Title: Delw yomenie (Deadly encounter)
Characters: All Peredhels, mainly Strider, Legolas……and something/someone deadly….
Timeline: Before FOTR
Rating: T
Warnings: Cruelty and maniacal behaviour. WIP.
Summery: Our Middle-Earth friends encounter something deadly…..
Feedback: YES! Please!
A/N: Thank you Trini for beta-ing this!
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Disclaimer: I own nothing of the works of Tolkien. Neither books, nor movies. I just borrow them and try to give them back in one piece later. I make no money with this story. Please, do not sue me.
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Chapter 14 – Towards the Misty Mountains
The sky was painted red and gold, coloring the stormy clouds in the waking morning light. The gray of the thunderclouds was battling against the fresh colors of the new day, making the sky look aflame and no one could tell yet which side would win this fight.
The wetness that lingered in the air made it hard to breathe and the dew that glittered on the grass and green leaves sprinkled horses and riders as they passed them. Hooves trampled the spring grasses and the newly born flowers were crushed under heavy horses, not having the power to rise again.
The forest gleamed in the light of the weak sun and the wet branches and the dark trees made way for the riders that traveled under them. Neither did the creatures of the woods help them, or hinder them in any way. They stood aside and watched from a distance, as a group of at least ten human riders and two elves made their way through their territory.
The horses walked on, pushed forwards by their masters bidding, dutifully heading east towards the high mountains. Their tails swung in the air behind them and their heads bobbed up and down. From time to time, their hooves would sink deep into the muddy forest ground, only to be pulled out again the next second with a splashing sound.
The low sounds of their neighing and breathing lay in the still air. No other sound broke the silence that enveloped the riders and had accompanied them since their departure shortly before daybreak.
Most of the humans were watching the shadowy forest that surrounded them, their eyes watchful and their weapons ready. Five riders were at the front, followed by two horses carrying two dark haired elves and one dark haired human. Those two horses were closely followed by the next five human riders who had divided their attention between the elves and the forest.
At the front, the leader rode; his gaze forward, his ears strained and his thoughts in the present. His second-in-command brought up the rear, as he always did. Inwardly, the human hated to ride at the end of the party and would have loved to ride nearer to the elves and the ranger.
He had hoped to play his little game with them and make sure that he would win, but his captain's orders had been clear and he knew what would await him if he disobeyed his captain one more time. One more time and it would be his last.
So, the party had set up shortly before morning, the hunters eager to reach the safety of the Misty Mountains, the two elves fearing for their little brother, and the ranger himself trying his best to keep his control and to not show his brothers and the hunters how he truly felt.
But if Estel was honest with himself, he felt miserable. His body hurt almost everywhere, his shoulders were stiff and achy, his muscles tense; his head had stopped spinning and his view was focused, but his headache had increased again and was giving him some trouble. The arrow wound in his leg throbbed and sent sharp pains up his leg and side, making him want to cringe in pain every time the horse moved.
But even worse was the sensation that had enveloped his left arm. The bandages that the twins had placed there had not helped to ease the pain, on the contrary, the pressure that the bandages put on the burned skin served to elicit pain and Estel knew that the injured skin would not heal as long as the bandages stayed on his arm.
But he would not tell his brothers. Elladan and Elrohir felt better with the bandages as it gave them the feeling that they had helped him and not having to see the gruesome injury helped them forget the seriousness of the ranger's condition.
After Bauglir's visit early in the morning, when the stars were still present in the dark night sky, the hunters had ordered them out of the tent and had pushed them to the waiting horses. While Elrohir had taken Taran, Estel had been seated before Elladan, who had pulled his strong arms around his brother to hold him tightly and to make sure that he did not fall off the tall brown horse.
The hunters had packed the last tent and the remaining supplies, had extinguished the fires and thrown the ashes into the woods to cover their campsite. When they were satisfied that all was clean and that nothing remained that would tell another that they had been there, all had climbed on their horses and on a command from Dagnir, the party had silently set out into the night.
Now, some hours later, the sun was still battling the storm, but neither side had claimed victory yet, which made the air heavy and the hearts of the captives troubled and sore. Their feelings matched the nature outside, hope and worry fighting each other inside their chests and giving the troubled souls no break from their battle.
Estel sighed inwardly and tried to shift his position in his brother's arms slightly. From the long ride and the stiff position he sat in, his back had started to ache too, which made the ranger even more sore and achy. And as if that had not been enough, he had to fight the urge to break down in dry coughs, as his throat was hurting and his neck itchy.
