Hehe, you know that Orc in The Two Towers that is running along with the flaming torch and Legolas shoots him, like, twice, don't ya think that he reminds you of the Orcan version of Boromir?? He just won't fucking die!!! LOL

Ok, I am over it! Well, here you go, the last chapter of this little story - get the tissues!!! Personally, I think it is kinda too corny, but then again, I am not one for the romance type of stuff, so it could just be me. But seriously, please review and tell me what you think.

Here we go. . .are you ready?


Dangerously in Love

Chapter Six

No One's Untouchable part 3

The Conclusion


This life well it's slipping right through my hands

These days turned out nothing like I had planned

Control well it's slipping right through my hands

These days turned out nothing like I had planned

"These Day's," Powder Finger


From one of the further corners of the room, a man came over, a towel over his shoulder and Legolas automatically recognized him as the man the he had yelled at and had assisted Aragorn into the cave.

"How you holding up?" the man asked, no resentment or hate in his voice at all. Nodding mutely, Legolas allowed the man to help him to the edge of the bed and sit up, his legs dangling over the side. "You can call me Carson," the man said when the Elf shot him an inquisitive glance, "I was the one that you threatened earlier!" he said with a small laugh at the embarrassed look on the Elf's face.

"Sorry about that-" Legolas started only to be cut off when the man rose his hand to silence him.

"'Tis alright, I understand," he said seriously, "and your friend is fine, he has been helping me out with some of the men."

Looking up and catching the healers gaze, Legolas smiled and nodded his head, "thank you!"

Offering his own nod, the healer sighed and started to pull the Elf's cloak off his shoulders. "Well then, let's get you fixed up now." At the look of obvious distaste that passed Legolas' face due to the thought of having someone worry about him while others where worse off, Carson dropped all his equipment on the side of the bed, crossed his arms, leant on is right leg and glared at the Elf. "Legolas, isn't it?" he asked and when the Elf confirmed his question, Carson went on. "Alright Legolas, it is your choice. We can do this one of two ways; the hard way - which your friend over there chose," he motioned to the now sleeping Aragorn, "which involves you being stubborn and not telling me where it hurts which will eventually lead to me pushing and prodding about and eventually causing you more pain. Or," he said with a large, friendly smile, "you can just tell me what hurts and I will do my best to fix it. Now it is up to you, but I do strongly suggest the latter of the options - from personal experience of course."

Not being able to help the large smile that spread across his face, Legolas looked to the sleeping Aragorn and then back to Carson. "Only if you promise not to tell him that I took the easy way!" he said while motioning towards Aragorn.

"I would never dream of it!" Carson said with a bow, "now, where does it hurt?" he asked, his mood once again serious and his mind back on the task at hand.

"I suppose that 'everywhere' is not your preferred response?" Legolas joked and seeing the slight frown on Carson's face, he knew that it was not what the healer wanted to hear.

"Nay, it is not," the man said grimly. Looking over the Elf, the first thing that he saw was the bound up hand. Reaching over, he took it gently in his hands and started to unbind it to gain a better look. "Now, tell me exactly."

"Alright," Legolas sighed while biting his lip against the pain that even the slight treatment of his hand caused. "My hand has been crushed, as you can see. I think I have a few broken ribs and a number of burns to my back. My throat feels as if I ingested fire and it is causing problems breathing properly, but, other then that, I am fine."

Gently prodding the crushed hand, Carson corrected him, "you forgot the wound to your cheek, the cut on your arm and the large wound to your back."

"The cheek is only a scratch as is the one on my arm and the one on my back is days old," Legolas countered, wondering how the healer knew of the wound along his shoulder.

"But they still need seeing to nonetheless," Carson said while laying Legolas' useless hand on the soft cloth. Taking hold of Legolas' chin he pushed it up, first inspecting the angry blue-green bruises that marred his pale skin and then the cut on his cheek. Following that he moved to the other side of the bed and, aiding the worn out prince, lifted up the tattered tunic and slipped it off the Elf's head. "This is bad," he said, referring to the blisters that covered his lower back, "and the shoulder wound is no better. How long has it been seeping blood for?"

Legolas turned his head to try and see the wounds in question, but a sharp pain from his shoulder put a stop to such efforts and hissing slightly through his teeth he replied, "not that long - had a small encounter."

"Well," Carson said while coming back around the bed and looking the Elf in the eyes, "you are definitely one to make the least out of serious situations."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Legolas demanded somewhat testily. He liked Carson well enough for a human, but at the same time the man had a strange way of aggravating him and putting him on edge. He seemed the type that would be considered sneaky, and yet at the same time he was open for all to read like a book. Shaking his head clear of the strange and confusing thoughts, Legolas focused on listening to the healers reply.

"It is meant to mean that you are in pretty bad shape, Legolas," the man said, sincerity in his voice which, for some reason, did more to create the Elf's split judgment on him. "I'll be right back," he said while moving off into the direction of the storeroom that branched off the main large chamber.

For the first time that day, Legolas allowed himself to fully relax and to try to let the worries that had sat like heavy stones upon his shoulders slip away. The situation was far from being alright or even bearable, but at least they had some sort of protection for now - no matter how feeble it seemed in his eyes.

Looking over to the pale, sleeping human, Legolas could not help but let his mind wander to all the unanswered questioned that had sprung in his head since that moment in the mud. What of Arwen? How long had the human felt this way and was it seriously what Legolas wanted? The Elf had never looked upon Aragorn as anything more then a fried all these years that they had known one another, and yet within the last hour or so, he had more then once made the move on the human. Yet was it truly due to his feelings or just the desperation of the situation that had made him act so, seeking whatever comfort and reassurance that he could?

