Hey! I am repeating myself, I know, but I just want to thank you for all your wonderful reviews! I love you all! Therefore, this will be an EXTRA LONG chapter. Next one will be the last!

Cretha Loesing: Oops. Perhaps I just mislead you a little :P

ElvesAreEpic: Well, I hope you enjoy them, just as I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

GRuth: An extra long chapter then, for you :P Rest assured, Dinemîn won't give you trouble any longer... I guess :P

Nourss: Here you got one! Oh, a canary! What's his/her name?

TheButterflyCurse996: Enjoy your last minutes with Dinemîn then, for I still have to figure out what to do with her :P

Hope you enjoy it!

He was dying.

O no – not that he was mortally wounded or something like that. He was just exhausted and famished. Every single spot –even those he wouldn't have guessed they existed- hurt. He barely could sleep without touching one of the spiny bars. And it was nearly impossible to lie perfectly still while sleeping. And so it was that every night – as far as he could count, there was neither sun nor stars to keep track of time- he woke up screaming and crying in pain, until it mercifully would ebb away.

That wasn't the worst part, though. It was the emptiness in his head. Not being able to remember his own name, not knowing whether there was anyone searching for, or even anyone who has missed you absence… The constant uncertainty harmed in more than the poison ever could.

He sighed in despair. His body was already giving signals that it couldn't take this much longer. Black spots danced before his eyes by every move he made, and he was so weak that he could barely sit upright. He knew that if he would take his tunic of, he would be able to see all of his ribs and perhaps some other bones he didn't know he had them. But he had no strength left to do so. Even more desperate then he needed rest, he needed food.

Food…

Dinemîn hadn't come by for ages. And when she came, she had only commanded that he would sing for her, without noticing how famished he looked. She was as a little child, full of admiration for her new bird, but not knowing how to take care for it. And there was no one else looking for this particular bird.
There was no use drowning in his despair. Instead, he unlocked a casket in his head and took out of it the only treasure he had in this dark cage.

The word aragorn.

It had come to him in the abyss of his amnesia, staying with him when he had forgotten everything. The soothing sound of the word had consoled him when the darkness of the cave seemed to close in on hem. Its presence had been an anchor when the pain had taken away every rational thought. Its syllables had softened the lingering pain that remained even when the poison had lost power.

Aragorn.

He knew it meant something. If he only could figure out what it was…

Sometimes, he imagined it was a star in the North, glimmering brightly in the dark cloak of the night. Other times, it was a tree murmuring a soft lullaby. It was a father, taken him in his arms after waking from a nightmare. It was a child, who with his curiosity and innocence washed away every dark thought. It was a friend, who stayed with him in every situation.

And he caressed it. It was a pearl, a golden coin, a gem, a treasure. Carefully, he turned it over and over in his head, and admired it.

"Fileg! Look what I found!" He bit back a groan. Dinmîn had come back from one of her explorations in the little corridors that run from this hall. There must be a cobweb of paths around this place. He wondered who had ever made this.

"Fileg! Look!" He turned his attention to the little girl and blinked a few times to clear his vision. She seemed to have some colourful stones in her hands. He managed a smile.

"Beautiful." But it sounded more like a sigh. Luckily, Dinemîn didn't look like she had noticed it, otherwise there was a chance she would start pushing the cage again. And he could miss that like the pest.

The girl tripled back to her stack of pillows and carefully arranged the stones around them, together with some other stuff. Then she lowered herself upon the cushions.

Oh, please go to sleep, he prayed silently. Just sleep!

For once, the Powers seemed to be with him, for Dinemîns eyelids started to droop and her breathing flattened out. And she slept.

The door was unceremoniously thrown open, revealing a quit entangled elven king.

"Aragorn! Come quickly! We have found something!" Groggily, the man shot op. He had been sleeping for an hour max, since Thranduil had ordered him to go to sleep after he had been swaying like a drunk man during the search.

"Wh- What?"

"They found something! Come with me!" Slowly, the words penetrated his mind. Then he rose quicker than the king would have thought possible.

"What? Where?"

"Come!" Thranduil was already gone. Swiftly, Aragorn pursued him.

"They found a hole behind of the great tapestries near the kitchen."

