The darkness slowly released its hold on his senses as his brain slowly became aware that he was in fact awake. Voices filtered through the fog he was in and eventually became louder and clearer. Passing off the voices for a time, he concentrated on evaluating himself. Both legs still worked, stiff and sore but no pain. That was good. Moving his fingers gently, he felt the blanket under his finger tips. Even better. His torso was not good, and neither was his back. A slight shift caused his back and chest to explode and send him into a world of pain. The pain would have made him gasp but he suddenly realized that he wasn't breathing. He felt his chest ache as his lungs inflated and deflated but didn't feel any air rush through is nose or mouth.
His eyes snapped open as he suddenly sat up in fear. Strong arms pushed him back down as a dark shape loomed over him. His sudden struggles produced a brand new pain centered at his throat and he felt a hand close around his throat. Something else held down his arms and legs as he fought desperately to get free. He needed to get loose, he needed to breath.
"Stop struggling you foolish elf!"
That voice, he knew that voice. The voice was a comforting one that reminded him of safety and someone he should know. A wave of exhaustion washed over him and he allowed the hands to push him back. Blinding slowly, she fuzzy shadow over him cleared and he recognized the face before it blurred again.
'Aragorn' he murmured with a weak smile, knowing that he was safe if his friend was here.
"Yes, it is I. You need to rest Legolas; your body has been through much and needs to recover," Aragorn said, seeing the recognition in his friend's eyes.
Legolas looked at him confused and Aragorn sighed as he pushed a strand of golden hair off his friend's sweaty brow.
"Rest and I shall explain when you awaken again."
Aragorn saw the acceptance in the elf's eyes and his eyelids slowly closed. He frowned needed the deep healing sleep. Carefully removing his hand from the elf's throat, he checked the pipe and wiped away the small trickle of blood that started from his struggles. He looked up at the elf that stood on the opposite side of the bed and nodded slightly.
"He will recover, my lord. There should be no permanent damage," Aragorn said and saw the Elvin king relax.
Thranduil had been a nervous wreck since he had seen his warriors ride back. Normally a slow pace meant that no one was injured and everything was well but the slow pace was a cautious slow pace. As they neared the palace, the king had glimpsed the simple makeshift litter and the gentleness that the two warriors used to carry it. It could have been only one of two suspects and the sight of the Ranger walking next to the litter ruled out one. Thranduil had quickly dismissed the council he had been in and rushed out to open the gates. He had slid to a halt upon seeing the wooden pipe jutting out of his son's throat and the exhausted Ranger. The other healers had bustled around making the prince comfortable while Aragorn had told him the entire store of what occurred. Needless to say, the Elvin king had been furious and Aragorn had a momentary surge of fear for his life.
"Lord Elrond trained you well," Thranduil said as he released his grip on Legolas' legs.
"I had never been so scared in my life. I do not know which would have been worse. Legolas dieing because I did not know what to do or dieing by my hands if I messed up," he sighed and nodded to the healer that would stay with Legolas.
"I am glad you acted," he said and walked with the human out into the hallway.
"I am also. The swelling should go down enough in a day or two and then I can remove the tube."
Thranduil reached out suddenly and caught the human as he stumbled and almost fell to his knees. Aragorn shook his head to clear his vision and realized that the king was talking to him.
"What?"
Thranduil raised an elegant eyebrow in worry and repeated his question. "When was the last time you rested or took food?"
"For some time I think, but I am fine," Aragorn assured and saw the doubt in the king's expression.
"Every time my son or you say that you are 'fine' then it always means that you are far from it," he said and caught the attention of a passing aide. "Silomon, please help Estel to the royal guest chamber and bring him some food from the kitchens."
The elf nodded and bundled off the muttering Ranger. Thranduil sighed and rubbed his forehead. He knew if it were possible for elves to get headaches then he would have once. His mind kept revolving back to the dragon that Estel had spoken of. He had thought that all the dragons had departed these lands or had been killed in the First Age but it had apparently not been so. He should write Elrond and see if the lord knew of a dragon in any parts. Perhaps Mithrandir the wizard knew of one, he mused and walked into his office. Sitting behind his desk, he pulled out a blank parchment and a quill preparing to write to Lord Elrond.
