Okay, just to remind you of an author note in chapter 1: THIS IS NOT A SLASH STORY. I just wanted to make that little thing clear.
Now on with the story.
Traveling in place of incessant darkness, it was hard to tell if night had fallen or if it was still day; perhaps we even walked all though the night and it was already dawn. Either way, the hobbits needed rest, and despite their arrogant resistance, Boromir and Gimli were wearied as well. We let ourselves settle in a large sector beneath the great stairs that led to the City of Dwarrowdelf. The day was peaceful and we did not encounter any signs of enemies, but nevertheless, my heart screamed to me a warning of danger. We were being followed, yet somehow my eyes failed to see by who or what. I was certain that Gandalf and Legolas felt it as well, but they did not utter a word as to not ail the others. Though the air was frigid, we could not risk alerting the enemy to our presence with a fire, so we relied on cloaks for warm and on Gandalf's staff for light.
The hobbits- after having their evening supper- fell into a deep slumber, and Boromir and Gimli were long before they joined them. Their snores were most welcoming, though I must admit I was slightly worried that they may bring out to light whatever enemy was tracking us. Gandalf, too, after pensively pondering over hidden thoughts, succumbed to weariness. Legolas took watch for this night, straying a good distance away from the group to have a better view. I lay with my eyes open, watching him leave, and remembered with woe the look of fear and distrust in his eyes whenever I approached him. I knew there was more to his fear of me than me being a Man, for I have seen on more than one occasion his interaction with Boromir. He never recoiled from him and neither did he flinch from casual contact as he did with me. I must say that I could not even suppress a sense of jealousy, as I have known and loved Legolas for well over fifty years, and yet I highly doubt that anyone in the fellowship, save for Gandalf, knows of the great bond of friendship Legolas and I once shared. He tries to avoid me when he can and talks only when he must.
During our journey, he remained at the very back of the company, while I walked up front with Gandalf. If by occasion I would try to stray in his direction so that we may talk, he would swiftly run to the top of a hill or rock and peer out into the distance, as if scanning the clearing, but I knew that he was eluding me. We have not discussed the events he faced at the hands of men since Rivendell, and even then he did divulge much. I know neither who these men were nor exactly what they did to my friend, but I know that I cannot let our kinship break like this. Slowly, as to not wake my sleeping companions, I rose up from my bedroll and quietly made my way over to Legolas. Once I was far enough from the others, I made sure to make my steps more distinct, at least to be picked up by the elf's ears. The last thing I needed was for him to be startled by me, although through all the years I have spend among elves, the element of surprise has never been a weapon against them.
He did not turn around to face me, but I knew that he acknowledged my presence by the way his body visibly tensed and the way his knuckles turned white from gripping his bow as I drew near. To see this was probably more painful to me than if a spear had penetrated my flesh and found its sheath within my heart. Nevertheless I kept a straight face and came to stand by his side.
"Has the night been quiet?" I asked, not wanting to bring up the subject right away.
"Aye," he answered, still not facing me but staring out into the distance, "it has. And yet there is a presence of evil that follows us through this accursed place."
I sighed, hoping that he felt the same effigy as I and it was not me that drew those feelings. "Indeed, I too feel it."
After I uttered those words, an extremely uncomfortable silence fell between us- something that has not happened since the day we met, and even then the tension was much less than it was now. I looked at him and was greeted with a profile of a stone-cold face, emotionless, and I couldn't help but feel annoyance at his indifference, as if we were strangers who did not share a past together. Not caring about his reaction, I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Legolas-" I began, but at the contact he abruptly jumped back and his hand instinctively went to his quiver.
We simply stared at on another and within a few moments he regained his senses, dropping his hand to his side.
"Forgive me, Aragorn," he said sadly. It was in this moment that he had dropped down his barriers and I saw for the first time his true pain. I moved towards him in an attempt to lift his head up, but he took a step back away from me and raised his hands up. "Please, Aragorn. Do not touch me."
His plea was so desolate it made me angry, not with him, but with the men who did this. I was glad that we were a safe distance away from the rest of the company and I knew that Legolas was glad as well.
"Tell me, Legolas, who were these men I resemble so much that you recoil from my presence?" I asked. I did not expect the question to come out as bitterly as it did. It was more of a command than it was a question, I suppose. Legolas was silent for a while, but a gave him a signal that indicated that I was not going to drop the matter. For the first time throughout the journey, he brought he gaze up to meet mine.
He struggled for a while, as if searching within himself for the answer.
"They were Dunadain rangers from the North."
I must admit, this I did not expect. I thought he would say men of Minas Tirith or of Bree, but at this I froze. It made no sense to me. My people were of Numenorian blood- of elven blood. Even after the alliance between Man and Elves was broken, the Dunadain remained allies of those of the elven race. Legolas watched the confusion play out on my face and he seemed to read my mind. After the years we spent together, that was not unusual.
"That is what I though at first, when I traveled by their camp," he told me. "I never had trust in Men, but after I met you that all changed and I saw them as my own kin."
I was filled with a sense of guilt at his words; that I was the one who made him abandon his feeling of caution and vigilance. During that time I was not with the rangers; my mother died in that period and I went on my journeys with Gandalf. Six years. Six long years he suffered at the hands of my kinsmen, and I was not there.
"But it was not I," I told him desperately. "You know that I would never raise a hand against you."
"That's what I keep trying to tell myself. But every time you draw near I expect you to strike me. I try convincing myself that you are my friend, but my body responds to you like an enemy. For if I trusted them and I was betrayed then-"
He stopped speaking, but I knew what was going through his mind and so I finished the sentence for him.
