Lord Elrond was already waiting for them once they reached the familiar long corridor in rushed footsteps, standing tall an unmoving just outside the Crown Prince's bedchamber. It seemed that for a second she could barely keep up with her father and Tadion's long strides. Her green eyes searched over the Elf-Lord's face, not knowing what to read in it, to find in it, but it was a useless task. Such face revealed nothing, only calmness and stillness.
The corridor was packed with healers, either waiting outside the door with the Lord of Imladris, or rushing past them carrying all sorts of strange looking herbs and cups in their delicate pale hands. There were guards too. Her heart made a flip inside her chest at the absurd number of them. They were everywhere. Their tall and menacing postures flanking every single one of the five doors lining the corridor, quivers filled with arrows on their backs, long silver swords glittering at the fading sunlight hanging from their belts.
"How is he? Is he awake?" The Elvenking's ice blue eyes pierced through the Elf-Lord's patient grey ones, demanding a quick answer. And suddenly, something in Lord Elrond's unreadable mask made her insides drop with a heavy weight. Something was not entirely right. If it was good news what awaited them in Arahaelon's bed chambers, surely the Elf Lord would have been smiling, would he not? But he was not, his expression one that let nothing through.
"Not yet, but he is starting to. The Crown Prince should wake up within the next couple of minutes." The Elf-Lord's deep calmed voice drenched the hectic corridor like peaceful night, and yet it did nothing to calm her nerves, or her father's it seemed, for the next second the Elvenking suddenly made to dash past the patient Lord, only to be stopped by Lord Elrond's had curling firmly around his wrist.
"Before you all go inside," The Lord of Imladris started, his storm grey eyes seeming softer somehow, not seeming to be affected by the Elvenking's fiery glare, visibly outraged to be stopped from seeing his son in a such a manner. "you should know that it is yet impossible to know what to expect from the Crown Prince once he wakes up. Awake or not, Thranduil, your son's condition is very delicate still. He suffered wounds inflicted in a manner that our kind was not made to withstand. It is impossible to yet tell how much or to what extent such treatment will affect him, but you can be certain that it will affect him. Do not touch him. At least not by surprise. If you are going to touch him be very obvious about it, allow him time to notice and react to it. It is possible that he is not even aware of where he is once he wakes up, and If that is the case do not press him recall where he is, give him time to adjust."
"I do not….I do not understand." The Elvenking's voice faltered for the first time since she could remember, frozen at the doorway, only the slight swaying of his exquisite robes and silvery hair indicating that he was not merely a heavenly carved marble figure. "He was fine in the forest….injured, yes, but he knew where he was, his mind was not affected by any of it, why should it be now?"
"Adrenaline can do powerful things. It was perhaps the only thing that kept Arahaelon focused and moving that night. I am willing to wager that he could not feel the full extent of his injuries. But now with the adrenaline rush gone, things that were impossible to notice before might start to appear." The Elf-Lord's voice softened as he spoke, and she did not miss the ghost of heavy grief that briefly crossed his eyes, for the first time realizing that perhaps Lord Elrond's warnings came not from his knowledge as a healer, but from direct experience. "All that we know is that he is very weak still, and that one he wakes up he will be in considerable pain which may cloud his mind."
She stood there, frozen, watching as the King blinked a couple of times before walking past the Elf- Lord, the latter stepping aside to let them all inside the bedchamber. She could not tell why exactly, but she walked in last, part of her not really wanting to go in at all, guilt pooling inside her stomach and crawling at her chest. Lord Elrond's words, although necessary, had done nothing to ease her worries, and suddenly Tadion's words from earlier came crashing inside her mind once more. The Elf-Lord had not mentioned the possibility of another wound in Arahaelon's spirit, and her father had not asked yet, as if both of them had been avoiding the subject which terrified them the most. But what if Tadion had been right? What if she had caused another injury to his spirit? What if she had pulled more energy than he had to give?
No. She shook her head, steeling herself as she stepped inside the room. She would not think of that yet. She needed to be stronger than this. She was stronger than this.
The large bedchamber was surprisingly dark inside, the rich deep blue curtains being neatly pulled over the wall long windows, blocking away the last reddish glow of the dying sun outside. Instead, the faint yellow flicker of a weak fire danced slowly in the grand marble fireplace, its flames being carefully controlled and fed by a nearby servant, whose only job at the moment seemed to be to make sure that the fire remained burning yet not too brightly as to not disturb the stirring Crown Prince. The whole bedchamber smelled of athelas, combined with the relaxing smells of many to her healing herbs which names she yet ignored.
A soft, barely audible moan from the bed made her eyes dart in its direction, only to find that Tadion, the Queen and King had already reached the bed. Legolas and Lossenel remained closer to her, and she followed them, coming to stop at Tadion's right side, her brother not even turning to look at her, and she did not need to ask to know that he still partially blamed her for Arahaelon's current state, even though his injuries had not been her fault.
