Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings
Warnings: Angst, torture
Mindless Babble: Aragorn is about 35. The people appearing in this fic are: Aragorn, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond and even a brief appearance by Arwen.
The moon was full that night and its light peeked through the canopy of autumn colored trees. The forest would have been silent but for the three elves that hunted with in it. Three sets of eyes searched the shadows for their missing brother. For two, the missing one was an adopted brother, brought into their house as an infant whose mother was not long for this world. For the third, he was one who had transcended the bonds of friendship, a kindred spirit.
When Estel had sent word that he was passing by Rivendell in a few weeks time, his brothers had been thrilled. They sent a message to his best friend and together they awaited the arrival of their human brother. Three days after he was to meet up with them, the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, joined with Legolas to go searching for him. Today had been the fourth day of their hunt and still no sign of the human. Tomorrow, they would have to report to Lord Elrond.
Three heads lifted simultaneously as a piercing cry cut through the still night air. As if one mind, they took off running in the direction sound had come from. In moments, the three friends stood on a tall rock formation over looking a small clearing. The scene below made their blood run cold. Four creatures, seemingly created from the very folds of darkness, loomed over the defenseless Estel.
All three elves instantly fired arrows at the beings only to flinch when the cry of the things hit their ears. Legolas was the first to recover and leaped gracefully to the ground below, positioning himself between the creatures and his closest friend. He sensed the twins following him seconds later.
"You will do no more harm to this man," Legolas said, the tone in his voice booking no alternative.
The dark things stood their ground for a few moments as if debating whether or not to attack. "The Ranger is ours, Elf!" one of the creatures hissed as the four of them faded into the shadows.
Legolas felt the burning fear that coiled around his heart turn to frozen despair. His chest suddenly constricted as he heard the cry from behind him.
"Estel!" Elrohir screamed his brother's name desperately.
Legolas spun around and felt the blood drain from his already pale features. The younger twin clutched the man's limp hand. His brother was at Estel's head, his fingers searching for a pulse in the man's neck. Relief tainted with worry flooded the elf's dark eyes.
"He lives, but just barely. We need to get him home to my father if he is to have any chance of staying that way!'
"If we travel through the night, each taking turns carrying him, we should reach Rivendell by first light." Legolas said, crouching next to Elladan.
Elladan nodded and Legolas offered to take the first turn. He took off his cloak and gently wrapped the injured Ranger in it. A soft moan of pain Estel's cracked lips.
"I am sorry, my friend. Please bear it just a while longer."
It was actually mid-afternoon when Elrohir burst through the front door Elladan followed close behind, carrying the injured human. Together, they tore up the stairs to Estel's room, where Elrond met them. None of them noticed the last elf as he walked in more sedately. Legolas quietly closed the door and made his way to the family room. There, a warm fire crackled merrily in the hearth. It did nothing to alleviate the icy feelings in his heart. He dropped the armload of weapons, both his and Striders, to the floor as well as his friend's coat. He stood there and watched the flames for a few moments, lost in thought. A cook that had noticed the elf that had arrived without his cloak brought a mug of hot tea and motioned for one of the plush seats that gathered around the fireplace. Legolas gratefully accepted both and curled up in the chair closest to the flames. And there he awaited news of his friend's condition.
Meanwhile, upstairs Elrond was getting his first look at how grievous his adopted son's injuries were. He gasped inwardly as Elladan gently pulled Legolas' cloak from the man's shoulders. He had seen worse on others but never on his own kin. A small whimper tore through the older elf's heart like a knife. He knew the Ranger had an incredibly high tolerance for pain and would often try to hide his wounds. For him to cry out like that, Estel must be in agony.
"Shh, Estel. You are safe now, at home," Elrohir said softly, letting his younger brother lean against him.
"I have …no …home." Estel gasped out. Elrond stiffened slightly. Thankfully, the brothers believed it to be the delirium talking and ignored it.
Elladan left the room and returned shortly with a bowl of water and clean cloths. Together, the twins began to cleanse the wounds of dirt and sweat that covered the man's body, while their father prepared the salve. The twin elves noticed the partially heal cuts, burns and bruises. They both came to the conclusion that their little brother had been held captive longer then either one of them cared to think about.
"Some of these are from orc weapons," breathed Elrohir as he gently laid Estel on his side. "Has he been poisoned, Ada?"
"Most likely," responded Elrond as he crushed some dried herbs in a small, wooden bowl. "I am more worried about the blood loss. Estel should not be so pale or so cool to the touch."
As if in response to the worried elves, Estel took a turn for the worst. Suddenly his body began convulsing as he struggled to draw a breath. His eyes flew open in a panic causing the twins to recoil. When Elrond turned to see what had startled them, he too fell back.
Estel's normally gray eyes were clouded over with white. His pale skin glistened with sweat. As his muscles constricted, Estel screamed. Elrohir and Elladan shuddered as they recognized the near perfect imitation cry of the creatures they had encountered.
"Elrohir, Elladan! Tell me how you found him!" the lord demanded of his sons, leaping forward to try to hold down his youngest son. The twins each seized a flailing arm and a shoulder, forcing their brother to lie still as Elrond examined each of the lesions.
"Last night, we were searching the forest just outside of Rivendell on our way back. We heard this wretched scream and ran to investigate," Elladan started.
"We came upon Estel being attacked by four of these… things. They were robed in black and seemed to be wearing some sort of armor. We shot at them; they screamed…" Elrohir continued.
"They sounded like Estel did just now," interjected the elder twin.
Elrohir nodded. "The arrows didn't do anything to the creatures except to drive them back a few steps."
"One of them spoke saying that the 'Ranger was theirs'. What did he mean, Ada?"
Elrond did not look up at Elladan. He knew his heart could not have handled the pained expressions in his elven sons' eyes. "It spoke the truth. What you and Estel fought were the Nazgul, Ringwraiths. They carry Morgul blades and unless I con find where the blade bit him, I fear we may loose him to the Shadow World."
The twins looked at one another then back to their father. "What does that mean? What is going to happen to him?" Elrohir whispered, the fear in his voice giving it an edge.
"He will become a wraith, like them."
Silently, at their father's command, the twins carefully sat their brother up and leaned him forward. It was now easy to find the cut; the black lines of poison marked it clearly. It was only about two inches long but it was inflamed and bled very little.
Estel decided at that moment to give up. His body suddenly went limp in the arms of his brothers, the battle for air surrendered. Panic and fear flooded three hearts.
Elrond was the first to respond. He checked to see if his youngest son still lived and sighed in mild relief. He stood and rushed to where he had been preparing the salve. He poured a small amount of oil into the bowl and mixed it with the crushed plants. He took a deep breath and turned to his sons.
"I must now do this alone. Please, wait downstairs," he said, his voice sounding of calmness he did not have. In truth, a storm of emotions warred in his heart- fear, worry, sorrow, guilt and anger. He was surprised to feel the last one and he promised to meditate on it later. Much later, after Estel was on the mend. He watch his sons reluctantly leave and sighed. With a whispered prayer to any deity that would listen, he set to work.
