CHAPTER 18) REUNITED
Aragorn crawled as quickly as he could manage with hands and ankles bound, tearing the fabric and skin on his knees to shreds with utter disregard. He paused for a second in the opening of every side chamber or tunnel, allowing his eyes to survey the darkness for signs of movement before moving on.
He hastened to an opening on the right, peering into the open, black space with desperation. Suddenly his eyes closed in on a shape on the cavern floor, several paces away. He squinted and crawled forwards slightly, his eyes widening as he realized what the mass was. Shuffling closer, Aragorn caught sight of a single, defining feature, and gave a strangled cry - a long strand of silver-blond hair, glinting faintly in the darkness.
"Legolas!" he cried out joyfully. "Never before have I been so glad to see you, mellon nin!"
The Elf made no reply and moved not an inch, and Aragorn's stomach fell like a rock.
He scrambled forwards, reaching out with his bound hands, pulling the Elf onto his back –
His shirt hung in bloody tatters, his tunic all but cast off his slim shoulders. A deep gash tore through his shoulder, staining the surrounding skin with deep crimson liquid. His chest looked badly battered, with fresh, blueish bruises beginning to blossom on his skin. His cheeks were deathly pale, a thin trail of blood trickling from his forehead, his hair hanging dankly about his face.
"Legolas." Aragorn croaked, his throat so thick he could barely form the words. "Legolas!"
He gently prodded the Elf's side, cautious to avoid the numerous cuts and abrasions lacing his arms. He met no reply.
With a horrified cry, he shook the lifeless body desperately.
"Legolas, wake up, mellon nin, please." he sobbed, his vision distorted by tears.
He shifted not an inch, and Aragorn cried out as though in physical pain, the grief tearing at his chest. He felt his stomach lurch sickeningly, his eyes burning with tears, his chest so tight he could barely draw breath. He gave a low, racking sob, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
I have failed him. By my actions was he captured, and now I have failed him, the one man who had never failed me, he thought, head rushing dizzyingly.
"I am so sorry, Legolas." Aragorn whispered, his head bowed over the body of his dearest friend, his jolting, shuddering sobs racking both his frame and the one he almost cradled.
Suddenly the Elf gave a small cough and shuddered, his chest moving almost indiscernibly in short, laboured breaths. His slender fingers closed around the fabric of Aragorn's tunic, gripping it in a tight fist.
Aragorn called out his name in euphoric surprise, heart leaping.
The reply took a moment, and when it came, it was in barely more than an agonized whisper: "Aragorn? Is it you?"
"It is, mellon nin, it is." Aragorn replied, a broad smile appearing on his face that was far beyond his control. He laughed, eyes still swimming with tears. "I am here."
"How can it be?" Legolas asked, his words slow and painfully forced. A second later he amended himself. "You should not be here."
"Doing things I shouldn't seems a habit of mine, but coming here may be the one exception." Aragorn replied. "But this talk can come later – your wounds are of far more importance at the moment. I mean no disrespect when I say you look a mess. Are you in pain?"
"Pain? No, I am fine." came the poorly-executed lie, followed by a short, forceful cough.
"Legolas," Aragorn said warningly. "What did they do to you?"
His voice faltered slightly midsentence.
"They… hurt me." Legolas replied weakly, eyes shifting out of focus slightly, as though he were about to faint at the thought. "But it is of no matter. Aragorn, quickly, we must go. Before he returns."
"Legolas." Aragorn said sternly, before softening his tone. "Legolas, I need to know what we are up against. What did they do to you?"
"Gimli and I were in Fangorn, and they came from every angle. I tried to fight, but there were many, many of them." Legolas answered in his strained, quiet tone. "I ordered Gimli to take the horse, and he managed to escape-"
"Which was foolish, as it left you behind with no means to get away!" Aragorn interjected angrily.
"Better one of us be saved than none." Legolas replied smoothly, before continuing. "I fought, but a blade caught my shoulder, and I fell. When I awoke, I was here. They bound me, and then their captain came-"
"The man who looks of Gondor?" Aragorn asked sharply.
"Yes. He seems to be their leader." Legolas answered painfully. "He wanted answers. Aragorn, he wishes to plan a siege against the White Tower."
Aragorn's stomach dropped sickeningly as he thought of Arwen, asleep in their chambers, or of Faramir, discussing matters with foreign leaders.
"It is alright, my friend. I do not blame you for anything you said." Aragorn managed to say weakly.
"Do you doubt my honour so quickly?" Legolas fired up, sounding genuinely angry. "I held my tongue, and told him nothing but the fact that I would personally see to his death if he lay one hand on you or your people!"
Aragorn sat back, looking stunned, before realization dawned on him.
"So that is where the other wounds are from – the bruises, the cuts. They interrogated you." Aragorn said slowly, feeling sick at the thought. "They tortured you."
Legolas didn't reply, but shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"Were you not already injured, I would batter you myself!" Aragorn snapped. "Why, why would you not answer him?"
"To keep you safe." Legolas replied shortly. "I have always tried to do so, and I will not stop, even if a time comes to pass when you no longer wish for my companionship."
"When I no longer… What?" Aragorn muttered, frowning. "What on earth do you mean?"
