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 EIGHTEEN
* * *
"You grew up with Lord Elrond's family," Legolas said, smiling, "Have you met the lovely Evenstar?"
Estel pursed his lips. "I have."
"I've seen her but a few times," said Legolas, "Impeccable, isn't she? Downright magical."
"Stunning," sighed Estel.
Legolas turned towards him, eyes growing wide, and grinning at the sight of the man's red face, even in the heart of winter. "Ha! Oh, you do reach for the stars, mellon. Estel indeed!"
"Is it so unlikely?" snapped Estel, slightly offended.
"Oh, you are fairly good looking," Legolas teased.
Estel's lips quirked, but kept himself from smiling back. The elf was already profoundly pleased with himself enough for finding his sore spot.
"Your eyes are smiling," Legolas pointed out, "It is useless for you to pretend to be displeased with me."
* * *
Estel stepped forward, towards Haldir and Legolas. And he took another, and another. Each one encouraged the next, it seemed, and the narrowing distance only mirrored his strengthening resolve.
* * *
"Steel yourself, Estel," said Legolas, drawing his bow, "Orcs."
"How many?" Estel murmured, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Let's say there are enough of them to actually have a chance against you and I," said Legolas lightly, though Estel read from his eyes that he knew the situation was fairly dangerous and lethal indeed.
"Fight or flee?" asked Estel.
"No more fleeing," said Legolas gravely, "Did you not say I must head places now, instead of just running away from them? Well. These orcs are in my way."
"I did not tell you to kill yourself, Legolas," muttered Estel, "If reason says we must flee now and fight this another day…"
"We can take them," said Legolas determinedly, "No more running. But I cannot ask you to stay with me."
Estel sighed. "You needn't."
* * *
That was a pair of years ago. He remembered now. And the more he remembered, the more he hurt. Not just for himself, in knowing what it was he had lost, but he hurt for Legolas, for the lively elf in his remembrances was a far cry from the one that Haldir held in his arms, unmoving, and bleeding, and dying.
* * *
"Dare I stare at the past once again?" Legolas asked him.
"Take it before it takes you," Estel said wistfully.
* * *
Curious, how it seemed that their roles have reversed. But if Legolas can find the courage, then Estel knew that so could he.
He fell to his knees in front of Haldir and Legolas, and though his hands shook, it seemed as if they knew just where to go. He felt Haldir's and Sari's eyes resting intently upon his face. It seemed that the Lothlorien elf who summoned him back was suddenly unsure, though undoubtedly desperately hopeful.
He looked up and met Haldir's eyes.
~I've done this before,~ Estel murmured to the elf reassuringly.
Haldir, with brows furrowed, nodded. There was something undeniably changed about Estel's demeanor. His eyes were lonelier, and it suddenly seemed as if his shoulders were bearing a greater weight.
He knew then, that Estel had returned to them at last. He also knew what it cost the adan. It cost him that ridiculous life in that ridiculous orphan house. It cost him the Bree-folk Company of Actors and the blasted elven carrot-ears. It cost him the light heart of Dalsegno.
In a way, it cost him a life.
* * *
Haldir found himself seated upon the kitchen table again, although this time, it was Sari who was binding his wounds. It was late in the afternoon, and the rain ceased at last, lending enough time for the sun to be visible for a little while, just before it set for the evening.
Teresa stepped into the room and smiled at them politely. She was being trailed around by the little boy they rescued nights ago. He had a shy smile, and he still refused to talk, but he was openly affectionate with her, and moved about as if he were her shadow. Unlike all the other children, he was not threatened by the kitchen and the chores it represented at all, and Teresa handed him a small stack of plates and told him to ready the dining table. He scurried away, throwing her a smile before he left.
Sari watched, and smiled at her as well. "You have a way with him, Teresa."
Her cheeks flushed.
So did his.
Haldir wanted the world to open up and swallow him whole.
"Are you well?" Teresa asked him, peering over Sari's work.
"Yes," Haldir replied.
