I give up, the Noldo complained, rolling onto his back to stare at the fading stars through the openings between the tree's branches. I will get no sleep, and the sun will rise soon anyway. Extending his arms under his head, Elrohir stretched out further, struggling to remain lying on the ground. If he rose another time to check on his brothers, Tirn, or the Prince, he quite feared that Jalian would make good on his promise and would try to sing him to sleep. He was not sure that the mercenary could not sing; however, Elrohir was not eager to test the man's flippant offer or his musical talent.
Although the Firstborn didn't require as much sleep as the Secondborn, he had partaken of little rest during their journey here and the strain of being the only uninjured and competent Elf in their party weighed heavily upon him. It would be Elrohir's task to see that his brothers and friends were safe and healthy, and though he would see to this undertaking willingly, he felt overwhelmed by it already. Moreover, it was the fear for his two brothers, his lack of complete trust in the mercenary, and the failing Wood-Elves that had kept the younger Noldo from finding any much-needed rest of his own. When we get to Eryn Galen, I will sleep for a week. Tossing about restlessly, Elrohir tried a final time to find comfort where he lay, to find rest.
His fidgety activity did not go unnoticed, however, and the mercenary called to him from across the campfire, though his voice was barely a whisper, "I don't see why I'm awake if you don't plan to sleep, Elf."
Elrohir smiled. He reminds me of Elladan. Neither of them has ever learnt when it is best to keep one's thoughts to himself. Sitting abruptly, the Noldo first glanced around the clearing, quickly checking by the peaceful rise and fall of each chest that all of his patients were both asleep and well, before he turned to glare at the mercenary. If I told Elladan that Jalian and he have much in common, I am sure that Elladan would beat me senseless. His smile undermining his glare, the twin added wistfully, At least then I could find some rest.
"Then go to sleep, Jalian. I've no wish to deal with another grumpy human. Strider will be a terror by nightfall tomorrow."
Snorting softly, the scarred mercenary stirred the flames of the fire with a long branch, "It's almost sun up, now. No point in me sleeping."
My thoughts exactly. He rolled onto his knees, and then climbed to his feet to walk across the clearing where Tirn lay motionless on the ground beside where the mercenary sat. The sentry's condition had not changed during the long night: his pale skin had grown no less white, his dark and sunken eyes had not opened, and his breath still came in shallow and futile gasps, though these had grown deeper and calmer as time passed.
Elladan checked Tirn's injuries for infection and ascertained that the Wood-Elf would be well enough for travel. He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment as tears stung them, blurring his vision of the sentry's hand as he re-wrapped the wound. You promised you would not return without Legolas, Tirn. You have completed your duty. He rose, ignoring the mercenary's questioning glance as he rubbed his eyes briskly free of the bothersome tears welling there. Only a few feet away from Tirn lay his sleeping brothers and the Prince, their bodies side by side, with the Ranger in the middle. They would both be awake by now if we were home, the Noldo thought of his twin and human brother and their propensity to rise early. He grabbed his nearby satchel to settle on the ground between them to tend their injuries, hoping not to wake them as he changed their bandaging, also.
Peering down at his twin and human sibling, Elrohir imagined that the peaceful slumber in which the Noldo and Ranger were engaged was that of normal sleep. If not for the bandages and gaunt, dirtied appearances, the brothers could have been sleeping in their soft beds in Imladris, for all the care they exhibited, and the Noldo smiled at the contented imagining.
In contrast, Elrohir was surprised that the Prince had lasted the night. He needs to be with his father and people, even if it is only for the short time before he fades, the Noldo thought, adjusting the blanket over the nearby Aragorn when finished checking the human's scorched flesh. Much to Elrohir's amazement, as the edge of the Ranger's blanket, the edge that Legolas had been holding, slipped from the Prince' fingers, the Wood-Elf stirred and then awoke completely with a mere blink of his eyes, which then focused unerringly on the Noldo.
"Is something amiss?" the Prince inquired, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Is everyone well?"
"Nothing is amiss," Elrohir placated. He gently, uselessly pressed the archer's uninjured shoulder to keep him from rising from the ground: with a pained grunt, the Wood-Elf rose regardless to look around the clearing. "And everyone is well, Legolas. But since you are awake, let me see to your thigh."
Without answering, the Silvan scrambled to his knees to check the status of his friends for himself, and seeing ostensibly that Tirn, Elladan, and Aragorn were all well, sat back on his heels in relief. "Tirn?"
