"Wake!" Celeborn slapped Aragorn's face. When that didn't work, he gripped the man's open tunic in both hands and shook the King. "Aragorn! You must wake!"
Cirdan gripped Anduril tightly as Celeborn dragged the unconscious Aragorn away from the edge of the ship and away from the creature. A trail of blood flowed down the side of Aragorn's head, where he'd impacted with the wall, as Celeborn frantically tried to wake the unconscious man.
Aragorn groaned and shook his head, the rain pelting his face and washing away the blood faster than the droplets could fall from his skin. The man groaned as consciousness slowly returned and he blinked slowly, struggling to focus. He coughed from the force of the blow, desperately pushing air back into his lungs.
Cirdan held Anduril at the ready, watching carefully for another attack, staring with utter horror as men were flung like dolls off the deck and into the raging sea.
The Shipwright's attention was drawn to Aragorn as he coughed, blood trickling from the corner of the King's mouth. Aragorn's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his arm came across his chest as if to still an unseen pain.
Celeborn grimaced and reached for the man's bared chest, healing hands seeking the source of his grandson's pain. Rain continued to pelt them as Aragorn drew several shaky breaths, still attempting to force air that had been roughly stolen, back into his lungs.
Aragorn coughed again, bringing up more blood and Celeborn winced. He rubbed the trickle of water away from his face with an annoyed grunt.
"Something has been punctured," Celeborn pulled Aragorn into his arms, the man's head lolling into the elf's chest as he continued to struggle for air.
"What – is it," Aragorn breathed, ever concerned with the safety of his people even before his own. He had to know what was behind this attack. What was killing his people. What had so caught him unawares that he now lay in a painful heap in Celeborn's arms.
"A foul thing thought long ago banished into the deep," Celeborn answered, his eyes glazing with hatred for this creature who sought to destroy them.
Intense crystal eyes turned to stare at the elf, struggling to comprehend through the haze of pain shooting through his chest. His breathing was returning to normal but little bursts of light continued to explode before his eyes from the pain.
"An arctic Titan." Celeborn answered, and nodded to Cirdan, who held Aragorn upright as Celeborn tore at his own robes. The former Lord of Lothlorien wrapped several long strips of material around Aragorn's waist in an attempt to stabilize whatever internal injuries the man might have sustained.
Aragorn muttered a not so quiet curse and the two elves exchanged a knowing and understanding look.
"I'm aware this hurts," Celeborn said as Aragorn grunted in agreement. "But it must be done. We don't have time to ascertain your injuries."
Aragorn nodded, the dizziness fading with each passing minute. His breathing became more stable and his strength returned, in the form of hideous hate for the creature that had done this. He could stand on his own - if the elves would only permit it.
"We need to get you off this ship," Celeborn wrapped his arms around the injured man. "Can you stand?"
"Yes," Aragorn grunted.
"I've lost sight of the other ship,' Cirdan noted, frowning as the sea tossed its worst at them.
"That's not good," Celeborn supported much of Aragorn's weight as the injured man steadied himself on his feet. "The titan has reached it?"
As if hearing its name, the beast tore another chunk out of the ship, causing water to begin to flood the upper deck.
"Arwen!" Aragorn cried as he watched the torrent of water rush right for the lower decks.
"Go!" Aragorn pushed Celeborn ahead of him and leaned heavily against the wall. The sudden movement, in his panic, had been a bad idea as he fought another wave of nausea. "Get to her, please!"
Gimli and Legolas rounded the corner and flanked the King. "He will be safe with us, go fetch the Queen!"
Before Cirdan turned to follow Celeborn, Aragorn ripped his blade out of the elf's hand. At the questioning look in the elf's eyes, Aragorn only answered, "Go!" The two elves rushed down the steps and into the rising water below decks.
Gimli clutched his axe as the boat lurched and surged beneath him. "No time to get sick," He muttered to himself, causing a look of concern on the faces of his friends.
"We'll have you on land soon, my friend," Aragorn breathed as he clutched at the ribs he knew were broken. He coughed once more and Legolas turned to his friend, searching with keen elven eyes. If the blood at his lips was any indication, Aragorn was more injured than he let on.
"We need to get you off this ship, Aragorn." Gimli gruffed and cast an annoyed look in the direction the Titan was last seen.
"And to safety," Legolas added. "You are injured and need assistance." He kept his bow at his side, arrow nocked and ready to fire at a moment's notice.
"I will be fine." Aragorn gritted, clutching his blade tightly to his chest.
Legolas favored his friend with a disapproving look but was distracted by a scream and the sight of a body flying over the rail and into the raging Sea. Legolas peered around the corner the tip of his arrow leading the way. "We must distract the creature to give the others enough time to get up here from below deck."
Legolas turned to Aragorn. "Stay here and wait for them while Gimli and I distract the Titan."
"No." Aragorn stared, aghast that Legolas would even suggest he stay behind. "I will assist you-"
"You need to protect your wife and that babe she carries," Legolas was nearly knocked off his feet by a tidal wave that crashed into and over the sides of the ship. The water knocked Gimli onto the deck and Aragorn into the wall. The King grunted in pain and clutched his side as Gimli quickly gained his feet, his boots slipping on the well-polished wood while Legolas muttered a fluid curse that would have made elves and men alike cringe in disgust.
Aragorn could find no words to argue as his friends left him leaning against the wall and made their way around the corner and toward the Titan. He could see Legolas drawing his bow and the ear-piercing howl that followed indicated the arrow had struck its mark.
Another lurch of the boat knocked Aragorn off his feet and he groaned loudly as he struck the deck. He coughed again and this time more blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away in disgust, determined to ignore his own injury for as long as those who served him were in danger.
A few moments later, Celeborn and Cirdan appeared with Arwen sandwiched protectively between them. Aragorn motioned for them to join him and Arwen's eyes widened when she noticed her husband's bedraggled form. The two elves pushed Arwen toward Aragorn and they moved away just in time to see a large scaly arm smash into the wall, caving in the hallway they had just come from and effectively trapping anyone still left below the deck.
Celeborn and Cirdan were thrown to the floor with the force of the blow, and Arwen with them, as debris from the ship scattered around their motionless bodies.