Scars Chapter 22- Bleeding Heart
Disclaimer: This story is being written for enjoyment only. I do not own any of Tolkien's characters.
Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind words! As always, they are greatly appreciated. I apologize for the long wait between chapters. There were many reasons behind it, but I won't go into the details. I am posting this very late at night and have read over it many times, but please excuse any mistakes I might have missed. I hope you enjoy what follows:)
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Watching Halfdan's departure, Aragorn finally allowed himself the opportunity to clench his teeth as his breath hitched within his throat. The pain from his injury was becoming more intolerable, and with Elladan's unforeseen response to his findings with the poison, the Elf's jarring actions had reopened the wound to his side. Aragorn felt the dampness of blood once more soiling his garments beneath his borrowed cloak. He could not falter now, however, not when he had finally been handed some measure of hope, even if it be slim, that he could help his brother and Legolas.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The strength of the midday sun poured through the gaps left opened by the tree topped thicket to touch then warm the inhabitants upon the leaf strewn terrain beneath it. But the radiant orb's restoring presence offered little relief to the Ranger kneeling beside his Silvan friend as it made contact with his now hunched shoulders. His body shook, as if with cold, in sharp contrast to sun's soothing rays.
With the growing passage of time, it was becoming more and more difficult for Aragorn to conceal the betraying weaknesses of his body beneath the folds of Halfdan's green cloak. His long fingers and once sure hands now trembled as they continued tending to Legolas, so much so, that he was forced to withdraw them whenever another drew too near lest they should become aware of his diminishing capabilities. Still the Ranger worked diligently, whilst he was alone, ministering to his sick friend.
Earlier he had overseen the preparations of the infusions of dandelion and the poultices of comfrey to be used upon his brother and friend. He had even worked towards mashing down the inner bark of Elm to be applied to their burned flesh, when and if this virulent infection moving through their bodies could be drawn out of them. A few times the pestle he employed in the process had slipped from his unsteady grasp to strike against the mortar. The returning Men of his contingent, who now lent aid to his plight, did not seem to take note of these unusual stumbles on his part when stone hit against stone. All except for Hafldan, who kept an ever watchful eye upon his troubled Chieftain, his dark, soulful eyes filling with worry as time crawled on. For the most part, however, Aragorn found himself unencumbered by the hovering presence of others as his fellow Rangers allowed both he and Elladan the comfort of privacy while they tended to and lamented the declining health of those who suffered.
As his thoughts returned to the present, Aragorn began bathing Legolas' wounds once again. He allowed them some time to dry naturally as he readied another poultice. Placing the herbal paste between two lengths of cloth, he prayed that with its application, he'd draw out more of the purulence from the Elf's damaged flesh. The Ranger shook his head while he waited to do so in an attempt to clear the myriad of distracted thoughts that now raced through his mind. As time went on, he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what was necessary. Finally, as if driven by instinct, he applied a new dressing to Legolas' wounds, securing it in place with longer wraps of cloth.
With this task now completed, Aragorn then turned Legolas over within his arms using the utmost care his own injured body would allow. Though impaired, no one's healing touch, save his own Elven brother's, could rival the gentleness still found in his continued ministrations as Aragorn began lifting Legolas' limp form upward towards his own, painstakingly supporting the unconscious archer beneath his arms so as not to cause him any further pain. Slowly, he coaxed the somnolent Elf to open his mouth and drink down some more of the dandelion infusion, as he had done a short time earlier with the willow bark tea, before wiping away the excess moisture that had trickled from Legolas' slack lips, when his offering proved too much for Elf to swallow or his own hand had shook too badly to hold the vessel steady. When Legolas had consumed enough of the herbal brew to satisfy his heedful friend, Aragorn carefully laid the Elf's body back down once again upon the bed of tender brush beneath them. Aragorn's own strength was now nearly spent as he watched and waited beside his friend ever hopeful for some sign of progress, some turn in these mournful events. The increased output Legolas' body exhibited from the steady influx of healing brews Aragorn had plied him with had stirred some hope within the Human. Yet this newfound optimism was short lived as upon closer inspection Aragorn found that the flesh surrounding Legolas' abdomen still appeared distended and discolored from the poisons at work within his system. Sadly, the Ranger's discerning gaze could not perceive any notable improvement in the archer's condition during these last hours, nor did Legolas' continuing bouts with delirium offer any comfort towards Aragorn's heightened anxiety.
