Thanks to Rinn and Kathira for reviewing!  Both made some comments about Aragorn's current 'situation', and I decided to answer here in case others were thinking the same thing. 

Actually, I did have a location in mind when I wrote this.  My beta and I argued for a while, and neither of us could figure out how far running Orcs would be able to travel in a week.  So, I stared at the map for a while, and I'm going to say they're on the eastern border of the Firien Wood.  They're circling around the Dead Marshes to the south, probably rounding Fangorn Forest then following the Entwade south.  I'm not as familiar with the Firien Wood, but I don't think there'd be too much there.  I may be wrong.  If anyone knows, please tell me; I'm curious.  Everywhere else would be too close to Minas Tirith and Mordor.  I didn't want him to get that far.

And as for who rescued him... you'll have to read on to find out.

The good news is that I'm almost done editing!  Yay!  So that means that I'm back to posting every week!  I didn't think anyone would mind.  *G*  

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!!

Chapter 14

            The forest was quiet, as it should be when Orcs were in the area.  There had been no conversation between the two men, though it did not matter to Aragorn.  His questions would be answered soon enough.

            After no more than fifteen minutes, Aragorn heard the very faint sounds of footfalls coming from the forest.  A man dressed in a dark green cloak stepped from behind a tree and walked swiftly over toward the two men.

            “Greetings, Strider,” the man said.  “My other three companions are close behind and will appear presently.”  He offered Aragorn his hand in greetings, and when Aragorn gripped his wrist, he continued.  “I am called Lourin, and you have already met my kinsman, Amaleg.”  Amaleg nodded his head as he was announced.

            Aragorn was pleased to finally know his rescuers identity, however their names told him very little.  “Please, sirs, tell me what brought you to my aid.”

            Lourin laughed.  “It is possible, I suppose, that you do not know the names of every Ranger of the North!”

            A large grin swept across Aragorn’s face.  “Rangers...” he began but was cut off.

            “How do you always manage to find yourself in so much trouble, little brother?”

            Aragorn was startled by the voice and quickly turned his head, his grin broadening.  Elrohir was leaning against a large tree trunk with his arms folded.  He was wearing his long, silver-gray cloak like he always did when traveling among Rangers.  His face was stern, but his gray eyes twinkled.

            “Elrohir,” Aragorn called as he moved to embrace his Elven foster brother.  “Mae govannen!  This is a very welcomed surprise.  Is Elladan here as well?” His voice was strained, as if his happiness was slightly forced.  Elrohir noticed it at once, but his joy of seeing Aragorn alive allowed him to overlook it.

            “Yes,” the elf said with a small smile.  “He and another are finishing their pursuit of a few Orcs, though I regret to say that the man you were with has evaded us.”

            Aragorn nodded.  “That is well enough, I suppose.”

            “Come,” Elrohir said, taking Aragorn by the shoulder and guiding him to a clear area.  “Rest for a while.  Your time with Saruman has left you weary.”

            “You know of his betrayal then?” Aragorn asked, slightly confused.

            “We were not told directly, but the pieces fit together easily enough,” Elrohir said as he began to empty herbs and ointment from his pack.  “When Elladan returns you will need to tell us exactly what was done to you.  It will make healing much easier.”

            Aragorn nodded and relaxed as best he could, though his old injuries still bothered him.  He made light conversation with Lourin and Amaleg, telling them a little about childhood in Rivendell.        

            Elrohir smiled slightly as Aragorn skillfully kept the talk away from his ancestry and focused more on childhood antics.  But there was something different about the man’s tone of voice.  It was darker somehow and more sorrowful then the Elven lord had ever heard in him.

            After about ten minutes, Elladan appeared through the undergrowth with a not so pleasant look on his face.  Aragorn noticed that his cloak had been torn on his forearm, and a dark crimson stain could be seen bordering its edges.

            “Brother,” Elrohir said, moving toward his twin.  “What happened?  You’re injured.”  It was a simple question, but it held more emotion than words could convey.

            However, Elladan brushed aside his brother’s concern.  “Orc’s claws are long and sharp, but it truly is nothing more then a scratch.”  Another man stepped out from the trees.  Elladan noticed the color drain from Aragorn’s face, though he continued.  “Besides, I believe Rayford took a more serious wound to his own hand.  It may be broken.”

            Aragorn’s head was spinning as he stood staring at a relatively uninjured and very much alive young man.  “What spirit comes?” he whispered, taking a step back.  Another ghost? Aragorn quickly scanned the surrounding trees as he searched for Milena, but there was nothing.  Is this an illusion of Saruman? Did I ever actually leave Orthanc?

            “What is it, Strider?” Rayford asked when he saw the look of confusion and surprise on the man’s face.  The young man held up his injured hand.  “Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it looks.  I’m sure it will heal in time.”

            Aragorn laughed, though it was laced with surprise and fear.  “It can not be,” he said, taking another step backwards.  “You are dead.  I saw what was left of your body.  You cannot be here.  Please, leave me and rest in peace!”

            “What are you talking about, Estel?”  Elladan asked, falling into his old habit of using Aragorn’s elvish name.  His concern was growing.  “Rayford is the only reason we found and rescued you.  He is not dead.”  His voice stressed the last sentence as he joined Elrohir by Aragorn’s side.    

            “What happened, Estel?”  Elrohir asked.

            When Aragorn didn’t answer, Rayford stepped forward and placed his good hand on the Ranger’s shoulder.  “I did as you said,” he commented quietly.  “I found my way out of Isengard, although I had to avoid several bands of Orcs.  I traveled for five days before, by luck only, I came across these Rangers.  The two Elves said they knew you.”

            “We’ve been trailing you for almost two days, since you crossed the Entwash,” Elladan continued.

