Chapter 10

What You Mean To Me

Finally, after many harsh strikes, the demon stopped his beatings. Elladan hadn't counted but he knew it had been many. Too many. The demon ordered the orcs to cut the human free. Once the ropes had been severed, Aragorn fell to the ground and rolled to his side, sobbing silently. The orcs that had been guarding Elladan allowed the elf to run to the fallen figure on the forest floor. When he reached him, Elladan gently turned him over and lifted him up, so that his back wouldn't touch anything. He placed Aragorn across his knees, stomach down, and carefully examined the damage. There was no pattern of the whip as one might expect – Aragorn's whole back was one large mass of bleeding, crisscrossing, broken skin. The multi-thonged leather had bit deeply, leaving with the thick lacerations deep gashes from the rock and blade bits that had been woven in. He was bleeding badly. Aragorn was only vaguely tethered to reality, yet he still cried out when Elladan moved him. The hot anger that had been building in Elladan suddenly burst into flame.

"If you ever do anything like that to him again, I swear you won't live to do it again!" he seethed, making the demon stop and stare at him.

The demon didn't move for a moment, then stepped forward and angrily grasped a chunk of Elladan's hair, lifting the elf's face to meet his own. Even as close as they were, Elladan still could not make out a face.

"Don't give me more of a reason to kill you than I already have." He hissed, glaring at both the elf and the human. "You obviously still haven't learned a lesson. I have a plan for you, scum." Somehow, his voice deepened to something even darker.

The demon turned to the orcs behind him and selected four of them. He pointed to the two brothers as he spoke.

"Take them, bind them, and secure them separately in that small cluster of trees over there. If they are still alive at dawn, bring them to me."

The orcs grinned horridly and walked over to the captives, arms out, hands clenched. Having no power to fight back, Elladan had to allow the horrible creatures to bind them again. Aragorn no longer had the power to stand on his own, the orcs lifted him by his arms and dragged him away, taking great pleasure in tapping the human's bleeding back and listening to him sob in pain. Elladan couldn't take it anymore . . . he couldn't . . .

"Estel, estel uuye morn na naeg! Ú-awartha sí erui nin!"

Hope is not darkened by pain! Do not leave me alone!

The orcs around him growled in displeasure at hearing the clear sounds of the elven language, and one backhanded him sharply as punishment. Elladan grimaced and let his head hang as he limped along until the orcs stopped. They bound the two brothers a few feet from each other in the trees, carefully checking the ropes and knots to make sure they would not come apart, and left them. The trees rang with their horrible laughing as they walked away.

The orcs stayed close by in case they tried to escape, but all of them knew there was no chance of release under their own power. Once left alone, Elladan knew why the demon wanted them out here. Away from the warmth of the fire, the early winter winds set in, ready to make the night a living nightmare for those who were unprepared. Elladan thought about it for a moment. Neither of them had tunics of any good use, (Aragorn's taken, and his so torn it may as well not be there) both of them had been badly beaten by the orcs, then Aragorn severely whipped, and himself emotionally scarred from just watching.

Well, he thought. If we're going to make it at all we'd better do something. Kathalion's still out there. Keep hope alive. That's all they needed. Hope.

Elladan looked over at Aragorn. The young man had his arms stretched out away and bound around the tree behind him, tied so tightly that his hands were turning white and his wrists red. His head fell forward and his hair obscured his features. He sagged forward against his bonds, and did not move. Then Elladan noticed something, and when he realized what it was, he cried out softly in despair. The tree behind and the ground around Aragorn was glistening and wet. Elladan didn't need the faint fire-light to know why he could smell it. Blood. Aragorn was slowly bleeding to death. The earth around him was turning into mud with his own blood.

He had to get free. Elladan pulled and tugged at the thick ropes that bound him, only to find out that the orcs had over done their job. He couldn't get them loose at all. He twisted and struggled, but the ropes held firm, refusing to free him. He had been bound just Aragorn had – backwards with his arms wrapped around the tree trunk. He yanked wildly, but nothing could free him.

"Estel! Estel!" trembling, Elladan watched Aragorn closely. The human still did not move.

