With a voice as loud as the Falls of Rauros and a light like three Suns come to Earth, the Fire of Orthanc was kindled at the very feet of the defenders. Halbarad and the sons of Elrond were thrown off their feet, fetching up against the cliff wall.

"Back!" Aragorn shouted, taking command. "Into the cave."

The small company of Rangers retreated into the mountain at the young Man's orders. Ellandan and Elrohir were already on their feet when Aragorn stooped beside Halbarad and turned the Ranger Chief over. Halbarad was unconscious and the Orcs were swarming forward in the wake of the blast. Hoisting his comrade to his shoulder, Isildur's Heir met the eyes of the twins in turn.

"Go," Elrohir said, unlimbering his bow. "I will hold them as long as I may."

Elladan was silent, but his gaze was eloquent. He would not leave his brother.

"Give us a few moments cover," Aragorn said, driven by desperate need to abandon his foster-brothers, "then follow us as quickly as you may. This mountain was once inhabited and Dwarves do not build homes with only one entrance."

Elrohir nodded and clapped Aragorn's shoulder. "Go, little brother," the warrior said. "See where Greenleaf awaits you. Do not make him wait or you will lose him, Estel."

Ellandan smiled at his twin's gentle teasing of their human sibling. Aragorn imagined that his fascination with the pale Prince of Mirkwood was a secret and neither the twins nor Arwen ever alluded directly to it, but they were not above affectionate ribbing. Unaware of his foster-brother's innocent humor at his expense, Aragorn turned and hurried toward Legolas.

"Help me," Aragorn called out.

When the Man reached him, Legolas helped shoulder Halbarad's limp weight, and they moved deeper into the cave. The farther in they went the smoother the walls felt until they reached a place where their outstretched hands met only air.

"Narwain?" Aragorn called softly.

"Here, Aragorn," a Man answered.

"Make a light," said Isildur's Heir and the sound of flint striking steel was heard.

A spark landed on a torn strip of cloak wrapped around a spearhead. The point of light smoldered and then flared, illuminating the faces of Narwain, Girithron and Hithuil.

"Where are Cerveth and Lothron?" Aragorn asked.

"Scouting," Narwain answered.

"Let us follow them," Aragorn said. "We cannot tarry."

"Where are the Elven brethren?" Girithron asked.

"Buying our lives," Aragorn answered shortly. "Run!"

They caught the scouts and proceeded in an orderly fashion until they could smell fresh air. Dispersing quickly from a half-blocked Dwarf-made entrance the band of Rangers cautiously took cover until the new ground could be assessed for present dangers. Aragorn lowered Halbarad to the ground behind a boulder and looked swiftly around.

When Legolas made no move to scout the terrain, Aragorn glanced up at his companion. The Elf stood still, which was not unusual, but the quality of the stillness was unfamiliar. This was not Sindarin serenity, or the patience of a Tracker, neither the gravity of Royalty, nor any other of the countless modes of stillness to which Elves were prone.

"Prince?" Aragorn said as the first Goblin arrow came out of the dark.

Makeshift torches were quickly doused as the Rangers retreated to the choked ingress of the abandoned Dwarf dwelling. Reaching the first sound door, they bolted and barred it and turned to defend it. When several minutes pass without further sign of attack, Aragorn knelt beside Halbarad and ran his fingers over the Man's scalp.

"Will I live?"

Aragorn jumped at the sound of the older Dunedain's voice. "Aye," he smiled in relief. "To fight another day, more's the pity."

"I thought I heard you calling me," Halbarad said. "And then I woke up."

"I was not calling you," Aragorn said. "You were dreaming, Hal. Now take some rest. We are trapped here for the time being."

Halbarad did not wish to sleep, but he agreed to rest quietly. Cloaks were piled for the Chief Ranger to lie upon, and the others gathered round to sit upon the floor around him. Aragorn watched Legolas move away from the minimal light of the torches that still occupied the sconces. The Elf stayed close to the wall and moved slowly. After seeing that the Men were settled, Isildur's Heir went searching for Legolas.

The Prince did not turn as the light of Aragorn's torch illuminated the small chamber he had found. Purposely, the Ranger scraped a boot sole against the stone, and Legolas whirled. Aragorn stopped dead at the glimmer of wetness on the Elf's pale cheeks.

"What troubles you?" the young Man asked bluntly.

"Naught, my eyes are but dazzled by your light," Legolas made an Elvish joke.

Aragorn was not reassured. Curiously, he waved his torch in front of the Prince's face. Legolas did not react.

"What is wrong?" Aragorn asked again.

The Prince's proud head drooped. "I cannot see," he said in a voice with all of its bones broken.

