Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.
Warnings: Angst, torture
Mindless Babble:
As the suns rays flooded through the window, four elves slowly began to wake. None of them had slept well as each of them had made their way back to the human's room. Elrond gazed around the room, noting each of the younger elves curled up in various seats around the large bed that held Estel. He could not suppress a chuckle.
"Well, it appears that we are of a single mind concerning Estel," he said with a smile. "I suggest that we each take turns watching over him."
It was agreed then that the human would wake with a loved one by his side.
It was late on the eve of the fifth day after the four had arrived in Rivendell. Legolas stood at the window staring up at the darkened sky. His friend's condition had not improved at all and the prince of Mirkwood was beginning to lose hope. Only the stars saw the tears of despair trace their way down the delicate features of the elf. The soft moan was nearly missed by his elven hearing.
"Aragorn?"
The man stood alone in a place he had never seen. He carried only a sword. His tired mind noted to his dismay that the blade was an unbroken Narsil. His heart pounded with fear. He did not remember how he got there or why he was so frightened. All he knew for certain was that he was alone.
Then came the orcs. There seemed to be thousands of them. All of them were disfigured and hideous to look upon. The stench of so many made the man retch. They clawed their way to him, brandishing their whips and crude swords. The man fought them off but could not protect himself. By the time he had dispatched the last foul creature, he was bleeding from hundreds of different wounds. As he tried to catch his breath, a whisper reached his ears that made him shiver with terror.
"Ranger, you are ours!"
Nine shadow creatures slipped from the darkness surrounding Aragorn. As one, they un-sheathed their swords and advanced on the human. Strider raised his own blade and readied himself for a fight he knew he could not win. The wraiths surrounded him and simply stood there. The man turned in confusion.
"We do not need to harm you, Ranger. You are already becoming one of us."
Aragorn looked down at his feet, or rather where his feet should have been for they were gone as well as a good portion of his legs. "NO! I will not become like you!"
"Why do you resist, descendent of Isildur?" the Witch King hissed. "You have no one who will miss you when you are gone. The elves have banished you and the humans hate and fear you. You have no one."
The words struck with the pain of a knife. Aragorn fell to the ground in despair, his adopted father's words ringing in his ears. Tears streamed from bloodshot eyes as he remembered…
"Arwen will stay with her people. You cannot take her away from her family! You will live as a human and then you will die. Leave my sight and never darken this home again with your presence!"
"Ada…" Aragorn sobbed, unable to stop the tears.
The Witch King knelt before the human. It reached out and grabbed the man's chin, forcing Aragorn to look up. With its other hand, it gently brushed away a single tear and showed it to the fading human. It was not a droplet of salty water the creature held but a tear of blood.
Aragorn pushed away from the dark thing in horror. He stood and broke free of the ring of wraiths, their piercing screams following him as he ran from them.
He ran for some time until he fell to his now visible knees from exhaustion. He was again alone with only his thought to comfort him, though they did little to cheer him. Lord Elrond's voice still echoed in his head, a knife repeatedly stabbing his heart and soul. The creatures were right; he had no one. Perhaps it would be best if he gave up.
"Aragorn?"
Strider lifted his head to the familiar voice. "Legolas?"
"Please, Strider, fight! Come back to us!" The elf was speaking in the Grey Tongue, fear giving the beautiful language sharpness.
"Mellon-nin," Aragorn whispered.
"Yes, Strider, come back to us!" Legolas sat at the man's side, holding his friend's hand. When watery tears had turned to blood, Legolas had panicked and yelled for Elrond. The elf lord had rushed into the room with the twins right on his heals. They now encircled the bed, watching as their friend called Estel back from the shadows.
Aragorn groaned, his eyelids fluttering before closing them again. "Legolas?"
"I am here, mellon-nin." Legolas gently squeezed the hand held, trying to reassure the Ranger.
"Where am I?" Aragorn whispered his voices raspy from lack of use. He struggled to sit up but found himself too weak.
"You are safe, among friends and family." Legolas tried to answer any question his friend might have without him having to ask them. "It is early morning. The sun is just starting to make its way over the mountains. You have been here for almost five days."
"Morning?" Aragorn asked, confused. He looked up his eyes open wide. "Is that why it is so dark?"
