Eternal Sun

Chapter 10

Aragorn was just finishing a meeting with his City officials, King Thranduil sitting in on it to offer his input to the running of Gondor. They'd been at it since dawn, and everyone was hungry and tired. They were gathering up the parchments scattered over the City Council table when he heard the door open, and hasty footsteps. He looked up to see a guard coming towards him, accompanied by Dagor.

"Dagor? Is something wrong?" Thranduil asked his eldest son, standing up with a frown. The young elf looked worried and pale, looking between his father and brother-in-law as he nodded.

"It's Legolas… He…he tried to…- J-just come with me. Both of you." He said, and they did.

"What? What happened? Is Legolas hurt?" Aragorn asked, running to catch up with the younger elf's long strides.

"No…no, he's… He went out into the lake…we thought he was going to drown himself…" he said, walking hurriedly. Aragorn's whole body went cold, and he froze in his tracks. Thranduil stared between him and his son, then his jaw clenched and he grabbed the front of Aragorn's doublet.

"Legolas needs us, this is no time to be struck dumb, Aragorn." He snarled with a startling heat, before releasing the Man and sweeping off, with Dagor at his heels.

Aragorn watched them go, his breathing shallow as his chest tightened. Legolas had tried to hurt himself, kill himself? He was in that much pain… The mere thought of Legolas so sad set a fire in Aragorn's heart, and he ran to catch up with his husband's family. Then past them. Sprinting through the stone hallways, he took the stairs to the royal chamber 2 or 3 at a time. He crashed into the heavy oak door of their solar, slamming it open.

Alassiel was standing by the fire, helping a maid to hang out Legolas' sodden green cloak. They both jumped and turned when he made his entrance, their eyes wide.

"Where is he?!" Aragorn demanded, tears in his eyes. The she-elf jumped at his raised voice, but she recovered herself quickly and spoke.

"I-in bed-" but Aragorn didn't let her finish, running into their bedroom. Harn was sitting on the bed, draping a blanket over the shivering form of Legolas. The older elf looked up when he entered, smiling slightly.

"He's asleep. I'm trying to get him warm…" he said. There was a thick towel wrapped around Legolas' hair, his face pale and fevered. Aragorn joined them on the bed, his arm around his husband, not knowing what to do. Thranduil moved behind Harn, looking down at his youngest child with sad eyes.

"He is dying…" Thranduil said softly. Aragorn looked at him, angry and confused. For the first time, the Elf King looked old. His perfect skin looked drained, greyish, his face suddenly aged by grief.

"But…but how…?" Aragorn asked, his eyes wide with fear, his warm hand holding Legolas' cold one. "He…he's an elf…he's supposed to live for centuries, forever! He was supposed to die long, long after me, I've accepted that!" Aragorn screamed, angry and helpless. Harn flinched at the shout, trying to calm Aragorn down, not wanting to wake Legolas, but all Aragorn could see was Thranduil stepping away from the bed. "Answer me! Why is he dying?! We have to save him!" Aragorn bellowed, tears escaping ad rolling down his cheeks. Maddened with fear, he picked up his husband's limp body and hugged him tightly to himself, squeezing him hard in his arms, wanting to take him inside himself, protect him with his own ribs, nourish and warm him with his own blood.

All too soon, the closeness was ripped away by foreign hands, prying them apart. Aragorn cursed and fought, until a sharp pain filled his mind, and the world went black.

Aragorn awoke to see their bed's canopy above him, the softness of goose down pillows beneath his head and the heavy warmth of blankets. He sat up stiffly, his head aching, pounding. He brought his hand up to feel his own head, but his fingers found linen and gauze.

"They had to knock you out." A voice said, and Aragorn looked up to see Faramir sitting at his own desk. His friend looked at him disapprovingly, sighing as he stood up and came over to sit on the mattress at his feet. "You were holding Legolas so tightly they feared you would break his ribs. They couldn't get you off him so…" he trailed off, gesturing to Aragorn's bandaged cranium. The King looked to his left, finding the bed empty beside himself.

"Where is he…?" he asked, his voice husky. Faramir handed him a glass of water, and he drank it eagerly, his throat feeling thick and scratchy.

