Scars 18- When Your Eyes Could Not See Me
Disclaimer: This story is being written for enjoyment only. I do not own any of Tolkien's characters.
Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind words regarding chapter 17! I apologize for length of time it took between chapters. I have a laundry list of excuses: a new position at work, the kids sports' schedules, approaching holidays, my own extra curricular activities, laundry and housework, FFN's ongoing problems, my own computer's and word processing program's ongoing problems, family time… but most expressly, I wouldn't allow myself to post this chapter until I reached the point where I wanted to see it end. Well with all that said, I hope you enjoy this next chapter:)
Using the water that Halfdan had provided, Elladan scrupulously began the task of bathing his brother's injured hands. Once completed, he gently patted the affected areas dry before winding clean lengths of cloth around each to bind them again. Eerily, Elrohir remained uncomplaining throughout it all. This only added to his elder brother's present distress as he gazed into his younger sibling's glazed grey eyes, which though open to the world, remained oblivious to all activity surrounding him. Elladan, however, did not allow Elrohir's present condition to stop him from carrying out a one sided conversation, while he finished up his compassionate ministrations.
"Soon, brother, Estel will return to us with the medicines needed to provide you relief. You shall see, and in no time your hands will be healed. Why it shan't be long before you'll be able to draw upon a bow string once again, and the three of us along with Legolas can set out from Rivendell into the Wilds of Eriador and compete as to who will bring back the largest stag to fill Father's larder."
With that said, Elladan smiled uneasily while quietly folding Elrohir's bandaged hands once more upon his chest. Glancing quickly down at the task he completed, the raven-haired Elf started unexpectedly as his brother's languid form suddenly resembled the rare sight of one of their brethren forever lost to sleep's eternal grasp.
"No!" He cried out sharply, while gathering Elrohir's inert form into his anguished embrace. "No, I shan't allow thus to take place!" He whispered roughly while burrowing his face into the softness of his brother's dark hair before placing a kiss against Elorhir's fevered temple. Do not frighten me so, Elrohir, for you cannot leave! Do you hear me, brother? There has been an unspoken pledge between the two of us since the moment of our birth that you would always walk beside me. Do not forsake such a vow now, but fight hard, Elrohir, if not for yourself then for Father, Arwen, Estel, and me! Our little brother is still in need of the keen insight, which has been yours to bestow upon him. His time is yet to come, and you must be there to realize it with him… And I…" The Elf stumbled on, "I do not think I could bear to traverse these lands without you…" Elladan's usually strong voice cracked. "Stay with us, brother! Stay with me!" The Elf petitioned hoarsely, while brushing his tear dampened face against the smoothness of his brother's long locks.
Silently now, though emotion still lay heavily upon his breast, Elladan tried to compose himself. Struggling, he did not relinquish his hold upon his twin. Instead he resettled Elrohir awkwardly within his embrace, thus permitting himself allowance for one of his hands so he could begin to bathe his brother's pale face and brow in the hope of reducing the relentless fever, which held fast to the Elf's failing body. He glanced briefly as he did so toward the Ranger working over Legolas. The raven-haired Elf's heartstrings twisted painfully as he grimly surmised that his Silvan friend fared no better, but was continuing to fade as well.
"Estel…" Elladan called out into the quietness of the withering night, "please hurry!"
While Elladan lamented over the conditions of his brother and friend, Aragorn continued his desperate search to locate the herbs needed to aid those in want. The pursuit before him did not prove easy for his efforts were hampered by the lingering darkness. The moon's luster, when not hidden by the gathering clouds, did little to illuminate the darkened vista. Nor did the remaining autumnal canopy, which grew denser with each increasing step the Ranger took, lend any support to the heavenly body's reflective brilliance. Strangely, however, as he continued moving forward, Elladan's reassuring voice sounded within his head to join forces with the remembered exhortations of their father.
"The moon conveys to us the promise of the sun's light in our darkness. Though dimmed and obscured, do not forget its pledge. Daylight will shine upon you again."
