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~*PART EIGHT*~
When the black breath blows
When death’s shadow grows
And all lights pass
Come athelas, come athelas
Life to the dying
In the king’s hand lying...
Legolas’ body was so cold to the touch, it was frightening. Were it not for the faint falling and rising of his chest Aragorn would have thought him already dead.
The Dùnadan had already cleansed the elf’s wound of whatever foul substances the Witch King had been giving him, but Legolas seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into the shadow.
Aragorn knew what the elf needed; he only hoped that he could do it. Elrond had told him that he could, that he had the strength within him to drive back the shadow... but Aragorn was still afraid. Afraid that he would fail when it was most important for him to not.
With trembling fingers he poured some of the boiling water he had used to clean the prince’s wound with into a small dish. Holding the athelas leaves he had gathered in the palm of his hand, Aragorn breathed on the handful before crushing them and dropping them onto the water. The clean, beautifully wholesome scent that reminded him of Rivendell and Elrond immediately filled the air. The steam wafted around them and seemed to hang in the air, moistening every breath that they took with its healing fragrance. He found himself relaxing as the herb cleansed the pall that surrounded them.
After a few moments he was encouraged to see that a faint pink tint had returned to the elf’s dangerously grey skin. Aragorn took hold of the prince’s hand. Still cold, but not as cold. Gently he rubbed Legolas hand with his own willing the heat of life to return.
“Legolas,” he called quietly, with more authority than he knew he had. “Legolas Greenleaf, come back. Leave the shadow. Return to the light. Come back to me, to light, to life...” He spoke in elvish and his words lingered on the air. “Legolas...” He closed his eyes and quieted his fears hoping that the athelas would work, unable to watch if he had failed.
The prince stirred. The slim hand that rested in Aragorn’s began to warm. The ranger reacted to the small change in the elf, leaning near, searching the prince’s face for signs of consciousness. Legolas breathed in deeply and very slowly, opened his eyes. They were blurry and clouded with pain and confusion, but for the first time in days Aragorn could see his friend in their silver-blue depths and he smiled in relief at the recognition in Legolas’ eyes.
The elf blinked slowly. “Wh-what happened?” he whispered faintly. “I feel as if I have lived a nightmare somehow... yet I cannot remember...”
“You have had a very bad dream my friend, but it’s over now. It’s all over,” Aragorn soothed gently, lightly touching his friend’s tangled hair. There would be plenty of time for Legolas to remember, and deal with what had happened later. For now, he was just glad that the elf was recalled from the shadow.
Legolas was not content with his answer, but felt too weak to protest.
“We will talk about it later,” Aragorn warded off any further questions. “Rest now. Rest.” The sound of the grey tongue was so soothing to the elf, he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard it and he allowed the ranger’s words to comfort him. There was a nagging unease in the back of his mind as though something had gone terribly wrong and he needed to be worried about it, but he couldn’t focus.
Aragorn noted the tension in his friend and moved from his kneeled position, seating himself near the elf’s head. Gently he pulled Legolas into his lap and held the prince in his arms, cradling the elf’s head against his chest. Fear from almost loosing his friend caused his breathing to hitch in his throat. “Relax Legolas, you are safe now.”
Legolas allowed himself to be held, letting go of the nagging fear that he couldn’t quite shake. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, although he didn’t know why he was apologizing.
“No, no it’s all right. Don’t be. Everything will be fine.” The sweet clean scent of the athelas wound about the two of them, filling the small cave with a sense of peace and serenity as the rain gently continued to fall outside, its patter a calm resounding in the hollow. Within moments the elf was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling normally and his open eyes staring vacantly, contented in rest. Aragorn bent down and gently kissed the top of the elf’s fair head. It had been so close, too close.
The ranger closed his eyes as the alternatives flashed through his mind. A waft of athelas blew past him and he banished the dark thoughts from his consciousness, whatever might have been, wasn’t. Legolas stirred lightly in his sleep and Aragorn looked down at the elf and nodded, yes they would be all right.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The night was rent with a piercing cry and Aragorn jerked awake. The cave was dark and the rain had finally stopped falling. He heard the cry again and recognized it for what it was, elvish.
“Legolas!” the ranger moved quickly to the dying fire and blew into the still warm embers, igniting the small flicker. By the light of the fire he found the elf pressed up against the far wall, his eyes squeezed tightly closed and pain etched on every line of his face.
“No. No more! Stop please!” the elf was crying out, speaking rapidly in the grey tongue, caught in the midst of a nightmare.
Aragorn scooted near the prince and gently gripped Legolas shoulders, talking softly to the elf, trying to calm the terrors he was caught in.
“Legolas it is I, Estel. Wake up. You are safe.”
The elf shook his head, trying to pull away, “No, I killed him, he is dead.” The words came out in a sob.
“Legolas, open your eyes, I live.” The human shook the elf with more force than he had meant to and the prince cried out, and gripped his wounded shoulder tightly, his eyes flying open to lock onto the silver ones staring at him.
“I slit your throat,” Legolas’ voice trembled, not yet entirely free of the terror of the dream or conscious of the reality of his waking.
“No, you didn’t, you couldn’t.” Aragorn gently eased Legolas’ hand away from his shoulder and checked the bandage to make sure he hadn’t accidentally reopened the wound. “You saved me. You didn’t obey. I am alive.”
“I was going to kill you. I betrayed you to Mordor and I...”
“Stop!” Aragorn shushed the elf gently, touching the prince’s split lip with his fingers and silencing the self-condemning tirade. “You were not acting as yourself, you were under the Nazgûl’s control. But he did not own you completely.”
Legolas was staring at the ranger, listening, trying to make himself believe the words. “I remember everything Estel. I remember what he made me do. I remember holding the knife to your throat. I remember it all...”
The utter look of sorrow on the elf’s face touched Aragorn’s heart and he pulled the prince into his arms and held him while he spoke softly, whispering in the elf’s ear, “I half hoped you wouldn’t remember anything my friend. I’m sorry.”
Legolas pulled back and stared at the ranger, “Where is he?”
Aragorn shook his head and looked back out into the forest, “Gone I think. I am not sure he survived... although I fear he did.”
“Survived what?”
“I set his clothes on fire and he ran off into the woods.” The human shuddered at the memory of the wraith’s screams as they had echoed through the woods.
Aragorn was jerked back to the present when Legolas lunged forward and grabbed his arm, demanding his attention. “There was a woman and a child. Did you find them, are they safe?”
With a smile the man answered, “Maraen and Estelle? Yes we found them.” He covered the elf’s shaking hands with his own, “They are safe and doing well thanks to you and my father. They are the reason I knew where to come looking for you. Maraen didn’t remember anything when we found her but her memory slowly returned and father was sure he would be able to heal her completely with the athelas. I didn’t wait to find out if it worked, I had to come looking for you.”
Legolas relaxed slightly and looked to the floor of the cave, speaking softly, “They are the only reason I consented to staying with the Nazgûl. He wanted to kill them and I traded my life for their own. Perhaps it was not the right choice...but I could think of no other. I hoped they would make it to your home safely.”
“They did and they have you to thank for it.”
“You don’t know what I did.” Legolas stared into the silver eyes, a haunted shadow darkening his own before he dropped his gaze. “I couldn’t stop myself from obeying him.”
Aragorn reached out and placed his hand behind the elf’s head, pulling his friend closer, forcing the prince to focus on him, “I don’t need to. I know who you are. I know what lives inside you, and it is not darkness, it is light. We have been here before my friend. You know that your heart is good. Darkness can never truly own light.”