"Estel . . " he barely whispered it, and again treacherous tears formed and fell down his cheeks, but still, Aragorn did not move or respond, unconscious from the torture and pain. He's going to die! He's losing too much blood too fast, and I can't help! I swore Ada I would protect him, why can't I go through with it? Why must he always be hurt! Why can I never help him escape harm! Elladan began to sob harder in pain and failure. Ah Elbereth, please . . . please spare him! Don't take him home! . . . Matho foech . . . I am sorry Aragorn. So sorry.

But despite everything, even as he allowed his grief to swallow him whole, Elladan began to sing softly, not really knowing why he was. Singing wouldn't help them escape. But it could wake the human near him, or give comfort to his failing heart.

Man innas im car ir estel na haim?

(what would i do when hope is lost?)

Ir bal dartha sui hrîw hesk

(when despair lingers like a winter's frost)

Bal a dúath noro cam ned cam

(despair and darkness go hand in hand)

Eg o estel car ha awartha i dôr

(aside from the hope when it forsakes the land . . . )

Elladan's beautiful, clear voice rang out softly in the surrounding trees. He didn't dare sing to loud for fear of the orcs, or the demon's wrath, but only loud enough to touch the ears of the limp and broken young man near him. The song seemed to mix with the wailing of the wind that tore around him.

Gûr aphad auth, sui daw innas i arad . . .

(death follows battle, like night does the day(

Car pân estel haim ned i enedh uin dagor

(when all hopes are lost in the midst of the fray)

Ilf nor nûr, sui rûth a naeg

(emotions run deep, like anger and pain)

Niiir mab gar a nîr dant sui ross . . .

(grief takes hold and tears fall like rain . . . )

Melethmin haim, dan i or-auth

(loved ones are lost, but the battle was won)

Naru agar lib, lim gar haithin . . .

(red blood was spilled, so many have gone . . . )

Arad ring a hûn norn

(days are cold and hearts are hard)

Haru anna a ind gwaen

(wounds are dealt and souls are marred)

Lith an lith, ast an ast

(ashes to ashes, dust to dust)

Pada i men, a lend min innas garo

(walk the road, and travel we must)

Dûath can, a calad innas thinna . . .

(darkness calls, and light will fade . . . )

Elladan bowed his head and continued to let the tears fall from his clenched eyes. The light is fading, but it is not gone yet. Oh, Estel!

Sui min pada i râd tan amarth garo ekhant.

(as we walk the path that fate has made)

"My Estel . . gerin meleth an le . . . le linnathon!"

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"Breathe . . ." he thought, pumping his wings harder, lungs heaving.

"Breathe . . ."

"Keep breathing . . ."

Kathalion had been flying for a while now, ever since they had been attacked by the orcs and the demon. He had long since left the two elven horses behind, trying to reach Rivendell quickly. But it had been long since he had needed to fly so far so fast, and was becoming quite winded as he got closer. The only thing that kept him going was the sharp joyful cries of the orcs, signaling the human and elf's capture. He needed to get help fast.

He shook his head, shaking away the terror of such. Orcs had no mercy for their captives, but they are easily stopped when done the correct way. But the demon . . . he knew a demon would be much harder to stop.

I must be getting close, he thought, and as if to answer him, faintly he could see the outline of Rivendell, just ahead of him. Joyfully he put on a last burst of speed and cried aloud, swiftly flying for the large estate.

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Elrohir looked up from his book over to the still form on the bed. Still nothing. No movement. Nothing. He didn't know how much longer he could take not knowing what was going on with his two brothers. He sighed deeply, and tried to find some source of hope.

A knock sounded at the door. Elrohir had gotten quite used to the frequent visits of his father, and sure enough, Elrond entered the room. There it is. Thought Elrohir, relieved.

"Has there been any change?" Elrond asked, though he knew the answer.

Elrohir set down the book he had been reading and shook his head. Legolas had not woken in almost two days, finally succumbing to the poison that coursed through his veins. Now hardly alive, he slept deeply, not responding to anything Elrond did to wake him up. Fear gripped both Elrond and his son, afraid that Aragorn would not get back in time, and even if he did, Legolas would not awaken so the two friends would even be able to say goodbye.

