Title: Buried 7/8

Author: Pentangle

Rating: T (Major angst, mean people, physical/emotional pain)

Characters: Aragorn, Elrond, Legolas, Glorfindel, minor part by Sadoreth

Summary: Young Aragorn has a dreadful time in Mirkwood.

Slightly AU: Elrond has recently told Estel something (not all) about who he is and about his destiny.

Many thanks to my beta Niroveka!

Chapter 7

The next few days passed quickly, with Estel gaining a little strength and Elrond making copious notes as he experimented very carefully with different dosages. As he had feared, he found that reducing the dosage even a little caused Estel distress. The only time he could eat without being sick was when he wandered in his bleak twilight. He had to be spoon fed by his three caretakers. Fortunately he was very malleable when in this state, if indeed unresponsive, so he swallowed the food placed in his mouth, willingly turned his body about for tending, and made no attempt to leave his bed. At other times he muttered unintelligibly, but Legolas, watching closely, did not think he was speaking to the three in the room; it disturbed him greatly, though he was not sure why. After all, many people speak with the unseen when they are ill or injured.

At least once a day, the three consulted with each other in the hallway. On the fourth day since Estel had returned to the sick room, Legolas brought up his concerns.

"When the symptoms are upon him, he speaks with those we cannot see. He seems in greater distress at those times."

"I believe—though as I have said over and over, I cannot be sure—that the physical pains are what causes his distress of mind."

Legolas no longer believed that statement true, but did not question again. They were all guessing, and Elrond's guesses held by far the greater chance of being correct. He recalled his attention to Elrond who was still speaking.

"I think we must begin to wean him from the poppies. I would prefer that he be stronger but we are making little progress as things now stand. He is young and his body, as we know well from his numerous exploits, can withstand much. The next time his mind is aware I will explain what will happen to him, and secure his willingness to accede to our plan."

"Accede to our plan to torment him further, you mean," put in Legolas who had still not come to terms with what they had to do to restore Estel to his former health of mind and body.

Elrond sighed. "Essentially, yes. Legolas, I must have your acceptance before we begin. Not just your acceptance, but also your determination to help him and see this through. I cannot do this without your help. Do you think I want to see my son in distress and pain? He seems so much younger, lying there helpless and confused. I would go through this myself for him if I could, but I cannot. In the coming ordeal, all of us will have moments of anger and a desire to stop the process. That is what we must not do. Once we begin, we must continue to the end. Can I count on you both?"

Glorfindel shrugged. "In the past, I have followed you into the Fire with a pail of water. I will help you to save Estel. As you will."

"Legolas?"

Troubled blue eyes met compelling grey ones. "You are sure we must do this?"

Elrond lost a little of his control. "I am not sure of anything! Perhaps there is an herb in the Shire that will cure this quickly and painlessly. But if there is I do not know of it! I have thought of nothing else since I received your message and this… 'plan' is the best one I can come up with! Now…will...you…help me?"

There was a pause.

"Forgive me, Elrond. I will help you save my brother."

"And if, once begun, he screams for you to stop me?"

Shaken, Legolas whispered, "I will do as you say, even if he begs me otherwise."

That evening, as the syrup began to wear off, Elrond did not administer another dose. In the brief window between impenetrable fog and the onset of the physical distress, he prepared to speak with his son. Legolas and Glorfindel left the room so that the two could be alone. Elrond sat a long time holding Estel's hand. After several attempts to speak died before the words passed his lips, he chastised himself for cowardice and began explaining to his son what he was going to do to him.

Meanwhile, Legolas and Glorfindel conversed in the room close to Estel's that had been given to them as a place to rest, when they had a few moments to do so. After half an hour, neither could have repeated one word the other had said; they both spun around at the slight sound from the doorway. Elrond stood there with tears, and pride, in his eyes.

"Well…?"

Elrond came into the room. "He said for us to do what we must. He said that he trusted –" his voice cracked and he steadied it. "- trusted me with all his heart and that…he knew I would make him well. He told me not to worry that we must allow him to hurt so badly. He asked my forgiveness in case he said things while in pain that would wound me…He asked me to tell you both the same."

