Chapter 34

The morning dawned without incident and Aragorn rebuilt the fire and set a pan of water to boil before moving to wake his companions. Elrohir had woken him for his turn on watch far later than he should have but although he had protested at the time, his body had welcomed the extra rest after the stress of the past few days.

After reporting that all was quiet the younger twin had quickly moved to the bedroll he had unfurled earlier in readiness and gracefully folded himself down onto it to lay on his back, his head cushioned upon his pack, his gaze fixed thoughtfully into the branches of the trees opposite.

"Legolas still rests in yonder oak." The twin had muttered faintly before falling into reverie.

Aragorn's eyes had narrowed at the hint of distrust in Elrohir's voice as he had wondered briefly why his brother had felt the need to point that out then looked over to where he had watched the elf himself earlier disappear into the foliage, even though he knew his eyes would be unable to spot the elusive form. Legolas was nigh impossible to see when sheltered in one of his beloved trees in the best of light and although the sky had lightened a little as dawn approached, it remained dark enough to be still termed night in his eyes. It was good the elf remained sleeping, after all he had suffered, the least they could do was allow him time to heal.

Raising himself to stand the young man had stretched and stamped his feet to bring life back to a body that had still wished it were sleeping, then begun an initial circuit around the camp, allowing his senses to become familiar with the sights and sounds of the night as he had settled into his watch.

Now watching as his brothers came to wakefulness he noticed the way Elrohir's eyes went straight to the tree he had been gazing upon so thoughtfully before he slept and could not help but wonder what was going through his mind.

Pulling a packet of herbs from the top of his pack, where he had carefully stowed them in readiness for making the morning's tea, he heard a soft rustle and looked up just in time to see Legolas drop from the tree with a smile. The wood elf looked almost self-satisfied if a little tired and for a moment the young man wondered if Elrohir was right to be concerned about their friend but then a sense of guilt once more washed over him. That his friend should be the last to wake was a mark that Legolas was not fully recovered from his injuries and his contentment was probably no more than the lingering link between elf and tree. Moving back to the fire Aragorn removed the pan of water which had begun to boil and tossed in a handful of herbs before placing it on a small flat rock to steep whilst he began to share out their last few pieces of lembas, augmenting it with some dried fruit and nuts with which they would break their fast before heading out on their way once more. He would leave the worrying to Elrohir. It would not be long before Legolas was home and then everything would be just fine.

Anor must have been just past her zenith when next the quartet stopped and although Legolas would never have iterated the fact, he was glad of the rest. Standing, his left shoulder gently resting against the rough bark of an elm, watching the brothers as they each attempted to see who could urinate the furthest, he allowed his mind to wander back to the previous evening and smiled as a frisson of pleasure pulsed through his body.

He could still feel the trail of fire as it blazed across his buttocks, remembered his body writhing with each new flaming brand. He had been suspended between two trees, spread apart, his ankles and wrists bound with coarse rope, naked and it had been an ecstasy of agony.

As he had knelt before his master, willing him to take the offered blade, there had been a long moment of silence in which he had wondered if he would be rejected and sent back to complete his job without even a word but as soon as he had felt the knife eased from his grip he knew he would be granted relief. What had followed had been a masterful lesson in knife work that he would never forget, even should he wish to and his breeches tightened as the memory came flooding back.

"Legolas… Legolas?"

The elf came back to the present with a start as he felt the hand upon his shoulder.

"Mellon nin?"

Grey eyes swam into focus and he realized the human was before him, staring into his face with a worried expression.

"'tis not like you to be caught unawares." Aragorn's voice was full of concern as his fingers began to gently probe the elf's previously wounded shoulder.

"I am fine." Legolas stepped back a pace, abruptly brushing the young man's hand away. "I was simply thinking, of home." He added after a small pause and began to walk away addressing the twins curtly as he passed them by. "Have we not lingered here long enough?"

The three brothers shared a wry glance then quickly hurried after the princes retreating figure. Elrohir narrowing his gaze thoughtfully as they went.

~o~

Walking briskly alongside his great war horse the Witch King smiled inwardly as he recalled the previous night's events. To have the elf return to him in such a way had been most satisfactory and when the beautiful creature had laid himself bare and begged so needfully how could he have refused. He pictured again the moonlit, alabaster skin shuddering so delightfully as he had trailed the flat blade of the knife over its contours teasingly. Staring into eyes darkened with want as he had circled each nipple with the pointed tip, drawing fine red lines but not quite breaking the skin. The final silent scream and arch of the elf's back as he had, at last drawn blood in two crimson slashes across the perfect rounded cheeks of his quivering behind, bringing explosive release and leaving him sated and limp in his bonds.

He sighed, feeling again the frustration at not being able to fully partake of the archer's glorious assets. To run fingers through his golden hair, to feel the lithe body writhe under his hands caress, to taste the honeyed velvet of plump, rosy lips. A low chuckle left his own. It would not be long now though. The dark lord would soon grant his reward.