"And it shall for Legolas and Elrohir as well!" Aragorn asserted adamantly as he pushed onward through the thickening bramble. When he finally drew to a halt some distance later, the Ranger tried to quiet his erratic emotions; frantic deliberation would prove little use, if it were to interfere with the steady contemplation needed to make a correct decision. The vast hinterland before him could prove to be a definitive apothecary, but only if he could calm the conflicting thoughts within him and focus upon what was essential.
"Think!" He admonished himself. "Such habit is not foreign to you! It is not as if you don't perform these routine tasks daily as you make your way throughout the Wild. Constantly, you are stopping here and there to gather flora, fungi, or bark, which might prove useful in your travels. Long have you laid them to dry beside your campfire at night or set about grinding them down into rudimentary powders to be collected within scraps of cloth which you store inside your pack until necessity calls for their use. Many a night it has been the only thing, which has kept your mind busy and away from unproductive thoughts of home and all that you've left behind you…Focus! Remember the tenets given to you…Do not allow them to abandon you now!"
As his agile mind struggled against miring despair, his father's earlier words returned once more to help disperse the futility affecting him.
"It is sometimes out of despair that we find true strength"
Swallowing hard, Aragorn suddenly realized where it had first been when he heard his father's voice issue forth the same sublime assurance. He had been but a boy, all alone, except for forces of Evil surrounding him. In his torment, Elrond's quiet words of comfort had helped him to regain focus, gave him anchor when all hope seemed lost. His father's steadying voice had infused him with strength well beyond his own failing capabilities to muster. This time, however, as Aragorn stood in the sunless hinterland, he had more than just his own well being to think of. Still his father's words worked towards grounding him though his throat felt suddenly raw from the wave of unwanted memories they effectively dredged forth.
"I shall try my best, Father," Aragorn acknowledged tightly, while blinking back the sudden threat of tears.
Closing his eyes against their burning sensation, and to the other competing stimuli seeking to gain access, the Ranger fixed his thoughts solely upon the task ahead of him. Painstakingly, he disciplined himself until the sage advice he so desperately sought returned to sustain him.
Opening his grey eyes wide with its revelation, he whispered, "Yes, elm and comfrey…I should have thought of thus before…" He all but finished even as his long limbs were in movement again beneath his lanky frame, taking the first few purposeful steps forward to be followed with more self-assurance as he dashed off with renewed determination.
Settled now between brother and friend, Elladan's grey eyes keenly observed the first pinking rays of light as the sun struggled to reclaim its hold upon the darkened horizon. The waning hours of night had proved long as he divided his attentions between the two suffering Elves beside him while sending Halfdan off once again to replenish the only means of succor he held at present to offer them. Looking from fair head to dark, the Elf was relieved to note that at least one of the Firstborn present seemed to be gaining some benefit from the stream's cooling waters.
Elrohir, though still unconscious, appeared to be resting more comfortably since Elladan had bathed his wounded hands once more. Moving his attentions back toward Legolas, regrettably the same could not be said for his Silvan friend. The fair-haired Elf seemed in constant torment as his stricken body tossed and turned upon the makeshift bed of tender brush beneath him. The archer's now closed eyes still moved with increased rapidity beneath their sallow lids, while every so often the Elf's once sound body would arch convulsively as his throat distended backwards to intercept whatever deep throated appeal he was struggling to make. Elladan surmised sadly that the fever affecting Legolas haunted not only his now disease ravaged body, but the Elf's impoverished mind as well.
Clenching his hands into momentary fists of rage at his inability to be more productive on his friend's behalf, Elladan leaned over the still struggling Elf, offering what little comfort he had to give with the laying on of hands as he attempted once again to quiet Legolas' flailing motions. "Be still, my friend. Nothing will harm you. Soon all shall be well again." Elladan muttered, though the reassurance his calming words should have held seemed insubstantial even to his own ears in the wake of such misery and pain.
'Why? Why was this happening?' Elladan's mind immediately beckoned as his comforting hands worked to still his friend. 'The four of us should be on our way back to Imladris by now, not suffering here in such grim circumstance. "How… How can you allow such pain to happen to those, who have only done good under your realm?" He beseeched to the still star swept skies above him.