Taking a brief respite from his efforts at healing, Aragorn's wistful grey eyes strayed towards where Elrohir now laid. It was there that Aragorn encountered the forbidding presence of Elladan once again. The Elf's strong back was turned towards him like a barricade as he knelt by his twin's side offering equal comfort and assistance. Not once in the hours succeeding Aragorn's discovery with the poison had his eldest brother turned towards him in renewed commitment. Save only the time needed whilst he listened grimly as Aragorn went on to explain the healing methods necessary to be used upon Elrohir. But after that brief bit of information had been exchanged, Elladan had turned from him once again and continued tending their Elven brother without uttering any further comment.
Aragorn swallowed the rising hurt which clogged his throat. The pain of their recent altercation was too raw at present for either Man or Elf to easily surmount it. He had not meant to anger his eldest brother through his actions. Didn't Elladan realize this? Yet how could he allow either Elrohir or Legolas to continue suffering as they did when he claimed within his possession the possible knowledge needed to provide them relief? Yes, he acknowledged that his methods of discovery were unorthodox and could easily be labeled as foolhardy, but surely if they brought aid to those still suffering, then the risks taken should not underscore the possible benefits derived. He wished now that Elladan could see this, and that this staggering divide between them could be bridged.
Aragorn dropped his aching head forward towards the comfort of his now empty hands. He could desperately use some of Elladan's unfailing strength at this moment as his own continued to ebb dangerously low. In growing misery he allowed his now faltering fingers to rub against the clamminess of his own flesh, before sliding them beneath the weight of his equally sweat-dampened hair. Making contact with his now throbbing temples, he did his best to press the roughened pads of his fingertips against the pain he found there in an attempt soothe then massage the discomfort away along with the increasing blurriness to his vision. His efforts provided little relief. He was unsure how much longer he could keep up this false pretense that all was well. Earlier, when he had been afforded a brief moment of concealment, he had reached beneath the cloak he wore and attempted to retie the sullied binding around his middle in the hopes of staunching any further flow of blood from his wound. But as the weariness affecting grew more and more pronounced, he surmised that his covert attempt at aiding himself had provided too little help too late. His body was beginning to shut down. He would not be able to keep up at this present pace much longer. Yet drawing a sobering breath, he endeavored to put on a brave face while seeking to renew whatever vigor was left to him. He prayed that the Valar would see fit to fortify him likewise.
It was while he was kneading his own suffering flesh, that his distracted attentions were once again called back to the forefront as a cry of anguish sounded beneath him. Quickly focusing his startled gaze towards the ground below, he witnessed Legolas in the throes of torment. The Silvan Elf lay before him writhing in delirium as he desperately called out, "Estel? Estel? Where have you gone to, mellon-nin ?"
Immediately, Aragorn's healing hands dropped back down towards his friend as he tried to still the Elf's agitated motions, while issuing forth tired words of comfort.
"I am here, Legolas. I have not left you, my friend. I only took a brief moment to tend to my own needs. Forgive me. I am here."
Vacant blue eyes stared upward toward the Ranger's own, though nothing within their depths provided evidence that the Elf knew of Aragorn's continued existence at his side as Legolas sobbed inconsolably. "I cannot not find you, Estel! Where have you vanished to? I shall not allow this demon to take you from me!"
With this keening vow proclaimed, Legolas lunged forward exhibiting in his desperation an unusual display of strength, well beyond that which was thought capable for one in his present condition. Using this astonishing momentum, the archer's hands flew forward to wrestle with Aragorn. The Ranger almost doubled over as the Elf's long fingers curled cruelly into the material beneath his cloak stealing Aragorn's breath away. Agony washed over Human with their contact, but at the very last moment, Aragorn found the reserve needed to remain upright as he used his still superior strength to battle against Legolas' punishing hold. Frantically, he attempted to calm Legolas with his words not wanting to harm his friend further, but his speaking voice was now punctuated by pain as he finally succeeded in dragging the Elf's still clawing hands free from his own body.
