The next morning, Legolas awoke and stretched, his uneasy feeling quickly coming back to him. Aragorn had taken over the watch halfway through the night, insisting that 'even Elves need sleep'. Legolas had wanted to remain in the tree, to try to make sense of his feeling, but Aragorn had called him down from it.

He began to protest that Elves didn't need as much rest as humans—as Aragorn knew—but the words died on his lips when he realized that adequate rest would be necessary for him to be completely alert if—or when—danger presented itself. Still, his rest had not been easy, and he didn't get as much sleep as Aragorn thought.

Standing, he inhaled the fresh morning air, stopping when a dull throb suddenly materialized in his head. He winced, taken by surprise, and frowned. What is this? he thought. Elves do not get sick. He rubbed his temples, figuring that it would disappear momentarily, but it didn't. Mayhap I rolled over and struck it on a rock? He felt no bump on his head, and knew that even if he had done such a thing in his sleep, it would not hurt this much.

Deciding to ignore it for the time being, he joined Aragorn near the fire.

"Good morning," said the human, when Legolas sat beside him.

"Likewise," Legolas said.

"Do you still feel unease about our surroundings?" Aragorn asked him.

Legolas nodded, reluctantly. "I still have no explanation. If there is danger, I should sense it clearly. If not, I should know for sure." He sighed. "This...half feeling…is unnerving."

Aragorn studied his friend, wishing that there was some way that he could help. "It appears that the only thing we can do is continue on," he said. "And wait to see what we come across."

Legolas nodded, still looking troubled, but trying to hide it.

Aragorn, not wanting to damage Legolas' pride, said no more, rising and readying the horses.

Following him, Legolas mounted his steed and rode beside his friend.

Aragorn noticed his friend's silence, and it seemed to be from more than just his confusion over the current situation. "Dwarf got your tongue?"

Legolas smiled slightly at that. "I am just thinking."

"Mayhap you are dwelling on it too deeply," Aragorn said. "Try to relax." He saw his friend's posture change slightly, but the strain in his face didn't change, and Aragorn noticed that he was holding his body stiffly, as if he were in pain.

"Are you well?" he asked, worriedly.

Legolas nodded, succeeding in hiding a wince when it increased his headache. "I am well."

They rode on in silence for a while, both of them scanning the terrain for any signs of life…or danger. Finding nothing but more silent trees, they were amazed at the extent of the nothingness.

"There has to be a reason for this," said Aragorn, shaking his head. "It does not make sense, and it does not bode well."

Legolas agreed. "There may be some dark power at work here."

"Mayhap that is what you sense," said Aragorn.

"But why can I not be sure?" Legolas asked, snapping his head up to look at him, and visibly wincing.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, frowning.

"Tis nothing," said the Elf, raising a hand to the back of his neck. "I merely turned my head too quickly."

Aragorn accepted his answer, but watched him with a frown. He has been acting strangely, he thought. I believe it to be more than just this odd forest.

Legolas knew his friend's thoughts and sighed inwardly, having hoped to keep his pain a secret. He was completely bewildered on why his head was aching so fiercely, after having not injured it.

Suddenly feeling very thirsty, Legolas groped to where he knew his water pouch to be, not wanting to move his head. His fingers betrayed him, however, by knocking the pouch to the ground.

A soft *thump* in the otherwise quiet woods made Aragorn stop his horse. Looking towards his friend, he saw Legolas carefully sliding—not jumping or climbing down—from his horse, landing on his feet and looking towards the ground. "What happened?"

"My water pouch," Legolas told him, bending down carefully and standing up slowly…all the while keeping his head as still as possible.

Aragorn frowned; the Elf's actions made his situation obvious. "You are in pain!"

Legolas almost shook his head, but caught himself in time. "I merely seem to have injured a muscle in my neck from earlier. It should be fine soon."

Aragorn looked like he wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, as Legolas opened the water pouch and took a long drink. It was difficult, thanks to his pain—tilting his head back caused massive throbbing—but he knew that Aragorn was watching him, so he fought not to show it.

However, when he lowered his head again, the forest seemed to spin for a moment. Leaning towards the horse with the motion, he petted it in an attempt to make Aragorn think that he'd done it purposely.

"You are hiding something from me," Aragorn said to him, as Legolas mounted his horse again.

"Nay," Legolas denied. "I am simply troubled by our situation."

Aragorn studied him as they started to ride again, knowing that he was lying. Part of him was concerned, but another part argued that he was an Elf, and immune to the sicknesses of Man. Even if Legolas had somehow injured himself, Aragron knew that his immortal body had already started to heal it.

The friend and Healer in Aragorn demanded that Legolas tell him what was wrong, but since the Elf was being evasive, Aragorn had no choice but to rely on what his eyes told him. He saw no wounds and there was no blood. His friend looked as though he had a headache, but an Elf would not develop one for no reason.

Sighing, Aragorn decided to keep a close eye on his friend.