Sorry this took a long time. Friday, I'm done with exams (finally!) so teh next updates should follow a bit quicker. However, it will still take some more time than usually, for thewayfaringstrangers are now bèta-reviewing (I admit, I made up that verb :P Or is it the right verb?)! This will make the style and the story better and surely more correct :)

BETA: THEWAYFARINGSTRANGERS

Arwenia: Remember to keep breathing ;) Besides, what did I do exactly? :P Haha, you're so like Chris Tucker :P Damn it :P Oh, and if you say it's the right amount... :P

BookLover2000: Okay, no cliffie THIS time :P

Duchess of Night: I hope I pass the test then... :P

Falca: Thank you for your permission :P Wait and see :P Oh... I might write a story about that one day :P i'll have to remember that :P

Firerosemon: I have absolutely no idea what that meant :P

Muirgheal-of-Lantern-Wast: I'll take that as a compliment ;) Thank you! For those odd verbs... thewayfaringstrangers are bèta-reviewing now, so that should be better ;) And no problem ;) I like muirgheal, though I've no idea how to pronounce it ;)

TheButterflyCurse996: Hahaha, you really made me laugh ;) I'll be nice, I promise... ;) Love you too! :P

Time slowed down. With terrible clarity, Legolas saw the glistering blade sink into living flesh, evoking tears of blood. The red droplets fled to the silver intruder and the grass beneath, taking with them Aragorn's life and strength. The man's eyes widened, and a soft moan escaped his lips. It was more like a sigh actually. Then, Cato pulled the sword back with a cruel twist, grunting in satisfaction as the red tears became a river. Aragorn's knees buckled. So slowly, he knelt and kissed the ground. Then he remained motionless, Cato towering above him. The tribute turned to Legolas, his sword ready for an attack.

But the elf just couldn't avert his eyes from the lifeless figure to defend himself. Aragorn. Estel. His friend.

"No," he whispered. He remembered the days in Elrond's house. So many summers they had been swimming in the river and little pools in the fair realm, so many winters they had spent near the fire, telling stories and pulling pranks on each other. It seemed as if those days would never end.

Then they had grown up, and Aragorn had gone to the Rangers to defend the lands, and Legolas had been given more and more duties to attend to. Still, every summer and every winter they saw each other, in the wild, or in Greenwood, or in the Last Homely House. And those moments seemed endless again.

But time passed by, and the shadow grew. Both of them saw more death and pain and devastations than one should see. And still they fought on. And still, Legolas took the few peaceful days with his friend for granted. For it was only the others who died, friends and strangers and foes. Never did Legolas linger on the thought that one day, they may not be that happy again, that one day, Mandos would come to claim his friend. Sure, he knew Aragorn was mortal. But he would only die in a distant future. Not now. Not here. Please.

And yet, there he lay, pale and lifeless, a crimson spot spreading beneath him, an obscene colour against his pale flesh

And all of sudden, Legolas became furious. He had never killed out of vengeance. He killed to defend his people and his friends. But seeing Cato smiling at the sight of his victim, sparked a light in him, that quickly grew until it was a raging fire, consuming him. Growling, Legolas took his knife. He had only one, unlike he was used to, but right now, he would have gladly charged the tribute even with his bare hands. Cato was slightly taken aback by the fury in his eyes. Normally, tributes in that position cowered in fear or began to beg. Still, he was confident he would beat the boy.

"My my, I thought I was doing you a favour! He would have died anyway, Thirteen! Just like you! You two are too pathetic and feeble to survive this Game! Now, come and try me, Thirteen! I'll show you how you win this game!"

The last words hadn't left his mouth when Legolas attacked. The boy had barely the time to parry and he was forced to take a step back. Immediately, the elf followed him, giving him neither space to manoeuvre or a chance to breath. Cato began to realize he had made a mistake and frantically sought for a way out. He found none. Legolas was too close, and his knife descended time after time upon his blade. The tribute had to use all tricks he had learnt to keep his attacker from killing him.

Cato couldn't avoid all attacks however. Several minor cuts were scattered across his arms and torso already, and he was beginning to be fatigued. The sword he was holding seemed heavier by the minute. Panicking, he tried to remember what is weapon trainer had told him. It was a two-handed sword – that meant that his attacks had to be purposeful and violently. It was no use dancing around with such a heavy weapon for he would only exhaust himself. Problem was he was exhausted already. And that cursed tribute didn't want to hold still. Boy, he was getting tired. He had to finish this.

