Chapter 6
Agarned Erui-Onnen
"Lean against me, lean against me Estel," Legolas instructed quickly, as the human nearly toppled forward.
They were in their 'room' again; Legolas had thrown the back of journals into his travel-pack, and only just managed to light their torch, casting a sudden orange glow on the dirt walls and ceiling.
"I've got you," he reassured, pulling the human's limp body closer. Aragorn was conscious, barely, but that only seemed to make the situation worse. His eyes were glazed with pain, and as he finally leaned his full weight on the elf behind him, he shuddered with feverish cold.
"I can't see very well, Legolas." His whisper was barely more than a breath.
"It's dark," Legolas soothed, his eyes flitting around the room for a strategy. "I- I can't see very well either."
"Liar," Aragorn smiled gently.
Legolas lowered the human into his lap, his eyes darting from his friend's blue gaze, to his bleeding wrist, and then back again, now more worried. "It's all ready soaked through the bandage," he said as easily as he could, ripping a second strip from his tunic and tying it tightly over top of the first, blood-stained one.
"Legolas," Aragorn spoke gently, his uninjured hand grasping the elf's busy one. "Ada told me that in an elf, major wounds heal quickly. That elven blood can heal the most dire injuries, but- I'm a human, mellon-nin, and there-" he picked his wrist gingerly up with his other hand. A red-and-green pool of Bengwiil-poisoned blood had all ready soaked through the second bandage Legolas had used.
"Mornaeg's smart, I guess, cause…see, there are several primary blood veins in the wrist, and if a human is cut there…" The human's fingers moved to his injured wrist, trying to inspect the wound himself, but being unable to do so in his state. His glassy eyes fixed vaguely on where Legolas' face probably was. "If humans get slit in the wrist, they can bleed to death. And- and Legolas, I'm all ready sick as it is, because of Bengwiil and because of fatigue, and I-"
Legolas had been shaking his head almost the whole time, and now he put his fingers over Aragorn's mouth. "No," he interrupted quickly. "No, Aragorn, I'm not giving up. You're not going to die."
Legolas was surprised to find his voice so calm. He knew that deep down, he was scared to death that his friend would die again. It seemed such an easy possibility these days. But some other voice in the back of his head was stronger. You're not going to lose him, Legolas. Not unless you give up again.
Maybe he was just sick of taking 'death' as an answer.
"Estel, do you still have that knife?" Aragorn nodded, and struggled to reach for his boot.
"No, no," Legolas said quickly, gently touching Aragorn's hand back to its place on his chest. "I'll get it."
"What are you thinking, Legolas?" Aragorn asked uneasily, as he felt the knife being slipped from his boot.
Legolas didn't reply at first, but sat, perfectly still, the knife in one hand, Aragorn's bleeding wrist in the other. He paused just a moment, then he seemed suddenly resolved, and took the knife to Aragorn's bandages, slicing both of them away. He couldn't help a shudder that snaked down his spine, at seeing the tattered skin surrounding the wound on Aragorn's wrist.
"Legolas, what are you doing?" Aragorn demanded quietly, his injured hand trembling as the cold air touched it.
Legolas tried to think how to reply. He hated keeping his all ready confused friend in the dark, but…well, Aragorn would never agree if he knew.
So without explanation, and only resolve driving him, Legolas pressed the knife to his right palm, hesitated, and then struck. It was a nice, clean cut, straight from between his pointer and middle finger, to the edge of his hand. A thin line of red.
"Legolas!" Aragorn cried, more out of surprise than fear. "What are-"
"Sh…" Legolas assured, ignoring his burning hand. "Just hold still, Estel, edren-nin."
/trust me/
Legolas pressed the bleeding line across his hand to the slit over Aragorn's wrist, fitting the two lines together perfectly. His fingers wrapped tightly around to the back of the human's hand, pulling his palm firmly against the slit wrist. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed his own wrist, pressing on the blue lines that represented his primary blood veins, and forcing extra blood from his split palm.
Even in his feverish state, Aragorn knew quite vividly what his friend was doing for him. Literally giving his blood for Aragorn's life. The human could not be scared for his friend, he knew that Legolas could lose gallons of blood and still survive. But he didn't know how to treat the immense gratitude he suddenly felt.
Whether it worked or not, Legolas was fully determined to save his life.
Slowly, the man began to feel elven blood running with an odd warmth down his own bloodstream. His arm shook violently as his system reacted to the alien substance, sending chemicals to investigate.
"Agarned erui-onnen…" Legolas whispered, his voice commanding. "Neste echil-sen."
/blood of the First-Born…' 'heal this human.'/
Long moments that could not be counted were spent this way. Legolas never once let go of Aragorn's wrist, and the human was made to settle with keeping still, and thanking his friend in heart only, afraid of breaking his concentration with speech.
