Tell me what it's like to be with you
Remind me of the things we use to do
And tell me that this time will never end
Tell me what it's like, tell me again.
Every time you stay
It never feels quite the same
And every time you go
It hurts a way you'll never know
-Goldfinger
Legolas looked around carefully, the delay chafing at him. He had had no opportunity to get close to Aragorn yesterday, but today he was guarding the herds in the north pasture, which happened to be the same place that the ranger was working. He wanted to go speak to his friend *right now*, but he did not wish to draw attention to the ranger or himself while the other overseers were around, so he kept to his own tasks and whittled distractedly at the new arrows he was fashioning. He had more than enough really, but the elf did not take kindly to sitting idly by, he needed to be doing something.
Finally the time came when the overseers were away in another part of the field and the slaves were more or less all occupied with their own tasks. Aragorn finished forking the last bales of dried grass off the back of the cart for the Oliphaunts in this herd to feed on and hopped down off the lowered gate of the wagon. Sircyn drove the cart away for another load while Aragorn retrieved two large buckets of ground-up feed and began walking back towards the feeding area with it.
Grabbing his chance, Legolas caught up with Aragorn and quickly pulled him behind the grain bins, where it would not be so easy to be seen. "Aragorn, quick, back here."
The young ranger seemed totally surprised and flinched at the unexpected move, half expecting to be struck for something as he stumbled around to see who had dragged him back here, nearly dropping the buckets.
"You're brown as a nut my friend!" Legolas smiled at the ranger's obvious surprise. A faint white scar stood out against the tanned skin on the human's temple and the prince resisted the urge to feel angry at whatever had happened to his friend; he had found him, that's what mattered. "I barely recognized you at first. But come, I think I know how we can get you out of here-"
Aragorn blinked several times and pulled back. He recognized the tall, golden haired man as the new overseer his master had employed, a sharpshooter, or so the other slaves said, but he didn't understand what the man wanted with him. For a moment, and a moment only, something else about the fair being in front of him tugged at his mind, but the residue of the memory struck oddly and he felt the beginnings of a headache grip him almost immediately. Realizing with a start that he was staring at the other man, Aragorn dropped his gaze quickly. "Can I do something for you sir?" he asked quietly.
It was Legolas' turn to blink. When Aragorn had not seemed to react to his presence the other day, Legolas had assumed that it was because of all the guards present... but he didn't understand it now.
"Aragorn..." Legolas wasn't sure what to say. 'It's me?' Wasn't that obvious? What was wrong?
"Adrar," Aragorn corrected quietly, thinking the overseer had his name wrong.
"What?" Legolas was really confused now.
"Adrar, that's my name... but you may call me Aragorn if you wish," the human added quickly, not wishing to make the other man upset.
The elf prince was at a complete loss. "Estel... don't you know me?" he took his friend by the shoulders, trying to get Aragorn to meet his eyes, disbelief running through him and turning his blood inexplicably cold. If his eyes did not tell him that this was his friend, he would think he indeed made some kind of mistake... but there was no mistake, save, it seemed, in the Dùnadan's mind. Legolas was reminded horribly of the time when the bounty hunter Dyryn had overdosed his friend on a nasty drug called Belithral. Aragorn hadn't known him at first then either... but this was different. Aragorn was not visibly injured, not in pain or under the influence of anything. He simply did not seem to have a clue what the elf was talking about.
"I – you – " Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. His headache was getting worse and he wanted the overseer to let him go back to work before he got into trouble. The other guards would beat him if they caught him idling and not doing his job. "Yes, I saw you yesterday, you work for my master. Is that all sir?" he backed away a little. He hated it when the guards played this game with him, acting like he should know things he didn't. It frustrated him. He hated it.
Legolas felt a knife pass through his heart. Aragorn truly didn't remember him! But how was that possible? He resisted the urge to shake the young human. "Estel what has happened to you?" he half implored, half demanded in shock, reaching out to touch the scar on his friend's temple as fear grew inside him. "It's me, Legolas!"
"Please, I don't know what you're talking about..." Aragorn shook his head. "I'm not Eztal or Aragorn or whoever you think I am... please don't make fun of me. I need to return to work." In the beginning, he would have been curious at someone who claimed to know him, but the guard's constant teasing had hardened him to it by now, besides, the longer he was around this man, the worse the pain in his head was becoming. He was nearly dizzy with it now and didn't understand what kind of game the overseer was playing with him, or how he was making him hurt like this. It wouldn't be the first time the guards had taunted him over his inability to remember his past, acting like there were things he should remember and didn't. The overseers could be very cruel sometimes.
"Yes you are!" Legolas protested, a sick, sinking feeling making him almost ill. "You are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, you are Strider, Ranger of the North, you are Estel, adopted son of Lord Elrond, you are my friend!"
Aragorn gave a small cry and stumbled backward, dropping his buckets as his hands flew to his head and he fell to his knees. Bright flashes of pain pounded between his temples. The words hurt, they hurt... he didn't understand why this was being done to him.
"Strider!" Legolas knelt quickly by his friend's side, laying his hand gently on the young man's back. The human was in pain, but he didn't know why.
"Please..." Aragorn pulled away, turning hurting, frightened eyes up at the elf. He couldn't distinguish the fact that it was his own mind, and not the other being, that was causing him this pain. "Please I haven't done anything to you, I work hard, I don't make trouble, don't do this to me... I-I haven't..."
