This is No Mere Ranger Chapter 3

And yet again, I survived! That was a long chapter! Geesh! Thanks, guys for the reviews, gginsc, Gillbo333 and EysiraLaenya! It makes me very happy to see that you all don't think that it's a complete train wreck! I apologize for the slight errors I've made (and probably will continue to make, sadly) and thank you for bringing my attention to them.

wenduo—I agree with you, it is very annoying! I've always wanted to know if his hair is actually blond or not! There is a place in one of the books (I can't remember which one) where it states that the stars shine upon Legolas's dark head, and that is the closest I think that it comes to saying that Legolas has dark colored hair like many of the other Sindrian elves in the book. Though his father does have blond hair… sigh, I don't know, I just felt that it would be interesting to see how it feels if he has dark hair. If it bothers you too much, I can change it back, of course, because I like Legolas with both colors of hair. Thank you for the review!

I promised you some slash in the last chapter, and it didn't really happen, so I'll give you some good stuff in this chapter. Basically, this chapter is going to encompass Legolas's and Aragorn's return journey to Rivendell, and they're going to figure out who the other actually is, so this should be interesting. And I might throw in some stuff to make this more dramatic about Legolas's shoulder not healing because the arrow was poisoned, or something. I don't know, maybe not. We'll see. I am writing this completely by the seat of my pants with just a few general ideas, not usually something I do. (Bites nails nervously). O_O

Anyway, without any further ado, third chapter, enjoy everyone! And as usual, feel free to just give me some things to fix/add/change.

Legolas came to slowly. His head was pounding as if a dwarf was mining his brains straight out of his skull, and his shoulder burned as he moved it. He could hear the crackle of a fire and feel its warmth against his back. As he moved, he felt that he was naked from the waist up, save the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. So the human hadn't replaced his shirt, but covered him with a cloak. His cloak. It smelled of the human, a musky smell that no elf had. Legolas kept his eyes closed and inhaled the man's scent for a few moments before he turned over to look at Estel.

The man was seated opposite him, across the fire. He looked down at his hands which were stretched over the fire. He seemed to be lost in thought, and did not notice Legolas was awake until he sat up. Estel looked over at him from under heavy-lidded eyes. "You have awoken, at last," he said.

"How long have I slept?" Legolas asked, pushing himself to his feet swiftly. Too swiftly, for his head swam. Perhaps he had lost more blood than he had thought initially.

"The rest of the day. It is almost dawn." Estel stood as well and steadied the elf with one hand to his uninjured shoulder. "It would do you well to sit back down. Your body is still healing."

"Where are my weapons? Legolas pushed the man's hand off of his shoulder and felt around his waist for his knife belt, which wasn't there. Estel went over to his things and pulled Legolas's bow, quiver, sword and knife out from under his own weapons belt.

"They are safe. I must insist that you sit down. You must eat something and drink some water to quicken your healing," Estel said. He laid his hand on the elf's shoulder again and pushed him down. Legolas let him, mostly because his head wouldn't stop swimming.

"Why did you not wake me before? I must make haste to Rivendell?"

"We will leave at first light and arrive by midday without horses," Estel said. "Worry not. You needed to rest." He went over to the fire and brought the water skin over and handed it to Legolas. "How long had you gone without sleep?"

Legolas wrapped his hands around the neck of the water skin and tilted it back. The water felt like a soothing salve on his parched throat, and he drank long and deep for several heartbeats before handing the water skin over to Estel, who had crouched beside him. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Five days," he said. "Since the Orcs began trailing us."

"Why do you come to Rivendell?" Estel asked, setting the water skin down and shifting slightly closer so that he could inspect the bandage.

Legolas held perfectly still so that he wouldn't be tempted to move away. There was something about the man's closeness that rubbed his fur the wrong way. It made him feel hot and bothered, and Legolas did not let anything make him feel hot and bothered. That this human could accomplish this without even trying annoyed him to no end. "That is the business of the lord of Imladris, not you," he said coldly. Estel paused, his fingers a few inches from Legolas's shoulder. He grimaced, set his jaw, and didn't reply for several long moments.