After a long while, Aragorn could feel his fever cooling slightly, and his arm stopped vibrating as hard. He felt strangely relaxed, and let his head loll to the side on Legolas' knee. His breath came slower and slower…his right eye kept crossing towards his left, making everything blur comfortably, and his eyelids kept flickering up and down, as though weighted by something.
It was then that the human realized, dimly, that Legolas was whispering something else now…
"Si-post. Quel kaima, mellon-nin. You shall awake tomorrow."
/now rest. sleep well, my friend./
And as Aragorn's mind stepped quietly from awareness, he could vaguely recall Legolas saying afterwards, "I…I'd give more than just my blood for you, Estel. Know that."
Maybe Legolas said it, maybe it was Aragorn's mind all ready beginning to dream. But either way, Aragorn had known it a long time ago, and neither Legolas nor any dreams had to tell him.
And though the prince was the only one to see it, in his sleep, Aragorn's head rocked to the side, and a faint look of determination was illuminated by the torchlight. As if to say, So would I, Legolas. So would I…
- - - - -
tssick tssick tssick
It took maybe ten minutes for Aragorn to realize his eyes were open. He could be staring at a dirt wall or the ceiling for all he knew, in this dark room with no differentiation between shadow and shape. He lifted his hand to brush the hair from his eyes…but his arm wouldn't move.
Aragorn bit back his sudden panic at feeling whole arm weighted down by something. Chains? was the first urgent demand in his head. No, not chains. It wasn't metal. It was soft, warm…
All this went through Aragorn's head in a second, and then, the next second, all of it went away. Legolas' hand. The human reached to where his friend was still clinging dearly, even in sleep, to his wrist, and gently unwrapped the fingers.
Legolas' palm had healed nicely, leaving only a faint streak of white, where the scar hadn't gone quite yet. Aragorn then inspected his own hand. In the dark, he smiled. He could see a raised line of red and pink, as tough he'd been scratched once by thorns, but besides that…healed.
"Hannon le," he whispered, more sigh than words, as he gently closed Legolas' fingers over the prince's healing palm. Although, even 'thank you' in elvish didn't seem to express adequately what he really felt.
tssick tssick tssick
Aragorn turned towards the noise. Had he all ready heard it once? It sounded like fingernails scraping rock. Slowly, he crawled to the source of the sound…where was it? The ceiling? The floor? No. The wall!
No sooner had Aragorn realized this, than a section of rock, dirt and roots exploded from the wall. The human dove away from it, shielding his head with his arms, and froze for a second.
"Estel? Oh yes! I found you! Good, good, climb in, quick!"
Aragorn turned. "Anorc!" he cried, surprised and relieved. "How-"
The dwarf shook his head madly. "No, no, no time for that! Get in!"
"Estel, what's going-" Legolas crawled out of the dark to kneel beside Aragorn. "Who's your friend?" he asked quizzically, his keen eyes flicking up and down the dirty figure of Anorc.
"The one I was going to meet, Legolas," Aragorn explained. "Anorc, meet my good elven friend, Legolas-"
"Greenleaf!" Anorc finished, and tried to shove himself out of the hole, like-as-not to give the prince a hug. The bulky dwarf could not, however, scramble through his new hole, so he settled for a heart-felt handshake, which Legolas returned gratefully.
"But there really is no time for formalities!" Anorc continued, ducking into his hole. Aragorn and Legolas watched intently, as more gravel and dirt came showering into the room, while Anorc made the hole a little wider. "The evil elf has sent orcs this way," his deep voice continued from the hole. "They'll be here any second, not a moment to lose!"
His head appeared in the opening again after a moment. "Coming?"
Aragorn glanced at Legolas, who nodded quickly. "Coming, Anorc, and- thank you," Legolas said before he could stop himself. Somehow, it didn't matter if he was thanking a dwarf for something. He was going to get away! Away from this dungeon. He didn't know where that hole was supposed to lead, but any opportunity to do other than sit still and wish for freedom was welcome!
At that moment, the sound of the great rock being dragged from their prison's entrance filled the friends' ears. Legolas whirled around, but Aragorn dove for the hole. "Come on!" The human cried, grabbing the elf's travel-pack, as Anorc backed into the dark of his hole, making way for Aragorn to squeeze inside.
Legolas watched as his friend hesitated for a second at the opening, and then dove in, head first, his boots disappearing in the next instant. The elf ducked his head into the hole, and realized that it was, in fact, a hollowed-out tunnel. It was much bigger than the opening; big enough to sit in, maybe, with one's neck pressed against the ceiling.
