XI
Peeling aside the blanket, Legolas picked up Elrohir's hand and held it in his own. The bandages had been stripped away to reveal the extent of the infected, festering burns that patched Elrohir's arm and crawled over the rest of his body.
Fear took over him, but he pushed it aside.
If I should fail, death will claim us both; so be it.
Clasping Elrohir's hand, Legolas sent a tentative surge of magic into Elrohir. He gasped as he felt Elrohir absorb it like parched soil clamouring for moisture. Startled, he let go, feeling the connection between them sever.
Waves of doubt came over him, and he started pacing the room. While the first-born were no strangers when it came to magic, Legolas had been endowed with a potent spring that allowed him to draw strength from the boundless source of energy that held all livings things together. It was a skill that lay deep within his veins, powerful and dormant. Even years of study and practice with learned loremasters like Elrond had left them stumped as to its true nature and power, and so he had always treated it with great caution and used it with reluctance.
But now Elrohir needed his aid, for his wounds were so severe and his body so depleted of strength that it could no longer heal itself. Despite Elladan's overriding reassurances and pleas not to lose hope, Legolas knew there was little chance of recovery unless he intervened.
And he must intervene, for he could not imagine a life without his harbour of a Star-warrior. Valar, it would be as empty as a quiver without any arrows, pointless as a king without a state.
But the magic was unpredictable and difficult to rein in once it took over. The danger of it breaking through Legolas's tentative control was too real, and it would consume -- and kill -- them both.
So be it, he thought for the second time.
Striding over to Elrohir with confident steps this time, Legolas took up his hand and unleashed the magic without a second thought. It took over instantly, filling his ears with a dreadful hum, filling his soul with emotions so powerful he wanted to rip at his heart to heed them.
And all this magic Elrohir's tired body gulped in, just as Legolas felt his mind start to give in to its attractive buzzing.
Sudden awareness came back to Legolas, and he pulled back from where he had been ready to leap over the brink. Slowly at first, then with every ounce of strength left in his body, he bit down hard on his lips as he overcame the force of the magic, beating it into submission, filing it into a narrow point, ready to be applied to Elrohir.
Once he was sure of his hold on the power, Legolas carefully brought up a partition within his mind. With one, he called upon the bond he shared with Elrohir, and the other he held his emotions in custody. Twice he almost lost control and sent them crashing to their deaths, but twice he grasped at the ropes of restraint and hauled them back away from the sheer drop.
He let out a low hum, feeling the air around them sigh with contentment. Another followed, then another, until he was singing in a voice of the most ancient creatures, singing of his love for Elrohir and the bonds that held them together.
And he felt it then. The tear in Elrohir's right lung, missed by the healers, just small enough to escape detection.
Legolas continued singing as he brought the needle of magic deep within Elrohir's chest, holding it above the tear, then manipulating it, adding a thread, then stitches, as the gap was slowly closed up.
A sudden surge of magic broke through Legolas's control, and it flooded Elrohir's lungs, smoothing the bruises, spreading outwards and mending a rift in a rib..
Crying out loud, Legolas wrenched himself free and collapsed against the bed, kneeling by Elrohir. Not a shred of energy remained within him, and all he could do was to draw deep, shuddery breaths, eyes still fixed upon Elrohir.
The minutes ticked by, but Legolas could not find the strength to move. He was cloaked in a thick layer of perspiration, and he hurt from the exertion.
When Elladan knocked and entered the room, he found Legolas standing in the balcony, hands pressing down on the railing of live, sculpted branches.
"Eldarion wishes to know if you would allow him to sit with Roh," Elladan said.
Legolas made a small noise of assent, but did not turn around.
"Could I examine him?"
Again that same noise of assent without other movement.
Walking over to Elrohir, Elladan noted how his breathing was less shallow. He took up his brother's hand and frowned when he felt his pulse.
"Legolas? Have you noticed how he seems to be breathing deeper?"
