'I am so high I can hear heaven,
But heaven, no heaven,
Don't hear me…'
-Chad Kroeger
The company fled the East Gate of Moria. Aragorn led them as far away as to be out of sight of the door before he would dare even slow. When they descended down the last slope of the mountain's foot he finally bade them rest and gently lay his burden on the soft ground.
Laileth had not woken since they had left the caves and this Aragorn thought was the cruelest irony. Of all the company, she was most desperate for the warmth of sunlight or the sight and sound of living things, and yet was now the only one unable to appreciate these things. Save for Gandalf.
'Gandalf' he thought. 'What an evil fortune! How will the quest be achieved now? Who will lead us?' But even as he thought it the answer came. 'You. You will lead them.' The answer gnawed at him as he began to gently examine the wound on the elf's back. She jerked suddenly as he did, causing more distress to the ranger. She is in pain. He looked up to request water and frowned when he saw six pairs of concerned eyes watching his progress. Had the situation been different he would have laughed.
"Boromir," he said instead, "there is a stream just up ahead, could you fetch some water? And we will need a small fire, Gimli." Boromir nodded and was up immediately. Gimli, though eager to help however he could, looked nervously around himself as if not sure how to start.
"Can I help you, Gimli?" he heard a small voice beside him. It was the hobbit, Pippin. "I feel quite useless just sitting here, and I know a thing or two about campfires."
"Of course you can help," said the dwarf, resisting the urge to hug him. Aragorn smiled and turned his gaze over to Sam and Merry who were fussing and fretting over Frodo. He would liked to have checked the hobbit's wounds himself, but he seemed to be in quite capable hands. His smile fades as he turned his attention back to the elf.
The orc's weapon had struck her on the left side, just between her spine and shoulder blade. The result was a deep gaping wound that most likely looked much worse than it was. Even so, it was dangerously close to many vital organs, although miraculously they didn't seem affected. Gently he began to probe the wound to make sure none of the blade had broken off inside it. His touch woke her, and she gasped sharply in pain. When he moved to see her face, he found eyes darkened with pain and sorrow staring back into his.
"How do you feel?" he asked, immediately realizing how the question must have sounded.
"Naeg…" she groaned. He frowned and looked up anxiously for Boromir's return. He saw that Gimli and Pippin were making good progress on the fire, and that Sam and Merry had finally coaxed Frodo into letting them help him. "Estel?" He looked back down. "Where are we?"
"Not far from the mountains," he said. "We needed to stop to rest and heal."
"You mean to help me," she accused. Aragorn nodded.
"Yes, you and Frodo. And we are all stricken with grief-"
"Estel. You need to go," she interrupted. His frown deepened, but she would not let him protest. "Bind my wound and go. I will slow you down, and you need to get Frodo far away from here."
"Nay, Laileth, I will not just leave you here…"
"But you must! Frodo is in danger here; the orcs will pursue us after dark. You must go." He shook his head and protested further, but the elf was insistent. "Estel, I heal quickly. If you leave me I can rest and catch up with you la-"
"NO!" Aragorn growled, raising his voice and causing everyone to look up. "No," he said, softer, "I will not allow us to be split up. Gandalf is gone, and I can no longer lean on his council, but I am certain he would never agree to this! I will not leave you here alone, injured and defenseless!"
"I am not defe-" she began, but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. She looked away. "You put him at risk," she said instead.
"So you would have me save one at the expense of another?" he countered. "'If we loose one the safety of the rest of us is weakened.' Did you not speak these words?"
"I did," she replied thoughtfully. She looked up then, hearing Boromir return with the water. "But we have already lost one," she continued, "and our safety has definitely been weakened." Aragorn sighed, seeing the grief in her eyes over the loss of the wizard, and understood. She had known him longer than any of them.
