The Elf has lost his mind. Aragorn stared intently at the bound captive across the clearing who was laughing nonchalantly, smiling mirthfully, and acting as if he had no care in the world. What does he find so amusing about this situation, and why did he tell me to wait? His curiosity piqued, the Ranger stood, his bones popping in discomfort, his exhausted muscles stretching painfully in protest. Careful not to wake the sleeping and injured leader that lay close to him or the snoring brother right by, Aragorn crossed the clearing with his healing bag in hand. Doran's eyes tracked his progress as the Ranger walked towards him. Perhaps now is a good time for the Prince and me to talk.
Doran whispered questioningly, his bearded face fashioned into a worried frown, "What is it, Strider? Is Ament well?"
"Ament is fine," the healer responded in like tone, not wishing to rouse the camp. "I am checking on the Elf. Ament does not need to see the new marks Ramlin has left."
The mercenary shook his dirty blond locks, grinned impishly, and replied, "Hands off, now. If we don't get to have fun with him, then neither do you." Though the man was only jesting, Aragorn's stomach heaved at the thought of what Doran was implying. "But you are right, Ament would be better off not seeing Ramlin's new handiwork," he added seriously, anxious for his friend not to suffer Ament's wrath.
"Will you watch over Ament while I see to the Elf?" The Ranger turned, glancing at the resting mercenary. "He is only sleeping but I would rather someone stay awake beside him in case something changes."
My talent at lying grows every day.
His roguish smirk again decorating his weathered face, Doran rose, nodding his acquiescence. Aragorn waited until the man had situated himself vigilantly beside his leader and friend before he walked to the Elf, who appeared to be oblivious to his presence, though the Ranger knew better.
"Legolas," Strider prompted, gaining a baleful look from the Wood-Elf. What have I done now? "What is it?"
"Do not call me by that name," the Elf scolded, his lips barely moving with his hushed words. "Only you and Ament know."
Exasperated, the Ranger countered, "It does not matter. We will leave tonight. Doran will..."
"I am not leaving," Legolas deadpanned, cutting short the Ranger's reply, his intense gaze boring into the human's confused one. "I am staying. You may leave if you want."
Aragorn sat with his mouth agape at the Prince. "You have lost your mind," the Ranger heard himself mutter, his gaze shooting up from his satchel of healing supplies so that he could catch the Elf's enraged expression when Aragorn realized his faux pas.
However, the Elf quirked an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turned up into a ghost of a smile. "That's what I thought," Legolas quipped, his voice lilting with merriment. "I concluded I had been around you humans for far too long."
The Ranger could not help but to return the smile, his own weary face lighting up with genuine cheerfulness to see the Silvan in high spirits. Reality intruded, though, when a thunderous snore from Ramlin broke the Ranger and Elf's enjoyment of the moment. Valar, I need sleep; I'm giddy.
"You cannot stay here, Le..." Aragorn caught himself, "Tauron." The Elf grinned.
He is mad, and I am mad, and Ament is mad, and Ramlin is mad, and...
Legolas broke the man's thoughts, "I will stay here because it is my duty to my people – to all the Elves. I do not know what your intentions have been, but if you truly wish to help me, you will help me stop Ament from seeking his revenge against my father."
Remembering that Doran believed him to be tending the Elf's wounds, Aragorn sought a flask of water from his knapsack. Now that I wish to leave, the Elf wishes to stay. Of course. He removed the container's lid, his slow movements matching the slowed machinations of his mind. Holding the flask to Legolas' lips and tilting it back for the Elf to drink, Aragorn pondered on the consequences of keeping the Prince here. He had intended to keep the Elf captive until he found out the whereabouts of the goblet; now that the Elf wanted to stay, the Ranger could complete this objective. At what cost to Legolas? He chooses to stay for the same aims as I but the cost for him is much higher. It was then that Estel understood that the Elf must trust him. He thinks I can protect him.
Slipping a wafer of lembas from its leaf wrapping, the Ranger crumbled the bread into several small pieces, hiding the bread itself from Doran so that his possession of Elven waybread would not be seen, and ignorant of the increasing agitation of his charge at this lack of response. He fed the Elf the fragments, not meeting Legolas' gaze yet. I had never considered he would want to help me, especially after all I have let happen. He finished giving the Elf lembas, and again took up the flask to let the Prince slake his thirst. Taciturnly, Aragorn replaced the items he had taken out, searching now for clean linen to place on the Elf's leg wound.
"Strider."
Sighing, the Ranger pulled out the roll of bandages from his sack and scooted away from the Elf so he could reach the Prince's injured leg. "I cannot protect you."