"I must see if your wound fares any better than it did earlier," Estel finally said. Legolas nodded after a moment and moved to work at the tie of the crude bandage. His fingers, however, brushed against Estel's instead of fabric. The man's hands were rough from sword and bow, but they were strong and cool from the light air. Estel wrapped his fingers around the elf's and gently pushed them away from the bandage. "Davo eithad anech," he murmured. Legolas found that he could not draw breath, and his heart picked up tempo inside his ribcage. Normally, he would have ripped his fingers out of Estel's and snapped a retort to get him to leave, but he could not seem to remember his wits at this moment. And so, Legolas, proud wood-elf who needed no help from anyone, simply nodded.

Estel let go of his fingers, though he didn't want to. The elf's fingers had been so smooth, except for the few callouses that came from his bow, and as slender and graceful as a harpists'. He could not find words for several moments, and simply held his hand near the tie of the bandage. Estel took a deep breath and slid his fingers under the knot. It took his fingers several attempts to fumble the tie, and he cursed himself inwardly. Finally getting it, he began to unwind the makeshift bandage.

Legolas watched the human with relief. His air had returned to him once the man had let go of his fingers, and he had taken in a deep breath and tried to calm his heart through pure will alone. Though the human's closeness did not help. His hair was right there, and if Legolas wanted, he could reach out and touch it, to see if it truly felt different than his own or that of his kin and the eledh.

And then, suddenly, his fingers were twined around the strands. He had not remembered lifting his hand, or uncurling it from a fist. It felt as soft as his own, and he did not let go.

Estel froze as he felt the elf's fingers slide into his hair, and a shiver went down his spine. By all of the stars that graced the sky, that felt good. But what on earth was the elf doing? He looked up, the bandage forgotten. Legolas looked as shocked as himself, but he did not pull away, did not make a move of any kind. He was waiting for Estel's reaction.

Estel was caught between the two choices that he had. He could pull away, and go to the stream naught but three fathoms away and regain his composure, or he could lean in and capture the elf's lips with his own. His body urged him to do the latter, while his mind prodded him to the former decision. He was torn for several long heartbeats. His body and mind fought for control over Estel's will in those moments, and then he pulled away, his mind a victor.

He unwound the bandage as quickly as he could and carried it away to the stream. He felt hot all over. It was the best end to that situation, his mind whispered to him. If a simple touch can affect you so, what would a kiss have done? But he ached to go back, to sink down next to the elf and wrap him in his arms, to whisper the words of a lover into his delicately pointed ear, to trail his tongue over the point and to gently bite the lobe—

No, he told himself firmly. I will not let him affect me this way. He dipped the bandage into the stream and then began scrubbing the blood away forcefully.

Legolas watched the human, feeling something coil tight in his stomach. Dread or excitement, however he could not decipher. He had seen the desire in the man's eyes, had seen the internal battle he had waged in the few seconds they had been in contact. Why had he allowed himself to be so weak, to reach out and touch him? A prince of Mirkwood could not love a mere human. His father would never stand for it. His father.

Legolas sighed. Yes, he must remember his father's quest for him above all else. The survival of his whole people rested on the balance of Legolas's shoulders. Legolas felt the darkness settle back around his heart, the deaths of his kith and kin and the worries of his realm recapturing his attention once again. It had been a sweet few moments, to lose himself in the human's alluring gaze, but he could not allow such weakness again—

"Legolas," Estel said, just loud enough for him to hear. Legolas snapped his head towards the man, who had not turned around. "Tolo. I must clean your wound."

Legolas turned away and took a deep breath before standing up. His head had stopped spinning since he had drank the water, and he found that he could walk again. He picked his way down the gentle slope to join Estel at the edge of the water. Estel did not look up at him for a long moment, and his hair was a curtain between them, making it impossible to see the emotions on his face.