Legolas nodded slightly in agreement and the ranger smiled back at him changing the subject quickly, “Now come over here by the light and let me take a good look at that cut on your shoulder. If you are feeling well enough, we’ll start back for home today.”
The elf shifted nearer the fire, watching his friend closely. “Strider, tell me something.”
Aragorn was preoccupied with Legolas’ wound. “Sure, anything.” He muttered absently as he lathered the cut with crushed athelas leaves.
“What happened at the falls?”
The ranger stopped what he was doing and looked up at the elf in confusion. “What falls?”
Legolas rolled his eyes and smiled lightly, “Did you hit your head on the way down? Have you forgotten that you fell from the heights that day we went hunting?” It was, in fact, indelibly etched into the elf’s mind.
“Oh!” Aragorn caught on to his friends train of thought, “Yes, I guess I had forgotten, its been over a month now since I fell.” He rolled his shoulder testing it, it barely even ached now from the old wound. He laughed at his forgetfulness, “I was so worried about you I forgot that you haven’t seen me since then.” The ranger tied off the bandage and stopped talking as he noted the look of shock and pain on the elf’s face.
“Legolas what is it?” Aragorn leaned forward and touched the prince.
The elf jumped slightly and stared at the ranger, “I’m sorry, did you say a month?”
With a slight nod, Aragorn answered. He watched his friend carefully, letting the silence grow between them before he spoke again. “Did you not know how long you had been in the captivity of the Nazgûl?”
“No.” Legolas whispered, looking away to the back of the cave to hide his horror.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...”
“Everything was dark. There was no day or night. There was only pain and darkness. I knew when I slept and when I woke, but I had no knowledge of time at all. It was as though I was neither here nor absent from this life but caught somewhere in between in shadow.” He shuddered as the recollection caught him up once more. “It seemed an eternity, but I had no idea it was so long.”
Aragorn didn’t know how to respond. He shifted closer and laid his arm across the elf’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to find you sooner. I never imagined that you weren’t simply home with your father. If I had known...”
“My father!” Legolas turned huge eyes on the ranger, “I never showed up! He will know some ill has befallen me!”
“Yes, he does. He sent Raniean and Trelan to find out what had happened.” Aragorn gazed into the fire, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I imagine they are pretty upset right about now. I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night and left them behind. No one will ever find us here, I made sure of it. And if I know Elladan and Elrohir they are probably out hunting us right now.”
Legolas was not consoled by the humor, “It will tear at his heart. I was not there for the last yèn. He probably thinks that I disobeyed his request - again.”
“Legolas, you didn’t.” Aragorn focused his attention back on the elf, “You were going home. You even left without knowing if I were alive or not – which is how I would have had it. When he hears what happened he will understand.”
The elf looked at the ranger incredulously, “Obviously you do not know my father very well. He will be relieved that I did not disobey and then infuriated that I was taken captive, and by a Nazgûl no less!”
Aragorn laughed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. I was just thinking that it’s a very good thing that your father never had anymore sons and none the likes of me or my brothers, we would have brought his head down to the grave!”
Legolas started laughing, pushing the human away from him, “I can't believe you said that! But you are probably very correct.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go back with the three of you and we’ll explain it together. It’ll work out just fine, you’ll see.” He shook his head slowly, as he moved to the opposite side of the fire and began to collect their things, packing them into his sack as he spoke. “And speaking of them, we best be heading back if you are able. They were worried sick about you. Sounds like the rain has stopped, we should be able to travel with no problem.”
“I am able to travel,” Legolas affirmed. “Let us go.”
Aragorn turned and stared hard at the elf, “If you feel the least bit sick or need to rest, you had best tell me. If you let that elven pride get in the way, I will never let you forget it. Understood? We can stay here a bit longer if you like.”
The elf stared at the ranger with a look of disdain, “Are you quite through mothering me?”
“Not until father says you are well, no!” The ranger set his pack down and leaned forward, returning the hard stare.
They locked eyes for a few moments neither backing down. Aragorn had the patience to wear the elf down in this instance and Legolas dropped his gaze with a rueful smile, “You are more like your father than you realize.”
“Thank you.” Aragorn smiled brilliantly at the elf, stepping lightly around the fire and seating himself back near his friend. “Now are you ready?”
“Under one condition.” Legolas glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes.
“All right.” Aragorn turned serious and stared openly back at the elf. His intensity caused the prince to start laughing and Legolas pushed the ranger over with a gentle shove.
“You must tell me what happened to you at the falls!”
Aragorn broke out laughing as he forced his hands underneath him and moved to the entrance of the cave, “That, I can do!”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“So you are telling me that the whole time we were calling for you, you were *behind* the falls?” Legolas picked his way carefully around the roots of a large tree, his footing not as sure as he would have liked it to be as he trailed the ranger.
“Yes. You cannot believe how relieved I was to discover that I was in a cave just inside the falls.” Aragorn slowed his pace and glanced behind him, discreetly watching the elf navigate the rough terrain. “I have never been more afraid than when I realized I was trapped. What an awful feeling.”
“Yes.” Legolas’ voice lowered as he thought, “I can understand. I know exactly how you felt.”
Aragorn turned and met the silver blue eyes of his friend, “You were conscious then, inside yourself the whole time?”
“Yes.” The prince swallowed hard. “I just could not keep myself from obeying. I had no control over my body. It was like being locked inside a prison and I couldn’t get out.”
“Well, then I guess we both probably have difficulties with tight spaces.” Aragorn smiled a lopsided grin at the prince, intentionally trying to be light and draw his friend back out of the pain Legolas had begun retreating into again. It worked, for the moment at least.
“Indeed we do.” The elf laughed, “At least you were able to...”
His words were silenced as Aragorn held up his hand and stopped moving, kneeling quietly behind the cover of the brush that littered the forest floor. Legolas crouched down next to him.
“What is it?”
“Someone approaches.” The ranger barely spoke, glancing slowly around the wooded area. “Can you not hear them?”
The elf nodded as the muted sounds of footsteps carried softly to him. He laid his hand on the ranger’s back and when the man turned to look at him, the elf extended his hand palm up requesting a weapon, as his own had been taken from him by the wraith.
Aragorn slipped a knife from his boot and passed the dagger to the elf.
The approaching foot falls had stopped and they both tensed in the unnatural silence. Quiet, hushed conversation drifted to Legolas on the slight breeze and he touched his ear quickly before pointing in the direction that it came from.
The ranger nodded and motioned for the elf to stay while he moved around to scout out their new guests. The elf pulled the ranger close and whispered softly in his ear, “I will go around the other side.”
“No, you stay here.” Aragorn whispered back, his breath moving the blonde strands of hair, “You are not fully well yet.”
“I am fine.” Legolas leaned back and stared hard into the dark silver eyes to emphasize his words.
Aragorn grabbed him and pulled him back in close, “You are not. Now do as I say.” Without waiting for the elf to respond he twisted on his bootheels and crept off to the right to search out the unseen company.
Stealthily the ranger passed the small group up. He could tell from the sounds that there was more than one person on the path. Gaining a good position behind the company, he trailed them back towards Legolas. As he closed the gap between himself and the persons in front of him he recognized the small group and couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face.
Quietly slinging his bow back over his shoulder he unsheathed his sword and stepped silently up behind the elf that brought up the last position, Trelan. Moving quickly he grabbed the elf around the waist and jerked the fair being back against him bringing his sword up under the small elf’s chin, tipping Trelan’s head back till it rested against Aragorn’s shoulder.
