Awkward Situations
Summary: this is a continuation of the previous story "A First Time for Everything". This takes place a few years after. One of the reviewers asked for a possibility of Arwen seeing the tattoo. I thought, "Better yet, what if Elrond finds it first?" Aragorn is about twenty-three. I may or may not write another with Arwen finding about it. Obviously, she would, and may make for a humorous fic, but we shall see how this one does first.
Discslaimer: Nope, don't own them. Except the OCs of course. Wish I did, but I don't.
Features an OC or two. Spoilers? Umm, for Lost Hope, yeah and A First Time for Everything. However, I am assuming you have read at least the latter before this one.
Could a quick trip home be this hard to accomplish? Apparently so. Aragorn mused to his self as he sat on his knees besides a fallen orc. Sweat trickled from his brow and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He panted heavily and leaned forward with his palms resting on his thighs until it had passed. The sword he carried with him lay in the grass beside him, stained with the black blood of the orcs. The young ranger glanced up to see how his younger cousin had fared.
The young man staggered back a bit across the battlefield, exhausted by the exertions of his first battle. The fifteen year old had a small cut on his face and on his right forearm where he had not been careful enough, but overall, he did not seem to have a grievous hurts, but then neither did Aragorn.
"How do you fare?" Aragorn asked him.
"A few cuts and perhaps some minor bruises, but otherwise I am unharmed. Are battles always this tiring?"
Aragorn nodded and sat back on his heels. He let out a hiss of pain as his body protested to the sudden movement. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he realized how sore he was, especially his lower back.
"You are hurt!" his younger companion exclaimed as he rushed over to Aragorn.
Thank you, Mr. Obvious. Aragorn thought at first as he hated being fussed over in such a manner, it was most likely just a small scratch at one of those odd locations where it felt worse than what it was whenever moved or bumped in the slightest way. But he could not really blame the lad. Halmir was younger than he was and not full grown into manhood yet. Neither was he, for that matter. Halmir looked up to him though, almost as another older brother. Aragorn supposed maybe it was because he was there when Halmir's father died because of his traitorous ways and Halmir was only an infant at the time. Aragorn too had lost his father before he could remember him, but Elrond had filled that hole in his life. Halmir, it seemed, filled his hole with his older brother and cousin.
"Aragorn?"
Aragorn shook away the thoughts and said, "I am fine, and it is just a scratch, so do not worry." He waved his hand to dismiss the attentions of the young man. Halmir merely backed up a step and waited, seemingly unconvinced of Aragorn's reassurances. Aragorn moved to stand. With a cry of pain, he stopped the motion and placed a hand where the pain was the worst. Terrific. The wound was a few inches long and bleeding substantially. It was deeper than he had thought.
Halmir was back beside him when he had cried out. His eyes were as large as saucers at the thought of his cousin being injured. "You are hurt!" Halmir knelt beside Aragorn looking at the wound. "It was my fault was it not?" Aragorn did not answer, unsure of what to say, for he did not blame Halmir for the cause of the wound. "When I miss-stepped away from the orc and you saved me."
"I do not blame you, Halmir," responded compassionately.
"But is my fault!" Halmir clenched his eyes shut and balled his fists.
"Halmir!" Aragorn reproached him sternly, "You made a mistake. I understand that and do not blame you for it. We will talk about this later, but for right now, we need to tend to this gash. Get my bag and I shall instruct you in what to do on how to clean it. I set it over there before the attack." He pointed over to an open part of the field. Halmir rose and went to fetch the pack.
Aragorn watched as Halmir stooped and picked up what appeared to be his pack. The pack Halmir held in his hands was empty and torn. It had been trampled and the contents spilled, including the smaller bag of medical supplies that was carried in the larger bag. Halmir looked mournfully back at Aragorn. Aragorn sighed and motioned him to come back over to him. "Do you have any cloth? We need to stop the bleeding." Halmir nodded and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "Place it over the wound and hold it there firmly." Halmir did as he was told and after what seemed to him a long time, the bleeding finally slowed and then stopped. By then the blood had soaked the rag through.
