Round Robin
Chapter 18
By Karri and Chianna

A tap on the shoulder pulled Aragorn's gaze from Legolas to Elladan's hand, pointed at a small, single-masted fishing boat tied up not far away. His brow furrowed questioningly, the ranger turned to face the elven twin.

"It will not take them long to notice their merchandise has fled," Elladan observed. Aragorn sigh, wearily, in agreement. "And once the search begins, we are as good as found?."

Aragorn opened his mouth to argue, but his brother raised a silencing hand.

"Look at us, Estel. Neither Elrohir nor Legolas are conscious, and you and I are both injured."

Aragorn frowned. His gaze dropping, he observed that Elrohir had, indeed, lost consciousness. His eyes moved back to Elladan, and his frowned deepened as he studied the deep cup on Elladan's right arm.

"It's deep enough, I grant you, but hardly worthy of attention just now," the twin stated, matter-of-factly, before the Ranger could ask. "My point, little brother, is that I cannot carry both, and you can barely hobble along beneath your own weight, let along bear the weight of another long enough for us to evade our hunters. We need an alternate means of transport, and we need to disappear very quickly. That," he redirected the human's attention to the fishing boat, "should serve both needs adequately enough."

Aragorn looked more closely at the shabby fishing boat. It was of a size to be manned by no more than two--perhaps even one, in a pinch--yet large enough to sport a small cabin in which Elrohir and Legolas could be both sheltered and hidden while he and Elladan set the sail and maneuvered the diminutive vessel through the fleet of corsairs and away. That was assuming, of course, that none of the swift ships took chase, for they could not outrun a corsair with a single small sail. Yet such an innocuous vessel was hardly likely to warrant the attention of the slave-traders.

A tickle of hope spreading through him, he turned to grin at Elladan, only to discover that as he pondered, the elf had already gathered up his twin and was moving stealthily toward the small boat. Gingerly cradling Legolas in his arms, Aragorn followed, keeping low to the ground. The awkward position increased the strain on his injured leg, but it wasn't far, so he bit his lip and focused on his surroundings, instead of the flares of pain shooting up his limb and spine.

Tucking into a shadow close to the hull, Elladan waited for Aragorn, needing to catch his breath. The blood loss from his wound, though not life-threatening, wore at him. He also preferred to have backup, should they encounter the owner of the seemingly unmanned vessel.

The ranger nodded to his brother as he reached the edge of the shadow. He's leg screamed at him to let him rest, but Aragorn ignored it. There'd be plenty of time to rest once they were out of immediate peril.

Elladan returned the nod before rising up to ease over the side and onto the deck. Still clinging protectively to his brother, he turned to watch Aragorn's progress. Once both ranger and prince were safely aboard, the twin turned toward the small cabin. Shifting his weight to move forward, his eyes met a pair of silver-green eyes, staring with a mixture of wonder and trepidation. Elladan froze, a swell of panic and frustration washing over him. They were so close!

The eyes moved from the twins to Aragorn and Legolas, then back to the twins. They met Elladan's again briefly, then moved to his ears and grew wider. Putting a finger to his lips, the eyes' owner waved them onward.

Elladan turned slightly to meet Aragorn's eyes, and the Ranger saw his own thought reflected back at him. Trusting this man was a risk, yet what else could they do? If he chose to raise the alarm, it would matter little if they jumped over the side and fled. They could not get far enough or fast enough to escape. Nay! They would take the chance--and pray that the Valar were not playing some cruel joke.

Crouching, the fugitives advanced warily until they reached the small door. The fisherman motioned for them to move toward the rear of the cabin. Elladan frowned, and Aragorn scowled, neither liking the idea of having their only exit blocked. But, as there was little choice, they shuffled onward. There was a sturdy-looking cot secured to the back wall. Simultaneously sighing in relief as they deposited each of their bundles to lie side by side, the two turned and, of one mind, squared their shoulder to confront their would-be savior.

"Mae govannen, son of Elrond Peredhel." The fisherman bowed, first to the twin, then to Aragorn.

Aragorn's scowl deepened, even as Elladan raised a brow in question.

"Leithand fisherman of Belfalas at your service, my lords," the man continued, his brow creasing anxiously at their continued defensive posturing. "I assure you I mean you no harm! Long has it been since any of the fair folk have passed through my lands, yet twins are not so common, nor my people so unheeding of the tales of old that I cannot guess who it is that stands before me."

Elladan and Aragorn relaxed slightly, neither fully ready to trust this stranger, but daring to hope.

"Good, good!" Leithand grinned, as their postures eased. Moving forward gingerly, he was careful to keep his hands in plain sight as he studied the two elves lying upon the cots.

"Their wounds are grave, I fear," he sighed, his smile dimming. "And am of little use in tending the injured."

Elladan nodded grimly.

"Perhaps I would be of more service tending to the boat," the fisherman suggested. "I venture to guess that a quick departure would be most expedient."

Elladan nodded, again, bowing slightly. "Our thanks to you, Leithand of Belfalas. Your kindness is a blessing unlooked for."

Leithand grinned, abashedly.

"Your pardon, then," he bade, before turning abruptly.

"I will go and keep our fisherman company till we are away. You stay here and see what you can do to aid our brothers," Elladan muttered under his breath, as their newfound 'friend' strode energetically toward the door.

Aragorn nodded, his lips set in a tight line, as pain mingled with weariness and doubt. He watched the elder twin disappear onto the deck, before moving to Elrohir. Of the two injured elves, the ranger suspected his brother's wound would prove more manageable. Indeed, he feared there would be little he could do for Legolas, and wished to postpone confirmation of that painful truth a little longer.

Biting his lip, Aragorn examined his brother's stab wound. It had begun to bleed freely again, and was grave, indeed. Yet, perhaps, he could only find a way staunch the flow of blood...? Looking around the cabin, his gaze fell upon several oil-filled lanterns and an assortment of knives of various size and function.

The ranger grinned, in spite of himself. Cauterization! Yes, that might just do the trick! Pondering whether or not the Valar had indeed decided to intervene on their behalf, he hobbled towards the implements.

TBC...