A/N I love guys. :) That is why I am giving up the chance for a nap so that I can post. If that isn't love, then I don't know what is. ;)

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter Nine

Aragorn rotated his head, standing to ease some of the weariness and soreness in his own body that come from sitting in chair for several hours. Looking down, at the still elf in the bed, he frowned. It had only been a week since the elf's rescue, but he was only showing marginal improvement. The fever had left him completely, but he still spent most of his time sleeping.

Clasping the prince's shoulder lightly, the king rubbed at face. Exhaustion was creeping up on him and he longed to go find his own bed, as it was well past mid-night, but Legolas needed him here. The window, which was open in an effort to coax Legolas into a sense of security, allowed a dart of cold air to sweep through the room and Aragorn shivered. He thought about getting up to close the window, but thought better of it. The fresh air was doing just as much good for the elf as all the herbs and bandages the king could provide.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took in Legolas' gaunt face. How he hated to think of Legolas' being a prisoner underground and in the dark, for more than a month. He had been all alone, no one had been there to help him along. Resting his chin on his fist, Aragorn felt his emotions rising. Where was he when Legolas had needed him? He had been safe, warm, secure. He had been happy. All the while, Legolas had been miles under his feet, in pain and in fear.

Aragorn abruptly rose to his feet, pacing the now well-known path by the elf's bed as he wrung his hands. Legolas let out a small sound in his sleep and his head twisted slowly to the side, facing the open window. Aragorn slowed, a wan smile touching his lips. Yet here Legolas was. He was far from well, but he had again survived with a stubbornness that could only come form him.

Legolas moaned again, his eyes moving under their lids as he shifted, only to let out a sharp gasp and flinch away as he jostled on of his many injuries.

"Legolas?" Aragorn stopped his restless pacing, and crouched near the prince. The elf didn't stir again and he rose. The prince would have to wake soon and be given another dose of painkiller, but if he could sleep a little longer, than it certainly wouldn't hurt matters. Moving over to the small table, the king began to shift through it's contents of herbs. His fingers worked quickly and efficiently, but a frown suddenly darkened his face and he stopped. He didn't have enough remaining herbs to mix up another batch of medicine, he was going to have to go get some more.

Striding back over to the bed, he clasped the elf's shoulder. "I'll be back, just give me ten minutes, mellon-nin." Taking one of the two candles lighting the room he placed the other closer to Legolas, just in case he woke, before hurrying to the door and closing it softly behind him.

All was still. Except, that was, the candle. Aragorn had unthinkingly placed it right in the wind stream, and it began to flicker, dancing back and forth with vigor until with a slightly stronger gush of air, it went out, plunging the room into blackness.

It was as if an inner alarm went off in the prince's system as his eyes jerked open. Finding himself starting up into nothing but blackness, Legolas breath caught and his heart froze.

"Aragorn!" He hated the fear that was in his voice but he could not help it. He reached blindly out for his friend, his fingers grasping at nothing as his breathing rate began to increase. The darkness was crushing him, he couldn't see, couldn't breath. Any moment Dirheal was going to come, he hadn't escaped, he hadn't been saved. It had all been a dream. Panic was crashing over him waves and Legolas began to gasp. He clutched at his hair as he rolled into a tight ball, not realized in his state that he was free from all bonds and that a warm, comfortable, bed was beneath his body rather than water and stone.

"Estel!" he rasped out as his breathing rate only continued to increase. Yet no reply was made to his desperate plea and he stiffed a low sob. He couldn't breath, he couldn't move. Everything around him faded and the overwhelming blackness converged upon him, chocking him and snuffing out all else. Therefore, he didn't hear the door open or see the flood of light that was closely followed by a sharp exclamation of his name.

