Disclaimer: See the Author's Notes! This is an AU! A/L shounen ai! Takes place about three days after the last chapter! Elvish speech is in ''.
Reasons To Fight, Reasons To Wed
Part 14. Healing
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Gondor
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Meron paced angrily, in the room he had been 'given' by Boromir. What to do now that Legolas was missing? Not even the Istari friend of the Elven Prince's knew where he had teleported to!
If only that fool had not told the Elf to teleport in the first place, Meron raged silently. Anyone with half a mind could have seen that Legolas was not in any shape to attempt that spell. Then again, Mithrandir had been too far back to get a good look at the fallen Elf…
"I will find you… have you… You will not escape," Meron muttered, rage in his voice.
Unbeknownst to him, or maybe he was just ignoring it, but eyes watched him from the shadows, listening to Meron's every word.
Meron sank onto the bed, grumbling, "I have not waited this long for it to be ruined now… It would have been better had Aragorn died that day, along with his parents, instead of being rescued by Legolas when Gondor was attacked all that long, long time ago…" His dark grey eyes narrowed. "The Elf could not have teleported out of Middle Earth; he was nearly unconscious when he vanished. Drat his magic, keeping me from twisting it aside."
The evil caster muttered to himself some more, enough so that the figure watching him grew even more suspicious than he already was. When Meron finally let himself fall asleep, after setting up a warding spell, in case of danger, the figure turned and stalked away silently.
Faramir did not like this stranger at all. Meron was deceitful and spoke falsely. The younger brother of Boromir looked very similar to him, as he stalked away to find Boromir.
This Meron had his own plans, and Faramir was not going to let Boromir be used like this. He'd never met this Aragorn, and was uncertain if he truly was the son of Arathorn, but Faramir intended to speak with him. Maybe he could answer a few questions; like whether or not he truly was forcing an Elf to marry him, as Meron had told both him and Boromir.
From the way Meron had been speaking, it was as if he held a grudge against Aragorn, back even to when Gondor had been attacked by the foul creatures that had slaughtered both King and Queen.
Faramir disliked and distrusted Meron. He had not missed the hatred when Aragorn's name had been spoken; or the lust when Meron referred to Legolas.
The younger brother of the Steward of Gondor finally found Boromir in his throne room, brooding over something.
Boromir saw Faramir and beckoned him closer. "What brings you here, my brother?" he questioned.
"I do not like this, Boromir. We know nothing of Meron or where he comes from, yet you are willing to break into an Elven kingdom on his word," Faramir stated firmly. "How do you know he can be trusted?"
"What reason has he given us not to trust him?" Boromir countered. "Meron can be trusted; I know it."
Faramir sighed and tried again. "What if he's lying, to use you to get what he wants?"
Boromir frowned and snapped, "I would know. I'm surprised that you would want to leave an Elf in such a predicament, brother. Do you not trust my judgment?" A warning was in those words, but Faramir ignored it.
"It's not you I don't trust. It's him. Can you take the chance that I might be right? If I am right, as soon as Meron gets what he wants, he will have no need for you any longer," Faramir pointed out. "Have I ever questioned you before this? Listen to me, please, Boromir. My heart is telling me that he is up to no good."
Boromir thought for a few moments. Faramir had always been one of his most loyal and perceptive advisors; that he was suspicious of Meron was like a warning bell. He then found a silent voice whispering in his mind that Faramir was jealous of him; that that was why his brother questioned him so. Faramir was trying to cast doubt on his ability to judge people, Boromir thought resentfully. Then he shook his head, and reminded himself that Faramir had never showed any interest in being the Steward of Gondor.
"What would you have me do, Faramir?" Boromir asked finally.
Faramir breathed a sigh of relief. "Let me go speak to this Aragorn and see what his story is. There are two sides to every story, and we have only heard one of them."
Boromir took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could think of no reason not to let Faramir do as he wished so he nodded. "Then go, Faramir. Keep it a secret from everyone else, until you return and tell me your impression of the son of Arathorn." Boromir spoke as if it had been entirely his idea.
Faramir nodded. "At once," he said, before he took his leave. He had already prepared a few things, for he would have gone to Rivendell with or without Boromir's permission.
Less than ten minutes later, a lone figure galloped off on a horse, heading directly for Rivendell.
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Mines of Moria
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Legolas' eyelashes fluttered, as he finally woke up. He felt like he had been sleeping for days, but he felt much better now. He was no longer as hot as he had been, though he suddenly became nauseous, and forced himself not to retch.
The lone Elf looked around, before he slowly sat up, fighting back his queasiness. He was a prince; he did not retch in front of others, especially Dwarves. Though there was a slightly green tinge to his face, as Legolas forced himself to stand. He was surprised at how shaky he felt, as he stumbled around. He had to get out of here; he had to return to Aragorn, Legolas thought grimly. His poor husband was probably going frantic over him being missing like this, especially in his condition.
Gimli was jolted out of his sleep by the sounds of something creaking. He had been sitting near where the Elf was sleeping, but not too close that anyone would comment on it. He opened his eyes and saw that the Elf was awake and standing, trying to find his way out. The Dwarf muttered, grabbed his axe, and briskly walked over to the Elf, easily overtaking him.
"Lay back down, Elf. The Healer says you need bed rest for five days," Gimli said, steel in his voice.