Elrond sat down on the bed and placed his hand on Legolas' forehead. Still no change – Legolas was still as frigid as snow. Wincing and shuddering violently was a common trait to him now, but over the last day or so it had slowed, and in the past few hours, stopped all together. Horrified at this, Elrond came more often. Indeed, he barely left.

The first few days had been a total fight for survival. True to his word, Elrohir had not left Legolas' side, and both he and Elrond had practically lived in the prince's room. Legolas had scared father and son well more than once. Aside from the terrifying cold, limp body and constant shivering, Legolas would continue to have seizure-like fits, anywhere from two to five times a day. Thankfully Elrond and Elrohir could handle that, but the consistency of it was robbing Legolas of his strength, so quite often he slept, and would only wake a few times a day, and only for a very short while.

When he was awake, Elrohir would talk to him, trying with all his might to keep Legolas' will and heart alive with hope. He did not talk a lot, if at all, but when he did he would tell Elrohir that he would not give up especially when they spoke of what Elladan and Aragorn were doing for him.

Elrohir adjusted his position in the chair he was in, and thought about the last time Legolas had woken up their last conversation. Legolas had been so weak he no longer could even raise his head, but not weak enough to not make a last request.

Elrohir moved forward and grasped Legolas' hand firmly, brushing away the long golden hair from the prince's face. Legolas weakly tried to hold Elrohir's hand, but he found he could not. He looked at the elf he had known for so long and spoke in a mere whisper.

"If. . . if I don't make it," he said, his eyes locked with the twin just above him. "Know how grateful . . . I am . . . to all of you . . . for your . . . friendship and . . . great brotherly love . . . Always know . . how dear you all . . . are to . . . me . . ."

Legolas faltered for a moment, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply, then continued, watching Elrohir's eyes slowly fill with tears.

"Tell Aragorn . . . how dear he . . . and his friendship is . . . to me . . . and how much . . . I shall miss him . . ." Legolas' words were becoming softer and more spread apart as he slowly began to lose consciousness. "He has forever . . . changed me . . . in a way . . . I never . . . thought . . . possible . . . Tell him . . . I know . . . he was . . . meant . . . for great . . . things . . . Tell him . . . he is . . . the brother . . . of my . . . heart . . . I . . . will . . . miss him . . . "

Legolas shut his eyes and rolled his head to the side, but continued his soft whisper, now so low Elrohir had to lean forward to hear, "I . . . love . . . you all . . ." he again inhaled deeply, and spoke one last time, no longer speaking to Elrohir.

"Estel . . . come . . . back . . . to . . . me . . . Estel . . ."Legolas' head sunk a little in the pillow as he completely faded away.

Elrohir couldn't take it much longer. All the fear, the fact that he knew nothing of how his brothers were doing was heavily burdening his already failing spirit. He stood up quickly and walked past his father, not looking the elder elf at all and began to pace the room. Elrond immediately got up and followed his son.

"Elrohir," he stopped the young elf, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Come here."

Elrohir slowly turned and allowed Elrond to lead him to another chair on the far side of the room. "Get some sleep son."

"Ada, I-"

"No, do not speak of it now. Just sleep. I know you haven't really slept since they left." Elrohir sighed and leaned back. In minutes his eyes were unfocused and gentle, even breathing rolling from his lips. Elrond picked up an extra blanket and covered Elrohir with it. He stood silent for a moment, a range of emotions playing over his face, but a moment later he turned and took Elrohir's spot next to the bed.

The room was almost eerily quiet. Legolas lay silent and still under several thick quilts, so pale and unmoving. Elrohir's even breathing could scarcely be heard by the elven-lord's sharp ears. Elrond sighed and his eyes slid half shut. Worry that Aragorn and Elladan were going to be too late absorbed his attention. It was the last night. Where were they?

CRASH

Elrond and Elrohir both jumped about five feet. Elrond had nearly knocked his chair over.

THUD

Regaining control over himself he pulled a long knife out of his boot and headed for the doorway. Small crashes that sounded like glass echoed outside it.

"Ada?"

Elrond looked over to where Elrohir had been peacefully sleeping, and saw the slight fear, but determination, flicker in his son's eyes.

"I don't know. Come with me – let's go find out."

Elrohir pushed the blanket on him aside, unsheathed his knife that hung on his belt, and followed his father.