"Do you think…"

"I don't know. But it is a possibility. Here to the left." Dinemîn hadn't showed herself for weeks, but they hadn't stopped searching for a trace of her. Apparently, some elves had found one. They arrived in the corridor with the tapestries. There were some elves gathered there, with torches and beaming candles. One of them, Aragorn remembered him as Guranadaith, a very capable warrior and Legolas' second on most patrols, came to meet them.

"We examined the paths behind it. It's pitch dark, and there seem to be many branches. I suggest we split up in groups of eight at the beginning. If the path a group follows branches more, they can split up again. It will be the fastest way to find Legolas."

"I agree, but no one will examine a path alone, no matters how much digressions there are. You stay together! We do not know these halls, and I will not risk a life to buy an hour of time." The elves bowed respectfully.

"Guranadaith, you will take 8 elves. Take the first path that bends to the right. Aragorn, straight ahead you go. I will go to the left. Take enough of the moondust." The man's confusion must have been clear, for Thranduil turned to him and showed him a pouch filled with a glossy white stuff.

"Moondust. Invisible in the dark, but if you keep light near it…" the elven king took a bit of substance and held it near one of the candles, "it will shine brighter than the full moon." A clear light poured of the king's open hand. In amazement, Aragorn stared at it. The elf smiled and pushed one of the other pouches in his hand.

"You will need it to find the way back. Be frugal with it, it's very valuable."

"I will."

"Good. Guranadaith, you can go. Mark any splits. When you cannot split up anymore, you go back to the beginning. You wait for you group to return, take some more dust and rest a bit, then you can go together in the caves again. Continue to walk the right paths."

"My lord," the elf bowed, and he and his group disappeared.

Aragorn looked at the elves Thranduil had chosen for him. Most of them he knew from former patrols with Legolas. There was Lalaith, a cheerful elven maiden that could find something beautiful in even the direst situations. Deluarad and Minuial, brother and sister, were standing close to each other. They talked little, unless to the other, but their never failing presence gave a comfortable feeling. A bit lonely, a fair elven maiden was smiling at him. Sigîlhaeg, she was called, and she was the best friend of Legolas. Often, one could find them together, sitting in the library, or walking around the lake, or dancing at feasts. When Aragorn had asked his friend about her –after he had made sure that the elf had had plenty of wine- Legolas had admitted that if he was to marry, she would be the one, but he was not ready to bind himself yet.

The man answered her smile, and scanned the others. He didn't know them, but they seemed trustworthy and capable. In their gazes he could find nothing of the distrust or disgust that were so often in the eyes of elves who didn't know him.

"Alright. You heard the king. We will take the straight road. Does anyone have a torch for me?" As he had expected, Sigîlhaeg handed him one. He nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, Sigîl. Let's go!"

And Thranduil watched their fires disappear in the darkness.

The flame sputtered some moments, and then yielded for the mighty breath of the man. Disappointed, he let the torch fall into a corner and took the last steps towards the hole. Slowly, he climbed through it. His despair was mirrored upon the faces of the others.

"Nothing," he murmured softly for those who hadn't guessed the answer from he facial expression yet. A silent sigh went through the little group of five. They sat down and started staring at the hole again, waiting for the last two, Deluarad and Minuial, to come back. If they hadn't found anything, they would have to go into the darkness once more. And there was no one who looked forward to it.

Quietly, Aragorn joined the others in the hall, next to Sigîlhaeg, looking at the hourglass. Five hours! And they still hadn't found a trace of Legolas nor Dinemîn. He didn't know whether one of the other groups had come back again. Perhaps they were the last one to regroup. Perhaps they were the first. The only thing he knew for certain was that nor Thranduil, nor Guranadaith had found anything either. Else, the gong near the hole would have been chimed.

"We will find him, Estel." The soft-spoken words belonged to Sigîl. She managed a smile, but in her eyes, a deep sadness and fear lingered that she could not hide.

"I know, Sigîl. Legolas is though. He won't give up that easily."

"If only he would remember us," she sighed.

"He will. He will. I won't let him down." The elven maiden gave him a grateful look and lowered herself upon his shoulder. Gently, Aragorn started caressing her raven hairs. For anyone who didn't know elves, it would seem as if they were lovers. But for elven eyes, they were only friends, who were consoling each other in their grief.