Stopping abruptly he remained in thought for a moment then swiftly mounted his still limping horse. He needed haste now and if he had to run the horse into the ground so be it. There were others hidden away back at the fortress. He saw again the picture of the elf. Standing, swaying before him in the aftershock of his pleasure, renewing his vow of obedience and swearing to bring the rule of Mirkwood under his masters control, once the king had been dispatched and he stood in his place.

Setting his heels to the reluctant horse's sides the Witch King urged it into a canter. He needed to gather his army as quickly as possible. The realm and its new king, would soon be his for the taking.

~o~

After another uneventful days travel Aragorn was beginning to look forward to sleeping in a nice soft bed once more. Although he enjoyed life as a ranger, the sense of freedom as he wandered hither and thither across the land and the peaceful glow of the stars over head at night it was good to return to civilization every now and then. To bathe in warm, scented water, sleep undisturbed in comfort and enjoy the safety of a home's warm cocoon renewed and invigorated him, ready for his next foray into the wild.

"Spiders!"

He was brought back roughly from his daydream as Legolas shouted out the warning then leapt into the canopy above, an arrow nocked and ready to fly. Without thought his sword was whisked from its scabbard and the trio of brothers moved together into their customary triangular formation.

Nothing else moved and they stood, listening intently, eyes scanning the trees, never doubting the wood elf's heightened perceptions. If he said there were spiders then it would not be long before the foul creatures appeared.

An eternity passed during which Aragorn hardly dared breathe and suddenly they were there. Loud clicks and hisses filled the air and the trees seemed to burst into life as long, jointed legs waved through the branches, followed by huge, black, bulbous bodies and heads with snapping jaws and large multifaceted eyes that mirrored the scene before them tenfold at least.

Arrows began to rain down from above from where the young man realised Legolas had stationed himself but he dared not look to see where they fell as one of the huge beasts descended upon him, its jaws working furiously, the long sharp fangs within dripping with poison. His arm moved instinctively, swinging his sword up then down to slash across the side of the creatures face and it screamed wildly as thick, white jelly burst from three of the mirrored facets in its eye. Rearing back the beast exposed its soft underparts and Aragorn's sword continued its journey, flowing effortlessly back up to thrust its point up into the vulnerable throat, severing the connection between brain and body then pulling out as the creature collapsed, twitching, to the ground. There was no time to think about the kill however as the next spider was already upon him and Aragorn began the deadly dance once more.

The elf watched from above as the brothers fought below. He could not but help admire their style and skill as they fought as a unit, each guarding the other in a manner that spoke volumes of their mutual love and respect. A slight pang of remorse entered his heart as he carefully took aim and fired another arrow down into the melee below, grazing the behind of one of the great creatures and causing it to turn about to seek its revenge. First in its sights was the older twin and the wood elf felt his heart begin to race as the spider angrily advanced for the kill. Bow held loosely in his hand he watched the skilled peredhel flow gracefully from one move to the next, his sword an extension of his arm as he twisted, thrust, turned and stabbed out first taking the spiders forelegs out from under it, then plunging the blade down through the thick, skull and into its brain. Releasing a sigh he licked his lips and raised his bow once again, more of the huge creatures were beginning to swarm into the area and as good as the brothers were, they would not be able to hold them all off for much longer. He smiled slyly, this attack could be just what he needed. A few, well aimed arrows now and his life would be much easier when he returned to the kings halls. Nocking another he took aim then cursed under his breath as the air was suddenly filled with the cries and calls of musical voices and deadly accurate projectiles began to rain down upon the scene below.

Elrohir looked up at a lyrical warning came from above moments before an arrow whistled past his ear to land, deeply embedded within the mouth of the creature before him and was followed by three more in rapid succession. The spider screamed and flailed its head from side to side as if attempting to dislodge the projectiles then collapsed in a heap as a green clad figure landed neatly upon its back and thrust a long blade forcefully between body and thorax. The young twin barely had time to blink before the strange elf nodded, retrieved his blade, then leapt down to run beneath another of the great beasts as it landed from above, slicing his blade up and along its soft underbelly as he went.

Suddenly the air was filled with arrows and swift moving figures as elves seemingly appeared from nowhere, their forms a blur as they swiftly and precisely moved to dispatch the swarm of creatures that had been threatening to overwhelm the brothers only moments before. Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief and turned to scan the area for his brothers. Aragorn was leaning against an elm, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gulped for air but otherwise appeared unharmed. Elladan however, was still engaged in battle, his sword no longer shining, but covered in gore that spattered and splashed onto the surrounding greenery with every swing. Taking a step forward, intent upon aiding his twin he stopped suddenly as a familiar, bare chested figure dropped from the canopy above, his long knives held point down, to land on his knees upon the spider's bulbous head. The creature bucked and screamed as the twin blades were forced through its skull but the elf hung on, riding out its death throes until it finally collapsed into a tangled heap at Elladans feet.