Estel pulled the dripping makeshift bandage from the water and wrung it out forcefully. He should have waited longer to call Legolas over, his heart was still beating quickly. He wrung the portion of his shirt out once more, if only to give him more time, and then looked up at Legolas. The elf's face was wary and the sorrow that had haunted his eyes was once again present. He looked away from the elf's face and down at his shoulder, though he wasn't really seeing. Estel stared blankly at Legolas's shoulder for a good long minute before he slowly blinked. All he could think about was the wood-elf's finger twining through the locks of his hair.

Maybe one kiss would get this strange, immediate attraction out of both of their systems. Perhaps… Estel set the rag down slowly and looked up at the elf, who was still looking at him warily, as if waiting for an attack. He reached out and grasped Legolas's shoulder, the uninjured one. Legolas's muscles twitched underneath Estel's palm, but he made no move to retreat. "Man ci?" he asked. "How have you managed to lay such a spell upon me?"

Legolas's eyes widened, but he did not get the chance to answer. His lips crashed into Estel's as the man yanked him forward, as if he could wait no longer. Legolas was frozen at first, his body utterly unmoving. The man did want him; it had not been a trick of the light. His body soon remembered itself and he wrapped his arms around the man's waist and brought him closer.

Estel made a noise of approval against Legolas's lips, and drew back, just long enough to make sure that the elf hadn't torn his shoulder. He caught a glimpse Legolas's surprised face before he leaned in again and captured the elf's lips in a kiss of such passion that it surprised even the man. This time, Legolas began to come to life in Estel's arms. He slid his hands up the man's muscled stomach and cradled Estel's face in his hands, his lips never leaving Estel's.

The man wrapped his own arms around Legolas and drew him closer, deepening the kiss. Legolas felt a shiver go down his spine as Estel ran his tongue across the elf's lower lip, and then their tongues twined together.

Estel felt as if he was on fire. Every brush of the elf's body against his was an inferno of flame, and he was alight with it. As their tongues danced, Estel wondered if he would perish in this fire. It felt so good, too good. Physical sensations of this amount of pleasure should not exist. He feared that he could get drunk on it and never stop.

Legolas pushed Estel to the forest floor after a few moments, running his hands down the man's sides once again, finding the clasps of his shirt. Legolas needed to feel skin against his, Estel's skin. The man broke away from the kiss and helped Legolas, who was being none-too-careful with Estel's shirt, ripping it in places when it took too long for the clasps to come undone. His long black hair trailed down on either sides of his face, spilling onto Estel's face and neck. It was cool, the only thing to be so, and the man gasped, raising his hands from his sides to draw the elf closer to him, to feel more of that blessed coolness against his burning body.

Legolas paused, his shoulder twanging. He could not bend over Estel in this manner. He grimaced, and Estel's eyes, clouded with passion, immediately cleared, though the desire did not leave them. "Baw," he murmured, pushing the elf back. "Let me."

"Are you certain?" Legolas paused, resisting the man pushing him onto the ground.

"Aye," Estel whispered, pushing the elf down into the grass. The elf relinquished after a moment, and allowed Estel to start trailing a hand down Legolas's chest, to his tight as a drum stomach. As Estel rolled over to replace Legolas's place, he slid the shirt off of his torso, and the elf reached up to touch his stomach, sliding his fingers over the muscles with something akin to fascination. Estel's breath hitched, and he leaned down and trailed kisses along the elf's jaw line, down his neck.

His skin was beautiful by the moonlight, as pale as the moon itself and smooth save the wound that marred his shoulder. Estel wanted to taste every inch of it, see if he could taste the moon. Legolas gripped Estel's shoulders and let out a soft sound of pleasure as Estel's teeth nipped at his collarbone. He attempted to tell Estel to stop, before he should lose himself completely in these feelings, but he could not get the words past his lips, and all that came was a noise that Legolas would have never made in his right mind.

"Does your shoulder hurt?" Estel whispered, mistaking the elf's wordless exclamation as one of pain. Legolas shook his head, and brought the man back up to his lips so that he could devour them. Now Estel made a noise, just as embarrassing as the elf's, but he was so lost in the sensations that he hardly noticed.