"I worry for Legolas," she said uneasily, "He seemed so kind. It was sad when he left. And now he is back but I peered into the room, and Dalsegno just finished tending to him, and… and… well, if you do not mind my saying so… that is…"
"He looks like he's at death's door," Haldir said wryly, freeing her from her wordless misery, "I wouldn't worry for him, Teresa. It all looks grave but he will survive. The mischievous ones always do."
Sari tightened the bandages about Haldir's arm a little too much, making the other elf wince. Haldir glared at him in irritation, as if saying, point taken. But Sari blinked up at him in feigned innocence.
"Haldir is not so callous as he seems," Sari said, teasing, "Why he was near tears earlier today. I wonder how you looked when you thought I was dead and gone."
"I had a lager and a rather enjoyable time," lied Haldir flatly.
"Was it orcs that hurt you too?" Teresa asked Sari, pretending to busy herself with wiping at cups and glasses.
"I was a slave to them for several hundred years," Sari replied.
"I see."
Haldir bit his lip, desperately wanting to leave, but Sari's work on his wounds kept him rooted in place, and he felt dreadfully intrusive.
"I've become all the things I did not wish to be," Sari added, watching her face carefully, searching for acceptance, searching for rejection, searching for any kind of answer. It was ridiculous; his mind knew his capture was not his fault, and not a discredit to who he was. But his years of hardship taught him things he did not know of himself, of how low a soul could sink, of how desperate one can be. He emerged stronger, yes, but no less scarred, no less tainted.
"Well," she said, "It's not where we come from, I always say. It's where we are."
He smiled at her, and turned his attention back to Haldir's arm.
"Biggles said
you folk were talking about us all leaving," Teresa said after a moment, "Is
this true?""
"Yes," replied Haldir,
"The orcs that Legolas and
I came upon were searching for the grave of the boy's parents. Looking for a key of some
kind."
Teresa's brows furrowed. "A key?"
"Yes," said Haldir plainly, "We know naught else of how it looks, or where it leads. But we fear orcs scouring the forests nearby may inevitably lead them to this house. A might of them against a few of us, with Legolas and I temporarily incapacitated, and a houseful of children to protect… it will be nothing short of a massacre."
Teresa bit his lip. She drew a chain from beneath her neck, and showed it to Sari and Haldir. "This key?"
Haldir's eyes widened, and he used his free hand to touch it. It sparkled and shone in a distinctly brilliant way. "This is mithril."
"The boy," said Teresa shakily, "He gave it to me. I suppose it must have belonged to his mother. This is what they want?"
"When they find those corpses," said Sari tersely, "And see that the key is not with them, they will inevitably hunt for the boy. We must flee from here."
"But where will we go?" Teresa asked, fingering the necklace nervously. What could be so important about a little key?
"Perhaps to Bree," said Haldir, "Somewhere nearer to the other towns. At the soonest possible time. Tomorrow morn, if it can be done."
Sari finished binding Haldir's wound, and stepped back to survey it critically. "I will speak with Cecilia. But can Legolas travel so soon?"
"He will if he must," Haldir replied.
* * *
Athelas.
It was the first thing that sprang to his mind when he breathed and realized he still lived, and that in breathing there was the scent of the healing herbs that seemed to pepper all his adventures with Estel.
Estel!
His eyes snapped open, and he realized he was warm, in bed, aching, yes, but for the moment, safe. Moonlight drifted in from the windows to dully light the room. He knew he was back in the orphan house, though this was a room he did not recognize; he was on a bed, instead of a mat. He cringed inwardly and concluded they must have settled him upon Cecilia's or Teresa's bed. Had he been awake then, he would have told them it was rude to take the space from the old woman.
On a chair to his right, Haldir was watching his face with a little, welcoming smile.
Legolas opened his mouth to say something, but Haldir put a finger to his own lips, wordlessly telling Legolas to keep quiet, and nodded pointedly to the Mirkwood elf's other side.