"Is there a problem sir?" a respectful, yet obviously concerned voice interrupted them and Legolas jerked, looking up quickly to see a tall, dark skinned man standing close by, watching them with guarded, but worried eyes.
Legolas rose quickly and the older slave moved closer to Aragorn, dropping his hand down to touch the ranger's hair gently as he looked at the spilled buckets and the young man's trembling shoulders.
Cabed kept his eyes low and his tone neutral despite how his heart hurt at seeing Adrar like this. He knew the guards tormented the young man sometimes, but he hated to see it happen.
"Adrar's still new sir, if you need something, I can help you." Actually Aragorn had been there for quite a long time already, but Cabed counted on the new overseer not knowing that.
Legolas shook his head slightly, still in shock. "No, no, I..." he wasn't even sure what to say.
Cabed tensed slightly, mistaking the elf's meaning. Unobtrusively, he moved so he was standing protectively in front of Aragorn, who was still kneeling on the ground, holding his head and rocking back and forth. "Please you sir, Adrar's been hurt, some things aren't all the way there in his mind," the elder slave touched his fingers to the side of his forehead to convey what he meant. "He's trying very hard sir, please understand. If there's a problem I'll fix it. I'll get this mess cleaned up and we won't lose no time. Please don't get him in no trouble, he's a good worker, I apologize if he made you upset, I promise it will not happen again."
Legolas just shook his head numbly. The other man thought he needed to protect Aragorn from him. From HIM. The elf's mind was reeling, but he managed to shake his head again. "No, he did nothing wrong. I don't wish him any trouble..."
"Then we'll be back to work right away," Cabed helped Aragorn quickly to his feet and led the young man away swiftly. "Thank you sir."
Cabed walked next to Aragorn, directing him over to a small bench that sat in the sparse shade of a scrub brush tree. The older slave motioned Sircyn to him and quietly told his son of the spilled feed buckets. Without another word the young slave nodded, and walked around to the back of the bins, followed by two others who had seen the need and gone to aid him. Kneeling in front of the younger man, the older Haradrim watched Adrar carefully as the ranger closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Slowly the pain in his head receded and he looked up into the worried eyes of his elder.
The warm touch of the man's large hand on his knee settled Aragorn's fears and he smiled softly at the Haradrim. "Thank you Cabed."
"Adrar, what happened back there? Did he hurt you?"
Aragorn shook his head, his eyes huge with confusion, "I don't know Cabed. I don't know." He glanced behind him to the tall grain bins, his voice low as he recounted what had occurred, "The master's new sharpshooter dragged me behind the bins. He said he knew how to escape and he spoke like he knew me but..."
The ranger pressed his eyes tightly closed as the image of the fair-haired being reclining beside a clear blue lake flashed through his mind; the person was smiling and speaking to him as he laughed. Aragorn grimaced as a sharp spike of pain cut through his mind, renewing the ache that had started to go away.
"Slowly Adrar. Why were you on the ground, you were in pain?" Cabed did not like the idea that the guard had been speaking of such things to the young northerner. It was very likely that he was trying to set Aragorn up to get him in trouble. Attempting escape was a severe crime; it could get Adrar killed.
The young slave shook his head fiercely; trying to dispel the fragmented recollection as the shards of his memory painfully pierced through his consciousness. "I see his face in my mind, but I don't remember him. It is like when I sleep. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see so many faces... but I don't know who they are. I don't know if they are just phantoms that my mind creates, or if they have some substance somewhere. When I try to remember it hurts. It hurts badly and it feels like my mind is on fire." Aragorn glanced up into the dark eyes. "I'm sorry Cabed."
The dark skinned slave gently ran his fingers down the side of Adrar's face, tracing the welted scar that ran the length of his temple. The old wound was healed and the scar was fading slowly but the deeper injury to the young man's mind for whatever reason was not yet mended. Perhaps it never would be.
"Stay away from him Adrar, he will get you in trouble. But do not worry young one, in time your memory will return, if that is what you are experiencing and he is not merely telling you lies, like the others, which is what I suspect."
"And if it does not?" Aragorn questioned, his voice a mere whisper. "If my memory does not return, ever?"
"I've told you before. If it does not you have nothing to worry about, you have a family right here." Cabed thumped his own chest with his fist and smiled at the younger man. Sircyn rounded the grain bins and walked towards his father and his adopted brother.
"Now, are you able to finish the work?" Cabed stood to his feet as his son gained his side and passed him one of the buckets, once again full of feed.
Aragorn smiled at the two and nodded, taking the bucket from his elder. Even now the pain had receded and the memories had submerged once more into the darkness of his past recollection where they were no longer so sharp and intrusive. He ignored the slight ache that tinged his heart and cheerfully followed his family out towards the fields as Sircyn called the oliphaunts back to feed.
Legolas moved silently in the gathering dusk, not wishing to alert either the people in the tent or any of Rhuddryn's other guards and employees of his presence. In the shadow of the falling darkness, the Simbani clan tent glowed faintly from the light of the fire within, the cheery yellow radiance wavering and flickering, casting vague shadows of the occupants upon the tent walls as they moved around the small enclosure. A thin tendril of smoke rose from the vent in the roof. Inside, the pleasant, rolling buzz of comfortable conversation rose and fell, dotted by occasional laughter.
The elf's sharp ears heard Aragorn's voice raised in an amused chuckle over something that had been said or done and a woman's voice playfully scolding either the ranger, or the person who had spoken to him. Legolas settled down with his back against a tree about fifteen yards away from the tent, carefully hidden in the dense foliage so that he could not be seen. Folding his arms across the top of his knees as he drew his legs up to his chest, he watched the small, glowing tent silently.
