The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

A/N: THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed, or added this story to their alerts/favourite. I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

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Chapter 16 – The Hunter And The Prey

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Six Years Later…

"Legolas!" Aragorn screamed over the roar of the driving rain. "Legolas!" It was impossible to see any kind of distance ahead of him through the haze of water pouring relentlessly from the raging, thunderous black skies overhead. The lightning, although providing only a fleeting streak of white light to illuminate the land around him, offered Aragorn no momentary insight into his missing mentor's whereabouts.

Legolas' orders, firm and non-negotiable, had been to keep running no matter what and for a long while they had both done just that but it wasn't long before Aragorn had found himself running alone. Deciding that this was one of those incidences where he considered it appropriate to blatantly ignore whatever Legolas had ordered him to do, Aragorn was currently racing back the way he had come through the sludge that now consisted of mud and filth washed from the surrounding area by the storm.

"Legolas!" It was dangerous, he knew, to be running back along the same path, shouting carelessly into the face of the Enemy but he would not leave his mentor behind. Between them, they were good fighters but Aragorn still did not like the idea of them getting separated; he liked it even less now that Legolas had drilled the idea into his head hours ago when they had first engaged the armed Orc patrol that they should stick together to stand a better chance of survival.

Aragorn ran with caution, knowing he couldn't afford to fall now; there were too many hostiles around willing to pounce upon the weak. Despite his care, the risk was great as the path on which he was now running was perilously slippery.

"Legolas!" the man yelled desperately; panic beginning to hammer ever harder in his chest. "Legolas!"

Suddenly, Aragorn stopped dead when the sound of growling, shouting Orcs drifted through the weather to reach his ears. Clutching his sword tighter in his hand, Aragorn paused for a moment, tossing his head from side to side in the vain hope of seeing something in the darkness, trying to decide whether to hide or carry on searching for his missing mentor.

He came to the conclusion that he could not attack any large number of Orcs without backup and he would be of absolutely no use to Legolas if he ended up dead due to his foolishness. So he abandoned the muddy trail and stumbled into the maze of stripped-bare trees. He ran a little way off the path then skidded to a halt behind a particularly large trunk.

Breathing heavily, Aragorn squinted through the driving rain just as the rows of Orcs came marching by. They carried torches high in the air to light their way, uncaring whether they were spotted. As they moved past, Aragorn searched their disordered ranks for Legolas. To his immense relief, he saw no obvious flash of bright steel or golden hair indicating that Legolas being held hostage was amongst them.

"Damn it, Legolas," he breathed angrily, shifting up into a crouch.

Abruptly, strong hands grabbed Aragorn from behind, one securing him around the chest, the other clamping firmly over his mouth so he couldn't call out the alarm. Panicked, Aragorn struggled in the strong grasp, clawing at the attacking hands.

"Will you stop struggling," a familiar voice snapped in irritation, low and dangerous.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, his question muffled by the hand that remained over his mouth.

"Keep quiet," the Elf whispered harshly in his ear.

In reply, Aragorn shrugged heavily and muttered, "Let me go then."

Legolas let out an amused chuckle but released Aragorn as requested. "I told you to run."

"I did." The young man turned to face the Elf now that he was free, relieved to discover that he was seemingly unharmed. "You said you were right behind me. Where did you go?"

"Nowhere. Come on, let's get out of here," Legolas told him, going to stand.

"Wait, what about the Orcs?"

"There are too many for just the two of us to engage."

"But this was your idea in the first place!"

"Perhaps I was a little overly ambitious on this occasion."

"So, we're just going to let them go? We've been following them for three days. You dragged me all the way through this dead forest for nothing," Aragorn ground out, remembering to keep his voice low even though the Orcs were moving away from them by now.

"Put it down to experience," the Elf told him flippantly.

"Experience?"

"A lesson in forest warfare." Impatient with his ward's arguing, Legolas took his arm and dragged him reluctantly to his feet. "Come on, you've killed enough Orcs for tonight."

With a heavy sigh, Aragorn nodded in agreement. His sword, stolen from an abandoned house he and Legolas had searched just a couple of months ago, was indeed stained with enough black blood for now. Orcs were crawling all over these lands; it would not be difficult to find more if the need presented itself. There was time yet to slake his lust for the slaughter of the foul creatures allied to Mordor.

Legolas led his ward deftly through the towering trees, heading in the opposite direction to the disordered ranks of the Enemy to avoid further confrontation. The rain had by now thoroughly drenched them, making their goal strangely moot, but they nevertheless moved quickly in the search for shelter. Legolas ran ahead, leading Aragorn nimbly through the barren forest almost as if he knew where he was going.

