A/N I hope that this doesn't feel too abrupt or rushed. Parts of this chapter were giving me a real run for my money, but all the same, I hope that you enjoy!

A MAJOR thanks to all of you who read and reviewed this work, that means the world to me and I hope that you will check out my next story as well. Thanks again!

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter Six

"Who are you?" Legolas asked in confusion, trying to sit up on his own. He could not move his arms, however, and had to be content with simply staring at the stranger. The man's lips twisted up in a grin as he folded his arms across his chest. The cloak continued to float around him in some invisible breeze.

"Does it matter? You disturbed my home and I wanted to be here for your final moments." His voice was like the wind, everywhere and nowhere at once. Legolas frowned.

"You're not real!" he insisted, ignoring the blob that was Aragorn when he moved in front of his line of vision. Looking to the left, he somehow was not surprised when the vision had drifted there. His feet were nowhere near the ground and Legolas stared in disbelief. "I've gone crazy."

"No, you are simply the only one who can hear or see me. I've been following you and your little group of friends ever since you picked up Evangeline's locket from that thief. I'm the one that has been leading you in circles. You should have never touched the locket." The almost black eyes grew deadly and Legolas felt his heart skip a beat."

"We were trying to return it!" Legolas protested. "We didn't keep it!"

The spirit snorted, his cape billowing as the unseen wind picked up.

"Your filthy hands should never have touched it. For that you are going to die, you from the venom and your friends…well, let's just say that they shall never find their way home." He laughed, a cold, chilling laugh that sent a tingle down Legolas' spine."But I do appreciate you putting it back. Your blood was a pleasing homage to Evangeline."

Legolas stared quizzically at him. "You talk as though you were a man at some point. What are you? A ghost? A spirit?"

The man shrugged, floating down to stand next to Legolas. "I don't know for sure…A spirit, I assume." His smile faltered slightly and he pursed his lips. "I guess—I conjured too much dark magic. Each spell that I would cast left me a little less human than before and I slowly wasted away until I became this. Though I may not look it, I have been alive for longer than even you." He sank down to sit next to the elf and Legolas followed him with his eyes. "In the last few hours that you live, don't dabble in dark magic," he warned bitterly.

"So who was Evangeline?" Was Legolas' next question as he tried to piece the puzzle together. "Your wife? Your betrothed?"

"We were the happiest couple one had ever seen. Will you be leaving a girl behind?" The question was sharp and for a moment, he almost looked regretful. As Legolas shook his head, relief sprung into the spirit's black eyes.

"Just a lonely father who has already lost his wife. Just friends whom I've made promises too." Legolas challenged the spirit, staring him down. The spirit looked away, opening and shut his mouth several times as he decided if he should say more. Anger flashed across his face and Legolas had a distinct impression that this spirit or man or whatever he was, was insane.

"They killed her, you know." The spirit sank closer to Legolas, his lip curling up in a snarl. "Some bloody thieves, looking for treasure. We didn't have any, except that necklace. They killed her over it but they did not run fast enough. I killed them. I killed them and I cursed their bodies." The cold chuckle was back but it ended as quickly as it has started.

The spirit's eyes wandered back over to the modest little hut and Legolas followed his gaze. He almost thought he could see a fair, blond-haired maiden dancing around it, waiting for her husband to come home. She was beautiful and the emerald glistened in the sunlight.

"So where did you get the necklace?" Legolas asked, tilting his head to catch her shadow.

"It was a gift, an heirloom from my great-great-great-grandmother. It was passed down, mother to daughter, mother to daughter—until I came along. I was an only child so my mother passed it to Evangeline. And they killed her." The last words were dropped out of his mouth like they were poison and his cape begin to jerk about him as if caught in some grand wind.

"Haven't talked to anyone recently, have you?" Legolas raised an eyebrow, still trying to catch sight of the shadow of Evangeline.

"Oh no, I talked to the thief whom you found." A grin split the spirit's lips, showing small teeth. "Only we didn't have as nice of a conversation like this. He didn't live as long as you, but I know his last words and they weren't pretty."

"Unlike him, I am not a thief," Legolas protested again, wrenching his gaze back to where Aragorn was hovering over him.

The spirit smiled sadly. "My Evangeline was not a thief either."

"But—"

"No buts, it's just the way it's going to be." The spirit rose again, floating over the elf. Legolas followed him with his eyes.

"Please—at least let my friends go. I've paid the price for them."

The spirit sighed, looking back at Aragorn. He seemed to study him for a long time. "Your friends, they have tried hard and I must admit that I was impressed by them. Fine, I will have pity on you. I will allow your friends to leave here free-only when-they bury your body on this island. Your mine forever, young one."

