Scars 23-All Alone With the Memory
Disclaimer: This story is being written for enjoyment only. I do not own any of Tolkien's characters.
Author's Note: Thank you for your kind words regarding chapter 22. As always they are most appreciated! I'd like to issue a WARNING to everyone before reading Chapter 23. This chapter once again goes back to explore the past, and with this return, there will be some mention of an attempted sexual assault against a character and also there will be some violence and a few graphic mentions of injuries sustained.
It is my hope always that you enjoy what follows.
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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 within him. Surely the girl's unforeseen death had stirred up startling emotions within him, but he had not allowed his mind to go any further with them. For the life of him, he could not have anticipated Elladan coming upon him during those dark moments of grief and weakness when he had tried to cope with their lingering 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 guilt and torment. 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 that night 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 now did he realize its weighty effect. At that moment, he had only sought an outlet for his own distress; one that Legolas had unselfishly offered up to him. Now his Silvan friend believed the worst to have happened…his fevered dreams haunted by its likely outcome… Oh how the raven-haired Elf wished he had held his tongue…had never mentioned a word about what had happened that dreadful night.
Elrohir was now so consumed by these daunting emotions that he failed to see the great difficulty in which it took his Human brother to get back up onto his feet. Nor did he witness the unsteady gait that plagued the Ranger's growing steps as he took off towards his friend once again, and lastly did not he take note of the scattered flecks of crimson now staining the ground beneath him where only moments before Aragorn had been in his attendance.
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In the distance, Halfdan tried to keep a close watch over the senior Ranger's actions, witnessing now how shaky his Chieftain's movements had become as he crossed his way back towards the fair-haired Elf. Never before had he observed such vulnerability exhibited by his commander. It left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Strider would not be able to stay upon his feet much longer, not being injured as he was. The possible blood loss he experienced alone was enough to bring down a man twice his weight in stones, but fever and fatigue must by now be playing deciding factors also. It astounded him how Strider had been able to keep the growing seriousness of his condition concealed for as long as he had. Yet, during the few, brief years he had been associated with this Dunadan , he had been witness to many amazing feats carried out by this particular Man.
The younger Ranger gritted his teeth in utter frustration. He had pledged earlier not to interfere in this matter, but what if Strider had pushed himself too far this time? Unlike a cat, his Chieftain did not possess nine lives. Surely these Elves held a place of importance with Strider, though Halfdan did not quite understand the root of their relationship. But was this historical deference between them worth risking his leader's own present state of health and perhaps the solvency of their group? Did Halfdan not hold an obligation towards the well being his fellow Rangers? If it came to it, the loss of Strider's life would bear down heavily upon their contingent. To try and replace his strong command during these troubled times might prove ruinous to their faction; perhaps invoking infighting and division among their ranks. Oath or no oath, Halfdan could not allow this enforced silence to continue much longer…not without devastating consequences possibly resulting.
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Staggering to a halt, Aragorn gazed hesitantly down upon Legolas' ailing form. The fair-haired archer at present was not being plagued by the torment of late. But, for how much longer would this false sense of calm last? Knowing now the fountainhead from which his friend's troubling dreams sprung, the Ranger could not leave it to chance that all might rest well. He could not withhold from the archer the words that needed to be spoken, that needed validation, though he had no way of knowing how they might ultimately affect his friend. Would they provide Legolas with the comfort needed and allow him at last to take the steps necessary towards recovery? Or, would they provide the Elf with a final outlet to slip away from this world? The pain of this latter scenario rocked Aragorn to the very core, yet still the Ranger could not hold back and allow selfish motive to stand in the way of what was right…what needed to done.
A huge weight of responsibility pressed heavily down upon the Man's already troubled shoulders. Ironic, wasn't it… the many years he had spent fleeing from such accountability... living his life out among the Wilds. Now here it was yet again, looking him square in the face. He could not avoid it… He would not shirk away from this duty.
