Chapter 20
The elf lay, eyes closed, heart beating wildly, relishing the languid aftershocks reverberating through his body, the remnants of the witch king's herbal mixture prolonging the sensations. His breath came in ragged gasps that sounded so loud to ears accustomed to almost total silence for what seemed an age.
It had seemed so real. He had felt the bones grating within the creatures neck as they gave way and it had felt so good. A thrill of remembered pleasure ran through him as his fingers brushed across his taut stomach, sticky with the evidence of exactly how good it had felt. His forehead creased into a frown then as he began to dwell upon what had just happened. Conflicting emotions ran through his mind. It had felt so right, so why did he feel so wrong? The creatures deserved to die. Didn't they? Kill or be killed. It was what he was trained for. The only thing he was good at. Why shouldn't he take pleasure in it? A wave of sadness washed over him then as a well known face swam into his mind. Lhosson. Tears sprang to his eyes as his bygone mentor's smiling features became dark and and riven with hatred. Aye, killing, he was very good at that.
"It was not your fault."
The elf's eyes shot open as the whispered words echoed around the room. Was that? His heart began to race as he lay, motionless, as if afraid to move, willing the voice to speak again and prove itself real.
"You have done naught to be ashamed of."
Slowly he raised himself into a sitting position, unsure if he should trust his ears, wary that his mind was once more playing tricks.
"Accept yourself for what you are youngling."
A figure began to resolve out of the darkness and the elf's heart leapt with joy, he was no longer alone! He tried to speak, but his mouth was suddenly dry. This was no dream. Surely his mind could not be so cruel. Without thought, his hand reached out but the figure was not close enough to touch.
"Are you real?" The words finally managed to croak out of his mouth and he trembled at the thought that he may yet be dreaming.
"I. Am here." The voice was no longer a whisper but rich and strong, with hints of the power it could contain and the elf felt a shiver run down his spine, but whether of fear or pleasure, he could not have said.
A wave of relief threatened to overwhelm the elf as the shadowy figure took another step closer. It was tall and shrouded from head to foot by a dark cloak, the hood of which was pulled forward to obscure features that even the elf's eyes would have had trouble discerning in the thick dark of the small room, but he looked solid enough. A million questions raced through his mind as he blinked and stared, expecting the form to disappear at any moment, proving itself to truly be the phantom he feared it was but it remained stubbornly present and he began to allow his heart to hope that it was, indeed, real.
"You are here." The words came out in a sob and it was all he could do to stop himself from falling to his knees, prostrating himself before the tall stranger as he finally broke down, overcome, in an emotional storm he could not control.
The Witch King stood and watched with satisfaction as the elf finally gave way, all defences swept aside by the carefully managed torture, both physical and mental, enacted on him over the weeks since his capture. He knew that this was the moment to strike, whilst the young creature was in emotional turmoil and at his most vulnerable, he moved closer, hoping that his masters illusion was strong enough, then reached out to gently lay his hand upon the sobbing elf's shoulder. A thrill ran through him as he felt the strong muscles rippling under his fingers which intensified as the elf leaned into his touch and he had to stifle the triumphant shout threatening to escape his lips. He could feel. After an eternity of wishing, he could feel again, and it felt so good.
.
~o~
.
Aragorn sat back upon his heels, a sigh of relief whispering past his lips. The young man was sleeping peacefully once more and silence had fallen over their little haven.
"Is it safe to return?"
A fair face peered through the brambles quickly followed by two lean bodies as Estel nodded in acquiescence, allowing the two half elves to return from their self imposed banishment. It had appeared that Aragorn was the only one of the three the stranger would tolerate to approach, screaming in terror each time one of the twins neared him.
"He is sleeping once more." The young human smiled at his brothers as they moved to sit beside him once more.
"What, in the Valar's name, was that all about?" The youngest twin, ever the more vocal of the pair asked abruptly.
"He was frightened, muindor." Aragorn replied calmly. "That is all."
"But why?" Elladan questioned, sounding hurt. "I would not have hurt him, neither of us would. Did he not realise I was trying to help?"
"Maybe he mistook you for an orc 'dan." Elrohir could not resist teasing his twin. "You must admit, there is a slight resemblan, oof!"
The youngest twin suddenly found himself winded by an airborn bedroll, propelled with some force into his midriff. Spluttering for breath he looked over to a set of sparkling eyes regarding him with unmittigating glee and scowled in mock affront before throwing the offending article back and breaking into laughter as Elladan agilely ducked , allowing the bedroll to catch their human brother square in the face. There followed a few moments of friendly skirmishing in which each attempted to gain supremacy over the others before, as was usually the case, the twins banded together and Aragorn found himself pinned to the ground, face down, in a small pile of leaves.