Aragorn rolled over and groaned in annoyance. He had tried to rest in his room after eating but he kept imagining everything that could possibly happen to Legolas' breathing tube. With a grunt, he pushed aside the covers and climbed out of the bed. Pulling on a clean tunic and leggings, he slipped out of his room and walked towards the healing wing barefoot. The door opened silently when he pushed against it and stepped into the room. He waved away the apprentice healer and pulled up a spare chair to sit next to Legolas' bed. He could hear the soft whistling from the wooden pipe that soothed his immediate fears. Moving the chair as close as possible to the bed, he stretched out his long legs and gently rested his hand on the elf's chest. Finally feeling relaxed enough to rest, the Ranger allowed his eyes to close as he leaned his head back to rest.
Legolas blinked to bring the room into focus just as someone walked into the room. He didn't dare move his head to view the visitor and had to wait for the person to move into his field of vision. Almost immediately, his father's face loomed above him and gently brushed his fingers over his son's forehead.
"Greetings my son," Thranduil whispered.
'Adar' he mouthed weakly, knowing he shouldn't attempt to speak.
"I should have known that neither Aragorn nor you could arrive unharmed."
'Aragorn?'
"He is asleep on a chair next to you. I fear his neck will be stiff when he awakens."
Legolas shifted his body slightly which caused Aragorn to jerk awake and almost fall out of the chair. His feet crashed to the floor and he flinched when he stretched his next. He looked over at Legolas and saw the elf's eyes watching him and brightly smiling.
"I hope you are enjoying this. Whenever you get into trouble, I lose sleep," he muttered and rubbed his face.
"You can rest assured that if the roles were reversed then my son would remain by your side and refuse to leave," Thranduil smiled and Legolas rolled his eyes.
"I am sure," Aragorn muttered and stood from the chair to sit on the edge of the bed.
He removed the athela soaked cloth from Legolas' neck and gently felt around his neck. Even though his hands were well versed to wield a sword, they were sensitive and could detect the slightest change in pulse.
"Open your mouth please."
Aragorn's trained eye saw the improvement of tissue but was still swollen. He was worried that if he took the tube out then Legolas would still have difficulty breathing. Releasing his friend's throat, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He suddenly wished that Elrond was here instead of him. Maybe the elf lord knew of some other plant that would be better to reduce the swelling more. A nudge at his arm pulled his gaze to Legolas who was watching him closely.
'Tell me.'
"I am not sure. The damage was extensive to the tissue around your throat and even though you are an elf there will be scar tissue. It may fade with time but I can not be sure. The rope also partially crushed your larynx; it is the organ that creates vocal sounds."
"Vocal sounds?" Thranduil asked faintly.
"Voice. Yelling, screaming, talking, and singing. All of it would be affected."
"To what extent?"
"It may be only a slight octave or he may lose all speaking ability. It may be for only a day or forever. I can not be sure. Only time will tell. The swelling has gone down enough that I can take the tube out tomorrow morning or tonight possibly," Aragorn said, seeing the shellshock in the king's eyes. "I will confer with my father and obtain his opinion."
Aragorn stood and walked out of the room, not able to look Legolas in the eye. He had failed his friend and could barely stand under the shame. He would write to his father but he knew that his answer would be the same. He had felt the damage himself when he had palpated Legolas' throat. Walking into his room, he shut the door and leaned back against it. His head snapped back and slammed into the door as his mask slipped to reveal his emotions. His hands clenched and unclenched angrily as he paced around the room looking for something to vent his anger.
Slowly reining in his anger, he quickly wrote to his father describing everything that occurred and what he felt along Legolas' throat. Searching out the bird master, he sent off the letter and watched the bird fly away. Turning away, he slowly started walking across the courtyard as he stared at the grass passing under his feet. The grass started to pass quicker and he was soon running. Tears burned his eyes as he crashed through the tree line and into the small forest. He kept running as far as his throbbing legs would carry him; carry him away from his failure. The palace outer wall rushed towards him as his legs finally gave out and he stumbled against the wall. He leaned against the wall and hung his head between his arms as sobs shook his entire body. His knees buckled and he knelt on the leaf strewn ground as he sobbed and covered his eyes. The animals of the night watched as the future king of men, their hope, broke down and cried for his failure.