"My shoulder does not pain me," Legolas said between kisses. He ran his hand down the man's bare back, fingers trailing over his spine, feeling each knob. Estel shivered again. This was too much, the sensations that this elf could bring to his body with just a few strokes of his slender fingers should not be possible. He drew away, partially to catch his breath, and partially to catch his wits, for both had been lost since he had felt the elf's fingers in his hair. He positioned himself so that he could lie next to the elf, and still bury his face in Legolas's neck.

They stayed like that for several moments, arms and legs tangled together in a haphazard manne, both breathing hard. As they finally caught their breaths, Estel extricated himself. "I do not want to tear your wound open," he said as Legolas made a noise of discontent. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Legolas's lips, light and airy, so chaste that it was hardly a kiss at all. Legolas could feel his shoulder now that he wasn't paying attention to Estel, and he knew that he had perhaps taken a bit too far.

"Very well," Legolas said, though it was grudgingly stated. He sat up next to Estel and placed a hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, a hunting horn blared in the distance. Estel stiffened, and was on his feet in an instant, running for his sword. He turned and tossed Legolas's bow to him as he saw that Legolas had followed him.

"What is it?" Estel murmured, drawing his sword and holding it out in front of him. "It did not sound like the hunting horns of Imladris."

"I know that horn," Legolas said, his blood running cold. "Estel, we must leave now. The Orcs have found their dead kin, and they will be on our trail soon. We must reach the protection of Imladris before they catch us, or we will be dead. They have the wargs and we have no steeds."

Estel nodded, handing the elf the rest of his weapons quickly. He went to the stream once again and pulled his shirt on, fastening it as well as he could in his haste. Legolas watched him, silently urging him to be swift. Estel tossed the elf his cloak, for his shirt was still back in the clearing. Using the remaining water to dampen the fire, Estel and Legolas took off at a run towards the main path that would lead them to Rivendell, and to safety if they could manage to get there fast enough.

They ran through the forest with the speed of the wind itself for quite some time before they heard the wargs behind them. Estel glanced back. Six Orcs were tailing them, and gaining fast. Legolas looked back as well.

"We will never outrun them," he shouted to Estel. Estel looked around. It was true, they could not run faster than the wargs for long.

"The trees," he panted after a moment. "We can escape them in the trees."

"They will simply wait us out. We must make haste to Imladris," Legolas replied, looking over at the man, who was trying to find another way.

"We could make for the river," Estel said.

"Or we could stay and fight," Legolas said, grasping his bow and slowing. Estel paused as well and drew his sword.

"Are you certain your shoulder is well enough to aim properly?"

"I will manage," Legolas said, drawing an arrow. "Dago i goth!" he shouted, and loosed his first arrow. An Orc let out a squeal of pain and fell off of the warg. The next arrow hit his beats, which also went down. Estel grasped the hilt of his sword more tightly. The Orcs were gaining on them fast, and they would have to act quickly to avoid injury.

The Orc in the front drew his blade and parried Legolas's next shot. He was an ugly brute of about a fathom and a half of height and a club in one hand, a sword in the other. His warg looked as if it had survived many battles, with one eye clouded and a nasty scar down its muzzle. Legolas shot again, this time at the Orc directly next to the leader, who fell to the ground. The Orcs were almost upon them, and Estel raised his blade. He was directly in the path of the leader, and set his sights on where he could strike him.

The Orc came level with them and swung his sword at Estel's neck. Estel leaned back, feeling the blade disturb the air a few inches above his head. He spun to the side to avoid the club coming down on his when the sword missed, and swiped his sword out desperately at the beast as he passed beside Estel. His sword caught the warg's leg and the beast snarled in pain and fell.

