Author: Mirrordance
Title: Sacred Betrayal
Summary: Elrohir forfeits the life of his brother Elladan for a secret price and Aragorn and Legolas go to unspoken dangers to discover the cause of this most sacred of betrayals…
PART 2: Returns
* * *
Eastern Borders of Imladris
* * *
~How far would you go to keep a promise?~
~Until it's fulfilled,~ he replied, ~You know this.~
Silence.
~You talk as if you know it's going to be you,~ he said.
~Just in case.~
Disembodied voices in the dark. Long ago had that conversation been, but the darkness lent it a nearness such that each time Elrohir closed his eyes, he felt as if those last few words were spoken just moments before, and his brother still stood before him, with that sad grin he could not see, but could hear from the nuances of his voice.
Elrohir opened his eyes, and his present reality was entirely different. The sun was high above the sky, and graced the fields warmly. He knew by the sights and sounds of the land that he was nearing home. A home that would be much tarnished when he returns, much… diminished.
But still the beauty of the nearing Imladris was undeniable, and it struck a bitter chord in his weathered heart. So beautiful a sight for so sad a day…
He clenched his fists tighter about the smelly, ragged sack that he held. It was bloodstained, and looked torn and world-weary, just like him. And it carried a secret burden, just like him…
He sucked in a harsh breath, as difficult because of his injuries as it was because of his thoughts. He was tired, and despairing, and so helplessly angered. His rage lent him the strength to move forward, step by step, moment by moment. But even that was waning…
He stumbled once, and he caught himself on his hands and knees, the sound of the sack against the ground grotesquely dull. He blinked at his reactive tears, before he gathered his feet.
He sighted a lonely brush of a tree surrounded by the grassy flatlands. He stumbled his way towards it, and fell to his knees upon its meager shade. Here, the soil was cooler and softer. And here is where the secret would be taken to the ground, out of sight, if not out of his mind.
Clawing his already-bleeding hands, he scratched at the ground, tentatively at first, and then harshly and quickly, as if it deserved all his rage and anger. He dug about an arm's length deep, and he placed the sack into the whole gently, murmuring elvish prayers and goodbye's.
He was in the middle of this when he heard the thunder of anxious horse hooves approaching from somewhere behind him. For a moment, his heart fluttered in nervousness; did they come to get him after all? But his mind calmed him. No, orcs do not ride horses. Either way, he had to act quickly. The evidence must be hid.
The secret must be kept.
The promise must be fulfilled.
He gathered the displaced soil and threw them hurriedly over the hole he had dug. And then he pounded on the re-covered ground, just as a pair of riders appeared in the horizon, and set their course towards him.
Elrohir recognized them both, and his heart constricted at the safety they projected and their wonderful familiarity, even as it was pained by his loss, and their bitter reminders…
"Elrohir!" Aragorn exclaimed, dismounting his horse even before it came to a complete halt. He fell to his knees on the ground before his adoptive brother and clutched at his shoulders.
"Estel," Elrohir said softly, as he looked searchingly into the man's eyes, seeking something of only he knew.
Aragorn looked about him anxiously. ~Where are the others?~
~Ten left and one returns,~ snapped Elrohir tightly, ~What in all of Arda do you think happened?~
Aragorn looked at him with wide, despairing eyes. He knew the answer, but he had to ask…
--
~Elladan?~
--
~He too is gone.~
* * *
Rivendell
* * *
Two returning sons and a messenger appeared in the horizon. There was a great clamor in the household, and as the three riders approached its doors, the Lord of Imladris himself came out running, his robes rustling behind him as he beheld his children.
Aragorn felt Elrohir, who sat in front of him, take a deep shaky breath and release it in a sigh that seemed to empty him completely; with it his body became limp and boneless, as if he were deflated, as if he were defeated.
"Ada," he said softly, barely a whisper, as Lord Elrond moved forward and ushered him to the ground, embracing him as he sank to the floor on his knees.
~I can't help him,~ he sobbed helplessly, ~I can't help him. Elladan is lost to us. I can't help him. I am so sorry ada. I am so sorry.~
Elrond held him tightly, and looked up at Aragorn as he dismounted his horse. Aragorn could say nothing, though his eyes spoke in volumes, as they rested against the sight of father and son holding each other in despair so uncharacteristic of them.