Legolas bit his lip, tried to forget that it was a closed-in space, and dove in after the sound of his friend. Slowly, he pulled himself along the floor, feeling his feet slipping into the darkness after him.
The prince shouted in surprise before he realized why. Someone had grabbed his feet! The orcs were tugging him out of the hole; he could all ready hear them snarling behind them. His fingernails dug into the loose dirt, trying to anchor himself. "Estel!"
Aragorn managed to maneuver in a tight circle, when he heard the orcs coming, and now he crawled as best he could back down the tunnel. In the dark, he could feel Legolas' palely glowing hands. "Hold on!" he cried, tugging the elf the other direction.
The orcs, however, were all ready winning. Just as Aragorn managed to anchored his heals against the ground, they gave Legolas' an extra hard tug, jerking the human closer to the opening. "I'm all ready half out," Legolas told him, trying to bite back his panic. "Aragorn, go, you can still escape!"
"No, no not without you," Aragorn interrupted quickly, for he'd all ready guessed Legolas was going to say that.
"Estel, come on!" Anorc cried from further down the tunnel. "You have to get out, I promised you would!"
The human's mind spun for several seconds, and then- he let go of the prince's hands, taking off down the tunnel again as fast as he could.
The minute he let go, Legolas went sailing out of the hole, knocking several orcs over when he landed. He attempted to stand up, grabbing the roots hanging from the ceiling for support, but one of the larger orcs, pride wounded by being knocked over, landed a blow over the prince's upper back, felling him again.
Legolas lay dazed for a few blank moments, and only dully noticed one of the orcs flipping him over and tying his hands in front of him again. By the time his head stopped spinning, he was being stood up and shoved to the entrance of the cave.
They broke through to daylight, and Legolas' pupils instantly started dilating, causing his vision to blur yet again. But the prince wasn't thinking about his aching head or his swirling vision.
He didn't say goodbye. It was silly; So very silly to be moping on this matter. So what if Aragorn didn't say goodbye? Legolas had told him to leave quickly, and so he had! But it just- wasn't like Aragorn to just disappear without saying something…
Maybe Legolas was just scared because he knew with Aragorn gone, Mornaeg would likely kill him. He'd probably never see his friend again…and he would have liked to say goodbye, that's all.
"Mellyn-nin!" Legolas' head jerked up towards the balcony before them, upon hearing Mornaeg's voice, his heart giving a leap of terror unexpected. But the elf was not standing there. The orcs seemed to be as confused as he, for their eyes were flicking like mad around the clearing, searching the elf out.
"Adar?" one called gruffly.
"Leithia Legolas, gwaur-del, tairi ansen daer a egol-eryn!"
The orcs stared in blank wonder around, still in search of the elf, and now twice as confused by the curious statement. Legolas was every bit as confused as the orcs, but for a totally different reason…
But despite the confusion, no one seemed to have made up their minds to say something yet, since it HAD been a gift from Mornaeg to teach the orcs Elvish in the first place- something to dangle over the firstborn, despite the fact that none of them cared for a it a jot. It amazed Legolas how terrified these cold-hearted beings were of an elf of all things. Proof that Mornaeg could have that affect on anyone.
Finally one orc plucked up the courage to asked the question they all wanted to. "And- what does that mean, Adar?"
A theatrical sigh echoed from somewhere to the left and up a bit. Perhaps from one of the lower balconies, but still beyond sight. "It MEANS, my friends, 'you have taken Legolas everywhere today, and it is time you rest and have a drink'."
Legolas' eyebrows shot up several centimeters. No, that wasn't what that meant at ALL. What the elf had just said was, 'Release Legolas, dirtily disgusting, discredit to this great and elven wood!'. Mystified though he was, Legolas made no reply…that wasn't Mornaeg.
Mornaeg didn't call him 'Legolas'.
The orcs hesitated, and the one who had spoken squinted suspiciously up into the trees. "A rest, Adar?" he sneered. "Drinks? You're not putting us all in with all the slacker-offs…"
"Nograd, I think like an elf would, you could use a break as well, mellon-nin. If that is all right with you that is. If not, I'm quite happy to send you off to work." The tone had become cold, and was losing all sympathetic traces.
The orc just behind Nograd leapt forward. "Certainly not, Adar! We'll go and rest just now, and- and have drinks." That last part seemed to be what had propelled him with such force to the front of the line.
"Hang on, what about the elf?" Nograd demanded, digging a sharp claw into Leoglas' forearm, causing a small pool of blood to form under the elf's tunic. Legolas inhaled sharply, trying to pull away.
"I all ready have an orc to take him."
"One orc, Adar?" Nograd scoffed, "the elf isn't-"
"Nograd, do you want to argue with me, or do you want to get a drink with your fellows? I will not tell you twice! Mellon-nin, take the elf."