"Ar?" Tadion's soft voice broke the silence, the musical sound mixing with the gentle crackling of the weary flames. And there it was again, that pained saddened look in her brother's clear blue eyes that seemed to focus only on his eldest brother.
Whether or not Arahaelon had heard him it was impossible to know. On the large comfortable bed the Crown Prince lay eerily still, only the tiny jerks of his head and fluttering eyelids indicating that he was indeed starting to stir. Even while partially unconscious, a deep crease had started to form on his brow as a clear sign of pain, his skin so pale it almost looked ghostly, ashen. It took all of her willpower not to flinch and the sheer number of bandages covering his body, disappearing underneath the white silken sheets and feathered deep blue covers that were neatly pulled up to Arahaelon's waist.
"Ar?" Legolas inquired this time, his voice barely a whisper, as if fearing that any loud noise would disturb the rousing Prince, and for the first time she realized that he had rounded the bed in order to stand by Arahaelon's other side, avoiding the crowd. "Can you hear us?"
Slowly, heavy eyelids fluttered open, only halfway, revealing a pair of clouded, exhausted looking emerald irises that slowly swept over the face hovering above him. However, only a second after Arahaelon's eyes had opened they closed again, this time tightly shut as his pale face contorted in agony. Tadion's eyes flashed immediately to look at their father, the latter not once looking away from his son, his hands flying as if to stroke down the Crown Prince's hair but stopping midway, fingers curling into tight fists at his sides, as if restraining himself was the hardest thing from him to do.
"Ar?" Legolas' wide soft blue eyes looked to his eldest brother in alarm, immediately sitting down at the edge of the bed, for a second seeming to forget everything at the sight of the Crown Prince so obviously in pain.
She saw it all, almost as if it happened in slow motion. She tried to react but was a fragment of a second too late. Legolas' hand reached for Arahaelon's limp left one in a comforting gesture, taking it in his. The reaction was immediate. Emerald eyes suddenly snapped open, Arahaelon's right hand flying up so fast she barely saw it, gripping and violently twisting Legolas' fingers away from his hand in a move so quick and unexpected that she was sure Legolas had even seen it coming. Next to her, Lossenel gave out a cry, and she suddenly felt the Princess' fingers gripping her arm so tightly she was sure her nails were digging holes into her skin.
"Ar, stop!" Tadion was the first to intercede, his hands attempting to quickly free Legolas from the Crown Prince's grip, while at the same time trying to not cause any more harm to Arahaelon's already bandaged wrists. She heard the sickening sound of bones cracking, followed by Legolas surprised gasp of pain, immediately releasing his eldest brother's hand and jumping back away from the bed, large blue eyes wide in shock.
Hands pushed her aside, nearly knocking her over, the few healers that had been inside the bedchamber suddenly surrounding the bed, their hands trying to restrain a now violently thrashing Crown Prince.
"My Lord! You will further injure yourself!" She could hear their desperate voices trying to reason, and yet the more hands that gripped at his figure the more the Crown Prince seemed to struggle against them, but he was too weak to put up much a fight, every jerk, every movement seeming to require incredible strength an effort from his part. And his eyes…..those sharp, menacing emerald eyes were not his...they were clouded, lost, as if he was looking as something that was not really there, as if he could not even tell it was healers the ones trying to help him.
"Stop! Let go of him!" Lord Elrond's deep voice boomed over the commotion, his figure suddenly rushing towards the bed from where he had been mixing some herbs in a steaming cup by a nearby table. "Do not restrain him!"
Almost immediately all hands let go of the Crown Prince, the latter become still so quickly it almost made her panic, his figure falling limp and heavily against the mountain of soft pillows, as if the sudden rush a strength that had come to him had suddenly vanished, leaving him completely and utterly exhausted, his face once again scrunched up in pain. She tasted blood in her mouth, and only then did she realize she had been biting the insides of her cheeks furiously.
Lord Elrond's eyes threw a sharp glare in Legolas' direction, almost as if to stress the fact that he should have listened to his warning before his eyes suddenly softened, taking in the shaken expression in the younger Prince's face.
"Did he hurt you?" Legolas' shook his head at the question, his wide shaken eyes still fixed on Arahaelon's now still figure, so much pain and sorrow concealed in those infinite blue irises that it was hard to even keep looking.
"No." Legolas stuttered. "His hold was too weak."
Lord Elrond nodded his head, not pressing the matter, even though his careful eyes swept the youngest Prince's hand briefly, as if to make sure by himself. A deafening silence had once again settled din the large bedchamber, the atmosphere heavy, tense, as if nobody else knew whether or not to move, to speak. Distantly, the fire cracked once more, and for the first time she realized that Lossenel's hand had not even left her arm, nails still digging painfully into her skin.
