Aglâbmêk: The Singers of the Secret Power of Mahal. They could hear and sing the songs of stone, had the power to fracture rock, to hold the earthquake it was said. Dwarves believe that a realm that had the precious Aglâbmêk was blessed. Usually they were women, but Gimli is one of the few exceptions. It was deemed that he was necessary for the success of the Quest for the Ring. To protect Frodo at all costs was worth the sacrifice Erebor made by sending one of their Aglâbmêk.
Skeylingeygl: Khuzdul word to describeemergency rockslide mitigation. The technique to reduce the risk is to 'scale' the rockfall, by securing it with steel mesh and then buttress it with blocks of stone.
Nestadhim: similar to aloe vera, the juice of the plant is cooling and healing.
*Legolas was in Esgaroth with his brothers when Smaug came. This is told in Black Arrow (one of my favourite stories actually)
Chapter 40: Survivors
It was one of the many times that Legolas bitterly regretted Gimli's absence. He moved slowly because Gimli had taught him well that if you or one of your company is buried under rocks, move slowly and listen lest you bring down even more upon yourself or your companions.
He quickly realised that he was not buried but his back hurt with a sharp pain, not the bones but his nerves were shrill with pain. Burned he thought, remembering the incinerating heat that had blasted them. He shifted slowly and debris slid slowly away from him. He could see daylight, which was very unexpected, and clean air filled his lungs. Blinking, he lifted his arm, cataloguing that neither arms nor legs were hurt much beyond bruising, and though his back was painful, it was not so bad that he could not pull himself upright. He was able to drag himself free then and before he did anything else, he began to dig for Elrohir amongst the debris and rockslide.
There was movement under the small pebbles and rocks and to his immense relief, he could see Elrohir painfully extracting himself. Quickly, Legolas pulled away debris so that Elrohir was clear .
'Don't move just yet,' Legolas said urgently and knelt beside him. 'Gimli says it's better to wait and check that you are uninjured than risk moving too soon.'
Elrohir lifted a hand to wipe away the dust and grit on his face, in his mouth. He spat and coughed a couple of times.
'Are you all right?' Legolas tenderly wiped Elrohir's face and pushed his hair back to look at a bloody mark upon his forehead. 'Does that hurt?' he asked touching it so gently that Elrohir would hardly feel it.
He saw Elrohir's lips moving and shook his head a little. But all Legolas could hear was a dull thumping in his head that he thought was his own pulse. For a moment, he was afraid: what if he never recovered his hearing? But this was not the time for selfishness and instead of worrying, he pulled Elrohir to his feet.
Elrohir stood a little shakily, speaking as he rose. Surreptitiously, Legolas checked him for any signs of burning but apart from one badly singed sleeve of his tunic, he seemed to have escaped the blast of Ascatar-axo, largely because Legolas had shielded him but also because they had dived behind the cave wall and so escaped the worst. But now Elrohir gesticulated more urgently, and Legolas guessed he was asking about Elladan.
'I don't know where Elladan is,' he said but he thought he must be speaking very loudly for Elrohir looked at him with concern and cupped Legolas' cheek, tipping his face to one side and then the other as if examining him. He spoke again and Legolas frowned and shook his head.
'I can't hear you,' he said.
Elrohir held his gaze for a moment, and Legolas tried to pull away. 'We need to find Elladan and Erestor,' he said loudly. 'And if Vanwë is here, then him also.' And then he added, 'And Ascatar-axo.' For he had not forgotten his promise to Eldarion although he did not know how he might fulfil that.
But Elrohir would not let him go and turned him about. Legolas felt his hands gentle upon his burned skin, pulling away the singed tatters of Legolas' tunic and carefully examining the burns. His skin was tight and very sore but when he turned back Elrohir's grey eyes were concerned but not fearful.
'Not too bad then?' Legolas asked cheerfully and Elrohir gave him a look and shrugged.
