Chapter Thirteen

Aragorn looked behind him and knew immediately that it was the foot of a person that he had tripped over and that Elrohir was now digging out of the snow. This had to be the one they had heard crying out, the one they had come to rescue---too late from the looks of it.

The man’s eyes followed the line of the legs to the boulder that covered the rest of the person. Snow kept him from actually seeing the stone lying across the body, and Aragorn was grateful for that. He didn’t want nor need to see the crushing damage that such a weight had done to flesh and bone.

Despite the fact that rescue had proven futile, Aragorn did not regret the attempt, because he could, at the very least, live with himself for having tried, even if the person’s life had been lost. He heaved a great sigh of regret for whomever it was lying here in what would be his final resting place, since there was no possible way to get him out from under the heavy boulder. Where could they have possibly buried him in any case?

As Aragorn stared at the now exposed boot, a nagging feeling of recognition began to work its way into his mind. This boot definitely looked familiar. He didn’t understand how or why, but that didn’t change the fact that it did.

He turned his head to look at Elladan, when the older twin, himself staring at the boot, drew in a sharp breath. “By the Valar...” It was obvious that his recognition went one step further; he seemed to know exactly who it belonged to.

“It cannot be,” Elrohir said, echoing the same level of recognition as his older brother.

As the twins looked at one another, both said the same thing at the same time. “Legolas.”

The ranger stood totally stunned. His first thought was that they were trying to fool him with one of their patented jokes. His mind rejected that idea immediately. His brothers could often be relentless pranksters, but they would never do such a cruel thing to him. If they were now saying this was Legolas, it must be. But was that even possible?

Aragorn couldn’t speak or move and was only barely able to breathe. He stared wide-eyed, afraid that if he did anything more than that, the hope that this was indeed his dearest friend would shatter into a million pieces. But isn’t that exactly what was about to happen?

The man’s mind reeled. Had Legolas somehow escaped from the cavern only to be killed by a falling rock out here on the trail? Had he come so close to getting away from the howlers and finding his friends only to end up here---like this? Aragorn’s chest began to constrict.

Elladan knelt down near the edge of the rock and began clearing away the snow piled up against it. He slid his hand between the bottom side of the boulder and the body of the one he now believed to be the youngest Prince of Mirkwood.

“There is space here,” the elder elf said almost breathlessly. “He is not crushed.” He felt obliged to add, “At least not on this side.” The implication was clear, but he couldn’t put into words what each of them feared.

Elladan’s words of hope finally broke Aragorn out of his immobilizing stupor, and the man leapt to his feet and vaulted over the boulder, sliding to his knees on the other side. He began to dig frantically through the snow at the spot along the rock where he believed Legolas’s head should be.

When enough snow had been cleared, like Elladan, he slipped his hand under the boulder to see if there was any space there to indicate that the elven prince may have survived the fallen rock. He didn’t know what he would do, if he felt...

The ranger took a deep breath and held it, as his hand slid farther under the rock. It soon came in contact with something, and he gripped it tightly. What he felt in his grasp was hair. With his hand now trembling, Aragorn pulled it toward him and found himself staring down at the silken strands of gold that he realized his heart had been begging he would see. “Legolas,” he whispered with the exhale of his breath.

The man looked up to see both of his brothers staring at him from the other side of the rock. There was hope shining in their eyes, as well. They couldn’t see the hair in their brother’s hand, but they had heard him say the wood elf’s name.

“Is he alive?” Elladan asked with a mixture of anxiety and trepidation in his voice.

Aragorn started to shake his head, meaning he didn’t know, but then realized that doing so would make the twins think he was indicating that Legolas was not alive. Fortunately, he stopped himself in time and instead just shrugged. He bent forward again to find out the answer to that all-important question.

Aragorn reached under the rock again. When he touched the elf’s head, he moved his hand around to try and reach the elf’s neck to feel for a pulse. He never got the chance.

Feeling a hand moving over his head, Legolas jerked away from it as far as he could in the limited space he was confined to. It was partly a reflex action at the suddenness of being touched and partly that he was not going to make it easy for any of the howlers to get a good grip on him. ‘Let them come in after me.’

His anger served to clear his mind, at least temporarily, from the haziness that constantly threatened to overtake it. It had been in such a haze that had kept him form recognizing the voices of his friends. To him it had sounded like the howlers, and he had focused elsewhere to keep from hearing their evil words. He was sure those words had been taunts made to try and frighten him.

When Aragorn felt the elf move beneath his hand, he was so startled, he jerked his hand away and banged it on the rock. He was so overcome with emotion, he barely noticed. “Legolas!” the man shouted. “Speak to me!”

“Estel?” the elf asked. He could hardly believe his ears. “Is that you?”

“Yes, mellon nin, it most assuredly is.” Aragorn was so relieved that he lowered his head until his forehead was resting against the cold stone. Legolas was alive! He knew not how such a miraculous and wonderful thing could have come about, since the elf’s death at the hands of the howlers had seemed so certain, but right then, he didn’t care.

Elladan leaned down and put his lips near the space under the boulder. “Legolas, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Elladan, I hear you.”

“Can you tell if there is enough space for you to be pulled out from Estel’s side? I do not believe there is room on this side. It is very tight above your legs.”

Legolas turned his head sideways and tried to look down the length of his body. He could make out a bit of light below his hips but nothing more. “I cannot tell, but I do not think so,” came his disappointed answer.

“What about your side, Estel?” Elrohir asked his ranger brother.

Aragorn did not answer right away, and in the silence, came a plaintive plea from the trapped elf. “Please, Estel, get me out of here.” At this point, he had had all he could take of lying under large stones.

