Here we are again! Sorry this took so long (again), but i discovered that a Dutch musical, about the priest Daens, has come on youtube, and I watched. It's magnificent, although I don't think you'll like a dutch musical. However, if you know dutch, you really, REALLY should watch it!

BTW, thank you all for your reviews! We reached the 100 reviews! Love you all! :)

CORRECTED BY THEWAYFARINGSTRANGERS

angelfabeth: Thank you! Off course I'm not insulted, every constructing remark is welcome! :) Well, now that you say it, you may be right, but I guess that she will not be bothered about that. She very cunning you see. i don't think she cares about that name :) But I will try to make it up in a later chapter ;)

Arwenia: It appeared now, I hope :P Well, I just imagined Christ Tucker saying, 'damn you' :P He says that quite a lot, you know :P I'm just planning on writing just story for the first book. I might write more if the other films are in de kine, but not now :) And yes, I read them all, don't worry ;)

MoonyPadfootProngs14: Yeah, normally, I would agree with you :) But this is fanfiction, and not a real book. In a book, you have to take care your characters aren't wounded too often, but on ff, that's why everyone reads it :)

Silme-Quesse: I love reviews! :) Off course I keep writing ;) Won't leave you here ;)

TheButterflyCurse996: Okay, okay, here, he's better! He's better! Don't kill me! However... :P

Ynnealay: Haha, about 30 minutes after you sent me that mail, I received the corrected version ;) Hope you like this one too ;)

Aragorn was not feeling well. Not well at all. Fire was surrounding him and torturing him, consuming him even though his flesh was not burning away, and he was shivering. Chills wracked his body.

He quivered, and pried his eyes open in search of an escape. There was nothing around him. No light, no sound. Not even darkness. There was only the Void. And it was terrifying.

Desperately, Aragorn tried to spring up and run away, only to discover he could not move his limbs. He just couldn't feel his body anymore, even though he saw that he still had one. He was petrified, paralyzed.

No. This had always been his greatest fear. Not being able to run anymore, to go wherever he wanted, to be free to roam. One day, an elf had been carried to Elrond's healing rooms, after he had fallen off his horse. His spine had been severed. Elrond had closed his eyes in despair, and told the elf that he would never be able to walk again. The wounded had faded. Fast. And even though the young Estel regretted the passing of such a fair, immortal being, in a deep corner of his heart he understood the choice the elf had made, and he knew he would likely do the same.

And now it had come true. It could not be! He tried to scream. No sound escaped his lips, only soft, mournful sighs.

Valar, have mercy on me! Release me!

They did not hear his prayer. So dark was the Void, that he couldn't feel Legolas comforting hands stroking his face, and wetting it with a moist cloth. He couldn't hear his soft voice singing an old song, nor could he see the tears on the fair elven face as his friend was roaming closer and closer to Mandos.

"Estel, mellon nin. Please wake! You cannot leave me here alone. Please, Estel, wake!" he whispered urgently, stirring the red tea he had in his hand, so that it would cool faster. Then, he carefully put the cup to his lips and tasted. It wasn't too hot anymore. Quickly he let the man drink it. Aragorn swallowed it swiftly, thirstily. When the cup was empty, he made a longing noise. Gently, Legolas stroke the side of his head.

"Hush, my friend. I'll give you some water in a minute, but first, the medicine has to have its time to work." Aragorn remained waiting for a few moments, then he sighed and relaxed. His brow was once again covered in a sheen of sweat. Legolas placed a wet cloth upon it.

"How is he?" The soft question startled him, and he cursed softly. He shouldn't let his attention wander!

"He's not well, as you can see," the elf replied curtly. He still remembered Katniss' refusal to give him some of the medicine. Perhaps Aragorn would have been better by now if he had gotten it.

Now, Legolas was not a fool. He had lived long enough to know that it was no use to linger in the past. But that didn't mean that he didn't regret the decision at all. Apparently, Katniss understood what he was thinking. She rose and went back to Peeta.

