Shield, a lord of the rings fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own the original storylines or characters and am not making any money by borrowing them.

Summary: Aragorn always puts his own welfare last, thus the consequences heavily affect him after the war has ended. Fortunately for him, someone is there who cares more about him than he does himself... AU/Movie-verse. No Slash.

Enjoy (and review, please)! =)

Shield

Silence engulfed Minas Tirith. The White City was still standing now that Sauron was defeated, but many a soldier had not lived to see it.

Too many, Aragorn thought gravely while he looked out over the Pelennor Fields in the light of an early morning. The carcasses of the slain Mûmakil were still lying there, awkward heaps of grey which seemed to emphasize the absurdity of the battle. An unnecessary war and a bitter one, if one considered its cause. Aragorn felt himself shiver and knew it had nothing to do with the cold air.

He had not had any rest since Mordor had fallen, but had been with the wounded until now. He had not allowed himself to give in to his exhaustion as long as he was needed and had enough strength left to help, but now he was spent, and not even the fresh air could change that.

Slowly, he made his way to the quarters which had been assigned to him; Minas Tirith seemed like a labyrinth compared to Imladris, and it would take some time for him to get used to its vastness.

Aragorn rubbed his eyes. It was not only the exhaustion which gnawed at him: ever since they had returned from the Black Gate, pictures of battle had started to haunt his thoughts. Helm´s Deep, Pelennor and Mordor seemed to have mingled and occupied his mind whenever he did not concentrate enough to shake them off. Even more disturbing were the pictures he just imagined, seeing the injured and pondering on how it must have happened. The hobbits had been worst, especially Frodo; he hated to think of what he must have endured.

All this wore him, as he had never experienced something like this before. He had witnessed a lot of gruesome scenes in his life, had been in more than one battle, but it had never affected him so strongly.

Sighing, he opened the door to his room and went inside. His personal belongings were lying on a table, but apart from that, nothing indicated that someone had been living in here.

Aragorn took off his sword and boots and sank down on the bed. His body felt as heavy as lead, and only now did he realize how really tired he was. He could not even think anymore, he just closed his eyes and slept.

When he woke up, he found that someone had spread a blanket over him. It was light, though he had no idea what time it was, and he did not care. He closed his eyes again, not even noticing that he was not alone; sleep was calling him once more, and he gratefully complied.

Legolas watched him and shook his head: as skilled a healer as Aragorn was, had he thoroughly neglected himself.

The archer had gone to see how his friend fared only to be informed that he had left the Houses of Healing early in the morning. "At last", the healer he was talking to said."I tried to convince him to get some sleep, but he would hear none of it. He could not have gone on like that very much longer, I grant you that. Not with his own injuries, anyway."

Legolas nodded: "But he did have someone looking at them, did he?" "Aye", the healer said gravely, "once. And only quickly."

The Elf was not surprised to hear this and immediately went to Aragorn´s room. The Ranger was fast asleep on the bed, obviously having been too exhausted to undress and crawl under the covers. Legolas kindled the fire in the fireplace, then found a blanket in a wooden chest and carefully tucked his friend in. He looked at his haggard face and smiled sadly. They had survived, after all, and he was glad about it. But for Aragorn the war seemed not to be over yet; even though he knew he could not save all, he tried. Legolas knew his friend well enough to see the tautness which was evident in his features even now.

Cautiously, he touched Aragorn´s temple just like he had seen Lord Elrond doing it. A song came to his mind, a calm melody he had known for a long time, and before he had even realized it, he had started to sing. If there was a way to help Aragorn unclench, it would be this one.

And it did; gradually, the man´s tension decreased until he looked like he was resting easily.

Legolas stayed with him until he was satisfied that Aragorn would sleep on like this. He woke up once but allowed himself to go back to sleep immediately, which relieved the elf. He had seen Aragorn in similar situations and knew that if he had been startled into alertness once he would not permit himself to rest further. That he just closed his eyes again told the elf how utterly spent Aragorn must be. At least Legolas´ ministrations seemed to have helped him to relax, otherwise he would possibly have tried to crawl back to the Houses of Healing.

Silently, Legolas left the room. He returned half an hour later, carrying some water as well as several smaller pots containing salves and herbs.

One of them he opened at once; it contained Athelas, which he crumbled into a small bowl of water. He had been in Rivendell often enough to know which soothing effect the plant had, and as it now filled the room with its aroma, he smiled: it felt as if Elrond was present.

