Chapter Ten

Aragorn woke with a start, not sure what had brought him to consciousness so abruptly.

Whenever he woke normally, his mind was sometimes a bit foggy, especially if he had been tired and had slept long or soundly. However, whenever he was awakened by something external, his ranger training brought his mind into sharp focus and his body to full alert immediately. Such was the case now.

He sat up quickly and held very still, listening for any sound that might tell him what had interrupted his sleep. No sound reached his straining ears.

After a few moments of total silence, the man shook his head. He was sure that something had awakened him, but there was nothing now that would account for it. Had it been a dream? He couldn’t remember having one.

Aragorn then turned his attention to Legolas. He looked down at his friend. The elf was lying just as Aragorn had last seen him, and thank the Valar, he was still asleep. Whatever had awoken him had not disturbed the elf.

The man watched the steady rise and fall of Legolas’s chest and reassured himself that the elven archer was getting the rest he desperately needed. Every moment that he slept was a moment closer to his recovery.

Aragorn reached down and ran his fingertips lightly over the elf’s exposed temple and across his soft golden hair. A smile lifted the corners of the ranger’s mouth. “Sleep, mellon nin,” he murmured.

Aragorn didn’t know how many times or for how long he had looked at the surrounding stone walls without gaining even a clue as to how he and Legolas could gain their freedom. It almost brought a scream of frustration from the man.

Time seemed to crawl, because in this closed-in stone ‘vault‘, there was no way to judge how much time had passed since they had been imprisoned here. Well, he suddenly realized, that wasn’t entirely true. On closer inspection, Aragorn noted that the torch on the wall was burning lower than it had when first they arrived. That was not a good thing.

He knew roughly how long a torch would last, given its size and the amount of pitch it would hold. But here, he didn’t know when the torch had been lit to begin with, but he felt they had been here several hours, perhaps all night.

It was a puzzle he didn’t intend on spending too much time contemplating, since he couldn’t do anything about it anyway. He only hoped that it would still be burning when Legolas woke up. Being deep underground surrounded by all this stone would be hard enough on the wood elf without having him wake to total darkness.

Aragorn leaned against the cool stone at his back. His mind was full of questions and speculation. He had so few facts to go on that even thinking about all the possibilities was an exercise in futility. Yet, what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t go back to sleep. That he was sure of. Staring blankly at the walls wasn’t an option either. The situation he found himself and Legolas in was hardly conducive to peace of mind.

He had to think through all that had happened from the moment they had been captured by Grath and his men up to now. Perhaps something would come to him, something he hadn’t noticed before or that hadn’t seemed important at the time. At the least, he would have some ideas to discuss with Legolas, when the elf woke up.

One thought after another, mostly in the form of questions, came to the ranger. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that nothing useful was coming to him. Stubborn as he was, he kept at it. He wished that Legolas was awake to talk to, but there was no way he would wake the elf, even if he slept for another full day.

No sooner had that thought entered the man’s head than he heard a noise at the door. The distinct sound of a key was quickly followed by the sound of the lock turning. Several seconds later the heavy iron door swung open, admitting two of the guards who had brought the two friends down here.

In their hands were two small trays. This was presumably their evening meal, though even in this timeless place, it seemed a bit late to be eating. “Ah well,’ he thought, ’food is food whenever it shows up’. He also realized that he’d better take advantage of the offer, because next to freedom the one thing that always seemed to be taken away first was something to eat. Aragorn wasn’t sure what kind of food they were being fed, but his stomach was telling him it wanted something put in it, and it wasn’t particular what.

Aragorn looked past the guards with the trays and saw the other two standing silently in the passageway. There wasn’t going to be any chances taken for the prisoners to escape past the ones inside.

The ranger looked back at the guards walking toward the rear wall. They placed the trays on the bench near Legolas’s feet.

“At least we won’t be left to starve,” the ranger muttered.

Neither guard commented.

“Is it still evening, or is it morning?”

There was still no reply.

“Do you have orders not to talk to prisoners?” He had hoped that he could engage at least one of them in conversation and maybe learn something useful. When no response came, Aragorn decided that that was probably the reason there was not going to be any talking.

The two guards never looked at the ranger or even the sleeping elf. They just completed their task and turned to leave.

“Hey, what about the torch?” the man called out to the retreating backs. “It’s burning low and won’t last long.”

Neither guard broke stride. They walked out the door, this time slamming it behind them and relocking it.