"Here, chew on these!" Carson's voice came unexpectedly to his ears and as Legolas turned his head, he saw the human was standing right next to him, his hand held out and offering him three small roots while a small basket was clasped in the other. Frowning at the fact that he had not heard the human approach, Legolas reached out a shaky right hand and took the three roots. Two he recognized - Yellow Dock which was a high source of iron and used greatly in the treatment of replenishing one of their lost strength and the other was a sprig of Comfrey used to help stop internal bleeding. The other, a small green stem was alien to him, and, not completely trusting the healer, he handed it back, showing that he would only take to other two.

Smiling at the cautious Elf, Carson thrust the stem back at Legolas with a soft spoken explanation. "It is a human treatment - Solomon's Seal - thrives on the road side or in thick woodlands and is especially good with the mending of broken bones. It will do you no harm so I suggest that you take it."

Casting another weary look at the offered root, Legolas sighed deeply and took it, plopping it into his mouth with the other three. He had heard Aragorn speak of such a plant a couple of times and the descriptions matched, so he took it, putting his faith in Aragorn more so then the healer.

"Alright," Carson said while again taking Legolas' broken hand lightly in his, "this may be a little warm, but it will get through and relieve the pain." With that said, he picked up a small mortar with a thick green substance pounded in it and from where Legolas was sitting, the Elf could see the steam raising off the surface of the bowl. "This is just some Henbane and Witch Hazel," the healer explained as he want along, putting the Elf's mind at ease with his tactics. "The Henbane will remove a great amount of the pain and the other will make sure to stop any internal bleeding that may have occurred with so many small breaks."

Applying the mixture, Legolas let out a small hiss as the heated paste came into contact with his already screaming flesh. The pain was not unbearable, but it was a great battle of wills to keep his hand from jerking away from the rubbing touch that made each finger cry out in protest.

Once his hand was thickly covered in the green substance, Carson took a steaming cloth and wrapped it tightly around the Elf's hand, again pulling soft hisses from the prince's lips as he bound the hand so it could not move.

"See," Carson said gently while reaching for another small bowl, "that was not too bad!"

Offering the healer a small, un-encouraging smile, Legolas bowed his head, fighting the urge to inform him that it was not too good either.

"Next," Carson said with a smile, "we shall see to these ribs. I will not do the same for them as I did your hand as it is to large an area, so we will just have to hope that Solomon's Seal can help us with that, but this will help the bruises."

Placing his hand into the mortar, he scooped out a large amount of a light salve which Legolas automatically knew as being formed out of Myrtle, a plant that was plentiful in Mirkwood and known for its healing abilities and the beauty of its small, white flowers.

As the healer rubbed it into his chest and the ugly, dark blotches against his pale skin, Legolas was pleased to find that the man was being a little more careful in the amount of pressure that he placed on the wound. As soon as he was done, the man turned his attention to Legolas' throat, and after an amount of inspection, settled for spreading some of the salve on the blue-green dotted skin as well.

Moving around the small bed and climbing up onto the space behind the Elf, he gently pushed Legolas' head forward brushed the long hair away from his back. The large, open wound on his back was still bleeding profoundly, dripping in long, crimson streaks down his back and onto the waistband of his pants. The cut's jagged edges were peeled back, showing that it had been healing until the unfortunate run in with that large Orc where the thin layer of healed skin had been torn open, spilling forth more blood that now looked as if it would never stop.

Pulling the basket back over to him, Carson sorted through the herbs that he had had prepared until he found a small pot of blended Sage and Oak. Both had been boiled not that long ago, forming a runny liquid out of the sap and the leaves adding texture to the mixture. Holding the pot just above the wound, he drizzled a small amount on, catching Legolas unawares and enticing a yelp of surprise from the Elf as the cool liquid trailed down through the open wound. Using a cloth to stop the running liquid before it moved onto the burns, Carson gently patted the open wound with the damp material, spreading as much of the substance on the large cut as he could. Within moments, he was able to see the bleeding slow and, after a little while longer, stop completely, the herbs helping in the clotting of the blood vessels near the tear.

"I have stopped the bleeding so that a salve may be applied - does it sting?" Carson asked the Elf who shook his head in a no. "That is good, it means that it has worked properly," Carson explained his question as he reached for yet another mortar. "This contains a small amount of Calendula, Hyssop, comfrey and cornflower and will help speed up the healing process as well as stop any further un-induced bleeding." Nodding again, Legolas let the healer work, not having the strength or the heart to argue with him at the moment, plus, he was yet to pick up on any indication that the man was not telling the truth or was doing anything wrong. Carson seemed to be a great and practiced healer who knew what he was talking about, even if Legolas did not completely like the human's character.

The process of spreading the salve onto the wound was one that Legolas was not looking forward to enduring any time again soon. Each stroke, no matter how gentle or feather-light, brought forth a searing pain that sent his entire body into small waves of shocked shivers and the feel of someone else grazing their hand through his open wound was one that he did not treasure above any other.

"I will bind it soon," Carson said as he applied a small amount of the same cream to Legolas' cheek and arm ere cleaning his hands on a cloth before grabbing hold of another jar. "This is just some Slippery Elm and Comfrey with bees wax for the burns. It will stop any further blistering and help subdue the pain that these will cause later on."

