Well, I'm back. I decided to write another Darn Fanfic writers; my dad gave me an idea. Hopefully it's as good as the first. So, please read, relax and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings, I just like to play with the characters and cause them some discomfort.

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I'm Fine

It was mid-morning and the heir of Isildur was still abed. He was not sleeping though, nor was he ill: he was frightened. Beside the heir of Isildur's bed stood his best friend, an elven prince who currently was rather annoyed at the man. The elf stood there, arms crossed, giving a look of both determination and irritation as he prepared to try yet again to get the man out of bed.

'Aragorn,' Legolas said, his voice tinted slightly by frustration. 'We must be going if we are to go hunting today.'

'No,' Aragorn shook his head defiantly. He knew Legolas was upset, but he didn't care; Legolas simply did not understand. He hadn't before and wouldn't now. Last time he'd just patched him up the best he could and carried him back to Rivendell where Elrond could care for him. Aragorn knew better, however, than to tell Elrond of them. Rather he had told the elven lord that he must have been delirious and that there was nothing to be concerned about.

'Why not,' the elven archer asked for the twelfth time that morning.

'Them,' Aragorn answered ominously in a near whisper for the twelfth time that morning, moving a little farther under the blankets on his bed.

'There are no them Aragorn,' Legolas exclaimed, throwing his arms up in disgust, finally fed-up with his friend's cryptic answer. 'You are a grown man Aragorn; a future king; a ranger. You can do battle with some of middle-earth's most vile creatures; surely you are not afraid of these fanfic writers you always talk about.'

'Shh,' Aragorn hushed Legolas as he crept a little beneath the blankets. 'Don't talk about them. They're more dangerous than you can imagine.'

'A grown man Aragorn,' Legolas stated flatly, crossing his arms again.

'Doesn't matter,' Aragorn explained. 'I can be doing just fine, battling an orc or two, no injury not even a scratch and then before I know it, I've got an orc blade in my chest, a poisoned one I might add. After that, it's all downhill. Within a matter of minutes adrenaline is the only thing keeping me standing and able to tolerate the pain without passing out. I've got more cuts and bruises than I can count and yet another knife wound in my leg. Then after all of the orcs have been dispatched, you come over to find me barely able to stand. Sometimes you're in the same condition, sometimes not, it all depends on which of us the writers fancy. You ask me how I'm doing and for some reason I say 'fine.' I really don't want to say it, but they make me. Then you patch me up as best as you can and take me home to be fully healed by Elrond.'

'It does not always happen that way,' Legolas tried to sound positive, hoping it would help the ranger.

'True,' the ranger admitted. 'Sometimes the orcs capture us and take us off to Mordor where you wind up losing hope because you can't get to any light or see the stars.'

'I do not,' the elf retorted haughtily, slightly perturbed by the man's description of him. 'It's very disconcerting to be there. Everything is dead or dying. You just try being an elf, we have very sensitive senses, so unlike you men we detect everything, including the faintest odors,' Legolas aimed the last comment at Aragorn in an attempt to get the human's mind off them and thinking about their ongoing friendly squabble.

'That's true,' Aragorn ignored the jab. 'But it's not because you're an elf, it's them. They make you act like that.'

'They do not,' he retorted yet again. 'I am in full control of my actions. I could control myself, but I'm too concerned about you dying from your numerous wounds that I can't stop to take care of myself and keep myself from panicking,' Legolas countered accusingly, crossing his arms. 'So I am in control of my actions.'

'No you're not,' the man shook his head, a disbelieving smile on his face.

'Yes, I am.'

'No, you're not.'

'Am.'

'Not.'

'Am.'

'Not.' By this point Legolas was leaning over the bed with his arms still crossed. Aragorn had moved out from underneath the covers a little more as if they were keeping him from winning the argument.

It was at this moment that the door opened, but the two bickering friends did not notice, not even Legolas' elven ears picked up the sound of the door opening. A few minutes later, the intruder finally spoke.

