Hi!
Here´s the next one, people - only two more to go afterwards :-)
Thanks to all of you for reading this and to Mor and San for their help and support. My reviewers: you are and stay the best!
Please keep the comments coming!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13 Disclaimer: Not mine
Three in darkness
There was no peace. Legolas felt haunted even as he strode along the paths of his dreams, seeking healing memories that would relief him from his pain. He knew they were there. All he had to do was find them. And yet he could not. Where in normal nights the skies above him were clear with the stars of his past shining down upon him to light his way, there was a swirling black mist now. He stumbled on his way and frowned. He never tripped not unless he was hurt. Was that it? Was that the reason for his discomfort?
A small noise froze him in his tracks. The sound was so quiet it was almost impossible to hear, even for him, but he still recognized it as he would recognize it anywhere. It was his father, crying. King Thranduil of Mirkwood, who stood against the darkening world threatening to spill further into his realm with his head held high and his spirits ready to fight. His Ada, who had reserved a tenderness and love only few would ever see beneath his sometimes intimidating strength. The Woodland King, whose tears were as rare as the song of the Entwives in this fading world.
Legolas backed away hurriedly, shocked by what memory his desolation had led him to. He would rather enter the visions of his darkest battles than to see again what he had witnessed, when he had been too young to truly comprehend. He had not understood that his Nana would never get well again, would never hold him in her arms again. But his father had known when he had bent over her still body that the guards had just brought in without a sound, and he had cried.
Stumbling again in his desperation to get away, Legolas strained to find another sound in the night, one that would replace the desperate sobs that threatened to set afire his soul in burning torment. When he finally found the low notes of a song, he strove towards it without thinking, allowing the gentle rise and fall of an elven voice to be his guideline in the dark. Only when the dreamscape around him darkened further, did he realize that what he had considered salvation was a trap. Of all the songs that he had ever heard in his long life, this was the only one that could do him harm.
Legolas brought his hands up over his ears and screamed, hoping in vain to drown the sound, but it sneaked into his mind nonetheless, completely unchanged by his attempts to block it. It curled around his senses tauntingly, sank into his mind, and ate into his soul. The elf's screams continued, but what had been shocked fear now turned into an angry challenge. He had battled this before and he would do so again, even if that meant to yell his lung out while his father wept behind his back.
.................................................................
Aragorn had slipped into a light slumber after his father's voice had faded away, even though the disappearance of the soothing sound had troubled him. His rest had been light, constantly leaving him at the surface of waking. His mind had even mused about his state, had compared it to the tense sleep that was the only rest to be found when awaiting an attack. The ranger had learnt to slumber even when orcs were near, and had learnt to trust chosen companions to guard his rest. But still this sort of sleep had always been tinged with the need to stay alert, a seeming paradox that his body had found a way to deal with. There had always been a small part of him staying close to waking. An inner sentinel that would guide him to jump up, grab his weapon and seek shelter even before the rest of his mind had caught up with the situation. This was different, though. It was as if his whole being floated just beyond the real world´s reach. He seemed to drift beneath an icy surface, separated from all that went on above him and still able to see it, albeit in a twisted sort of way. He could even feel the cold that brushed past him...
His senses suddenly ripped his thoughts out of their reverie. If he felt cold in icy water he should not sense the stroke of an icy claw sneaking along his arm, causing goose bumps to break from his skin. He should not be able to hear the low thuds that seemed to indicate something had fallen onto a soft carpet. And there should not be a voice under water. A voice he knew so well and that was filled with fear and anger.
Aragorn bolted upright in his bed, breaking away from the cobwebs of his rest with such force that it left his head spinning. He shivered in a cold that he could not explain and loud bangs shook the door. He ignored it, all his attention drawn to the writhing form on the bed next to him. Legolas´ eyes were wide open. The ranger could tell his friend was not awake yet but trapped within a nightmare. Twisting his body as if burning in pain, he tore at the bonds that held his broken leg in place, not quite tearing loose yet. He screamed, and what seemed incoherent at first began to dissolve into words.
"Um glaer, im nivon gorf-cin. Ego! Ego!" [Evil song, I face your power. Be gone! Be gone!]
