The next say they passed by a cave. A big cave, wide and dark. They could hear the screeching of bats inside. Legolas gripped the reigns tighter, which made his horse unsettled. He didn't even know Aragorn had seen, until the soft voice almost made him heart stop.

"Are you alright?"

He looked over at Aragorn, and met his concerned gaze with a smile. "I just remembered, that's all."

Aragorn nodded, looking at Legolas with sympathy. Normally Legolas hated sympathy. He never Aragorn to feel bad for him, for he did not feel bad for himself. He had grown up and learned to forget trauma, even if it did not truly work it kept him going to pretend it did not face him.

"I understand. Moria left scars on all of us, and we weren't wood elves."

Legolas nodded and petted the horse's neck. "Forgive me." He whispered and loosened the reigns. He saw Aragorn's smile, before looking ahead again.

Fear hit him like an arrow through the heart. "Stop." He whispered in a rushed breath. Aragorn did, turning wide eyes to him, but saying nothing. He let Legolas listen.

Legolas looked ahead and scanned the forest as he listened for the sound again. Thumb. Thumb. Then a branch cracking. "Footsteps." He whispered, wide eyes scanning around them. "It's something big."

Aragorn turned the horse to him. "Should we leave?"

"Yes." Legolas turned to Aragorn just when the troll appeared to their right, and his breath caught in his throat. "Aragorn!"

Before either could react the troll swung his fist down on the horses neck, and Aragorn fell to the ground with it, getting stuck under it. Legolas grabbed his bow and aimed an arrow at the troll's head. It fell with a pained grunt. Legolas jumped off his horse to run over to Aragorn and lay a hand on his arm. Aragorn nodded at him and with Legolas help slid out from under the horse, when the pained scream of a horse mad them look back. Legolas' horse had been inpaled on a spear taller than any of them, and was stuck in the ground, slowly sinking down on the wood.

Legolas pulled another arrow. Just as Aragorn called his name a rock hit him in the back of the head. It knocked him forwards, and the seconds of weakness made it easy for the troll to knock with the mace. He hit the ground, and his vision got dark.

The first thing he felt was the hard ground. Then came the soaring pain in his head, and his arm. Opening his eyes caused a strike of pain to his head, and in turn his eyes. He raised an arm to rub at his head, when he noticed his hands were tied together. He felt a wetness in his hair when he touched the side of his head. He closed his eyes again. This was not good, he knew that very well. And he had a small, sharp rock under this back.

He heard a whisper from beside him. Tipping his head to the other side he saw Aragorn sitting against a tree, a rope around his hands and feet. Legolas throat closed up at the sight.

Aragorn had a finger over this lips, signaling for Legolas to be quiet. The elf struggled to sat up anyways without the use of his hands, and tried to look around though the blinding, stabbing pain clouding his vision. Beside them was a huge fire, and on it lay Legolas' horse, hooves bound around a large tree laying over the fire. It had a huge gaping hole in his body from the spear, and the fur on its back slowly burned away as its blood dripped into the fire. The sight made Legolas feel sick.

Then the footsteps returned, with voices. Aragorn whispered for him to lay back down, and he did. It the trolls thought he was asleep they could have an advantage. Not big, but something.

"That elf just shot him." One of them said with a dark, gurgling voice. "We should cook him first."

"No let him watch." The other one said in bad english. It sounded like he struggled to get the words out. Legolas could make out two voices so far, but could not be fully sure there weren't more. His heart threatened to choke him, but he forced himself to breathe slowly to pretend to be asleep.

Then the footsteps came closer and Legolas heard a gasp of pain. He turned his head to see them drag Aragorn to the fire. One saw him, and grinned the most ugly grin Legolas had ever seen.

"You're awake. Good. Try to use your bow now, elfling."

"Don't." His voice broke, and a shame rushed over him. "Take me first." He said with a steadier voice. "He stinks, and everyone knows stinky meat does not taste very good."

They laughed. "Smart, the elf." One said. The other one hummed. "Thinks we're stupid."

"Isn't that horse enough for both of you?" Legolas tried, and felt a stab of guilt as he met the wide frightened eyes of his dear, dead horse.

"We don't care about stinky meat. All meat is good."

Legolas stomach dropped, and he was sure the look on his face clearly reflected how he felt. Aragorn seemed to see, the way he struggled against the ropes. Normally he could guard his face better, but now Aragorn was hurt and all sense left him as he panicked.

"Then why bind me?"

"You shot him."

"Forgive me." Legolas spoke softly. "We felt threatened."

