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"Gimli, where is he?" Aragorn asked with concern in his eyes.

"He was here," Gimli shielded his eyes, trying to seek out where he had last seen his elven friend. "But I have no idea where he went after that – nor of his condition."

"I will kill that elf," Aragorn swore and followed the faint tracks on the ground, knowing that calling for the elf would do no good. "Follow me, Gimli, and hope we will find him before it is too late."

"I just hope that it will not already be too late," Gimli muttered and followed the man.

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The increasingly clear trail of blood told Aragorn that Legolas had been staggering, then crawling, and was now in desperate need for help.

"How much stupider could this elf be?" Aragorn grunted as he continued down the path with Gimli.

But suddenly they stopped. An entangled mess of golden hair showed where Legolas lay, on his stomach. They approached cautiously. His face was far too pale and they feared the worst.

Gimli stepped on a branch and Legolas stirred at that crack. He had sensed their presence but the pain-induced weakness was too overwhelming. "Oh… it is you," he mumbled.

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"What do you mean?" Gimli knelt beside his friend, not liking Legolas’s tone. He had sounded almost disappointed to see them. "We are friends, Legolas, and you have to rely on us sometimes so we can help you."

"Gimli, he didn’t hear you," Aragorn informed him as he noticed how there was no movement from their wounded friend. "He is resting now. Let us get him on his back so I can patch him up."

"Aye, it will be a good time to do so when he is not fussing around about it," Gimli agreed with a somewhat frustrated grunt.

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Aragorn began cleaning Legolas's wound and noticed that something was amiss.

The elf had been stabbed with an orc's sword, but why was his blood so dark? Was the sword poisoned or was the wound graver than he had thought?

The man seemed so disturbed that Gimli asked at once, "What's wrong?"

"He should not be bleeding like this," Aragorn mumbled, adding in a worried tone, "It's possible that he may be bleeding internally."

"But what are you going to do? Is he going to be alright?" Gimli's concern was obvious.

"I am going to have to operate on him."

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"Operate? Here?" Gimli asked incredulously.

Aragorn nodded. "I cannot let him die. If we do nothing, we might lose him."

"How can I help?" Gimli asked, pulling his axe closer and looking around for any sign of danger.

"Take that," Aragorn pointed toward his herbs. "Put it close to Legolas's nose. That'll keep him drowsy in case he wakes up midway."

Gimli felt a little clumsy but he did as he was told. He watched as the healer did his work with such great care and, at the same time, fear: he could see how the man's hands were trembling.

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"Are you alright?" Gimli asked his friend, noticing how his hands shook with hesitation as he prepared the knife on the elf's skin.

"I will be, once we finish with this," Aragorn replied, fully concentrating on his work. This was no time to be thinking about himself.

"Take your time, do it with confidence, and I'll take care of that elf when he wakes up." Gimli spoke gruffly, hoping to calm his friend while he watched the elf's blood licking its way around the fresh cut.

"Thank you, my friend," Aragorn's lips parted in a hint of a relieved smile.

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"How did he get injured?" Aragorn asked while he bandaged the incision. Legolas lay on the ground, his skin pale as a gleam of moonlight. He looked too much like a doll – a frozen one.

"It happened in seconds. I saw him shooting double arrows at the orcs that were behind me. And…I suppose he was too busy saving my life to think of his own," Gimli replied heavily.

"Legolas is never going to change, is he?" Aragorn asked with a smile.

"Let me know if he does…" Gimli grinned. "Was he always like that when you first met him?"

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"Do you mean…reckless?" Aragorn couldn't resist adding, even as he kept an eye on Legolas's progress.

"Aye," Gimli replied, sighing heavily before continuing, "What does his father have to say about him?"

"Thranduil? He might appear powerful, but he would not hurt anyone without cause," Aragorn replied, shifting himself to a more comfortable spot on the ground. "He loves his son dearly, and I suppose, to him, Legolas is all that he has."

"Was he angry with Legolas, with his attitude?" Gimli asked curiously.

"Why should he not be?" Aragorn answered with a nostalgic smile. Those were interesting times indeed.

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Legolas stirred and Aragorn was immediately back at his side.

"Legolas?" he asked gently.

The elf turned toward the voice, but he could not open his eyes. The sun was far too bright.

"Legolas, mellon-nin, are you alright?" Gimli nudged the elf from the side.