His mind finally realizing what Legolas was dreaming of, the human desperately looked around for help. Surely his father had not left them alone! And indeed, now that he tore his gaze from his friend he could see his brothers, sleeping without even stirring beyond the gentle rise and fall of their breathing, and two healers he knew well. One of the elves sat at the small table by the window, his head resting on the smooth surface. The other lay on the floor a few paces further, her hand stretched out towards the door as if she had meant to open it. A grey mist had gathered around the second healer's head and was just releasing her still form, slithering towards the door to disappear through the small gap beneath it. Outside, the winds screamed out their fury within the first real storm of this fall, whipped raindrops finding their way in through the slightly ajar windows. The air smelled of earth and dead leaves.
A rush of dread swept away the pain in Aragorn's body when he quickly pulled his blanket aside and swung his legs over the edge. His movements were hindered by the fact that his left arm was securely bound to his chest to immobilise his broken collar bone. To complicate matters further, his heavily bandaged right knee would never support his weight. Legolas´ bed was right next to his, however, and he reached it by pulling himself across. Settling himself beside his friend, he placed his good hand onto the elf's chest in the hope of stilling his movements. Urgent word spilled from his lips without much thought.
"Legolas, dinen! Ha ol um, bauglo ha, mellon-nin, bauglo ha!" [Legolas, (be) still. It is a bad dream, conquer it, my friend. Conquer it!]
The distraught elf turned his head towards the familiar voice and the thrashing eased, but he still twisted as if trying to get away from something and his wide gaze went straight through the ranger as he continued his chant, repeating the same words over and over again. Aragorn felt his desperation grow and he lightly slapped his friend to bring him around. "Come on, wake up! Please, my friend, the song is gone. Listen to my voice, awake!" The less than gentle treatment seemed to have an effect. The blue eyes began to lose their shady glaze.
Aragorn had hardly uttered the words, however, when suddenly the door flew open and Faun stumbled in, carried forward by his own movement. The stallion slithered to a stop by his master's bed and then nuzzled the elf urgently, as if knowingly aiding Aragorn in his efforts. Legolas´ right hand came up to push the annoying snout away, but Faun was not to be discarded this easily and continued pushing until Legolas grew still before saying in a shaky voice: "Faun, baw." [Faun, stop it.] Immediately, the horse obeyed and raised its head to gaze at Aragorn with an air of triumph.
The ranger had no eyes for him, though, his attention still fixed upon his friend. Gently, he cupped the elf's chin and turned his head to look into his face. He was relieved at the coherence he saw there. "It was only a dream", the human said gently, "you are safe here." He could feel the heat radiating from his friend and added softly: "Do not fear, it is but a fever that brings forth these foul memories." Legolas features relaxed at his friend's words, but only for a short moment. His brow wrinkled in distress and fear returned to his eyes. "Nay, Estel", he whispered hoarsely, "glaer nev. Im laston ha..." [No, Estel, the song is here. I hear it...]
A look of sudden understanding crossed the elf's face and his hands shot up in a blur, clapping themselves firmly over the human's ears. "Allasto!" [Don´t listen!] Legolas mouthed desperately, his gaze flickering over the ranger's face as if searching for any signs of fear or madness there. Aragorn sat frozen, completely taken aback by what was happening. Now that the first rush of excitement began to abate, his pains raised their ugly heads again and he felt dizzy, as if balancing along a deep cliff. He allowed himself to sit still for a few heartbeats, listening to his own blood as it rushed through his ears and questioning himself whether the elf was correct.
Had he heard anything but Faun and Legolas´ own screams when he had awakened? Forcing his mind to return to what had happened, only such a short time ago, he realized that there had been nothing further - except for the sounds of the storm. Just as there had been nothing that fateful, sunny day when the song had first lured Legolas into its deadly trap. "I didn't hear anything", he reassured his friend, "believe me, I am safe. You may let go of me, I do not hear it. It is not after me." When he looked at Legolas, he found that the elf was no longer staring at him. Even though he kept his hold on the ranger, the prince was now looking around the room, his gaze shooting restlessly back and forth. Sweat was collecting on his brown and his mouth was moving as he repeated the words he had used when still asleep.
