Chapter 34

The Twisted Tree Falls

June 5

Near Rohan's Southeastern Border

Elladan’s hair was drenched from the flooded tunnels and it hung in thick strands; a minor cut at his temple was bleeding a crooked trail down the wet tracks on his face. He whipped his head around to see his brother come up behind him in the passage.

Elrohir had faired about the same, excepting the cut, and though the sounds of pursuit had now faded, they were discouraged that they had yet to find their brother and Legolas.

"These tunnels go on forever." Elrohir breathed in frustration as he came up next to his brother.

"And at the same time, they don't seem to lead anywhere."

"Have we lost them?" Elrohir glanced over his shoulder, his keen ears picking out the sounds echoing in the cave.

"I believe so." Elladan was moving again, trying to find a passage that looked like a promising place to search.

"Have you seen Eression?" Elrohir asked after a moment.

Elladan shook his head absently as he glanced down a dark tunnel to the left. "I think he went another direction."

"Maybe he’s had better fortune than we have," Elrohir pointed out. "Should we turn back?"

Elladan stopped abruptly, he turned a glance back up the tunnel they had just left and sighed. "Perhaps. It's worth a try."

"At least we may find our companion and regroup." Elrohir's voice was hesitant but Elladan again nodded in agreement.

"And we must hasten our search…something is not well in these caverns."

Elrohir knew his brother was not speaking of the ranks of men still hunting for them. It was less tangible than that, but he had felt the same for some time and the feeling of unease had only grown since they had parted ways with Eression.

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Eression's cry echoed eerily in the small cavern, jarring his fall to a halt. He had seen himself lead the twins into the orcs‘ cavern, he had again witnessed their bruised and broken faces when he had returned, he remembered the look of Elrohir, in agony and close to death.

With his already intense guilt the images seemed to come into sharper focus, and they weighed upon his consciousness hard as they weighed upon his soul. Vardnauth's dry, scratchy voice grated on Eression's mind, making him nearly insane with trying to block it out. Often now Eression was aware of Legolas trying to bring an end to the horrific proceedings, but he could not make out the exact words, and Vardnauth seemed to find the elf's anger and frustration amusing and paid him no heed.

Eression felt the elf's fingers twine in his hair and pull him up until he was straining to stay on his knees.

"Here is the end, son of Furnmorth…what do you choose?" Eression shut his eyes, he had no strength left in him to fight and he had no words left to speak. Vardnauth smiled smugly and dropped the man to the ground.

Legolas felt his heart clench as he watched Vardnauth move back to Aragorn. He looked to Eression who was lying unresponsive on the floor and thought desperately of a way to end this.

Vardnauth stretched out a hand to Aragorn, and the man looked to him wearily, but there was still a fire smoldering in his eyes. He was furious at what Vardnauth had done to Eression — he knew how deep some of those wounds went and how long it had taken Eression to set even portions of them aside, and now it was again brought to life.

Legolas thought in desperation of all he knew of this crazed elf, of everything Tindu had told them, of all he had witnessed in that brief strike upon his memory. His attention, however, was suddenly drawn away by a movement on the floor.

Vardnauth's hand slipped along the side of Aragorn's head and the man met his eyes squarely. Vardnauth smiled. "Always a hero, Strider? One must always go down fighting."

"I am not afraid of you, Vardnauth." Aragorn's voice was broken and strained, but the words were clear enough. Vardnauth leered into the king's face and saw the fearless courage reflected in his eyes…but, unfortunately, he suddenly saw something else reflected there as well.

"Foolish Eression." Vardnauth quickly whirled and locked his hands in a stranglehold around Eression's neck — the man had been just behind him, preparing to intervene on his king's behalf. Vardnauth tightened his grip, enjoying the look of surprise and distress in the man's face. "Very foolish."

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Vardnauth drove Eression to the floor his hands had moved from the man's throat to his temple and were pressed hard against his head.

"You have a very slow memory Eression, do you think I have been light on your conscious and kind to your memories? Or did you truly think you could stand between me and your king?" The elf didn't wait for answer before sending Eression's mind reeling into black winds and fog.

Eression started pulling Elladan toward the chamber door. He felt so weak so broken.

Eression reached the door and pulled it open with his free hand.

No…he couldn't look at Aragorn's face…he couldn’t block out his voice…

"Elladan…"

"No…" Eression moaned as the memories pounded pain on his mind making him fit to go insane.