"'Twas the light of the blast, was it not?" the Ranger asked briskly, keeping any hint of pity from his voice.

Legolas nodded mutely.

"And you were able to hide it until now because we were all in the dark," Aragorn said. "Do not worry. If you do not wish the others to know, I will say nothing."

The Prince swung his head toward the sound of the Ranger's voice. "My thanks," he said.

"Is there aught I may do for you?" Aragorn asked.

"I would not say no to company," Legolas surprised him by saying.

Aragorn opened his pack and removed a lembas wafer. Breaking it in half, he offered a piece to the Elf. After a moment, the Ranger put the waybread in Legolas' hand.

"You seem to have found some sort of storeroom," Aragorn said. "Give me a moment, and I will make a comfortable place to sit."

Aragorn spread his cloak over the remains of a mattress made of layers of felt. Guiding the Elf to the pallet, the Ranger bade him sit and eat. Aragorn sat and nibbled at his wafer, interspersed with sips from his waterskin.

Knowing that Legolas could not see him gave the Ranger freedom to gaze upon the lovely face to his heart's content. How the Man wished he had the right to trace the sweet curves of the sculpted lips and then cover them with his own. He knew the drift of snowy hair would flow over his fingers like silk floss, if he dared run them through it. The fine-pored skin was smooth as porcelain, but Aragorn knew it would be far warmer to the touch.

Leaning furtively closer, Aragorn drew a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the elusive, intoxicating fragrance that rose from the Prince's flesh. It was a scent impossible to describe, but more pleasing than any perfume ever distilled and it drew the Man the way the sea called to the Galadrim.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked curiously.

Aragorn moved back. "I beg your pardon? Would you like more lembas?"

The Prince shook his head. "I am not hungry."

"There are worse things than blindness," Aragorn said abruptly.

"For an archer?"

"You will cope, Prince; of that I am sure."

"It is kind of you to sit and comfort me, Estel."

"It is my pleasure," Aragorn said without thinking. "I wish I might spend more time in your company, Your Highness."

Legolas smiled and the young Man felt as though he'd won a great victory.

"El and Ro call me Lasse," Legolas said. "Why do you not?"

"They call you Greenleaf when you cannot hear," Aragorn confided.

Legolas smiled again. "Do they indeed?" he said. "Wait until I see them . . ."

Aragorn sighed at the unfortunate turn of phrase that ruined his careful work. Legolas' lightening mood plummeted again. Isildur's Heir said the first thing he could think of to distract the Elf from his gloomy thoughts.

"I cannot call you Lasse because I could never be that casual with you," the Ranger said. "You shine far too brightly for me to look at you directly."

"That is a lovely thing to say," Legolas said. "Are you looking at me right now?"

"Yes," Aragorn confessed. "Shall I tell you what you look like to me?" he asked, and plunged ahead without waiting for an answer. "You are as lovely, pure and perfect as the first morning of the world."

"I did not know Men possessed tongues of such sweetness," Legolas said. "I wish I could see your face."

"Here," Aragorn said, taking the Prince's hand in his and raising it to his face.

The Man let go of the Elf's hand and Legolas let his fingers trail down the bearded cheek. Aragorn shivered as the delicate touch skimmed his jaw and continued down his throat.

"Are you cold?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn almost shook his head, but answered aloud instead. "A little," he lied.

"Sit closer to me," the Prince invited. "You will be warmer."

Not without some trepidation, Aragorn moved so that he sat with his knees touching the Elf's. The gentle pressure of the Prince's leg against his caused the Ranger's Manhood to stir. Embarrassed, Aragorn held as still as possible while Legolas explored his face.

"How soft your lips are," Legolas said, "and how rough your beard. Men. Even your appearance is at odds with itself."

Aragorn opened his mouth to reply and the Elf's slim fingers slipped inside. Unable to resist, the Ranger drew them deeper in, sucking gently before letting go. Legolas pulled his hand back with a soft sound that was difficult to interpret.

"Forgive me," the Man said.

"You are forgiven," the Elf said. "'Twas not unpleasant."

Aragorn sighed when Legolas reached out again, the Elf's hand cupping a rounded ear and thumbing it in fascination. The Prince ran his fingers through the Man's tangled hair and down the back of his neck. Aragorn shifted to accommodate Legolas and the Elf drew the Man around to rest against his chest.

Aragorn settled back happily as Legolas' cool fingers slid under his tunic and ruffled the hair on his chest. The Man did not speak or fidget lest he break the spell, as the Elf's hands roamed at will, over and under clothing. Legolas had never touched a human before and the heady liberty Aragorn allowed him distracted him from his sightlessness.