Carefully, Aragorn used his good arm to push those of Legolas down, freeing his ears. Immediately, the elf's attention returned to his human friend and he shook his head in despair. "Nay, Estel, allasto, allasto..." "I don't," Aragorn cut in quickly, "I cannot hear anything. Just like Faun. Look at him, he is not effected either, we are safe!" Legolas frowned, visibly struggling with the ranger's words. His eyes gained strength when he looked back and forth between human and horse, realizing Aragorn was indeed correct. An expression of deep gratefulness crossed his tense features. Then he indicated the healer at the table, being unable to see the one on the floor. "Man - ..." [What - ...] He faltered, frowning again, his eyes restless.
Aragorn still understood what his friend meant, and as much as he wanted to help Legolas, he had the obligation to aid those who might be in more dire need first. "I will see to them", the ranger reassured his friend, "just lay still. I will be back at your side right away." Tearing himself away with difficulty, Aragorn lowered himself to his free hand and good knee and pulled himself towards the female healer on the floor. It only took him a moment to find that she was merely sleeping. Gazing intently at the male healer by the window, he could detect shallow breaths in him, too. The human breathed a sigh of relief. He had enough on his hands as it was. Yet what had happened here? What had caused this strange malady?
Pulling himself back onto Legolas´ bed, he saw that the elf had withdrawn into himself again, muttering under his breath. His eyes were slightly glazed, but he had not left the waking world - even though Aragorn suspected that right now, this difference hardly mattered to the prince. Placing his hand on his friend's arm to let him know he was not alone, the ranger felt a wave of fear wash over him. He felt utterly abandoned. His injuries were no longer merely painful; they began to send out blinding flashes that shook his whole frame. He could not care for Legolas in this state. They needed help.
Raising his head towards the open door of the room, Aragorn began to shout. He did so again and again, hearing the echoes drift through the hall and back towards him as if they refused to find other ears but his. There was no reaction. Only the rains increased, drumming against the windows and splattering against the windowsills. Mournful howls rose on the wind, nature itself showing its helpless pity. The pains in his head grew unbearable after a while and he was forced to stop. With difficulty, he drew deep breaths to fight the nausea that rose within him. His vision began to flicker, a light about to be doused by the storm.
Reaching out blindly, Aragorn found the small table beside Legolas´ bed. It was littered with phials and herbs. A glass was knocked over in his groping and he flinched painfully at the sharp sound when it shattered on the floor. But then the ranger's hand was finally drawn towards the small bundle of small white blossoms that rested next to a small bowl. Even without looking, he would recognize this plant anywhere and he did not hesitate to put it into his mouth, chewing quickly.
It only took the athelas a few heartbeats to take effect. Then the red veils lifted. The darkness that had threatened to drown his awareness backed away. He was free to breathe again, think again. Aragorn felt himself shudder. He was drenched in sweat. He realized that there was a hand on his and he looked down at Legolas. The elf seemed more lucid now, even though there was still a flickering restlessness in his eyes. When he spoke, though, it was with surprising strength and determination.
"You were right, mellon-nin", he said hoarsely, "in my fear I refused to listen. Now I know that this call is meant only for me." A brief smile danced across his lips. "I am glad that you are spared. But I will answer the beckoning." Without further words, he pushed himself up and reached for the small herb knife that lay on the nightstand, beginning to cut the bonds that held his broken leg. "What do you think you are doing?!" Aragorn exclaimed and tried to push the elf back down, but he was unable to do so with the help of just one hand. Legolas seemed to be growing stronger by the second.
"I will no longer be tormented by this!" the elf said angrily, "and if that means I have to face this demon again, then so I will. I can feel my soul shuddering as it is." Having freed his leg, the elf looked up at his friend and his eyes grew soft. "I will go insane if this continues, Estel. I can hear it again; I can feel it take possession of my very thoughts. It is different than it was; the chorus of voices is gone. The demon has been reduced to a much more basic form, but it is still there. His voice calls me. I will answer the challenge. There will be no help this time."
Aragorn swallowed. He wanted to reassure the elf, tell him that there was no need for him to meet this foe, and yet he could feel the truth behind his friend's decision. The calm that seemed to have overcome Legolas with his choice spread to the ranger as he made his. Emptied as Imladris seemed to be, it was not completely so.
