A/N: This idea came some time ago, and I found it in my archives recently. I don't know if I should continue this idea or not. It's got potential, but… I don't know if anyone would read it. So, if you'd like to review, I'd greatly appreciate it. This was made after I saw the movies. Feel free to correct me nicely if I botch something (I'm still not as into the whole history here as I'd like to be, and I don't trust wikipedia for this stuff).

Um… yaoi? If I get enough steam for it, I'll write more. Kinda in a confidence low at the moment.

So, thanks for reading in advance. I hope you enjoy it, but I will ignore flames if they come.

I don't own Lord of the Rings and make no money off this.


Aragorn was injured. He was laying face down on the ground in front of the most dangerous thing to ever live- the Dark King Sauron.

Legolas didn't have time to think. He needed to act now! He had to save him! He couldn't lose another friend to this Valar forsaken war!

"Wait!" Legolas screamed as he held up his hand to the Dark King, getting his attention. He wasn't one for taking such risky behaviors in the light of battle, but this was a special case. He had lost his mother, cousins, friends, and former lovers to this war, and it was slowly crushing him beneath the weight of his thoughts every night. Sleep wasn't cooperating, and his health had started to decline.

"I'll… I'll make a deal with you…" Legolas yelled as he ran to the dark king. Sauron stilled his blade as he glanced at the beautiful elf approaching them. All of the orcs stopped their cheering in the Dark King's direction to see who was foolish enough to try to stop the man they hailed as king.

"What kind of deal?" Sauron asked as he gave the elf a third look over under his helmet. Legolas caught his breath quickly to answer.

"My life in exchange for his." He said bluntly. Sauron cocked an eye at him under the helmet, but none could see it from where it was positioned.

"And why would you do that?" The dark king asked. Legolas steeled himself to the dark elf's gaze.

"I have my…reasons." Legolas said as he stood in front of the men, knowing well that he could have been killed at any moment.

"Reasons?" Sauron asked, a slight mock in his voice as he spoke. Oh, this elf would be his. Either his head mounted on his wall or his obedience.

"Yes" Legolas replied curtly, not wanting to allow too much to slip his lips.

"That… may be acceptable… but it depends." Sauron spoke again. He might get a better deal out of this than a half brain dead orc filling his court.

"Depends on what?" Legolas demanded. He couldn't let this monster kill his beloved friend.

"Your title. I can see you are from the elves, but what is your title, oh pure one?" Sauron growled sarcastically. Legolas got the feeling that he already knew, but wanted confirmation for the sake of a bargaining chip.

"How do you know-" Legolas began.

"I can smell your purity from here… it is… intoxicating. And even among elves, such perfect skin is reserved for the royal houses." Sauron cut him off. Barring his mind from allowing him to shun this beast for his rude behavior, he pressed forward with his words.

"I… I am known as Legolas Greenleaf. Prince of Mirkwood and son of Thranduil." Legolas said, never breaking eye contact with the dark king.

"Ah… you are of the royal house of Mirkwood?" Sauron spoke. There was a slight odd inflection on the end of his words that confused the prince, but he shrugged it off. His brothers use to do that to try to force his overly thinking mind to tax itself on their words.

"Ay..." Legolas said.

"A deal it is. His life…" Sauron said as he held out his hand to Legolas "For yours…"

Legolas felt a sickening feeling rising in his throat. It filled his chest and forced him to clench his bow tightly in his hand. He carefully approached the dark armored king and allowed himself a few feet of distance in case the king tried something insane.

"And what will you do with Aragorn?" Legolas asked as he set his sight into the coal dark eyes of the king. Sauron smiled at him for a moment before replying.

"If it suits you, we will take him to the forest edge where the battles are being fought and leave him to your human allies." Sauron said as he glanced back at the unconscious human who was still bleeding from the minor cuts on his head where the handle of the sword had hit him.

"Ay… I will trust you to your word… as a king of Middle-Earth." Legolas spoke as he allowed himself to be drawn towards the king and pulled close to his larger form. Sauron was an intimidating man by all means, and even with Legolas's unusual height (against the average man), the dark king still dwarfed him by a good five inches.

"Gather Legolas's horse and belongings. Then come to Tower of Barad-dûr ." Sauron said as he lifted Legolas onto the strong stallion he'd brought to the battle. Legolas couldn't even approach the thing without it snapping at him, so Sauron had to place the warrior onto the beast's saddle before mounting himself. Legolas feared the strangely large beast would bite him should he even try to touch its glistening mane, so he carefully folded his bow into its place on his shoulder and allowed Sauron to hold him to the beast. Legolas had dealt with horses in the past, but this one was different. Its eye blazed red in color, and its teeth could be seen as…sharp, fang like in nature. The sheer power of this monster was a force to be reckoned with, and could be felt in the movements it cast against the ground as they started for Mordor.