Collapsing to his knees, Aragorn reached forward to take one of Legolas' lifeless hands between his two trembling own. For a moment, the Ranger agonized over how it never had been his initial intent to relegate such dark memories to the far reaches of his psyche. He had done so to protect another. Over time, he had found it easier to block out their undesired existence completely or at least pretend that he had. Many years of careful discipline had allowed him to do thus. Yet had he been emotionally protecting himself as well by doing so? Slowly, the Ranger allowed his previously stringent guard to falter as he thought back to when it was that he had come to make such a momentous decision. It had been following a late night encounter between his father and Elladan following his brother's absence from Rivendell. Neither Elf had realized he overheard their emotionally charged exchange. They thought him to be at rest again. He had been sleeping earlier, but dark dreams of his frightening first encounter with the Orcs had returned to haunt him… awakening him in panic ….flooding him with memories of events so appalling that they best remained forgotten..
Many a night he had been plagued by similar, troubling visions, but his father had always been on hand to quiet these late night terrors, comforting him and reassuring him that he was safe at home once more. Lord Elrond had always come forth to hush his anguished cries of torment while soothing the tremors of fright that raced through his quaking body. His father would hold him fast within the safety of his embrace as their ugliness played out in his head. The Elf Lord's gentle hands did their best to quiet his shaking frame or smooth back errant locks of his dark hair as he worked to placate the staggering emotions that raced through his young son's body and mind. On the worst of nights, when Elrond had not been able to break through the paralyzing fear gripping Aragorn, the Lord of Imladris had sung to him, using the sweet clarity of his voice to cut through the darkness encroaching him and quiet the uncontrollable sobs coursing through his body. The melody he sung had been a simple one, but Aragorn had carried its words and tune with him ever since. They still provided him with the comfort of home even during his darkest days abroad. Perhaps that was why he had chosen himself to sing them to Legolas earlier, when his friend had been wracked by similar torment. He had hoped to provide the archer with equal comfort when all other means were lost to him.
Yet one troubling night when his father had not heard his tortured cries, had not come in time to rescue him from his ongoing torment, another took his place. He had been blanketed yet again by the oppressive anxiety weighing down upon him, had felt himself drowning in its bleak darkness. He could not breathe. It was as if the Orc's cruel arm was pressed once again against his throat, cutting off his every attempt to draw breath, while the beast used his knife then teeth to tear his clothes away from him. With his heart hammering frantically within his chest, he could almost feel the goblin's broken nails rake against his bare flesh,feel the heat of the demon's hot breath against the back of his neck, smell the putrid stench of the beast's rotting teeth within his nostrils. His stomach revolted precipitately, while the night clothes he wore became damp with the fear permeating his body. Tremors rocked his lean frame and gasping wildly, he tried to draw in sufficient breath, but his rising sobs cut off his desperate attempts. Shooting upwards within his bed, he made grab for the tangle of covers encircling his struggling body, believing himself trapped as the grasping hands of his tormentors returned to subdue his efforts at defense. Frantically he writhed and wrenched beneath their weight trying but failing to break free.
"Please no!" He had managed to exclaim at last, just before a pair of strong arms moved suddenly around him, drawing him forward into their protection. But the reign of terror this particular evening had been allowed to run on unfettered for too long. Instead of yielding to the comfort offered by this interloper, he had fought tooth and nail against his perceived captor. His balled fists striking against the flesh of the one whom he believed wished to harm him further. Finally, the arms about him tightened even more stilling his wild movements. Anxious words sounded above him, but he had been too far gone to register their appeal. The speaker eventually sensing this to be the case cut short his frantic message.
The next thing Aragorn felt was the embrace surrounding him become more fervent in its claim as his head was drawn towards the comfort of a strong and unyielding chest. A steady, reassuring heartbeat sounded within his one ear while an emotionally charged voice sounded within his other. Its bearer was trying to sing to him, though his troubled voice came out as little more than a choked whisper. Yet, through these stifled sobs above him, Aragorn recognized the melody attempted to be sung, and slowly he began to respond to it, allowing himself at last to let down his guard and relax. His previously balled fists loosening up slightly before closing up again to take a tight hold of the silken robe they found beneath them as the boy held for dear life. Gradually his staggered breathing began to slow along with the frantic thumping within his chest until at last, his dazed grey eyes opened and revealed to him his savoir. Even before glancing upward, he knew it not to be his father, who held him within the safety of his embrace.