"No one… has taken… me… from… you…, Legolas… It is… I…I am… here…I have not… left… your side. You must…believe…me! " The Ranger rasped through clenched teeth as he tried to hold back the inarticulate cry of pain threatening to escape.
Aragorn's stilted words proved meaningless to the distraught Elf, as his fever bright eyes zeroed in upon the telltale stain now spreading across his quivering palms. "No!" Legolas muttered in shocked disbelief, while the prior outpouring of energy, which had sustained him in the seconds preceding, rapidly fled his ailing body, and fatigue and debility took their toll. "No!" he whispered grievously. "Blood has been spilled this day! You have done this! You have done this to him! Where have you taken my friend?" The archer demanded weakly, the fight now leaving him completely as his weary arms fell back towards his sides; his once flailing hands now marred by the rusty wash of blood, standing out in stark contrast to his own pallid flesh.
"No!" The Elf cried in torment yet again. "You shall not take him from me! Do you hear me? I will find him and when I do, you shall pay for what you've done to him! You will not win! I will hunt you down. You will find no peace as long as I draw breath!" And with this final threat, the Elf's previous jerky movements ceased altogether, and his glazed blue eyes dropped closed once more.
"I am here, Legolas, beside you, my friend." Aragorn bit out roughly as he tried to compensate for the spiraling pain left over from Legolas' unforeseen attack while attempting to break through the stifling haze surrounding his friend. "How can I make you see this?" The Ranger heaved in frustration, his breath now coming in short, ragged gasps. Reaching down to take quick hold of an unused length of cloth, Aragorn hurriedly wiped away any lingering traces of his own blood from Legolas' hands and arms before discarding it to the pile of sullied rags beside them. When at last he felt himself beginning to regain some control over his shaken faculties, he moved a hand forward to clasp one of Legolas' own while muttering emotionally. "I am with you, Legolas! Yet, how can I make you aware of this when these dark illusions continue to haunt you so? What can I do to ease your troubled mind, mellon-nin? For I fear that any gains your weary body strives to make shall become forfeit to the darkness they hold over you... I am with you, Legolas! Please, you must see this!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Though not turning toward it, Elladan was well aware of this latest disturbance taking place behind him. 'Aragorn must have had his hands full since its culmination,' his Elven brother lamented. This current hallucination had not gone well, though it had not been unprecedented. For throughout these waxing hours of watching and waiting, Legolas, in his delirium, had cried out numerous times in pained torment. Yet this last episode had been the loudest and longest of them all and had eerily held the most clarity. The raven-haired Elf shuddered as the fair-haired archer's portentous warning echoed once again inside his head. He had called out for Estel…warning him, notifying him of some unforeseen menace which lay in wait of him. What had their fair-haired friend witnessed during these fevered delusions of his to cause him such continuing distress?
Elladan's anxious musings were cut suddenly short as he felt the brush of one of Elrohir's bandaged hands against his own forearm. Looking down at his now waking twin, Elladan whispered. "Welcome back." It heartened the elder Elf that his younger brother's grey eyes were more and more lucid with each growing interval of revival.
"What is happening?" Elrohir's weakened voice questioned.
"You are recovering from the burns you sustained in the fire," Elladan answered him quietly.
"I know that, brother." Elrohir replied while shaking his still muzzy head before licking his now dry lips. "What I meant to say, was what was that commotion taking place just short moments ago? Its disturbance awakened me."
"I am sorry," Elladan murmured, as he stroked his brother's dampened hair away from his still warm face while trying to gauge his further response before answering Elrohir's pressing inquiry. But with the increasing clarity now afforded him, Elrohir could surmise that his elder brother was trying to hold back something of importance.