"You made it clear – quite clear – that you did not value our friendship enough to grant me the care of Ithilien. I assumed that you had… Moved on, I suppose, from the bond we once held." Legolas explained, measuring his words cautiously. "We Elves may endure unchanging on through the centuries, but I am aware that humans are more… temperamental. More subject to shifts of opinion. I do not hold you accountable for the ways of your people, of course, but-"
"Stop." Aragorn interrupted blunty. "Allow me to confirm this fact: you think that my allegiance, nay, my friendship, with you, has faded?"
Legolas' eyes shifted sadly. "Yes, I suppose that best summarizes it."
"I… I am horrified to think that my actions gave this impression." Aragorn said, shaking his head in confusion. "I knew you were disappointed, of course, but I had not realized the depth of hurt I had inflicted."
"It is no matter, really." Legolas dismissed quickly.
"It is, though, mellon nin." Aragorn disagreed. "To deny you was foolish, extremely foolish-"
"You were merely looking after your own people, Aragorn. I understand – truly, I do." Legolas said tiredly.
"Do you wish to know why I chose to deny your claim?" Aragorn asked softly. "Because I believed, in my heart, that our bond was closer than to be shaken by any such matters. I deemed it such that we could disagree on things of even such magnitude, and still be as brothers. I thought our friendship above any quarrels of race or land or war. I hoped – nay, assumed – that you thought the same. I beg for you to forgive me."
His eyes searched Legolas' face pleadingly, and the Elf smiled tearily.
"You are forgiven, Aragorn, always and completely forgiven." he said warmly. "Of course I feel the same – or, rather, should have. It seems I have lapsed in judgement to think-"
"Do not dare apologize to me. It is I who has done wrong." Aragorn said shortly. "Now, let us flee this place whilst we are able."
"Are you bound also?" Legolas asked in concern.
"Aye, I am; my bonds are tight, but these rocks are jagged enough to cut them, I think." Aragorn said quickly, beginning to rub the rope against the sharp cave floor.
Several tense, uncomfortable minutes passed, until finally the last few threads severed through and slipped off his wrists. Aragorn hastened to untie his ankles, before attending to Legolas' bonds. As the ropes came away from the Elf's wrists, the raw, bloodied skin underneath was revealed, and Aragorn fought to repress a hiss at the thought of the desperation that must have led to such rash actions as tearing at one's own wrists for means of escape. Legolas, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the pain, or else so accustomed to it that it no longer bothered him.
"Aragorn, you go on. I will catch up in a moment." he requested.
'Absolutely not." Aragorn replied immediately. "If we split up, we'll never find each other in this darkness."
"You have to leave me here and escape by yourself." Legolas pleaded. "Aragorn, I do not know if I can walk. I will only slow you down."
"You think I came all this way to simply leave you behind? We leave this place together, or not at all." Aragorn stated firmly, carefully reaching under the Elf's arms and pulling him to his feet. Legolas' face was twisted with the effort of trying to keep his legs from giving out beneath him, but even so, most of his weight was held by Aragorn. Legolas took a shaky step forwards, poorly hiding a pained flinch as he shifted his weight in his stride. Aragorn made a soft, reassuring noise, patiently allowing the Elf to regain his balance and composure before starting off again.
In this manner they made their way through the darkness and up the main passageway, taking a few steps at a time, and then stopping whilst Legolas caught his breath. Injuries aside, he seemed, in general, weakened. He had looked exhausted before they had even begun to walk, and Aragorn doubted he would have been able to sleep through the pain of his wounds. Leaning on him for support, Aragorn couldn't help but notice that the Elf's usually slender frame seemed even more so – it occurred to him that Legolas probably hadn't eaten in several days. The fact that he was both sleep-deprived and famished, combined with the amount of blood he had lost, made Aragorn marvel that he could even remain conscious.
"Are you fine to go on, Legolas?" Aragorn asked gently, brow furrowed in concern as the Elf drew in forced, laboured breaths. He replied with a weak smile and a nod, and took a shaky but definite step.
In the darkness, it was impossible to calculate the time – they could have been walking for just a few minutes or several hours, Aragorn had no clue – but eventually the weakest strands of torchlight and the almost indiscernible murmur of conversation told Aragorn that he was nearing the main chamber.
Aragorn stopped and gently lowered Legolas to the ground. Too weak to protest physically, he voiced his objections in dull, muted cries.
"Ssh, quiet! There are men nearby." Aragorn explained in a whisper. "I will take care of them, and then return to get you."
"I want to fight." Legolas argued stubbornly.
"I mean you no offence, but it would do more harm than good for you to fight alongside me." Aragorn stated bluntly. "I would be so busy ensuring you were alright that I'd easily be struck down in my distraction. No, you stay here."
Legolas took the news poorly, his eyes falling to rest downcast, and, if Aragorn's eyes did not deceive him, a slight blush appearing on the fair skin of his cheeks. Aragorn knew that he burnt with guilt, and likely shame, at having to stay behind – having lived with the Elves for much of his youth, he knew that they were proud and noble fighters, and none more so than Legolas.
"There is no dishonour in staying behind." Aragorn said soothingly. "Perceive yourself rather as… a second line of defence. If you hear me being bludgeoned to death, by all means, I encourage you to come to my aid!"
The corners of Legolas' mouth twitched into a very slight smile, but his eyes were full of concern.
"Have caution, Aragorn." he begged in the way of farewell.
"Don't I always?" he replied in a whisper, hurrying off towards the light with silent footsteps.