"Don't talk yet, your body is still weak," Aragorn advised. "Rest, my friend, you're going to be alright."

Legolas tried to focus his gaze on his friends, but the sun was in his way again.

"Legolas, my friend, when you're well, Gimli and I are going to have a long conversation with you," Aragorn teased.

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Gimli grinned at Aragorn, knowing what he meant. Truly he agreed with him: even though Legolas was immortal, he could still be overcome by death.

"Legolas, we aren't kidding, you know," Gimli caught the elf's attention and added emphatically, "You are our friend."

"Rest, my friend, you will need the strength to face both your father and Lord Elrond," Aragorn suggested, giving him a reassuring pat. Legolas had to know that he was not alone.

The only answer he got was a weak glare and Aragorn smiled, shaking his head.

Legolas was going to be all right… or was he?

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Legolas was more stubborn than any mule. He should be getting more rest instead of trying to steal out of the room.

Aragorn glared at his friend while Gimli remained on watch.

"Legolas, mellon-nin," Aragorn caught the elf's attention. "You need to rest: you've lost too much blood."

"I cannot," Legolas told the man, shifting away from him, "It's calling for me."

"What's calling for you?" Aragorn asked him, his eyes begging Legolas to rest.

"The sea… can you not hear it?" Legolas replied, his voice distant. His eyes, his blue eyes, were dancing to the music of the waves.

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"No, I hear nothing," Aragorn replied. He was growing more concerned about his friend by the minute.

"Are you certain?" Legolas asked him weakly. "Do you feel nothing?"

"There's nothing, Legolas," Aragorn replied, moving closer to his friend. "But how do you feel, Legolas?"

"I am feeling fine," Legolas shot back, though averting his gaze.

"Don't you know how many times I've heard you say that?" Aragorn asked the elf with a grin.

"Ten times, at most," The elf retorted, still not looking toward Aragorn.

"Certainly not!" Aragorn disagreed.

"Well, I am fine!" Legolas tried to insist.

"Famous last words."

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"Gimli," Aragorn called urgently, catching the dwarf's attention at once. "There is something wrong with Legolas."

Gimli sighed heavily. That much was obvious from the desperate way Legolas was trying to get away. Even the elf's gaze seemed to avoid them; if anything, his usually clear eyes seemed glazed over. He was certainly not with them.

"Where is he?" Gimli asked, trying to catch the elf's eyes.

"He's here," Aragorn replied cautious, not sure what the dwarf was getting at. The elf was standing right before them, after all.

Gimli shook his head stubbornly. "Look in his eyes!" He pointed.

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It was now Aragorn's turn to sigh. They were in yet another mess that Legolas had created, and this time, Lord Elrond was not with them to put things right. Even after these years, Aragorn longed for the wise elf's advice.

"How can we help him?" Gimli asked, trying to still the struggling Legolas.

"Perhaps by tying him to a tree…" Aragorn replied. Surprisingly enough, he found it within him to grin at the dwarf.

Gimli stared at the man almost in shock. "Are you certain?"

"I am," Aragorn affirmed, muttering, "I just hope he would not take it badly."

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Legolas was bound securely bound to the tree, his wound freshly clean and bandaged.

Neither Aragorn nor Gimli particularly liked this but Legolas' wound was not healing as fast as they would have liked; anything was worth risking if it would help the elf.

"Why are you doing this?" Legolas asked, his gaze still searching in the distance.

"It's for your own good, mellon-nin," Aragorn replied, a hint of worry showing through his light voice.

"Tying me to a tree?" Legolas asked in incredulous incomprehension.

"Aye, I believe it will be for the best." Gimli stood behind the man's decision.

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"You will pay for this!"

"It has only been a while. Just relax and listen to the birds," Aragorn suggested to the elf.

"Let me go," Legolas’ tone was pleading. "I hear the Sea calling."

"The sea is not calling you, my friend," Gimli told the stubborn elf. "You’re just hallucinating."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"No!" Legolas protested frustratedly.

"Yes, you are, even Aragorn thinks so." Gimli wanted only to end this.

"Aragorn is a fool," Legolas mumbled.

"Did you just call me a fool?" Aragorn asked.

"I did." Legolas shot back defiantly, looking him in the eye

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"So," Gimli called the man, "What should we do with this stubborn elf?"

