Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for the reviews: MagicianOfTheShadows, Lathspel, Calathiel of Mirkwood, Dark Diamond, and eowyn34455895. I appreciate them soooo much. Anyway, I am sorry about the wait. Work is a bit hectic with back to school and the hours are never-ending. Enjoy the next chapter!

"Legolas!" Aragorn yelled over the sounds of the clashing swords of both elf and orc.

The elven party overcame the orcs like a tidal wave crashing upon a peaceful shore. The vile creatures were greatly outnumbered and the element of surprise gave the elves the edge they needed to end the battle quickly. The bodies continued to litter the ground, and each horse had to carefully maneuver around them. Within moments, the fighting had ceased and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the forest again.

Shaking his head in fear, Aragorn continued calling his friend's name, unsuccessful at keeping the worry and desperation out of his shaky voice. He urged his horse on, further through the trees, knowing Legolas was close. Before he knew it, Aragorn was sitting in the middle of a disheveled camp looking heartbrokenly at the unmoving body of his best friend lying unaware beneath the shade of a dying tree.

"Legolas," he whispered silently as he dismounted his horse, and ran to the side of the blonde elf afraid of what he might find.

Aragorn fell to his knees beside his injured friend, barely breathing as he reached a tentative hand out to feel for a pulse. He let out an audible sigh of relief feeling a weak beat beneath his fingertips. His eyes scanned the bruises and visibly broken bones that decorated the slender body. His skin was horribly pale, and the way his arms were clutching his middle and the pained expression that showed on his sleeping face, made Aragorn's heart ache. 'Oh, mellon nin, what have they done to you…please forgive me,' he thought miserably to himself. A few more moments passed as Aragorn continued to dwell on his friend's injuries. Blinking back the tears that his unrelenting thoughts of guilt had caused, he swallowed hard and called for his father.

"Ada! Ada, I found him!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Help me," he managed to whisper, though he knew his father could not hear him.

"Estel," Elrond said calmly, staring with great concern at his son. Aragorn looked up in surprise, not realizing that his father had come at his call, and that his mind was so lost in thought that he did not even notice his approach or that of the others who guarded the perimeter.

"Estel, ion nin. Let go." Seeing the indecision in his son's eyes, he continued soothingly. "It's okay, you can let him go now. I will take care of him."

Elladan came up behind his human brother and placed a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder. Feeling the tremors that coursed through his body caused Elladan to look worriedly at his father. The stress of the events and the condition of Legolas was no doubt negatively affecting Aragorn, and the recent sickness made him even more vulnerable to the possibility of a relapse. Elrond nodded to the eldest twin, and Elladan knelt down beside the human and carefully, pulled Aragorn's hands away from the motionless body. As soon as Legolas was free, Elrond laid him down flat on the ground and began assessing his numerous injuries.

Aragorn still sat there, dazed and confused. Elladan's hands on his shoulders urged him to rise and come with him, but for some reason his mind would not cooperate. There was something terribly wrong and he knew it, or rather, felt it. His heart rate began to accelerate and he struggled to breathe properly. Sweat formed on his brow and yet he shivered as though he were chilled.

Elladan noticed the warning signs emanating from his brother's body. Trying desperately to keep Aragorn talking and in reality with him was a challenge to say the least. Shock was slowly taking hold, and the clammy skin that assaulted his sense of touch, increased his anxiety tenfold.

"Estel, gwador nin! Estel, lasto beth nin. Look at me!" Elladan said firmly, hoping to pull his brother from his suffocating thoughts. His face fell when Aragorn began mumbling incoherently.

"Legolas…hurt badly…help…no."

"Get me a blanket!" Elladan commanded when he saw his twin coming towards him, no doubt finished his survey of the surrounding area finding every orc slaughtered.

"Estel, listen to me. Everything is fine now. Please," Elladan pleaded trying to find recognition in his brother's eyes.