"Arahaelon?" The Elf-Lord broke the silence in a soft soothing voice, moving to stand right at the edge of the large bed, on the same spot Legolas had previously occupied. "Can you hear me?"
"Lord Elrond, he's bleeding." A short blond healer suddenly muttered quickly from a couple of steps behind the Elf-Lord, moving as if to step forward in urgency, but the Lord of Imladris stopped him with an abrupt motion of a hand.
Her eyes darted to the bed, widening in horror at the bright crimson patch that was now slowly blooming on the white linen bandages covering her eldest brother's right shoulder.
"Arahaelon, can you open your eyes?" The Elf-Lord coaxed again, this time eliciting a weak moan from the Crown Prince in response.
Slowly, Arahaelon's eyes fluttered open once more, those piercing, impenetrable eyes that seemed to see right her soul suddenly looking foggy, disoriented. Gradually, his eyes stopped over each face surrounding the bed, as if for the first time realizing they were there in the first place, a deep crease still present on his pale brow.
"Can you tell where you are?" Arahaelon's eyes slowly focused on Lord Elrond as he spoke, stopping to take another patient glance around before returning to look at the tall Lord's face. And there was something else in those hazy, exhausted irises, something that had been so frighteningly lacking only seconds before, when he had uncharacteristically snapped at Legolas: recognition. It was as if the Crown Prince was waking up for the first time that afternoon, and suddenly she had the feeling that he did not even remember what had happened only seconds ago.
Slowly, the Crown Prince gave the tiniest nod of the head, but that seemed to be enough for nearly every elf in the room to deflate in relief, some of the palpable tensions suddenly evaporating.
"Ar?" Tadion ventured, his voice so soft she barely even recognized it. Her brother's clear blue eyes met Lord Elrond's for a second, as if needing to confirm that he was not doing anything wrong. But the Lord of Imladris gave an encouraging nod of the head, lips curving up in a faint smile for the first time since they had met at the door of the bedchamber.
"How do you feel?" Her brother continued, having received all the courage he needed from the dark haired Elf-Lord.
Emerald eyes turned up to meet the younger Prince's clear blue ones, and even through the haze of exhaustion and pain that clouded them, those eyes were still warm, welcoming, and unreadable. It was Arahaelon's gaze, the eyes of her eldest brother, not that frightening, lost and clouded look that had consumed those same eyes only seconds ago. The Crown Prince tried offer his younger brother a smile, but his expression quickly turned into a wince, eyes closing once more, taking in shallow and pained breaths.
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Lord Elrond turn to give some instructions in elvish to the nearby blond healer, the later rushing to return to the round table in the corner of the room, once again resuming the task of mixing hers into a steaming cup. She did not miss the way in which the King's ice blue eyes burned sharply through the back of the blond, as if silently demoing him to work quicker, sharp ice melting away in a fragment of a second as his eyes landed once more on his eldest son, hand once again hesitating midway in the air.
"It is all right." Was all Lord Elrond said, but the King did not need to be told twice, his fingers ever so gently running down Arahaelon's pale strands of silvery hair, so slowly, so tenderly, as if scared that he would hurt him further even with the slightest of touch.
But this time Arahaelon did not jump, he did not tense. Instead he faintly inclined his head closer to the Kings hand, as if welcoming the comforting touch. And that was all it took, in a single second the tension that still lingered in the air suddenly broke, the crackling fire suddenly finally seeming to warm the room and not merely stand there as a beautiful piece of decoration.
"Arahaelon, may I?" The Elf-Lord motioned to the Crown Prince's left hand, the latter only opening his eyes for a second before nodding his head. And then Lord Elrond's expert fingers curled gently over Arahaelon's bandaged left wrist, feeling for his pulse and the Valar knew what else, silver yes lost in concentration as he thoroughly examined her eldest brother.
"It is good to see you awake." She could hear more than see Tadion's bright smile in his gentle voice, those clear blue eyes not once departing from his eldest brother's form, moving to sit at the edge of the mattress.
"No." The Crown Prince croaked, his voice barely even a whisper, attempting but failing to lift his right hand in order to stop Tadion, who looked somewhat confused at the unexpected request.
"He is in a lot of pain as it is, Tadion. Do not jostle the bed." Legolas added from the other side of the large bed, seeming to have easily understood his eldest brother without needing many words. But the Crown Prince seemed to not be paying much attention once more, his eyes again falling close underneath a heavily knitted brow.
Tadion nodded his head in understanding, his own blue eyes falling closed momentarily, as if to conceal the sorrow and worry that she knew must have been present in them. It was strange, painful, to watch her ever carefree and un troubled brother like this, so somber, so quiet.
"Why do you not give him anything?" The Queen hissed at the Elf-Lord, suddenly reminding her of her presence there, standing just beside her husband and looking positively exhausted, and for a moment she wondered how long it would take for the stunning lady to recover her strength, after so many years.