Seeing how Legolas struggled with the severed bonds that had become tangled across his broken leg, Aragorn reached over and helped his friend free himself. The elf looked up at him in surprise. "I will not let you go alone", then ranger stated simply, "and do not believe you will be able to shake me off. We shall go together. Faun will be able to carry us both." Legolas opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he stopped himself. His head inclined ever so slightly in acceptance. "So be it", he said, and the matter was settled.
...........................................................................
Deep within the bowels of Imladris, the vampire smiled. He could feel his call take effect on his prey. He could sense that his ruse that all help had gone was working. As he continued his song, a feeling of triumph washed over him. He would take the prince and shatter his soul with one of the mightiest elven lords of Middle Earth mere heartbeats away. He would humble all that was good in his cleverness.
..........................................................................
Not far away from him yet in another world, Glorfindel raised his head. He raised his eyebrows as he stepped towards the window of Elrond´s study and inclined his head, listening intently to the howling wind. A frown marred his smooth brow. A doubt entered his mind. When he turned to his friend, he found that the elven lord had already risen with an expression of fury on his darkened features.
.........................................................................
Aragorn could feel the heat that radiated from Legolas warm his back, the elf's sweat slowly seeping through his tunic where his friend's arm encircled his waist to keep him steady on the horse. Faun moved carefully beneath them, mindful of his double burden and picking his way with precision. The ranger tightened his grip on the sword that he held in his free hand and could hold back a grim smile at the picture they presented. They truly were the last resort, walking wounded and by all rights to weak to even move. Yet here they were.
Legolas had guided his stallion though the corridor and down the stairs to the main hall. They were heading down the ground floor now. So far, they had at least passed seven motionless elves but they had never stopped, hoping that none had suffered a more grievous fate than the two healers in their chamber. The storm's voice was even closer to them here as they rode down the passageway that would lead them to the kitchens. The light curtains that were all the separation between this corridor and the gardens that lay towards their right billowed in he winds. They twisted and turned as if harbouring dark spirits caught within their depth, and to Aragorn's weary eye they formed wondrous shapes that looked ready to break free any time.
Stray raindrops showered them and they could hear the trees groan when their branches bowed under the onslaught of the storm. The racket of the winds made the unnatural blanket of quiet that smothered Imladris all the more tangible.
"Not far now", Legolas whispered, "not far..." Aragorn could feel the elf's body draw tight in anticipation. The ranger prayed then. He prayed to the Valar that a stubborn horse and an invalid human would be enough to support the prince in the upcoming battle. Prayed that their courage would be rewarded and they would live to see another morning. But then a door creaked open to their left, swinging to the side as if pushed by invisible hands, and all thoughts of the future were replaced by the cold present.
A draft sighed up from the storing rooms that lay beyond the door. The darkness that crept from the deep seemed far thicker than it should have been. Faun shook his head and danced on the spot, unwilling to carry his master into such a dreary place, but Legolas gently nudged him on. "Huor, mellon-nin", he whispered, "goth alpalan." [Courage, my friend, the foe is near.] And so the stallion obeyed and carried them away from the last rays of light that had guided their path.
TBC
Review responses:
Tychen: Ah, has been acting up again? Thanks for trying so hard, I appreciate it! Yes, Elrond was wrong, but all things considered his conclusion was the most logical one. Only that revenge is hardly ever logical. The vampire could have run off in Calen´s body and Middle Earth would have had one very dangerous monster more ;-) LOL, no elven lords in sight yet but I hope you are happy with Aragorn´s bravery.
Alexa: Thank you! Yes, I do believe that Legolas and Glorfindel would share a connection, and this will certainly be part of the sequel(s). Erm, yes, poor elf. I can be so mean sometimes...
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thanks!! Please keep reading :)
Elvingirl3737: LOL!! What is this I see running like the wind? Two young elves being chased by their biggest fan?! Yes, they are great, and they are fun to write, too. You are quite right about that vampire, he´s not done yet - but as the saying goes, arrogance comes before the fall...
Ertia: Wow, thanks. I´m happy you enjoyed the "mix" in this chapter. The evil twist comes sort of naturally - have to see what that will mean for the ending of this story ;-)
Mornflower: Too bad the vampire is not stupid enough! He´d be much easier to slay then - but unfortunately he´s rather cunning. Good thing that the good guys (including some horses) are not stupid, either ;-)
THANK YOU ALL!!!
