The Pool
The cave was cluttered with the detritus of orc. It was obvious that this had been their stronghold not too long ago. Rusted spits and dented pots littered the corners of the cave. Pitted iron spikes and rusty nicked blades spilled out in ragged heaps here and there on the ground. Elrohir kicked a battered cup out of his way as the three elves went deeper into the cavern. Elladan looked up at the low ceiling that hung over them. It felt ominous, the entire place felt ominous. It reeked with the musty stench of wet fur, rotted food and body wastes. They were such filthy creatures. It made him burn to think of the prince of Mirkwood in the hands of such a being.
They had reached a sort of platform now, for the cave floor had risen slowly but steadily as they walked. Veren stopped looking forward as the main passage way branched into two tunnels.
"Elladan and Elrohir you take the left. I'll go right."
"We should not divide our forces Lord Veren."
"Ordinarily I would agree with you Elrohir, but my heart tells me that time grows short for young Legolas. This way if one of the tunnels is blocked we still have a chance of finding him without wasting time backtracking."
"Valar watch over you." Elladan touched his fingers to his forehead briefly followed by Elrohir. Veren returned the farewell with a nod, turned and disappeared into the dark tunnel. The twins looked at each other for a moment and then squaring their shoulders turned to follow their own path.
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Unlike most elves, Veren did not find the darkness of caves unpleasant. Before deciding to stay on at Rivendell he had lived a life free of loyalties to any one House. He had mingled freely with dwarves and men. He had even been to the lands of the little Halflings. His father and brothers had fought at the Last Alliance and though he had been there to witness the evil of Sauron unleashed, he had been too young to fight. One by one they had died and Veren's heart had glowed with anger and then paled with grief. When his brother, the last of their house had been brought into the camp dying, Veren had felt his heart break. As the last breath left Uule's body, Veren, little more than an elfling had fled.
He had lost himself in the mountain ranges living off berries, nuts and whatever game he could catch. Those long years had honed him into a skilled tracker and a deadly killer. He would have lived out the endless millennia that way if it had not been for the twins.
He had come across them while hunting deer. They had been caught like game themselves by slavering orcs with hunting wargs. One of them, he never remembered which, was lying too still on the earth a black orc arrow protruding from his chest. The other armed with a long sword stood hunched defensively over the fallen body. As Veren looked he could see blood streaming down the lone elf's shaking arms.
He felt his blood boil. If there was one thing he hated in the world it was these evil creatures. With a cry like a demented wolf he had descended upon the orcs like black death. Caught unawares the orc horde had tried to subdue him by superior force, but Veren had spent three thousand years perfecting the art of killing orcs. Despatching the wargs first with his double swords he began decapitating the orcs by the bushel. The orcs, cowards by nature unless sure of success, fled in the face of this crazed elf who fought with dreadful abandon like a dark god.
He had carried the badly wounded twins to Rivendell, one in his arms and one tied to his back for that was the only word the one still standing said before he passed out. He would never forget that nightmare journey. It had taken five days of walking with no food, no water and no rest. When he had at last staggered into the courtyard, he remembered the shocked silence that lasted all of one heartbeat before a wave of noise hit him like a hammer. He remembered the venerable Lord Elrond rushing forward the look on his face terrible to see. Disbelief, deep anguish and incredible joy. Then Veren had quietly passed out.
From the moment he had awoken Elrond had been there caring for him like one of his own. Having missed the touch and sight of his own kind for so long Veren had decided to stay.
Now he walked like a ghost down the tunnel that had flattened out and started to descend. He could see along the pathway, evidence that this tunnel had been a main thoroughfare of the orcs. He hoped it would lead him to the young elf Legolas and the foul creature that kept him prisoner.
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Garuk held the sweat slicked muttering elf in his arms like a babe. The elf's golden head lolled against the orc's shoulders, while his long legs and arms dangled forlornly in mid air as the orc walked. He was making his way down from the high passage to the deep pool that lay more or less in the middle of the tunnel maze. He reasoned that the only way to save the elf was to break the raging fever. He believed that the pool's icy waters would do the trick.
