Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Sold Into Ruin

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WARNING: Mentions of rape in later chapters!!! You have been warned.

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Chapter 1 - Predicting Bad Weather

"I suppose you're enjoying this?" Aragorn said, his voice low with anger at his bedraggled companion.

"What makes you think that, my dear Estel?" the Elf beside him laughed. Their voices could barely be heard above the roaring wind and driving rain.

"Because you always enjoy this kind of thing. Lost, in the middle of nowhere during a violent storm, after fighting Orcs for a whole month. Sometimes I think you do it on purpose just to make these trips as miserable as possible for me," Aragorn replied, his voice sulky and full of annoyance. Legolas knew he was only teasing though.

"That is utter nonsense, Estel. As if I would ever do such a thing." Legolas smiled slightly, although this was missed by the Ranger at his side, who was fighting to keep his hood up against the strong wind and rain and walk in a straight line at the same time. "Besides, we are not 'lost in the middle of nowhere'. I know exactly where we are and I am sure there is a town around here somewhere. I saw it on the map earlier." Legolas nodded off into the hazy distance but even his enhanced elvish sight was hindered by the heavy rain.

Aragorn shook his head. "With your sense of direction 'somewhere' could be on the other side of Middle Earth." Aragorn couldn't help but laugh when Legolas shot him a thunderous glare, something that could be seen even through the bad weather.

"As I recall, it was you who got us lost in the Misty Mountains that time. You even get lost in Imladris, something I had previously thought impossible, especially for one who grew up there," Legolas retorted. Aragorn instantly knew that he wasn't going to win this fight but he was certainly going to try, at least it gave them something to do during their increasingly miserable trek.

"And was it not you who led us right into that Orc lair that time? You thought it would be good shelter but it turned out to be the home of three dozen Orcs, all hungry and waiting for their next meal to drop by." Legolas took a moment to remember the incident, something that had happened nearly seven years ago, not long for an Elf but a fair time for the mortal Man.

"Well, it is not my fault that Orcs insist on living in well-sheltered places," was Legolas' rather feeble answer. "And I do believe that you had some part in that particular adventure as well. Anyway, it all turned out alright in the end, didn't it?"

"Oh, yes. We were three weeks late home, barely alive, and I believe it was raining then as well. I spent the rest of the week recovering and getting almost continuous lectures from my father. Not your finest moment, mellon nin (my friend)."

"I can do a great many things, Estel, but controlling the weather is not one of them," Legolas said, his smile replacing his previous mock anger. "At least we did get home in all those situations. That is something to be thankful for."

"Indeed. However, I think this time we shall be drowned before we reach home - if we ever do," Aragorn said under his breath. It was loud enough for the Elf to hear though and he shot Aragorn a playful warning look. "Especially if we continue following your direction."

"I told you, there is definitely a town around here. It cannot be much further and complaining about the weather will not change it, as well you know, Estel. Now, come on, the quicker we walk the quicker we will reach this town and be warm and dry," Legolas said cheerfully.

"That's if it even exists," Aragorn mumbled, earning himself yet another angry look from the Elf.

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Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and Aragorn, heir to the Throne of Gondor, were just returning from a hunting trip. Their prey being the ever-increasing number of Orcs that roamed Middle Earth in these dark times. They had intended to be gone a month, starting out from Imladris and working their way steadily towards Mirkwood to visit Legolas' father, Thranduil, before finally returning to Imladris, most likely to recover from the numerous injuries they would sustain during their inevitably eventful travels.

This little trip was something they had been planning for some time. Elrond - Aragorn's adoptive Elvish father and Lord of Rivendell - had been happy to let them outside the borders of Imladris for some time now and this had seemed like the perfect opportunity. They had packed enough supplies to last them a couple of months, knowing their trips rarely went according to plan, and had set off with just each other for company. During their time hunting they had killed a good number of Orcs and so far the journey had been remarkably uneventful, with nothing but the odd scratch to hinder their progress. They had been enjoying their time away from their homes and over-concerned families. They both loved their respective father's dearly but to be out of their sight and in the middle of an adventure was what they loved. They liked being in each other's company and often arranged to meet up with each other despite the long distance between Mirkwood and Imladris and Legolas' increasing responsibilities as Crown Prince.

Over the past year, darkness had been steadily growing in Middle Earth and although none yet knew of the terrible danger in which their homes would later be placed they were all wary of the increasing evil. Elrond had agreed to Legolas and Aragorn going on this trip partially to help him understand exactly what they were dealing with. He knew this was a rather selfish reason but then his foster son could always take care of himself and Legolas was also a keen warrior. He knew nothing particularly terrible would happen so long as they stuck together, Legolas would ensure the Man's safety at all costs. His friendship with the human was seemingly unshakeable. Even when they had their differences they always forgave each other and their friendship was made all the stronger for its rocky patches.