Immediately he regretted his unrestrained anger against the deciding forces of this universe. He knew if his father were present, the elder being would have admonished him for giving up hope so easily, but there was so much at stake at this moment.
Elladan had never been one to wait graciously as the events around him unfolded to show themselves. Patience, a gift that many of his fellow brethren seemed endowed with, was a virtue that had eluded him at birth. Perhaps Elrohir had received the lion's share of it for them both, since his younger twin had taken more after their father in his ability to wait out situations. He, on the other hand, felt stilted when unable to read what was before him. At times he envied his father's ability of foresight, though Elrond had warned him time and again that such a proficiency should not always be regarded as a gift.
Sadly the raven-haired Elf shook his head again, as his gentle hands continued their compassionate ministrations by clasping Legolas' shoulders, then moved upward to soothe back the now dampened hair which clung to the Elf's fevered face and neck. No, he would never get use to waiting things out. He'd rather face off with a cave troll, then mark time while circumstances decided to reveal themselves. As his busied hands moved to replace the dampened cloth upon Legolas' brow, his mind flashed back to another time when he found waiting things out equally unbearable.
Aragorn's recovery from the injuries he had sustained during the Orc attack had been lengthy. Weeks crawled by as their father, using the best healing capabilities known to him, decided to keep the youth heavily sedated, while his ailing body did battle with the many ongoing hurts dealt to it. Only time would knit together the still growing bones splintered apart not once by twice during the boy's ordeal. Only repeatedly applied poultices worked gradually to leech the infection which seeped from many wounds inflicted upon his weakened flesh. The ragged bite delivered by the foul rotting teeth of his foe had proven the most grievous to combat inflaming the child's shoulder and arm, and worrying the Elven healer once again that his foster son might not come away from his ordeal fully intact. The Elf lord, however, kept such knowledge to himself, not wanting to burden the sons of his flesh until such a decision might prove necessary to make to save Aragorn's life.
Thankfully, however, his constant prayers had been answered, and Aragorn turned a corner moving towards a complete recovery. Gradually, he weaned the boy off of the herbal draughts needed to keep his body and mind subdued throughout it all. The task proved quite grueling to both patient and healer, as the majority of Elrond's days were spent within the Halls of Healing. And during this time away from the daily household activities of his realm, his two Elven sons suffered in silence.
Naturally their father did his best at the time to administer to the injuries inflicted upon their flesh, but the wounds to their minds remained hidden from him with his diligent efforts to restore their youngest brother's health. Elrohir at first attempted to approach his older brother in an effort to help Elladan unburden the misplaced guilt he had heaped upon himself. But the elder Elf rebuffed his endeavor, claiming that Elrohir was only imagining any lingering effects he believed to be unresolved. Elrohir at first backed off with his claims, but the younger Elf did not give up trying to get his brother to talk through the emotional upheaval they had recently lived through. And with Elrohir's repeated bids, Elladan felt overwhelmed, his fixed resolve crumbling with each renewed attempt until finally the elder twin sought the comfort of distance to shelter himself from the fallout he knew would be his if he ever attempted to reopen the can of worms that was his bottled up emotions.
Taking to the Wilds, Elladan did what he knew best to recover himself. Leading a contingent to the far corners of Eraidor, he worked to oust any remaining bands of pestilence still present though his redemption would never quite be complete until he rid all of Middle Earth from the foul foes, which defaced its lands; an unthinkable task and one he at first carried out alone, until his twin would no longer accept the cold shoulder which had been extended toward him.
Months passed by as Elladan worked to exorcise the demons affecting him under his brother's watchful gaze, and as time passed Elrohir felt less and less inclined toward broaching his brother about a topic the elder twin remained unwilling to talk about.
Undoubtedly with this passage of time, the two were called back home by their father. Perhaps the Eldar being had guessed the reason behind their self-imposed absence.
It was during this visit, that Elladan was to come upon his youngest brother once again. He had not wanted to alienate himself from the child he loved so dearly, but during his duress, he felt incapable of confronting the boy lest he could not keep his emotions in check. He had kept himself abreast of every facet of Estel's ongoing recovery, through furtive actions even while out in the Wild; a quick inquiry perhaps while in passing, or a fleeting moment while he believed to go unwatched.