Around them, the cavern had been devastated. It seemed like one wall had collapsed and, in the roof, a small hole had been punched through and the thin daylight was enough to see the devastation.
Legolas paused beneath the hole and looked upwards. 'Was that Ascatar-axo?' he asked in awe. 'It is like standing at the bottom of a well and looking up.' He let the weak daylight fall upon his face and longed to leave this underground place and run over the long grass of the Downs, hearing the whisper of the wind and the larks high in the blue sky. He felt he had been down here for too long. But there was Elladan to find, and Erestor and Vanwë.
He looked about to gauge where Elladan might have been thrown and saw that Elrohir was already scrambling over debris and rocks that had slid down from the cavern roof and walls.
In horror he called out and ran to Elrohir's side, holding him back. 'No, not like that!' but Elrohir pulled away, his face shocked and devasted and shouting something that Legolas could not hear.
'Stop! Do you want to kill him?' Legolas demanded and used all his strength to drag Elrohir round to face him. 'Because that is what you will do if you cause another rockslide.'
Shocked, Elrohir stared at him, chest heaving with emotion.
'Listen to me,' Legolas said earnestly. 'You will dislodge the rocks, you could cause them all to slide down over you, me and bury Elladan even deeper.' He gestured upwards to the loose scree that sloped steeply from the roof. 'Gimli says to always think before you start moving rocks. He says you have to plan it, carefully, slowly.'
Elrohir stared at him, breathing hard and Legolas could feel Elrohir's fear for his brother, visceral, like a physical thing squirming and hateful inside him.
It is my fault, Legolas thought. It was to find me that Elrohir had come here in the first place. If I had not been such a fool and been taken by the Barrow Wight, none of them would be in this tumulus.
Elrohir said something, closing his eyes and Legolas assumed it was acquiescence.
'We will start there.' Legolas pointed to where he thought Elladan had been standing when everything had been destroyed. ' It looks like it will hold my weight if I carefully climb up there. We start moving things from the top and not the bottom. If we take rocks from the bottom, they will just slide back. Put the biggest rocks at the bottom of the slope. We will build a retaining wall that will hold the rockfall in place. I hope anyway.'
Carefully, Legolas climbed up the scree, trying to feel each foothold as he did, and then began to lift the smaller rocks first so that he would not start another rockslide, and then started on the heavier boulders. He passed these down to Elrohir who then moved them to the ground. It was going to take a very long time, Legolas realised, and a little tremor of despair shivered through him.
Suddenly Elrohir straightened and turned his head, looking towards the tunnel. Legolas followed his gaze and cursed himself that he could not hear. He half drew the Ale-gezen-aozh from their sheaths. They glittered, not with the blue fire that heralded Orcs but with a silver light that seemed delighted rather than fiercely battle-ready, and then he felt rather than heard the sonorous chime like the beat of hammer on forge, like heart of the mountain.
'Gimli?' he shouted, too loudly.
The forge-warm presence that was Gimli intensified and suddenly there was the Dwarf, standing squarely with his axe over one shoulder and looking approvingly at Legolas' work. Legolas felt foolishly pleased at the Dwarf's approval and smiled. Then Aragorn and Baranor appeared behind him, and Legolas felt a strange prescience, the rhythmic pulse in his ears throbbed a little faster, as if he should be excited but he could not say why.
In no time, Gimli had organised them so that they moved carefully, lifting one stone, passing it down, and then another. Aragorn and Baranor were strong too though not as strong as Gimli or the Elves. Nevertheless, they quickly made progress. Aragorn and Baranor had both stripped down to their breeches and the sweat gleamed in the thin daylight that filtered down from the hole above.
It was heavy, dusty, unpleasant work and Legolas did not speak much, concentrating on moving one rock at a time, then listening for the Song that would tell him he had found one of their companions. But he could hear nothing at all except for the bang of his pulse, its martial rhythm. Pausing briefly to wipe his face, he saw that Gimli had pressed himself against the scree that sloped down from the hole in the roof, and the Dwarf listened intently, first in one place, then he shuffled around carefully and pressed himself against the rocks in another place.