"Where are Legolas and Estel?" He pressed on compellingly while acknowledging Elladan's continued hesitancy. Elrohir then added forthrightly, "Do not hold the truth back from me, Elladan, for I am well enough to bear its full weight." Sensing something further was amiss, Elrohir concluded for himself "Legolas, does not fare as well as I do, does he? Estel is with him, is he not? I know this, for it was Legolas who first showed the signs of these adverse symptoms. This is no simple reaction to the burns we sustained, is it, Elladan? There is something more foul at work here." His younger twin probed further.
"There is no holding back from you, is there, brother?" Elladan answered before continuing on, "For you possess Father's uncanny ability to read any given situation. No, this was no simple reaction to the burns you sustained. The water from the well, which we used to wash your wounds initially, was poisoned by the Orc invaders. We did not know this and thus both you and Legolas were exposed to its toxicity."
"Sweet Ebereth," Elrohir groaned, before turning fever bright eyes back toward his brother. "And what of Estel?" He inquired anxiously.
"He blames himself." Elladan answered.
"But why? He could not have known…"
"Yes, I've tried to explain thus to him…" Elladan concluded wearily as he hastily attempted to cut short his explanation, not wanting in his growing agitation to reveal any further clues that might lead up to Elrohir's unanticipated discovery of the altercation which took place between Aragorn and himself.
But even in his illness, Elrohir was not to be fooled by his brother's hesitancy. Elladan's anguished appearance read like a book. "The two of you have had words, haven't you?" Elrohir retorted succinctly as Elladan opened his mouth to deny such an accusation. Elrohir then went on to elaborate, "No, Elladan, do not try to placate me with untruths. I know you, brother. But why, why would you have argued?" His younger twin urged him on in explanation.
"Because our little brother was reckless once again…"
"Was Estel hurt?" Elrohir anxiously cut in.
"No, he was not." Elladan breathed a sigh of relief in an attempt to reassure his twin forthrightly, though he himself did not feel such ease of emotion. 'At least not yet,' He added silently, thankful that he was at least capable of keeping some of this ugly truth to himself and not burden Elrohir further with its weight. "Let's just say, I do not appreciate the rash methods he employs."
"You never have," Elrohir responded directly, unable to keep a small smile from crossing his wan features as some of his youngest brother's youthful exuberance returned to memory. Then turning solemn eyes once again upon his brother, the raven-haired Elf asked. "What have the two of you done this time? No, there is no use denying it, Elladan, for you wear your heart upon your sleeve where Estel is concerned."
'We had words…well at least I did, for I did not allow him his say once again." Shaking his head with the return of misery, Elladan went on to state. "Why is it that I allow his foolhardy actions to cut me so close to the quick, Elrohir? I cannot hold my tongue where he's concerned…I say the first thing that comes to mind… and often times its ugly…I can brutally berate and admonish him… At times I believe I could almost throttle him for scaring me so…. I almost did today…which wasn't my intention at all. What I really wanted to do was warn him…keep him safe… Why is it that I'm forever pushing him away, when all I really long to do is draw him closer? I don't' understand this… Am I losing my mind, brother?"
"No, Elladan," Elrohir answered accordingly. "You love him. It's as simple as that…perhaps more so than the rest of us, if that's possible. His actions hit too close to heart for you…strike a nerve, though I know it is not his intent to hurt you."
"I know this…I know this…" Elladan lamented. "Yet through my impulsiveness, I've created distance between us again. You'd think I'd have learned from my past mistakes. Our race is known for its sagacious wisdom, so how do you explain my being overlooked when Eru passed out this virtue to all the other Firstborn? You were right, Elrohir, when you once claimed I was thick headed…"
Elrohir laughed before licking his dry lips once again "Thick headed perhaps, but big hearted as well… and much more the latter than the former, my brother…Now please do me a favor before we continue further with this matter, though I cannot believe I'm actually asking this… My mouth and throat are unbearably dry, as though they were stuffed with cotton. Would you please see if Estel's Man can brew me some more of that awful tea of his?" Elladan raised a finely arched eyebrow in disbelief as his younger twin concluded with, "For my thirst is strong, and I'm strangely developing an acquired taste for that bitter offering of his…"
A stifled chuckle then a small smile spread across Elladan's previously grave features at his brother's unusual request, thankful for this brief reprieve before revealing further the actions leading up to his contention with their youngest brother. Elrohir smiled in return. It was so good to see some of this heavy burden lifted from Elladan's shoulders if only for a moment.