"Aye, that I have," Legolas whispered.
"And his pulse is stronger."
Legolas did not answer.
"Legolas?" Elladan took a step away from Elrohir. "What is wrong, Legolas?"
Hearing Elladan approach, Legolas brought up a palm and wiped at his cheeks hastily.
"Valar, Legolas," Elladan said, hugging him.
Immediately, Legolas picked up a whiff of his scent, so maddeningly close to Elrohir's, yet somehow so different.
"I would not raise your hopes for naught, but it seems he is improving, Legolas. Take strength from that."
Legolas nodded, then said, "It hurts me so much to see him thus."
Elladan's grip tightened.
"It hurts me too."
Wiping at his face again, Legolas turned to face Elladan, who let out a strangled cry as he saw how sunken Legolas's eyes appeared, how lined his face looked.
"Sweet Eru, Legolas; you look as if you have had every ounce of strength sucked from you!"
Legolas continued to hold his gaze with his intense, but exhausted azure eyes.
"Please, Legolas, you must take some rest. I am worried for you --"
Legolas's eyes widened, and he broke away from Elladan as his gaze was drawn to Elrohir.
Striding over, he took Elrohir's hand as Elrohir starting taking in deeper breaths. Finally, with a sharp inhalation, Elrohir's body shuddered, and he let out a low croak. He tried to speak, but found that he could not.
"Peace, Roh. I am here," Legolas said, lying a palm on Elrohir's forehead. "'Tis me, 'tis your Lass."
His tears tumbled down again, and he fought back any sounds which might indicate his distress to Elrohir.
Seeing Legolas struggle to maintain his composure, Elladan stepped in.
"It has been many days since we found you, Roh, and you are very hurt. You cannot speak because we had to put a tubing in your throat to nourish you, and you might find moving difficult. But you must recover, Roh, 'else Legolas would be left here, alone."
Legolas's tear-rimmed gaze swept to Elladan, his eyes suddenly flashing with anger.
"Would you leave him, Roh?" Elladan said, ignoring Legolas's livid glare.
"Rest, Roh," Legolas said, pressing his palm to Elrohir's cheek, watching as Elrohir gave in to the lull of sleep again.
"Not here," Elladan said as Legolas rose vehemently to face him.
Trembling with rage and storming after Elladan into the dining room, Legolas slammed the door hard behind him.
"How dare you!" he cried.
Facing up to Legolas's formidable gaze, Elladan swallowed hard.
"I have tended to him since he was found, Legolas, and not once have I ever felt him fight to recover! He has lost his spirit, Legolas, 'twas why he failed to heal! I would rather worry him than see him succumb to his wounds without a fight! He must not give up! There is little we can do unless he helps himself."
The gleam that flitted through Legolas's eyes made Elladan feel distinctly uneasy.
"Legolas?"
There was a sudden rustling, and Legolas turned away.
"Eldarion is here."
"You are hiding something from me, Legolas. Tell me!"
"I do not like to have him wait."
Elladan sighed.
"I only want to help, Legolas."
"And I know that, Elladan, I know."
Just as Elladan thought Legolas was about to give in to his plea, Legolas left the room without a second glance behind.
Sighing, he followed after to find Legolas talking quietly to Eldarion in the entrance hall. Neither looked at him approach, and Elladan bit back another frustrated noise. Eldarion had taken his sister's death and uncle's incapacitation hard, and the only person he was inclined to even listen to was Legolas. The rest of his time he spent holed up in his room, refusing to answer his door. It was only upon Elladan's all but forced entry earlier in the day that he finally looked at his uncle and agreed to visit Elrohir.
"Come, Eldarion. Roh awoke earlier and may do so again. Dan and I have some matters to attend to and we would like someone to sit by him."
Eldarion nodded and followed Legolas into the sitting room which had been converted into a healing chamber for Elrohir.