"I will as soon as it is ready." Lord Elrond added patiently, not seeming at all affected by the Queen's cold tone or the King's sharp gaze on him. Instead, his gentle fingers finally let go of Arahaelon's wrist, returning the pale bandaged hand to rest on the deep blue silk bedcovers once more.
"Arahaelon?" The Elf-Lord silver eyes turned down to look at the Crown Prince, once again gaining his attention, his voice once again that of the healer not the powerful Lord. "Your shoulder is bleeding once more, I need to make sure that you have not ripped the stitches."
For a moment it was quiet, her eldest brother's eyes glancing at his own shoulder in confusion, where the steady crimson path had already drenched the pristine white bandages and starting to stain the silk sheets. The change was so subtle it was easy to miss, and yet she noticed, Arahaelon turned again to meet Lord Elrond's eyes, emerald meeting gray in silent words. She had the impression of being out in the courtyard again, listening to the trees hiss in warning, to the elves around them muttering and looking around in fright. It was the same exchange of looks that had taken place right then, when Lord Elrond had attempted to take a look at that very same injury on her brother's shoulder. Even Arahealon had almost imperceptibly tensed, taking a long moment to answer. And then, slowly, he nodded his head.
"We will need to move you on your side, so that I can properly inspect the wound." Lord Elrond continued to gently explain, his voice so calmed that it was easy to fool oneself into believing they were merely conversing over tea at the gardens.
Gently, with the aid of the King, they slowly moved Arahaelon, her heart clenching painfully as he did not even try to move by himself, not seeming to have the strength to do so in his limbs. She almost instinctively reached out to help as well, but pulled back her hand a quickly as it had gone forward. She could not touch him. She did not dare touch him. She glanced almost immediately at his left forearm, partially glad to find that the burned handprint was hidden from view by bandages. Had she managed to hurt him more? Nobody had even dared touch on the topic, and she wondered if everyone in the room was as terrified of finding out as she was.
She closed her own eyes, unknowingly taking a step back from the bed. She tried to concentrate and feel Arahelon's spirit without having to reach for him, trying to see if she could sense anything out of the ordinary, but found nothing. She could barely even sense his presence at all, it was if he was too weak to merely even being able to feel his spirit around. No. Finding out would require contact with his spirit, reaching out to him, and she did not dare do that. If there was another wound, reaching out for him might even be the worst thing she could possibly do.
Instead, she focused her attention forward once more, fighting against the bile that rose to her throat as Lord Elrond carefully peeled out the bandages covering her eldest brother's shoulder and back.
She had already known there would be other injuries that Arahaelon had managed to hide that night. she had already suspected it, by the Valar Elrohir had even confirmed it only hours ago. And yet she had never expected this. she had believed, hoped even, that Elrohir had been merely exaggerating a little, but that had not been the case. The Crown Prince's right shoulder seemed to barely have any skin left to it, and all she could see was bleeding raw flesh and deep jagged cuts held together with tiny black stitches. The patches of raw skin curve dover his shoulder an down his back, the deep cuts running along with them, flesh looking angry rend and swollen. And his back…..what had not long ago probably been a perfectly sculpted back was filled with bruises so dark that she even wondered if there broken bones in his spine. There were cuts there too, long a crisscrossing one another, and his side….she had to look away, she could not keep looking if she wanted the contents of her stomach to stay in place. His side. She had known he had many broken ribs, had learned about it in the trial one moments ago, but she had not expected to see such a large portion of his side to be so swollen and black and purple and green, and she even wondered how she was even able to breathe.
Somebody hit the bedside table, the small silver pitcher in it rattling in protest at the violent collision but remaining stubbornly in place. Her snapped in its direction, heart clenching painfully at the sight of Lossenel's shocked and pained face, the snowy Princess suddenly looking as pale as her long platinum hair. Her sister's hand flew to her mouth, as if trying desperately to contain a shaken cry, and then she turned around, suddenly dashing out of the room in silent footsteps, her pale silver dress floating around her slim figure like a cloud of fog.
Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Tadion's hands flying to his hair, running through his scalp in the manner in which she had seen him do hours ago, as if he needed something to do with his hands, something to ease some of his own stress and worry.
"Almost done." Lord Elrond's voice brought her attention back to the bed, shivers travelling down her spine as the Elf-Lords ever gentle hands carefully inspected ever single stitch over Arahaelon's shoulder and back, the later hissing and wincing at the lightest of touches.
Her father's had had resumed his task of tenderly stroking down Arahaelon's silvery strands of hair, which were now starting to get drenched by the thin layer of sweat that had begun to cover her eldest brother's brow, eyes tightly shut in pain.
"The stitches are fine, and there is no new damage." The Elf-Lord finally informed after what felt like an eternity, but the Crown Prince seemed to not be listening anymore. Instead, Lord Elrond turned to glance at the blond healer once more, adding something else in that musical tongue that she could not understand. Not even a second later, the healer was rushing to the side of the bed, handing the Lord of Imladris various sets of white linen drenched in some sort of herb infused water.
