Aragorn's face froze into stone as the orcs dropped Legolas in a nearby clearing. He attempted to gather some pride, for clearly Legolas had fought viciously for his freedom. But they now had as much likelihood of escaping as they did of retrieving the waxing moon sinking behind the western mountains. They were surely headed for Isengard.

Aragorn tried not to wince as an orc kicked Legolas, but he became alarmed when the elf did not stir. After several more sharp kicks, he began to wake, but Aragorn's relief was short-lived.

"Get up, you lazy elf! We didn't hit you that hard!" The orc grabbed Legolas and hauled him up to face a scowling Uglúk. Legolas blinked then flinched as his eyes flew open. Aragorn dreaded what would come next.

Uglúk stepped toward Legolas with narrowed eyes. He chuckled slowly. "Thought you'd make a run for it, eh? Had no problem leaving your friends behind, didn't ya? Not so stupid as I thought. But stupid enough to need a lesson!" The uruk playfully slapped the beast beside him, snickering gleefully.

Aragorn prayed that the Valar would give Legolas strength now, but he had no misconceptions of his own strength. He closed his eyes to the scene, resting his head on his knees.

Suddenly, strong hands clamped onto Aragorn's shoulders and dragged him to his feet, as another orc did the same to Gimli. They brought the two to Uglúk, where Legolas kneeled limply at his side, a stub of a black arrow still embedded in his bloody thigh.

Two more torches had been brought to the area, shedding light on Legolas's vacant expression. If they had knocked him unconscious, the beating must have been severe. Combined with blood loss, he might be going into shock.

"Oh, I do love teaching lessons!" The orc glared at Aragorn and Gimli, and his tone turned hostile. "Especially to bloody mortals we must keep alive!" He looked back at Legolas. "And now for your first lesson! Do your work, Machlhug!"

A hand struck Aragorn across the face, the sting vying with Aragorn's shock. Then came a punch to his side. He heard a grunt and glanced at Gimli. How clever the orcs were. He had expected them to force Gimli and him to watch Legolas beaten in punishment. Somehow, they had discerned that Legolas would suffer more to watch Aragorn and Gimli beaten.

Aragorn worried briefly over the intelligence the uruks displayed. But a kick to the head, followed by a strike to his injured leg cleared those thoughts from his mind.

Once the orcs tired of the lesson, Aragorn lay still, waiting for the world about him to stop spinning and the white lights before his eyes to fade. Soon he made out Gimli's figure not far from him, catching his breath as he lay on the ground. And further on was Legolas, still held in place by the orc, his eyes squeezed shut. Now the orcs that had abused them turned to Legolas.

Uglúk smiled then. "Maybe you've learned your lesson, huh?" He grabbed Legolas by the hair and forced the elf to stand on his one good leg and face him. "Have ya? You think you've learned your lesson about escaping?" Legolas returned only a stony stare, and Uglúk let out a bark of laughter. "Perhaps you haven't. I think you need more teaching!"

Aragorn's stomach turned, not knowing what would come now. His head still swam, and he was uncertain how much more he could endure before unconsciousness overtook him.

But Aragorn was not the one in danger. Uglúk threw the elf to the ground, his shackles clinking. The uruk took a deep breath through his nostrils. "Do you smell that boys? Huh? That's the sweet smell of fear! You couldn't get that with all your knives and whips, but mess with his fellows and there it be. Ah!"

He took another deep breath. "Almost makes all the work worthwhile! But in the end, it's still work!" His smile upturned suddenly into a frown. "I don't look for extra work! So it seems like we got to teach you a lesson well and good."

He paused long enough for a chill to run down Aragorn's back. "Maybe this'll teach you not to run!" And Uglúk slammed his booted foot down on Legolas's ankle, the bones crushing loudly.

As Legolas cried out in shock and pain, Aragorn's stomach turned again. He tried to close his eyes, but could not take them off Legolas, who dug his hands into the ground.

"Try running now!" Uglúk laughed boisterously with his comrades and they stomped away, Uglúk shouting out commands for added guards and for preparations to move on.

It took greater effort than Aragorn expected to drag himself over to Legolas. His own body ached terribly, but he thrust aside his pains. He would do what he could to mend Legolas's leg somewhat before they were forced to move again.

