Chapter 13

Some Bonds Are Just Too Strong

Legolas grit his teeth so hard he nearly broke the skin on his lips. The human's unbidden cries were circling in his head, driving the elf insane. Elrohir still sat by him, not really feeling the same pain, but knowing what it was. It burned them both, scars left behind that could remain unhealed.

Then something caught the corner of his eye and he turned his head, seeing something in the distance coming toward them fast.

"Legolas," Elrohir whispered to the prince. Legolas did not react, but Elrohir continued to speak, somehow knowing that the prince was listening. "Legolas, something comes to us."

Legolas lifted his head and looked in the direction Elrohir was pointing. He too could see it, and they both knew who was coming. Legolas did not even wait he was on the move, heading right toward help, Elrohir right behind him, leaving the firelight and its dancing shadows behind to the source of hope.

Once they knew they were safe from the demon and his orcs, both elves broke into a run, barely touching the ground it seemed as they raced to the elven lord. Elrond left Arien and the others behind as he too raced forward, meeting them a short distance in-between.

"What's going on? Where are my sons!" Elrond could sense the evil, the danger they were all in it showed in his voice. He watched both of the young elves carefully while they filled him in on all the new events. When they had finished minutes later, Mithrandir had joined them and Elrond was far from calm and composed. Rather, he was filled with fury.

"Let's go. We've got to get them out, and I'll not leave them there to get tortured farther!" Elrond hissed at the group, then turned on his heel and walked quickly to the small group of warriors. Speaking quietly in elvish, he directed them to surround the clearing and wait for a signal to begin open fire.

"Wait for the signal!" he called quietly after them as they began to circle the clearing. Elrond gathered Elrohir, Legolas, and Mithrandir together, taking them along with him as he hid in the shadows. Before he entered his hiding place though, he drew his sword quietly and held it in front of himself with both hands.

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The orcs had gotten fed up with the human's lack of response, and irritated, threw him roughly to the ground. Elladan was quickly at his side, gathering the young man in his arms, tearless cries racking his body. He was going to snap. He couldn't take it anymore . . .

"You still don't understand, do you? You have no idea how long we can drag this, and believe me, we will. But in the end I shall get what I want."

Elladan shook harder and turned his head away from the demon, trying very hard not to cry out. He wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to get away from it all, but he couldn't. This was no dream, it was real, and he would just have to see where it would take him.

Then suddenly he heard a small rustle in the brush. He turned his head slightly to see what it was. The demon wasn't paying attention to what his surroundings were doing, directing full attention to the elf and human. Elladan looked through the thick branches and saw a hidden face.

"Ada?" he whispered, trying to believe. But it was true Elrond was right there, watching him.

Then he saw Elrond mouth something to him. "It's all right. I'm here. We're going to get you both out."

Elladan nodded, then went back to his slouch, so he wouldn't bring attention to his father or anyone else. But inside himself, he suddenly felt like he could fly.

And then as if to add to his growing hope, he felt Aragorn move ever so slightly in his arms.

"Estel?" Aragorn moved again, and blurrily opened his eyes.

"Estel! You are alive!" Elladan pulled the human close for a moment, but immediately let go as Aragorn let loose a groan of pain. Once it passed, Aragorn looked the twin in the eyes and whispered, "Don't let him take you. Fight him. Fight back."

"Now that you live my brother, I cannot fall again." Elladan was filled with an indescribable courage, and as he looked up at the demon with his eyes filling with fire, a voice entered his mind words that were not his came unbidden to his lips.

"You are a coward!" Elladan hissed at the demon. The demon turned his full attention to the elf again, his anger growing.

"What did you say to me!" he raged at the fair being, stepping closer to him as if to scare him. Elladan didn't flinch.

"You are a coward. A coward! You use your power to attack, manipulate, corrupt, and destroy those that are weak-minded and those that are innocent. That is not power. Those are the works of a weak mind. And that's what you are; a weak coward!"

The demon screamed at him in fury, a wail not unlike the cry of a Nazgûl. He seemed to grow in stature, and the darkness around him grew, even blocking some of the firelight.

"Do you call this the works of a weak-minded coward! See!" the demon raised his hands to the sky and began to speak softly in a black language. The sky above them at once grew dark and dreary, filling with clouds heavy with rain. Thunder rattled and boomed in the distance, and lightning flashed in the once star-brightened world. Thick, heavy rain began to fall, pouring down in sheets. The fire in the clearing quickly went out, though with the repetitive crashes of lightning it was as if it were still there. Elladan's eyes flashed along with the bolts of fire.

"Yes! You have always been and will always be a coward! I am not weak and neither is my brother who you have so mercilessly beaten, and human though he is his body, mind, and spirit are more powerful than yours. You are weak! You are a coward!"

The demon screamed again. "You stand alone, foolish elf! You are alone! Who will come to your aid? That man? He is as good as dead! You think you can withstand me alone? Let me show you true power!"

The demon raised one hand to the sky as before, and a bolt of lightning roared loudly and jolted to the earth, falling into the demon's hand. The demon held the fire in his hand like a ball, brought it down until it was in front of him, and began to shape it with his hands, until the lightning had taken the shape of a dense circle filled with white flame.

