Aragorn's heart seized into a dead lump in his chest as he watched Legolas slowly tumble like a rag doll through the air towards the churning river below. Watching in horrified disbelief, Aragorn's mind refused to acknowledge anything other then the Elf's pale, sickly form falling against the backdrop of the still black night.
~No...Legolas! By the Valar, NO!!~
Driven by the surging flow of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, Aragorn's primitive instincts suddenly kicked in. Springing like a coil, he dove for Legolas. Not thinking at all for his own safety, Aragorn fell to the edge of the stone bridge, his body hanging half off the side as he grappled for a hold on the falling Elf's lithe body.
Moving with inhuman speed, Aragorn managed to scoop an arm under the Elf's just before he fell out of reach, catching Legolas by the armpit. Clasping the unconscious warrior tight across the chest to ensure his hold, the Man felt the pull of Legolas' weight along the muscles of his arm and shoulder. But gravity refused to relinquish its prey so easily just yet.
Aragorn stifled a cry and grit his teeth defiantly as Legolas' limp body snapped like a whip in the air against the restraint of his arm, almost jarring his shoulder right out of its socket. But his hold was strong and did not break. He refused to let Legolas slip from his grasp. The man's strained muscles screamed in protest as the Elf hung like dead weight, his body swinging gently from side to side in the air, and the waters foaming angrily far below. Aragorn could feel his toes' grip on the slippery flagstones behind him failing. The knuckles of his free hand were slowly turning white in their death grip on the edge to keep himself from falling.
Knowing he could not hold Legolas much longer as he was, teetering there on the edge of oblivion, Aragorn ignored the tearing pain in his shoulder and quickly heaved back, pulling Legolas up with him. Legolas' feet bumped lifelessly against the bridge's side as he was brought up. Dragging the unconscious Elf-prince up over the rim of the bridge with the last of his strength, Aragorn fell back from the edge. Crashing into a tangled heap of limbs, the Ranger grunted as Legolas' body landed on his chest, knocking the air from his lungs with a loud 'Whoof!'
"Legolas! Legolas, talk to me!" Aragorn cried, catching his breath quickly. Sitting up he cradled the inert body in his arms. The Elf's head hung over the Ranger's bent elbow dramatically. His pale, upturned face shined dully in the waning moonlit. Legolas' face was screwed up in pain, his eyebrows knotted together in the middle of his forehead. His long slender fingers were weakly clenching his throbbing left arm, the bluish skin shining like black ice in the faint light of the palace gardens. The raspy intake of the sick warrior's labored breathing blistered Aragorn's ears as he listened to Legolas struggling for breath. A soft whimper of protest sounded deep within Legolas' throat as Aragorn shifted the Elf's slack body in his arms to free one of his hands.
~By the Valar... Why did I leave him? This is all my fault...~
Pressing the back of his hand against Legolas' burning hot forehead, Aragorn felt his heart jump to the back of his throat as the archer's eyes fluttered weakly open at his touch. Another heart-retching moan broke from the Elf's colorless lips and echoed away into the night as he rolled his head feverishly to the side in the crook of Aragorn's arm.
"Legolas! Legolas, can you hear me?" he called anxiously, swiping a mass of tangled blond hair away from his friend's sweat streaked face.
Blinking slowly, Legolas stared up at the man with a distant look in his listless, pain-glazed eyes. "Aragorn...?" he finally croaked out just above a whisper. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, the poisoned warrior's heavy eyelids began to droop low, threatening to slide shut.
"What happened? Why did you leave the palace? You're too sick to be outside in the middle of the night! What are you doing out here?" the Man demanded in a shrill voice of near hysteria. His body trembled with the adrenaline and worry that still pumped through his blood from Legolas' rescue. Seeing Legolas drifting off, Aragorn gave a gentle but deliberate shake to keep the Elf awake. Aragorn watched as Legolas slowly cracked open a set of glassy gray eyes and looked up at him.
"Where is she...?" The words seeped like thick tar over the archer's lips.
"Where is who?"
"Eronel...," Legolas slurred. "She...She called to me. I followed her. She said...she said she could make the pain go away, but...but..." The Elf's incoherent rambles trailed off as panic suddenly flared in his eyes. Bolting upright, Legolas tried to sit on his own power but immediately withered back into Aragorn's waiting arms, too weak to hold himself up right.
"Legolas! Legolas, calm down. It's okay. You're safe now," the Ranger soothed, trying to keep the Elf from straining himself any further in his already dangerously weak and vulnerable condition.
