"Aragorn watched the tree fall and he felt as if it would take the tree ages to fall, although it took barely a minute. Twigs, needles and sparks fell down on them, sizzling on their wet clothing and skin. With wide eyes, Aragorn watched the water level drop rapidly. It took but a few minutes for the riverbanks to be visible and the water cease to flow.

And the fire still kept coming."

Sitting in the mud and clutching Legolas' still form to his chest, Aragorn stared around. The fire had reached the river, eating away on the scrubs and trees all around them. With the protecting water gone, Aragorn felt the heat of the flames on his skin and the bite of the smoke in his lungs. He coughed painfully; Breathing was becoming difficult.

A gust of wind suddenly blew hot ashes right at him, and Aragorn ducked low, placing his arms over Legolas's face to protect him. The heat of the wind and the flames made him feel as if he was being roasted alive. Coughing once more, Aragorn slowly lifted his head. All around him the forest was on fire, and he knew that in but a few minutes the dried out part of the river would be taken over by the flames as well. He had to act, and quickly so. He knew that the huge tree had blocked the water of the river, but that could only mean that it was filling the river before this dam. If he could reach that part of the river, maybe the water would be deep enough to protect them from the fire.

Taking a deep breath and trying not to choke on the ash he inhaled despite the wet cloth before his nose and mouth, Aragorn grabbed Legolas under the arms and hoisted him into a sitting position. Legolas moaned softly, but did not wake. Not having the time to coax Legolas to full awareness, Aragorn made sure that the cloth was still in place over the elf's mouth and nose, before he crouched down, wrapped one of Legolas's arms around his shoulders, and climbed to his feet with Legolas over his shoulders.

At first he swayed and threatened to collapse; his ankle hurt horribly and Legolas's wet clothing seemed to double his weight. But Aragorn would not give up so easily; he bit his lip and steadied himself as much as he could, before he took another deep breath.

The climb up the bank seemed to take hours. Legolas's weight soon made it impossible for Aragorn to actually walk, and so he more dragged them up the bank on his hands and knees. The hot, burned earth hurt his skin, but Aragorn knew that he could not stop if he wished them to survive this. Halfway up the bank, a new gust of hot wind washed over them, nearly knocking him to the ground. Coughing and wheezing, Aragorn wiped a hand across his watering eyes. Never before had he felt that afraid.

The gust of hot wind passed, leaving the air full of ash and sand. Still coughing, Aragorn reached the top of the bank and used a rock to climb unsteadily to his feet once more. From his new position, he could see that the tree had blocked the river, but that indeed water was collecting behind the thick trunk, like it would behind a dam. New hope flared in his heart. If they could just reach the river, they could perhaps flee the flames until the fire had passed.

Tightening his hold on Legolas, Aragorn stumbled alongside the river towards the mighty tree that had fallen. His feet dragged over the ground, stepping into smaller fires and smoldering grass. His clothing and hair steamed, and soon he felt the hot earth and burning twigs smolder his thin leather boots.

It took him but a few minutes to reach the part of the river where the water was collecting, but to Aragorn it felt like a lifetime. Coughing and sweating, he stopped at the bank of the river, searching for a save way down. Suddenly, his ankle sent a fierce pain up his leg, and with a chocked scream he lost his hold and together with Legolas he toppled down the bank and into the water.

While the water in the river had been blessedly cool, the water here was warm and tasted like liquid ash, but Aragorn did not care. Making sure that Legolas's head was above the water, he moved into the middle of the river, hoping that the flames would not reach them there. Sending a prayer to the Valar, he hugged Legolas close, needing to feel the elf near him, even if he was unresponsive…and waited.

Aragorn closed his eyes against the heat and the glare of the fire that was now all around him. Even the air seemed to be on fire, and breathing was almost impossible. Legolas lay still unconscious in his arms, and Aragorn tried to keep the elf covered by the water of the river. Slowly, the water level rose, carrying them closer towards the flames, and Aragorn hoped that the fire would have moved on before the water reached the upper part of the bank.