With a frustrated growl, he threw himself forwards. It was a risky move, for there was a great chance he would get wounded – but the chances that his enemy would remain unscratched, were almost nonexistent.

The odds weren't in his favour.

Legolas had seen the desperate look in Cato's eyes, and had known he would try something rash. As soon as the tribute threw his weight to his sword, the elf understood what he was trying and nimbly leaped out of the way. Cato was completely taken by surprise by the swift disappearance. He couldn't correct his movement and felt forwards. He never knew he hit the grass though. At the moment his body passed Legolas, the elf threw his knife into his other hand and stabbed. The point of his blade neatly pierced Cato's heart. The tribute was dead before he fell to the ground.

Everything was silent then. Even the birds had ceased their singing. Unmoving, Legolas stared at the dead body. He was surprised that he felt no guilt or sorrow, only a vague touch of regret. Cato could have lived. He just shouldn't have hurt Aragorn.

Aragorn. Quickly, Legolas strode to his friend and knelt. The man was so pale. His breathing was very laboured, and his brow was furrowed in pain. The wound spilled his blood abundantly. Gently, the elf placed his hand upon the man's shoulder.

"Aragorn? Mellon nin, you need to wake up. Please, if you hear me, open your eyes." The man didn't react at all. It worried Legolas to see his friend in such pain, yet still he couldn't leave his unconsciousness.

"Estel. Come back to me. Please." Tenderly, he placed his hands upon Aragorns heart and closed his eyes, willing his feä to gather in his hands and pour over into the man's weakened body. It took much of his concentration, but after some minutes, he felt a small river of light connecting with Aragorn. It was feeble though, and shaky, and it did not last long. Soon, he couldn't muster the attention anymore to keep the energy intact. The small stream broke off.

Frustrated Legolas opened his eyes and glared furiously at his hands. He knew he was no healer, but this was his friend! He had to heal him! He was just about to try again, when Katniss laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"Las, I have no idea what you are doing, but we should be going. I thought I heard someone." Legolas sighed.

"Where do you suggest we go?" he asked tiredly. The girl hesitated.

"Well… I do have a hiding spot. Peeta is there too. I suppose you can join us." Surprised, Legolas looked up. He hadn't expected Katniss to help them. The girl had been very logical and cold in this game, seeing and accepting the necessity to kill. But apparently, the elf had judged her wrong.

"Is it far from here?"

"Not too far. I think he'll survive the trip. I do not know what you did exactly, but it seems it helped a little." She was right. Aragorn was still pale, and his breathing was still far too uneven, but instead of marching straight towards Mandos, he seemed to linger around the Halls now. Very carefully, Legolas lifted his friend in his arms, desperately trying not to hurt him, though that was near impossible with such a serious injury. Then he turned to Katniss.

"Please show me."

She was right. The hiding spot was not too far. Still, Legolas was glad when they arrived there, even though it was a cave. His feeble attempt of healing had drained him, and the man was quite heavy. Gently, he placed his friend against a wall.

"Las? Strider?" A feeble voice arose from the dark. Legolas straightened.

"Peeta?"

"Yes, it's me. Thank God you're still alive! I missed some announcements at night, so I didn't know whether you had been mentioned or not. What's the matter with Strider?"

"He's wounded. Gravely. How are you?" Legolas' eyes could easily penetrate the darkness and he saw the wound upon Peeta's leg. The boy shrugged casually.

"A little encounter with a tribute. Have you seen Katniss? She drugged me to go to the festivity."

"I am right here, Peeta. Don't worry, I do not have a scratch. What I do have, however, is your medicine." With a little pot in her hands, she strode forwards and knelt besides the boy's leg. The ointment smelled sweet. Very carefully, Katniss tried to apply the treatment to the injury, but Peeta still cringed under her touch and groaned, closing his eyes. Without a word, Legolas grabbed his hand. The boy squeezed it violently. Katniss looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Here, it's finished already. I will put a second layer upon it tomorrow." She put the pot in one of her pockets again. Legolas looked up.

"Katniss, can we not use it to treat Ara- Strider too?" The girl hesitated, yet shook her head.

"I am sorry, Legolas. I only have medicine for one more layer tomorrow. I can not spill it on your friend." The elf was fully aware she said your, and not our friend. He wanted to protest, but then he remembered the amendment on the rules that Seneca had announced. Two tributes of the same District can win at the same time. And right now, Peeta and Katniss, and he himself and Aragorn were the only couples left. Which made them direct rivals.