Taking up the chair beside Elrohir, Eldarion looked up at Legolas all of a sudden.
"Uncle Lass, please rest. You look terrible."
Legolas and Elladan glanced at each other as he looked down at Elrohir again. It had been long since Eldarion had spoken and longer still since he expressed concern for another.
"I will do so after sending this missive," Legolas said.
x
That night, Legolas sent Elladan and Eldarion on their ways while he returned to Elrohir's side. He had managed an hour's sleep that afternoon, and now felt ready to treat Elrohir again.
Once again, he took Elrohir's hand and called upon the magic, noting that it was easier to summon it this time. Taking a while to grapple with it, he soon decided he had enough control to begin, and so he brought it onto Elrohir's individual burns, soothing them, encouraging new skin over the dead and diseased, beating the infections away.
And the healing proceeded at great speed. Aided on by Legolas's strength, fresh tissue took over. Once or twice, Legolas thought his grip would slip, but each time he yanked it back within his fingers.
He was weaker than ever as midnight came and went, and it was everything he had to finally call in the magic back into dormancy, whereupon he lay by the bed, raking in every bandage and burn that still remained. He could not move till dawn.
x
Eldarion came across Legolas in the drill-yard, attacking the wooden post with such ferocity that he had to take a while to compose himself before he dared to approach any closer.
Swinging around, Legolas slammed his forearm into the main trunk of the post while embedding a blunt knife into the splintered top of the post with a savage cleave. Watching the wood-chips float away with the wind, it was a while before he spotted Eldarion cowering behind a tree.
Instantly, his scowling mien softened, and his eyes took on a gentle look. Since coming to Ithilien, Eldarion had remained reserved and unwilling to speak unless first addressed, and save his desire to sit beside Elrohir, it had been nigh impossible to get him to partake in any activities.
Although he recognised Eldarion's grief for his sister, Legolas was too occupied with trying to keep his own pain in check and his own strength up in supporting Elrohir. While most of his injuries had healed, Elrohir's eyes remained sealed shut by infection, angry red marks that served to Legolas of his failure to heal his mate. And now, his guilt at having left Eldarion to stew in his loss unchecked, without any guidance, came back to him. After all, Aragorn had entrusted Eldarion to him so because he believed Legolas was able to provide his son with the best care.
Thinking of his guilt brought with it indignant feelings: what right had Aragorn and Arwen to assume that Legolas should take responsibility for Eldarion? Legolas was his uncle, not his father!
"Uncle Lass?" Eldarion said, unsure of what else to do as he saw the way Legolas's eyes were gleaming with thinly-suppressed frustration. He had always known Legolas to be imperturbable, and this barely-controlled version of his uncle scared him more than anything.
At once, Legolas chided himself. How could he question Aragorn's actions? He knew that Legolas loved Eldarion as he would his own son, and only turned to Legolas for help because he was the only one who could render it.
A thin smile curled his lips as a wave of sanguine amusement soaked his thoughts. Still, better to laugh than cry.
"Yes, Eldarion?" he said, quite unaware that his mask was not quite as unreadable as he would have liked.
"I thought maybe you might have liked to ride in the woods, but seeing as to how you are busy --"
"Nonsense, Eldarion. Elladan is sitting with Roh, and I could use some exercise."
"But you have been practicing --"
"Not nearly enough! My body is stiff from inactivity! Come, let us fetch Wedimin and Narwin from the stables!"
"Are you sure of this? You seem tired."
The anger was directed at Eldarion this time.
"What are you suggesting? That I am too weak to follow a sparring session with a wooden block with a ride?"
"I ask because my eyes tell me something that your words deny."
Legolas tried his best to skirt the issue, but his resolve failed him completely.
"It is but a block!" he cried, kicking the stump, shattering the post.
The tears flowed freely down his face, but he turned and leapt into the tree before Eldarion could see them.
Stunned, Eldarion tried to approach him.
