**Rain**

Rain poured down in cascading waves, so thick that it was impossible to see more than a few feet beyond. Gray clouds covered the sky, crashing into each other and molding into different shapes, bringing more rain down onto the two travelers in the forest.

"This had to come," Aragorn muttered darkly, blinking through the raindrops. It was cold and his clothes were drained with icy water - not a very comfortable feeling.

"You have to see it this way - it's better than fighting against orcs," Legolas, his travelling companion, tried to lighten the situation. Since he was an elf, he didn't mind the cold temperatures as much as his human friend, but he too found the wetness uncomfortable.

"Right now I'd rather fight against something," the ranger grumbled, "Then I would at least become warm!"

This earned him a chuckle from his friend, who just shook his head. "We shall reach Rivendell during the next two hours, there you can rest and warm up," the elf shot a glance towards the human, "or should we search for a dry resting place now and continue after the rain has stopped?"

Aragorn sighed. "Legolas, there won't *be* a dry resting place in this rain. Let's just travel faster - the quicker we walk, the quicker I can change into dry clothes." He tried to wipe the water away from his face, but didn't succeed - the rain was falling that heavy that it was like walking through a lake.

It was quite ironical that it rained now, when they were travelling home from Mirkwood, and not during the sunny days they had spent there. The ranger resisted the urge to mutter a curse at his incredible luck; it seemed as if he and Legolas could never manage one journey without any problems. Surely, compared with other accidents they had managed to step into, this was harmless, but still...it *was* cold, his fingers were freezing and he was probably getting a cold out of this.

Right on cue he had to cough, which earned him a concerned glance of his elven friend. "Are you getting sick?" the archer asked, remembering the fact that humans tended to become sick, in opposite to elves.

"Ahh, I probably caught a cold in this weather," Aragorn waved it off, "That's the bad thing when you're human."

The concern didn't quite leave Legolas' face. "Estel, I don't know..." he said, addressing the ranger with his elven nickname, "If you are sick, it might be better if we rest..."

The ranger shot a glare towards his friend. "Honestly, I'm not deathly ill, it's just a little cold. It will get better as soon as we reach Rivendell and I can take a hot - very hot - bath."

Legolas shrugged, not quite convinced by this answer, but deciding that there was no way to change the human's opinion. "Somehow, we can never manage it to enter Rivendell at full health, can we? One of us is always injured, or sick, or unconscious...." He shook his head. "Your brothers will kill me."

"Well, they both have their share of dramatic homecomings themselves," Aragorn commented dryly and huddled together in his cloak, trying to get a bit warmer. "So they shouldn't be that big-mouthed. I remember that one time when Elrohir was shot by orcs and Elladan had to drag him home....father wasn't very pleased."

"I can see why," Legolas had to grin while imagining this scene.

It was very dark in the wood, although it wasn't even late afternoon, but thick, heavy clouds covered the sky and no sunlight could pierce through. The constant dripping of the raindrops made it impossible to hear anything else, a reason to be extra careful. A cold wind blew past them.

It hadn't been like that when they had wandered off from Mirkwood some days ago. Aragorn had visited Legolas for a month and now the prince was coming to see Rivendell, looking forward to meet the twin brothers and Elrond again. On their departure, the sun had been shining and not a single cloud had covered the sky.

The first days had been peaceful, no orc attack, no traps, no accidents and beautiful weather - it was just too good to be true.

That morning it had started to rain, only lightly at first, then heavier and heavier until the two friends were soaked to the bones. If Rivendell hadn't been near, they would have searched for a dry place to stay until the worst was over, but they were both eager to reach their goal.

The ground was muddy and often Aragorn would slip, only his fast reaction rescuing him from falling on the ground more than once. He rubbed his hands against each other in order to warm up his frozen fingers, but it was no use. Once again a cough escaped his lips, which caused Legolas to look at his friend.

"Don't even start," the ranger warned and continued to walk without another word. The elf shook his head and followed, but couldn't clear the worry from his face; he knew that his friend was cold and that it was doing nothing good if he was walking around in the rain like that.

Aragorn himself was rather grumpy. He found it highly irritating that it was only - and always - him who became sick. Plus, he knew that his father as well as his brothers would fuss over him as soon as he reached home and announced that he was sick (which he wouldn't, he silently promised himself, after all it was just a cold, after all!).

