Author's Note: Lot's of angst here. Angst and anguish everywhere! Keep that in mind as you read, and don't jump to conclusions about anything until you've seen the next chapter!
I've perhaps taken some liberties with the power of some characters here, but it was necessary to remain true to my original idea. And please, don't jump to conclusions about the way this chapter ends.
DISCLAIMER: JRR Tolkien, The Tolkien Family, New Line Cinema, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Phillipa Boyens own this stuff. I don't. I am only borrowing the universe because it's so much fun! I am making no money from this.
I do want to say, I wrote this for the angst quotient. Those are the kinds of stories I prefer, and likely, my next fic would be more along the lines of Fight the Fall and Keeping to the Road. AnywayI've kept you from the chapter long enough. Enjoy!
Please read and review.
Encroaching Darkness by Ecri
Part 3
The snow had started to fall again, not as fiercely as it had two days before, but much more than a gentle flurry. Legolas held tightly to Aragorn who had lost consciousness sometime the preceding day. He had developed a fierce thirst, and Legolas had begun to think he was growing ill. His biggest worry, however, was the bleeding. It had worsened and his clothes and even Legolas' clothes had been stained a deep red from it.
Legolas was no healer, but every warrior of Mirkwood knew enough about herbs to know how to stem the bleeding of any wound. That Aragorn's wounds would not close and continued to expel his precious life's liquid had caused more consternation for the elf. He'd begun to wonder if he might have been able to do more were he not suffering from his own strange condition. Aragorn had joked about it in his very human attempt to lighten the mood, but Legolas could tell the Ranger had begun to wonder if he would make it as far as Imladris.
The Ranger had passed into this unnatural sleep and would not be roused. Legolas did the only thing he could think to do. He rode without pause. Whatever was wrong with his friend, Lord Elrond would see it right.
Still, the cold, and the snow, and his own alien–human–responses to them were hard for him to bear. His light clothing and shoes did naught to keep out the fierce, biting wind. Ice crystals had begun to form in his hair, and his throat pained him in a way he had never felt before. He felt a deep ache through his muscles and into his very bones, and it made him wonder how mortal men could handle this existence. His appetite, too, had increased, as had his thirst, and he was amazed at how much sustenance he required, though he tarried for none of his own needs.
He paused now staying his horse as Aragorn moaned. "Shhh! Estel, you are well! I am here! I will get you to your adar, I promise!"
Aragorn quieted at the words, though his brow was still furrowed as though deep in thought. The Future King of Men fought something, and Legolas knew he could not help. Not knowing what else to do, he began to sing to his friend in elvish, choosing the Lay of Luthien knowing his friend felt a deep connection to the song. The elf winced at the sound of his voice, too human, and not at all comforting to him, but he sang not for himself, and he would not allow his own frailties to stay him in the only course he was able to take.
**
Aragorn heard his friend singing, and on some level took comfort from both the familiarity of the song as well as the idea that his friend was singing it for him. Though he could not respond, he struggled to cling to life for the sake of his friend.
As he drifted deeper into unconsciousness, he felt a presence. It was not Legolas. It was no elf he had ever metindeed it was no one he had met, though he had faced this threat before. He heard then the Black Speech, but it melted into Common so that he could understand it, and he felt briefly relieved that Sauron had not chosen to speak in elvish, for the sound of that voice desecrating such a language of light would have been unbearable.
"You will not last the day, Heir of Isildur! I will have you, as I will have all that you hold dear!" The voice subsided into an evil cackle.
Aragorn, in his mind's eye, stood tall, drawing himself up to his full height. "I have defeated you once, Minion of Morgoth! I will do so again!"
"You bleed! You die! You have not the strength to do as you will! I have won already!" The voice paused, and suddenly the great eye, lidless and wreathed in flame, appeared flaring intensely with the wrath of the Enemy. "I will take your life, as I have taken your friend's feä!" He spoke the elvish word with relish, perhaps sensing that just speaking elvish at all, let alone that word connected with Legolas' fate would rattle the man. "Then once he is my slave, I will take the elves of Rivendell even if I must take them one by one as they leave Elrond's protection!" The laugh came again, harder, crueler, and loud enough to make Aragorn wince. Your friends and family will be my personal slaves, and I will not release them, even if Iluvatar's Song should end!"