"Elladan?" He responded warily upon first noting his eldest brother's grief stricken face above him. But, Aragorn said no more after witnessing the tears, which rolled down his brother's pale cheeks to wet his own dark hair and troubled countenance. Elladan kept a tense hold about him, repeating time and again the remembered melody while rocking him within the safety of his arms. The raven-haired Elf would not relinquish his claim upon his youngest brother for a very long time afterwards, but kept holding onto the child long past the time that the last tremor of fright left the boy's worn body, long past the last sob escaped from his aching throat. Aragorn did not dare to stir any further, for the last thing he wanted to do was let go of this closeness he shared with Elladan. He had been denied it for so long. He would gladly risk any cramping muscles in his lower limbs so as to prolong this precious embrace. For, it marked that Elladan had at last begun to forgive him for all that he had done and what he had failed to do in the Wilderness, for all of his shortcomings including the loss of the dearest treasure ever given to him.
At long last, when Aragorn could no longer keep his weariness at bay and his brother felt him grow lax within his arms, Elladan stopped singing to gently lift him away and settle him back beneath the bed covers. It was then that the boy felt the softness of his brother's lips against his forehead as he made to leave a kiss. Not totally asleep, but not wanting to interrupt this wondrous moment of reconciliation, Aragorn said not a word; his heartstrings drawn taut by need.
He had almost spoken out when next he heard Elladan preparing to leave the room, but at that very moment the presence of another was revealed as he heard Elladan's startled exclamation.
"How long have you've stood there saying nothing, Father? Or was that your ploy the whole entire time? How long were you going to let him cry out in his torment before doing something? You knew these visions continued to haunt him! You've not allowed him suffer through them like this before, have you? I cannot fathom such cruelty on your part! Since my return, I've heard you with him…known of your attempts to calm him, heard you singing to him when all else failed to work. So why then tonight, did you let his cries go unanswered?"
"I might have asked the very same question of you during each of these respective evenings, Elladan." His father responded evenly.
"Leave it father!" Elladan retorted exasperatedly.
"How can I, my son, when the hurts affecting you run deep if not deeper than those which your brother still bears? Can you not allow yourself to see this? It is you that he needs…Your presence, your care, your understanding… My words of comfort and reassurance can offer him only so much in the way of healing. To be complete, to become free of these scars, the two of you must come together and talk about what happened out there."
"You will not let this go, will you? Don't you understand…I cannot speak of it… It is not possible…not possible… How can I ask him to…" His eldest brother stammered on trying to regain some composure yet finding none before giving up totally and finally storming off.
"Avoidance shall not provide you with absolution… You cannot run from this, Elladan. Taking off to the far corners of Eraidor shall not make right what has happened." His father had called out after him to no avail.
But instead of provoking his eldest into more talk, the wise Elf's words were to take root in yet another son's fertile mind as Aragorn realized at last, 'They fight because of me… because of what I've done…because of what I failed to do…'
"And still my actions anger him…" Aragorn spoke out into the quietness surrounding him as his troubled mind returned at last to the present. But unlike before, the Ranger had come to realize almost too late he could not keep these unwanted remembrances consigned to the past forever; locked away for safe keeping lest their unpleasantness brought pain to those still vulnerable. This time another suffered as well because of his silence. It might, however, prove to be within his reach to at last do some good with these ill begotten memories. He could keep them quiet no longer.
Looking sadly down upon his suffering friend yet again, Aragorn realized that the words that Legolas most desperately needed to hear were not to be found within an Elven verse. It was up him to provide his friend with the comforting truths necessary, even if by revealing such information, he might ultimately bring about the resurgence of despair for himself and others. Did he not owe it to his friend to give this one last measure a chance no matter what consequence might result? Surely, it was better than doing nothing while Legolas continued to linger in uncertainty. If he could provide his friend with even a small measure of peace then his efforts would be worth the risk.
Eerily his father's words returned to him as he readied himself, placing his trembling hands upon Legolas' overly warm face.