Sometimes it was really frustrating to live together with immortals, who thought of him as a child, even if he would count as an adult under humans with his twenty-five years.

The ranger rubbed his forehead and winced as a slight pain shot through his temples. Great. As if it wouldn't be enough to freeze like that, no, he had to get a headache, too. Rain continued pouring down the sky, trickled down his face and under his clothes. It was extremely uncomfortable.

The two walked at a steady pace through the trees, which didn't give them much shelter from the wetness. More than once a branch was moved by the wind and a flood of water splashed down on elf and human, soaking them even more, if that was possible.

Aragorn had just rubbed his eyes free as such a flood hit him at full force. He yelped as the icy water ran down his face and quickly jumped away, but it was too late. The ranger let out a frustrated growl while Legolas tried to suppress a snicker.

"You look like a drowned cat," he told his friend.

"Well, it won't be long and I'll *feel* like a drowned cat," was the gloomy reply as the human once more tried to dry his face, with the same result as ever - none.

*****************

"It is booooring," Elrohir sighed, tracing along the wooden table and glancing out of the window. The rain made it impossible to go outside and forced the twins to stay in the house, although they had planned to go hunting today.

"Then do something," was the calm reply of his brother, who sat in a corner of the room and was reading a book.

"What could I do?" his twin whined, "I can't get out in this weather!" He sounded more like a five-year-old than the immortal elf he was.

"You could, for example, clean the stables and stop going on my nerves," Elladan suggested, not once looking up from his book. He received an angry glare from the other elf.

"Very funny," Elrohir mumbled and continued staring into the rain. It didn't rain very often here in Rivendell, and when it did, then at full force. One was immediately soaked when one went outside in this weather, and although they both were not in danger to become sick, they didn't found it very amusing to hunt in this kind of weather. "I wonder what Estel and Legolas are doing." he mused, "Do you think they're out there in this weather?"

"Probably not," Elladan replied absently, "Nobody travels in such a weather, it's too uncomfortable. I bet not even the orcs leave their caves today. I guess they stayed at Mirkwood for a few more days."

"Yeah, but we're talking about Estel and Legolas!"

Elladan looked up. "Oh. Right," he frowned. "Well, then they *are* probably out there in this weather, and if they are I will have to teach Estel a lesson as soon as he comes home - he knows that he gets sick easier than we do!"

Elrohir shrugged. "And he probably forgot it, or he doesn't care. You know Estel." The elf stretched and looked once again out of the window. "Well, we don't even know if they are out there, so there is no use discussing it."

"May I remember you that it was you, my dear brother, who started this discussion?" Elladan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Because I was bored. And I still am."

"That's your problem," the older twin turned back to the book he was reading and tuned everything else out.

"That's not fair," Elrohir grumbled, but was being ignored by his twin. "Elladan? Hey, Elladan?" He didn't receive a reply.

"Oh great!" the dark-haired elf rolled his eyes and stood up. "Well, maybe going to the stables isn't that a bad idea. At least the horses are a better entertainment than you." he walked to the door, waiting for a reaction.

But Elladan didn't hear him, or didn't want to hear him. Elrohir sighed once more and shook his head. "What a boring day," he murmured and left the room.

On the outside, the rain continued to fall on the roofs of Rivendell, filling every gap and hole in the whole area. A cold wind blew through the sky so that sometimes the raindrops weren't falling vertically, but nearly horizontally, if that was possible. A bad weather, indeed.

*****************

He was cold. He had been cold for the last hours and it was making him grumpy.

And he was wet. Dripping wet. His boots were full of mud, and the water had soaked them, too, so that with every step he made, it felt as if he was walking through water. It was difficult to move his cold, white fingers, and it cost all his will to keep his teeth from chattering.

The only thing Aragorn could think of was his warm room in Rivendell. He closed his eyes. Ahh, the possibility to change into wonderful dry and warm clothes, to drink a hot tea and eat something, to take a warm, thick blanket and lie down on the bed - no rain, no water, no cold wind, no freezing.

He was impatient to reach his home and quickened his pace, although his head was firmly protesting. The headache had increased during the last half hour, a dull pain behind his eyes which made it difficult for the young man to concentrate. His cough had increased, and more than once he found Legolas looking worriedly at him.

The elf was indeed concerned by the condition of his friend. He feared that the ranger might fall gravely ill if they didn't reach a dry place soon; and there was nothing he could do.

