A/N - Sorry for the wait, this turned into a trilogy on me. This one is on hiatus until all of Forty-Eight Ways is posted. Cheers!
Chapter 12
Eomer slumped in his chair as Offa joined the kings in the study. "Malwyn wants you to know that the evening meal is ready whenever you care to eat, Lord King," the healer told him. "You have only to send word to the kitchens. She's arranged for it to be served in here." Eomer nodded and introduced the healer to Aragorn. Aragorn nodded and repeated his question.
"What don't I know?"
Eomer rubbed his head, smoothing back his hair. "He's showing signs of having the Horrors, Aragorn." he said bluntly. "We're trying not to upset him too much. Talking of Fangorn, Gimli or what happened to him seems to trigger nightmares and fits."
"Battle Horror?" Aragorn breathed out softly. "Legolas?" he added, in tones of disbelief, shaking his head. "He's an elf."
"It's still early days, Lord King," Offa said, calmly, "but he has injured himself in the episodes. Hopefully as his body heals he will be better able to deal with the trauma, but right now, it only complicates things."
"So you haven't even asked him?" Aragorn asked, falling back into his chair, horrified Eomer would neglect to take any action whatever to capture the thing terrorizing Fangorn.
"Of course I haven't asked him!" Eomer said, indignant at the criticism, leaning across the table. "What am I supposed to say? 'By the way, Legolas, what was it exactly that did this? What killed Gimli?' He can't remember yet. When he's drugged we get bits and pieces, so we know an Ent was involved somehow, but I'm not going to put him through that agony again for garbled information."
We have to know", Aragorn said, getting back to his feet and striding up and down the room. "We have to know what we're up against."
"I'm telling you, he doesn't remember!"
"Then we make him. Get him talking about it, get it all out now!"
"How? If you'd seen him, just last night, Aragorn, you'd fear the damage he'll do to himself. Let alone what happened when we told him Gimli was gone! We can't put him through that again!"
"Eomer! This isn't like you at all! You have to consider your people, their safety! I know you care deeply for him, but do you really think he'll thank you for this later? What if someone else is killed?"
"That's just it, no one outside of Fangorn is being menaced. No one lives in Fangorn, Aragorn. Can't we give him some more time to heal? I'm afraid he'll kill himself in his frenzy."
"He's out of control during the nightmares." Offa asked, seriously. "It took three of us to stop him, Aragorn King, and he tore through his splints like they were kindling."
Aragorn sat down again, accepted the cup of wine the healer offered. He took a sip, then looked over the rim of his goblet with serious eyes.
"I'm telling you, we have to chance it. What if you give him that potion, the one that knocks him out. Maybe we could get him to tell us while he's going to sleep, and that might not be to bad. He'd be under the effects of the medicines."
"I'm not doing anything if he doesn't agree to it," Eomer said, forcefully. "You're not just going to break his mind for answers, Aragorn! Especially when you leave and its me left to put the pieces back together."
"Its more than you seem to be doing," the Gondorian king retorted. The rest of his reproach was stopped by the opening of the door.
"This gets us nowhere," Arwen said, coming into the room. Eomer looked at her expectantly. "He's almost asleep, his nurse is with him. You do realize that we both can hear you arguing? He wants to speak with you before he falls asleep." She looked pointedly at Aragorn, then at Eomer. "Please, behave yourselves. You are both on the same side, after all."
The followed her as she swept back into the King's Chamber, her skirts rustling. Legolas, eyes half opened, lay back on the pillows, Malwyn humming softly to him from her chair.
"Why are you fighting?" Legolas asked the kings, groggily, as they came into his view. "What is it you want me to do?"
"We want you to remember," Aragorn said, softly. "We want to stop whatever did this to you." He sat on the bed, facing the elf and taking his hand. "We'll be here to help."
"I can't remember, Aragorn. 'Mer must have told you that." He looked accusingly at Eomer, who sat on the other side of him.
"Of course I told him, love." Eomer said, reaching out to stroke the elf's cheek. "But he's right, it is important that you try."
"I don't want to do this." Legolas protested. "I'm so tired, can't we try in the morning?"
"You need to, Legolas, and this way may be the safest for you. I'm sorry to have to ask it of you," Aragorn said. "It's the only way we can stop what's out there. Before what happened to Gimli happens to someone else."
Shame covered the elf's face, his eyes dropping in humiliation. "When you put it like that..." he said, his face twisting in agony. "'Mer? What's burning?"
"Just the fire and the lamps." Eomer said, looking around the room. The healer was mixing up another cup, while Malwyn had settled at the foot of the bed.
"I can smell smoke, it's awful." The elf twisted. "Someone's burning leather or something..."
