Aragorn woke and gingerly looked around. His head throbbed and his body ached. He was in a small hollow in the ground, his body hidden beneath branches and leaves. He had obviously had the strength and presence of mind to conceal himself before passing out after the orc attack. He groaned as memories of the previous day came back to him. The fellowship had reached Amon Hem and the decision had yet to be made as to their path. In his own heart the choices had warred between his urge to go to his people in Gondor and the oath he had taken to protect Frodo. And then they had noticed that both Frodo and Boromir were missing. They had set off running into the woods, all foolishly going their separate ways in the worry to find the ringbearer, the cautiousness had been overcome. It had not been long before Aragorn had discovered the boy of the hobbit, lying on the ground, no effort had been made to conceal it and even before he had bent down to check he had known that the ring would no longer be found around Frodo's neck. It was his concern for the ring that had undone him. As he knelt by the body orcs had come upon him. They had obviously expected him to be here, and as he knelt consumed by his grief he had been beset from all sides.

He remembered fighting and the orcs surrounding him. But he had done his best and many had fallen as Anduril was wielded by Isildur's heir. He supposed that at some stage during the fight he must have been hit, and hesitantly raising his hand to his head he confirmed this as he felt a gash which lay along his temple. He stood up, no sounds were coming from his surroundings, and he felt sure that the danger had now passed, how long he had lain there he was not certain, but the orcs must have gone on, taking their spoils with them. It was as he rose to his feet and the world started spinning around him, he remembered something that should have been at the forefront of his mind. The weapons that orcs used, like those with which he had been struck, were normally coated with a deadly poison. As his vision went black, he collapsed to the ground, defeated and feeling that there was no hope left.

---

With a groan Aragorn stirred, and twisted where he lay. Slowly he opened his eyes, the movement coming slowly and seeming to take far more energy than would be expected for so small a thing. He could feel a soft mattress below him, and his body was covered in light material of sheets. His body....cautiously he tested his movements, he could use all his limbs, and the pain he had felt on his last awakening had gone, replaced now only by a slight stiffness and weariness in his joints. His movements had not gone without notice in the room, and a figure came to his side. Still confused and disbelieving, Aragorn looked up into the face he knew so well. "Ada?" he asked, scarcely willing to believe it. He had been on the quest, surely, he could not now be back in Rivendell with his adoptive father.

As his thoughts went to the quest, Aragorn shot up in the bed where he lay. It was only the restraining hand that Elrond placed on his shoulder that prevented him from leaping from the bed. His head began to swim with the sudden movement, and reluctantly he allowed the elf to push him back onto the pillows, contenting himself with questioning his protector.

"What happened?" He screwed up his forehead as he tried to piece together the last movements of the fellowship. "We reached Amon Hen, and then, Frodo?"

A shadow passed over Elrond's face as he looked own in concern on his adoptive child. He had never wished to be the one to cause this man pain, but he must tell him what had happened. His voice was soft as he gave Aragorn the information he had dreaded to hear. "Alas Estel, it is as you remember, you have spoken in your sleep and fevered dreams as you have laid here. At Amon Hen you were beset by orcs, five of those who remained of your fellowship perished. We heard of this evil too late, and with the help of Gwaihir came to your aid, but it was too late. We found the bodies of the dwarf and the hobbits."

Aragorn cried out to hear the news. Those hobbits who he had brought to Rivendell from Bree. With them he had shared a perilous journey, and he felt that he was responsible for bringing them into this quest, and now for their fate. His head bowed fighting to keep the tars from coursing down his cheeks, Elrond's hand upon his shoulder tightened its grip momentarily offering the support of one who has seen these things before and knows the terror of the Dark Lord. He continued his tale,

"We found you nearby, you had taken many wounds and were near death yourself, if we had not returned you here, I think that you too would have perished. As it is you have been lying in my care for over three months now. The poison present within your body was grievous and there were many times within those first weeks that I feared I would lose you Estel. But you were true to your name and have returned to me. At least there is something in all this that I may be thankful for."

