Title: More than Blood
Prompt: #98 - Blood / Mellon Fic 100
Author: TrinityTheSheDevil
Rating: PG13 just in case
Genre: Drama, General
Characters: Aragorn, Elrond
Disclaimer: Not mine, at all.
Summary: The ties of blood ...
Warning(s): Corny-ness flows freely here.

A/N: Dedicated to Rhonda. My apology fic for killing Elrond in the "Fixed" and "Broken" prompts. Not that I'm actually sorry for killing him since it was fun to do, but I feel I must do something to make the wench feel better after her crappy day.

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There was so much blood. It gushed between his fingers, making them slick and sticky; it ran down the pale skin in rivers and streams, pooling below the still body. One part of his brain wondered how such a substance could be so vital to life but he ignored the voice in favor of stopping the flow of the precious fluid. The wound was great; it amazed him that the man was still breathing after having been struck down as he was.

"A-ada ... " The slurred words came so softly that Elrond almost missed them. He did not slow in his work trying to save Aragorn's life as he replied.

"Hush, my Estel. Save your strength!"

"It hurts ... " Aragorn weakly tried to shift away from the pain, away from Elrond's hand that was pressed down against his chest. He groaned aloud at the additional pain that caused and decided to stay still for the time being.

"I know, ion nin. I can not risk giving you anything for the pain, lest you fall unconscious and never awaken again." Sorrow filled Elrond's eyes as he gazed down on his son, who was almost writhing in agony. To make matters much worse, the arrow that Aragorn had stepped in front of was meant for him. His son had saved his life ... but Elrond hoped, nay he prayed, that the cost was not too high. That Aragorn did not die from this wound ... if he did, Elrond would never be able to forgive himself.

"Not ... your fault." Estel murmured, turning his head to the side. A small trickle of blood ran from his lips, causing Elrond to cry out. So much blood ... there was just so much ...

"Stay with me, Estel. Do not leave me." Elrond nearly sobbed. "You cannot die! You are the last great hope for Middle Earth ... without you, all shall perish! You cannot leave your duties unattended ... you cannot leave me, my son!"

In desperation, Elrond placed his hands over Estel's chest. He concentrated, pouring all of his own energy and strength into the man below him. Would it be enough though? He did not know; he only knew that he would do anything at this point to save the life of his son. On and on he kept at it, while muttering words of encouragement to the injured man. The minutes passed into hours and as time went by, he was gradually drained of his strength. When he could go on no further, he collapsed in exhaustion, lying near Aragorn.

With a shaking hand, he lifted the edge of the ripped tunic, gazing at the wound. It was with great relief that he noticed the wound had healed somewhat; it was still a life threatening injury if not tended to, but at least now Aragorn had a chance.

"Ada," Aragorn swallowed hard, tears of pain rolling down his dirty face. "Thank you."

"No, Estel. Thank you. The Valar have gifted me with such a son that he would give his own life to save mine." Elrond weakly pushed himself up, clasping Aragorn's hands. "I love you, Aragorn."

"I love you, ada."

On the journey back, Elrond thought that it did not have to be blood to bind two together in a family, for no matter how much blood was spilt, Aragorn would always be his son.