"Go away!" Legolas muttered through his silent sobs.
Eldarion found that his own control was sliding out of grasp too.
"I came here to ask if you thought Uncle Roh would heal completely."
Whatever filaments of control Legolas had went crashing down alongside the walls as he let out a small cry.
"Please come down, Uncles Lass! Please, do not cry!"
"Legolas? Eldarion?"
Legolas stiffened upon hearing Elladan's approach. He had broken down enough in front of the older peredhel and had no intention of adding to that tally.
Elladan rushed forward and took Eldarion to his chest, making soothing, comforting noises as Eldarion continued to weep.
"I am so afraid for Uncle Roh!" Eldarion gulped. "I do not want him to go blind!"
Alarm registered on Elladan's already knitted brow. While secretly relieved that Eldarion was finally letting himself grieve, Elladan knew that Legolas's fraught state would only be exacerbated by Eldarion's upset words.
"No he will not, because Uncle Lass and I are helping him heal. Already we have seen much improvement. That, surely, you cannot have missed."
"Is Elrohir alone?" Legolas gasped.
"Aye."
Legolas slithered down the tree and entered the house, leaving Elladan to comfort Eldarion. There was only so much he could give to anybody else, and he had made up his mind that it was Elrohir and Elrohir alone that he had enough energy to concern himself over.
Once by Elrohir, his stomach clenched at the sight of the bandages over Elrohir's eyes. Legolas had employed a variety of different methods but had found himself unable to heal them.
Elrohir stirred before the parting of his lips indicated his return to consciousness.
As always, Legolas took his hand to indicate his presence, only to be met with a stony silence.
"Roh? Would you like a drink?"
Again, Elrohir did not answer, but instead played a passive role as Legolas fed him.
Forcing more cheer into his voice, Legolas said, "'Tis almost time for dinner. Any special requests?"
Not unexpectedly, Elrohir shook his head, allowing a small noise to escape his throat.
Legolas curled his fists and pressed them to his side. Elrohir had been near impossible to speak to since he had awoken to a world of darkness, only addressing the briefest of sentences to Legolas and no one else. It was a situation which neither Elladan nor Legolas relished, and both watched this latest development with growing alarm.
Having considered, then abandoned, the idea of losing his control at Elrohir, Legolas opted for a softer option instead.
"Gimli seeks your permission to visit."
"He needs it not."
A laugh which sounded so patently false to Legolas rang through the room.
"You know he is reluctant to visit Ithilien, for do you not recall what transgressed the last time he was here? I for one shall never forget the offended look on his face! Of course, it serves him right for wandering into our bathing grounds!"
Elrohir gave a half-smile, but did not supply any further conversation.
"Do you feel strong enough to walk, Roh?"
"Mayhap."
"Would you like to come with me? I wish for you to do so."
"If you wish."
Legolas hurried to the adjacent room and re-emerged with a long cane. Despite having cured all of Elrohir's injuries save for his eyes, he knew it would be a while before Elrohir worked up his wasted muscles to be able to walk without any support once more.
He was gratified to see that Elrohir had pulled himself to sit by the edge of the bed.
Helping Elrohir into a gown, Legolas put the cane in his hands.
"Adar used this cane while he was recovering from the injuries he sustained at Dargoland. He left it behind when he sailed to Aman."
Elrohir accepted it without any word, and allowed Legolas to help him to his feet. More than once a completely unfamiliar sense of weakness surged through him and he almost fell, but Legolas tightened his hold each time and held him steady.
Halfway through the corridor, Elrohir was overwhelmed by pain and found himself leaning against the wall, panting heavily.
"Roh?"
"I cannot go further," Elrohir gasped, struggling to suck more air into his wheezing lungs.
Legolas hid the dismay from his voice.
"We are almost there, Roh."
"Where are you taking me?"
"You must wait. I know you can go further, Roh."