"Do you still feel threatened?" The troll teased. "Good. First, watch us eat horse. Then we'll cook you. Stinky first."

Legolas dared a look at Aragorn then, who also watched him. He nodded then, trying to offer comfort. But what comfort could he give? Aragorn mouthed something then. Legolas thought he said 'distract', but even if he was wrong, what option did they have? So, he did.

So he talked. Mocked. Then, from nowhere the troll froze, his limbs turning grey and hard the moment the sun hit Legolas eyes, blinding him. Aragorn then ran over to him to cut his ropes with the spear. Legolas reached for a rock to hold onto something, and rose quickly, despite the pain.

He watched Aragorn aim the spear, and threw a rock at the remaining troll, who had started to run towards them, right into the sun. It stumbled back and clutched his head where the rock hit him. When the stone hit him in the neck he threw his spear towards Aragorn, aim far off, before he froze and fell into the fire and didn't get back up. The fire grew higher, not fueled, and Aragorn turned to him. Legolas could see that though the blur of his tears, before his legs gave out and he fell to the ground.

In less than a second Aragorn was there, and lay a steady hand on his arm. "Legolas." He breathed. The touch grounded him, and he turned to looked at the man.

"Aragorn." Legolas whispered back, closing his eyes. His head hurt terribly in the sunlight.

They walked back to their camp in silence. They just sat down and Aragorn turned to him immediately. Legolas was now grateful Aragorn was a healer. "Are you alright?"

Legolas nodded. "Are you?"

The man hummed. "Yes. Just...My leg and...my stomach."

Legolas turned to him then. "Show me."

The man hesitated, before taking his boot off to pull his pant leg up. He had a long, deep cut where the saddle must've cut him when the horse fell on him. Legolas felt like someone kicked him in the stomach.

"That could get infected Aragorn."

The man nodded. "Yes. I should...clean it. Can you get the bag hanging from your saddle?"

Legolas did not want to see his horse closer than he had, but Aragorn admitted he could not walk so he did it. He rose on his legs, which almost gave away from underneath him. In his dizzy state, he located the dead horse on the fire. He almost gasped from the pain as he touched the hot corpse, but his mind was on warrior mode and still fueled by adrenalin. So with a racing heart, he opened the burning saddlebag with bloody fingers to locate what he needed. Tears filled his eyes as he stroked the bloody fur before he took the bag back to Aragorn.

They cleaned it together. Aragorn showed him how, and Legolas learned fast. When it was clean from blood and dirt, they had nothing to bind it with. So naturally, Legolas cut his tunic with a dagger, despite protests. It was dirty, and he made a fire to cook up water. He just placed his waterskin on the fire, watching it frizzle and almost burn, along with his knife at Aragorn's request. He didn't want to think about what the knife will be used for. Aragorn protested as he took his tunic off to lift the hot bottle, before pouring it on the piece of fabric he had laid out on a clean piece of wood.

He removed Aragorn's jacket, leaving the arms in, to find his shirt deep red with glistening blood. He quickly cleaned the open cut with the almost melted soap and almost boiling water from his waterskin. He could see the tension in the man's neck as he clenched his jaw, but he didn't utter one sound.

He grabbed the knife, after realizing how much blood was still seeping out. He had hoped he could avoid it, but he needed to stop the blood. The handle was warm and the blade was glowing. It felt heavy in his hand, but Aragorn insisted. So, he burned the bleeding wound shut. Aragorn groaned then, clutching his hands together. He then tied the fabric around Aragorn's leg with shaking hands.

"Legolas...I'm gonna..."

He fainted then. Luckily, thanks to the warning, Legolas had time to catch his head and lay him down on the soft grass. He shook his shoulder gently and called his name. He knew men could faint from pain, and it didn't worry him too much.

While he was out, Legolas washed his face and hair with the warm water remaining. It felt oddly intimate, even under these circumstances. Aragorn's skin was warm and pale. Legolas knew he would be fine unless an infection got him. The thought made his throat feel tight, so he focused on the way he breathed.

Then slowly his own injuries started to let themselves be known. He burned his hands and wrists when he searched the burning bag, just as Aragorn had burned his hands when he burned the rope off in the fire. Legolas could see. He soaked a cloth in the water he had before he put it around the man's hands. Cold water would have been better, but they did not have any.Then he washed his own face, and it felt like heaven, except where the wound on his head was. That stung, but he knew he needed it clean.

