Chapter Twelve

Legolas continued to sit, his hand on the ranger’s head, and wait. He looked down from time to time, but there had been no apparent change in the man’s condition, at least none that the elf could discern. Normally that would have been a good thing. Now it was just the opposite.

“Please, Estel, you must come out of this...this thing that has been done to you.” The elf spoke aloud, though his voice was so soft that had there been others in the room, none would have heard him.

Time dragged on, and Legolas’s heart grew more troubled. He tried valiantly to keep the creeping unease at bay, telling himself that it was much too soon to give up on believing the ranger would return to himself.

Something within the elf felt that Aragorn’s unnatural state involved some dark magic, and it was the kind that wasn’t going to be easily overcome. How he would love to have Lord Elrond, Mithrandir and the Lady Galadriel here to combat whatever was wrong with Aragorn. He smiled grimly. No dark magic conjured up by anyone short of the Dark Lord himself could stand against those three, so his friend would be well in short order. But he knew that no such rescue would occur in this awful place.

Still, Legolas knew he would never give up on his friend. If Aragorn woke up unchanged from the man who had been returned, then.... The wood-elf shook off that thought. Until or unless that happened, feeling this way was as much a waste of time, as wishing for the two great elves and the wily wizard to suddenly appear. He would just have to staunchly hold to hope that some way out would be revealed before it was too late.

Legolas was so worried about the ranger that he never even gave a thought to the danger he himself might be in.

Legolas’s resolve began to slip slightly when, after checking the ranger again, the elf found nothing any different than the last dozen times he had searched for a change. Yet he could not just ignore the sleeping ranger, as if nothing were amiss. The elf yearned to find something - anything - that pointed to the fact his friend was going to recover. He found nothing.

Legolas once again leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He began to sing, softly at first. Then his clear, melodic voice rose in a song recalled from an earlier time as a warrior of the woodland realm. The elvish words were those of the resolve to hold on to hope in the face of any and all that might try to destroy those who fought for the good that was in this world.

The blond elf had last sung that song when he and the patrol he was leading were on the verge of a battle with orcs, wargs and giant spiders deep in Mirkwood‘s southern reaches close to Dol Guldur. The odds had been against them, and the song had offered a measure of solace to the patrol members before the impending battle.

They had all fought long and hard and though there had been many wounded elves, himself included, the arrival of another patrol just when things looked their bleakest, had turned the tide in their favor, and the enemy had ultimately been dispatched.

Even as the song and the memory lifted his heart, Legolas knew that he and Aragorn were on their own. Whether they were overmatched beyond deliverance remained to be seen. One thing he was certain of: Before there could be any chance of escape, Aragorn would have to recover.

It took a moment for Legolas to realize that Aragorn had stirred slightly. The song stopped abruptly in mid-sentence.

Legolas was on his knees beside the bench in a flash. “Estel.” he called. No further motion came from the man. “Estel,” the elf called again a little more urgently, as he gently shook the ranger’s shoulder.

The gray eyes opened slowly. For a moment there was nothing in their depths that reflected any kind of awareness. The man was just as he had been the night before, his eyes totally devoid of recognition.

The elf lowered his head, resting it on his right arm, still clutching Aragorn. “Oh, Estel.“ Just before Legolas could sink into despair, he heard the only sound that could have lifted the heaviness of his heart. “Legolas?”

The archer jerked his head up. “Yes, mellon nin. I am here,” His voice reflected his immense relief. He dared not remove his hands from the ranger’s shoulders. He refused to lose contact with Aragorn, afraid that doing so would somehow cause the man to sink back into his world of darkness. And Legolas had no doubt that it was into darkness that Aragorn had been sent.

“Where...?”

“You are back in the vault,” the elf informed the obviously confused man. He would have given anything right then to be able to tell his friend that they were outside in the cool morning air, that they were free. But, of course, he could not.

With Legolas’s help, Aragorn struggled to sit up. He shook his head, trying to loosen the cobwebs that had decided to grow there. “I feel so weak,” Aragorn informed the elf.

Worry creased the space between Legolas’s eyebrows. “What is the last thing you remember?” the archer asked, hoping to gain at least some idea of what they were dealing with. Legolas, who had risen to help Aragorn sit up, now sat down beside the ranger.

