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.
* * *
PART ELEVEN
* * *
Haldir watched the Mirkwood elf as he worked meticulously in binding the wound on his arm. The white strips of cloth they sacrificed a blanket for was wound about him in such a compulsively careful way that it lent Haldir some amusement.
Haldir was seated at the kitchen table, with Legolas' face pressed so near to the wound that the Mirkwood elf's breath tickled his skin. Legolas' brows were furrowed in great concentration.
~This is taking you forever,~ Haldir declared.
Legolas glanced up at him, lips quirking to a smile just as he finished the final knot. ~I am sorry. I'm not as instinctively good at it as Estel is. I have to be more careful.~
~If this catches on a nail,~ said Haldir, ~And snags and breaks apart, it will shatter my heart to tell you.~
Legolas smiled, ~Let us hope Estel remembers his healing ways by then, because I have no plans of doing this over. You know, he really is very good. Lord Elrond himself taught him, and he's learned other ways in his years with the Rangers. A shame, really, that I didn't pick up on it very well.~
~You do most things well, Prince Legolas,~ Haldir said seriously, averting his eyes from Legolas' surprised ones and studying the binding, ~Even this. Thank you.~
Embarrassed at the praise, Legolas simply smiled and stepped back. ~Well. There you go. As Estel would say, ah, do not push yourself too hard. Where is he, anyway?~
~I believe he muttered something about going to sleep,~ Haldir replied, ~I think you are giving him headaches.~
Legolas winced, ~Oh if he only knew what headaches he gives me.~
~It seems they come whenever he is about to remember things,~ said Haldir, ~And I believe our arrival here is stirring up his old ghosts. Or perhaps, your arrival here.~
Legolas shook his head, dismayed of the entire situation. ~He cannot stay here forever. None of us can, much as we may want to. It is an illusion. No more.~
~You intend to tell him of his past plainly?~ Haldir inquired.
~I don't know,~ Legolas admitted, ~I am thinking I should just wait for him to recall. But I don't know if we have time to wait.~
~That is not all that you are thinking,~ Haldir guessed, reading the dark and sad looked that crossed Legolas' eyes, ~You know as well as I that he must be restored. Not only for those who love him but for those he can save. He is the human King. He must not be left here.~
~I know, I know,~ said Legolas, but knowing doesn't always mean we understand. He for one, cannot understand a fate that was so cruel it would take them to all these ridiculous side-trips and thereafter begged them to return from where it was they came. It all felt so ridiculous, and fruitless.
It was at this time that Biggles stepped into the kitchen and sat down on the chair in front of Haldir.
"Oh we are so lucky to have elf-warriors in the fold," the youth said, sighing.
"I frankly do not know how it is that you've managed to survive without aid for so long," Haldir commented.
"We barely have," Biggles conceded.
"You should be closer to the other settlements," Legolas suggested, "To be out here is just madness."
"Cecilia will not leave," Biggles said, lowering his voice, "And I mean absolutely never. She lost her husband and two sons trying to defend this place. She has paid too much to give it up now. This is her home. The grass that grows here was fed by the blood of her family. The house's rafters and doors, windows and glass, all made by the hands of those she has loved and lost. She will stay here forever. And none of us will leave without her."
Legolas brows furrowed. And so the woman had a dark past to her too. She would lose no more sons, this time. And Estel… Dalsegno, was by now regarded not merely as a beloved son but also the protector of the others that she shelters.
"Where is the child we rescued, by the way?" Haldir asked, "Is it well?"
"He will not speak," said Biggles, wincing, "He is still wary. He would not even let me undress and bathe him. But Teresa is with him now. She will succeed, she always has."
Haldir hopped from the table. "It seems all is well, for now."
"Sari is taking over the rest of the watch," Biggles yawned, "I don't mind at all. I'm rather tired."
"I'll keep Sari company," Legolas offered to Haldir, "Your wound will heal more quickly if you rest more."
Haldir opened his mouth to argue. But the unthinking Biggles took him by his bad arm, and the Lothlorien elf winced in pain and bit his lip instead, unhappily suffering the youth who dragged him to their quarters. Legolas smiled at him cheekily and waved him good night. The other elf scowled at him as he was led away.
