Chapter 33

A Fight Without Swords

June 5

Near Rohan's Southeastern Border

No matter how many times Aragorn had tended his best friend's wounds, it was hard for him to see Legolas like this. The elf prince was extremely pale and very weak. He looked so incredibly vulnerable.

Aragorn's eyes opened suddenly and his gaze was met by Vardnauth. The elf had a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Oh this memory is familiar…painfully familiar. How was it then, Strider? How do you remember it?"

Aragorn resisted the memory as hard as he could, but he knew it was no use — he was helpless to keep it from coming, and come it did, leaping forward so suddenly that he winced.

"What is the matter? It's getting worse." Thranduil's voice panicked, strained.

"I don't know." His own voice, young, scared.

"Aragorn!"

Thranduil's call brought the image into sharp, painful focus, Legolas was suddenly clear in front of him.

Aragorn tried to resist the memory at the same time that he was there, in that grove, once again wishing he could stop this from happening… but it was as though his sluggish mind could not place what had been the error that had cost Legolas so dearly.

"Estel, poison."

Elrond. His voice was breathless and offered Aragorn no reassurance.

Vardnauth's voice crackled into being once more, throbbing against Aragorn's temple.

"What then? What pain and failure found you then?"

"Don't let him die!"

Thranduil's words shook Aragorn back into the memory and he felt the pang of his heart as though Thranduil was really standing before him.

"Estel... Ada..." Legolas' voice was so weak, so distant.

"He's dying, Estel."

Elrond did not deny it. He could not deny it!

"He is not! You are healers, do something!"

Do something! What could he do? Aragorn felt hot tears well up in his eyes at the words.

"I-I am trying, I don't know what else to do... I'm sorry. Forgive me, forgive me! Legolas..."

The words spilled from his mind and before Aragorn knew what he was saying he was fairly screaming them aloud, the words echoed in the cavern and rattled back again. He tried to block them out, imagining his hands clapped over his ears like a small boy afraid of night sounds, but it was impossible.

Legolas was dying, dying and there was nothing he could do!

"Legolas!" Aragorn screamed as he watched his friend's last moments before he faded from the world.

"Stop!" A louder, stronger voice cut suddenly through the madness and Vardnauth pulled away.

Aragorn gasped as the memory disappeared, leaving only a ashy shadow of itself.

"Stop this," Legolas repeated, his eyes blazing with a dangerous fire, yet there were tears in his eyes. He had never realized until this moment just how hard his near death at the hands of Guruth and his wargs had hit Aragorn, and to see his friend forced to relive that pain had finally shattered his silence.

Vardnauth was smiling slightly, irritated at being interrupted, and yet seemingly amused by Legolas' orders.

"Why do young, foolish heroes think they can speak those words and have them obeyed despite their position? Do the ways of this world bow to them differently than to the rest of is? Or is it just arrogance."

Vardnauth was standing in front of Legolas now and his rhetorical questions mocked the desperation seething in Legolas' heart.

"Touch him again and you will not live to see nightfall this day," Legolas promised, his voice soft but firm.

For a moment Vardnauth only stared at him, as though testing to see whether Legolas truly believed the words or not. Finally he gave a short nod and his smile faded altogether. "Perhaps I will not, but neither will young Strider."

The dark elf turned his gaze on Aragorn who was still trying to regain himself from the emotional and physical attack he had just withstood. "Look at him, Legolas, do you see the weakness? Mortals were not made to hold up against our kind. Why do you think Ilúvatar gave them death as an easy escape? When the years they consider long are lived out they can escape the shame of their pathetic existence. The mocking of our noble race have beat them harder than they know…" Vardnauth trailed off and a look of terrifying delight spread over his face. He smiled as though something previously unconsidered had just occurred to him and he moved slowly back towards Aragorn. "So maybe you will tell me, mortal one…why would one of our kind choose such a disgraceful path? Why would the Evanstar choose thus?" With these words Vardnauth reached into his tunic and drew out something that took Aragaorn's breath away in a moment.

Glowing as a gem in the night sky and nearly humming with its radiance, the Evenstar dangled from its chain held between Vardnauth's lithe fingers.

Aragorn felt his heart clench painfully. He was deathly afraid of what Vardnauth would do next.