In truth he was disgusted with himself. Why, why save this miserable elf's life? He should have killed him years ago, left him to rot in the blasted cage, begging for death. But even as he thought it he knew he could never do so. He looked down at the beautiful face. Even now twisted in pain and ravaged by torment the elf was beautiful. Hadn't he been trained to kill such things? All living things, all things of light. Was that not his purpose in life to kill?
Garuk stopped as his inner turmoil became unbearable.
"Why don't I kill you? He said aloud. He squeezed down on the elf's arm and leg chuckling as he squirmed and moaned in pain. He started walking again. Yes, he would drop the confounded elf into the freezing waters of the crystal pool, let him drown. The cold stone walls echoed with his raucous laughter.
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"Valar." Groaned Elrohir in disbelief. Moments before they had emerged from the tunnel into a narrow space, only to be greeted with the sight of two dark openings.
"Which way shall we go?" enquired Elladan not liking the look of either tunnel.
"You left me right."
"What! Surely you jest?"
"Lada, you heard what Veren said, we must be quick. The only way is if we search each passage at the same time.
"NO." Elladan shook his head vehemently.
"Surely you are not afraid brother." Elrohir said with a grin.
"Aren't you?" countered Elladan.
"Terrified, but it must be done."
Elladan held his brother's shoulder briefly a worried frown on his face.
"Don't worry, if I get into trouble I shall scream, very loudly."
Both elves grinned and briefly clasped hands. Then they disappeared into the two tunnels.
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She ambled along slowly, footsore and hungry from her long trek into the mountains. At first she had exulted in her freedom, but as the days passed she found she missed the company of her masters. Besides, she reasoned food was much easier found with her masters than alone. Hunting was tiresome and fresh meat hard to come by.
She blinked rapidly as she entered the cave. Her small eyes took some time to adjust to the gloom. She nosed about tossing about scraps of cloth and old bones. Where were her masters? The cave seemed cold, almost unfriendly. Surely one of them must be near. She searched sniffing the ground, hoping to catch their scent.
Suddenly she stopped, the hackles on her neck rising with sudden fear. She smelt glowing beast, the ones who threw hurting sticks at her all the time. She snarled scraping the rocks with her sharp claws. Yes definitely the scent of glowing beasts. With her nose to the ground she followed the scent, disappearing into the long dark tunnel.
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Veren knew he was nearing journey's end. As he walked the air had grown cooler and the sides of the tunnel moist with droplets of water. His black clothing was soaked and his hair clung to his skull, so high was the humidity in the tunnel. He slowed his pace as the tunnel bent sharply to the left.
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Elladan gave a loud umpf as he ran smack into a stone wall. Holding onto his nose he reached up with one hand feeling along the solid granite. This tunnel went no further. He sighed wearily. Now he would have to retrace his steps and join up with Elrohir. He let go of his sore nose and holding onto the wall closest to him began the long walk back to the tunnel entrance.
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Elrohir's pace quickened as faint light penetrated the darkness. The path had risen steeply and he had been hard pressed to keep to his feet as unseen rocks littered the tunnel floor. Now there was hope that soon he would emerge into an area a little less 'close'. As the light grew brighter he ran all the way to the end.
"Oh no!" he cried stopping abruptly. He had reached the end of the tunnel, but he could not pass. The mouth of the opening was no bigger than an elf's head. There was no way he could fit through there. Even so he knelt and stuck his head through the hole and gasped in delight. He was looking down upon a huge cavern lit by the sun's rays. There must be a crack somewhere high up in the cave's ceiling. As he stared the sunlight caught on the black waters of a large pool in the middle of the cave floor. He realised he must be at least the height of a mumakil or two above the cavern floor. He would have to go back. He wondered if Elladan had had better luck.
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Legolas cried out as the spider like man bit down hard on his arm once again. He felt the poison race through his blood adding heat to his already hot body.
"Please, please, let me go." He begged.
"Please, I would go home, I would see the trees again, please release me." He bowed low over his hurting arm until his forehead touched the cool earth. He cried unashamedly, his pride lost, his dignity but a memory. He no longer knew himself. All he knew was pain and torment and the cruel laughter of the evil creature that held him prisoner.
Two bony fingers under his chin tipped his head up angrily and he was forced to stare into glowing red eyes.