Locking his blurry, unfocused eyes with Aragorn's, Legolas bit back the pain that coursed through his entire left arm. "No... Aragorn, listen to me," Legolas pleaded in a weak, raspy whisper, "It was Eronel. She was the one that called me here... I cannot let her win. She...She is plotting to somehow be released. The Dwarves and Elves cannot go to war... That's what she wants... I'm a pawn. Her pawn… Please, don't let me fall... It's so dark and cold..." Working himself into a fevered frenzy, the Elf clutched at Aragorn's tunic desperately, as if trying to find something solid to latch onto. "Please, Aragorn... I must warn Gimli... we're pawns. Nothing but pawns... Eronel... war... Please...don't let me fall... so cold." Crying out suddenly, Legolas' body violently arched and spasmed in Aragorn's arms as a new wave of searing pain exploded through the poison-spread length of his arm, cutting off any more words from his mouth. Driven onto the brink of unconsciousness by his throes, Legolas lay helpless as burning pain washed through his limb and seized his lungs and heart in its paralyzing grip.
"Legolas! Hold on!" Aragorn cried in panicked alarm, quickly scooped the shivering Elf up into his arms. Sliding one hand under Legolas' back and the other beneath his knees, Aragorn hoisted the dying warrior's utterly limp body off the cold stone bridge. He knew he couldn't waste anymore time. He knew he had to find Legolas help, and fast. ~I have to find Elrond. He will know what to do...~
Legolas' weak moans of pain were muffled into Aragorn's shirt as he was swiftly born away into the night. Jogging as fast as he could without jarring Legolas too badly, the man sped towards the distant lights of the elven palace shining dimly through the dense foliage of the trees. The lights flickered in and out of sight with every twist and turn of the path. They seemed to taunt Aragorn as he hurried down the path with his fevered friend held protectively in his arms. They were like beacons of light in a sea of black, promising the safety of land, but too far away to be reached by the drowning soul that was futilely swimming against the current to reach them.
~Why did I leave him? Why did I not stay by his side? If I had been there, I could have stopped him. This is all my fault. All my fault... But how could he have gotten this far from the palace in his condition? The last time he was even able to stand was when I helped him walk out on the balcony the day before. He has been in a deep fever ever since... This is not good. He is hearing voices again. Only now he thinks it was Eronel calling to him. The hallucinations are worsening. He is actually acting upon them he thinks they are so real...~
Cold fear knotted the Ranger's stomach into a coil of dread. Time was running out for his once proud and lighthearted elven friend.
As he ran headlong through the dark, moonlit gardens at break-neck speeds, Aragorn could finally make out in the distance the faint outline of the palace drawing nearer. Pushing more effort into his stinging legs, Aragorn ignored the burning in his lungs and the cramp between his ribs and desperately sprinted the remaining distance that separated him and possibly Legolas' only hope.
Bounding up a set of stone steps that led into the rear of the palace two at a time, Aragorn exploded from out of the forest and into the bright moonlight that flooded the courtyard beyond the back gate. As he crashed into the open, the Man managed to startle two guards patrolling the rear area of the palace.
"Who goes there!" one shouted as he wheeled around to the source of the noise. His stern, booming voice rang out through the still night like canon fire. Squinting at Aragorn suspiciously standing there in the gloomy shadows of the night and holding an odd shaped bundle in his arms, the guards hastened towards the mysterious stranger, swords drawn.
Ignoring their unspoken threat, Aragorn called out in undaunted urgency, "Quick! Get Lord Elrond! His healing powers are needed immediately!"
Meeting him halfway across the courtyard, the two uniformed guards sidled up beside the Man. "Aragorn? Is that you?" he heard one of the guards call out in surprise as he came more into the light. Aragorn quickly recognized the Elf as being, Glorfindel. The fair-skinned, golden-haired Elf was one of Aragorn's oldest acquaintances in Rivendell and most trusted friends.
Immediately sheathing his sword (and motioning for the other nondescript guard to do so as well), Glorfindel cast a curious glance first at the sweaty, brow-beaten Man who had burst from the gardens in the middle of the night in such a startling fashion, and then another at the dangling form draped in his arms. Surprise lit on Glorfindel's fair elven face when he noticed what the Ranger carried was a limp body. "My Lord, what's happened? Who is that?" the Elf cried in alarm, taking a step closer, "Is that Lord Legolas? What is he doing out here at this time of night? Is he not ill?"
As if in answer to the mention of his name, Legolas cried out weakly in a broken moan of pain. The hollow sound echoed away into the lonely night. Whimpering in a fevered delirium, the poison-riddled archer lolled his head sluggishly into Aragorn's chest and slowly drifted back into the sweet, black embrace of unconsciousness. Limp as a rag, the Elf-prince hung lifelessly in his friend's arms, his sheet-white skin glowing like death in the pale moonlight. Legolas' short, shallow gasps for air rattled in his lungs like dead leaves in the wind.
