Chapter 29

Pain rushed through him as he watched his friend fall, impaled by two of the arrows he had been taught by that same friend to fire with such precision. Blessing that training Aragorn discarded the bow in his hand as if it burned then ran after the projectiles, feet flying over the ground almost without touching it in his anxiety and dropped to kneel beside the prone figure, tears streaming down his cheeks as he saw the blood running from the wounds he had inflicted. Gazing into the elf's face he watched as confusion gave way briefly to recognition and thought he saw a brief flash of peace pass through the deep blue eyes before they fluttered closed.

"Diheno nin, Legolas, diheno nin, mellon. (Forgive me, Legolas, forgive me, friend). All will be well, gwador." The young man had not realized he was murmuring the words over and over whilst smoothing his hand over the golden head, his healer's instincts momentarily overruled by guilt.

"Let me Estel." Soft words from his eldest brother accompanied a tug on his arm as Elrohir tried to pull him away to allow Elladan to reach the fallen wood elf.

"I had to. I had to do it. Please…" His voice, broke and sobbing Aragorn felt himself surrounded by a pair of strong arms.

"Iston, muindor, I know." Elrohir murmured soothingly as he held the young man tight, rubbing his hand gently up and down his trembling back. "You did well, Estel, you did well."

Watching his twin feel around the pair of shafts protruding from their friends shoulder with practiced fingers Elrohir felt the young man's shaking sobs begin to lessen and gently eased his grip.

"I need to help 'Dan, Estel."

"Aye." The young man sniffed sadly, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand as Elrohir moved to his brother's side, shrugged off his pack and began to empty out the various items he felt would be necessary. "Please, don't let him die."

"He will live Estel." Elladan's words were crisp and professional. "You shot well, muindor. The arrows penetrated naught but skin and muscle."

"But I still shot him." Aragorn replied casting his eyes down to his feet.

"You did what needed to be done, Estel." As he spoke Elladan gripped the shaft of one arrow tightly. "Are you ready muindor?"

He glanced at his twin who held a wadded cloth at the entry site with one hand whilst the other rested in the middle of the wood elf's chest in readiness for the restraint that may be necessary as the shaft was removed.

"Aye." Elrohir nodded.

Slowly but surely Elladan pulled the arrow free and as soon as it's tip broke the surface his twin pushed the cloth down onto the wound to staunch the blood that began to well anew. The wood elf twitched slightly but otherwise showed no response.

"One down." Elladan sighed. "One to go."

Aragorn moved to kneel beside his brothers and placed his hand over the wadded cloth. Elrohir looked up and as their eyes met they needed no words. With a short nod the half elf let go, leaving the young man to hold it in position and pulled another piece of cloth from his pack, folding it into a tight square so that they could repeat the process with the second arrow.

Once both projectiles had been removed Elladan began to use his water skin to flush the wounds.

"At least we do not have to worry about poison." He jested softly in an effort to ease Aragorn' distress and was pleased to see the weak smile that appeared on his human brother's face.

Taking the needle and thread that Elrohir had prepared in readiness, the elder twin then stitched both wounds carefully and neatly before covering them over with clean cloth and finishing off with a bandage. He wrapping whilst Aragorn held the wood elf tenderly off the floor slightly to allow easier access. Once done Elladan sat back on his heels, sharing a smile with his brothers.

"I have done what I can out here. 'Tis a good job he didn't wake." The eldest twin frowned down at the unconscious elf as he stood and stretched his back to ease out the stress induced ache. "We need to get him back to the halls quickly however and that is not going to be easy."

"Aye." Agreed Elrohir as he began stowing things away in his pack once more. "'tis a wonder he is still out too. Our young prince is not often bettered by a wound so easily."

"Indeed." Aragorn smiled gently down at the figure still cradled in his arms. "We needs make the most of it while we can." He eased the injured elf carefully back down to lay upon the ground. "I will search out some branches to make a cradle in which to carry him."

~o~

The witch king paced back and forth, his armored feet ringing out on the stone floor with each step he

took. A sense of unease hung over him and he could not shake it off. His pet should be making contact with the figure they had both seen slinking around the edge of the forest from their vantage point on the top of the tower soon and he could not help but wonder what was happening. Of course, having recognized it as one of the despised dark haired pair of peredhril orc hunters he realised that where one was, the other would not be far away but this was not the problem. He had seen what the wood elf was capable of, he could stand against many more than two opponents. In combat he was nigh unbeatable. No, it wasn't his fighting capabilities he worried about, it was his mind. If they should manage to break through the control so painstakingly wrought then the dark lord's plans would all come to naught and he would be the one to suffer.