Here´s the next one, people - only two more to go afterwards :-)
Thanks to all of you for reading this and to Mor and San for their help and support. My reviewers: you are and stay the best!
Please keep the comments coming!
Alinah
Rating: PG 13 Disclaimer: Not mine
Three in darkness
There was no peace. Legolas felt haunted even as he strode along the paths of his dreams, seeking healing memories that would relief him from his pain. He knew they were there. All he had to do was find them. And yet he could not. Where in normal nights the skies above him were clear with the stars of his past shining down upon him to light his way, there was a swirling black mist now. He stumbled on his way and frowned. He never tripped not unless he was hurt. Was that it? Was that the reason for his discomfort?
A small noise froze him in his tracks. The sound was so quiet it was almost impossible to hear, even for him, but he still recognized it as he would recognize it anywhere. It was his father, crying. King Thranduil of Mirkwood, who stood against the darkening world threatening to spill further into his realm with his head held high and his spirits ready to fight. His Ada, who had reserved a tenderness and love only few would ever see beneath his sometimes intimidating strength. The Woodland King, whose tears were as rare as the song of the Entwives in this fading world.
Legolas backed away hurriedly, shocked by what memory his desolation had led him to. He would rather enter the visions of his darkest battles than to see again what he had witnessed, when he had been too young to truly comprehend. He had not understood that his Nana would never get well again, would never hold him in her arms again. But his father had known when he had bent over her still body that the guards had just brought in without a sound, and he had cried.
Stumbling again in his desperation to get away, Legolas strained to find another sound in the night, one that would replace the desperate sobs that threatened to set afire his soul in burning torment. When he finally found the low notes of a song, he strove towards it without thinking, allowing the gentle rise and fall of an elven voice to be his guideline in the dark. Only when the dreamscape around him darkened further, did he realize that what he had considered salvation was a trap. Of all the songs that he had ever heard in his long life, this was the only one that could do him harm.
Legolas brought his hands up over his ears and screamed, hoping in vain to drown the sound, but it sneaked into his mind nonetheless, completely unchanged by his attempts to block it. It curled around his senses tauntingly, sank into his mind, and ate into his soul. The elf's screams continued, but what had been shocked fear now turned into an angry challenge. He had battled this before and he would do so again, even if that meant to yell his lung out while his father wept behind his back.
.................................................................
Aragorn had slipped into a light slumber after his father's voice had faded away, even though the disappearance of the soothing sound had troubled him. His rest had been light, constantly leaving him at the surface of waking. His mind had even mused about his state, had compared it to the tense sleep that was the only rest to be found when awaiting an attack. The ranger had learnt to slumber even when orcs were near, and had learnt to trust chosen companions to guard his rest. But still this sort of sleep had always been tinged with the need to stay alert, a seeming paradox that his body had found a way to deal with. There had always been a small part of him staying close to waking. An inner sentinel that would guide him to jump up, grab his weapon and seek shelter even before the rest of his mind had caught up with the situation. This was different, though. It was as if his whole being floated just beyond the real world´s reach. He seemed to drift beneath an icy surface, separated from all that went on above him and still able to see it, albeit in a twisted sort of way. He could even feel the cold that brushed past him...
His senses suddenly ripped his thoughts out of their reverie. If he felt cold in icy water he should not sense the stroke of an icy claw sneaking along his arm, causing goose bumps to break from his skin. He should not be able to hear the low thuds that seemed to indicate something had fallen onto a soft carpet. And there should not be a voice under water. A voice he knew so well and that was filled with fear and anger.
Aragorn bolted upright in his bed, breaking away from the cobwebs of his rest with such force that it left his head spinning. He shivered in a cold that he could not explain and loud bangs shook the door. He ignored it, all his attention drawn to the writhing form on the bed next to him. Legolas´ eyes were wide open. The ranger could tell his friend was not awake yet but trapped within a nightmare. Twisting his body as if burning in pain, he tore at the bonds that held his broken leg in place, not quite tearing loose yet. He screamed, and what seemed incoherent at first began to dissolve into words.
"Um glaer, im nivon gorf-cin. Ego! Ego!" [Evil song, I face your power. Be gone! Be gone!]