"But surely the answers are there, Strider…surely your mind will tell the tale…perhaps you have lived long enough — long enough for this memory to be your last."

The elf's final words were nearly cut off as Aragorn was forced once more into the blinding pain of past and memory, harsher, harder and more deadly than before.

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It was a scream, Eression was certain of it, and the sound of pain gave him such a start he nearly gave his presence away to the two guards who sat idly near their post. Obviously they took the screaming as a sign that there leader would not take them unawares any time soon.

The ranger watched them closely, trying to block out the reoccurring sounds of distress that issued from the dark passage behind the two men.

They were speaking in low tones, and sometimes when they heard the sounds from the chamber beyond they would laugh — now nervously, now mockingly — and both sounds utterly disgusted Eression.

The man moved closer, taking quiet steps as he neared the passage. His last thought was his hope that Elladan and Elrohir would find this place soon as he did not know how well he would hold up against the enemies that awaited him, but he also remembered what Elladan had told them to do outside the cave and that set him to his task with a vengeance.

The two guards never even heard him coming

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She was so pale, so cold beneath his touch.

"Arwen. Koiva, meleth-nin."

The shock and the pain were so vivid it made it difficult to breathe.

"I heard it strike!"

Her voice was hurting, frightened, oh how he wished he could make it stop.

"Estel…? The children?"

What could he say, what could he do? Aragorn had been so afraid of this, so afraid that one day, in the most dire moment he would not be by her side when she needed him.

"And why should you be there?" A voice purred into the dark, a voice that had no place here in Aragorn's memories. "How could someone so weak, so undeniably mortal make a difference in an immortal life. In the end you know she will die, but the cold selfishness in your heart denies this. You constantly remind yourself that it was her choice…that you did all you could."

A sneering laugh followed this last and Aragorn felt a sudden jolt of pain as he was forced to look into the face of his pale, deathly ill wife.

Arwen had wept beneath his ministrations when they sat in the room alone, while he silently prayed that they would find the herb they needed in time, and all the while the guilt had consumed him; it was thick, potent, and suffocating.

"You know why she chose you though, don't you Strider?"

Aragorn resisted the voice, he didn't like the way Vardnauth was pushing him, a direction he could not deny that he avoided considering as much as possible.

"No…I will not contradict what is obvious. It was love. It was a blind, blissful, joyous emotion that drove her to your side, and you were the only one with the power to turn her back. She would not have made such a decision if you had not made clear your love for her."

Aragorn felt his heart clench and tightened his shut eyes. He struggled to find himself outside of the fog Vardnauth had conjured. Somewhere beyond this tangle of memories was reality… his own body, still breathing… Legolas watching him anxiously…

"Oh…you resist do you?" Vardnauth seemed amused. "But it is here in your mind Strider, you know it is. These are your own thoughts I voice, and you don't want to hear them…you don't want to feel them!"

With sudden force Aragorn felt the elf's fingers press hard against his skull, ripping unbearable pain through his head. The images were vivid, painful, real… distorted by shock and confusion they seemed to tear sanity from his grasp, leaving him staggering amidst the whirlwind, vulnerable as the elf pried into his mind and heart like a growing cancer.

He saw Arwen. He was losing her — his most desperate attempts had made no difference in the end. She was dying and it was his fault.

He tried to remember what Legolas had told him, that night when his grief had consumed him. He tried as hard as he could to recall the words, but Vardnauth refused to let him, instead feeding him Legolas' words of the deadly viper that had poisoned his wife.

Aragorn was breathing, panting against the pain and emotion. Through his blurred eyes he could see Arwen's pendant hanging around Vardnauth's neck, and in grotesque contrast to the white gems: the eyes of that leered at him, pleased to see his pain.

"You know how many fools I have sent to their graves with regret engraved on their hearts?" Vardnauth's voice was low, carrying a tenor like distant thunder. "So many. They try to hide it and they do it well: they can keep secrets from the world, from their family and friends! But they cannot hide it from me. You cannot hide from me, Strider. Your regrets and guilt are so obvious I could read them through your eyes. Does it bring you any relief to know that you won't have to see her die, that you won't have to see your friend die? That you won't have to see your children— "

"Stop!" Aragorn voice rose so suddenly that Vardnauth's grip lessened, if only slightly. "You can torment me with memories that I would forget!" Aragorn fairly screamed, drowning out the rattling pain in his chest beneath his brave words. "But regret is not all I will take with me. You will not have another victory off which to feed when I am gone, and know that your abilities for pain and your hunger to use them will be judged fairly when at last your soul passes to Mandos!"