"Yield!" Two voices sounded as one as the young man struggled under the twin weight. "Do you yield?"
"Aye," resignation filled his voice as Aragorn suddenly stilled. "I yield." He sighed as the pair rolled off him and he turned over, accepting Elladan's hand in aid to sit up. "You cheated!"
"In what way?" The elder twin's eyes were wide and innocent.
"You know very well." Aragorn resettled himself beside the fire, brushing dead leaves from his hair. "How am I ever supposed to win against both of you?"
"Oh, Estel," Elrohir grinned. "You should be used to it by now."
"'tis good for you Estel.," Elladan broke in. "The enemy never attack one at a time, so why should we!" He leaned back on his arms, in subconscious mirror image of the position adopted by his twin.
Aragorn attempted an affronted glare but the identical, mischievous grins sported by his elven brothers soon had his own face responding in kind and the three chuckled in familiar good humour as he raised his hands in surrender.
"To return to my original query." After a few moments of silent amity Elladan raised his voice once more. "What was so upsetting our young friend here?" He motioned over at the injured youth who had, remarkably, remained peacefully asleep, under a worn blanket by the fire.
"Ah, 'tis a strange tale." Aragorn frowned as he looked from brother to invalid and back again. "He claims he saw an elf consume the living essence from an orc."
"What ?!" Two pairs of brown eyes opened wide as they spoke together.
"How on Arda?"
"Why would?"
"If you will just let me explain." The young man broke in over his brothers clamour. "It appears that there is an old folk tale in these parts," Aragorn continued once silence had settled again. "Of how elves 'maintain' their immortality." He paused to collect his thoughts about how best to enlighten the pair, deciding straightforward and to the point was probably easiest. Taking a deep breath, he began again. "It is said that the elves hunt down their prey, then use magic to suck the life force out of them in order to replenish their own.." He paused again to take in the confused expressions on his brothers faces.
"But how?" Elladan was the first to regain his voice, his words soft, coming slowly as he thought about what the young man had said.
"Where on Arda did they ever get such as stupid idea!" The younger twin, in contrast, almost shouted, staring at the injured youth in incomprehension.
"Hunt? You mean they think we hunt orc's for that?!"
Aragorn scanned both faces in front of him and chose the reply to his elder brother carefully.
"Not just orc's." He blanched at the cold expressions turned towards him then. "In fact, orc's are, apparently, not much good for what you need." He paused again to swallow before continuing. "You need, human's, human life. They think you hunt humans." The final sentence spilled out of his mouth in a jumbled rush and he sat back waiting for the storm he knew would come.
"We do what!"
Eru's arse!"
Elladans face was suddenly drained of all colour as he sat, as if rooted to the spot, eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief. Not so his twin. As the expletive left his mouth, Elrohir exploded into action, leaping to his feet, fury in his eyes and sword drawn as if facing a corporeal enemy.
"'Roh!" Both human and elven brother shouted in tandem as the tip of the deadly blade swung in an arc downwards to end lightly touching a faded spot on the fabric over the wounded youth's heart. He fairly bristled with anger.
"Is this what they think of us?" Eyes flashing with ire bored into Aragorn's. "After all we do for them, to help keep them safe, risking our own lives for theirs!" The blade moved from heart to head. "To think that we could, we could..."
As suddenly as it had manifested itself, his anger dissipated. The blade drooped in his hand and his eyes filled with confusion.
"How came this to be?"
"I do not know, muindor." Aragorn slowly stood and reached for his brothers sword, relieved when lax fingers allowed them to ease it from their grip, heart filled with pain at his brothers obvious anguish.
"Does Thranduil know of this?" Elladan's quietly clipped whisper made Aragorn look down to see him still seated, eyes glazed as he stared into the distance, his face a smooth, cool mask.
"I do not know." The young man replied again with a shake of his head. "I can not think he would allow such a thing to spread. But," His voice faltered briefly as his brother remained motionless and he swallowed before continuing. "But, that is not all he said."
"There is more?"
Elladan's head slowly turned up towards his human brother, eyebrows raised in silent query and Aragorn suddenly felt like a child again, caught out in some misdemeanor, standing before his adoptive father and awaiting his ruling.