"Are you sure?" Elladan responded, though at present he could deny his twin nothing, his relief at Elrohir's more certain recovery was now so strong.
"Yes, I am sure." Elrohir answered as his eyes began to flutter shut signaling the return of his fatigue.
"Then I shall fetch some for you forthrightly, though I cannot promise I'll be able to stomach its abominable stench as I return it to you."
"Do your best." Elrohir retorted wryly as he opened tired, grey eyes once again and watched Elladan move off towards the ring of fire some yards in the distance. He knew full well that his brother's prior words held little truth from his shadowy recollections of the preceding hours. During this time, Elladan had not left his side, hovering over him while desperately trying to coax and cajole him into taking small sips of differing medicinal brews.
"We were almost parted." Elrohir acknowledged acutely, tearing up while he observed the now blurring image of his brother's retreating form. The raven-haired Elf grimly realized how very close he had come to being separated from all, whom he held close to heart. It was little wonder that Elladan's nerves were so frayed. His brother had just cause to feel as he did. After losing their mother so many years earlier with her premature departure to the Undying Lands, Elladan had become almost territorial in his unfailing devotion towards ensuring the continued safety of his remaining family. Unfortunately for Estel, he suffered the lion's share of his eldest brother's heightened concern most likely because of the differences in their births and constitutions. Estel, however, had not been the first of the Race of Men whom Elladan had felt an affinity with, but he was the very first mortal, whom the raven-haired Elf had ever considered as one of his own, though a blood tie did not exist between the two. One would never know this, however, except from the physical differences in their make ups. Along with their father, both he and Elladan had been deciding forces while Aragorn had been fostered in Imladris during his formative years. The Human, during this same time, had managed to take a fast hold upon their hearts as well and held custody to them ever since.
Turning his weakened head, Elrohir tried to deal with the double vision that such a slight movement still afforded him. When the world at last came into focus, Elrohir attempted to determine the location of his missing brother. "Estel?" He murmured. His search did not prove difficult, for only a short distance away, Aragorn knelt upon the ground, hunched over the still figure of Legolas. Even though his keen eyesight was yet being hampered by the lingering effects of the Orcs' hateful poisons running afoul through his body, Elrohir could perceive how haggard his youngest brother appeared, his drawn face pale with worry.
The Elf's building thirst had been a deciding factor at play when he had asked Elladan to retrieve more tea for him, but the calculating Elf had a further impetus in mind as well, not nearly as fond of the bitter brew as he had claimed earlier. With Elladan away, it would give him ample opportunity to seek out Aragorn without Elladan's foreknowledge. Elrohir wanted to help sort out this difference between his two brothers. The only obstacle facing him now was gaining Aragorn's attention. Immediately, Elrohir attempted to struggle into a sitting position, but his damaged hands and his weakened state miserably thwarted such a plan from coming to fruition. Yet unbeknownst to the Elf, Aragorn had been looking up at this precise moment and had taken notice of his Elven brother's feeble exertions, believing them to be the result of continued delirium on Elrohir's part while noting Elladan's sudden absence from their brother's side. The concerned Ranger doggedly pushed aside the tiresome pain and heartache consuming his weakening body, and made for his brother's side.
"Easy Elrohir," He gasped with his arrival as if suddenly out of breath, before dropping down to his brother's side. "Relax and lie still… All will be alright." The Ranger encouraged.
"No, you do not understand…" Elrohir attempted to speak out as he felt Aragorn's usually strong hands take awkward hold of his slim shoulders. Gently the Ranger attempted to push him back towards the bed of tender brush, which he had been previously resting upon, while attempting to check for continued fever. With their brief contact, Elrohir immediately felt the odd tremors affecting his brother's usually steady hands, and just as quickly his concerned gaze shot forward to take in his brother's ashen countenance.
