Chapter 11
Disaster and Hope
"Aragorn, what?" Legolas turned to the man as soon as the sounds of the guards had faded away, returning to the rest of the Guard and to Elladan and Elrohir. The prince greatly feared what fate they would come to, especially after what he had seen Ralorn and his men do to an innocent man. Something had to be done, something now! Legolas was no longer willing to sit and wait. "You know how we can what?"
"Nothing," the ranger murmured softly, trying to absorb the pain in his body and push it away. It was hard to do. He was so weary, so worn... "It was nothing. I thought of a possible way to escape-"
"I knew it!"
Aragorn just shook his head. "I should not have said anything."
"Don't give me that Estel," Legolas was stern. "I don't care how crazy it sounds. Tell me."
The man sighed. He was in no condition nor mood to butt heads at the moment. "Can you hear the rain outside?"
"Of course. It has been thundering for hours. What of it?" Suddenly as he said it Legolas caught on to a flicker of an idea as something so completely obvious entered his thoughts. Aragorn only confirmed them.
"It has turned the earth around us soft. I thought that if we could remove some of the planks from the wall we may be able to dig our way out of here. We aren't far from the surface," He sighed. "... but I do not think we will make it out in time."
"Aragorn, we must try something. Elladan and Elrohir are in trouble, and we aren't much better off. I think we can do that," Legolas roamed the walls, searching for an area that seemed closest to the surface. He spent several minutes searching, listening.
"Here." He said finally, his hand placed up against the wall opposite of the door. "Right here's our best bet."
"Legolas, please," Aragorn whispered. He was in no condition to move, he couldn't help the prince; and after being used against his brothers in such a way he had again lost all his outward resistance his desire to keep trying. "I can't help you, I can't let you do this alone-"
"Be still my friend. Don't worry about it. We'll be fine." Legolas began to dig into the ground, the damp earth breaking away easily under his hands. The wood had been placed only about six inches below level ground, and soon the elf had uncovered the bottoms of four neighboring planks before moving to the ceiling to accomplish the same.
Ten minutes later, after much untried work on the elf's part in getting the wood off the wall and out of the earth, four planks were on the ground and what was once behind them now darkly visible. Pulling the top layer of rocks and earth away, Legolas with the help of a long sharp stone dug deeper into the wall.
"Legolas, don't-"Aragorn struggled to dissuade his friend, but the elf began to work faster at the sound of desperation in the ranger's voice. Finding no words of comfort, he ignored the pleas and pushed his fingers deeper into the flesh of the wall. As the elf persisted, Aragorn gave up.
The sharp stone in the prince's hand dug into the unprotected flesh as Legolas gripped it tightly and the damp soil stuck to him, turning him slowly into a sight very unlike an elf of his nature.
Aragorn was in turmoil as he watched the elf progress deeper. He hated how much he was relying on the strength of his friend, how deadly and dangerous this plan was if they were caught in the act. A part of him wished he had said nothing, but still he did not want to submit to the guards without a fight. But even if they did get out, what of the twins? How would they ever get back in without being caught again? What of Legolas? Was he just being dragged down by this? It tore at Aragorn's heart to think that if they survived it could be at the cost of another's life aside from his own. Not again. He couldn't allow that to happen, not after Valan. It would kill him! The man hesitated, caught between fear and desire; desperation and hope.
"Legolas," the questioning tone made the elf turn around from his work, watching the human in the darkness of the room. "Why are you helping me?"
Legolas removed his hands from the dirt and rocks of the wall and stared disbelievingly at the man. "Estel, why would I not help you?"
"Why are you risking your life to save me? You could be caught, you could be tortured as I was; you could be killed! Why am I worth your life?" the soft voice was gentle but pleading, wanting to understand what his mind had long since made him believe impossible.
Almost without thought Legolas abandoned the hole he had been digging and walked over to the man's right side. Elladan and Elrohir may be in serious danger and time was needed now if any help they could give would be of worth; but Legolas couldn't allow Aragorn to lose his spirit now, he couldn't allow the twin's sacrifice be in vain. Kneeling down to the muddy earth, Legolas bracketed Aragorn's head with his dirty hands, staring firmly into the silver eyes that were almost unable to return the unwavering gaze.
Aragorn flinched away from the elf's intense eyes, for to meet it with equal intensity would have been as easy as staring down his own reflection. He knew he was being foolish for asking such questions, but he couldn't help it. Recent events were making him question everything, even his friend's willingness to sacrifice for him when they both knew he could give nothing in return.
Legolas tilted Aragorn's head up, trying to catch the ranger's darting eyes. Patience won quickly and Aragorn let himself be lost in the deep, azure blue eyes above him.
Ai, the emotion that he could read in the undivided attention of the elf. Aragorn could not believe what he was reading in the open windows of his friend's thoughts, the very pictures of the elf's mind. The confused pain Legolas was allowing him to see was hard to stay under and quickly Aragorn had to shut his eyes and turn his head away. He pressed his cheek against Legolas' left palm, his breath hitching against his will again, and in moments a small, single tear squeezed out of one eye and fell soundlessly down his face, disappearing below his left ear.
Legolas' right hand was suddenly no longer supporting his head. A moment later, it was on the left side of his face and gently wiping away the tear streak before resting lightly on his cheek, his thumb moving ever so slightly in soothing patterns over the new stubble on his friend's jaw.
"Estel," Legolas' almost silent voice echoed through Aragorn's head. "Why would I leave you to die? Why would I let you be caught, tortured, and killed and do nothing about it? Why would I not consider my life worth yours?"
"But it's not-"
"Yes Estel," Legolas' voice broke slightly, his head falling down to rest against Aragorn's in a familiar gesture of friendship and love for the other. "Yes it is."
Legolas pressed his cheek against Aragorn's temple, relaxing against the cold skin and trying to hold back the tearing ache inside. But Aragorn ruined the teetering wall of resistance with a single sentence.
"You don't mean that," the soft, heartbroken words had the tone of one doubting that there was a better way to live. "... You can't mean that." His voice, hardly above a whisper, further destroyed Legolas' resisting spirit. No one could disarm Legolas' pride the way Aragorn could. No one.
