Elrohir.
His brother sighed in exasperation. He knew he was frustrating him.
"Elrohir, stop moping. If you want to stay here then stay. I would have thought you wished to help Estel track these men, to be there to see justice served."
"I do!"
And he did, more than anything. Anger burned a hole through the heart of him and consumed him everytime he gazed upon Legolas's bruised and battered face. How dare they, how dare they.
"He was not awake, I have not explained to him I will be gone."
He struggled to articulate the cause of his anxiety. The words eluded him, slipped off the edge of his tongue and so Elladan misunderstood him again.
"Arwen and Gimli will be here. Do you not trust them?" Elladan placed his hands on his shoulders in an attempt to reassure.
"I know you worry about this loss of memory. It will return, give him time...And if it does not...do you truly wish him to remember what was done to him? Take the blessings you have been given. He heals quickly, he is not himself I know but considering... He does well, it could be so much worse, you know it could."
And he did. The nightmare he had feared had so far been avoided but it hovered over him taunting him with its possibility.
"It is not the memory loss" he tried again to put a voice to his fears, " but that... Elladan, he does not ask. He accepts he is here, that he is injured. He is passive, he has never asked what has happened, why he is how he is. Can't you see... it is not right. He does not WANT to know."
Elladan sighed and Elrohir thought to himself that still he did not understand.
"I know that is odd, but honestly Brother, what is it you want? Have you forgotten our mother? Better he never remembers than that!"and he flung his hands in the air and made to walk away.
He reached out and grabbed Elladan's arm, keeping him close, preventing him from departing for he could not leave that lying between them unanswered.
"Of course I have not forgotten. I will never forget." He hissed, his voice tense with the pain of it. "It is that which I fear most of all, and you know it."
A look of guilt flashed across his brothers face and his shoulders slumped.
" Forgive me. I know it is, but you push so hard Elrohir, can you not just leave it be?"
" No I cannot. He hides from truth but he cannot hide forever. The least I can do is to try and control the knowing of it because the truth WILL find him ...and what then Elladan? What then?"
The day was long and the ride hard, but that was not the hardest. It was arriving at the place Legolas had been found. Memories he did not want to revisit assaulted him, of the pure fear he had felt that day. Despite thorough searches they found little of use. He watched his younger brother grow more despondent as the day wore on and he understood why, for he alone carried the burden of guilt that his people were at the centre of this atrocity. Elrohir knew that Aragorn burned for vengence as much as he.
The sight of the city when they returned was a relief to him for he had felt guilty leaving Legolas all day. He was back and could return to his place by his side although he felt he had achieved little in his absence. It had all been a waste of their time.
As they entered the Kings residence they were met by the dwarf, Gimli, fierce and wild eyed. It was to Elrohir he looked.
"You must go to the elf." A thrill of anxiety ran through him.
"What is wrong?" It was Elladan who spoke for him as he often did.
"He was well this morning, we have been gone only a day."
"He is ...distressed."
He cursed himself for his inattention, he should not have left.
"I have never seen him like this..." He heard Gimli continue to his brothers but he was off, not waiting to hear more, running through the corridors like a man possessed. He did not pause when he reached the room but crashed through the door, his anxiety at a peak.
What he saw was the worst of his imaginings come to life. Legolas stood, unsteadily, before him. Simply seeing him on his feet was a shock for he had not thought that possible and he was filled with horror watching Legolas sway dangerously as if his legs threatened to fold beneath him at the slightest breeze. Slowly his eyes took in the damaged elf before him.
His face was white, beyond pale, a fresh graze ran along one side of his face, how had that happened? Tears ran in silver tracks down his cheeks, his breathing ragged and harsh, his hands shaking beyond control and his eyes...his eyes were dark pools of grief.
He did not stop to think, a burning desire to comfort overtook him and he strode over to enfold his lover in his arms, pouring his love over the broken and bleeding soul before him. If he could heal him with love alone he would try.