"Remember the betrayal in his eyes." Vardnauth's voice was sticky and suffocating in Eression's head.

Aragorn was weeping, weeping over his brother and it only got louder and sharper in his ears.

He couldn't pull his eyes away from the broken bodies, it was hard enough to see, but the knowledge that he had in caused it was impossible to bear.

"Don't listen Eression!" Legolas shouted, his voice desperate to reach the man's soul. "Don't hear!"

But Eression couldn't resist it. The memories rushed on, channeled as if through a tunnel… Vardnauth took them, read them without pause, and then shoved them back to meet Eression, sharper, clearer, with details he couldn't even remember having seen.

Vardnauth's laugh drowned out Legolas' voice as it echoed in Eression's mind as well as his ears.

"Time to die Eression. What shame with which to part the world."

And with a horrible blow of pain Eression felt the emotions, images and memories break upon his mind until he was drowned in them, suffocated under their weight…he blacked out almost immediately and so did not witness Vardnauth being thrown back from him by an unseen force.

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Elladan rose up from where he had crouched beside Eression in order to knock his attacker from him. When they had reached the chamber at last, it was after hearing much of the horrific noise coming from the room. The two elves had raced up the passage with the sounds of Vardnauth's oppressive words and Eression's screams, they had gathered much of what had happened and entering the chamber had only confirmed their beliefs.

Elrohir crouched down beside Eression as Elladan rose and the younger twin quickly groped for a pulse, fearing that the man had perished in his valiant attempt to save their brother.

Elladan was pumping with rage and when Vardnauth recovered from the initial attack, the twin was already running for him. Vardnauth drew out his knife and met Elladan's blade, albeit rather clumsily. The evil elf had not expected any more interruptions such as this and he cursed himself now for letting his guard down and assuming the Black Numanorean had been alone. He certainly would not have expected to find him in the company of the two elven lords. Especially not after the memories he had just been sifting.

Elrohir placed his hands on Eression’s head and tried to grasp the man's consciousness; it was a difficult task, even for an elf, and even once the connection was made it was weak, but Elrohir had learned his father's ways well and Eression's mind was so broken open he could not even unconsciously resist the elf's intrusion.

Elladan fought with a force fueled by rage and it was possibly this alone that saved Vardnauth. Elladan was too blinded by anger at finding Aragorn in an obviously weakened state and, to his own shock, he found discovering Eression so gave him no pleasure. Especially knowing what the man had attempted to do.

Vardnauth met the blade again and again but it was clear that he would never win the fight against the enraged warrior. He wished now that he had killed the Gondorian king long ago, and he refused to let that chance slip from him again. He would not let this elf stand the way of his victory.

Elladan backed Vardnauth into a corner, looking for a chance to run him through. Unfortunately, in doing so he was paying little attention to defending himself. He drove his blade towards Vardnauth's heart but the blade was thrown off, imbedding instead into his shoulder. Vardnauth's blade however ducked low enough to reach the elf's gut and he jabbed quickly up between the twin's ribs. Elladan let out a gasp of surprise, clutching his own blade where it had pierced Vardnauth's shoulder and trying hard to plunge it deeper into the wound, but in response Vardnauth shoved his own blade deeper. Elladan cried out.

"Elladan!" Aragorn's voice cracked as he tried to scream his brother's name, cursing his helplessness and the way this ordeal was spiraling out of control.

Elrohir was still crouching on the floor and looked horrified as the dagger was wrenched from his brother's wound, but he could not leave Eression — the man was slipping away fast, only held to the world of the living by Elrohir's ministrations.

Elladan fell back against the wall and slid slowly to the floor; he was breathing heavily and was unable to resist when Vardnauth clubbed him hard over the head. For a moment Elladan nearly blacked out, blood ran now from two cuts on his head and he had to try hard to maintain a grip on his consciousness.

Vardnauth looked into his pain glazed eyes. "You stay right here…there will be time for you later."

Elladan wanted nothing better than to rip the elf's head off but when he moved pain lanced between his temples and he had to grit his teeth to hold back a cry.

Vardnauth stood and walked to the center of the chamber. He could not believe his fortune, the King of Gondor, the Prince of Mirkwood, the last of the Black Numonorean line and the sons of Elrond in his possession. In his power.

It was perhaps then, as he walked idly back towards Aragorn, his mind consumed with the relished deaths of each captive, that Vardnauth made his first mistake.