"It has stopped," he said.
"There is nothing more we can do here. Rivendell is a few hours away. I say we go there and have Lord Elrond tend it. I shall have to be careful to not open the wound again. Do you think you can help me walk while keeping the cloth to my back?"
"I'm afraid it will not be of much use now. It is soaked through."
"We shall have to take extra precaution then. Help me up. Carefully now." With one hand near the wound on his back and one supporting Aragorn, Halmir helped him slowly up. Halmir left him for a moment to pick up Aragorn's sword and sheathed it for him. He then resumed his position and they walked to Rivendell thus, slowly and carefully judging each step.
"I have a feeling," Aragorn spoke up, the sarcasm in his voice evident, "This is going to take more than a few hours." Halmir fought the urge the laugh, for he felt the reason it was going to take them so long was not a laughing matter, but the remark was funny nonetheless.
*~*Hours later *~*
"We are almost there," Halmir repeated for what Aragorn guessed to be the hundredth time. Each time he seemed more anxious than the last. Thankfully, they were almost there. Yellow light spilled from the doorway of the house, for the doors were rarely closed. A grateful sight to Aragorn as he felt he was barely hanging on. The wound it seemed poisoned by the orc sword or else had become severely infected and Aragorn had broken into a cold sweat and fever some time ago. Aragorn guessed it was both, since that would make the day be even better and each step seemed harder than the last.
"Almost-"
"Halmir," Aragorn snapped, his words slurring slightly, "if you say, 'We are almost there' one more time, so help me, I shall stumble my way back to the top of this valley and toss myself over. Perhaps I shall even take you with me as I may need help getting back up there." He added with a smile.
"Forgive me," Halmir apologized and they were silent.
The front lawn was empty. Proof that the household was already settling down for the night. The two rangers made their way slowly up the steps of the house and stepped over the threshold.
"Aglar, Ninniachhir, Wilwarin, anyone!" Aragorn called for the servants that were usually still about the part of the house at this hour. Aglar was the first to respond, rushing to them upon hearing Aragorn's urgent cry.
Aragorn bade him fetch Elrond to the healing wing. While Aglar ran to fetch the Lord of the house, Aragorn directed his cousin to the healing wing. His vision darkened with each step, then nothing.
If Halmir had not been already supporting him, he no doubt would have crashed to the stone floor not far from the healing wing. Instead, Halmir caught him and lowered him the floor as he called for help. With the help of an elf whom he did not know the name to, they carried the man into the healing wing and placed him on his stomach one of the beds after removing his shirt, leaving his back exposed for Lord Elrond to attend.
The elf was unable to persuade him to tell her if there was anything he needed as he stood in earnest over his cousin's prone figure. Halmir did not notice her walk away. She returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean rag along with some herbs. The ranger did not seem to notice when she took his arm in her hand and began to clean it until the herbs in the water stung the wound.
Elrond entered the room in haste, going straight to Aragorn's side to examine the wound. Aglar stood near the door to wait upon Elrond. After looking at the injury and deciding what was needed, Elrond put Aglar to work, sending him to fetch the items he needed. The elleth, meanwhile had turned her attentions to the cut on Halmir's cheek and Halmir fallen back into his stupor.
"Fear not, he shall be alright," Elrond spoke gently to the young man without looking up from the wound he was tending. "His fever is already leaving." He picked up a needle and stitched the wound shut when he was finished cleaning it. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Halmir, I'm his cousin. Halbarad's younger brother."
"Well, Halmir, your cousin will be in the best of health in a few days." Elrond looked over the wound one final time to make sure everything was taken care of. It was then that he noticed something. It appeared to be ink on his back and writing at that. His brows furrowed and he pulled down the top of Aragorn's pants until the entire marking was showing.