"This will help with the pain." The Elf Lord informed quietly, not waiting for an answer before neatly folding the pieces of linen and placing them gently over Arahaelon's shoulder, back and side. And she could not describe her relief when after long minutes of deafening silence her eldest brother's tightly scrunched face seemed to relax, even if just a little. Whatever it was that soaked those cloths, it was helping.
"Would you like to return to lie on your back?" She could hear Lord Elrond asking lightly, but the Crown Prince merely shook his head weakly, not seeming to want to move in the slightest.
"Try to rest, my son." The Elveking's voice was hard to recognize as he spoke, the pain and sorrow so bare and raw in that ever powerful and strong musical sound that it resulted difficult to listen to it, and she suddenly had no doubt that given the choice he would have gladly traded places with his son right there and then.
Arahaelon's eyes fluttered open, blinking heavily a couple of times, as if even lifting his eyelids required strength he did not have at the moment. Her brother searched for the King's face, offering him the faintest of smile, her heart sinking as she understood that it was him the one trying to comfort their father.
Slowly his eyes shifted one again through the faces surrounding him, lingering first on Tadion, and then on Legolas. And then emerald eyes fell on hers, his eyes soft and kind and yet still ever unreadable, impenetrable. She froze, not looking away, meeting the penetrating gaze that seemed to have noticed her presence for the first time. But something else changed. Suddenly, those soft and welcoming eyes were clouded by confusion, as if he was for the first remembering something that he had not yet recalled, and she swallowed dryly, watching as his flawless face suddenly became a perfect stone mask, perfectly composed, simply staring.
It took a second, or perhaps minutes, or hours, she did not know, but her heart drummed heavily inside her chest while at the same time turning into ice, simply waiting, for something, for anything.
He smiled.
She swallowed dryly, her heart not stopping its frantic beating, as if not yet willing to believe her eyes. Btu there it was, the tiniest curve of the edge of his mouth, the confusion vanishing for eyes to be replaced by something else she could not quite read, was it pride? Wonder? She could not tell, and she once again had that feeling that he could see right through her very soul, even read through her thoughts.
"You…"He started, coughing drily as his hoarse voice refused to come out, speaking seeming to require immense effort.
"Do not try to speak Arahaelon." The King added almost instantly, gentle fingers smoothing her eldest brother's pale hair neatly over the white pillowcases. "Save your strength."
But the Crown Prince ignored her, piercing emerald eyes still holding her in place, looking at her as though he was seeing her for the very first time in his life.
"You…succeeded?" He croaked, the expression on his all too pale face holding such wonder, such marvel, that it was as though he did not even believe his own words. "You…held control."
She did not know what to say, her eyes glancing down at her feet for a second. He did not seem to have realized yet the implications such a feat may have had on him, or, if he did realize it, he was no showing it. But when she lifted her eyes again that penetrating emerald gaze had vanished, his eyes once more closed, looking utterly exhausted.
"You need to rest, Arahaelon." The Elf Lord added in a cutting tone, his face stern yet at the same time soft. The orange tint of the fire cast auburn reflections in his long ebony hair, bringing out a bright reddish shade in his elegant burgundy robe. "Do not overexert yourself."
The Crown Prince's eyes fluttered open once more, and once again it was as though the power and resilience held in those emerald irises was entirely independent of how weakened and battered his body was. And she could not read through them, could not even begin to put together a single thing that he might have been thinking, his thoughts always seeming so out of reach, too fast for her to get a glimpse of them.
"They came for it." He whispered, his hoarse voice abandoning him before he could even finish the sentence, leaving them to read his lips in order to understand. He was once again out of breath, taking a couple of seconds to gather enough strength to continue speaking. He opened his mouth again, but his eyes quickly glanced at the other healers still mixing herbs to one corner of the room.
"You are dismissed." The Elveking's commanding voice bathed the room not even a second after, the tone not leaving space for argument, as if predicting exactly where his son was headed. There was some cracking of items and cups being suddenly placed on the table, the healers instantly leaving the room in rushed steps, not even daring to glance at the bed as they did, as to not give even the slightest impression that they were questioning their orders.
A second of silence stretched over the room, feeling endless, but then the elegantly crafted wooden door was clicking closed, the large bedchamber left only to them.
"What were they looking for?" It was her father the one to ask, his voice once again so soft that it was hard to believe it belonged to the same powerful elf who had just dismissed his healers. "What did they came for?"
"The ring of power." Arahaelon breathed out, his eyes falling closed momentarily as a new wave of pain seemed to assault him, the orange reflection of the flames licking the ghostly pale skin of his face. ''Those elves…..they knew it was here, at the Palace….I believe the Orcs did too."