"I'm not stubborn," Legolas insisted.

"Noted," Gimli retorted.

Legolas could have rolled his eyes but that would have been pointless. "And you are a fool, Aragorn," Legolas added. He was tired of being ignored. His gaze settled in the distance and he hummed a soft tune.

"Legolas, if you dare call me a fool again, I shall…" Aragorn threatened his friend, but stopped abruptly mid-sentence.

"You shall what?" Legolas stopped humming and turned to his friend.

But Aragorn only frowned. There had been a strange, disturbing noise.

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"I shall…" Aragorn began anew, his thoughts still on the noise. Where had it come from?

Legolas continued to hum, smiling at how the colors of the sky were in a symphonious swirl, directed by the red setting sun. The sunset never ceased to inspire him with its remarkable beauty, even as his lips sang of the sea.

"Legolas, stop singing," Aragorn was on the verge of pleading.

"Why should I?" Legolas was enjoying this too much.

"Because I'm having a headache and you're not helping!" Aragorn replied tersely, wiping his forehead.

At that, Gimli snored, much to Aragorn's chagrin.

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"Isn't that my cue to keep singing?" Legolas grinned, nodding toward the snoring dwarf, "I'm duty-bound to make your life miserable for tying me to a tree."

Aragorn stared at the black sky, wondering why he had to suffer thus.

Legolas continued his song while watching his longtime friend. He paused a moment to ask, "What number did you reach?"

"Nearly forty nine… how did you know?" Aragorn shot him a suspicious glare.

"I know you better than you think, mellon-nin." Legolas replied.

"No, you don't." How did this elf manage to anger him even when tied to a tree?

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"Shut up!" Gimli shouted.

"I hope I did not wake you…" Legolas grinned.

"Either way, you're not the only one," Gimli glared at the man, clearly grouchy from being awoken by their racket.

"Legolas, start acting like a prince instead of an elfling, and you," Gimli spun toward Aragorn, suddenly at a lost for something to accuse the man of, "And you, heal him, because I'm sick of waiting for my death in this forsaken land."

Aragorn sighed heavily and grabbed his knife to untie Legolas.

"Are you going to behave, or should I let Gimli on you?" Aragorn asked

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On account of Gimli's loathing of these forests, they had no choice but to get moving – though the dwarf should have known better: as long as Legolas was around, trouble could be anywhere.

The elf moved stiffly, an awkward leg after another. Aragorn tried to help him but Legolas brushed him away with a threatening glare.

"Legolas," Gimli's voice held a warning tone, but Legolas was clearly ignoring him. "Prince Legolas…" he tried again.

The elf seemed to hear but there was nothing much he could do. He stumbled, tried to lean on a nearby tree for support, but missed.

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Aragorn reached out to catch Legolas before he collapsed onto the ground, ducking just in time as an arrow hit the tree-trunk.

"We are under attack. Yet again." Gimli scrambled for cover, obviously not too happy about it.

"It's probably Legolas fault," Aragorn shot back in defence.

"How is that my fault?" Legolas spun around to face his friends, "I am the one currently under attack – not you!"

"You attract trouble, you know that," Aragorn teased while they searched for the archers. There seemed to be no clear pattern to the shooting.

"What a lie," Legolas still managed to mutter.

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"Well, it's true enough for me. I'm the one patching you up whenever you get hurt," Aragorn teased his friend, even as he heard another arrow whistle by, this time much closer to him. He shifted himself. Time to speak softer.

"Me? You have to patch me up?" Legolas' incredulity was evident even in his soft voice.

"Why do I deserve this?" Gimli grunted, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His friends could actually tease each other even with such a torrent of arrows coming at them. And he had a bad feeling that this was not the first time.

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"You both had better be stopping that," Gimli advised his friends but it clearly fell on deaf ears.

Sighing, Gimli dodged his way across, dashing over during a brief pause in the shooting and reaching Aragorn just in time to tackle him to the ground.

"Gimli, why did you do that?" Aragorn tried to scramble from under the dwarf.

"Can't you see or feel that arrow? It almost got you there…" Gimli touched Aragorn's chest, a horrified expression on his face.

"I will try not to make the same mistake," Aragorn nodded.

Still, they had another problem: getting Legolas safe.