Legolas abruptly turned and stared out the window, but Glorfindel had long ago ceased to care if anyone saw his tears. He wiped them away and said to Elrond, "He will be a good king, for he always thinks of others before himself. An uncommon thing in a man or elf of his age! How have you left him?"

"I gave him one last dose for his comfort's sake, and to give us time to prepare for what tomorrow will bring. I will stay with him for a while. I suggest you two try to get some rest. There will be little chance for it in the coming days."

Estel retched into the basin his father held while Legolas steadied his shoulders. When at last he lay back weakly, his father bathed his face gently and swabbed out his mouth with a twist of dampened linen cloth. Legolas replaced the blankets meant to ward off his chills. Glorfindel took away the stones, now cooled, that had been placed against the boy's legs and feet. The second healer brought him freshly warmed stones wrapped in flannel, which he placed carefully under the covers. Estel ignored the three and spoke to the air.

"You are not real," he hissed in a hoarse and broken whisper. "You are not my brothers! I will not listen to you, I will NOT."

Legolas, although he had been vindicated, was not happy. As the long week wore on, it became obvious to everyone that the boy was tormented by something even worse than the dire physical distress he felt.

Elrond lightly tapped one smooth cheek.

"Estel, can you hear me?"

A sob. "Do I want to? Who are you?"

"Estel, it is I, your Adar, and Legolas and Glorfindel."

"Glorfindel! Why do you not torment me, as well? I am sure you hate me, too."

Glorfindel said gently, "You are our Estel. None of us hate you. We love you. You have had a place in my heart from the first time you were laid in my arms."

Legolas claimed the boy's attention. "Estel, please, do not listen to those others-"

"It is all right, Legolas. Ada…Lord Elrond will never turn away such a shining example of elvendom. You need no longer pretend to care for me."

Legolas looked to Elrond pleadingly. "Give him just a little more!"

"No." (He wondered curiously why his voice sounded so confident when his mind staggered under the weight of so many uncertainties) "We have reduced the dose by three-quarters so far. Just a little longer and he will be rid of this hell for good."

Glorfindel, as he always seemed to be these days, was massaging the limbs to reduce the effects of the terrible muscle cramps. He worked with his hands beneath the blankets and felt with anger the cold shudders that shook the young body. He had seen much, and some of it had given him nightmares for a thousand years, but he had rarely seen in one person both body and spirit so tormented. He was too young! It was too much for a man fully grown, let alone a child!

Elrond, standing on a knife edge, waited and waited and waited, his heart crying for him to dose his son again. His hands shook but his mind sternly told him he must not, not yet. At long last, he moved forward with the little horn spoon and administered a very little. After a time, the shudders lessoned to the point of normal shivering. Estel, under Legolas' sweet coaxing, drank first one tiny sip of broth, then another. His still trembling hand caught at Legolas' and he whispered, "They are gone now."

Legolas clung to the cold hand and repeated for the hundredth time, "They are always gone, Estel, for they are not real. What they say are lies; you must be strong and turn away from them to those who love you."

Estel began to slip once again into an uneasy doze. "It is so hard…..what if they are real and you are not?"

The strange world he now lived in was becoming the only one he could remember. In this place, there were two of each of the people he loved. Sometimes they appeared one at a time; at others they appeared together. He often did not know which one he was dealing with. Those were the worst times, since, for indeed, sometimes one Elrond would say how he could not bear to touch his son, while the other would stroke his brow with a love that surely could not be counterfeited. There had been some improvement in the situation, though. At least he was down to only one of each Adar. The times he had been faced with two hateful Elronds at once had been horrible beyond imagining.

Elrond drew his helpers into the hallway for yet another conference. "I am ready to end this. He will receive no more." He looked at Legolas but the blond elf simply nodded. "What I think will happen is the effects will be very severe for a short time, hopefully less than 24 hours, and then will taper off. This is the most dangerous time since we began. But if we can get him through this then it will be over. Let us turn him over to the healers while he sleeps and refresh ourselves as best we can."

With that the elves separated to bathe, eat, and spend a few minutes alone to gather their strength, and their determination that Estel would fully recover.