"I'm sorry, Las. But have you looked inside the bag from the Horn already? Perhaps that will help you?" Legolas could hit himself. He had completely forgotten about it! Quickly, he took it out of his pocket and emptied it upon the ground. A little, black, metallic box fell out of it. Curiously, the picked it up and examined it. It was about as big as his hand and completely even, safe for a little hatch that had been closed. He heard Katniss coming closer. The girl too, studied the box.

"That's… That's a pod." Questioningly, Legolas turned to her.

"What's a pod?"

"Please let me see it." The elf put the object into her stretched hand. She examined it closely, then recognition dawned upon her face.

"Oh, I recognize it now! It's… do you remember the television? That screen in our room that showed moving images? It's the same concept, this type of pod will open a window with a little movie. Some of the Peacekeepers in my District had it with them."

"Oh." Legolas took it back and turned it over and over in his hands, his brow furrowed.

"Why would they send us this? Will it help Aragorn?"

"They placed it there before your friend was hurt. And usually they gave gifts that correspond with a direct problem for the tribute, not as a safeguard. Neither of you was wounded when you heard the message, were you?" Legolas shook his head.

"But we did not have any other problem either."

"Then why did you search for it?" The elf shrugged. "Curiosity." Katniss shot him a I-never-met-someone-who-was-as-stupid-as-you-are-look.

"Anyway, I don't think it will help us now. I'll take a look at it later. Would you please help me to collect some herbs? Aragorn needs treatment."

"Only if you explain a few things."

"Such as?"

"Such as why you said that Aragorn is called Strider and the fact that you're an elf, apparently." Legolas' smile faltered.

"Oh. That."

"Yes. That." Katniss looked stern. In a way, Legolas wanted to tell her about Middle-Earth, but he knew she would never believe it. Besides, he didn't want to Capitol and all of the Districts to hear it. So he lowered his gaze and shook his head.

"I truly am sorry, Katniss, but I can't tell you. Not here. Not now. Perhaps one day." She snorted.

"Fine with me. But don't expect any help from me now. I was foolish enough to show you this hiding place."

"For that I'm grateful, Katniss," Legolas answered quietly, but he wasn't sure she had heard it, for at the same moment, she turned around and went to sit near Peeta. The boy had fallen asleep. Probably, he hadn't heard the exchange. It was probably better that way.

Silently, Legolas left the cave to search for medicinal herbs. He only found a few deep-red seregon-flowers. They had little healing ability, yet they eased the senses and in a way resembled the more powerful athelas-herb. On his way back, he also saw alfirin, an herb that was known for giving strength to those who needed it. He took some of it with him too. Still, he wasn't quite content when he reached the cave again. The herbs he had collected were in no way healing, they only supported. Yet, it was better than nothing.

"Katniss, do you have some water?"

"Only if you'll refill the flask again. I'll need some for Peeta too. His wound needs cleaning." She handed over the flask without looking at him.

"I will. Thank you." Quickly, he build a very small fire, just enough to heat the water. It was a matter of precision, but he managed. Once the water was boiling, he put some crushed alfirin and seregon in it. Almost immediately, the liquid turned red. Legolas took it of the fire and let it cool down, while he went out to refill the flasks. When he returned, the medicine was cold enough to drink. He turned to Aragorn –and frowned. The man's hair and face were covered in sweat, and he was tossing restlessly. In a few seconds, the elf wat at his side.

"Sidh, Estel. Avo'osto. Im si. Si sogo sen." (Peace, Estel. Don't fear. I am here. Now, drink this) He kept on telling soothing nonsense to his friend, until the man was calm enough to drink. Still, he did not wake, nor did he acknowledge Legolas' presence. Finally, the bowl was empty, and the elf gently lowered Aragorn to the ground again. The man sighed tiredly. Worried, Legolas placed his hand upon his head. His skin was hot to his touch. Aragorn was burning with fever.

"I am so sorry, mellon nin. I wish there was something I ccouldn do for you. You have to wake up, Aragorn. I am no healer. You have to tell me what I should do!" Legolas bowed his head in despair when the man didn't react. His best friend was dying on him and he couldn't change a thing. Gently, the elf clasped his hand.

"Please, Aragorn, do not leave me here. Think of fair lady Arwen. You have to fight! Please!" But the man gave no sign that he had heard him.

As usual, please R&R :P

xXx Archiril