"You know, Estel, Lord Elrond will be terribly upset if we do not return to Rivendell by the end of this fortnight." Legolas voiced, laying out his blanket atop the harsh terrain.

      Aragorn merely shook his head, "Only if we were returning empty handed. But we have information of Orcs roaming the passes east of Bree. That alone is well worth our trip."

      The two companions had been traveling together for some weeks now. Legolas had traveled west to Rivendell and there, Elrond had asked the two friends if they would mind traveling to some of the outlying human settlements. Aragorn had readily agreed and, since his friend was willing, Legolas signed on as well. Their job had been to search out any forboding news, though Elrond was lax on details of what they should find. All in all, the trip had been rather uneventful. Legolas had accidently destroyed one of "The Prancing Pony's" best room, which had been rather disasterous afterwards. The two had come across an Orc scout, out in broad daylight. Other than that, nothing else of notable importance had occurred. Now, the two friends were spending the evening camped at the Watchtower of Amon Sul.

      "Besides, we should make it back soon, weather permitting." the man replied, looking up at the sky.

      "Those clouds are ready to burst, Estel. It is good that we made it here when we did." Legolas lay down upon his blanket, but something suddenly felt very wrong to the Elf.

      Quickly, Legolas sat up, his senses alert and tuned in to everything about him. An evil presence set itself up in the prince's heart, some dark forboding sense of danger was about the air. Turning, Legolas leaned on the edge of the small cliff which he and the Ranger had made their camp. Aragorn knelt by his side, but could see nothing in the starless and moonless night. The Elf however, was glowing slightly and Aragorn touched his friend's shoulder.

      "Legolas." he got the Elf's attention and nodded his head. "You are glowing and there is no moon nor stars out tonight."

      The prince blinked, but returned his attention back on the ground down below. "Evil draws near. I suppose something within myself is reacting to it's presence."

      "But what is it? Man cenich?"

      Legolas' eyes narrowed, "Whatever it is blends perfectly with the shadows. But I can detect the faint click of a horse's hooves upon the stone below. Whatever is traveling this way, has crudely shooed the poor animal, for it is the sound of nails which reaches my ears above the horses' own hoof."

      The Dunadan thought on this for a moment, but his puzzled mind was interrupted when a sharp scream pierced the night air about him. Aragorn looked into the wide blue eyes of his friend, both realizing the danger they now faced.

      "Nazgul..." The man whispered.

      Legolas nodded, "It searches for something. Can you not feel the tendrils of malice it sends out? Even now if knows we are near." The Elf leapt to his feet. "Come Strider, we must leave this place at once."

      Wasting no time, Aragorn helped pack their meager supplies and they headed down the cliff face which the duo had used to scale the hill. However, the two stopped in their tracks when they realized that not only one, but three Nazgul were aware of their presence. The two new Ringwraiths blocked the friend's exit.

      Legolas backtracked, "This way, Estel." he whispered.

      Both man and Elf retreated back the way they had come, but they found that they were quickly surrounded. Aragorn stood with Legolas' back to him. He faced the one, his friend faced the two.

      "Have any idea how to kill a Nazgul?" The man asked.

      Legolas shook his head, "Nay. Though we should think of a way quickly."

      As soon as the Elf had said these words however, all three Nazgul crested the hill and advanced upon the two friends. Aragorn held his sword at the ready, not knowing what to expect. Legolas' bow was in his hand, an arrow fit to the string.

      "Ready?" Aragorn whispered.

      "As I shall ever be." the Elf replied before utter chaos ensued.

      Those next moments were a blur as the Nazgul attacked with an efficiency that neither of the friends had exprected. Legolas' arrow sung in the night air, finding it's mark squarely in the chest of one of the Black Riders. However, it only hampered the Ringwraith' movements and, as it fell behind, it's partner took it's place. Aragorn was having a hard time as well, matching stroke for stroke of his opponent's blade.