Legolas frowned as the Dwarf blocked the path. "I have to go home," he insisted. "Aragorn is waiting for me." Though Legolas had to admit that he was feeling tired again. The simple act of walking around for a few moments had taken the strength that he had regained in sleep.
Gimli shook his head and brandished his axe. Of course, he wouldn't hit the pregnant Elf, but the Elf didn't need to know that little fact. "Nope. Not until my Healer says you can leave."
"You do not have the right to keep me here," Legolas argued, feeling even more nauseated now. He bit it back again, one hand automatically resting on his stomach. This nausea was not very appealing to Legolas, who had never retched in his life until now.
Gimli shook his head. "Do you even have anyone to take you home, Elf?" He caught the motion the Elf made and sighed. "C'mon, go lay down before I drag you over there myself. You've been asleep for three days, and if you're not careful, you could relapse."
Legolas was unable to stifle a yawn. "I have to go home to Aragorn," he muttered, before he yawned again. He then placed his hand over his mouth, feeling humiliated.
"You'll go home to… this Aragorn when you are well," Gimli answered. "Go rest, Elf. You're not going anywhere until then." He then noticed the pale face, as the Elf shook slightly.
Legolas suddenly turned and sank to his knees, unable to keep from retching any longer. His arms supported him, as Legolas heaved for a few moments. He groaned inwardly, for this was so humiliating for him, especially in front of the Dwarf. He was surprised when a hand touched his shoulder gently.
"C'mon, Elf. Sitting here on the cold floor will do no good to you or your unborn. Or whoever this Aragorn you keep mentioning is." Gimli did not taunt the Elf, who looked faintly surprised.
Legolas sighed and nodded. He stood and returned to the bed silently, grateful that no mention had been of his retching. Though how had the Dwarf known he was… He shot the Dwarf a questioning look. "What is your name?" he asked, sitting on the bed.
Gimli silently gestured for the Elf to lay down, before he answered. "Gimli, son of Gloin. I'm currently in charge of the Mines of Moria, until we finish evacuating. Only about five of my kind are here now. Most left yesterday, to go to the new Mine. What's your name, Elf?"
"Legolas of Mi- Rivendell," Legolas said. He did not want to give away his royal identity to a stranger, just in case he was to be used as a ransom.
"Legolas Mi-Rivendell, hmm?" Gimli questioned. He'd caught the slip, and wondered where the Elf actually came from.
Legolas scowled and said, "Rivendell. I come from Rivendell." He lay back onto the bed, feeling hunger pangs.
Gimli asked curiously, "How did an Elf from Rivendell wind up in the deepest caverns here?"
Legolas remained silent; he knew that if he admitted to possessing magic, he might be pressed into service. While his magic remained unstable, Legolas knew that he should not use it. Though he was now realizing that he depended on his magic entirely too much; so much that he had taken it for granted. "Entirely by accident, I assure you," Legolas finally answered. "I just want to go back to Aragorn."
"You will, when you do not look like one gust of wind will blow you over. As for that, do you have anyone to return home with? For that matter, do you even know your way through Moria?" Gimli saw the pinched look on Legolas' face. "What's wrong now?"
"I'm hungry," Legolas admitted. "I am alone, and no, I do not know how to leave Moria. I did not intend to come here; I was trying to escape from those who pursued me."
Gimli shook his head and was surprised to find himself fetching something that Legolas could eat, pregnant or not. After cleaning his hands, Gimli dug out dried fruit and vegetables, placed them on a plate, and gave it to the Elf. "Why were you being chased?"
Legolas gratefully started eating hungrily, before he swallowed enough so that he could speak. "I do not know. I know that I do have one enemy; but I did not see him there. They were all strangers; Men that I had never met. For some reason, they wanted me." He chewed thoughtfully. "I hope Aragorn is all right, along with Mithrandir." Legolas didn't care right now that he was talking to a Dwarf, for it was better than agonizing over being separated from Aragorn.
Gimli asked questions about who Aragorn and Mithrandir were, part of him curious, and the other part wanting to keep Legolas occupied so he didn't try to leave again until the Elf was strong enough.
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Rivendell
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Aragorn was finally well; sort of. His fever was broken, but Elrond refused to let him out of bed yet.
'Legolas is alone, lost, and pregnant with my child!' Aragorn said fiercely, but not loud enough to be overheard by any of the servants. 'I should be with him. And how did I even get his fever?'
Elrond rubbed his temples. Elrohir and Elladan had tried to explain it to him, but Aragorn had been too sick to understand.
Glorfindel and Mithrandir had returned from the Shire after spreading the word about the Elven Prince's disappearance. They had brought four of their Hobbit friends back with them, to offer fresh ideas. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were due to arrive tomorrow, with whomever was chosen to escort them.
'Aragorn, cease this! You are not a child, to throw a fit because you cannot have things your way,' Elrond said sternly. 'You must be strong… and patient for Legolas' sake. As for getting his fever, it was through the bond you two share. Grievous, life-threatening illnesses and even death will be felt through your link.'
Aragorn knew that his father was right, but he could not keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. 'But he needs me, Father. And I need him. Why does this hurt so much? I don't understand it…'
Elrond smiled wisely, as he looked as his youngest son. 'Yes, the disappearance of someone you care about is agonizing and excruciating. But that's the price of love.'
To be continued