The Elvenking and Lord Elrond exchange looks, so many things being said in complete silence. All of a sudden, the previously warm and welcoming aura had transformed into a cold threatening air, and as if wanting to call more attention to itself the bright blue stone in Lord Elrond's right hand continued to glow in a dim sapphire spiral, whispering unintelligible things into the air. Almost instinctively the Lord of Imladris hid his hand from view, as if all too aware of the powerful band sitting right there on his third finger, such a tiny thing, yet such power, and such danger.
"They thought I knew where it was. That I could lead them to it." Arahaelon breathed out again, each word seeming to take enormous effort for him to pronounce. They…those elves. Only thinking about them made her stomach twist in painful knots, her knuckles closing into tights fists around her dress, twisting the fabric so harshly she nearly ripped it.
"But they had the wrong elf." Leoglas's voice danced through the room, his infinite blue eyes turning to glance in her direction for a split second before returning his attention to his eldest brother. And it once again occurred to her that they did not know. Her siblings, the Queen, none of them knew about the whispering blue stone in Lord Elrond's right hand, only the King and her being part of the deadly secret. Or did Arahaelon know? Could he sense it too perhaps? She did not know, she could not tell, but it was impossible to read through him.
"No." Arahaelon spoke, something changing in his voice, the corner of his mouth curving up in a faint exhausted smirk, even though his face remained lined with pain. "They had the right elf….but they did not know it. Where is my cloak?"
Tadion moved fastest, rounding the bed and heading towards the couch at one end of the room so quickly that she barely even saw him, retrieving the long stain and torn garment that seemed to have laid forgotten there for days, not even washed yet. He brought the garment towards the bed, carefully handing it to the Crown Prince with a confused expression.
Arahaelon accepted the cloak with trembling fingers, hissing in pain as he attempted to rotate once again on his back.
"Careful." Lord Elrond added, slowly and with the aid of the King managing to Arahaelon to lie comfortably once again on his back, adjusting the mountain of feathered pillows beneath his bead. It took a couple of minutes for her eldest brother to move again, his eyes once again closed in exhaustion, looking paler than before. And still she did not miss the way in which Lord Elrond's eyes clouded with worry and alarm as he studied the Crown Prince, making her stomach twist in knots. Arahaelon was not well, the Elf-Lord's eyes said enough.
But her eldest brother seemed stubborn, attempting to gather strength once more, emerald eyes blinking open under heavy eyelids, turning the cloak in his left hand's trembling fingers. He twisted it slightly, the dark green fabric not giving any protest as Arahaelon's fingers searched through the fastenings at the front, where the pin tying it together would normally be placed. But he was not looking for a pin. Instead, his fingers dug into the embroidery, at the sewn hem at the front. And then, with outstanding effort he ripped the silver stitched in one single pull, hissing once again in pain as he did so.
She gasped, her heart skipping a beat. Even the crackling fire seemed to stop, the air becoming dry. There, falling limply over the deep blue covers where there had previously been nothing now lay a thin exquisite silver band, seeming to have materialized out of thin air. But It was not the intricate craft or the beauty of the band which made shivers travel down her spine and time appear to stop. There, on top of the intertwining silver band was another large red stone, dark and stunning.
All eyes were lost in it, not daring to look away even once.
"Is that….?" The King started, but did not seemed capable of finishing, looking at the red stone ring as if it was both the most dangerous and yet alluring thing his eyes had ever seen.
"Almarëa." Lord Elrond spoke, silver eyes, the same shape and color that Elladan had, turning in her direction, and she did not need words to know exactly what was being asked of her.
She swallowed once. Her own fingers trembled lightly as she stretched them, all eyes seeming to be following her every move. She stopped, fingers ghosting over the red-stoned ring. What if it was what they were all thinking? What would that mean for them? For the realm? Could it even be?
She closed her fist in a single move, before she had time to hesitate. But the ring did not feel cold as she had expected. On the contrary, it seemed hot, as though it would burn her skin. She opened her palm in surprise, blood draining from her face as she caught sight of the ring, which now suddenly seemed to be alive. The red stone, which had previously been dark and heavy now glowed with a dull bright red inside, the color of blood, whispering strange words in the air, as though calling to its sibling, as though knowing it was near.
"What happened?" Tadion suddenly asked in a demanding tone, blue eyes looking wary, wide, gazing intently into her palm. "Where is it? Why is it gone?"
"Is it…..?" Even Legolas' voice sounded different, his face betraying a strange combination of dread and awe, even his skin seeming paler.
"A ring of power." Lord Elrond confirmed, silver eyes gazing at the now invisible red stoned ring in her hand as though it was a condemning omen.
She dropped it, not wanting it any longer, not even wanting to hold it. And yet, what scared her the most was how beautiful, how alluring the red-stone ring was. Exactly like its blue sibling, calling at her, luring her to wield it, to call on it. But how…how was it here? How did it get there? How did Arahaelon had it?