For quit some time, they sat there in this manner. Aragorns eyelids started to droop as a heavy fatigue claimed him. Safe for one stolen hour, he hadn't had decent sleep for days.

Suddenly, Sigîl shot op. The man opened his eyes and saw similar reactions of the other elves. And indeed, some moments later he too saw two torches coming out of the darkness. Immediately, Minuial came to him and bowed.

"We didn't find Legolas, my lord." A collective sigh of disappointment arose. "But we did find some footsteps. We followed them, but it seems that the one who made them, has wandered multiple times through these corridors. That's why we came back. Perhaps you, as a Ranger, can read more out of the prints."

"Thank you, Minuial. Take something to drink and to eat. We will go in a quarter of an hour."

"Thank you, my lord, but we are neither hungry nor thirsty. We can go right away."

"I have trust in your skills, Minuial. We just may be gone for a few hours, and we do not know what perils we will face. Rest a little. We will go soon enough." The maiden wasn't convinced at all, but she obeyed him. Hesitantly, the others too, sat down again. The sand in the hourglass seemed to have frozen. A quarter had never passed that slowly. Finally, perhaps a little less that 15 minutes later, Aragorn rose.

"Let's go." Everyone shot up. Without wavering, his group plunged into the darkness again. Torches were lit. Weapons appeared in skilful hands. The man let Minuial and Deluarad take the lead towards the tracks. Swiftly, they strode through the halls, aided by the moondust. The powder proved itself worthy, pushing back to asphyxiating darkness and shining clearly near the crossroads. The two elves led them through the labyrint without hesitation. They were making good progress. Not much later, Deluarad halted and turned.

"Here are the marks, my lord."

"Well done, Deluarad, Minuial. Please make way." The Ranger kneeled. Soft prints, too deep to be of an elf, but too shallow for a grown-up human.

"Dinemîn," he whispered, following the traces. Minuial had been right. She had at least four times wandered this path. Since it was the first time anyone of them had seen footprints, Aragorn assumed that this must be one of the farthest roaming she had made. Probably, she would have gone back to her lair after this.

"We follow these tracks in the direction they are pointing. Do not make any sound! We might have a chance to take her by surprise." And they were of again, silent ghosts in the darkness.

"Fileg!" He groaned. Finally he had managed to find a more or less comfortable position to get some sleep without touching the bars, when the girl had woken.

"Fileg! Sing for me!" She must have waken because of his movements. Now, she was standing astride before is cage, with an expectant expression opun his face.

He had had enough of this.

"I can't." His grumble was barely audible, but Dinemîn had heard it. Her face clouded.

"Sing!"

"I can't!"

"Why not! You are my fileg! You have to sing for me!"

"I am hungry and tired and I have pain and I do not wish to sing!" he shouted. His voice was hoarse and crude, and he cringed slightly, but he wouldn't yield this time. Stubbornly, he challenged her.

"I will not sing for you!"

"But you have to sing! You're mine!"

"I am not! You imprisoned me! You tortured me! Well, I've had enough! Now you can do whatever you wish, but I will not sing for you!"

"Stupid bird!" She shrieked and pushed the cage very hard. He fell back. Dozens and dozens of spines pierced his flesh, more than ever before. He braced himself before the pain could come, but it was too late already. As fire it conquered his body and his senses, consuming him. This time, he couldn't lie still, and every time a spasm shook his body, new needles sent their poison into his blood.

He screamed, loudly, highly. Somewhere, he felt a warm liquid dripping down from his limbs and his back. His mouth too was filled with blood, since he had bit his lips to hard in a futile effort to escape the pain. He shrieked again and gagged as the blood started to fill his throat. He could barely breath! Torn between screaming and coughing, he managed a strangled cry while spitting out a fair amount of blood. But his lips wouldn't stop bleeding, and the metallic liquid continued to pour down. He had no air anymore! His vision tunnelled. The world had been washed away, Dinemîn had disappeared. Only the pain remained.

The track was getting more difficult to follow, and at the same time, easier. There were lots more of footprints now, but all of Dinemîn, and most of them seemed to go in the same direction, safe for some who wandered in some smaller distractions. His group was taking the busy road.

