Chapter 2

Aragorn

"I don't want to talk about it, Estel."

"I know you don't, mellon nin, but how am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

Legolas didn't respond, but his body tensed up, and Aragorn started stroking his arm, hoping to calm the prince. When it became apparent that Legolas wasn't going to speak, Aragorn decided he'd have to move on to other methods.

"Well, if you won't talk to me, I should examine you, and then you need to have something to eat. Can you at least tell me why you're so thin? I know your father would always see to it you have plenty of food, so it can't be that. What do the healers say? I assume there must be some underlying illness causing you to lose weight."

Still, Legolas was silent. He'd never been a good patient, but this was even more uncooperative than usual. "Alright, I guess I'm figuring it out for myself, then." Aragorn gently rolled Legolas onto his back, but when he tried to take off the prince's tunic, Legolas slapped his hands away, curling himself into a protective ball.

"You have to let me examine you," Aragorn said firmly. "I know you don't like people seeing your injuries, gwador, but you're very ill, and I won't let you get any sicker." There would be no negotiation on this point, and perhaps Legolas sensed that in his voice, because his face took on an expression of defeat.

Aragorn was alarmed when the prince started crying again. Deciding that the examination could wait, he got back into bed and pulled his friend close. Legolas turned away, doing his best to reject his friend's presence. It didn't matter how much he begged, Legolas wouldn't talk to him, just kept sobbing and sobbing as though his heart was being torn in two.

No matter how Aragorn rocked, hushed and comforted him, Legolas was inconsolable. The man was left feeling helpless and useless as he fruitlessly murmured words of attempted comfort in his friend's ear. He couldn't begin to imagine what had Legolas this distraught, and it terrified him.

The sun was starting to set when Legolas seemed to give up his resistance. His tense muscles went slack and he turned to face Aragorn, burying his face in the man's chest, sobbing desperately into his tunic.

Aragorn hugged him close, not knowing what else to do.

"P-Promise – m-me."

"Promise you what, gwador?"

"Promise – y-you won't – won't s-stop – l-loving m-me."

"Legolas you are my best friend, the brother of my heart. There is no force in the world that could make me stop loving you. I swear, that will never change." Why in middle earth would Legolas be worried about that? What could possibly make him doubt how much Aragorn cared for him?

Legolas tried to say something else, but he was crying too hard for Aragorn to make it out.

"I cannot understand you, mellon nin," he said gently. "Try again, more slowly."

Legolas tried a few more times before giving up on speech, shaking violently with his sobs. At least now, he seemed to be accepting comfort. As day slowly turned to night, Legolas eventually calmed, and he fell into an exhausted sleep. By now, Aragorn was both hungry and thirsty, and once he was sure that Legolas was deeply asleep, he ventured out of bed to find sustenance.

The kitchen was fully stocked, and he grabbed some lembas bread, not willing to take the time to prepare anything more complicated. He debated whether to wake his friend. Legolas really needed to eat, but he also clearly needed sleep. Aragorn decided that food could wait until the prince woke.

Exhausted by the day's events, he crawled back into bed with Legolas, and was asleep within minutes.

He was woken by Legolas trying to get out of bed, which was just as well, because the prince had barely tried to stand when he collapsed heavily. Aragorn was just in time to catch him, lifting him back onto the bed.

"Don't try to walk yet, mellon nin. I need to examine you, and then we can get you something to eat."

"Don't want to be examined," Legolas mumbled.

"We've been through this, Legolas. I have to find out what's wrong with you. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Tears were once more starting, and Legolas looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You promised."

"What?"

"You promised you wouldn't stop loving me."

"And that promise still holds," Aragorn assured him. "Just relax, mellon nin, this will be over soon."

Legolas tensed when Aragorn removed the prince's tunic, but didn't otherwise protest. As the fabric fell aside, Aragorn couldn't keep in a gasp. Legolas' body was covered in cuts, deep red slashes that looked to have come from a knife. His inner forearms were particularly bad, but there were a fair number on his stomach and sides too.

"Gwador? What happened to you?" He didn't really need an answer, which was a good thing, since Legolas didn't give one. Aragorn was an experienced healer, an he recognized all too well that the wounds were self-inflicted. He winced as he glanced again at the elf's torso. His stomach was sunken and his ribs stood out sharply.