Legolas didn't try to stop her. Instead, he looked to the entrance of the cave. It was night, outside, but here, that didn't give him any solace. The stars were shining dimly, and the moon was so far away. It was as if the Valar had turned their backs on this world, not caring about the lost elf and man, who had been lured here by a false trick of fate. If only Eärendil would give him some hope, or a sign to save Estel! But the lanterns of heaven remained cold and unmoving.

Perhaps he should try to heal Aragorn by his own hands again. But that would mean he would remain defenseless… On the other hand, Thresh and Foxface were the only ones still alive. The chances that he would find their shelter in the few minutes Legolas would be unaware of his surroundings, was almost nonexistent. It did existe though, and besides, Katniss and Peeta weren't on their side either, especially not Katniss.

And he could understand that. Really. They did what they could to survive, just as everyone else did. But it was so difficult to be on his guard any time against people whom he would have called friends in better times…

Aragorn chose just that moment to groan. It seemed he fared worse. The fever had returned in all strength, and as long as he couldn't treat the infection, there was no hope the man would heal completely. He needed to do something.

"Alright, here we go again. But you'll have to help me, Aragorn. I can't do this alone." He fervently hoped his whispered prayer had reached the man, but he had no certainty that it had. He could only begin, and hope.

Gently, he placed his hands upon Aragorns body again, on the places Elrond had taught him once; the heart, and the head. Then he began to concentrate, forcing his mind to relax. It was a difficult process. He had to wander between waking and sleeping, without crossing the boundary into either side, and he had to stay there. Elrond had emphasized that this part of the healing was the most crucial. If one couldn't hold this state, the energy would soon be blocked. It was like balancing on a rope. One had to be really certain on it, before one could start to walk.

He waited a few moments – it could also have been an hour. Time had little influence in the dawn of sleep. When he was certain he was standing firmly in this near-waking, he carefully assembled energy in his hands. It took much of his concentration, but it worked. Very slowly, he saw thin threads run through his veins, towards Aragorn's body. There, he halted them, and waited until his source of energy was great enough. He couldn't assemble much though –he was not a healer, but it would have to be enough. Then, he gently broke the dams in his fingertips and let the light flow away.

"Las?" Legolas' concentration was broken in a second. Desperately, he tried to keep the energy in his hands, but it faded irrevocably. Frustrated, he opened his eyes. Peeta was looking at him.

"Are you okay? I mean, you looked like you were in a trance or something! You just sat here, and you didn't react when we called you."

"I am fine. Aragorn, however, isn't, so I would appreciate it if you wouldn't interrupt me when I am trying to help him!" Legolas really hadn't meant to lash out like this, but the anger in his voice couldn't be contained. He quickly averted his eyes. Aragorn didn't look much better. The fever was consuming him. If nothing happened, the man would be dead by morning.

"I…am sorry. I did not mean… I thought you had heard me," Peeta answered softly, kneeling on Aragorns other side. Legolas sighed.

"It's alright. It's just… I fear for him. But certainly you won't be troubled about that." The last sentence was rather bitter again. Legolas knew that he would never forgive them if Estel died. What would he say to Arwen? Or Eldarion? No, he didn't want to think about that. The man had to live. He had survived so much!

To his annoyance, the elf saw that Peeta hadn't already left. Didn't the boy understand that he needed time alone? He scowled, but Peeta wasn't deterred.

"You know, Katniss and I had an… idea. You see, it appears we have some sponsors. Haymitch sent some medicine for Katniss when she was wounded. But since we are almost at the end of the Games, we doubt whether the money will be useful for us. We have food and water, and our wounds are healed. Perhaps you can ask Haymitch to send something for… Aragorn, is it? Tell him he can use our funds too. For I imagine the medicine is to expensive to buy with your money alone. Such things are always pricy, and they ask even more at the end of the Games."

For a moment, Legolas was too bewildered to say anything. He had thought the two tributes just wanted to let Aragorn die. But now they were offering their own sponsor-money to aid him. The elf felt ashamed for his crude behaviour during the last hours. Apparently, Peeta saw that, for he put a hand upon Legolas' shoulder, smiling.

"Don't worry about it, Las. You feared for his life. It's understandable that you didn't want us around."

"But will you not regret it? We are, after all, still tributes from another District." Peeta's smile faltered.