Legolas collapsed; his will shattering and the fragile wall that had kept the tears back fell like rubble to litter the deepest part of his sorrow. "No," he whispered. With a shuddering sigh he turned his face closer to that of his hurting friend's; strained gulping signaled the finally released soft tears and Legolas let them come slowly, slipping down his nose and into Aragorn's matted hair. The man shook his head, trying to draw away. He refused to believe, he could not. He could understand his life being taken for the sake of the elf, but not the other way around. His life was worth the cost for another, not the price of another. The very thought broke his heart.
"My friend... I do too," Legolas' right arm wrapped itself around Aragorn's shoulders, stopping the man's weak attempts to pull back, holding and gently rocking the man back and forth against himself. "And I know you do as well. I am your friend, and you know what we share. It is something that cannot be torn and never broken, and it is something I do not take lightly because of how different we may be.
"Estel, you have been my friend ever since you fell out of that tree and into my life. You have been at my side, risking everything that you hold dear for me. Why must you feel you have so little worth when you give everything? Estel!" Legolas shook his head softly against his friend's. "No. No Estel, you are worth more than you know. A place of honor you have kept strong in my heart, but how I wish I had known sooner... from the start you have been more than a friend, but a dear brother, a guardian against my fear and pain. It's my turn now, my time to return what you have given me so selflessly."
The last of the elf's words switched to a plea for life, spoken in the sweet comforting words of the elvish language again spoken in love and not hate as Aragorn had been forced to endure here in the darkness of the earth. "Anírach únad, han cenin vi chen lín... Egor ú-erin le devi. Ú-erich o nin gwanno, mellon nin. Ú-erich leithio."
You want nothing more, I can see it in your eye... but I cannot let you. You cannot leave me, my friend. You cannot let go.
Aragorn broke inside, his heart tearing in two at his friend's words. Pain filled sobs he had dammed up inside from the beginning heaved from deep in his chest. How had he found such a friend? What made him worthy of such a gift? Legolas heard the words behind the broken whispers and began to soothe Aragorn again, his voice sounding like a soft healing wind that flowed through the trees after a terrible storm had torn apart the heart of a forest. With the reassurances came hope, resolved to reside in life and not linger close to death. It was not near completion, but the desire had found its place again.
The calming tone bit through Aragorn's pride and fed his need to be held, and just once he managed to whisper hoarsely, "I'm so glad it was you... gwannach o innen ului."
You never left my mind.
Wrapping his hands loosely in his friend's tunic, Aragorn let Legolas feel every heartache... every regret... every tear... anything that had ever consumed and eternally wounded his soul in those past few hellish days... and so deep was the sharing of pain that miles away, the Lord of Rivendell would awake to find his pillow wet with tears.
§§§
Elrond leapt up off his bed, a cry barely restrained behind his lips. For a moment he knelt there, unsure of what to make of the unfamiliar and horrifying images he had seen somewhere between consciousness and full awareness. Uncertain, but he still knew what they were.
The elf lord pressed his hands against his face, registering for the first time the tears that now stained his cheeks. It was all horrifying, so terribly wrong. Worse than the thoughts he had dared entertain before. Wisps of his youngest human son hung over his mind, brief flashes of the young man in terrible pain. Whether hung from the ceiling and beaten by men whose faces Elrond could never quite coax into view though he tried, or left for dead in the corner of a dark room, it was all the same. A heart had been broken so severely that he wasn't sure of the intensity of it or how long it had been that way, only that he knew if allowed to remain in such a state it would surely kill his youngest human son.
He couldn't take this. Couldn't sit here, waiting for an answer he feared would be twisted in a way he couldn't take. He couldn't suffer through another such image in that likeness of Estel. It would destroy him.
Someone entered his room, having heard his almost silent outcry and came to investigate. A young elf servant found Elrond sitting up on his bed; a stern, haunting look written in the shallow lines of his face and his eyes glittering with a scant look of hurt. He rushed forward in concern.
"My lord?" the servant whispered hesitantly, unsure of what to do.
Elrond didn't react right away, rather finding himself unable to move for a moment. After a moment of gaining control he did turn his head and lock his gaze with the other being.
"Yes?" despite the slight flecks of shock still unconcealed in his eyes, his voice was strong.
"My lord, are you all right?" the elf asked cautiously, not used to seeing his lord act in such a way.
Elrond could find no reassuring answer to that simple question, stuck as he was in his own thoughts. "I do not know. Please, leave me."
"As you wish my lord," the young elf answered, though he was still concerned he would honor Elrond's wishes. "If you have need, do not hesitate to call."
"Thank you," Elrond nodded and the elf left, shutting the door behind him.
Pushing off the bed and standing on his feet, Elrond walked slowly out to the door that led to his balcony. The night was cool but the wind was strong, the trees' branches flowing through invisible hands and the whispering whistle filled the darkness of the sky. Elrond walked over the veranda and leaned up against the balustrade, his eyes roving over this beautiful land but his mind a million miles away.
'Oh my sons,' he cried out softly in his heart. 'Are you all right? Are you safe? ... How long will it be before I know the truth?'
He could feel it from a distance, carried in the voices of the wind. There was pain... and there was dread.
§§§
The room was for the most part empty, holding within its bare earth walls only two stone basins. Each reached about hip level in height, standing on the far side of the room. One was filled with an ugly blackish-green sludge, and the other with clear water. As Elladan and Elrohir were bodily hauled in, Ralorn smiled slightly as he watched the twins struggle. Years of revengeful waiting were about to be justified.
The guards in charge of Legolas and Aragorn returned, quickly catching Ralorn's attention. "My lord, the prisoners are secured now. We will await your command in regards to them."
Elrohir was the first to stop his struggle and angrily look into the merciless eyes of his capturer. "Valar curse you Ralorn!"
Ralorn smiled a bit wider, ignoring the curse. By speaking first in this room, Elrohir had just sealed his own fate. Innocently, he responded as though he were talking to a mere child. "Can you still remember nothing Elrohir? I thought my messenger would help you understand."
Elrohir glared at the other's tone but froze slightly at the sound of his own name. But somewhere within his memory something twanged. He knew what Ralorn was referring to. Events of the past suddenly came to him, dark, painful and filled with heartache. Thoughts of then mixed with thoughts of now and suddenly Elrohir feared even more for Estel and Legolas. Feared what would happen to them should the twins met their end here. He feared for Elladan should they try to kill him in front of his twin first. He did not once, however, ever fear for himself.