The orcs looked around to find a very stiff, very stocky, and very short being decked out in armor standing just to the right of them. "Stand aside, back up, let me have him."
"Who are you?" Nograd demanded sharply.
"Anorc," the other replied smartly, sounding as though he were smirking, though one couldn't tell under his helmet.
Legola's knees nearly buckled with relief, but he managed to look afraid for the other orcs' benefit.
"An orc, eh?" Nograd's eyes shot to the balcony again, still squinting.
"Am I going to have to talk you into it, Nograd, or would you like to added to that pen of 'slacker-offs'?"
Reluctantly, Nograd let go of Legolas' bleeding forearm, and stepped back to let Anorc through. "How do you expect to take on an elf, short one?" he demanded.
Anorc didn't reply, but pulled from his pocket a thin wire, and grabbing Legolas' hands (which were about even with his shoulders) wrapped the wire around one of his wrists, twisting it quickly, and holding one end in each hand. "Don't move," he told Legolas loudly, sporting a very convincing malicious undertone.
"What's that supposed to do?" Nograd demanded just as loudly, whilst the other orcs decided to leave well enough alone, and took off to find their drinks.
"I pull these two wires," Anorc replied in a holier-than-thou tone, "and they slice cleanly through his wrist; and this elf is one hand poorer."
There was a pause of surprise, and then Norgrad just shrugged, unable to hide his delight at the thought, and trudged off towards where his comrades were headed, deciding drinks were more interesting than guard duty anyway.
"Bring him to my room, mellon-nin," the voice told Anorc, and the dwarf complied easily, heading towards the woods.
The two walked in silence into the deep of Mirkwood for perhaps ten minutes, when finally Anorc came to a stop, and looking warily around, began to untie Legolas' hands. "Where's Estel?" Legolas asked as he worked.
"Behind you."
Legolas spun, nearly knocking Anorc over. "Estel," he breathed, and almost on cue, Anorc rook his ropes away.
Smiling, Aragorn pulled the elf into a tight embrace, which Legolas returned willingly. "You didn't really think I'd leave you, did you?"
Legolas laughed quietly into the human's hair. Anything seemed funny, right about now. "I told you to."
"Doing everything you tell me to?" Aragorn held him back out of the hug. "That's not like me, now is it. And neither is leaving without saying goodbye."
Legolas sobered a bit. "I know that," he said quietly. How did Aragorn always know…?
"Good," was all the human responded, squeezing the elf's shoulder, and letting go entirely. "Where are we to, Anorc?"
Anorc pointed a stubby finger vaguely at the forest around them. "That way."
"Where are we going?"
"I told you, that way!" Anorc insisted, pointing somewhere a bit more to the left than before.
Legolas gave Aragorn a raised-eyebrows look that made the human grin. "Right, so- shall we be off?"
The dwarf nodded, and took off at a trot into the woods, the other two just beside him in moments. "What plans you devise, mellon-nin!" Legolas exclaimed as they went. "And how did you imitate Mornaeg's voice so very well? The orcs believed it- I believed it."
"Since his attack on me in Mirkwood, his voice has been the better part of my darkest dreams, my friend," Aragorn replied quietly, meeting the other's eyes evenly.
Legolas pushed a branch out of his way, letting it snap backwards, just narrowly swinging over Anorc's head. "How did you put that together so quickly?"
"I was thinking all the way down the tunnel," the human shrugged. "It just occurred to me that impersonating Mornaeg was about the only way to dissuade the orcs. Anorc's used orc armor on several occasions for disguises. He'd brought it with him, planning to lead me out of the woods in it, making us less suspicious. I told him-"
"Beat me over the head with a rock is what you did," the dwarf grumbled from somewhere closer to the ground.
Aragorn smirked. "I threatened him a little, and then I told him what to do. I climbed a tree…" he shrugged again, trailing off into silence.
Legolas had one more question, and by the look on his face, it was a simple curiosity question. More amusing than important. "Estel, how- how did you know that the orc's name was Nograd?"
Aragorn shook his head in wonder. "I don't think it was."
- - - - -
"Es…ke up…l!"
Aragorn blinked hard against the blinding light streaming from the sky. So many lights! Couldn't someone blow a few out? His head throbbed, and his eyes tried desperately to focus through the blinding whiteness. "Legolas…? Le…e…" he coughed hard, his head rocking to the side, and his ears ringing.
"Est…ea…ook at me!"
Was someone trying to talk to him? But he couldn't tell what they were saying, how was he supposed to respond? "Where are you?" he got out through a dry mouth.
"Look at me, Estel, look at me!" that cry was familiar.