Little, however, failed to get past the ever discerning gaze of his father, and if Elladan had not known better he would have perceived that it had been Elrond, himself, who had orchestrated the impromptu reunion between brothers.
"It has been long enough, Elladan. Estel, questions why you have been away so long. You must face up to him."
"You are being silly, Father. You cannot believe it is because of Estel, that I've been so long away from home?"
"Can I not?" The Elf lord retorted.
"No…duty…"
"Duty?" The Lord of Imladris interrupted. "What about duty to your brother? He needs you to help make his recovery complete. There! You see! No perhaps you don't…" Elrond continued as he watched his eldest flinch at the mention of his youngest state of health. "That has been the problem all along. You don't see or at least you try not to. What is it Elladan? He has made great strides. Surely, you cannot continue to blame yourself, for such placement of blame is unmerited. No one could have altered the deeds done. You do not hold this world within your hands, and you have not the power to decide what should and should not happen within it. For to believe so, would be imprudent. You are as much at the mercy of its existence as I, myself, or any other being which inhabits These Lands. We only hold sway over what has been given to us; no more; We can do our best with that alone. But you… you have fallen short of your best where your brother is concerned. He needs you to help him set things right…"
"How can I father?" Elladan appealed. "I cannot not even look at him…his face without remembering…"
"It is the scar, which holds you back then?…I've guessed as much. You see it then as only an impediment…and not as a testament of his endurance in the face of adversity. You do yourself a great injustice by doing so…and to your brother as well…" His father's parting words still echoed inside his head as he came to an immediate halt.
Aragorn had been as startled as himself when they at last met up within the corridors of Imladris. Though it had been months since his hasty return to Rivendell, the boy still needed the assistance of a crutch to help get around the hallways of the great Elven realm. It was as such that Elladan met up with him now, the boy's face free of any self-imposed mask to hide his emotions. In the moments that he remained unspotted by the youth, the raven-haired Elf could discern quite easily that the boy still suffered lingering effects from his injuries by the lines which marked his forehead, his thinned lips, the flesh above them marred by the now fading scar, and at last by the concentrated effort the child put forth as he made his way along the hallway. But it was in those unguarded moments also before Aragorn's eyes finally recognized and met up with his own, that the child was unable to hide from Elladan the unforeseen grimness that marked his gaze. Yet all of that was gone within a flash as if it never existed when indeed he took note of his eldest brother being replaced then by both a look of longing and love.
"Elladan!" The child cried out.
"Estel…" His own strangled voice suddenly faltered.
"Estel, no!" A harkened appeal from the present rented through the air surrounding him breaking into this current reverie with its despair as Elladan's previous faraway gaze returned with a vengeance to greet the here and now. Legolas' body once more flailed beneath his touch as the Elf cried out yet again. "No! No!"
Aragorn knelt beside the flowing stream as he drew forth his knife from the sheath about his waist. The blade still showed evidence of its earlier use as did the pack upon his back which contained the inner bark of an Elm tree. He extracted as much as time allowed him though medicinally its benefit would prove far more valuable if allowed the chance to be dried.
Now he worked likewise using his hands and then the knife to unearth some comfrey root. The plant had been easy to find even in the lingering darkness of night. Its leafy stems stood about two to three feet in height and favored the marshy lands surrounding flowing riverbeds and streams. Stout and angular, the plant's bristly stems proved bothersome to his uncovered hands, but he would endure its unpleasantness for the health benefits it would offer to both his friend and brother. A poultice made from the plant's fleshy inner roots, even in its present state, would act towards drawing away the infection affecting those he loved and help soothe their burns as well.
Dropping his knife momentarily toward the ground beside him, he made to use his hands to pull loose the last remaining spindle shaped tubules. His complete attentions now focused upon the immediate task in front of him. So much so, that he did not hear a stirring within the surrounding vegetation until a growl sounded next to his ear followed by the white hot heat of pain as it suddenly seared through him.
Author's Closing Notes: Well if you've reached this point then thank you for reading chapter 18. I hope you enjoyed it. Until then, Sue a.k.a Quickbeam1