Legolas felt as though he'd just sold his life from any shred of happiness. He'd given up everything for his love… even though it was an unrequited and unknown love. It was Legolas's love. It was something that belonged to him and him alone. Sauron would probably kill him as a show of power to the realm. Sadly, in his own mind, Legolas slowly made peace with this fact. What did he really have left to live for? The one he loved would never return his love, and would be bound to the loveliest of all humans, while Legolas would be martyred in front on the entire Orc army. To some degree, this would be a thankful release from this world… but… Legolas couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. There were so many things he would do if he had the time. So many places he'd venture to with only his bow and his faithful horse. So many landscapes to admire and beautiful rivers he'd swim in. So many skies he'd dream of flying in… if only to escape the ideas that he was unwanted. The land wanted him. The land always wanted him. The forest had always greeted him with songs of peace, and the rivers had always offered a gracing hand to the young prince when his heart was hurting from another scorning.

He'd fought long and hard to gain the respect of the elves of Mirkwood, but as the last Prince to be born, he was met with resistance and glares. No one knew where he'd come from, only that he was the king's son. Few would say it to his face, but those whispers behind his back ate away at him over time. After years of trying to cope with it, he found his peace in the trees in their talk, the rivers in their songs, and the sky in its breath. Most other elves wouldn't be able to hear such things, but that was the benefit of the royal household. And while his elder brothers wouldn't care much for him, he would enjoy the beauty of his own world with his best friend- the stallion he rode into battle each time he fought. He would never voice how much pleasure battle gave him, but it allowed him to take out his frustrations on an opponent. He would lose to his brothers, and gain even less favor with his father because of it, but it was something. It was something that was his for a time…

But all that didn't matter now. He was headed for his death, and he doubted it would be a war crime well received. He doubted the elves would even react. He doubted the King of Mirkwood would even glance at whatever hole they threw his corpse into after he was buried, assuming he was even there. In fact, the Fellowship might be the only ones who attended his burial. After all, they were his first encounter with decent people. He had been so outcasted by his own people, meeting the ranger and the dwarf was his first interaction with someone who wouldn't have been happier to see him beheaded.

Hence… why he'd fallen in love. He fell hard too. He'd never felt such a wonderful feeling like this… which is why he clung to it so hard. He couldn't let this go. He needed to feel wanted…loved…something- just once in his life. He'd already written off his existence and accidental, and that he wasn't to be accepted or loved by any of his own people. So he needed this so badly. He had watched others go about in their own ways, living as they saw fit; and he been jealous of those very people.

They were allowed to live in happiness- why was he not?

What crime had he committed by being born that he wasn't allowed to grace the halls of favor or acceptance?

"We are nearly there." Sauron's voice broke Legolas's dark musings. He could see the large tower in the distance, clearly surrounded by a number of small houses, almost like a small town. The tower itself had a good area of trees around it, but Legolas could only see the tops of them from this far away. He noted they had a waterfall, so a river must have been close by.

'Perhaps this won't be such an awful condemnation… at least I get to talk to the trees once more…' Legolas thought to himself. He couldn't believe that his end would have come like this… selflessly sold off as war fodder.

As they flew through the settlement, Sauron pushed the horse through the gates of the Dark Tower and stopped at the grand doorway. He carefully dismounted, and then reached for Legolas's hand to help him down. Legolas, not to be rude, took the offered hand and allowed himself to be taken down from the stallion, who was starting to fidget.

Sauron seized Legolas by the arm and dragged him into the dark tower, leaving the light of the sun glistened realm outside. The tower was magnificent. Large piers soared up to beautifully carve obsidian capitals and groin vaulting. Battles and treaties were painted on the blank areas between the vaulting, and the walls were decorated with great murals. Legolas hadn't seen such beautiful paintings since his stay in Mirkwood's finest relic hall, back when he'd been hiding from his brothers who sought to throw him into the river at that moment. Legolas had began to hate his brothers shortly before that day, but at this point in time, all that seemed to be completely irrelevant. He'd die before he'd ever have to take another shred of torture from those bastards again.

Sauron dragged the elf up a set of stairs, with more decorated walls and ceilings leading up to each level they passed. Legolas could see each level they passed, and felt like they were going up much higher than the dungeons or alters went. Where the hell was Sauron taking him?

"Where are we going?"Legolas asked as he was dragged even further up the tower's stairs until they reached the top floor. Sauron pulled the younger being into a large, ornately decorated bedroom. Legolas had never seen such a beautiful place, and certainly not expected to be killed in one.

"You will stay here until I say otherwise." Sauron spoke as he turned to leave the wide eyed Legolas to stare at the room. Legolas turned to the man. None of this made sense. Sauron was suppose to kill him! Not throw him into a beautiful room atop some tower like a prized princess! He was a warrior for Valar-sake! He was supposed to fight and die a noble death in the throw of battle! Surrendering himself to Sauron was bad enough, but having to await his most un-noble fate while the rest of his companions were run through like a pig before supper was just too much.