He was glad that these people had adopted Aragorn; they obviously looked out for him and protected him as one of their own, which may have been the only reason the ranger had survived this long. He was glad that the young human was not alone, that he had people he could laugh with... The elf closed his eyes tightly for a moment as their encounter earlier in the day played back through his mind. His breath hitched in his throat for a moment before he caught himself and forced his body to calm. He was glad, but... he missed his friend. Missed him terribly.
He had gone through so much to find the young human and now...
The fear in Aragorn's eyes when he looked at him this morning would not leave his mind and it hurt the elf. After everything they had been through and all they had been to each other, his friend did not know him. Worse, Aragorn believed that he was a slave and that that condition was somehow natural. The prince saw none of the fiery resistance he would have expected from the man he had once known. Aragorn's submission and acceptance of the situation pained Legolas deeply, as did the unusual amount of fear he had seen behind his friend's eyes.
"What did they do to you Estel?" Legolas' whispered breath fogged on the normally hot air. As soon as the sun set the temperature dropped dramatically, creating nights that could potentially become quite chilly. "And how can I get you back?"
There was no answer but silence of course and Legolas let his chin drop down to rest on his arms. Aragorn could not seem to stand being around him, his very presence appeared to distress the ranger, so if this was as close as the elf could get for the moment, then here he would stay, and watch over his friend from a distance.
As much as he longed to simply grab his friend and drag him out of here, take him back to Rivendell maybe and see what Lord Elrond could do for him... he knew that was impossible. Rivendell was many long months of travel away from here. The way things stood now, Aragorn would never go with him willingly and he feared the emotional trauma he would cause by attempting to force the young human to do anything, especially since remembering seemed to physically hurt Aragorn. So Legolas would be patient and he would wait. Wait for whatever wounds still burned in the human's mind to heal. He felt certain that Aragorn had not truly lost his past, but it was buried deep and the prince did not know what it would take to bring it back. Yet that didn't matter... someday it would come back and he would be here when it did, he would wait; however long it took. If it took years, he would wait years.
Legolas buried his face against his sleeves. He wouldn't give up on his friend, ever. Nor would he betray the weighty trust placed in his hands by Elladan and Elrohir. He would someday bring their brother back to them, or he would spend the rest of his life trying.
The occupants of the tent were settling down for sleep and a soft, melodious sound made Legolas look up again. Some of the slaves were singing, soft and low. It was a comforting, peaceful sound and it comforted the prince to think that somewhere in there Aragorn was falling asleep to the gentle tones of its rhythm.
"Sleep well Estel..." the elf murmured softly in the darkness. "Sleep well my friend. I miss you."
Tell me what it's like to be with you,
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will never end
Tell me what it's like, tell me again.
Everything I fear
Shows itself every time you're here.
And everything I know
Leaves with you every time that you go...
-Goldfinger
Aragorn filled the watering buckets from the deep well and headed back out to the fields. It was nearing midday and Cabed had asked him to fetch them all something to drink.
"What you got there Adrar?" The sound of the guards taunting voice stopped the ranger in his tracks.
Fear filled his heart as he looked to the ground and answered softly, "I was sent to bring water back to the others. It is nearly mid-day." He silently cursed his carelessness at being caught alone and out of sight like this.
"That so?"
Aragorn glanced up quickly as Talft walked towards him, joining Lur who stood towering over the ranger. The tall, dark guard smirked as he saw the slight glance. He stepped nearer the cowering slave and gave the man a good shove. They harassed all the slaves, but the young northerner was their favorite to pick on. There was something uniquely vulnerable about him and they liked to see his fear of them. They had given him more than enough reason to have that fear.
"Please. I am on my way back out." Aragorn replied softly, moving around the Haradrim and walking slowly away from them, hoping that taunting was all they had in mind.
"Did I say you could leave?" Lur called out, his voice low and dangerous.
Aragorn swallowed hard and stopped. He closed his eyes, as he fought back the apprehension that pounded in his heart. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He did his job; he was a good worker. He flinched involuntarily as he heard the quiet snap of a whip being shaken out.
"Hey Adrar," Talft walked up behind the slave and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder, "You don't have to be in such a rush."
He couldn't handle it any longer, the taunting, the abuse. Without thinking, Aragorn shrugged out from underneath Talft's hand and proceeded to walk away. If he could get far enough away from the immediate grounds and out onto the field someone else would be able to see them. The guards weren't *supposed* to be cruel to the slaves, but it happened anyway. He looked up, desperately searching for any sight of Cabed or Sircyn, but the slaves had followed the oliphaunts to the far side of the pastures.
The stinging bite of the whip wrapped around his ankle, cutting through the light cotton legging he wore. He cried out as the leather thong tightened and jerked backwards, pulling his foot out from under him and dropping him roughly to the ground. The buckets tipped and spilt their contents out, the water quickly soaked into the hard packed dirt. Aragorn winced. Why did everyone seem intent on making him drop whatever he was carrying? Why couldn't they just leave him alone?!
Legolas stood in the shade of one the small brush-trees that dotted the plains. He leaned back against the skinny trunk, bracing himself with one foot on the rough wood. His keen eyes turned to the rolling hills that backed the oliphaunt pens. The morning had been uneventful and he was only halfheartedly watching for the wild taergs that plagued the compound, his mind wandering back to the previous day when the sound of a familiar cry assaulted his ears.