Isildur's Heir let his head fall back to rest on the shoulder of the descendant of Oropher. Legolas' hands moved lower and it was harder for Aragorn to refrain from reacting. When the Elf's fingers brushed the Ranger's arousal through his leggings, Aragorn flinched. Legolas paused in his exploration and returned to the intriguing swell of flesh.

The Ranger bit his lip hard and the Elf's fingers pressed against his erection to identify the form. The archer's hand gripped the hard, curved shape quite naturally and Aragorn gasped. Legolas squeezed and stroked until it abruptly occurred to him that dagger hilts were not so resilient, but he did not let go right away.

Legolas found that he liked the way the hard length of flesh felt in his fist. The firm roundness was warm against his palm even through the layer of woolen fabric. The Elf wondered what the Man's organ would feel like without the barrier of cloth. Emboldened by the darkness, Legolas slipped a hand under the waistband of the soft leggings.

Aragorn stifled a groan as questing fingers found his Manhood and tested its texture. Calluses formed in hours of archery practice scraped against sensitive skin with a delicious friction. Aragorn could not help it. His release came upon him so fast; he could do nothing to stop it, or to warn the Elf.

"Goblins!" Narwain shouted as Isildur's Heir clenched his jaw tightly to hold in his shout of joy as his shaft erupted.

Legolas let go of the hard length just before the Ranger spilled his seed. "Our companions need you," the Elf said.

"I hear," Aragorn said breathlessly, still awash with bliss. "Come, I will lead you to a place where you will be under cover and I can see you."

"Thank you, Estel," Legolas said, looking somewhere over the Ranger's shoulder. "For watching over me and for keeping me from feeling helpless."

"You may thank me by calling me Aragorn," the Man said. "I like the sound of it with a Mirkwood accent."

Aragorn took the Elf's hand, thrilling to think that it had so lately caressed him, and led the Prince out into the larger chamber. Neither spoke as Aragorn guided Legolas to a sheltered place and stood in front of it with sword drawn. Before him, in a semi-circle facing the door, stood the other Rangers with weapons in hand.

As they stood, nerves singing, poised for attack there was a noise from behind them. The company turned as one, weapons at the ready and stared at Elladan and Elrohir. The twins gazed mildly back at their comrades and then exchanged an inscrutable glance.

"How far behind you are the Orcs?" Aragorn asked.

"I should give Elladan the honor of telling the tale," Elrohir said. "It was his shot that vanquished our enemy."

"Vanquished?" Aragorn repeated incredulously.

"Vanquished," Elladan said laconically.

Elrohir smiled faintly. "The Orcs had a Troll among them, which seemed to annoy my brother for he fired many arrows at the monster. I think Elladan must have tired or run short of ammunition for at this point he shot the beast somewhere that would do some good. The Troll tried to pluck the shaft from its eye, but it must have forgotten the stone hammer it carried. The hammer struck the roof, which was already weak, and the passage collapsed upon our foes. With one blow, Elladan destroyed our enemy."

Aragorn smiled in appreciation of the Elvish humor. "Then we have no hostiles to our rear?"

"Not at present," Elrohir said. "And I believe there are more exits to this warren. Shall we leave this prize to the goblins and seek another door?"

"Gladly," Aragorn said, reaching for Legolas' hand.

The twins gave their human brother matching curious looks as the Man placed the Mirkwood Elf's hand on his shoulder and started off.

"Well come on," Aragorn said. "Let's be out of this mountain before night falls."

The Elven brethren led their comrades swiftly down passageways narrow and wide until stirring air told them they were traveling in the right direction. They emerged from the abandoned Dwarf dwelling just moments before the Sun went down. The Rangers and the twins hurried down the slope, but Aragorn stopped when he felt Legolas' hand fall.

The Man turned and saw the Prince staring at the setting ball of fire with tears running down his face. "Legolas?" he said softly.

"Aye, Aragorn?"

"You can see."

"Aye, Aragorn."

"That is wonderful," the Ranger said. "Shall we join our comrades?"

Legolas nodded and sprang away. He did not know why he had not told the Man that his sight had returned in the cave when the Man touched him. It was plain that Isildur's Heir was heir not only to the throne of Gondor, but to the ancient healing power as well.

The Elf let the Ranger move ahead of him and studied the Man's form as they ran. This mortal intrigued him now in a way he had never experienced. It was more than the fascination that Legolas had for any living thing and it was not simply the call of flesh to flesh for the purpose of pleasure and procreation.

No, there was more there and Legolas looked forward to seeing what it was.

The end.