Not feeling the need to speak, Legolas just prepared himself for the painful sensation that he knew would come. The salve was cool to his heated skin, and almost immediately quenched the fire and the need that he felt to scratch at the blisters in order to stop the throbbing.

After a short while, the majority of the pain from his wounded back was numbed, and, with a great amount of care, Carson bound up the Elf's entire midsection, keeping it tight for the benefit of the broken ribs and yet loose enough not to cause any of the blisters to rupture.

Moving off the bed, Carson walked away without another word to the far side of the room. Returning a few moments later, he held a small hardened leather cup filled with a steaming liquid which he handed over to the Elf. "It will help with the sore throat that you said about." He offered as the Elf smelt it cautiously.

"And put me to sleep," Legolas exclaimed while handing the cup back to the healer and shaking his head. "I do not need any Valerian to hinder my senses!"

Sighing, the healer placed the cup on the side of the bed ad sat next to the Elf. "Legolas!" he stated firmly, used to dealing with somewhat unwilling patients. "Sleep will do you good at the moment. You need your rest to heal and so that you can help us get out of here - plus," he added a little more on a bright note, "the Gaurana will take away that dizziness that I knew you are suffering from and the Mullein and Bayberry will clear the pain from your throat before you even fall asleep."

"And the Black Cohosh that I smelt?" Legolas questioned, turning hate filled eyes on the healer, "that is poisonous!"

"It is good for circulation and replenishing the blood supply to the body and only deadly if used in large amounts." At the look of distrust that Legolas sent his way, Carson sighed again and lifted the cup to his own lips taking a large drink, and draining half of the contents. "See, it is fine - just a bit bitter," he complained about his own brew, "now drink it or I will force it down your throat before I fall asleep! Even your friend over there had some, and he is still alive as you can see."

Finally giving in, Legolas snatched the cup and smelt the liquid again, pleased of his heightened senses. He could detect no more then what he had first found, and, seeing that the healer had taken some of it, decided to put his trust in the man. Lifting the cup to his lips, he drained the contents slowly while keeping his eyes on Carson.

"See, it was not that hard," Carson said while taking the cup from him and standing. Grabbing the Elf's dirtied tunic, he saw that it was partially in tatters. "Stay here and I shall get you a new shirt."

When he returned, he held a white undershirt and a green tunic, much like Legolas' own in his hands. Carson assisted the Elf in pulling the clothes over his head, allowing the Elf to lace up the front of the shirt while he laced the sides of the fitting tunic together.

"There," he said with a smile at the finished product. It was quite remarkable how much cleaner Legolas looked already with just his wounds dressed and new clothes. Even though his face was still dirty and his hair covered in dried mud and blood, he was staring to look something like the Elven prince that he was and not just some warrior who had been crawling around in the mud. "In a few days, you will be as good as new!"

"Thank you," Legolas muttered while settling down onto his side, feeling the strong sleeping drug starting to work already. Carson walked away, a smile on his face as he carried the rest of his equipment away from his latest patient and went onto the next.

All around him people were running backwards and forwards or just lying down as he, and a number of times he was sure that he saw the blurred image of Gimli lending a hand and yet casting a worried look over in his direction.

Looking to Aragorn, Legolas felt a strange shiver move up his spin. In his near delirious, drugged state, it seemed as if a dark cloud hung above the human's head, darkening all that it came into contact with and all that surrounded it. It seemed to whisper of ill tidings and news, things that should not be uttered even in the safety of ones house let alone in the midst of such a place of death and suffering that was overrun with evil.

Rising from his bed, Legolas shot a better look at the human before turning his eyes on the people around him. A dark shadow seemed to linger over each and every one, whether they be asleep, standing or bleeding slowly to their sure death, each one carried their own personal shadow of death at their side.

Moving carefully off the bed, the Elf reached over and took hold of the side of Aragorn's to stable himself. Shifting stiffly over to the bed, he turned around and sat down on the edge, looking at the sleeping face of the human. As he watched, it was almost like the shadow lifted at his presence and retreated into the land of darkness from whence it came.

Aragorn seemed to be in pain, even in sleep, and the constant twitching of his eyes suggested that he was suffering a nightmare or some form of images that the Elves did not.

Frowning, Legolas lay down on the straw next to the man and gently placed his head on Aragorn's rising chest. Tucking an arm around the human's waist and the other up near his neck, he buried his head further into the conscious man's chest.

Happy with his position, he let his eyes wander up to Aragorn's face, and, biting his bottom lip, whispered, "if you die on me, I will never forgive you." Hiding his head once again, the Elf felt the human move unconsciously in his sleep and place an arm around his waist, drawing him closer.

Smiling, the Elven prince allowed sleep to come to him, knowing that, even if fate took a turn for the worse, as least he was with someone who cared about him, even if he did not understand his own feelings.


A shrill scream pierced Legolas' world of dreams, and, letting his eyes clear and adjust to the strange form of lighting in the room, he carefully pulled himself out of Aragorn's encircling arms.

Already he could feel the strange tingling of his wounds healing, but at the same time he knew that they were far from being well and that he should not move too much. His ribs felt as if they had a life of their own, pulsing against his bruised skin like his heart beat in his chest, and his hand felt much the same as it hung limply by his side, the blood slowly traveling down to his crushed fingers. His back was in no better condition and his shoulder felt cramped up from the constant strain that he had applied to it the day past. His vision was slightly blurry and his head light and dazed due to the after effect of the sleeping drug that Carson had administered so even the slightest turn of his head sent the world into a spin around him.

