AN: I do not know how to make a litter, nor have I ever tried. As I may have mentioned earlier, I do not have a horse to try it out on either. If I have this wrong, I would love to know because I really am curious about this kind of thing.

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Aragorn stared down on the three bodies a moment later, hating that elves, beings more pure and eternal than any man, could be reduced to such a description. Then, with a heavy heart, he moved to lay Elrohir upon the ground.

"I must gather some wood so that we might make a litter to bare these home. Will you wait here for me?"

"I seem to have little choice, but thank you for asking anyway." Elrohir replied stiffly, flinching a little as he was laid upon the ground on his side, so that no pressure was places on his wound.

"I will check your bandages before we move on again." Aragorn took Elladan's hand from his shoulder where it had been resting, and pulled him down beside his brother, pressing a water skin into his hands. "Shout if you hear danger coming, you will not be able to hide." And with that warning, he moved quickly into the trees to search for wood.

-

Left alone in the quiet of the glade, the only two alive, Elrohir began to feel chilled. Though he probably hadn't intended it, his thoughts on more serious matters, Aragorn had left Elrohir facing the three elves that they had had so little time to become acquainted with. It was as Aragorn had said: Túrith curled up close to Daefindir's side like a lover, Elanor with a hand reaching out to rest on Daefindir's waist. They looked as though they were sleeping after a night spent together. He closed his eyes against the sight.

Focusing instead on himself, he worked to discover if the strange paralysis and the numbness that had accompanied it were receding at all. After much deliberation, he decided that he could feel the grass beneath his feet and allowed himself a short celebration. When he found that his hands and forearms had also regained some sensitivity, he moved on to a full-fledged smile; finding that his hands were beginning to respond to his commands was the honey on the lembas. He had to restrain the urge to call Aragorn back and share the discovery with him. Oh, how small a thing could feel like freedom after days of isolation.
Elladan was going through a similar process, though his was giving much less positive results. He sat on the ground with Elrohir's head in his lap - or at least it had been implied that it was Elrohir, and he reassured himself by stroking his hands through the knotted hair that spoke of an elf of status from Imladris.

The world around him was dark no matter how hard he stared and silent no matter how hard he listened. This was true isolation, the kind imposed by a wounded body. How would he continue if this were to prove permanent? His heart ached, reminding him of another wound. How would either of them continue without Legolas?

Some part of him wanted to deny what he been told, in the round about way that he become his only way of communication. He had not seen that Legolas was dead, nor had he heard the words spoken. What if he had misunderstood? But if that was the case what was the meaning of Elrohir's tears? Had he misunderstood that also? Was it Elrohir at all, or had he been separated from his friends and thrown into some mockery of life, some illusion where he was led further and further away from those he had sworn to protect?

How could he ever know truth from falsity?

He laid a gentle hand alongside Elrohir's face. For now he could only take things at face value and move on. His heart told him Elrohir was safe and nearby, so here he was. His heart told him that Aragorn would lead them truly, and so he followed. This was the only way for things to be.

"Would you like some water?" The face moved under his hand - a nod. "Can you take it yourself?" A shake. "Can I lift you without causing you pain?" Hesitation, then a nod. Elrohir was uncertain. "I shall be gentle, brother." It was life broken down into the smallest movements, the slowest exchanges, a series of discrete events. With the greatest care, Elrohir was lifted into sitting position, and fed a little water at a time until he wanted no more.

-

Aragorn returned with two long poles, birch saplings that were more than twice his height. Taking a coil of rope from his satchel, he moved quickly to harness Cúdîn to the make-shift litter. Though the elven rope would not rub the horse, Aragorn hoped he would not have to drag the litter the whole way, for it was not the most comfortable of contraptions for the horse. Satisfied that the poles would not slip from around the horse's sides, Aragorn proceeded to lash the two ends together to form a triangular base over which he laid his cloak and bedroll. Then he moved the five bodies onto the litter and asked Cúdîn to walk on to make sure nothing rubbed against his sides and that the rig was stable enough.

The whole process had passed with barely a word from Aragorn save to ask Cúdîn to stand or walk on. As he moved to Elrohir's side, he saw that the marks of heated tears had stained his face and still they welled in his eyes, though he fought them for control.

"Come." He spoke in a voice that belied the tears. "I must redress your wound and then we may be off."