'Well now we know what's taking so long,' the intruder said sarcastically. The bickering quickly came to a halt and the two turned to see Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, standing, arms crossed, leaning in the door way, playful, yet somewhat devious grins on their faces.

'He won't get out of bed,' Legolas exclaimed, exasperated as he pointed to the man on the bed.

'What,' the two elves exclaimed in unison, shock evident in their voices.

'Why not,' Elrohir asked in a lower tone once he recovered from the surprise.

'He's afraid,' Legolas explained, turning back to the elves.

'Of what,' Elladan asked surprised.

'Them,' Legolas spoke again, not seeing the glare of anger he received from Aragorn.

'Who,' Elrohir asked, confused.

'Don't say it,' Aragorn warned, giving Legolas a stern look. Ignoring him, the archer spoke.

'The fanfic writers.'

'Not them again,' Elladan exclaimed exasperated.

'I thought you were over this Aragorn,' Elrohir looked disappointedly at Aragorn.

'They're dangerous,' the man protested. 'Don't you see they control us all? We don't really have any say in our own actions.'

'I don't know about that, Elladan,' Elrohir turned to his brother, asking him in a mocking tone. 'I think I have control over my actions. Do you?'

'I'm quite sure that I am in control of myself,' his twin answered in like manner.

'Of course you two are in control of yourselves, they don't do anything to you,' Aragorn explained as if they should have realized this already.

'And they do things to you?' Elladan still didn't believe.

'Yes,' the man said impatiently. 'They don't let me alone. They're always after me and when they're not, they're thinking of how best to hurt me the next time they get a hold of me. It's terrible,' Aragorn cried. 'They delight in the torture; they thrive on it. I doubt they could go through a single day without feeling the need to hurt me in some way.' Once Aragorn had finished, Elrohir turned to his brother, telling him to find Elrond.

'No,' Aragorn shouted, causing the three elves to stop and look at him. 'Don't get Ada. I'll…,' he hesitated, 'I'll get out of bed.' Pushing aside the covers, he swung his feet over to the edge of the bed and cautiously placed them on the floor. When nothing happened, he let out a sigh of relief and stood quickly, swaying as he did so, his head suddenly feeling very light. Legolas and his brothers rushed to help him, as he placed a hand on the bed to steady himself.

'I knew it would happen. I just knew it,' he mumbled angrily under his breath.

'Aragorn,' Legolas called out, his concern for the man evident in his voice. Being the closest to the bed, he was the first to reach Aragorn, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.

'Are you alright?' Elladan asked.

'What happened?' Elrohir asked before Elladan had even finished his question.

'I'm fine,' Aragorn said before he knew it as tried to placate their concerns. 'I stood too fast, that is all.'

'I think it is a little more than that, stubborn ranger,' Legolas said knowingly. 'You are too warm to the touch. Are you sure you are not ill?'

'Yes,' Aragorn confirmed before sneezing. The three elves looked at him doubt evident in their faces. 'Ok,' he conceded, 'I may be a little ill.'

'It was the rainstorm we got caught in on the way back from battling with the orcs,' Legolas surmised. 'Really Aragorn, I'm beginning to think I cannot take you anywhere.'

'It's not my fault,' Aragorn protested. 'It's…' his sentence was cut off by a sneeze.'

'Them,' the elves monotoned, irritation evident in their voices.

'Well, I guess we aren't going hunting today,' Elrohir said. 'Or at least you aren't,' he looked to his human brother who still leaned against the bed, though he did not seem light-headed anymore.

'No, I'm going,' Aragorn pushed off the bed, standing tall. 'There's no point in me staying here anymore. If they can get me here, they can get me out there. The only difference is, out there I can get away,' Aragorn said. 'I hope,' he added under his breath. With that, he began to make his way to his armoire.

'Aragorn,' Elladan started as his mortal brother opened the doors to his armoire, 'Ada will not let you go.'

'Yes, he will,' Aragorn's voice was muffled slightly as he sorted through his clothes. 'He'll let me go because you won't tell him about all of this.'