And why had she had not sensed it before? She knew the answer though that already, yet refused to believe that she had not even sensed it presence. But of course she would not have been able to. Nobody would have. Unworn, the ring had been asleep, merely another silver band and cold red stone, just as it was again as it dropped lifeless on the blue red covers, by Arahaelon's middle.
"How…?" Even the King seemed to be out of words, ice blue eyes wide with horror, looking questioningly at his eldest son. And for the first time she realized that her father had not known. Same as all of them, not even the King had been aware of a ring of power residing in his own realm, inside the cold stone walls of his own Palace.
"Found it…"Arahaelon struggled to speak once more, his voice coming out in barely more than a whisper. "Some days ago….."
"Where?!" The King blinked a couple of times, stunned. "How did you know it was here? How did it get here?"
"When I…" The Crown Prince started but the words died in his throat, another wave of pain assaulting him, face scrunching up in agony, and this time he was unable to hold back a moan from escaping his mouth, more beads of sweat accumulating on his brow.
"Shhh." The Elvenking hushed, icy blue eyes once again soft, tortured, as if he himself could feel his son's pain, slender fingers once again sliding tenderly down Arahaelon's pale silvery strands of hairs. "Do not try to speak, my son, it is all right. Just rest."
Even the ring, sitting there cold and quiet on the blue silken covers of the bed seemed to have been momentarily forgotten, merely another thing to be dealt with later.
"My head aches." Her heart sank painfully, biting her bottom lip. Lord Elrond moved immediately, walking towards the round table where the items and herbs discarded by the healers still lay forgotten. Arahaelon's eyes had not opened as he spoke, and she knew that 'aches' could not even begin to describe the massive migraine he must have been suffering all along for him to even have admitted to it without being asked. Put of the corner of her eye she noticed Legolas looking away, a dark shadow crossing his eyes, and she knew the same thought had crossed him mind.
"Here." Lord Elrond returned, gently placing a neatly folded wet cloth over the Crown Prince's forehead, the later remaining completely still, as if he did not plan to move again in a very long time. "Try to rest, we can talk later. I will finish the tea for the pain."
But Arahaelon did not seem to be listening any longer, a new deeper crease forming in his brow, a different, unreadable expression crossing trough his face. And then his eyes snapped open, emerald eyes stained with fear, a kind of fear she had never seen in her eldest brother's ever unreadable, ever silent and enigmatic eyes.
"Ada." Arahaelon's whisper shook as he spoke, the King responding immediately, giving his eldest son his whole attention. "I do not…..I do not feel well…"
Her heart clenched. She had heard that before. Once in a memory. It could not be true. Valar, please let it not be true. Her eldest brother's left fingers reached up to his bandaged chest, even though merely lifting his hand seemed to require strength did not have, gripping at the white linen bandages, as if suddenly feeling something he had not been able to feel before.
And that was all it took, that single cue and the King's eyes mirrored his son's fear, suddenly looking desperate, burning through Lord Elrond for an answer. It was as though in a single second, the King of Mirkwood was living his worst nightmare, his worst fear, unable to do anything, to change anything.
But Elrond had moved quickly too, the same fright staining his silver eyes, although he seemed to be more in control, once again the expert healer, taking Arahaelon's right wrist in his hand without even asking and closing his eyes in concentration.
"No…"Arahaelon was gasping for breath, his whole body suddenly trembling in distress, all of his pain momentarily forgotten for something else, something so strong that he was on the verge of panic, left hang still gripping at his chest.
"It is all right my son, breathe." The Queen was the one to speak, her delicate fingers taking over her husband's task of stroking down Arahaelon's hair, her emerald eyes as scared as the King's. "Try to breathe."
"No…" Arahaelon shook his head, and suddenly images of that horrible memory the King had shown her in the caves flashed back inside her mind, suddenly so real, so vivid. "I cannot…something is wrong….feels different..."
"Arahaelon, try to breathe." Even her father's voice seemed desperate, and she could have bet anything that he too was reliving the same bitter memories. "Think of something else. It will pass."
But the Crown Prince shook his head weakly once more, his breathing strained. Tadion walked away, as though attempting but failing to block away everything, to transport himself somewhere else, fingers griping at his hair in his scalp so harshly in distress that she thought he would pull it all out.
"Arahaelon, what do you feel?" Lord Elrond's deep voice varied over the panicked aura, so strangely calmed and soothing it could have stopped a storm. But it did not even seem her eldest brother had listened, still trying desperately to take deep and even breaths.
"Arahaelon." The Elf-Lord called again, this time at least managing to receive a pained, frightened gaze in return. "Take your time, search, what exactly do you feel? What feels different?"