The company had ceased immediately, turning at the slight sounds of the scuffle. Trelan was barely breathing as he opened his eyes and glanced out of the corner of them at Aragorn.
The ranger was smiling with open delight at the fear on the elf’s face. “Missed you Trelan. How have you been?” He whispered fiercely at the shaken warrior.
“Oh for the love of Valar, Strider!” The elf sagged back against the ranger with relief and annoyance. “Let me go!”
“Did I scare you?” The human asked, egged on by the deep laughter of Raniean, “I told you I’d pay you back for that Trellep joke you tried to play on me.”
Trelan sighed in disgust and pushed his elbows against the human, forcing the man to release his hold and drop his weapon so as not to harm the elf.
“He got you good Trelan.” Raniean laughed as the small warrior made his way back to his friend’s side, trying to regain his dignity. “You should have seen the look on your face.”
The human smiled brilliantly at the two elves that accompanied the Silvan warriors.
Elladan just shook his head, “That was very well done. I didn’t even hear you come up on us.”
Elrohir looked about them into the woods, “Estel, did you find the prince?”
“Yes he did.” A voice behind the company turned the attention away from the ranger as Legolas stepped onto the path. He smiled at the small grouping as Trelan and Raniean walked quickly to his side, quietly asking him questions.
He gently reassured his friends and joined the others. There would be enough questions to be answered and he did not wish to relive the events of the recent past just yet.
Elladan glanced between the prince and his human brother. They were quite a dirty, bedraggled sight, but they both seemed to be in pretty good health. “You are both walking under your own power and neither of you seems over-grievously injured. How did you pull that off Estel?”
The human rolled his eyes and smirked back at his older brother, “As if that’s a first?”
“It is.” The twin replied sarcastically.
“No Estel, it is.” Elrohir cut off the human’s argument agreeing with his twin. “I think father will be very impressed.”
“That remains to be seen.” Legolas replied seriously.
Aragorn walked back to the prince and stared up into the blue eyes, “My father will be very impressed.” He held the elf’s gaze for a long moment.
The small company of warriors shared a questioning look, obviously something occurred that could not be readily seen and from what the elves knew it couldn’t have been good. But the fact still remained that the two friends were by all outward appearances safe and well and so the warriors surrounded them without further question and walked them back to the city built into the rift. They would know the full story soon enough.
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~*PART NINE*~
Elrond heard the commotion in the common room and left his study to investigate. He could hear Celboril arguing with the twins, an occurrence that was rare. Stepping into the doorway the elf lord quickly took in the situation and had to stop himself from laughing out loud.
Elrohir and Elladan were holding a wet and dirty ranger between the two of them, the human’s feet barely touching the floor. The servant was trying to press prince Legolas forcefully out of the room complaining about the dirt the two bedraggled beings had brought in with them.
It was true; Aragorn was filthy from the fight he and Legolas had survived. Soot and ash discolored his overcoat where he had nearly fallen into the fire. His boots were covered in mud and his face was dirty and bruised. Prince Legolas faired no better. He was wearing one of Aragorn’s old shirts and the left shoulder was stained dark with blood. The elf’s face was as bruised and dirtied as his human companions although he had obviously suffered more, attested by his split lip, and the half lidded gaze that belied his weariness.
“Not there either!” Celboril shouted, shooing the elves away from the couch that they were about to deposit their brother on.
“Put me down!” Aragorn growled shifting between the two, “this is my house I can come into it dirty if I like!”
Elrond hid the smile on his face as Legolas dropped into a chair much to Celboril’s dismay, “Not there! Prince Legolas you must go change.”
“I will. I will.” Legolas wearily answered the servant. He was too tired to think. The prince looked up and took note of the elf lord standing in the doorway, trying to conceal his laughter.
As the room quieted and all eyes turned towards the entry, Elrond stepped in and brought the argument to a close, “Enough. This is my house and I say who can come and go in it and how they may do so.”
Celboril immediately stepped back and bowed slightly, “Yes my lord, forgive me.”
Elladan and Elrohir dropped Estel and the young human stumbled off balance tottering back against the couch. He jumped up quickly brushing off the seat and glanced guiltily at his father.
“It is well. Sit. It is only furniture, it can be cleaned.” Elrond glanced at Celboril with a small smile before turning his attention back to Aragorn, “And you look as if you will fall down any moment. I’d rather have you on the couch than on the floor.”
“I’d rather have you on the couch too, because I do not wish to pick you up off the floor. You’re getting rather heavy you know that?” Elladan murmured to his human brother.
Aragorn allowed himself to fall back onto the couch, kicking his leg out at the same time and causing his brother to trip over him.
“Stop.” Elrond spoke darkly, glancing at the siblings. “This is not the way I wanted to end this day.” The elf lord looked over at the prince and motioned for the young elf to join them as he took a seat opposite the plush couch, “Please Legolas, come sit over here. It is warmer, near the fire and more comfortable.”
Aragorn scooted over as Legolas joined him. The two made for quite a sight and Elrond looked them over carefully, shaking his head slightly, “At least you are both walking and were able to enter the house under your own power.”
“For the most part.” Aragorn glared at Elladan who had walked around Elrond’s chair and leaned against the back of the seat.
Trelan and Raniean edged closer to hear the conversation. They had stayed out of the room during the whole altercation with Lord Elrond’s servant but now that things had settled down they moved back towards Legolas, hoping to discover what had happened to their friend.
Elrond graced his human son with a stern stare, “Aragorn, you and I will have a serious talk when this is over. Patience is something you lack yet young one.”
Aragorn leaned forward, his demeanor completely changed from the cockiness that had spurred the argument moments earlier, “Father, when you hear what has happened you may change your mind.”
“I have the feeling I may. I think I know partly what you will tell me already. But I will reserve my judgments for later.” His gaze softened as he noted the way Aragorn’s eyes begged him to understand. Something else had happened. Breathing in deeply to settle himself the elf lord caught the slightest hint of a familiar scent and his eyes narrowed. “Tell me what happened.”
“Well, I found Legolas.” Aragorn graced his father with an impish smile before glancing at his friend.
Legolas barely met the ranger’s eyes, his countenance was somber and he did not smile back. It seemed to Aragorn that the prince was closing himself off and the human scooted a little closer to his friend.
“So you did.” The slight shift in emotions was not lost on the elderly elf and he smiled softly at the two of them, “And I am very glad that you did Estel.”
The same familiar smell hung in the warm air. Elrond stood from his seat across from the two friends and approached his son. He gently laid his hands on the young man’s head. Bending down the elf lord barely touched the ranger’s hair with his face and breathed in deeply trying to catch the scent that had been evading him. The sweet, clean smell of athelas clung to the young human.
“I thought I smelled athelas on you.” Elrond reseated himself and stared at his son, curious to hear what had transpired.
The ranger became suddenly nervous. He hadn’t given a second thought to taking some of the healing herb with him, honestly, it was common enough in the wild, but feelings of self-doubt flickered through his mind and he wondered if he had done something wrong.
Legolas shifted uncomfortably next to him, eyeing the occupants in the room before glancing at Aragorn.
The elf lord observed the slight exchange. Noting Legolas’ unease and the discomfort he had exhibited when the subject of athelas was brought up Elrond asked the other elves to leave them for a bit.
Trelan and Raniean were instantly reluctant, unwilling to leave their friend and wanting to know what had become of him during his absence. Celboril immediately departed with the twins close behind. They had no worries that their younger brother would tell them in privacy later when time permitted what had transpired.