"They took him out to the forest, the elves… They're trying to heal him, I suppose nature is the best thing for him… King Thranduil believes Saruman placed some sort of curse on Legolas, so that if he ever escaped Mordor, he would die slowly. It's very dark magic, not even the elves know how to stop it. Gandalf is on his way." Faramir informed his friend, looking at him seriously. "Whatever it is, it's been poisoning Legolas since we rescued him." He said. Aragorn felt numb, cold, devastated. What if Gandalf could not help? What if it was a curse that could only be lifted by the caster? Saruman was dead…was he not? Aragorn's soldiers had reported killing the wizard but…perhaps he had survived, or used some sorcery to create a double of himself, escaping before the fray…

"I have to see him." Aragorn said, pushing himself out of bed only to stagger as a wave of dizziness engulfed his sight. Faramir caught him and pushed him back onto the bed, cursing softly.

"No, you have to eat something and bathe, and sleep more. He is with his people, Aragorn, they will look after him. You have worsened just as he has, Aragorn, you are thin and exhausted." He said, a firm hand on Aragorn's shoulder to keep him sitting down. Aragorn was confused by this. It did not matter how he was feeling, Legolas was the person who matter. Legolas was the one who was hurt so badly, Aragorn was fine. Faramir glared down at him, apparently reading his mind. "You are important too, my friend. You have given so much of your attention to Legolas that you neglected yourself. Legolas told me that you have scarcely eaten more than he has." He said, demonstrating his point by easily pushing Aragorn onto his back, the King's weakness becoming clear. Aragorn struggled to right himself, still trying to protest, though he felt lightheaded from the movement which had aught to do with his head wound.

"But-"

"I will fetch your food, and ask Dagor to meet with you here. You are not to leave this bed except to use the privy. Understood?" Aragorn nodded meekly and settled himself back against the pillows, angry and sad and hungry.

It was two days before his doctor allowed Aragorn to travel to the forest to visit the elves. They were still his guest in every way but that they were not residing in his castle. They had set up a sort of village among the trees, a natural sanctuary for their souls, and a healing centre for their failing prince.

He was escorted by Dagor, whom he'd been speaking with regularly and from whom he'd learned that Legolas' life force was being slowly sapped by a powerful dark spell. Gandalf had arrived the morning before and he spent every moment since then with Legolas, trying to counter this curse but had, so far, been unable to do much more than relieve Legolas' pain.

Aragorn was terrified of seeing Legolas. He could not bear the thought of his proud, strong, healthy love reduced to an invalid, a shell of weakness and pain and decay. He had never feared this in their marriage, always thinking it would his own body that would fail and, though he hated the fact that Legolas would have to watch this and then live his life without Aragorn, it felt far worse to be the one in his shoes, selfish as it was to think of now.

They arrived in the early morning, having ridden about an hour from the castle to their destination. Faramir was with him, as well as the castle doctor and a handful of magic and herb scholars he hoped may be able to assist, though none before them had done more than report their deepest apologies to the King.

Aragorn dismounted unsteadily, though his head was no long bandaged and his strength had returned after Faramir's regimented schedule of food and sleep. He followed Dagor through the trees and between the tents and makeshift houses the elves were so gifted at creating. They came to the centre of the settlement, and Aragorn felt his eyes immediately sting with hot tears.

Legolas lay on a thick blanket of moss and flowers, a constructed, concentrated patch of meadow just for him. He wore loose white robes, his long blond hair shining around his head like a halo. He looked so much like a beautiful corpse laid out on a pier that Aragorn could hardly bear to look upon him, but there were signs that he was alive. His chest moved as he breathed, his skin glowing with an almost iridescent gleam. An elf woman dressed completely in green leaves and flowers knelt beside him, on hand on his forehead and the other on his flat stomach, and she was speaking softly, a form of Elvish Aragorn had never heard and did not understand. Dagor lead Aragorn over, but she did not look up, nor break her almost rhythm in her almost chant-like words.

"A healer from Lothlórien, Galadriel sent her."

"Galadriel?" Aragorn asked, wondering if the Lady of Lórien knew of Legolas' pain now, as she had when she helped them find him in Mordor. Dagor nodded, distractedly looking around for someone.