Aragorn stumbled about a tree root and would have fallen if Legolas hadn't caught him. "Easy, Strider," he scolded and gently helped the man to stand again. "You are really sick," he then stated, looking into the face of the human. The ranger's eyes were glazed, a sign of fever, and he coughed again.

"I hate it," croaked Aragorn and glared at his friend. "It's always me! It's unfair!"

Legolas smiled slightly. "Well, it doesn't lie in our power to change it, and right now I would rather see you in Rivendell than discussing about this topic. You have a fever, and this cough doesn't sound so good."

Aragorn nodded. "It won't be long now," he said, blinking through the rain and looking at the familiar surroundings. "We should reach Rivendell soon."

The elf nodded. "Then let us walk, my friend, for I really want to leave this unkindly weather."

The two started once again and wandered through the wet, dripping forest. The wind was blowing into their faces now, and with the wind the raindrops were coming, splattering against the skin of the two friends and rolling down their cheeks. They had to put their hands in front of their eyes in order to shelter them from the icy rain.

Legolas found himself hovering over his friend, carefully watching how he walked. He couldn't help it; as an elf he wasn't used to sickness, knew just how to treat bleeding wounds, but knew nothing about the cure of illnesses.

He had once experienced how Aragorn had become ill, and they had been in Rivendell then, with the help of Elrond. He certainly didn't want to live through the same out here in the woods without any help.

Therefore he was more than relieved as he finally saw the familiar buildings of Rivendell reach up from the trees. He flashed his friend a quick smile and guided the ranger through the entrance. Nobody could be seen, for everyone was inside the house, where it was warm and dry. Only the guards were outside and nodded them a short greeting.

Legolas walked up the stairway, followed by a tired and aching Aragorn and entered the palace. "Now you can get your warm bath," he smiled to the ranger and was once more concerned when he just received a weary nod. Maybe they should go to Elrond immediately...

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps which were coming nearer. Around the corner walked a very gloomy looking Elrohir.

However, the face of the elf immediately brightened as he recognized the two wet figures. "Estel! And Legolas!" he quickly walked nearer. "We were just talking about you, thinking that not even you were that stupid to travel in this weather, and there you are..." the twin shook amused his head.

"It wasn't our fault," Aragorn pointed out and coughed, "We were caught in surprise."

"Are you ill?" Elrohir wanted to know, totally ignoring the ranger's statement. He stepped nearer and pressed his hand on the forehead of the young man, causing Aragorn to jerk back. "You have a fever," he stated and sighed. "Seems that Elladan was right. You should better go and see father. Are you okay?" He asked Legolas.

"I'm well," the prince replied while trying to quench the water out of his long hair.

"Now that's a surprise," Elrohir muttered and clapped Aragorn on the back. "Come on, now, you will get even sicker when you stand around like that. Go to your room, fetch some dry clothes and I'll go and search out father."

The ranger didn't object, knowing that he wouldn't succeed - especially because he felt really sick. He went to his room and Legolas to the guestroom. It was a relief not to feel the water on one's face, and to walk around in a warm house instead of the cold forest.

Slowly his fingers were coming back to life again - they started to hurt. Figures.

Aragorn entered his room and leaned his head against the wooden door. He was feeling....very tired, still very cold and his head was hurting. He was just glad that he was home.

Slowly he pulled his shirt off, which was dripping with water, and threw it over a chair, took a towel and dried his soaking hair. Then he changed his clothes until he was wearing a dry outfit. Content to be relatively warm again, he let himself fall on the bed. His hair was still damp and his throat was hurting, but it didn't seem that bad now that he finally was at home.

Aragorn took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar smell of his home. Yep, he had really missed it.

It was so soft and nice on the bed that the man would have fallen asleep, if the door had not opened. He jerked up and saw Elrond entering, followed by Elrohir and right behind Elladan. A huge smile appeared on Aragorn's face and he quickly scrambled out of the bed. "Hello father," he smiled and hugged the elf.

Elrond returned the hug, glad that his foster son had again returned home, and this time relatively unharmed. "It's good to see you, Estel." he told the ranger and then looked closer at him. "Although you are ill, as Elrohir told me?"

"Just a cold, nothing more," Aragorn coughed.