The Elf bristled, growling softly with wounded pride, "I do not need your protection, human."
"I think you do, as you are now, bound and at the mercy of men who would see you suffer ere they finally killed you. And what of Ramlin? Do you think he will give in so easily to his brother's orders? If he finds out who you are then nothing will stop him." Aragorn was pleased to see that the Elf's wound was healing again with no signs of infection. He was less pleased, however, with the tirade Legolas hissed next.
"You detained me before when it suited your purpose. What purpose do you have now for wanting to free me? Is it because of who I am? I know what Ramlin would do if he knew my identity but I am willing to risk that outcome for the chance to keep my people and father safe. What is your own goal in this, Strider?"
Aragorn finished tying the linen, and then rubbed his eyes roughly with the heels of his palms. "I know that I kept you here against your will before but this has gone too far. We need to leave. I can continue this deception no longer." Moving closer to the Elf, the healer prodded the skin around the archer's throat gently, ascertaining that the injury was no worse. "I had hoped to discover where Ament was headed, free you, and then try to find the goblet myself. I didn't think it would take this long and I didn't know they were kidnapping an Elf when I stepped into this mess, believe me."
A short silence ensued before the Elf queried, "Why did you step into this mess, Strider?" Legolas' anger was replaced with his usual stoicism.
The Ranger tried to find another task to occupy him so that Doran would not become suspicious as to why he was still treating the Elf. Picking up his bag, he leisurely sifted through it, not looking for anything in particular. "I was in Fulton, I overheard them talking about the goblet and how they would use it to destroy the Elves. Though I could not remember the details, Ada had once told me of it. I decided to follow the men but instead had to join them so that Ramlin wouldn't slit my throat. Meika and Jalian showed up with you, and I thought I could keep you safe long enough to find out where the goblet was hidden."
Legolas seemed satisfied with the oversimplified explanation, though he questioned, "Your Ada told you this?"
He may as well know. Mayhap I can gain more of his trust.
"My Ada, yes; Lord Elrond of Imladris. He took me into his house as his son." At first, the Wood-Elf only stared expressionlessly at Aragorn. He then began to snicker quietly. "It is true," Strider grumbled, believing the Elf thought him a liar.
The voice of reason in the back of his mind countered, Why would he not think I am a liar?
Trying to cease his snide laughter, Legolas protested, "No, Strider, I do not doubt you. It would explain much about you to know that you are the adopted son of Elrond. Your abilities as a healer, the lembas, the Sindar, and, I take it, your concern for the well-being of the Elves stems from this upraising. I will believe you." The Silvan snickered again. "It is just that I know your brothers. You must be stout at heart indeed." At this, the Elf laughed outright, his merry voice resounding throughout the glade, breaking the silence of the dark forest for a few short moments with welcome, if ill-timed mirth.
"Strider? What is wrong with the Elf?" Upon hearing the Elf's cachinnation, Doran had left his place beside the wounded leader, his own curiosity piqued at the odd behavior from the normally aloof Elf.
Aragorn turned, his mind reeling with fatigue and the Elf's laughter. "It is nothing, Doran. I believe he has lost his mind."
At least I didn't have to lie. Returning his attention to the Elf, he noted that Legolas was trying hard to stifle more snickers from leaving his lips. The Ranger glared at the Elf in warning, although Legolas' merriment was contagious and Estel's glare faded into mild amusement.
"What should we do for him?"
"Nothing can be done for him, I'm afraid," Strider replied to Doran, still staring at the immortal, who was losing his battle not to laugh after the Ranger's last statement. Pointedly, Aragorn raised his brows, mouthing, 'We will talk in the morning.' To Doran he said, "Let's leave him be. Mayhap some rest will restore his senses."
Doran nodded, glancing fretfully at the Elf before following Strider to the middle of the camp, where the Ranger was tossing the used linen into the fire. "You look like you could use some rest yourself, Strider. If Ament is fine, why do you not sleep? I will wake you should he fall ill or awaken. I will wake Meika shortly, and I will give him the same instruction."
Gratefully, the Ranger accepted the invitation with a smile, "I think I could sleep, thank you."
Gathering his bedroll, Aragorn moved it close to Meika and Jalian, giving the still smiling Elf one last bewildered and bemused glare before he lay down on his side. He will stay whether I do or not, and I will not leave him here. Our aims are the same, it seems. He is the Prince. I should not have doubted his dedication to his people. Flipping over onto his other side, he peered into the licking flames of the small fire, looking for answers. Yet I cannot protect him, even though he seems to believe he does not need me to do so. Aragorn pondered Ament's orders to kill Ramlin should he touch their captive again. In that regard, I suppose I could keep Legolas from harm. He was unsure how a man could be so cruel to his brother, for though he did not have siblings of his own, he loved his Elven brothers as such, and would gladly kill any who hurt them.