Pushing off from his resting-place he whirled back towards the slave quarters, his sharp eyes seeking out the source of the distress. "Aragorn?" He spotted Talft and Lur working over a slave that lay cringing on the ground. The whistle of Talft's whip reached the sharp elven ears and without thinking Legolas ran towards his friend, shouting at the other guards.
Neither of the Haradrim heard the elf's approach over the sounds of their own laughter and taunting. The whip cut the back of Aragorn's shirt, drawing blood.
"Come on Adrar. Tell us where you're from! You don't even have half a brain. Why, the master keeps you around only for our entertainment." The tall guard brought the lash down hard intending to strike the young ranger again, but the lash never reached its mark.
Legolas stepped over the prone body of his friend and raised his forearm up, catching the whip on the leather vambrace he wore. The thong wrapped quickly around the hard leather and the elf grasped the end of it jerking the weapon out Talft's hand.
"Leave him alone!" Legolas growled at the two men, backing them down slightly as he advanced on them.
"Hey, you have no authority over us!" Lur stepped towards the elf but quickly moved back as the prince glared at him, coiling the whip up in his hands and throwing into it the other guard's face.
"And you have no reason to beat this one." Legolas continued to speak as he backed the two away from Aragorn, "How do you think your employer would like to hear that you slowed down the slaves today? Do you think that would please him at all? Now be off with you. Surely there is something else you can be doing besides tormenting the workers." His tone was low and dangerous and he didn't back down when Talft pointed the handle of the whip menacingly at the elf.
When they finally turned and left Legolas quickly walked back to Aragorn's side. The young human was trying to sit up, but his back was bleeding and the cut to his ankle was painful. The elf gently placed his hand between the man's shoulder blades and softly spoke to the ranger.
"Do not rise just yet. Lie still and let me have a look at you."
At the sound of the words Aragorn gasped and turned towards Legolas, looking over his shoulder at the elf. But he did not see the sharpshooters face, he saw the face of an elf, an elf who was bending over him, his hair falling down about his shoulders, exposing his pointed ears and they were in a cave... a tunnel and the elf was speaking to him much the same way. The vision shifted so rapidly that the human cringed slightly, the same elf jumped in front of him as a swarm of black creatures rushed them, his own hand was trapped and he heard his voice calling out a name.
"Legolas!"
"Strider! You remember?" The elf leaned down close to the human, "Strider?"
The pictures faded as quickly as they had come and Aragorn found himself staring at his master's new employee once more. The pounding in his head grew intolerable as he tried to hold onto the images that flashed through his mind.
"Aragorn?" Legolas whispered as he watched the human's pained reaction to his nearness.
"It hurts." He touched his palms to the sides of his head, trying to push the pain of remembering away, "Make it stop." Images of other elves mirrored themselves on his tightly closed eyelids and a cascade of emotions tore at his heart.
"What!? Strider you must tell me what's wrong." The elf was at a loss. His very presence seemed to pain the young man. Aragorn's breath was coming in ragged gasps and he cried out through gritted teeth before collapsing into unconsciousness.
"No. NO!" Legolas felt for the human's pulse it was there, strong and steady. He must have simply passed out. Quickly gathering the ranger in his arms the elf picked him up and walked back towards the sleeping tent that he had stood guard over last night.
He shouldered his way through the opening and laid the ranger gently down on the nearest blanket, turning him onto his stomach so he would not further aggravate his wounds. The odd sensation of being watched alerted the elf to the presence of another in the room and he glanced up quickly. A small child sat perfectly still in the far corner, watching them quietly. It was obvious by the crudely carved oliphaunt shaped toys that he held that he had been playing inside the safety of the tent.
Huge dark eyes watched the elf fearfully.
"Go get your father quickly." He instructed the boy.
The child hesitated for only seconds, his gaze falling to Aragorn before fleeing from the tent.
Legolas wasted no time. He knew he had mere minutes before Aragorn's adopted family returned, and they would not react well to his presence here. Quickly he ripped a strip from his outer tunic and pouring water from his own flask tended the deep cuts on Aragorn's ankle and his back, wrapping them in the soft, light cloth. He kneeled next to the man, his hand gently touching the ranger's head.
"Estel wake up." He spoke in elvish quietly, "Come back my friend."
The world was hazing and his head still rang as the ranger fought the darkness that hedged his sight. He tried to turn towards the sound of the voice but was stopped by the elf as Legolas carefully pressed the human's head back down onto the blanket beneath him, facing away from the prince.
"No, don't look at me just yet. It seems to hurt you and I wish you no more pain, you have had enough." The elf's voice broke and the human found it odd that the guard was upset. They usually never cared what the slaves were feeling, most didn't seem to think they had feelings at all.
"Who are you, really?" Aragorn questioned. The marksmen did not act at all like any of the other guards. He was very strange. He wondered if maybe, just maybe he had known this person before... A sharp stab of pain that threatened to put him back out again made Aragorn pull back from that train of thought.
"Oh Strider." Legolas shut his eyes tightly closed, his hand gently touching the human's head once more. "I hope you can remember."
"I want to." The human whispered softly.
"Then that is enough for now." Legolas glanced at the tent opening; "Your family is coming. Here, I have something for you, take it and maybe it will help you remember." The elf leaned over the human and pressed a tiny circle of cold metal into the man's palm. Legolas closed the ranger's hand into a fist, holding it there with his own for a moment. "I'll bring you something later for the pain, after it is dark. I will leave it near the door. Let your elder know."
