CHAPTER TWO
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, and neither are the locations. They all belong to J.R.R Tolkien and various affiliated companies. There is no intention of plagiarism or copyright infringement. Everyone will be returned safe and sound, with food in their bellies and smiles on their faces (:D).
A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed; I'm glad you liked the first chapter. This should be a bit longer, but…warning…character…uh, harm? Disfigurement? How would I classify that? Please R&R!
When he awoke it was with panic, which only increased when he felt someone holding him down. He began to thrash about and struck the person hard, before throwing himself into a corner, panting with fear.
'Ah, mellon nin…what has gotten into you?'
Legolas focused on the voice and saw Aragorn clutching his nose, blood seeping through his fingers.
'…Estel…what have I done?'
His eyes filled with tears and he buried his head in his hands, veiling his face with his hair. Aragorn rushed to his side and, crouching down next to him, stroked his back, his neck, his hair. Legolas pulled away, refusing to meet Aragorn's eyes. Aragorn didn't quite manage to hide the hurt he felt, and stood up, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve.
'I think you should leave.' Legolas whispered.
Aragorn did so, and Legolas almost cried. He knew then that he had to leave Rivendell, and soon, before things got more out of hand. He went to find Arwen to tell her that he was leaving. He found her by the horses, watching them as they frolicked in the clear Rivendell air.
'Hello Prince of Mirkwood. I trust your health has improved.' She said courteously.
'Yes, thank you. But I am afraid I must be leaving Rivendell; there are some…urgent matters I must take care of at home.'
'But you just arrived…' She whispered, frowning.
'I really am sorry, but I must take my leave. Forgive me. I will return soon.'
With that, Legolas bowed to Arwen and returned to his chambers to pack. Within a short period of time he was astride his horse at the forests edge, drinking in Rivendell's beauty. He knew he wouldn't return…at least not while Aragorn lived.
--
Aragorn entered the Great Hall where the others were gathered around a large table. Only…one was missing…the elf.
'Mornin' Aragorn.' Sam mumbled through a mouthful of bread.
Aragorn nodded and sat next to Arwen, kissing her cheek. She leant towards him and whispered in his ear, 'He left this morning.' Aragorn's eyes flashed and he stalked out of the room like the world was coming to an end. Arwen sighed wearily and returned to the lively conversation of the young hobbits. It's as I thought; he just doesn't know it yet, she thought to herself forlornly.
--
Aragorn had no idea why he was following Legolas. It felt like a betrayal to Arwen to do so, but he was concerned for his old friend, that's all it was. So why the guilt? His mount was breathing heavily, foamed spittle running from its mouth when he finally stopped to rest. The horses quivering muscles collapsed, and it lay there silently, looking at him reproachfully. He stroked it gently and whispered in its ear words of comfort, before instructing it to rest before it returned to Rivendell.
'I will continue on foot.' He told the horse.
And this he did. He couldn't understand why he had not yet come across the elf, unless he was still riding. But it was unlike Legolas to mistreat an animal, so perhaps he wasn't returning to Mirkwood at all. Aragorn sighed. The forest could be dangerous at night, and daylight was fading fast.
'…Legolas…where are you?' He whispered as darkness swallowed the earth.
--
There was no moon that night, and Legolas was frightened. The forest was all wrong; the trees were unusually quiet.
'What silences you?' He whispered, but received no response.
He too had abandoned his horse; right now it was en route to Mirkwood, carrying a note that explained why he was not yet ready to return. And he felt strangely relieved, for there were no more responsibilities, only himself to care for. Right now though, he could have done with the company of his horse, of anyone, really. A sound behind him made him reach for his bow, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
--
Aragorn had become quite lost. He had no idea how; he had never been lost before. But it almost seemed as if the trees were in the wrong place somehow. Frustration filled him; he was sure he was travelling in circles. He would have to stop, camp for the night, and collect his bearings at first light. But the forest was wrong, and it concerned him. Still…he was going nowhere fast. As he made to settle down, a dreadful rustling filled his head, like the death rattle of the trees. He pressed his palms to his ears, and the sound clarified. The trees were speaking to him.
'Saaa…ve himmmmm…hhhh…elpp…hhhhi…iiim…' They whispered.
'Who…who?' Aragorn cried.
'Greeeeeeee…nleaaafffff…' Was the response…and then silence.
It was all wrong, Aragorn knew. Trees weren't supposed to speak with mortals, or, rather, mortals weren't supposed to understand trees. But…Greenleaf…could they have meant Legolas, he wondered. A cry broke the still night air and it chilled the ranger to the bone. It was the cry of an elf's suffering, a torturous cry that, had nature her way, would never have cause to be uttered. Aragorn thundered through the forest toward the sound, the trees seemingly moving out of his way. As he drew nearer to the sound, the trees appeared to be closer, slowing him down. He finally stopped running and stealthily crept closer, gingerly parting tree branches. He peered into a clearing that glowed orange from the light of a fire and saw Legolas. His heart broke. The elf was tied up, his captors orcs. Fiercely jealous of an elf's beauty, when they caught one they tortured it mercilessly until nature could take no more and granted it death. They had taken his clothes, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. One was wearing his tunic, the other his leggings, both taking perverse pride in his humiliation. His bow and arrows were fodder for the fire. Legolas' face was marred by a huge cut, from his hairline across one eye to the opposing jaw line. And the blood…so much blood. Hatred filled Aragorn's heart and he grasped his sword handle. Aragorn knew that to act rashly could result in the elf's death, but he needed to let him know that he was there. A hawk cry rang out, causing hope to blossom in the elf's heart; Aragorn could see it in his face. This dimmed as the orc in his tunic licked the blood from his wound. By now all Aragorn could see was a red haze, and finally the branches parted, allowing him into the clearing. Steel flashed through the night as Aragorn fought for the love he never knew existed. When it was over he felt repulsed, the orcs blood sprayed onto the forest floor. He thought he heard a sigh of relief from the trees, but was not quite sure. Aragorn turned to Legolas. The elf had drawn his knees to his chest in an attempt to hide some of his nudity, but he was barely conscious. Aragorn quickly untied him and gently wrapped him in his cloak.
'Legolas…can you hear me?' he whispered, tenderly stroking the injured forehead.
The elf moaned before lapsing into darkness, released from his pain. Aragorn knew that if he was going to survive he must get him back to Rivendell as soon as possible. And he ran, his feet seemingly not touching the floor. Exhaustion didn't factor into his actions and he ran. By daybreak he had reached Rivendell's borders and was approached by two elven guards. He thrust Legolas at them, whispering 'Help him' before exhaustion caught up with him and he collapsed.
