Hello, hello! I'M BACK!

Well, I suppose most of you are glad to see me! Most… Anyway, I won't bore you by rambling on… because I know most of you were ready to murder me by the end of my last story and I'm sure you want to know what happens. And it has been a while since then. So… here we go!

~~~The Tales Untold~~~

-Of Brothers and Blood-

By: Jazi

Rating: PG-13, for epic battle scenes… hee, hee ^-^

Disclaimer: Okay, I'm not Tolkien and I'm not pretending to be. I don't own any recognizable characters and I'm making no money off of this. However all other characters… my ORIGINAL characters… I do own. Take then and I will never forgive you. If you want to use them… ask nicely.

Also… I do own all mistakes in this story, grammatical, spell-atical… tolkien-atical… Heh, heh, I've always wanted to say that.

Spoilers: Uh… can't think of any.

Additional Notes:

Okay, in this story there is a lot of Mirkwood Military. Hee, hee. I've made it all up, ranking, and all that stuff. But just to clarify some perhaps confusing army rankings… here's a small table to clear it up.

Royal Commander

Royal Guard Captain^ ^Border Guard Captain

Royal Guard Lieutenant^ ^Border Guard Lieutenant

And all the little soldiers under them! And the whole Fifth Rank thing later on… means that a Fifth Rank Lieutenant doesn't have to answer JUST to the Royal or Border Captain… he answers to both. So he doesn't really have a group to hang out with. Fifth Ranks are a bunch of high-raking loners, if you want to think of it that way.

Okay, I've got the military stuff out of the way… NOW ONTO THE STORY!

Chapter One: On the Outskirts

"He will die…"

That phrase was what kept the adrenaline running through his veins and the fear clutching his soul. That single sentence spelled a doom so great he didn't want to think about it. But he did, and the thought possessed him. He wouldn't allow it to happen—he would defy fate somehow. But who was to say this fate, anyhow? A red haired elf that claimed to be a human who died long ago? No, that was impossible. But from the place they had just come, anything was possible. That valley had shaken him and he had yet to recover. He gritted his teeth. These thoughts weren't helping. They haunted his dreams already—must they plague his waking hours? No, he had no time for this.

Not if he didn't want to trip over another rock hidden underneath the deceivingly smooth snow.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, had done that once already and didn't want to repeat the experience. He had come back up with a mouthful of snow and for the next hour Legolas, Crown Prince of Mirkwood, couldn't stop snickering whenever he looking in Aragorn's direction. He would have sought retribution by means of a snowball fight if they hadn't been in such a hurry.

Mirkwood was only two days away—if they were swift. And with an elf attempting a takeover of Mirkwood, they had to get back as soon as possible. Legolas had taken the time to explain what Rîn had told him already. Aragorn had been intrigued about Amélith's life and listened with interest. However he hadn't returned the favor. He wouldn't tell Legolas about Rîn's last prophecy.

By the end of the fight for Mirkwood, Legolas would be dead.

He didn't want it to be true—he wouldn't let it be true. They had been through too much. There was no way he would allow Legolas to die. He was immortal—he wasn't meant for death to take. He would not see the elf pass on before he did. It wasn't meant to be. But the seer seemed to think differently. He still remembered the gleam in Rîn's golden eyes, as if the elf knew exactly what he was talking about. Ha! That elf was no more than a fake—a charlatan pretending to know all. Malbeth, indeed.

"It snows again," Legolas said, startling Aragorn out of his thoughts so much that the ranger jumped in surprise.

"Y-yes, I suppose it is," Aragorn murmured.

Legolas peered around him carefully, elven eyes scanning the landscape. "There seems to be no sign of Niphred anywhere. I expect that the rockslide didn't kill him—he's far too nimble to be caught by mere rocks and pebbles. He's most likely somewhere near. We should proceed with caution." He glanced at Aragorn, whose eyes were fixed on the ground. "Are you all right, my friend? You've been quiet since we left the valley." He wore a look of concern. "Are you still in pain?"

"No. That faded a while ago. I'm just a little uneasy. Niphred seems like a person I should not want to meet up with," Aragorn lied quickly.

"Agreed. But night falls swiftly. We should find a place to stay." Legolas risked another concerned look at Aragorn. He knew the ranger wouldn't admit to not being fully healed yet. "I see a clump of trees. We can sleep there."

"Fine," Aragorn sighed, relenting. He smiled at Legolas and rolled his eyes. "The mothering skill of the elves wins out again."

"Had you any doubt?" Legolas chuckled. "So you are positive you are healed… truthfully?"

Aragorn rubbed his shoulder, testing to see if he felt any pain. "Yes. For once I don't lie."

"Then…" Legolas paused and looked at the spot on the horizon. "I'll race you to those trees!" The elf took off, nearly flying across the snow.

"Unfair!" Aragorn cried indignantly and followed as fast as he could go hindered by the snow.