"I will never let you go." The thing said slowly. "You are mine forever and every single day that passes will be worse than the last. I will see you beat your breast in sorrow and claw your eyes in madness and still I will not let release you, for your tears are my life blood and your screams my joy." So saying, he thrust Legolas from him and the elf fell as though through the earth and into the sky and in his ears beat the sound of his own heart, then utter silence.
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The orc stood at the water's edge staring down into its inky depths. The elf had gone still in his arms moments ago and he had lost all thought for a long moment. There was still a slight rise and fall of the elf's chest indicating that he lived, yet Garuk hesitated. What should he do? Should he leave the elf to die or save his life… With a scream of rage he threw Legolas from him into the still waters of the pool. Let him drown!
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Veren stepped out of the tunnel and wondered at the splendid magnificence of the place. The tunnel spilled out into a large airy cavern that was lit by streaky beams of sun. Huge stone formations glittered in the light. A sudden sound of rage behind him caused him to whirl immediately dropping to a defensive crouch.
What he saw made his heart stop. As he looked he saw Legolas thrown by the orc, arc in the air briefly then plummet into a pool of black water. The surface of the water rippled and then stilled. Legolas did not rise to the surface.
"Aiiiiii!" Veren's enraged cry startled Garuk who turned from the pool's edge with a snarl. He saw an tall lissom elf clothed all in black with two silver swords drawn. The elf's hair was midnight black and his green eyes glittered with an intense hate.
"Dhagathon le assen!" the elf hissed between clenched teeth as he ran at Garuk, death written in his eyes.
The orc, feeling fear clutch at his heart, backed away pulling at his short dagger in defence. Accursed elves! He thought.
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Elrohir had begun the think that the tunnel had doubled in length just to spite him when he heard a sound from ahead that sent chills up his spine. A low growl emanated in the darkness and a soft menacing shuffling and snorting came from up ahead. If he had been uncertain, the overpowering stink of warg hit him like an anvil. He stopped, his mouth gone dry with fear. There was no where to hide and no where to rum. The tunnel was too narrow to manoeuvre his sword and arrows would be of little help, for if he did not kill the beast with the first shot, it would be over.
Time had just run out. The darkness suddenly got a lot heavier as the beast caught up with her prey. Her eyes glinted wickedly as she spied the glowing creature standing still as stone in the middle of the passage way. Elrohir slowly drew his sword and as he did he felt rather than saw the warg tense just before she leapt. With the grace and speed born of years of training, he went down on one knee the other leg splayed. He thrust his sword double handed above his head as the beast descended upon him like a cloak of darkness.
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Legolas fell through air and silence and then into freezing cold. The cold robbed him of feeling and stopped him from drawing breath. She wrapped around his naked form like an old lover and welcomed him into her arms. Sleep, she seemed to say, sleep and I will keep you safe. Sleep and all the troubles of the world will disappear and you will be at peace forever. She spoke words of love to him and words of solace and Legolas gave into her words and opened his arms to embrace her.
But as his hands reached for hers there came a voice, familiar and yet not, in this womb of coldness.
"Open your eyes, open your eyes Legolas."
Legolas shook his head. He wanted it to be over.
"Open your eyes and see me Greenleaf!" commanded the voice.
Legolas' eyes sprang open, his eyes searching. There, just there, was the man. He was clothed all in white and his serene face looked at him with true love.
"Do not give in to darkness my friend come back to the light that holds us all."
"I cannot move." Legolas stuttered defeated by the icy waters.
"Take my hand."
Legolas struggled to get his numb limbs to obey his thought. Slowly, ever so slowly his hand crept out. The man's large hand suddenly enveloped his narrow ones and a feeling of warmth spread from their touch to encase his body.
"Aragorn." Legolas cried as for a brief time his mind was his own.
"Swim mellon nin, head for the surface. Be quick." Aragorn urged.
In the depths of the pool Legolas came back to life and kicked feebly for the surface.