That was not the only reason for his concern though. For all he cowered at the thought of what his lord would do to him should this scheme fail he ached at the thought of his own prospective loss. The elf had been so exquisite it had taken all of his control to do his lord's bidding and leave him physically untouched until after their plans had come to fruition but the closer they had got the more difficult it had been not to take his pleasure and he would not be denied now.

Making a decision the nazgul strode to the door of his room and swiftly exited, taking the stairs down to the lower levels. He was charged by his master not to leave the fortress himself unless at great need but he needed to know what was happening. Sending the group of orcs out after the elf should have eased his mind but he suddenly felt it was not enough.

Reaching the ground floor he marched outside and over to the stable which housed his huge black war horse, calling for the beast to be saddled as he went. He would take a ride through the forest himself and see what he could discover.

~o~

A dull, throbbing sensation gradually permeated the elf's fogged senses as he slowly began to gain awareness. Darkness surrounded him and panic surged within until he realized that it was due to his eyes being closed and not, as he had first thought, that he was back in the hated, dark cell once more. The fresh, outdoors sent proved that. Calming his overwrought mind he became conscious that he was laying on his back, tightly swaddled within a jolting, swaying cocoon and as awareness returned the pain began to swell through his right shoulder. Was this some new form of punishment from his master? He could not remember what he had done to merit it, but that didn't mean anything, he was used to long gaps in his memory now.

Listening intently he remained still, forcing the pain to the back of his mind and keeping his eyes closed in an effort to make sense of his surroundings. The jostling sensation told him that he was being carried although by whom he could not tell, only that their feet made little sound as they moved over the ground. Since waking he had heard no speech from his captors, for such he assumed them to be, but although there was a distinct smell of orc hanging in the air, he was puzzled as to their identity as those creatures usually made far more noise and did not usually wrap their victims to carry them, rather they would tie them and fling them over a shoulder to bounce uncomfortably upon hard, unyielding leather or metal armour. Of this he had had firsthand experience. So, if not orcs who? Elves never came this far from their king's halls. Men? He knew there was only one way to find out.

Carefully he cracked his eyes open, peering out through his lashes in an effort to see anything that may indicate where he was or who he was with. At first all was a blur of moving colours and shapes but as his eyes became accustomed to the light he began to make out the branches of trees as they passed overhead. He was in the forest then. He relaxed and allowed his head to loll slightly to one side with the swaying movement in the hope that he may spot one of his captors but without luck. There was none in view at present and he dared not move his head again in fear of alerting them to his lucidity. Flexing his muscles slightly he felt no bonds as such and realized that although snuggly wrapped in what appeared to be a blanket he was not constrained tightly enough to prevent escape and although he had no weapons to hand that he could tell, he was just as deadly with his bare hands so could fight his way out if needs be. With this in mind he decided to wait for the time being and see what transpired before making any moves. After all, it would be better to know exactly what and how many he was up against and the planning was almost as much fun as the execution when it came down to it.

Aragorn silently slipped between the trees a short distance ahead of his brothers and their unconscious burden. The three had decided that with their elven strength and resilience the twins would carry the makeshift litter carrying their injured friend whilst their human brother would be best served using the scouting talents honed by his time with the rangers of the north thus ensuring they ran into no danger on the trek back towards Thranduil's halls. Long they had debated how best Legolas would be treated and although they had been sorely tempted to make for Imladris and their fathers renowned skills, it had been decided that under the circumstances and keeping in mind the wood elf's reaction to the twins, it would be best to carry him back to familiar ground. Thranduil's healers after all, dealt with wounded warriors almost on a daily basis and many had first hand experience of dealing with dark poisons and injuries that went more than skin deep.

Although alert and wary the young man found his mind dwelling upon past events and the young elf now being carried along by his brothers. If he had not seen Legolas' face himself when first he spotted the twins he would not have believed it. The hatred etched upon those normally so calm and even tempered features was so alien in his beloved friend that he would have called anyone else liar for daring to say it had been so. A shiver ran down his spine. What horrors had been served upon his friend in that dark, forbidding place now called Dol Guldur? He stopped briefly as a rustling sound came from underneath a small bush ahead. Eyes fixed he took a step closer, taking care to avoid a small twig that may snap under his foot, thus giving warning of his approach, then another and another. The sound increased then, just as he was almost close enough to the bush to pounce on any that may be hiding there a large, brown rat scampered out, dragging a dead bird in its mouth, and proceeded to rush off between Aragorn's feet and into the forest. He breathed out in a sigh and smiled to himself wryly. Spooked by a rat! At least his brothers hadn't been here, they would have teased him mercilessly with it if so.