There, he found Estel's dark head resting near his hand. The adan was sleeping on his folded forearms in a most uncomfortable looking manner, with a blanket over his shoulders. Legolas' eyes watered, at the sight that was bittersweet.
~If you really must speak,~ whispered Haldir, ~Keep your voice down. He needs his rest. He has come a long way… If you get my meaning.~
Legolas turned away from Estel, and stared at Haldir. The moonlight made his eyes glisten, magnifying the tears that were there. He closed them to keep the tears from falling, and took a shaky breath. He hurt, both in body and in soul.
Trembling and weak from his injury, Legolas took a moment to gather his strength, before he took a deep breath and said, ~So he has made his way back to us.~
~Yes,~ replied Haldir, ~He saw to your hurts. He found his healer's hands. But these could not be divorced from the entirety of his caring, and he remembers all, now.~
Legolas closed his eyes again, dismayed. And so it was still he who brought Estel's grief back to him. He left already. Estel made his choice to escape. Legolas made the choice to let him. Life was slightly more complicated all around, but when wasn't it? All was sorted, in its own distorted way. They made their own paths, and now fate has taken the reins again, and pushed them some other way.
~Life and fate are truly horrid,~ he said softly, shakily, ~They pretend to furnish you choices, just to see how much you would give. And then they took all choice away from you anyway.~
~I think it's comforting,~ Haldir told him soothingly, ~We can never truly make monumental mistakes, for life would inevitably right itself.~
Legolas cleared his throat, ~I suppose.~
~Do you know he gave this life for you?" Haldir asked him.
~Yes,~ replied Legolas.
~He is worthy of your friendship,~ affirmed Haldir, ~And of the love of the Evenstar, and of the deeds that precede him.~
~I never doubted,~ Legolas said softly.
Haldir smiled, chuckled a little. ~What is funny here is that fate still refuses to be kind to him. Do you know he has not left this room at all since we returned here? He said he wanted to be here when you woke. He fell asleep but minutes ago, and I took over, and you wake up on my shift. He will not be pleased with you at all.~
Legolas lips quirked. But his eyelids fluttered, and sleep was quickly reclaiming him, until he remembered why he was there in the first place.
~You've told them about the orcs and the key?~ he murmured.
~Do not worry about it,~ Haldir told him, ~Sleep well, mellon. Regain your strength. We will all leave the moment the sun shines.~
* * *
He next woke up to the rising of the sun, and to Estel's smiling face, which shone much brighter.
~Welcome back,~ he said to Legolas, almost shyly.
~I should be the one telling you so,~ he said to Estel.
~Will you eat?~ Estel asked him, showing him a small piece of bread, ~For the road ahead?~
Legolas closed his eyes, licked at his dry lips and shook his head. His chest throbbed, and the pain was making him breathless and nauseous. Estel's brows furrowed in concern, and he gripped Legolas' forearm tightly, willing to be looked upon.
~We can leave tomorrow,~ Estel said quickly, ~We needn't rush. Or perhaps the others can go ahead, if you are still not ready.~
Legolas placated him with a careless wave of his hand, ~I just need a moment. We cannot stay. You know this as well as I.~
~Haldir is preparing with the rest of the group,~ said Estel, ~The road is not so long, we will reach Bree before noon, at a comfortable pace, with some of us on foot. The sun is high in the sky, the rain clouds have passed. It will be safe, and quick. And at the end of this road I promise you a bed and as much rest as you could possibly desire.~
~You had better,~ Legolas said wryly, ~But I am going to need your help rising first.~
~Yes, of course!~ Estel exclaimed, sitting next to Legolas on the bed, and supporting his back and shoulders as he sat up. The movement was making his heart race, and his wound protest. But he grit his teeth through it, and caught his breath as Estel steadied him.
~You seem so nervous,~ Legolas pointed out, panting, to his great dismay. He wondered how in all of Arda he was ever going to get on his feet!
~I'm not,~ Estel lied, but Legolas was looking at him knowingly, and there was no winning over his clever eyes, ~I don't know. I'm sorry. I wondered, if perhaps, you would be mad at me.~
~That's preposterous,~ Legolas assured him.
