A/N A much calmer chapter this time! I had to give those two a break before they snapped. :)

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter Eight

Aragorn slipped through a doorway, glancing carefully around before slinking into the next shadow. Only the light of a few flickering torches lite the room, making it easy for the human to blend in to his surroundings.

He was desperate to see Legolas again, after all that had happened he needed to know that the prince was alright. So he had escaped from Gerda's watchful eye and had slipped past the guard, who was fast asleep.

Ducking in the next shadow, he stilled for a moment, assuring himself that no one was around before edging on. Damrod had let in slip that afternoon that Legolas was in a cellar somewhere, and this seemed the most logical place to hold a cellar.

The flickering glow of troches brightened up ahead, and Aragorn took a few tentative steps forward and froze when he caught sight of a man sitting in the corner, a bottle of whisky at his feet. The man snored loudly and Aragorn closed his eyes in relief. Drunken gaurds where the easiest to get past, and this was a sign that he was in the right place.

Within seconds he was beside the guard and pulling at the door. It didn't budge, but this wasn't about to stop the ranger and he carefully picked the lock which gave way with a satisfying click that made Aragorn glance over at the guard. But he hadn't stirred, and the ranger slipped through the door and into pitch darkness.

"Legolas?" Aragorn called as loudly as he dared, feeling his way across the room. There was no answer and the ranger paused, trying to get his bearings. With an exasperated sigh, he pulled out a stub of candle, lighting it careful with a match that he carried with him wherever he went. When he did so, he saw that he certainly was in a storage place as jars of canned food lined the walls along side strips of salted pork that hung amidst several boxes.

"Legolas?" he called again, holding the light up higher. There was no answering reply and Aragorn frowned, moving further into the room and calling the elf's name again into the deafening silence.

"Estel?"

At the sound, Aragorn jumped and almost dropped the candle, swearing softly at the hoped for, but not expected, noise.

"Don't do that!" he snapped with a large grin that light up his face. "Where are you?" Aragorn asked in a much more serious tone.

A mirthless laugh met his ears, followed by a hallow voice. "They seem to find enjoyment in keeping me in dark and small places."

Aragorn sucked in a sharp into of breath, realizing what the prince meant and knowing how much he hated those kinds of places.

Taking large strides, he crossed to the section of the room where Legolas' voice was coming from and began to bodily move several boxes that where in that area.

There, beneath the first couple boxes, was the beginning of a trap door and Aragorn felt elation shoot through his stomach.

"Legolas?" he called again, anxiously clearing more of the boxes until he had the trap door had been revealed. It was a four by four square with thin wooden slates and a large, well crafted padlock. Clutching at the handle, he yanked up, but wasn't surprised when it didn't budge.

"It is locked, do not worry about trying." Legolas said softly a little to late, before his long, gracefully fingers squeezed up in-between the narrow wooden slates.

"I'm sorry, mellon-nin." Aragorn whispered, trying to make eye contact with the sliver of the elf's face that he could see.

"If anyone is to be sorry, it should be me." Legolas stated, his head moving a fraction so that he could better see Aragorn. "It was me who brought us here."

Aragorn sighed, half-heartedly slamming his fist into the wood, grunting softly as he did so, "No, it's not your fault." A moment later he cut to the root of the problem, "I can't you get you out, Legolas, the lock has been crafted too well. I need different tools that what I brought with me."

"That is alright" Legolas said carefully, though it was very clear to Aragorn that it was anything but alright. The elf looked down, trying to fix his expression. How he hated this dark, damp, filthy, dung hole he was copped up in. Never was there enough light, if any at all, and the walls seemed to shrink in on him a little every day. He needed to get out before he went insane.

"No, it isn't. What is wrong?" Aragorn asked urgently, sliding his hands over Legolas' to offer comfort and let him know that he was not alone. The elf shook his head, asking a question of his own to turn the attention away from himself.

"How are you feeling? Did Gerda treat you well? I'm can't even tell you how scared I was for you!"

"Legolas." Aragorn said, giving the elf a pointed stare.

"Aragorn." Legolas teased back, before growing serious. "Please tell me, the burden on my heart would ease if you would do so."

"Fine." Aragorn huffed, shaking his head. "But only if you tell me who you are feeling after."

Legolas nodded his affirmative, grinning slightly as he added, "And be honest about it."

"I feel fine, Legolas. Truthful, all I feel is a little weariness." Aragorn answered, a smile on his face at the prince's last words. "Gerda took fine care of me, so you don't have a bone to pick with her and yes, I swear I am fine." He rattle off. "Now, you, and I know that your care has been far less ideal than mine."

