A/N I think most all of you really wanted this next chapter so here it is! ;)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Ten

Aragorn felt the water close over his head and everything became distorted, its color turning a dark grey. Any sound was muffled and unclear, hampered by the liquid which surrounded him.

Striking out, the man glanced frantically around praying that he would be able to find Legolas before it was too late. If it wasn't too late already, a dark voice inside of his head whispered. Aragorn refused to give root to that thought and pushed his limbs even harder

The water pulled at him, tugging on his clothes and swirling its fingers through his hair. A stray strand of weed sucked up against his face, but Aragorn pushed it hurriedly away. Nothing, he could see nothing of Legolas and his heart about to burst with fear. He had to get Legolas out of there immediately, he had already been down to long.

Kicking further downward Aragorn tracked every movement with his eyes, feeling at a loss. He didn't even know which way to turn, which direction to even start looking. He groped around widely with his hands, somehow half hoping that they would magically come into contact with Legolas. The water was now so dark that he could hardly see three inches in front of his face.

Growing desperate, Aragorn twisted in the water and stroke off in a new direction, his lungs already beginning to burn with lack of air. If he was running out, then what of Legolas…

The murky blackness of the lake began to crush in around Aragorn and suck every ounce of hope from his body. It could not be done. Legolas was going to die and it was going to be all his fault.

Please, Please let me find him. Let him live. Aragorn begged silently, his air ways now bursting. If he didn't find the prince now he would have to resurface and then it would be too late, Legolas would go where he couldn't follow.

Reaching blindly out once more Aragorn gave one last distressed reach and felt his fingers brush something large, large and very real. A thrill of excitement shot through Aragorn's heart, making him quiver as he his hand latched on to what could only be the tattered remains of Legolas' tunic

He had one it! He had saved Legolas! He thought with exhilaration as the elf's from become more distinct as the man dragged him upward and closer to him. No, not yet you haven't. the dark voice reminded him as Aragorn finally drew Legolas up next to him.

The prince's fair face and body where distorted by the water, his hair floated eerily as if it had a life of its own. But that wasn't what scared the ranger, what scared him was that Legolas' eyes where closed and his fatally parted lips a startling blue even in the water.

Panicking, Aragorn wrapped a secure arm around Legolas' waist and began to drag him upwards and towards the faint light that would be their salvation. The elf, however, was dead weight and his body hindered their ability to reach the surface. Aragorn, thinking quickly, changed the prince's position, throwing his still bound arms over his own neck and thus freeing both arms for the use of swimming.

The light was coming ever closer and Aragorn felt himself growing lightheaded, his need for air pushing him ever faster even as his limbs began to feel like lead. Legolas felt heavier than he had ever had before, the water seeming to pull as his limp body in one last attempted to keep the elf in its water grave.

And then Aragorn's head was breaking the surface and water was streaming in copious amounts off their faces and hair, spilling back into the depths of the lake. The man sucked in a huge gulp of air, rejoicing like never before how such the simple act could send life flowing.

Taking another large breath, Aragorn craned his neck, trying to get a good look as his friend as he treaded water.

Legolas remained limp, his face hidden by a mass of soggy blonde hair, but Aragorn could feel his face pressed against his neck and more importantly, could feel no intake of air.

"Legolas? "the ranger questioned in a croak, panic reinstalling itself in his system as he remembered that just getting to the surface wasn't enough. Reaching out he and pushed the curtain of blonde hair away. The elf was a starling white, behind several dark bruises, but his lips where such a deep blue that they where edging on black.

"No!" Aragorn cried in desperation, giving the elf a firm slap across the face in hope that he would start breathing. Nothing happened; expect that a trickle of water slipped past the prince's lips and down his chin. "No." the human repeated in disbelief.

Hefting the elf up higher against him, Aragorn stroke out for the shore with a mix of fast smooth strokes and jerky sloppy ones. He needed to get to land immediately if he even wanted a chance to revive Legolas, but he also had to keep the elf's head above water.