Aragorn raised a questioning gaze to the elf. "You spoke of five bodies, and then there is me. But what of the other two? What of Legolas and Boromir, how did they fare?"

"Alas, these tidings are evil my son. Boromir survived the battle", and at these words Aragorn released a shout of joy which was cut short as he glimpsed the pain in Elrond's eyes. "He survived it is true and returned to his fathers side in Minas Tirith. But Aragorn, with him he took two treasures. He is now the bearer of the one ring, and has thrown down his father and set himself up as King of Gondor. And with him was another treasure that I know is dear to your heart. We did not find Legolas' body and at first feared that he had been captured by the orcs, but instead we have found that he was taken to Minas Tirith with Boromir. How this came to pass we do not know for Legolas would never willingly give himself to one in the power of a dark force as Boromir is. For he is now under the power if the ring. While he is not subject to the dark Lord I fear that he may become one himself. While not as powerful for he is only a man, he is still something we must fear. Between him and Sauron the southern lands of Middle Earth are now doubly accursed."

---

Some months later a lone rider set off from Rivendell, His cloak pulled up concealing his face, and travel-stained boots all that was exposed below it. His head was bowed as if he were weary already, and indeed the enormity of the task which he had set himself weighed heavily upon his mind. So Aragorn left Rivendell, with one purpose in his mind, to seek put Boromir in Minas Tirith and to find Legolas and release him. His talks with Elrond had convinced him that he was the only one who could succeed in this task. No elves could pass into the realm of Gondor without revealing themselves to the wielder of the one ring, so it was left to the race of men to try and solve this problem. Aragorn would dearly have loved to be able to call upon the help of the Rohirrim in his quest, but the long friendship that existed between Gondor and Rohan led him to believe that this could not be achieved. He knew that if he could truly prove that he were the rightful King of Gondor, Theoden would aid him, but Theoden was under the spell of Saruman as Gandalf had reported to Elrond, and would be unwilling to trust a ranger from the wilds.

Aragorn rode many days and nights allowing himself rest only when his mount needed it, and always spurring him on was the thought of Legolas, his Legolas, held by Boromir within the walls of Minas Tirith, and so around two months after he left Rivendell, Aragorn was rewarded by the site of the white City standing proudly in front of him in the dying light of the day. Knowing that the gates would be shut to all comers after dusk he made camp, relieved at the thought that tomorrow he would finally get close to Legolas he slept more soundly than he had since he learnt of the Prince's fate.

Perhaps it was the deepness of this sleep, or some magic exerted by the power of the one ring, but Aragorn even with his instincts as a ranger did not hear the men of Gondor as they surrounded him where he lay. Smiling they removed his horse from where it was tethered and the rangers possessions were also secured for their master had ordered them to retrieve all that the man carried. Finally when all else was secure, their leader took a step forward and drew his sword, bringing the cold tip to rest on the ranger's neck just below his Adam's apple. Softly he pushed the blade slightly, rewarded by a small trickle of blood and the sight of the ranger's eyes shooting open with alarm. Instinctively Aragorn reached for Anduril which he had laid beside him, but his hand found nothing and the increased pressure at his neck warned him against any further movement. His eyes took in the garrison of men that filled the clearing and he nodded his head in submission. He knew that it would be hopeless to try and resist this force, and that he should try and save his strength for later. Smiling at the ease of this capture the guards roughly dragged Aragorn's hands behind him and firmly bound them allowing little blood to circulate and causing a dull ache in his shoulders to begin immediately. They dragged him to his feet, and he moved with them, allowing them their way hoping to lull then by his humility into allowing him the chance of escape. However, the men had been warned that their prey was greatly skilled, and although happy to have captured him so easily wished to make it appear as if their skill in this had been greater so that a greater reward may be forthcoming form their master. Before Aragorn knew what was happening he had been struck from behind, and without the use of his hands to aid him, he fell forwards to his knees. The men surrounding him set upon him and he was defenceless against their kicking and punching. Curling into a ball he tried to protect himself, but there were too many of them attacking him from all angles, and the last he knew was a pain throughout his whole body, no longer able to identify new pain from each beating administered.