~I must get him inside quickly... He will not last much longer if I do not get him indoors where it is warm~
Unable to spare the precious seconds needed to explain things, Aragorn hurriedly shoved past the two in the direction of the palace. Glancing back over his shoulder, he shouted with the clear note of fear and anxiety in his voice, "You must find Lord Elrond for me! Tell him Legolas is in desperate need of his healing abilities. Tell him he must hurry!"
"Yes, my Lord!" he heard Glorfindel reply obediently. Turning on their heels, Glorfindel and his companion sped off silently into the night, intent on locating their healer-king.
Disappearing into the dark, cavernous body of the palace, Aragorn sprinted through the hallways painted with the gloomy shadows of the night. Not caring if his heavy footfalls woke the entire population of Rivendell, he thundered down the halls.
Finally reaching the guest wing of the palace, Aragorn burst through the open door of Legolas' room. Quickly sweeping across the room in three great strides to the side of the bed, Aragorn gently lowered the Elf down into the soft downy sheets. Rolling to his side in pain, Legolas immediately curled into a shivering ball, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, as he clutched his poisoned arm in excruciating agony. His blood and flesh burned like an unsquelchable fire. Sweat pored off his forehead and down his neck, soaking his skin in a shiny film. Screaming in a choked off voice, the thrashing Elf recoiled under Aragorn's touch as the Man bent to calm him.
"Hurts...," Legolas whimpered in his sleep, "Make it stop... Please... make it stop..."
At a loss for how to help his friend, Aragorn rewet a discarded rag he found lying on the edge of the bed in the bowl of water sitting on a nearby end table and pressed it against Legolas' fever ravaged brow. Mopping the cool, damp cloth across the dying warrior's face, Aragorn felt panic beginning to knot his stomach.
~I must get Legolas help. He is beyond any aid I could possibly offer him. I must find Elrond. He will know what to do... But where is he?! Legolas cannot hold on much longer~
While Aragorn would have been considered a skilled healer by any Man or Elf; versed in an endless litany of herbs, roots, and plants that could be mashed, ground, or brewed into almost any potion, tonic, elixir, or drought having some kind of positive medical use, he felt utterly helpless and lost. Nothing from his vast repertoire of antidotes, remedies, or medicines seemed even remotely capable of counteracting or measuring anywhere in power on the same scale as the sorceress evil poison that flowed through Legolas' veins, slowly killing him. Blinded by his own sense of inadequacy and failure as a healer and friend, Aragorn could think of nothing to do for the Elf. Panic had frozen his mind.
Searching the room frantically with his eyes for anything that might help Legolas until Elrond arrived, Aragorn finally noticed a small wrapped bundle sitting on the edge of the bed's night stand. Recognizing it as an elven medicine pouch, the Ranger quickly grabbed the leather drawstring bag. Retching it open, he found several dried brown leaves inside.
~Athelas!~
His heart skipped a beat, recalling how Elrond has used the same herb to stave off the most violent effects of Eronel's poison earlier. Forcing his locked mind to work, Aragorn quickly remembered the plant's qualities and attributes. Is was an anti-venom and helped slow and counteract many poisons. He had used the very same plant to slow the poison in Frodo years before when the Hobbit had been stabbed in the middle of the night by a Morgul blade. It had worked once, it had to work again...
Quickly pinching two leaves off from the rest, the Man bent over Legolas' gaunt and trembling form. Shoving the leaves past Legolas' bloodless lips, Aragorn deftly massaged the Elf's throat until he unwillingly swallowed them. He had to hold down Legolas' weak struggles as the sick warrior coughed and gagged on the bitter herb. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the Elf's rigid and stiff muscles slowly relaxed as the Athelas took effect. The searing, mind-consuming pain finally began to taper away into a numbed ache. With a sigh, Legolas withered from exhaustion into the deep pillows of the bed. His body lay still, the only movement coming from his chest as it rose and fell in a slow, broken rhythm.
Looking at Legolas laying there in such a pitiful and fallen state, a sudden surge of anger swelled in Aragorn's chest. Legolas didn't deserve to have been poisoned. He was one of the few people in Middle-Earth that truly did not deserve to die like this. He had risked his own life countless times and saved the lives of so many others, how could Fate have rewarded him like this? How could such a proud and fearless Elf have fallen in such a random sequence of events? How could such a tiny, insignificant cut have doomed this fair, beautiful, noble warrior to such a painful and hopeless end?
Life was cruel. Cruel and unfair.
Pushing these thoughts from head, Aragorn knew he could not longer wait for Glorfindel to find Elrond. He had to find him himself. Time was running out.
"Legolas? Legolas, can you hear me?" His gentle call slowly summoned the dazed Elf back from the darkness as he sat on the edge of the bed and looked into Legolas' crumpled face. "I have to find Elrond. You have to hold on until I come back. I will be back soon. Just hold on for me."
