Neither knew for how many hours they had walked. They couldn't even understand if it was day or night, since no light illuminated the halls except the light of their torches. In fact, Ceranos only stopped when he realised he didn't hear the Man's footsteps anymore. And when he turned to see what was wrong, he saw Aragorn leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Sighing, Ceranos walked up to Aragorn and clasped his shoulder gently.
"You should have told me something," he said softly. "I have more stamina than you and that is why I did not suggest a stop."
"I was raised among Elves; you would be surprised at what stamina I have acquired," Aragorn replied in a defensive manner.
"You grew up among Elves, you did not become one," Ceranos said with a small smile, jade eyes locking to the man's stormy grey ones. "Besides, this is as good a place to rest as any nearby."
Aragorn supposed that that stood to reason, so he sat on the floor with his back against a rock. As for Ceranos, he sat cross-legged across him, already digging out some cram from his pack.
"I have enough for both of us," the elf said. "Here."
Aragorn, however, shook his head. "We will share my food. It will be my way of thanks for your guidance."
Ceranos refused politely at first, but, Aragorn proved to him that his obstinacy could easily be compared to a Dwarf's and so he shouldn't be denied this. Thus, Ceranos took some of the lembas Aragorn offered, nodding.
"You're welcome," Aragorn said, smiling. "Mind you, a few bites are enough, so do not eat too much or too quickly."
"All right…" Raising an eyebrow, Ceranos examined the leaf-wrapped waybread and then broke off a piece to nibble it carefully. It was a surprise for Aragorn to see an Elf seeming so curious about elven food, even more so when said Elf grinned, enjoying what he tasted. They had barely enough time to eat anything more, however, when Ceranos suddenly stood rigid, his head cocked as if trying to hear something.
"What?" Aragorn asked in a whisper, somehow suspecting that this couldn't be anything good.
"I sensed something," Ceranos said just as softly. "And now there's heavy footsteps coming to our direction."
Aragorn realised that, though Ceranos had grown up among Dwarves, his senses were still as sharp as an Elf's; so he didn't loose any time. He quickly went for his weapons and drew out his bow and arrow, just as Ceranos grabbed his axe and set himself in fighting position.
Not a moment too soon. It was then that the cave troll appeared, letting out a hideous threatening growl against the two travellers.
"Aim for the underparts!" Ceranos cried, already charging. He was engaged in combat in moments, gracefully avoiding gracefully the club it was wielding, while Aragorn started showering the troll with arrows, aiming for the chest and belly.
The troll didn't seem to have expected that sort of attack, nevertheless it swung its club in an attempt to hit at least one of them. It never found its target as Ceranos was too swift for him, and the wounds that both warriors inflicted on it got more and deeper. It wasn't long before it feel down dead, making a great thudding sound as it crashed on the ground.
"Are you all right?" Aragorn asked, rushing at Ceranos's side.
"Yes," answered the Elf, trying to catch his breath after such a fight. He didn't stop to rest, however. He simply went over to the troll to examine it carefully.
"That was not so difficult, thankfully," Aragorn noted, watching the scene thoughtfully.
"Actually," the Elf replied, "that was too easy."
"Too easy?" Aragorn asked, frowning.
"And here is why," Ceranos answered, opening the creature's mouth wider for Aragorn to see. "The teeth are too small and soft. This was not a full-grown troll yet." In the next moment, his eyes widened in realization, and he reached for his axe again.
"Get ready, quick!"
"Why? What is wrong?" Aragorn asked, not really understanding.
"Think about it, Strider! When a young one is around-"
Another, greater growl interrupted him and made both warriors face the door behind them.
"The mother is close," Aragorn breathed out.
Sure enough, a larger troll came out of the darkness of the hall, the smell of the blood attracting it to room Ceranos and Aragorn were. The moment the monster's eyes fell on the body of her offspring, she let out a great bellow of wrath that echoed through the room and then charged at the warriors, grabbing the club that lay on the floor, forgotten. Ceranos and Aragorn ducked out of harm's way and, in moments, the elf was gracefully back on his feet and setting himself in a defensive position, just as the man tried to scramble to his pack to get his sword; his arrows had already been spent in the previous fight.