Aragorn's eyes darted over the flashing sky, searching for a face. Stop looking up! something in his head kept screaming. Look down. Look down! His gaze flicked further down, just above his heaving chest. There he was! "Legolas," he gasped, his mind reaching out to grasp something of memory.
"Estel, look a- are you all right? Can you see?"
Aragorn licked his lips lamely, and tried to think of what to say. "N-not really, I- the lights are too bright…"
The elf's eyes disappeared from view as they lifted to the sky instead, where Aragorn's gaze had been. "It's the stars, Aragorn," he told him gently.
"Oh." The human blinked hard, and for the first time could feel gentle fingers on either side of his head, probing his temples, attempting to still his swirling head. Legolas held tight to his friend's head, trying to keep the human's gaze on his face.
"Legolas, what- did I fall?" Aragorn asked desperately. He recalled walking through the woods with Legolas and Anorc in silence, but had no memory of getting from there to here on the ground.
"You said you were freezing," Legolas told him, "I asked where your coat was, and you said you were burning up. Yes, then you fell down."
Aragorn blinked hard again. No, he still didn't remember that, but it sounded about right considering how he'd been feeling lately. "C-can you help me up?"
Legolas bit his lip hesitantly. "I don't know if you should be-"
"I have to get out from under the stars, please."
"Okay," Legolas said quickly, "okay." He grabbed the human up in his arms as best he could, and managed to slide him under a great spreading tree. The shadows covered Aragorn from most of the stars, which relieved the human greatly.
"Where's Anorc?" the human breathed, his chest beginning to heave with cold. It was damp and chilly under the tree…he was beginning to feel his fever strongly again.
"I have no idea. He ran off a few minutes ago, after you fell."
Aragorn sighed. "There goes our guide. D- do you think h-he…"
"Abandoned us?" Legolas finished gently, pulling the human's trembling body closer. "I don't know."
"I'm…I'm hot," the human gasped quietly, "I- I'm-"
"You're all right, it's just a fever."
"N-no, no I'm not…" he began trying to push Legolas' hands away. "I'm so- I'm on fire, I need- let me go!" he cried, shoving at the elf frantically, his voice rising in pitch.
"Estel, Estel, calm down."
"I'm burning."
"You're all right."
"I need Adda!"
"Sh…" Legolas soothed carefully, trying to calm the thrashing body. "Aragorn, remember we have to stay quiet, okay? We don't want Mornaeg to find us, if he's still looking."
Aragorn shook his head wildly. "No, no, he'll never find us, I need- we need to get Adda, Legolas, we have to!"
"Shh…Estel, you have to-"
"Let go! I'm burning- I'm on fire, the fire!" He thrashed about, as though trying to dash flames, but Legolas held his body tightly, stoically begging him to be still.
"Mornaeg might find us."
"No he won't! He…he won't…He'd never come all the way to Rivendell," Aragorn whispered, his body calming a bit.
Legolas didn't reply, his heart freezing with the night air.
"He'd never come to Rivendell, would he El? He's got more sense than that…" the human's body started to tremble. "It's so cold…c-can you get me Mother's blanket? The one she left with me when I was a baby…it still smells like her…like Eucalyptus…Legolas' mother smells like Eucalyptus, does Adda? It-it…he's dying, you know…he's dying, Legolas."
"Who?" Legolas asked blankly, not even half-expecting an intelligent answer.
"Edren…someone killed Edren, and he- and you'll miss him forever. You'll forget me, though, when I'm dead…"
Legolas made no reply of emotion, made no protest to the untrue words. Aragorn's ears would have no use for comfort just now. Instead, he shook his head in silence, and started pulling the human to his feet. "Come on, Estel, we need to keep going."
"I'm sorry I'm not Edren. I wish I was Edren, Legolas…I wish-"
"Come on, mellon-nin." Legolas wrapped an arm under Aragorn's shoulders, lifting him partway off the ground. "There you go, easy does it…"
"I can't do it, Legolas I can't-"
"You can, come on, you can do it." Legolas' voice strained as he hauled the human to his feet. "You can," he kept saying, speaking to the both of them.
Aragorn's feet slid numbly underneath him, supporting his weight only a little. "Legolas, where will we go?"
"I don't care. Somewhere. Forward, I guess." Valar help me…
The two stumbled through the dark, Legolas calling in vain for Anorc once or twice, as silently as possible. Aragorn still attempted to keep his head clear, or at least keep from saying something nonsensical. The back of his mind managed to convince him that it wouldn't be good for Legolas to be spouting off feverish drivel.
It was steadily getting darker, and Legolas' body was worn out trying to support his human friend. Surely there was a landmark for Gabil Gundu somewhere here? Shouldn't he recall something about the surroundings from their last visit?