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Two torturously slow days, as they had to constantly stop to correct the litter's path, found them on the outskirts of the forest in the bright sun of the late afternoon. Aragorn and Elrohir squinted into the sun like prisoners released after centuries, bathing in the newly rediscovered joy. Elladan took a deep breath of the unhindered air and smiled too.

"We are out," he said with relief.

"Estel," Elrohir murmured, "I hear hoof-beats, get out of sight." Silently coaxing a resistant Cúdîn back into the hidden entrance to the forest, Aragorn placed Elrohir on the ground and made sure Elladan would stay with him before moving up to the edge of the forest and drawing his sword. He was taking no chances; his burden was too precious.

When seven elven warriors in Mirkwood colours rode into the clearing and turned towards his location he stepped out into their path, sword at the ready - a challenge.

"Do not be so foolish as to challenge us, man. This is not your time to die." The lead rider spoke, still settling his mount after the man's unexpected appearance.

"I challenge you in protection of those who cannot protect themselves. I would know your business here."

"We come seeking those of our kin who may be in trouble. We would have you move out of our way so that we might reach them all the quicker." With a sigh of relief, and a small voice asking him what exactly he thought they would be doing in the area if that hadn't been the case, Aragorn lowered his sword and allowed his heart rate to calm.

"You have found them too late I fear, though I am glad for your presence." He whistled for Cúdîn and he came obediently, dragging the cumbersome litter. There were cries of shock and pain throughout the ranks as the burden the horse bore became visible.

"What did you have to do with this, man?" The lead rider was suddenly upon him, his sword at his throat.

"Nothing." Aragorn hissed, not intimidated. "My bond-brothers rode with them. I came to their aid, but there was nothing I could do for those who had already passed."

"And your brothers? You speak of the Noldor twins, surely. They do not suffer this degradation."

"They are hidden in the trees, they still live but they need the attentions of a healer as fast as possible, else they will join your kin. I could not have carried them all, and I would not leave the others alone in the forest to the spiders and orcs." The rider signalled two of his men into the trees to retrieve Elrohir and Elladan.

"My Captain?" An elf shouted over from where the contents of the litter were being examined. "There are only five here, but…" He hesitated, looking away into the forest.

"Speak, edhil."

"Our prince is among them. There are two still missing, but our prince is here." All motion stopped, froze. The shock on every elf's face was obvious. Their prince was dead.

-

Seregal, Caramir and Thoron.

Elrohir seemed to think that learning their company's names and as much about them as they were willing to tell was important. Aragorn did not have the heart to deny him anything this day.

Three of the Mirkwood elves were accompanying them back to the Woodland palace while the other four rode back with the litter. Aragorn rode a borrowed horse with Elrohir braced in front of him so that he could be supported. Elladan was seated behind Seregal on his bay charger. Grimly the Mirkwood warriors rode; the knowledge forefront in their mind - they would be the ones to tell the King of his son's demise.

And who knew what his reaction would be, for who can predict a father bereft his son?

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"So you know nothing of how they are, only that they had been unhorsed?" Elrond was clutching at straws, and he knew it.

"Cúdîn and Carangil are not flighty colts to run from the slightest sign of danger and abandon their masters. We must assume there was some event. Nothing more can we assume, yet I think it best if you ride East so that you might ensure their wellbeing."

"Yes, yes. Of course." Mithrandir had never seen him so flustered. He was gathering supplies even as they spoke, and arranging them in a pack that had come to hand as if he were expecting such an eventuality. Despite the sureness of his movements, the wizard could see the uncertainty in his behaviour.

Erestor was called to his doorway and informed of the situation. Moments after he had left Glorfindel appeared to tell him that he and five others were ready and saddled up to accompany him. Erestor would mind Imladris while he was absent and the lord hesitated only long enough to apologise to his guests for missing the Midsummer festivals before hurrying out to mount the horse that had been prepared for him.

Elrond turned to look back at Mithrandir as they made to leave. He had made no move to mount up or gather himself.

"Do you not accompany us, Mithrandir?" He asked, curious at the Istar's lethargy.

"I have other tasks for the undertaking, Elrond. I will join you soon enough, you may see me coming when you look for me in impatience, as is your way." The lord harrumphed at this, but gathered his horse and turned to the gates none the less. "Fare thee well, Elrond. And have courage." Mithrandir bid his own goodbye as the group disappeared from view. "For you will surely need it in the days to come."

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Will reply to reviews in next chapter! Will miss my bus if I do it now and I figured you'd rather have this now as opposed to in five days time when I get back