~I sent you away,~ Estel said plainly, ~It is my fault you got hurt.~
~Then it might as well be your fault that you were attacked and lost your memories,~ Legolas pointed out, ~You really are conceited, Estel. The world does not revolve around your actions.~
Estel raised an eyebrow at him cockily. ~Oh they don't, do they? I'm rather disappointed.~
Legolas chuckled at him. It was good to have Estel back. And yet all at once his heart was burdened by the fact that he cost Estel the happiness that he found here.
~Estel--~ he was about to say, when Haldir stepped into the room, effectively cutting him off.
~It's time to leave,~ the March warden declared, stepping forward towards Legolas and Estel to assist. The attention was embarrassing Legolas, and all at once he knew it was necessary. He wished he could be angry, but he understood the situation and he could hardly find the heart or strength to argue. He cringed inwardly at the thought of everyone in the house spying his weakness.
Estel read his face and looked at him knowingly, ~None of that now, Legolas. You cannot afford the steep price of your pride.~
~Ha,~ he said tiredly, as he slowly swung his legs over the bed, letting his feet touch the ground. He glanced down at them miserably. He needed his shoes. He glanced around to look for them, and found Estel already bearing them. He bit his lip and suffered the embarrassment of getting helped into his clothes.
~Thank you,~ he murmured to his friends, looking up at them gratefully.
Estel gave him a thin smile, as his eyes roved over the ailing elf's pale face. His body was trembling with his pain, and he looked drawn and tired, with a glassy stare that was very much unlike his usually intent, focused look. It was not just his concern for his friend that made him hesitate to take him along in this journey so soon, but also the healer in him felt Legolas was not given time enough to recover. But it was the warrior in him who prevailed, because it was how he knew to keep them alive.
Estel took one of his arms and Haldir the other, putting them over their shoulders. The movement made his wound throb all the harder, and he winced as they lifted him up to his feet. The world was spinning insistently all around him. The pain was winning over him, darkening his vision. He could not seem to catch a decent breath.
~He should not be doing this,~ Estel muttered to Haldir over Legolas' head, which was lolling about, struggling to stay upright. His body was tensed, and his quaking knees buckled beneath him as he released a harsh coughing spell that refused to leave him.
Muttering a curse, Estel caught him cleanly before he took them all to the ground, and put his arms beneath Legolas' knees and his back, carrying him as Haldir relinquished his hold.
The Mirkwood elf was barely clinging to consciousness as the coughing ceased, and one of his hands drifted to cling desperately at his tunic, right over his chest, as if he was fighting the pain by suppressing it.
Haldir's limp was becoming more pronounced by the moment, as he strode toward the bed and gathered the blankets he felt they would inevitably need. His own injury was healing, but his constant moving was doing it no good at all, and the near-fall of Legolas and his instinctive, too-quick movement of trying to regain his balance only reminded him not to be too harsh to his own body.
Estel, who was standing by the door, watched him carefully, but said nothing, for it seemed the Lothlorien elf was well-aware of his own situation, and was making the necessary, more-careful movements.
Haldir looked up at him, smiled wryly as he took in Legolas in Estel's arms, subdued in his tamer semi-consciousness. ~You should have drugged him instead, from the first moment. It makes him infinitely easier to have to deal with, placated like this.~
~You know, Haldir,~ Estel laughed, ~He must have heard that. And though he cannot give you a decent barb at the moment, I guarantee you he will remember it.~
* * *
At the head of the line was Sari, alert and atop a horse. Cecilia's cart, manned by Damien and overloaded with the younger children, followed right behind. Teresa and Biggles were traveling on foot with the older of the children at the center, where Haldir and Legolas traveled, sharing a steed. Estel held the rear. It made for a rather loose circle of protectors, but the sun was high up in the sky, and they did not expect any trouble.