Estel suppressed another cough, which made his chest hurt fiercely and he flinched slightly, glad that his brother could not see his face as he sat behind him. In the position he was in, riding on a horse that seemed to find every single root and log while bouncing its riders up and down and with Elladan holding him securely in his tight grip, Estel's broken rib had been jostled constantly, each time causing the ranger to gasp silently in pain.
The compressing and crushing feeling had not vanished and the human's breathing became heavier and more labored by the hour. Hel had not recognized it yet, but he was running a fever and the cold that lay like a blanket around him worsened his condition further.
Gasping in pain as the horse underneath him tripped over another root, Elladan tightened his grip around his brother's middle to keep him in place. The strength that the elf used was too much to bear for the weary ranger and Estel now openly gasped in sheer pain as his broken rib was moved.
Hearing his brother's painful gasp and feeling the human stiffen in his arms, the elf felt a jolt of worry race through his chest. Immediately he lowered his head to his brother's ear and whispered: "Estel? Are you alright?"
A curt nod was the only answer he got and not satisfying at all; the older twin moved his body as much as he could to take a look at Estel's face. What he saw made his heart heavier. The human´s face was even whiter than it was before, the abrasion on his forehead the only colorful part in his face. Sweat clung to the ranger's face and his eyes were closed tightly, pain clearly visible on the human´s tense features.
Feeling his younger brother relax somewhat in his arms, Elladan tried it once more: "Estel? What is it?" This time, the human opened his eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but it was cut short and the air escaped his lungs in a shivered gasp as the horse tripped again, causing Elladan to tighten his grip once more.
Fear crept slowly into the elf's heart. The pain that his little brother felt was caused by the sudden movements of the animal underneath him, but the ranger's injured leg was not being jostled by the horse, neither was his arm, which lay securely in the ranger's lap.
Frowning, Elladan watched how Estel's head came up, his breathing heavy and his chest trembling slightly under the elf's fingers. That was when it hit him. Cursing himself for his own foolishness, he loosened his grip around his brother's chest and as soon as he had done so he could feel how Estel relaxed even more.
Although guilt had begun to nag its way into the older twin's heart, he could not help but feel angered about his brother's behavior. Why had Estel not told him he had hurt his ribs? The night before, when Elladan and Elrohir had checked the ranger for injuries, they had not felt for any broken ribs as they had concentrated their ministrations on the bleeding wounds.
But, of course, he should have known, Elladan thought. His little human brother had a habit of acquiring broken and/or bruised ribs everywhere he went. Why should this time be different? Shaking his head slightly in the moist air, Elladan leaned towards his brother once more: "Estel, why did you not tell me?"
If the elf had been able to see the ranger's face, he would have seen the small, sad smile that flitted across the human's features. Weakly he replied: "It would have made no difference, Elladan."
"Of course it would have, muindor (brother). If I had known I would have-" But Elladan was cut short by the ranger, who had righted himself in his brother's protective grip: "No, Elladan. It would have changed nothing. It is as it is and none of us can change it now."
Another sharp pain shot through his chest as the horse moved on, hindering Estel from saying more. But it was not necessary. Elladan knew that his brother was right, there was nothing he could have done or do now. Pressing his brother more fiercely at his strong chest without causing him more harm, Elladan secured the human in his grip and gently placed the ranger's tired head at his shoulder so that he could rest more comfortably.
Feeling secure and protected in the familiar arms of his brother, Estel tentatively took another deep breath, and then closed his eyes, resting against his brother's shoulder. The homely smell of the elf's clothes and the soothing whisper that came from the twin eased the ranger's pains, if only marginally, and Estel let himself drift away from his hurts until he dozed off.
Feeling the human in his arms relax and his breathing deepen in a light slumber, the older twin turned his head and looked at his replica on the horse next to him, his eyes worried and features tense. Elrohir had followed his brother's conversation and also noticed the paleness of Estel's skin and the sweat on his brow; the fever had not broken yet.
Meeting Elladan's eyes, Elrohir did not know what to say or do. What were they supposed to do? They had bound their brother's wounds, stopped the bleeding at his leg and made sure that Estel stayed awake. How should they have known that there were other injuries despite the obvious ones? But now, as another injury was revealed, Elrohir wondered how many more wounds and hurts their little brother had sustained which they did not know of.
