A/N Happy almost 4th to all my fellow Americans! :)
Disclaimer: not mine.
Chapter Seven
Aragorn cradled Legolas gently in his arms as they sat together in water up past their waist with only the faint light of a torch to comfort them.
"Just hold on, Legolas," the human implored for what seemed to be the hundredth time since finding his friend. Pausing, he let his hand hover over the prince's mouth and nose, waiting with baited breath for each reassuring gasp of air. "You just keep breathing for me, you hear, because I... you are not allowed to die on me." Looking away the great, strong, king of all men gritted his teeth. So many emotions were flowing through him that he didn't know what to do with all. Fear was prominent, but anger was coursing through his veins right along with it.
The minutes seemed to drag on, and Aragorn began to grow frigidity. Where were the guards? Surly they should be here soon; it had been an hour or so since he had sent the young guard off…
Aragorn began to shiver as the cold water soaked through his clothes and drained the body heat from him, but it was too his worry that Legolas did not. The elf's body was like a block of ice resting against his and yet he did not shiver. Closing his eyes and dropping his head so that his chin rested on the elf's head, he began to rock back and forth, humming an almost inaudible song. When he caught Dirheal...
Suddenly the sound of a great many people could be heard as voices and the stomping of feet echoed loudly throughout the air. Lights began to be seen through the darkness flickering like the stars that Legolas loved so much and Aragorn heaved a great sigh of relief, hugging Legolas briefly.
Standing clumsily, Aragorn caught the elf's legs and swung the prince into his arms gently, preparing to meet the rescue group.
"I'm here!" he cried out, watching as the lights turned and bobbed after the direction of his voice.
"My lord!" someone cried, and then he was surrounded by men, asking him this and that and all around creating a confusing scene.
"Where is the stretcher?!" Aragorn finally roared in frustration, knowing that they did not have time for any of this.
"Right here, my lord," one solider said softly, raising his hand. "We have everything else that you asked for."
"Thank you," Aragorn said, craning his head to see where he was going. Reaching the stretcher he smiled at the four men holding it, assuring them, "He is not heavy." Gingerly, the king laid the elf down as gently as he could and began to cover him firmly in the warm, dry blankets that someone handed him. As he tucked the corners in around the visibly abused body, he took the time to squeeze his hand. "Do me a favor, Legolas," he said for the elf's ears only, "And please, I'm begging you, don't make me be the one to have to tell Thranduil that his son didn't survive, because I didn't realize something was wrong. It would be a little early to make Eldarion a ruler, anyway." He squeezed the slim fingers hard. Letting go, he started to walk through the cold water, turning his head and ordering as he did so, "I want soldiers to scout the area in pairs of two. Find Dirhéal and bring him to me."
"Your highness, beg your pardon, but I disagree," the highest official there stated, stepping forward and walking with long strides to keep up with the stretch. Aragorn glanced up from Legolas' face and nodded for him to continue. "Those stairs are unstable and could break at any moment. I fear for the men who would be down below if they did clasp. Is it not better to get everyone out and wait for Dirhéal to come to us?"
Aragorn paused, but then nodded, seeing the wisdom in this and the man turned back, calling to his men to make for the stairs. The king lengthened his stride and glanced back down at Legolas' pale face. His hand was glued to the elf's throat, the ragged thump of the beating heart comforting him.
They reached the rickety stairs and began to climb. Aragorn saw what the man had meant with his first step on the stone, it was more unstable than when he last climbed down it. This was not a comforting thought and Aragorn subconsciously tightened his hold on Legolas. Slowly, they made the dangerous steps with as much care as they could. Everything seemed to grow unnaturally still and quiet and their steeps atomically slowed even more, each man glancing around in fear.
Suddenly, the stairs began to quiver, their age catching up to them as the added weight of many men pressed down on it. All the men stumbled, to the side, shifting the balance of the wood even more. Aragorn lunged protectively over the stretcher, shielding Legolas with his body, but nothing came down from above.
The old stairs continued to shake ominously and someone further below yelled the command that was on everyone's minds.
"RUN!"
Untangling himself from Legolas, Aragorn and the stretcher bearers began to run up the stairs as the pounding of the feet below caused the wobbling to changed to dramatic shifts from side to side. Splinters began to crumble away from beneath and the skirting of dust could be seen skipping past their feet as it was shaken loose.
"GO, GO,GO!" Aragorn shouted, letting go of Legolas' hand and pausing to help a man who had fallen back up before he could be trampled by the oncoming soldiers. The top of the stairs could now be seen and the sight urged them all to greater speeds as they staggered up. The stretcher bearing Legolas was going slower than a normal man could and soon the others had caught up and where passing them by. Two of the soldiers struggled through the throng and grabbed Aragorn by the arms and yanking him forward and further away from Legolas. The king resisted, but the other men continued to push him to the front of the line, unwilling to let him die.
"No! I don't want-" Aragorn tried protesting, but had to stops as the rumbling of falling materials drowned out his voice and dust began to chock them all.