Just when Aragorn was doubting whether he should chime the gong to warn the other groups they had found something and to wait for their support, or go on and trust that their groups was big enough to face possible dangers, a high cream pierced the darkness and the silence. His head shot op, the moment Sigîlhaeg grabbed his shoulder.

"It's Legolas!" A new cry approached them. This time, Aragorn clearly heard the pain in his friend's voice. Without thinking, he stormed forwards, towards the source of the horrible sound. Somewhere, he heard Tegildar ordering a capable pathfinder to follow them more slowly while marking their road with moondust, and made a notation for himself to praise the elf for that later, but now he was too worried about his friend to halt.

Headlong, he raced through the corridors, with Sigîlhaeg at his side, or just behind him at places where only one person could pass. From time to time he stumbled across a loose rock, or scraped his sides against the wall, but not once he relented, and often, Sigîl supported him. Then, all of a sudden, the cobweb spit them out in a great hall. The man took some time to examine his surroundings. Dinemîn was standing before him, her back turned to them. She faced a huge bird's cage, in which a lonely elf was tossing and screaming in pain. His clothes were imbued with blood from hundreds of little wounds. Even his golden hair was painted red.

Legolas!

In rage, Aragorn stormed forwards. With a mighty roar, he seized the girl and pulled her backwards, before throwing her against the nearest wall. Sigîl immediately jumped after her and pinned her on the ground. She gave her a hard slap in the face, and then one again. A little surprised, Aragorn watched the sweet elven maiden become a frightening fury.

"How dare you! How dare you! After all we have done for you, this is how you thank us?" Another slap. Dinemîn –after having recovered from the surprise- started wriggling to get out of Sigîls grasp, but the elven maiden was too strong. She beat her again.

"You will pay for this! You will pay for this!" Then, Lalaith stormed into the cave –strange, Aragorn hadn't noticed they had fallen behind that far. Just as Sigîl wanted to strike another time, the peaceful maiden grabbed her hand.

"Enough! Sigîl, enough! She will pay for this, but before the court, not now! Compose yourself!" It clearly took all of her self-restraint, but the dark-haired maiden managed to lower her hand. Aragorn too, wanted to go to her, but a new shriek completely took his attention.

In only a few seconds, he was by the cage. His friend stared at him with pain-dulled eyes, but he didn't seem to recognize him. Desperately, Aragorn grabbed the bars, as if he could tear them apart, but when they didn't move an inch, he took his sword. With four mighty blows, the lock sprung. Swiftly, the man jumped into the cage and carried Legolas out of it, away from the poisonous spines. Then, he opened Legolas' mouth and hit his chest. A stream of blood pourred down from between his lips. It took some moments before the elf had coughed up everything. He sagged against the man's chest.

Safely on the ground, Aragorn finally embraced his friend fiercely, but mindful for his wounds. His friend was terribly thin. He could feel every rib, every muscle. A new surge of anger flashed through him as he thought how he would punish Dinemîn for this. In his rage, he pushed Legolas a bit harder against him, but a gasp caused him to release his grip.

For a time he sat there, stroking, Legolas' golden hair, while the painful spasms shook the body of his friend. When they faded away, he felt the elf stiffen, and the man sighed. He hadn't forgotten about the amnesia, but for some blissful moments, he had hoped his friend would have gotten better. Reluctantly, he loosened his embrace. The elf looked up at him, with fearful eyes and hollow cheeks.

"Hush, Legolas. You're safe. She won't hurt you anymore. I promise." Legolas' lips moved, and Aragorn bent closer to pick the words from his mouth.

"Who… are you?"

"I'm Aragorn." And then, to the man's amazement, Legolas smiled and closed his eyes, as if he had retrieved a long lost treasure.

"Aragorn…"

I do have a question for all of you... I have three stories in my head. Which one would you like to read?

1. A cute, non-torture, non-angst story about Legolas and Eldarion, about one chapter long.

2. How Aragorn met Legolas. Predictably torture and angst

3. A cross-over LOTR/Hunger Games, but ony if there is enough interest.

You would do me a great favor picking one of these in a review/PM :)

xXx Archiril