Arwen moved extra pillows away and gently placed herself beside the elf's head. "Try and remember," Arwen said softly. She began to stroke the stubble affectionately. "What happened to Gimli?"
The elf inhaled sharply, held his breath. It came out in a hiss. "We went to Fangorn." He jolted, as if trying to spring out of the bed. His hand clutched convulsively at Aragorn's. His head twisted and his face contorted in fear.
"'Mer!" he shrieked. Eomer grabbed the other, flailing hand, caressing Legolas' cheek.
"I'm here, love. We're all here, and you're safe. There's nothing can hurt you here." Eomer looked with panic at Arwen, who radiated peace as she continued to stroke the shaven head.
"You are safe," she whispered. "We love you and will help you." Legolas' breathing began to even out again. "Can you remember what happened to Gimli?"
Pain filled the blue eyes, then the lids came down, blocking her out, blocking them all out. "He died, Arwen. He died, when the screaming stopped." Legolas answered in a terrible voice.
"What stopped the screaming?" she asked, closing her own eyes against the horror.
"His death."
The smoke was swirling around him now, the burning smell of his own hair, of Gimli's flesh. The fetid blackness wrapped around him, the silence now ominous. And then the laughter.
"Kill me!" he screamed, ignoring the pain in his chest, his leg as he stood on the shattered knee. He wiped the blood from his eyes, spat it from his mouth. He had no weapon left now, not even a stick. Only his fury and determination.
"Kill you?" the mocking voice said, the cruel tones filling his ears, his mind. "Oh, no, you hold your life too cheaply. You would count it a blessing to join your friend now. You will live, elf, and know that it was you who killed him. You, who brought axes to Fangorn."
He flew at the voice, fighting, clawing with his nails, kicking out with his broken leg. "Take me!"
He was swatted away, as easily as a fly. He charged at his tormentor again. The great hands beat at him, scourging him with branch like fingers, knocking him down again. "Insolent elf! You will live, it is a greater punishment."
"Give me his body," the elf begged, lifting himself up from the churned up earth and ash with his unbroken arm, "Give me that at least."
The Ent pulled something smouldering out of the fire. "This?" he laughed, holding the charred remains upside down by the boot. He laughed even harder as he threw it over the trees, the boot staying in his hand. He dropped it and stamped away. The elf fought his way to his feet, took a step and dropped again.
"Ent" he screamed, in defiance. "I will have him!" The laughter mocked him even as sweet oblivion took him away.
"S'my fault," he said, to the stunned group, holding him, surrounding him with their love, preventing the struggles of the previous night. "S'my fault Gimli's dead." He looked at them, his voice pleading, some recognition returning to his face. "Let me go to him, let me die!"
Tears flowing down her face, Arwen bent and kissed Legolas' forehead. The hot splash on his cheek brought Legolas to more recollection of himself, for his eyes cleared, and he looked at them, wonderingly.
"'Mer?" he asked, voice slurred from the powerful drugs. "Where am I? Did I remember it?"
"Home, with me." Eomer told him, wiping away his own tears. "You remembered enough."
"Good, I had the most awful dreams. Why is Arwen crying?" He pulled up the hand entwined in Eomer's, rubbing the back of his own against Arwen's cheek.
"She's worried about you, love. How are you feeling now?"
"Very tired. Can I sleep here with you tonight?"
"Of course," the king told him, as the exhausted eyes closed once again and the elf dropped off to sleep. Malwyn wiped his face with warm cloths, settling him back into the pillows.
"Arwen, would you and Malwyn, stay with him until I get back?" Eomer asked, controlled fury in his voice. "Aragorn, Offa, I want to talk to you, now!" He led them out of the bedchamber and into the study.
Arwen shifted to the side of the bed, and began to sing in Sindarin, a child's lullaby. The elf's face relaxed. Malwyn smiled her gratitude at the Queen.
"We are never doing that again. Ever. So don't ask." Eomer snapped, turning on the other two. "We know it was an Ent. We head for Fangorn in the morning." He raised a hand at Aragorn's protest.
"In the morning, Aragorn. He wants me with him tonight, and that's where I'm staying." He turned to face the healer. "I know what you're going to say, Offa. With you, Arwen and Malwyn, he won't feel abandoned."
"How are we going to find the Ent?" Aragorn asked, pouring wine for them all and wiping the sweat from his face. The elf's revelations had shaken him more than he realized.
"We're going to raze Fangorn." Eomer told him, accepting his cup.
"You can't!" Aragorn protested "It's barbaric!"
"I'm a barbarian, Aragorn," Eomer said, his face growing dark, "especially where my family is concerned."
