A/N Alright! Lets do this thing! Hehe, after a slow start the real fun begins... *maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh*

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter Six

Aragorn tightened his grip on Legolas as they rounded a sharp bend and felt him take a deep breath. Mentally counting down, he only made it too three before the elf began to cough raggedly.

"Easy now, Legolas," he soothed, pushing the horse to go a little faster as he adjusted his grip on his friend. The dark trees of Mirkwood loomed overhead with an ominous feel to them, but here on the elven path Aragorn figured they should be perfectly safe. He hoped.

"I'm alright," Legolas wheezed out in annoyance, glaring ahead at the path. They had only been traveling for a few hours, but his body was already feeling the effects of the journey and he wasn't thrilled to say the least. He could tell that Aragorn was beginning to question his wisdom in bringing him along instead of someone else and that frustrated him more than anything. If only his father and friend would see that he didn't care what happened to him as long as they made it to Rivendell in time, then the trip would go a lot smoother.

The horses trotted along, but the prince and the ranger remained silent. Legolas, for reason that he couldn't speak without coughing, and Aragorn, for the forbode growing in his stomach. The trees were growing more... dark, for better word to describe it.

"I'll be glad to leave this forest," he muttered under his breath, cursing the evil that resided in Mirkwood once again. His eyes flickered over the tree tops, and snapped to the side as he thought he heard a sound. Almost without thinking, he let go of Legolas and let his hand drift towards the handle of his sword. Something snapped overhead, and he jumped violently.

"Twitchy, aren't you?" Legolas mumbled. He twisted his head to look at his friend's face, before dropping it back against the man's shoulder. His puffy eyelids seemed to be wanting to close on themselves and it was with great effort that he was keeping them open.

"You would be too if you weren't use to it." Aragorn words carried an undertone of fear and Legolas reached out, squeezing the arm that was wrapped around him. He was too tired for words. Closing his eyes for just a moment…he was rudely brought back to reality as Aragorn twisted beneath him and the horses pulled to a sudden stop.

"Wha—" he slurred out, but Aragorn clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shh…" he whispered, and waited until Legolas had nodded before releasing him. Being silent was easier said than done. While he had been sleeping, which had been longer then he had thought if the scenery was anything to go by, phlegm had been building up in his lungs and his body wanted to be free of it. Chocking back a cough, Legolas felt his eyes began to water and the already tight bands around chest beginning to strangle him. Aragorn did not appear to notice his dilemma, and still sat half turned in the saddle with ears pricked for whatever had alerted him so. The horse shifted nervously to the side.

At last, Legolas could hold his breath no longer and he let it out swiftly. But as soon he as he tried to suck in more air, his lungs began to force the unwanted phlegm out. Coughing once, he tried to still the sound, but couldn't. Aragorn whipped around at the noise, his hand flying to his sword. He breath a sigh of what was a mixture of relief, worry, fear, and annoyance all in one, and touched the elf's shoulder in concern. Legolas waved a hand, but his coughing continued, sounding ever more dangerous.

"Legolas, can you answer me?" the ranger asked calmly, his other fear forgotten for the moment as he tried to get the elf to look at him. Legolas nodded, but couldn't get the words out of his mouth as the coughing ripped through him. "That's it." Swinging off the horse, he reached up for Legolas and pulled him off despite the elf's continued hand waving that was suppose to signify that he was fine. Guiding him gently to the ground, Aragorn began to smack his back in an attempt to loosen the phlegm and stop the coughing. Legolas kept shaking his head, even as he felt himself falling forward onto his hands.

Aragorn abruptly stood, and Legolas' watering eyes attempted to follow his friend. Suddenly Aragorn was crouching next to him once more, armed with a flask. Tilting the elf's head back, he administered the drink slowly. Legolas' hand came up, clenching at his wrist and attempting to pull the drink away from him as he only choked worse on it.

And then his mouth was filled with the strange, stringy, substance that he had become so familiar with the past few weeks. Spitting the phlegm out, Legolas began to gasp air in desperately. Aragorn's steady arm reached out him, holding him steady.

"Easy, just take it easy," he was saying as he brought Legolas back up to a sitting position, offering the flask once more. Legolas took it with clearly trembling fingers, but the man continued to hold it for him as he took a swig.

"We should go." The words were exhausted and carried none of Legolas' usual tone, causing Aragorn to look closer at him. The fever spots on his face were growing more pronounced as his faced paled, and his eyes were closed in weariness.

