Alright, since I see it doesn't matter if it's four chapters per week or two every few days... I'll be posting one chapter every Saturday and Wednesday. And if you guys won't review, even a little, I might as well freeze this story...

By the way... It's sort of my first try at a battle scene like this... Tell me how I did? Or don't... wouldn't surprise me anymore...

Hitoku: Fine what ever... And I don't say everything on purpose. Some things I'll explain later one... If we get to that anyway

Chapter 13 has arrived :P

And so morning came… Aragorn woke up, taking a sharp breath. He glanced around himself before standing up and taking another deep breath.

In all honesty, he would have liked to sleep a bit longer, but he knew better. With the sun almost up, the dual that would determine his and his friends' fate would begin.

He stretched his arms and looked about himself for the others. Strider found Faramir and Eomer lying in their beds, one shivering with cold while the other mumbled and tossed.

He sighed and looked for the elder one, but found he wasn't in the tent. At that, Hagen entered, carrying a bucket of hot water and a basket.

"Oh, I see you are awake. Still have one hour," the Chief put down the bucket and basket and smiled at the King.

"No, that's alright. I want to be fully ready, not just woken up when I fight," he smiled back.

"Well, I brought you something to eat," he reached into the basket and pulled out some bread and a bottle of water.

"There is enough for all three, but I don't think they will be eating…" he looked grimly at the other two.

"I wouldn't worry about that," the former Ranger smiled. "When they are both well, I'm sure they will be hungry. At least Eomer will."

Hagen chuckled and handed the meal to Aragorn. "I know your 'brother' is running out of time and I would gladly give him the antidote… But Dona has taken it for, 'safe keeping'."

"I see… but can he be trusted? Will he give us the antidote?"

"He will. I can not explain how or why, but he has always kept his word."

And soon, an hour passed and the sun's first rays of light peeked through the tent's fabric. With a deep breath, Aragorn threw off his shirt, took Andúril and walked out of the tent. He was greeted by a bone chilling wind and deep snow, but didn't show any signs of pain or discomfort. He didn't have that luxury, not now. He could already see a large crowd of people.

And as the King walked to the center, Hagen tended to his friends, making sure they would survive long enough for him to win.

As he moved closer to the glacier, people moved out of his way, as if he had the plague. By the time he arrived, Dona was already there, sitting straight with his legs crossed and eyes closed.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," Strider said in a greeting.

"Of course not. I did say at first light," the Sango man stood up, opening his eyes.

"I'm surprised you showed," he smirked.

"Well I wasn't about to leave my friends. Unlike you, I care for them."

"Brave words for someone who is about to be dead," he sneered and took out his sword.

"Likewise," the King stated calmly and brought out his weapon.

The crowed moved away, surrounding the two in a large circle, giving them enough space.

For a minute or two, they only walked in a circle, analyzing each other and waiting for the other to make the first move.

But Aragorn knew what Dona was trying to do. "He knows I can't stand this cold as long as him… Dragging out the batter will make matters worse…" he noted.

"Well then," he managed a smirk. "Let's not keep him waiting!" and with that he dashed forward, sword outstretched in front of him.

Dona's eyes glowed with glee as he stepped forward, holding the sword with both hands back and ready to deliver the swing. A second later, metal clashed with metal as sparks flew and teeth gritted.

Both men were knocked back a bit by the impact, but Strider regained his footing faster and swung Andúril aiming for the head. The tribe member was cut slightly on the cheek, but ducked back and slid with his knees on the snow, getting closer to his attacker.

Aragorn wanted to side step the swing to his leg, but the deep snow didn't allow him. And soon he found himself with his back in the snow with Dona getting on his feet. As the red liquid stained the white snow, Strider gritted his teeth.

As he saw the blade atop of him, the King rolled to the side just enough to evade the sword, before hitting Dona in the ribs with the sword's hilt.

With a groan of pain, the mountain liver jumped back and put a hand on his chest. It might not have been a fetal blow, but it breached his skin, making him bleed. And with his attention on the wound the down world dweller stood back up, releasing a deep breath.

Anger and fire burned in their eyes as they stared down each other once more. Then, when Aragorn moved to attack, Dona smirked. Before Strider had a chance to do anything, Dona kicked the soft snow straight into his eyes. With a hiss, the King stopped and wanted to get rid of the snow, but the Sango male took his opportunity.

With a dash and a jump he raised his sword atop of his head, preparing to deliver a blow to the head. And just as he was about to swing down, Elessar raised his leg and kicked Dona straight in the chest.

The Sango male collapsed on the ground, taking deep, shaky breaths, coughing and choking on the air. He hadn't expected the former Ranger to have such high senses. A moment later, Andúril was at his neck, its wielder's eyes closed until he reached and rubbed them, getting the snow out. Both men were taking deep breaths, but only one stood.

"Well…? What are waiting for…? Do it!" Dona yelled, rage in his eyes as he gritted his teeth.

Aragorn stood still, looking down at his opponent, swallowing before inhaling the cold air. With a sniff, he moved Andúril away from the man's neck and relaxed his figure.

Everyone looked at him, eyes wide open. Everyone except the man who's life he spared. There was only more hatred, if that was possible, as he frowned in anger.

"What? Too weak to finish me off?! You are nothing but a-" but he didn't get to finish, as a hard punch to the face, broke his nose and made his fall limply to the ground.

With a questioning shake of his head, Strider said: "Better?"

The crowd started cheering as healers arrived; checking Dona over, while Aragorn sneaked back to the tent where Hagen, Faramir and Eomer were. When he arrived, the Chief was already waiting to congratulate him.

"I saw it all," he said and brought him his garments and a warm blanket.

The King's adrenalin has finally worn off and he was freezing. How Eomer managed to do what he did, was beyond him.

"H-How are t-they?" he managed to ask while drinking the hot tea Hagen made.

"The other King is recovering nicely. As long as he keeps warm dressed for another day or two, he will be fine. But the Steward…" and as an answer, Faramir started coughing fiercely, shaking and going from whispered mumbling to yelling.

The two leaders moved to restrain him, but it did little good as they both knew what it meant.

"We're losing him!" Strider yelled. He didn't have enough time to grind Athelas. He needed the antidote.

"He won't make it…" Hagen said in horror as he watched the Ranger kick and twist on the bed.

"No! Faramir! Listen to me! You need to fight it a bit longer! You hear me? Fight it!" the King tried, but knew there was no time left. Unless he could get his hands on the antidote, Faramir was going to die.

"First Boromir, now Faramir… both will die because I was too late…" he hung his head, trying to keep the tears from falling.

And then, when all hope seemed lost, Han ran into the tent, calling: "I got *pant* the anti *pant* dote! Take *pant* it!"

Hagen quickly took the herb. It was a pure white flower, much like the one Eomer had to retrieve from the mountain peak.

"Help us hold him!" the Chief called, but he saw someone else garb the Ranger's legs.

"What-" they wanted to ask but he quickly yelled back: "Just do it!"

With a quick nod, Elessar took ahold of the Steward's shoulders as Hagen tore off a petal and put into the poisoned male's mouth.

"Swallow this!" he ordered and forcefully closed his mouth. When Faramir started choking, they feared the worst, but he swallowed the flower.

Han had filled a bowl with fresh water and put it to the Ranger's mouth. He gladly let the liquid flow down his throat.

When everything was taken care of, Faramir opened his eyes, already better than before.

Well that was close... Anyway, and I'm begging here, review!