Aragorn breathed slowed as he clenched his teeth and looked his enemy straight in the eye. The man was aware of Legolas' silent presence nearby and it gave him courage.

Vardnauth said nothing, his cold eyes boring into Aragorn with such fierce hatred that it would have broken a lesser man, but Aragorn was no such man and he met the gaze full on, the truth of every word he had said was frighteningly clear in his face.

"If you are so certain that you will not be alone in your regrets." Vardnauth's voice was livid and his tone shook as the words were spoken between his teeth. "Then I shall take pleasure in proving your wrong…your death has come, Strider, and I shall be certain that you feel it in every passage of your heart, every track in your mind — that you will beg me to end it and whisper curses to the ones you love, for, if not for their pain, you would not feel this death as you will now."

The agony was so sudden, so unexpected that it took every ounce of strength Aragorn had left to keep from crying out immediately. He could hear Legolas speaking, screaming… the sound came in distorting ripples from the room into his own head and he knew that his friend was dying again.

He saw Arwen's cold face, he felt Legolas' lifeless hands beneath his own, he heard echoes of dead voices and whispers of more to come, he heard screams and shouts and desperate cries of his name. He heard it in Legolas, in Arwen, in Eldarion, in Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond — they sounded terrified and hurting, he couldn't make it end, there were too many, how could he help them all?

Aragorn knew he was screaming aloud now; he hoped he was not speaking, hoped Legolas would never know all the things that were tormenting him at this moment, the moment when he felt death come.

It was moving ever closer, a black cloud that slowly began to drown out the sounds and scenes and flashes of color and tremors of emotion. And it was relief Aragorn felt, a joy to be released from the pain, but he felt himself fighting it even so…fighting not to leave Legolas here alone, to leave his wife or his children, to the people who depended on him to lead them.

A shout.

Someone had shouted, someone that hadn't been Aragorn and hadn't been the memorable echoes around him.

Then all at once the pain receded, Vardnauth's hands moved from Aragorn's temples and the room came into sharp painful focus. Aragorn realized that someone was standing in front of him, someone who had managed to move between Vardnauth and himself.

The elf was breathing hard and staring with barely concealed rage at the man who had gotten in his way.

It was Eression.

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Vardnauth's eyes bored into the man. How dare anyone intrude on him like that, how dare anyone stand in his way.

Eression had not spoken, he simply stood in front of Aragorn, his sword held in a defensive position in front of him. When he had entered the room there had been no time to think, only time to act. He had no way of knowing what the elf was doing to Aragorn, but he knew that he had to stop it and this seemed the most expedient way.

The silence in the chamber held for a long moment before at last Vardnuath spoke.

"Hello…Eression. Have you come to see the end of your lord?"

Eression tried to hide the shock that this strange elf knew his name and instead returned the sharpened gaze with his own and lifted his sword slightly.

"You shall not touch him again."

Vardnauth laughed at that and stepped closer to Eression. "You are just like these two, so certain that I listen to such demands, but you, Eression, are the one at a disadvantage whatever you may think; you stand between myself and my prey. There are few places more dangerous."

Eression did not reply, but backed up a pace until he was almost touching Aragorn. At this distance he thought he could hear the man speaking, warding him off, but Aragorn seemed to be having trouble forming the words.

"But I am a gracious host." Vardnauth moved closer, knowing full well Eression was in a corner. "I will allow you to move from my sight and I shall refrain from culling your very sanity from you skull. This offer will only be given once, Eression; if you do not take it, it will be your life."

Eression did not move but his eyes easily spoke his defiance.

Vardnauth sighed in mock frustration. Legolas recognized the danger in the expression but did not know what to do. Hating his helplessness, the elf could nothing but watch as Vardnauth lunged at Eression.

The fight was brief, Eression's sword moved quickly to ward off the elf, but the move was clumsy. Eression was worn, had not slept in days and was in no condition to fight Vardnauth.