"Hang on, my friend," he whispered automatically as Aragorn slipped into groans of nonsense again. "Hold on, we're almost there. We're almo-wha-!"
whap! thud thud thud CRACK thudududud SNAP "Legolas! " thud…thud…thud…thud…WHAM!
"Legolas! "Silence. Echoing off itself.
Legolas' eyes slid open, and he was looking into tree branches silhouetted against the sky. He remembered staggering under Aragorn's weight, and his tired body had moved to the side. He could still feel his foot as it slipped over the edge of the hill…but everything else was a blur. Tumbling, flipping, rolling, crashing through the underbrush, through twigs and leaves, and…and a tree. He'd tried to catch himself on a tree with his foot, but his ankle had caught in a niche under one of its roots instead. He'd kept on falling…
The elf attempted to sit up, and felt white pain shoot from his foot to his hip, causing him to cry out. He'd kept on falling, after catching his foot under the root, and the weight of his own body had broken something. Even now, he began recall the loud SNAP as a bone in his right leg, somewhere, had cracked.
Biting back at the pain, Legolas pushed himself to hands and one knee. "Estel?" he called, his eyes scanning the hill frantically for the human. He couldn't remember at which point he'd let go of his friend, but he knew that it was probably shortly after slipping. "He could be anywhere," he whispered aloud to himself, mostly out of frustration. "Estel?"
"L- Le…"
The prince whirled, his eyes flicking to further up the hill instead. "Aragorn!" Freezing agony ran in waves up Legolas' leg as he forced himself up the hill towards the human's voice. "Aragorn," he breathed again, his heart racing with fear, when he was close enough to see his friend. The human was caught in a veritable mass of brambles and thorns. His muddy hands clung shakily to a rock- the only thing keeping his descent from taking him through the rest of the spiky weeds.
"Hold on, just keep holding," Legolas told him quietly, his left hand snapping over his shoulder for one of his twin knives, and starting to hack away at the thorns. It didn't take long to make his way through the bottommost weeds, but upon reaching Aragorn at last, he found the human's predicament much more complicated than he'd originally thought.
Aragorn's clothes were snagged from all directions, and his skin all ready scarred by thousands of small, red scores. The worst of it, however, was the inch-thick vine of thorns wrapped around the man's neck. Its roots were further up the hill, which meant Aragorn's own weight was tugging it further into his flesh. Legolas pulled himself up the hill, until he was hovering just beneath the human's trembling body. "Hold still, as still as you can."
"Hel- help me…" Aragorn whispered distantly, as though he wasn't even sure to whom he was speaking. And maybe he wasn't.
"I will, I will." Legolas twisted his knife as close to the thorns surrounding his friend's neck as he dared.
Aragorn thrashed to the side, trying to grip the rock harder. "I'm falling, I'm going to fall…" he muttered feverishly.
"Don't move," Legolas pleaded gently, pressing the knife against the soft skin at the back of Aragorn's neck, attempting to get the point between skin and thorns.
He was about to look up towards the one who'd shot the arrow, when his father cried out, thrashing beneath his weight. Legolas looked back down to find his knife tipped in blood, and a slit running the length of Thranduil's left collarbone. His own fingers were already tinged in blood.
Legolas' weapon jerked back, away from Aragorn's neck. "I can't do it, Aragorn, I might hurt you with you moving around like this." He licked his lips, and looked up the hill. His leg throbbed horribly, but what had to be done had to.
Clenching his jaw, Legolas began to climb again, grabbing weeds that looked like they would hold, and a few that did not, just because there was nothing else to grab. At last, he was just above the rock Aragorn clung so dearly to, and he started to trace the vine leading from the human's neck with his eyes. There! Fingering for the thorns in the dark, he finally found it, and clipped it swiftly in two.
The pressure around Aragorn's neck released, and he relaxed just slightly. Leaning down as far as he could, his arms and legs both straining with the effort, Legolas managed to disentangle the vine from around his friend's neck, which luckily left only a chain of red marks in the skin, and none of its thorns. "Now Aragorn, I'm going t-"
It must have been the strain of leaning down so far from further up the hill, but with a sickening SNAP whatever it was that had fractured in his leg earlier, gave out the rest of the way. Legolas shouted, and his hand shot to his knee, where it seemed most of the pain was. "Aragorn…" he whispered, the agony blinding him with surprising abruptness. "My friend, can you slide down the-" he paused to gasp, attempting to calm his voice. "Hill?"
The human shook his head vaguely, knuckles turning white with clinging so hard to his anchor.
"Estel- I think I'm going to fall," the elf told him in a tense voice, held almost suspended above Aragorn's position, and kept from falling only by one hand, as the other one clutched at his throbbing knee. "If I slip, I'll land on you, and I don't want to," he bit out.