"….Then how can you be sure that your trust in me was not misplaced as it was in them. How can you be sure that I will not plunge my dagger into your back."
Sadly he nodded in confirmation and I felt my heart harden. I looked at him with eyes that held no emotion and said to him,
"Do you wish to trust me again?"
He cocked his head a little as if he either did not understand my question or he was surprised at my sudden change in voice and manner.
"Aye," he said uneasily.
I averted myself away from him and walked over to the stone wall that stood just a few meters from us. I looked back at him with cold eyes, not knowing how I was able to wear this mask of cruelty when deep inside I wanted nothing more than collapsing beneath his feet in helplessness.
"Come to me," I commanded him in a harsh, stern voice which drew both horror and confusion from him that he tried to suppress.
Legolas did not understand what it was I had intended for him, but I expect nothing less and I didn't even ask for him to relinquish his fear of me just yet. All I needed was his obedience. Then, perhaps, I could bring back the friendship of fifty-six years that almost rend in much less than half the time. Surprisingly, I got my wish when he yielded and began to walk towards me. However, he stopped within a little more than an arm's length away from me.
"Closer," I told him and with some reluctance he took three more steps in my direction.
Slowly, I brought my hands up to the belt straps that fastened his quiver to him. His body visibly tensed and his eyes followed the motion of my hands as I undid the quiver and put it off to side. I made a motion for him to sit down, and once he did I positioned myself behind him so that his back was against my chest and mine was to the wall.
He didn't tear his gaze away from me, watching with caution my every more. I knew that I could not do anything with his eyes following me, so I reached into my pocket and removed a cloth that I quickly placed over his eyes. Immediately, he was filled with panic and he tried to get up, but I proved to be stronger as I wrapped my left arm around his shoulders and pressed him tightly against me. His body was as tense as a bowstring, and I knew that if I let him loose the arrow would fly.
"No, Aragorn, saes, please!" he begged me. "They kept me blindfolded while they beat me."
He tried to bring his hands up to remove the blindfold, but I held him still.
"Do not make me bind your hands as well, Legolas," I warned him. "You always said that my hands were that of a healer. If you don't trust me, trust them. Trust that they will never hurt you."
"I cannot," I heard him whisper in a quavering voice. "Please, do not make me go through it again."
Any other time I would have given in and let him go, for there's was nothing more painful than knowing that I was the cause of his agony. But now I was sordid, ruthless- I had to be cruel in order to be kind.
Heartlessness was the only way I could win this. I brought my right hand up front and placed it on his lower abdomen. Legolas trembled under my touch and I pressed a little harder so that he could feel the warmth of my hand through his tunic. He was cold, I could tell, not from the cool air but from the coldness inside of him brought about by fear. Very slowly and gently I moved my hand across his stomach, left to right, gradually moving it higher up his body. A few times he begged for me to stop, but I ignored his plea.
"Remember who it is that's touching you," I whispered in his ear and I continued the caresses.
I moved my hand in different patterns: lines, waves, circles. If there were any more muscles in his body that were relaxed, then now they tensed and he shivered more and more. Instinctively, I leaned more against him, for that always set him to ease before, but now it only made him worse. As I brushed my hand over his rib cage, he inhaled sharply and I realized that this must be where they damaged him the most. My hand lingered there for a while and I slowly massaged the area, moving towards his side and back again. When I reached his chest I could feel the racing heart beneath my fingers and I went over his arm, up to his shoulder. The hairs on his neck stood up when I came to rest on it. I brought my thumb to the bottom of his ear and traced it up a few times to the delicate point.
Several times I repeated this lengthy process, for what in total might have been around three hours. Unfortunately, Legolas' body did not ease. I thought that after so much time of tension, his body would tire and allow him to relax, but once again I underestimated the ability of elves. Finally, I was finished and I dropped my hand to my side. I did not release my hostage, but I did loosen my left arm to the point where he could have easily escaped if he wanted to, and I would let him. But he did not make an attempt to do so, and even though his body lost none of its tautness, his mind was comforted by my presence. I removed the blindfold- for which he was greatly thankful- and placed my other arm about his shoulders, resting my head on top of his.
"Do you remember that day by the waterfall?" I asked him after a while, the gentleness returning to my voice. Slowly he nodded. "I did not heed your warnings when we climbed upon that ledge, and being as stubborn as I was I jumped. You came in after me, but it was already too late. I hit my side against the rocks and the current pulled me under. You pulled me out of the water and carried me to a safe place where you could look over my wounds. You saved my life. That night, I awoke by a warm fire, my eyes resting on you and you smiled at me as you placed the back of your hand to my brow. It was then that you sang to me."
Legolas closed his eyes at the memory and I thought I saw single tear released from beneath the closed lids.
I sighed at this, before beginning to sing.
"How beautiful the day and night;
the earth is singing in the wind,
the voices rise and touch the sky
telling all the earth's believing,
and in the night sighs fall down,
and from the skies sighs fall down on me."
I looked over Legolas' shoulder, at his face, and noticed that he mouthed the words as I sang them. Tears threatened to escape from his eyes, but he held them back, clearly a skill he had developed well.
"And when I move away from view
my voice is singing in the wind,
it rises up to touch the sky
telling all that I believe in,
and from the night the earth shall sing,
and from the night the earth shall sing,
and from the night the earth shall sing again."
tbc...
Hope you all enjoyed! Please review.
Ella