"Why? Aren't you going to take my life?" Legolas asked bluntly, a small stutter appearing on the end of his words. Sauron chuckled a little as he reached to door. He turned his head back to the elf.

"You agreed to your life for the human's. I never declared what I would do with your life when I had it." Sauron said as he started to leave.

"But, what good am I to you alive?" Legolas asked again quickly. Sauron turned back to him again, apparently in a hurry. There was still a war to fight, and battles rarely waited for one to join them.

"You are of the royal household. You will prove useful in time." Sauron growled at the young elf, making Legolas jump a little in unexpected forcefulness of the dark one's voice. It reminded him of a cat's growl, but was more… seductive. Legolas felt the bile rise to his throat as he clenched his quiver's strap. It brought him little comfort where it normally would, but he supposed he deserved some comfort while in this borderline barren place. With few trees to speak to and only one river to hear, this place felt mediocre against Mirkwood's wide forest.

Legolas pulled himself away from the door a little, if only to gain a foot more of distance should the evil king try anything.

"I hope the room is to your liking… you won't be leaving this tower for some time." Sauron said as he closed the door. Legolas heard it lock and felt a wave of either exhaustion, despair, or a little of both, wash over him.

He collapsed onto the bed and unbuckled the quiver of arrows from his back, tossing it to the side with his bow as he curled up in his new arrangements. He knew he should be grateful on some level, after all, he was allowed to live. He just couldn't bear the weight on his heart at this moment. Aragorn still lived on bought time. Time purchased at Legolas's cost. Chances were, even with such a good deed at this, no one would ever know about it. He would be forgotten by his friends and seen as a traitor at best among his brethren at Mirkwood.

Disgraceful.

Disgusting.

Dishonorable.

…and it seemed like everyone who'd ever hated him was finally getting their wish. Legolas, the strange elf prince, was going to be forced to be Sauron's associate, and most likely be killed afterwards. If not, he'd probably take his own life due to the shame of being forced to bow to an unworthy king. He doubted anyone from any of the three kinds would see him as anything short of a traitor. As usual, they would probably turn a deaf ear to his tale if he tried to explain it.

He curled into himself after sliding under the covers of the large canopied bed, and then gently reached out to pull a tie that held the coverings around the bed. He didn't want to see the light right now, and sleep would be best when he was this troubled.

Aragorn awoke to the sensation of blinding pain sprouting from his head. He could tell that he was on some sort of bedroll as he reached up to place his heavy hand on his scalp. His head rang like a choir of bells, reminding him of the time he'd tried to tame a stallion in his youthful childhood. Elrond had a ball laughing at him when Arwen dragged him into the elder elf's study; bruised, bleeding, and babbling like a buffoon.

"Ay! You're finally awake!" The familiar voice of Gimli came to his ears, causing his head to hurt even more. He knew the dwarf meant well, but every blasted sound hurt his ears. He could hear the pounding of metal in the sword smith's workshops and the neighing of horses being tended to, which was odd for him since he rarely would hear anything like that over the wind speaking it's solemn songs and the grasses whispering to one another. Nature was one of the few things he enjoyed listening to, even if it was just to ease his mind. He couldn't understand it like the elves did, but he could recognize the signs they gave and attempted to fill in the rest with what few occurrences he knew of. Like when the wind howled loudly at night, a storm would come the next day for a short time; but if it howled low at morning, it would last all day. Elrond had been very kind to him in his younger years, teaching him of how nature worked as best he could. When he came of age, Elrond seemed to think he was a threat to Arwen's chastity, and began to push him out of the adopted nest. Perhaps as a nod to nostalgia, the elf would give him quick lessons in the ways of the world when his travels brought him close to Rivendell.

He slowly allowed himself to be pushed into a sitting position as kind hands of hobbits and a certain dwarf eased him upwards. He pried his stinging eyes open to see each of the four hobbits and Gimli surrounding him, while Gandalf nursed a pipe in the corner of the room, and Faramir was beside him, glancing at the injured ranger with a look of borderline pity. The hobbits continued their chatter and Gimli gave a gruff laugh, while Gandalf and Faramir smiled in his direction. All were happy to see him and spoke to him so quickly that his still weary brain could not keep up.

"Where is Legolas?" Aragorn asked, unexpected of his own tongue as the words slipped from his mouth. All of the mirthful chattering ceased in a heartbeat. Dire looks cast themselves over the young hobbits, and Gandalf looked as though someone had just told him that his best friend had died. Aragorn tried to get out of bed, but Gandalf's hand stopped him as it rose from its stagnant place on his lap.