One second, Aragorn was running along full pace behind the Elf and then the next a deep, sharp pain shot up his back and he tripped, falling to the sodden ground with a cry.

"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted, already hauling the man up off the ground where he was knelt in shock, well aware of the pounding feet of the Orcs, having been attracted by the man's impulsive cry of pain, now hurrying towards them. "Come on," Legolas encouraged, throwing Aragorn's arm over his shoulders and wrapping his own arm around the man's waist for extra support whilst using his free hand to hold onto his knife, praying they could get out of this without a fight.

The rain, that Aragorn had earlier branded a curse upon their hunt, now became a blessing, for whilst Legolas could see no more than a few feet in front of him, it also meant that the Orcs were unable to easily spot them, giving them a chance to escape from the lumbering, largely unskilled monsters on their trail.

By Legolas' side, Aragorn stumbled along, partially held up by his Elven companion.

Aragorn didn't seem to feel the full extent of the pain at first. The pounding rain, almost solid and freezing against his skin, numbed the area of hurt that had stung initially but faded rapidly. Still, he was stunned at what had just happened. His mind had gone oddly blank. All he knew for certain was that his legs had to keep moving, that he had to keep running; this was what he heard Legolas continuously telling him, as if trying to drill into his muddled mind a new mantra for their increasingly ill-fated journey.

Once Legolas felt they had gained sufficient ground on their enemy, he abruptly changed course, literally dragging Aragorn down a slope partially sheltered by trees and skidded to a halt in the mud, confident that the rain would quickly wash away any signs of the route they had taken before the Orcs could catch sight of them. He pulled Aragorn down to his knees as gently as he could and pressed him back against the muddy embankment to ensure that he was hidden.

Sure that they were well enough hidden for the time being, Legolas dropped his weapons and turned his full attention to the young man breathing heavily at his side. It was obvious even to one with little training in the art of healing that Aragorn was in shock.

When Legolas went to prise Aragorn's jacket and shirt apart though, the man grabbed his arm and tried to shove him away.

"Get off!" Aragorn shouted above the sound of the rain.

"I am trying to help you."

"Let go." Aragorn struck out at the Elf, panic overwhelming reason for a brief moment.

Snatching Aragorn's arm to stay any further protests, Legolas pressed his free hand to the man's cheek, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Hey! Calm down," the Elf demanded in a strong tone. "I need you to calm down so that I can help you."

Clearly this tough method worked, as Aragorn nodded slowly, finally listening to what the Elf was telling him.

Now that he was able to look properly at the wound, Legolas was satisfied that it was not life-threatening. Nodding, the Elf assured, "Alright, it's not too bad."

Gritting his teeth and shifting away from Legolas' hands now that his examination was complete, Aragorn ground out, "Are you sure because it hurts like…"

"You'll be fine." Legolas removed his pack and delved around inside to find one of his shirts, off of which he tore the sleeve to use as a bandage. Pressing down hard, unfortunately drawing a yelp of pain from the young man, Legolas told him, "Keep the pressure on this to stem the bleeding."

As Legolas pulled Aragorn's shirt closed, he heard the harsh sounds of the Orcs shouting out the order to find the two runaways. Legolas sat up straight and knew he had to make a snap decision.

"We have to go," he told Aragorn in haste, pulling the top of his pack securely closed once more.

"Go where?"

To Aragorn it seemed an utterly ridiculous suggestion to start moving again in the wake of his injury and with a significant number of Orcs out there still baying for their blood but he awkwardly pulled his jacket together all the same. He trusted his guardian with his life, after all.

"I don't know but we can't stay here; it's not safe." Legolas swung his pack over his shoulder and retrieved his knife. "Can you walk?"

Realising that he didn't have a whole lot of choice in the matter, Aragorn nodded. "I think so."

Legolas got up and peered over the muddy ledge, trying to keep his footing on the slippery slope, to check to see if the Orcs were anywhere close by. The rain was beginning to ease off by now but it still offered some cover. He could not see any Orcs and could only hear their gruff calls in the distance. But the same rain that now aided him and Aragorn, also aided the Orcs he realised. Aragorn was perhaps correct when he cursed the weather.

Confident that they could move safely, Legolas took Aragorn's arm and instructed, "On your feet."

Hauled to stand up, Aragorn leaned against the Elf to gain his balance and waited a moment for the dizziness to pass.

"Come on." Legolas slung Aragorn's arm over his shoulders again and guided him back through the trees. Despite the boy's stumbling gait, Legolas moved quickly, nimbly leading the way with caution through the wood. One part of him was concentrating on Aragorn's well-being but the majority of his mind was focused on where exactly the Orcs were. He was prepared to fight if necessary but with Aragorn wounded, he'd rather avoid it if at all possible.