Turning to his twin's worried gaze, Elrohir put all the hope he still had into a tentative smile, trying to reassure his twin that all would be well and at the same time willing his brother to hope, because hope was all that was left to them. Hope in their own abilities and hope in their Mirkwood friend. The twins knew that Legolas would have followed them but they had neither seen him nor heard him and they both hoped that he was well and could keep up with them.
The last night they had not really asked him about his well being, as he had appeared well and whole, but trailing horses on foot was nothing that could be easily accomplished. Of course, the blond archer could just follow their tracks at a slower pace, but the twins somehow knew that their friend would loath to leave them out of his sight. No, Legolas would keep up with the party of riders, no matter how fast they rode and no matter what it cost him.
And so they rode on; Elrohir cradling Taran, Elladan holding Estel and the hunters brandishing their weapons, ready to fight should anyone attack them.
xoxoxoxo
It had not been easy to follow the party of riders and it was even harder to keep up with them. On and on the hunters rode, never pausing for rest or to nourish the horses and Legolas had gotten the feeling that he would not be able to keep up with them.
Now, as the day neared its middle, the stormy clouds overhead had won against the sun and the sky was painted a dark gray and black with streaks of green and yellow between. Thunder could be heard rolling in the distance over the mountains and flashes of lightening now and then illuminated the trees around him, making the forest look alive and full of motion.
The daily sounds of insects and animals had been drowned out by claps of thunder and the creatures had long fled into their holes and nests, preparing for the storm and hiding from the rains that would soon drench the forest in its wet substance.
The trees that sped past him as he moved were still and silent, their whisper had ceased and they stood quiet and waiting. Branches were unmoving, the young leaves of the spring trembling in the moist air.
All was waiting for the storm to break loose, to swallow the earth in one great gulp and to release all beings from its grip. Another bolt of lightening split the sky over the mountains, followed by a deep clap of thunder that made the ground underneath shake and the trees moan softly. Soon, the storm would be unleashed, the Earth bound to its mercy.
Legolas swatted at a low hanging branch, ducked under another and sped past some boulders. He would neither rest nor stop in his tracks. For hours he had followed the riders, never leaving them out of his sight, staying some ways behind them and being hidden by the trees and the underbrush that gave him cover.
The running had aggravated his old knife wound but no blood had escaped the tight bandages and the elf could easily ignore the pain that came from it. But what he had problems to ignore was the immense feeling of tiredness that pulled at his feet and made his movements stiff and uncoordinated.
More than once he had felt how his feet had caught on vines and had slipped in some puddle of mud, only to send him staggering on the forest floor. Feeling how his strength left him, Legolas took a deep breath to refresh himself. He knew that he had not slept for days and that he had neither eaten properly nor drunk enough to satisfy his tired body.
Elves were able to go longer without food or sleep, but even an elf reached the borders of his endurance at some point. The long trek through the night and the next day, the painful revelations that he had discovered in the camp, the painful jolt in his stomach every time he glimpsed Estel and the tension that had a strong hold over his body made the elf feel more exhausted and tired than he was happy with.
But he had sworn to help the twins and he would keep that promise, come what may. With another deep breath, Legolas quickened his steps, dodging another low hanging branch and avoiding a thicket of thorns. Thunder could be heard in the distance, coming nearer with each step the elf took and the air was filled with tension.
Soon, the storm would reach him, but Legolas was not sure which storm would come first. The one brought by nature, or the one from the party of riders.
xoxoxoxo
Night had settled over the small camp the hunters had built and the fires they had kindled illuminated the forest around them. Silent and still it was, the humans sitting quietly around the warmth-giving fires or conversing in hushed whispers.
Gray clouds loomed over them, darkening the sky even further and hiding the light from the moon and the otherwise sparkling stars that called the night sky their home. The winds that had come up chased the big clouds over the sky, making it appear alive and moving. The tree tops that stood guard over the camp high in the distance seemed to touch the clouds on their way and they waved slightly from side to side, producing dark and frightening shadows on the ground around the fires.
Leaves were whispering in the wind, conversing in their own tongue, speaking of dangers and lurking evil in the forest, creating creepy noises every time the wind rushed through them. Although the thunder had not lessened and the strokes of lightening still illuminated the night, no rain had fallen yet, leaving the world cowering in fear and awaiting the storm.
After hours of riding, without any rest or break, the hunters had finally stopped in a small clearing, near the tiny river that still flowed lazily beside them. They had ordered their captives to dismount and had guarded them while they had set up their camp for the night and had fed and watered the weary horses.