The examination of Legolas' lower half showed the same thing – too many cuts, too little fat.

Aragorn helped the prince get dressed. He couldn't find anything wrong physically other than the cuts and the weight loss, which he already had his suspicions about, given Legolas' other symptoms.

"Legolas. Legolas, look at me." Silent tears were still falling down the prince's face, but he wouldn't look at his friend. Aragorn took his chin, forcing the elf to meet his gaze. "Mellon nin, have you been eating?" he asked gently.

Legolas turned his eyes away. Aragorn waited. Closing his eyes, the prince shook his head.

"Ok. Ok, I understand, mellon nin." He understood what was wrong, he just didn't understand why. "I am going to help you. Can you tell me yet what's wrong?"

Again, Legolas shook his head.

"Then at least tell me when you last ate."

The prince appeared to think about it. "Last week, I think. There was a pear… I ate half of it."

Aragorn knew that elves didn't need as much sustenance as humans, but even they needed more than that. No wonder Legolas was so weak. He must have been running on pure adrenaline yesterday.

"Stay here, I'll be right back."

Aragorn came back with a piece of lembas, and broke off a quarter of it. He held it out to Legolas. "I need you to eat this."

Predictably, the prince shook his head.

"Why not, mellon nin? Can you tell me?"

Another shake of his head.

"If you can't talk about it yet, that's fine, but Legolas, you have to eat. You're starving yourself to death. You will not survive much longer like this."

Legolas didn't appear at all bothered by the words – in fact, a strange light came into his eyes at those words, one Aragorn didn't like one bit.

"You have to eat," Aragorn pushed. He knew he couldn't budge on this, not if he wanted his friend to live.

"I don't want to eat, Estel. I'm not hungry."

"That's because your stomach has become used to going without food, but trust me, your body needs it. I'm sorry, mellon nin, but you could die. I'm going to have to insist you eat. Please, don't make me force you."

"Please, Estel." The pained whisper tore at his heart, but Aragorn steeled himself.

"No, gwador. You must eat, and you must eat now." He was already thinking ahead. Lembas was the best option right now, as it offered the most nutrition for the least amount of eating. He'd boil water and crush the lembas into a paste, then force it down Legolas' throat. He wouldn't let his friend starve.

Perhaps Legolas could read some of these thoughts off his face, because he relented. "Give it to me," he said softly.

Aragorn eagerly handed over the lembas, and Legolas hesitated for a moment before putting it in his mouth. He chewed for ages, far longer than was needed. Panic started to come into the prince's eyes. Aragorn realized what he was about to do, and clamped Legolas' mouth shut before he could spit out the food.

"Swallow, mellon nin."

Legolas did his best to shake his head, but Aragorn wouldn't relent. He tilted the prince's head, forcing the food to the back of his mouth. The elf's body took control and reflexively swallowed. Aragorn sighed in relief, letting Legolas go.

It was a mistake. Legolas bolted to the adjoining bathroom, and Aragorn got there in time to see him stick his finger deep down his throat.

"No, mellon nin!"

He wasn't in time to stop it, and the lembas came back up again as Legolas retched into the toilet.

Aragorn felt like bursting into tears. He felt like sitting down on the floor and giving up. Instead, he took a deep, calming breath, and led a shaking Legolas back to the bed.

"I'm sorry, gwador, but now you're going to have to eat some more."

"No, Estel, please…"

He was relentless, and by the time Legolas had gotten down another quarter of lembas, Aragorn was hating himself for having to force his friend like this, no matter how necessary it may be. This time, he stayed in bed with the prince, keeping a firm grip on him.

Aragorn went through calculations while Legolas cried quietly, turned away from him. It took about five hours for a human's stomach to empty of food after eating, which meant it would take just under two for an elf's.

"Well, we're going to be here for another two hours," he told Legolas. "Until that food is safely being digested and you can't vomit it up. We've got nothing to do and nowhere to go. Won't you tell me what's wrong, mellon nin?"

He took Legolas' silence as a refusal.

"Then at least tell me why you ever feared I would stop loving you." Silence. "Saes, Legolas. You have to give me something here."