The water level began to drop until Aragorn was crawling, his knees and hands slipping on the rocky bottom. Finally, though, his fingers sunk into the mud shore and he slipped out from underneath Legolas' bound arms.

The prince feel like a rock and Aragorn only just caught him before he hit the ground and laid him gently on his side.

"Legolas! Come on, you have got to wake up, take a breath." The human whispered in fear, reaching out and pounding his friend hard on the back. "I'm telling you that if you even think about dying that I will never let you forget it."

Striking the elf with more force Aragorn felt the lithe body quiver but new that it wasn't with life.

"Come one, please." He pleaded in little more than a whisper as he pushed the prince over so that he lay on his back. With an urgency brought on by fear, he pressed his hand down forcefully against the elf's chest. Nothing happened and he did so again, pressing harder.

Legolas chest remained disturbing still and Aragorn let a low, pitifully sob leave his throat.

"Please…" he moaned now begging for Legolas to return to him. Flipping the prince over again, he once again tried to pound life back into him with the flat of his hand.

The wind continued to blow around them, making the liquid on their bodies grow cool quickly and Aragorn's breath frosted in the air as the water lapped at their legs. Legolas lay still.

Aragorn's vision was blurry as tears welled up in his eyes and he let the elf fall limply back.

"Just breath!" he begged irrationally, laying his ear on the prince's chest in hope of hearing a heartbeat. For a moment, all was silent and Aragorn felt his own heart stop beating as tears began to trickle down his face and mingled with the lake water. He had failed. Legolas was dead.

Then, just when his hope was faintest, Aragorn felt something. Legolas' chest had moved…Not daring to breath, he sat bolt upright, his heart pounding against his rib cage so hard that he thought it might burst.

Gently and with trepidation, the human splayed his hand over the elf's heart, waiting with baited breath to see if he had only imagined it. And then Legolas's chest rose weakly again.

"Yes! That is it, Legolas!" Aragorn cried as he resumed the not so gentle smacking of Legolas's back. His voice that had only moments before been filled with loss and desperation now became full of immeasurable amounts of hope and relief.

Legolas' body have a huge shudder as his chest muscles stained urgently, and suddenly he heaved, coughing up a large amount of lake water onto the ground. The hacking coughs continued to shake the prince, causing liquid to spill over his lips and down his front in rivulets. Aragorn grinned, giddy with relief that the elf was breathing.

The first thing that Legolas was area of was pain, a burning all consuming agony that filled his chest and made him want to scream. It was then, that he realized to his uttermost panic that he couldn't breathe.

Snapping his eyes open, Legolas stiffend and atomically attempted to jerk himself upright, but strong hands pressed him back down onto his side, holding him there even when he began to feebly thrash.

"Be calm, Legolas," A familiar voice called, "Just relax and take a deep breath." Aragorn continued the soothing words, but Legolas' coughing only grew worse until he seemed unable to stop.

The coughing soon turned into faint gasps until even they faded, and the elf once again found himself unable to draw in air. He convulsed, digging his fingers into the slimy mud and sweat began to bead his brow, but his lungs seemed to have stopped working.

Aragorn gripped the elf's shoulders hard, slapping him across the face.

"Legolas, Legolas, come on! Not again!" he barked in a quivering voice, taking in the budging blue eyes that were swimming with lack of air and where desperately pleading for him to fix this problem.

Then, at last, Legolas drew in a chocking, strangled gasp, and the ordeal was over.

The elf coughed lightly, relaxing limply into the earth and drawing in as many breaths as he could through the pain that was flaring through his body. He had curled reflexively into a fetal position with his eyes closed. The only sound that filled the clearing was the lapping of water and the wheezing, scratching, raw, breathes, with an occasional, wet sounding cough thrown in.

Aragorn also had clasped into a heap with relief, his thumping heart finally having the chance to calm down, but after a few minutes of silently giving thanks to the Valar that his friend still lived, he rolled over.