Casting caution and reason into the wind, he stood to his feet somewhat slowly and looked around him to try and work out what was happening.

People were running everywhere, some with buckets and others supporting badly wounded warriors. A strong smell hung in the air, one that made Legolas feel queasy and ill as he quickly recognized it as the smell of burning straw and blood. Shouts of "Fire!" and "Help!" reverberated off the walls and rung in his ears, each cry seeming more desperate and pleading then the last one.

Legolas stood there, next to Aragorn's bed trying to put two and two together through his foggy head and yet with no luck as more and more people ran this way and that. He was about to stop someone and ask of them what was happening when the answer almost struck him in the head.

Something feel from above, the force of its fall disturbing the air enough to be brought to the prince's attention, and, looking down on the ground terrifying clarity came over him.

Somehow, the Orcs had managed to get on top of the cave citadel and were dropping flaming torches through the holes in the ceiling, thus setting fire to the straw beds and the flammable blood that covered the floors.

Stamping on the burning torch, he put it out completely before reaching over and shaking Aragorn, the Elf waited until his eyes were open and staring at him as if he were insane before turning and doing the same to the still sleeping Gimli.

"Watch him!" Legolas instructed Gimli while pointing to Aragorn. At the nod of confirmation that Gimli gave, the Elf turned and moved as quickly as he could towards the corner with the most fire. Pushing his way through the crowed people, he came up to the front of the gathering only to be hit with a gush of hot air. Shielding his face from the dancing flames, he could see that the fire had consumed all of the straw that had been saved as a spare pile for later on in the siege and was rapidly spreading through the now empty beds and the little streams of dried blood.

Turning to the closest man, which, unluckily enough for the man happened to be the same healer from last night, Legolas grabbed him by the scruff of the neck again and raised his voice over that of the flames. "Why in Valar's name are you not doing anything?" he shook Carson for slight emphasis ere pushing him back into the crowd.

Searching the faces, he could not see Éomer's anywhere and his distaste for the man only heightened. Turning back to Carson he moved forward so that he could easily be heard. "Go find Éomer!" he instructed and when the man made no move to go, he gave him a little encouraging push, "NOW!"

Facing the rest of the people who seemed happy enough to scream and shout for assistance and yet not do anything, he grabbed at the closest one. "You!" he said, "you are now in charge here. I want these beds and pallets moved to the far corner, and water - we need water to try and douse the fire and to wash away the blood else the whole place will go up in flames. Do you understand?"

The man nodded and started barking out the orders that he was just given and both were pleased when the gathered people obeyed without a thought or question. They were all just begging for a leader, for someone to come forth and tell them what to do so that they could at least feel as though they had a chance of surviving.

Seeing this, Legolas decided that it was best if he continued giving them things to do to keep them occupied. Pointing to another man, he called, "you, what's your name?"

The man was young, no more then twenty years of age and he trembled when the angry looking Elf singled him out. Yet, being the warrior that he was, he bravely stepped forward, ready for a good shaking or something worse as Carson had received more then once from the same being. "Geoffrey, sir," he said hesitantly.

Smiling down at the youth, Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him away from the fire. "Alright Geoffrey," he said calmly, "I need you to go around and muster as many men that are able to fight as possible."

Not even giving his reply, the young man ran off and Legolas could see him though the crowd, checking on men and directing ones that were able bodied towards one corner. Looking behind him saw that the beds were still being moved and that a number of people were busily scrubbing the blood from the floor, Legolas turned around and headed back to his friends knowing that he could do on more there. There was still no sigh of Éomer, and Legolas could not help but think that maybe that was a good thing.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's worried voice came to him and the Elf looked up to see the man sitting on the edge of the bed. "What is going on?"

Frowning and pushing the man back down, Legolas shot an angered look at Gimli who merely shrugged and rolled his eyes. "You should not be up!" the Elf stated casually while pushing the human back down as he once again tried to sit up.

"But what happened?" Aragorn insisted while allowing the Elf to idly twist a lock of his hair.

"Look up," Legolas instructed of both him and Gimli. Looking up himself, he could now see the shadows of the Orcs that moved about the top of the stone ceiling through the holes and even as they watched, another flaming piece of wood fell to land near all the others. "The holes are for ventilation and light," he explained at the horrified look on both his friends' faces, "but apparently these human's never thought of the possibility of the enemy dropping anything from above. Somehow the Orc's have found their way above and they have been throwing torches down on us. The straw storage seems to be their target at the moment, and I have people working on it, but the beds and blood - it is spreading," he added with a sigh. "The beds around are catching from the intense heat and the very floor itself is alight."

It was then that Éomer came into his view at the furthest end of the great citadel, and, patting Aragorn's shoulder and telling them both to stay put, Legolas moved off through the crowd, keeping an eye on the man.

"Éomer!" he called as he came within hearing distance. "Where have you been?" The human looked as if he had aged over night; his face was a deathly shade of grey and his eyes rimmed in darkness. His hair fell about his shoulders, wispy and crumpled and his eyes seemed to stare into space.

"Éomer?" Legolas once again called while standing next to the man, finally gaining his attention.

"Legolas?" the man asked softly, while looking about as if he knew not where he was. Seeing the Elf, his eyes seemed to clear as if he were remembering all that had happened and his face quickly changed from disorientation to realization. "You were right," he said, his tone defeated as he admitted his blunder and fault, casting his pride aside once again in the face of the Elf. "You were right - we should have done something about the holes."