Legolas still wouldn't speak. Aragorn silently cursed the boundary keeping them here. He didn't know enough to treat Legolas, not for something this severe. He'd read accounts of how to help people with these kinds of problems, but he'd never seen it first-hand. He needed Elrond, but Ada was utterly unreachable at present.

"You have to let me go."

"Go where?"

"To the bathroom."

"To relieve yourself, or to throw up?"

"I… I can't have the food inside me, Estel."

"Why not?"

Legolas shook his head again. He started struggling to get his arms free from Aragorn's grip, no doubt to put his fingers back down his throat, but Aragorn was too strong for the weakened prince.

"Please, Estel!"

"No. Your body badly needs nourishment. I'm not letting you throw it up and putting you through another forced feeding."

The tears that had never really stopped picked up, along with Legolas' breathing. Aragorn recognized another panic attack coming on and quickly flipped Legolas onto his back, grabbing the lavender oil.

"Breathe, gwador, just breathe. Slow, remember?"

"Can't – Estel – the air – there's no – air – here –"

"The window is open, mellon nin, there's even a breeze. There is plenty of air, I promise, it's just your mind playing tricks on you. You're only trying to breathe too fast, just like yesterday, remember? Slow it down. Follow my breathing."

At least in this, Legolas seemed to be accepting help. He struggled to match his breathing to Aragorn's. After several minutes, he calmed down somewhat, and turned away. "I'm sorry, Estel."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Aragorn assured him.

He glanced at the sun. "That food should have digested by now. How about a bath?" Legolas was filthy, which was extremely unlike him, but Aragorn supposed he couldn't really be surprised. The prince didn't respond, so Aragorn patted his shoulder and got up to start heating water.

When the bath was ready, he helped Legolas undress. The prince was still extremely weak and needed help getting into the water. Worried that his friend would pass out and drown, Aragorn got in with him, helping him wash.

Once they were both clean, he washed Legolas' hair, and spent over an hour toweling it dry and braiding it just how he knew his friend liked it. They hadn't spoken since Legolas' apology, but both of them were comfortable with silence. Aragorn just wished his friend would tell him what was wrong.

He could do his best to treat the symptoms, but until he knew the cause, what he could do was limited.

"You're probably dehydrated. Do you want tea or water?"

"Tea. Hot tea. I'm always cold nowadays," Legolas admitted quietly.

Aragorn was thrilled to have even that small piece of information. He could have figured as much out for himself, but Legolas telling him was a step in the right direction. "That's from the weight loss. I'll take a look through the wardrobe, see if I can find you some warmer clothes."

Legolas at least drank the tea easily, and Aragorn found the wardrobe stocked with both summer and winter clothes that were mysteriously exactly his and Legolas' sizes. His suspicions about the situation grew. This was starting to look more and more like some kind of setup, though he still couldn't figure out why anyone would want to trap them here.

"Good news, I found some nice warm clothes for – mellon nin, what are you doing?"

Aragorn leapt forward and wrenched the knife out of his friend's hand, but not before Legolas had made six deep slashes on his arm. He didn't fight when Aragorn took the knife, but slumped back in his chair, a slight smile on his face. It was the first time Aragorn had seen his friend smile since he'd arrived in Greenwood, and he didn't like the timing of it.

"Stay here, I need to get my medical kit. These will need stitches."

Legolas was right where Aragorn left him when he hurried back, and didn't even seem to feel the stitches. His gaze was faraway, and he didn't respond to any of the man's questions. Aragorn cleaned him up, got him dressed in warm clothes, and put him back to bed. Some of the older cuts looked like they definitely should have been stitched, but had been left to heal on their own, leaving bumpy scars on the elf's pale skin.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." He didn't think Legolas could have moved if he'd tried. The prince was already weak, and the blood loss on top of that seemed to have drained him of all energy.

Aragorn scoured the cabin, gathering any sharp item he could find. He went outside and buried them under an oak tree, moving the leaves around to cover the disturbed ground before returning to Legolas. The prince hadn't moved. In fact, he'd fallen asleep. He was sleeping with his eyes closed, something Aragorn had expected, but it still worried him.

He sat down in a chair next to the bed, staring helplessly at the elf. What was he going to do? He feared that if Legolas didn't let him in, Aragorn would be unable to help his friend. The thought had Aragorn's own eyes prickling. "I can't lose you," he whispered brokenly to Legolas' sleeping form.