Then he heard Aragorn grunt and his own pain was forgotten. He found him trying to sit up, leaning upon his elbows, looking at the cloth that was once wrapped around his hands. He slid an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against his so he wouldn't fall and hurt himself. "Lay down." It felt weird ordering Aragorn to do something. Not that Aragorn ordered him around, however, Legolas could sense the irony in him having to tell Aragorn, the healer, what to do. "I got you. Rest."

The man looked at him with dark eyes that told Legolas how much pain he was in, despite him not saying it. Legolas could not forget that gaze, even after his eyes closed again. It burned in his mind. He didn't look present, or if he was, just really out of it. He felt his forehead, but it was still cold like the rest of him. He was sure Aragorn did not sleep, but only rested, by the way his eyes fluttered under his eyelids.

The rest of the night Legolas sat with him, holding his pounding head in his hands. Every movement sent pain through his head like the troll hitting him again, and it almost rattled his teeth. He drank the warm water to sooth it, but it did not help much. He needed sleep, but dared not sleep. He felt paranoid in their vulnerable state, and couldn't stop looking around them, even if all he wanted was to close his eyes. It rained a little more during the night, but not much. More like soft tears falling from the sky along with Legolas' own quiet ones. The tears made his head hurt more, but the cold air soothed it. The night was long.

Aragorn awoke once Legolas was holding his hands a little more than was necessary to wash the burns. He had let it go and pretended it had never happened, but he was almost certain Aragorn had noticed. The next time Legolas cleaned the wound on his abdomen Aragorn was awake, and he had bitten his lip hard enough for it to bleed, but never uttered a sound of pain. Legolas got it done, but his chest hurt after. He had apologized afterwards, as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Aragorn had smiled softly then with no happiness and thanked him. Legolas kept cleaning his forehead thought out the night.

"Rest. I'm alright, and I got you." He tried to assure the man.

He was worried. For Aragorn to be this weak something had to be wrong. Normally he would walk until he dropped after a fight, and now he was so weak he could barely hold his eyes open. He was in great pain, he could tell, but he was worried something else was wrong. He guessed his head also hurt by how he had squinted at the light earlier. Still, Legolas feared an infection or poison. If he got an infection or was poisoned, he needed more help than Legolas could offer him.

The second sun rose and Aragorn had not gotten better. He had started to sweat during the night, which Legolas knew indicated fever or infection. Now he needed to make a decision. Move him, or stay. If he stayed he could better look after and care for him, but how long could he last? So, he went and looked for the horse, who he found awake and eating at the grass. He checked him quick for injury and found nothing more than bruising and blood from where the troll had hit it. It's a wonder its neck wasn't broken. The blow had been brutal. Otherwise, it seemed fine. Nothing Legolas could no now besides washing the blood off, anyways. He led him back and knelt by Aragorn.

"We'll ride now."

The man looked at him, eyes almost looking through him. "What?" His voice was so weak.

Legolas sat the man up and felt that if he let him go he would drop. "We'll ride now. We need help Aragorn. Come." He helped Aragorn stand, and the man held onto him like a lifeline. It felt weird to Legolas, for Aragorn to be so weak he clutched his shoulders like he was the only rock in a river holding him up. He led him slowly, cringing every time Aragorn hissed in pain.

He tried to help him onto the horse, which was harder than it looked. The man held onto the saddle with weak hands but had no straight to climb. Legolas kneeled and lifted his foot up, and the man got up to lean over the saddle. Legolas climbed up behind him and pulled his leg over so he could pull him close to his chest. He then started to ride blindly.

Aragorn was hot in his arms. The warmth seeped through his clothes like he was burning. Legolas tried to keep himself calm by breathing slowly, but it scared him. If Aragorn had a fever caused by infection or poison, there was little he could do. He needed help, but where would he find help? It would take weeks to ride back to Gondor or Mirkwood. Either he rode blindly away from home to find help closer, or he wasted time they did not have going home to the healers they knew. Then he made up his mind, though doubtful. Aragorn did not have weeks in this state. He needed closer help. So, he sped up his horse and rode away from home, praying he wouldn't get lost.

The next day Legolas and the horse were both exhausted. He had ridden through the night, not having the mind to stop and sleep. And even though elves did not need to sleep, Legolas' body aced for it. It had to be the mental stress, he thought. That, and the injuries he had gotten which he had almost forgotten about. His head still hurt terribly, and he knew he had some sort of brain damage. A bad concussion, most likely.

Aragorn had regained consciousness every now and then, telling the elf he felt fine and asking for his horse before falling back under, head resting onto Legolas shoulder. They rode until he reached a village. Legolas then remembered nothing more until he woke up.