Slowly, and evidently fighting against the fear that seemed to consume him, the Crown Prince closed his eyes, fingers till gripping tightly at his chest as a look a deep concentration covered his all too pale face. She closed her own eyes as well, every inch of her burning in anticipation. The most overwhelming guilt assaulted her once more, like cold claws caressing threateningly at her skin, reminded her that it had been her, it had been her fault. He had yelled at her not to do it, not to join the connection, and yet she had done it. And now, now the thing he had feared the most, the thing everyone had tried to stop from happening had happened again. And this time, this time Arahaelon would not recover. There was no recovering from this. For his spirits to be wounded once was enough, but twice?
And yet, when the Crown Prince open his eyes again, she did not find in them what she had expected to find.
Emerald eyes, as green as the forest outside had once been, looked up intently at Lord Elrond, wide, unreadable, so many consuming emotions swirling raw just underneath that glassy barrier. And the expression on his face….She had never seen an expression as that, had never seen such raw emotion openly displayed on a face before, much less Arahaelon's.
"No." Was all her brother said, wide emerald eyes not once looking away from Lord Elrond's, anchoring in those silver orbs as though desperately needing to find some sort of confirmation there, not seeming to even believe whatever it was he felt in his spirit.
The Lord of Imladris smiled. So faintly, yet so brightly. A single honest smile.
"If this is a trick…do not play with this." Her eldest brother's voice trembled as much as his fingers, and for the first time in her life it was as though for once the perfectly composed Crown Prince could not hide his own emotions, whatever it was, it was too much, too overwhelming. And those eyes, those emerald kept gazing into Lord Elrond's with the expression of a drowning man finally seeing the shore. "I….cannot feel it."
"It is no trick." Those words, those simply calmed words, and everything changed.
The look on Arahaelon's emerald eyes was one she would remember forever, eternally engraved inside her memories. Never, not once had she seen such relief, such sudden freedom and hope in a single gaze. And then his eyes closed, his handsome face contorting again but this time not in pain but overwhelmed by emotions she could not even begin to describe. The Crown Prince took a deep breath, but it was shaky, barely reaching his lungs, as if there was something lodged inside his throat.
Arahaelon smiled. And in that single, faint curve of his lips she understood that she was seeing him truly smile for the first time in her life. Not a perfectly composed smile, not that gentle soft smile that he offered her or her siblings, not that beautiful yet still guarded smile that even through happiness seemed to always conceal some hidden pain. No. This smile, it was different, free, as though lifted of a burden that she had not even realized had been so hard to carry.
"You are well." Lord Elrond's words floated peacefully through the room. "It is that which feels different."
Arahaelon's left hand flew to cover his face, turning his face to the side and burying it in the soft pillows. And it was at that moment, when his body shook with quiet sobs that he could not control, each breath he took seeming to air for the first time to his figure, that she understood that she had really not even begun to comprehend just how much that wound in his spirit, that void had pained him, weighed him, tortured him relentlessly, for so many years, never to be offered some relief, never to be lessened. But it was. It was relieved, and she could not comprehend, could not understand how. What exactly had happened in that connection? She had expected, had feared beyond reason that Arahaelon would have suffered another wound…and instead, the opposite had happened. But in truth she did not care how it had happened, not now.
"Would you still like the tea for the pain?" Lord Elrond seemed to be the only elf in the room capable of words at the moment, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw Tadion's gentle hand flying to rest over his eldest brother's right fingers over the pillowcase, and almost immediately Arahaelon's own fingers gripped at it tightly.
"Yes." Came the Crown Prince's muffled voice, not once turning his head, yet not hesitating, not even seeming to care about admitting to want the tea. No. On the contrary, it was as though something had suddenly changed, as though instead of concealing and controlling his pain he was determined to do anything to end it, determined to for once, in the Valar knew how many years, feel entirely pain free. "Yes."
The Elf-Lord nodded, that faint warm smile still present on his face, turning around only to address the rest of them. "You should let him rest."
She nodded her head, watching absently as Tadion and Legolas did the same, not once missing how Elrond's words seemed to say 'you should give him some privacy' instead. But she could not have cared less about being dismissed from the large bedchamber, not matter how politely it had been. She only took one las glance at the King as she walked across the room, watching in those ice blue eyes the same overwhelming relief that she had previously seen coating Arahaelon's emerald irises, as if it he too held a wound that had just been miraculously healed, as if he too had felt every inch of pain his eldest son had suffered in silence through all of these years…..
Ok, so here's the next chapter! (months later, I know, I'm sorry, so sorry). I know there's a lot of new questions, but they will be answered in later chapters as well. I hope this chapter was long the absurdly long wait!
Again thank you so much to all of you who left a review, really you don't know how much your words mean to me, and thank you for sticking with this story even through the awfully long waits: artvandelay5001, KC, pixilated-dreams, beautifulostarofthesea, helenaxo, huynga Senpai, Another Sindar, Saum the Smol Teddy, Tibbles, GondorianElf, Amsim, StarFilledSkies, thrndlwood and guest reviwers!
Love,
Elena