Chapter 11
In the Black Light
Aragorn was making his way steadily back to his room. I have to rest. I promised Ada I would. About halfway down the long hallway, however, he noticed that one of the walls appeared to be corroding. Curiously, he approached it, and found that it wasn't a corrosion, but a cutaway room. It was roughly done, but upon leaning into its doorway, Aragorn discovered it was a makeshift closet.
He went to close the wood plank door, when an arm swung around his neck, and yanked him inside the closet. Aragorn's arm flailed over his head, trying to find the enemy's face, but a second person closed the door with a loud BAM and all went dark, disorienting him.
He could hear his own breath panting in his ears, as he struggled silently with the stranger. His head began to spin from lack of oxygen, and he was wishing he hadn't left his bed.
At last, the struggle seemed to go suddenly out of him, and he relaxed reluctantly in the attacker's arms.
"Give up?"
Aragorn felt a chill go down his spine at the all-too-familiar voice, but ignored the question by asking another one. "What do you want, Mornaeg?"
"Rumor has it there is a cure for Bengwiil, human. I want it."
"Why, you're afraid that we'll cure all your sick employees, and you'll be out of business with that poison-farm you have in the forest?" Aragorn bit out spitefully. Somehow, it was easy to act unafraid when he was being irritable.
"Something like that. So where is it?"
"I forget."
The arm tightened around his neck, and he could hear angry breath rasping in his ear. "Where. Is it, human?"
"Why- don't you ask Legolas?" Aragorn chocked out. Mornaeg didn't know Legolas had left.
"I did."
"No you didn't,"
"Yes I did, and he wasn't very helpful either."
Aragorn's heart went cold.
"Well, it wasn't hard. We waylaid him outside the tunnel, and your wonderful Lord of a father didn't even notice. The questioning lasted about an hour…how long has he been gone?"
He stoically didn't reply.
"Hmn, well maybe it was two hours. I can't be sure. He was screaming so loud, I lost track of the-"
Aragorn twisted to the side, his hands flying to the place where he was pretty sure Mornaeg's neck was. It was then that the second person with him stepped in. He felt claw-like fingernails dig into his shoulders, and he cried out as the person behind him hauled him around in circle, and slammed him against the wall.
The nails let go suddenly, tearing the back of his shoulder and Aragorn cried out again, warm blood trickling down his back. He spun to hopefully beam the stranger over the head, but he was suddenly not there.
Thrown off balance yet again, Aragorn thrust his arms out in front of him, to catch his inevitable fall. He didn't fall, however, but was caught in the arms of Mornaeg again. Instantly he began to struggle, but Mornaeg forced him to the floor, pulling his left arm behind his back, and kneeling on its palm. Aragorn tried to pull his right arm free, but Mornaeg caught that fist as well, swinging it around his back, and pulling it to an awkward angle.
"I'm not simple, Mornaeg. Lord Elrond would notice if Legolas was taken," he spat, his voice strained from the knee in his back.
"Oh, yes, precious Adda doesn't make any mistakes."
"Not those kind of mistakes."
"I don't have time to dispute this with you, human, believe what you want to believe, but Lindo is in the midst of Mirkwood, shackled to a maple tree, where we can have regular visits and talk about our dear friend Edren, and my late brother."
Though determined to disbelieve him, Aragorn's thoughts recoiled at the mental picture. He opened his mouth to respond, though he didn't know with what words, but Mornaeg went on.
"Where is it, mortal? Where is the cure?"
"I don't remember," Aragorn said again, but now in truth, rather than spite.
"Mellon-nin," he heard the second figure step towards him, then kneel beside his head.
The cold sting of a steel point pressed lightly against his neck, and he had to resist the urge not to flinch.
"This is a devise with which you ought to be familiar. A Salab dart. The difference is, there is no Salab in this dart, but Bengwiil."
Aragorn's breath quickened, though he couldn't force a response.
"Yeees, you know what that is. You know aaall about it," Mornaeg purred. "Now. Where is the cure?"
Harain can heal you, Aragorn, he has the cure. He'll fix you.
…but I can't bear to feel that poison in me again…not without Legolas. Not without Adda.
"Which door do I take? You've been down there, because Lindo would not have left, if you were not well."
"I…don't remember," Aragorn pleaded, realizing as he searched his thoughts, that he really didn't.
