Crippled Prize
by Mizalaye
Note: "Naneth" is "mother" in Sindarin. I assumed that, since Arwen is Elven and her children are fluent in Sindarin, they would most likely use the Sindarin term.
Chapter Twelve: Precious Treasure
The horrifying sensation of falling penetrated Dómiel's pain-fogged brain, causing her to wake with an alarmed start.
"Hush, little one," a voice murmured from somewhere above her.
Rebelling, Dómiel's weary eyes refused to focus properly, turning the face above her into a blurred and terrifying specter. Only a quick reaction kept the scream that suddenly burned the back of her throat from escaping.
"Be calm, Dómiel." The voice spoke in Sindarin now, its tone gentle and soothing. "Don't be afraid – it is I."
With a good deal of blinking and rubbing her eyes, Dómiel managed to clear the mist from her vision. Suddenly, Legolas' concerned face snapped into focus. Once again, she went limp with relief. Then, she noticed that Legolas was carrying her, not supporting her on the back of the horse. "Where are we?"
"Minas Tirith," Legolas replied. "You are safe at home now."
Home? Dómiel looked about her, noticing the familiar walls of the capital. Before she could ask any further questions, such as how they had finally reached their goal, a horrified scream reached her ears. It took her only a moment to identify the voice – it was her mother's.
"Naneth?" she whispered. A bit of twisting in Legolas' arms, and she could see her mother. She wanted to feel her mother's embrace, to be held in her arms again. But when she saw what had caused Arwen to scream, she could not force any sound past her suddenly frozen lips.
Arwen had dropped to her knees beside a makeshift stretcher. A distraught-looking Faramir carried one end and her brother Eldarion bore the other.
And King Elessar lay immobile and white as the stretcher that bore him.
"He is not dead, m'lady." Faramir's steady voice just reached Dómiel's ears. "But we must get him to the Houses of Healing at once. I do not know how much longer he can last."
Arwen stood immediately to accompany them, but Dómiel's eyes remained fixed on her father's face. She had never seen a living man who more resembled a corpse.
Is he truly alive? Or did Faramir say that only to calm Naneth? Father…
With the image of her father's white face burned into her mind, Dómiel's eyes rolled back into her head, and unconsciousness claimed her once more.
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When Dómiel awoke, she was comfortably tucked into a soft bed in the center of a sparsely furnished room. A minute of observation revealed that, while she slept, she had been bathed, dressed in a warm nightgown, and her wounds had been treated. Another look around the room, which she now realized was located within the Houses of Healing, brought a person to her attention; a dark-haired girl, who looked to be about twelve, was curled up in a chair against one wall, dozing.
"Gilraen?" she whispered, afraid she would wake and find this all to be a dream.
Her younger sister's eyes flew open and she ran the few steps to the bed. "You're awake!"
"Am I truly home?" Dómiel asked.
Gilraen merely laughed. "Of course you are! Legolas carried you here himself! How do you feel?"
"Like I was trampled by a squadron of Uruk-hai," Dómiel replied with a gentle smile to soften the words, "but much better now that I am home." Suddenly, memories stirred within her. "Is Father…?"
Gilraen looked away. "All they will tell me is that he is terribly sick and that I mustn't disturb him. That is why I came to sit with you."
Before Dómiel could respond, the door cracked open, and Eldarion peeked inside. "You're awake!" he cried, throwing the door open the rest of the way and striding to her bedside.
Dómiel cut off the inevitable questions about how she felt. "How is Father?"
"I do not know," Eldarion admitted, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "Naneth is very upset, as are Lord Faramir and Legolas, but they refuse to allow me to see him." He seemed about to continue, but glanced at Gilraen and fell silent.
"Gilraen…" Dómiel began.
Her sister cut her off. "I'll go tell Naneth you woke." Though she sent a rather frustrated look over her shoulder, Gilraen did not stop to eavesdrop.
"You…saw him?" Dómiel asked once she was certain Gilraen was out of earshot.