Legolas found a loose thread in his sleeve and worried at it until he saw Gimli throw him a look and stopped. He bent his back to moving the stones and when he straightened, with a heavy boulder in his arms, he saw that Gimli was speaking excitedly to Elrohir. Aragorn and Baranor had joined them and were looking at where Gimli was now pointing to a gap in the debris between some blue and grey stones and speaking animatedly.
Elrohir climbed up the scree carefully and leaned down over the gap, peering into it. Then Legolas saw his lips move, and then he stopped and cocked his head as if listening.
Legolas watched, barely breathing, hoping that perhaps they had found some trace of Elladan for he knew that losing Elladan would break Elrohir's heart. Then Elrohir looked up at Gimli, speaking excitedly. He beckoned Legolas over for he was the lightest of foot and strongest. When he reached Elrohir, there was such a desperate hope in his grey eyes that Legolas vowed to himself that he would move every stone in the tumulus if need be.
Gimli was climbing towards them and below, Aragorn took all the cloaks they had discarded and was busily shaking the dirt and dust from each before carefully folding them and placing them out of the way. Legolas knew he was thinking about casualties then. From his own experience of dragon-fire, and of fighting in the South where Orcs would set the forest ablaze, he knew that a burn casualty was even more likely to die from shock as from the burns, and that the most important thing was to cool the burns down. Water was best of course but here in this underground tumulus there were only their small waterskins. Aragorn must be preparing litters to take any causalities outside and he was certain that Aragorn would have sent the Hobbits to set up a camp somewhere where this could be done.
Suddenly Legolas's foot slipped, and a stream of rocks slid beneath him. If they had not been building the low wall, the whole slope might have slid even further, and anyone buried beneath could have been lost. Gimli threw up a hand angrily, speaking sharply and Legolas rubbed his eyes thinking he had been clumsy. Perhaps he who never tired, had reached his limit? Or perhaps it was the constant pounding rhythm in his head and veins- it distracted him, and where it had been propelling him, energising him, he found it suddenly exhausting.
He noticed that Aragorn was shouting to Gimli and pointing to a space where the rocks had been dislodged by Legolas' slip. Gimli said something in return and seemed excited, stepping carefully over the stones to where Aragorn pointed. He stooped and then looked back at them, his mouth moving and suddenly the others began to hurry towards the Dwarf.
Legolas felt a deep frustration that he could not hear but he carefully picked his way to where Gimli was and before he even reached them, he could see a pale hand, the skin mottled with burns, had been revealed by the rockslide, just below the layer of scree.
They worked quickly then. Legolas frowned, concentrating more so he would not slip again, moving the small stones to reveal a large granite slab that seemed to have fallen and been wedged just above Elladan and so protected him. They did not seek to move the slab but worked around it and beneath it until they could see the black leather of Elladan's jerkin, and then slowly, Elladan's still face came into view.
At last they were able to lift Elladan gently from the debris and carry him down the slope with immense care. When they lay him carefully on the sable cloak, he moved slightly, and Legolas saw his lips part as if he groaned. Although he seemed miraculously unharmed and there were but superficial bruises and burn marks that Legolas thought would heal quickly, it was his hands that had suffered the most; they were burned terribly, the skin and flesh had been burned black and charred.
Legolas pressed his knuckle against his lips as he watched Elrohir wrap his brother in his own sable cloak and rest his ear against Elladan's chest to listen to the steady beat. His face was wracked with grief as he took Elladan's pulse, lifted his eyelids and peered into the grey eyes so like his own. Bowing his head slightly, Legolas sent a little prayer of supplication to the Star-Kindler and hoped and hoped that Elladan would recover. He was less sure about Erestor and Vanwë for surely the longer it took to find them the worse their injuries. But he thought they must find Erestor nearby surely?
Gimli must have thought the same for he was signalling to the rest of them to begin working again in the same place.
