Chapter 16

Don't Hide

Over the next few weeks, Aragorn never saw Legolas while he was awake. The elf avoided the man's room during his waking hours like the plague, and only visited Aragorn when he was asleep. Though Aragorn worried deeply, he did not ask why. Every time he awoke he could feel as though another presence was there, lingering in the room like a fading memory.

Legolas indeed would not come to see the man awake. When Aragorn fell asleep Legolas would know, and quietly enter the room to sit by his side. It was bad enough that he had to endure the pain of waiting for Aragorn to heal, but to be there when he was awake and watch him suffer through every move, every touch . . . it was too hard to bare. Not now, not yet. But to come when he was asleep and see his face softened with peace rather than contracted in agony, made the burden easier to endure.

Several times the elf wondered why he was hiding. What was he afraid of? Why couldn't he take it like the others? Elladan was healing much faster than his human brother, though he remained unusually quiet and stern. No one asked him what happened to him not the emotional side. Legolas ached every time he thought of it. He had asked first, and on the very night it happened. The shame he felt was nothing short of unspeakable.

Aragorn continued to wonder about Legolas' avoidance of him, but never said anything to anyone. His senses had been dulled greatly by pain, and he could no longer hear or even see as well as he used to. Before these events he had been able to detect even the lightest of footfalls and wake to a simple howl of a wind outside his window, but now it was an effort to hear anyone even within his room, and slept so deeply he feared he would never sleep like he had before. The changes were constantly dampening his spirits, though Elrond constantly assured him eventually he would return to normal. It was the only bit of confidence he had in his dwindling habits that he counted on a great deal when out in the wilds.

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Aragorn snapped awake. Pain shoot through him as he unconsciously tried to move. His back burned, and his injuries throbbed. He groaned lightly as the pain slowly sunk to easier levels and shifted uncomfortably. He had always hated sleeping on his stomach, and now that was the only position he could be in to sleep at all. Whenever he went hunting or slept outside, he always was on his back or side. Being on his stomach made him feel vulnerable, even in Rivendell.

He again relaxed against the pillows he was on and tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible right then. Because his back had been giving him such trouble he had been awake constantly in the night, and within the past few hours he had heard several things that don't come from a silent house. His hearing was finally beginning to return.

Quiet footsteps, doors opening, cloaks swishing, and constant wandering. Aragorn wondered who could possibly be up at this time of night. It couldn't have been even an hour until dawn. It wasn't that it hadn't happened before, but why now? Why this time, and him not know?

Suddenly he heard the footsteps again. Silently the ranger listened to them walk next to his doorway, go just beyond, and then stop. Aragorn froze, wondering what would happen. The footsteps back-tracked, and he heard his door slowly creak open.

He really felt vulnerable now.

Aragorn didn't move, for he couldn't see his door, couldn't see who was trying to enter his room. He lay motionless on his bed for a few moments, pretending to be asleep, but he couldn't help a small groan of pain as he again unconsciously shifted to get more comfortable.

The groan seemed to scare his intruder. Right away he heard his door shut, and almost silent footsteps left his door for a new destination.

Aragorn was tired of wondering who was wandering the halls before dawn, and had tried to enter his room. Stiffly, carefully, he eased himself straight off his pillows and got into a kneeling position. Breathing rather heavily and trying to ignore the sharp protests of his injuries, he slid off his bed and began to limp toward the door. His leg was still heavily bound, and ended every other step with a heavy thunk.

Ada's going to kill me. He thought as he opened his door cautiously. Elrond had already told him to not get out of bed until his injuries had taken some time to heal, but Aragorn felt that this was just a little more important. Besides, he mused, as long as I'm careful Ada won't even know I left my room.

Fat chance of that, another voice in his head told him. You know he'll find out. He always finds out.

Oh hush. Aragorn silenced the voice as he crept quietly into the hallway. You always get me into trouble.

Aragorn scanned the hallway carefully, but he didn't see anything that caused immediate attention. Padding slowly on his good bare foot and carefully stepping on his splintered one, he walked along the corridor, searching for anything that might be unusual. He didn't see anything. He needed to stop often for a moment to rest his injured leg.

Legolas, he thought as he stopped next to another doorway farther down the hall. Maybe he's heard something.

Aragorn cautiously opened the prince's door and was met with an empty room. Legolas was nowhere to be found. Aragorn stepped inside and looked around. There was a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace and a chair had been pulled up next to it, but it was empty. The prince's weapons had been placed on a table near the bedside, untouched since yesterday. His cloak was missing, his boots were gone. The bed was not being used. Aragorn sighed. He hadn't really seen the prince in several days.