Aragorn shuddered and turned away when the evil voice spoke his father's name. Somehow, just hearing the Enemy speak of Lord Elrond directly made him ill. To hear him mention Legolas' feä–his soul–doubled the Ranger's pain. His blood seemed frozen somehow, and his mind filled with fearful images. Images of Elrond, beaten and tortured, of Elladan and Elrohir, of Arwen enthralled by the Evil One, of Legolas in chains of an evil metal that pained him wherever they touched his skin. He, too, had been beaten and broken, and looked more mannish then elvish, unable to sing, to dance among the treetops, or to take joy in all the ways elves did. Aragorn knew the Enemy had created these images, but even that knowledge did not assuage the horrors and the guilt he felt. They suffered for him. They suffered because of him! He struggled then, screaming at the Enemy to stop.
**
Legolas felt Aragorn's struggles grow and all his singing and soothing could do naught to help. As his friend's anguish grew, the thrashing increased until Legolas was forced to stop and lower Aragorn from Fëagaladhad's back. Trying to ignore it when they both sunk deep into the snow, Legolas called to his friend. Aragorn burned with fever, and, as he spoke, screaming Daro! Daro!, over and over again, Legolas realized he was again locked in battle with the Enemy. Frustration filled him. Why would the Enemy not give up, at least for a time? (Stop! Stop!)
Legolas gripped both of Aragorn's hands in his own. "Aragorn!" he spoke loudly, again using his friend's true name thinking it could give him strength against the enemy to remember his own heritage as a Numenorean. "Aragorn! Im sinome ni le! Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad!" He repeated the words over and over gaining strength and volume as a desperation he had never felt took hold of his fear and magnified it. The desperate grief over what Aragorn suffered was so fierce he knew he was human, for had he truly been an elf, it would have killed him. (Aragorn! I am here for you! Listen to my voice. Come back to the light!)
**
Elladan scanned the area ahead of them for signs of his brother and his missing friend. Elrohir did the same, and, as Elladan watched, his twin turned to look at him. "Perhaps we missed them?"
Elladan shook his head. "I do not think we have, though I do not know how far Legolas could have come. Or, for that matter, if Aragorn would have been this far from the road to Mirkwood."
"We cannot stop!" Elrohir felt fear in his heart at the thought of abandoning the search. It would be like declaring Estel and Legolas dead, and he could not bear that.
"I said not so, Elrohir. We must look on, but our provisions grow low." Elladan was about to elaborate when they heard a voice, speaking in elvish. "Aragorn! Im sinome ni le! Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad!"
The twins looked at each other, eyes wide. Without further words, they took off urging their horses forward at great speed.
They had not gone far, when they found those they sought. Legolas sat huddled over Aragorn. Aragorn seemed unconscious, and both twins were horrified at the amount of blood that covered the two friends, and, upon closer inspection, stained Fëagaladhad's white coat. The twins vaulted from their steeds, and were at Legolas' side in an instant.
"Legolas! What has happened?" Elladan called.
Legolas did not seem to hear. His eyes clenched shut, he held fiercely to Aragorn's hands, and he continued to speak as though it was a chant. "Aragorn! Im sinome ni le! Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad!"
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged blank looks, wondering what to make of it all. Without the need for speech of any language, the brothers moved so that they stood one on either side of the pair, each clasping Aragorn's and Legolas' arms. In moments, they saw what their friend and brother faced.
Elladan called out loudly, in a voice that sounded so much like Elrond's that Aragorn called out pleadingly for his Elven father.
"Release them Foul Defiler of All Iluvatar's creation! It is not yet time for such a confrontation and well you know it!" Elladan's command would not have affected Sauron at all, had not Aragorn and Legolas already fought so bravely and so long. When Elrohir joined in on Legolas' chant, the Enemy roared an unholy roar and, with a final shove towards the group, he released Aragorn and fled.
Elladan recovered first, releasing his grip on Elrohir's hand and bending low over Aragorn. "Doro! Estel A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor" (Stop! The Shadow does not hold sway yet Estel. Literally. 'Till now the Shadow not masters, Estel.' Author's note: Courtesy of the Film, The Fellowship of the Ring!)