"Ralorn, where is Estel and Legolas!" Elrohir's hard gaze couldn't be moved from the dark face underneath the hood. "They've done nothing, you must let them go!"
Ralorn smiled widely this time. "They've been taken care of, don't you fret too much. It's your own life you should worry about right now."
Elladan joined the conversation. "What do you mean, being taken care of? What have you done to them now? What else could you have possibly done! I care not for my own life, I care about theirs!" The searing, lethal tone was growing in strength as Elladan became angrier and more in realization of his powerlessness. Though usually slower to anger than his twin, Elrohir radiated the rage Elladan felt.
"That's none of your concern anymore." Ralorn removed his hood for the first time and let the twins see his face for the first time; the scars of a long forgotten fire unveiled themselves to both the twins. Grown taller and stronger, but the scars changed him so much more that they could no longer recognize the half-elf from the much younger one they had known many, many years ago.
Ralorn could see the understanding flash in the twins' eyes and nodded slowly. "You do remember. Good. It was also good of you to tell the young man nothing. It made it so much more interesting to see him succumb to fear so quickly."
"What! What have you done to him!" Elladan tried to lunge for the elf that stood so calmly in front of him, but his arms were held fast in the grip of his two guards. The memory of the wounds Estel bore would not fade away. Neither twin looked away from their capturer as he spoke next. "I swear if you've done anything more to him I'll-"
"Oh, he was useful in his own way," Ralorn said, cutting Elladan off. "Or at least should have been; more than he was." Ralorn looked quite annoyed for a moment. "He's got a lot of spirit and plenty of stubbornness to fill two more of his kind. Luckily for me I've known worse tempered horses. Besides, he served his purpose in the end."
"And that was what?" Elrohir asked fiercely, but could not hide the fear that made his voice shake.
"To bring you two to me. I've been waiting for years to get you! As for the ranger and his friend, I hope they both rot where we left them. Death is far too easy and far too merciful for the likes of any of you. One of you can go join them soon, and endure seeing their fate along with your own."
Ralorn was watching Elrohir with a malicious glint in his eye. With a short nod of his head, Elrohir's guards gripped the elf's arms tightly and pulled him to one of the basins. Elrohir tried to resist, but could not get free. His bonds were removed, and without warning one of his guards punched him hard across the head, just short of knocking him out.
Elladan let out a gasp as Elrohir's legs buckled in surprise and his eyes glassed over for a few seconds. Ralorn looked over at Elladan and glared at the fire in the twin's eyes. "Weren't you listening to me Elladan? Only one of you will get to go see your little human brother, if he's still alive." He continued pensively. "I'm not entirely sure how much humans can take."
"Ralorn, what are you doing?" Elladan was angry enough to kill the elf, but his guards and bonds kept him from really trying. He kept one eye on Elrohir in growing concern. His gut screamed that something was wrong – very wrong. "What is that?"
"I was about to get into that, since I knew you were going to ask anyway." Ralorn nodded again to the guards that held Elrohir, and before Elrohir fully came to they plunged his hands into the black-green substance, nearly reaching his elbows. It was thick and sticky, and smelled of mud and bitter ale. Elrohir tried to recoil away from the foulness it brought to him but the guards held him firm.
"This substance is something I came by only recently, from some passerby men I met on the road. Remarkable substance really. It's used for animal sacrifice, by superstitious farmers when crop years are bad. Not so much anymore though. This concoction is quite rare now."
As he spoke, the guards directed Elrohir's arms into the basin of water. In the attempt to protect his palms Elrohir clenched his hands into fists, but as it turned out he had done exactly what the guards wanted him to do. As his arms were submerged, the sticky sludge hardened tighter than a drum. His hands were now completely immobile; useless stumps. He couldn't flex his fingers nor bend his wrists.
Elrohir had no warning as again one of his guards punched him hard, this time in the gut of his stomach and removing all air from his lungs. As Elrohir struggled to breathe, they forced his head into the unknown substance. Elrohir ripped his head up, his face, hair, and neck covered with the mixture, fighting violently now to get away.
"I've been waiting to use it, just for you. Don't worry Elladan, you won't have to suffer your death as easily as this, but you will stay here to watch your brother draw his last breath. That is... if he could."
One guard slapped a handful of the mud into the twin's face and Elrohir's head was forced under the water. As before, it sealed in the measure of a few breaths. Momentarily weak from the unexpected punch in his gut, Elrohir hadn't even been able to suck in one last breath to hold in his lungs. The guards let go of his arms and he collapsed to the ground, desperately trying to pull the mask off his face but his hands were useless to help free him. He could find no air. Panic filled the elf. He was suffocating!
"Elrohir!" Elladan screamed at the twisting, writhing figure of his twin fighting for air on the ground, but Elrohir's guards came to help restrain him. Elladan barely registered they were there. He had promised they would be all right! He had promised! Why was everything turning against him!
Now held by four elves, Elladan worked himself into a rage that shamed a consuming fire. Roaring like one possessed and lashing out in anyway he could, he fought all four guards, but he could not get free! Could not help his brother.
He couldn't even take his anger and pain out on the one that caused it all.
After about a minute Elrohir's struggles were fast becoming weaker and slower. He knew he wasn't getting out of this by himself, and all help had been cut from him. He could faintly hear Elladan's fury through his death mask and tried to answer him, but with no way to speak he had to suffer through his silence. He wanted to tell his twin that he should not worry so much... to worry over Estel and Legolas... he wanted to tell him he loved him before passing on... but he couldn't. His head grew light and his limbs heavy. His erratic heart-rate began to slow.
Elladan turned fiercely burning, tear-filled eyes to Ralorn. "How could you do this? What gives you the conscience to do such a thing!"
For the first time, Ralorn's face lost some of the hardened edge though his eyes were still filled with ire. "Parhaps now you can see and understand what your actions did to me, right before I left Rivendell."
"No Ralorn, you hit my sister! What would you have done if she were yours! Please, don't kill my brother!" Elladan had tears falling down his face, uncontrolled and yet muted, downcast with heart-stopping pain. He was ashamed of his weakness, but it was all too much, just too much!