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The need to bring Legolas to safety was more pressing than ever as yet another arrow narrowly scraped past him. Their pursuers seemed far too insistent and worse, they were getting more accurate. And Legolas did not seem too bothered.

"Legolas," Gimli called, "Have you got a death wish?"

"No, but you, on the other hand, seem to have one!" Legolas shot back, crawling behind another bush for cover.

"You should not say that, my friend," Aragorn cut in, and then he asked Legolas somewhat worriedly, "Are you hit?"

"Not yet. Why?" Legolas asked, not knowing where this leading to.

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"Well, do you want to get hit?" Gimli asked.

"Of course not!" Legolas shot back.

"Then you should come over," Gimli tried to reason.

"Why should I? I am safe where I am," Legolas reminded him.

"No, you are not, my friend, you'd be right in the crossfire," Aragorn pointed out.

Legolas glanced at his friends and suddenly burst into a soft laugh. "Where are your arrows, Aragorn?" he asked.

"What is so funny?" Aragorn frowned, not understanding what was so amusing to the elf.

"Tell me Aragorn : have you lost your bow and arrows again?" Legolas taunted him.

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"Again?" Gimli asked, then noticing Aragorn's warning glare, he moderated his curious tone. "Has it happened before?"

"Do not encourage him, Gimli," Aragorn was clearly not amused.

"I am not," Gimli stood his ground, but he glanced toward where Legolas was. "How did he lose them, Legolas?"

"Gimli, no!" Aragorn warned him, only to hear Legolas' laughter.

"And it's not funny," Aragorn reminded the elf pointedly.

"My lips are sealed, Master Dwarf," Legolas replied cryptically, and turning toward his friend, he continued, "Now Aragorn, could you make yourself useful so I can shoot without opening your work on my body?"

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"You should not even try, at least not in your condition," Aragorn gestured at him.

"Why not?" Legolas asked. He did wish to help them after all.

"Because, as far as I can see, you are starting to bleed again," Aragorn stated.

Legolas frowned. "Is that so? I do not feel any pain."

"Can you not smell the blood?" Gimli asked him.

"This is the reason why they are after us. They smell your blood," Aragorn told him.

"No," Legolas tried to argue.

"Yes," Aragorn glared at him and then he added, "It is not us they are shooting at."

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"You aren't winning this, Legolas," Gimli grinned at him.

"They can also smell fear," Legolas tried to retort. But he had to admit that he was indeed weaker. His voice had trembled.

Gimli and Aragorn exchanged looks, and with concern in his voice, Gimli asked, "Legolas, are you feeling alright?"

"I am fine," Legolas replied. How had this happened so quickly? That numbing weakness was spreading through his body. Now he could smell the blood and he knew that the stitches had been opened.

"No, you are not," Aragorn sighed but Legolas never heard him.

The elf had fallen unconscious.

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"Why is he not responding?" Gimli asked, concerned at the sight of the far too still elf.

"My guess is that his body finally gave in, and from the looks of it, he's ruined my stitches. Not for the first time." Aragorn sighed heavily and muttered, "I'm going to kill that elf."

"You'd have to do it fast," Gimli gave him a wry smile and nodded toward the creatures raining arrows on them, or more precisely, on Legolas. Why was Legolas always the center of attention?

Aragorn gave him an exasperated expression. "And how do you suggest we attack them?"

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"What do you mean by that?" Gimli asked suspiciously.

"I lost my bow and arrows when I released him from the tree," Aragorn replied. "And I had completely forgotten about them until this elf reminded me."

"Then it was the elf's fault. What's new?" Gimli teased him. What a ranger this man– Gimli quickly ducked as an arrow homed in on him.

"They are firing at us now, thinking that the elf is dead."

"You think so?" Gimli stared at the man with a deep frown.

"I don't know for sure but for his sake, I hope he plays dead."

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"What now?" Gimli asked.

Aragorn paused for a brief moment. "Go at them with your axe. If Legolas kept his bow from breaking, I'll take it and cover you," he suggested.

"Could he possibly break his bow?" Gimli asked skeptically.

Aragorn chuckled. "With him, anything is possible."

"That I do believe", Gimli mused and glanced at the creatures beginning to advance towards them. "Though apart from getting hurt, he's a great friend to have."

"I should tell him that as well," Aragorn smiled. "And thank you, Gimli. You too are a great friend to have and keep by one's side."