He didn't manage it; the club landing in front of him cut him off. Aragorn looked up, and he saw the troll raising her weapon again, aiming it at him. All he could do was cover himself protectively with his hands, waiting for the blow to fall.
That is, until the troll's roar made him look up again. To his wonder and relief, she was writhing painfully, her hands trying to reach something on her back. But it was when she turned around that Aragorn saw what that something was: a hatchet buried deep on her shoulder blade.
"Nakhu, tarâg!" Ceranos cried challengingly, holding in one hand his axe and in the other the second hatchet. "Let us see how you fare against an armed warrior!"
The troll regarded the elf with eyes filled with hatred, and then rushed forward for the kill. Ceranos threw his hatchet straight on the monster's chest, but that did little to slow the frenzied pace of the attack. Even so, Ceranos remained perfectly still, waiting for the troll to come closer. And Aragorn realized, to his horror, that that was the elf's plan; drawing the troll away and thus give him time to pick up his sword.
Crazed fool! Without losing any more time, Aragorn reached for his sword, hoping he wouldn't be too late, and then got back on his feet.
Ceranos still waited for her, and he only stepped aside just as she towered over him, her weapon ready to crush the insolent warrior. Landing lightly aside, he drove both his axe and the hatchet deep behind the creature's knee, severing her ligaments. She cried in agony, swinging her club instinctively so as to swat Ceranos away. Though Ceranos saw it coming and tried to jump backwards to avoid the hit, he was too late. The club hit him full force on his chest, and a sickening cracking of bones followed the impact, practically echoing throughout the hall. Ceranos was sent flying, screaming, before he landed in a heap on the floor, face down and motionless.
It was the perfect chance. Limping because of her wound, the troll approached the elf and lifted the club to finish off its prey. But it was also the mistake that cost her, for she had forgotten all about Aragorn. And the man threw his sword at her with all of his might, aiming for her exposed throat.
His aim didn't fail him. His sword flew swiftly and surely to its target, cutting the Troll's life vein. The creature swayed for a few moments, the club slipping through its fingers, and then she collapsed, quite dead before she even hit the ground. Even so, Aragorn didn't feel appeased until he was absolutely certain that she wouldn't suddenly get back and start fighting again. Then, breathing heavily, he looked in the direction of the broken form of Ceranos and, fearing the worst, rushed to his side. He gently rolled him over, relieved to see that the elf was alive and even conscious. Still, it was heart-wrenching to see him breathing in a shallow manner, trying to block the pain he was obviously feeling, and his face all white.
"Are you… all right?" Ceranos asked quietly, eyes locking on Aragorn.
"Yes, I am – thanks to you," Aragorn answered. "I wish I could say the same for you too, my friend."
Ceranos bit his lip, tensing. "I heard something breaking… and it hurts to breathe."
"I do not doubt it," Aragorn replied with a wry sigh. "Ceranos, I need to see how much damage you have taken at that hit. I cannot promise I will not hurt you more, but I have to examine you. Do you understand?"
Ceranos nodded his understanding. Slowly and with Aragorn's help, he unclasped his armour and lifted his shirt in order to reveal his chest. Aragorn winced at the horrible bruises that had already formed on the smooth skin, and he started feeling the ribs. He tried to be as gentle as possible, yet he still felt Ceranos flinch under his touch, a couple of whimper flowing of his lips.
"I'm sorry," Aragorn said apologetically, finally done with his probing. "But it is as I feared, you have broken three ribs. I do not think any of them pierced your lungs, though."
"That is something, at least," Ceranos whispered.
"Just hold still, I will find something to bind them in place," Aragorn promised. He hastily ran to his pack, found his blanket, and used his sword to cut long pieces of cloth so he could wrap them around the Elf's chest. It took some time but, finally, Ceranos's wounds were bound securely, and his shirt and armour were back in place over the bandages.
Ceranos managed to smile weakly at the man. "Thank you. It feels much better now."
"Thank Elrond; he taught me how to do this," Aragorn said, returning the smile in kind.
"If I ever see him, I will make sure of that." In the next moment, he propped himself on his elbow, gritting his teeth in an attempt to get up.
"No, you should stay down," Aragorn said, gently pushing him back down once more.
Ceranos, however, shook his head. "That commotion was enough to bring out the dead, let alone the Orcs. We have to continue on till we put some distance between this place and us," he said. "Give me my axe, it will help me walk."