A minute, which seemed like an hour, later they where stumbling on to stable rock and Aragorn tugged free. Reaching out, they began to pull others up behind them and to safety. One of the last one's to come to security was Legolas and his bearers, and Aragorn hurriedly grabbed hold, helping them up the last few steps. His heart was pounding hard in relief and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
A moment later the stairs gave a violent lurch and gave completely. It vanished into the darkness far below. Aragorn and the rest peered over the edge with varying degrees of relief and shock on their faces as the loud crashes and bangs echoed up dully from below.
"Is everyone all right?" Aragorn finally asked when silence had been returned, his breathing labored from the long climb. Many voices responded and the king let out a long sigh of relief, running a hand through his sweaty, gritty, hair. The group began to shuffle towards the exit and Aragorn turned, fighting upstream to reach his friend.
"Thank you," he said sincerely to the men holding the stretcher. Reaching out, his once again found the elf's pulse and he counted mentally. There was no change. The men nodded and Aragorn smiled, before looking ahead. The rest of the trip back out of the dungeons was uneventful and it was with a great joy that all the men filed out and into the bright, warm, afternoon sunlight.
"Get a notice out on Dirhéal. I want him found," Aragorn ordered the captain, before adding in a quiet under tone to the men caring Legolas, "You four, with me." Quickly they began to walk and soon entered the busy courtyard. People momentarily stopped what they doing to see what was happening and low whispers began to hiss through the yard.
"Take the severance entrance as soon as you can," Aragorn directed, stepping protectively closer to Legolas and shielding him from prying eyes. The familiar thump of his friend's heart underneath his hand gave a hitch and the man felt his lungs smilingly freeze. "Hurry," he urged.
Taking the servants way, which was both faster and away from curious eyes, the group of six soon found themselves on the seventh level of the city, where the healing halls where located. The sound of running feet came from behind and Aragorn twisted to see who it was.
"Aragorn! I've just heard the news, is it true?!" Faramir cried, his normally put together appearance ruffled. He stopped mid-step as he caught sight of the pale, dead looking elf and let his mouth drop open. "It is true… " he murmured with fear for his friend clear. Picking up his step, the steward of Gondor caught up with them and walked along the other side of the stretcher, his protest that the king hadn't waited for more back up before acting dying on his seemed unable to draw his mortified gaze away from the prince's gravely injured body and it was with a slightly green face that he looked up at the king
"Will he live?" he asked in a whisper. Aragorn turned his face away and let his shoulders rise and fall with the air that he carried a great weight.
"I don't know," he admitted painfully. They walked, or rather sprinted, on quickly until they reached the large door of the healing halls.
"Leave us," Aragorn commanded once they had transferred Legolas onto one of the many comfortable and clean beds. "I have work to do."
NOFINNERFRIENDS
The people outside the healing halls slowly swelled as the word of Legolas' rescue spread like wild fire. Éowyn paced the marble floor, white face and uptight, while her husband stood ridged against the wall. Arwen cuddled Eldarion close and gently answered his many questions.
It had been early in the afternoon that Legolas' had been brought in, but it was late in the evening when Aragorn found a moment to pause in his care and inform them all of how Legolas was doing.
As the door swung open, every movement seemed to stop and all eyes turned to their king. For a moment, he was silent. Taking a deep breath, the former ranger forced a smile on his face and crouched down next to Eldarion.
"Hey, buddy," he whispered gently, ruffling his already unruly hair, "I need you to- to run and grab your, ah, sleeping clothes. It is past your bedtime." The adults in the room shared knowing, scared, glances as Eldarion dashed off excitedly towards his room on the mission his father had given him.
Aragorn straightened and ran a hand through his own hair, looking extremely tired and worn as he heaved a sigh.
"Legolas isn't doing well, is he?" Éowyn questioned tentatively.
"No," the king agreed despairingly, "He is hovering between life and death, and has been for quite a while as far as I can tell." The man began to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching as he talked, his voice growing angrier with each word."Legolas has had to endure starvation, torture, and then more torture. Not to mention the fact that this all happened in a cave like element, which is just another form of torture for an elf. I could never guess all that has happened to him in the past month. I just don't know..."
Faramir and the two women shared another significant look, this time with varying degrees of horror, before Arwen moved forward. Walking over to her husband, she encircled him with her arms and allowed him to drop his head heavily onto her shoulder.
"Legolas is strong willed, he won't give up without a fight," she soothed, gently rubbing the man's back as they swayed lightly on the spot, "You are tired, get some rest and everything will be brighter." Aragorn shook his head and pulled back, his face more troubled than ever.
"Legolas needs me, I dare not leave him now," he said with a stab of bravery, allowing a tired and faint smile to touch his lips, though it rapidly dropped down to a frown. Arwen nodded, her eyes tracing her husband's face.
"Keep us posted?" Faramir asked as Éowyn nodded.
Aragorn agree, and then turned his back to them, sliding through the large doors and back to Legolas' side.
For a moment, the three adults where silent, then Éowyn said, "I don't think waiting here any longer will do us any good. Aragorn will find us if there is a change." The other two nodded, but stayed where they were at. Finally, with one last glance at the closed door, they went their own ways, hearts silently pleading for the survival of their friend.
