Author: Mirrordance
Title: Escape
Summary: Aragorn is lost during a tour with the Rangers, and Legolas later finds him in Bree, without his memories & happily relieved of all his noble burdens, making the elf hesitate to bring him back to who he truly was.
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PART NINE
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Legolas found that the days seemed infinitely long here, and it rushed for nothing and no one. It's as if the world and its evils were a distant dream, and life flowed moment by moment. It all went on and on forever and ever, and he's only been staying a little while!
It was undoubtedly the quietest non-adventure he's ever had with Estel (perhaps this is because he is actually with non-Estel), and there was just so little to do. Time was slowing itself down again, and he was beginning to believe he really was going to live forever. They all were at the rate things were going here.
Which wasn't altogether a bad thing, he realized.
I no longer count days, Estel, he thought to himself, Perhaps this is not such a bad place to be in after all. Not for you, and not for me.
He spent the mornings hunting game with Estel and Haldir for the entire household to have meat to eat. The afternoons he spent tending a piteous garden that somehow managed to survive in front of the house. Sari and Teresa managed the kitchens. Damien and Biggles kept the children occupied with games, while Estel taught them literature and numbers later in the day. Haldir would help in the education, and though he seemed to do it begrudgingly, there was some ill-concealed appreciation in his eyes when the children understood him. And then there was Queen Cecilia generally keeping to herself, scrawling some strange new story for the Company to produce. Legolas would hear her mutter once in awhile, as if she was trying to find the right words and needed to hear it out loud.
During the nights, the men of the household took shifts of watching to ensure everyone's safety. And though the house was distant from the other human settlements in the area, it mostly remained undisturbed by dark, dangerous forces.
One of these said nights, Legolas sat upon the house's wooden porch, sipping Teresa's tea. He sensed the girl had a partiality for Sari, but took to giving all the night-watchers tea and occasional company anyway.
Subtle creaking from inside the house brought to his attention the arrival of one he did not expect to want to accompany him on his watch, however.
He looked up at Cecilia uncertainly, "Good evening."
She gave him a curt nod, and seemed torn over whether she would sit with him or stay standing by the doorway. Pursing her lips, she came to a decision and stepped forward, sitting beside him.
"You know who he is," said Cecilia, her voice soft but her tone harsh, "And I knew it the very moment I saw your face that night in Bree. But I guarantee you, whoever he used to be, it is all changed now. He belongs with us."
Legolas' jaws set. He took a deep breath. "Since we are no longer mincing words, madam. With all due respect to you and all the good that you are trying to do here, but, you ought to know. For that man much greater things are meant than this. You do not know who he is."
"And I care not," Cecilia snapped, "He is ours now. Finders keepers. We need him, desperately. He can keep us alive and safe. But mostly because we love him. And he desires to stay. So he has a right to."
"He knows not what he desires," Legolas seethed, "He does not even know his own name!"
"He knows enough," argued Cecilia.
"Hardly!" scoffed Legolas, "He knows nothing. And you know nothing."
She stared at him, measuring. There was curiosity now in those sharp eyes. And yet her pride was so fierce she bit her tongue and stopped short of asking precisely what it was she ought to know about their dear Dalsegno. Or perhaps it was her fear that held her back. She feared to know. She feared any reason there was to let go of that loveable and all at once insufferable man.
"He is ours," Cecilia said, struggling to keep control of her voice, "We are all happy here. Be gone. Or if you must stay, do not play dirty and remind him of his past. 'Tis not merely that wound on his head that makes him forget. 'Tis the greater one in his heart. I do not know what it is, but I know it is there. I know with my mother's heart. I heard his mutterings at night and though I cannot understand the words, his pain is clearly marked. Leave him be. He needs us. And we need him."
"We need him more," insisted Legolas, "Can you not understand that he owns a life before this? A life beyond this. A life accompanied by responsibilities, and a particular fate? You have no right to rob him of this. Or rob those to whom he has always belonged with."