The man made it to small gathering of trees much later than Legolas. The prince sat in a tree already, continually snickering as Aragorn stumbled through the snow. "You damn elves don't have to deal with the snow," Aragorn growled. "Why is it men have all the bad sides to everything?"

Legolas shrugged. "No idea."

The next morning Aragorn groaned and stirred in surprise. Ice covered his cloak. A thick layer of ice. In fact, a layer of ice covered everything. What…? The ranger blinked sleepily and shook the icicles off of his clothing. It was cold…

A loud shriek startled him out of his half-asleep state. Eyes widening in horror as he realized the terrified voice was Legolas' he stumbled to his feet and stared up at the trees overhead. "He will die…" Swallowing the fear that rose up in him, he searched the branches. "LEGOLAS?

"Nooo!" Legolas' terrified voice gave an unearthly scream and then the elf plummeted from the trees, face-first into the ice-covered snow.

"Legolas, are you all right? How are you hurt? What happened? Did Niphred get you? Are you alive? Speak, Legolas!" Aragorn grabbed Legolas and gently turned him over, concern nearly making him hysterical.

The elf blinked twice, then shook his head, trying to dislodge the snow that had gotten in his hair. "I—I," he stuttered. "I just fell out of a tree."

"Yes, are you hurt? Is Niphred here? Did you hit your head?"

Legolas held up a hand. "Calm yourself before you pass out, Aragorn." Aragorn didn't quiet. If anything he looked more alarmed.

"You screamed."

Legolas made a face. "I woke up. I tried to stand up. I slipped. I was startled. And then I fell out of a tree. I am a wood-elf. And I fell out of a tree. I deserve exile."

Aragorn forced himself to absorb this information. "No assassins?"

"No."

"No broken bones?"

Legolas grunted irritably and stood up. "Just my pride was injured." Aragorn leaned back, relieved. Nothing had happened. Legolas eyed him oddly. "Why did you go half-mad when I fell? Did I startle you out of sleep or something of the sort?"

"N-no." Aragorn swallowed. "Legolas. You just screamed… like the demon we met in Angmar. If you combined that scream with a few spider calls… that's just what you sounded like." He shook his head, a slow smile creeping over his face. He couldn't believe the sound he had heard.

Legolas frowned. "I was startled when I slipped. And I did not sound like a demon."

Aragorn's face twitched. "No. You didn't sound like a demon. It was more like a full fledged balrog." Giving into his mirth, he bent over, laughing uncontrollably. "I never knew an elf could utter such a cry!"

Legolas forced himself to keep a straight face. "Think what you want to. I do not sound like a balrog."

Aragorn inhaled deeply, calming himself. "No, fine you didn't sound like a balrog." He stood up. "It was more like a frightened maiden." With that, he fell over again, chortling. Legolas, hands on his hips resentfully, watched the ranger in annoyance. Finally, Aragorn got a hold of himself and got back on his feet, dusting the snow from his clothes.

"Done yet?" Legolas muttered.

"Yes." Aragorn grinned. He had had his fun.

Legolas eyed his surroundings. "This ice is quite unusual. The winter has been mild—up until now. I guess the storms figured they had been merciful but couldn't resist the temptation of hindering us. This ice has to be an inch thick. However since elves are not affected by such weather and humans are, it seems I can laugh at you while the ice has its revenge." Legolas smiled with grim satisfaction, then started walking towards where his pack had fallen.

He had taken half a step before he promptly slipped and fell hard onto his back. Aragorn blinked, then burst out laughing. "'Elves are not affected?' Whatever did you mean? This isn't snow, this is ice! Elves can slip, too."

Aragorn had seen that lightly stepping on the ice would get him nowhere. So, after a moment of thought, he stomped instead. His boots cracked the ice, creating deep holes in the ice. He cautiously took a step. The broken ice that surrounded his foot could do nothing—he had broken through to the snow underneath. He beamed. He could walk just fine as long as he made an extra effort to break the ice with each stride.

Legolas, though, had no such luck. Elves couldn't walk through snow, much less ice. They walked on top of it. And in this case, that was not so much a gift as a curse. Legolas was in trouble. The prince pushed himself back to his feet and tried to walk a second time.

The result was the same—he ended up on his back, staring up into Aragorn's half concerned, half amused face.

"Don't even ask if I'm all right," Legolas hissed angrily. He was making a fool of himself. Twice had he let this ice defeat him in a mere matter of minutes. Elves were not supposed to fall down because of a mere bout of freezing winter.

Aragorn frowned, deep in thought. "Well, I suppose you could walk in my footsteps. That way you wouldn't fall over." He resisted the temptation to smirk. For once it was a good thing he was not an elf. One look at Legolas' indignant face was worth all the times the elf had teased him about the human race's weaknesses.

"I've got snow in my clothes now," Legolas complained.

"Aw, the elf is so cranky because the human can walk on the ice and the elf can't," Aragorn teased him unmercifully. Legolas scowled.