“The last thing I remember is being in Allarua’s room, her bed chamber, to be exact. She was showing me the earrings and necklace she wore in the painting. I had admired them when we were first taken to the room where you lay on the sofa.” There was a frown that flickered across the ranger’s face.

The concern in Legolas’s eyes grew more pronounced. “What is it, Estel? Are you in pain?”

“No. I just...” he paused to collect his memories and put them into coherent thoughts. “Allaura held the blue pendant up to my face. I became lost in its beauty. I saw only the blue swirls and sparkles in my eyes. Everything else, even Allaura, faded into the background and then disappeared all together. Until...”

Though anxious to hear more, Legolas waited patiently for the ranger to gather his scattered thoughts and resume relating what he remembered.

Aragorn continued, though somewhat haltingly. “Until I found myself in her bed.“ The realization stunned the man. So did his next revelation. “I was lying in her bed, Legolas, and I kissed her.” He shook his head in disbelief that he had actually done such a thing. “I remember wanting desperately to take her in my arms and kiss her. Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment.” He groaned and couldn’t stop himself from wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, as if the gesture would rid him of the memory. “Legolas, I couldn’t stop myself. I think I may have....”

“Estel, do not blame yourself. You were not thinking clearly.”

“But what if she and I...?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, as a shudder went through his body. It was revolting to him just to think about what he believed he had done. Putting it into words made his stomach tie itself into a knot.

“Estel, she did something to your mind. My guess is she used that necklace to put some kind of spell on you. Your desire was not real.”

“No, but what obviously happened was.”

“You do not know what happened.” After a heartbeat, Legolas added, “Do you?”

“No. I remember nothing until I woke up here just now.” The bewilderment in Aragorn’s mind was unmistakable in his expression.

“So you cannot say for sure what took place.”

“Not really. But I feel dirty. That must account for something.” the ranger said miserably.

“It may be just what she wanted you to believe happened.“

“I don’t think it was just an illusion. What’s the point in that?”

“Who knows. She is evil, Estel. She may just have wanted to play games with your mind.”

“If that’s the case, it worked.”

Legolas had no reply for that. He felt bad for his friend. Nothing that happened was his fault, yet he knew deep down that if their roles had been reversed, he would feel the same way.

Was this the reason they had been brought here? For sex? Surely not. After all, Allaura had a husband, and if he was involved in their being captured in the first place, then Legolas felt there had to be more involved than just seducing Aragorn.

Perhaps Allaura was just trying to make her husband jealous, and it had nothing to do with the reason he and Aragorn were here.

Then another idea came to the elf. What about the necklace? What part did it have to play in all this? It must have some kind of power. It had burned Aragorn, unless he had it all wrong, and something else had done that. The jewel may enhance Allaura’s perceived power, or it could be the sole source. Legolas clearly needed more information.

“Estel, do you remember this happening?” the elf asked suddenly, startling the brooding human, who jerked his head up and blinked.

Aragorn was puzzled, when Legolas reached up and pulled his coat and shirt down off of his right shoulder. The man looked down at the red, puffy spot in surprise.

“No, I don’t know how that got there.” He looked into the blue-gray eyes of the elf next to him. “What could have caused that?”

“I think it was the necklace. Allaura must have needed to touch your skin to do whatever it was she did. Why the burn, I do not know.” Legolas paused for a second. “I think it either put something into you or took something out.” That idea had just occurred to him, as he looked at the red mark more closely, though he had no notion of why that thought had come to him. He wasn’t sure which one would be better, if the word better could even be applied in this case. Whichever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Aragorn was thinking the same thing. “I think maybe it took something out,” he finally said.

“Why do you think so?”

“I’m so weak. I feel as though I’ve been running uphill all day. Surely that would point to being drained in some way.” The man couldn’t help shuddering at the thought. “Of course, I could be suffering from some kind of poison.”

At the mention of that word, Legolas put his hand on Aragorn’s forehead. He took a deep breath, but let it out in a rush when the ranger’s skin was cool to his touch.

“I don’t feel like I have fever,” the healer in the man said helpfully.

Legolas smiled. “No, you do not have fever. Do you have any other symptoms?”

“None that I’ve discovered so far. Just the weakness.”

When Aragorn frowned, the elf thought he was about to reveal something unpleasant he had just realized. “What?”

“It seems lighter in here.” He looked up at the torch. “It isn’t flickering anymore.”