Suddenly, Aragorn heard a loud noise behind him, like a horde of running mumakil. Confused and frightened, he turned his head to peek through the branches of the fallen log. The sight that met him shocked him to the core. Without further thought, he pushed Legolas under the water, took a deep gulp of the biting air and dived under the surface, too. Only a moment later, a red ball of fire rushed across the river, making the surface steam and even bubble in places.

From under the water, Aragorn looked up at the orange surface of the water, feeling helpless and immensely afraid. There was nothing but fire above him; if he surfaced, he would be burned immediately, not to mention that there would be no air to breathe. He felt Legolas beside him, and with a pang of fear he realized that Legolas had not had the chance to fill his lungs with air before he had pushed him under the surface. Elves could hold their breaths longer than humans, but what good did this do now?

If Aragorn blackened out, Legolas would float to the surface of the river, where he would die in the flames. Resolutely, Aragorn held Legolas tighter and tried to calm his racing heart. He must not black out! If he did, Legolas would die too.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

"We need to get closer!" Glorfindel yelled above the noise of the fire and pointed at the thick dark clouds that rose high into the air above the forest.

The elves had reached the outskirts of the part of the forest that was ablaze, and they could feel the heat and the rush of the flames. Immediately, they had begun to dig aisles, hacking into the earth with shovels and axes. By building aisles they would create a broad part of forest ground where no plants grew, therewith taking away the food the fire needed to exist. But, it was hard work and the fire was coming closer and closer.

"We cannot!" Elrond called over to his friend, wiping his sooth covered face with the sleeve of his shirt. "The fire is too close and we would never be able to stop it. We need to stop it here!"

Glorfindel grimaced and glanced towards the forest, where the fire flickered eerily red and orange. Every now and then the wind blew hot ashes at them, and every elf was covered with ash and soot. Thinking, Glorfindel turned back to Elrond, "There is a river close by. Maybe we could use it as a natural barrier."

Elrond thought for a moment, but then he shook his head, "I doubt that we would reach it in time. And furthermore, look where the fire has spread already. It must have reached the river by now and overtaken it."

After a long pause, Glorfindel lifted his axe, "Then let us hope this aisle will be enough to stop the fire." And with that, he brought his axe down into the dry earth, removing plants and grass.

A few feet away, Elladan and Elrohir were helping other elves to uproot young trees and saplings. They would be a perfect fodder for the fire, and although it hurt the elves to fell trees, they knew that it was necessary to protect their homes. They had just felled a young birch, when the wind picked up suddenly.

It blew out of the forest with such a force that Elladan turned around quickly to protect his face. The wind was hot and loud, and when it ended, Elladan felt as if his shirt was smoldering. A quick look showed him that indeed, there were little holes in his tunic that were still smoldering slightly.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to gaze at the forest. Most of the elves had stopped working and were staring into the trees with looks of horror on their faces. For a moment, the only thing they could hear was the crackling of the fire and the air seemed to be almost windless. Taking a step forwards, Elladan frowned. What did this mean?

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back and to the ground. Around him he could hear the screams of the other elves and the loud command of his father to retreat. A second later, a boiling hot wind rushed over them, so hot and fast that Elladan buried his head in his hands and had to hold his breath. He felt another elf beside him, the one who had dragged him to the ground, and when the hot wind did not stop, he began to pray silently.

To Elladan, the wind seemed to last for an eternity. His hair and clothing fluttered in the strong blast, and his clothing was getting to hot that the skin on his arms and back began to redden and hurt. The noise was so loud that Elladan wished he was able to cover his ears, but he had buried his face in his arms and hands to protect it. The elf beside him shifted closer until they touched, and Elladan felt a bit of hope surge through him. At least he was not alone.

The rush of the fire seemed to never stop, but in reality it took only a few minutes until the boiling wind vanished. Coughing and shaking, Elladan lifted his head from his arm and looked around blearily. All around him the green of the grass had vanished and nothing but burned and smoldering grass and earth was left. Coughing once more and wiping his eyes that watering from the still hot air, Elladan gazed at the elf by his side.