Back in the healing halls, Aragorn was bent over his friend, adding yet another blanket to the sizable pile already covering Legolas. The elf was still freezing to the touch, which disturbed Aragorn greatly for more than one reason. It had always seemed that Legolas, though an elf, had been practically prone to infections no matter how well they cleaned his wounds and now was no different. The nasty injures that the former prince of Mirkwood had received showed all the signs of infections, the redness and swollen skin, but not the accompanying fever. This, more than anything, showed how desperate the elf's situation was.
Sighing loudly, the ranger turned king sat back in a high backed chair, watching as the prince's chest struggled to rise and fall.
"Legolas, mellon-nin, listen to my voice and come back to the light and those who love you," he murmured, placing his hand across the elf's clammy brow and pressing down gently while his other hand found the elf's. Legolas drew in a ragged breath and seemed to tilt his head to the side, but otherwise didn't show any sign of hearing.
"I know you can do it. Legolas, I need you to come back. I need to talk to you, I need you to know you are free," he continued, forcing his despair from earlier back and installing a weak hope instead, hoping to urge Legolas back from the brink he was teetering over. Again, the elf seemed to stir at the powerful command, before going still, and the human heaved a sigh.
Grabbing a cloth, he ducked it into a bowl of steaming water and wiped it across his friend's face. Leaving on his brow, he covered it with his own hand, and repeated the order for Legolas to hear his voice and awake. Legolas didn't stir this time, and the man sat back, pressing his lips together in a thin line.
"Legolas, please, I need you to be alright," he whispered, sitting forward once more and unraveling a roll of bandages. Cutting through the linen easily with a small knife, he lifted Legolas limp hand and wrapped the fresh bandages around the weeping wrist. His hands were shaking lightly and Aragorn frowned. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his heart until he stopped shaking. Legolas would fine, he had to be.
It was not until late in the morning the next day, that Aragorn finally saw a change in the Lord of Ithilien that lifted his spirits. Legolas had begun to shiver, his body shaking uncontrollable and his teeth chattering vigorously. Moans constantly left his bloodless, chapped, and split lips. But this showed that he was fighting, that he wasn't about to let death wonder in and claim him like an old boot. On the downside, however, the constant shivering was sucking the strength rapidly from Legolas' already depleted store.
"Legolas, wake up, for me, please," Aragorn once again found himself pleading, this time with renewed vigor. He slipped a hand under one of the blankets just above the elf's heart, feeling the freezing touch of skin against his palm as the regular beat there eased his mind. The elf paused in his groaning, as if in confusion, and Aragorn sat forward eagerly. Calling out again, he was rewarded with a pair of hazy, dimmed blue eyes peeking out from underneath long, dark, eyelashes.
"Hey, hey…look at me," Aragorn directly softly as he smiled widely, resting the back of his hand against the prince's cool cheek. Legolas moaned again and let his head roll limply to the side, closing his eyes as he did so. "No, Legolas, you must look at me, you must open your eyes," the man urged, gently maneuvering his head back around. "Can you hear me?" he asked in confusion. Legolas' eyelids fluttered once more and after a minute they drifted open.
The elf didn't otherwise respond, however. His eyes floated pointlessly around the room, never actually focusing in on anything. His normally brilliantly blue eyes where cloudy and Aragorn had the sinking feeling that the prince wasn't really with him.
"Legolas…" he tried again, attempting to turn the elf's attention back to him, but Legolas face remained slack and uncaring. His shivering increased dramatically until Aragorn thought that he might just shake right off the bed. Sliding onto the bed next to his friend, he gathered Legolas into his arms, blankets and all, and huddled him close in a hope to preserve some warmth.
Legolas cried out in unbearable pain shot through his body and he arched his back, breathing heavily as he fought. "No…" he gasped out, repeating the single syllable louder as Aragorn tried to constrain him so that he would not hurt himself worse. His hands fluttered wildly as another cry was wrenched from him and he latched onto Aragorn, his fingers squeezing as he surged upwards, trying to flow with the pain.
"Shh, shh… you are safe," Aragorn tried to sooth, whispering the words over and over again. Legolas buckled and the man pressed him down gently, trying to get him to stay still. "Shh, don't move, Legolas, you will only hurt yourself worse." Slowly, Legolas calmed, his dull blue eyes continuing to flick across the rooms as he sucked in ragged gulps of air. The man continued to hold him until he slipped back into an uneasy sleep.
TBC...
Well, Legolas was awake... sort of. But at least he is safe! :)
Review Replies:
feuilleblanche: I promise an update every Friday, or pretty much every Friday. :) Thanks!
Elven Princess: Yea, that is true. :) I haven't had the guts to kill him yet. Maybe one of these days I will take you all by surprise. Haha, stupid weirdos is such a correct term. :) Thanks!
Nameless: I'm am exceedingly glad that you are enjoying it that much! Haha, yea... caffeine right before bed doesn't really sound that wise. I hope you also have a fantastic summer. :) Thanks!
