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Against All Odds  by Estelle

IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

Author’s Note: I did NOT write “Never Tell”. It is written by leggylover03. The story id is 1523402 on FFNet. If you’re still unable to find it, let me know and I will bounce you a copy :) But be warned that the story deals with child abuse so if you have a strong reaction towards those kinds of stories, I strongly suggest that you skip it. Don’t flame the author for you have been warned :P I merely borrowed the character Thad for a spin and promised her that I won’t kill him. LOL!

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Chapter 9 – Fatal Error

Legolas caught Aragorn’s sword with his knife and twisted it harshly out of the way. The young ranger stumbled backwards slightly under the force but regained his footing quickly, thrusting his sword at Legolas -- a well calculated move that he knew the elf would have no problem avoiding. But instead of sidestepping the oncoming attack, Legolas gasped, his eyes widened with shock as a fiery pain exploded in his back, a dagger buried up to the hilt in his body. The dagger was thrown with such great force that the impact propelled him forward right into Aragorn’s outstretched sword.

Aragorn expected Legolas to move away, but what happened next took him completely by surprise. Seeing his friend lose the grip on his knife, his brain barely registered the painful gasp from his opponent before Legolas lurched forward towards him, plunging straight onto the blade that he was pointing at his friend. Aragorn retracted his weapon sharply, but was unable to move it away in time. He watched in horror as his sword sank into Legolas’ abdomen.

The elf cried out as intense agony ripped through him, sending him reeling. A loud ringing exploded inside his head, and everything went black for a moment before flashes of light invaded his vision, turning his world into a complete chaos. Gripping the sharp blade that was still embedded inside his body, Legolas squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and pulled the offensive object out, before sinking slowly onto his knees.

“Legolas!” Aragorn screamed out the elf’s name as he sank towards the ground along with his friend. His sword abandoned beside him, he reached out to grip his friend’s shoulder to prevent him from falling onto his back. Cradling the elf with one hand, his free hand pressed down hard on the gaping wound on Legolas’ stomach and felt the warm blood seep rapidly through his fingers.

Legolas let out a sharp gasp as a fresh surge of pain tore through his body, sending him into a violent convulsion. He felt a warm wetness spreading down his side and soaking quickly into his leggings. Aragorn was shouting something, but the pain had deafened him momentarily, and he could not hear what the ranger was saying. The only thought that ran through his mind was that he had failed his friend, and he would pay the ultimate price because of his carelessness. And Thad. What would he do to Elladan and Elrohir?

“Thad...” Legolas’ voice was barely audible, but Aragorn heard it nevertheless. Forcing his eyes open, the elven prince blinked hard through the pain, trying to see past the unshed tears in his eyes.

Thad was moving hastily back towards the house, his right arm still wrapped tightly around Elrohir’s neck. The only thing different was that he was now without a weapon, having thrown the dagger at Legolas. His plan was partially successful. He had intended for the elf to die by Aragorn’s sword, but the ranger’s quick reflexes had spared the miserable elf’s life. However, he doubted that the elf\ would live long. The “special ingredient” that he had added to the dagger would finish the job for him. Now all he had to do was to dispose of his two baits to complete the game. Moving stealthily back towards the hut as he dragged Elrohir along, he planned to kill the twins before making his escape, leaving the hated human to grieve for his loss just like he grieved for the loss of his father. His escape would be easy, for he knew Aragorn would not leave his injured friend to go after him, but he failed to predict what Legolas did next.

Clenching his jaw tightly, Legolas reached towards his back and wrenched out the small dagger. Blood gushed from the wound, and the action was accompanied by excruciating pain, but the elf forced himself to raise the dagger and launched the weapon at the retreating man. Unfortunately, his aim was off by several feet and instead of piercing the man in his upper body, the dagger buried itself in his leg.

With a surprised yelp, Thad stumbled and lost his grip on Elrohir as he crashed onto the ground. Before he could get back onto his feet, Aragorn let out an infuriated howl and lunged at his nemesis. Thad cried out in terror at the enraged human and scrambled frantically back onto his feet, making a mad stumble into the forest.

“Estel... let him go...” The elf struggled with the words, while desperately trying to hold onto consciousness, fighting against the force that was trying to drag him into the darkness.

Although weak, Legolas’ voice traveled to the human’s ears easily in the silence of pre-dawn, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. Aragorn spun around forcefully, feeling extremely guilty for leaving his grievously injured friend to seek his own revenge. Rushing back to the elf prince, he was appalled at the sight that greeted him.

Legolas was lying on his side, his knees drawn towards his chest and his hands clenching tightly at his stomach. Despite his efforts, blood continued to seep through his fingers, staining the grass beneath him a dark brown color. Aragorn did not even dare to imagine how badly the wound on his back was. The elf’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Lines of pain marred his too pale face, and his lips were slightly parted as he panted heavily and with effort, his breath labored and uneven.

Tearing a few strips of cloth from his cloak, Aragorn balled the material and placed it on the elf’s back before rolling his friend as gently as possible onto his back. He hoped that the pressure of Legolas’s body would slow the bleeding while Aragorn tended to his other injury. Pulling Legolas’ hands away from his stomach, the man pressed down hard on the wound with another wad of cloth, trying to staunch the heavy bleeding.

A scream tore from the elf’s throat at his action, and Aragorn fell backwards at the unexpected reaction. Legolas was not someone who would give in to pain so easily unless it was so intense that the elf was unable to bear it anymore. The only time the elf had acted this way was when he had to remove the broken rib from his lung. Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Legolas was jerked cruelly back to awareness by the searing pain that threatened to tear him apart. Vaguely, he heard someone scream, not realizing that the tormented soul was actually he. His mind had somehow severed itself from his body momentarily, but now they seemed to have found their way back to each other again. Feeling started to creep back into his broken body, and the pain gradually increased as his senses woke from their slumber. An unnatural heat emanated from his back to the rest of his body, the burning sensation found its way to every nerve in his body. The poison had heightened his sense of pain, and the slightest touch now sent him into a whirlpool of agony, as if he were being burnt alive by the fires of Mordor. He wished desperately to sink into unconsciousness, but the intense pain would not relinquish its grip on him and persistently dragged him back towards the surface. He also wanted to tell Aragorn not to touch him, for each touch sent unrelenting agony flaring through the millions of nerves in his body, but the words refused to come. All he managed was a loud moan, and instinctively drew his knees up to his chest causing him to roll onto his side once again.

Aragorn watched in shock as the elf pulled into a tight ball, tears streaking down his deathly pale face. Fingers of pain wrapped around his heart as a pang of guilt rose from deep within him threatening to engulf him whole. His breath caught in his throat, and he choked out a desperate cry when he witnessed a wave of violent convulsions assault the frail elf. The strong tremor caused him to lose his grip on the cloth he was holding over the wound, and the human cursed out loud at his inability to manage such a simple task. However, most of the anger was directed at the fact that the elf was seriously wounded because of him. He would never be able to forgive himself if Legolas succumb to his injuries.

“Legolas!” the deep fear in his voice frightened even himself, and he drew in an agonizing breath trying to steady himself. He needed a clear head to deal with the situation. If he fell apart now, Legolas’ chances of survival would be close to none. Prying the elven prince’s hand away from his body forcefully, he forced the wad of cloth back into place and pressed the other one onto his back. His action earned him another heart-wrenching scream, but he steeled his nerves and kept pressure on the makeshift bandages, while praying to the Valar for the heavy bleeding to slow.

“Come on, Legolas, don’t you dare give up!” the ranger choked out. The unshed tears finally made their way shamelessly down his face, coalescing at and dripping off his chin.

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TBC...





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