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Aragorn lay still as the dead in the healing hall of Imladris, but on his brow shone the sweat of his labour as his flame reached out over many leagues and joined with that of his friend. He would not let him die, he could not, even if it meant his own life was forfeit. Yet he did not fight alone. His elven father realizing what his son had done, joined the power of his own life force to Aragorn's and together they struggled to pull Legolas back from the brink of death. But as the sands trickled through the hour glass the fight grew harder as the flame of the Greenleaf burned low.
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The fearsome roar of a warg and a piercing scream rang through the cavern without warning. Veren pulled back from his attack his brilliant green eyes startled. The orc breathed heavily and licked his lips, glad for the respite. The elf had almost slain him twice. He held an old curved blade that he had swept up from the ground in panic in his hand. His arms and chest bore deep gashes, evidence of their wild battle.
"Seems to me like your friends are in trouble." Garuk panted gesturing back to the tunnel mouth. Veren did not answer, but the silence that had followed the scream caused his heart to ache. One of the twins might be dead.
"Strange," he continued, "that you track me all this way and yet leave your friend to drown."
By the elf's sudden indrawn breath, Garuk knew he had won a reprieve. "Thought he was dead did ye?" he chuckled. "Well he might be by now, though ye never know he is a strong one."
Veren turned distraught to look at the surface of the pool. There was no sign of the young elf. Garuk edged back as the black haired elf turned away from him. He quickly slipped into a side passage and ran, losing himself in the tunnel maze as his wounds bled copiously.
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Aragorn and Lord Elrond felt a flash of white hit them like a physical force as their connection to Legolas was suddenly severed. Aragorn's eyes shot open.
"NO! NO!" he cried, his eyes filling with tears. He pushed his father's hands away and struggled to rise from the bed. Elrond grasped his son's flailing arms and forcefully held Estel to his chest. He was afraid that he would tear open the wound that had just begun to heal.
Aragorn began to scream and buck against his father's imprisoning embrace.
"Erestor, help me." Elrond called in panic. Injured or not Aragorn was strong and he almost slipped out of the elf lord's grasp as he lunged forward suddenly.
The older elf quickly joined Elrond and together they held the young human down on the bed.
Aragorn screamed and writhed, slamming his head against the bed as he tried to free himself. Soon white foam flecked his lips and he began to choke on his spittle. Elrond raised his upper body, slid behind him and held him fast murmuring soothing words. Unheeding Aragorn tossed his head wildly, his eyes rolling back in his head. He slammed his head against Elrond's chest and tried to pull away from him repeatedly.
"Nn…nn…nn…" were the only sounds he made.
Elrond rocked him as Erestor held onto his kicking legs.
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For the third time Veren dove into the icy waters of the pool. He could see nothing but he swam around with arms outstretched until he could hold his breath no longer. He kicked for the surface and as he did, something cold bumped into his hands. He reached out and his fingers made contact with chilled flesh. He grabbed something that felt like an arm and swam with all speed straight up.
He broke the surface and took a mighty gulp of air. A golden head bobbed up next to him. He held Legolas around the waist and swam to shore. The elf's body was stiff and cold. Veren felt for a heartbeat with numb fingers and felt none. Legolas lips had gone white and his body was a strange shade of lavender. Praying to all the Valar to grant him life, Veren turned the soaking elf onto his stomach ad began pushing down on his back. He had seen humans do this to a near drowned child and the child had lived.
Water dripped into his eyes from his wet hair and he dashed it away angrily. The young elf was not responding. He remembered the deaths of his father and brothers and the way they had lain like so much cold meat on their death pallets. In grief he struck Legolas hard on the back.
"Breathe pen neth, breathe!' He shouted.
Legolas twitched and crystal clear water came rushing out of his mouth and nose. He coughed once then twice. Veren said a prayer of thankfulness to Eru and pushed down on his back again. Legolas continued to cough as water trickled out of him.
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Elrohir felt the weight of the warg impale itself on his sword, at the same time its claws buried into his back. He could not help the shriek of pain he gave. The weight of the warg slammed into him and crushed him to the ground. His head hit rock and he drifted in a world of grey shadow.
It was so that Elladan found him. He heaved the carcass off his brother's body with a strength born of desperation.