Legolas leaned towards the Dwarf, feeling his warmth and brightness in this dark place. 'Will you ask Elrohir if he saw Erestor with Elladan? I did not see him for I had my back to them,' he said. He felt suddenly overwhelmed. 'The Palantír was blinding. It burned.' He licked his lips and then, knowing that Gimli of all people would understand, he said, 'It was like dragonfire.'
0o0o
When Gimli had arrived in the chamber, he had quickly assessed the rockfall, its mathematics, the angles it had fallen into and assessed all scenarios. Then he had looked upwards without surprise, to see the hole punched through the roof.
'That has taken some energy to do that,' he surmised. 'Ascatar-axo or the Barrow Wights?'
'I think Ascatar-axo,' Elrohir had said quietly, 'but I cannot be sure.'
And it was not the time for questions. The rescue was the priority.
'Do you know where everyone was?' he asked Elrohir.
Elrohir shook his head. 'I cannot be sure, but I think where Legolas is standing is the most likely place.' Then he looked at Gimli. 'Gimli, you need to know that Legolas cannot hear anything.' He shook his head as if bewildered, confused. 'Ascatar-axo…it…. I do not understand exactly. It is as if he is trapped by Ascatar-axo's Song and cannot hear us.'
Gimli frowned and glanced up at Aragorn. 'I have never heard of this,' said the Man. 'But let us find our friends first and then…'He gave a heavy sigh. 'Then we can leave this place and attend to all our hurts.'
If he were amongst his own folk, Gimli thought, surveying Legolas' handiwork, they would have quickly secured the sliding rocks by scaling the loose and still dangerous scree with skeylingeygl, the worked steel mesh that secured the loose rocks, bolting it into stable rockface and so making the site safe before commencing the rescue. And he would have called upon the Aglâbmêk, the Singers, to help find lost souls. But he had no one else with the cleverness of his folk.
A little grudgingly, but proudly too, he admitted that Legolas seemed to have been listening after all to Gimli's instructive tales of rockfalls and cave-ins. The retaining wall was doing its job and Legolas had been wise to remove small scree rather than being tempted to just move the big stuff.
And yet, Gimli recognised the wide eyed shock in Legolas' green eyes, and he thought of what Elrohir had told him. So he should have not been so surprised when unimaginably, Legolas slipped. Gimli had never known it in all the time he had known Legolas. It was sheer good fortune that he had revealed Elladan's whereabouts instead of killing him. Since then, Gimli had been watching Legolas carefully, noting the trembling of his hands, the clumsy steps. And when Legolas had mentioned dragon-fire, Gimli remembered that Legolas had been in Erebor when Smaug had struck it down. He had been caught in the dragon's fire, had rescued his brother, Thalos* and had almost been drowned it was told in Dale and Esgaroth. Not in Erebor.
Gimli understood. Dragon-fire to Legolas meant horror and grief and bewilderment.
'I'm moving Legolas to work from the ground. He will take the heavy stones from you and keep building up that wall,' Gimli said quietly to Baranor. 'Keep an eye on him. He is shocked to the bone. I have never seen him like this, not in Moria facing the Balrog or the cave troll, not when he brought down the Nazgul or when he fought at the Black Gate.' He glanced at his friend. 'There is something more,' he said more to himself than Baranor. 'But I do not have time now to unravel it. Maybe later.' A flash of memory surfaced: Legolas at Tharbad, decapitating the corpses of Men, half-Men, he amended. The firelight had glinted in his eyes in a way that was unearthly so that in truth, he looked more like one of the werewolves than an Elf.
Urgent voices pulled him back to the present and he looked over his broad shoulder briefly to see that Elrohir and Aragorn were leaning over Elladan, working frantically.
'Where is the nestadhim?' Elrohir's voice sounded irritable, and when Aragorn fumbled in the pack that he had brought with him, Elrohir seized the pack from Aragorn and emptied the contents on the rocky floor. He rummaged through the packets and vials and then seized a cylindrical velvet pouch and a folded packet of something. At that moment, Aragorn stood up and moved, blocking Gimli's view of what they were doing.