Aragorn continued to shake his head. "Adda's coming…I've got to wait for him, because he won't let me fall. He never does."
"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted frantically, feeling his body sliding down over the slippery leaves just a bit further. Closer to Aragorn's precious rock. "You've got t-"
"I didn't mean to climb this high!" the human shouted back, offended. "I just- they all tease me, sometimes, because I'm not like them…because I'm not as quick as they are. I had to prove- to- to show them that I'm just as good. I can climb trees too…I can. I just got too high, Legolas, that's all."
"Estel…" Legolas pleaded between gritted teeth, attempting to alter his course to Aragorn's left a bit, should he fall. "Look, I cut the brambles out from under you, all you have to do is let go, and let yourself slide down."
"No, no." Aragorn insisted, trying to wrap his arms around the rock. "Adda will come. He'll come."
Well, there was nothing for it. He'd have to ignore the pain and press on. Legolas reached behind him for something else to grab, to pull him away from Aragorn's position, his knee screaming at him all the while. He wrapped his fingers around what felt like a small, skinny tree.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a tree; it was a thin, reed-like weed. One that had no grab in the soil it was standing in. The minute he pulled on it, it gave way, sending a clod of dirt flying, and throwing Legolas' balance completely off. He fell.
Yet again, when Legolas opened his eyes, and saw the sky, he didn't remember the fall very clearly, but he was much more awake this time, and fully aware of the firmly throbbing ache in his knee.
"Aragorn?" Adrenaline shot through his system at saying the name, and the world of worry it brought with its sound. All ready the most horrible ideas were flashing through Legolas' head. How hard had he hit the man? Was he all right? Was he conscious?
He could only remember tumbling forward, and seeing Aragorn's shaking figure rushing towards him. His stomach had made impact with the human's side, he was pretty sure, but that wasn't what he remembered the clearest. His injured knee had hit the rock dead-on, sending an earthquake of sickening pain up his body, to his very temples. Aragorn had given a cry of fear and pain, when the knee hit his hands, still clinging so dearly to the rock, and he'd let go.
But where was he? Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position, rolling over to crawl. "Valar!" he screamed, falling onto his back, and grabbing for his knee again. "Estel? Estel, are you all right?" he gritted between clenched teeth. There was still no reply.
"Aragorn, I think my knee is broken," he called, surprisingly calm. "Can you make your way to me, my friend? Can you answer me?" cruel, ringing silence. "Aragorn!" What if he wasn't all right? What if he was unconscious, or taken by his Bengwiil-induced fever, and could not resurface? He needed help, he needed healing! "Aragorn, if you can hear me, answer me." Nothing. "Dambeth-nin!"
/answer me/
There was still no response, and Legolas wasn't about to lie alone, in the dark, until Mornaeg and his orcs came and dragged them both back to Mandossea. Clenching his jaw so tightly that it made his temples throb, he rolled over onto his stomach, and pressed his hands against the ground. He'd drag himself to Araogrn if he had to! Pulling his knees up under him, he pressed them against the dirt, in a crawling position.
White pain rushed up his leg, and his whole side shivered with nerve-reaction to the broken bone. Legolas cried out softly, hissing the breath back in through his teeth, and attempted to take a crawling step forward. Again, his nerves started firing warnings at him, causing his whole right side to shake with pain and exhaustion.
Now, Legolas' jaw was so tight, he thought his back teeth would crack. He pulled himself another inch forward, with just his hands, and then brought both knees up again. He hadn't been able to see, in the panic and the dark, the large, sharp stone jutting out of the ground just beneath him.
The jagged side caught him on his wounded knee, as he tried to pull it into a crawling position again. It felt as though someone had driven a stick of metal straight through the prince's knee, and he shouted in agony, toppling over, his hands groping for the source of the pain, as though his own fingers could heal it.
"Faelas, Ilú vatar, makoi nin!" he shouted, the first words that came into his head. Gripping his knee with both hands, he lay on his back in the dark, staring once more at the starry sky. "Estel?" he called, almost groaning, after a moment of quiet. "Estel, please, can you hear me? Aragorn, can you hear me! ARAGORN!"
Frustration boiled its way to the surface, and Legolas' mind and body were tired of working. He felt fatigued all over, and yet the desperate situation he was in was driving uncalled-for waves of adrenaline up and down his system. But what could he do? Nothing! He was helpless.
Aragorn could be dead, for all he knew.
And that last thought, too much for the elf to bear, sent his mind sprawling into thousands of horrific ideas and dark pictures of the possibilities. Every conceivable thing that could happen to him and his friend now, flashed across his mental vision, until he was too tired to consider them, and too weak to care.