"You are too much of a free will to keep. You will never back down to the master. And for that, Elf of the Firstborn, you will die!" the demon took the fireball, reached back, and prepared to launch it at Elladan.

"NO! No they do not stand alone!" Elrond, Elrohir, and Legolas burst out of the trees and into the edge of the clearing, quickly killing a few of the unsuspecting orcs that were close to them. The demon could see his attackers clearly Elrond the most visible, standing in the middle of the three, armed in silver mail and completely covered in a black cloak, his sword held in front of him in a ready position, prepared to strike. "I raise my sword to their defense, and take care of you!"

The demon backed away in surprise, the fireball going out in his hands, but then ordered the remaining orcs forward to fight the new-comers. The three elves were immediately in a world of their own, attacking the beasts with such fury that even Elladan had to wonder a little. He lifted Aragorn up slightly and dragged him away from the battle. Once he was away from danger, he laid Aragorn on his stomach gently. He then stood quickly. He ran to Elrohir, who threw him a long knife, and joined the attack. Several elves armed with knives and swords burst from the trees, cutting down the orcs with horrifying accuracy.

The demon backed away to the edge of the clearing and watched his orc party try to overpower the elves. It would have been easier to try and lift a mountain. Everywhere the orcs were falling, and with each death the demon grew more deathly cold.

Then suddenly out of the trees there came a great form in the rain, wind, and lightning. It was a horse, the demon knew that immediately, a stallion filled with a raging fury. Arien had been watching them, ignored by everyone, and unrestrained he decided to make his own attack. He ran to the demon, wanting to bring death to the one that had caused his master to walk down one of the harshest paths of torture.

But sadly, the demon saw him coming. Putting one long-fingered hand into his cloak, he drew a long black knife, and waited for the stallion. Arien stopped right in front of the demon and reared high, lashing out with both forelegs. The demon sidestepped the attack, waited for the stallion to get back on all fours, and threw the knife in an unavoidable score.

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"ARIEN! NOO!" someone close by yelled out the horse's name. Arien screamed in agony and roared at the demon, catching the demon's wrist in his mouth and bore down on it, breaking it as he turned away.

The demon too yelled out in pain; he was not immortal, and flesh and bones was as much a part of him as any other being. He clenched his broken, bleeding wrist to him and watched, even through his pain, triumphantly as Arien staggered toward his master, the knife imbedded in his chest.

Aragorn watched with pain filled eyes as his stallion tried to get to him, but the horse's stumbling fell short, and he fell to his knees a few feet away. Aragorn crawled to him and immediately tears began to flow like before. The wound in Arien's chest was deep, and deadly. Aragorn knew enough about wounds to know that his stallion was not going to make it. No amount of medicine, care, or love could save him. Blood was literally gushing from around the knife, gushing life.

"Arien, please, no! No . . ." Aragorn sobbed out as he reached him, wrapping his arms around the horse's head and crying into his mane. Arien pulled away and one last time, nuzzled Aragorn's cheek with his muzzle, whickering softly in pain and assurance. Aragorn embraced the horse tightly, stroking him the way he always had, whispering over and over again to the stallion, telling him how much he loved him. And then all too soon the shuddering in the stallion's body stopped, and Aragorn knew he was dead.

"Arien . . ." Aragorn whispered to the now still body, looking into the unseeing grey eyes with horror and disbelief. He couldn't believe it. Arien was gone! Dead! Just like that . . . such pain at the sudden loss tore apart his heart, and with tear-stained eyes looked up at the demon with indescribable, maddened hurt the look of death to his foe. He was going to pay. Aragorn gently put Arien's head down on the rain-soaked earth, and respectively closed his eyes for a moment, bowing his head.

Aragorn raised his head and watched dizzy pain as his family fought for him. Elrond was the closest, no longer the elder elf that moved with care, but now wrapped up in a death dance, moving with grace and power, a warrior at the height of his strength. He was locked in a struggle that he would never stop fighting. The orcs were no match for Elrond's state of mind, and were quickly cut down by the elven lord's wrath-driven sword.

As he watched, out of the corner of his eyes he saw the demon move slightly, and turned his attention to the dark shadow. The demon was again searching for something in the depths of his cloak, and then, laughing slightly, pulled out something that glinted in the lightning. Aragorn saw it, recognized it, and froze in heart-stopping horror.

The demon had drawn another knife, and pulled it back, ready to throw; right at Elrond.

Elrond's every thought was in the battle he was in, unsuspecting the demon's intentions. Aragorn didn't even think, the thoughts of his heart and will taking over. He weakly struggled to his feet, left Arien's side and ran in an almost drunken manner, putting himself between the demon and the elven lord. His injuries made it more than painful, but his will gave him the strength to do it. The demon didn't even realize he was there until it was too late the knife flew through the air and struck with a sickening thud. Aragorn again fell to the ground.

"ESTEL!"

Legolas had regained much strength in the short time since he had been healed, but still was not up to complete health. He had hung behind the others, and contented himself to help Elrohir against the orcs, being the twin's backup in any time of need. In which case, he had been watching the human out of the corner of his eye, and had seen the whole scene play out before his eyes. It was as if it had come from one of his worst nightmares.