Gimli didn't know what nestadhim was, some sort of herb or paste for burns he guessed, but he shook his head sadly and sighed deeply; the crushing weight of the stones would have killed a Man and he thought that if any others were beneath this rockfall, they were unlikely to have survived.
Gimli knew that Legolas was as strong as any Dwarf, though he did not have the intuition working with stone of the Khazad, but Baranor was no Elf, and his feet were heavier on the scree. Gimli had to heave the stones up and pass them to Baranor for he could not lift them on his own and could barely manage to pass them to Legolas to carry back and put upon the wall.
Suddenly, Aragorn called over excitedly, 'Elladan has awoken.'
Straightening up, Gimli looked over to where Elrohir was even now gently lifting Elladan and settling him, propped against the cave wall. Elladan's eyes were still closed but it looked more from exhaustion than injury, Gimli thought. Then Elladan blinked weakly and turned his head towards Elrohir.
'Thank Elbereth,' said Legolas, giving Gimli and then Baranor too, a quick, relieved smile and Gimli thought he too must have feared that Elladan would not survive.
'Go and rest for a bit both of you,' Gimli told Baranor. 'I am just going to have a listen. See if I can't find anything and I could do with some quiet.'
Baranor nodded and looked relieved. Gimli couldn't help seeing the strain in his muscles and the sweat on his skin from the labour. He walked slowly down to the ground and tapped Legolas lightly, indicating Gimli and that they should stop for a Legolas glanced up at Gimli and then took a water skin as if to drink it and then stopped himself, looking towards Elladan. He put the waterskin back down without drinking anything.
With great care, Gimli climbed up to where they had found Elladan. They had shifted a lot of stones and he could easily slip into the gap where Elladan had been. He crouched down to listen for a sign of life. His concentration focused now in the stone and rock, in the Earth. He felt the Aglâb-Mahal, its molten power flowed through the Earth of this place. He leaned forward and pressed his ear against the stone and listened to the creak of pebbles and rocks, the subtle shift of air, felt for a breath, a beat of the heart….
There was nothing.
A rock moved somewhere above, loosened by their work perhaps. Small pebbles slid and shifted, and Gimli tensed; was the rockfall shifting? He hummed a deep note that started in his belly and murmured the Aglâbmêk, and the stones stilled and listened. Below him, a few smaller pebbles still clattered and slipped as the rockfall settled and he listened, expecting the rasp of stone against stone to ring all the way down into the earth itself. But it didn't. Instead he heard a series of almost imperceptible duller thuds.
Gimli closed his eyes and listened again, intently, pressing his fingers against the stones and letting the energy flow beneath and around him. He could not feel warmth of life, or hear a breath, but the Aglâbmêk told him there was a space under here that was not rock or stone. Sweeping away dust and dirt, the Dwarf dug a little into the scree with his fingers. After a moment, he brushed against something leathery. He had found it.
Clearing away the pebbles and grit and dust, he saw mottled leather barred with ivory stripes. At first, he did not recognise what it was and he peered more closely.
He reeled back in shock.
A hand, skin burned white like it had been thrust into a forge-fire, and the thin ivory stripes were the bones of the hand. Gimli had seen this before. Such burns as these did not heal. None could survive such damage for no ordinary fire could cause this.
After a moment, he lifted his head and called quietly to Legolas and Baranor, 'I have found either Erestor or Vanwë.' There was no flicker of life. Not a breath. Not a sound. And Gimli listening for that tiny sign that the Elf he had found still lived, he could hear none.
He heard Legolas stepping carefully over the stones, light enough now that not a stone shifted. Baranor must have indicated that Legolas should go, he thought. Soon the Elf was crouching at the edge of the hole, and as carefully as Gimli had done, Legolas climbed in beside Gimli and helped brush away the scree and stones, so that little by little they revealed the dreadful sight.