Legolas jumped when the loud noise reverberated off the stone walls, assaulting the elf’s sensitive ears. His half-lidded eyes snapped all the way open, and his head came up.

Aragorn let out a low curse word that would have made a dwarf proud. He scooted over and put his hand on Legolas’s arm, trying to keep him from rising. “It’s all right, Legolas. Go back to sleep.”

The elf shook his head. “What happened?”

“The guards came in to bring us something to eat and then slammed the door when they left. I think they did it deliberately to try and wake you.”

Seeing that Legolas wasn’t going to stay down, Aragorn helped him sit up.

Legolas looked around him, quickly noticing that the room was dimmer. He looked up at the torch.

Aragorn grimaced. Of course, the elf would notice the torch was losing its light. Before Legolas could say anything, Aragorn said, “They didn’t replace it, and it will burn out soon.” He knew how Legolas would take that news, but there was nothing he could do to change it. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize for that which you have not done wrong, Estel. I have told you this many times.” He understood that the man was not apologizing for himself but for the situation. Still, Legolas hated for his friend to feel the need to apologize for anything.

He tried to offer a smile to reassure the ranger that it was well with him, but the thought of soon being in total darkness made the result less than what he intended, so he tried more words. “We are together, Estel, and that is the important thing. We could be in separate cells, cut off from each other.”

Aragorn dreaded the very thought of that. He smiled, knowing that there was no way Legolas was going to admit that the impending darkness here in this place of stone would unsettle him, so he wisely changed the subject. “How are your wounds?”

The elf hesitated a moment, as he took stock of his injured shoulder. “A little sore.” He reached his right hand around and felt under the bandage but could reach only the top wound, which was the more minor of the two. It was close to being completely gone. He was sure that the one that had been cauterized was not too far behind. “They will be healed soon,” he declared with confidence.

Staring into Legolas’s blue-gray eyes told the ranger that the elf was probably telling the truth. When it came to the proud elf’s injuries, it was often hard to tell. He chose not to show mistrust by checking for himself and since there was no evidence to the contrary, Aragorn decided to accept the elf‘s declaration of well-being. With a grin on his face, the man said, “Good, then let’s see what kind of food they give prisoners around here.”

Aragorn got up and walked around to where the two trays sat at the end of the stone bench to Legolas’s left. He leaned close and peered at the plates. “Doesn’t look bad,” he finally pronounced. “There’s an apple, some cheese and a piece of bread. It all seems to be fresh.” He sniffed at the cheese to confirm his statement. Looking into the cup next to the plate, he added, “And water.” He turned to the elf and smiled. “We’ve certainly had worse.”

Sitting down on Legolas’s left, Aragorn picked up one of the trays and set it on the elf’s lap. “Eat,” he commanded with a tone that brooked no argument. Aragorn was happy to see the elf pick up the cheese, wrap the bread around it and begin eating. He eagerly did the same.

Neither spoke as they consumed the meal. It hadn’t been a great deal of food, but it was enough to satisfy them.

When they were finished, Aragorn took the empty plates and stacked them together on top of both trays. He carried then over to the door and set them down on the floor beside it.

He had no sooner sat back down next to Legolas than they heard a single muffled booming noise penetrate through the stone above their heads, causing a vibration that sent a shower of fine stone dust drifting down from the ceiling several feet in front of the bench.

Both elf and man looked up and stared at the ceiling.

“What was that?” Legolas asked. “It sounded as if someone stomped on the floor above us.”

“That,” the man said, “is what woke me up earlier.” For some reason he was sure that that had been the sound he had heard in his sleep, though he didn’t think it had been this loud, because there had been no stone dust that time. “As for what made it, I have no idea.”

The sound came again, slightly louder this time. More dust fell.

“Well whoever it is had better stop or they will bring the rock down upon us.” The elf couldn’t be sure how accurate that assessment was, since he didn’t know how thick the rock above them was. Common sense told him it was probably substantial, so whoever could bring down stone dust was obviously powerful.

Legolas and Aragorn sat together and listened intently but heard no further disturbance. The two looked at each other and shrugged.

A few minutes later the guards returned. This time three of them came into the room while one remained out in the hall. It didn’t take three guards to pick up the food trays and carry them away, so both friends suddenly had a bad feeling about what it might mean.

While one guard did pick up the trays, the other two walked over to where Aragorn sat. Reaching down, they grabbed him by both arms, roughly pulled him to his feet and started toward the door with him.

The man tried ot struggle, but he was hampered by the vise-like grips the guards had on him.