"Never do that to me again." He stated, laughing with the giddiness that seemed to envelope him as Legolas opened his eyes just long enough to give him a fervent glare before closing them again with an exhausted sigh. "Do not sleep." Aragorn instantly commanded, crawling forward so that he was next to the elf.

Reaching out he took the prince's still bound hands and began to work free the rope, casting anxious glance at his friend as he did so.

"Come on, open your eyes." He repeated earnestly after a few minutes when Legolas hadn't shown any reaction to his early words. Flinging the rope away into the darkness, he began to chaff the prince's wrist. "I know you can do it."

"I'm fine." Legolas croaked, before coughing harshly and giving a low whimper.

"Right." Aragorn said, his concern now palpable as he worked to free Legolas' feet as well. As soon as the rope fell away from his ankles, the elf slowly and stiffly drew his knees up closer to his chest, shivering violently in the harsh wind that still whipped around them.

The human next to him laid a comforting hand on his arm, shiver slightly also, and looked around. It was nearing two in the morning, they would need to find a safe place to rest and recover before and if the villagers gave chase, but first he had to gather their belongings which he had left behind.

"Legolas?" he asked, getting to his feet and looking down at his friend. The elf opened an eye, but didn't show any other reaction. "I need to go get some supplies, but I'm afraid that the men might come back. I'm going to move you somewhere more sheltered first. Do you need help?" he asked, just to be courteous as he knew the elf was would hardly be able to stand, nevertheless walk.

Legolas made a non committal noise and Aragorn bent down, placing his hand underneath the prince's armpit and hauling him up right. Legolas gasped, teetering dangerously one way and then the next, before abruptly vomiting up more water all over his boots.

"How much water did you drink? The whole lake?' Aragorn teased lightly as he drew the elf's arm up and around his neck, wincing himself when Legolas let out a muffled moan. Wrapping his free around the lithe waist he began to walk them slowly back towards the trees where there would be more protection. "Did they beat you badly?" he asked, a touch of anger rising in his tone.

"Not…as…bad…" Legolas began between breathes, but trailed off as a cough threatened to form in his throat. Aragorn seemed to understand, though, and didn't ask him any more questions. When they reached a small bunch of trees, the man lowered Legolas gently back down.

"You, rest. I'll be right back." He ordered sternly, raising his eyebrows in what he hoped was a good imitation of his father, before stealing off into the dark night.

By time the ranger returned, Legolas was sleeping fitfully, his breathing uneven and labored as his body trembled. Aragorn sighed in concern and dropped the pack he was carrying to the ground with a thump as he couched near Legolas' head.

"Legolas…Legolas. You need to wake up. We need to leave." Aragorn whispered, shaking his friend The elf jerked awake and sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and staring as he sucked in a large breath.

"Where are we?" he slurred, now shaking uncountable whether form cold or shock, Aragorn couldn't tell.

"Don't you remember?" the healer asked, pushing the prince back to rest against the nearby tree least he should fall over. But Legolas was already nodding, calmness stealing back over him as he remembered what had happened.

"I —I just forgot for a moment." Legolas murmured roughly, coughing weakly and hunching over, clutching at his ribs.

"Are they broken?" Aragorn asked, moving closer and running his hands down the side of the elf's chest. A frown creased his brow a moment later as his gentle fingers found what he had dreaded and Legolas gave a sharp gasp, tensing. "Defiantly broken." He stated, sitting back on his heels. "But unfortunately, I don't have anything to bind them with. I don't know what happened to all my healing supplies, but I only took the bare minimum that I had to from Gerda and none of these bandages would be good for binding with."

"All our supplies are back at camp." Legolas grunted, pleased when his voice didn't falter very much and when he didn't have to draw breath in-between words. "I left in such a rush that I didn't grab anything."

"My healing supplies!" Aragorn said excitedly because if he had his herbs, then he would better be able to take care of Legolas then the grin slipped off his face and a frown replaced it. "Can you make it that far?"