Aragorn shifted slightly and sighed in his sleep. Legolas stoked the fire once more and left looked in on Aragorn several times during that day, only to find that he was still asleep.

It was already dark when the Ranger woke up the next time. Legolas had just come in to rekindle the fire; when he got up, he saw that Aragorn´s eyes were opening. The Elf sat down on the bed and smiled at the confused and still sleepy look on his friend´s face. He did not seem to remember how he had gotten into bed.

"You went to bed of your own volition", the Elf therefore said, answering the unspoken question, "I did not have to knock you out and drag you here."

Aragorn smiled feebly: "How do I know that to be true?", he asked, his voice barely audible. Legolas reached for the water and poured some into a cup for him: "You will just have to believe me", he said while the Ranger was drinking. "And I think you know very well how far you have pushed yourself lately."

Aragorn set down the cup and slowly sat up: "What time is it?"

"Around nine." "I should look after Fro-" "No, you should not."

Legolas gently but firmly grasped Aragorn´s shoulders and held him down: "You have done enough", he said sternly. "I will not have you collapse, which is what will happen if you do not rest for at least another day."

Aragorn looked at him in astonishment: "But I have slept for a whole day, and there are many who need me-" "I have just talked to the healers and they all agreed that they will manage without you now that the worst is over. And yes, you have indeed slept for a whole day, but only because you had not slept for the last four days!" "Legolas, this is ridiculous! Now let me get up!" "No, I will not! I will sit on you if need be! If you could see yourself, you would not even ask!"

Legolas felt himself getting angry, and he could tell that Aragorn did not find this amusing either. But he was not about to let him get away. Crossing his arms, he spoke very calmly, though his blazing eyes betrayed his anger: "Listen to me, you stubborn example of a Ranger: you will stay in bed or I will tie you down!" "You what?"

Aragorn felt his own anger fade rapidly at the determined and almost hurt expression on Legolas´ face, and he could not but laugh. But laughing hurt in his chest, a reminder of the troll who had nearly crushed him, and he suddenly realized that Legolas was right. He could not go on like this. As much as he hated this thought, a strange sensation of relief flooded through him. Staying in bed had never sounded so wonderful.

Legolas shook his head: "This is not funny at all", he said, snorting.

"I am sorry." Aragorn replied. "I did not mean to laugh... I know you worry about me. But you do not need to." "Yes I do, since you never listen to me. And do not tell me I sound like your mother." "But you do!" "Alright, maybe I do", Legolas said indignantly, "but that is only because the twins are not here to take over."

They locked eyes, having already forgiven one another, and chuckled.

Turning serious again, Aragorn sighed: "I will stay in bed, then." Legolas nodded: "And let me see to your injuries." "They have been looked after." "Yes, days ago. That does not qualify as proper care." Aragorn had to admit his defeat, as he was still tired and his mind did not seem to function properly. He was far too weary to come up with a fitting riposte, so he could just as well let Legolas have his way.

While the Elf went to get some food, Aragorn undressed and went over to the basin to splash himself with water until he was soaked enough to let it count as having washed. Half-heartedly, he dried himself off and had just entangled himself in his nightshirt when Legolas came back in. "You can immediately take it off again", he said while he set down the tray he had been carrying, "so I shall be able to look at your injuries."

Sighing, Aragorn complied and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I did not know you secretly had become a healer", he muttered. Legolas subdued a grin and cautiously prodded Aragorn´s ribs. His whole chest was still swollen and heavily bruised. "It is a miracle that nothing is broken", the Elf murmured.

"It still hurts", Aragorn hissed through gritted teeth when Legolas touched a particular sore spot. He applied a generous amount of salve which the healers had given him and covered it with a soft cloth, then helped Aragorn back into his shirt.

"Now the cut."

Wordlessly, Aragorn held out his arm.

Legolas pushed up the shirt sleeve, removed the old bandage and inspected the nasty cut Aragorn had received during battle.

"It is slightly inflamed", he stated. "I will have to disinfect it. You did not really expect it to heal while you were neglecting it, did you?" "I was too busy to think about it." "I can see that. But now that I will not let you get away with it any longer, it will."

After he had treated and redressed the wound, he looked at the bruise in Aragorn´s face. The Ranger had turned into a lamb and did his best not to comment on the solemn expression with which Legolas assessed him.