He was not surprised to see a disheveled and bleary eyes Elrohir crouch beside him. His younger brother's clothing was smoldering in places and his hair was singed, but otherwise he seemed alright. In a spontaneous whim, Elladan wrapped his arms around his younger brother and help him close. For a moment, they stayed like that, but then the yells and screams of the other elves made them release each other.

Looking around, they could see that many of the elves had not been able to clear the area before the hot wind had come, and the elves were climbing to their feet, dousing burning sleeves and hair here and there. All around them, what had been left of the vegetation was lost.

Grabbing Elrohir's hand, Elladan climbed to his feet, dragging his brother with him. He could see their father hastening towards them, Glorfindel on his heels. Both elder elves looked relieved to see them alive and whole.

"Elrohir! Elladan! Valar, I was so worried." Elrond embraced them for a moment, before he quickly steered them away from the smoldering forest.

"Ada, what was that?" Elladan asked, coughing slightly. Glorfindel handed him a flask of water before he answered for Elrond.

"That was a crown fire, Elladan."

"A crown fire?" Elladan asked, looking bewildered.

"Aye. A crown fire means that the fire spread through the crowns of the trees and not via the low bushes and shrubs. The fire jumps from crown to crown, fuelled by the wind itself creates. It is extremely hot and faster than any creature can run. A crown fire is maybe the most dangerous sort of wildfire there is. You two were very lucky that the fire just brushed you and did not go overhead of your position." Glorfindel eyed the forest for a moment, then nodded grimly. "But a crown fire also has its advantages. It eats away at the trees very quickly, leaving nothing to burn."

"Indeed." Elrond said. "If we hurry, maybe we can widen the aisle to stop the ground fire, now that boughs of the trees are gone."

And so, the elves went back to work, hoping that they would be quick enough to stop the approaching ground fire that was eating away on the bushes, grass and roots that had not been destroyed yet.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aragorn couldn't breathe. His lungs were screaming at him to open his mouth and gulp in fresh air, his heart was beating rapidly and a painful stitch had developed in his left side, just below his rips. The urge to breathe got stronger and stronger, and Aragorn had to hook his arm around a branch of the fallen tree to keep him from surfacing. The red fire ball was still visible through the water, and Aragorn knew that he could not yet surface.

Slowly, black dots appeared in his line of vision, increasing by the second. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and a dull pounding started in his head. Beside him, Legolas floated senselessly in the water, his blond hair streaming around his face. The sight was all Aragorn needed to fight the urge to breathe a bit longer still, but he knew that sooner or later he would either surface or drown.

Only a few moments later, the black dots changed into a red haze, and Aragorn felt his grip on Legolas lessen. Slowly, his arms and legs began to go numb and lose all strength. The urge to breathe was so strong now that he thought his lungs must burst!

Thousands of thoughts rushed through his mind, while the red haze intensified. The most prominent thought was that he would die, and Legolas with him. A stab of pain went through his heart, and had he not been under water, he would surely have cried now. It had all been in vain. The rush through the forest, the jump into the river…it had all been for nothing.

Slowly, Aragorn's hold on the branch of the tree became weaker. He knew that he would drown any moment now. So, he took the only chance he had. Kicking away from the ground weakly, Aragorn moved towards the surface.

The moment his head broke through the water, Aragorn opened his mouth to fill his lungs with air. But, there was barely air left to breath. All around him was nothing but fire. The flames immediately licked at his face and hair, and with but fraction of air in his starved lungs Aragorn dived under water again.

His face stung and burned even under water, and with wide eyes he looked up at the red surface of the water. His lungs felt burned from the inside, and could feel something metallic on his tongue. Weakly, he took a hold of Legolas, hoping that he had been able to snatch enough air to keep under water for as long as he would have to.

But after merely a few moments the red dots reappeared, filling his vision. Aragorn gazed at Legolas for a moment, before he closed his eyes. If he would have to surface into that red inferno again to save Legolas, he would.

And with a prayer to the Valar to help him, he kicked away from the ground and broke the surface.

To be continued.