"Of course I can!" Legolas insisted, the usual lie leaving his lips with ease. Aragorn hesitated before answering, weighing their options.

"We'll see." He finally settled on before sinking to sit cross legged and shaking out one of the bundles which turned out to be his old, worn, but most importantly warm coat. Legolas glance over, eyeing the dirty article of clothing with some apprehension.

"It won't bite." Aragorn insisted, holding it out. "You cannot deny that you are cold and this is warmer than a cloak."

"I'm fine." Legolas finally said eyes narrowing with distaste as he glared at the fabric, deciding that he didn't really want such a filthy article of clothing covering him.

"Oh come on! It is not that bad!" the human protested with exasperation, guessing correctly what was going on in the prince's head and shaking the piece of leather at him. "Besides, look at the state of your tunic, my coat is in much better condition right now, cleaner too." He added, giving a pointed node to the elf's clothes, reaching out and fingering a long, jagged rip.

"If you washed it occasionally it would be in an even better condition." Legolas grunted, clearing his throat. His voice was still rough and harsh, not the beautiful melodic tune that it use to be and all the talking he was doing wasn't doing it a whole lot of good.

"Washing is only a requirement if you're a prissy elf." Aragorn stated with dignity. He was reward as a smile flashed across Legolas' bruised face as the old joke between lighted the mood. With a little help from Aragorn, Legolas eased himself forward long enough to slip the coat over his sore shoulders before relaxing back, his shivering startling to lessen.

Aragorn stood with a sigh, however, eyeing the great heavens above with a calculating gaze, "We need to move. I do not doubt that if we are found that you will killed."

Legolas nodded and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the challenge ahead. After a few deep breathes, he took Aragorn's outstretched hand and gripped the human's forearm tightly, feeling the ranger do the same to him, before he was pulled to his feet.

The standing position did not agree with his head and for a moment, he thought he would pass out as the world fuzzed together and Aragorn's arm flew up to wrap around his waist. But then the moment passed and Legolas righted himself with care, attempting to pull away from the ranger's arms.

Aragorn snorted in response, tightening his grip and not allowing the elf to pull away.

"You where practically dead just now. Let me help you and be gratefully that I am letting you walk. And if you don't want carried, I suggest you shut up." He threatened pleased with himself as Legolas clamped his lips shut, face stony.

With a shake of his head at his friend's stubbornness, he turned them towards their camp and started slowly off, disappearing into the forest, never to be seen again by the people of the village. They had a long journey was head of them and the consequence of their stay in the town was just beginning.

The villagers, however, after several days of searching, finally decided that Legolas had escaped after knocking out his guard and had summoned Aragorn to him. They never found a trace of them again.

Gerda would mourn the loss of the young man that had been under her constant care for many days and months to come, but after pouring her heart into her work, she was able to overcome her sorrow. Her thoughts would often stray to the young man named Strider and what could have happened to him, but she never regretted taking him in and caring for him.

Damrod, on the other hand, did not have such a happy ending. Greatly displeased with the loss of his 'toy' the man searched the area nearby for weeks after everybody else had stopped and it was said that the fact that the elf managed to escape under his very nose caused the man to become even more brutal and bullying then he had been before. He spent most of his time in the bar; drinking away his troubles as his life of power was disappearing before his eyes. Finally, one night, he went into a dreadful fit after consuming more alcohol then was ever wise and went staggering around, waving his dagger and cursing all elves that had ever walked the face of the earth. Stumbling out into the street he howled and cried until he tripped, landing face down in the mud. When the villagers fond him in the morning, he was dead, having fallen upon his own knife.

TBC...

I promise you guys that the story is not over yet! Just hang on tight and enjoy the ride!

Review Replies:

Free Leaf: Yes, I couldn't let him die, because then we would lose part of our enjoyment. :) Well, I guess that they didn't dicover that, but maybe one day. Thanks!

Nameless: Oh, oh dear. I think I broke you last chapter... Maybe this chapter has done some good and healed you. ;) At least it didn't end in a cliffie! Thanks!