'Yes we will,' Elrohir agreed with his twin.

'No, you wo…' he was cut off first by a thump, which was followed by a yelp of pain.

'Aragorn,' Legolas called. 'Are you…'

'I'm fine,' he cut his friend off, moving away from the armoire. As he came into view, the others saw him rubbing the top of his head, a mixture of pain and annoyance on his face. They also took note of a small gash on his forehead, presumably from whatever fell on him.

'What happened,' Elrohir moved to help his younger brother, picking up a nearby towel to press against the cut.

'That box fell on me,' Aragorn pointed to the offending wooden box, now lying innocently on the floor. 'Don't,' he tried to pull away from his brother's ministrations, 'it's fine and I'm fine.'

'Aragorn, stop it,' Elrohir said firmly, at which the man stopped immediately. Elrohir held the cloth to Aragorn's forehead for a few more seconds before taking it away to examine the cut. 'It doesn't look too bad,' he conceded.

'See,' Aragorn stepped away from Elrohir. 'I told you that I was fine,' he continued backing up, not seeing the growing concern in his brothers' and friend's faces. 'Now I'm going to get ready and we will go hunting like we planned to,' his voice rose as he tripped backwards on a trunk Legolas kept there when he stayed in Rivendell. As he fell, his head collided painfully with the wall for the trunk was a little too close to the wall.

'Aragorn,' the three called out in unison, worry evident in their voice as they rushed to his side. Taking hold of his arms, they carefully brought him to his feet as he tried to regain his bearings. 'I'm fine,' he said once again without realizing it. When he did, he shook off their holds on him and stepping over the trunk Aragorn when to his armoire.

'That's it,' he called as he quickly rummaged through his things, 'I'm going. I can't stay here any longer. It's too dangerous. I'm better off out in the open. At least there I can run and maybe keep a step ahead of them.'

'You cannot leave,' Legolas pleaded with Aragorn as he moved away from the armoire, carrying his sword, cloak, bedroll, and packs of supplies. 'You don't need to; no one is out to get you.'

'I can and I'm going,' he told them decisively and headed for the door.

'Elladan, grab him,' Elrohir called as he rushed Aragorn. The twins grabbed him by the shoulders before he left the room. 'We cannot let you go when you are ill and we do not yet know if you have hurt yourself with that fall.'

'Of course they hurt me, I probably have a severe head injury from that fall that won't show up until later and then I'll become deathly ill from it, but I don't care. As for the cold, I'd imagine it is pneumonia; I seem to get that a lot. It'll be the worst case Ada has seen in a while. I'll be unconscious for days and you'll all fear I'm going to die. Doesn't matter though, because I still don't care,' he turned to them, enunciating his words as he tried to pull away from their grasps, but was unsuccessful. 'I have to get away from THEM.'

'Mellon nin,' Legolas' voice was calm as he walked toward the brothers, coming to the front to face Aragorn directly. 'I can assure you that they are not here. They will not hurt you. Now let us tend to you,' the archer tried to soothe the man's fears, but it did not work.

'They are here, you just don't understand,' he cried back, once again trying to get free from his brothers' grasps.

'Who is here,' a calm, deep voice questioned. Turning, Legolas saw that it was Elrond. 'I thought you four were set to leave early this morning. What is wrong?'

'He's afraid,' the three elves said, pointing to the man they surrounded.

'Oh,' the elf lord's eyebrows rose as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. This should be interesting, he thought. 'Of what,' he asked calmly.

'Them,' Legolas answered plainly, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

'Them,' Elrond asked, not sure of whom he meant.

'Yes, ada,' Elladan spoke up, 'the fanfic writers.'

'Don't talk about them,' Aragorn hissed.

'For Valar's sake Aragorn,' Legolas turned to face him, his voice rising as he did so, 'they are not here.'

'I thought we had settled this. You told me they were not real. That you were delirious form the pain of your wounds.' Elrond asked Aragorn.

'It is settled, Ada,' Aragorn assured him.

