A/N: First of all, let me apologize for the loooooong delay. My lame excuse is that I've been extremely busy with school, but truth be told, there has also been a bit of laziness on my part to get this written. *ducks flying vegetables* But seriously, thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited, put this on story alert, or have just been plain patient. Special thanks to Nifea, who gave me the nudge to write this chapter. :D You all are awesome! Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you get on to this meager chapter.

Aragorn peered into the darkness, trying to see what approached. Not for the first time did he wish that he had the keen abilities of the elves. The light from the fire cast only a small circle of light about the cave, for Aragorn had been afraid of alerting enemies to their presence.

A long moment passed. Aragorn held his breath, straining his ears for any foreign sound. Finally, he sat back down next to Legolas, placing his sword beside him. Aragorn checked Legolas. His wounds were slightly red, but that was to be expected. What worried him was the sweat that was beginning to drench the poor elf and the unnatural heat that was increasing in his skin.

"Wake, Legolas," Aragorn tried to prod the elf. "Drink some water." He held the water flask to Legolas' lips and poured in a small amount. His dismay rose when he saw most of it trickle out of the elf's mouth; only a fraction had gone down his throat.

"Legolas," Aragorn said urgently. "You must drink, mellon nin." The elf tossed and turned, and a moan escaped his lips.

A small thread of despair began to form in Aragorn's heart as he repeatedly tried—and failed, for the most part—to get Legolas to drink. He desperately wished that Legolas was lying in a soft bed in Rivendell, under the skilled care of Elrond. A small smile graced his lips for a moment as he imagined his adoptive father's reaction. He could picture the great elf lord throwing his hands up in the air and raising his eyes to the heavens—probably asking the Valar what he did to deserve this.

"Ara-Aragorn?" A weak voice interrupted the ranger's reverie.

"Legolas!" Aragorn quickly looked down at the elf to see pain-filled blue eyes looking at him. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." Legolas' lips turned up slightly at the corners, for he knew Aragorn would not believe the obvious but oft told lie.

True enough, Aragorn rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Elf…" he said warningly.

Legolas gave a small chuckle that turned into a harsh cough. "Very well. My injuries are…sore, and I feel hot and thirsty."

"That is good news!" Aragorn exclaimed with a smile. Legolas' mouth parted in disbelief and the ranger hastened to amend his words. "What I mean is, I am sorry your wounds are paining you, but I am glad to hear that you are thirsty. I could not get you to drink earlier."

Legolas grinned despite his pain. "I am glad to hear you are not wishing for my demise, mellon nín."

"Never, my friend." He turned to get the water flask. "Who would I tease who is startled by a tiny spider crawling in their hair—even though this same person slays countless horse-size spiders without batting an eye?"

"It was a big spider," muttered the elf. Aragorn laughed and helped his friend sit up slightly in order to drink. The elf sighed contentedly as the burning thirst in his throat was soothed. As Aragorn eased him back down, Legolas grabbed his arm.

"Estel?"

"Yes, my friend?" The ranger asked as he checked the elf's wounds yet again.

"Do you not sense it?"

Aragorn quickly looked up at Legolas' face worriedly. "Do you sense orcs, Legolas?"

The elf shook his head wearily. "Nay…but there is something…I cannot put my finger on it." His brow furrowed in concentration. "I do not know if it is evil or good, but there is something in this cave. It is confusing my senses."

Aragorn was silent for a moment. "A short while ago, when you were unconscious," he began, "I thought there might be something in the cave, but I saw nothing. I would think that if there were something, particularly something evil, it would have shown itself by now." He leaned over to stoke the fire. "Although…" He paused in thought.

"What?" Legolas asked.

"Earlier, I found you huddled against the wall there," he gestured. "You would not let me touch you at first. I thought it was just the fever…" Aragorn's voice trailed off. "Can you recall what you dreaming, Legolas?"

The elf closed his eyes in thought. "I remember I was walking in darkness, but it did not seem evil. At first it was almost pleasant."

Aragorn leaned forward with rapt interest. "At first?"

"Deep down, I felt there was something wrong," Legolas frowned. "Never have I had an encounter with an unnatural darkness that was not evil, and so I began to resist its feelings of contentment. As I tried to fight the darkness, I could feel surges of anger around me and my worst nightmares were flashing before my eyes."

Legolas' voice had dropped almost to a whisper, and Aragorn could see a faint sheen of tears covering his friend's eyes. He did not know what the elf's nightmares were, but Aragorn knew that whatever the elf had seen had affected him greatly.

"It was only a dream, mellon nín," Aragorn said comfortingly, as he grasped the elf's hand.

Legolas sighed. "That is what I keep telling myself, Estel, but I have this feeling that it is more than just a dream. And yet, I cannot tell whether we are in danger or not. One would think so from my dream, but—"

"Hush, Legolas." Aragorn laid a restraining hand on the elf's shoulder. "If we were in any immediate danger, I am sure that I would sense its presence. But now you must rest." He gave Legolas a mock glare.

"I will wake you, my friend," Aragorn said softly, seeing the fear in the elf's eyes.

"Very well," Legolas sighed and tried to relax. Aragorn watched as his friend's eyes began to droop and soon Legolas was sleeping. Aragorn frowned slightly to see that Legolas' eyes still remained closed. At least his dreams seemed undisturbed for the moment.

Aragorn leaned against the cave wall, alert for any sign that his friend was distressed. As he watched, the man thought carefully on Legolas' words. The ranger did not believe that there was an immediate threat, for the senses of an elf, even a wounded one, were incomparable when it came to sensing danger.

And yet…there was indeed something strange about the place. Aragorn began to feel frustrated at his inability to put his finger on the cause.

Sighing, Aragorn gazed at the fire. The flames flickered and danced in an almost hypnotic way. He began to feel his eyelids droop heavily and fought to stay awake. Dimly, the ranger felt a pang of fear in his sluggish brain. His limbs were heavy and limp; it almost felt as if he had been drugged.

Legolas, I have failed you, was his last conscious thought.

A/N: Yeah, it's pitifully short. The author notes are longer. :( Er, part of the reason for the delay is that I have no idea what is going to happen next. If you have any wishes or desires or ideas of what you think/want to happen, let me know! I need your input desperately!

Thanks for reading!