at all this night.

"Aragorn," Gimli called out from the fire. "Supper is ready." he stated and slopped a hefty spoonful of some kind of bean and rice mixture onto a travel weary plate.

"Will you eat something?" Aragorn turned back to the elf. "Please?"

"I am not hungry, Strider."

Aragorn pursed his lips. He knew the elf was going to say that. Worn out himself, the man did not have the energy to try and force the prince to take food. Instead he picked up the elf's cloak and draped it over his friend's shoulders as that small comfort seemed to work last time and he made his way back to the fire to take his meal.

Soon, the camp stilled and Aragorn and Gimli made preparations for the night watches as they consumed the meager meal. The dwarf volunteered to take the first half of the night and he made a comfortable seat around the fire to begin his watch. Aragorn cleaned the dishes and packed them away before he turned in for the night.

The empty pine mattress was a welcome sight and the king let out exhausted huff as he plopped onto his bed. As a king, he had become accustomed to a more regular sleep pattern and had not traveled in this manner much since the War of the Ring was over. Despite his exhaustion from his travels and the sleepless night prior, the pine needle mattress was proving to be less and less comfortable the longer he lay on it. The privileged and pampered life of a king had changed him so much in a seemingly little amount of time. This was once a very common way for him to sleep as he ventured out into the wilds when he was still just known as Strider, an unassuming ranger of the north or Estel, a human foster of Lord Elrond. He was more tired than he thought he ought to be and his mind wandered down happier times.

Aragorn pulled himself from his thoughts as he looked at the camp one last time. The dwarf was quietly digging through his belongings for some unknown object. Aragorn tilted his head to find the elf was still up and was fighting sleep.

"Legolas, *please* rest." the man whispered.

The elf turned a fatigued look upon the man and shook his head. Legolas was beyond weary, but he dared not sleep. Even in the waking world, the elf was haunted by viscous daydreams that his memories created and he was tormented by his emotions. While the elf wanted nothing more than to slip into blissful oblivion, he knew that the reprieve would not last long as nightmares would surely take over. He had no desire to relive a single moment of the horrific events and would not willingly put himself into a position where he could not control his emotions that would further his disgrace. No, he would rather suffer through a drained state of exhaustion rather than let his weakness further show, even around his closest friends.

The man reached out and placed a hand on the elf's knee, trying to bring the elf out of his thoughts.

With a sigh, Legolas shook his head one more time.

"I will not find rest tonight, Aragorn." His voice was just above a whisper.

Aragorn did not have much more energy as the hands of sleep clutched him and began to drag him under. The man let out a yawn.

"Legolas, do not overtax yourself. Please promise me you will at least *try* to get some rest?"

The elf pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I will," the elf lied, but it was lost on the man.

With that, Aragorn curled up and within minutes, the man was fast asleep.

To Be Continued...

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