Once the water had boiled Aragorn set to work cleaning and binding her wound, moving then to tend to Frodo. Merry and Sam had done as best as they could to patch him up, and Aragorn was amazed to find that the hobbit had escaped with only bruised ribs. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint of something shining on the ground. He reached for it only to find the hobbit's mithril coat hidden beneath his discarded tunic. Frodo lowered his head and blushed in embarrassment and Aragorn held up the glittering coat for all to see. Gimli gasped in astonishment and Laileth smiled as if she'd known all along.
"Mithril!" said Gimli. Aragorn's smile widened when Frodo looked up.
"Here is armour fit for an Elven Prince!" he said, "and my heart is lighter knowing that you wear it." He finished tending to the hobbit's wounds as Pippin and Merry used the fire to make their first hot meal in a long time. Everyone was grateful for this luxury, and after they'd eaten and rested, they moved on with renewed strength. After a short argument with Laileth, Aragorn picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and handed her things to Boromir to carry. She continued to protest further, but soon accepted her situation and eventually quieted down.
It was only after they had safely entered the Golden Wood when Aragorn would halt their journey. Just inside the eaves of the great forest they stopped to rest, and only then when he set the elf down did he notice she had slipped into a healing sleep. It was just after dark and the woods were silent and watchful. Little did he know, although he may have guessed, that the trees were not the only creatures observing their movements. As the company set about preparing dinner for themselves, elven archers high in the trees watched them intently, analyzing and questioning their every move.
The leader scanned the group with wary eyes, scrutinizing each member. He saw two men, a dwarf and what looked like four children. He looked closely at each one, drawing his own conclusions about why they would trespass in the guarded wood, before spotting the eighth member of the group- an elf, unconscious and injured.
Had he known that an orc blade, and not a dwarven axe or a sword of men had wounded his kin, he most likely would not have signaled to his scouts. They would not have leapt from the trees to surprise the group and take their weapons. He certainly would not have jumped from his branch to roughly pull the dark human away from the elf who lay prone on the forest floor. The man raised his hands in a weak gesture of peace.
"Please," he said in the elf's tongue, "we seek only rest from our-"
"No dínen!" the elf commanded. His brothers and several other elves restrained the humans, dwarf, and children while he turned to see to the elf. He knelt beside her and looked over her injuries, seeing that they were grievous. "You invade our realm and now you injure one of my kin?" he seethed.
Aragorn tried to move next to Laileth but felt an iron grip on his shoulder and an arrow tip bury threateningly into the base of his neck. He watched in dismay as the leader gave orders to others, who gathered around Laileth and gently lifted her up and carried her off into the forest.
"No, wai-" Boromir began to protest, but was silenced by the elf holding him. The leader turned and glared, looking hard at each of his captives, causing the youngest hobbit to whimper.
"What do you mean to do with us?" Aragorn asked softly. The leader's head snapped up and their gazes locked for several minutes. Finally the elf broke contact, glancing to the guard holding Aragorn.
"Nodo sain!" he ordered. Aragorn had just enough time to gasp in surprise before a strip of cloth was tied over his mouth, and another over his eyes. His arms were roughly tied behind his back, and before he knew what was happening he was being led blind, deep into the heart of Lothlorien.
Aragorn felt deep sickening fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He had tried repeatedly to communicate with his captors only to be immediately rebuked, most recently with a hand across his face. Try as he might, he could not understand these elves' irrational behavior. He mused that something terrible must have happened since last he was here. He had not visited often, but the few times he had he was never treated in such a way. He may be looked on with suspicion, yes, but not anger. This, however, was not all that troubled him.
They had taken Laileth, carried her off somewhere. Now they were being led, bound as though they were criminals, deeper into the forest. He knew the others were still with him though, and that was some small comfort. He could hear the heavy tromp of Gimli, the long strides of Boromir, and though the hobbit's feet made no sound, he could hear the occasional whimper from one or the other.
He had attempted to keep track of their direction, but the elves were cautious and had led them on a confusing and winding path so that none of their captives could ever hope to find their way out. Nevertheless, he assumed that their destination was Caras Galadhon, the elven city in the heart of the woods.