A body, skin burned so badly it was unrecognisable as either Erestor or Vanwë . The skin of the face was mottled, burned white in places and the hair had been burned away, a few strands stuck to what remained of the scalp. One side of the face was burned completely away and there was only a flap of something leathery hanging loosely over the jaw where the teeth were bared and gleaming white. Like a skull.
Legolas began to speak, but the sounds he made were not words and he stopped suddenly as if he realised that he made no sense.
Glancing up at him, Gimli touched Legolas' arm and Legolas blinked, his eyes shocked.
'Who is it?' he asked breathlessly, and Gimli shook his head for he did not know.
Carefully they slid their arms beneath the Elf's shoulders and lifted him slightly in case he was unbelievably, still alive, although Gimli could not believe there was any chance of that. When they lifted the Elf clear of the rocks, tattered rags of burnt cloth slid from his body and they saw the terrible rawness of the flesh beneath. Gimli knew enough to recognise that these burns were far deeper, more serious even than could be got from a forge. No one could survive this. The whole body was burned too deeply
At Gimli's call, Baranor came scrambling over the rocks followed by Aragorn, clutching a cloak to carry the Elf. With the utmost care, they gently placed the Elf upon the cloak and brought the body down the unsteady scree.
Gimli did not let Baranor and Legolas follow. Legolas was still too shocked to speak, and Gimli though it better that both of them got back to working on stabilising the rocks, for they still had another Elf to find.
Kneeling beside the body, Elrohir pulled away any loose cloth that remained upon the body but left any fabric that had stuck. Or melted onto the skin, more likely, Gimli thought. With immense gentleness Elrohir lifted the burned hand, and with delicate care, pulled away a ring from one finger. His gaze flickered over it and then he slid it into a pocket. Gimli knew that anything that might still burn or heat the poor body had to be removed and the burns cooled.
No one spoke. Aragorn dug into the pack that he had brought and pulled out small packets that he opened quickly. Baranor shoved his own flask of water towards Aragorn, already opened and Aragorn sloshed water onto one of the packets and began to mix a paste. Elrohir's face was frozen, appalled, and anyone could see that nothing they did was going to be enough.
'If there is any chance at all that he lives, you had best get him out of here,' Gimli said steadily, wondering that his voice did not shake. 'You're going to need more water than we have here. Cool the burns first. Paste afterwards.'
Aragorn nodded. 'Yes. My thinking too.' He looked up at Elrohir and gave a helpless sigh. 'Elrohir, should two of us take him out now? Can Elladan walk? Or he could come later. We have yet to find our other friend,' and then he added, almost abashed, 'and the Palantír.
Elrohir blinked and then nodded. 'Very well. Two of us to carry him out. You go with him, Estel. I think Elladan can perhaps walk as far as the entrance, and you say the horses are there?'
'You should go.' Aragorn looked up at Elrohir. 'You are by far the better healer.' He looked helplessly at the burned body. ' I cannot heal this. If he still lives.'
There was a moment of stillness while Elrohir considered and then he conceded and looked about for Gimli. 'Gimli, you are best at finding the way out and back here better than any of us. One of us might be turned in the dark.' He nodded towards the still body. 'Can you help with carrying him?'
'Of course,' said Gimli. 'I will just instruct Legolas and Baranor to continue the search during my absence.' He looked over to Legolas and Baranor. 'Baranor,' he called.
Baranor straightened and wiped his forehead with his arm for he and Legolas had resumed their work and he gleamed with sweat. In the thin daylight, he looked insubstantial, his flaxen hair gleamed paler than gold. 'Do you wish me to help carry him out?' he asked Gimli.
'No. I will do that,' Gimli said. 'What I want you to do is to move your search wider. We haven't found our last survivor here,' he said, 'and I think we would have if we were going to by now.' He glanced at the body with a sorrow he had not expected to feel, for whichever of their two missing companions this was, Gimli felt he deserved a better end than this.