"His condition has not changed," Elrohir replied, feeling as discouraged as the Prince that the sentry showed no signs of an improved state. Tentatively, Elrohir reached for the cloth wrapped around the Wood-Elf's thigh, his gaze not leaving the archer's to verify that Legolas would not react violently to his handling. The Prince was besieged by a bout of coughing, though, his body heaving forward with the force of it: Elrohir held the Silvan up, supporting the archer from falling when Legolas could not intake any air with which to continue coughing. The sting of tears came over Elrohir once again when he saw the blood covering the Silvan's hand and chin, expelled from the archer's lungs.
"Here," he told Legolas, giving him a swatch of cloth to wipe clean the blood from his face. The Prince nodded his thanks, still unable to breathe. "Your thigh…" the Noldo began but was interrupted by the mercenary, who had brought with him a flask of water for Legolas. " Thank you, Jalian."
He helped the Silvan to drink, worrying over how to convince the Prince to let him see his arrow wound on his upper leg: he was not as comfortable as his brother was in giving help where it was not wanted. Like Elladan, Elrohir had learnt from his father how to coax anxious or otherwise unwilling patients into accepting treatment with an outwardly callous and detached demeanor. The problem for Elrohir was that he found it difficult to affect this manner, especially when sitting before the young Elf he had seen suffer in his visions.
Once more, the Noldo was astonished, for Legolas prodded his thigh himself, freeing the bandaging ere Elrohir could, to say, "I do not think it is infected. It does not hurt more than before."
"It does not appear infected, either," the Noldo told the Wood-Elf, replacing the blood soaked bandage with clean. He breathed easier now that the archer did not evade his touch. He will be better, Elrohir hoped, if he does not shut us out.
A mantle of sunlight suddenly fell into the clearing from the rising sun in the east, blanketing them in its warmth and comfort. We waste the morning, Elrohir decided, though he did not wish to wake his brothers from their healing slumber.
Voicing his thoughts aloud, the young Noldo told the Prince and Jalian, "I should wake Aragorn and Elladan. We will need to leave soon."
"What about me?" Squirming on the ground, the mercenary fiddled with a blade he had plucked from clumps of summer grass around him.
Not understanding the strange statement, Elrohir asked Jalian, "What of you?"
Tearing the blade of grass into pieces, the mercenary shifted uncomfortably, chewing on his lips in demurral. What is the matter with him?
"You are free to leave if you wish," the Prince decreed, astounding Elrohir a third time this morning. "You have repaid any debt you owed for your actions, Master Human."
Free?
"Free?" the mercenary echoed, amusing the Noldo as his own disbelieving thoughts were repeated.
The Prince smiled slightly at Jalian and lifted his tunic to expose his chest for Elrohir to care for, saying, "Although I would rather you travel with us, both for your protection in leaving the forest, and for our need for another uninjured person to accompany us to Mirkwood."
"Sure, mate… I mean, your Majesty," the human bumbled, bowing his head slightly in happy confusion and befuddled respect. "I would, but..."
Jalian's agitation had increased tenfold at the mention of Mirkwood, and the implication behind this reticence Legolas understood, for he assured the mercenary, "You are free to go now, or at any time before we reach Eryn Galen's palace, but King Thranduil will accept my declaration that you have redeemed yourself, Jalian. You have my word."
Elrohir did not doubt the Prince's promise in the least: twice already, he had kept it even amidst unbeatable odds, as when he promised to kill Ament and did so, or when he made the oath to Elrohir to return to the clearing to aid him, which he had kept despite his ailing health and grief.
To Elrohir the Silvan instructed, "If I do not survive until we reach Eryn Galen, you will tell my father this? He will trust your word."
The request, despite its morbid undertone, was practical, nonetheless, and so Elrohir agreed. "I will."
The man's disfigured face brightened with the alleviation of his fears, for he believed the Prince's oath readily, also; however, Jalian sobered with a thoughtful frown and crawled to his knees, grabbing something from the pile of luggage they would pack onto the horses. "I'd like to bury Meika before we go, if you don't mind," the mercenary explained quietly as he stood: it was a small spade that he held and the mercenary tapped its handle against his thigh. "The rest of them can rot in the woods, for all I care now. But Meika deserves better'n that."
"I agree." Legolas pushed his hair from his eyes, tucking the dirtied locks back into the cloth strap with which he had tied it back the day before. "I will help you."