Aragorn was moving before he even really knew what was happening. He had opened the door to find the room dark but as his own candle illuminated the area he had instantly caught sight of the elf. Leoglas had rolled himself into a ball and his hands were clutching his head, as if to ward off an attack. His heart sinking quicker than he thought possible, Aragorn dropped to his knees by the bed and grabbed the elf's hands, wrestling them free.

"Legolas, Leoglas, come one, look at me," he commanded, further trying to uncurl the elf. But Legolas was lost into another world and he had folded into himself so tightly that the healer couldn't move him with force. "Legolas, I am trying to help." Squeezing his hand inbetween the elf's bunched together limbs, he found the elf's neck. His pulse was racing erratically and as he slipped his hand over the prince's mouth he found himself shocked at the rate of intake.

"Legolas, you are hyperventilating, I need you to calm down." The elf still did not recognize him and Aragorn shook his head. Force was going to necessary. Prying the prince's body out of the ball just enough be able to work with him, Aragorn positioned himself so that the elf would have to go around him to curl back up before clamping his hand over Legolas' mouth and nose,cutting off his air supply. Legolas jerked and his eyes flew open to gaze with unveiled panic at the man. Aragorn only smiled soothingly, letting go long enough for Legolas to pull in a gasp of air before once again closing off his air supply. The terror and fear slowly began to fade from the elf's eyes as Aragorn continued to apply the method. He would cut off the elf's air for a few seconds, allow him to take a breath, and repeat it again until his breathing had to returned to something more resembling normal. It was still to fast, but Aragonr was satisfied and lent back, keeping a hand on the elf's shaking shoulder for support.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. Legolas nodded shakily, though it didn't escape the man notice that he once again curled up into a loose ball. "No, you are not."

"I'm fine, Estel," Legolas whispered softly. He didn't meet the man's eyes as the ranger pulled the blankets up to cover him, but sighed. "I-I just wasn't...prepared." He gave the the king a wan smile as he took a steadying breath.

"I'm sorry, Legolas. I stepped out for just a minute to grab more herbs. I left a candle burning..." the man trailed off, rubbing his chin as he looked at the now smoking candle. "I'm sorry."

"No...no it not your fault. I-I,"

"Don't you dare apologize," Aragorn warned, pointed his finger threateningly towards the elf. Legolas fell silent and the man simply wrapped his arms around him. He laid his head against the elf's arm and they didn't move for the longest time as Legolas found comfort in the assurance that he wasn't alone, that this wasn't a dream. He was still shaking when he finally voiced some of what he was feeling.

"I hated the dark worst of all." Aragorn looked at him,nodding slowly. Legolas scoffed, and the man tightened his grip on him. "I...I almost," he broke off and Aragorn raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to go one. "I almost looked forward to Dirheal's 'visiting' me because at least I had light then. But then he would leave and I would be in the dark once again with no hope of getting out." His voice was stiff, and Aragorn could only shake his head dumbly. They remained that way for the better part of the night, until Aragorn had calmed both of their souls enough for Legolas to slip into an fitful sleep and for him to be able to let the elf go.

NOFINERFRIENDS

Knocking loudly on the door, Madoc cleared his throat, holding his hands behind his back as he announced himself to the room at large. The first part of their plan was well underway. His blue messenger's uniform that had been stolen from its original owner itched slightly and he had to curl his hand into fist to keep them from attacking the cloth. How normal messengers went around with this every day, he would never know.

"Yes?" Aragorn asked, sounding slightly annoyed with the interruption as he turned around to face him. There was no spark of recognition in his eyes and Madoc smiled inwardly. The king placed a steaming bowl of broth onto the table and the assassin assumed that Aragorn had been trying to wake the elf to eat…his last meal he couldn't help but thinking.

"I am to deliver a message to the king from Faramir, Steward of Gondor," Madoc intoned professionally, pitching his voice higher to better add to the disguise. Aragorn nodded, waving a hand for him to continue, which Madoc did, steadily meeting the king's eyes as he did so, "He says that he needs to talk to you about an urgent issue that has come up."