Early the next morning, Aragorn received a reply from Elrond and contained what Aragorn expected. No one could be sure what to expect. It was the answer he was expecting if he had been honest with himself. The letter was in his pocket when he came into Legolas' room to remove the tube. Thranduil stood at the foot of the bed as Aragorn organized the things he would need.
"I will give you a draught for the pain. I will have to stitch the hole and it will hurt."
'No.'
"Legolas, please. Normally I would not ask this of you but I worry that you may jerk away. I fear of doing more harm," he said sadly and looked at his hands resting in his lap.
He looked up and watched Legolas as the elf slowly nodded. Quickly mixing the herbs in a cup, he helped the elf prince drink and waited for the herbs to take affect. A glaze slowly washed over the elf's eyes and his features slackened. Shifting closer to Legolas, he slowly pulled out the pipe and held his breath. Small bits of skin stuck to the pips as it slipped out and blood dribbled down his throat. He picked up the needle and thread and with quick hands he stitched the windpipe and overlapping skin before dropping the needle and thread on the tray. Picking up a clean cloth, he wiped away the excess blood and double checked everything. Pulling over a bowl, he gingerly picked up the damp cloth from the warm water with steeped athelas and wrung out the cloth. He folded the cloth and laid it against the wound to speed the healing process.
"He should awaken within two or three hours. The healers should watch for infection and keep it clean," he said and set aside the tray.
"May I speak with you outside Aragorn?"
Aragorn nodded and stood to follow Thranduil out into the hallway. The king closed the door before looking at the human with the stoic, ruler expression. Aragorn swallowed his fear and glanced down at the floor before looking back up to Thranduil.
"I received a reply from my father early this morning. I am sorry my king, but his answer was the same as mine. Only time can heal Legolas' wounds," Aragorn said and gave Thranduil the letter from Elrond.
Thranduil quickly read the letter and dropped his arms to his side. He tipped his head back and looked up at the ceiling.
"How is it that my son, an elf, is condemned to be a mute, by a human?" he asked and trapped Aragorn with his glare.
Aragorn flinched at the barb from the elf king but kept his mouth shut. Everything he said only served to drive the dagger of guilt deeper.
"Sire, it may not be permanent."
"But it very well may be! My son shall never be able to sing, laugh, or joke anymore because of you human! You have condemned him for the rest of his life because you made a mistake! I should have known to never to trust a human! The human spirit and will were always weak just like your ancestors and just like you! My son was erring in calling you a friend when you obviously do not deserve his friendship!"
Aragorn bowed his head in shame and squeezed his eyes shut to contain his tears. The king's words were only a mere scolding compared to what Aragorn was saying to himself. He chided his decisions, his faults and everything that made him Aragorn, son of Arathorn. A sharp pain in his hand turned his attention to his right hand and he looked down while half listening to Thranduil. The wooden pipe was jabbing into his palm, drawing blood. His blood mixed with the blood already on the pipe. Legolas' blood. He watched with detached amusement as the blood mixed together and seeped back into his wound.
His head snapped up to stare at Thranduil when something important caught his immediate attention.
"What?"
"You are no longer welcomed in this Elvin realm. If you dare to enter this realm then I will have you shot," Thranduil snarled and Aragorn somehow knew that the elf king was not kidding.
"I accept that King Thranduil. Please, tell Legolas that I am sorry."
Aragorn turned and walked away from the king and went towards his room. Pulling out his pack, he stuffed all of his possessions into the pack and grabbed his boots. Once lacing up his boots, he pulled on his overcoat and looked down at the bloody pipe in his hand. Holding open the coat, he slipped the pipe into a small pocket before grabbing his pack. Casting one more glance at the room, Aragorn grabbed his weapons and swung the pack over his shoulder and strode out of the room. He swung his bow over his shoulder and double checked his daggers at his waist as he walked through the imposing halls. Several warriors watched him as he passed and he guessed that Thranduil's edict had already been passed to all the guards and warriors. Down-casting his gaze, he continued through the halls and finally emerged into the outdoors.
The massive gates were already open waiting for him to pass. Stepping over the threshold, he stopped and turned to look back on the palace just as the doors started to close. Sighing deeply, he turned and started walking towards the forest. With each step, he felt his heart grow heavier and his shame grow deeper.