After many long hours on foot, they stopped. The captives were forced to sit while the elves seemed to have some sort of meeting. Aragorn guessed, since the air was slightly warmer, that it was near midday or possibly already afternoon. Also he could hear, amid the rustling leaves, the slight silvery music of rushing water. He had to suppress a smile when he surmised the reason for the delay. They approached the river Celebrant, and even for those with their eyes and hands, it is difficult to cross. The icy, swift flowing river was a natural barrier to keep out intruders, and the inhabitants were loathe to permit anyone passage over the water. He expected they would be sitting here a long time.
After a while, the cloth over his mouth and eyes was removed. He blinked, adjusting his eyes to the sunlight, and found himself looking into the grey eyes of the elven leader. He studied the human for a moment, crouching in front of him with curiosity before looking beside him. He produced a piece of bread, which he handed to Aragorn.
"Eat this," he said in heavily accented Common. The tone and pronunciation reminded him of Laileth when she had first spoken the language, causing him to feel her loss that much more. 'She warned you to leave her behind…'
"Thank you," he said. He took the bread and bit off a piece, attempting to show some manner of trust, hoping that it would be returned in kind. The elf watched him curiously for a while, as Aragorn ate what was given to him, glancing around to see that the others were receiving similar treatment. Gimi, understandably, had quarreled with his guard, who in the end had thrown the food at the dwarf, leaving him to try to pick it up himself with his bound hands. The hobbits had meekly accepted what they were given, and Boromir had cooperated, but not without fixing the guard with a gaze as hard as steel.
"Why have you violated our borders?" the elf demanded. Taken aback at the accusatory tone, but delighted that the lines of communication had finally opened, Aragorn did not reply right away. "You will answer me," he prodded.
"I cannot say," he replied in Sindarin. He knew this was not the answer his captor would have liked, but any information about their errand would be too much. The elf blinked in mild surprise at hearing his own tongue coming from a human before hardening his gaze once again.
"I would know your purpose here before you go any further through this land!" he seethed.
"Our purpose must remain secret," he explained carefully, "although I assure you it is for the good of all Middle Earth."
"And so slaying one of our kin is for the good of Ennor?" he accused.
"She is not dead," Aragorn defended calmly, "and we did not injure her. She is one of our companions, but was injured by orcs on our way through Moria. She is Laileth, of Mirkwood." At the name the elf grew more curious, and Aragorn saw his features soften slightly. Also at the mention of Mirkwood several of the other elves looked his way. Aragorn frowned. "What is the matter? Has something happened in Mirkwood?"
"That is not your concern!" another elf, Gimli's guard, replied sharply. The leader turned to him and rebuked him.
"Hush, Orophin! Although they are still our prisoners," he turned back to Aragorn, "I no longer believe they are dangerous."
"But Haldir, they invaded our realm," said another. He was about to continue when the leader, Haldir, cut him off.
"Really now, Rumil," he said with a grin, "how much damage could two men, a dwarf and four small children do against the Galadhrim?" Rumil closed his mouth and stepped back behind Boromir. Haldir turned back to Aragorn. "So, are you dangerous?" he asked. Aragorn met his stare unflinching.
"No." The elf smiled.
"I would believe you, but we must wait until the messengers return before we continue. They go to ask of the Lady what is to be done with you."
"But why have we been treated as prisoners?" Aragorn prodded. "What has happened to make anyone who ventures into the woods a threat?" Haldir paused, as if he would not answer. Finally after a long moment he answered.
"Security on our borders has been tightened. Anyone entering the woods, even the outer edge, is too be looked on with suspicion. We can no longer take the chance that they may be hostile." At Aragorn's confused stare, he clarified. "Mirkwood has been attacked."
Sindarin:
Naeg- pain
No dínen –Silence! (no talking)
Nodo sain- bind them!