"Ah, I see."
The steel began to sink into his skin.
"Wait! Mornaeg, wait."
It paused.
"I…I don't remember, but maybe I could lead you there?" That'd be time enough to get help, surely…
"And give you an opportunity to escape me? No. Tell me, human. I know it's in there somewhere, give me some hints."
Don't give him hints. NO hints at all, is that understood? "I…don't remember."
The dart sank into his neck suddenly, making him flinch, and then cry out as he felt the green liquid entering his system at a surprising rate.
"I don't- I don't remember!"
"I'm sure you do," Mornaeg whispered, as the dart withdrew from Argorn's neck, empty. "Just think, all right? Were there stairs?"
"I don't remember."
"Oh. You think this is over? There's more where this came from, don't worry. Mellon?"
The second stranger rose from his knees, paused a moment, and then sank back down beside Aragorn. The thud and concurrent clink of steel echoed dully through the closet, as a bag of what Aragorn could only assume were more darts dropped to the floor.
A second steel point was soon against his neck, and his breath hitched into his chest in fear. "Please, I don't remember…I don't-"
"Were there stairs?"
"I don't know."
It broke the skin.
Harain can heal you, Aragorn, he'll heal you. He has the cure.
Mornaeg seemed to be reading his thoughts. "You think your elven healer will fix you, mortal? I'll tear these halls to pieces with my orcs and find the cure. I'll destroy it. And who will save you then? There will be no relief for your poisoned body this time, human, so tell me what I want to know. Were there stairs?"
"If you're so willing to tear the halls down looking for it, you don't need my help!"
"I prefer it this way."
The dart pressed further into his flesh, and his chest shuddered at the sensation of steel.
"Yes! Yes, there were stairs, there were." There are lots of stairs down here. That's not helpful at all.
"Good, human, good. Now. Did they go up or down?"
Don't answer, don't answer…
"Up or down, human?"
"I don't know."
The sickening feeling of Bengwiil sweeping over his system attacked him again, and he bit back the temptation to cry out. As second dart was almost instantly where the old one's tip had been.
"We can keep this up all night, if you'd like," Mornaeg told him lazily, leaning close to his ear. "Come on, little Estel. You know you long to be free of your terror. Tell me about the cure?"
"No way."
"Even if it kills you?"
"Even if."
"Well, some things are worse than death, you know. Very well, have it your way. We'll just keep working here until you feel like telling us something, okay?"
The dart sank it, emptied, withdrew, and was replaced. Aragorn counted seven darts before he began to lose count. His body started to shudder uncontrollably, rejecting the poison.
Harain will heal you, they'll never find the cure. They'll never find it.
Even so, his pulse began to pound in his head in fear, as more and more Bengwiil entered his all ready strained system.
At last, Mornaeg said causally, "Well, you've done well, little one, you made it through the whole sack. Oh, don't worry, we have more. Brought two extra sacks, just for the occasion. You probably have, I don't know, forty more darts to go through? Fifty? Even if your healer friends do find you, you'll be dead, I guarantee it."
He's exaggerating, he's making it up…he's just lying to you, Estel…
"The stairs?"
"I don't know."
"Oh well, your funeral."
A new steel tip pressed against his neck, and his body protested loudly. He had to stop it, he had to!
"Mornaeg, please, I don't remember! I was only half awake when we went down- I had not been healed yet, I don't remember!"
"All right, all right. I believe you, mostly. But I know you know how the cure is made. Tell me about it."
"I…" Legolas wouldn't give up. Legolas would refuse to tell them a thing.
"Do you need Bengwiil to make it?"
He couldn't give in. He wouldn't respond, he wouldn't!
"Tell me, Estel…tell me what I need to hear."
Adda calls me Estel, by the Valar, not you.
"Curse you."
The darts started all over again, and strange visions started dancing before Aragorn's eyes in the total darkness. Some memories, some nightmares, some things he didn't recognize. Stop, please stop, please stop…he could feel the poison working through his body space by space, one tiny dose at a time.
At last, they threw the second sack away, though it sounded as though it wasn't entirely empty. "Well, I think that's good enough for one day, human. I'll let you sit in here and think it over. I'll be back for the cure sooner or later, I promise you. And as for Lindo, I find you've set one foot outside these halls, and you're going to find a carcass shackled to a maple tree when you reach your destination. You hear me?"