Elrohir bit down hard on the insides of his cheeks. He could feel himself losing the battle to stay upright. It was so tempting just to give up and fall to the ground, allowing the all-prevalent blackness to claim him. What was the point of going further? Why was Legolas pushing him so hard?
Something in Elrohir gave way, and he allowed his cane to slip and for himself to go crashing forward.
Caught off-guard, Legolas gave a cry. He tried to steady Elrohir, but found he was too weak to keep his spouse's heavier frame upright.
"Roh!"
He sat on the floor and gathered Elrohir into his arms, clenching his teeth so hard he thought his jaw would pop. Bringing Elrohir closer to him, he saw hot tears started to trickle, then pour down Elrohir's distressed but unseeing eyes. Eyes that were still bandaged, that refused to heal.
"I can go no further," Elrohir moaned, barely feeling Legolas's arms around him. "Do not make me do so, please."
Legolas found his apology, his words of comfort, stick to the roof of his mouth, refusing to heed his will, his feeble attempts to push them past his throat. He stared down at Elrohir, feeling as lost as he had ever been his whole life. It had always been him looking to Elrohir for his support and as a ballast through the turbulence, right from the moment he had seen Elrohir sitting by his bed in the Houses of Healing as a small child, when he saw Elrohir watching over him, keeping him safe as he slept.
And now, he was expected to keep Elrohir afloat. Elrohir, who felt the crushing weight of guilt upon him. Of having failed to protect his niece from harm, of failing Aragorn and Arwen.
Pressing his lips to Elrohir's forehead a few times, Legolas still did not speak.
"Why?" Elrohir muttered.
"Come, Roh, I will carry you if your legs will not take you."
Elrohir resumed his passive state while reigning in his tears and allowed Legolas to hoist him onto his back. He heard the deep breaths Legolas was fighting to take, heard the way Legolas tried to restrain the sounds of exertion escaping him as he carried Elrohir's larger frame.
And still, Elrohir did nothing, keeping his peace as the air turned cooler.
"Am I hurting you?" Legolas said, barely able to speak. The loss of strength that had occurred with his healing Elrohir had left him more drained than he thought.
"No," Elrohir said, his expression still stoic.
Legolas placed him gently by a large tree that grew in the middle of the garden, casting its silent gaze over the tranquil haven which offered so little peace to its inhabitants of late. Taking Elrohir's palm, Legolas brought it to his lips and placed a few kisses on it, before interlacing their fingers together and placing their palms against the rough bark.
Elrohir felt the surge of life flood through him as Legolas made a connection with the tree. Its wisdom, its sorrow, its joy all merged with theirs, mingling, mixing, almost bubbling over.
Then, Elrohir became aware of another presence, a gentle, lively one just out of his vision as he tried to see it. He reached out, but his fingers closed around nothing.
He had not the time to despair as arms were thrown around his neck and a few kisses bestowed on his face.
And then came the parting, more painful than he thought was possible, as the atmosphere grew dark once more, the sunshine taken away along with the young life. Elrohir wanted to cry, but found that he could not. He felt the warm, strong presence of his mate, of Legolas holding his hand, pressing against him, cradling him.
"She does not blame you," Legolas said, his voice still sounding a million leagues away. "She wants you to know she has naught but love and regard for you still."
Coming back to the present, Elrohir tried to make sense of what he had just experienced but found that he could not.
"Could you do that again, so that we could sense her again?" Elrohir whispered.
Legolas's sadness lined every word he uttered.
"Alas, Elmaethor. If only it were so; the parting would only be a false one had I the power to recall the dead and speak with them. Nay, Roh, Elessiel stayed because she wanted to be sure of your safety, of your recovery. Now, she has gone to someplace we shall not be able to follow. She has joined her mortal forebears, where they may rest in eternal peace. She has gone to wait for her parents and her loved ones, who will one day make their last journey themselves."
"May she find some peace away from this world, then," Elrohir muttered. "I wish it were sooner coming for us."