Aragorn's eyes flickered open and he smiled at his brother before again losing his grip on consciousness. Elladan turned then to Legolas, whom Elrohir held by both shoulders trying to elicit some response. Legolas, however, seemed beyond reaching.
"Legolas! My friend, tell us what has happened!" Elladan all but pleaded.
Legolas swayed slightly, but Elrohir's grip held him upright. He took in a deep sudden breath, and seemed to come back to himself. "Elladan? Elrohir?" He spoke in a weak whisper. "Estel! Estel!" He cried out. "We must save Estel!"
"It is all right! Legolas, we have fought off the Enemy. Estel is unconscious but safe from darkness. Tell us what happened." Elladan, like his father, commanded well, and Legolas obeyed with little thought after hearing the words and tone his friend used.
"I know not what malady afflicts him, mellonin, but he bleeds and I have found no way to stop it! I have tried! Oh! I have tried, but I fear he has lost so much blood a near-sighted orc could have tracked us by the trail of red stains upon the snow!" The anguish in Legolas' eyes permeated his voice as well.
"Shh! Legolas! It is well! We can take him to Adar. Tell us if you are injured."
"Not in body, mellonin. I will live." A strange calm overtook him now that there were others to help Estel. "Quickly. We must not waste time discussing me when Estel's life spills in great puddles onto the snow."
The three elves rose then, and though Elladan offered to take Estel, Legolas would not hear of it. He mounted and held a much calmer Aragorn to him as he had before. Together they raced to Rivendell.
**
Lord Elrond considered his words carefully. He had been concerned when King Thranduil himself had arrived a few days ago with Tarmathlion and Oropherín in tow. He had wondered briefly how Aglarelen, closest of the brothers to Legolas, had been persuaded to remain in Mirkwood, but knew Thranduil had likely promised he would be sent for when the prince returned. Thranduil's concern was in Legolas' long absence. He should have returned long before now with news of his search even had he not found Estel.
His own sons had been gone far too long as well. Elladan had sent word that Aragorn had not met them in Mirkwood, and that they had requested help from Thranduil to find him. Elrond knew the bond Estel and Legolas shared, and he had not been surprised when he'd learned that Mirkwood's youngest prince had ridden off to find the Ranger.
He looked across the room at King Thranduil once more. "I am sorry, but once again, I have had no messages."
Thranduil glared openly at the Lord of Imladris, but Elrond knew it was more out of concern for his youngest son than out of any ill feelings the King might still hold for him. Relations between the two realms had often been strained. Elrond knew the Last Alliance of Elves and Men had changed Thranduil. In his youth, the King, when he had been Crown Prince of Mirkwood, had been less distrustful of mortals. To be sure, he had never shared Legolas' easygoing nature, but he had been less stern and quicker to smile. He had seen too much too soon, and Elrond knew the horrors he had seen in Mordor haunted him still.
Likely that was his chief concern for Legolas. The young prince had seen much, losing his mother at too young an age, and the countless trials he had faced. Elrond knew Thranduil wished to protect the elfling, though he was elfling no longer. He wondered, not for the first time if the friendship Estel and Legolas had forged weighed heavy on the King's mind. He wondered if Legolas had told his father that he had pledged his life to Estelno, to Aragorn, son of Arathorn.
"What do you propose we do, Elrond? Stare at each other while our sons face the Valar know what?" Thranduil's words were harsh, but his tone, like his eyes, held only fear for his son.
Elrond shook his head. "No, mellonin. I propose we strike out tomorrow, you and I, and search for them. I suggest we keep the party small. I will take Glorfindel."
Thranduil nodded. He hadn't expected such a course from Elrond, and it suited him. "Tomorrow, then."
A hasty knock came to the door to Elrond's library as Thranduil rose to leave. Elrond rose with him, calling to he who waited. "Come!"
A breathless page entered. "Lord Elrond," he turned to Thranduil. "King Thranduil, forgive my intrusion." He turned then back to his lord. "The border guards have sent word, your sons are coming. All of them, and they bring Prince Legolas." He hesitated but Elrond knew his message was not yet delivered.
