Crippled Prize
by Mizalaye
And More Notes: Hello again…yeah, it's yet another apology. A bad case of writer's block combined with a worse case of "busy," and so this chapter took 2 months. My deepest apologies to those who are reading this story and have been waiting patiently for me to update. We're nearly done, though! Thank you so much to those who haven't given me up for dead yet. As always, the Elvish is a bit rough – feel free to correct it if you know better!
This chapter is for those of my reviewers who asked for more Legolas! Hope you enjoy. =o)
Mellonín = my friend; Ionín = my son
Chapter Eleven: The Grief That Can't Be Spoken
The stillness of the air was broken only by soft sobbing.
For the first time in his long life, Legolas regretted his elven hearing. Mortal ears would not pick up every hiccup and sob coming from the girl who rode before him. Legolas had seen tears many times before, and he knew he would see them many times again, but this time, the tears seemed to burn their way into his heart. He did not blame Dómiel for crying – in another place, tears might have touched his eyes, as well. But not now. Now he had to be strong for her.
Are you truly being strong for her? he asked himself. Or is it simply that elven pride Gimli needles you about so constantly?
Unwilling to face that particular question, Legolas turned his attention to the horse behind him. He had managed to sling Aragorn across the saddle and tie him into place with the ropes that had held Dómiel. He knew Aragorn would never have submitted to such an indignity were he conscious, but the ropes held him onto the horse and allowed Legolas to escort him home.
A slight noise caught the elf's attention, and for a moment he stiffened, scanning the area. When he was satisfied that it was merely a bird flying over, he relaxed slightly, but the tension never left his shoulders. He prayed he would not hear their pursuers, for if he did, they would be too close to keep at the slow trot he held the horses to. If their pursuers neared, Legolas knew he would be forced to abandon Aragorn and his horse and ride hard for Minas Tirith.
And Legolas wasn't sure he would be able to do that.
Vow or no vow, Aragorn was one of his dearest friends. Ever since they met, when the human was a very young Ranger, they had ridden together, fought together, and forged a bond Legolas had once though impossible between an elf and a mortal man.
Hold on, mellonín, Legolas ordered his friend silently. Just hold on.
Dómiel's sobbing stilled, and Legolas realized she had fallen asleep. Carefully, so as not to wake her, the elf shifted positions slightly to better support her.
"Îdho, sellmuin," he whispered. "A oltha o einmaer lûi"
"Sleep, dear child, and dream of better days."
As Legolas continued to ride, his thoughts turned forward to Gondor. What will Arwen say when I bring her husband back in such a state? Will she forgive me, I wonder, for not insisting on taking the more dangerous place? Deep in his heart, Legolas knew the answer. Yes, Arwen would forgive him. As tender-hearted as she was, the Evenstar would never blame an old friend for the death of her husband. Should Aragorn not recover, however, Arwen's forgiveness shall matter naught. Their love prodded her to forsake her immortality. Without that which holds her here, I fear she will never recover. He knew full well Arwen would not outlive her husband by more than a few years, if even that.
Then, the elf's thoughts turned back to that place he had been keeping them from the past several hours. Was there another way? Aragorn was so certain that him entering that lair of evil was the only way to set his daughter free…but was he mistaken? Couldn't I have taken that role as easily as he did? Surely the fact that I am an elf was no more dangerous than his identity as the King of Gondor. I should have been the one to enter that cave! I have no family remaining to mourn my death…no wife, no children who would mourn my passing.
A new thought struck Legolas with such horror that he nearly stopped breathing. When did the plan go wrong? When were we discovered? When I went down! Aragorn had established a credible identity…he could have easily done it all himself. Only when I joined him did the plan collapse. Only when I went down after him were we discovered.
His death will be my fault.
Had Legolas been in a calmer frame of mind, his natural logic would have informed him that he could not have changed the situation – no other plan would have accomplished their goal. However, a grief-stricken elf does not tend to think rationally, and Legolas was no exception.
His blood is upon my head. I shall bear the guilt of his death before his family the rest of my life.
In his mind, Legolas could see the scene – Aragorn lying in state, skin pale as the white linen that shrouded his form; Arwen weeping softly; Eldarion and Gilraen standing in shock; Dómiel huddled in her chair; and Legolas standing before them all.
"I acknowledge that it was my faults that caused Aragorn's death. Had I been of more courage, I could have prevented this death. I bear his blood on my head."
In the scene within his imagination, Legolas watched as first Eldarion, then Gilraen and Dómiel, and finally Arwen, turned their backs on him, excluding him from their circle. Then, he saw more figures – Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, his father and mother, his brothers, Gimli…all turned their backs, leaving him completely alone.
With a start, Legolas wrenched his mind back to reality and scanned the horizon. All was clear. The elf took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his mind and purge the panic from his body. You let yourself drift off, he scolded himself mentally. For all you knew, those men were right behind you. What if they got their hands back on Dómiel because you were dreaming? Legolas shuddered and turned his complete attention to watching and listening. He could not worry now about what might or might not take place when he arrived. He had a vow to keep and a child to protect.
