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Chapter Seven: The Pain of Loss
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Gimli carefully traversed the steep hill into the belly of the comforting caves. It was very crowded but strangely silent in the spacious passageways, and many women and children of varying ages were scattered throughout. An occasional baby's cry could be heard, but it was always swiftly quieted by its mother. The dwarf knew it was probably more from necessity and fear than from bothering others with the noise; the Uruk-hai armies would be here any minute. He figured on dragging the pair of taller beings back with him under the pretense of the battle beginning, rather than reprimanding them for leaving him behind straight away.
The dwarf grumbled unhappily as he approached the large gathering of human women and the few children who sat in laps, peering to see what the commotion was all about. Gimli did feel quite bad for the new elf; he had seen some of the damage inflicted before he'd been whisked away to the safety and, to him, comfort of the glittering caves. The screaming that had reached so many ears had not been lost on him.
"Move away- step aside there!" The smaller being shoved his way through the throng, knowing who he would find as he shouldered through the tall forest of humans clad in rags. The chain maille scraping by at waist level turned a few heads, but most were riveted on the three beings nearest the fire.
Gimli would never forget the next thing he saw as he finally pushed to the front of the crowd.
His bracers had been removed. The tunic he had been wearing earlier was partially open and bloody to the point of soaking, and the features of the downed elf were so twisted that it took a moment before he recognized the blasted Mirkwood prince for himself.
His breath was suddenly stolen from him.
The dark-headed elf was kneeling and looking quite healthy next to Aragorn, who held a glowing, heated dagger in his hand, lowering it to the torn stomach of the extremely distressed blond elf in his lap. Legolas was lying prostrate, weakened, gasping in deep, even breaths to contain himself, fighting desperately to remain in a state of control that the stubborn, high-born elf usually had no trouble maintaining. His face was milk-white, dripping with sweat and trembling with a strain that threatened to break his facade as he clung to the ranger's clothing, his left hand gripped tightly by the Noldor elf at his side. The panic growing in his eyes was a very disturbing sight.
The dwarf stood frozen for a moment, disbelieving of the suddenness in which the situation had changed. He was startled out of shock by a soft murmur... followed by an unearthly cry.
"Let it out, mellon-nin."
Legolas' head was thrown back, mouth open wide, features twisting in a spasm of pain as the ranger ran his knife slowly down the wound, screaming in agony. He twisted in the Dunadan's grasp, trying to escape the scorching heat that was slowly searing his flesh even as his head told him to stop. The charred smell emanating from the wound was nauseating, and off-white smoke rose from it in a small cloud. The sizzling of skin and muscle underlined his gasping cries as he tried in vain to flee from the source of this mind-numbing agony.
It was far too much for Gimli to take quietly. Three humans were shoved violently to the ground as the small being stumbled to his friend and landed on his knees. "Lad- lad, what happened?" The deep rumble trembled with grief.
"How did this happen? What did you do, you stubborn creature?! Legolas..."
Gimli's denials faded at the sight of his horrible mistreatment: the gash, the lacerations, swelling bruises, the twisted arm. The dwarf stared in horror, disbelieving. The thought that something like this could have happened... He had been expecting them to go, to die side by side in the battle to come if nothing else, but this- for this he had been woefully unprepared.
Tears welled in beautiful dark eyes and tumbled down the coarse beard.
"Legolas- Elf, don't do this to me! Legolas-" Another scream was torn from the prince's throat and Gimli watched in horror as he writhed, his body stiffening before all strength deserted him and he fell back against Aragorn, shivering. His hand dropped away and the Noldor snatched for it in despair.
"Elladan, please," the twin begged plaintively. "There has to be something-"
The dwarf rounded on the king-to-be, ignoring the Noldor. "Aragorn! What happened?! Tell me! I swear to you, I'll decapitate you with the handle of my axe if you don't tell me!" he exploded.
"He took Elladan's and Elrohir's damages upon himself," the Dunadan said gravely. His tone was distracted, and for no small reason; keeping his best friend's pain to a minimum was not an easy goal. In fact, it was proving impossible. He set down the knife and wrapped a set of newly-opened slashes in his shoulder with a sash handed him by one of the children, binding it tightly before tying it off with his teeth.