He hasn't been sleeping, has he? Aragorn asked the empty room. The walls seemed to respond in the affirmative, telling Aragorn that the young elf prince had not. Not at all.

Oh Legolas! Why must you hurt so? Aragorn turned around and left the room, now knowing who he had been listening to for the past few hours. Once out in the hallway again, he examined every inch of the silent hall.

Then he saw him.

The prince's black cloak had hidden him well the first time Aragorn was looking, but now that the ranger knew what to look for, Legolas could no longer hide from the man's sharpening eyes. He sat on the floor in the shadows, hardly noticeable, and did not move. Aragorn rushed forward as much as his injures would allow, and stopped right before the prince.

Kneeling carefully to his knees he looked over his friend. Legolas' boots were slightly mud-covered, and Aragorn knew right away that he had been outside. The hood on the cloak shrouded the prince's face so that Aragorn could not see him, and he had tightly wrapped a chunk of the thick fabric of his cloak around one hand. Curious at such an act, Aragorn reached forward and tried to loosen the soft material.

A voice came out of the hood, making Aragorn stop what he was doing, for it was so very soft, and yet in the quiet of the hall, quite penetrating. "I was wondering when you'd come looking."

"Legolas?" Aragorn again reached forward and pushed the hood back a ways until he could see his face. What he saw scared him. He saw nothing. Nothing familiar in the prince's gaze. Careworn and weary lines had tensed his features, his eyes lacked fire and life, his entire being was cold at one look. "Legolas, what are you doing?"

"You know," the prince said, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. "I've been wondering the same thing. I don't know what I'm doing. Trying to figure things out, I guess. Strider, there's just a lot that's happened that I'm trying to work out, but it's a lot worse than it should. It's like trying to find something that's lost. I've been wandering these halls every night. It's like trying to find the answer to a question I haven't heard."

Aragorn looked him in the eye. He had never really felt more confused. His gaze rove over Legolas' features, as if he hoped to find an answer. "Legolas, what is wrong?"

"I don't know. Really, I don't, Strider. I can't sleep. I can't recall happy memories very well. Something's just aching for my attention, but it's lost, and I can't find it. I've been up all night, every night to try and figure it out. But like I said, I'm trying to find an answer to a question I haven't heard. The question is what's trying to find me, and I'm trying to find an answer without hearing it first." Legolas' hands balled into fists in irritation, his face suddenly more taunt with anger. "I can't find it." Legolas looked at his old friend in the eyes, as though pleading for an answer.

Aragorn suddenly felt something grow damp in his hand. He still held the fist that Legolas had for some reason bound with his cloak, and now the reason was suddenly there, smacking him in the face.

"Legolas, you're bleeding!" Aragorn quickly pulled the cloak out of the prince's grasp and sucked in his breath rather sharply. The top of Legolas' hand was cut wide open and bleeding. By the looks of it, he had hurt it while outside, on a sharp rock or piece of wood. Aragorn looked up at Legolas again, who was looking at the injury as though he had just remembered it. He sighed.

"It doesn't hurt. Nothing does. Not like what's been bothering me so much. I was outside earlier and I stumbled over a tree root I didn't see, and my hand slammed into a sharp rock." Legolas looked beyond frustrated. "Don't you see? This is causing me to forget what I'm doing. It's taking me Strider. I can't even avoid tree roots anymore!"

Legolas looked as though he wanted to punch the wall. Aragorn didn't know what to do. He knew Legolas' hand needed attention, but it was the prince's wounded soul that needed the help now. But what remedy he could give, Aragorn had no idea.

Legolas saw the look Aragorn was giving him. His voice softened a little. "I am sorry, my friend. I know I'm not making enough sense. I thank you for wanting to help me, but I don't think you can this time. There's just too much that I need to search, and I don't want to give that burden to you. You don't need it right now, and I don't deserve to give it to you."

"What are you saying?" Aragorn gave the prince a horrified look. "Are you telling me that because you think it's your fault I got injured like I did that you don't deserve help? Legolas, I want to help you! Nothing that happened in the past could change that. You know I would help you."

Legolas' gaze on the man turned from anger to pain. Sharp, never-ending pain. "I know you wouldn't have it that way, me thinking I don't want it because I feel I don't deserve it, but I don't want to give you that burden, Strider! I can't. I just can't. I know you want to help me, but right now I don't even know how to help myself."

"It's too late mellon-nin, for you have already shifted some of it to me for now I know of it. You aren't going to deal with it alone. I won't let you. Now, come with me," he said gently, but firmly, standing up with a twinge of pain and reaching out for the prince. "I want to take care of that hand."

Legolas shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Why? Why not? Legolas I can't let you stay like this!" Aragorn again knelt. "I won't!"