His mind finally realizing what Legolas was dreaming of, the human desperately looked around for help. Surely his father had not left them alone! And indeed, now that he tore his gaze from his friend he could see his brothers, sleeping without even stirring beyond the gentle rise and fall of their breathing, and two healers he knew well. One of the elves sat at the small table by the window, his head resting on the smooth surface. The other lay on the floor a few paces further, her hand stretched out towards the door as if she had meant to open it. A grey mist had gathered around the second healer's head and was just releasing her still form, slithering towards the door to disappear through the small gap beneath it. Outside, the winds screamed out their fury within the first real storm of this fall, whipped raindrops finding their way in through the slightly ajar windows. The air smelled of earth and dead leaves.
A rush of dread swept away the pain in Aragorn's body when he quickly pulled his blanket aside and swung his legs over the edge. His movements were hindered by the fact that his left arm was securely bound to his chest to immobilise his broken collar bone. To complicate matters further, his heavily bandaged right knee would never support his weight. Legolas´ bed was right next to his, however, and he reached it by pulling himself across. Settling himself beside his friend, he placed his good hand onto the elf's chest in the hope of stilling his movements. Urgent word spilled from his lips without much thought.
"Legolas, dinen! Ha ol um, bauglo ha, mellon-nin, bauglo ha!" [Legolas, (be) still. It is a bad dream, conquer it, my friend. Conquer it!]
The distraught elf turned his head towards the familiar voice and the thrashing eased, but he still twisted as if trying to get away from something and his wide gaze went straight through the ranger as he continued his chant, repeating the same words over and over again. Aragorn felt his desperation grow and he lightly slapped his friend to bring him around. "Come on, wake up! Please, my friend, the song is gone. Listen to my voice, awake!" The less than gentle treatment seemed to have an effect. The blue eyes began to lose their shady glaze.
Aragorn had hardly uttered the words, however, when suddenly the door flew open and Faun stumbled in, carried forward by his own movement. The stallion slithered to a stop by his master's bed and then nuzzled the elf urgently, as if knowingly aiding Aragorn in his efforts. Legolas´ right hand came up to push the annoying snout away, but Faun was not to be discarded this easily and continued pushing until Legolas grew still before saying in a shaky voice: "Faun, baw." [Faun, stop it.] Immediately, the horse obeyed and raised its head to gaze at Aragorn with an air of triumph.
The ranger had no eyes for him, though, his attention still fixed upon his friend. Gently, he cupped the elf's chin and turned his head to look into his face. He was relieved at the coherence he saw there. "It was only a dream", the human said gently, "you are safe here." He could feel the heat radiating from his friend and added softly: "Do not fear, it is but a fever that brings forth these foul memories." Legolas features relaxed at his friend's words, but only for a short moment. His brow wrinkled in distress and fear returned to his eyes. "Nay, Estel", he whispered hoarsely, "glaer nev. Im laston ha..." [No, Estel, the song is here. I hear it...]
A look of sudden understanding crossed the elf's face and his hands shot up in a blur, clapping themselves firmly over the human's ears. "Allasto!" [Don´t listen!] Legolas mouthed desperately, his gaze flickering over the ranger's face as if searching for any signs of fear or madness there. Aragorn sat frozen, completely taken aback by what was happening. Now that the first rush of excitement began to abate, his pains raised their ugly heads again and he felt dizzy, as if balancing along a deep cliff. He allowed himself to sit still for a few heartbeats, listening to his own blood as it rushed through his ears and questioning himself whether the elf was correct.
Had he heard anything but Faun and Legolas´ own screams when he had awakened? Forcing his mind to return to what had happened, only such a short time ago, he realized that there had been nothing further - except for the sounds of the storm. Just as there had been nothing that fateful, sunny day when the song had first lured Legolas into its deadly trap. "I didn't hear anything", he reassured his friend, "believe me, I am safe. You may let go of me, I do not hear it. It is not after me." When he looked at Legolas, he found that the elf was no longer staring at him. Even though he kept his hold on the ranger, the prince was now looking around the room, his gaze shooting restlessly back and forth. Sweat was collecting on his brown and his mouth was moving as he repeated the words he had used when still asleep.