But his love was not returned. Legolas did not sink into his embrace, he did not lean towards him, relax in his arms as he had done before. There were no words of love, no acknowledgement of his presence. Instead the body he held was rigid and tense. Fear and trepidation radiated from it. The hands remained down and he made no movement towards Elrohir at all. He could feel Legolas's heart fluttering against his own chest as it rested next to him, so fast it was beating. And he could not ignore it, Legolas was frightened...terrified...of him.
He let him go and stared into the eyes filled with pain.
"Oh Legolas," he reached out to touch his face, to give some small piece of comfort if he could and watched Legolas flinch away pulling his face from his touch.
"Don't!" He hissed, angry as a snake and Elrohir was bereft.
As he stood in stunned silence Legolas began to speak, the depths of his misery flowing out of him his voice low and cold, chilling to the ears.
"They tied him and beat him."he said, "They cut his throat and I watched him die. They did it to hurt me. It was my fault, my fault and I could not stop it. I cannot unsee it Elrohir...I cannot! He is haunting my mind. Where were you? Where have you been? I feared you dead...I feared..."
He heard in the background Gimli speaking to his brothers.
"His memories returned, he has been re-living them all day, fearing they would happen to you. We could not calm him."
Oh how he had failed him. He should have stayed, he had known it. If he could have taken back the day, he would. But it was far too late for that.
"Legolas," his voice cracked with the pain welling up inside him.
"Legolas, we are safe...let me help you," and he tried once again to move toward him, to hold him.
But Legolas would not have it. He backed away stumbling in his haste, pressing against the wall in his desperate need to escape, His arms outstretched to ward him off, his eyes wide.
"Stay away!" He cried, "Stay away from me."
Arwen spoke softly, far away she sounded in his numb, grief-striken state.
"He is damaged Estel...more than we knew."
Her words echoed in his mind, around and around...he is damaged, he is damaged.
A terrible vision rose to the surface, one he tried not to think of, one he kept locked away deep out of sight. His Mother in the healing rooms screaming at them to leave her, cringing from their touch, curled in a ball as far away from them as she could get. The rejection cut him to the quick.
He knew his sister thought of it also.
The words he had spoken to Elladan that morning returned to haunt him. How he wished he had not been speaking so true, for the truth had caughtup with Legolas, he could hide from it no longer and Elrohir had not been there to help him.
He had failed him.
"Where were you?" Legolas had asked, "Where were you?"
He should have gone to Ithilien and this would not have happened, He should not have left him here alone and he would not be standing broken before him now.
Where had he been?
...
Legolas.
He was dreaming and the dream was a terrifying one. He could not move, he was tied...chained...he wasn't sure which one. A hard blow ricocheted across his face jerking his head to the side. A man's face appeared in front of him, jeering, cruel laughter, and another blow followed.
He woke suddenly gasping with fright. He was in his rooms, he was free to move, chained no longer and Gimli was beside him.
"Ah, Lad you are awake finally. I was getting bored here on my own, waiting for you to entertain me."
Despite himself he smiled. Gimli could always raise his spirits, lighten his load. But horror of the dream lingered. The walls buried deep in his mind were crumbling and as much as he tried to turn his thoughts from them he could not ignore it. Dark tendrils of fear spilled over them spreading across his thoughts, leaving him shaking and distracted. They were always there now.
"Where is Elrohir?" He asked, and it was not because he didn't wish for Gimli's company, he was grateful for it, but Elrohir alone could vanquish the darkness. The light of his love sending the tendrils running, scurrying back behind the walls and sweeping his mind clear of dread.
"He is gone for the day Legolas, I am afraid you will have to make do with me. He rides out with Aragorn, they search for the men who did this to you. They will make them pay."
The last was said bitterly but Legolas did not hear it. Elrohir was gone? The thought chilled him.
"He is gone riding?"