Her brother nodded.
"When he first began to get sick, I was so scared," Dómiel admitted in a whisper. "I kept telling myself that once we arrived safely home, he would be well. But…then I saw him again after we reached the city and…"
"He seemed dead," Eldarion finished. "I know." Sitting on the edge of her bed, he drew his sister into a tight hug.
That was how Arwen found them when she entered the room a minute later. "Oh, Dómiel!"
"Naneth," she breathed as her mother took Eldarion's place and held her close.
"You are well…you are safe…oh, my precious daughter…"
Dómiel relaxed a little more, letting her mother's love wash over her.
But then, after several minutes, she couldn't hold back the question any longer. "Naneth, is Father going to die?"
"I pray not, dear."
Tears blurred Dómiel's vision. "It is my fault, isn't it? If only I had stayed home!" Forgetting all notions of royal maturity, she buried her head in her mother's dress and wept hot, guilty tears.
Arwen did not respond with words – she simply held her daughter and allowed her to cry.
"M'lady?" Legolas' weary and ragged voice came from the doorway. "The healers call for you to come at once."
Dómiel felt her mother's hand smooth her hair once more before she stood and left the room. Eldarion took her place beside the bed, but Dómiel refused to allow her brother to comfort her.
Eventually, she drifted off into a mercifully dreamless sleep.
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Flame…Shadow…Heat…
He stood on the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm, facing the Balrog. A glance over his shoulder showed a group standing on the far bank of the chasm, watching him and waiting for the outcome of the showdown. But it was not the Fellowship that watched him. It was his family…his friends….
The Balrog would kill them all…unless he killed it first.
But he was not Gandalf. How could he face this demon alone?
The Balrog stepped closer. Heat radiated from it, scorching his skin, parching his lips, searing his eyes. Vision blurred, hearing vanished…all his senses were overcome by the heat. Then flames leapt from the demon's hands and began to play over his skin, burning him as if he was wood. He cried out, tried to extinguish the flames, but they were part of him now. The tongues of fire slipped beneath his skin, until they lurked within him. They burrowed deeper, burrowing into his heart.
He knew the flames would consume him. He had no choice but to fall prey to the fire. Gasping in pain, overcome by the heat, he dropped to his knees.
Then, inexplicably, a cool breeze blew across his face. The flames did not die, but they retreated for a moment, as the healing breeze seemed to smooth his hair. And on the breeze came a voice…a voice he recognized.
It was enough. He surged to his feet, his will re-exerting itself. He would not fail now! A bow appeared in his hand, and he drew an arrow from his quiver, aiming it squarely at the Balrog's eyes. The arrow sang through the air. The Balrog fell from the bridge, tumbling into the abyss below.
But the flames now dwelt in his very spirit. And they refused to release him.
Just as he was about to collapse once more, the breeze returned. This time, the voice was stronger. It was a woman's voice, low and musical. The voice spoke only one word, over and over. Finally, he realized what that word was. His name…
"Aragorn…Aragorn…"
His eyes fluttered open, and he looked into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. "I did it." His voice was no more than a cracked whisper, but Arwen heard him.
Her finger brushed his lips. "You did. But rest now, my love."
Aragorn wanted to stay, to speak with her, to tell her how much he loved her, but his body betrayed him, and he slid into the darkness again.
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Arwen called her husband's name again, but he did not respond. Panic flooding her, she turned to the healer.
The old man merely smiled. "The King is sleeping naturally now, Your Majesty. The worst is over."
Tears of joy and relief welled up in Arwen's eyes, and she bent her head over Aragorn's to hide them.
After a moment, a gentle hand fell onto her shoulder. "My lady, you should get some rest. I shall watch over Aragorn." The voice was Legolas'.
"I believe you need the rest more than I, my friend," Arwen replied, "for unless my eyes have deceived me, you have stumbled no less than a half-dozen times in the last hour alone."
