Legolas stopped by the kitchen and informed the cooks that bread, fruit, and water were to be taken to the newly occupied 'guest room', then went to the cleaners and told them to take hot water, plain soap and any clothing they could find to fit a ridiculously thin, seven-and-a-half-foot man there, too. Sighing with regret that the Ranger had put his father in such a foul temper, he returned to the Throne Room to give his report before the king could begin yelling for him to 'come forward immediately!' and 'why hadn't he informed his king of the raiding party's success when he arrived?'.

Thranduil looked surprised to see him back so soon. "Why are you back here? You were supposed to be seeing to our guest!"

"Our prisoner, you mean. He's just fine, my lord. I thought perhaps you might like to know how the spider-nest raid went."

"Oh. Yes," Thranduil said, rather flustered. "Continue."

"We found the nest early yesterday morning. There were three dozen spiders in it. We surrounded it and shot twenty-seven of them before they attacked us. We would have been overwhelmed if Lord Aragorn had not intervened and slain six of the creatures. We killed the rest and brought him back with us to petition the right to pass through your forest."

Thranduil had been nodding just as lazily as Legolas had been speaking--they went through this routine often enough--right up until his son had mentioned Aragorn's intervention. Legolas's stress of the Ranger's nobility irritated the elf king, but he found the man's obvious weaponry skills to be a bit disturbing, if not far-fetched. "Six?" he queried, cocking an eyebrow at his son.

"Yes, my lord. He shot three and then attacked the others directly."

"And he was not injured at all?" Thranduil was beginning to get profoundly worried that he may have bit off more than he could chew in waylaying this particular traveler. He, too, had seen the anger turning Aragorn's eyes to cold steel.

"No, my lord. Not a scratch." Legolas could see his father getting nervous, and resisted the urge to snicker. The elf prince's brief conversations with the Ranger had convinced him that though quiet, somewhat grim, and posessing a wit that was often quite exasperating, Aragorn was essentially a very good-hearted individual. He'd actually found himself rather liking the strange man. "If it would please you, Father, I would be happy to take him to the border myself, tomorrow."

Thranduil merely waved a hand at him and said, "We shall see, we shall see. Go now, and don't be late for dinner, you know how it vexes your mother."

Rolling his eyes, Legolas bowed and left.

Three days later, he poked his head in the door of the Ranger's room, intending to ask if he needed anything. Aragorn was curled up, far smaller than anyone of his height had any right to be, in the middle of the bed, reading a book and eating one of the apples he seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of. He glanced up as the elf entered, then went back to his book, but not before Legolas had seen the pain in his silver eyes, and the rather haggard look on his face.

"Are you all right?"

"No, I am not. Being locked up in a hole for several days tends to make me rather ill."

Legolas wasn't sure exactly what to say about that; the caves had never really bothered him. He preferred to be outside, but that was because his father was less inclined to chase him down and give him something to do if he was not readily available. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Let me out."

"Out of the room?"

"What good does it do to go from one hole to a different hole? I want out of this infernal cave altogether."

"I can't do that. The king controls the gate."

"Then I suppose you can just let me out of the room and I'll get myself out of the cave."

The elf prince was faintly amused at the idea of someone escaping from his father's fortress. "Really?" was all he could bring himself to say without laughing at the absurdity of it. His amusement died instantly at the look Aragorn gave him.

"I've gotten out of worse. Besides, wasn't there a group of dwarves a few years ago that snuck out with the barrels you send downriver?"

"So, you are just going to stuff yourself inside of a barrel, then?"

The Ranger raised an eyebrow at his sardonic tone. "I could." Looking at him curled up on the bed like a cat, the elf almost believed him. "But no, I am not going to get in a barrel--how would I put the lid on?--I am just going to jump out the trapdoor and swim."

"There's a grate at the end of the tunnel."

"Does it go all the way to the bottom of the river?"

"Well, I...I don't know, but..." Aragorn gave him a look that said, Well then, got anything else to say?

Legolas glared at the Ranger; this conversation was beginning to put him in a bad mood. "I offered to take you to the border, but Father seems to think that we can't possibly go before the Midsummer Feasting. Apparently, it would be rude not to 'invite' you."

"Tell him you passed on the invitation, and I declined. I refuse to sit around, underground, for three more days, just for a feast I could always come back to next year. Or go to at home."

"Fine. I will tell him. Pound on the door and scream if you need anything."

"Of course." Aragorn was forced to lift his book a bit higher to hide his smile as the elf stomped out in a most un-princely fashion and slammed the door.

The next morning, Thranduil sent Legolas to fetch the 'guest'. He wanted to try and get the message, or at least who it was from and for, out of the Ranger before he was forced to let him go. He sighed at that depressing thought. He would have liked to make the man stay for a while, not much news made it this far into the Wood and all elves liked a good tale. But, he was going to have to release Aragorn soon, as it was not a good idea to anger Lord Elrond by kidnapping one of his children, even a foster son, and locking up the future King of Gondor was probably a bad idea as well.

"He's gone."

Legolas's mild statement took Thranduil by surprise. He looked blankly at his son for a moment then managed to stammer, "He's what?"

"Gone, my lord. His room is empty, all of his things are missing, and no one has seen him since Remani took him dinner last night."

Rangers, Thranduil thought irritably. I hate Rangers. "Search the caves," he said dejectedly, knowing it would do no good; Aragorn was long gone.

Aragorn raised his face to the sun, deeply inhaling the fresh morning breeze, inwardly laughing at the elves who were no doubt scrambling around the caves looking everywhere for him. Smiling, he stretched his long legs toward the Lonely Mountain.