A/N: Reminder: the dream doesn’t strictly follow Legolas's POV, as stated at the beginning of the previous chapter.

Chapter Thirteen

Legolas's dream was following the exact series of events, as they had played out in reality. He shifted in the bed, feeling that something might be coming that he hadn’t been able to remember. Perhaps, the dream would reveal to him what had happened to him in those woods. That thought made him shiver. He unconsciously slid down deeper under the covers, like a child who feared a monster was coming. He might have pulled the covers up over his head, if he’d known how right he was.

The elf, though apprehensive, let his mind continue with the dream. He had to know what had befallen him.

~*~*~

As he and Estel traveled down the path, the sun began to sink down below the cliff tops, plunging the forest into a light gloom that deepened with each passing minute. The sounds all around the two friends began shifting to those of the night. The day creatures were heading for their places of rest and safety, as the night hunters prepared to came out to begin their search for prey. Those prey, in turn, would soon use the darkness to hide their presence, as they hunted for their own food.

A large brown owl suddenly swooped down from the trees and flew across the path several yards in front of the riders. Wings spread wide, it silently glided toward a spot to the right. Extending its legs out in front of its feathered body, the bird spread its talons. The owl’s aim was deadly. It barely slowed, as it grabbed an unfortunate furry creature and then disappeared back into the leafy canopy., The screech of triumph echoed through the trees and then died away, as the winged hunter landed on a sturdy branch and began to devour its meal.

“That poor thing had no chance,” Aragorn commented.

“No, it did not.” Legolas looked at his friend. “One must die so another may live and feed their young. To be born and then killed by someone more powerful or cunning is often the cycle of life in this world.” He refrained from saying it was the cycle of mortal life. Yet, the fact that even immortal elves could be killed sometimes made them a small, though reluctant, part of that mortal cycle.

After a few moments of pondering the inevitabilities of mortality, Aragorn said, “I think we should stop and make camp. There’s a stream not far from here, in that direction.” He pointed to the right.

Legolas nodded, having heard the water rushing over the rocks of the stream bed half a mile back. He turned off the path and headed for it. He quickly scanned the area both upstream and down beside the flowing water before picking a spot that had an opening in the thick canopy of trees. Whenever he was the one to choose a campsite, he tried to make it in a place where he could look at the stars without having to climb to the top of a tree to do it. He often needed to be on the ground to patrol the perimeter of a campsite and be close in case of danger.

By the time they had dismounted, moonlight was shining into the little clearing. The moon was only half full, so there wasn’t as much light as they would have preferred in this dark forest, but at least, there was light enough to see by.

Legolas turned to Aragorn. “Do we make a fire?”

“Yes. It’s safe enough. I’ve never seen any signs that orcs have ever even been in this forest.”

“There are other dangers besides orcs,” the elf reminded his companion.

“I know. Don’t worry,” Estel grinned, “I won’t let any big brown owls come and carry you away.” He laughed and slapped the archer on the back. He began looking around for some wood to build the fire. They hadn’t been able to have one for the last three days, in an effort to escape notice from unfriendly eyes---or noses. It would be nice to enjoy the warmth a blaze would provide. It was springtime, but the nights were still rather chilly. Of course, that didn’t effect Legolas, something the elf was fond of reminding his friend.

Legolas, as usual, tended the horses. He removed the packs, throwing Estel’s to him and dropping his own nearby. He took the saddle and bridle off of the ranger’s dark brown stallion and then removed the soft leather bridle from his own horse. He never used a saddle. Both horses followed him down to the stream and drank their fill. In the elven tongue, Legolas told them to eat all the grass they wanted but to stay close. They both nickered softly, as he stroked their necks and then pushed them away, gently slapping both on their rumps. The elf retuned to the clearing.

Aragorn was sitting down and looking through his pack. After a seemingly fruitless search, he slammed the pack down on the ground. “I don’t believe this,” he wailed.

Legolas stared at him. “What is it you do not believe?” He couldn’t imagine what the man was so upset about. Then, he said, “Did you use up all your pipe weed?” Anyone who knew Aragorn, knew how much he loved his pipe. Legolas hated the foul weed, but he didn’t begrudge Estel his enjoyment of it.

“No. I forgot to replenish the lembas.” He sighed loudly in exasperation. “This morning we finished off the last of the food we purchased two weeks ago, and now with no backup food there’s nothing to eat.”

Legolas burst out laughing. “An unprepared ranger. I wonder how Elladan and Elrohir will react to that piece of news.”

Aragorn pointed his finger at the elf and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare say one word to them about this. I couldn’t bear to hear about this for the rest of my days. And, you know that’s exactly what will happen.” There was a look of dread on his face.

“I will have to think about it.” Legolas paused and rubbed his chin, frowning in thought. “I am sure there is something you can do for me to buy my silence.”

“Buy your silence?” Aragorn squawked. “Why you backstabbing son of a....”

“King is the word you are looking for,” Legolas supplied smugly. He had the ranger in a bind, and he intended on making the most of it. “We can discuss a ‘deal’ at a later time.” He grinned wickedly. “Perhaps now, you should make us something on which to cook dinner.”

Aragorn just glowered at him. “What dinner?”