"That was only the final action, but there is much more!" Ralorn's eyes grew cold and hard again. "And you have done this very thing to me! You, who proclaim to be good, to protect and defend the innocent.." he laughed harshly at the thought. "I do not believe such lies. I know what you both are; you have shown me what you truly believe inside. Cold... heartless... murderers!" he bit out every word with distain. "Destroyers of what I used to believe in, of who I used to be, and you didn't even know it, didn't even care! And I swore you would know my pain. You were going to know the long, cold, endless nights I had to endure after the fire and after I was left alone. And now you do understand what that was like, don't you? I'm going to make sure you understand as I did when you took my life away, when I started to suffocate as he is!"
Elladan turned away, memories flashing through him again, and once again concentrated on his fading brother. Ralorn didn't move, watching them both closely.
"Elrohir, no! No..." Elladan's fight was growing weaker as he watched his twin move slower. Tears fell silent down his face as he watched Elrohir struggle to stay conscious, but all too soon his twin ceased to move, and lay silent on the floor.
"NNNNOOOOOO!" at a signal the guards began to wrestle Elladan out of the room. In the end the eldar elf had to be picked up and carried in order to get him to budge, though he was no small task when attempting to hold him down. "NO! YOU CAN'T TAKE ME AWAY FROM HIM!"
There was a strange thudding in his head, one he couldn't quite discern the cause as of yet. It sounded oddly like a heartbeat, drumming low and deep within him, growing slower and weaker as the moments passed.
Somewhere in the darkness he was in, Elrohir heard Elladan and struggled one last time to rise, but the lack of air had all but destroyed his senses and his lightheadedness pulled him down before he even reached half way. He fell forward, smacking his face against one of the stone basins. It probably would have been forceful enough to break his nose, but the hard mask took in the full impact and left him unscarred. A strange calm washed over him as his head rolled to the side.
All sounds of boots and cloaks faded away, leaving him alone. He stopped moving, allowing anyone that may still be there in watchful silence to believe he was already dead. He let his body relax as darkness reached out to swallow him whole, his head spinning from lack of oxygen.
The last thing he barely heard was Elladan again crying out his name, the sound echoing through the cave's paths.
"ELROHIR!"
His world had faded completely now. Elrohir was gone.
§§§
"Almost there..." Legolas whispered. He had resumed his job and had been digging for hours with desperation beyond words, but he was so close now! The tunnel he had created was over fifteen feet long and he could feel the ground grow softer under his touch. The rain outside was coming down so heavily that now because Legolas had removed the supporting back layers of the surface, what was left in the obstruction in front of him was literally melting away on its own.
"How far?" Aragorn's quiet voice echoed up to lightly touch Legolas' ears.
"I think-" Legolas cut himself off, jumping suddenly in surprise as the earth broke away to reveal a dark world just within his grasp. The sun wouldn't be up for a few hours and the air was choked with falling water, but to breathe free air again! Legolas was immediately exhilarated by the feeling. "-I'm done!"
Aragorn tilted his head toward the hole. "You broke through?"
"Yes!" Legolas rammed his upper body into the thin layer that remained, creating a hole at the top large enough for him to crawl through. Clumps of mud fell around him and in front of him. Rain cascaded down his face, hair, and shoulders, taking with it the debris that caked his skin as well. He sighed with relief. Why anyone would choose rock over tree was beyond him. The feelings of suffocation and loss left his heart and the song of the trees replaced the pain.
Backing up slowly, Legolas again entered the room and made his way to Aragorn's side, sifting through the layers of loose dirt and mud he had removed. Again lifting the man up into his arms carefully, he smiled. "Let's get out of here."
Aragorn nodded wearily, but eagerly.
Getting out wasn't easy. The tunnel was only large enough for one person to fit through at a time. Aragorn was eventually forced to struggle through on his own, crawling painfully slow with his arms protesting violently and his back and legs nearly useless. But with Legolas' constant encouragement even he found the last bout of strength to make it through.
Once outside, he lay flat on the ground on his stomach, energy gone, and breathing in the sweet smells of the wet world around him. The rain cleansed him, washing away the blood from his body as Legolas once again entered the tunnel to block the hole from the inside with the heavy planks he had pulled out. He didn't want their method of escape to be too obvious, though the mountains of mud in the room would probably hint some idea whether he liked it or not.
When all was done, Legolas left the earth for the surface and knelt by his friend's side. As he did so, Aragorn turned his head and locked his gaze with the elf. Legolas wasn't sure what he read in the look in the man's silver eyes, but he could recognize the immeasurable gratitude that filled them, and Aragorn smiled for the first time since they had been reunited.
The rain still fell with a fury and they were both quickly soaked. Legolas lifted the ranger gently from the ground and held him closer for a moment, touching his forehead to the man's. No words were spoken, none adequate enough to express what either felt inside, but in the silence of the unspoken conversation, understanding was perfect. Lovingly shouldering his friend, Legolas fled into the cover of the woods.
00000000000
It took all of Ralorn's men to restrain Elladan, for the elf twin seemed to have lost all control. They took him to a similar room as what they kept Aragorn and Legolas in, restrained him in chains connected to the ceiling, and proceeded to teach Elladan prudence in their own way.
Elladan however, was barely touched by that world. He was not wandering toward Mandos' halls but in another realm entirely, one were he could see and touch nothing, but he could both feel and hear the strange thudding in his head that now had a name – Elrohir's heartbeat.
After they had taken him away from his twin, Elladan could still sense his brother's life. It had faded, even stopped for a minute, but now it was gradually returning in rhythm and strength. Elrohir was alive, he was sure of it. The others may have considered Elrohir dead, but Elladan would not... not yet. He could feel the life of his twin almost as acutely as his own.
Though Elladan's mind was far from where his body was, he still fought against Ralorn and his men. His spirit raged against them, unbroken and unbridled, and despite the face that he was chained he played them at their own games with his own. They couldn't break him, he had taken his mind away and existed in a place outside their control.