“Please,” Legolas looked over his shoulder at the two Silvan elves, “leave us. I will be fine and there are things I need to discuss with Lord Elrond.”
With a slight nod Raniean pushed Trelan out of the room in front of him, allowing the prince the space that he requested.
Aragorn watched them all leave before glancing back at the two elves, “Shall I go as well?” He was uncertain as to whether or not his father wanted to speak to Legolas in private.
“No.” The prince touched his arm, holding him in place.
“No,” agreed Elrond, smiling at the two friends as they locked eyes, “I would hear your part in this as well my son. But I sensed that you, Prince Legolas, were having difficulty discussing recent events with the others in the room.” The elf lord glanced at the human, “The fact that you were forced to use athelas worries me and says in and of itself that your situation was far more grave than what I originally had thought.”
“What did you think had happened father?” Aragorn leaned fully back against the soft cushions, realizing he was overly tired. The fire snapped and crackled softly and the warmth from the blaze had a calming effect.
“Maraen awoke this morning.” Elrond glanced at Legolas, “She remembered everything.”
“How is she?” Aragorn questioned, concerned. He recalled the last time he had seen the young woman.
“She is well and will recover completely.”
“Recover?” Legolas glanced between Aragorn and Elrond, “But he said...” He stopped talking and dropped his head in his hands, knowing he shouldn’t have been surprised. “I knew he was lying. Never trust a... I never should have agreed.” The words were a mere whisper.
Aragorn leaned down, trying to look into his friend’s eyes. He gently pulled Legolas’ hands away from his face, “You didn’t know he would lie.”
Legolas exhaled with as much disgust as his weary, hurting body could muster and shook his head. Maybe he had known, maybe he hadn’t. He had suspected that the wraith was hardly trustworthy, but what other choice had he really had? “I should have killed him.”
“He would have killed you.” Aragorn’s eyes flashed angrily as he spoke, “And then he *would* have killed Maraen and the baby. You did the right thing.” Legolas nodded silently before shifting his gaze to the fire.
“Who is *he*?” Elrond questioned softly, “Maraen could only describe him as someone or something evil and clothed in black, a dark lord.”
“He is.” Legolas’ eyes were fixed on the fire. He allowed the hypnotic weave and dance of the flame to flood his mind as he thought back to that first day, willing himself to relax. It was hard to relive the nightmare, so hard.
Elrond spoke quietly, beginning the tale from what he knew, “Maraen said that you found her after their home had been attacked by orcs. She believes her husband was killed by them. I have sent Moranuen to Taradin in hopes that the two of them can find the girl’s husband. She claims to have escaped, whereupon she was found by you.” Elrond glanced at the prince. The young elf simply nodded.
“Yes, I found her.” With a deep sigh Legolas turned back towards the elf lord, “She was too near her time to birth and the baby came. We were within hearing of the orcs camp and the child gave away our position.”
Legolas ran his hand back through his hair, pulling the wayward strands out of his face, “We evaded them for as long as she was able. But in the end they overwhelmed us and we were trapped. And then he came.” The elf shivered with the dark memory.
Aragorn draped his arm around his friend, “Its all right, he’s gone.”
“Not gone.” Legolas glanced at his friend, “Fire will not kill what that one is.”
“Legolas?” Elrond leaned forward, his brow was knit with a frown as he followed the conversation, “Who did you encounter?”
The young elf swallowed hard, the answer difficult to speak, “It was an Ulaire my lord.”
"A what?" Aragorn asked in confusion. He had never heard the elvish term and it surprised him.
Elrond sat back in the chair, unable to answer for a few moments as the implications sunk in. That something so evil should be so close to his home was no small matter.
Glancing at his son the elf lord explained, "Ulaire is the elvish word for Nazgûl, Estel. Nazgûl or ring wraith is their common name derived from the dark tongue." Aragorn nodded mutely.
“He was searching for something I think. But what it was I did not possess.” Legolas watched the elf lord carefully.
“He searched me for it also.” Aragorn spoke softly, remembering the way the wraith had probed his very soul looking, searching, desiring to find what the ranger did not have.
Elrond glanced up sharply when the human spoke, fixing the youth with an indecipherable gaze. “He searched you?”
“I think that’s what you would call it.” Aragorn looked over at his friend for confirmation. “He didn’t exactly touch me, but it was as though he could see through me and it felt like bands of darkness wrapping themselves around me until I couldn’t breathe. Then he let go. I wanted to resist him, I wanted to fight his will... but something stopped me. Almost as if something was telling me I shouldn’t.” The young ranger allowed his puzzlement to creep into his voice. He was still a bit perplexed by that.
Elrond stood from his chair and walked towards the fire, leaning against the ornate mantel. “It is well that you did not Estel. For then he would have seen you for what you are and it is not yet time for you to be revealed to Mordor. The time is unripe and you are not ready... not yet.” The elf lord sighed quietly, the weight of ages seeming to come into his eyes. He understood far more about this situation than his son or the prince. “It was only a matter of time before they took up in search again.” He said quietly. “I told them did I not? It is moving... it will be found again. I had hoped we would have longer.”
“Father?” Aragorn had never heard his father speak with such weariness.
“It is nothing to worry about yet my son.” Elrond turned back to the two of them, “But the council will need to know, and especially Mithrandir.” A small smile pulled at the corners of the elf’s lips, “Knowing him, that wizard already knows full well and just let it slip his mind.”
“Well you are beginning to sound like him, speaking in riddles.” Aragorn muttered sarcastically.
Elrond laughed lightly, “Go on, tell me the rest.”
Legolas recounted the horrors of being subject to the evil being. As he forced himself to tell Elrond about Aragorn’s capture and his part in it and his near inability to stop himself from killing the ranger, tears welled up in his eyes, spilling down his fair cheeks. The prince looked away, brushing his palms across his eyes quickly and blinking hard, ashamed of what he had to relate, and of his own weakness now.
“I’m sorry.” He stopped speaking, dejectedly staring down at the floor, his breathing hitching as he tried to regain control of his emotions.
Aragorn kneeled on the floor in front of his friend, forcing the elf to look into his eyes, “I told you before it was all right.”
“I watched you fall over that cliff, fearing you dead. I was forced to leave before they found you and then when I saw you next I handed you over to the enemy and tried to slit your throat. Now, you tell me, what is all right about any of that?” Legolas’ voice was soft and strained. He didn’t know how he could ever deal with what he had done, with the darkness that had touched him.
The young human turned and implored his father for help.
“I will tell you young one.” At the sound of Elrond’s deep voice Legolas looked up, “The fact that you are here, free from the Nazgûl’s control. The fact that you saved Estel by your actions. Your will was not controlled by the evil and you never stopped fighting it. The very fact that you sit in my presence and acknowledge these things openly speaks of the good in you, which is indomitable. *That* is what is right about all that has happened.”
Legolas watched the older elf, weighing his words, allowing the truths to sink into his soul and vanquish the lies that had been eating at his heart. “Yes, you are right.” He finally agreed. He knew the truth when he saw it, and although lingering traces of guilt remained, he tried his best to shake them off.
Smiling, Aragorn pulled the elf forward and whispered, “I told you so.”
With a laugh, the prince pushed the human backwards, tipping him off balance. The ranger caught himself on his hands before he fell, his mirth uncontained until a thought struck him. Turning towards Elrond, Aragorn seated himself on the floor leaning back against the couch and questioned his father, “Do you think we killed it?”