Legolas locked eyes with the dark spirit.

"What if my friends heal me?"

The spirit paused, his eyes shadowing. "Heal you? They aren't going to do that."

"But if they are able to, will you let us all go?" Legolas bargained. "I mean, it can't hurt to make such a deal. After all, what are the chances of them actually being able to save me?"

The spirit laughed again, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been a long time since I've made such a deal. It will not end well, but I'll make it. If your friends can heal you, then you may all walk free." He rose and his outline began to blur. "I'll be back to witness your last moments. I want to be the last one to talk to you but-until then-goodbye, Elf. I suggest you enjoy your last few moments with your friends."

Leaning over the elf, he passed his hand over Legolas' eyes, sliding them closed. Legolas head nodded off to the side as the sudden sleep claimed him.

The spirit stood over the slumbering figure for a long while, watching as the human tried to do what he could to avail the elf's suffering. For a moment, a brief flicker of warmth warmed his blackened heart. Leaning against a nearby tree, he watched and waited.

AMATTEROFCIRCUMSTANCE

Legolas woke with a started gasp, his blood running cold in his chest. Raggedly rasping, he looked around and his eyes locked on Estel's. Aragorn was leaning over him, his hair askew and his eyes panicked. Sweat was dripping down his face but Legolas was shivering hard.

"Estel?"

"Oh thank the Valar!" Aragorn bent his head and brought his trembling hand up to Legolas' face.

"I thought—I thought that I had lost you. Don't you scare me like that again, don't you scare me." His voice was hoarse, the whisper harsh as his wide eyes traced the elf's face. "I thought we had lost you…"

Legolas groaned the ever-present ache in his body reminding him that it hadn't gone anywhere. Something— he had something important to tell the human, something about a blond hair woman. And a bloodstained cloak. And a man.

The memory was draining from his mind faster than he could latch onto it and he frowned. Something moved next to him and he jerked his head that way only for Aragorn to catch his chin and turn his head back towards him.

"Look at me, Legolas. How do you feel? You wandered there, for a moment." He gave Legolas a weak smile. Legolas remained staring at the spot for several seconds until Aragorn prompted him again. It must have been a trick of the wind, nothing else.

"I'm cold, Estel," he finally whispered between ragged breathes.

"Well, let's move you closer to the fire then," Aragorn said, biting back the note of fear that was in his tone. He looked over his shoulder but still no twins. The elf's grip was painfully tight on his hand and he gently enfolded their hands together. Sliding his arms around the elf, he shifted him closer to the warmth and propped him up against one of the packs. Scrambling to refill their water flask, he helped the elf drink a few sips.

The sounds of hurried footsteps sounded behind him and he bowed his head momentarily in relief, before twisting. The twins had returned with their arms crammed full of bottles and Elrohir gripped the silver box in one hand. Aragorn jumped to his feet, hurrying to help them bring their hoard towards the fire.

"We need a sample of whatever is on those fangs," Elladan explained curtly as he saw Aragorn giving the box the evil eye. Dumping the bottles carefully on the ground, they surrounded the injured elf.

"Be careful," Legolas whispered from where he sat, eyes closed and breathing heavy. "Those…those fangs hurt." They didn't laugh, but Elladan positioned the box carefully around an empty bowel before he pressed the emerald eye. They all held their breath as the snake's head jerked to the side, fangs descended with a whirl and snapped close atop the rim of the bowel. After a second, a sliver of liquid rolled off the tips.

They all stared at the small drops of milky white liquid, the cause of so much trouble and pain. A few more drops slid down the silver fangs

"We don't have a lot to work with," Elladan stated tightly, staring at the small amount of liquid.

"It's enough, it has to be." Aragorn insisted, glancing back the still elf. Legolas wasn't moving and fear lurched in his heart.

"Stay awake, Legolas," he commanded, his fingers finding the elf's pulse point. His heart was beating weakly and Legolas' eyelids fluttered but did not open. "Wake, elf," Aragorn tried again more desperately.

"Let him be, we need to work on this," Elladan called over as he tossed Aragorn one of the jars.

"His pulse is slowing, his heart is going to give out," Aragorn warned as he broke the seal.

Carefully Elrond's sons separated the venom into separate piles without touching it.

"What if the anti-venom isn't here?" Elrohir dared to ask as they began to break open the jars to reveal their mysterious contents. He screwed up his face as he cracked open a jar that smelled particularly bad. The others didn't answer, increasing the speed of their work. Upon opening a sealed jar that was clearly ale, Aragorn did not hesitate to take a large swallow. When Elladan tossed him an angry look, he only shrugged.

"I'm nervous, alright?" he insisted. Elrohir only shook his head.