And I shall protect you, Dómiel, Legolas swore again silently. I was unable to protect your father, but I shall protect you, though it cost my very life. Indeed, I would not mind if it did.
In front of him, the young princess slept on.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
"Mother?"
Arwen turned quickly at the familiar voice. "What is it? Have they returned?"
Eldarion slowly shook his head. "No, mother. Not yet."
Arwen turned her gaze back over the stone railing she stood behind, looking out across Minas Tirith toward the woods. "They will come. They must." Her voice was a mere ragged whisper.
Eldarion stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Though only seventeen, Aragorn's son equaled him in height and was taller than his mother. "Have you eaten?"
The queen's response was a slight shake of her head. "I have no appetite."
"Mother, you must eat, or when Father returns, he'll scold me for not taking care of you."
Arwen sighed, turning to face her son. "I do not wish to leave this place, Eldarion. Here…here I have hope. Walking the corridors of the palace alone…" She trailed off and turned her head so that her son might not see the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
"I'll ask one of the servants to send something up for you," Eldarion said, "if you promise me you'll eat it."
Despite her own sorrow, Arwen had to smile slightly. "You sound just like your father. He also worries too much."
Noting that she had neatly avoided promising anything, Eldarion said, "Perhaps I shall join you up here for that meal." He meant it to sound casual, but he could not fool an elf of so many years.
"You intend to ensure that I actually eat," she replied calmly.
"Indeed I do." He knew better than to lie to his mother.
"Well, I couldn't ask for better company."
A moment of silence passed as Eldarion worked up the courage to voice the question that had been rolling through his mind ever since he arrived home to find both his father and sister missing. "Mother, what will happen if Father doesn't make it home?"
"He will come back," Arwen said firmly. Then, in a whisper, "He must. It cannot be over so soon."
Eldarion hated to press her, but he needed to know the answer. "But what if he doesn't?"
Arwen placed a reassuring hand against her son's face. "Then the country shall mourn and you, my son, shall be crowned King of Gondor, young as you are."
"I'm not ready for that," Eldarion whispered.
"You will find your strength when you need it most," Arwen said softly. Suddenly, a spurt of Arwen's old spirit shone through, grief-weary though she was. "I think I could stomach a bit of food, after all. Will you accompany me, Ionín?"
Knowing full well that his mother was only being cheerful in order to calm him, Eldarion agreed, and the two headed into the palace.
And so, neither queen nor prince saw the two horses break through the trees and slowly approach the city gates.
Notes: I know, I'm still leaving you in suspense…but I promise things will get tied up in the next chapter…which shouldn't take me nearly as long! If you like this…or can at least tolerate it…or, hey, even if you hate it…please make my day and review! And, to the non-reviewing lurkers (because I know you're out there), thank you for reading! If you feel so inspired, I would greatly appreciate a review. However, if you do not feel so inspired, I hope you're enjoying the story anyways! =o)
Yay! Lots of reviewers! =o)
Daylight – I'm glad you think so. Thanks for the review, however short it was!
mbali – Thank you for reviewing. I just upload everything saved as a "web page" through Word (aka HTML) and it works. However, it's not letting me center anything anymore…so I guess I'm not the best person to ask.
Figure – Thank you so much for the multiple reviews! I am very glad that you are enjoying this story as much as the other one. And thanks for the plug for Wielders. I'm sorry the poison/antidote thing wasn't very clear…but I hope it makes sense now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the others! =o)
cat – I'm afraid it wasn't soon…but I did update! I'm afraid this stopping place isn't too much better, though…
Vana Burke – Thank you for the review. I'm sorry that wasn't very clear. Yes, when Dómiel's nurse was shot (back in chapter 1), Dómiel was dropped over the edge of the wall of Minas Tirith. When she hit the ground, it basically shattered the bones in both legs. They wouldn't have had the medical knowledge to correct the problem, so her legs healed crooked, crippling her for life. I hope that makes more sense now. =o)
Wolfete – I understand…I'm not particularly fond of cliffhangers in other people's stories, either. But they're just so fun to write! Anyways, thank you for the review, and I'm sorry I ended with yet another cliffie!
sabercrazy – I'm glad you don't expect an actual answer to that question…because I can't give you one. I'm afraid you're just going to have to keep reading to find out. But thank you for the review!
littlefish – Thank you for the review! Uhm…I hope you didn't go too crazy with how long it took me to update. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too! (Even though I still left it hanging…)
Ice Cube – I'm afraid I can't answer that question…you're just going to have to keep reading to find out if Aragorn survives! Thanks for the review!
justme – Thank you very much for the review. Thank you especially for being specific – it really helps me to know what I'm doing right. And yes, I know, it's another cliffie… sorry! =o)
AragothwinElfBlade – Thank you for the review. I'm glad you actually like the cliffhanger…I'm afraid most people don't. I hope you enjoyed this chapter (with cliffie).
SapphireRose – And I'm doing it again. Ah, well…=o) Thank you for the review, and a hundred more thank-yous for beta-ing this chapter! I really do appreciate it! =o)