“The Nazgûl?” Elrond clarified the cryptic question. When his son nodded the elf lord continued, “No. Legolas was correct, simply setting him on fire would never release that tortured soul that is bound to Sauron himself. The black-cowled figure you saw was merely one of the corporeal forms taken by the Nazgûl, convenient for them when they travel abroad.”
“Will there be any lingering effects from his evil?” Legolas needed to know.
Elrond stood from his seat and approached the elf prince. He pulled back the young elf’s tunic and inspected the healing wound. Satisfied that it would heal with the proper care, Elrond leaned down and pressed the palm of his hand against Legolas forehead, closing his eyes, he listened.
In seconds the elf lord withdrew his hand and smiled down at the young prince, “There is no darkness within you young one. The athelas has cured you completely. You have nothing to worry about.” Elrond smiled at Estel and nodded to the young ranger, “Well done my son. You have used the athelas well.”
The elven lord walked to the far side of the room and opened a tiny drawer hidden behind the ancient books stacked on the shelves that lined the wall. Retrieving a small object he walked back towards them, explaining, “There is an old saying, a true saying. It is said that, ‘The hands of the king are the hands of a healer’. ” The elf did not finish the old prophecy for now was not the time yet for the young human to know his full destiny, this much was well uncovered for the present.
Elrond sat down across from the two friends and opened his hand, holding it out, palm up. In the center of his palm lay a ring. It was made of two entwined silver serpents with eyes of emeralds met beneath a crow of golden flowers that the one upheld and the other devoured. The silver circle sparkled in the firelight. Elrond held it out to Estel.
“Take it my son. It is yours. It is part of your heritage.”
Aragorn picked up the ring and slid it onto the forefinger of his left hand - it fit perfectly.
“The ring has been in Isildur’s family for generations. It marks you as an heir of that house.” Elrond smiled softly at the human. He knew how hard it was for the young man to accept who he truly was and so they had agreed to take it slowly. His son nodded his head, looking back to the ring and admiring it.
“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. It has come into your family and has been known as an heirloom in the House of Elendil for generations. And now my son it is yours. Your abilities in curing Legolas with the athelas are only more proofs that you are Isildur’s heir. In time your lineage will be known by all men, but for now it is enough that you accept it.”
The ranger was fingering the ring. He slipped it off his hand and passed the token back to Legolas who was leaning over his shoulder trying to glimpse it. The elf took the ring and looked it over, running his fingers around the edge and feeling the intricate detailing. It was a stunning piece, and the history that went with it even more so, for Finrod Felagund, King of Nargathrond and brother of the lady Galadriel, had perished defending the mortal, Beren, err this age of the world began. The prince passed the ring back to the ranger with a smile.
Aragorn slipped it back on his finger and looked up at his father. The elf lord was smiling sadly down at the human. His adopted son was growing into the man he had raised him to be.
“Now up with the two of you. You are filthy and wet and Celboril will have my hide for letting you sit on ‘his’ couch.” Elrond teased. “It is nearing the dinner hour. Go change out of those clothes and clean up. There are fresh clothes in Estel’s room.” As the two headed for the door the older elf stopped them, “Legolas, I will want to look at that wound personally before you retire for the evening. You did very well young prince, your father will be proud.”
“My father,” Legolas shook his head somewhat ruefully, but he grinned with good humor, even if it was laced with exhaustion. “My father is going to have my head next time he sees me, of that you can be sure,” the prince muttered softly.
Elrond grinned softly. “I think not once he has heard the entire tale. He will be glad that you are able to return to him *whole*, nevermind *when*. Trust me, for I know a father’s heart.”
Legolas nodded, rubbing his aching eyes. He was too tired right now to worry about anything anyway. All he wanted at the moment was to get washed and into something clean and be able to rest a little before he had to face anyone else again. Eventually he was going to have to confide in Raniean and Trelan, but not yet.
“Estel,” Elrond’s voice halted his son in the doorway. “I would have a word with you.”
The ranger smiled at his friend guiltily and walked back towards his father. Legolas wearily mounted the stairs and headed for the guest room adjacent to his friend’s.
“Yes father?” Aragorn walked back up to the older elf and looked into the silver eyes.
Elrond pulled the boy near the fire, turning them away from the door so that any who happened by would not accidentally hear their conversation.
“What you did with the athelas yesterday, in healing Legolas, few can do. It is a skill that has been reserved by Iluvitar for the use of royalty only. Be careful how you use this gift, but do not hesitate to employ it when it is needed.” He glanced sideways at the human who stood next to him staring into the flames.
“I am still not used to this...” Aragorn struggled for the right words and Elrond let him have time to respond. “This heritage that I have been given. I was truly happy simply being Estel, son of Elrond.” He turned and locked eyes with the elf lord, “Is there anything so wrong with simply being that?”
Elrond smiled softly and shook his head, “My son, you will always be Estel and no, there is nothing wrong with that. However the time will come I think when you will be called to be even more than simply the adopted son of an elven lord.” Aragorn began to protest but the elf quieted him, placing his arm around the slumped shoulders of the young man, “I said that time would come, I did not say it was now. You have plenty of time to simply be Estel.” He laughed lightly as the ranger glanced up at him through strands of wayward hair. “Do not trouble yourself with the future, today has quite enough trouble all to its own.”
Elrond glanced behind them into the hallway. The twins stood on the threshold, their glances curious and worried, “I think your brothers will be enough to occupy you for the time being.”
Aragorn glanced over his shoulder and threw the elven twins a devilish grin before Elrond redirected his attention, “This conversation will remain between us and you may wear the ring or put it away as you should choose. It is up to you.”
The ranger fidgeted with the silver circle for several seconds, “I’ll wear it. But I’ll still be called by my right name, my elven name.” He clarified.
Elrond laughed and pushed the boy towards the door, “As you wish Estel. Now off with you before Celboril calls super. Do not think he will tolerate you at his table looking like that.”
“Nor will I!” Elladan teased him, ruffling his hair as he walked past.
“What have you there Estel?” Elrohir fell into step with his younger brother, walking tightly next to the human as Aragorn showed him the ring. They traipsed quietly up the stairs, talking softly together as Elladan joined his father near the fire.
“Told him more?” the younger elf asked his father, recognizing the ring his youngest brother was now wearing.
“Yes.” Elrond watched the two climbing the stairs, “He has much to think about. Perhaps you can lighten his mood.”
The elder twin snickered evilly, “Oh, not a problem there father.”
“Elladan,” Elrond turned to his oldest, “I said lighten, not torment. Now please go see to the warriors from Mirkwood. Have them join us for dinner tonight.”
“I’ll see to it father.” The younger elf quietly left and Elrond turned back to the fireplace, watching the dancing flames.
So much had transpired in the past day that it would take some time to absorb it all but the fact remained that the Nazgûl were near and searching. There were others who would need to know of Mordor’s quest and he quickly penned a brief recount of Legolas and Aragorn’s mishap. Sealing the notes with his signet ring he called a runner and instructed the servant to stop for no one, but deliver the letters, one to Lothlòrien, one to Isengard and one to the care of an innkeeper in Bree who would hold it until the person it was addressed to should turn up. With that chore taken care of the elf lord walked towards the dinning hall, seeking the company of others.
___________________________________________________________
~*PART TEN*~
Elrond’s dinning area was filled with people when he entered it and he couldn’t help smiling as the atmosphere of the celebrating beings banished the darkness that had settled in his heart, sweeping away the worry the events of the day had brought with them.