"I know what you might ask of me, Roh, but I will break this oath I swore to you if it meant leaving Estel and Arwen behind to mourn the loss of their child. They put on masks and play games of charades, but Valar knows how much it hurts them every time they are faced with an empty place at the table, every time they hurry past her unopened door."
Elrohir did not answer. Aragorn's children had been as precious to him as his own, maybe even more so given that he would never have them. Now, he understood what it meant to fail in the protection of one so dependant on himself. Every waking thought he had was of Elessiel, of her hearty laughter, of her sunny disposition, and how it had been put to an end without so much as a warning.
"Do you agree with me, Roh?' Legolas said.
Unable to see, Elrohir found it was not any easier to discern and ignore the need for reassurance and strength coming from Legolas. Even now he knew that Legolas was biting the insides of his cheek and trying to keep a frown from making its way to his face.
"If it is what you wish," Elrohir said, turning away.
"This is not about me, Roh!" Legolas cried. "Valar, Roh, please, tell me what you are thinking."
"Aught that you decide is good enough for me."
A single tear slid down Legolas's cheek. This defeated, broken Elrohir was even worse than the one who lay unconscious, fighting for his life. A million sentences of comfort, of attempts to drive the pain away came to Legolas, but to him they sounded too crass for Elrohir's ears, so he stayed his tongue.
He reached out with his mind, attempting to touch Elrohir's consciousness with his own, so that he could show Elrohir what he was feeling. In doing so, he caught a brief glimpse of Elrohir's despair, before iron walls came crashing down between their minds, forcing him to take hasty steps back into the refuge of his own thoughts.
Stunned by the first time Elrohir had ever shut him away in such a harsh and brusque manner, he took a step away from Elrohir, hurt lining his drawn face.
Elrohir turned to look at him, face impassive.
"Why do you draw from me thusly, Elrohir?"
"I apologise, for being so naïve as to believe that what I could offer you could take the place of the absence in your heart. I see that it was callow and unreasonable of me to demand that of you, that I would be a replacement enough for that of a child you loved."
"On the contrary, Roh, it was your love that kept me through the darkest hours that followed death. It is worth so much to me that everything and anything pales in comparison. I am sorry what I can offer is not enough for you."
Elrohir found himself growing angry at what he knew was a perfectly reasonable accusation. He stared ahead, refusing to speak of it any further.
Realising that he should not have made such a leap, Legolas said, "I apologise, Roh. It was silly of me to think what I give you is not enough."
Faced with Legolas's apology, Elrohir suddenly thought he had had enough of this meaningless tango.
"Nay, Lass, 'tis just that my heart hurts so much I believe it will never heal again. I see Elessiel everywhere I turn, for her face fills up my sight, filling the blackness even.
"Why did I survive when she fell? Could it not have been me who perished in her place?"
"And leave me here alone?" Legolas whispered.
"Whatever I do, 'twill only bring more hurt to you, Lassnen. Valar, I am so inadequate!"
"No, Roh, no!" Legolas cried. "Please, say no more of this; I will hear no more of your self-abasement!"
"Then I shall hold my peace."
Legolas let out a shuddery breath, before he collected his scattered wits.
"What you should hold onto, my love, is to the thought of recovery. Your eyes --"
"May never see again, I know."
"Do not say that, Roh!"
"I know it to be true, Lass! I will not hide from the obvious. I am lucky to be alive, that Mandos decided to close his doors to me this time."
"Because he wished for you to be here with me, Roh. Please, say no more of this; I shall take you back to rest!"
"What decides between who lives and who dies?" Elrohir said.
"Please, Roh. Come, we shall have no more of this."
He took Elrohir's hand and led them back to the room, resolving to try the healing again once Elrohir had fallen asleep.
xxxxx
Sindarin Translations:
Elmaethor - star-warrior
Lassnen- my Lass
