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 FIFTEEN

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      Estel sat upon the house's porch with Cecilia's sheaf of papers sitting beneath a cup of Teresa's tea.  He came out here wanting to remember his part, but not really having the heart to concentrate on the task.  He stared emptily out against the sight of the wind and the rain.

      He felt a measure of regret from a place he did not know, nor wish to know of.  But the feeling was potent, and it would not leave him.  Tiredly, he ran his hands across his face.

      Sari was watching him from the door, before the elf sat beside him with a wistful look on his face.

      Estel turned toward Sari and smiled at him uncertainly.

      ~Isn't this strange, Estel?~ murmured Sari, searching the adan's eyes for comprehension, and finding an earnestly and honestly confused expression there, ~You and I.  Together here.~

      "I'm sorry, Sari," Estel chuckled, "I'm afraid my few days amongst elves did not improve my understanding of your language at all."

      "That's all right," Sari said, looking away from him.  Haldir and Legolas leaving lent a… finality to the entire arrangement.  This house, this life… it all began as a comforting dream.  And now it felt permanent, and sadly not-quite right.

      "It must be sad to see your friends leave," said Estel, wincing, "I'm sorry.  I fear I may have had something to do with it."  He hesitated, "I told Legolas some things.  I suppose it was that I didn't want him around.  In so many words."

      Sari sighed.  "I wouldn't feel particularly bad about it.  They couldn't have stayed anyways.  It was just a matter of time."

      "Still," insisted Estel, "I'm sorry.  He was your friend.  I should have been more accommodating."

      "Actually it is Haldir whom I am more acquainted with," said Sari, "I met Legolas but days ago."

      "I see," murmured Estel, "I suppose he just went with Haldir searching for you."

      "No," said sari, "You've seen his eyes.  That elf, my friend, is one in search of something else altogether."

      Estel's brows furrowed, and he stared at Sari for a long moment.  "You're beginning to speak like him.  In riddles that I think are supposed to tell me something."  He smiled uncertainly, "Or is it just a trait of the elves? Haldir, he doesn't speak this way, though."

      "Well he's a race of his own," said Sari wryly.

      Estel took a deep breath, sighed.  "Maybe it's this weather.  It's making me melancholy."

      "Perhaps it is because you've made them your friends too," Sari pointed out.

      "I suppose," Estel conceded.

      They fell silent for awhile, and it was only broken by the thundering of horse hooves in the near distance.

      "Riders are coming," Sari warned Estel, as the two raised themselves up from the ground and readied their weapons.  It couldn't be orcs upon horses, naturally.  But the hooves raced with such great speed that it spoke volumes of urgency.

      "No..." Sari whispered, his sharper eyes catching the sight of Legolas' and Haldir's horses as they emerged from the woods.  He shot forward into the rain, with Estel hard at his heels.

      Sari reached for the reins and tried to calm the horses down, patting their slick flanks.  They were unharmed, but clearly agitated.  And the thick black blood of the orcs stained their flesh here and there.  Their masters were nowhere in sight.

      Behind them, the other members of the house must have heard of the commotion and streamed out into the porch.

      "Are they back, are they back?" the children asked excitedly.

      "Haldir!" Sari called out towards the forest, "Legolas!"

      "Haldir!" Estel screamed with him, "Legolas!"

      They were met with no replies.  Sari's eyes met Estel's equally devastated ones.

      Damien and Biggles shot forward from the porch, venturing out into the hard rain and running towards Estel and Sari.

      "Where are they?" Biggles asked.

      "We know not," said Sari.

      Estel threw himself up the horse, eager to be taken to where their friends may have fallen.  But Sari grabbed for his reins before he could take a good hold of them.

      ~Think first,~ Sari retorted, unwittingly in Elvish.  And strangely, Estel unwittingly understood.  None of the pair of them noticed, but Damien certainly did and he ran away from the group to do something he felt merited the occasion…

      "Inside the house, inside the house!" they heard Cecilia ordering to the children, who complied grudgingly and slowly filed back, with Teresa ushering them.

      Cecilia stood at the porch of her house, watching the events unfold with calculating eyes.  She had the face of a woman who was sternly watching her kingdom crumble, but remained resolutely disbelieving and prideful. 

      "We may be running out of time," Estel urged, starting to become as agitated as Legolas' horse, the one he was riding, "We may already be out of time for all that we know!"

      "Two elves apparently felled by what must be either a numerous or particularly skilled orc contingent," Sari pointed out, "You are not going out there with half a memory and a rusted pitchfork!"