Carefully, Aragorn used his good arm to push those of Legolas down, freeing his ears. Immediately, the elf's attention returned to his human friend and he shook his head in despair. "Nay, Estel, allasto, allasto..." "I don't," Aragorn cut in quickly, "I cannot hear anything. Just like Faun. Look at him, he is not effected either, we are safe!" Legolas frowned, visibly struggling with the ranger's words. His eyes gained strength when he looked back and forth between human and horse, realizing Aragorn was indeed correct. An expression of deep gratefulness crossed his tense features. Then he indicated the healer at the table, being unable to see the one on the floor. "Man - ..." [What - ...] He faltered, frowning again, his eyes restless.
Aragorn still understood what his friend meant, and as much as he wanted to help Legolas, he had the obligation to aid those who might be in more dire need first. "I will see to them", the ranger reassured his friend, "just lay still. I will be back at your side right away." Tearing himself away with difficulty, Aragorn lowered himself to his free hand and good knee and pulled himself towards the female healer on the floor. It only took him a moment to find that she was merely sleeping. Gazing intently at the male healer by the window, he could detect shallow breaths in him, too. The human breathed a sigh of relief. He had enough on his hands as it was. Yet what had happened here? What had caused this strange malady?
Pulling himself back onto Legolas´ bed, he saw that the elf had withdrawn into himself again, muttering under his breath. His eyes were slightly glazed, but he had not left the waking world - even though Aragorn suspected that right now, this difference hardly mattered to the prince. Placing his hand on his friend's arm to let him know he was not alone, the ranger felt a wave of fear wash over him. He felt utterly abandoned. His injuries were no longer merely painful; they began to send out blinding flashes that shook his whole frame. He could not care for Legolas in this state. They needed help.
Raising his head towards the open door of the room, Aragorn began to shout. He did so again and again, hearing the echoes drift through the hall and back towards him as if they refused to find other ears but his. There was no reaction. Only the rains increased, drumming against the windows and splattering against the windowsills. Mournful howls rose on the wind, nature itself showing its helpless pity. The pains in his head grew unbearable after a while and he was forced to stop. With difficulty, he drew deep breaths to fight the nausea that rose within him. His vision began to flicker, a light about to be doused by the storm.
Reaching out blindly, Aragorn found the small table beside Legolas´ bed. It was littered with phials and herbs. A glass was knocked over in his groping and he flinched painfully at the sharp sound when it shattered on the floor. But then the ranger's hand was finally drawn towards the small bundle of small white blossoms that rested next to a small bowl. Even without looking, he would recognize this plant anywhere and he did not hesitate to put it into his mouth, chewing quickly.
It only took the athelas a few heartbeats to take effect. Then the red veils lifted. The darkness that had threatened to drown his awareness backed away. He was free to breathe again, think again. Aragorn felt himself shudder. He was drenched in sweat. He realized that there was a hand on his and he looked down at Legolas. The elf seemed more lucid now, even though there was still a flickering restlessness in his eyes. When he spoke, though, it was with surprising strength and determination.
"You were right, mellon-nin", he said hoarsely, "in my fear I refused to listen. Now I know that this call is meant only for me." A brief smile danced across his lips. "I am glad that you are spared. But I will answer the beckoning." Without further words, he pushed himself up and reached for the small herb knife that lay on the nightstand, beginning to cut the bonds that held his broken leg. "What do you think you are doing?!" Aragorn exclaimed and tried to push the elf back down, but he was unable to do so with the help of just one hand. Legolas seemed to be growing stronger by the second.
"I will no longer be tormented by this!" the elf said angrily, "and if that means I have to face this demon again, then so I will. I can feel my soul shuddering as it is." Having freed his leg, the elf looked up at his friend and his eyes grew soft. "I will go insane if this continues, Estel. I can hear it again; I can feel it take possession of my very thoughts. It is different than it was; the chorus of voices is gone. The demon has been reduced to a much more basic form, but it is still there. His voice calls me. I will answer the challenge. There will be no help this time."
Aragorn swallowed. He wanted to reassure the elf, tell him that there was no need for him to meet this foe, and yet he could feel the truth behind his friend's decision. The calm that seemed to have overcome Legolas with his choice spread to the ranger as he made his. Emptied as Imladris seemed to be, it was not completely so.