"Alright," Aragorn agreed after another quick glance around the forest. Reaching out to pull Legolas back up he pulled up short, a flash of confusion flickering across his eyes, before he grinned.

"Legolas," he said pointedly, making the elf open his eyes to give him a confused look. "You are not wearing any boots." The prince gave him a surprised look, and then glanced down. He was just as shocked as Aragorn had been to see his bare feet and stared at them with clear confusion. Aragorn began to laugh.

"It is not funny," Legolas protested, though he was having trouble hiding the smile that was spreading across his face.

"I beg to differ," the man giggled, taking the elf's arms and pulling him upright. The elf blanched perceptibly and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the world from spinning around him and the man immediately grew serious again. "Take it slow, don't rush," he murmured, squeezing his shoulder softly in reassurance. "Let your..." abruptly he froze. Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head to the side.

"Legolas, what is that?" the asked, pointing at something out in the forest. Legolas looked at the spot, squinting as he tried to make it out.

"Aragorn, I can hardly see five feet in front of me," he reminded, closing his swollen, red, eyes and rubbing them. Aragorn shrugged apologetically and began lower the elf back to the ground. "No, please, Estel, let's just go." He managed to snag Aragorn's sleeve as the man stood straight, but the man shook him off gently. "Are we not in a rush?"

"I will be less than two minutes," Aragorn said, ignoring the rest of the elf's protest as he made his way towards the trees.

"No, you won't," Legolas whispered, biting his lip nervously. He had a very bad feeling about all this and just wanted the man to get back up on the horse. Against his better judgment, though, he gripped the horse and used it for leverage to heave himself up. Limping heavily forward, he used the trees as support.

Ahead of him, Aragorn stopped.

"Oh…" he heard him breath and squinted hard to see what it was.

There, crumpled in a large ball with it legs twisted grotesquely upright, was a dead spider. The bright red and interact marks under its belly revealed it to be one of the orcs spiders, but it's eight eyes were scarily, but thankfully, blank.

"Aragorn, come back to the horses!" Legolas almost begged and Aragorn jumped violently.

"What are you doing here?" he demeaned as he jammed his hands onto his hips.

"I don't like this, please, let's just go." Legolas gave the man a desperate gaze, his pale face darkening with fear as his eyes flickered around the area, taking everything in a way that only a warrior with years of training could do. Aragorn took a step closer to the spider, fishing in his pocket for something. "They travel together. There could be more, please, Aragorn."

"Legolas, think. If this spider had died only recently than I could still collect some venom and that would be priceless. It is for Mirkwood's good!"

"No."

"If we have the venom, some pure venom, then Ada could find the cure ten times faster. Wait here, don't exert yourself." Moving forward, he tuned out the elf's continuing protest and pulled a corked bottle out of his pocket and dumped is contents out. Pulling a face, he buried his nose in his sleeve as the smell of the dead spider hit him. The pincers would not be easy to reach.

Cursing softly, Aragorn was just reach out to part one of the hairy legs when his sense went into instant full alert and began to scream at him with the force of a thousand voices. Dropping the bottle he grabbed his sword and looked up just in time to let out a shout and dive to the ground. Not even a second later, a second large spider with almost identical markings hit the ground, it's middle only just missing the human. As it was, the spider's leg caught him in the middle of the back and pinned him to the ground.

Aragorn's air left him with a woosh, but he didn't waste time as he violently threw his weight to the left. The sudden jolt surprised the spider and he managed to pull free seconds before the pincers came down a second time. Spinning around, Aragorn rose as his adrenaline spiked and yanked his sword free. Holding the weapon at arm's length, he slowly circled spider, which hissed and jabbed it's two front legs at him.

The spider made the next move. Scuttling forward with a speed Aragorn did not anticipate, he just jumped aside, slicing at its leg as he did so. Green, thick, blood spurted out and the spider gave a keening cry as it scrambled back, only to charge once more.

The spider was just as lighting fast as Thranduil had described and once again Aragorn found his life was spared by the skin of his teeth. He rolled into a dive under the creatures belly and found himself staring up at the bloated bag Thrusting his sword up, a trick that Aragorn has used before when fighting spiders, he was foiled as the spider leapt forward and began to climb the nearest tree in jerky movements.

Jumping up, Aragorn slammed his sword with all his might into the already wounded leg that was dragging behind. The scream that filled the air would have made a dwarf plug their ears, but Aragorn only dug his sword in deeper, yelling himself. The spider appeared effectively pinned and he let go of his sword to draw his knife. Backing up a pace, he twirled the knife and hurled it at the spiders head.