Legolas almost laughed in relief. However, knowing that Aragorn would be upset, if he knew the torch had gone out, and Legolas had been in darkness for several hours, the elf decided not to mention that little bit of information. Instead he just said, “They brought a new torch.”

The man had seen a flicker of something - was it fear? - in Legolas’s eyes. He knew the elf wasn’t going to tell him anything voluntarily, so he asked, “When?”

“It does not matter,” Legolas replied, trying to deflect the man’s curiosity. If he knew when, he would know the truth. “We have a good one now. It should last several more hours.”

The ranger, however, would not be denied. “When did they bring it, Legolas?” The words were spoken sternly.

The elf closed his eyes. “When they brought you back.”

Aragorn nodded. “Just as I suspected. You sat down here alone in the dark the whole time I was gone, didn’t you?”

“I am all right, Estel. You do not have to worry about it. We have light, and that is all that matters.” He stared at his friend, half challenging and half pleading for no further discussion on the subject.

Aragorn realized that pressing the point was - pointless. He just nodded and looked down at the floor. Soon another frown appeared. “There are tiny rocks all over the floor. I’m sure they weren’t here before.” He looked up and saw small round shadows, indicating pits in the formerly smooth stone where the rocks had fallen from. He looked anxious as he asked, “Legolas, did something else happen to cause this?”

“Another loud booming noise and some very strong vibrations. They brought small pebbles down this time, as well as more dust.”

For the first time, Aragorn noticed that there was dust in Legolas’s hair, as well as on his tunic. He reached out and brushed some it off of the elf’s clothes. “Were you standing in the middle of the room?”

“No. I was sitting right here.”

“So it happened after the torch went out. Right?”

The elf looked slightly exasperated. “Estel, I told you I am fine. We are together now in a lighted room.” It was again time to deflect the conversation to another, though related, subject. “Besides, I have a bit of news that I think will surprise you.”

Aragorn recognized the ploy, having seen it many times. Legolas was stubbornly resisting talking about the darkness, so the ranger decided to relent and drop the subject by asking, “What?” He couldn’t begin to imagine what his friend could be talking about. If someone had come to deliver news to Legolas, the elf would surely have mentioned it before now.

As if reading the ranger’s mind, Legolas said, “No one has come to tell me anything, but I have guessed at something. I think I know what is making that noise and bringing dust and pebbles down from the ceiling.” He paused to add to the suspense.

The all-too-familiar ploy worked. “Come on, elf. Tell me,” the human demanded with impatient curiosity.

“I believe Treco is up there.” Legolas turned his eyes upward and then leveled them at the ranger, anxious to see his reaction.

The reaction was just as expected. Aragorn’s eyes widened. “That red dragon we helped? Are you serious?”

“Quite,” was the simple reply.

“What makes you think so? I mean, a dragon down here? How is that even possible? We came down small passageways and four sets of stairs.” He stared at the elf, as if he had grown another head, or lost the one he had.

“I was in the dark and wasn’t distracted by anything else. I listened to the sound. I believe it was the roar of a dragon. It was muffled but louder than before, more distinct. A creature that size could easily loosen tiny rocks and dust. I cannot be positive it belongs to Treco, of course, but that is my guess. There are not that many dragons around anymore.

“As to how he, or anything that large, could get down here, there are probably a lot of entrances we know nothing about in this place. We have not actually seen what is directly above us. We just assumed it is the same as where we are, but thinking so is probably an error on our part.”

Aragorn sat and mulled over what Legolas had just revealed to him. Was such a thing possible? It was true that they didn’t really know what lay over their heads. And such a place as Ravenlore must have all sorts of hidden passages, and the fact that one or more of them could be large enough to accommodate a dragon was perhaps not as farfetched as it seemed. Consider what had just happened to him upstairs while in Allaura’s clutches. He turned that unpleasant thought aside. It would take a long time to get over that, if he ever did.

A familiar light of adventure suddenly lit up the ranger’s face. “How can we find out?”

Legolas didn’t have the chance to answer. A noise outside the room caught his attention. He looked toward the door, simultaneously rising up and standing in front of Aragorn in an attempt to shield him from who the elf was sure was on the other side of the door.

TBC

I want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year. Keep safe, because I want to see every one of you in 2006. And bring some friends!