"Thank you," He whispered when Elrohir came back with a thick, gray blanket to drape around the shivering human's shoulders. He continued to rub his arms trying to keep him warm and his blood circulating. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Aragorn seemed to slowly come back to himself, though incredibly weary.

"Ell-dan," He croaked falling forward into his brother's arms as though he could no longer keep himself upright. Laying him down gently and comfortably, Elladan checked his vital signs and breathed a sigh of relief when he found the man's pulse returning to normal.

"Shhh, gwador nin, rest now."

Elrohir placed a hand on his elven brother, beckoning him to come. It seemed that Elrond had finished his examination of Legolas. Though reluctant to leave, he followed.

"How is Estel," Elrond asked first before either son could speak. The lines on their father's face had gone deeper, and he was paler than usual. He was weary and saddened as each syllable uttered seemed to echo these feelings for all to hear. The news could not be good at all.

"He will be fine with a bit of rest. How is Legolas?" Elladan refused to elaborate on his brother's condition. Details were not needed, not now, at any rate, when Legolas was hurt much worse.

"He…I do not know," The elf lord whispered, closing his eyes briefly as though he had failed the blonde elf and the fault for his condition laid solely upon his shoulders. "He has been brutally tortured. The details of which are not mine to relate. Physically, he has numerous broken bones including five ribs, his collar bone, and his left leg. The number of contusions on his body is innumerable. He has a severe concussion that could possibly be the result of a cracked skull." As Elrond went on, he made his voice completely monotone refusing to allow any emotions to escape for fear that he would not be able to control them. The healer in him kept him from breaking down completely.

"But he will be alright with time, won't he?" Elrohir asked fearfully. It made him sick to think of the torment that the elf went through. Unpleasant memories of his mother's ordeal filled his head. He was sure Elladan was thinking the same.

"Won't he?" He asked again, hearing no response from his father.

"Ada?" Elladan urged, wishing an end to the tension-filled silence.

"I think he will recover physically, but mentally…I do not know if he is strong enough this time…" Elrond admitted heartbrokenly not wanted to lose another loved one to the atrocities of the orcs.

"Yes he is!" a voice argued from a few feet away. It seemed that though as tired as he was, Aragorn found the strength to stand and stagger to where the elves were talking.

"Estel, you should not be up," Elrohir said though no louder than a whisper. He could not reprimand his brother now…his heart was just not in it.

"How could you say such things? How could you even think them?" Aragorn continued ignoring his brother's words completely.

"Estel," Elladan began, but the words would not form. Thankfully, Elrond knew what to say.

"Estel, we all want Legolas to recover and everything to return to the way they were, but sometimes, life does not always give us what we desire." The words sounded very much like they stemmed from personal experience.

"You're wrong, ada. I know it. I believe in Legolas. I know he would never leave us. He will fight with every ounce of strength he has left. He can recover." The last words were barely above a whisper. His convictions sounded strong at first, but as his mind began to understand what he was saying, he began to doubt their truth. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest, and he knew it was because his heart was breaking. He had a deep connection with Legolas as though he could feel and understand him, even now. Aragorn couldn't identify it at first, but it was always there. Now it was fading along with his best friend. His fevered dreams began to fill his head again, except now, he understood, that they were not at all dreams, but reality. Those terrifying moments, each agonizing scream, every cold, malicious laugh, was real…for Legolas. Shaking his head, Aragorn tried to get rid of the images. NO! He had to believe that he could bring his friend back, that he could pull him from the darkness to bathe in the light.

"Estel?" Elrond asked worriedly, seeing his son unresponsive again.

"We have to help him, ada. We have to…no matter what." Elrond looked at the pleading gray eyes. It was in that moment that Elrond understood. Estel knew what happened to Legolas while in the grasp of the orcs. The image of a distraught and sick man crying against his chest saying it was too late, filled the elf lord's mind. In his sickness, Aragorn had somehow known what was happening to Legolas, and now the man was battling his own feelings of doubt while trying to be strong himself and believe in his friend's chance of recovery.

"Oh, Estel," Elrond said understandingly, "We will. Yes, we all will."

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