"You are completely hopeless."

After an hour, they had narrowed the bottles down to five possible choices. Rearranging the small drops of venom into similar piles, they gently doused them with liquid from each bottle and waited. Almost immediately one out of the five potions began to eat at the poison, destroying it.

"Oh, thank the Valar…" Aragorn fell back onto his haunches washing a hand across his face. It continued to destroy the venom and he reached out, shaking Elrohir's shoulder roughly. "Thank the Valar."

"Don't say your thanks, yet," Elrohir cautioned, watching anxiously as Elladan turned to Legolas with the bottle in hand. The elf was completely unconscious, his head hanging limply off to the side.

"But we are better off than we were ten minutes ago," Elladan reminded his brothers as he cushioned the elf's head in the crook of his arm and began to administer the antidote drop by drop. "Cut into that hand and we will see if can give him a bit of head start."

Aragorn began to unwind the bandages that encased Legolas' arm. The limb had swollen enough that the bandages were cutting into the flesh, leaving impressive marks after they were removed. As Aragorn washed the hand with warm water, Elrohir prepared the knife. While it was sterilizing in the fire, he began to prepare a paste that contained a healthy dose of the antidote.

"Careful," Elrohir insisted as he passed the knife over. He held Legolas' hand still as Aragorn made a gentle cut into the puffed up and bruised skin. Instantly blood and pus began to gush out, staining the ground a dark color. When the wound stopped dripping blood, Aragorn spread the paste liberally across his skin.

They sat there in silence for several minutes until Elladan sat back, recapping the bottle. "Well, that's that…Now, all we can do is wait."

"That's the hard part," Elrohir gripped as his lips twisted into a sad smile.

Anxiously they waited for some sort of change, any change. Morning came and went with Aragorn pacing back and forth, biting at his nails as Legolas slept on, showing little or no sign of improvement. Elladan and Elrohir alternated between pacing and searching the hut. When mid-afternoon came they repeated their procedure, but still, nothing had happened. They continued to wait. Waited for his pulse to drop or return to normal, for his breathing to lighten up or to fail, for his eyes to open or remain permanently closed.

"You're driving me crazy with all that pacing!" Elrohir finally exclaimed, glaring up at his brother as Aragorn passed him by and bent down to check his friend's pulse. Rising again, Aragorn shrugged, his fingers playing nervously with the hem of his jacket. Elrohir heaved a sigh. "Go find Elladan and see if you can find any more ale. I promise I'll call you if anything changes."

After another ten minutes and five more pleas from Elrohir, Aragorn made his way back into the deserted hut. It was still as strange as last time but Elladan had managed to rearrange everything into sorted piles. A stack of alphabetized books was tilting dangerously in the corner and several dolls with tattered dresses were lined up against them. The paintings were stacked against the wall. Elladan was knee deep into a pile of silks and satins and he appeared to be sorting them by color.

Aragorn smiled grimly at his brother. Elladan smiled gently in return.

"Here," he said as he tossed a wad of grey material at his brother. "You can find all of these. You don't know how to wear anything but black and grey anyway." Aragorn snorted, running the cloth through his fingers.

"Hey." He looked up at Elladan's voice and found his older brother giving him a concerned look. "It's going to work out. He will live."

Aragorn didn't know how long they were in there before Elrohir's call reverberated throughout the island. The dark green cotton that Aragorn had been folding and preparing to place in a trunk with the rest of the green material slipped through his fingers and he was off and running

AMATTEROFCIRCUMSTANCE

Everything was vague when Legolas awoke next. He didn't miss the marsh, he knew that much. The feeling of having dry, firm ground under his aching body was a pleasing sensation, though it would be nicer if the Oliphant would have the decency to get off his chest. He could hear voices above his head and he could tell from their tones that they were worried about something.

He tried to pry his eyes open, but they were too heavy. The voices grew louder and something warm slid down his throat. All went dark again.

Aragorn was talking next to him and his hand was pressing against Legolas' chest before he began to tuck the edges of the blanket around him tighter. He was humming ever so softly and he wasn't surprised when the twins joined in. It was a mournful song that was often sung in the Halls of Fire.

A third voice, a voice he only distantly recognized, spoke directly in his ear.

"Well bargained, elf. You are free to go."

The words made little sense to his tired brain and he refocused his attention on his friend's familiar voices. A strong wind swept over him and he slipped back into dreams, dreams of a haunted dark man and a beautiful woman.

He drifted for a while longer, allowing consciousness to tug at him, but never fully giving in. Pain was coursing throughout his body and he did not doubt that it would be more painful awake rather than asleep. When he finally did choose to face the pain, the sun was just beginning to go down. The grass beneath him smelled sweet though the odor of the foul marsh was lingering. He did not doubt that that had something to do with the fact that he had taken more than one dunking in the marsh. Or maybe they hadn't left the marsh. He didn't remember.