The elves around them averted their gazes, as if the sight stung them. As if it was unbearable, and in more ways than one perhaps it really was. The House of Elrond had been stained by an irrecoverable loss. Its strength had been defied. It had lost one of its children.
* * *
Aragorn heard the near-imperceptible footsteps of his adoptive father as the elf lord came up behind him. For a moment, they stood in silence, surveying the land of Imladris from the vantage point of the balconied veranda. The winds were whipping this evening, though all else was still.
"Legolas was with me when I found out," Aragorn said at last, breaking the quiet, "He said he will speak with his father about expanding their border patrols to search for Elladan and Elrohir. I am certain that the soldiers of Mirkwood are hard at work in this, in case the orcs head to Dol Guldur."
"Their aid is much appreciated," said Elrond, "I will ensure that their family and realm receive our utmost gratitude, when I send word for them at first light tomorrow to call off their searching."
Aragorn opened his mouth as if to speak, but held himself back, and kept his own thoughts for awhile.
--
"You have a magical way about you, Estel," Elrond said quietly, this time the one to break the weighty silence. Aragorn could hear the small, lonely smile upon his face from that tone in his voice, "One moment I send for you, and the next you return with Elrohir."
"I had nothing to do with it," Aragorn said wearily, "I was merely his… his donkey. He was so near he could have walked the rest of the way and be here in less than a day."
"Still," Elrond said.
"How is he?" Aragorn asked, turning to Elrond with furrowed brows and burning eyes.
"Arwen is with him," replied Elrond, "She knows his heart, but could never understand it as much as you or… or as Elladan had."
--
~This couldn't be true, ada,~ said Aragorn, ~I refuse to believe it. I cannot.~
--
~I have already recalled our soldiers that I have set upon the search,~ said Elrond softly, ~Your brother says there is no reason anymore. Elladan is lost. They all are. We will not even find corpses for the brutality of the yrchs.~
~There is something wrong with this situation, ada,~ insisted Aragorn, ~I can't tell what exactly, but I feel it. You say I understand Elrohir. Then bank on this and hear what I say. Do not completely call off that search. And for that matter, postpone your word to Mirkwood a few days.~
~Why would your brother lie?~ Elrond pointed out, ~Accept it, Estel. It is good to always hope, but there lies a fine line between that and irrationality.~
~Rationality has little to do with this,~ said Aragorn, ~This is Elladan. My brother. Your son. It's our hearts. What's another few days?~
~I do not know where you are going with this,~ sighed Elrond, looking away from him, ~I look at your burning eyes and you are giving me a hope that Elrohir, who was there, assures me is false. Do not play with my heart, Estel. Cease this madness. Please.~
Aragorn set his jaws, and stared at Lord Elrond intently. ~Elrohir kept saying "I can't help him." It is in the present tense. There is a story here, ada. And it can spell the difference between Elladan's life and death.~
~Tenses!~ said Lord Elrond disgustedly, as if it were a curse, and Aragorn watched as the mighty Lord of Imladris blinked at the thick tears that were welling in his eyes, ~You are mad,~ he said softly, though he struggled to smile, ~But what of that is new?~
Aragorn gripped Lord Elrond's shoulder, and the elf held his hand and squeezed it.
~The gods help you, Estel,~ he said, ~I pray your intuition leads us to Elladan.~
* * *
The new day was greeted by a shock of golden light from the rising sun. It cast Rivendell in a fiery glow and unearthly beauty, a sight that Elrohir used to love to wake to.
He blinked at the light, as if it stung him, as if it burnt him. He pushed himself up to his elbows, staring out upon his bedroom window. It took him some moments to recognize another presence in the room, and he turned to look at Aragorn sitting upon a weathered old chair in one corner of the room. The human's elbows were pressed to his knees, and his hands clasped as if in a strange, fervent prayer that seemed to rest in his eyes.
Curse those eyes, Elrohir thought, shifting uncomfortably in their assault. Estel always was giftedly perceptive, and Elrohir feared having to say premature truths before his steely gaze.
"Where did Elladan fall?" Aragorn asked him softly.
~I do not want to talk about it,~ Elrohir said with finality.
"I understand," said Aragorn, nodding and rising to his feet. Elrohir then noticed that he was wearing his weathered hunting clothes.