Legolas saw the knife approaching him again and his eyes widened. The moment his gaze met the orange glow, all resolve was ripped from him. The prince knew he could not withstand more of that pain; the terrible burning was still there in his gut as though the knife had never left him, and it was grinding his every nerve. His head swam with emotions, flitting thoughts, and with a sudden jab of pain piercing through his body, it became too much.
He broke down.
"Aragorn, stop- I can take no more," he sobbed, tears brimming shamefully in the proud eyes. "Aragorn- Estel, please..."
His quiet plea was the final straw. Aragorn knew it; he couldn't go on.
"We'll wait," the Dunadan told him. "We'll wait a while longer, then I'll finish it. It will be over soon; I swear to you my friend." A faint sound was in the ranger's ears; a sort of droning hum in his head, barely noticeable, that pounded with his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, trying to steady the trembling building in his hands.
Aragorn knew his responsibilities as king, should he accept them. He knew that men would die on a whim, that they would leave their friends and families bereft of them to serve him. He knew that men would suffer horrors untold, deaths innumerable, fear unfathomable to do his bidding. But the sick, cold feeling in his stomach was from the realization that for him, for him, they would probably end up watching their kindred die as well. The Dunadan was shaken by the very thought. After all the things he and Legolas had survived, after all the pain they'd suffered... With the look in Gimli's eyes the true meaning had finally sunk in, and it was rocking him to the core.
He could not accept such fates for anyone. Not for his sake.
Legolas moaned as another wave of nausea and disorientation swept his senses. "A-Aragorn... Aragorn, I don't- I feel-" The sick elf tried to pull himself up and nearly blacked out from trying to use severed stomach muscles.
"Gimli, the bowl. Quickly!"
The stunned dwarf had just enough sense left to comply, grabbing the nearby bowl of dirty water and dumping it out onto the dirt. Elrohir swiftly pulled him onto his side and held him up, keeping him from lying on his stomach as the Mirkwood elf brought up the contents of his stomach. Elrohir's face was wet with silent tears, and he held the prince's fair hair away from his face as his body reacted to the damage the poison wrought upon him. His body jerked in heaves, and he trembled as the muscle spasms wrought havoc on his wound.
After ages of waiting, the hunched shoulders stilled of larger movement and he broke down into soft, dry sobs. In a half-hour, he had quieted into what they all thought was unconsciousness. But the elf gave a quiet murmur, drawing the three beings' attention.
"I don't... know how you do this, Estel..."
The man blinked. "What?"
"Being mortal is... notall that pleasant..."
So he had been right. Aragorn's heart contracted with pain. "Legolas, I-"
"For anyone, really," he went on, oblivious. "Do you know... the only times... I have ever wept...?"
Aragorn started. The subject and the glaze over the elf's blue eyes was belying his seeming lucidity. He glanced with alarm at Gimli, who stared back at him uncomprehending. He is delirious, he thought. He would never address this in front of him.
"Legolas, what are you-"
"I have only wept... truly wept... three times in... almost three millennia, did you know that? I... they-" The elf shivered, then continued in a croaking half-whisper, clouded eyes staring into the void from Elrohir's arms. "My mother... when she died... My brothers when... when they sailed... and you."
"Me?" The ranger's eyebrows went up.
"The cliff... in the hills, when you went over... I thought... we all thought you had died." Gimli averted his eyes to avoid the ranger's inquiring gaze. "I... wouldn't believe... you were gone... You could not have... But... we arrived... here... and you..." He closed his eyes. "You were gone... I..."
"...Legolas..." The Dunadan was stunned. He had seemed so unaffected, so sure of his return...
"I remembered our... first hunting trip together... In Rivendell... and the... first time I... saw you with your father..." A small smile graced his lips. "The... first time you shot a bow... at Elrohir..."
The twin blinked wide eyes, and grinned, recalling how he had yelped in a very undignified manner and scrambled to get out of the way. "I had not missed that day until now," he admitted.
"You were always there... no matter what we did... And then... when they said that... that you were..." He swallowed, his forehead creasing, "You had gone to the Halls... where I always knew... that one day... I would... have to watch you go... watch you leave... I could not bear it..."
The golden-haired archer lifted his eyes to meet his friend's, gaze clearing momentarily. "And that was when I knew... I could... make the choice... I could stay, and live my years mourning the passing of my kindred, of you, of Gimli..." The dwarf started when his name was mentioned, "or I... could go, too. When you returned... I had almost..." Legolas' eyes closed as he recalled the weight of his emotions. "I came so close..."
...There is no fear when you remember that...