"Did he say what was so important?" Aragorn asked, as his face tightening in worry before he glanced behind him at the motionless elf. Madoc would have smiled gleefully, but chose instead to answer the king's question.

"No, he said that it was a matter for only the King's ears. He wants you to follow me," he said, pushing gently. Aragorn again let out a sigh and gnawed slowly at his lower lip, glancing between Legolas and the door. Madoc could almost see the moment that Aragorn made his decision.

"Fine, give me just a moment." Standing up, the king turned back to Legolas' side and let his hand hover over the elf's shoulder. "Leoglas?" Madoc had to fight to remain calm as the elf stirred, his eyes flickering open after a couple of prods from the man. "Legolas, I am going to step, alright? I shouldn't be gone long." Legolas nodded once to show that he heard. His eyes remained focused trustingly on the king and Madoc smirked.

Quickly the assassin and the king left the room, Madoc leading the way. He hoped in to give Dirhéal, who was lurking in healing halls, enough time to finish the job.

NOFINERFRIENDS

Eldarion scampered hurriedly down the corridor, glancing behind him with an almost guiltily expression as he did so. He had escaped from his mother while he was supposed to be taking a nap, and half feared that she had heard him and was going to follow. She would then stop him from going to see his father at the healing halls, where he had expressly been forbidden to go without an adult.

But Ada is there! Eldarion justified to himself, As well as Uncle Legolas! Grinning at the thought, the small boy added a small skip to his step as he passed a large, old looking painting that decorated the walls. Maybe Uncle Gimli would be there as well and they could play together, or even better, maybe Uncle Elladan and Elrohir could come and they could all play!

These happy thoughts erased the lingering guilt over escaping and directly disobeying his mother, and the boy continued on his merry way, swinging his arms as he walked. Nearing the healing halls, Eldarion slowed his pace, the guilt and maybe a little bit of fear creeping back up and installing itself in his heart. What would his father say if he knew that he had disobeyed his mother? After all, Ada had talks with him if he showed Nana, what was it, oh, disrespect. Men, true good men, respected women.

Ada won't be mad, Eldarion decided as he stood on his tip-toes and turning the brass handle down. Mommy said after all that he wanted to see me, just couldn't, so I am just making it easy for him.

The door handle clicked and with all his might, the young boy pushed it open just far enough so that he could slip in, before letting it go with a relieved sigh.

Trotting down the pristine hallway, the boy peered in door after door, looking for his father's familiar form. Instead, he found other healers, or sometimes common folk, gathered around bedsides that contained just as various people. Finally, a kindly old healer woman took pity on him and pointed him in the right direction.

Finding the door he wanted, the young prince again reached up on his tip-toes and silently pushed it open. The door was much lighter than the first door had been and it opened without a squeak. Eldarion peered through the gap he had made ready to run into the chamber and climb up onto his father's lap.

However, it wasn't his daddy who was bending over the figure on the bed, it was a guard. Backing hastily out, Eldarion was just about to assume that he had the wrong room yet again when the solider moved slightly and he caught a flash of golden hair. Uncle Legolas had hair like that! Out of curiosity, Eldarion lifted himself up on his tip-toes. To his great astonishment, he found that is was indeed Uncle Legolas on the bed.

Opening his mouth to shout out in excitement, the boy froze, the cry dying before it left his lips. Some was wrong, horribly so, with his Uncle.

His face wasn't its normal color, but a strange rather purple color instead and his eyes were bugging out in way that scared the young prince. Hunching back up against the door with fear, the boy's eyes flew to the guard's hand which were wrapped tightly around his uncle's throat and felt his stomach seize up. He got in trouble if he ever tried to grab someone by their neck.

As he watch, unnoticed by the door, Legolas began to writhe, freeing himself abruptly form the other man's grip.