Shaking his head in amusement, Legolas stepped from the kitchen and began to head toward the front of the house. He was about to join Sari outside when he heard the elf singing a lullaby. He lightened his steps and stopped by the door. Teresa was standing there, one hand to the doorframe and another over her heart, watching the fetching sight of Sari with his arms about the scrawny little boy they aided this night. The boy was quickly falling asleep, but apparently, Teresa did have a measure of success with him because his still-wet hair and now-clean clothes made him look fresh and wonderfully young.
Teresa turned to face Legolas, and her eyes were shining. There was love there she could no longer hide. He gave her a slight smile, and excused himself wordlessly, walking back to his quarters and leaving her to that which gave her joy.
He seemed to be doing that for people a lot lately.
* * *
Outskirts of Bree
Earlier in 3014
* * *
Life was thrice-damned for all that was kind and good!
Grunting, Strider pulled himself from the ravages of the water, relieved that he survived not only the orc-skirmish, but also the consequent fall, when amidst the fight the ground beneath him and his enemy fell beneath their feet, sending them over a cliff that overlooked a stunning river below.
Thereafter, not only did he survive the fall (the orc was not has sturdy as he), but also the harshness and cold of the wild water. Perhaps he was lucky. But if he was truly lucky, he never should have had to survive any of these.
The wildly running water took him into its demanding arms, tossing him here and there, sending him further and further away from the troop of Rangers who were by that time undoubtedly looking for his corpse.
Sighing, he sat up on the ground, thinking of his options, soaking wet and miserable. His body ached, and he was weary from travel, from fighting, from swimming, from running, and walking, and women, and life in general.
Gathering his feet, he decided he had to find a way back to his Rangers. There were things yet to do, and he did not want them to waste his time trying to search for him.
He coughed, and swayed a little. He was beginning to believe that if he did not have this body, he would be immortal!
He forced himself along. His mind was wide awake, he really might as well. He walked and walked. At times he would find himself on the ground, though he could not remember stopping, or resting, or falling. But he pushed himself up and pushed himself forward. Such was his nature.
He somehow felt detached from the world, which came in blur of motion. It was like a dream, as if he moved without much thought or caution, stumbling, rising, stumbling, walking… It was long and endless, and he often forgot where it was the he was headed.
It was along this ridiculously pointless road that he heard a woman curse and scream. And he sensed the orcs that surely must have threatened her. Steeling himself for the battle ahead, he picked up his pace and prayed to the gods that he had enough strength to tide himself and the woman over through this storm.
* * *
Estel opened his eyes to find the Mirkwood elf sitting near his leg, just beginning to settle in for sleep. Legolas seemed to notice the man's gaze affixed to his back, and he turned and faced him.
"I'm sorry," Legolas said, his voice melodious, "Did I wake you?"
Estel smiled, shook his head and pushed himself up to his elbows. "You sleep with your eyes open."
"Aye," Legolas said, looking puzzled, wondering where this was possibly headed but smiling back anyways.
"What do you see?" Estel asked.
"Elven dreams can be very beautiful," Legolas told him, "Of wonderful stunning places, and people that we love."
"Much like our dreams," Estel said, "I mean mostly. Don't you think some dreams feel like they never end? You awaken and you land in another dream. And you awaken and land in another. You aren't sure what's real. You are uncertain of what's true. You cease to live, and you just plunge from one dream to another."
"I do not know, mellon," Legolas told him soothingly, noting distress in his eyes, "Sometimes I want to live in my dreams too. When it is exceptionally beautiful, it is so hard to wake. But one must, you see. And if you are lucky, and if you are hardy, perhaps your hands can shape what's real and turn it into a haven that is not only found in the realm of dreaming."
Estel's brows furrowed. "Sometimes I feel like you are trying to tell me more than what your words convey."
Estel looked at Legolas expectantly. As he had nights before, the elf kept his silence.
Estel just smiled, shook his head. "I'm being silly, I know. I'm sorry. It's almost morning. And you've not slept since your watch began last night. I'm sorry for keeping you."
Legolas smiled back, and shrugged. He sank against his mat. But he would find no sleep here today. And he could certainly not find peace, not even in dreaming.
TO BE CONTINUED…