Legolas looked away, obviously rather embarrassed that the Queen had noticed his exhaustion.
"I should, however, inform the children," Arwen said, rising. After brushing her lips across her husband's forehead, she glided from the room.
Legolas turned his gaze to his friend lying on the bed. The elf's sharp eyes noted the subtle indications that Aragorn did, indeed, sleep naturally rather than lie unconscious under the poison's power. "Welcome home, Aragorn," he whispered to the still form.
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Epilogue
One Month Later
"I still do not understand," Faramir said.
Aragorn smiled ever so slightly. "There is little to understand. I myself am not certain how I survived. Either one of the herbs I used counteracted the poison enough to spare me, or my general resistance to illness triumphed…or perhaps a combination of the two."
"Or perhaps you were simply too stubborn to die," Legolas put in as he approached the two men.
Aragorn clasped his friend's forearm firmly. "You ride to Rohan?" he asked, knowing that Gimli was currently at work in that land.
"Yes, but I would bid your family farewell before I depart," Legolas replied.
"Dómiel is in the gardens with her brother, I believe," Aragorn said with a knowing smile. The two friends, man and elf, studied each other for a long moment before Legolas said a final farewell and strode away. Aragorn smiled as he watched his friend depart, remembering the conversation a few weeks ago in which Legolas had apologized for his part in Aragorn's poisoning. Of course all had been forgiven, and all was well between the two friends once more.
"It seems Dómiel has a new protector," Faramir commented, having observed that Legolas had not asked for the whereabouts of any of the other members of the royal family.
"That she does." For a moment, the floor seemed to shift under Aragorn's feet, and he quickly flung out his hand to brace himself against the wall. The dizzy spell passed after only seconds, however, and he quickly regained his balance.
"I am well, Faramir," he said firmly, noting the concern in his Steward's eyes.
"Forgive me, my lord. It has only been two weeks since you left your bed…" Faramir responded.
"Between you and my beloved Queen, I should never need to worry about my health," Aragorn said wryly. Truth be told, of course, he did not truly mind when Arwen fussed over him. Faramir, on the other hand…
The Steward smothered a smile. "If you have no other matters to discuss with me, my lord, I should begin home, or I shall have my own wife's ire to contend with."
"Then by all means, begone! And extend my good wishes to your wife," Aragorn replied. He was still chuckling when Faramir left.
Movement in the gardens outside Aragorn's window caught his attention. Moving closer, he saw Dómiel, seated on a low bench, laughing as Eldarion acted out some tale – most likely heavily embellished for the telling.
His elder daughter caught sight of his face in the window and waved gleefully.
Aragorn waved back, smiling fondly at one of the most precious treasures in his palace before reluctantly returning to his work.
The End
Author's Final Notes: Yes, it's done! A huge THANK YOU to all of my amazing reviewers for your support, your encouragement, and your comments. I appreciate every single one of my reviews. I hope all of you enjoyed this story. If you did, and you haven't reviewed, I would love to hear your comments!
sabercrazy – Yeah…I know…and this one took just as long, I'm afraid. But, seriously, what did you think of the last couple chapters?
Noel – Don't worry…I didn't kill Aragorn off. I don't want to think about the bad consequences THAT would have on my health… But, thank you for the reviews and the support! (YES)
AragothwinElfBlade – Wow…you actually LIKE cliffhangers? I suppose it's better than death threats. Thank you for the review. I hope you liked the ending!
ScarsOnAScribbler'sHeart – Thank you so much for your thoughtful review! I do put a lot of thought into my titles, and I'm glad you appreciate them. It's nice to get such a specific review. I'm very glad you enjoyed my story!
SapphireRose – I had to get a little bit of angst in there, now didn't I? Thank you so much for the reviews and the help with the inspiration and for beta-ing. Just…lots of thanks!
To all the rest of my reviewers (and those of you reading this who don't review…) – Again, I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll see you all next story! 'Til then, farewell, and may God bless you! ~Mizalaye