Estel was seated next to his brothers and across from the Silvan warriors. He had changed and cleaned himself up, but the bruises and the dark circles under his eyes attested to his weariness. The younger elves were entertaining themselves teasing the human. It wouldn’t be long before the ranger got back at them. Presently he was laughing helplessly and shaking his head, protesting whatever Elrohir saying. However, the empty seat beside the young man worried the elf lord.
At the other end of the table sat the elves that served in Elrond’s household. They were talking quietly amongst themselves. Marean accompanied them; she had quickly taken to the female elves and seemed to truly enjoy their presence. Elrond had even considered allowing her to stay in Rivendell if her husband was not found. Curious, he looked closer and caught sight of Estelle beside her in a basket on the floor, the baby was sleeping contentedly. He smiled at the girl and nodded in acknowledgement of her presence. It cheered his heart to see their table so full.
The opposite end of the hall erupted in laughter and Elrond turned his attention back to the elves that were talking animatedly amongst themselves, arguing. Shaking his head the elf lord approached his youngest son.
Estel stopped laughing and turned in his chair looking up at the elf lord, when his father placed his hand on the ranger’s shoulder.
“Where is Legolas?” Elrond questioned quietly.
With a start the ranger realized the seat next to him was empty. “I’ll go see.”
“If he is sleeping, let him rest Estel, we’ll bring him something to eat later.” The older elf called after his son as the human swiftly climbed the stairs. Aragorn smiled as he listened to the laughter coming from the large hall; he loved being with his family.
At the top of the steps Aragorn turned right and walked past his room towards the guest quarters. He knocked softly on the closed door. When Legolas didn’t answer right away he quietly entered the room. The chamber was dark save for a small glowlamp in the corner. At first glance he didn’t see the elf and concern gripped his heart.
“Legolas?” Aragorn whispered softly into the darkened room. Stepping into the interior, his eyes lighted on the lithe form.
The prince was asleep, sitting in the overstuffed chair that occupied the corner right behind the door. He must have sat down to just rest for a few minutes, but his injuries and the stress of the past month had caught up with him and overwhelmed him. He was finally safe, he could finally let his guard down.
Aragorn smiled down at his friend. Legolas had changed from the dirty clothes he had been wearing and had slipped into his silver leggings and matching tunic. He had had every intention of joining them for dinner. It was the only dress outfit he had brought with him and he often wore it for mealtime. Silently Aragorn moved to the bed and pulled the extra blanket from the foot of it where it was neatly folded. He shook out the soft fabric and gently laid it over the sleeping elf trying not to disturb the prince. Tucking the edges around the elf he turned to the darkened fireplace and quickly started a small fire to warm the cool room and give his friend light throughout the night. He remembered Legolas telling him how dark it had been where he was and the ranger remembered how he had first felt when he had returned home after escaping the cave.
When the fire was stoked enough to satisfy him, Aragorn turned to leave. He glanced at his friend before heading for the door and smiled softly, the elf was watching him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” The ranger whispered.
“It is all right.” Legolas returned the smile and stiffly sat up. “Did I miss dinner?”
Aragorn stifled a soft laugh, “No, not yet. But you might wish you had. Elladan and Elrohir are giving Trelan and Raniean tips on bowhunting.” He laughed in remembrance of the argument. “Father says you may stay up here and he’ll have dinner brought to you later if you like. He thought you might be overly tired.”
“I’m not.” Legolas lied, pushing himself into a standing position with a soft moan. “I’ll join you.”
The elf stopped and stared at his friend. Aragorn was glaring at the prince, one eyebrow raised in accusation.
“What?”
“WHAT!?” the human stalked towards him, “You can hardly move. Stay here and rest.”
“I am going down there to eat with your father. You may join me if you like.” Legolas stared stubbornly at the ranger.
“You are the most stubborn creature I have ever met!” Aragorn frowned at his friend as they moved towards the door.
“And you and your kind are the most intrusive.” Legolas turned back towards him and feigned an indignant glare. “Now, I really am hungry. I can't remember eating decent food in...” the elf stopped and glanced at the ranger, “Well I can't remember eating!”
Aragorn’s laughter was interrupted as they reached the stair well. An insistent knocking on the huge doors of the house echoed up to them.
“I wonder who that is?” The human quickly descended the stairs, followed more slowly by his elven friend. The laughter and talk about the dinner table covered over the sound of the persistent rapping as Aragorn pulled the wooden doors open.
Moranuen stood in the entryway with Taradin and another man that Aragorn did not recognize.
“Mora! Taradin!” The ranger pulled the elf into the house pounding his friend on the back and motioned for the hunter and his companion to enter. “How are you?” He looked the older man over and smiled, “You look well.”
Taradin stepped back and eyed the ranger and Legolas, carefully frowning at the two of them. The elf prince had slowly joined the small group, a smile on his bruised face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Well you look like wargs got the best of the both of you.” Taradin observed. “What happened?”
“Uhm, it’s a rather long story.” Aragorn looked sheepishly at Legolas.
“And it would bore you to tears.” The elf quickly picked up, unwilling to speak of it and wanting only to be near others and around cheerful faces.
“Right.” The hunter smiled a lopsided grin at the friends, “Well knowing the two of you I highly doubt that, but I’ll leave it for later.” He quirked a bushy eyebrow at the ranger and continued, “But don’t think you’re getting out of it. A tale as good as whatever beat the stuffing out of the two of you is worth waiting for.”
Aragorn laughed and clapped the man on the back, “As you wish. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of the only entertainment you ever get.” The human smiled devilishly at the hunter.
Taradin let out a booming laugh as he cuffed the younger man good naturedly on the shoulder, pushing the ranger back a step. Aragorn winced and sucked his breath in, his hand going instinctively to his bruised arm.
“It’s all right. Its all right.” He reassured as he massaged his shoulder lightly. “Just a bruise.” He commented quickly as he caught sight of the slight smile on Legolas face, his look the very epitome of feigned innocence. The ranger tried to quickly change the subject and leaned around Taradin to glance at the man standing behind him. “Who’s this you brought with you?” The human smiled impishly back at Moranuen, “Don’t tell me, *he’s* the one?”
“That he is!” Taradin answered for the elf. “He heard you got something that might belong to him.”
“More like two of them.” Legolas smiled at the man, immediately understanding of what they spoke.
“This is Erron.” Taradin introduced the man who had until now remained quietly behind him. “I picked him up over a month ago. He’s been working with my company, right useful with a sword I might add.”
Erron couldn’t have been older than Aragorn, in fact the young man looked to be two or three years his junior. He was taller and more filled out than the slender ranger and he towered a good head over his host. A thick mop of curly brown hair spilled about his face, it was cut short and neat and his green eyes held an excitement to them that couldn’t be contained.
“Is it true? Maraen lives?” His voice was soft and deep and Aragorn smiled up into the open face.
“Yes, she does at that.”
“And not only she but your child as well.” Legolas stepped near Aragorn and addressed the young man.
“I thought she was dead or worse yet, taken by the orcs. Blasted beasts almost got the drop on me after I left her. Had to hide in a cave, only to get trapped by a bit of a rockslide. When I finally dug my way out again... I-I couldn’t find her.” His eyes misted over slightly as he thought back to the past month. “I tried but... well, Taradin was good enough to take me in and give me a job and a place to stay.”
Aragorn smiled conspiratorially at the older man, “Softie.”