"Well…Yes… We thought that we should wait until Strid- I mean Aragorn is better, and then…"

"And then we each go our way, and when we meet again, there will no longer be any mercy anymore. We cannot avoid the rules of the Games. The Capitol must have its winner." Katniss had heard the last part of their conversation, and joined in. Her face stood hard. Quickly, Peeta intervened.

"But that's a worry for tomorrow. For now, you should ask Haymitch to help Aragorn, if he doesn't know about our plan already."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How should I ask him?" Katniss looked at him with a wry smile.

"Make sure you say 'please'."

"Not funny. I mean, how can I send him a letter. We have no parchment, or ink, if I'm not mistaken." The girl let out a small laugh.

"Seriously? A letter? How did you find parchment in the woods you are from? Did you send any letters then?" Legolas scowled, but quickly looked down. He had said too much here. He tried to make it right before she would start asking more questions.

"No letters. Then how will I make Haymitch know we need medicine?"

"Just ask the sky. There are cameras everywhere, don't you remember? They can follow anything we say here."

"Oh." Threefold curses! So half of Panem had heard about his slip of the tongue. This wasn't going well. Quickly, he averted his eyes to the sky. The stars stared back unmoved.

"Er… Haymitch… if you can hear me, please, send us medicine for Aragorn. He needs it. Please, Haymitch. Be quick." He wasn't sure his whispered prayer was heard, but Peeta nodded approvingly.

"He'll send something soon. Wait and see." So Legolas leant back and waited. Peeta sat down next to him.

"So his name is Aragorn, isn't it?" Legolas nodded shortly. He really wanted to tell the boy about them, but not with half of Paneml listening. So he had to give Peeta something else to think about.

"He's… we are brothers. He saved me once, you see, even though he didn't know it at the time. Peeta, I cannot bare the thought of losing him."

"I understand. But he seems strong to me. He will not give in that easily."

"I truly hope so, Peeta," Legolas sighed and looked at Aragorn. The man was deadly still now. He did not moan, he did not toss anymore. All strength had left him, and Mandos was stretching his arms out to him.

"Please, Haymitch. Send us something. Quickly," the elf whispered, then he spoke up louder, "what is taking him so long?"

"I guess he'll have to persuade the sponsors to give money for another tribute. I don't think it ever happened before."

"District Eleven sent me a bread after Rue had… died," Katniss commented from the back of the cave. "I still have some, if you are hungry. It's as hard a stone now, but if you soak it in water, it's edible. And it still tastes good." Legolas wanted to say something, but then Peeta raised his hand.

"Quiet! Do you hear that?" A faint beep-beep made it's way through the silence of the night. Legolas wondered why he had not heard it before. Presumably, he had been to preoccupied with not telling to much and with his worries for Aragorn, but he did made a note for himself not to let his attention slip anymore. As soon as he had made this mental notation, he eyes found a weak light in the sky, descending upon them as if a star from heaven had decided to take a look at the earth.

"There!" The three of them looked at the metal casket as it hit the ground. The parachute gently covered it from their curious eyes. They remained silent for a few moments and stared at the thing. The little star stared back unmoving.

And many, many miles away, a man nodded to a woman in purple and a black-skinned man, who smiled back in approval.

And a few more miles further away, a man with an artistic beard, gritted his teeth and turned back to the panel. Failed. Again. The two tributes, the two run-aways, the two who made fools of the Capitol's security, were still alive, just because Twelve was becoming sentimental. In all his years as a Gamemakers, he had never seen anything like this before. Usually, he could kneed the Games as dough. It had it own structure and limits, but eventually, it would take the form he had chosen. But this year, it seemed as if the Arena was living its own life. He didn't control it anymore.

And he didn't like it. So he would find a way to regain his grip upon the Games. For a few minutes, he stood there, contemplatively. Then he raised his head.

"Mister Gray!" The silver-painted man immediately came over to the Gamemaker.

"Yes, Seneca?"

"I think it is time we make up the finale."

And a smile glided over his face.

And we are approaching the end of our journey. Stay tuned and review! :)

xXx Archiril