When Aragorn finally turned over, the elf was gone. He opened his hand and stared at the silver ring that sat there, a beautiful green jewel mounted between two serpents. The fair face of a dark haired man flashed in his mind and he quickly tightened his hand back around the ring as the memory shot a small spike of pain through his memory. The sharpshooter was right, whoever he was, the ring would help him to remember, but he wasn't sure he could deal with the anguish of the memories and the ache in his body from the beating at the same time. As he relaxed back onto the floor he was surprised to find that the deepest pain that assaulted him was the ache that had started beating in his heart when the elf had tended him out on the grounds. Something was missing in his life and his heart knew what it was, he just couldn't understand yet what it was saying.
The tent flap was jerked open and Cabed stumbled into the darkened interior followed by Sircyn.
"He was right there! I saw him!" Kidrin was pointing to where Aragorn lay, "It was the new one, the other adrar."
"All right, be still Kidrin." Cabed knelt down next to Aragorn. The young ranger painfully eased up into a sitting position, with the help of Sircyn.
"He did that to our Adrar!" Kidrin was pointing at Aragorn.
The young man smiled at the child and shook his head slowly, "No, the other adrar did not do this to me, he does not carry a whip." Aragorn glanced at Cabed; "It was Talft and Lur. I was clumsy and got caught by them when I was returning with the water. The sharpshooter stopped them and brought me here." The ranger hissed slightly with the renewed pain to his ankle, gently touching the bandage that the elf had placed there temporarily. "He said he would return tonight with something for the pain."
Cabed glanced at Sircyn who stood once more in the entryway keeping watch, a dark looked marred the young Haradrim's face as he turned back to watch Adrar. He didn't trust the masters or the overseers and did not like the attention that the northern sharpshooter was paying to his friend. It could be dangerous. "How did he know this was your tent?"
Aragorn glanced at his friend and shook his head, "I do not know. Perhaps he watched as we returned from the fields."
"You did not bring him here?" Cabed questioned as he rechecked the younger man's wounds.
The ranger glanced down to the ground, his eyes lighting on his closed fist, fearful of opening it up, "No." He whispered, "He – I... I was unconscious."
"Adrar!" Sircyn stepped in and quickly knelt by the fair skinned slave, looking him over carefully, "What did he do to you?"
"Nothing." The questions were wearing on him. The answers were so far out of reach that he grew tired of grasping for them and the pain of the surfacing memories wore him out.
"You must tell us." Cabed softly touched the slave's arm, fearing the worst. The guards could be very cruel and Tyndel had been exhibiting far too much interest in Adrar for their comfort.
"Cabed, I swear he did not hurt me. Not intentionally anyway. His voice and the things that he spoke, they reminded me of..." Aragorn stopped speaking and looked back down at his tightly clenched fist.
The elder followed his gaze and gently pried the ranger's fingers open. Aragorn flinched and closed his eyes, turning away from the sight of the ring, but not before the face of another dark haired being flashed in his mind... or was it two? But no, they both had the same face... "What have you there Estel?" The being questioned as they both looked down at the ring. He swallowed hard against the nausea that threatened him and breathed deeply, calming the stirring in his heart. He realized that Cabed was speaking to him and he had not heard what the elder had said.
"I'm sorry what did you say?" He asked the other to repeat the question.
"Do you know what this is?" Cabed held the ring out to the ranger.
Aragorn snatched it quickly back from the elder and tightened his grip about it. It felt familiar in his hand but...he shook his head slowly. "I can see pieces of memories in my mind. But it hurts to remember, it hurts horribly, and that was why I passed out." The ranger sighed deeply and finally met the older man's gaze, "That is the truth, I swear it to you."
The old Haradrim nodded his head, turning to look at his eldest son. "We must get back to the fields or we will be missed. We will talk more about this tonight."
Aragorn attempted to rise and follow them out but Cabed pressed him back down. "You stay here the remainder of the day. Tomorrow you will have to go but today you will stay off that foot, I cannot risk you near the oliphaunts with an open wound like that. It will become infected too easily."
"They'll notice."
"They'll not notice if it is as you have said. Lur and Talft are cruel but they are also cowards. They will not be near our fields again this day. Stay my son and rest."
Aragorn sank back down to the ground and dropped his gaze guiltily. It seemed he was always causing trouble lately.
"It will be well Adrar, you will see." Cabed stopped at the threshold and turned back towards the young slave.
With a small smiled Aragorn nodded his head, he hoped it would be. Gently fingering the ring, he tried it on several fingers on his right hand. It fit a couple of them but did not feel right. He tested the silver circle on the forefinger of his left hand. It slid easily over his knuckle and settled into place as though it had naturally fit there always. Turning his hand so that he could see the deep green jewel set in the middle of it, he gazed at the stone for a long moment. Was it really his? Before he realized what he was doing Aragorn found himself thinking about it and trying to recall exactly when and why he would have acquired such a piece of jewelry, surely slaves were never given treasures such as this.
Memories surfaced and assaulted his senses momentarily throwing him off. He heard a deep melodious voice speaking as if to him, "It is called the Ring of Barahir, for it was a gift to Barahir and his descendants in reward for the saving of Finrod Felagund's life, many, many years before your father's father was born." And saw himself hand the ring back to a person who looked just like Rhuddryn's sharpshooter. The young faced northerner smiled warmly at him...