He did not want to deny the mercenary the opportunity to grieve for his friend, nor tell him that he could not bury the man as he desired, but Elrohir hesitated. We do not have time. I would leave as quickly as possible.
"I will help you also, Jalian." Elrohir craned his neck around Legolas to see the Ranger rising into sitting from his makeshift bed. They had woken Aragorn. With a frown and a softly muttered curse, Estel had drawn himself into sitting cross-legged.
The human's hair stood up in odd angles at the back of his head and the Noldo longed to go tousle that wayward clump of curls. Even after these years of seeing him in battle, Estel is still a child to me.
"We cannot all go. Elladan is still sleeping and someone must stay with Tirn."
His collarbone ached relentlessly, and he was certain that Elrohir had adjusted the much-beleaguered set of the broken bone during the course of the night, just as he had threatened to do. Elrohir won't leave this break alone. If he resets it again, it will never heal. Ignoring the nagging thought that if he would stop disrupting the break, then his twin wouldn't need to set it continually, Elladan tried also to ignore the lively camp. He did not want to awaken, though the bright sunlight bid him to rise and the incessant chatter of his companions kept him from returning to his slumber. Elladan opened his eyes, surprised to find that they had been shut completely, to see that the Ranger beside him was awake, as was the Silvan, for he could see both of them sitting side by side only an arm's reach away, facing Elrohir and Jalian. When it occurred to Elladan that his brother was quarreling without him, a pastime that Elladan enjoyed, the elder Noldo wished to sleep no longer, and he sat up hurriedly, eager to find out of what their argument concerned. Of course, his abrupt action jostled the broken bone he had only just been complaining about, and Elladan moaned in pain.
All eyes turned to the Noldo: Estel badgered his eldest brother, telling Elladan, "Muindor! Use more caution, please!"
"Yes, Elladan. I've no wish to set that break again," Elrohir added from across the clearing.
Neither do I wish you to set it again, he thought to himself, adjusting his seat on the ground so that he was no longer on the fringes of the circle of Elves and men, but sitting beside the Ranger. Aloud, though, the Noldo asked, "About what are you arguing?"
"Nothing, now that you are awake, Elladan," the Prince told him with a smile. It seemed to the Noldo that the entire camp was in a good mood this morning, and for the first time in many days, the elder twin discovered that he, too, felt relatively well, despite his injuries. "Elrohir did not wish to wake you, but nor would he leave Strider and I alone while fetching Meika."
"He has woken me, regardless, with his incessant bitching," the Noldo jibed his twin cheerily, looking to Elrohir to gauge if his brother had obtained any rest at all during the night. He has found no repose, Elladan judged, seeing that his twin, while as smiling and jovial as the others, appeared no less strained. The meaning of Legolas' words hit him, however, and realizing he had missed the information before, the older twin asked shortly, "Meika?"
"We wish to bury him before we leave," Elrohir explained.
Jalian, who had become fidgety, added, "It won't take long, I promise. I'll be quick."
He acts as though I would argue against allowing him to say goodbye to his friend. Elladan realized, And he has no reason to think otherwise, as I have made it clear I do not trust him, nor like him. What convinced the Noldo to acquiesce to Jalian's desire was that Meika had tried to help Estel and Legolas, however, and not Jalian's sorrowful discomfort, and so he agreed, "I will help you."
"With all of us digging, it shouldn't take long at all," Elrohir beamed at his twin, clearly glad to see his brother treating the mercenary with more respect than the day before. "It would be best that we retrieve Meika and bury him here, so that we are not separated for long." Elrohir grabbed a blanket from their pile and followed Jalian from the campsite.
Elladan prepared himself to tend the Ranger and Prince's wounds, but could tell by the clean bandaging and smell of herbs in the air, only slightly overpowered by the more pungent smell of death and blood, that Elrohir had seen to their companions' needs already. To pass the time, the twin busied himself with packing the last of their possessions, enjoying the comfortable silence between the Wood-Elf and Adan as they rolled their blankets for travel. Jalian and the younger Noldo returned in a few minutes, carrying the corpse of the slain mercenary. Elladan had not seen Meika before, but the human did not appear the type to be involved with Ament and his cruel plans. Luckily, no passing scavengers had found the human's body, and so after washing clean Meika's face, Jalian and Elrohir had the man's corpse prepared.