What was the guard doing? Why wasn't he helping the elf who was obviously in trouble? The men who had sworn themselves to Gondor always helped him if he needed help. Just as Eldarion was about to scream out for the man to do something, the guard blurted out a word that Eldarion knew was a naughty word to say.

"Hold still!" the man growled, adding the word onto the end again. The man swung atop the bed, straddling the elf and wrestling with him as Legolas tried to lunge away. To the boy's horror, he slammed his friend forcefully up against the wall. Legolas wasn't fighting back very well and the sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out with a smack. The man raised his fist again and Eldarion wanted to turn away, but he was rooted to the spot. He watched as the man hit his Uncle again and again. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach grew and Eldarion slunk back, unable to watch anymore. Letting the door shut softly behind him he flinched and covered his ears as another strike sounded.

Turning away, he hurried down the corridor, the earlier bounce in his step gone. Where was his Ada? His Ada could fix all of this, he fixed everything. What that man was doing couldn't be right, it just couldn't. Eldarion began to run, faster than even when he was trying to escape his nap and practically flew through the healing halls and back through the doors. From there he just ran full out. He didn't know where he was going, because he didn't know where his father was, but he had to run.

It was a miracle that Eldarion found Aragon as swiftly as he did, for it seemed that he had barely began to run when he heard raised voices. Veering over in that direction, the young prince found himself out in the garden's of Minis Tirith where everything, except the colorful flowers, seemed to tower over him. Running on, he used his finely turned ears to follow the argument, which he was almost sure involved his father's voice.

Sure enough, when Eldarion crashed into an enclosed clearing he found his Ada in a deep argument with another man, who appeared to be a messenger. Crying aloud with relief, Eldarion pumped his short legs even faster until he collided with his father's legs and hugged them tightly.

"Eldarion? What is wrong?" Aragon asked in concern as he looked down in surprise. Instantly he dropped his previous conversation and bent down to be at eye level with his son. Big, fat, tears streaked his fear filled, yet innocent, face and Aragorn gently wiped them away. "Are you hurt?"

"Ada…" Eldarion moaned, clutching his father who embraced him, holding his head against his chest and making soft, soothing sounds. "Something, something is wrong with Uncle Legolas!" he whimpered between shuddering sobs.

Aragorn's eyes grew wide and his mouth opened, his face softening inexplicitly, "Son," he began, thinking that Eldarion had gotten a glimpse of the tortured elf.

"And –and the m-man! I think he was h-hurting him!" Eldarion wailed over his father, more tears leaking from his large, grey eyes. Aragorn froze, confusion playing across his face. Behind him Madoc let his eyes slip shut with horror and disbelief. Of all the things to ruin their plans, it had to be a child.

"What do you mean, Eldarion?" Aragorn asked quietly, his gaze boring into his little boy's face.

"They were, were wrestling; only it d-didn't look like w-when we do!" Eldarion balled, one small pudgy hand coming up and scrubbing at his eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. He was scared, really scared, of what he had seen. He had never truly felt this bone deep fear before and wasn't quite sure how to deal with it.

Aragorn's mouth dropped open and he started at the boy in terror.

"No," he whispered, his heart starting to pound as he realized what was happening. "No!" he exclaimed again, louder this time.

"I'm not lying, Daddy!" Eldarion wailed, but Aragorn was no longer listening. Turning, he started to run, only to swivel back and pulled his still crying son up into his arms. Clutching his small, trembling body close, he took off once more. The "messenger" followed along behind, an ugly look on his dark face.

No, no, no! This is all wrong! Aragorn thought as he pumped his legs as hard as he could. He had promised Legolas that he would be safe, that no one would harm him. Had he both lied to and failed his friend? Oh, why hadn't he posted guards around Legolas' room! He knew that Dirhéal was still at large and that he might try and make another attempt on the elf's life, but he had never thought that he would try it in the middle of Minis Tirith. Legolas was now paying for his error in judgment, perhaps with his life.