"Elrohir, Elrohir!" he patted his twin's face and felt along his body, fingers probing for injuries. Elrohir did not respond, but he was breathing. He gathered him gently in his arms and it was then he felt the wetness of blood. Rising he staggered out of the tunnel back into the main cavern. In the light of late evening he could see six long gashes along his twins back. There was also a nasty cut on the back of his head.
Elladan needed help. He needed water to clean the wounds. He debated going back to their camp but quickly discarded the idea. It would take too long. He had to find Lord Veren. The elder elf would be able to treat him since he always carried small pouches of medicinal mixtures with him. He lifted Elrohir gently off the floor and made his way into the long dark tunnel that Veren had taken.
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Veren realised very quickly that something was not right with Legolas. The elf's eyes were open but unseeing and the black circles in his eyes were too large. He had wrapped him up in his cloak, but the young prince still shook like an old tree in winter winds. He moved him away from the cold of the pool and placing him tenderly on the ground, scavenged for debris with which he could build a fire.
Elladan stumbled from the tunnel mouth into the cavern to see Lord Veren hunched over a golden haired form. There was a fire blazing.
"My Lord." He called
Immediately Veren was there. "Bring him over to the fire."
Veren removed the torn tunic and inner shirt and sent Elladan to fetch water from the pool to clean the wounds. Elrohir made little sounds of protest as Veren cleaned the deep slashes of dirt and blood. Elladan watched over Legolas as Veren tended to his brother. "What ails him my Lord?" he asked.
"I do not know, but he is near frozen, keep him warm."
Elladn touched his friend's forehead and was surprised to feel heat emanating from chilled skin.
"He feels warm."
Veren was rubbing some warmed paste into Elrohir's back. He stopped and using his wrist touched the side of Legolas' face. Elladan was right Legolas felt fevered. Veren was puzzled because Legolas was still shaking and his teeth chattered slightly.
"Unwrap him Elladan and let him lie on the cloak."
Legolas made piteous mewling noises as Elladan tried to remove the cloak from around his body. He made feeble attempts to pull the soft cloth back around himself.
Veren finished securing Elrohir's bandages and moved to the young elf's side. "Elrohir will be okay, he has a hard head." He assured Elladan with a smile. He checked the prince's skin again. It was burning hot.
"Fetch water Elladan, we must keep him cool. I fear that orc has had a hand in this mischief. Now I understand why he dropped him into the pool. He must have poisoned him with herb."
Elladan dragged a large dented pot to the pool, filled it and dragged it back to the fire. He and Veren took turns bathing Legolas with the cold water. The trembling elf curled into a tight ball and mewled horribly.
"He is suffering!" Exclaimed Elladan his hands shaking as he unwillingly squeezed out more water onto his friend's body.
"Elladan, if his fever gets too much for his body to bear he will die, we must do this." Veren held Elladan's troubled gaze with his piercing green eyes, until the younger elf nodded miserably. Sometime during the night Elladan fell into and exhausted sleep. Veren kept watch over them all, alternately feeding the fire when it burned low and keeping an eye out for the orc in case he returned. He was deeply concerned by Legolas' raging fever. It had not abated at all for all their effort.
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Aragorn lay quietly against his father, his grief spent. Elrond was holding him, stroking his hair and speaking soft words if comfort to him. His chest was soaked with the young man's tears. Aragorn's eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm, but his hands were twisted in the folds of Elrond's flowing tunic, he held onto his elven father as though he were a strong branch in the midst of a storm.
Elrond let his cheek rest on the top of his son's head. He feared that he would not survive the death of the Mirkwood prince. "Stay with me Estel, please stay with me."
It was hours after that Aragorn finally drifted into a fitful sleep. Elrond quietly slid out from behind him and gently lay him on the bed. He lifted his white cotton shirt and pried off the bandage covering the arrow wound. The sewing had held for the most part, but around the edges were a little strained, pale pink blood seeped out. Elrond gave a sigh of relief. Glorfindel, who was still swathed in bandages across his ribcage came over to the bed.
"He will recover Elrond." He placed his hand on his friend's arm.
"Will he? Their bond is so strong…" Elrond tiredly sank to the bed staring sadly at Estel.
Notes
Dhagathon le assen I will kill you for this
To silvertoekee and the unnamed one. My heartfelt thanks for your encouraging reviews.