"It is sometimes out of despair that we find true strength."
Aragorn swallowed hard in response to them, realizing now what he must do. Knowing his strength to be fading, he did not hold back, and closing his weary, grey eyes, he made to concentrate deeply. Quickly he said a brief prayer of intervention to Nienna, who governed over the dreams of those who were troubled. He hoped that with her help that he would be able to reach his friend. Then starting, he uttered shakily, "Listen to me, Legolas… You are being haunted by disturbing dreams, but I have come to you at last to explain that they hold no truth. It is my hope to reveal to you what really happened during those dark moments of my past, so that you may find some peace…Do not give into them, mellon-nin…but hear me…hear my words, for it was never my intent to burden you with my sorrows…"
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Cupped within his hands, Elladan carried back a steaming vessel filled with tea steeped from the bark of Willow. Halfdan had not been at the ring of fire to aid him in its preparation. But, the Rivendell Elf was not so unknowledgeable in the ways of healing that he could not prepare such a simple recipe as this without assistance, though the time he spent away from his ailing brother was longer than he had liked.
Now coming upon Elrohir, he was surprised to find his younger brother sitting up instead of laying back upon the bed of tender brush where he had left him. Elladan wondered how his twin had found the strength to rise up on his own accord especially when his hands were still burdened by such awkward bindings. As he made to put down the wooden mug within his possession upon a nearby stump and speak his inquiry, his thoughts were immediately interrupted by a heart stopping urgency. For there upon the foreground, his keen eyes caught sight of a crimson stain.
'What is this?' He had been about to voice, when his startled gaze encountered even more and more of the telltale traces of rusty dampness which dotted the flora surrounding him. Immediately he turned back towards his brother, reaching anxiously forth to grab hold of his bandage hands believing Elrohir's movements to have caused him further harm.
In the hectic moments it took the Elf to turn Elrohir's bandaged palms upward within his own, Elladan's heart sped up rapidly with renewed fright. 'But what…what was this? For his brother's bindings showed no new signs of bleeding…Where then had these most obvious blood stains come from?'
Looking up and finally noting Elrohir's haunted features, the elder Elf asked. "What….what is it, Elrohir? What has happened here?"
"Estel…he came while you were away. I meant to talk to him…to resolve this nonsense that has cropped up between the two of you once again…but he told me…told me instead of Legolas and of the dreams that were tormenting him…and I realized…realized that it was my fault that our friend was suffering so…"
"How can it be your fault?" Elladan inquired bewilderedly before continuing on. "It was not you, brother, who placed the poisons within that well…"
"No you are right…" Elrohir continued on stiltedly, "But I am just as guilty…for it was I, who placed such ugliness inside his head …relayed to him the awful truths that have so long remained buried because of their vileness…He believes, Elladan, that the Orcs sodomized Estel when he was a child…"
"What….Why…. What possible impetus would have spurred you to relate such an ugly tale to him, Elrohir?" Elladan gasped in disbelief, his throat tightening suddenly with startled emotion. "It never happened! Do you hear me?" The Elf argued, his denial vehement…"We reached him in time…We stopped them from harming him further….We stopped them…"
"Yes, yes…I know…" Elrohir broke in fervently, while grappling with the many emotions still at play inside his aching head. "Yet, still Legolas believes thus to be true. I was unable to complete the story for him… He succumbed to the effects of the poisons before I could reveal its conclusion, and because of this, he continues to believe the worst to have happened to his friend. But, Estel has gone to him to set things right…. to reveal the truth…"
"Estel was here?" Elladan pressed on urgently, his grey eyes now filling with fright.
"Yes…yes…have you not heard me, brother? Only minutes ago, he stood where you are now, but he has gone back to Legolas…I pray to Elbereth that he can make our friend understand in time…"
Wildly, Elladan's eyes turned once again to survey the drops of blood sullying the terrain about them noting with increased urgency how they grew closer and closer in proximity in a path toward where Legolas lay. "Sweet Elbereth…I must stop him!" Elladan bit out while struggling to rise to his feet.