It seemed to take far too long for Aragorn to reach the healing halls, each second that flew by reminding him that Legolas could already be dead.

Reaching the rooms at last, the king burst through the doors savagely, causing Eldarion to scream something as he clutched at his father's tunic for dear life. Aragorn kept running, flashing past doors as they tried to reach Legolas' rooms. What in Middle-earth had he been thinking, placing Legolas so far down the corridor!

He skidded to a stop just before he slammed into the door that led into Legolas' room. Remembering the child in his arms, he twisted around and shoved the protesting boy into the messenger's arms who had almost crashed into him when he had stopped.

"Take him far away from here," Aragorn ordered. "Take him to his mother." With that, he forced the door opened and barged in. When he did, he found that what Eldarion had told him was true, horribly so.

Dirhéal was perched on the bed, straddling the elf as he slowly suffocated the life out of him with a pillow. A gleeful look shone on his face and Aragorn felt sick, especially on seeing that Legolas wasn't even aware enough to fight back.

"You!" Aragorn bellowed, making Dirhéal jump and twist, his grip loosening momentarily on the pillow. The king charged forward and Madoc entered the room behind him, dropping the child on the cold, hard, floor as he did so. Eldarion remained curled up where he had fallen in terror, watching the action through his fingers.

Dirhéal lunged forward right as Aragorn came hurtling towards him and they collided at the edge of the bed. Aragorn's force carried them backwards and into the wall, where they crumpled in a heap of swinging arms and legs on top of the bed. They began to wrestle violently for control, each trying to gain the upper-hand anyway possible.

Legolas, meanwhile, was still in a dangerous place. Though the barely conscious elf had managed to push away the pillow that had been suffocating him and take a strained breath, Aragorn and Dirhéal where crushing him. Gagging once on his lack of air as they rolled over him, Legolas weakly pushed at their pair, mouthing Aragorn's name as a wheezing rasp left his lips.

Madoc swear loudly behind them and reached into his chest pocket, drawing out a four inch dagger. He, for one, wasn't going to die today. Moving in quickly, he was about to target Aragorn when he half tripped over the huddled form of the king's son. Staggering to regain his balance, the assassin again cursed, pushing the child over harshly with his foot. Suddenly, his eyes flew back to latch on the boy and a sly grin crept over his face. They had lost control of the situation, and the rules that he strictly followed were being shoved out the door. He was sorry for child, but his life was more important at the moment.

Legolas, Aragorn, and Dirhéal fell to the floor with an window rattling crash as the bed tipped under their combined weight and sent them cascading down to the ground along with a shower of blankets and pillows. The linen further hampered their movements as it captured their limbs and for moment the two concentrated on freeing themselves rather than killing the other.

Aragorn managed to disentangle himself first and grabbed Dirhéal by the shirt collar, slamming him forcefully back into the stone ground with a sickening crack. The man was momentarily stunned as blood began to leak from the nasty gash to the back of his temple, and Aragorn leaned back, using the advantage he had gained to catch his own breath. Less than a minute later, they had latched back onto each other and where rolling across the floor, locked in a deadly embrace.

Legolas lay in a heap, half-way under the tilted bed as he struggled to draw in enough air to satisfy his worn and battered body. Some of his wounds had reopened and crimson stains were being to dot his shirt. Closing his eyes, he let out a gritted moan, trying to ignore the fresh pain blooming through his body. Before he could do so, however, a high pitched, terrified scream cut through the air.

TBC...

Oh dear. Dirheal and Madoc are back at it. Tsk, tsk. The end is near, however, so I can't drag it on forever.

Review Replies:

feuilleblanche: The final chapter is coming soon! Well, you still have a few chapters left, but we are getting close to the end. Thanks!

Elven Princess: Haha, that pretty much sums it up! I love my cliffies, partly because it keeps the readers coming back. Books don't have to do as many because their readers are more likely to come back, if you get what I am saying. Thanks!