"Well." Legolas laughed, sliding down from his perch. "That was fun."

~o~

"Nay, nay!"

Galion started from his light reverie as the king began to thrash within bed, tangling himself up in the silken sheets and mumbling with increasing agitation.

"Saes, saes, ion nin, 'tis I, 'tis your Ada. Do you not know me? Saes, Legolas, Saes."

Rising from his chair the butler stood and watched Thranduil, hesitant with uncertainty. Should he try to soothe his obviously troubled king, or should he go to hail the healer? In the end his heart overruled his head and he moved to seat himself on the edge of the bed, reached out and gently laid a trembling hand upon the restless figures shoulder, murmuring platitudes and nonsense words over and over in an effort to promote calm. It did not work, instead he found his ears ringing as with a strike, fast as a snake, Thanduil's right hand connected with the side of his head.

"Aie!" The accompanying call echoed around the room, "Legolas!"

With one final shout the king exploded into an upright position, his eyes wide with what Galion thought was fear and reached out his hand again, his time to take the butler around the throat in an iron grip.

"Sire!" The unfortunate elf tried to plead as his ability to breathe was inexorably removed.

"I can not…"

The pressure upon Galion's throat suddenly eased and he gulped down mouthfuls of air as a look of utter confusion settled over Thranduil's face.

"Galion?" The king's once strong, controlled voice now sounded lost and weak.

"Sire." Galion could only croak the word as he massaged his throat, his eyes wary and unsure.

"What?" Thranduil paused to gaze around the room before bringing his eyes to bear upon his friend once more. "Oh, Valar."

Confusion gave way to recognition as the king looked down at his hands then back at the dark bruises beginning to form around the butlers neck.

"Aie, Galion." He reached out his eyes filling with pain as his friend flinched away from his touch. "Forgive me my friend, I did not mean…"

"I know sire." The younger elf interrupted, his voice hoarse and cracked. "You were…dreaming."

"Dreaming." Thranduil repeated as if still in the midst of the dream.

For a moment each stared at the other in silence and Galion wondered at how young and vulnerable the king suddenly appeared.

"Yes, my king." He smiled softly. "And I am only too pleased to see you awake again, it has been too long."

"Long? … What?"

It almost broke the butlers heart to see the usually stern, collected face before him filled with bewildered uncertainty.

"Do you not remember sire?" He whispered, reaching for a glass of water that had been left by the bedside in case the king awoke and taking a sip in an effort to soothe his burning throat.

"You called out for Legolas then collapsed some days ago," He took another sip before continuing. "Since then you have barely moved until this past two or three days when you have become increasingly agitated, shouting and thrashing about in the bed as if pursued by orcs."

He attempted a laugh to lighten the mood but it felt flat and wrong as Thranduil continued to stare with uncomprehending eyes, his fingers twisting the bedsheets into tight knots that seemed to mirror the feeling in the butler's guts.

"A drink sire?"

Galion had a sudden urge to look away, he could not stand to see his proud king reduced in such a way as this any longer.

"Water?" He asked as he walked towards a cupboard in the corner of the room upon which rested a pair of decanters and half a dozen crystal goblets.

"Wine."

The response was instinctive and sure and with a smile the butler poured out two glasses of the ruby liquid and moved back to the bed. It seemed that his love for dorwinion was one thing that the king would never forget.

"My thanks."

Thranduil took the offered glass and leaned back against the ornate, oaken headboard behind him his body trembling with even that small effort.

"You need to rest sire. I…."

"It would appear I have rested long enough." With a wave of his hand the king cut off his friends worried words. "I should…" His own words tailed off as his eyes fixed upon the bright liquid as it eddied in the goblet he was swirling absently in his hand.

"Legolas." The whispered name was barely loud enough for Galion to hear but the sudden comprehension in Thranduils face spoke volumes. "It was Legolas."

Tears began to flow down his pale, drawn cheeks.

"He…"

Galion felt he had never seen such anguish drawn on a face before as that which he now saw etched upon that of his king.

"He killed me."

A/N

I am so, so sorry for keeping you waiting this long but R/L has just been a bag of sh** for the last couple of weeks and I ended up re writing this three times before I was happy with it.

Anyway. I hope you don't all hate me too much for the delay ( and for the way this is going) but I'm hoping that things will start to settle at home soon.

Thanks again to all you wonderful readers and special mentions as ever to my lovely reviewers - bettsam0731, Beagoldi, NirCele, Obsidianglasses, and my old friend Legolaslover2003 and to the guest called earthdragon I'm glad you like the story and I'm sorry if you find the change of scene/perspective confusing but I do put in breaks between them to try and help.

Ok guys. That's all for now. Don't forget to drop me a review and hopefully it won't be as long before the next installment. :)