"That does not matter now," Legolas said quietly, "but what you do now does - this is what will count."

"Sir?" a voice inquired, causing both to turn. Éomer looked down at the young man known as Geoffrey ready to answer any of his questioned only to have the man turn to Legolas and continue speaking. "Sir, I have gathered at least twenty. They are over waiting near the door, all armed and ready, and Alan, the one that you put in charge of the fire break, says that it does not look good. They have cleared the floor, but the enclosed space just means that no matter how far away the straw is, it is still catching. Also, another fire has come up at the opposite end of the hall. Carson thinks the Orc's know that we are trying to put it out so that they are going to spread it so that we have no chance."

Sighing at the bad news, Legolas gently rubbed his temples, feeling a pounding in his head from the heat and the stress that he had been putting on his wounds. "Thank you, Geoffrey," he said softly while casting his gaze over the panicked room. He could still see Aragorn and Gimli sitting in the middle of the room, their eyes on him, and at his actions he could see Aragorn's worry. Sending him a reassuring smile, he went to turn his gaze back to Éomer only to find that Geoffrey was looking at him intensively.

"Yes?" the Elf questioned.

"What now, sir?" Geoffrey asked Legolas while not even paying attention to Éomer.

Thinking as quickly as his sore head would allow him, he looked about the room, searching for anything to send the young man off to do. "Gather as many people as you can to see to the smaller fires," he said slowly, trying to think of the best possible thing to do, "and then try to pre-clear a good area of all straw, blood and anything flammable so we can move the most severely wounded there."

"Yes sir!" the boy said almost excitedly while offering a small salute while he ran off, shouting orders left, right and center.

"Well," Éomer said with a hint of jealousy, "you seem to have everything under control."

Looking about the room to make himself look busy due to his discomfort as to where this conversation was going, Legolas replied casually, "it is far from under control, but they needed something to do to keep their minds off the threat at hand."

"And they seem all too eager to listen to you," Éomer pointed out, his tone slightly malicious.

Legolas turned around and glared at the man, his past unease pushed aside by slight anger. "I will not pretend to know what you meant by that but you were nowhere to be found and someone needed to give them an order. They need it, need to be told what to do so that they feel as if there is hope. Whether it be me, you or anyone of the smarter warriors here they would listen for the sole hope of being able to save themselves - they are even listening to that boy that you just saw, that is how much they need someone stable of mind to take charge."

Nodding slightly and holding his tongue Éomer looked about the room, seeing that people were clearing a large section of the far wall and slowly moving the wounded in just as the Elven prince had suggested. More people were throwing water and hitting the smaller flames with blankets while others scrubbed at the floors to remove the blood. Over by the door he could see a handful of his better warriors waiting, fully armed and covered head to toe with armor, obviously the ones that Geoffrey had spoken of.

"Aright, let me into the mind of a stable person and tell me what you are planning." Éomer gave in with a sigh, seeing that he could not match what the Elf had down and that, as much as he thought and tried, he could not see anything else that needed to be instructed.

"It does not look good," Legolas said truthfully, "as I just said, they are mainly doing this to keep their minds off the inevitable. The Orcs are not trying to smoke us out, they just want us dead else they would have covered the holes by now and with the condition of this place, it will not be long before the fires are out of our control. As Geoffrey said, they are spreading and there is nothing that we can do. I have ordered a group of the lesser injured warriors to aid me in an attempt a go at the Orcs above but that is really just a suicide mission and I think that they know that. If anything it may buy us sometime to get most of the people out, but where to go after that I do not know."

A long pause followed as both just stood there and watched the panicked people run back and forth, shouting and, as time went on, coughing and spluttering on the smoke that was starting to hand in the room.

Turning to the Elf, Éomer placed a hand on his shoulder and waited until Legolas made eye contact. "You have done well,' he said assumingly, "better then I ever could have and, as far as I can see, our best bet is to take the warriors up and try to at least buy as some times - as you said."

Nodding, Legolas turned towards where he had left his weapons near Aragorn's bed and yet Éomer's hand on his shoulder stop him once again. "You are not going," the man told him causing Legolas to narrow his eyes at the feeling of déjà vu. "You look as if you are about to fall over," Éomer tried to douse the fire that had sprung up in Legolas' eyes, "and the men down here need you. I will go up, you stay here incase there is a chance to get everyone out. This is not you and your friends' fight so if there is an opening, I want you to take it and flee to the far of the Deep. There is an old weaponry and storehouse there that will offer you some form of shelter until the Orcs leave. Consider that as one of my final orders!"

Concurring with a slight bow, Legolas moved away from the human and back towards Aragorn and Gimli. Sitting down next to Aragorn with a sigh, he lent his head on his long time friend's shoulder and allowed the man to loop an arm around his waist, pulling him closer.

"What happened? Gimli asked, casting the two an inquisitive look. He had known that they were close, but never thought that they were that close.

"Éomer is going to lead the group of men that I have standing over at the door in a last attempt to destroy the Orcs."

"And you are not going!" Aragorn said pointedly while hugging the Elf further into his arms.

"He already made that perfectly clear," Legolas mumbled. "We are to stay here and help keep everyone under control and lead them out if there is an opening in the Orcs defenses. There is an old shed up further in the Deep that we can retreat to if need be."

"Sir?" Geoffrey's voice cut into Legolas' conversation again. At the formal title, Aragorn sent a questioning look at Gimli and when he was met with mirrored ignorance, he looked to Legolas who merely rolled his eyes.