He needed to understand, Elrohir would not have left him. The walls in his mind bent under the strain, the blackness began to spread.
"Riding to seek vengeance for you."
Vengeance. Vengeance for what? He wondered, then Gimli's initial words sprung to clarity in his mind, "they search for the men who did this to you." and the dream was upon him again. The face of the man, sneering with distaste, the blows to his face, and he understood, he understood.
The walls collapsed.
A rush of images crowded his mind. Intense, dreadful, terrifying pain. He was beaten, he was tortured, whipped with chains by cruel sadistic men. Men everywhere he looked, he could not escape. He raised his hands to his head to try and block out the sights and cried out.
"Stop, stop!"
And then the worst came. Erynion, his friend, pale and terrified, pleading, chained, unable to move. The blade silver and deadly flashed across his neck as he called his name, "Legolas!" and the blood, so much blood.
He screamed.
Arwen was there then, stroking his face, spreading her aura of calm around him.
"You are safe Legolas, they are not here."
But her touch burned him, it hurt, and he tried to withdraw, shuffling up the bed and away from the contact. He wrapped his arms around his knees in defense.
"Don't touch me!"
The look of pain on her face made him wish to weep but he could not take it back. He could not bear her touch.
"Where is Elrohir?!" he cried, forgetting in his panic he already knew he would not come.
"Where is Elrohir? I need him!"
Elrohir would make this better. Elrohir would hold him, defeat the horror that surrounded him.
"He is with Estel," Arwen said sadly "they will be back soon, Legolas, he will be here soon."
It was then that the terror truly took hold. They had gone to those men, his friend and his lover. The images dancing in front of his eyes began to change. It was not Erynion in front of him, his head askew, his lifeblood spilling on to the ground but Elrohir. It was not himself bound and helpless while flesh was torn from his body with chains, it was Aragorn.
"No!"
Panicked he hurtled himself off the bed, desperate to reach them...to keep them safe, bring them back for without them he would be lost. But his weakened legs betrayed him and he staggered crazily across the room falling face first into the wall and sunk sobbing to the floor.
"No. No, No,"
Arwen was there again, by his side.
"They are well armed, they go with men Legolas, no harm will befall them."
But he could not listen, he could not control his ragged sobs, could not stop from seeing the tortuous images before him.
"You forget Lad, Aragorn is king, they would not let him take himself off into danger," it was Gimli, solid, strong, faithful, but not enough.
"There is nothing to worry about" Gimli continued, "Aragorn and Elrohir are seasoned warriors after all"
"But so am I," he gasped, " So am I."
He had no idea how long he waited there, on the floor refusing to move. Arwen stayed with him close but not too close, she had learnt her lesson and did not touch him. When he heard the thudding footsteps in the corridor outside he pulled himself to his feet unsteadily, anxious as to what it could mean.
The sight of Elrohir in the doorway filled him rush a rush of relief so powerful it almost knocked him off his feet. Before he knew it Elrohir was there, embracing him, he had no time to run. It was what he had wanted since he first awoke but now that he was there, in his arms, it was wrong, so very wrong. His skin crawled at the touch, his body tense with apprehension told him, 'flee, you must flee,' and when Elrohir finally released him the look of pain on his face was the mirror of Arwen's as he flinched away from the hands reaching out with love, but again he could not stop it.
He tried to speak, to explain the horrors he had seen, the images that filled his mind.
"Where were you?" he asked although he knew that was unfair. This was not Elrohir's fault, none of it was.
Still Elrohir tried again to approach him but this time he backed away.
"Stay away from me" he pleaded not wanting to feel the wrongness resonate through their closeness again. Flames of pain licked over his back as he pressed against the stone in his attempts to get away, but the dread of touch was greater and so he pressed on, wishing the stone wall could swallow him whole.
The devastation on Elrohir's face broke his heart for he did need him, he yearned for him with all of his soul.
But the fear overcame all,
And within it he was alone.