Still, the children were no strangers to danger, and held a very disciplined line as they walked toward Bree. The presence of an injured Legolas was enough to remind them of the perils of the situation, and though they spoke softly of lighter things and seemed to have strong, stout hearts, they would glance at the elf once in awhile, and kept themselves wary.
Estel watched the entire play of it, from his position at the back of the troupe. He was riding Legolas' horse, for the injured elf was riding with Haldir, who had a secure hold on the prince, with his proud riding stance hampered little by his burden and his own injuries.
Legolas' golden head rested against the Lothlorien elf's shoulder, and Estel watched with some irrational measure of jealousy.
That was his job!, he thought, even as he knew that there was greater benefit in that, uninjured as he was, he would be more useful in case of a battle than Haldir and needed both his arms free, which was why it was decided that the Lothlorien elf would be the one to aid Legolas and not him.
Still… the more irrational part of him argued.
He shook his head, though it was the feeling that he wished he could shake off instead. It was truly ridiculous. Perhaps now, instead of forgetfulness, he is addled with madness instead. Suddenly he's in a mad dash to reclaim that which he scorned just days ago? But Legolas, in all fairness, was one of the few truly, purely good things about that other life. His friend. His brother. And Estel felt he had every right to reclaim him as much as he reclaimed the more dire aspects of who he was.
Earlier this morning, Legolas quickly appeased Estel's fears of the elf being mad at him. While it eased his mind some, he had seen Legolas' pain, and he knew he inflicted it. That he could not forget, or let go of so easily, even if Legolas could.
He sighed, turning his attention elsewhere. He still has not spoken at length with Cecilia, though from the lost but understanding way she looked at him, he knew for a certainty that she knew he has regained his memories. She was stern and prideful and will not plainly speak of the things that hurt her. But she will let him go, he knew, and though it was necessary, it was a parting he did not wish to make. Then there was going home, back to Rivendell… He heard they all thought he was dead. There, Arwen would be. And his brothers. And his ada. In the meantime, here Sari was to deal with too. He did not wish to leave, he did not wish to go to where he must, and yet he cannot stay, and he cannot escape. Life was cruel!
Were things always this complicated? Relationships, love, friends, families, responsibilities, orcs? No wonder he wanted to forget… it was all very confusing, even if he supposedly had all his faculties intact once again.
In the midst of his thoughts, he noticed that Haldir slowed the pace of his horse, as Legolas stirred. When they stopped altogether, Estel raised his voice and told the group to keep moving, as he broke the line and stopped beside Legolas and Haldir.
~What's wrong?~ he asked at once, looking at Legolas' pallid face. He was awake, but disoriented and clearly pained, his brows knit and his hand once again clutching at his chest, breathing laboriously.
~It's all right,~ Legolas replied, looking up at Estel.
~He just needs a moment,~ Haldir said, though he looked rather uncertain himself.
Frowning, Estel took Legolas' hand from his chest and laid it down. He pulled at the blanket that Haldir had draped over the elf earlier in the day, determined to check the wound.
~Don't be a menace now,~ Legolas scolded him, grabbing the adan's hands with his cold ones, ~It does not bleed again, I promise. It's the Valar's honest truth. As Haldir said. I need just a moment.~
His frown deepening, Estel nevertheless re-fixed the blanket that was draped over Legolas' shoulders, taking the elf's word. ~Well I think that is a vast understatement.~
Legolas found heart enough to chuckle, but because it hurt, he groaned and told Estel not to make him laugh.
Estel was not nearly as lighthearted. "We're near, mellon," he said to Legolas reassuringly, though Estel looked to Haldir and the two shared a worried expression.
~Calm down, you pair of fools,~ sighed Legolas, ~I did not come this far just to die here. You know I hate wasting my time.~
Estel chuckled. ~You are a handful.~
He lingered by them a little longer, before he re-took his place at the tail of the traveling group. It seemed difficult to wrest himself away. He was quickly realizing that no matter where he went, and no matter what happened, as long as he was with friends, he was home.
TO BE CONTINUED…