"Yes Geoffrey," Legolas asked with another great sigh.

"We have done as you asked," the man told him, obviously proud of himself, "a large section is cleared and we stocked it with the food supplies as well, so," he said rather dramatically, "if you and your friends would like to follow me, we shall move you in first."

"See to the badly wounded first," Legolas muttered, his eyelids getting heavy as he felt sleep once again coming over him.

"Uh," the young man said, "You three do appear to be the badly wounded," he pointed out with a sad, little smile.

Looking down at himself, Legolas was rather shocked at just how dead he did look. His mid section was bound tightly with bandages that were now soiled and covered with blood. The red substance had slowly started to bloom against his new tunic and shirt, forming deep blotches on the material while his pants were dirtied with mud and blood - both his and that of his victims. A number of smaller bandages covered his arms and hand and, with a quick glance, he saw that Aragorn looked no better, if anything he looked worse and Gimli was pale and his own dressings plastered with dried and fresh blood alike.

Smiling at his two friends, Legolas looked up to the young man, "nay, get the others in first, we shall be fine here for now."

Nodding somewhat disappointedly, Geoffrey hurried off to see to the others, often casting worried glanced back at the three that just sat there, waiting for the unknown.

A shout from above was the first warning of Éomer's attack and with a sinking heart, Legolas realize that he had not even said a final farewell to the human, no matter how much he hated him. The sound of clashing steel and the cries of the dying from above was all that the people fighting the fire below could use as a source of information as to what was happening above.

Sliding off the bed and out of the now complaining Aragorn's grasp, the Elf made his weary way over towards the worst area of the fire. Carson was there, his healing abilities switched for ones of firefighting, as was Alan, the man that he had put in charge of the fire breaks.

Turning on the spot and letting his ice blue eyes trail over all, he saw the already desperate situation getting worse. The fire was everywhere, even catching on the straw at the other side of the room, sparks flying and the heat slowly rising to the point of that which even the Elf could feel. The area cleared for the wounded was getting smaller and smaller, the flames leaping about the cleared borders to the point of, within a few minutes, those within would be trapped behind a wall of flame.

Feeling both Carson and Alan turn their questioning eyes on him, Legolas let his eyes fall on them. Offering them a sad smile, he drew in a deep breath and looked towards the door. "We have to get everyone out." He said the words calmly and bluntly, expressing two emotions that he most certainly did not feel. "There is no stopping the flames, we must flee or burn."

Both men nodded their agreement, putting the apprehensive Elf a little more at ease. "That is wise," Carson said slowly, and, with a shout, he let the Elf's orders travel over the room. A cry went up, each person to hear the command passing it on to the next that was not in earshot and within a few moments all were on their feet, either dragging themselves or a friend towards the great doors.

Reaching out and grabbing hold of Carson's sleeve, Legolas pulled the man close and, with fear in his eyes, said, "please, get my friends out. I will try and get some of the weapons so we may at least have a chance, but get Aragorn and Gimli out."

Grasping the Elf's own shoulder, Carson nodded his head, and, with a small smile, went running off in the direction of where Legolas had left the two remaining members of the fellowship.

Alan was already assisting people in getting out, and, looking around, Legolas saw Geoffrey and three other men slowly making their way to the door. Limping over to them, his wounds causing him more pain then he wanted to let on, Legolas stopped the men with a small smile.

"I would like to ask for your help," you said, "you do not have to acce-"

"What do you want us to do?" Geoffrey asked, showing his faith and trust in the Elf.

"We need to get some of the weapons that have been left behind so that we may at least be able to make a stand outside. Are you up to it?"

"Of course!" Geoffrey stated while looking back at the other men who nodded their heads. Raising an eyebrow, Legolas turned and slowly lead them towards the area that most of the swords and daggers had been piled. A sudden arm around his waist made him gasp, thinking that it was Aragorn, but, looking to the right, he saw that it was Geoffrey, offering him the support in walking that the Elf would never admit to needing.

By the time that they made it through the jumping flame and to the stockpile of weapons, the citadel had been cleared of the all save the five. Filling their arm's with as much as they could all carry; they turned and made their way back as quickly as possible, Geoffrey still helping the Elven prince.

As they were halfway across the fire covered room, a strange scream filled Legolas' pointed ears, and, oddly enough, it seemed to get louder. Looking up, he was met with a horrible, sight, and, acting quickly, he only just managed to throw himself and Geoffrey to the side and ground in time to dodge the falling body of a dying Éomer.

The human hit the stone hard, his scream being cut off mid breath and his eyes frozen open in a shocked expression. Gasping, Legolas half crawled over on his knees and elbows, careful of the flame that leapt all about him. Pushing his right hand into Éomer's throat, he felt no pulse. Time seemed to stand still as he relentlessly moved his hand about the man's neck, trying to find any pulsating that would tell him of his survival.

Finally, the saddening realization of knowing that he could do naught for the human washed over him, and, summoning his strength and will, Legolas looked over his shoulder at the handful of human's that still remained in the dangerous area, waiting for his command.

"Fall out!" he shouted, "get out!" It was an order that he did not want to give, he did not want to sentence them into facing the Orcs but, at the same time they could not stay in here. The fire was out of control, the oxygen all but spent as it feed the greedy flames and the danger of the Orc's still held true even in this so called refuge.

"Get out!" he yelled once again, and allowing Geoffrey to aid him in standing to his feet, lead them out of the burning citadel and to the others that were crowed into the mud covered ravine.