He reached Aragorn, but instead of killing the man as he had intended, he first took pleasure in cleaning his blade on Aragorn's right arm. The elven blood smeared the leather material and Aragorn winced as the smell of it reached him. He hadn't moved his eyes from Elladan since the elf had fallen and he felt himself flounder under his emotions. He knew that when Vardnauth at last decided to end him, he would not be able to hold out long.

"That shall be your pleasure then?" The soft voice startled everyone in the room and Aragorn at last pulled his gaze away from Elladan to look at Legolas. There was something strange in the elf's eyes, something clear and assured. Something that burned with an indomitable energy. It drew Vardnauth's attention as well and he paused as he listened to the Prince's words. "To kill each of us, one by one, until you have satisfied your desire for death." Legolas smiled grimly. "Do you think any of us are afraid of death? Do you think that I am? I have looked death in the face for the sake of myself and for my friends, I have seen it many times and I know it for what it is. Why then do you think that fear of memories long forgotten should bring about death?" Legolas didn't wait long for an answer but replied himself, almost as if he had head the answer from Vardnauth's mind. "Oh I am certain you have seen it done, I am sure you have seen the suffering and you congratulate yourself that kings and minions fall with only the fear of the past to keep their company. But if we die here today, even with our most painful thoughts in our minds, you have come nowhere close to breaking the loyalty that binds myself and my brothers together. You can't find the root of it, you can't tap into its strength, you can only convince yourself that it was broken before the end." Legolas smiled again and shook his head. "You shall never break that bond in me."

It was a challenge. It was a challenge that the prince was certain, beyond any shadow of doubt that Vardnauth, who at his root was a prideful and over-confident being, would be unable to resist.

Vardnauth's smile was fixed and strained. It was clear that the words had rung true in his black heart and he as he moved towards Legolas and away from Aragorn, there was only contempt for the elf and longing to subdue the energy in the elf's brilliant gaze.

"Indeed, my young friend?" Vardnauth's cold lips barely moved with the words as they were hissed between his teeth. "You believe that is true? Let me assure you, I am more than convinced that you will regret your words, and more than convinced that once that bond is broken you will wish it gone after the pain it brings you."

Legolas only smiled, which was likely the most infuriating thing he could have done.

Vardnauth lunged at the Prince even as Aragorn was calling out his friend's name. The dark elf clamped his hands on Legolas temples determined to break that will and obvious strength.

Aragorn felt helplessness fill him again, he had hoped that Legolas might be spared, but as usual his friend had been unwilling to allow anyone to die before his eyes, not if he felt he could prevent it.

However through Aragorn's painful concern he felt something like an assurance come from his friend… a plea to trust him… And Aragorn did trust Legolas, more than anything. So he kept his gaze riveted on his friend as Vardnauth tightened his hold.

Legolas felt himself plunged into old memories as the blackness formed into a tunnel and Vardnauth began his excruciating work. The elf reeled at the sheer weight of all he was forced to witness once more. The pain ate at his mind tightening until it throbbed uncontrollably. He saw death, he saw painful life, he watched torture, relived heartache, heard condemnation, lies, hate, things he regretted more than anything pounded at his mind, but he refused to focus on it, he refused to let the maelstrom of feeling and emotion take him.

He focused on the tunnel…the tunnel connecting his mind to Vardnauth's.

The dark elf moved from memory to memory, trying to find which ones would do the most damage, which ones would make Legolas resent his love for Aragorn, his respect for Eression, his loyalty to the twins, he moved without pattern or thought, completely unaware of Legolas' intentions as the prince concentrated on the strange, forced bond.

Even as Vardnauth tried to force him to remember the pain and hurt he'd endured, Legolas remembered the joy and love and comfort. His memories clashed and fell away as Legolas moved down the tunnel-like connection, and groped into Vardnauth's thoughts.

The elf was virtually unaware of the intrusion and so preoccupied was he with destroying Legolas that he didn't feel it until it was too late. Legolas burned under the power of loyalty, honor, hope, trust, love and assurance. It supported him and filled him, and as it filled him, it filled Vardnauth, it churned up all the buried thoughts in the dark elf against his will.

With what had seemed like endless hours of nothing to do except watch Vardnauth go about his macabre work, a thought had occurred to Legolas. The dark elf had spent years feasting upon the deepest, most painful memories of other, and yet, knowing his history, he had none of the bonds of truth that held Legolas secure against his own past. And with such a heavy load carried in his twisted heart, could he not be crushed by them? As the memories rose up, Legolas realized he was right.