As if in slow motion, the spider gave the loudest scream yet and as the knife twirled through the air, ripped its own leg free of its body as it let go of the tree and fell knife missed by mere inches as the spider toppled back, waving it seven legs widely. It hit the ground with a crunching thud. And Aragorn had not been quick enough to jump back, ending up under its left side. The spider wiggled it hairy legs, blood gushing through the hole in the body and splattering thickly on the ground. Aragorn gave a cry, grunting with effort as he tried to escape. Digging his fingers into the ground, he began to inch out from underneath the monster. His veins began to pop in his arms as he strove with all of his might, but the spider was heavy.

The spider screamed again, and Aragorn felt it shift in his direction.

"No!" he gasped out as he grappled with the ground in a frenzied attempt to move forward. But the spider paid no head to his words as it managed to roll all the over him and gain it now wobbly legs.

Dazedly trying to get too his own feet, Aragorn found his head was swimming dizzingly and he ended back up on the ground. He tasted blood and realized that his nose was gushing a fair amount, but paid no further head. The spider turned to him, unsteadily moving forward as it clicked its pincers ominously.

A trail of green blood marked its progress and Aragorn scrambled to his feet, backing up as quickly as his body would allow. His back hit a tree and he fumbled desperately with his boot knife as the pincers came ever closer. The ranger was caught, and Aragorn saw his life start to flash before his eyes. The spider loomed in front of him, blocking out all else. The pincers were lowering and the man knew that he was going to die. If that venom could take out an elf, then he had no doubts that he would be dead within days of being injected.

Just as he yanked his knife free, the spider gave a screech of pain and reared back. Aragorn caught a glint of silver imbedded perfectly in the spider's head and felt his heart leap with joy. He had forgotten one factor, a very important factor. That had been perfect aim, and Legolas never missed, and he had not missed now despite the fact that could hardly stand straight.

The spider lurched back, screaming for all it was worth, and fell backwards. Giving a war cry, Aragorn lunged forward with his own knife clutched tightly and imbedded it to the hilt in the spider's eye. Still yelling, he twisted it deeper until fowl blood was gushing over his hands and only let go when the spider gave an almighty heave, wrenching it free from his hands.

Backing hurriedly away, Aragorn cried out as the back leg caught him in the chest as it jerked violently. The spiders, it is last dying act, slammed him up against a tree, to which his head connect sharply with. Everything abruptly began to tunnel and he felt his knees give out as blackness overwhelmed him.

Legolas sucked in as much as his tired and sore lungs could handle, watching the spider twitch in its death throes.

"Aragorn!" he called out hoarsely. Hobbling forward, he tried again. "Aragorn, answer me!" Silence was his answer, and Legolas felt panic enter his soul. Small pools of green blood dotted the ground and he gingerly picked his way across, still calling the man's name. With each unanswered call, his chest grew tighter and his heart began to beat double with fear.

He didn't even notice as his overworked lungs began to spasm. After days of lying in bed, the sudden exertion did not agree with them. Tiny black spots began to dance in front of his eyes, but he did not stop. He had to find Aragorn, he had to make sure he was alright.

His knees gave out, and Legolas folded to the ground only to push himself back up. The spider was still twitching and Legolas gave it a wide breath as he tried to stagger forward. His chest was hurting just as if someone had stabbed him and the ground was spinning in all directions. He could no longer tell what was up and what was down.

Coming around the spider like a drunk man, Legolas felt his heart drop as he caught sight of Aragorn. The man was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, not moving.

"No," Legolas mouthed, not able to draw enough air to be able to say the word. He couldn't see the man's chest rising and falling form his position and horror crept over him, further paralyzing him. The world around him began to narrow as black lined the edges. The ground was rushing up to meet him and that was the last thing he saw before the wave of blackness closed in around him.

TBC...

Oh deary me. Both of our heros seem to be having trouble. ;)

Review Replies:

WoodElfJedi: Hehe, yup. And as you have read, this next one was even better. :) Well, maybe not from your prescriptive... And no...no orc attack as of yet. Though as you just witnessed...spiders attacks? Yes. Thanks so much!

Bellasiel: Did you really think I could leave him behind? No, too much fun to be had. :) Oh dear, look what kind of trouble you got Legolas into? Hehe. Thakns so much!

Idon'tliketoast: Yes, I would agree that all the elves need hugs. The poor people... Hehehe, yes, this is me we are talking about. :) Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, as see above. :) Thanks so much!