Legolas raised his eyebrows and smiled with agreement, cocking his head to the side before answering, his fingers tracing the wood thoughtfully. "I'm fine." He finally said, not meeting Aragorn's eyes.

"Legolas—"

"No, really!" The elf protested earnestly. "A little beat up, yes, but not terribly so. Nothing is broken, nothing is premantly damaged. So yes, considering, I am fine."

Above him, Aragorn gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing may be permanent but that doesn't mean you are fine. You can't fool me, Legolas Greenleaf." The ranger stated, eyes reflecting his concern. "There is blood on your face and you move slowly and awkwardly as if you are in great pain. Your voice is weak and tired. You're not fine."

"Well, there isn't anything you can do about it." Legolas whispered back, his tone discouraged.

"No," Aragorn said with unease. "There must be something I can do, because I am not just going sit around and let you suffer."

"Unless you have a way to pick that lock, there isn't much you can do." The prince pointed out, retracting his hand from the wooden slates and brushing back the hair that had escaped its confinement. Aragorn didn't miss the wince that the prince tried to hide as he moved his shoulders.

"I'll come back, tomorrow, with better tools. I am sure I can find something that will work." Aragorn promised, attempting to clutch the prince's hand to offer hope, but there wasn't enough space between slates and he sat back, a pained look on his face. Legolas didn't say anything, keeping his head down.

"Promise me that you wouldn't leave me alone in this horrible place." Legolas suddenly begged, unable to stand it any longer. The part of his face that Aragorn could see flushed with embarrassment, his hatred for showing weakness showing in his face as he looked away, unwilling to met Aragorn's eyes.

The man hesitantly threw a glance over his shoulder to the still closed door, pausing to listen to any noise that might indicate that the guard was awake.

"Legolas…" he began softly with an air of desperation that indicated what his answer would be before he could utter it himself.

"Don't —don't worry about it. I was stupid for asking." Legolas interrupted, his face now positively burning with shame for the momentary weakness.

"Legolas, I would if I could!" Aragorn pleaded for understanding, reaching out to the elf even though he wasn't able to make physical content with him. "But Damrod swore that he would kill you if he caught me trying to help you. Coming to you was dangerous enough already."

"No, it is fine, Aragorn, I understand." Legolas said dully, pulling back and away from the trap door, effectively hiding his face even more.

"I'll stay!" Aragorn cried, giving in at the tone of the prince's voice. "But I'll have to leave before dawn, in case Gerda wakes."

"No." Legolas insisted. "You are right, it is too perilous for both of us. Just forget what I said, I'll be alright."

"I'm sorry." Aragorn finally whispered. "Let me stay for a little while longer, though, I don't have to leave quite yet." Legolas nodded, trying hard not to let the relief show as he moved back to the thin bars.

Suddenly, though, they both froze, listening intently. A sound was coming for outside the door and then a bang reverberated thoughout the cellar as someone slammed their fist against wood.

"Quiet! Some of us are trying to sleep!" A slurred angry voice hollered from outside and both prince and ranger shared terrified glances.

"I have to go." Aragorn whispered, pulling back and into the shadows, shoving the boxes that had been over Legolas' cell back into place. "I'm sorry, but I'll need a distraction," Legolas nodded quickly in understanding.

"I don't have to be quiet if I don't want to!" he yelled, attracting the guard's attention. The door flew open and the man stomped into the room, grunting angrily.

"Started talking to yourself have you, blasted creature!" he snarled, his tongue slurring his words, the effects of the whiskey he had drunken early still in control.

"If I am the only one around that has the mental capacity to have an interesting conversation with, than yes." Legolas shot back, and was gratified with a sharp thud overhead as the man above him kicked a box.

Aragorn, meanwhile, slipped through the open door and into safety.

"Well, I'll drag you straight to Damrod if I hear anything from you again tonight!" the man growled, kicking the box again. "And that wouldn't be very pleasant, would it."

Legolas made no answer and the man swore loudly, stomping with force back out of the room and slamming the door. The elf sighed and moved back to the end of his prison were there was more space and sat with his chin on his knees. The small smile that had been on his face from mocking the guard died, a sad frown darkening his face instead as he shivered, the darkness creeping back in on him. How he hated it here!

Curling up into a ball for security and protection, he focused in on his and Aragorn's latest conversation and the promise the man had given him. A flicker of hope flared in his soul and the darkness didn't seem so dark anymore.

TBC...

See! A nice calm one! And I didn't even leave a cliffe, which you should all be proud of me for because I was strongly tempted too!

Review Repy:

Nameless: Your train of thought was derailed, there were no survivors... :) Yes, they where hear breakingly close! Those poor two... I am rather evil. ;) Thanks!