Aragorn.

He had a headache. In fact it was days since he could last remember not having a headache. It was stress he knew, his nerves were on edge and he was tired, so tired of it all. His friendship with Legolas, the friendship he cherished most deeply was a raw wound of misunderstanding and resentment and at times he had begun to wonder if it had ever been what he had thought it was.

Now Legolas had stormed off, hiding himself after a row with Elrohir and despite the confidence with which he had spoken to Gimli he knew he had no chance of finding him, not if he didn't want to be found. Still he had to try.

He thought he had found a trail but deep down he thought it was probably just wishful thinking, perhaps he was seeing only what he wanted to see. The trail was so faint, so difficult to determine he was unsure it actually existed. He had no other leads though and so he followed it, to make himself feel better as much as anything.

He knelt on the forest floor examining some disruption to the leaves he imagined he saw there when the sound came, loud and gut churning. A wailing cry of absolute grief. It chilled him to his bones and he knew it was Legolas.

He moved through the forest at speed, Legolas was not far from him and the knowledge he was in pain spurred him on even faster, he could not bear to hear it. He found him in a clearing alone, on his knees his head thrown back, tears streaming down his face. He was a vision of utmost distress and it wrenched his heart to see it.

He did not pause to think, he did not take time to gather his thoughts. His friend was in trouble, he did not know why, did not know what had happened but he knew he couldn't stand aside and let it continue. It took only a few paces for him to cross the clearing and drop to his knees in front of Legolas. He took him in his arms, pulled his head down to cradle it against his chest.

"Legolas, I have you. All is well, All is well."

His eyes searched the clearing for any sign of what had caused this grieving, this outpouring of pain but he could see nothing, find nothing. As he held him for a moment Legolas quietened and he felt his body relax leaning in against his own. His breathing slowed. It would be alright he told himself, he would fix this and he poured all his healing energy over his friend. To be able to comfort him in any way lifted his heart from the deep places it had retreated to. How difficult it had been to watch his pain and be unable to offer some physical reassurance.

But the moment of connection did not last, in fact all it achieved was to lull him into a vulnerable position. Too late he noticed Legolas stiffen and felt the struggle within his arms and before he could react to that he was on his back having been on the recieving end of an elbow to the jaw.

"Legolas!" He cried

But Legolas wasn't listening, in fact he doubted he even saw him. Before he could recover fists rained down upon him and it was all he could do to raise his hands to protect his face. He rolled to the side in an attempt to put some distance between them and struggled to his feet dazed and confused.

"Legolas, it is Aragorn, I will not hurt you."

Legolas's eyes flashed and he snarled as he advanced towards him crying out to him in Silvan that he struggled to keep track of.

"I will kill you! I will get revenge and you will pay. For Erynion I do this!"

He stumbled back hands out in submission.

"I am not them Legolas. It was not me that hurt you, I am your friend!"

His blood ran cold when he saw Legolas draw one of his knives, where were the others? Would none of them come?

He knew he was in serious trouble for he could not draw his sword upon his friend, not when he was this distraught, not ever. The first swing he dodged clumbsily although effectively but that was never going to last, Legolas was too fast.

He cried out when he felt the knife slice through his arm and collapsed on the ground grasping at his wounded arm and feeling the blood flow through his fingers. Still Legolas came at him, brandishing his knife. He could not accept he may lose his life now, have it taken by his dearest friend. His soul cried out in grief for he knew Legolas could not survive this. It would kill them both.

"Legolas! Stop this!"

The cry took him as much by surprise as it did Legolas who swung his head around.

Gimli!

He could have wept in relief and he slumped against the ground as Gimli stepped in between them.

He could barely breathe. Each breath was like fire out of his lungs. He listened to Gimli plead with Legolas to give up his knife but the words were jumbled and nonsensical in his brain.

"Brother, What has happened?"

It was Elladan beside him and he leant against him thankful for the support.

"This is my fault." He hissed through the pain.

He watched as Gimli edged closer to Legolas and he saw Legolas's gaze turn to him. He saw the confusion sweep over it as suddenly the realisation hit exactly who it was he had been fighting.

He heard Legolas's quiet gasp,

"What have I done?"

And his heart wept for him, for the pain this would cause him, his friend who was already so broken.

He sunk into Elladan, allowed him to provide comfort, his older brother who had been there as long as his memories existed. He did not know what to do, how to fix this, his arm ached, his head throbbed and Legolas...could they recover from this?

He watched with a numb detachment as Gimli extracted the knife. It all seemed a long, long way away from him, in the far distance. But when Gimli turned placing the knife behind him he saw Legolas staring right at him, eyes wide and frightened. Frightened of him or frightened of himself he did not know. He could see the thoughts flit through those eyes and he knew the exact moment Legolas decided to flee.

"Gimli!" He cried in alarm, for Legolas was now unarmed, wounded and seemingly unstable, they could not afford to lose him in the trees again.

But he was too late and Legolas too fast. He was gone before Gimli even had a chance to turn around.

Legolas.

When he left Elrohir behind and headed for the woods he did not intend to stay long. He simply wished to clear his head and calm down after the argument and he was sure the trees would provide him the security he needed. It seemed far too long since he had last been amongst them.

But something in the forest seemed wrong, a clash with his fea, discordant and harsh. It worried him. Trees, the woods should not feel like this. The wrongness drove him further and further into the dense foliage. What was it? He needed to find out. Perhaps there was danger here and he should return to the others, warn Aragorn all was not well.