Elrohir called out after him, hoping to stop his elder brother from interfering. "No, Elladan…let him speak of it…allow him to finally remember the truth. For, it has been buried for too long…perhaps its revelation will provide us all at last with some peace…"
But the younger twin's parting words fell upon deaf ears as Elladan raced off towards his Human brother.
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Aragorn remained hunched beside Legolas. His resolve was weakening quickly. Though his shaky hands still retained possession of Legolas' frightfully pale countenance, he struggled to maintain the bond necessary to reach Legolas. A weariness that he had never experienced before flooded his body, while his face shown grey from the increased strain he was placing upon himself. Still, he did not turn back. He was close, so close, to reaching his friend. Suddenly, it became very difficult to breath. Dropping further toward the Elf, the Ranger struggled to catch his breath.
He was there again… Alone in the darkness….Alone with the memory…They had him surrounded.
"Father!" Aragorn cried out as his eyes rolled back into his head while his body slumped forward to land upon his friend's. He was all alone in the Wild, caught once more in the trappings of the past.
The arm previously around his neck was tightening mercilessly around his chest in an excruciating hold. Darkness was once again creeping into his periphery vision, yet another image became known to him as well. It was of his father, his brothers, and behind them another. But he could not make out who this last person was due to the fog swirling about him. Still, their continued presence proved comforting amongst all the turmoil surrounding him, and he struggled against the threatening darkness to maintain his hold upon them. For, if they slipped away, so would all the hope that was left to him in this life.
"Father you are here, Elrohir and Elladan too…Do not abandon me, please…" He attempted to call out, but his efforts were stifled.
At last the compressing hold around his chest gave way and he was able to draw breath once more. As he gasped his relief, the air surrounding him was filled by the sound of fabric being rent apart. When the lingering touch of the night's damp air unexpectedly met with his chilled flesh, he realized what was being done to him. Next, came pain as an Orc blade scored down his spine splitting apart more and more of the garments he wore. Struggling to no avail, he felt the goblin's crushing hold move back around his aching neck stealing his breath away a second time. But, it was the actions of the monster's other hand that silenced briefly the erratic drumming within his chest as the beast's raking nails found the exposed flesh of his naked hip forcing Aragorn's body back towards his own. When the boy's heart resumed beating once again, the vital organ raced even more wildly than before as the mob's cruel intent at last became clear to him.
"No!" He struggled to shout out, though there was no breath left within him to voice his horror.
Desperately, he reached out for his father and brothers, even for the veiled figure who lingered within the fog willing them to come to his aid. "Father…" He attempted again, but his words were lost to the choking grasp surrounding his neck. He was going to die…but not before the Orcs had their way with him. His father, brothers, everything was now lost to him… they were fading into the swirling fog that grew deeper and denser. 'No, No!" His brain screamed out. "This cannot be happening! No! They cannot do this! Please no! Do not let them do this! No! Was I to suffer through all that I did to have it end this way?' "Please no!" His final words escaping as the beast's strong hold eased up upon his bruised throat.
And with this, everything he believed lost to him forever came rushing back with a vengeance, sweeping over him, endowing him with a fervency he believed almost impossible for him to muster. He saw everything clearly before him… his father, Elrohir, Elladan, and then at last the final figure as he stepped free of the concealing mist, his urgent, blue eyes beckoning to the boy to not give up, but fight, to fight with all that he had in him. His father's voice then spoke out to him, his forceful appeal ringing inside his head…encouraging him to look further within himself for the strength needed to confront that, which was now before him.
"It is sometimes out of despair, Estel, that we find true strength."
Knowing that his final moment had come, Aragorn moved his frenzied grip away from the forearm seeking to asphyxiate him and down towards his own waist. Frantically his hand searched through his severed garments towards what he hoped might provide him the means to exact his escape. He was not to be disappointed as his palm touched the sureness of the handle of his hunting knife given to him three years earlier by Elladan. Withdrawing it swiftly, he curled into his distracted opponent unleashing a drive not to be matched by one as injured as he.