Now, some time later, food was cooking over the fires, filling the air with the smell of stew and burning wood, but it did nothing to improve the situation of the four captives. After they had dismounted, the hunters had bound the elves and the ranger's hands before them, making sure that they would attempt nothing, then had ordered them to sit near the edge of the forest under some tall and dark trees.
Now and then one of the hunters would pass the four lone figures, crouched under the branches of the trees, which would shelter them from rain but which were far away from the red, shining fires and therewith too far away to feel any of the warmth that they created.
At first, the twins had wondered why the hunters had not placed them in the middle of the camp, near the fires and in the light of them, making sure that they were visible and under the watchful eyes of their captors.
After some minutes under the tall trees, the elves had found out that their position under the trees and at the edge of the clearing was as good a place to be kept as any other. When a bolt of lightening had illuminated the surrounding area, the twins had seen that the tree line they were sitting at was very thin, only a few trees to be precise, and that the trees stood at a deep cliff.
They could not escape that way. No, the only way out of the camp was to walk through the line of fires and therewith through all of the hunters. Neither the way to their right was open for an escape, as the hunters had led the horses there and one of the humans would guard them through the night. Nor the way to their left, as high, thick bushes adorned with long thorns barred the way.
They would not be able to escape in the night, as the twins had secretly hoped. All they could do was rest and to try and regain some of their strength. So, they had settled under the trees as comfortable as possible; Taran resting in Elrohir's lap, soon sleeping deeply and Elladan sitting with Estel on the other side.
The ranger's back was resting at the trunk of a tree, his left leg pulled up a ways to his chest, his left arm lying in his lap and his injured leg spread out before him. With closed eyes the human had leaned his head against the tree trunk, trying to stop his headache from splitting his skull.
Since the time he had woken to find his brothers with him, the pounding in his head had increased, sending flashes of pain through it when he so much as moved it an inch in any direction. Over the day, Estel had thought it would get better, but then another clap of thunder had broken the quiet of the forest and his headache had roared with newly found vigor.
Now, as he sat near his brothers, protected by them and the forest, Estel wanted nothing more than to drift off into sleep and to leave the circles of the world if only for a short period of time. But he would not and he knew why. The night before he had been too tired to notice it, but during the ride through the dark mountains, a question had circled in his head, being always present and never leaving him.
Taking a painful breath but hiding the pain as best he could, Estel said softly, not opening his eyes and not facing his brothers: "Will you tell me now?"
The twins, unsure of what their brother was talking, shared a quick glance. Perhaps the ranger's fever had spiked again, causing him to hallucinate? Cautiously, Elrohir answered: "Estel, what shall we tell you?"
Opening his eyes slowly and focusing on the younger twin, the youngest Peredhel asked: "Will you tell me about Legolas?"
Elrohir's eyes widened as he understood what his little brother was talking about. But had Legolas not come to Estel's tent the last night? The twins had thought that the ranger had met the Prince during the last night, knowing that he was well and near them.
With a shock the elves realized that their brother had not known how their friend had fared and that Legolas was indeed alive and well. Placing a hand on his brother's uninjured forearm, Elrohir told him silently in the gray tongue: "Estel, Legolas is well. He was in the camp last night to free us and I think he was even in your tent at some point. Have you not seen him?"
A relieved expression settled on the youngest Elrondion's face, but it was soon replaced by a frown and a worried expression: "He is here? What does he think he is doing? He cannot be well yet."
The thought that Estel had not woken when the blond archer had been with him last night concerned both elves, but given the serious injuries and the pain he must have been in, it was no wonder.
Still speaking in the tongue of the elves, Elladan answered his brother: "Aye, Estel, Legolas is here. He surely followed us today and he will follow us tomorrow until we have reached the mountains. He is as well as can be expected. Don't worry, brother." And with a smirk that was almost natural to him, he added. "He was well enough to sneak out of the healing wing and flee from Imladris directly under ada's nose. He is well, Estel, believe me."
Not really satisfied with the answer, but relieved that at least his friend was alive, the tired ranger closed his eyes once more and rested his head at the trunk behind him. He was so tired, and the urge to keep from coughing had only increased during the day, making his chest hurt even more because of the pressure on it when he suppressed his coughing.
Elladan and Elrohir, knowing their brother for nearly all his life, had noticed the human´s struggle and, not knowing what it was that caused their brother pain, were eager to find out. Sharing a quick glance, Elladan bent towards Estel and started to open his tunic.