“What?” The hunter shrugged his shoulders and glanced away as though indifferent, “You take in one orphan you take in another, makes no difference. One, ten, they all the same.”
“Right.” Aragorn rolled his eyes, and began walking them slowly towards the dinning hall, “Speaking of orphans, where is Garith?”
“He’s back home, minding the trading post. I’m not staying long. Just here to drop this one off and set back out.”
Erron stopped and glanced at the man, “Taradin, are Maraen and I still welcome with you? I mean, may we stay until I build a new house?” The young hunter seemed suddenly at loss. “You and Garith’s the only family we have now.”
The older hunter smiled as he answered, “What did you think I was going to do, throw you out? Of course you’re staying - you and that little family of yours. Why Garith would never forgive me if I left you here. But winter’s coming on fast and we’ve still to stock the basement good. We’ll be needing to get back at it right soon.” He leveled the tall hunter with a serious stare.
“But what he didn’t tell you,” Aragorn interrupted glibly, “Is that now that you’re in Lord Elrond’s house you won't be able to leave until he says so.” He smiled wickedly at Taradin.
“Taradin says he’s an elf lord.” Erron whispered, half in awe.
“Yes, he is.” Aragorn answered, glancing quickly at Legolas before laying an open, questioning gaze upon the older hunter.
Leaning in close to the ranger Taradin whispered, “He ain’t never seen an elf before. Well not a lordly one if you get my meaning.” He nudged Aragorn and glanced back at Moranuen.
The elf rolled his eyes and walked past the two humans, “I think I’ll inform Lord Elrond that he has guests.”
“That would be good. Thank you Mora.” Aragorn shook his head and pushed Taradin away from him. “Legolas is a prince.” The ranger nodded at the elf that stood next to him, watching with uncontained humor as Erron’s eyes grew wide.
“Really?”
“Thanks a lot Strider. Shall I tell him who you are?” Legolas glared at the human who was helplessly laughing next to him.
Aragorn turned so that he faced the elf and quietly whispered, “If you think he’ll believe you go ahead.” His smile a dare in itself. “Didn’t think so.” The ranger taunted when Legolas simply glared back at him.
“Well shall we all go in now that we have been announced properly?” Aragorn ushered them down the hall to the spacious dining room.
Elrond had stood from his seat and was listening intently as Moranuen explained how he had found Taradin who in fact had only a month ago employed a man who claimed to be the only living person to escape Holswollow alive.
Maraen quickly jumped to her feet as the room quieted listening to the elf’s tale. “Did he give you a name?” she questioned.
A shift in the shadows behind him caught Moranuen’s attention before he could answer and he glanced into the darkened hallway catching sight of Aragorn out of the corner of his eye. The human had raised his finger to his lips; a twinkle of merriment lit his eyes. The elf knew that look well and easily played along with the man.
“I am afraid that he did not my lady. We have brought the trader and one of his men here in hopes that they could shed more light on the man from Holswollow.” Moranuen quickly dropped his gaze to the floor and wouldn’t return Elrond’s stare.
It took only seconds for the elf lord to realize what was going on as Elrohir snickered quietly from his seat, his eyes fastened on his human brother out in the hallway, whispering into the ear of a tall man that the twin had never seen. Elrond glared at his sons, shaking his head slightly – they never lost the opportunity to play lighthearted jokes on whomever was unfortunate enough to be near.
Moranuen stepped aside as Taradin walked up next to him, removing his hat and twisting it nervously between his huge hands. He bowed slightly, the movement awkward and stiff. “Lord Elrond.”
“Taradin. It is good to see you again, please join us for some dinner. Perhaps you can shed more light on this man you hired. His wife has done nothing but weep for him the entire time she has been here. I fear that her heart will break if you do not bring some good news with you.” The older elf cast a quick small smile back towards the doorway, he knew full well what he had said was not the full truth but he also knew that Maraen’s husband would not be able to stand the thought of the young girl crying over him.
Aragorn stood just beyond the arch, his mouth dropped open in total surprise. Never in all the years he had lived in Rivendell had his father teased anyone nor played along with any of the teasing of the younger generation. And he couldn’t help laughing out loud as Erron roughly brushed him out of the way, bursting into the hall.
“Now I know where you get it from.” Legolas leaned against the doorframe and glanced at his friend, a cocky smile on his face.
“I can not believe he just did that.” Aragorn couldn’t help smiling as he shook his head at his father who simply returned the look of disbelief with a satisfied grin. He followed Legolas’ lead and leaned into the room to watch the reunion of Maraen and Erron.
“He really got you.” Legolas quipped. He couldn’t help smiling as the large hunter knelt on the floor next to the basket that held his sleeping daughter and gently scooped the tiny bundle out of the makeshift crib. Maraen was crying with joy and Legolas was glad that this moment was possible and that he were able to witness it. At least some good had come out of the nightmare of the past month.
“He did.” Aragorn turned away from the sight of the reunited family and carefully watched his friend. Legolas eyes were half lidded and he winced slightly, moving his wounded shoulder to a more comfortable position against the hard wood doorframe. The elf was worn out but too proud to admit it. Aragorn realized with some surprise that he himself was rather weary. They both needed rest.
“Let's let them have their time.” Aragorn steered his friend away from the bright hallway, “We can eat later. I mean, really, are you hungry?”
Legolas allowed himself to be led away, thinking over the question his friend had just asked him. Oddly enough it took a bit for him to answer. “No. I’m not hungry now, not really. What I really am is tired.”
Celboril entered the hall just ahead of the two as they slowly walked its length. “I saw the both of you leave.” He held out steaming cups of warm, sweet, amber colored liquid. “To keep your strength up and help you heal.”
“And put us to sleep I’ll wager.” Legolas glanced warily at the mugs.
“Not this time good Prince. It looks like you have no need of help there.” The servant laughed at them, pressing the cups into their hands. “Now go on upstairs with the both of you. I’ll bring you food later.”
They had just reached the foot of the stairs when a soft voice behind them stopped them both.
“Legolas?”
The two turned towards the speaker. It was Maraen; Erron stood behind her, his large hands resting on her slim shoulders.
“I just wanted to thank you...” She hesitated and glanced back over her shoulder at her husband.
“*We* wanted to thank you,” Erron finished the statement, “for all that you did for us. I am in your debt for protecting Maraen and Estelle with your life. And to you ranger, for bringing them to this house of healing where they were safe.”
“It was my pleasure to help.” Aragorn replied softly.
“Mine as well.” Legolas answered with a smile, “And it was worth it. I am glad that you were able to find one another again. Life is a precious gift and you have been given a second chance. Iluvitar has been watching over you all.”
“Will you not eat with us?” Maraen questioned them.
They were spared from answering as Elrond walked up behind them and stepped into the entryway. He smiled at his son as he released the two friends from attending dinner, “Legolas and Aragorn have just made it back to Rivendell. I imagine they are weary from their travels. I will have food sent up to the two of you. Celboril will attend you should you have any needs.” The elf lord turned back to Maraen and Erron, “As for you, the food is getting cold, please make yourselves at home.” He escorted the couple back to the dinning hall.
Aragorn and Legolas had made it to the first landing when Elrond reappeared at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Estel?”
The ranger stopped and gazed down, “Yes father?” there were black circles under his eyes and he yawned as he spoke.
“Are you and Legolas all right? You both look worse than you did earlier.”
“Thanks.” Aragorn rolled his eyes and smiled.
“I, for one, am just tired my lord.” Legolas leaned against the balustrade resisting the desire to yawn after Aragorn just had.