Aragorn rubbed his face with his hands. He looked tired, thought Gimli, and heavy with grief. 'Elladan has not spoken yet and I have not detected any sign of life in our friend,' Aragorn said, glancing towards the burned body.
Gimli's eyes skipped to Elladan, whose head was bowed, and his arms hung limply by his sides as if he were not yet conscious.
'I do not know for sure if this is Vanwë or Erestor,' Aragorn said in distress. 'I will try again.' Aragorn crouched next to Elladan and spoke quietly. Elladan raised his head painfully as if listening and then murmured something. Aragorn nodded, then turned and looked over his shoulder towards the far wall. Then he jerked his head towards the wall, saying to Gimli, 'He says that the last time he saw Vanwë, he was over there.'
While Aragorn spoke, Elladan had looked around slowly as if only now he was aware of his surroundings. His gaze fell upon Elrohir, who was crouching over the still and lifeless body, working carefully, tenderly lifting scraps of fabric from the burnt skin and pouring what little water they had over the revealed raw flesh. Elladan's mouth opened as if all the air had left him, and then he tried to move.
Gimli cried a warning to Aragorn and Aragorn turned, and then Elrohir. Seeing Elladan's shock, Aragorn put a hand upon his shoulder. 'Elladan,' Aragorn called. 'Listen. We don't know if …'
But Elrohir was instantly on his feet and striding to where his brother lay. He crashed to his knees beside Elladan and took him by the shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. 'Listen to Estel. We do not know…' he began but Elladan stared at him, stunned.
He shook his head as if by denying it he might change what had happened. The sound that broke from him then was a low, keening wail. Gimli thought it was a terrible, wrenching sound, of loss and loneliness and utter despair.
Elrohir pulled Elladan into his chest, holding him close while Elladan cried out again, words that Gimli did not know. This time, Elrohir held him close to his breast and rocked him but none of them believed it brought any comfort and Elrohir's face was wracked with guilt and grief.
Watching from nearby, Gimli thought that he understood. He knew grief, for he had lost friends to both war and old age. But then it struck him: Elladan thought this was Erestor, and he was far more to Elladan than a mere mentor and friend. The Dwarf sighed and bowed his head. We have been through all this, he thought, meaning the War, and for what? If Elladan's heart was broken by grief and loss, he might sail West with Elrond, for the Lord of Imladris had made it clear his intention to sail with the Lady Galadriel, and while Gimli felt that her loss would be the greatest Middle Earth had to bear, he wondered now if Elrohir too might sail with his brother…And where did that leave Legolas who had sworn to remain until Aragorn laid himself down in death?
0o0o
Through the pounding thunder of his own pulse, Legolas felt the misery that flooded Elrohir and knew enough to not go to him right now, for Elrohir was pouring all his devotion and furious love into Elladan, seeking to heal the wounded body and to touch the ravaged fëa that was already lost in grief.
It must be Erestor, and he is dead then, Legolas thought miserably. He caught Gimli watching him with concern. The Dwarf held his gaze for a moment, and then with a kindly nod, indicated they should start searching again. Gimli had directed them to move their search to the other side of the cavern, for it seemed that Elladan had seen Vanwë there before the Palantír had caused this destruction, and there was still a chance that he may have survived
The practical reality of living in the Wood reasserted itself and Legolas carefully tucked away his own grief for now and followed Baranor to the other side of the cave where he began to lift the heavy stones to shore up the edge of the rockfall.
Now the charging rush that filled his ears, his head and body was helpful, and he found himself working with renewed vigour. He wondered if it was perhaps not just the sounds of his own body but Ascatar-axo's militant song, still pounding through him. The pressure thundering through his veins drummed painfully behind his eyes and he thought it had grown louder, more powerful, and wondered if that might mean that the Palantír was here somewhere beneath his feet.