As soon as the elf's slender fingers had touched the man's tunic, he opened his eyes and drew back, pressing his own back at the tree and causing the leaves to shake slightly. Pushing his brother's hands away weakly, the ranger asked: "What do you think you are doing, Elladan?" Despite the tired tone of his voice and the fatigue that lanced through it, it nevertheless made clear that Estel was not pleased with his brother's actions.
Sitting back in the wet grass and crushing some leaves under his weight, the older twin looked at his human brother´s face. "Estel, you are hurting."
Staring at his brother, and then at his other brother, the ranger smiled wearily, trying to hide his body's weakness and the illness that surely spread through it. "Elladan, of course I am hurting. Have you not noticed that I have been shot?"
But the twins were not fooled easily. Estel had always hid his injuries, to disguise his human weaknesses, behind jokes or gruff statements, trying to make his wounds look small and superficial. But the twin knew that the more their brother tried to hide them, the more serious they were and having the feeling that this time was not different, Elladan looked deep into his human brother's eyes, searching for the truth behind the ranger's words.
The darkness that surrounded them seemed to have stolen the light in his brother's eyes and no spark of the usual glimmer and fire that filled the silver orbs could be seen. All that the oldest Peredhel saw was fatigue and hidden underneath that, pain and worry, but Elladan was not sure what had caused the worry.
Was his brother worried about Legolas, or about them? Elladan could not tell, but when his brother broke the eye contact and instead looked down at the ground, the older twin knew that there was indeed something lingering under the barrier his little brother had built.
Taking one of his brother's hands in his own and feeling the coldness that had settled on the human's skin, Elladan waited until his brother looked at him once more: "Estel, what have you not told us?"
The rangerl could hear the small stream that was running through the woods somewhere on the other side of the clearing. The wind was rushing through the tress, making the old branches creak and the young leaves whisper and tremble in its way. No animal could be heard but that did not mean that there were none.
The clouds that had darkened the sky were looming over him, making him feel small and unimportant compared to the power of nature and the strength that would soon be unleashed by the thunderstorm.
The youngest Peredhel had heard his brother's concerned question, but he did not know how he should answer. Should he tell them the truth? That he feared he had fallen ill with some disease he did not know? That his chest had been on fire since the day he had been dragged out of Imladris? That he felt like coughing every time he breathed? That his throat hurt more fiercely than even the wound on his leg and that his lungs and chest felt compressed and crushed? Should he tell them all that and worry them even more?
No, he could not do that. Not now. Steeling himself for what he was going to do, as he had never been good at lying to his brothers, Estel looked at Elladan and told him what the elf wanted to hear: "Back in Imladris, the night the hunters came, I broke a rib and bruised some others. It just hurts after the long ride."
Had he done it? Did his brother believe him? The ranger saw his brother's eyes narrow, then the quick glance that was shared between the twins. Then, Elladan squeezed his hand slightly, his face one of worry, but also relief: "You should have told us, muindor. We can only help you if you tell us what ails you, you know."
Patting the ranger's arm in a reassuring gesture, Elladan withdrew his hand and then rested more peacefully near his brother's side, satisfied, it seemed, with the answer he had received. Another clap of thunder shook the air and brought with it a wave of guilt that broke over the human. He had not only lied to his brother, but he had lied his brother straight in the face. The thought had he had done it to help his brothers, did nothing to ease the amount of guilt Estel felt.
Resting his head at the trunk and closing his eyes, he swore that, if he made it alive out of this one, he would never lie to his brothers again. Never.
xoxoxoxo
Some moments later, when the elves and the two tired humans had settled for the night, a figure slid out of the darkness and neared their position. The elves, protective of the humans in their midst, moved to sit slightly in front of Estel and Taran, shielding them with their bodies as much as possible.
Estel, feeling his brothers move and shift beside him, opened his eyes to see what was happening. A lone man was approaching, balancing something in his arms. As he drew nearer, he could see that it was the same man that had brought him food the other day and the ranger felt his stomach churn.
There, in the hunter's hands, was a tray full of food, more than enough to feed Taran, himself and the twins. It seemed Dagnir had decided that starving his captors was not necessary to hold them under control.
Giving the captives a filthy smirk, the human set the tray on the wet ground, spilling some of the milk and then, with a mock bow and a disgusted look, the hunter turned and went to sit near one of the fires.
Estel, eyeing the food wearily, fought for a moment against the wave of nausea that had built inside when the food was placed near him. He was not hungry, on the contrary, even the mere thought of food made his stomach sick and the ranger had the overwhelming desire to take the tray and throw it as far away as he could.