Elrond doubted that weariness was the younger elf’s only problem, but given the circumstances that was understandable. “Very well. Go get some rest. Tomorrow morning you may say your farewells to Maraen and Erron. They will be leaving with Taradin.”
“We should be leaving as well.” Legolas glanced at Aragorn who only nodded because to speak would have required more effort.
“Neither of you are going anywhere until I say so. Is that understood?” Elrond glared at the elf and the human.
“I must return as quickly as possible, my father will be beside himself.” Legolas argued halfheartedly.
“And I have to go with him to help explain about the...about what happened. I have to, I promised.” Aragorn realized he was finding it difficult to finish his sentences.
Elrond stood in the entryway, the intensity of his gaze unwavering. Anyone could see that the ranger and the prince were nearly exhausted and he knew that arguing with Estel in the shape he was in would get them nowhere. Tomorrow he would enforce his ban on their leaving until the prince was fully recovered from his poisoning.
“We’ll discuss it in the morning.” He answered them.
“That just means no.” Aragorn looked over at Legolas, “That’s what he says when he doesn’t want to argue.”
Elrond laughed lightly at the human, “Exactly Estel. Besides no one is crossing the northern pass until I am sure that the orcs are well away from the area. The southern pass will take longer and require more traveling so you will need to be well to journey that way. I will send message to your father by carrier hawk, that you are well and will be returning to him by the southern route so he can expect your delay. But until I say so no one leaves this house. Now off with the both of you and get some rest.”
“I’m not arguing with him. You can if you like.” Aragorn glanced at Legolas and mounted the last flight of stairs to the bedrooms.
“I’m not arguing with him either.” Legolas followed his friend up the stairs, dragging himself into the warm, softly lit guest room, “It makes sense to me. I don’t think I want to leave for a bit anyway. I’m glad I can't. Father will be just as angry if I get home tomorrow or a year from now, he can wait.” The elf set his mug down on the nightstand and dropped down onto the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow. His ordeal had pushed him far past his limits, strong though his elven endurance was. Elrond was right; he needed to regain the strength he had lost before attempting the long journey home over the southern pass, down through the Gap of Rohan and beyond.
Aragorn picked the blanket up off the floor and draped it over his friend. He threw a few more logs on the fire to keep the room warm through the night and then headed for his own room. The interior was dark and he stumbled awkwardly about trying to find the small shell light he had since a youngster.
“Looking for this?”
The ranger jumped and turned at the sound of his brother’s voice. Elrohir entered the room balancing a tray of food and the tiny light, its wick trimmed and burning. “I borrowed it yesterday and forgot to return it.” The twin set the food down and placed the light on the mantel at the foot of the bed, lighting the room with its soft glow.
“Thanks. I don’t think I am hungry though,” Aragorn murmured, rubbing his eyes and blinking a couple of times. He carefully balanced his mug on the tray, making sure it wouldn’t tip over.
Elrohir laughed softly, “Well it really doesn’t matter. Father said bring you food and so we have.” He motioned with his head back towards the door, “Elladan brought some to Legolas.”
“He’s sleeping.” The ranger spoke around another yawn as he sat down heavily on his bed.
“I know.” Elrohir seated himself across from the ranger and leaned forward talking quietly as Aragorn pulled his boots slowly off his tired feet.
“So tell me Estel *what* was it that you and Legolas ran into out there?”
Aragorn glanced up quickly before busying himself with the other boot. “It was a Nazgûl.” He looked at his brother to watch his response.
Elrohir only nodded. They both jumped when Elladan spoke from the doorway. “I thought it had to be worse than orcs, the way father was acting.”
Their human brother only nodded, looking to the floor and absently wondering if he should even bother taking his socks off.
Elladan motioned to his twin. As Elrohir stood Aragorn looked up at them both, “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”
The elves nodded, “Its all right. Get some rest.” Elladan smiled at the human warmly.
“Yeah when you’re better Elladan can beat it out of you.” Elrohir ducked as his twin swatted at him. “I do remember him saying there were a few things he wanted to beat into you.” Elrohir laughed as he moved out of the way back towards the staircase.
“Really?” Aragorn raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously at his eldest brother.
Elladan suppressed his own laugh and rolled his eyes, “You know Elrohir, he makes things up. Like how big that warg was that he took down last week. Stuff like that.”
Aragorn could hear Elrohir protesting in the stairwell.
“Get out of here both of you and hush him up before he wakes Legolas.” The ranger laughed at them both walking slowly to the door and shutting it.
Elladan pressed his palm against the smooth wood and held the door open a second longer, “Estel, it is good to have you home, even if father has to enforce it for a bit.” He smiled at the human who laughed softly.
“It is good to be home.” Aragorn answered honestly. His smile turned devilish as he tightened his grip on the door knob on his side, “And I look forward to you *trying* to beat anything out of me. It’ll be a nice challenge for you in your old age.” He shoved the door firmly shut and pressed his weight against it, laughing as Elladan tired to push the door back open.
When it grew quiet outside he pressed his ear to the door and cracked it slightly open, “Just you wait my little brother and I will show you what an *old* elf can do to the likes of you.” His brother whispered through the crack in the door.
Elladan heard the ranger laugh softly at his comment as he descended the stairs. The celebrations in the dinning hall could just be heard as he joined Elrohir at the foot of the stairwell. Together the two walked back to the festivities. Things were well in the House of Rivendell this night and it was time for celebrating.
Upstairs the ranger pulled himself wearily into bed, a huge smile on his bruised face as he recalled his brother’s threats. He was looking forward to that immensely and with Legolas here it would be even more fun. They would leave as soon as his father allowed it but until then...he laughed as he blew out the small light. Until then he would enjoy being home with his family.
And things were good that night in the Last Homely House.
However things do not always remain unchanged...
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Epilogue:
(Taken from the Fellowship of the Ring, by JRR Tolkien)
(with the final paragraph being our own addition)
--Some sixty or more years later--
Legolas laid down his paddle and took up the bow that he had brought from Lórien. Then he sprang ashore and climbed a few paces up the bank. Stringing the bow and fitting an arrow he turned, peering back over the River into the darkness. Across the water there were shrill cries, but nothing could be seen.
Frodo looked up at the Elf standing tall above him, as he gazed into the night, seeking a mark to shoot at. His head was dark, crowned with sharp white stars that glittered in the black pools of the sky behind. But now rising and sailing up from the South the great clouds advanced, sending out dark outriders into the starry fields. A sudden dread fell on the Company.
“Elbereth Gilthoniel!” sighed Legolas as he looked up. Even as he did so, a dark shape, like a cloud and yet not a cloud, for it moved far more swiftly, came out of the blackness in the South, and sped towards the Company, blotting out all light as it approached. Soon it appeared as a great winged creature, blacker than the pits in the night. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water. Frodo felt a sudden chill running through him and clutching at his heart; there was a deadly cold, like the memory of an old wound, in his shoulder. He crouched down, as if to hide.
Suddenly the great bow of Lórien sang. Shrill went the arrow from the elven-string. Frodo looked up. Almost above him the winged shape swerved. There was a harsh croaking scream, as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. The sky was clean again. There was a tumult of many voices far away, cursing and wailing in the darkness, and then silence. Neither shaft nor cry came again from the east that night.
Giving one last look up at the sky Legolas shouldered his bow. He had a good idea what it was he had shot out of the dark sky that night. A faint smile of satisfaction pulled at the corner of his lips. That was something he had wanted to do for years.