The Orc clambered none too gracefully off of the beast and raced at Estel, loosing a war cry that sounded more like a roar. Estel staggered, trying to regain his balance before the Orc fell upon him, but he didn't quite manage to align his body the right way, and the sting of metal in his leg caused him to cry out. He quickly recovered and slashed at the Orc, cutting through his guard easily and slicing into his chest. The Orc let out a roar and tried to swing at Estel again, but the man disarmed him with a quick movement and stabbed him quickly in the torso. The Orc let out a sound that was in no way human, and pulled Estel closer along the blade, pulling himself onto it. He was taunting him. Estel tried to get his sword out of the Orc's stomach, but the creature resisted. He snarled in Estel's face, and smiled, revealing sharp teeth.

Suddenly, an arrow punched through his chest, and it was soon followed by another, and then the Orc fell, taking Estel down with him. Estel ripped his sword from the Orc's body, causing one more inhuman sound before the creature lay still. Estel struggled to get out from under the body, grunting as he scraped the cut on his leg over a sharp branch. There were sure to be more Orcs, and he did not intend to die half trapped under an Orc's body.

His sword was just out of his grasp, and he reached for it as he saw the paws of a warg pad closer to him, languidly, as if the beast had all day. Estel gritted his teeth and stretched, but he couldn't quite wrap his fingers around his sword handle. He cursed in the men's tongue, something the men to visit Imladris had been very happy to teach him, and kicked at the Orc's body with all of his might. It did not budge.

Estel felt the shadow of death over him for the first time in his life. The warg's hot breath stirred his hair, and he could hear the low growl in his ear. He looked around, as if he could find a solution to his mishap, but none came for several moments, and the warg's breath continued to ruffle his hair. Suddenly, the answer came to him as the strap of his quiver dug into his chest. An arrow.

He reached behind him and swiftly drew an arrow and stabbed into the warg's paw with as much strength as he could muster. The warg howled in agony and struggled to move away, jaws snapping at Estel's hand.

There was a shout that was not that of Legolas, and Estel froze as the sound of hoof beats sounded, growing closer. Estel twisted around, and saw Legolas surrounded by the remaining three Orcs, keeping them at bay with his knife with as much skill as he had with the bow. He looked to be unwounded, save his shoulder, which had started bleeding again. But Estel's attention was drawn beyond the elf, as white horse poured into the clearing. Arrows were swiftly loosed and the Orcs and wargs fell dead to the elves' deadly accuracy.

A horse galloped to a few ells from Estel's still outstretched hand, and feet landed lightly next to his sword. "'Estel," a familiar voice said urgently. "You must hurry. There are Orcs swarming through the valley. We must make haste to the fortress." Estel craned his neck upwards even further so that he could see the elf.

The weight of the Orc was lifted off of Estel's legs, and he leapt up, grabbing his sword. The elf nodded his greeting, and Estel looked at him in shock. "Haldir, what brings you to Imladris?" he asked in shock. The Lorien elf smiled at him grimly.

"We ride to Imladris to discuss the oncoming threat. There is something that has covered all of the realms of Middle-earth in darkness, and we plan to discover what it is. The Lady Galadriel is already with Lord Elrond. They are awaiting our arrival." He swiftly re-mounted his steed. "We must make haste. There are more Orcs on our trail, and they are not far behind." He held out a hand and Estel took it, swinging up behind the elf.

"Wait, what of the other elf, Legolas?" he asked. He looked around, but could not see Legolas on the ground anywhere.

"The elf that was travelling with you?" Haldir asked, looking back at him. Estel nodded. Haldir shouted a few words in Sindrian and an elf answered, bringing his steed up. "How fares the Mirkwood elf?" Haldir asked. The man, who had blond hair like his captain looked back.

"We pulled him up onto horseback, but he is not conscious. His shoulder is wounded," the man said in Elvish. Estel immediately turned around even more, trying to see where Legolas was, but Haldir spurred his horse into action before Estel could get a good look and he had to turn around to avoid falling off.

"Are you certain the elf's name is Legolas?" Haldir asked as he leaned over his horse's neck, urging him to go faster.

"Aye, what of it?" Estel replied. Haldir did not reply to his question. Instead, he turned and looked back at the company of Lorien elves.