"You don't understand! You can't help me! I thought maybe you could, so I tried to go into your room just a short while ago. I wanted help, I needed it! But then you groaned . . ." Legolas turned away, his voice shrinking from vehemence to a shaky whisper. "I knew you were still in pain, pain that was my fault from the beginning. I didn't want to add to it by trying to tell you about my own condemning thoughts, fears, and worries. I was afraid." Legolas pulled his knees up to his chin, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his face in his cloak. "I was afraid to hurt you even more."

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered to the prince, placing both his hands on either side of Legolas' face and lifting his head. "My friend, you have not hurt me that way." He drew closer until he was inches from Legolas. "You have not."

Legolas shut his eyes and did not move. Aragorn continued. "The only time you hurt me is when you tell me I can't help you. When you say I can't do anything to ease your pain, whether physical or mental. When you tell me to do something I know my heart will not allow. And even though it may happen, one thing will remain standing. I will not abandon you for anything! Do you hear me? Nothing, my friend, nothing!"

Legolas' breathing was suddenly sharp and raspy, ragged gulps sounded, and Aragorn knew he was holding back tears. "Never."

A soft sob escaped the prince's throat. "No, no I swore I wouldn't cry again . . ." he whispered, half to himself, half to Aragorn. "I wanted to be stronger than that . . ."

"Legolas, I already know you are strong, and your crying will never change that." Aragorn pulled the elf forward and let him bury his face against the ranger's sleeping tunic.

"I hate crying," Legolas whispered through tears, clenching his eyes shut and trying to soothe the choppy breathing that came with it all. "I hate it. I wanted to be done with it that night in the woods, I promised myself I wouldn't cry in front of anyone again. Why is it that when I decide not to do something, that suddenly there are more reasons to do it?"

"You are very strong, my friend. Very strong. It is a strength to cry, especially after what you've been through. Sh, it's all right . . . perhaps it is because you should know that you need to cry sometimes."

"Estel, I am sorry, I know you want to help me." Legolas let himself relax, though his tears did not stop. "I was afraid. Ever since that night I've been afraid. I thought I'd lost you."

"It doesn't matter, my friend, it doesn't matter to me that you feared . . ." Aragorn shut his eyes and tightened his hold on the prince. "I don't care. Shh . . ."

Aragorn continued to quietly soothe the elf for several long moments until Legolas had ceased to sob so hard. But as he did, something rather unexpected happened. Legolas pulled away slightly, making Aragorn release him, but instead of staying away from the man, Legolas reached forward and gently wrapped his own arms around him. Remaining ever conscious of the injuries on his back, Legolas was careful and soft as he braced the ranger against himself, leaning his head against the human's.

"I know you don't," he whispered. "I know you don't care, and I'm glad that I know I can trust you with this side of me. I'm so sorry you were hurt, Aragorn. I'm sorry that once again for our friendship you had to pay with blood. But I swear to you . . ." Legolas said in a strong, yet tear-choked voice. "I swear that even when you or I die and leave this world I will never forget it."

When Legolas said those words, he sat back and let go of Aragorn, and stared at him as one amazed.

"Legolas?"

A pause. "That was it."

"That was what?"

"That was the answer." Legolas gave Aragorn a completely stunned, yet complete smile. "The answer for the question I didn't know."

"Legolas-"

"No, Estel, listen to me. I had forgotten that! I had forgotten one of the pillars of our friendship, that we had both paid for it with blood. We have risked failure, torture, fear, and loss. Over and over again we have put everything at risk for the sake of the other, and as of yet it has not failed!" Legolas lifted his now completely bloodied hand, his blue-grey eyes glowing with this revelation. "It has become something much stronger, much deeper. Something that will stand strong until out lives are complete and beyond. It will not fail, Estel." Legolas' unwavering gaze in the man's eyes were met back with equal seriousness. "I had forgotten that it could not be swept away."

Aragorn gave the elf a gentle smile, thinking about the new thought he had never really looked at it that way. "Many events may come, but they will do nothing to break what we have built. We've only gained the strength we need."

Legolas sighed and again leaned back, a small smile on his face. "Oh, Estel! I feel free again." Utter joy sounded in his clear voice. "The wounds are gone. I feel I could fly. I cannot believe I forgot that. No wonder I hurt so."

Aragorn smiled. Legolas was back. "Are you ready now?"

Legolas looked at the man carefully. Aragorn looked tired and weary to the soul, but he was himself again, his zest for life was reforged with the elf being able to come to realize what their friendship meant to them both. Standing easily in one swift motion, Legolas gently pulled the man up with him.

"Yes. Let's go."

"Come on." Aragorn grabbed Legolas' arm and pulled him a short ways down the hall. "I want to take care of that hand."