Ralorn was in a dangerous mood. With one twin supposed dead and the other completely incompliant, it was like beating a dead horse. This was not something even Mayroniel had control over. When Elladan had taken his mind away as few had the mind power to do in such extreme circumstances, they had lost their chance to make the elf twin suffer through the abuse they now let loose on his body.
Elladan knew they were physically hurting him, trying to bring him back so they could make him suffer, but he refused to let go of the realm he had found where he was safe and constantly assured of his twin's presence; not only here but in life, and that knowledge was enough to keep him alive.
§§§
Aragorn had already fallen to unconsciousness. His head rolled lifelessly against Legolas' shoulder and neck, his body chilled to the bone from the rain. Legolas had long since wrapped the man in his cloak that had miraculously not been taken from him, and carried his friend close as he searched desperately for a place to take shelter.
Unharmed by the rain but none the less affected by it since he no longer wore his cloak, the elf could feel cold slowly creeping into his body and he walked. It had been well over an hour, he needed to get his friend out of the rain fast.
'Come on,' Legolas whispered as he stopped a moment to look around. 'There were so many outcroppings on the way, why can I not find one now?'
Another fruitless glance around brought him no results. Legolas sighed in frustration. The only way to go now if shelter was to be had was down the mountain. The elf shifted the human in his arms so he would be more secure and began his precarious journey down the slick, muddy, dangerous trails.
Mist ghosted over the edge of the land, covering the ground in a blanket of transparent white. The rain was harsh; thick fat drops fell from the sky with such intensity that Legolas knew it wouldn't stop anytime soon. Heavy bolts of lightning filled the sky. It was dangerous to be out in this weather, but to be in the thick of it was madness.
Another brilliant flash of light tore through the sky, and in that brief moment Legolas spotted an outcropping nearly fifty feet away from where he stood. Sighing in relief, Legolas shifted Aragorn again and made his way swiftly to the natural hollow.
The hollow was about twenty feet deep into the mountain, but everything underneath the shelf was protected from the storm, the ground completely dry. Layers upon layers of fading plant life cushioned the elf's light tread, the combination of leaves and the strong smell of pine comforting. Legolas walked to the back of the hollow, searching for any danger but finding none. They had upset a family of field mice and a fox scampered away, but the elf could sense no threats.
With the care he had not lost, Legolas laid Aragorn down in the bed of soft undergrowth, unwrapping the cloak that was now soaked through and useless. As the cloth left the man, Aragorn began to shiver more violently in his delirious slumber, now more exposed to the outside air and it did him little good.
"Hang on Estel, the cloak is soaked, it will do you more harm than good now," Legolas whispered as he gathered dry tinder to build a fire close to the man. Sparks grew to gentle flames, aided by the elf and the quick increase of dry wood. Soon Legolas had the interior of the hollow filled with a bright light that had nothing to do with the lightning across the sky.
For the second time that night, Legolas checked Aragorn's injuries and vitals. The man wasn't doing well. The mud had stopped all blood flow, but the injuries were still in desperate need of better care and the ranger was now in the beginning throws of a deep-set fever. Legolas had nothing to give, nothing to aide the man anymore than he already had. Legolas gently pulled the cloak our from under his friend and shook it out near the fire to dry.
The cloak dried quickly. The light, but sturdy material was of elven make, strong and reliable at need. Once Legolas could feel no dampness and only warmth from the cloth, he again wrapped it around his friend's body. Aragorn stopped shivering so much, but Legolas could sense the man's body slowly failing.
Aragorn's breath was rough, short, and shallow. Legolas lay down behind him and gathered the man's upper body into his arms, trying to infuse some life with his touch. But he was trembling as he did so. Aragorn's breathing evened out as soon as he felt the arms wrap around him, but still, it was not enough. Legolas shut his eyes against the press of emotion that threatened to betray him. It was not supposed to be this way... it should never have to be this way.
The slapping of the rain outside became gentle and soothing to listen to, nearly putting Legolas to sleep. Yet he fought the urge. The elf was determined that if he could offer Aragorn nothing else, that he would be there until the end.
Time faded from his mind again. Dawn was still several hours away but the moon shone brightly this night, the clouds receding slowly on to other ranges under the press of the wind. The storm was losing its intensity, the thickness of the rain fading to a gentle drizzle. Aragorn continued to burn with fever, and though Legolas had an unending supply of water at hand, the man had not woken in a long time. Legolas continued to hold him close, watching the black sky above his fire, but it was several minutes before the elf noticed the wetness of his face that had nothing to do with the mist in the air.
A short while later Legolas was broken out of his revere... there was a new sound now, a new presence amidst the rain that the elf readily knew to be some intruder. Someone was coming close, and they were not alone. Legolas made to get up, but he hesitated. He didn't want to move, he wanted to stay, but something tugged at his mind, urging him to go seek out the source of what he felt. The pull did not leave him and a bit unwillingly Legolas left his post, silently praying to the Valar that Aragorn would still be in this world when he returned. Leaving Aragorn's side, Legolas walked to the edge of the lip over his head and peered out into the world around him. Below where he stood there was nothing out of the ordinary, but above there was. The dark of night and the ever falling rain obscured his vision a little, but Legolas could still see what he had sensed in the hollow.
It was like a physical creation of a dream. Two horses were walking slowly toward the hollow; one riderless, the other was not. The rider was wrapped in a cloak, the face obscured entirely, but the horse that was following with no rider Legolas recognized, and his heart leapt into his throat.
"Silme?" he whispered, surprise and sheer shock taking him for a moment. He shook his head, looked again. It was her. It was Silme!
"Silme!" Legolas called out the mare as he leapt from the cover of the hollow. He slid a little on the muddy ground but the elf didn't let that stop him. Seeing Silme alive meant many things to him, but mostly it meant a possible chance for Estel.
"Legolas!" the rider called out to him now. The being sounded as relieved as Legolas felt and quickly dismounted, throwing back the hood that had shielded all features. The rider stood next to a tall white stallion upon which the being had be riding, waiting patiently for the elf prince to recognize more than just his horse.
Legolas stopped dead. The rider smiled at him gently, all features now clear. Legolas stared, knowing who it was and surprise took him again. Of all the people he may have expected, she was the last one Legolas would have looked for here...
