Chapter 16 – Voice from The Past

Elrond felt his heart twist painfully in his chest. Suppressing a small sob of his own, he pulled Aragorn into his arms and embraced his grieving son, rubbing the man’s back up and down to calm his ragged breathing. “Do not despair yet, Estel. There may still be hope...” Elrond repeated the words, even though he knew them to be a lie... unless they could stop the bleeding in time. “The healers are working on a remedy to counter the poison in his system,” the elf lord said as he turned slowly to look at the unconscious elf and then back to his son. “Elladan told me that it was Thad.” The statement hung heavily in the air.

Aragorn nodded, not trusting his voice to speak yet.

“I need you to do something, my son. It will be difficult...”

Before Elrond could finish, Aragorn interrupted. “I’ll do anything, if it might save Legolas.”

“I need you to go to Thad’s old house and see if you can find any strange plants or flowers. Baran was a man of many talents, and one of them was developing exotic tonics and toxins. If Thad has somehow inherited his father’s skills, he may have gone back to the old house and continued Baran’s work,” Elrond explained. “This may be the last chance we have. I can’t spare any healers to go with you, for I need them here to continue working on a cure.”

“I’ll go with him.” A gentle voice from the doorway brought their attention to the figure standing by the entrance to the room. Elladan had changed into a set of clean clothes and his tangled hair hung slightly damp and silky straight, and he smelled of fresh pine. Apparently, he had been held back by Celboril when he wanted to join Aragorn and Legolas upon their return. The servant had appeared mysteriously just as he was about to follow his father out of the room, and Elladan was forced back into the bedchamber. He was later shoved into the bathing room, much to his protest, but the insistent servant threatened to lock him inside if he didn’t get clean up and have something to eat.

The elf walked unsteadily over to the bed and brushed his fingers over the young prince’s cheek, hoping that his touch could miraculously wipe the lines of pain from his friend’s features. “I’ll go to Baran’s with Estel.”

“No, Elladan. You’re still too weak,” Aragorn pointed out firmly. “You need to rest for your body to remove the remnants of the poison.” The young man approached his elven brother and rested his hand lightly on Elladan’s shoulder. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m afraid I cannot accept it. I’m sorry.”

Elladan sighed resignedly. “I understand, Estel. There is no need for apologies.” He reached up and patted his little brother’s hand, resting on his shoulder, affectionately. “Just… be careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Despite the graveness of the situation, a small smile crept into Elladan’s face, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second before his demeanor turned serious again. His brother was always careful, but no matter how vigilant he was, trouble seemed to find him on a regular basis.

Someone cleared his throat and gained the attention of the two brothers. Aragorn and Elladan turned in unison to face their father and the advisor, who had watched the exchange in complete silence.

“If you two are done, I would like to finish what I was saying.” Elrond’s smooth voice cut through the stillness like a knife. “I was going to suggest that Erestor go with you, Estel.”

Erestor bowed slightly at Elrond’s suggestion, indicating that he would be honored to accompany the young man. He knew that the trip would not be easy for Aragorn, for he had suffered much, both physically and emotionally, at the hands of Baran many years ago. In addition, he was the one who had ended Baran’s life and so thought that he was partially responsible for what had happened. The least he could do was to be by Aragorn’s side when he faced his demons once again.

Aragorn returned Erestor’s bow and accepted his offer gracefully. “We will depart immediately.” With one final glance at his sleeping friend, Aragorn followed Erestor out of the room.

*****

The ride to Baran’s old house was uneventful, and by the time arrived it was already dawn. The man and elf dismounted and approached the gate of the wooden fence. The place looked the same as it had almost twenty years ago, except that the grass had overgrown and the house was weatherworn. It did not look like anyone had stayed there for quite some time, but it also didn’t look like it had been abandoned for close to twenty years.

Unlatching the gate, Erestor and Aragorn entered the compound and made their way cautiously towards the door. Heart thumping in his chest, Aragorn couldn’t help the feeling of dread and panic that was building up rapidly inside of him. Every aspect of the house reminded him of his two-week stay at this place… fourteen days of sheer terror and pain.

The ranger stopped abruptly as he stepped under the roof and realized that he was standing on the exact spot where he had landed when Baran pushed him off the roof. Memories that he thought he had forgotten came crashing back to him without mercy, and Aragorn was forced to squeeze his eyes shut against the assault. Baran’s voice exploded in his head, so clear that it seemed that he was reliving the nightmare again.

# “Get up you worthless piece of....” Baran shouted at the young child as he strode into the pantry, accusing the boy of breaking the glass door to the cupboard. Estel's befuddled mind was still trying to make sense of things when the belt connected with his back. #

Aragorn gasped and his body stiffened as he felt hot flashes of pain flaring through his body. Erestor noticed that something was wrong when the man’s eyes slammed shut, his thoughts turned inward with some horrifying memories. The advisor moved in front of Aragorn and reached out to grab his arms, trying to get his attention, but the young man suddenly cried out as if in pain.

# Baran yanked Estel forward by his slender wrist, and they heard a sickening crack as the fragile bones snapped under the force. Estel screamed out in agony, searing pain shooting up his arm and tears streaming down his pale face. “You will never tell your father! For I will tell him you should be cast from his house before you shame him further. You are worthless!” #

The cruel words echoed in his ears and tears sprang from his eyes involuntarily. The pain and fear he felt were so real that he thought he had traveled back in time… back into the nightmare.

*NO!* His mind screamed out in a frenzied panic.

*Will never tell! Will never tell!* The three words played over and over inside his head.

# "You must learn, you filthy boy. If you even dare tell your father, I will hunt you down and kill you in your sleep." #

Aragorn shook his head violently and staggered backwards, trying to pull himself free from the source of pain, not knowing that it was all merely the haunting memories of so long ago. As he retreated frighteningly from Erestor, the young man tripped on a piece of log lying hidden among the tall grass. Unable to regain his balance, for a part of him was still trapped in the horrid memory, Aragorn lost his footing and fell, landing hard on the ground. The sudden jolt tore him away from his waking dream and brought him back to reality. Blinking at the tears that clouded his vision, the man took several deep breaths in attempt to steady himself and calm his pounding heart. He could feel his heart hammering ferociously in his chest, like a caged animal trying to make its way out of his ribs. His hands trembled as he brought them in front of his face. He couldn’t believe what had happened so many years ago still affected him such. Burying his face in his hands, the ranger let out a shuddering breath. A hand touched him lightly on his shoulder, and he looked up to find that he had drawn his knees up to his chest and was sitting on the slightly damp grass.

“Estel?” Erestor’s voice was gentle as he locked gazes with Aragorn, staring into his silver-green eyes. He wasn’t sure if the man had regained his senses, or if he were still trapped in the past.

“I’m all right,” Aragorn replied and was disappointed when his voice came out a little weak and shaky. He didn’t want the advisor to worry about him, but his voice had already betrayed him.

Erestor stood and extended his hand towards the man. Aragorn grasped it and pulled himself back to his feet. The advisor did not need an explanation for what happened because he already knew the incident in detail… too much detail.

Brushing the wrinkles out of his tunic, he turned to Erestor with a determined nod. “Let’s go inside,” he said.

The elf gave him a wary look, unsure if entering the house would bring back more bad memories, but Aragorn gave him a light push and directed him towards the entrance.

“We don’t have much time. Legolas’ life depends on me. I cannot fail him,” the man said, more to encourage himself than to inform Erestor.

TBC...