Many times there had been clashes between the two of them, mostly over things that had happened in the past, things most people wouldn't understand. They had seen and done an awful lot during their time together and their combined knowledge of the outside world challenged even Elrond's. And yet despite having a rather long and exciting history behind them the two were as happy lounging in the gardens of Rivendell as they were fighting scores of Orcs or exploring undiscovered caves, something many others simply couldn't appreciate. They were, however, perfectly contented so long as they were doing something together, whether it be exploring or resting.

Aragorn was undoubtedly the more adventurous of the two, always wanting to be doing something. Even when they were supposed to be relaxing in Imladris he was climbing the trees - sometimes rather unsuccessfully, much to Legolas' amusement. Legolas had always laughed at the man's antics, often causing him to fall out of the particular tree he was climbing, which of course, only angered Aragorn further. Legolas could easily swing from branch to branch with absolutely no danger of falling. He was built to climb trees and to communicate with them, both of which he did on a regular basis. These skills naturally created a great deal of envy in Aragorn and he spent a lot of time trying to compete with his Elven friend and very often losing the battle.

The 'adventure' they were currently engrossed in, unfortunately for the Elf, didn't involve any trees, at least it hadn't for some time. This was something neither was particularly pleased about. Legolas hated being away from the trees for too long and so far they had seen nothing but vast, empty plains. Aragorn didn't like seeing the Elf the way he was when separated from the things he loved. He wanted to see his friend happy and so far this journey had made the Elf nothing but uncomfortable.

"Look at that," Legolas announced proudly, his voice almost carried away by the howling wind but still startling Aragorn from his thoughts. "The town is right up ahead," Legolas shouted triumphantly at his companion.

Aragorn stopped and looked ahead of them, he could just about make out the vague orange glow of candlelight burning in the windows of a mass of houses. Thanks to the dreary weather, Legolas' eyesight was no better than his human friend's, not something Aragorn liked very much. It was reassuring knowing his friend could see things he could not. Many times they had been in situations when the Elf had used his superior eyesight or hearing to their advantage and over the years Aragorn had come to rely on having the Elf's abilities act as a kind of early warning system.

"Legolas, that looks like a town of Men," Aragorn shouted back, knowing the Elf could hear him.

"I don't think we have much choice. It could be days before we find another place to shelter," Legolas replied.

Aragorn waited a moment before replying, "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." Legolas laughed and started forward again.

They had good reason for not entering towns of Men. They knew all too well how dangerous it could be in them, all sorts of reports of bad people doing bad things. Aragorn hadn't spent much time in towns of Men, having grown up amongst the Rivendell Elves and Legolas was not at all experienced in the ways of Men, probably due to the fact that his father hated them all so much. Legolas had simply never had to learn anything about them and his only exposure to the race was when he had met Aragorn, and in truth, that particular Man was not a typical example of the culture.

Entering the unknown town was not something they would normally be comfortable doing but right then they didn't have a choice. Although Legolas' prediction of drowning was unlikely to say the least, Aragorn was mortal and not immune to illnesses as the Elves were. They simply couldn't afford to stay out in this rain for too long. They didn't have any cover from attack and given their tiredness from the hike, neither were in the position to ward off an attacker anyway.

And so they, somewhat reluctantly, headed towards the dull lights in the distance. Legolas went in front, not as troubled by the driving rain as the man. Aragorn pressed on behind him through the wind. He admired the Elf's stamina; he never seemed to need rest, although even now Aragorn could see fatigue beginning to show on his fair face. After weeks without proper rest and the terrible weather that had followed them had tired them both out. Because of this, Legolas had taken many of the watches during their trip, knowing that the man needed more rest than him. Aragorn had not been keen on this but had agreed with the Elf's ever logical reasoning. However, he knew that Legolas would be equally thrilled to stay the night in a warm bed with a roof over his head, even if it was amongst unpredictable Men.

Finally, they drew nearer to the town and the first houses started to appear. Luckily, the tavern was on the outskirts of the town so the two travellers didn't have to walk through the entire settlement to get to it, something Legolas was particularly grateful for.

As soon as they reached the tavern, Legolas could sense that entering would be a bad idea. They walked up to the door and instantly heard the loud, drunken shouts of Men from inside. Aragorn looked across at his companion's face, which was almost invisible thanks to the cloak hood and the darkness of night around them. Legolas sensed Aragorn looking at him though and turned to face him.

"I think I know what you're going to say, mellon nin (my friend)," Aragorn said with a tired smile.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Legolas replied, relieved at no longer having to shout. The buildings, although few, sheltered them a little from the wind and rain. "I don't believe it is safe." He looked up at the sign that was swinging backwards and forwards in the wind, its rusted fittings creaking ominously. "Something doesn't feel right."