Running as fast as they could through the forest, or what remained of the decimated forest anyway, it didn't take the two vastly superior beings long to escape from the vicinity of the Orcs. Despite the distance they had managed to put between them and their prey-turned-predators, Legolas pushed them further onwards. He never allowed himself to become complacent around the creatures of Mordor, having had too much experience with them in the past.

"Legolas!" Aragorn gasped after a while.

"Earlier I saw some caves; we'll head for those." Legolas slowed, laying his free hand against Aragorn's chest to steady him. "Can you make it?"

Aragorn moved his eyes, shining with worry, to Legolas. "I don't like that you asked me that."

"Excuse me?"

"You're concerned for me."

"I don't understand."

Taking a moment to regain his breath, Aragorn shook his head and said as if Legolas should already know, "When you're concerned it concerns me."

"Oh. My apologies."

"So, caves?"

"Yes. It isn't far," Legolas assured as they briskly walked through the thinning, empty trees. "And you are going to be just fine. No need to be concerned."

"Thank you." When Legolas looked across at his human charge in confusion, Aragorn explained, "For lying to me."

Chuckling softly, the Elf said, "I would not lie about this, Aragorn."

The caves, as Legolas had rightly assured him, were not far, and Aragorn was relieved when he was at last able to sit down. Out of the rain, Legolas pulled their bags off his shoulders and laid them in the corner, for once ignoring the usual procedure of ensuring everything was safe and dry. Aragorn was far more important than any possessions they carried.

More thoroughly this time, Legolas examined Aragorn's wound, bending close to the young man so he could properly see the injury in the semi-darkness of the cave. Once satisfied that his initial prognosis that Aragorn was not in any immediate danger had indeed been correct, Legolas placed a bandage, made from more fabric of the tunic he'd destroyed earlier around the man's midriff, trying it off tightly to keep pressure on the wound.

"There. All done," Legolas announced, patting the man's shoulder reassuringly once he'd finished. "You just need to rest now."

Wincing as Legolas helped him to replace his shirt and jacket, Aragorn asked, "Shouldn't we keep moving?"

"We're fine here."

Aragorn frowned into the darkness of the caves at this. "But you said never to remain in one place for too long while on a hunt," he pointed out, remembering the numerous times in the past when Legolas had drilled that particular important lesson into his mind.

"It will be daylight soon."

Once more, this confused Aragorn, as, after the vile pollution that spilled continuously from the Mountain of Fire in the dark land of Mordor had first clouded the skies, the Orcs, who had once feared and shunned the light of the sun, no longer had to hide in the shadows or were restricted to the dark of the night. Aragorn did not say anything though, as Legolas had already turned away to stuff their things back into their packs. Instead, the man lay back on the ground, disguising a moan of pain. He had never been so badly injured before. Hungry, tired, complaining about how his feet hurt, yes, but he'd never been stabbed before and he found that it wasn't a pleasant experience.

"Legolas…?"

Through the darkness, Legolas advised him in a soft voice, "Just go to sleep."

At the gentle instruction, Aragorn found himself feeling suddenly extremely tired. Before he realised it, his eyelids had dropped closed and he gratefully drifted away from the pain of the waking world.

Legolas watched as his young charge succumbed to sleep with an enormous swell of relief. Trying to remain calm in front of the man while panic beat hard in his chest was more difficult than he had ever imagined it would be. Normally, he took great comfort in the fact that Aragorn felt guilt when he worried about him but in this case he didn't want the boy subjected to this kind of emotion when he was already injured and upset. Hiding his anxiety though had been hard.

But now that Aragorn was sleeping and unaware of his mentor's disquiet, Legolas bowed his head, despairingly covering his face with horribly shaking hands. He'd seen so much pain in the world since the rise of Sauron that over the decades it had become almost commonplace – he'd even lived with the physical pain of grief in his own heart for nearly thirty years after the fall of his family and home – but he had forgotten, it seemed, during his long years of isolation and loneliness, how horrific it felt to watch someone beloved get hurt. He'd rather bear the pain himself than watch helpless as Aragorn suffered in front of his eyes.

He knew that Aragorn was correct; it was indeed dangerous to remain in this cave whilst Orcs continued to roam around the forest searching for their missing prey but he would not risk Aragorn further harm by hurrying away before he was certain the man could handle the pace they'd be forced to keep up in order to get away.

Still concerned about being discovered by the Orcs in such a vulnerable position, Legolas climbed quietly to his feet, hunched over so as not to bang his head on the fairly low ceiling of the cave, and peered outside.

Although he could no longer instinctively sense the time of day as he had once been able, from the faint grey light just beginning to creep across the heavily clouded sky, he deduced that dawn was indeed almost upon them as he'd reassured Aragorn moments before. With his white-handled knife held tightly in his hand, Legolas crept from the mouth of the cave and back out into the rain that still feel steadily.