"Arwen?" Legolas stood not thirty feet from the elf-maiden, amazed. Arwen smiled even though it did not touch her eyes in full, nodding in confirmation. There was a story behind here presence, Legolas was sure of it, but at the moment that was the last thing on his mind.
It was now Legolas' turn to surprise her. Once his initial shock had released him the elf rushed forward again, reaching the girl in seconds and throwing his arms around her. Legolas had never been more relieved to see someone, his tears concealed by the rain.
Emotionally weary and travel-worn though she was, Arwen responded in kind, embracing the prince and holding him tightly. They had known each other for so many years; they were less like friends and more like brother and sister. It was with such respect between them that they could greet in such a way.
Legolas pulled back and shook his head at her, still in shock. "Arwen, I don't know how you are here but I am so glad you are."
Arwen's face was full of both suffering and relief. "I've been looking for you ever since I found Silme. She told me you had been captured, but when I returned to the cave you were no longer there." She looked up at him carefully. "I had to be careful, I've been a part of the guard but Ralorn knows now that I have betrayed him."
Something snagged in Legolas' memory, bringing him back to his brief discussion about a certain guard with Gowen. Pieces of the puzzle began to appear and fit together. "But then you...?"
"I was known to them as Arahil." Arwen nodded heavily, much still weighing on her mind. "I joined the guard in secrecy to protect Estel." Her face fell slightly, caught for a moment in the remembrance of her failure.
"Don't worry Arwen, I have Estel with me and he lives still." Legolas was brought back to the present need, and a near frantic desperation raged in him again. "It is so good to see you! Silme still retains all of the provisions I gave her to bear-" Legolas smiled approvingly at the mare. "I feared I would find no help, but if we hurry Estel may still have a chance."
"He is with you? He lives still?" a rush of hope filled the elf-maiden's eyes. She had long since feared she had lost the one she had been trying to save. She feared Aragorn had died – so hurt and alone. To find it was not so was like water on her parched spirit.
"Yes, he lives still, if only just. Please, come help me." Legolas beckoned her to follow him back to the hollow, leading the horses forward.
The hollow was barely deep enough to hold them all. Legolas settled Silme and Asfaloth near the entrance, speaking to them softly. It would be some time before he and Arwen would be able to care for them, so he bid both horses be patient. Asfaloth nickered softly at him and Silme playfully nipped his shoulder. They both would wait, they understood the need that drove the two elves in regards to the one who had been injured. Legolas removed all his provisions from Silme's back, patting her again before returning to Aragorn's side.
Arwen had knelt next to Aragorn's head, staring down at him in a mixture of open horror and disbelief. Guilt rose into her throat, cutting her off from speech for a moment. At one point she reached out to touch him, but her hand refused to get too close. Memories of what she had seen and what had happened the last time she had touched him held her back like a chain.
Legolas easily noticed the change that had swept over the elf-maiden and called out to her softly as he too knelt on Aragorn's other side. "Arwen? What's wrong?"
Arwen seemed to snap out of her daze. "Nothing. It's just... I thought..." she didn't seem to be able to continue.
"I know," Legolas whispered as he unloaded his pack. "When I saw him for the first time, I felt the same." He pulled out a tightly woven pouch with a screw-cap on the top and shook it carefully, listening to the contents slosh around. There were not regular herbs in the pouch but a thin clear colored mixture called Tordol.
"Arwen," Legolas held the pouch out so she could see it better. "We need to stabilize him for pain and the swelling before taking care of his wounds. I have Tordol with me, it will help with both, but we have to administer it to his mouth, under his tongue. He can't swallow it; it must be absorbed and carried directly to his bloodstream."
Arwen nodded, understanding the method. The bottom of the mouth was like a sponge; often it was the easiest to stimulate a patient that way. The Tordol would be quick acting and very powerful. "What do you want me to do?"
"Help me hold him upright and keep his head level while I give him the dose slowly. It shouldn't take long."
Arwen nodded, and with Legolas' help, propped Aragorn up against the hollow's back wall and held his head while the prince administered the Tordol. As soon as the medication touched his tongue, Aragorn stirred drowsily and opened his eyes.
"Hello Estel, how thoughtful of you to join us," Legolas whispered as Aragorn turned blurry eyes to his friend. Unable to react for the moment, he allowed Legolas to give him the Tordol.
The man winced at the taste, but Legolas shushed him before he could do anything stupid. "Relax Estel, it is Tordol, just hold it under your tongue and let it help you."
Aragorn shut his eyes and did as Legolas bid him, letting the powerful mixture of herbs stimulate his body as it slowly dissolved from his mouth. After a few minutes and several small doses later, the ache of his body began to fade from his mind. Legolas quickly finished the correct dosage and stowed the pouch away in his pack.
As Legolas' attention was elsewhere for the moment, Aragorn realized then that it had not been his friend holding him up. Looking over to his other side, Aragorn found himself staring straight into the familiar grey eyes of his guard. His vision wove in and out of focus, he could not tell immediately that Arwen was there and not Arahil, though the two where the same and the differences where not strong.
"Arahil?" he whispered, his voice rough. His brow creased in confusion, trying to figure out how the guard was here. Or better yet, why he was here. The escape he and Legolas had pulled off still eluded his mind though he tried to remember what had happened.
Arwen shook her head slowly. "No Estel, I am Arahil no more."
Aragorn starred at her strangely, understanding slowly entering his eyes. "You told me... not to guess who you were, but... I knew... I had seen you before..." he paused, gathering his wavering breath.
"Arwen," he said softly. "It was you... Arwen."
Arwen smiled softly at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Forgive me Estel, I tried to protect you, I wanted to keep you from harm... please, forgive me my failure..."
Aragorn only shook his head at her, shutting his eyes in a moment of contentment, the mystery solved. "Shh... you already saved me... you have nothing to... mourn for..." he tried to move his arms, but his shoulders where numb and the limbs were only dead weight now, but he continued to sooth in the deep raspy tones of his voice. "Shh... Shh..."
Legolas joined them then, quietly so as to not disturb either. Arwen glanced at him anyway, her face lined with tears but a light had entered back into her eyes. She had not yet forgiven herself, but she was less tense seeing that Aragorn bore her no ill will. Just before she allowed Legolas to lay the man back down, she leaned close to the man and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Thank you Estel," she whispered to him, her appreciation clear.