Aragorn gasped as much from the shock of the clear memories as from the pain it lanced through his temples. Bright sparks exploded on the edges of his vision as the memory was ripped from him by the ache in his head. He lowered his head into his hands, the cool metal of the ring touching gently against his throbbing temple. Excitement and fear warred in him. The sharpshooter was right. The ring was helping him to remember, but did he really want to know?
He had a life. He was Adrar, Master Seobryn's personal slave. He was a member of the Simbani clan and he helped to shepherd the oliphaunts on Master Rhuddryn's land. He had a family now, he wasn't just a slave, he belonged and the work was good. The people he saw in his fragmented memories did not look him; they couldn't be family members. He laughed softly at himself at the absurd thought, realizing he didn't look like he was related to Cabed or Sircyn any more than the faces in his recollections...except maybe the older wise-eyed man with the long brown hair. But what if who he had been before was not someone he wanted to be? What if this was better?
What if it was not?
A tiny voice in the back of his mind kept questioning quietly. It all just felt wrong, how could it be right?
With a deep sigh, Aragorn removed the ring from his finger and pulled his sleeping pallet up from the floor, exposing the dirt ground beneath it. It would never do to have Talft or Lur catch him with the ring. They would only insist that he had stolen it and he would be punished and the ring taken from him. Quickly and quietly he dug a shallow hole in the dry ground and placed the ring into it, covering it with the displaced dirt. He would need a way to be able to find the ring later if he wished, something to remind him where he had hidden it. Sometimes their pallets were moved around as people came and went and it would do no good to hide the token only to be able to never retrieve it. He spied the small collection of rocks that Kidrin had been saving and selected a smooth oval stone. Pressing the rock into the ground above the place where he had buried the ring he laid his pallet back on top of it and eased down on his back.
He could feel the small rock jutting slightly out of the ground as it touched his spine near the base of his neck and he smiled softly to himself. Wondering what type of person he had truly been, before he fell into a light sleep.
The sun was midway through its circle in the sky. Hot, light breezes swept the low pasturelands, barely stirring the sturdy long wisps of grass that grew thickly over the low undulating hills, lining the fields where the oliphaunts walked idly back from their watering hole.
Bright inquisitive eyes watched their slow progress. Short pointed ears perked up, swiveling to catch the edges of conversations and the hyper-sensitive olfactory senses of the animal that crawled, hidden, in the long grasses smelled what it had been looking for – what it had been denied for so long.
The large creature was incredibly quiet for its great mass and incredibly intelligent. A fierce evilness clung to it. It had escaped from the compound just south of the mûmaskil' favorite waterhole. It had waited until the creature that walked on two legs had opened its cage. It had waited and pretended to be sleeping. What they fed it, it was tired of, but the creature that brought its food had tasted good. That is before the others stopped him. But they hadn't stopped him quickly enough, he had gotten a taste of human blood and he was craving more. Inbred in his twisted being was an insatiable desire for manflesh. He hated them. They tormented him. They never left him alone. Always poking, prodding. Everything they touched him with hurt. He hated them; it was good to be out. The grass brushed gently underneath his belly and the light winds fingered through the hair that covered his body. Yes it agreed with itself, this was good. It would never go back.
The animal looked nothing like the native taergs that populated the low lands. It was an entirely new creature and it was never intended that it should escape. This beast was the only successful creation of the crossbreeding between the wargs and the taergs that Seobryn had produced. The fact that it had escaped enraged him and he quickly sent his men out to recapture the animal. If large cat hadn't killed its incompetent handler, Seobryn would have. He kicked the lock on the now empty cage and stalked after his men that had gone in search of the escapee. In all likelihood he feared they would never be able to recapture the creature. It had been bred to be silent, quick, powerful and intelligent, a killer...and unfortunately they had succeeded. If he could not take the creature back to Saruman as living proof that the crossbreeding was successful he was not sure that the white wizard would allow him to leave alive.
Legolas slowly walked the perimeter of the oliphaunt field, matching his gait to that of the Olybryn as they escorted the herds home for the evening. The routine had become very familiar by now as the days had slowly worn away into weeks and months. Legolas couldn't help watching the young northerner in the midst of the Haradrim. He listened intently to their conversations, his sharp hearing hoping to catch some sense that the ranger's memory was returning. He was pleased to see that Aragorn had joined the slaves, even though he limped slightly from the healing wound that Talft had dealt him the previous day.
Once or twice, Aragorn's eyes even sought the elf out, although if he found that Legolas was looking at him he would quickly look away. It was a start anyway, and better than being totally avoided by his friend as had been going on for the past several fortnights since Legolas had taken this job.
Although the elf was concentrating on his friend, his awareness of their surroundings had not diminished and he stopped and turned quickly when he sensed something watching him.
Standing perfectly still the elf's sharp eyes tracked the low hills. He listened to the stillness that surrounded him, only the sounds of the grasses weaving back and forth in response to the light breeze touched his hearing. But he was sure there was something out there.
A patch of grass moved oddly to his right and he focused on it, slowly bringing his bow up and notching an arrow against the taught string.
The altered taerg watched the elf intently. This being smelled wrong. It did not smell like the ones he was used to and something about it bothered the predator...even in the bright sunlight, the evil creature could see the light that encompassed Legolas and it hissed softly as it watched him.
The soft growling and hissing was not lost on the elf and he began to walk towards the small hillock where he had seen the odd movements. He made sure to keep himself between the Olybryn and whatever it was that was stalking them.