Behind his father, Elladan sighed. "Estel, the day you and Legolas will come home without any injuries or sicknesses or poisoned wounds is the day orcs learn to fly! What did you think, travelling in this weather? You know that you get sick!"

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Hey, the weather was good in the morning and when it started raining, we were already on the way and there was no shelter. I can't do anything about the weather, you know, it's not that I wanted it to rain." He rubbed his aching eyes. "Believe me, I didn't want to become sick either."

"But..."

"Stop, you two," Elrond raised his hand. "It has happened and nothing can change it now. And you Estel," he placed his hand on his son's forehead, "you have a slight fever. You're right, it's probably just a cold, but we don't want to risk anything - after you've eaten something, I will make you a tea and then you will go to bed. Immediately."

The ranger sighed. "Yes, father." In truth he was quite happy about this suggestion, because he felt like he could drop any second now and sleep for days.

The lord left the room, while Elrohir and Elladan stayed behind. The twins plopped down beside their adopted brother, who blinked at them out of glazed eyes. Aragorn's headache was increasing, but he didn't want to show it, for he knew that it would only cause his brothers more concern. All he needed was rest, and that he would get.

"It's good to be home," he smiled and let himself fall on the bed again, closing his eyes.

"And it's good to have you back," Elrohir laughed. "It was getting boring without you two. Nothing happened, and we couldn't do anything because of the rain."

"*You* couldn't do anything, I was quite content in reading," Elladan pointed out.

"Yeah, whatever," Elrohir waved his twin off. "So tell me, Estel, what did happen to you in Mirkwood? And don't tell me nothing happened, because I won't believe that. You always get caught in an adventure if you're together with Legolas."

"I would rather express it the other way round," an amused voice interjected. Legolas, now in a new and clean outfit, had entered the room and walked smiling towards the three. "I always get caught in an adventure when I'm together with Strider. In this short time I've know him, I have endured more injuries and been caught in more dangerous situations than in the time before I knew him - and that has been quite long!" the prince laughed, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Aragorn chuckled softly. "Oh yes? Well, I guess I have just to live with the fact that danger awaits me everywhere." He grinned up at his friend, glad to be safe again.

The four chattered animatedly until the food was brought along with the tea Elrond had prepared. The elven lord chased the three elves out of Aragorn's room so that the ranger could sleep and cure his cold.

They laughed and shouted him a 'Good Night', which the ranger replied in rolling his eyes at them. His father also wished him a good night and shut the door.

Alone in his room, it didn't take long until Aragorn was fast asleep, curled up in his blankets while on the outside the rain still poured down from the sky as if there wasn't an end.

*****************

It was in the middle of the night when he woke up again. The fire had nearly died, just a dark red gloom was filling the room with its light.

At first Aragorn was disorientated and didn't know why he had woken up. He raised his head - and started coughing. The coughs were coming out deep from his lungs and hurt in his chest. He tried to take a deep breath, but failed miserably.

The fit didn't stop, instead it became more difficult for him to breath. The ranger tried to suppress it, but it only made things worse. His whole body jerked with the coughs, and when the fit finally stopped, he sank exhausted down on the pillow.

A hammering pain in his head which made it impossible to focus on anything, and he blinked wearily, once again cursing his luck. He was sweating, and yet it was cold. Aragorn buried himself deeper in his blankets, but it didn't seem to help; he shivered nonetheless. His throat hurt from the rough coughing fit.

The ranger groaned and put a pillow over his head. Being ill was far worse than having an open wound. It made ones mind hazy, and the fever made everything seem blurry.

He lay awake for quite some time, hoping that the pain would go away, but it didn't. Instead it was increasing, now partnered with a deep ache in his chest. Every breath he took rattled deep down, and Aragorn grew worried. This wasn't supposed to happen, had he caught a normal cold. It never hurt like that.

Slowly the young man tried to rise into a sitting position. The whole room whirled around him and he groaned once again, clutching his head. Another coughing fit made it impossible for him to move, and he spent the next minutes in desperately gasping for air. Sweat was rolling down his forehead.

Knowing that this wasn't normal, he decided to call one of his brothers, maybe they would help him. However, the more Aragorn moved, the more difficult it became for him to stay awake. His vision became black for a moment and his shaky legs wouldn't support the weight of his body. He only managed a few steps until he collapsed on the floor, pain burning now in his chest. He gasped for air, black spots in his vision.

Then welcoming darkness surrounded him and took the pain away.