Parting from the young man, Legolas searched through the crowd, looking for Aragorn and Gimli. A sickening panic rose inside of him when neither dwarf nor ranger could be seen, and, taking to his last option, he started to call out for them as he walked.

A hand grasping his shoulder from behind made the Elf whirl around, his right fist balled and flying through the air, stopping only moments before contact after having recognized the man. "Carson!" Legolas stated at the relieved look in the man's eyes when he realized that the fist was not going to continue its journey to his face.

The man just smiled fondly at the Elf, a strange glint in his eyes that Legolas could not quite identify. "In the Deep," the healer informed him while turning Legolas around by his shoulders and leading him along. "In the Deep there is a storehouse - Éomer told you of it, I believe. I have taken Aragorn and Gimli there - it was Éomer's last order, to get you three out of this." Pushing the Elf along quicker, the man continued to explain his actions. "When you sent everyone out, Aragorn almost collapsed, he had lost far too much blood. . .I-I don't think that there is much that I can do for him." Pressing a small bag into the stunned Elf's right hand, he grasped Legolas' shoulders and looked the Elf right in the eyes. "Try, there may still be hope. When you get up there, barricade the door. Do not let anyone in or open it for anything. There should be plenty of supplies in there for you three to use for as long as need be. Now go!"

Gently pushing the Elf away from him, Legolas found that all he could do was stare at the human that he had not fully liked or trusted. "Why?" the prince breathed out, and, as the man stepped close to him and caressed his un-wounded cheek, he fought back the urge to dispel the strange touch.

"I have never met an Elf before," Carson said in all seriousness, his smile reaching even his eyes, "and I am glad that the one that I met was you!" Not knowing what to say, Legolas just smiled back, completely stunned by the man's actions towards him. "Now go!" the healer commanded while giving Legolas an encouraging push in the right direction.

"You could-" Legolas stated, not really wanting to leave the human behind to certain death.

"Nay!" Carson replied, catching Legolas' drift, "I am going to stay with my people, and you must go to your friends." Nodding slightly, Legolas finally worked up the courage to turn his back, leaving the human's that the had fought and almost died for behind as he made his way as hastily as possible up the ravine, using the side of the rock wall for his support.


Banging on the door and calling out for both of his friends, it was only a moment before the door was pulled partly open and a hand wrapped around his hand, hauling him inside the small storehouse. Looking down, he saw that it was Gimli, who, once the Elf was inside, was quickly piling up boxes and crates against the door as a way of reinforcement.

Seeing that the dwarf had it all under control, Legolas let his eyes adjust to the gloom while searching for Aragorn. Spotting him lying propped up against the far wall, Legolas squeezed the small bag in his hands and hurried over to him, hope sailing highly in his heart.

Aragorn's eyes were closed, his skin the colour of pale cream - completely unnatural for him, and, one look at the blood flowing down the Ranger's side was enough to sink the small boat of hope within the Elf.

Keening down next to the human, Legolas let his good hand trail lightly over the man's cold face, fear biting at his heart when Aragorn did not respond. "Aragorn?" he whispered, his voice quivering on even that one word. "Aragorn?" it was a little more desperate now, more pleading then the first.

Looking at the unmoving human, Legolas found himself forgetting everything. For the first time in that dreadful night, he did not think of the Orcs massing just down the Deep, or of the human's that where doomed to die, of his own pain or that of his friends just as he no longer sort to question what he felt for the human. He did not care of Arwen, or what Aragorn's feelings towards him really meant for the three of them - especially the one who had given up her immortality for the man. All he cared about, all that he could think upon, was the horrible, sinking feeling in his heart that came about at the thought of Aragorn passing and leaving him here.

Moving closer to the man, he placed his pointed ear next to the human's mouth, and, when he felt the faint tickle of breath against the sensitive spot, he almost cried for joy.

"Aragorn!" he stated firmly while sitting down next to the human. "Aragorn, open your eyes!" he commanded as he pulled the human into his lap so he could cradle the man's head against his chest and in the crook of his arm. "Aragorn!"

He felt a slight stir in the human that he held, and, slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, Aragorn opened his eyes, locking the storm-grey orbs onto Legolas' sparkling blue.

Letting out a small, relieved chuckle, Legolas pressed a quick kiss to the man's forehead before brushing the sweat drenched hair from Aragorn's brow and eyes.

"Legolas?" the man asked, knowing that it was the Elf, but just needing to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him.

Smiling brightly, Legolas nodded his head and let his hand caress the man's cheek once again. "Yes, it is I," he told the human reassuringly, "and I have some things that may help you-" his voice trailed off slightly at the prospect of the herbs not being able to aid his friend.

Reaching over to open the small bag, he found it getting taken out of his hand by Aragorn, the human's gaze locked onto his. Replacing the bag with his hand, Aragorn looked up at the Elf that lent over him, looking like an angel even through the blood and mud. "Legolas, I have to-"

"No!" the Elf said gently, "there is to be none that! Now give me that bag and let me see what I can do!"

Reaching his other hand up to the Elf's face, Aragorn shook his head, knowing that it was almost over and that there was still more that he wanted to say. "Legolas, I love you, I always have," he said, unheeding of the shocked and slightly embarrassed look upon the Elf's face at his confession. Never had Legolas thought that Aragorn would ever feel such a way, even in the last few hours. "I am sorry that I never told you, but you where not ready. . ."

"Arag -" Legolas went to interrupt, not really knowing why but feeling that he should.