"You are not well, Estel?" Elrohir immediately cut in as he ascertained his brother's pale features accentuated by the dark circles lying beneath now listless eyes.
Dropping his betraying hands quickly towards his side, Aragorn noted the increased clarity now marking Elrohir's searching gaze, and instantly he tried to dispel his brother's findings. "No…I am well enough, Elrohir. It is nothing…..really…" Then noting the Elf's continuing doubt, he finished with "What troubles me is lack of sleep alone, nothing more."
"You run yourself ragged…you always have…placing stringent demands upon your body, the likes of which no other mortal Man could possibly hope to rival. Do not do yourself any further harm, brother, but think of your own health and seek some rest…" Elrohir now urged.
Aragorn shook his head while a toothy grin began to spread across his tired face warming his weatherworn features and erasing some of the previous anxiety affecting his Elven brother. Here he rushed to his brother's aid, and it was Elrohir, now, urging him to take his ease. If Elrohir felt up to reprimanding him, then his brother must indeed be recovering. The thought immediately lightened his downtrodden spirits.
"Do not worry, Elrohir, I shall once you and Legolas are well on the road to recovery. Then I will allow myself the chance at rest…the excesses of which have never been witnessed before in the all of Imladris…"
"Ah, but our bodies, unless injured, do not require the same requisite pattern of rest as those of your own Race, Estel. But I shall hold you to your promise, even if I have to tie you down to one of Father's chaise upon the portico." Elrohir retorted lightheartedly, unknowingly accepting the bait that Aragorn held out to him by shifting his present attentions away from the Human's current state of health.
Smiling back once again, Aragorn answered. "I am glad to find you in better health, brother." Then looking worriedly off in the direction from whence he came, the Human finished with, "Forgive me, brother, but I must return to Legolas."
"He does not recover likewise?" Elrohir inquired.
"No.." Aragorn responded despondently. "He does not recover at all… I have failed him." The Ranger finished, his voice breaking with the admission.
"You are being too harsh upon yourself." Elrohir contested.
"Am I? Perhaps…" The Human retorted distractedly, unconvinced that the blame should lie anywhere else but upon his shoulders. "Not only does he suffer physically," Aragorn then went on to elaborate, his face darkening with the torment of this knowledge" but mentally as well, being plagued by disturbing visions."
"How so?" Elrohir queried, his own countenance now turning melancholy from the news Aragorn conveyed to him.
Aragorn's tired eyes shone appreciatively at his Elven brother's concern, grateful at last to be able to share a small portion of the burden weighing down upon him. How so like Elrohir. He had always been there for Aragorn in the past when he needed a friendly ear with which to discuss his troubles, and now here he was again, offering the very same comfort when he so desperately needed it even if the Elf still struggled with illness. Remembering this last point, Aragorn cut short his explanation stating simply.
"Legolas is suffering with delirium. He calls out to me…seeking my presence when I am right beside him. Though I tried to explain this circumstance to him, he hears it not, believing some foul predator has taken me away from him… I know not why such adverse dreams are affecting him, except to blame it upon the fever's doings. Alas, he has not the strength to fight off the illness and these demons as well. I fear for him, Elrohir… He is slipping away."
Aragorn was unprepared for the look of horror that now crossed his Elven brother's fine features as what little color Elrohir possessed suddenly drained from him.
"Elrohir!" Aragorn gasped his dismay as he made to spring forward, fearful now for Elrohir's continued wellbeing.
The Elf, however, held up a quavering hand to stave off his brother's further progress as he attempted to recover himself. Elrohir's actions couldn't have proven more precipitous, for with Aragorn's hasty reaction to this turn of events, came the sudden return of side splitting pain. It was the Valar's doing alone that the Ranger was able to remain upright a second time and not sprawl forward at his brother's feet. With his breath tightening in his chest, Aragorn tried to breathe through the tearing pain affecting him. In time, it became slightly more manageable, although his heart continued hammering erratically within his chest as a cold sweat broke out once again upon his flesh sending a shiver up his spine. But the most disturbing manifestation of all was the dampness of blood that now flowed forth in fingertip rivulets from his wounded side to touch his hip before seeping even lower to sodden the material covering his lap and thigh. It was only Elrohir's distracted attention that kept the usually discriminating Elf from observing these adverse reactions within his Human brother.