"Aragorn!" a familiar, rich voice called behind them, and they both turned to see Gandalf and Thranduil coming towards them. Aragorn's heart leaped to see the old wizard, always comforted by his sagely presence.

"Gandalf, my dear friend…" Aragorn said, walking over to meet him. They shared a hug, Gandalf patting his back affectionately, but with excessive gentleness.

"It is good to see you." He said when they parted, hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "I am sorry it is in these circumstances." He said, his face clearly haggard under his smile, Aragorn wondered if he looked the same way himself.

"Is there anything you can do?" he asked, very aware of how defeated he sounded even to his own ears. From what Dagor had told him, it seemed hopeless…

"Not I, my friend, but you can do something."Gandalf said and Aragorn looked into his eyes, trying to find hope. The old wizard sighed, and they walked back to where Legolas lay motionless among the wildflowers. The woman was still there, speaking her strange tongue. "The spell on Legolas is a powerful one, but it can be broken." He said. Aragorn resisted the urge to seize the old man and shake him until he told him what to do when he paused. "You may not believe me but…it can only be broken by true love." He said. Aragorn stared at him, thinking he must have gone insane. True love's kiss…that was only in children's stories, stories of brave knights rescuing damsels in distress, waking them from eternal sleep with something as simple as a single kiss.

Gandalf saw his expression, and laughed. Aragorn wanted to kill him. "I know it sounds utterly ridiculous, my friend, believe me. But where do you think those stories come from? It is ancient magic, older than Middle Earth I'd imagine, created when two people first loved each other."

"But…I…I have kissed Legolas many times since he has been back, how can the spell still-" Gandalf held up a hand, shaking his head gravely.

"Not a kiss, my friend, nothing so simple, I'm afraid… This is a dark, sexual spell, Saruman used it to claim ownership of Legolas' body, just as he did through raping him." He said. Aragorn winced, his heart aching. He did not know the details of what Legolas had been through during his time at Saruman's hands, he could not even imagine it. Simple knowing he'd been raped, even once, was enough to make Aragorn want to die for not protecting him.

"So…so I will need to…make love with Legolas? But…he's terrified, he told me..! I promised him he had no duty to me…I told him we could live our lives without physical love… I cannot force him...I won't…"

"If you have to force him, it will not work, my friend…" Gandalf said softly. "You must both want it, it must be completely mutual for the curse to be broken."

"But…that may never happen. He may never want me to touch him again…!" he said, tears burning his eyes again. "How…how long does he have?"

"At the rate of his decline in such a short period…I'm afraid not long. We have been able to bring some life back to him…the forest is certainly helping it to, at least, stay steady enough." The wizard looked into Aragorn's eyes sadly. "Speak to him, my friend, he misses you deeply."

"Alassiel seems to think telling you what happened in Mordor will help as well." Thranduil said. "She is well connected to her brothers' spirits, she knows their minds and souls better than anyone…I truly believe she is right. It is poisoning him, the words, the memories…if he can release them, release them to you, he may be able to fight them." He said, his hand on Aragorn's arm. The Kind swallowed thickly and took a deep breath.

"Yes… I will do anything I can to save him." He said. The King of the Elves smiled and hugged the Kind of Men, who then hugged the White Wizard. Thranduil said something to the woman beside Legolas, and she nodded, slowly removing her hands from his skin and his eyes blinked open. He looked serene for a moment, then his blue eyes moved to rest on Aragorn's face as he knelt beside him.

"Aragorn…" he said softly, his beautiful face brightening with a small smile. Aragorn grinned despite the tears in his eyes, and hugged his husband. He helped him stand, feeling how weak he truly was, and kissed him softly. "I missed you…" Legolas said. Aragorn nodded, holding him tightly.

"I missed you too, my love…" he said. Legolas looked at his father and Gandalf and sighed.

"They told you…?" he asked. Aragorn nodded, his hand on the small of Legolas' back.

"Yes…I want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what." Legolas smiled at him, and kissing him softly.

"I know…thank you…" he whispered as they hugged again, hope filling them that they would get through this together.

What can I say? It's a classic!

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