Including me…
"And besides," Legolas continued, "I do not need your permission to do as I please or know to be necessary. I will eventually tell him all the things that he needs to hear. But I know, I know that he will not go without your leave and he most certainly will not go with all those tears I now see lodged stubbornly in your eyes. But you must let him, madam. He must be released. And you in turn would never again have to fear for the safety of all those that you shelter here, I promise you. You have unwittingly courted a bevy of powerful friends. But he, he must remember. And in remembering, he must leave."
"He is happy here," Cecilia said stubbornly, "You have no right to rob him of this. And you have no right to defy me in my own house."
"I did not cast the cards of this fate," said Legolas, "Nor do I wish to be the bearer of your grief. But this is a role that needs playing, and this is the one that has been given to me."
They fell to an uneasy silence for a breath, a moment. She seemed to be thinking of the things he had said.
"Who is he, elf?" Cecilia said softly, looking away from Legolas, "I lied. I do care. And if you must shatter this paradise for us than I should at least be entitled to knowing why."
"It's not my tale to tell," Legolas admitted, "Suffice it to say he will save all of mankind one day. Is this reason enough for you?"
"No," she confessed, shaking her head, "Life is too short to think of such things, master elf. All I know is what is now. You say that for him much greater things are meant. But he is happy here, he is loved here, and of joy and loving there are no greater things. If one man cannot be happy, I know not what it is you are all trying to save. The world shall move as it ultimately will. But let him have his peace. This is one man who has already given more than enough, by the light he has brought to my days, and the days of all who live here. Let us have our peace."
It was his turn to fall silent. He weighed her words, and began to doubt. But time would speed up once more, and the life beyond the peace and isolation of this house would shake it again, in a way that was more dangerous than the troubles of a weary heart.
"Go back inside," Legolas told the old woman.
"I will not be dismissed—" she said, thinking he was offended by what he heard and was sending her away. His warm hand upon her mouth cut off her words.
"Orcs," he said softly, and her eyes widened in sudden realization. He set his hand down and made ready his bow, gathering his feet and pulling her up to stand with him. "Inside the house if you please."
"I've long since defended this house without you," she whispered harshly, "I can fight them."
"Cecilia," Estel said, appearing by the door, flanked by Sari, Haldir, Teresa, Damien and Biggles. Legolas knew it was only a matter of time before the other elves of the household sensed the intruders nearby and summoned the other warriors (or in the case of Damien and Biggles, the semi-warriors).
"Watch the children," Estel told the stubborn old woman, knowing that if there was one order she would obey, it was this.
Cecilia looked at him with burning eyes, but she nodded and pulled Teresa with her. The two women vanished into the house and separated at the doors to the two children's rooms.
"They are not too near," Legolas told the others quietly, "Perhaps they will pass us by."
"They often just do," said Sari, "But their steps seem urgent. And… and many."
"They chase after something," Haldir deduced, "The steps come ever closer."
"They must not sight the house," Estel said determinedly, "For they pillage and burn all that come across their path."
"We face them under the trees," Legolas concluded, eyeing the adan and wondering if he was in any shape to fight. Curiously, Legolas also noted that Estel's trusty sword was not with him. He was holding a rusted old pitchfork obviously commandeered from the stables. Such a tool was lethal in the hands of a skilled warrior, of course, but that blade was practically a part of Estel's hand and its absence was potent. It grabbed Legolas' attention almost as much as Haldir's was fixated with the butcher's knife Biggles was holding.
"You will not use that for dinner, will you?" Haldir asked, trying to diffuse the youth's obviously frayed nerves.
"I'll clean it afterwards," Biggles said quickly.
"I'll never eat here again," Haldir declared.
Damien, on the other hand, was holding a long, slim stick fashioned from near-black wood. He was quiet and painfully shy, but the pressing danger seemed to send fire coursing through his veins and flashing from his eyes. The awkward actor had some skill to him yet, Legolas guessed. They were not very badly short-handed after all. But as it was, the strongest of warriors here was Haldir and himself, with Estel and Sari still recovering from their injuries, and the aging Damien and nerve-wrecked Biggles.
"Estel and Damien with me," Legolas said, "We will go around them and take them from behind."
"We take the front," Haldir nodded, "Until later, my friends."
TO BE CONTINUED…