On and on it dragged him, nagging at his senses, he felt he should know what this was. At last he came across a clearing. The warning screamed at him, 'flee, flee' and he almost did but in the end he swallowed his fear and stepped across it.

With careful eyes he scrutinised his surroundings. To his surprise it was familiar, he felt as though he knew every leaf, every branch there was here but he had no idea why. He stood still and silent struggling with himself to remain. And at last it came back to him, why he knew this place. He had been here before.

He remembered it now, surrounded by men, chained to one of these trees. Memorising the shapes of the leaves above him to sidetrack himself from pain and fear, he would not show those to his captors. As he gazed around he found it, the place Erynion had been held and for a moment it was as if he was still there. Tied with chains, pale and tense his eyes pleading and in the end his voice crying to Legolas to help him.

He closed his eyes trying to shut out the visions of his friends last moments, the fear and the blood, so much blood. He had died here and he, Legolas, had failed him. He had been lulled into a false sense of security. He had not paid enough attention but had allowed the sea to distract him that day. That was why they had ended up here, that was why Erynion had lain dead at his feet in this very place. He had not been able to save him and the men had killed Erynion to hurt him, to laugh at his pain and watch him break.

The weight of the unspoken guilt he carried was too much and he collapsed beneath it screaming out his pain unto the world. It was as if a dam inside him had broken and all the grief and agony he carried poured out. He could not stop it.

He was unaware of anything except his grief until seemingly from nowhere arms encircled him, a voice whispered words of comfort and he wanted that so badly. He sunk down, down into the embrace and the grief subsided, but not for long. He reached out to touch the fea of the one who held him and it was then that he noticed it, the familiar feel of the one who had whipped him and beaten him, the one who had slaughtered his friend, A Man.

He had failed Erynion before but he would not fail him now, this man would pay. He tensed up and launched out slamming his elbow into the man's jaw to free himself from the now threatening closeness of his arms. Then he could not stop himself, rage burst forth and he attacked. The face of the man who sliced his blade through Erynion's throat danced before him. It had to be him come back to this place, who else?

Again and again he hit out with his fists until the Man rolled away, out of his reach.

"I will kill you," he screamed not bothering to listen to anything the man had to say in return for it would only be poison and lies to torment him. Then he drew his knife and launched out. He would cut this Man's throat as Erynion's had been. Let him feel how it was to have your life blood spill on the ground.

He felt a rush of joy when his blade struck home for he had caused him pain but then as he moved to attack once more a voice cried out, a voice he hadn't expected here.

"Legolas, stop this!"

He turned his head,

"Gimli?"

It made no sense to him, Gimli should not be here, he was in Minas Tirith, he had been riding to meet him when they were captured. He stood, uncertain as Gimli walked in front of the Man.

"Put down your weapon," Gimli said but he hesitated. Was this a dream, did his mind play tricks on him?

Behind the dwarf the Man spoke,

"This is my fault" he said.

And Legolas looked at him,

And he saw him.

On the ground, blood pouring from his arm, his face a mess of fresh livid bruising was Aragorn, his friend. The horror of it all exploded into his mind. It was Aragorn he fought, it was Aragorn he had hurt. He could not breathe.

"What have I done?" He gasped.

It was incomprehensible to him, that he could have done this. How did Aragorn get here? Where had the Man gone, the one who killed Erynion? He knew he had been here, he knew it.

"Where has he gone? Did you see him?" He asked Gimli, desperate for him to tell him this wasn't real, that he had misunderstood. Surely it was that Man who had injured Aragorn, not himself.

But Gimli denied it.

He began to shake, he felt his world was collapsing around him as he stood there. This could not have happened, he could not have done this. Gimli asked again for his knife. He had forgotten he even held it and now he gazed upon it, shining silver dripping with blood. Aragorns blood spilled by his hand, he could not bear it.

It felt to him his sanity, his grip on reality was being slowly crushed by the horror of his actions. His heart pounded and he struggled to catch his breath. What should he do? How could he make this go away? It was the Men who had done this too him, the ones who held him in this place. The ones who killed his friend here where he stood. Still they hurt him, still they tormented him. He wanted it to stop. He wanted everything to stop.

He let go of the knife watching it as it fell, light glinting on its edges. It was a beautiful thing, beautiful and terrible. The symbol of his weakness, his betrayal of Aragorn. He dropped to his knees and touched the blood. The blood of his friend covered his hand and tore at his heart. When the knife cut him he didn't feel it. The pain was nothing compared to the agony of his heart but he watched as his blood spilled, mingling with Aragorn's and it felt fitting somehow that he should share in his pain.

Come now Legolas," Gimli said softly, "This will not do. I will have none of this foolishness, we do not need you hurt as well."

But he did want to hurt, he needed it badly to wipe out the damage on his fea.

He lifted his head to look at him

"I did not know," he said, " I did not know it was him."

Gimli had to understand that, he had to let him know it was not Aragorn he had done this too. It was NOT. But he was unsure that he truly understood it although his words were reassuring and if Gimli thought so badly of him...perhaps it was true, there was no coming back from this.

So when Gimli turned away he saw his chance and with a last look at Aragorn's anguished face he ran.

Into the trees, away from his nightmare. As far away as he could get.