Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews: invisigoth3, jennie, Eye of Newt, Lozrii, haruka33, Grey Pigeon, Klariss, puretsubasa. That is the most reviews for a chapter I have ever had. Thank you so much. I am sorry about the wait. Blame it on too much work and my birthday last week. Hope you enjoy!

Memories came rushing back as glazed blue eyes stared unseeing at the star- studded, night sky. Legolas remembered…everything. Every moment of torture, every punch, every kick, every word…his head hurt terribly as the images flashed in his mind. The constant pounding behind his eyes made it hard to focus on anything; his head feeling as though it would fall off completely. His shallow breathing was painful enough, but it was all he could concentrate on to keep himself from slipping away again. He wanted so much to let go and be free of his pain. He almost couldn't recall the last time he felt well or even how long he'd been there for that matter.

Where was Aragorn? Where was his best friend when he needed him the most? Why wasn't he here with him now? He didn't have the energy to wipe away the few silent tears that slid their way down his face. Legolas knew he was stronger than this. He knew that if Aragorn were able he would be there. Didn't he? Everything seemed so confusing now. The sound of a twig snap made his breathing hitch and a new round of pain overwhelmed his senses. They were coming for him again. No, not again. Maybe this time they would take him for good.

As soon as mid morning arrived, Elrond took a deep breath and nudged his sleeping son's shoulder gently in order to coax the man from his slumber.

"Estel?" Elrond called softly, not wanting to alarm him. After all, he'd been unconscious for nearly four days. Who wouldn't awaken confused and panicked?

A groan of protest escaped the man's lips and his eyes moved slowly beneath his lids. Elrond took his son's hand in his and continued to call for him softly, reassuring him that he was fine. Finally, tired but clear eyes opened slowly, looking frantically around the room. After seeing where he was, Aragorn sighed faintly and met his father's gaze.

"Welcome back, ion nin," Elrond said smiling.

Aragorn smiled in return and tried to respond but his throat was so raw it felt like the inside was being ripped apart by daggers. His efforts initiated a bout of coughing that made his chest and lungs ache. His mind seemed to conclude that he most likely was suffering the aftermath of pneumonia at the very least. Elrond poured a cup of water from the pitcher he had been using earlier to pour water into the bowl on the bedside table. As Aragorn calmed and his breathing became even, the elf lord handed the young man a cool glass of water.

Aragorn sipped the water gratefully as though it were the sweetest and most enjoyable thing he had ever tasted, and therefore, not something one should waste. His once cotton filled mouth became soothed by the onslaught of the clear liquid, and it took every ounce of self-control for him to not gulp down the rest of the cup. As soon as he determined his voice ready for use, he held the cup in his lap.

"How are you feeling, Estel?" Elrond asked, apprehension ever present in his voice. The long days had indeed left their mark on the proud elf lord. Aragorn could see the added creases in his forehead as he questioned his condition, the circles beneath his eyes from many sleepless nights sitting vigilant at his side, and even his once solid form seemed to droop as though carrying a great weight upon his shoulders. It was all Aragorn could do to keep himself from throwing himself in his father's arms like a child and hugging him in appreciation for everything that he had done.

"I feel fi-" Aragorn was going to say that he felt fine but the sharp look his father shot him made him rethink his response. "I feel better, ada. Just a bit stiff and sore is all. What happened?" Elrond was suddenly stricken when those last words escaped his son's mouth. Something inside the dark-haird elf screamed in despair should Aragorn not recall enough of the past few days to save Legolas.

"You were sick, Estel. Terribly sick, in fact. Elladan and Elrohir saw you riding into Imladris slumped over your horse not three days ago," Elrond responded hoping that would at least jar his son's memory enough to remember the moments that led to the event. Relief washed over him when he saw the realization engulf the man.

"Legolas! Is he alright? Did to you find him?" Aragorn made to leave his bed not unlike the first night of his arrival, when in his fevered mind he thought he could rescue his friend. Elrond moved to push his son back down before he became dizzy.

"Lie down, Estel. You are not strong enough to be up," Elrond demanded.

"No, ada, you don't understand. I have to help him. It's all my fault, don't you see?" Aragorn pleaded desperately, guilt written all over his face. He fought back against his father's hands, but he was too weak to compete and he knew it.

"Estel, calm yourself and lie down. We will find Legolas if you would just tell me where you two were camping. Everything will be fine," Elrond promised trying so hard to keep himself from shaking his son into telling him. Legolas life depended on him. This he knew without a doubt as his heart ached feeling as though the elf prince was barely clinging to life.

"We were…we were staying in a cave, not a day's journey from here. It was pouring and everything happened so fast. The orcs…they came and Legolas was hit in the shoulder with an arrow…He punched me, knocked me out and told me to find help. Don't you see? This is all my fault. He is in the hands of those vile creatures, tortured and in pain, and I…I…" Aragorn was on the brink of hyperventilating, the terrible fevered dreams of his friend's torture returning full force to the front of his mind. The things they did to him…his stomach churned. Before Elrond could say a word, his son was retching over the side of his bed, tears running down his cheeks. There was nothing in his stomach but that didn't stop him from heaving violently. One dream still fresh in his mind…

The orcs closed in, viciously attacking the elf that lay defenseless within the circle of them. Legolas tried desperately to block his face and chest from the sharp blows that left him breathless and in agony. He could have sworn he heard the snapping of bones beneath the iron fists, breaking them as easily as a twig in the forest. One particularly large orc, no doubt the leader, kneeled and leaned in close as the blows came to a sudden halt.

"Scream for me," he whispered sadistically, his putrid, hot breath brushing ever so slightly against the blonde hair that lay on Legolas' shoulder.

There was still defiance in the elf's eyes. A fire still burned within him and he refused to acknowledge the orc's presence. With the little strength he had, Legolas spat in the sneering orc's face before him and whispered curses harshly in elvish, knowing full well that the revered elvin tongue was like poison to his ears. Disgusted, the orc grabbed him by the throat and pulled him forcefully into a sitting position, Legolas' broken ribs grinding against each other.

"I will break you"……

……Legolas lay utterly defeated. The orcs had finally left him in peace though for how long he did not know. Feeling that he was at least alone for the time being, Legolas surrendered. He rolled over on his side, trying desperately to breathe through the pain, and for the first time since his mother left, he cried. His body shook with sobs, but despite the pain it caused, he could not stop.

"Oh, mellon nin, where are you?"

"Estel? Estel, lasto beth nin!" Elrond was frantic with worry, trying to calm his son who was now weeping uncontrollably, his body hanging limply over the side of the bed, and his dry heaves finally stopping.

"Look at me, Estel!" Elrond yelled, pulling the man upright and placing both hands on either side of his face so he would have no choice but to meet his gaze. "Legolas will be fine. Elladan and Elrohir will find him." As Elrond spoke, Aragorn shook his head in denial.

"No, you don't understand," came a heartbroken whisper, as the man's eyes closed in despair.

"What don't I understand? Look at me, Estel," Elrond said beside himself with worry, his heart clenching in fear.

"It doesn't matter. Not anymore…Legolas…" Aragorn trailed off as exhaustion finally overtook his weary frame. In a matter of seconds he fainted, falling forward into his father's arms. Elrond held him, speechless and mystified. What did Aragorn mean?

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