She and Legolas gently laid the ranger back down on the ground, and Legolas tossed Arwen a soft cloth and a sponge, along with a roll of bandages. "Wash the mud away," Legolas instructed her gently. "It was all I could use in the caves and it helped stop the bleeding, but it cannot remain there for much longer. When you uncover a wound, dress it appropriately. He has many that we must take care of."
Arwen nodded, brushing the tears away and taking up the cloth that had been given to her. Using the rainwater falling from outside the hollow, she and Legolas washed the mud away from the ranger's body. Cuts and bruises were uncovered one by one and cared for; cuts sewn up if deep enough and wrapped up to protect from infection, bruises bathed in liniment, bones reset in place and splinted. His shoulders were wrapped to keep them steady while they healed. The whip marks on the man's feet were washed clean, treated for infection, sewn in appropriate places and bound tightly in bandages. Both elves where gentle and Aragorn remained awake through the entire ordeal, though most of what they did escaped his normal attention, his body taken care of by the Tordol. When Legolas expressed his concern about clothing, Arwen dug through her pack and came up with a dark green tunic and leggings that she had borrowed for her trip that seemed to be just about Aragorn's size. The clothing was loose and soft, a comfortable fit and once all the wounds had been cared for they redressed him in the light elven material.
Legolas shook out his cloak and laid it on the ground near the fire, laying his friend on the thick fabric and covering him with an extra cloak and blanket Arwen drummed up from her belongings. As he was laid to rest at last, Aragorn fell to slumber, his breathing easier.
"We'll have to keep him on Augmentin until we can get back to Rivendell, which should fight off any infection until he can be better examined," Legolas said to Arwen as they cleaned up the hollow. Arwen knew Augmentin was also a powerful herb, wonderful for destroying infection without damaging anything else. She was impressed however, with Legolas' knowledge of the drug, and not only that. The entire treatment had been lead by him; she wondered where he had learned it.
"Legolas, where did you learn all this about healing? I had no idea you knew so much about treating victims so severely beaten as this. Where did you learn it?"
Legolas became more subdued as he repacked his pack. "I've just become good at it. Most of the hurts Estel took could easily be repaired, the rest I learned from watching your father." Though he was proud of the fact that he could help his friend thus, he did not like the healer's role and he knew now that he never would. It was bad enough having to care for the ones he cared about the most, it was not something he looked forward to in the slightest.
"I do not enjoy being the healer. There is so much pressure in doing the right thing, knowing what to do and how to do it. My fear is that there is something more ailing Estel that I cannot sense, much less take care of. I will feel much better when we can deliver him to more capable hands." Legolas shook his head. "I learned all I could from your father about extensive injuries such as many of these, but I lack the talent to find what hurts have been taken within."
"You've done your best," Arwen whispered to him. "And if you had not known what to do, where would Estel be? He would not survive a trip through the mountains so unstable. Do not fear for him, you have already saved his life and I know he will be all right."
Legolas looked back up at her and smiled. "Thank you. It is good to know you have confidence where I do not."
Arwen nodded at the thanks and began cleaning up again.
Now that Aragorn was out of critical danger, Legolas and Arwen turned their attention to their horses. For the next several minutes they relieved both of their burdens and brushed both animals dry. Legolas led Silme to the back of the hollow where there was more break from the wind and rain, stroking her fondly.
"Thank you," he whispered to the mare. If it had not been for her and Arwen, Estel would have perished this night. There was no doubt in his mind that it could have very well ended up that way. Silme accepted his thanks and nuzzled him back, standing straight and tall now that she was dry and all weariness gone.
As Legolas turned around, he discovered Arwen to already have found asleep. Not two feet from Aragorn's left side opposite of the fire, she had curled up underneath her cloak and burrowed down into the leaves. Her raven colored hair spilled down behind her head and framed her face. Eyes half open and the weary lines fading, she looked peaceful.
Legolas glanced back out of the hollow before laying down himself. The rain was easing up even more and there was only distant rumbling now. The storm would surely be over by dawn and the thought cheered him a little. Then it would be much safer to travel, and parhaps even easier to make a decision about what to do next. His heart clenched at the thought of the twins still trapped, but he could do nothing for them now, he had not slept and after all he had done his body needed at least the few hours before dawn. Parhaps with Arwen here, he could leave her to take care of Aragorn and he could return to the cave... find a way to set the twins free... get them all out of this nightmare.
Legolas settled at Aragon's head, throwing a few more logs into the fire and staring unseeingly into the growing flames. His time with Estel was growing short, in the morning he would most likely leave the man behind. After all the time he had spent now fighting to protect the ranger, it was a bit difficult to suddenly switch the roles. A few minutes later the prince lay down on his side and like Arwen burrowed into the comfortable plant life that covered the ground. With one hand though, he reached out and gently placed it on the side of Aragorn's face, feeling both the feverish heat but the life in the man's body. Lifting up to one elbow, he brushed the ranger's long hair out of his face and let his fingers weave into the unruly curls. He couldn't sleep; he could barely believe his friend was still breathing and his heart was close to bursting. For a few minutes, he felt, he could just watch the man sleep.
Minutes later found Legolas asleep too, his head having fallen right next to his friend's, upside down in regards to Aragorn's, his hand still trapped in the ranger's dark hair. Not knowing what tomorrow would bring, it was comforting to just be together.
About a half hour later, there was something new in the sky that was neither wind nor rain. Dawn was still a ways away, but a small falcon did not let that stop him. Cold, wet, hungry, and lost, Celebnar was searching desperately for the elf he had come to regard as not only a master but a friend. He flew high in the sky, but he was weakening and his body was slowly succumbing to weariness.
Then he heard a horse whinny a short distance away. Celebnar turned to it, knowing that if he found the horse he would most likely find shelter as well. About two minutes later, he spotted a white-grey mare in the distance at the entrance of what looked like a hollow. Celebnar called out to her, his voice shrill but weak. He made a bee line for her, reaching the hollow's opening in record time and landing in a heap at Silme's feet.