Seeing how Legolas struggled with the severed bonds that had become tangled across his broken leg, Aragorn reached over and helped his friend free himself. The elf looked up at him in surprise. "I will not let you go alone", then ranger stated simply, "and do not believe you will be able to shake me off. We shall go together. Faun will be able to carry us both." Legolas opened his mouth as if to protest, but then he stopped himself. His head inclined ever so slightly in acceptance. "So be it", he said, and the matter was settled.
...........................................................................
Deep within the bowels of Imladris, the vampire smiled. He could feel his call take effect on his prey. He could sense that his ruse that all help had gone was working. As he continued his song, a feeling of triumph washed over him. He would take the prince and shatter his soul with one of the mightiest elven lords of Middle Earth mere heartbeats away. He would humble all that was good in his cleverness.
..........................................................................
Not far away from him yet in another world, Glorfindel raised his head. He raised his eyebrows as he stepped towards the window of Elrond´s study and inclined his head, listening intently to the howling wind. A frown marred his smooth brow. A doubt entered his mind. When he turned to his friend, he found that the elven lord had already risen with an expression of fury on his darkened features.
.........................................................................
Aragorn could feel the heat that radiated from Legolas warm his back, the elf's sweat slowly seeping through his tunic where his friend's arm encircled his waist to keep him steady on the horse. Faun moved carefully beneath them, mindful of his double burden and picking his way with precision. The ranger tightened his grip on the sword that he held in his free hand and could hold back a grim smile at the picture they presented. They truly were the last resort, walking wounded and by all rights to weak to even move. Yet here they were.
Legolas had guided his stallion though the corridor and down the stairs to the main hall. They were heading down the ground floor now. So far, they had at least passed seven motionless elves but they had never stopped, hoping that none had suffered a more grievous fate than the two healers in their chamber. The storm's voice was even closer to them here as they rode down the passageway that would lead them to the kitchens. The light curtains that were all the separation between this corridor and the gardens that lay towards their right billowed in he winds. They twisted and turned as if harbouring dark spirits caught within their depth, and to Aragorn's weary eye they formed wondrous shapes that looked ready to break free any time.
Stray raindrops showered them and they could hear the trees groan when their branches bowed under the onslaught of the storm. The racket of the winds made the unnatural blanket of quiet that smothered Imladris all the more tangible.
"Not far now", Legolas whispered, "not far..." Aragorn could feel the elf's body draw tight in anticipation. The ranger prayed then. He prayed to the Valar that a stubborn horse and an invalid human would be enough to support the prince in the upcoming battle. Prayed that their courage would be rewarded and they would live to see another morning. But then a door creaked open to their left, swinging to the side as if pushed by invisible hands, and all thoughts of the future were replaced by the cold present.
A draft sighed up from the storing rooms that lay beyond the door. The darkness that crept from the deep seemed far thicker than it should have been. Faun shook his head and danced on the spot, unwilling to carry his master into such a dreary place, but Legolas gently nudged him on. "Huor, mellon-nin", he whispered, "goth alpalan." [Courage, my friend, the foe is near.] And so the stallion obeyed and carried them away from the last rays of light that had guided their path.
TBC
Review responses:
Tychen: Ah, has been acting up again? Thanks for trying so hard, I appreciate it! Yes, Elrond was wrong, but all things considered his conclusion was the most logical one. Only that revenge is hardly ever logical. The vampire could have run off in Calen´s body and Middle Earth would have had one very dangerous monster more ;-) LOL, no elven lords in sight yet but I hope you are happy with Aragorn´s bravery.
Alexa: Thank you! Yes, I do believe that Legolas and Glorfindel would share a connection, and this will certainly be part of the sequel(s). Erm, yes, poor elf. I can be so mean sometimes...
Candidus-lupus-full Moon: Thanks!! Please keep reading :)
Elvingirl3737: LOL!! What is this I see running like the wind? Two young elves being chased by their biggest fan?! Yes, they are great, and they are fun to write, too. You are quite right about that vampire, he´s not done yet - but as the saying goes, arrogance comes before the fall...
Ertia: Wow, thanks. I´m happy you enjoyed the "mix" in this chapter. The evil twist comes sort of naturally - have to see what that will mean for the ending of this story ;-)
Mornflower: Too bad the vampire is not stupid enough! He´d be much easier to slay then - but unfortunately he´s rather cunning. Good thing that the good guys (including some horses) are not stupid, either ;-)
THANK YOU ALL!!!