He attempted to crawl several more times, pulling himself on his elbows in who-knew-which direction. At last, his hand closed around something strangely comforting. He had no idea what it was, but it was safe. It was reassuring and familiar…whatever it was, it was all he seemed to have left anymore.
And without his consent, his eyes shut, and his body went lax.
- - - - -
"Aragorn…Aragorn!"
Legolas. Legolas was calling him again. Aragorn's body shifted barely over the dead leaves. Adda hadn't come. Why hadn't he come! He'd let Aragorn fall from the tree, and now he didn't know where he was anymore…and where was Legolas? He'd landed on him, right? No. No, Legolas wasn't- why didn't-
Tree? What tree was he thinking of, he'd been clinging to a rock! Yes, and Legolas tried to- he was…Aragorn couldn't think. He couldn't remember anything clearly, he only knew that he and Legolas were lost, and- and Anorc had run off without them. They would never make it now…what if Mornaeg-
"Faelas, Ilú vatar, makoi nin!"
Legolas! Mornaeg was torturing Legolas again, he was- he was going to kill him! Aragorn had to do something…I'll get Anorc to dress up as an orc, and take Legolas away. Anorc? An orc? How strange…Legolas- Legolas! I'll pretend to be Mornaeg! Yes, that was it. It could really work, he knew it could! He'd save Legolas' life…he'd-
Aragorn opened his eyes, and was immediately blinded by the lights shining above him once more, only barely tinted by the trees' shadows.
"Aragorn, can you hear me! ARAGORN!"
"Legolas…" Aragorn tried to whisper, but his throat was dry, coated in dirt from his fall. And anyway, the elf's voice sounded so far away, he'd probably never find him. They were lost. And now Mornaeg would find them, and he'd torture Legolas, and kill Aragorn, and…
A wolf moaned in the distance, and something ran across a tree branch, snapping a dead stick on its way.
"Legolas…" he tried a second time, his eyes darting around in the gray light.
The fallen stick hit the leaves with a whispered cisss, making it sound as though someone was walking there, and had stopped. Mornaeg?
The human's body began to panic, but every time he moved, it seemed to make a great, crackling sound, as the dead leaves broke beneath him. He couldn't move. Mornaeg would hear him if he moved. But- he couldn't stay here!
"Legolas," he whispered again. "Legolas where are-"
The wind rustled the grasses and trees gently, sending dead leaves crawling over top of each other in a steady wave. The sound terrified Aragorn, for now, there was no knowing where Mornaeg was standing. Another rustle from the left…a twig from the right.
Aragorn felt his head being jerked up, and he was looking in to dark, green eyes.
"Legolas!" Aragorn called, much louder this time, trying to sit up, but his body shook at the effort, and seemed to hold him against the ground. "Legolas help me!"
"Try not to scream too loudly." He jeered softly, pressing annoyingly close to Aragorn's face. "It wouldn't do to have your friend up here too soon."
His hands groped in the dark for a weapon, though of course there wasn't one- well, he reached with his right hand, anyway. His left, however, seemed to be weighted down, and wouldn't move. Something was holding it to the ground, not letting it get away.
snap Another stick! Rustling- did he hear voices? Yes. He was sure he did! It was Mornaeg. It was Mornaeg! "Someone- anyone?" he cried, blinding memories flashing through his head.
"Stay quiet, now. He screamed over this one the most." All of a sudden, he knew why the elf was attempting to suffocate him. He cried out with the last of his breath as the evil dagger plunged once more, this time into his leg, just behind his knee. The weapon struck his kneecap, and the blow sent an earthquake of pain up Aragorn's leg.
"Illú vatar!" Aragorn screamed, gripping his knee, where the healing wound was, as though the dagger were still there. Still, his other hand wouldn't move. Maybe Mornaeg was holding it- Mornaeg was going to kill him- where was Legolas!
Even now, the human could feel someone reaching down, picking him up, carrying him away! Back to Mandossea, he couldn't go. He couldn't! He began to struggle in the icy hands that reached for him. "No, no you can't- you can't take me back, I-I won't let you! No- n-" he pushed away at the being reaching for him. "Leave me alone! Us nin er, please, I beg you, please leave me leave me alone leave-"
"Estel, Estel, shhh, it's all right, Estel, it's all right…ie'seere, ion-nin."
Aragorn's eyes fluttered open, his body still tense and gasping, his hands gripping with all their might to the robes of the one who was holding him. But it wasn't Mornaeg.
"Adda?"
And at the relieved smile on the elf's lips, Aragorn buried his face in the smell of Rivendell emanating from the velvet robes pressed against him, and began to cry softly as protective arms wrapped their embrace even tighter around him.