He didn't reply.
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Mornaeg's weight came suddenly off of Aragorn's back, and the air gushed back into his lungs, making him dizzy. Light flooded into the room when Mornaeg opened the door, increasing the spin in Aragorn's head, which he laid down on the floor, trying to get it to slow down.
"See you around, little one." The door shut. All was dark, still, quiet.
Aragorn forced himself to hands and knees, attempting to ignore the pounding in his head. His hands groped in the darkness for the door, feeling the wood beneath his numb fingers at last, and working his way to the handle. He pulled. He pushed. He rattled it, his heart's pace rising in panic.
But it was locked.
"Is there anyone there? Anyone? Hello!" He yanked on the handle over and over, rattling the stubborn door, until his strength gave out, and he slid down on the ground beside it, and began smacking his hands against it instead. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"
Give up, Aragorn. There is no help coming for you.
"NO! No, leave me alone, leave me alone!"
Your father…your friend…they have abandoned you, Estel. They're gone.
"I don't believe you, I won't believe you! I hate you!"
Hate. Yes, hate is good. Hate, Aragorn. The poison within you will subside if you can hate. Hate Elrond, hate Legolas.
"Bengwiil feeds on hate," Aragorn gasped into the wooden door. "I do not hate them."
They've abandoned you to die of poison. There is no escape from death this time, Estel. You know it.
"Be silent, voice of the darkness! I will not be toyed by your lies!" His head spun crazily, as he continued to slam on the door. Visions were flooding his blinded eyesight once more…Edren. He was shot- dying…
"Edren, no! You gave up your everything for me, you can't die now…not for me… you can't leave me with this debt, Edren, you can't!"
He loved Edren more than you. He'll be lost to despair, and leave you alone.
He could hear the sound of Legolas' boots thudding sulkily against the dirt wall.
thud…thud…thud…
"You're stronger than this…"
"Legolas…"
"Not anymore."
"He never left me…he never…"
Is that really what you think, Aragorn? Is that really what you believe?
His hands pounded against the door, head throbbing with words not his own. "Someone, anyone, can you hear me!"
No one's coming. You're down a long, long hall, surrounded by nothingness. Darkness. Who will find you down here? Before it's too late…
Panic flooded his chest, making his heart throb nauseatingly. "Legolas…please…help me, Legolas…"
Legolas isn't here.
"Legolas!"
He can't come.
I don't care. "Legoals, I'm here!" he slammed his fists against the door, crying his friend's name. It was the only thing he could think to say that made him feel like there was hope. "Where are you? Can you hear me!"
He won't come, he can't come. He's gone. Gone. Gone. Gone…
"Adda, I'm in here, can you hear me? Adda!" He was sobbing now, his fists numb with pounding against the wooden door, his body utterly exhausted. Tears spilled down his face, and he feebly thumped his hands against the door, and cried as loudly as he could, his voice steadily rising in pitch, "Adda! It's the Bengwiil- I can't fight it anymore, I can't fight it! Adda, where are you? WHERE ARE YOU?"
Aragorn didn't notice as his tired body slid to the floor, and his fists fell limply beside him, as his whole self surrendered to the visions and voices.
You will die because of them.
"Le…las…"
It is their fault you are here.
"Adda…"
They have abandoned you for good.
"No…"
Mornaeg will kill Legolas. For your silence, he will surely kill Legolas.
"No. I don't- believe you…"
Die, Aragorn. Die again.
The door opened.
Light spilled into the dark closet, and Aragorn toppled limply out of its doorway. A voice echoed above him, but he couldn't make out a face, as his eyes opened halfway.
"Estel? Oh Valar…Estel, look at me." He vaguely felt someone's fingers pressed tightly to his throat, searching for a pulse for a moment, and then the figure cried, "Dyraed! Get down here, NOW!"
Footsteps echoed up the tunnel, and Aragorn's head lolled to the side, as the elf hovering over him (it must be Harain…) tried to gently lift him from the ground, despite the human's spasmodic twitching. "Hang on, Estel, I've got you. I've got you- Dyraed, quickly!"
"I…n-need…Adda." Aragorn's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body went limp in Harain's arms. In his Bengwill-saturated mind, all was lost to black light, and gray shadows.