"Go on."
"They have need of your skills, my Lord."
Elrond had feared this would be so. He had already made what preparations he could, and did not have to think about what orders he should now issue. "Prepare Estel's rooms. We will use one room to house all who are injured. Move inside as many beds as necessary once they arrive. Send for the other healers and for Glorfindel. I will see to the herbs and treatments myself."
"Yes, Lord Elrond." The messenger hastened away to do as he was bid.
Elrond turned to Thranduil and saw plainly the unrestrained fear on the King's brow. "We do not know which of them is injured. Your son may be fine."
Thranduil didn't say a word, but took his leave to find Oropherín and Tarmathlion.
Elrond wasted no time in retrieving the things he would need, and moved swiftly to Estel's rooms to await the injured.
**
Elladan had been relieved to reach the borders of his father's land, and had ordered one of the border guards to race ahead to The Last Homely House to inform Elrond that he should expect some injuries. He and Elrohir would not leave Estel and Legolas. He knew Estel bled freely, but he could not think what would cause such a thing. Legolas had insisted that he had used all manner of herbs and remedies only to fail and, in some cases, to hasten the flow of blood.
Legolas himself was more of a perplexity. The elf shivered from cold or some other source that Elladan could not detect. He looked haggard and drawn as though desperately in need of sleep, and his voice had taken on a deeper, rougher, less elven tone. Legolas would not speak of what ailed him. Indeed, his only concern was for Estel, and, when the Ranger moaned or shifted, Legolas immediately whispered elvish words in his ear until he calmed.
Elladan glanced to Elrohir, but it was plain his twin could not guess what had happened. Finally, they reached the Courtyard of the Last Homely House. Elladan and Elrohir dismounted quickly, rushing then to Legolas to help the prince ease Aragorn from the horse. Legolas himself nearly stumbled as he dismounted, but he insisted on carrying Estel on his own and would not be persuaded otherwise.
Elladan watched in amazement as the battered, hurting elf, shook off all assistance, and drawing strength and power from where Elladan could not say, raced through the halls towards Estel's rooms where they'd been told Elrond waited.
Legolas ignored Elrond and seemed not to register the presence of Thranduil, Oropherín, and Tarmathlion. He moved to Estel's bed, and with more gentleness than a mother with a newborn babe, laid his friend upon it, kneeling then at the bedside, still clutching his friend's hand as he made room for Elrond to work.
Elrond took in all of this and vowed to speak to Legolas later. It seemed the Prince must have disregarded his own welfare to care for Estel, and, while Elrond was grateful, he would not have anyone treat his own well being as though it was not important.
The Lord of Imladris stood at Estel's bedside, examining every inch, every injury. Elladan whispered to him what little he'd learned from Legolas about the incessant bleeding. Elrond nodded and turned his attention to Legolas.
"Legolas, tell me what you know. Why does he bleed so?"
Legolas spoke slowly as though in stupor. "I know not, Lord Elrond. His injuries did not seem so serious when first I treated them. The next day, he developed an unquenchable thirst. I thought he might be feverish, but his wounds later began to bleed freely." Anguish displaced stupor, as the Prince finally turned to look at Elrond's face. Elrond took a step back, gasping in shock at the Prince's appearance. His face was pale and gaunt, his nose red and raw. His lips tinged blue. But his voice spoke critically of his own attempts to help his friend. "I thought perhaps I had missed something, so I stopped to check him, but there was naught I could do! No herb, no paste, no leaf, no bark! Ai! Elbereth!, he faded before me jesting to keep the worry from my mind!"
Elrond nodded concern for the Prince's state of mind growing. He dared not look at Thranduil though he heard the King's other sons speaking quickly to calm their father.
"You say he developed a great thirst?"
Legolas only nodded, slipping back into the stupor.
"Do you have his water skin?" Elrond knew his son knew much about nature and herbs, but perhaps he had somehow imbibed tainted water.
Legolas nodded again, reaching for the water skins at his side. He'd forgone drinking any at all, allowing Estel to drink all they had. "There is not much left." He admitted.