Horror-struck, he had watched Arien's attack, the stallion's death, and then Aragorn's bold rescue. Legolas saw the man fall to the ground as the knife buried itself in his ribs, abandoned Elrohir, and ran to Aragorn's side, no longer able to stay away from him. The prince dropped to his knees and turned Aragorn over, and felt his throat squeeze shut. Never before had he seen someone he cared for so unrecognizable. Aragorn's face was almost beyond recognition, his split skin marring his familiar face.

Aragorn could hardly breathe it came in at first deep and hard, but ending in a pain-filled gasp. His eyes were only half open and glazed over. His skin was so pale and cold, and his injuries contrasted sharply against him. And Legolas knew knew the man's time was also short.

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"No . . ." Tears stung the elf's eyes. "No, Aragorn please, don't go . . . don't leave me . . ."

Aragorn shakily looked up at the elf and reached for him with trembling fingertips. "Le-Legol-las . . . b-be s-strong-g mel-lon nin, I-I ha-have n-ever left-t y-you, I-I don't-t w-want t-to n-now . . ." Legolas felt the icy fingers touch his cheek, and he reached up and grasped the freezing hand in his own.

"Don't go, please don't let go . . ." The tears Legolas had been holding back for so long finally were released. The sorrow that he already felt for Arien had now increased to immeasurable limits.

"I-I am sor-ry Leg-golas, b-but-t . . . I-I can-can't f-figh-t any-anymore-ore . . ."

"No! No don't give in, Aragorn please! I may never see you again . . ." Legolas pulled the man closer until their foreheads touched, silent tears falling down his face. "Don't give in you must fight it! Please . . .don't leave me alone!" A few of his tears gently landed on Aragorn's face.

So many times had they been steps away from death's door, and each time managed to pull through . . .

"Le-Legolas . . ." Aragorn again touched Legolas' face with his hand that Legolas had clenched in his own. "D-do y-you ha-have st-re-eng-th e-enou-gh to-to le-let m-me s-st-stay-y?"

Weaker men would have long ago given up the ghost, weaker elves would have left for the sea, but never these two . . .

"Yes! Yes my friend, I do . . ." Legolas moved Aragorn's head into the crook of his arm, cradling it tightly against himself. "Yes."

Hard and bold in body and mind, they refused to give up. They both had each other to hold on to, never stopping the long and difficult fight, because they both knew there was something more, something beyond the pain.

"But-but will y-you ha-have stre-nn-g-thh en-ough to-o let-t me g-go?"

Legolas' breath stopped in his lungs. He shut his eyes and hung his head, leaning his forehead against Aragorn's chin. He sat listening to the cries of battle, the howl of the wind, and tasting saltwater amidst the rain. He felt Aragorn slowly begin to shake harder. He was dying, had been dying for hours, his strength that was higher than a normal man's was failing but he wasn't going to go, not until Legolas was ready.

It was only a few moments before Legolas lifted his head slightly to respond, his clear voice choked with emotion. "Yes Estel, I do."

. . . and for a split second he was at peace. He was going . . .

"I-I w-wi-will wh-wai-wait f-fo-for y-you-u . . . Le-Lego-las . . ." Aragorn began to shudder violently, his breath hitching harshly in his throat. "T-tel-ll m-my . . . f-ath-er . . . El . . . and El . . . I . . . I . . . ." Aragorn's voice failed him, and could not say anything over his closing throat. Legolas pulled the man closer, burying his face against Aragorn's shoulder, feeling the man's quickened heartbeat against his own chest, and quietly sobbed. Aragorn seemed to sink in his embrace.

"Estel, know this," Legolas said gently into the man's ear. "Wherever the stars may lead you . . . or wherever death may take you . . . may a part of me remain with you, to protect you from harm."

All at once the shuddering quickly stopped, the man's ragged breathing ceased to flow through him, and the soft beating against the elf's chest was no more Legolas could no longer feel a heartbeat.

The elf prince choked out a last whispered plea. "Estel, please . . . don't leave me."

Legolas slowly drew the man away from himself and looked at him softly. Aragorn's eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open without breath. His features now softened and calm, released from the harsh convulsions. Pain lines smoothed away to nothing.

And he was gone…

Legolas couldn't breathe.

Lifting the man's head with one hand he gently kissed the cold forehead, shutting his eyes in unimaginable pain. He rose the other shaky hand and covered his friend's still face with it, leaned his forehead against his wrist, and sobbed out a whispered call of release.

"Hiro îth . . . ab 'wanath. Gerich veleth nín."

As he sat for a moment battling with himself, he felt a strange sensation in his hand that covered Aragorn's face, the one that was touching bare skin. It was as if he could feel something invisible leaving himself and entering the man, but what, he could not tell.

His mind would only register one thing. His pride and joy, what made him well known throughout the elven lands. Another part of his life that was bound to him.

Legolas slowly looked up and stared at the demon, of whom wasn't paying any attention to them. Tenderly he laid the human on his side, his eyes dark and dead. "I will avenge you, my friend," he whispered, then stood, picking up his elven blades.