Recognizing the elf‘s desperation, Aragorn leaned down. “Hold on, Legolas. I promise we will get you out.“ That said, the ranger set his mind to figuring out just how that task was going to be accomplished.

Trying to move the boulder was completely out of the question. Even if the boulder hadn’t been so incredibly heavy, the fact it might shift and end up crushing Legolas was all too real.

Finally, Aragorn nodded to himself, as an idea came to him. “I think I might be able to reach in far enough to get my hands under your shoulders and pull you free.”

“No!” the elf yelled. “You must not do it that way.” The thought of the agony that maneuver would cause momentarily overcame Legolas’s frantic desire to get out from under the boulder.

Aragorn was taken aback by the vehemence of Legolas’s response. He didn‘t understand. His friend had just pleaded for the man to get him out, and his suggestion seemed to be the easiest and most expedient way of doing it.

“Legolas,” he called, “what’s wrong? I can’t pull you out by your hair.” There was no humor in that last remark. He was just thinking of the one part of Legolas he had been able to get a hold of.

“My shoulder is...injured.” came the obviously reluctant explanation.

Aragorn frowned. It wasn’t easy, nay it was near impossible, for the elf to admit to any kind of injury. If it was an obvious one, he simply said that it wasn‘t serious, and that he was fine. ‘It must be bad,’ the man concluded to himself.

“I will try to get my good arm up and extend it out to you, Estel” Legolas was telling him. “You will have to pull me out that way. There does not seem to be any other option.” The remarks brought the man’s attention back to the present situation.

Aragorn’s frown deepened. The elf’s voice sounded weak, and he didn‘t think it was because the archer was under a rock. He hoped that the injury Legolas mentioned was not the cause, though he could think of no other reason.

In less than a minute, the ranger saw the elf’s right hand reach out toward him. He grabbed it tightly and squeezed. It only distantly registered in his mind that the elf’s skin was not cold as would be expected, considering his current situation.

The elven prince curled his long slender fingers around his friend’s hand and returned the strong grip. The contact with the man gave a tremendous sense of relief to Legolas. Though he knew his freedom was not yet assured, he had ultimate faith in all of his friends’ ability to secure it.

Laying his feet flat to the sides in preparation for them to slide under the rock, Legolas said, ‘I am ready.”

Elladan again called to the trapped younger elf. “Legolas, lock your knees and keep your legs stiff. Elrohir and I will push your feet as far as we can. That should take some of the pressure off of your arm.” As with all elves, Legolas didn’t weigh a lot, but there was no point in risking any new injury. As an afterthought, Elladan asked, “That will not cause you harm, will it?”

“No. I have no other injuries except my shoulder. Pushing will not harm me.”

Elladan’s instructions were quickly obeyed and each twin gripped one of the prince’s feet and then nodded to Aragorn, who was watching and waiting for them to get into position.

With one last, quick squeeze of reassurance, Aragorn used his other hand to grip the elf’s arm just above the elbow. He placed both of his feet against the side of the boulder, using it as an anchor, and then began to pull in one smooth, steady motion.

Elladan and Elrohir pushed against the bottom of Legolas’s feet until their arms were at full length under the rock. As Aragorn continued to pull the elf out from his side, the twins could no longer reach Legolas’s feet and so had to give up pushing.

By the time Legolas was almost half way out, Aragorn had reached the full length of his legs. Keeping them propped against the rock was no longer of any use. He then folded his legs up and dug his heels into the snow until they were touching the thin coating of ice over the rocky trail. He banged them down several times until he could feel the heels of his boots connect with the raw stone. Believing he had the best leverage he was going to get, Aragorn began pulling again by straightening his legs out.

When the ranger finally saw Legolas’s boots clear his side of the boulder, he lay the elf’s arm down and crawled around to kneel at his side. Unable to contain the joy flooding his heart, Aragorn picked the elf up and held him against his chest. “You are truly alive.”

Since it was his uninjured right side that was against Aragorn’s chest, the elf couldn’t return the embrace, however, he did grip the man’s arm with his right hand and leaned into Aragorn with an overwhelming feeling of relief and pure happiness. He stayed just like that until Aragorn was ready to release his hold.

“We thought you dead. Killed by those creatures, “ Aragorn began to explain.

“I nearly was,” Legolas remarked, unable to stifle a shudder at the memory of the howler leader’s words of what his fate was to be.

Gradually, Aragorn’s grip on his dearest friend loosened.

When Legolas was finally able to sit upright, Elladan and Elrohir were right there beside him. Neither could resist touching him to reassure themselves that who they thought they were looking at was really there.

“How?” was all Elrohir could manage to say, his face warring between joy and confusion.

Elladan’s heart was also filled with elation, yet he was frowning. “We will have to learn the details later. Right now, we must find some kind of shelter for the night. The light will be fading soon, and we must have enough of it to examine and then tend to your wound.” He was eying the younger elf’s left shoulder, wondering what had caused such an unusual injury. He could have sworn it was a bite of some sort, which made no sense to him, though at this point, he knew virtually nothing about any of the creatures that inhabited Orod Moru.

An expression of fear crossed Legolas’s face. “Where are the howlers?” He looked around, fully expecting to see those hideous creatures surrounding them and grinning with their identical rows of horrible, jagged teeth.

“We have not seen them,” Elrohir replied. “But Elladan is right. We must find shelter before we lose the light.” His primary thought was for them to help Legolas, who was obviously in need of of their aid. However, they also needed to find a shelter that would offer them some sort of protection from the howlers. He didn’t believe the creatures were going to give up and let them all leave the mountain without a fight.

Elrohir didn’t know then just how right he was.

TBC