Taran however, woken from the movement the twins had made, needed to take only one look at the food to decide that he was indeed starving and started babbling in his own cute tongue. Elrohir, who still held the boy in his lap, was hard pressed to keep the boy there and to hinder the child from crawling to the food and eat it all at once.
Elladan moved towards the tray and, lifting it near them, took a look at what the man had brought. His eyes found water and milk, bread and fruits, the same food Estel was always given. Only this time, there was a little more as this time there were two more people to feed.
Seeing that the little human was getting more and more agitated, and seeing that his twin was looking more and more desperate, Elladan shot a questioning glance at the ranger. How were they supposed to feed the little boy, as Taran had never eaten much while he stayed in Imladris under their care?
Seeing his brother's look, Estel just shook his head, it would take too long to explain to his brothers how to feed the child and if he did it himself, perhaps his brothers would not notice that he himself was not hungry at all, although he had not eaten since his last breakfast more than a day ago.
Reaching out with his good arm towards Elrohir, the elf just raised an eyebrow at the ranger, not convinced that Estel was up to the task. But his brother answered him the same way; with a raised eyebrow and when Taran tried to wiggle his way out of the younger twin's arms, Elrohir handed the boy over to the ranger, who placed the boy in his lap. Taran eyed Estel for a moment, happy it seemed to be with him once again and then the child turned to the food and stretched out his little hand.
The ranger fed the boy as he had done the days before, drenching the bread in the milk to soften it and giving the boy some of the fruits. Taran ate happily, trying to play with the bread and the milk and Estel, too weary and in too much pain to stop him, let the boy have his way.
Soon, the rest of the milk the boy had not drunk was spilled over the grass, the fruits were rolling over the tray and Taran was giggling. When the boy was finally finished with playing and yawned widely, Elrohir took the child back from his brother and settled him in his lap.
Feeling the warmth from the elf and the comfort the broad chest of the warrior provided, Taran closed his eyes and after a whispered "Good night, penneth" from the elf, the boy fell into a deep and peaceful slumber.
Feeding the agile child had not helped the ranger's condition in the slightest; although he had taken care that Taran had not come near his left arm or the arrow wound, the boy had repeatedly bounced against his chest which now hurt even more than before. And he was tired. His eyelids felt heavy like lead and he had to try really hard to keep them open.
Elladan and Elrohir, who had watched their brother feed the boy, had said nothing when they had seen the ranger cringe slightly every time the little adan had placed pressure on his injured ribs. They knew that their little brother was too stubborn to accept any help and to be honest, neither Elladan nor Elrohir had the desire to feed the little amlug (dragon).
But now, as the child was asleep in the younger twin's arms, the twins wondered why their brother was not eating anything. Surely he must be hungry. The blood loss and the fever caused humans to become hungrier than usual and so, the twins waited for their brother to start eating.
When the ranger only eyed the food laying in the green grass before him but made no move to eat anything, Elladan took a piece of bread and held it before the ranger's face: "Here, Estel. We are not hungry. You have to eat something."
Swallowing thickly, the ranger's mind raced as to what to do. He could not eat. There was no way he would be able to eat the bread that his brother had given him. He was neither hungry nor thirsty, although he knew that he should be, but seeing the food before his face, so close that he could smell it, made his stomach churn even worse.
When he had fed Taran he had avoided to concentrate on the food but instead had watched the boy, but now Estel knew that there was no way to avoid it.
With a shaking hand he took the bread from Elladan, still eyeing it as if it was a deadly snake, then he took a deep breath and took a tentative bite. The bread burned in his throat and the ranger had the feeling as if myriads of sand or little stones were being forced down his throat. Choking, he tried to swallow the bread but it seemed stuck and would not budge.
Feeling the tears sting his eyes from the pain, Estel choked on the bread, desperately willing it down. Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles, and slowly, the ranger managed to swallow the bread completely. Steadying his breathing and pushing away the water that one of his brothers offered him, he let himself relax against the tree behind him, one of his brothers, Elladan he presumed, still rubbing the small of his back.
As soon as he had closed his eyes and his head had touched the rough skin of the tall tree behind him, the ranger felt his awareness drift away, as gently as the morning sun lifted the nightmares of the dark into nothingness.
He ignored the hands that gently shook him as well as the concerned voices that floated to his ears. He knew deep inside that it was a coward's way out, but in that moment it did not matter to him. All that mattered was to leave the nightmare he was in and reach the lands of peace and blissful oblivion.
End of chapter 14
Tbc asap
The next chapter is called "Games hunters play"