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Chain Reaction  by Estelle

Round Robin
Chapter 5
By (in order of writing appearance) Jessi and Cat

Author's notes: Cat and I would like to thank Wanda, Elvensong, Val, and PT for their great sections (and some evil twists ::looks at PT::) Without those, this wouldn't be possible. Okay, now on to part five!

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The rain continued at a steady pace into the morning, its rate lessening only slightly from the night before. Instead of solid ground, pools of soupy mud ravished the land. The mighty trees above danced in the wind as water trickled down from their glistening leaves, filling pools at their bases.

Beneath this swaying canopy, the figure of a man clothed in a dark cloak snaked through the trees. His shoes sank into the mud; and mud clutched at his dark boots, causing him to tumble repeatedly. The constant struggle of navigating through the mud and clusters of fallen branches had quickly worn out the young ranger. He limped, an injured leg throbbing in the cold, wet climate and screaming for him to stop.

Aragorn shook his head in silent protest. He couldn't rest now, not while his friend needed him. His breath smoked the air as he let out a sigh. So far, he hadn't found anything. Whipping his soaking hair away from his silver-green eyes, he stopped and touched his aching leg, begging for it to listen to him and stay strong. The thoughts of his missing Elven friend were the only thing that kept his leg from giving in, but even that wouldn't keep him going much longer.

He decided to give in slightly and leaned against the bulky tree nearest to him. The ranger had to squint to see through the silver sheet of droplets and towards the clearing right ahead. Glancing down at the dark pools, Aragorn realized that even if Legolas had left a trace it would have been impossible for any creature--even a ranger--to find.

All Aragorn could see was the pool of mud and some densely crowded trees a few hundred yards away. The young man's eyes settled on that area as he pushed himself off the tree. His leg began protesting again as weight was suddenly applied and Aragorn couldn't help holding back a soft moan.

Settling back onto the tree, he clenched onto his injured leg and shut his eyes until the new wave of pain left. When he opened them again they still faced rippling mud, but there was something strange there that caught the ranger's attention. His eyes suddenly grew wide when a glint of silver sliced its way through the brown muck.

Without hesitating, Aragorn reached into the mud and pulled out the glimmering object. He gasped as he held it in his trembling hand. Reaching with his other, he calmed the shaking and had to blink several times to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him. They weren't.

"Oh no..."

Worry etched itself deeper into Aragorn's already troubled face. He fingered the ivory handle down to the golden leaflet design from the silver blade and the ranger knew that his worst fears were confirmed: His friend was in grave danger.

He tucked the knife into his soaked satchel and vowed it would be returned to its rightful owner. Finding new strength, Aragorn stood up and ignored his objecting leg as he slowly made his way to the dark patch of trees. Through the heavy rain he prayed to Earendil that these woods would provide more answers.

"Don't worry, my friend; I'll find you. Hold on..."

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Two men stood over Legolas' unconscious form. Neither of them looked over the age of thirty. The one that had shot him still had his bow drawn and seemed to be frozen in place. The other moved to kneel next to the elf.

"Varan!" the man named Syrill snapped, "Put down that bow and help me!"

Varan jolted out of his shock and rushed to help Syrill, who was binding Legolas' hands together. When they were done, Varan pulled the prince to his feet and was just about to hoist the elf over his shoulder, when Legolas regained consciousness. With the last of the energy he had in his body, he struggled against the men's hold on him.

Yet it was not to be. Syrill quickly regained his grasp on the prince, and Varan hit him harshly in the head with the handle of his dagger.

Just before the darkness took him again, Legolas looked up and saw a figure running toward them. Recognition dawned, but his attempted shout came out as a mere whisper.

"Strider..."


TBC...





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