He did not wander far for fear of leaving Aragorn unattended for too long whilst he remained defenceless, but nevertheless, he managed to scout the nearby area and satisfied himself that the Orcs chasing them earlier had not tracked them back to this network of caves. For now, by sheer good fortune, they were safe.

Relieved beyond measure that no confrontation was imminent, Legolas returned to Aragorn and began to peel of his own uncomfortably dripping wet clothes. In the darkness, he shivered slightly. It was still too dangerous to start a fire despite the chill. Although confident that the Orcs were no longer on their trail, Legolas was not going to tempt fate by foolishly risking attracting them back. He could handle the discomfort.

Once he'd removed his sopping jacket and shirt, Legolas pulled out the two blankets they always carried and laid one over Aragorn before wrapping the other tightly around himself. It provided at least a little warmth to his chilled body.

Legolas sat in silence, thinking warm thoughts in an attempt to ward off the biting cold. Soon though, his mind drifted instead back to Aragorn and his eyes moved toward the man, dimly lit now by the light of day. No, right then he did not seem a twenty-one year old man in Legolas' eyes, but rather a young boy, vulnerable, in need of care and protection, an echo of that nervous child Legolas had rescued from the evil clutches of the Orcs all those years ago. Things had been remarkably simple in those first couple of years with the boy at his side. All Aragorn had required in the beginning was the most basic care and was satisfied with simply walking up and down the safe and familiar Old Forest Road that Legolas had found so much peace in walking. But the world as it now was had a tendency to change people - as Legolas knew all too well. After his encounter with those vicious cannibals and Orcs as a child, Aragorn had wanted to change, to become more independent, to defend himself. And what right did Legolas have to deter him from that course?

Legolas could not see into the future as the Wise amongst his race once could have. Every single day he lived with the uncertainty of what the next day might bring. At any moment, the man could be left all by himself without his protector. As he watched the young man sleeping to recover his wounds as best he could before moving on, Legolas wondered if this was how Arathorn, the boy's ill-fated father, had felt raising his son all on his own – hopelessly inadequate. If so, Legolas did not envy the position of the father.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice startled the Elf from his thoughts and when he came back to the present, he was startled to find the cave now saturated in the grey light of day. He had been lost in reverie for longer than he intended.

"How do you feel?" Legolas asked, shifting up to sit on his knees, leaning forwards so he could see the man.

"Alright, I suppose." Aragorn pulled himself into a sitting position with a wince of pain and asked, "How long did I sleep?"

"Only a couple of hours." Legolas leaned over, holding out the canteen and offering, "Water?"

"Thank you."

"I wish I could provide you with something for the pain," Legolas said as the man greedily gulped down the water.

Once he'd had his fill, Aragorn shook his head. "It's not that bad."

"You know that I would if I could."

"I know," the young man smiled sincerely. In the dim light coming from the mouth of the cave, Aragorn could see the despair shining in deep blue eyes, even as Legolas attempted to conceal it from him. He hated seeing his guardian so worried. "Legolas," he said quietly and reached forward to lay his cold hand over Legolas', "I'm alright."

Legolas looked up, offering Aragorn a small, slightly too shaky smile. Damn that boy for knowing him so very well.

Clearing his throat, Legolas patted Aragorn's hand and said, "I thought we could stay here for another couple of hours, get some rest then move on this afternoon. We'll have at least some protection in the daylight to get a fair distance from this place just in case there are any stray Orcs loitering around."

Rather liking the return to certainty and command in the Elf's voice, Aragorn nevertheless decided it was only right to offer an argument. It was, after all, almost expected of him by now and he didn't want to disappoint his guardian.

"I am feeling fine, Legolas, we can leave now."

"No doubt we could but we're not going to," Legolas told him with unshakeable sternness, glaring up at the young man. "Rest while you can."

Even though he rolled his eyes in faked annoyance, Aragorn laid back gratefully. "If that's what you want."

After Aragorn had closed his eyes, weary in spite of his protests, Legolas couldn't help but smile. He and Aragorn may not have been linked by blood but in other ways they were remarkably similar: stubborn and proud, one always seeking to protect the other and both finding these qualities exceptionally infuriating. All these traits Legolas had inherited from his own father and it seemed that he had now passed them unwittingly onto the young man in his care. Ironic, that he had left such an impression on the human child when he had initially been so reluctant to take on the responsibility of raising another being. If only he could have been certain that it was a good thing that he was influencing the human so; he did not particularly like those qualities – or any qualities – in himself anymore so the thought of passing them on to another being was not necessarily a comfort to the Elf.

To Be Continued…