He heard Gimli beside him and was relieved the dwarf was able to move on his own. "Gimli, you must help me," Aragorn muttered, disappointed in the panting he could not suppress. "We have little time." He reached out to Legolas, turning him gently on his back.

"Aragorn, what--" Gimli stopped. While the dwarf steadied himself, Aragorn occupied himself with reviewing Legolas's wounds in what light the moon offered, as the uruks had taken the torches with them. In a much firmer voice, Gimli continued, "What can I do to help? What can you do to help?"

"I hope to bind his ankle." Aragorn grabbed his already shredded tunic and began tearing it further. "There is an arrow wound here as well." Legolas hissed as Aragorn felt the wound. "The arrowhead is still within the leg. I can--"

"Just pull it out!"

Aragorn only hesitated a moment. "You are sure?"

"Stop wasting time and do it!"

Aragorn ignored the sharpness in Legolas's answer and made swift work of drawing out the arrowhead, while Gimli shredded a ragged end of his own tunic. After wrapping that wound, Aragorn turned to the ankle, already purple and swollen. "I need more cloth to make a binding."

After tearing some of his clothing for Gimli to prepare, he took Legolas's pale face in his hands. He was frowning in pain and a gleam of sweat covered his brow. Blood, dirt, and bruises covered the rest of his face and neck. "Legolas." He waited until the elf opened his eyes to look up at him. "This is your choice only. I want to bind your ankle. But if I set the bone first, it will heal faster and cleaner. But only you know if you can bear such pain as that will bring."

Legolas looked at him for a moment. Closing his eyes, he said quietly, "Set it."

Immediately, Aragorn turned to Gimli. "I will need you to lean on him. You must try to keep him as still as possible. Use all your weight, for pain makes one strong." Gimli simply nodded and leaned over Legolas, ready to put his weight against the elf's strength.

Aragorn heard a cackling behind him. It was Machlhug, who had beaten him. Aragorn stilled, watching for his next move. But the orc said nothing, merely paced about them as one of the added guards.

With no time to waste, Aragorn moved to Legolas's feet and straddled the injured leg. As carefully as possible, he removed his shoe. Then he arranged the cloth he would use to bind the ankle. "Be ready, Gimli."

"I am ready."

Aragorn closed his eyes, dreading the sounds of grinding bone. First, he would have to find the point of the break. He hoped there were not too many. If the bones were crushed completely, he knew not what he would do.

Feeling carefully around the puffy ankle, he quickly found the worst point. Behind him, Legolas panted. If the elf would allow himself such a kindness, he would lose consciousness after Aragorn set the ankle.

Taking a deep breath and positioning his hands, he swiftly pushed the bones together as they should be, then firmly held onto the ankle. Legolas flinched and let out a muffled cry. Aragorn wrapped the leg in the cloth as Gimli murmured. Finished, he rolled off his leg. "Legolas?"

"Give him a moment," Gimli said gruffly. Legolas lay panting in the grass, one arm flung over his face. Aragorn sat and caught his own breath.

"Time runs short," Aragorn said quietly. The din behind them had grown louder as the orcs prepared to continue the march. "They will likely draft someone to carry him. I cannot imagine they would expect him to march." Uglúk had broken the right foot. Purposeful or no, compounded with the arrow wound in the right thigh, he indeed could not run.

In the moonlight, Aragorn could see the elf's pallor. His days would now be far worse than they already had been.

Aragorn heard a call go out, and orcs surrounded them, preparing to guard them on the march. "Up, maggots! Time to move!"

Another chuckled. "I suppose this one might have a bit o' trouble marching. Well, there's nothing for it." Without another word, he grabbed Legolas and hoisted his arms over his head, turned, and headed out on the march.

Another orc tied the usual rope between Aragorn and Gimli's bindings, then tied it around his own waist. There was no escape when trussed up like this, when the beasts would know their every move.

"UP, I said! Move, you two!" Aragorn roused himself from watching Legolas fade into the night and dragged himself to his feet. Trying to ignore the screams of every ache in his body and the swimming of his head, he turned his body to Isengard.