They took turns with one of the spades: Elladan could use only one arm and the Ranger's aid in digging was short-lived, because with too much movement the human would become pale and weak, though he would not admit it. The Silvan could barely stand, much less perform the demanding physical labor required in digging. Thus, though the others tried, it was Jalian and Elrohir who ended up carving out the space in the dense ground between the trunks of the trees in the far end of the clearing, opposite the trees to which led the underground lair, where they would entomb the mercenary's body.
I hope this is the only grave we dig on this journey, the Noldo thought, leaning against the tree behind him as Elrohir and Jalian placed the final rocks they had collected over the fresh dirt of the only piece of land Meika would ever own.
"Would you care to say something?"
The mercenary flushed in discomfort at the Ranger's question. "Meika's not much for words." Correcting himself, the human said, "He wasn't one for words. I'm not good with them either." Brushing his hands of the loose soil clinging to them, Jalian blurted, "Meika was a good man." Standing from where he knelt beside his friend's grave, Jalian told his audience with a sad smile, "Leastways when he wasn't listening to my bad advice."
Aragorn removed the baggage from the sentry's horse, knowing that the Silvan would ride better without it, but replaced upon the mount's back a layer of blankets they had collected from the mercenaries, knowing that the Prince would need the cushioning. The Ranger could envision that the blankets would keep the Silvan from being injured further by the jouncing of the horse during their journey.
The Wood-Elf coughed lightly as he approached the Ranger, and then looked at his hand. His lungs no longer bleed, the Ranger sighed, noting, as did the Silvan, that little blood appeared on the archer's palm. Unless his lungs can no longer be cleared by his coughing.
As the Ranger aided the Wood-Elf onto Tirn's horse, the human regretted his not trying harder to convince the Silvan into riding with him, instead of riding alone. I hope he can remain on his horse. He looks as if he will fade at any moment. Legolas adjusted his weapons on his back, the straps holding his quiver barely belted to keep them from chafing his bruised ribs. It is just as well, Estel told himself, handing Legolas one of the few flasks of water they had left, one that Elrohir had procured from his and Elladan's supplies the night before, ere the Ranger walked to his own mount. I would have been more a burden to him than he would to me. His punctured and aching torso could not have withstood the archer sitting before him, nor could Legolas have supported the Ranger with his cracked ribs. After burying Meika, they had argued for nearly half the remainder of the morning over riding arrangements. That the Prince wanted his sentry to ride with him did not help matters, and only by Elrohir's convincing the Silvan that Tirn would ride with him, where the sentry would best be cared for, was the matter resolved. Neither Legolas nor Aragorn wished to ride with Elladan, for his broken collarbone prevented this. In the end, a frazzled Elrohir had ordered them to ride alone, if only to get them moving before they lost most of the day arguing.
Climbing onto his horse's back proved a much harder task than the Ranger was prepared for: the arm he usually used to pull himself onto his horse was injured. The muscles in his forearm were torn by Doran's arrow, and the human only made it onto his mount when Jalian, passing by to carry another load of baggage to Meika's laden horse, gave Aragorn a boost into his saddle. We are a motley lot, to be sure, he reflected, settling in for the ride, and watching the complicated process of the twins' attempting to transfer Tirn into Elrohir's waiting arms. Elrohir is the only one uninjured, and thus the only one who could fight effectively if need be. I hope we do not run into trouble. He could not defend us holding Tirn.
The scarred Adan was the last to mount, holding the lead in one hand that tethered his fellow mercenaries' horses, on which they had arranged the necessities scavenged from the others' belonging that would be needed during their journey. With Jalian trailing them, and Elladan leading them, Aragorn followed Legolas' borrowed horse, which followed Elrohir and his sentry, out of the clearing and away from the dead mercenaries and the reek of death. He could not have been more relieved than he was at that moment – at least, he could imagine feeling no more relieved until they arrived in Eryn Galen. He did not expect a grand welcome from the King for him or his brothers: once Thranduil knew of his part in his son's tribulation the King would likely bar the Ranger from his lands, if not throw him in the dungeon or slay him on the spot. For now, Estel would welcome even this, if it meant his brothers and the two Wood-Elves would be safe.
With little to look at but the warped trees surrounding them, the Ranger amused himself with his thoughts, letting his mind wander, his mood lightening from the pensive contemplation of what they would face in Mirkwood to the odd circumstances of his brothers coming to collect him and the Prince happening upon Jalian and Meika in the forest.