The man was about to stand and rush off to find his foster father but was stopped when Legolas' eyes slowly opened and gazed into his soul with their deep, pain filled cerulean depths.
"Aragorn...?" he chocked out in a whisper, his bleary eyes unfocused and glazed with pain.
"Hold on, Legolas. I am going to get help."
"Aragorn, wait..." the Elf pleaded, reaching out a hand to his friend. His words came in halting intervals as he struggled to sound coherent. "Please, I must warn Gimli... Eronel is planning something... We're pawns. The Dwarves and Elves cannot go to war... She...She tried to kill me to start it... Please, do not let me fall. Eronel cannot win..."
Taking Legolas' proffered ice cold hand into his own, Aragorn forced a reassuring, unfelt smile onto his face and said, "Do not worry, my friend. I will not let you fall. You are safe. Eronel can do nothing to you. She is locked far away in her cave. She cannot harm you or anyone else. Gimli is already coming back with the enchanted water. You'll see. We will cure you of this poison and all will be well. Just hold on."
"No!" Legolas wailed in a fitful delirium with unfounded strength in his voice, "No! Eronel came to me and said the water will do nothing! It is no good! She wants war. She plans to escape. She will destroy Middle-Earth! Gimli and I are her pawns! I must warn him! Please, Aragorn, you must believe me." Staring straight into his friend's eyes, Legolas silently pleaded belief, the look of complete desperation shining in his young yet ancient eyes.
Aragorn hesitated. Doubt clouded his mind. There was no way what Legolas was saying was true. It was impossible. How could Eronel have come to him? She was still trapped in his cave a hundred miles away.
~It is the poison. He is plagued by hallucinations...~
Hiding his doubt, Aragorn pulled another fake smile of assurance onto his face. "I believe you, Legolas," he lied, "Just hold on. I must go get Elrond. He will ease your pains until Gandalf, Gimli and your cousin return. They are coming with the cure."
"No..." Legolas moaned stubbornly beneath his breath, his strength steadily bleeding away with every passing second. He tossed his head on the pillow feverishly. "It won't work... She told me..."
"Shhh shhh," Aragorn hushed softly as if to a child, trying to sooth Legolas' distressed cries. "It is alright. You are safe. I will not let you fall."
Quieting, the fevered Elf lay shivering in half-consciousness. Cracking his heavy eyelids open, Legolas gazed at Aragorn with a distant look in his eyes. "Please, make the pain stop...," he begged in a small voice burdened with the immense weight of weariness and pain, "...It is too much... Please... help me. Too much..." A broken sob sounded somewhere deep within Legolas' throat. "Please... cannot go on. I...want an end." The last few words escaped from his mouth like a sigh.
Torn by helplessness and pity, Aragorn felt his heart ripped in two. The sheer pain in the Elf's voice tore at his soul. But what struck him the harshest was the total hopelessness in Legolas' voice.
It was then, that he realized he could no longer bear the sight of his dying friend anymore. It was too painful. Where once a free-spirited Elf full of life, beauty, joy, and the promise of endless tomorrows had been, only a hollowed shell remained. The beauty and strength were gone. All that remained was pain and suffering.
Pulling a blanket over Legolas' poison devastated body, Aragorn whispered pleadingly, "I must find Elrond. I will return swiftly. Just hold on." Fighting the tears that constricted his throat and stung his eyes Aragorn turned, and fled from the room and into the night.
~~~~
TBC…
Coming soon: The Drums of War
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Hey! I've finally written one of those 'short' chapters I've been promising for the longest time! ^_^ But don't go anywhere! Although Gimli, Toreingal, and Gandalf have gone on hiatus for the last chapter or two, they'll be making their grand return next chapter, and everything's starting to come to a major head…
Anyway, thanks for all those wonderful reviews. I especially liked the ones implying my evilness… Speaking of which:
Jennifer: Aww thanks! I feel so special whenever I actually make it onto somebody's favorite list.
Fantasia: Keep reading…Don't give up on me yet!
ZeroCool: Hey, thanks for reviewing my fic too! I would have updated sooner, but with the site being down for that day or so…it kind of just didn't happen! ^_^
La Kimmycat: Take sedatives! Ha! Joking… And, yes. You now can be considered a real reviewer!
Alfarin: Ha ha! I know I'm evil…
Hermione Eveningfall: Would I? Or wouldn't I? That is the question…^_^
Fairylady: Why is everybody calling me evil!? It's not like I enjoy torturing my readers or anything… *snick*
Black Mirror aka Little Wing: You should be proud! And don't worry, I try not to leave my readers hanging too long.
Adrienne: Thanks a lot! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Well, that's about it! So until next time,
I'm LAXgirl, signing out!
Oh, don't forget! Review…please?…