Aragorn looked at Eomer, puzzled. Eomer held up his right hand, and Aragorn noticed for the first time the plain silver band on the first finger. "I hadn't appreciated all the circumstances, Eomer. My apologies."
Eomer passed his hand over his eyes for a moment. Aragorn reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. Eomer nodded and drank his wine.
"Now," he continued, "you can come with us, and if you want, you can try your elvish skills on the Ents. Or you can stay here and nurse him. Me, I'm taking the direct approach. Whatever did that to him," and he gestured toward the closed chamber door, "will die slowly and with great pain."
"We don't even know which Ent it was, let alone why it did this. If you lay waste to Fangorn, you'll only exacerbate the problem." Aragorn pointed out. "That's revenge, not justice,"
"Right now the two seem interchangeable. And I don't care why!" He brought his face very close to Aragorn's. "Barbarian, remember."
After their plans had been set, he returned to the bedchamber, where Arwen continued to sing softly. Malwyn sat by the fire, tending to Hroth, who looked desolate.
Arwen stood to greet him as he made his way to the bed. "He hasn't moved, Eomer. Malwyn thinks he'll sleep through now." She reached out to touch the big man's face. "This must be so hard on you, to have him like this," she said.
"Better to have him like this than not at all," he replied softly, taking her hand and kissing it. "You go, eat, rest up. I'll stay with him now, and Aragorn can fill you in on our plans. You, too, Malwyn." he said over his shoulder. "I can take care of things tonight, and he's not going to be happy with me in the morning, I'll need your support."
After the women left, Eomer sighed, and tugged off his boots. He changed quickly into his nightclothes, wrapping himself in his robe, and settled down with a final cup of wine. His eyes flickered between the dancing flames and the sleeping elf. Poor, poor Gimli, he thought. He only half registered when Hroth got up and moved beside the bed. The huge dog was a good indicator of how Legolas was feeling. Hroth slumped to the floor, curled up and closed his eyes.
"He's alright, then, is he?" Eomer said softly, reaching down to scratch behind Hroth's ear. The dog whuffed once, and relaxed under his touch. The elf stirred at the man's voice.
"'Mer?" he asked sleepily, reaching out with the unbroken arm.
"Right here, love," Eomer said, gently, slipping onto the bed. He held the seeking hand, as Legolas slept on.
0o0o
"Legolas, love, I need to talk to you." Eomer said, seriously the next morning. The elf, surprised by the worried tone in the man's voice, looked up.
"I must go away for a few days. It is something I cannot leave to others. I'm sure you understand that." Eomer told him, sitting down beside him.
"Where are you going?" the elf asked, looking troubled.
"Fangorn. I'm going to bring Gimli back." he sad, sorrow filling his eyes.
Legolas swallowed hard, while terror and pain flickered across his face to immediately replaced by stubbornness. "I'm coming."
Eomer smiled wryly, "Oh, no, you are not, love. Arwen is going to stay here with you, feed you elvish dainties and look after you. Malwyn and Offa will be right here as well. You will be perfectly safe."
"I'm coming. You're not going back there without me. I can ride."
"You can't sit up yet without pain. You are staying in that bed."
"No, I'm not." Legolas pulled himself up, ignoring the pain of the scabs on his back, his ribs, his knee. "You can tie me to Arod if you have to. But I'm going."
"I'll tie you to the bed if I have to. But you will stay here."
Tears of frustration filled the blue eyes. "I can't. I have to go."
"I'm leaving you here with Arwen and Malwyn. Will you fight women to get loose? I have to warn you, Malwyn keeps a knife in her boot, and Arwen could take you in a fight right now. You stay here. I'm not risking you again."
Fury filled the elf's face. "Risk? You don't know what's out there, Eomer King! If it did this to me, what will it do to you?"
"Don't you understand? If you were in any condition to fight, I would take you with me! There's no one I'd rather have at my back. But you stay here. Don't fight me on this, Legolas. I'm not having it."
The elf fell back on the pillows in frustration. "I want it. Whatever did this, I want it. I want to carve it into little pieces myself. Do you understand me?"
One berserk elf, consumed by revenge. He doesn't need to sleep for days at a time, he's stronger than any man, and he's crafty. This is going to be fun, Eomer thought to himself.
"I am king, Legolas, and you will stay here!" Eomer said, command in his voice, knowing it was futile.
"Not my king," the elf muttered.
"Then, as you love me, listen to me. Twice I've nearly lost you. A third time will kill me. I'm asking, no, I'm begging you, for my sake, stay here. Rest. If we can bring it in alive, we will."
"I'm not happy about this, 'Mer," the elf said, stung by his words. "What happens to me if anything happens to you?"
"Nothing happens to me," Eomer said, bending to kiss the elf's head. "I'm a barbarian. We always make it through."
