Chapter 10 – A Grim Reunion

Elrohir groaned and finally managed to push himself to a sitting position after the third try. He was forced to watch the horrifying events as they unfolded before his eyes, having no power to prevent it. When Thad threw the dagger at Legolas, he had shouted out as loud as he could, but his voice barely made it out from behind the gag in his mouth. He hated himself for closing his eyes when the elven prince pitched forward right into Aragorn’s sword, thinking Legolas’ death impending. He did not see his brother’s lightning fast reaction, when he wrenched his weapon back, his reflex changing the result of the intended outcome. Assuming that Thad had succeeded, all hope fled his body, and Elrohir had allowed the man to drag him back towards the house. The thought that Legolas might still be alive never occurred to him, until Thad suddenly dropped him and crumpled to the forest floor. Then he heard an enraged howl, followed by the unmistakable voice of the wood-elf calling out to Aragorn. At first he couldn’t believe his ears, but as he twisted his body around and regarded the scene, he knew that Legolas was still alive… at least for the moment.

The ear-splitting scream tore him away from his stupor and sent a shiver up and down his spine. He did not realize that he had been lying on the grass motionless while Aragorn fought to save the prince’s life. Now that he had finally managed to sit up, Elrohir scooted as fast as his weakened body would allow towards his brother and friend. His legs still refused to cooperate, but he could feel some strength returning to them slowly. Knowing that Aragorn would need to care for Legolas, he and Elladan would have to depend on each other, instead of Aragorn.

The cut on his neck burned, and he could feel the heat radiating up his face and down to his chest, but fortunately the poison on the tip of the dagger had been insufficient to cause serious damage. The neck wound still bled sluggishly, which alerted him to the possibility that the poison might be preventing the blood from clotting. Furthermore, the severe pain that he felt when he strained the muscles in his neck made him wonder if the poison were also designed to torture its victims with unimaginable pain. The revelation sent a shudder through his body as he thought of the pain that the wood-elf was enduring now. He had to tell Aragorn of this discovery before the human unintentionally caused their friend more pain. Doubling his effort, he crawled towards the young man with renewed strength and determination.

A soft rustle behind him alerted the ranger of another presence. Automatically seeking out his sword, Aragorn gripped the hilt of his weapon tightly after his fingers searched out the object. Twisting his body around partly, he swept out with his sword, preparing to defend his helpless friend when a familiar face caught his attention. Yanking back hard on his weapon, the ranger barely managed to stop its forward momentum, the sharp blade coming to a halt mere inches from Elrohir’s head.

“Valar! Elrohir! I could have killed you!!” Aragorn shouted at his brother angrily, but his expression softened instantly as guilt flooded through him at the realization that he had neglected his brother and left him where he had fallen.

Elrohir turned, indicating for the human to cut the ropes that bound his hands. The ranger did it with a quick flick of the blade. With his hands freed, Elrohir removed the cloth from his mouth and flung the offensive material aside. Rubbing his raw wrists and trying to work the feelings back into his hands, the younger twin winced as blood rushed back into his numb fingers, causing the feeling of a million pinpricks in his extremities.

The dark-haired elf hissed disgustedly at the pain, and his head snapped up suddenly as he remembered what he was here for. “Don’t...” Elrohir croaked and had to swallow several times before he regained his voice. “Don’t jostle him too much,” he managed hoarsely, as Aragorn pressed the abandoned bandage back onto Legolas’ back.

“What?” Aragorn looked at his brother, not sure what he was taking about.

“The dagger... it was poisoned. It’s slowing down the clotting of blood and also increasing the sensitivity to pain.” Unconsciously, Elrohir reached up to his neck and touched the shallow cut.

Aragorn watched his brother worriedly. The wound on his neck was still seeping blood.

Seeing his brother’s reaction, Elrohir waved his hand at the human. “It’s all right, I’ll live…” but before he could finish, Aragorn cut him off.

“Where is Elladan? He asked nervously.

“Inside the house. He is fine. Don’t worry. But I’m afraid that you will have to go get him. I don’t think I can make another trip back to the house.”

“What’s wrong?” Aragorn eyed his brother worriedly, concern written all over his face.

“It’s a long story,” Elrohir replied, while ripping several strips of cloth from his own cloak and folding them into pads. Nudging Aragorn’s hand away from Legolas’ body, Elrohir replaced the soaked bandages, trying his best not to jar the elf too much, but despite his mindfulness, Legolas let out a muffled cry. The younger twin apologized silently, but he had to relieve Aragorn so that he could go and release Elladan.

The human nodded curtly and hurried towards the house, disappearing through the door.

Elladan leaned restlessly against the pole. His keen elven hearing had picked up the soft conversation outside the house, and he was relieved when he heard Aragorn’s approach. Letting out a grateful sigh when his brother removed the gag and relieved him of the unpleasant position, Elladan could not help pulling the young man into a fierce embrace.

“Are you hurt?” Aragorn pulled away and immediately began to fuss over his elven brother, scanning him from head to toe, taking in the torn tunic and the dark brown stain that marred the material.

“I’m fine. The wound has almost healed,” Elladan informed the anxious man to put his mind to ease. “Let us get out of this house. I don’t like this place.”

Aragorn agreed with much enthusiasm and helped his brother onto his feet.

Elladan’s legs wobbled dangerously and he was forced to grab onto Aragorn to steady himself. His brother scowled at his weakness but the elf dismissed the man with a small wave of the hand.

“It will pass. Don’t worry.”

“Tell me what happened, `Dan,” the ranger pleaded as he slowly led his brother out of the house.

TBC...