Story Name: Echo of the Night: What
if?
Pen Name: ElenaRoan
Disclaimer: Don't own any of them,
written purely for enjoyment.
Rating: M
Warnings:
DEATHFIC!
Summary: What if Legolas and Aragorn didn't return
to their homes in time during Echo of the Night?
Betas: Geris
(Grammar and Spelling), Michelle (Comprehension)
Timeline: III
2991 (Aragorn 60 years old)
Chapter 2: Journey
The rangers had much that he had found to think upon and research by the time Aragorn returned a day later and finally set out towards home. While he was glad he had found what he had the urgency he felt to be home had increased and he left immediately upon his return, declining a meal in favour of setting out quickly.
For several days the journey was uneventful, though his feeling grew more dire with each passing moment. A day's journey away from Imladris it was so intense that he would have ridden through the night if it wasn't for a rain storm that drove him to shelter in a nearby cave. As the storm continued into the night Aragorn gave up any thought of continuing on to Imladris that night and settled down to wait for dawn.
As the storm died down around midnight nausea woke the sleeping ranger, sending him scrambling for the cave entrance to be violently ill. With no light save the slowly dying fire he missed noting the colour of what he was bringing up.
The light rain that was all that was left of the fierce storm was a welcome relief on his hot face once he was done heaving. Moving gingerly back to the still glowing fire he stoked it before putting some water on to boil. An anti-nausea tea would help him make it to Imladris the next day. Or at least he hoped.
One sip sent him spinning to the side, retching miserably until every last drop of tea had re-emerged and then some. Once it had passed Aragorn stared with dread at the vomit, noting for the first time the colour. As quickly as possible he started packing his gear up; he needed to be in Imladris immediately despite the weakness he felt from the attack.
A growl from the entrance stilled his movements and drew his gaze to the cave entrance. Eyes shone in the darkness though whether they were wolves or Wargs he wasn't sure. One thing he was sure of, though, as he pulled his sword from its sheath, was that he had none of the strength he needed to even wield the blade. He swallowed as he set himself to meet them, the trembling in his limbs obvious even to himself, and prayed that there was a long range elf patrol nearby.
Then the beasts attacked, the solid body of the wolf in the lead knocking the sword to the side as he tried to find the strength he did not have. The last thing he saw was the animal's mouth coming at his face.
---
Three elves sat up in their beds, a silent scream shared between all of them. A quick conference in the hallway and two identical elves headed out into the night hoping against hope that what they feared had not come true that night.