It was like an electric charge, memories familiar and foreign filled them both at once, but Legolas only witnessed the storms of feelings from a distance as he moved back to his own mind.

Vardnauth screamed, trying to close off the tunnel to Legolas, but Legolas was forcing it open, fueling the churning emotions and feelings and memories that seared Vardnauth's mind. Legolas saw people dying and hurting and crying and screaming, a maelstrom of the darkest, most foul, most heart-breaking memories known to men or elves — yet, thought he heard things and felt things, it was not as Vardnauth felt them. With nothing to suppress it or to rise above it, Vardnauth could only fall.

After several moments Legolas allowed the connection to be broken. Vardnauth's wild eyes constricted in pain as he released his grip on Legolas and fell to the ground. He clawed at the ground, his pale fingers groping for rescue. Echoes of stolen memories tore through him in his final moments until he finally surrendered to their weight.

He let out a single gasping breath of surprise before he stilled forever.

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Gimli was almost crawling now. His legs had given out sooner than he would have liked and his knees couldn't take the pressure much longer.

He had made it inside the walls of Kopairin, but dusk had already fallen and so far he had not met with a single person.

He was dragging his hurting body between plants now. He hoped was not someone's garden, but it smelled suspiciously like one.

The dwarf had been trying hard not to think about what might be happening to his friends at this moment and concentrated instead on pulling himself over the tomato plants he was pretending weren't there.

He got a few more feet before his arms started shaking, and finally he collapsed next to a row of carrots.

Maybe I could lay here for a moment. Someone will come soon…they must!

The thought of rest sounded so tempting that Gimli felt his eyes closing.

"Mama will be mad if she finds out what you did to her garden."

The voice was like an unpleasant shock of lightening that caused Gimli's eyes to come open immediately.

What he saw before him was the sideways view of a pair of skinny legs, some soft leather shoes, and something that was probably the hem of a skirt.

Gimli rolled onto his back and looked up into the face of a little girl. She had two hands on her hips and (though the light had gone very dim) he could make out a very disapproving yet intrigued look on her face.

"Are you a dwarf?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I am," he managed to say.

"A real dwarf?" Her expression stated plainly that she doubted it.

"Yes, yes a real dwarf, my name is Gimli." The dwarf suddenly felt the urgency of the situation. "Could you please go find your mother and ask her to come and speak with me? Tell her it is most urgent."

"Mama's gonna be mad when she sees her tomato plants," the girl re-emphasized knowledgably.

"I understand, but I really must speak with her immediately. Tell her…" Gimli frowned before finally plowing onwards. "Tell her it concerns the King of Gondor." The dwarf wondered if he should have told her that, before deciding it probably wouldn't make much difference.

The child let out a sigh before turning and walking up a walkway that led to the back door of a house.

Gimli breathed heavily and could only hope the little scamp would do as she was told.

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"Mama there's a dwarf in the garden," Feinalpha stated matter-of-factly as she hopped up on a bench next to the kitchen table.

Saravesse was paring the peels off potatoes and only nodded briefly at her daughter before turning back to her husband.

"Val, it is very strange…don't you think?" She asked hesitantly, as if she were afraid he wouldn't agree.

"Oh, I agree," Valihondo nodded as he glanced down at the fish he was gutting. "That's why I waited so long to tell you."

"He flattened your tomato plants." No one minded Fein.

"Perhaps he meant another Strider." Sara smiled almost vacuously causing Valihondo to laugh.

"It's not a terribly common name, dearest."

Fein picked at a corner of the table. "He said his name is Gim…or something."

"Maybe you heard wrong?” Sara wondered.

"No, I am sure."

"Well did you ever think the dwarf might have been lying?"

"He's lying in your carrot bed!"

"No he was not lying; you know I am usually good at reading people."

"I won't argue that but…Val, the king?"

"The king of Gondor!" Fein proclaimed happily, always happy when she could add something to a conversation she couldn't understand.

Both her parents turned to her with surprised looks on their faces.

"What about the King of Gondor, Fein?" Valihondo asked perplexedly.

Fein glanced from one adult to the other, pleased with the attention. "The dwarf in the garden said that he concerned the King of Gondor and had to speak to mama a…a meddle tea and then he smashed your carrots!"

Not everything the girl had said made complete sense to Valihondo, but a few things stood out quite well.

He quickly moved past his daughter and ran to the back door.