Moving on he began to hear the gentle murmur of water over rocks and sure enough after only a short distance further came upon a stream as it meandered its way along a narrow bed cutting between the trees. He knelt and reached out to dabble his fingers, letting the cool water play over them briefly before cupping his hand to bring a little up to his lips to taste. It was clear and untainted though a brief loamy aftertaste lingered in his mouth. Shrugging his pack from his back he decided to wait there for his brothers, a short rest would do no harm and at least they would be able to replenish their water skins. Quickly he began to gather wood and set a fire, he had seen neither sight nor sound of anyone else in the forest and if he kept it small there should be no problem, a hot drink would do them all good anyway. In no time he had the fire alight and he looked up just as his brothers became visible through the trees.

The pain in his wounded shoulder was becoming harder to ignore as the elf was carried along through the forest and he began to hope that it would not be long before his captors decided they needed a break. He wanted to judge the damage for himself and the urge to probe the area was difficult to ignore, it did not feel poisoned but you could never be too sure. Memories had begun to come slowly back as he had been lying still, feigning unconsciousness and although he had no firm recollection of the fight he remembered orcs, a feeling of pure hatred and the shock of being shot. To have heard a voice would possibly have helped but as yet there had still been no verbal communication at all from those around him. He suppressed a groan as the throb in his shoulder increased its intensity and bit the inside of his lip hard, hoping that none noticed the slight movement.

"Ah, Estel."

The words came out of nowhere, almost startling the elf into opening his eyes.

"That is indeed a welcome sight." The voice continued. "Carefully now, we don't want to bump him too much."

The elf caught the scent of wood smoke as he felt himself lowered to the ground, the voice tugging at his memory. Obviously his captors had met up with another party and it sounded planned. He only hoped this did not increase their numbers too much, with his injured shoulder he would be at a slight disadvantage when it came to a fight.

"Has he not awoken yet?" This, different voice held a note of concern and the elf could not help but wonder why its owner should sound genuinely worried about his health.

"Nay." This was again the first voice he had heard and its familiarity was beginning to gnaw at his mind intensively. "Although I should have expected him to before this, our young princeling is not usually so easily subdued."

Sudden recollection flooded into the elf with the familiar form of address. Of course! It had been that traitorous pair of half breeds that had taken him down! The fight came flooding back into his mind as he felt someone lay a hand upon his forehead and it took all of his considerable will power not to flinch from the touch. He remembered now, standing at the top of the tower, his master sending him off in pursuit, the battle with the orcs, then the moment he had found the pair he hunted and their ensuing physical conflict. All went flashing before his eyes up until the very moment he had been shot. His mind stopped with that thought. Who had shot him? Both peredhril had been within his sight at the time and both had their swords held firmly in their hands. Neither had a bow. He tried to view the scene again as he allowed the vague murmur of voices continuing their conversation around him to fade into the distance, blotting the noise out in his attempt to work out what he had missed. There had been a third, yes, he remembered now! A third, vague and shadowy person who had taken no part in the fight. A man! Why on earth would a man be traveling with the dark haired twins? The question stayed unanswered for the moment as he felt his cover being removed and a hand began to gently prod around his shoulder and upper arm, obviously feeling for signs of infection. An involuntary gasp left his mouth as the questing fingers pressed down over his wound and a split decision was made. In a blur of movement he grabbed out with his left hand, caught the others wrist and pulled, using the force to aid in swinging him upright and hanging on, twisted around his captor to come to stand behind him, his free arm firmly over the others neck in a forceful choke hold, wounded he may be, but he could still take on these hateful betrayers and win.

"Move and he dies!" He spat out to the astonished figure opposite whose sword had automatically swung up to point towards him, then grinned widely at his fear filled face as the tip fell before the blade was slowly sheathed and two hands were held out, palms up to indicate their peaceful intent.

"Legolas, please."

The elf sneered at the twin who had spoken, raking him with cold, unfeeling eyes.

"Quiet!"

He pulled his arm tighter across the throat of the one he held, delighting in the choking sounds this elicited and he began to back away, eyes darting around in an effort to see how many others were in the half elf's company.

"Leg…"

The wood elf snarled as the twin began to speak again, effectively cutting him off then half turned as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Too late. He felt a hard lump connect with the back of his head and all turned to black as he crumpled to the floor, releasing his captive as he went.

A/N

Ok, so it isn't going to be plain sailing for our friends is it. There's still a long way to go I'm afraid. I hope you can all bear with me on this. :)

Thanks to all you wonderful readers out there and please. Let me know what you think. Even if its just a couple of words. Sometimes it gets kinda lonely here with just me laptop for company :)

Special thanks to Estaron,bettsam0731,Obsidianglasses and NirCele for their continuing support. It's much appreciated guys :)