"You still are not ready." At the soft frown that formed on the Elf's brow, Aragorn quietly explained his words, "I see it, you are confused, even a little frightened. You are not ready for this."

Even his eyes could not portray the confusion that Legolas felt as Aragorn spoke, gripping his hand tightly within his. Such a confession of love he had never expected, not from anyone, and, if anything, he had always never really wanted one, preferring the life of a warrior then that of some settled prince. Yet, when Aragorn said such words from his heart, Legolas' past resolve seemed to ebb away, long forsaken while the human stared into his eyes.

Smiling at the human, Legolas sensed Gimli's shock from the other side of the room where he had stopped blocking the door at the hushed words that he never thought he would witness. Ignoring his dwarven friend, Legolas merely cupped Aragorn's cheek and whispered, "I am ready," and, with a slightly sly smile, leaned down and sealed their lips in a kiss.

Both Elf and man poured all their passion and love into that one kiss, treating it as if it were their last. A slight sigh escaped Aragorn, and, dropping his hand from Legolas' face, he invested his concentration solely in the kiss.

Smiling against the human's lips, Legolas broke the contact, lifting his head so that they could both draw the much needed air. Looking down, he saw Aragorn laying in his arms, his eyes closed and a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Moving his hand to Aragorn's side to pull the human further into his grasp, his arm brushed against the man's still chest.

Freezing in horror, Legolas pressed his hand over the man's heart, telling himself that he was imagining things, and yet, after a few minutes and a haunting stillness where there should have been a rhythmic pumping, Legolas knew that he was not. Sucking in shallow breaths, each time feeling as if not enough air had reached his starving lungs, Legolas frantically started to shake the human, praying to wake him up like he had done before.

Gimli, who had quickly tired of his strenuous work and had eventually taken a seat, his wound reopened and bleeding freely down his side, looked up from the floor that he had been staring at, not wanting it intrude on the Elf and man.

As soon as he saw Legolas' face and the limp body of Aragorn, he knew. Wanting to move to the Elf's side to console him, Gimli battled with his own disbelief that had surfaced, freezing him to the spot and making all forms of movement impossible. Being forced to only sit there, he looked on as the Elf fretted, silver tears running down his face which matched Gimli's own.

"No," Legolas whispered, the word no more that an exhale of breath. Aragorn could not be dead, not like that, not so uneventful. Seldom had he seen death in human's, or even his people for that matter, and yet he felt as if there should be more, that the man could not have passed in such a way - so quietly, so unseen.

Feeling the strange sensation of tears forming in his eyes, he could not even attempt to try and hold them back, to act strongly as his friend, companion and would be lover lay dead in his arms, his face reflecting pure bliss.

Rocking back and forth, the human clasped tightly to his chest, Legolas let his tears fall onto the man's face, his hiccupping breaths shake the body that he gripped and his good hand clench the fabric of the man's tunic between his fingers.

He could not imagine life without the man, even before his confession, he could not think of going through the world without him as a friend. It seemed impossible, impossible that the king of men could die, that he could slip from the world without even the one that held him knowing. He hated himself, for not noticing, for causing the man to get distracted and even for kissing him. If he had not, there was a chance that the man would still be alive, that he would still be fighting the black robed figure that called his name into the dark night.

All hope was now truly lost, never would the lands of Men rise above the dark powers without their king to lead them, never would the Elves stay on these shores without that all important tie between the two races of Middle- earth. Aragorn was their hope, his Elven name even spoke of it; Estel.

As if Fate had seen fit to prove her point, the sound of a battering ram hitting against the door filled the room. The already flickering light from the fires burning outside danced even more as the planks of the door shook under the pressure and stress that it was withstanding, while dust and dirt fell from the wood in clouds at every beat. The boxes that Gimli had piled up where getting steadily pushed back along the floor, each hit aiding in the rebounding of the barricade.

Turning red rimmed eyes to his wounded friend, Legolas saw in Gimli's eyes that he too saw no way out of this. Looking to his quiver which the dwarf must have brought up for him, the gaping darkness of the container seemed to mock them, telling them of their demise and the fact that they were doomed. Only having one of his daggers, Legolas knew that he was in no condition to fight just as Gimli was now unable to stand.

As the pounding upon the door increased, Legolas pulled Aragorn's body to him closer and turned his gaze to Gimli once again. Even as the doors flew open and the flames from outside highlighted the shapes of the Orcs in the entrance, the friends did not look up. Not even when the sound of heavy footsteps falling upon the wooden floor came towards them; or when the sounds became a cacophony and the smells became suffocating.

They held each others gaze just as Legolas gripped the man that he loved to his chest, even when Legolas felt two hands gripping at either side of his head. Making the effort to smile at the only dwarf that he would ever call his friend and pulling the lost hope of men further into his arms, Legolas' world was plunged into darkness with a mere flick of a beast's wrists, his head falling limply down to rest against that of Aragorn.


Can you feel me?

Slipping slowly from your reach.

You hear me?

When I have lost the will to speak.

I'll see you,

I'll see you as you slowly fade away. . .

'Crash Palace.'


The End.


*Runs off and changes her name, address, phone number and moves country.* Hope you liked, and please review. *hides behind Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan muse's - either using them as body guards or human shields - is not really sure herself!*

A very big thank you to all of you have been with me from the beginning of this story, or even more, from the beginning of when I first started to attempt writing!

Please don't kill me too much, I mean, it was too good an idea to pass up on!


"We are all just prisoners here, of our own device."