Elrond took the skins and opened them. There was but a drop in each. The first looked fine, but the secondElrond's brow furrowed at the sight of an odd white powdery residue that rimmed the mouthpiece. Cautiously, he tipped his finger in it, and brought it first to his nose, inhaling deeply. A slight odor reached him of a particular berry that grew somewhere well to the south. He brought the powder then to his tongue and tasted. His eyes widened as he realized what it was.
Muttering to himself, he moved to his store of herbs. He'd brought some of all that he had, not knowing what he would need. Grinding several leaves of several different plants together, he added them to clear, clean water. Returning to his son's side, he spoke to Elladan. "I need him to sit and drink this."
But Legolas had heard and took it upon himself to raise his friend and support him in a sitting position. Elrond placed the water at his son's lips, but Aragorn was caught in a nightmare and turned his head violently away. No matter what Elrond did, Aragorn would not take the water.
Legolas took the hand Estel had feebly raised against his father's ministrations, and with more stamina than he looked to have, he eased Estel forward, and slipped behind him on the bed, so that he once again cradled Estel to his chest and shoulder as he had on horseback. Taking the solution from Elrond he held it to Estel's lips.
"Im sinome ni le! Soga!" He spoke softly in Estel's ear, and the Ranger, perhaps eased by the familiarity of it since Legolas had often said such as they moved towards Imladris, or perhaps comforted by the fact that Legolas was with him and not lost to shadow, drank deeply, finishing the draught without pause. (I am here for you! Drink!)
Elrond and the others stared at the spectacle as Legolas discarded the empty cup, and settled Aragorn back against his chest. He began to sing, softly, and rather unelvenly, though those present assumed the change in his voice came from his own dehydration and fatigue.
Throughout the day, Legolas administered whatever medications Elrond would have Aragorn consume. He continued to sing, or merely to rock his friend, not sleeping, not eating, and taking no thought of his own welfare.
Elrond, and his sons, as well as Thranduil and his sons, tried to convince the prince to leave Estel's side and care for himself. Only Thranduil managed to elicit any response at all, causing Legolas to turn towards his father and his King, and stare into his eyes for a moment, before he once again returned his attention to Estel.
Thranduil stumbled backwards then and Elrond came up behind him catching his hand. "What? What is it?" the Lord of Imladris asked.
Thranduil looked stricken. "He is changed, though I know not how. He is not as he should be. He is not my son."
Elrond and Thranduil dropped their voices to discuss what this could mean, neither noticing the single tear that slid from beneath Legolas' closed lashes as he heard his father's words.
To Be Continued
Karri: I don't mean to step on any toes here. This will take some time to finish, and different authors will handle the same theme differently. If this all offends in some way, please let me know.
Xsilicax: Thanks!
Chloe Amethyst: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the angst. There's nothing I like more than an eager reader!
Kelly L.K: I hope you liked this chapter, then!
Tithen Min: Thanks! Yeah, this will be more involved than a quick trip to see Lord Elrond, much as I love the guy! More soon, I promise!
Grumpy: Thanks! I hope this chapter works for you.
Felian: I enjoyed reading your insights. You have given this sort of thing a lot of thought. I made Legolas 'heavier' because, if he is mortal, he would sink through the snow like mortal men do. He isn't necessarily heavier. I've always assumed that elves being able to walk above the snow was a more mysterious thing than merely weight related. More of a distribution of weight thing or maybe something even more magical. Sinking in the snow was just a mortal thing he'd have to deal with if he did indeed become human. I also don't know that I'd say the elves aren't as resilient as the mortals, just that the resilience of each race is unique to that race. Dealing with the ever changing world, and the deaths of those they come to know, mortal or immortal, requires a special resilience. Surely taking away some of that resilience, while making him vulnerable to mortal frailties would have an effect on an elf. Just like if Aragorn suddenly found himself elvish or dwarvish he'd have a hard time dealing with such a sudden alteration in the very essence of his being and his identity. Thanks for the comments, and please keep them coming!
White Wolf: I was rather proud of the vow myself! Thanks for the compliments!
Andmetwen: Yeahany excuse for more angst!
Padfoot4ever: I'll try to keep the updates coming.