All the beings within were sleeping still, but Silme had woken briefly for some unknown reason. Wandering out to the open air, she breathed in deeply of the cold air and relieved the slight stuffiness of the hollow that had filled her lungs. It was in the open that she had seen the little falcon, and knowing who he was she had called out to him, guiding him to shelter.
Celebnar was breathing hard on the forest floor, not even moving from where he had landed. His beak was wide open and his eyes slits, his breast pumping heavily for more oxygen. Silme let her head fall and nuzzled the bird with her nose, trying to get him to stand up again and get out of the last of the falling rain.
The falcon looked up at her with trusting eyes, and in a burst of forced energy took flight again, landing on the mare's back. Silme took her precious burden back into the hollow, stopping near Legolas' side. Celebnar left her back and landed on the ground near the elf, his breath still heavy as he walked forward. Before he got too far, he turned around and trilled gently at Silme, thanking her in his own way. The mare grunted and turned around, walking to where Legolas had left her and swiftly falling back asleep.
Celebnar walked right up to Legolas' side and pressed close to the elf's body. The falcon was soaked from the intensity of the rain and his time searching for the elf after he had flown away in fear had pressed his abilities. Shaking himself repeatedly and sneezing in short, little huffs, the falcon attempted to care for himself as he was used to doing.
It was during this time that Legolas awoke, looking over Aragorn's head to the little falcon that had taken up homestead next to his stomach. Legolas smiled. "Celebnar, you came back." he whispered, reaching over and patting the falcon softly, an action that pleased the little creature very much. Celebnar sneezed again and made another attempt to preen his feathers.
Legolas let him have his way. There wasn't anything he could do to help Celebnar dry off; all that he could have done was already in effect. The fire still burned bright and hot and the elf's own body heat aide d the bird now. Legolas settled back down again, a smile spreading over his face as he played with a single lock of Aragorn's hair between two fingers.
He now knew what to do.
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It was the oddest sensation, centered around his nose and the rest of his senses momentarily paralyzed. This was not how he expected Mandos' realm to be like. Elrohir literally could not move; though his body was gradually returning to his mind he had no control over his limbs. After a lifetime of freedom this was momentarily terrifying.
The sensation came again slowly, then faded, then began again before Elrohir realized what was happening. He was not dead, he was still stuck in a lonely mountain cave, and while the deadly mask was still attached to his head, he could breathe. Air was filling his lungs and his body responded naturally to it through a single crack over his left nostril, allowing him freedom he was not intended to have. Elrohir figured the mask must have cracked when he slammed against the basins however long it was before.
As soon as he realized he could breathe, Elrohir sucked harder, wanting more. The crack closed off at once, cutting his supply. Elrohir choked underneath the mask and almost blacked out again.
'Slowly,' his starved brain urged his body. 'Breathe slowly.'
Elrohir stilled his body and allowed the air to enter his lungs naturally. Sweet, clear air filled him, replacing the stale emptiness that had once been there. But more, he needed more! He sucked too hard again and the mask sealed again. Slowly, just breathe slowly. How frustrating it was to breathe this way, but to breathe in too hard and receive none at all!
Finally Elrohir learned patience in this, training his body to take in air only naturally and for several minutes he satisfied his lungs, removing the fogginess of his mind that had grown dangerously thick. His mind cleared, and he again began to regain the power over his limbs. Elrohir dared not move too far from where he lay, 'lest someone returned and discovered him alive. Time blurred into space and after a while he turned inwards, searching. There was a pull on his spirit that became stronger as his mind awoke more, an unspoken plea in a strange place.
He found Elladan.
Elrohir could sense his twin as acutely as Elladan could sense him. Elrohir could sense as well Elladan's physical torment and how the eldar fought back against it, but also how Elladan had withdrawn his mind, seeking and finding solace here. Soon Elrohir could feel Elladan so deeply it was as if he was right there next to him.
For a long time they stayed together thus in a realm only few knew the value of. The twins drew and expanded both strength and will from each other, infusing hope and life. They knew they would need it, for without it they both would be lost. So much had happened already that devastated them both, but there was much more to come that they both needed to prepare for, and now may be the only time. For the safety of themselves and the ones they cared for, it was what they needed the most.
Elrohir suddenly sensed their time together was drawing to a close, but as for why he was unsure. He felt that soon it would be the time to act, the time to fight back. Nearly two and a half hours had passed and the need to move again was now very strong.
"I'm coming for you, El," Elrohir whispered in his mind, unwilling to break the connection but understanding why it needed to happen. Something was coming, something that they needed to be ready for and would undoubtedly change the fates of them all.
"Come quickly. I will return to them if you will return to me," Elladan could sense the pull to get moving as well, and though he did not desire to, he would return to his body and fight as long as he had strength, until either Mandos made his claim or rescue came.
"Fight and I will come. Together we will finish this... to whatever end."
Elrohir rolled over carefully, getting up on all fours and felt around for the basins. Those basins once held his death, now they held the key to his life. Pressing his nose against the edge of one, Elrohir held the crack in the mask open. For the first time, he breathed deeply.
When he pressed one trapped hand against the rim of the basin and rubbed back and forth, the substance that confined him flaked away in chunks. He freed his thumb; moments later all five fingers popped loose at once. With his free hand Elrohir tore a chunk over his nose off – now he could breathe freely.
In another minute Elrohir had both hands free and most of the residue off his face. Some of the mask near his skin had not hardened all the way, leaving behind the original sticky texture. The elf dunked his head into the basin full of water, hardening it so it would be easier to remove.
Elrohir suddenly heard something behind him. He turned slowly.
Mayroniel stood in the doorway, a knife in his hands. Ralorn had requested of him to go check on the prisoners, only to find that both Legolas and Strider and escaped and this one still alive. The knife he held was the same one he had threatened Aragorn with, had killed Valan with, and there was no doubt in Elrohir's mind that Mayroniel intended to use it against him next.
"You aren't playing easy to kill, Elrohir," Mayroniel hissed at him, his eyes dark and his gaze heavy. His grip on the knife tightened.
Elrohir stopped removing the last of the death mask, although the remaining strips of the mask still stuck to his face and hair must have made him look like a demon. He faced the other elf, took his fighting stance. The look in his eyes was unsettling, like watching a bridled fire.
At that moment, Elrohir heard a bow twang behind Mayroniel.