The elf sidestepped the blow and twisted an agile hand around to grip Eression's wrist, pulling his own dagger from its sheath. Vardnauth brought the blade down against the ranger's arm and cut the man's wrist. Eression winced before dropping the sword, angry with himself for being overtaken that easily. He quickly jerked from Vardnauth's grip, backing up against Aragorn and shielding his king from the elf.

Vardnauth only laughed as his hands slid out towards Eression's head.

"No!" Legolas cried, easily recognizing what Vardnauth had in mind.

Eression was confused and only the unexplainable dread that filled him gave him any warning before he was plunged into a strange sort of dream.

Darkness surrounded him. Darkness and fear.

"Will you have need of me?"

Eression's breath caught. Oh no. Not this.

"Yes, Captain. You and your orcs. No matter how devious in hunting, the Nwelmai can only kill."

The words were fluid but tinny as though drudged up from years of forgotten memories.

Suddenly there was a forest, there were orcs, there were cries and shouts.

"Drop them!"

His own voice. He watched the net fall on the two elves.

"No…" Eression felt pain shoot through his skull as he spoke but Vardnauth did not relent.

Eression knew full well what would happen next, he was surprised and half frightened that the memory was so clear.

He tried to shut his eyes, tried to block it out, but it was as though someone was forcing his head up and he stared into silver eyes much like his own. The ranger who stood above him was horrified at the scene and Eression could only hate the calloused feelings which welled alarmingly into his heart as the orcs dragged the two elven prisoners away.

"You knew well what doom you drove them to, you had seen the lairs of the orcs and their appetites. No doubts dwelled in you as to their fate." Vardnauth's words were sharp and punishing and Eression could not help the slight sob of frustration as his mind was pushed forwards.

"Where are you intending to keep them?"

Eression shuddered.

"On the second level in two of the barracks rooms. I decided that there would be the best place for them"

Eression felt the pain ease slightly as he tried to calm himself…his intentions had been good, he had wanted to keep them from the orcs.

"But what weakness…what a fool." Vardnauth's scratchy words persisted as though coming down an echoing tunnel that connected the two minds.

"I am altering your decision. I grow weary of your orcs causing mischief beneath my tower, Captain Eression."

Eression visibly flinched at the words.

"You will double the current rations and place the prisoners down with your army. Food and amusement; that should accomplish what I desire."

No. No! Eression knew well what would be done to them in those chambers of death.

"Inform the orcs that they may do as they please, but they are forbidden to slay their captives. If they cannot restrain themselves, then one elf can easily do the work of two."

No! Valar help him, Eression found he could not breathe as the words brought back so many memories of compliance and obedience to evil masters. What pain it brought to hear the next words even as Eression fought against the restraints of his own past.

"As you command."

"NO! Stop!" Eression pulled back and was jolted partially out of his semi-conscious state as he knocked full into Aragorn.

To his further surprise Vardnauth complied and relented his hold.

Without the hands holding him up, Eression slid towards the floor. Grasping with numb fingers for some sort of purchase, he felt the folds of Aragorn's coat and came to a slight halt.

"You see how painful defying me can be?" Vardnauth's soft regret sounded macabre in its contradiction of the elf's leering grin. "You know the paths which your mind will follow next and it will not take the slightest amount of control for me to find them. I can read your regrets like an open book. I have seldom met a mind so rife with old nightmares, and now I meet two in one day. Is it really worth standing your ground?"

Eression didn't speak, he couldn't. He turned his gaze over to Legolas, searching desperately for help.

The elf was at a loss and the anxiety spoke through his eyes. Legolas wished for nothing less than to be where Eression was now — he knew the man did not have the strength to withstand Vardnauth, but he was brutally torn since he knew that Aragorn would fall if Vardnauth so decided. From across the room Legolas silently tried to convey encouragement and strength to the Black Numenorean, but he knew in the end there was little he could do.

Eression took what strength he could from the elf's presence before pulling himself to his feet. Aragorn was leaning heavily against his chains, willing his loyal captain to move aside, but Eression would not and after a moment Vardnauth stepped forward again.

"That was your warning Eression; take it now."

Eression didn't reply.

A moment later the cold hands clamped on his either side of his head once more, and he sank into the whirlpool.