      "They search still!" Legolas called above the din of battle.

      The Elf could feel dark ripples in the air about him, as if the creature's tried to grasp at something that was not there. He did not know what it was they wanted, but surely, even if Aragorn and himself did hold their sought after treasure, they would never turn it over to them. Legolas' bow had become useless and he pulled his twin knives from their sheaths.

      "Strider!" the prince called, his eyes lighting on the smoldering embers of their hurriedly put out camp fire. "Get your flint from your bag. Perhaps fire would work better than steal or arrows!"

      The Ranger nodded, backing away from the advancing Nazgul before him. Legolas turned slightly to compensate for the third being. He now faced them alone as Aragorn stood behind him, quickly going through their supplies. The Elf parried an attack, bringing his dagger up on his other side to stave off the Nazgul's blade. He spun, ducking and striking where he could, his efforts only to keep the creatures from his friend. Aragorn meanwhile, had located the flint and a spare tunic within the pack. Quickly ripping the fabric, he tied it to a stick still smoldering in the embers of their fire. But before the human could light his makeshift torch, a cry pierced the night. The cry however, did not belong to any Nazgul.

      Aragorn turned hurriedly as Legolas dropped to one knee, his right hand clutching his chest tightly.

      "Legolas!"

      The Elf shook his head, fending off another blow before the Nazgul could overcome him. "I am fine, Strider. Hurry with that fire!"

      Turning back to the task at hand, worry attacking the man's thoughts, Aragorn quickly struck the cloth ablaze and pressed the torch toward the nearest Nazgul. Luckily, the man had done this just in time. As this Nazgul stopped it's advance on Legolas, Aragorn swung the fire toward one of them at their backs. Another high pitched scream rent the night air and, as quickly as they had come, the Nazgul began to turn away, leaving the area.

      Aragorn dropped the torch, rushing to Legolas' side and helping his friend to lean against the rock wall behind them.

      The Elf hissed as Aragorn moved his hand away from the wound. "They did not find what they were looking for." Legolas said, answering the question that was on both of their minds.

      "Shhh... sit still." The Ranger said, inspecting the wound.

      To the man's dismay, it was deeper than he would have liked to admit. The Nazgul's blade had narrowly missed the Elf's lungs and heart, but Aragorn knew that the damage would not stop there.

      "We have to get you back to Imladris, and fast."

      Legolas nodded, "Morgul blades are not the easiest of injuries to repair, I take it." he said with a smile.

      The man shook his head, "This is no laughing matter, Legolas. I can not even heal such wounds like this completely. If I could, there would be no real danger." he began helping the Elf to his feet. "You must walk as far as you can. It will take us at least four days."

      But the Elf let his optimistic comments burst through his pain glazed eyes. "Four days of hard travel and a gaping chest wound." he smiled slightly as Aragorn shouldered their packs and he gripped the Elf's waist with his right arm, "Sounds wonderful."

      The Ranger shook his head, "What am I going to do with you?"

      "Me?" Legolas looked at him quizzically as they descended the hill as quickly as the Elf could. "If you had not taken so long with that torch, I might have just left all the Nazgul to you instead." he smiled. However, the frown on his friend's face was anything but mirthful. "Estel?"

      Aragorn shook his head, "I am sorry. This is all my fault."

      But Legolas merely laughed, though he closed his eyes in pain as he did so, "Nothing is your fault, Strider. I was simply a little careless."

      Legolas had become rather sluggish after their first two days of travel. Aragorn noticed it, and just in time too, for the Elf then began to slip in and out of consciousness. It was now the third day of their journey, and Aragorn had been forced to carry the prince in his arms. It was not such a hard task, Elves were incredibly light, but the man could see his friend was beginning to slip away. Lord Elrond had told the man long ago, that most became Wraiths like the Nazgul themselves when pierced with a Morgul blade, but that was not so of the Elves. Elves simply died.