"We ride fast and hard to Imladris," he shouted in Elvish. "Time is of the essence." He lowered his voice again so that only Estel could hear. "Hold onto me, Estel and rest. Your legs are weary and I do not want you to fall." Estel looked down at his leg. The blood soaked his pant leg, turning it a darker color than it had been before. As if the sight of the wound had made the pain come, Estel suddenly felt slightly faint. He did as he was asked and leaned his head against Haldir's shoulder. The darkness that had been swimming at the edges of his vision for some time overwhelmed him in a rush, and he was lost to the conscious world.

"Hir vuin, Echiou." A voice cut through Legolas's sluggish mind, a woman's voice, gentle and calm. He was not asleep, was not unconscious, but he could not seem to move. His shoulder burned as if it were on fire, and he longed for water. He attempted to open his mouth, to beg whoever was shaking him to stop, to douse him in the river instead, but his lips hardly twitched.

"What ails him?" this voice was familiar and Legolas tried to open his eyes. Estel. "That wound was only a shallow cut. Eldeh heal from these kinds of wounds quickly, do they not, Ada?"

Ada? Legolas thought. He is on such familiar terms with Lord Elrond that he can call him Ada? Legolas had not believed Estel when he had said that he was son of Elrond. But here was the proof. Before he could dwell on that much longer, Elrond answered Estel.

"Aye, they are meant to. However, there is a poison in this wound that is weakening him. His heartbeat is slowing and his blood congeals in his veins." This voice held authority. Estel had called him Ada, which could only mean one thing: this was Lord Elrond.

He had done it, he had made it to Rivendell. Legolas let out a sigh. Now all he needed to do was to tell the Lord of Imladris that he must send armies to help Thranduil. Legolas struggled to speak, tried to open his mouth again. Two hands pressed down on his shoulders. "He is awake, but not fully," the woman's voice said again. "You must heal him, My Lord."

"Aye, I must. For he was carrying an important message and we must still hear it. Estel, go fetch some water."

"Yes, Ada," Estel said, and Legolas heard him leave the room on quiet feet. He paused at the door. "Haldir spoke of something that addles me," he said after a moment. "He asked if I was certain the elf's name was Legolas. What meaning has this name?"

Lord Elrond moved away from Legolas. "He did not tell you who he was?"

"No, he did not. He only said that he had to make haste to Rivendell to talk to you."

"Legolas is the son of the king of Mirkwood, Thranduil. He is a prince, next in line to the throne," Elrond said softly. Estel was silent, and Legolas longed to see what emotions flickered over his face.

"Is that so?" he asked quietly. Legolas heard him take a deep breath. "I will fetch the water as you requested." His voice was no different than before. Legolas sighed. Perhaps he had guessed it before. Estel was sharp and did not miss much. Perhaps he would have time to speak of it when he recovered. Right now, however, the elf needed to rest. He let out a long, deep breath and relaxed. Darkness overwhelmed him, much like the darkness that overwhelmed his realm. He succumbed to it after a moment's hesitation, for this darkness was not the evil kind.

"Rest now, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." Elrond's voice chased him into the shadows.

Yay! Done! As usual, all constructive criticism is much appreciated. I just love Haldir as a character. I don't really know if he ever visited Rivendell, but I think that it would make sense that if Galadriel could come to Rivendell, he could too! And I needed someone important to come and save everyone!

I should probably increase the rating just to be safe. There probably won't be as much heated stuff as there was in this chapter for a while, but just to be safe I might.

While we're on the topic, did that scene suck as much as I think it did? Please let me know if you want anything changed/added/fixed/removed, because I'm not sure if I did it well enough. Anyway, thanks again for all of the reviews and views and stuff. I really appreciate it!

Now, Elvish!

Davo eithad anech—Let me aid you
Eldeh—elf/elves
Tolo—come
Man ci?-Who are you?
Baw—Don't
Dago i goth—Kill the enemy
Hir vuin, Echiou—Awaken, my lord

As usual, please let me know of anything that I missed regarding the Elvish! I will update soon! Thank you!