Unable to evade his turbulent thoughts, the Ranger turned onto his back, staring at the small expanse of stars that were visible through the canopy of trees. How does that infernal Elf know my brothers? When sleep finally claimed him, Aragorn was sure that should he and the Elf escape this mire of dishonesty, he would learn what his brothers had done to elicit such a mirthful response from Legolas.
Elladan yawned as he stood, watching his twin put away his belongings and Tirn tend nervously to their horses. They had only stopped for a few hours, and as the sun threatened to rise, they prepared to leave. Not wanting to complain since he was now certain that Elrohir was not dragging him across Middle Earth for no good reason, Elladan bit back the urge to criticize his brother's tarrying. Come on, come on, Elrohir. As if his brother had heard him, Elrohir glanced sharply at Elladan. Oh Valar, can he read minds, too?
"I am in as much of a hurry as you, muindor," Elrohir stated, before turning back to his packing.
The elder brother jumped, Valar, he can read minds!
"No, Elrohir, I cannot read your mind, it is your vinegary expression that gave you away."
Elladan eyed his brother suspiciously. The two had never needed to speak in order to communicate, a boon to them, a bane to all else who were left in the lurch as to how or about what they were talking; however, after his twin's visions, Elladan was no longer sure how much more his brother understood him than he understood Elrohir. Tirn, Elladan noticed, had added mystification to the numerous other emotions that flitted across his worried face with each passing moment.
Poor Elf. Mayhap we could have been more polite last night in asking for his help. The elder Noldo corrected himself, Nay, we demanded his help. He is worried enough as it is without us having to add to his burden.
When the silence grew long, the sentry asked, "We continue south, then?" Tirn had spoken little since their first conversation, preferring instead to stay as far away as possible from the constantly bickering twins, it seemed.
"That's what the coin told us to do, did it not?" Elladan realized the error of his jest when Tirn only nodded, his fair face alight with crimson humiliation. "I am sorry, Tirn. I was only teasing." Elrohir shot his brother a withering look, which Elladan returned wholeheartedly, saying in an attempt to change the subject, "'Tirn', does that not mean 'watcher'?"
"It does. My family has been sentries for Mirkwood royalty since my father's father settled there." The fair immortal relaxed, appreciative of the switch in topic. "It is my duty to watch over the Prince's quarters, and I watched over the Prince himself when he was younger."
"Do you know Prince Legolas well?" Elrohir had finished his packing, and now joined the conversation and the other two Elves where they stood.
"I have known him since he was but a child. He is well loved in Eryn Galen." Staring towards the river with a faraway expression, the Wood-Elf continued, "I will not return without him." Elladan and Elrohir beamed at Tirn and then each other, their esteem for the sentry rising: Tirn remained oblivious to their attention, his mind elsewhere.
"Then it is settled. We will not return without our brother, either. And if your Prince and our brother are together, then we may well spend our immortality together looking for them," Elrohir declared with a grin.
Elladan noticed Tirn's face pale at Elrohir's words. Obviously, that idea doesn't excite him.
"Come, let us travel. The sun will rise in a couple of hours." The three Elves mounted their horses, eager to be off down the Anduin's banks.
The sun had risen high in the sky when Legolas awoke from his peaceful reverie, though little of the welcoming light made its way through the leafy boughs of the trees above him. Why have we not left yet? Extending his arms and legs as far as he could in their binds, the Elf stretched his tight muscles, careful not to pull on his aching ribs or leg too much. The band of mercenaries, sans the still sleeping Ament, sat around the embers of the fire eating bread and passing skins of water. Noticing the absence of his benefactor, Legolas worried, Where is Strider? Certainly, he would not leave me.
Much of the doubt he had of the healer's character had left him when the human had told him that his family included Lord Elrond. Legolas had heard rumors years ago that Elrond had taken in a human child, though he had given it little thought and knew nothing of the circumstances surrounding the Elven Lord's decision. His first and only encounter with the Elves from Imladris, save the messengers that carried missives back and forth between the two realms, had taught him that the grudges King Thranduil once held against the Noldor were misplaced, for truly Lord Elrond and his sons were pure of heart. He had no reservations that the Lord of Imladris had bestowed the same qualities upon his foster son, even if the human lacked the same time-borne wisdom as his Ada. Wisdom will come to him, and the human is a child, yet. But then, he did grow up with Elrohir and Elladan, so he may be forever cursed with immaturity.