That gave him a tremor of excitement and fear in equal measure, for he remembered the burning heat and compulsion of Ascatar-axo to obey and submit to its imperious power. He had almost stepped into the obliterating fire of its power, almost incinerated himself as Eldarion had. He glanced quickly over to where Gimli and Aragorn were arranging some of the cloaks into a litter for Erestor's charred and burned body. They seemed unaware of any Song pounding upon their hearts, or the martial call to arms. Why was it that only Legolas himself seemed affected? He could see now that Elladan was moving slightly, and Elrohir had half lifted him and cradled his brother's head on his shoulder as if to comfort him.
It made him more determined to find Vanwë. Baranor too seemed to feel the same restlessness for he was working almost feverishly and was digging into the slope like an excited terrier. He glanced up and beckoned Legolas to him. Legolas clambered carefully over the scree towards him and before he had reached the Man, he had already spotted a tuft of something sticking out of the scree. It was not exactly hair. It looked more like fur. Warg fur.
'That is Erestor's cloak,' Legolas said, unsure if he should be excited or disappointed at the discovery; they already had found Erestor after all and he could not think how this might help them find Vanwë. He took another careful step, but Baranor was still digging frantically, and Legolas knelt carefully amongst the loose debris and began to help him move stone after stone as Gimli had shown them.
His fingers dug into the scree, and it was then that he felt it. A Song.
Oh, it was full of yearning, and loneliness, like a ship's bell that tolls in the mist, striking one single sound to find its way home…. And the sound of the Sea washed through him so intensely that he thought he stood upon the cold Northern shores and the Last Ship was leaving and he was left behind, the last …
It plunged him into a swirl of sensation and dragged at him like the tide, his longing was so great he did not think he could bear it. In his mind, he saw a fleet of white ships plunging and rising on the waves under a star-bright sky, bright flags of red and gold and banners streaming in the wind and there were elves, lords and ladies great and noble upon the deck of the ship, excited and bright-eyed, flame-eyed, the starlight caught in the many jewels in their hair and necklaces and armbands. Rings flashed upon their hands and there were many harps playing. Music flooded the air and the sky blazed with stars….
Suddenly he understood; this was Vanwë's Song. He had known of course that the Elf was one of the Noldor, and old, older even than his father. Not just a survivor of Beleriand, but one of those who had returned from Valinor it seemed and it was the light of the Trees that lit his sharp flame eyes. Had he taken part in the kinslayings of Doriath and Sirion? he wondered briefly. And then admitted that he did not much care for he owed Vanwë his life.
There under some rubble, a piece of rough fur poked out and soon, he had brought out Erestor's cloak. It made him pause briefly and wonder if in fact, the Elf already laid upon the cloaks and burned beyond recognition, was not Erestor at all but Vanwë, and that they might yet find Erestor unharmed.
Quite suddenly, sparks seemed to go off in Legolas's brain and he forced his hand into the rubble and dust. He felt a throb under his fingers, and his hand sank a little into smooth coolness. He knew he had found the Palantír …
A hand seemed to reach out to him, and it was like touching the hand of Eru. He saw endless night, and stars slowly moving in immense ellipses, huge galaxies spiralling into nothing, disintegrating into timelessness… Slowly, space and time rolled in unimaginable … Those moments seemed an eternity. In that time there was only the Song; glorious, indescribable. He soared on wings of sound, of immense waves of harmonies, of huge chords rising and falling, symphonies spiralling up and up, around him, lifting in a crescendo of sound and light and unutterable loveliness.
It was like rain after years of drought when the earth is nothing but dust.
There was a whisper. His mouth moved. A voice spoke.
He stood, lost in the Song. Unable to move or think.
Then there were hands around him and gentleness. He was moved he thought by Baranor whose kindness almost undid him.
Legolas blinked, coming back to himself in time to see Elrohir and Aragorn together lifting a figure from the debris and Gimli wiping the face of Vanwë clear of dirt and dust. And then he saw Aragorn lift the Palantír from the rubble it had caused.
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