Elrond's eyebrows reversed, seemingly on their own, and found themselves at the top of his forehead when he made out the writing. There, written in Tengwar, was his daughter's name: 6#n5$. He cleared his throat and looked up at the youth, "What do you know of Aragorn's tattoo?"
"Tattoo?" echoed Halmir. He evidently knew nothing of it.
Elrond shook his head, "Never mind, go and get some rest. Orëanga, will you find a room for him?"
The elleth nodded and led Halmir away from the wing. Elrond leaned over Aragorn and whispered, "You and I have will have to have a talk when you awaken," even though he knew Aragorn could not hear him. He handed the items remaining from the cleansing over to Aglar before pulling a sheet over top of Aragorn. Aglar disposed of the items and was dismissed afterwards by his lord.
Someone was calling his name, but he did not want to answer. Instead, he contemplated the reasoning for his position. He never slept on his stomach, so how did he end up thus, he wondered. He was not uncomfortable. The bed beneath him was soft and felt wonderful compared to the hard beds he had come accustomed to sleeping on since he left Rivendell. Ah, Rivendell. That is right, stupid orcs. But, oh this feels wonderful.
"Aragorn, son, I know you are awake." Aragorn opened his eyes, there sat Elrond in his eye line looking straight at him with a look he was not sure of. It seemed he was angry and yet trying to refrain from smiling all at the same time. "How do you feel?"
"Better than I was." There was a moment of silence. "Is something wrong, Adar?"
"I have never anticipated this, so I do not know if wrong is the correct word."
"Atarinya?"
Elrond closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh. "Your hair is short again. What possessed you to cut it?"
Aragorn's cheeks colored a little at some memory of the event. "Surely, father, that cannot be what is on your mind for it has been short before."
Elrond smiled briefly, "No, it is not, unless the two events are related?" He quirked an eyebrow at his youngest. Aragorn stared back at him.
"You mean my ear?"
"Ear? No, I meant the- What do you mean ear?"
"Never mind, forget I ever-" Aragorn answered hastily.
"I was speaking of the tattoo."
Aragorn's cheeks reddened even more. "You were not supposed to see that."
"I am listening," Elrond folded his arms and sat back comfortably in the chair.
"Promise you will not tell anyone. Especially, 'Dan and 'Ro." Elrond nodded. "It was Halbarad..."
"I doubt Halbarad knows the art of tattooing."
"When I left Rivendell, I went to see Halbarad. Soon after he decided we needed to celebrate, as he put it, my 'entrance into manhood'. He took me to Bree and introduced me to something he called, 'Ale'..." he paused.
"Continue."
"I refused, at first, but then he convinced me and then we wound up in a drinking game. Then everything is fuzzy, but when we awoke the next day, we were both hungover. I had the tattoo and my hair cut. My ear was pierced as well…Are you angry, father?"
"I am, however, I am also rather amused at this."
"What are you going to do?"
"Do?" Elrond smiled wickedly, "There is a nice spot in the wine cellar to chain one up in…However, I think you have learned your lesson in this. You are an adult, albeit a young one, but still capable of making your own decisions. I trust this will not happen again."
"Never again. I have learned that lesson. However, there is a pleasant taste about the ale that I find relaxing. From what I remember, that is."
Elrond chuckled, "I remember my first introduction to ale. I too was challenged to a drinking game."
"Who challenged you?"
"My brother," he laughed, "I remember spending all day in the bathroom too." Aragorn smiled. A knock sounded lightly on the door. "Come in." Halmir entered and walked quietly over to the bed. "He is awake, but do not keep him too long as he needs his rest. I shall leave you. I see you have much to discuss" Elrond rose and left the room, closing the door behind him.
The end.
The names of the some of the servants is meant for a laugh for those who speak elvish. If you do not know the words, I bid you look them up. As for Wilwarin, I always wanted to use that as a name in a story and I got the chance to.