Suddenly, Erohir spoke up; his pale face clouded by anguish.
Struggling with his own rising disabilities, the raven-haired Elf's voice registered as little more than a disturbing buzz within Aragorn's now pounding head. But as his brother's distressing confession continued on, more and more of its pertinent words began to slip through the Ranger's hazy senses.
"Forgive me, brother….I did not mean to hurt him by telling him thus….but when Elladan found you with the girl…and when he told me of the atrocities she suffered….He was devastated….for he remembered too….remembered how he let you down… when you were a child…I did not realize he still carried such guilt with him…I did not realize you suffered likewise…. And then he went off by himself to brood… needing time alone… after the girl… the fire… and seeing you touch the scar….and he was there….beside me…asking me what was wrong…wanting to know what had happened…. worried by all that had taken place… he knew I held something back…he could sense it…it was all so foreboding…like Elladan claimed…..the fire…the devastation….the stench of death hanging in the air…hovering over….stifling us…and so I began to tell him…make him understand…for he knew not about the scar….or how you lost Berior….how you struggled to stay alive…or how they tortured you…It was then that Legolas collapsed…I was about to tell him about the scar, but he collapsed before I could do so…Sweet Elbereth , I did not mean to hurt him…but he thinks…he thinks… Forgive me, Estel, for this is my doing… my doing…. It is because of me that he suffers now with these dark emotions…"
Aragorn remained transfixed with pain staring at his Elven brother. His stark features now void of all emotion including astonishment at Elrohir's unexpected revelation, his grey eyes alone betraying the birth of the tumultuous feelings growing within him. Surely the girl's unforeseen death had stirred up startling emotions within him, but he had not allowed his mind to dwell upon such feelings. For the life of him, he could not have anticipated Elladan coming upon him during those moments of grief and weakness when he had tried to deal with their immediate repercussions. And now Legolas…What he must think? Opening his mouth, Aragorn had trouble finding his voice as his tortured eyes, observed Elrohir's obvious torment and guilt. Then muttering brokenly, Aragorn replied, "Forgive me…forgive me, Elrohir…but I must go to him now… I must make him understand what really happened before it's too late…I must go!…"
Elrohir only nodded his agreement, his own grey eyes swimming with grief. When he had started out earlier relating this unhappy tale to Legolas, he could not have predicted its devastating consequence, only realizing now its weighty effect. At that time, he had only sought an outlet for his own distress. Now his Silvan friend believed the worst to have happened…his fevered dreams haunted by its likely outcome… Oh how he wished he had held his tongue…
Elrohir was now so caught up by these daunting misgivings that he failed to see the great difficulty it took his Human brother to get back up upon his feet. Nor did he witness the unsteady gait which plagued the Ranger's growing steps as he took off towards his friend once again. And lastly, he did not he take note of the scattered flecks of crimson now staining the ground about him where only moments before Aragorn had been in his attendance.
TBC
Author's Closing Notes: Well if you've reached this point, then thank you for reading chapter 22. :) I hope you enjoyed it and that there weren't too many glaring errors. The majority of this chapter has been written for close to a week, and has been torn apart, edited, and re-edited. Unfortunately, I made some major revisions tonight, so I hope everything makes sense. My eyes, however, are drifting shut.
Thank you all once again for your continued kind words and feedback. It is so nice to hear what you think about 'Scars'. I apologize for not reaching the revelation once again. I was afraid that if I included it, this chapter would be mega-long and I might not get it posted for at least another week at the earliest. I have work, meetings and family commitments ahead of me, so I felt it best to end chapter 22 here. Come hell or high water that revelation should come next chapter. (I hope) squeak
Well until next time, Sue a.k.a. Quickbeam 1 :)