With his keen hearing, the Elf picked up the sounds of soft footsteps approaching. He even walks more like an Elf than a man does. I should have noticed these things before. Strider broke through the trees next to Ament, instantly bending down over the human to check the heartbeat at his throat.
"Strider, how does he fare?" Ramlin passed the flask he held to Jalian, standing to join Strider by his ailing brother.
"He is doing well. I do not think we should move him this day. He needs more rest."
Ramlin moped, "Ament will not be happy to be delayed."
"Can you lead us onwards, then? I thought only Ament knew where we were going."
Legolas caught the hopeful gleam in the healer's eyes, and then watched it die when Ramlin shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Nay, the farmer told us, but I do not remember what he said. Only Ament knows. He did not write it down or mark it on his map, either, so that none else could find it."
"Then we will wait for him to awaken." Strider bandaged the leader's wound with fresh cloth, again adding an herbal compound to the punctures to counteract any poison remaining.
Holding his brother's curly head in his lap, Ramlin regarded the healer closely, as though he did not trust Strider not to poison his brother further. An uncomfortable fullness in his lower navel nagged at Legolas to relieve himself. Remembering the last time he had asked the mercenaries to give him leave to answer nature's call, the Elf tried to disregard his need, but ignoring it only seemed to make its presence more persistent. Valar. I will not suffer to be handled by Ramlin again.
Legolas kept his gaze on Strider, hoping to catch the man's eye. Jalian and Meika tended to the horses, Doran tended the fire, and Strider and Ramlin tended to the sleeping Ament. Legolas tended his thoughts, unable to settle his mind about his decision to stay. He did not waver in his choice to remain among the mercenaries as their captive until the whereabouts of the goblet or the goblet itself was obtained; nonetheless, the crown Prince of Eryn Galen was tormented by the consequences of his prolonged physical and mental abuse. Elves were not creatures that could long stand containment of any sort, and the beatings that both Ament and Ramlin had imparted on him and the effects of his imprisonment were beginning to wear down his natural vigor.
Mayhap the human is right, and I am going mad, Legolas chided himself.
Aside from his newfound trust in the healer, Legolas remained hesitant to place his safety entirely in the man's hands. Strider would help him, or else he would prevent Ament from realizing his plans without the healer. Of one thing, he was sure; Strider himself meant the Prince no harm, and even that much was enough for the Elf to consider the healer an ally.
The Elf waited with the patience of the immortal, and the late morning slipped into late afternoon ere Ament finally awoke.
If they do not shut up, Lords or not, I will toss them both in the Anduin. Tirn tried not to glare at the squabbling siblings, a feat that took whatever energy he was not expending in taking note of every detail of the shores along which they traveled. A large copse of birch trees that extended towards the distant Mirkwood border, but stopped short of joining the forest, was directly ahead. The eastern shore of the Anduin along this stretch was flat and grassy save for the grove before them. We should check the birches. The humans and the Prince may have passed them on their way down the river.
"Elrohir, that is a lie. Estel fell from the balcony because you could not hold onto the rope properly."
"It is not my fault that he weighs so much! Besides, I only let go because you told me that he had already reached the walkway beneath."
"My Lords," Tirn tried intervene, "We..."
"I did not tell you that." Elladan twisted in his saddle to face his twin, fixing him with a scornful look.
"My Lords," Tirn began again, "I think..."
"You did, you liar!"
"Elladan! I do not lie!"
Tirn could not take it anymore, and infuriated, could not suppress his ire any longer. "My Lords!" Both twins started, surprised by Tirn's forceful shout.
"What is it, Tirn? There is no reason to be loud," Elladan complained, turning to sit in his saddle aright again to face the sentry.
"I think I'm deaf in this ear, now," Elrohir nagged, holding his ear in mock pain.
The sentry could feel his own ears burning as he blushed fervently. If I have to listen to this any longer, I will toss myself into the Anduin. Without reply, Tirn kicked his horse into a gallop, heading for the birches. No chance I will lose them, I am confident. It was only seconds before Tirn could hear the twins galloping behind him, laughing. Nothing dampens their spirits for long. Let us hope we find the Prince and their brother. An eternity with these two would be worse than being Morgoth's footstool. With his sharp eyes, Tirn could perceive an area where the grass had been trampled so that it lay flat, with several small trails leading to it from the copse of trees. It looks as though someone has been here recently.