He was lying on his side, propped up by someone's pack, next to the embers of a dying fire. The others were still talking in low voices, clearly believing him to be asleep. Legolas' chest hurt less but that did not mean that it was natural for everything to hurt this much. Holding his breath, Legolas waited for the pain to pass and the voices around him faltered. They were waiting, waiting for something to happen. Legolas let his breath out again as the pain faded, and the voices picked back up again…strange, Legolas couldn't help musing.

Legolas' mind drifted again, but not for as long or as deep. The next time he came back, he felt ready to greet the world and, he was positive, a very anxious human and set of twins. Sure enough, when he blinked his eyes open, there was Aragorn sitting just a few feet away.

"What time is it?" Legolas asked weakly, clearing his throat and almost instantly regretting the motion as his throat burned and his breathing hitched. Aragorn jumped, a smile bursting across his face as he twisted around.

"More like, what day is it?" Aragorn teased easily, dropping the spoon back into the pot he was stirring. Turning around, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled loudly for Elladan.

"Don't tell me that it has been days?" Legolas groaned, wincing as the sunlight began to make his head pound. Moving sluggishly, he flung an arm over his face. Aragorn smiled, laughing.

"No, I'm joking. You've been sleeping for about 32 hours, but not days."

Legolas stared at the human for a minute, lifting his arm just high enough to see the man. "What?" he asked, still trying to work through the fog in his brain. Aragorn chuckled, shaking his hair out his face as he moved to stand over the elf.

"Aragorn, don't pull his leg! He doesn't understand a good joke when he is at full mental capacity and currently, well-" the voice came from behind him, and Legolas twisted his head to see Elrohir grinning and lounging in a tree while eating a piece of fruit.

"Uncalled for…" Legolas stated through a parched throat. "Elladan, what day is it?"

Elladan had just appeared over Aragorn's shoulder. His face was contorted between a smile and exasperation. "Aragorn wasn't lying earlier. It only has been about thirty hours since you began to improve."

"—and let me just say that you still gave us a few scares since then," Aragorn muttered under his breath, giving the contents of the pot a violent stir before dishing it up.

"You all are going too fast…" Legolas struggled to sit up, the trees around him dancing in a circle as his vision spun. "Just—" He clenched his eyes shut and a moment later a hand pressed up against his back, keeping him steady.

"Alright, alright, we'll slow it down," Elrohir ++++elongated the word, making Elladan chuckle softly. Legolas resisted the urge to shake his head and squinted up at his friends.

"Here, eat and regain your strength." A warm plate was settled into his lap and a spoon in his hand. It looked like mush but, all the same, he dipped his spoon into the thick contents.

"Just know this, Legolas," Aragorn began grimly enough but Legolas knew him well to hear the grin in his voice. "This little swamp of yours has been more trouble than it was worth. I think I shall have to reconsider ever visiting you here."

"This—This isn't my marsh!" Legolas protested as loudly as he could, which wasn't very loud. "I—"

"Aragorn! Don't tease the dear elf, just because he is fancy and can't—"

"I'm not fancy! I heard you complaining just as much as I was."

"I don't know about that…"

"I'm going to have to agree with Elladan. It was your sweet voice that we heard moaning and groaning the whole way about your boots getting dirty. I mean, it's not our fault that we are taller than you are. Next time simply have taller boots made."

"I like my boots! They are fine the way that they are."

"Are they?"

AMATTEROFCIRCUMSTANCE

They rested on the little island for over three days until Legolas had regained back some of his strength. Leaving hesitantly the friends were more than a little surprised when within the hour they were standing on real land. The sons of Elrond wasted no time in ordering Legolas to rest again before the trip back home.

They never did figure out the story behind the cursed necklace. Neither Elrond nor Thranduil was able to explain it when their respective sons returned home (Legolas did a bit of creative editing when he told his story). Legolas was known for years afterward to insist that it had to do with dark magic and a tragic love story. Why he thought so, he was never quite able to say.

Afterward, Aragorn half expected to find a cursed island with a strange little hut every time he passed through that marsh, but it was never to be. The marsh remained gnat-infested, cold, and wet, but only fifteen miles long.

THE END

That's it, folks! But I do have another piece in the works that is almost done. In case you are wondering, it involves caves, assassins, and butterflies. Though not necessarily in that order. :) It should be up in a few weeks, but until then, I would love to hear your comments! Drop off a review and let me know what you thought was good and what you thought needed improvement. :)

Thanks again!