Legolas rose up angrily. Swinging the loose sling he had removed from his arm before he ate out of his way, he tired to pry the ranger loose, but he was roughly pushed back down onto the bench.

“Legolas, don’t try to fight them. It’ll only injure you more. I’ll be all right.”

The elven prince watched helplessly, as the guards took Aragorn out of the room. When they were gone, he went to the door and hit his fist against it in frustration and fear for his friend’s well-being. He didn’t know in what condition the ranger would be returned to him, or even if he would be returned. That last thought was quickly pushed aside. After all, hadn’t they just been fed? The elf clung to the idea that such would not have been the case if.... He shook his head and leaned his forehead against the door. “Come back safely, Estel.”

It was then that the torch decided to die. It sputtered a few seconds, sparked to life a brief moment before going out again, this time for good. “Oh great. Just what I needed,” the elf stated, mimicking what Aragorn often said when the opposite was usually true. Legolas was certainly not afraid of the dark, but in a place like this, which too closely resembled a cave - or a tomb - it helped the nerves to have light.

The archer made his way back to the bench and sat down, sighing heavily. There was nothing to do but wait for Aragorn to return. He hoped, but didn’t really believe, that the guards would bring a new torch with them when they brought the man back. Time would tell.

*~*~*~*

Aragorn was taken back the way he and Legolas had come when they were first brought down here. The guards didn’t push or pull him but kept moving at a steady pace, however, their grip on his arms never lessened even a fraction.

Whenever one of the guards holding Aragorn was required to produce the key for whichever door they arrived at, another guard would take the man’s arm. At no time was he free, even for a second. One guard always stood behind, ready to stop any attempt the prisoner might make to run, even though there was nowhere he could go. All the doors before and behind him were locked.

When they reached the level of the main floor, the guards led Aragorn to a small circular stairway.

The area they were in was somewhat cramped with no light other than torches placed at the same point at every complete circle in the stairs.

The width of the steps was so narrow that they would accommodate only one person at a time and since the guards would not let go of Aragorn, they all had to travel with each one on a different step. It was all so awkward that the ranger’s arms were painfully held all the way up.

The ranger was relieved when they finally reached the top. Another door that had to be unlocked greeted them, but the man soon found himself in a long wide, corridor. It was richly decorated with tapestries, paintings and carved wooden tables lining the sides. Here there were no torches, but finely crafted chandeliers that hung from a ceiling painted gold and while.

As they proceeded down the hallway, Aragorn’s searching eyes found a note of discord in all this finery. On the tables and in small alcoves along the walls were black statues of what could only be described as demons or perhaps just deformed beings that suggested such. They were hideous to behold, and he looked away from them, forcing himself not to shiver.

The guards brought Aragorn to a stop in front of a set of double doors. Both swung open, revealing Allaura, a wide smile, though hardly a warm one, on her face.

The woman nodded to the guards, who released Aragorn. None of them moved away until Allarua stepped forward, took the ranger by the arm and pulled him inside, pushing the doors closed with her free hand. She led Aragorn deeper into the room. “The guards will remain in the hall.”

Aragorn didn’t doubt it. He had assumed they would remain nearby. They had been too careful bringing him here to just leave the area unguarded. He gently rubbed both of his arms, where he was sure bruises would soon be evident.

Glancing back at the closed doors, he said, “Those guards don’t speak, do they?” It was a notion that had come to him on the way up. Not that he had continued trying to engage them in conversation on the way up here, but there was just something about them that made him think they were not just being closed mouth to prisoners.

In a totally off-handed way, Allaura said, “Their tongues were cut out.” She turned and looked at the man and with much more intensity. “I do not like unwarranted conversation that might breed, shall we say, rebellion in the ranks.”

“I can’t imagine anyone deliberately crossing you.”

Allaura laughed. “No, but it does not hurt to reduce the temptation to do so.”

Aragorn stared wide-eyed at the woman. “Does not hurt? You cut out their tongues!” He probably should have not said that out loud, but he could hardly take it back now.

To his surprise, Allaura just laughed. “Shall we change subjects?” she asked quietly. There was a note in her voice that said doing so would be prudent.

Aragorn nodded. That was fine with him. “I see you are wearing the necklace and earrings from the painting. Was that on my account?” It sounded arrogant, but he was curious, especially considering their earlier conversation about the jewelry.

“No. But I did leave them on for you.”

The ranger wasn’t sure he liked the way she said that.

TBC