      Laying his companion on the ground, Aragorn quickly started a small fire, boiling water above it's flames. He gathered the weed known as kingsfoil, athelas, and crushed the herbs, mixing it with the hot liquid. The smell of the plant wafted through the trees, giving a calming effect to the entire glen. Legolas' eyes came into slight focus as the sweet aroma of the athelas filled his burning lungs.

      "Estel." he whispered, trying to blink away the haze in his eyes.

      The Dunadan knelt next to his friend, "I am here, Legolas. I am here."

      Legolas' eyes fixed on Strider's silver ones. "It is dark. All is falling into shadow, Aragorn."

      Concern crossed Aragorn's features and he took the Elf's hand in his own. "Stay with me, mellon nin." but as the late afternoon turned to evening, the man took in a troubling sight.

      Legolas was no longer glowing with the faint luminescence of his kind.

      Aragorn realized that his friend's life was diminishing right before his very eyes. The Elf had precious little time left. The man quickly picked up his friend, hoisting their packs onto his back and stomping on the embers of their fire to put it out.

      "Estel?" the prince questioned.

      "Shhh... be still, Legolas. We must reach Imladris by tomorrow." The Ranger whispered, hurrying through the forests with all speed.

      By the fourth day, Aragorn realized that they had indeed passed into the boundaries of Rivendell. He silently hoped that one of his brothers would happen by.

      His thoughts however were broken as Legolas gasped in his friend's arms. The Dunadan set the Elf upon the ground, leaning him against his chest.

      "Legolas?"

      The prince's head slumped back against the man's shoulders. "Estel. I... I can not breathe..." his eyes were wide with panic as he attempted to draw air into his starving lungs.

      Aragorn pulled Legolas close, one hand resting on the prince's chest. "Breathe, Legolas. Breathe like me, come on. You can not falter now, mellon nin."

      After a few moments, the Elf was able to draw in breath again, his blue tinted lips drawn into a thin line. Legolas leaned against the man, his hand reaching up and touching the side of Aragorn's face.

      "We must hurry..." he whispered, before falling into unconsciousness once again.

      Aragorn sensed the urgency and a need to quicken his pace. Picking the prince up again, he hurried toward Rivendell. Suddenly however, two Elves on horseback appeared out of nowhere.

      "Estel?!" Elladan called, dismounting and helping his younger brother with the prince's limp body.

      Elrohir rushed toward them, "What has happened?"

      "Legolas and I were caught at Amon Sul by Nazgul, three of them. They appeared to be searching for something, or so Legolas told me. He was injured by a Morgul blade. We have to get him to ada!"

      Both Elves nodded. Elladan placed Legolas' body before him, one hand about his waist. Elrohir and Aragorn shared a mount as well and the four rushed to Rivendell.

      Days passed and, in time, Legolas awoke. He blinked a couple of times, noticing that Aragorn dozed lightly in a chair next to the Elf's bed. But then the prince's gaze was directed toward the door

      "Lord Elrond." the younger Elf smiled.

      The Elf Lord entered, careful not to wake the sleeping Ranger. "I see you are on the mend, young Legolas. That was quite a wound you sustained."

      He nodded, but his eyes were troubled. "The Nazgul were searching for something. I... I did not understand. And then, before, we ran into Orcs. They were out in the daylight. We killed a scout."

      Elrond laid a hand on the prince's forehead. "Shh... Rest Legolas. You can tell me all about it when you are more able. Estel has already told me about both the Nazgul and the Orcs."

      Legolas nodded and lay back further into the blankets. The Elf Lord left him, but the prince could still feel a deep ache in his chest. Few survived wounds from Morgul weapons and he was lucky to have lived through the ordeal. Before drifting off to sleep however, Legolas noticed that the Ranger was waking.

      Aragorn's eyes opened and he smiled, noticing that Legolas' gaze was upon him. "Legolas." he sighed in relief.

      The prince smiled, "Good morning, Estel."