~Where are you going?~ he asked the human.
"To look for Elladan," replied Aragorn coolly, "Even if all I ever find is his corpse."
This seemed to enrage Elrohir into tossing his covers and rising up to his feet. He wavered a little, but he held his ground with the strength of his pride.
~You will do no such thing.~
"Why?" snapped Aragorn, "It seems you have given up enough for all of us. I will do this and you cannot stop me."
~You think I love him less for what I do not do?~ asked Elrohir, enraged, ~You are gravely mistaken, human. You do not know a thing.~
"Then tell me," insisted Aragorn, "Correct me."
"I can't."
"You can't correct me," said Aragorn dryly, slighted by Elrohir's spitting tone when he had said human, "And you can't help him. Can you do anything at all?"
~I can stop you from this madness,~ said Elrohir boldly, blocking Aragorn's path.
"You can't," Aragorn guaranteed him, "I almost dare you to try."
--
"You would usually be the first in line for this madness thing," said Aragorn quietly, "This is Elladan. Why stop now. Why ever."
~Let it rest, Estel,~ Elrohir said tiredly, ~Elladan would never wish for you to endanger yourself for lost causes. Please. Let it all be. I beg of you.~
Aragorn's brows furrowed. He had never known his brother to beg, as he had never known that defeated, lost tone.
Aragorn sidestepped Elrohir cleanly, and strode to the door.
"I can't."
* * *
He hides a secret, Aragorn decided, his thoughts drifting as he rode his horse with his party of four soldiers.
It was not just the pain of brokenness and loss that rested in Elrohir's eyes, one that was uncommon of the few survivors of orc attacks and captivity. But it was a heavy, weighing responsibility.
~I can't help him.~
~I can't help him.~
If Elladan was indeed dead, then Elrohir had a strange hand in it; one that wasn't only a question of not being able to protect him. He was in a position riddled with guilt that was not only of not acting, but of doing something that had been detrimental to his own brother.
~I am so sorry Ada,~ he had said in that anguished, tired, hopeless sobbing.
~Ten left and one returns,~ snapped Elrohir tightly, ~What in all of Arda do you think happened?~
Aragorn shook his head, an answer beginning to form in his head even as it eluded him.
~We are nearing where we had found him yesterday, Master Estel,~ the rider beside him, who was also the messenger from the day before pointed out.
~How did he come to be here?~ asked another soldier, ~He had traveled on foot, which means those who had captured him and from whom he had escaped could not have been too far.~
~He is loathe to speak of such matters yet,~ said Aragorn, his eyes drifting to the tree underneath which he and the messenger he was with had spotted Elrohir the day before.
He remembered it well. He had sighted the familiar figure from the distance, and he looked like a dream, in the middle of this green field, beneath its solitary tree.
Curiously, the elf had been on his hands and knees…
Digging at the dirt with his hands.
Urging his horse forward, Aragorn rode hard towards the tree, and he heard the riders follow him, even if they were unsure as to what the strange human was doing.
Aragorn dismounted his horse in a blur, and intently looked upon the patterns of the soil on the ground.
His hands had clawed at the ground here…
His feet had stomped at the soil here…
Clawing his own hands and digging with them, he unearthed a foul-smelling, bloodstained, ragged sack.
He muttered a curse as he drew it out. And turned it over, catching the contents on his palm.
Aghast, the dull contents of the sack fell to the hard ground when he jerked his hand away at their first clammy contact with his skin.
His stomach heaved. He was going to be ill. This was not right. This was downright evil.
He forced his eyes to look, and his mind to stop reeling. On the ground were brutally cut ears. Pointed, they must have once belonged to elves. Pairs and pairs of severed elf ears lay on the ground.
He heard the soldiers behind him utter curses, the others curbed their tongue and settled for prayers. Aragorn decided to, well, count them.
~Ten left and one returns,~ Elrohir had snapped that day he had been found, ~What in all of Arda do you think happened?~
I don't know, my friend, Aragorn thought, But today you will give me the answers that I seek.
All he knew was that of the ten who had left for that fateful hunt, one returned, and eight pairs of severed elf ears lay before him, making only nine. There is one hunter who had left that day and remains unaccounted for.
Elladan lives.
TO BE CONTINUED…