The elf took pity on the poor mortal, but not so much that he stopped himself from laughing again. "We are in a forest, Estel, there is food all around us.” He shook his head. “I will get us something to eat. Do not worry. You will not starve. You just tend to your little fire." His tone was patronizing but held a large measure of amusement.

Aragorn felt slightly foolish. No, he felt very foolish. He had been so angry with himself about the lembas that the idea of hunting for food had simply not entered his head. How ridiculous was that? No wonder Legolas was so amused and threatening to tell his brothers about this whole sorry incidenr. It was such a little thing really, yet he groaned inwardly to think again of what those twin terrors would do with that knowledge. They could take the smallest, most innocent of happenings and turn it into something that resembled a catastrophe. In the end, though, the ranger couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

Legolas had taken a few steps back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was watching, as Aragorn took several of the sturdy sticks he had gathered and began trimming them down. When he had finished, he took three of them, crossed them near the ends with a leather strip so that they formed a triangle. He did this with another set of three sticks. He set each pair on opposite sides of the fire. He got another branch that was long enough to reach each set of sticks. Whatever Legolas came back with would be skewered on the top stick, laid across the end pieces and roasted over the fire. The man’s mouth began to water just thinking about it.

“Well?” Aragorn asked, when he looked up and saw the elf just standing there, staring at him. “I thought you were long gone. Did you decide you lacked the skills to find something for us to eat?”

Legolas snorted. “As if that is ever going to happen,” he muttered so low he couldn’t be sure if Aragorn heard him or not. In a normal voice, he said, “I wanted to wait and see what you were going to make, so I would know what to catch.“ Eyeing the structure critically, he said, “A rabbit, I think.” With that declaration, he disappeared soundlessly into the dark forest.

The elf unslung his bow and fitted an arrow to it, as he headed away from the camp. He would be ready to down any edible creature that made its presence known to the elf’s keen senses.

Since he had mentioned a rabbit to Estel, he was hoping that was what he would be able to find and triumphantly bring back. He wasn’t above trying to get the best of his friend whenever the situation presented itself, providing the circumstances allowed for humor and were not overly serious in nature. To this end, he stopped every few yards to focus on the sounds around him.

Despite the recent humorous exchanges between himself and Estel the foreboding Legolas had been feeling was far from gone, but right now, beyond being alert to danger, he knew he had to concentrate on the immediate goal of finding something for dinner. He was not going to spend time trying to find a rabbit to the exclusion of any other food source.

The darkness wasn’t total yet, so his elven eyes pulled in all the bits of light that were available, making the surrounding forest appear to him as early twilight. It was only in absolute darkness, with no light to draw from, that the elf’s vision was rendered as useless as a mortal’s was in the darkness of an ordinary night.

Moving swiftly and yet with confidence in the unfamiliar forest, Legolas approached a particularly dense grouping of trees. After taking several more steps forward, he stopped suddenly.

Hearing something behind and slightly to the right of him, he turned around in time to see a large white rabbit scamper across his line of sight, moving right to left. Legolas grinned. It would indeed be rabbit for dinner.

The creature, running full tilt, disappeared behind the closest tree before the archer could fire. Legolas frowned that even with his incredible elven speed, he couldn’t get a shot off in time to bring it down. With a determination that this creature was not going to get away, he started after it.

Legolas was running after the rabbit as fast as he could go between the trees. He was as nimble as the rabbit and kept the little creature in sight but couldn’t stop long enough to aim his bow. The trees were too close together and allowed no opening for him to get a decent shot away. He tried that once and lost the rabbit for a moment before his keen sight picked up movement several yards father along. He kept his bow armed by firmly holding the arrow in place with his forefinger, as he gripped the bow in his left hand. He ran on.

Suddenly, the elf came around a large oak and saw a small clearing in front of him. He slowed and raised his bow before even spotting the rabbit. Then, he saw that the creature was just about to dash behind a tree on the other side of the clearing, when the archer fired. A direct hit.

He walked over to the fallen creature. Thoughts of roasted rabbit came to mind, and he smiled. Maybe, on the way back to camp he could spot some mushrooms or perhaps some edible berries to accompany the meat. He had hardly had the time to survey his surroundings for delicacies while dashing after the rabbit.

Just as Legolas started to reach down and pick the rabbit up, he stopped. His intuitive senses were now screaming at him that something was wrong---terribly wrong. The feeling was so strong, he couldn’t stifle a sharp intake of breath.

Before he could do more than register the feeling of intense dread that struck him full force, there was a noise behind him. He whirled around and was greeted by a flash of light in front of him that was so bright he had to turn his head away and put his right arm up to shield the painful assault on his eyes.

~*~*~

As he slept, Legolas felt very strongly that there was something frightening in or beyond the bright light that had flashed in front of him. He was poised on the very edge of finding out what that was. He knew it would take strength of will on his part to face it, but he was a warrior, one of the Firstborn, so he would meet this unknown terror with as much courage and dignity as he could muster.

The light vanished and to his utter surprise, he stared into---darkness. He frowned in frustration. Was the darkness part of what had really happened or was it just his own mind, afraid to reveal the truth about his experience in the forest. If it was the latter, it must have been something truly terrifying for his mind to hide that knowledge from the consciousness of someone as strong as he was.

Legolas clenched his fists, gripping the bed linen tightly in both hands. He found himself experiencing a fear he had never known before, and that alone frightened him even more.

TBC