Remembering their conversation from the night before, he pondered, Elrohir has had visions. I wonder what Ada will think of this when we return to Imladris. Knowing that Elrohir and Elladan had searched for he and the Prince based solely on these revelations made the Ranger all the more happy that his adopted Elven brother had listened to them. It is all chance, he thought, amazed at the culmination of what had occurred, and still in awe that Ament, Ramlin, Doran, and Meika were dead. If this experience has taught me nothing else, it has certainly taught me that danger, or safety, can be found where one least expects it. He smiled down at his hands tightly gripping the reins, thinking, I am beginning to sound like Ada. I wonder what he would think of that.
The very thought of Lord Elrond and what the Elven Lord may think of their journey, and of his actions during them, caused the Ranger to suddenly muse, Perhaps we should spend some time in Eryn Galen. Valar knows we could use the delay for healing, and for me to think of a way to explain this to Ada, he decided, feeling the burn on his stomach elongating with each shifting step of his mount. The faithful beast did not once lose its footing but his horse was not accustomed to traveling amongst the twisted and knotted tree roots that littered the ground and obscured the forest floor, for neither horse nor Ranger had ever entered a forest as dense and dark as the southern part of Mirkwood.
Nearly three hours into their riding, and when he could take the silence of their somber traveling no longer, Estel caught the attention of the Wood-Elf beside him, calling, "Legolas." Much more slowly than it should have taken, the archer turned to him, his intense concentration on the forest around them lighting upon the Ranger. "Tell me how you have met my brothers," Aragorn prompted, which earned him a slight smile from the distracted Prince.
It was Elladan who answered, though, and he slowed his horse from ahead of them to insert, "It is hardly worth mentioning." One lofty, ebony eyebrow rose on the Noldo's forehead, its upper curve hidden under the bandaging wrapped around Elladan's healing head wound. "We met near the Misty Mountains. The Prince and his fellow warriors were in need of aid, and we supplied it."
"Why were you on the Misty Mountains?" the Ranger asked of both the Prince and his brother.
Again, it was Elladan who answered, "Not on the Misty Mountains, but close to them. We had just finished escorting Arwen back to Lorien and were returning to Imladris, ready to pass over the mountains, though we had camped at the foothills." Aragorn's attention perked from his casual surveying of the surrounding forest at the mention of Arwen. The Noldo shifted in his seat with a facetious grimace in the Silvan's general direction, complaining with teasing distaste, "Legolas and his warriors, however, were chasing Orc through the forest, and disrupted our campsite with their skirmish across the Anduin."
All humor gone, the Silvan bowed his head and told Elladan with sincerity, "My apologies, my friend. I did not mean to disrupt the beauty sleep of two Noldor who so obviously need it."
For a moment, the Ranger believed he had misheard the Prince, whose odd demeanor had not matched his solemn words, but when Elrohir's laughter from ahead was joined by Elladan's, Aragorn decided he must have heard Legolas correctly; this was confirmed when the Prince raised his head, the wide smile on his beaten face lighting his haggard features.
"That is unfair," Elladan retorted, shaking his finger at the Wood-Elf in accusation. Turning to his human brother, the elder Noldo explained conspiratorially, "By joining the fray, we saved Legolas and his fellow warriors from certain loss – and that is how we met."
Legolas laughed at Elladan's explanation, making the Ranger very glad to have brought up the subject, if it would elicit such a happy response from the grieving Silvan. "That is not how we met," the Prince said, his final snickers dying away though the mirthful sparkle in his blue eyes remained. "And you hardly saved me from death, Elladan."
"Don't tell Estel the story! There is no need to give him any ideas, Legolas. He is uncontrolled enough as it is," Elrohir called from the front of their line of traveling horses.
"But it was your idea, Elrohir. If he is irresponsible, he has learned it from you."
Elladan nodded his head in agreement to Legolas' claim. "Speaking of irresponsibility: Estel's last idea left all of Imladris in a terrible state," the elder twin eluded slyly, winking mischievously at the Ranger, which only caused the human to worry.
I had hoped they had forgotten my last prank.
"You change the subject," the Ranger charged, uncomfortable at the switch in conversation. Retribution would come for the prank he had pulled, he knew, and so he tried to change the topic back. "I asked Legolas a question, not you, dear brother."
The Silvan offered, "I will tell you of how I first met your brothers if you tell me what mischief you've caused that had all of Imladris in such an uproar." When the Ranger nodded his reluctant agreement, Legolas told Aragorn gleefully, setting his horse's pace to match the human's so they could converse without obstruction, "Elladan and Elrohir tried to kill me."