Now, usually, Aragorn would have instantly turned away and ran very fast in the opposite direction when he heard Legolas mention that something didn't 'feel right', however, they didn't have a whole lot of choice in this instance. They knew that they couldn't carry on their perilous travels in the weather and that the rain would probably continue for the rest of the night and well into the next day. Aragorn shook his head, torn over what to do. He trusted his friend more than anything else in the world and always listened to what he said. Elves' instincts were nearly always right; they seemed to be able to sense danger, to hear it on the wind and in the trees. Aragorn could never understand it personally but he knew he should be very cautious if his friend thought there was something wrong.

Whilst Aragorn was debating his options, Legolas was staring intently up at the swinging sign, which he had just figured out said: 'The Handy Tavern', something which had previously been obscured by the sheer rain and the fact that the sign was practically falling to pieces.

Just as Aragorn was about to speak, the large oak door swung open and two men fell out in nothing but tattered shirts and trousers and walked, drunkenly, into the yard outside the tavern. Legolas looked questioningly over at Aragorn, who shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he had no idea what was going on. They both watched the pair circle each other and then realised what was happening.

Legolas looked over at the tavern and saw men gathered at the door and windows, cheering names that neither Legolas nor Aragorn recognised. The two men continued to circle each other and Legolas took a step back, pulling Aragorn with him. The last thing they wanted to do was get involved in a fight. The cheering grew louder when one of the men struck the other hard in the face. The hit man turned away, placing his hand against his bleeding lip then spitting blood on the ground. Legolas frowned; this wasn't something he had ever seen before, and although it was primitive, in the eyes of the Elves anyway, it was at the same time profoundly fascinating.

The man who struck first jumped up and down, his fists raised, then they began circling each other again. This time it was the second man who struck first and punched the other hard in the stomach, sending him to his knees in the mud. After a moment, and after the cheering had died down, the other got up and shouted something at his opponent. The words were carried away on the wind but Legolas guessed it wasn't anything polite. Again, they circled each other and then, rather unexpectedly, they ran towards each other, raining down blows wherever they could. The people in the windows and the doorway of the tavern cheered louder and Legolas even saw a few gold coins being exchanged. They were betting.

Legolas briefly looked to Aragorn, who was staring intently at the two figures. He then turned his attention back to the fight, which had now progressed to the inclusion of weapons. One of the men was holding a gleaming knife. This drove the crowd wild, their shouting increased and became the only thing that could be heard above the howling wind. One man swiped at the other but he managed to dodge it. They really had no technique at all, Legolas thought. The man with the knife struck again, this time catching his partner with the blade and sending him to the ground with a shriek, gripping his bleeding wound. Legolas went to move forwards to help him but Aragorn grabbed him by the arm before he could interfere.

The winner kicked the other man while he was writhing on the ground, sending him onto his stomach, his face in the mud. He kicked again and again until the man didn't move anymore. After a few seconds of silence, the victor flung his arms in the air and shouted something Legolas didn't catch. The crowd must have heard thought because they began cheering uproariously, although none of them ventured out into the rain.

The man stopped shouting and the crowd departed, going back to their drinks. The man gently kicked the body on the ground and smiled, tossing the knife in the air and allowing it to fall on the man's back. The victim made no move and Legolas and Aragorn knew he was dead. The victor walked back into the tavern but stopped when he saw Legolas and Aragorn standing just outside. Legolas only just realised that his hood had been blown back by the wind and had exposed his Elven features. He self-consciously pulled it back but the man had already noticed. He kept his eyes fixed on the piercing eyes that were inspecting him and held the gaze until the man looked away.

As he walked past them, the man shot one last glance at them and spat at Legolas' feet. The Elf cocked his head to one side, trying to understand what he had done to offend the man but by the time he went to ask him, he had already disappeared back inside.

Legolas and Aragorn stood for a moment, looking at the dead man with the symbolic knife in his back. They then turned to each other and looked at the tavern, whose door was now closed to the elements.

"And you wonder why I'm cautious about going in there?" Legolas said, gesturing to the man lying face down in the mud.

"Alright. If you honestly think we can carry on in this weather we will leave," Aragorn replied. Legolas sighed. He knew the man was right. They couldn't travel any more and this was the only place for them to stay and a makeshift sign in the window informed them there were vacancies.

"Alright, but I will not be blamed when all this goes wrong," Legolas warned jokingly, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Very well," Aragorn replied. "And if anything does go wrong then you can delight in saying 'I told you so' as many times as you like." Legolas laughed at this.

"That is an offer I simply cannot refuse."

With that, Aragorn opened the door to the Handy Tavern and allowed the Elf to walk in before following and closing the door to the elements. For some reason he felt like he had just sentenced them to trouble and that Legolas was going to have plenty of chances to say 'I told you so' in the near future.

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