"Aye," he shuffled his feet nervously. "He said the elf attacked him after the orc and tried to, " he licked his lips. "Tried to take his life force too."
There was a collective gasp of disbelief from the twins.
"He said, if not for his friend, knocking the elf unconscious he would be dead." The young man stared down at the injured youth. "That was why he was so afraid of you both. He was sure you were going to finish what 'the fair haired elf' started."
"Nay!"
"What?"
Both twins stared at Aragorn in disbelief.
"He said the elf was wild and fought like a demon with two white knives." Aragorn could not tear his eyes from the prone figure at his feet, his voice now almost a whisper. "He said he wore naught but torn breeches and a bow and quiver and that he, he, laughed when he killed the orcs."
The young man fell silent as Elrohir's hand gently squeezed his shoulder and Elladan slowly rose to his feet with a soft question.
"You think it was he don't you?"
"Aye," Aragorn nodded and replied sadly, "Who else could it be?" The world went hazy as his grey eyes filled with tears.
"If it was Legolas, Estel," Elladan reached out to place a finger under his human brothers chin to gently lift his face until their eyes met. "At least we know he is alive."
"Nay!" The word came out in a tortured shout causing the elves to share a confused glance.
"We will find him Estel," Elrohir spoke soothingly, trying to calm the young man. "All we need to do is find out where these men were attacked and try to track him from there."
"Aye," The elder twin nodded agreement. "At least we know where to start, Estel. If we find where he was, we will be that much closer to find out where he is." He smiled slightly in encouragement.
"I know where he is." The words were spoken so quietly that even the twins ears hardly registered what was said and pulled back to stare questioningly into his face.
"I know where he is." This time Aragorn's voice was stronger although it held a note of fear which was reflected in the worried expression he wore. "He is in Dol Guldur."
As the twins both opened their mouths to question their adoptive brother the wounded youth began to moan once more and he shot them a warning glance before kneeling down to whisper soothing words and place a hand gently on his brow before moving it to lay over his rapidly beating heart. Far from having the desired, calming, effect, the contact appeared to increase the youth's agitation and he began to utter garbled pleas and imprecations to an unknown assailant to spare his life. Aragorn bent forwards in an effort to make out exactly what was being said when the youth suddenly lashed out, catching him unawares with a blow to the side of the head. Stars suddenly burst before the healers eyes as he fell sideways barely managing to dodge the youth's knee as it rose in an attempt to connect with his face.
"Estel!" The twins voices were filled with concern as they dropped swiftly to their knees beside him.
"I am fine." Shaking his head to clear his vision Aragorn was alarmed to see that blood had begun to seep from the youth's injury once more and he balled the blanket that had been covering the invalid tightly, then pressed it down over the bandages covering the wound.
At this the youth gasped in pain then began to shake uncontrollably, his eyes opened wide, then rolled to the back of his head and his back arched, thrusting his middle up into the wadded cloth before he collapsed, with a long, drawn out sigh to lay, motionless upon the ground before them.
"NO!" For a second, Aragorn remained motionless, staring at the inert figure, before his fingers madly began to feel for signs of life. "No,no,no,no."
Shaking his head in disbelief he frantically looked from one brother to the next as if begging them to tell him that what he knew in his heart to be true, was not. Tossing the bloodstained blanket aside, he reached to unwrap the bandages in an effort to get to the wound and found his hand stilled by another, longer and paler than his own.
"He is dead Estel."
"Nay. There must be somethi.."
"He is dead. Estel."
Raising pained eyes to meet his older brother's, Aragorn saw within them the truth and closed his own in grief. His shoulders slumped and as he sagged down he felt the comforting embrace of his brothers arms surround him.
"You did all you could. He is at peace." Whispered into his ear, the words soothed the young man's heart and he nodded slowly before opening his eyes once more to stare sadly at the deceased youth.
"I know." Tears had begun to blur his vision as he tore his eyes away to turn them to his eldest brother once more. "But, he was so young. I wish I could have done more."
"There was nothing more you could have done, muindor." Elrohir placed a hand upon his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly as he spoke. "It was always going to end this way."
A/N
Sorry, sorry sorry for the delay in posting but I am finding this story so hard to write atm and life just isn't helping either.
Thanks to you all for reading and being patient and especially to those of you who have favourited and reviewed.
Mentions must go out to Coldfire127,WarriorCatSpotedLeaf, Estaron,Obsidianglasses,Betsam0731, 5-STAR and NirCele. Thanks for the support guys.
I promise I will not abandon this, unless you've all had enough of course ;)