Aragorn had to admit to himself that Ceranos was right. So, he complied with a sigh and picked up his pack, as well as Ceranos's, before helping the injured elf back on his feet. Thus they started their march once more, the elf on the lead, in spite of his injuries, and Aragorn close behind, carrying the packs and the weapons. They had to make several short stops on their way to rest, since Ceranos was still in great deal of pain. In the end, though, they reached a secluded room where both of them could spend a few quiet hours of sleep. Aragorn closed the doors and used one Ceranos's hatchets to keep them shut, so as not to worry about patrolling Orcs, and then helped Ceranos's lie down, using a pack as a makeshift headrest.
It was clear, though, that something troubled Ceranos; he was looking up at Aragorn in quite the thoughtful manner. But he didn't decide to speak his mind until Aragorn lay down as well.
"Strider?"
"Hmm?" Aragorn replied, his eyes already closed..
"Do you truly consider me a friend?"
The Man opened an eyelid, looking at the elf curiously. "Why should I not?"
"You have only known me for two days."
"And what of it?"
Ceranos pursed his lips for a moment. "With the exception of Thrir's family, nobody else I have met would be that open to accept me so quickly. My foster father could be overprotective at times because of what I am… or rather, what I am not." He sighed. "Let us face it, Strider, I may not be a Dwarf, but I am definitely not an Elf either. And that was why he was always afraid no other creature besides the Nogrod Dwarves would accept me with an open mind; a fear that… I shared with him."
Aragorn thought about what Ceranos said for a few moments, and then smiled softly, clasping one of the elf's hands in his.
"Ceranos, I understand how difficult it must have been for you to grow up among people that were so different from you in so many ways that, in the end, you felt that there was something wrong with you. I grew up among Elves and I came to share their ideas, their way of thinking and language."
Ceranos looked up at him. But Aragorn was far from finished.
"But, as you said, I grew up among Elves, I did not become one. And I certainly cannot be considered part of the Men's race either. We are something different, but it does not have to be bad. In the end, it is the heart that counts. I have known you for only two days, true. But, even in so small a time, I managed to learn enough about you to understand that you are a brave and honourable warrior whose skill in fighting and forging can only be compared to his kind soul. You got concerned about my safety more than once. You were ready to share your food with me. You even stood up against the Troll to assist me. This matters to me the most and this is why I consider you a friend." Aragorn smiled. "As for the fact that you have been adopted, I can only say that Thrir would be very proud to have raised a son like you."
Ceranos let these words sink in, clearly touched.
"Thank you," he said. "You have truly grown wise among the Elves and this wisdom can only be compared to your skill as a warrior and a healer, a thing so rare nowadays. I am glad to have met you and I am honoured to be your friend."
"As I am honoured to be yours," Aragorn said, smiling. "Now try to sleep. Your elven power of healing will help you recover; but you need to regain some of your strength as well."
"I do not think I will be able to, but I will try." Ceranos replied, wincing as he tried to move to a more comfortable position. "I hate this; I cannot even smoke," he added in a grumbling tone, and then he closed his eyes, drawing his blanket over him.
Aragorn actually bit back a chuckle and finally settled down to sleep too. He closed his eyes, but then he snapped them open again, for he realising there was something wrong with the sight of the resting Ceranos.
His companion, an elf, had his eyes closed. Aragorn watched his friend apprehensively, trying to figure out what to make of that. Ceranos's injuries couldn't have worsened; he had made sure of that. So what was amiss?
Aragorn opened his mouth, ready to wake up Ceranos so he could examine him again, but, in that moment, the elf's eyelids half-opened to reveal unfocused jade eyes underneath them.
It finally dawned on Aragorn. He remembered how, in his childhood, he always tried to imitate his foster kin's way of sleeping, keeping his eyes open. That hardly worked, however, since his eyes closed again as soon as he dozed off. And now it seemed Ceranos was doing a similar thing too, getting used to sleeping among Dwarves, except his Elven heritage proved stronger and his eyes opened when sleep claimed the Firstborn.
Smiling kindly, Aragorn turned on his side and closed his eyes too. Ceranos definitely never ceased to surprise him.
TBC...