      "I can remedy the latter," Damien said, jogging from the stables and bearing a long, slim burden wrapped in battered wool.  He removed the cloth and revealed a long, sleek, sheathed sword.  It was a weapon that seemed to emanate strength and power, and one that was just all too familiar to Estel.

      Damien returned it to its rightful owner, who took it reverently, as if it's barest touch would either burn him or bless him, scorn him or save him.

      Damien took a step back from the man as he removed the sword from its sheath.  It glinted and shone even in the dark of the day.

      "This was mine," he said softly, not asking, simply just knowing.

      "We found it with you," Damien said apologetically, glancing up at Cecilia, who was on the porch and looking at him coldly, as if she has been betrayed, "And when you could not remember who you were, we thought you could be with us instead, and kept it.  And kept all your old clothes.  And kept… And kept… you from your own self.  You are Dalsegno to us.  You needed no reminding of a life your mind fled.  You were our protector.  Our son.  Our brother.  But we can steal you no more from your fate.  And we can steal from you no more, of who you are."

      Estel's eyes shot up to Cecilia, whose turbulent eyes were staring back at his, wishing to be cold, wishing to be shameless.  But he found in their deepest depths, her guilt.

      "It is nothing I did not take from myself," Estel murmured to Damien, "When I return, we will speak more of this."

      Sari boarded Haldir's horse, "Protect the house," he said to Damien and Biggles.

      "Protect yourselves," Biggles told them softly, as they spurred their horses forward towards the forests.

      Damien raised his head up proudly as he faced Cecilia and walked toward her. 

      "Do not apologize," she said sternly, her lips stiff.

      "I… I wasn't going to," he admitted.

      "I meant," she said, "Not that it would not be forgiven.  But that… you needn't."

      Damien stepped out of the rain and into the porch, brows furrowed in thought.

      "You had the courage to do what I could not," she told him softly.

* * *

      "I know that elf," one of the orcs said, pointing at Legolas, "He was one of those who attacked us the other night."

      "Are you sure?" his comrade asked him skeptically, "Blasted elves all look alike to me."

      "No it's him," insisted the orc, stepping forward in front of Legolas, asking, "He would know! He would, wouldn't he? Elf! Where are the corpses?"

      Legolas glanced at the orc blandly, and turned to Haldir, who was slung over the shoulder of one of the burlier orcs.  He wondered if he should even bother to cooperate.  Haldir was limp and unmoving.  Not to mention being profoundly unfair, thought Legolas, leaving him to handle the situation. 

      Then again, he was being ridiculously irritated.  It was always easier to feel irrational spite, Legolas figured, than to fear for the other's safety, than to wonder if he was even still alive at all…

      "Where are the corpses!" the orc asked him again, his arm raising to backhand the elf across the face.

      It was not an indignity Legolas was willing to suffer, and he ducked it cleanly, causing the orc to nearly lose his balance and sputter in frustration.

      The orc behind Legolas kicked at his back to subdue him, and he landed on his hands and knees from the impact.

      "Where are the corpses?" the orc- interrogator  insisted, and his comrades converged around them, wanting to find out the same thing, "The man and the woman.  Where are the corpses."

      Legolas looked up at him defiantly, his eyes burning, "You've taken their lives and now you seek to defile them even in death."

      "They brought it upon themselves," seethed the orc, "They have something of ours.  Our key! Our key!  Tell us where the corpses are!"

      "I will not," Legolas retorted, even as he wondered, what key?

      This time, the backhand did land where it was meant to, slapping Legolas across his face, making his head whip most painfully to the side.  The orcs pushed the unconscious Haldir to his knees and held him for Legolas to see.  They grabbed him by the hair, once again exposing the tender flesh of his pale neck.

      Legolas' breath caught.  His warrior's heart ached to fight.  And his mind pressed him to, knowing that if he didn't, he and Haldir were dead anyway.  But the part of him that was a friend to the Lothlorien elf absolutely will not see him slain.  Perhaps he just needed the opportune moment to act.  Perhaps, if he could keep them both alive long enough by cooperating, Haldir would awaken and they would eventually be able to fight their way out.

      "Kill him," the orc questioning Legolas ordered, motioning for Haldir.

      "No!" Legolas said quickly, "Wait."

      The orc turned to him, "Where are the corpses?"

      I'm sorry, Legolas thought up to the pair of souls, I must do this.  You are already dead.  But we still stand a chance.

      "I will take you to where we laid them to rest," Legolas said softly.

TO BE CONTINUED…