"Come, I'll carry the packs, that'll give me extra weight and make it easier to break through the ice." With a sigh, Legolas grudgingly handed the two packs to Aragorn. The ranger grinned and started walking easily through the ice, out of the clump of trees and back out onto the plain towards Mirkwood. With a hesitant walk Legolas followed in Aragorn's footsteps… but even then he would sometimes lose his balance and fall. Feeling grumpier than he would have thought possible, he made his way through the ice.

The pace was incredibly slow. Legolas gritted his teeth in impatience and tried to keep his mind on balancing. Aragorn glanced over his shoulder and hid a smile when he saw Legolas tentatively walking. This was certainly a nice change. He wasn't the one struggling against the weather. Although part of him felt sorry for Legolas, the mischievous side of his personality shown out.

Meanwhile, the prince had fallen again, finding himself laying on his back, staring at where they had come from. "Great," he muttered furiously. "I never thought ice could defeat me more soundly than a pack of orcs."

But as he looked backwards, a flicker of darkness upon the white snow caught his eye. "Hm…" He rolled over and stood up, straining to see what was moving along the horizon. It seemed to be getting bigger…

"Oh, Valar," he whispered in horror. He turned and raced towards Aragorn, shouting for him to start walking faster.

"What is it?" Aragorn looked back to see Legolas trying to run. The elf slowly caught up to him.

"H-h-horse," Legolas gasped. "Following us."

"So? The rider might be friendly." Aragorn tried to makes some sense of why Legolas was afraid of a horse.

"Rider—on—horse—is—Niphred!"

Aragorn swore loudly and looked back. Sure enough the speck on the horizon was coming closer and closer. If Legolas and his keen eyes said that was a horse with Niphred on it, he was prepared to believe it.

"The horse is heavy, it seems to be having little trouble with the ice," Legolas said quietly. "You should go."

"Go?"

"Yes, leave." Legolas kept his eyes on Niphred. "You will go faster without worrying about me."

"He's after you!"

"Yes, so he won't follow you," Legolas murmured. "You can run faster in this stuff. I cannot outrun a horse. I will hold fight him. Go on to Mirkwood."

Aragorn grabbed Legolas' arm. "No! I'm not leaving you here! If I do, think of what your father would say! He would say that he was right never to trust me! I'm taking you with me, even if I have to drag you behind me." He started to run, hindered slightly by the ice. But he hadn't let go of Legolas' arm and the elf half-floundered in his attempt to keep up.

The pair ran through the ice. Legolas tried his hardest to stay on his feet and not hold back Aragorn. He wouldn't slow down his friend if he could help it. But he could also see Niphred gaining. He got Aragorn to let go of his arm. "I won't let you stay behind," Aragorn said firmly. "You're coming, too."

Legolas nodded. There was no point in arguing. Mirkwood was getting closer but they had no hope of getting there before Niphred caught up. Where had that assassin got a horse, anyway?

He was so caught up in his thoughts he forgot he was running on broken ice. He tripped and stumbled forward. He tried to break the fall with his hands, but they slipped out from under him.

A sharp piece of ice caught him in the side and he gasped. He tried hard to get back up, but pain shot through him. He fell down again, the dagger sharp ice ripping and digging deeper into him.

The sound of Legolas' struggle and the elf's absence made Aragorn look back. His eyes widened when he saw Legolas on the ground and unable to get back on his feet. He was at Legolas' side in a moment. "Come on," he murmured, gently trying to lift Legolas. The elf hissed in pain, but stumbled back onto his feet.

Blood stained the snow where the prince had been. "You're hurt," Aragorn said, deeply concerned.

"He's gaining, we've got to keep going." Legolas yanked himself away from Aragorn and staggered forward. "We can't afford to stop now."

But with Legolas barely able to keep his feet and Aragorn too stubborn to leave him, Niphred would catch up in a matter of minutes.

Well, first and foremost I would like to say how sorry I am that it took this long to get this story up. But this one is LONGER than the first two. Much longer. And RL kept getting in the way. Between school, prom committee and the fact I know am playing Chava in our school's production of Fiddle On The Roof, things have gotten very hectic. But… anyway…

A few answers to the questions I KNOW you guys will be asking:

YES, this is the final installment of the trilogy dealing with Amélith and his lackeys. But the final story dealing with Legolas' unhappy past… no, you shall have to wait for him to finally deal with what has gone on there.

Does Legolas die? Does Daemîr die? Har, har, I'm not telling! Did you seriously think I would say?

Oh, and a quick little fact: The whole situation with the ice is actually entirely based on my own experience. I was in Legolas' position when my house froze over and I had to go feed my pets… on the other side of the field. So I had this walk in which my dad—who could break through the ice—laughed his head off at me, cause I kept falling over. And my friend's side was slashed open when she fell and the ice cut her. Ugh, that was some ugly scar afterwards.

Okay… now I shall go post this and eagerly await the results. See ya'll later!