"I will put salve on this as well", the Elf finally announced, "you can lie down again."

Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief and crawled under the covers. Despite their bickering, he was grateful for Legolas´ some reason he always felt better in his presence; maybe because he, Aragorn, had grown up amongst his kind. Even now, he realized that his mind had calmed down, no horrible images were haunting him, and it might very well have something to do with Legolas´ presence.

He did not know that his friend had sung for him just like his foster father had done when he was very small and had nightmares.

Legolas washed his hands and brought over the tray: it held some bread, cheese, chicken, fruit and a pot of tea, wrapped in cloth so as not to get to cold. Aragorn managed to drink some of it and eat a bit of everything before he became too sleepy to stay awake any longer, and Legolas was content.

He put the tray aside: "Sleep well", he said quietly. The Ranger did not respond anymore, and the Elf got up to leave.

Aragorn walked over a barren field; he could feel his sword at his side, and it seemed to weigh a lot more than usual, slowing him down. He could not see anything beyond the field, which stretched endlessly, as it was surrounded by darkness. He did not know why, but he walked on, or rather dragged himself forward because moving became increasingly difficult. After a while, he could hear something as well: screams and shouts, people calling his name, and someone was laughing, laughing maliciously.

He tried to walk faster but couldn´t; the darkness seemed to pull back, but he suddenly knew that he had to get there and help whoever was calling him. Desperately, he unsheathed his sword and started to run, which cost all his strength. But somehow he succeeded and finally reached the darkness. He could see through it now as if it were a veil, and the sight was horrible. A battle was going on, and he could make out the faces of his family, of Legolas and the other members of the fellowship, who were all being mamed by something dark and too gargantuan to recognize; they had been calling for him, and he had come too late. He tried to fight it but did not even know where to begin.

And then he could not move anymore, could not but watch as the dark thing swallowed all those who were dear to him. He screamed, and that was when he woke up. Panting, he sat up; the embers of the fire were still glowing a little, but apart from that, the room was dark. Darkness was dangerous, bad things were hiding in it; as fast as he could, Aragorn scrambled out of bed and frantically started to stoke the fire in order to light up the room. Only then did he fully come to. Shivering, he knelt in front of the fire and rubbed his eyes, waiting for the nightmare to wear off.

He felt quite shaken when he got back into bed, and it took him a long time to get back to sleep.

The darkness was still there, waiting for him, and no matter where he turned to, he could not escape it, as he was surrounded. This time, he tried to get away from it, but it drew nearer, and simultaneously, the shouts and screams from the inside became louder and more intense. He dreaded to see what was causing them, but was unable to close his eyes. As soon as he was in it, he could not move anymore, just like before.

He tried to pull away with all his might so as not to have to look at the terrible things in front of him. While he still struggled, he felt someone close to him, someone who shielded him and made the darkness less threatening. Soothing words reached his panicked mind, causing him to calm down. And then the darkness vanished, and with it the screams. He stopped his attempts to get away and just listened to the voice which reached out to him, listened until another darkness approached him, one which held no dangers.

In a low voice, Legolas talked to Aragorn until he released his tension and lay still. He gently stroked his friend´s hair: "Sleep", he whispered. "You are safe here..."

He had come to look in on Aragorn and had found him tossing and turning as if caught in a nightmare, which apparently had been the case indeed. He recoiled from the Elf´s touch at first; only when Legolas had lain down on the bed and put his arm around him, trying to find reassuring words in the Elven tongue, did he calm down, subconsciously drawing closer to his friend.

Legolas could only guess what Aragorn had seen that had frightened him such, but it did not need much imagination to find a possible answer.

He found it hard to deal with the impressions of battle himself; even when one was rested and had recovered one´s strength were they hard to think about. But Aragorn had been with the wounded from the moment they had returned, and had not had a break. He had seen various injuries, had heard men cry out in delirium or seen them die silently, which made the war all the more real and emphasized the cruelty and unnecessity of it all.

Legolas desperately wished he could help his friend, but all that he could do was to be there for him, give him strength where his own was spent.

Thus he held Aragorn close and started to sing once more, an ancient lullaby which he remembered from his earliest childhood. It built a wall of safety around them, helped the Ranger to forget the dreadful images he had been carrying in his mind, and let him sleep peacefully so that his body could recover.

The End