The element of surprise was on his side as he plunged the knife towards his captor's loosened garments, piercing the thick, exposed flesh beneath it. Still Aragorn did not let up upon his assault, for he could not merely disable his opponent. His shaky hand continued grasping the blade within his possession tightly, forcing it downward as it slashed through his victim's abdomen making sure he dealt this Orc a death blow. The boy was surprised by the physical strength needed to take the life of another, but he did not relent until the blade finally came free, sullied with the Orc's crude blood. His attacker teetered backwards roaring his shock and pain while desperately moving his hands downward to try and check the foul emptying of his belly onto the turf beneath them. His actions proved useless as more black blood rushed forward followed by a section of his severed bowel.
A swirl of unexpected activity, charging from the rear, distracted Aragorn's attentions momentarily away from his brief success. Suddenly, he found his precarious efforts at keeping balanced give way, and his injured leg buckled beneath him. The prior surge of adrenaline that had fed his earlier fury rapidly deteriorated and left him bereft. He could keep afoot no longer and began tumbling forward towards the ground. Out of the corner of his tearing eye, he caught sight of a dark blur of movement come careening towards his face. Instantly his head snapped backwards with its impact, and pain once more assaulted his senses. His world turned dark as he began to slip away. He was falling, falling, falling towards a dark void, which waited to swallow him up.
The next thing he remembered was coming too briefly. He started at the feeling of finding himself being hauled into the arms of another believing that the Orcs had once again took hold of him. Moving his head in resistance he gagged on the metallic taste filling his mouth and throat. . "Where…." He started to question until excruciating pain grabbed hold of him once more, stealing his breath away…
Grabbing towards his injured side, he tried to stem its tide. Then looking upward, he found Elladan hovering above him. His brother's strong arms were wrapped tightly about him, cradling him fast. His confusion now rampant, Aragorn whispered roughly "Where…where have they gone to?"
"Who, Estel? Who do you speak of?" Elladan replied worriedly as his free hand moved quickly towards his brother's garments pushing back the concealing cloak which covered his brother's lean frame to locate the source of bleeding beneath it. There was blood everywhere inhibiting the Elf's search. It soaked through his brother's clothing, covered his hands, and even soiled the white linen of the bandage surrounding Legolas' chest and shoulders where only seconds before he had pulled his now dazed brother from atop his friend.
"They were here….here but a moment ago…I used your knife…I was able to kill one of them… Aragorn rambled on apprehensively, wary lest his Orc captors should suddenly return to stalk both he and Elladan now. Argh!" Aragorn cried out hoarsely. The return of pain cutting short his efforts at speech as Elladan finally found the source of his injury.
"Dear Elbereth!" Elladan exclaimed loudly, his own hand coming back to him bloodstained as the Elf finally realized the extent of the wound his brother had sustained. "Why…why did you not say something, Estel?" Elladan stammered as he looked back towards the frightfully, pale face staring up at him.
Reaching forward with an unsteady hand, the Ranger tried to allay his Elven brother's growing fear. "I didn't want to hurt you… I thought by saying nothing…." But, Aragorn could continue no further. What little strength he had managed to hold onto was fleeing from him at last. He held no control over his body. His limbs were trembling violently, and he was seized with cold. An alarming buzz began sounding within his head once again, its droning growing louder and louder with each passing second until he could think no more. Then there was nothing, nothing, nothing but darkness and cold and pain…
TBC
Author's Closing Notes: Well if you've reached this point, then I thank you for reading Chapter 23. I hope you enjoyed it. It proved to be a very difficult chapter to write. I've had it written for about a week now, but I've torn it apart more times than I'd care to recollect.
I apologize that it took so long to finally get to the realization of what happened to Aragorn in his past. But I did give some hints about it the preceding chapters as to how Aragorn had stopped himself from being raped by the Orcs until his brothers arrived to save him. I was wondering if any of you picked up on the previous mentions of the hunting knife that he carried and how it was Elladan's gift to him? I hope you did. So his brother saved him in more ways than one, though Elladan has yet to realize this.
From this chapter onward until the eventual conclusion of this story, I'll be dealing with three separate journeys towards hopefully healing for Aragorn, Elladan, and finally Legolas.
Until next time! Sue- a.k.a. Quickbeam1 :)