"Our beloved Legolas… has been taken by the Dark King Sauron." Gandalf spoke slowly. Aragorn could have sworn he felt his heart stop with those words. He looked around, and then to his lap. This couldn't be true. Legolas was too strong for the evil king to take. He couldn't be… no. He wouldn't think that way yet.

"How… How has he been taken?" Aragorn asked carefully. He feared for his friend's life.

"When Sauron had you at his feet, unconscious and bleeding badly, Legolas stopped him from killing you in exchange for his own life." Gandalf said as he blew out another puff of smoke thoughtfully. The hobbits wouldn't meet Aragorn's eyes, and Gimli looked as if he were on the brink of tears (though he'd never admit to it. Dwarves never cry for such things.). Aragorn rolled his feet of the bedroll, trying to ease himself into a sitting position.

"And… is that all we know so far?" He asked, fearing that the beautiful elf would indeed be dead. He couldn't… wouldn't accept that. Legolas was a kind soul, and a good man. Aragorn had always felt blessed to be in his presence, since beauty on so many levels was extremely rare and usually forged in a life of exile and isolation from all that would corrupt them.

Aragorn knew he was not worthy to be in love with such a being, and forced himself to look for the silver cup in the competition- the Lady Arwen. She was a second, but not a close second. So many things were missing to make him fall in love with her as he did with Legolas. She lacked the astuteness, the speed in battle, the beauty in combat, and the humbleness that made everything complete. He was going to be in a miserable marriage to her, and live a miserable life in longing for Legolas most likely. He had made what little peace he would with that feeling, and tried to move forward… but…something was holding him back. Like a forgotten tie on a large shipping boat, it held him to this port and wouldn't allow him the peace in leaving.

"We have not heard anything since. Good or bad. We can only assume they are holding him for now." Gandalf spoke flatly.

"When do we leave?" Aragorn demanded, sharp eyes glaring at his elder.

"Leave? Leave for what?" Gandalf said as he released his pipe and looked at the young ranger soon to be king.

"Leave to rescue him?" Aragorn roared, making the hobbits tremble at the might in his voice. Aragorn was always very respectful of his elders, but this was the love of his life. Even if he couldn't have this crown, he would protect it with his last breath.

"…We don't, Aragorn." Gandalf said as he placed his pipe back in his mouth. Aragorn's mouth hung open for a moment in shock, and then he turned around and left the room in a huff.

Fine. If no one would help him, he'd save Legolas himself.

"Aragorn! Wait!" Gimli's voice came from behind him. Aragorn shot his head in the direction of the voice, smiling when he saw the dwarf was coming towards him, panting heavily.

"Gimli? What are you doing?" Aragorn asked, mostly to confirm his suspicions. Gimli took one breathless look at him and smirked.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm going with you to save the elf!" Gimli announced happily. Aragorn embraced the man as a friend, holding him roughly and releasing quickly. They made their way towards the stables. They intended to pack quickly.

Gandalf took about ten small minutes of thinking before realizing that they couldn't leave Legolas to such a fate. He threw himself off the chair he'd been sitting on and made his way towards the stables after instructing the hobbits to stay within the Gondor walls. He needed someone to help Faramir watch over the great city while he was still in his dressings after the battle. An orc's blade had severed his tricep, and the medics barely knew how to reattach it. The injury left him useless for battle.

He found the pair throwing their tack together sloppily, rushing to get a move of things. Gimli had found himself a rather nice donkey that could run with any horse, and said beast was trying to eat a carrot as Gimli threw the saddle onto its back. Both of the men glared at the white wizard as he approached.

"Those horses will only help you so far. If you want to get Legolas back, you must allow me to help you." The elder said.

"What help do we need from someone who won't help." Gimli seethed. Legolas was as much his friend as anyone else in the fellowship, and declaring that they should give up before even starting rescuing him really ate at his nerves. He would never leave a friend to die at Sauron's hands. It was against his code.

"I'm helping now, Gimli. I just needed to think of a decent way to get in and out of that wretched tower without drawing too much attention or giving them enough time to mount an attack." Gandalf said as he shoved a piece of bread into the dwarf's mouth.

"Ay… that… makes sense… I suppose." Aragorn conceded. He wasn't too fond of the wizard when he declared that the elf was going to be left as that monster's plaything. But perhaps this was a chance at redemption. Aragorn knew he wasn't one for thinking things threw too much, and on occasion, it had landed him in the arms of a simpering female elf… not that he wasn't dreaming of another elf holding him at said time. No… no…he… he wasn't.

Wasn't at all.

"If I speak to the eagles, they will help us get in and out faster than the horses could. They can fly where horses can only run so fast." Gandalf spoke. Aragorn thought over the proposition for a few minutes, and smirked in Gandalf's direction.

"Ay… to the eagles it is then."


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