Cabed glanced up as Legolas walked slowly back on the trail they were using. He watched as the sharpshooter sighted in on something he could not see. Fearing that the taergs had returned he quietly began moving among his people, hurrying them towards the safety of the main house and away from what hunted them.
Aragorn turned and watched as the sharpshooter strung his bow and walked away from them. Something inside of him wanted to run after his master's employee and give his aide. He faltered in his steps, considering the odd emotions he was feeling until Sircyn grabbed his arm and steered him back onto the path and away from the danger.
"I should..." The words died on Aragorn's lips as he glanced at Sircyn.
"You should stay with the herd if you wish to keep your head." Sircyn finished his sentence for him, smiling. He nodded his head back towards where the elf stood, "He was hired to do that, you were not."
"Yes, you're right." But still... Aragorn glanced back watching the lone figure, it felt wrong.
The two-legged creature was blocking its goal. The taerg that was no longer a taerg watched in agitation as the others walked away with the large gray animals. He was hungry, he hadn't eaten. He didn't want this one that stood in front of him, this one was wrong; it glowed. He wanted the others; they were easy to kill. The ones with the long sticks that had fired the biting things, they had not been as easy to kill and this one that blocked him held a long stick as well.
Legolas slowly headed towards the hillock, his every sense locked onto the place where the grass had moved oddly. What he saw when he came in sight of the large predator shocked him. This was no taerg as he had expected. He had become familiar with them in the past weeks as he had guarded the Olybryn. This thing that crouched low in the grass was something he had never seen. Bright intelligent eyes watched him carefully, but it was the evil malevolence that they held that bothered the elf. A thick shock of long hair crested its shoulders and fell down its back like a mane. Where a taerg had a long whip-like tail, this thing had a shorter, stunted tail that was covered in dark hair. It was difficult to see just what the animal's body looked like as it crouched low in the grass.
Tensing the shaft of the arrow against his bowstring, Legolas widened his stance. It mattered not what type of creature he beheld, the animal's intent was obvious, it would stalk and kill either the oliphaunts, or worse, the Olybryn and Legolas could not allow that.
With the smallest of movements the elf released the projectile, the arrow tip sighted in on the creature's right eye. Whether the beast sensed his motion or just jerked to the left he would never know, but the elf's arrow fell short of its target as the creature leapt out of the path of the weapon.
Never had he seen anything move quite so swiftly as the altered taerg did. The animal jumped to its left, avoiding his arrow and placing it closer to the elf, in Legolas' full view. The creature was twice the size of a normal taerg. Its massive head was wider and broader than any of the predators he had seen. The rake of the creature's body reminded the elf of a warg as it sat hunched on huge powerful back legs ready to spring. Mottled hair covered its haunches and its shoulders. Its long forelegs ended in wide paws that more resembled... Legolas was taken back momentarily as he realized that the animal before him resembled a warg in many ways.
The top incisors of the beasts teeth jutted down from under its upper lips and curved over the edges of it lower jaw. When it hissed at the elf, opening its wide mouth Legolas could see the rows of sharp teeth.
Of all the taergs the elf had encountered none had felt evil; they were simply killing to eat, it was survival. This creature that stood in front of him however, hated him and he could feel the loathing the animal held for him. This beast was intelligent, and it was thinking not just responding to his presence. 'Like a warg', Legolas' mind was screaming at him. He had to admit there was an uncanny resemblance both to the wargs that he knew and the taergs he had encountered in this creature.
The animal jumped at him, snapping its huge jaws, testing the elf's reflexes as the nimble being leapt aside. So this one would be harder to kill, the altered taerg surmised, snarling fiercely. It wanted the challenge. Its desire to simply satisfy its hunger had been overridden by the deep yearning to kill for sport that had been bred into it, a trait it shared with the wargs.
Legolas released a second volley of arrows as the creature rushed him. Ducking its head at the last possible moment, the crossbreed avoided the projectiles as they shot by his ear, imbedding themselves in the thick skin of his shoulder.
The small sticks that flew bit into his skin but barely penetrated. The bites that they left on his tough hide irritated him and he flattened his ears in a fierce snarl, ready to end this fight.
Cabed had sent Sircyn ahead to call for help for the sharpshooter they had left behind and Legolas could hear Talft and Lur running through the field behind him, calling out to him.
On the far side of the hillock Seobryn's men heard the disturbance and quickly altered their course, heading towards the shouting, hoping to catch the newly bred creature and reclaim before it could get away or be discovered.
The cat-like predator leapt at the elf and Legolas dropped to the ground on his knee, quickly freeing one of his long elven knives he thrust the blade into the animal's chest as it passed over his head; the weapon stuck fast in the thick hide caught between the animal's ribs.
Piercing pain ripped through the beast's awareness and it dropped to the ground heavily, panting. Its eyes narrowed as it stalked in a circle around the elf that had once again taken up his bow, restringing two arrows onto the thin string.
Talft and Lur skidded to a halt a few feet behind Legolas, staring at the animal that the elf was fighting with. The creature, distracted for a second by the threat of the two new men, roared in frustration, glaring at the Haradrim and shifting around Legolas to get a better a look at them.
The distraction, a second at the most, was all that Legolas required. He tracked the beast's movements and when the animals gaze moved from him he released his weapon. One arrow pierced the creature through the roof of its mouth as it roared in anger; the other found its mark in the taerg's known weak spot, its eye.