Aragorn's expression was one of stark horror as he remembered his friend's words atop the tower.
He had been dying of grief.
Remembering the image of his companion's face when he had first entered the gate and encountered him: the redness in his glassy eyes, the puffy lids, the pale complexion, the slight unwillingness to move when it wasn't necessary... It all made sense. At his death, Legolas had almost given in to the temptation of joining him, forsaking Middle-Earth. The Dunadan was at a loss; words just wouldn't come.
Now the dark circles under his eyes were deepening again, and this time they may not be able to bring him back.
"Aragorn... I have... a confession..."
The dark-haired ranger leaned in to hear. "What is it, mellon-nin? What more have you to say?"
"...Do you... remember..."
He waited expectantly, taking the elf's hand in his.
"...the worms?"
Three pairs of blank eyes fixed on the elf.
"What?!" came the three simultaneous replies.
"...When Elrohir and... Elladan left for Bree... we decided... to hunt with them... The worms in your boots; you thought... they had left them for you..." he smiled, eyes half-closed. "It was me."
"What?" Elrohir tried to look outraged. "So that was why Estel wouldn't talk to us for a week! We thought he was sick, or had lockjaw or something." His gaze sobered, but a smile remained painted on his face. "You can't die now, my friend. You've marked yourself. Elladan and I have to pay you back now that we know what that was about."
The elf grinned softly before his eyes closed completely.
The Dunadan barely had time to make sure that he was still with them before a deep horn blast in the distance made everyone look up. The rumbling that had been growing in the ranger's head was now very clearly not a hallucination, but a sound. The walls were vibrating visibly.
Aragorn's pupils contracted until they were nothing but pinpoints. His teeth clenched and he growled, clutching Legolas tightly to him.
"They are here."
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I am SOOOOO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT! GGAHHH!
I don't even know what's going to happen next, so sorry if it's incoherent but hey, at least it keeps you guessing! And yes, if you look at the Two Towers, when he says "You're late" in Elvish, Legolas eyes are red and puffy as if he's been crying. Take a close look at the picture if you can get it.
Review responses:
Bakabokken:.
BUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAH! Your review was hilarious! Make more at three in the morning or whatever! So sorry if my brother woke up your parents... even if we don't live in the same state, ne? I know, life got crazy for me too, I am SOOO SAWWY. YAY! SCARED READERS! Muahahaha... And yes, I die a lot. I hope the worms thing was funny too, I just decided I wanted to try a little humor myself after so much angst. Probly won't do it too much more in the next few chappies tho. Mata!
Shadowfaxgal7: I am sorry to keep you waiting... and this was so short (frown) Well, thank you! I can't believe you like me better than published books on the library; it gives me something to work for in coming chappies! WAH! I feel like I didn't do that great on this chapter, but hey, tell me what you think.
Lint Ball of Doom: ...I so love your name. Here ya go! Hope I'm as amusing as my bro... He just turned twelve last week. TWELVE! He's almost my height now! GEEZ I feel old.
ElvenRanger13: Oh, DUDE! One of my fave stories' authors just reviewed me! AND PUT ME ON THEIR FAVES?! (swoon) Nah, I can't reely whine like a two-year-old, 'cause I DO THE SAME THING! EEK!
Legiawen: Glad there's someone out there feeling my pain. Well, not really. Please don't feel pain!
White Wolf1: (passes out) (reads review) Nope, no happy Gimli for a bit. I'm glad El and El's thing came thru! Aww, yeah. Ya know, I should probably reread my whole story to get the feel for it back... Ah well. Any suggestions, please tell! 'Ta!
genjosanzo... (Aww heck I can't spell it. No energy): Thanks! Yup, bishie-elf-torture... Ahh.
Rogueish Smile: Ooh, nice name! Thanks for the compliments! Enjoy!
Deana: (blinks) DEANA?! I'VE BEEN REVIEWED BY DEANA! WAAAH! (faint) Sorry I haven't reviewed in a while, I'm still following your stuff, but time is short now that homeschooling is back up. As for killing... mmmmmmaybe.
whiteswan: You lit a fire under my butt. Thanks to you, EVERYONE has this chappie to read! Yu rawk! (Even if it is infinitesmaly short...)
Next chappie: Who has arrived here at Helm's Deep? Could it be... Arwen? Maybe, but probably not. Unless she sounds like a herd of elephants when she walks... Unlikely.