'You being afraid to get out of bed because of them is not settled Aragorn,' Elrond's voice rose. 'You are not going anywhere until this is settled.'

'I have settled everything. I have to leave,' Aragorn stated in a firm voice. He tried to leave yet again. This time, however, his brothers did not anticipate his attempt and he was able to pull himself away and move past Legolas before anyone realized what he was doing.

'Don't let him leave, Ada,' Elrohir called, but Aragorn had already slipped past Elrond and was now well into the hallway walking toward the stairs.

'He is ill,' Elladan informed his father, pushing through the doorway to get to Aragorn. Behind him, Elrohir and Elrond followed.

'In more than one way I fear,' Legolas spoke under his breath, before joining them.

Despite their best efforts, however, they did not reach him before he hit the stairs. Thus, they could only watch from the top of the steps as he tripped, tumbling down more than two-thirds of the thirty-some marble steps that led to the down stairs. After cries of pain and gasps of shock, Aragorn finally reached the bottom, coming to a stop when he crashed into a servant carrying a plate of ceramic plates into the kitchen from the morning meal. He barely had time to turn his face to the ground before the plates began to hit him, breaking upon impact and nicking his arms and the side of his face as they did so.

'Aragorn!' he heard a delayed cry from the top of the steps, but was not sure who it was. Following the cry, he heard several feet coming down the steps. They wanted to help him, but they wanted him to stay here. He wasn't safe here. He had to get away, somewhere where THEY couldn't find him. Slowly, but resolutely, he got to his feet.

'I'm fine,' he assured them. When he realized what he said cursed under his breath before adding quickly, 'I'm going.'

The elves stopped when they reached the first floor, instead watching him rise. The majority of the ceramic shards fell off as he stood, but some of them didn't. Elrond shuddered as he saw those shards that had remained, sticking out of his son's skin, blood beginning to seep from the wounds. He also noticed Aragorn leaning heavily on left leg, the right one turned at a slight angle from an obvious break. His left arm hung limp at his side, from a break or dislocation, Elrond did not know and did not want to think about it. He could only stand there, wondering how his son did not seem to feel the pain from these serious wounds.

'You cannot,' Elrond said, forcing himself to stop thinking about the pain from the wounds. 'You are injured and let us help you.'

'No, you'll just keep me here,' Aragorn slowly, but somehow steadily, backed up. 'I can't stay here. They know I'm here. I'm not safe here anymore.'

Unfortunately, Aragorn did not realize how mad he sounded and looked. Even more unfortunately, however, was the glass chandelier he did not realize was being hung right behind him, nor the unsteady grip the workers had on it. The four elves in front of him tried to warn him as the chandelier fell from the workers' hands, pummeling towards the floor. Aragorn did not hear their warnings however, for he was busy figuring out how to get out of the house. When the chandelier hit, he was not beneath it, rather a few feet in front of it, giving just enough space for the glass shards flying through the air to find their way into his back. He did not fall though in fact, he felt no pain from the cuts.

'Aragorn, let us help you,' Legolas pleaded with his friend.

'No, I'm fine,' Aragorn repeated. Looking back, he saw that if he could make it safely around the chandelier he would be free. He started to move backwards again when one of the workers rose from trying to pick up the glass and banged his arm into Aragorn's back, shoving one of the glass pieces further into his back. Aragorn did not cry out, but felt his vision dim as his whole body was overcome with pain. Looking up, he saw concerned looks on his families' and friend's faces as they rushed towards him. Behind them, he saw the house moving and tried to keep standing as a wave of nausea hit him.

'I'm fine,' he mumbled as the blackness crept further into his vision and he felt himself falling backwards. He did not know whom, but someone caught him as he lost his last grip on consciousness and lowered him to the ground.

'Yeah right,' Legolas muttered in reply as he caught Aragorn's quickly falling body, setting it gently on an area of the floor that was not covered in glass.

'Those DARN fanfic writers,' the four elves muttered under their breath as they knelt to tend to Aragorn's injuries.