The predator dropped to the ground soundlessly. Legolas approached the strange animal, another arrow already fitted and ready if he needed it. He kicked the dead carcass and waited. This...taerg or whatever it was, had been very smart, he was taking no chances.
Seobryn had watched as his crossbred creation was shot and he glared in anger as Legolas mounted the small hillock. The hunter, still a ways away from where the altered taerg had fallen, stopped running and allowed his men to crest the hill before him. He sighed in frustration, Tyndel couldn't be faulted, the animal had escaped and probably gone after the Olybryn. He should have known. Shaking his head in anger and disgust, he walked slowly up to next to Tyndel and looked down at the dead animal. All that work and for what? What would Saruman do now? This had been the only successfully crossbred creature they had; everything else had failed even their repeated attempts to duplicate the exact circumstances surrounding this ones success.
He kicked the animal in contempt.
Talft and Lur edged closer, glancing between Seobryn and the dead animal.
"What is that?" Legolas asked breathlessly. The animal had been harder to kill than a taerg and that was saying a lot.
"It's a taerg." Talft answered quickly, too quickly.
Seobryn shot the guard a withering glance. He knew Tyndel would never fall for that, but now there was no choice but to play along.
The sharpshooter glanced up at the trader. "*That* thing is a taerg?" He asked, demanding another opinion.
"Yep." Seobryn knelt next to the creature and pulled the elf's arrows from its body, handing them back to Tyndel as he stood up.
"I have never seen a taerg like this Seobryn." The elf accepted the arrows and bent down to retrieve his blade from the animal's chest, wiping the blood off on the long grass before resheathing it.
"Tyndel," With a nod in the elf's direction, the old trader's gaze flicked up quickly and locked with Legolas' before dropping back to the dead body. "You haven't lived down here that long. There's lots you ain't seen, boy."
Legolas bristled at the curt response but the glare the trader laid on him told him he had stumbled onto more than he realized.
"When did you return south?" Legolas asked more calmly. "I don't remember seeing you come through."
"We passed east of Rhuddryn's. Had some business out that way to take care of. We're camping to the south of here. Hunting's good this time of year." Seobryn answered casually. His eyes narrowed and his tone darkened as he continued. "Besides I don't have to check in with Rhuddryn, he doesn't own me."
Talft pushed his way forward, trying to forestall the tension that was building. "Don't worry about this Mister Seobryn, we'll bury the carcass. No harm came, the herds are safe."
Seobryn brushed the man roughly aside, pushing the Haradrim away from the beast's carcass. "My men will handle it. Go keep to the herds. Where there is one taerg there may be others. It wouldn't do to have Rhuddryn's oliphaunts attacked over something like this, now would it?" He pierced the guard with a steady glare.
Eager to be away, Lur gently grabbed Legolas' elbow and drew the reluctant sharpshooter with them, nodding his head in agreement. "Good idea, we'll be going now."
Talft jerked away from his friend and headed out towards the main house. Legolas allowed the Haradrim to lead him away but he gave the dead animal one last glance before he turned to leave. Something wasn't right. Seobryn was highly irritated and there was more to that animal than met the eye. It was no taerg, Legolas was sure of that. They were lying, all of them. He had felt the taergs before, they were not evil nor did they think like this one had. This animal reminded him of the wargs that the orcs rode, terrorizing the low lands in the Riddermark of Rohan; intelligent, evil and bred for one purpose, killing. They did it well and they enjoyed it. This creature had enjoyed the challenge of hunting him. Legolas wasn't completely sure he could have killed it, if Talft and Lur hadn't distracted it.
He followed the Haradrim guards quietly back to the oliphaunt fields, his mind racing through the thoughts and questions that dogged him. Neither Talft nor Lur had been surprised to see Seobryn. But both of them had been terrified by the creature, they hadn't drawn their weapons against it even before he had killed it. What stopped them? He had never seen them react that way with a taerg before.
It was obvious that Rhuddryn and Seobryn's dealings were not purely that of a trader and a purchaser as they wished everyone to think; there was much more to this and he had no doubt that whatever it was Aragorn had found out and that was the reason behind the state he was in. He was sure that this had to do with that crossbreeding that he had overheard Seobryn and Chadoc talking about when they thought he wasn't listening, speaking low at night over the fire when they had assumed that everyone was asleep. He hadn't liked what he heard then; he liked it less even now. At the time he had thought they spoke in theory, or with as much truth as the other fanciful tales that they often concocted for one another, but now he wondered. He remembered how Seobryn had talked to him about the various traits of wargs and taergs as if comparing their strengths and weaknesses... suddenly this all seemed to be making sense... however, there were many pieces still missing.
He needed more information. Deciding he had nothing to lose he tried to engage Talft and Lur in conversation as they reached the fenced off area of the oliphaunt fields and headed for the gate, keeping a wide berth from the herd and their keepers.
"Have you ever seen a taerg like that before?" Legolas asked the two guards, his tone light and conversational.
Talft glanced back at the elf but did not speak. Lur would not meet his steady gaze.
"I see." He quietly answered himself.
"It is best not to ask Tyndel. You are a marksman, you protect the herds. That is what you did. Leave it at that." Talft stalked off, shoving the gate open hard so that it banged shut behind him loudly. Lur stood undecided for a moment glancing between his friend and the elf. With a shake of his head the tall dark skinned guard shrugged his shoulders and followed Talft back to report to Rhuddryn. He dreaded telling their employer; this would not go well.