            “We were waiting in ambush along the edge of that town you passed, but...” Elrohir said with a shrug.

            Aragorn chuckled softly.  “Felnorvard thought it would be safer to travel through it instead of around.”

            “And so it was,” Elrohir said with a forced smile.  He knew Aragorn well enough to know that something was terribly wrong.  He seemed distracted, like his mind was working on too many problems at once.

            Aragorn’s own smile faded as his eyes fell back on Rayford, and he became very serious.  “What was it I saw then?”

            “Why don’t you tell us,” Elladan said, his eyes narrowing in confusion.  “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

            Aragorn briefly explained how the young man’s broken body had been thrown at his feet and then about his ghostly visions.

            Elladan and Elrohir stood very quietly when Aragorn was finished.  The two quickly searched their minds for every possible explanation, but nothing was making sense.  They knew that Saruman did not have the power to keep the dead from their final resting place, and although he could create illusions, they would not interact the same way Aragorn described.

            “Estel,” Elladan said.  “Saruman is not powerful enough to create what you have described.  Is there nothing more to your tale?”

            “Nothing.”

            “What was it that Felnorvard forced you to drink, Strider?” Rayford asked hopefully.  “Could that have something to do with it?”

            “I don’t believe so,” Aragorn said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “It did not affect me.”

            “Maybe you should tell us anyway,” Elrohir prompted.  Hallucinations would explain many things, and it often took someone else to see the problem.

            “I was forced to drink some type of drug around half a dozen times.  I believe that Saruman was using it to force me to agree to join him, but it didn’t work.  The wizard said as much himself.”

            “A drug, you say?  That opens many more possibilities.  Do you know what it was he used, which herbs?”  Elrohir asked.  “Anything that could help us?”

            Thanks to growing up in Elrond’s house and living many years in the wild, Aragorn had a great knowledge of various herbs.  “I saw the leaf before the first dose, but it was nothing that I had ever seen before.  The smell was odd as well, old, like something you would smell in an ancient room or library,” Aragorn said.

            “All right then, let’s take a look at you,” Elladan said.  “Lie on your back, if you can.”

            Aragorn did as he was told.  The old whip welts on his back were still a bit sore, but the cool ground was soothing.  He took a few deep breaths and let his body relax.  The adrenalin rush had finally worn off, but it left his body feeling weak and unsteady.  It felt so good to lie down.

            The three other men sat quietly on the other side of camp and watched as the two elves knelt beside Aragorn.  Elrohir laid both of his hands on the man’s chest and closed his eyes in concentration.  Elladan focused his attention on Aragorn’s eyes and mouth.  He looked at the man’s tongue for a while and then stared deeply into Aragorn’s eyes. 

            For his part, Aragorn kept still and tried to aid the twins anyway he could.  He knew they were trying to sense evil within him and search for its outward signs.  Being able to detect evil presences in the world was a very useful talent the Elves possessed.

When Elladan placed his palm on Aragorn’s forehead and looked into his eyes, he tried not to blink or glance away.  He knew Elladan was looking for changes because many of the ancient herbs and drugs affected them somehow.  He was instructed to look to the right and left as the elf studied the way his eyes moved.  The eyes never lied.  Learning what he wanted, Elladan sat back and waited patiently for his brother to finish his search.

            After a few minutes, Elrohir slowly opened his eyes and looked at his twin.  Elladan nodded in response to an unasked question and turned to the three other men sitting behind them.  “There is much that needs to be done,” Elladan said.  “Check the area one more time for any lingering Orcs and then bring wood for a fire.  It will be dark in a few hours so we must make camp here.”

            After the other men moved off, Elladan turned back to his younger foster brother who had now pulled himself up to a sitting position.  “Estel, there are many things this can be.  We need to know exactly what you felt, if there was any weakness of body or mind.  Knowing this will greatly help narrow down the possibilities.”

            Aragorn thought for a moment.  It was always easy to talk with his brothers.  They had a unique talent for listening in patience and without judgment.  The same was true for their entire race.  It was a trait that Aragorn hoped he would someday perfect.

            “I experienced many emotions while I was held.  They were nothing that I haven’t felt before but never so intense or frequent.”  He paused.  “I suppose it is possible that it was brought on by the drug.  It had been many months since I’d thought on the matter at all,” he said slowly.  Then he explained further, telling about his fears of being an inadequate king and letting those around him die needlessly.

            The sons of Elrond listened very quietly.  This was nothing they hadn’t talked about before.  When Aragorn had been much younger, the twins often sat with him and talked about his future.  However, it had been many years since he’d had this much of a problem.

            “There were also dreams,” Aragorn continued.  “Although I do not remember all of them, I know they were on the same topics.  I always awoke with those doubts on my mind and couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it for the rest of the day.  I just thought it was because the years are passing by so quickly.  It always seemed so far away.  I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about… it… being found, and if it’s true, there may be even fewer years ahead then I thought.  But here I go again; even now I cannot stay focused.”

            Elrohir nodded once.  “Well, have these feelings lessened since you’ve been on the road?” he asked.

            “No,” Aragorn said, frowning.  “While it is not getting any worse, I was still having the dreams the night before last.”

            “And the last time you were given the drug?”

            Aragorn sighed as he tried to recall just how long it had been.  “The night before I left Isengard,” he finally said.  “And that was a little over a week ago.”

            “You are still feeling its effects after all that time,” Elladan concluded quietly.  “This eliminates many things.  Elrohir and I must discuss this.  For now, Lourin and Amaleg can start tending your wounds; they have some skill in healing.”

            Aragorn sat up slowly and saw that the three men had returned with wood.  A small fire had already been built, and a warm red glow bounced off the surrounding trees.  It was a welcoming scene.

            “Was anything learned?” Lourin asked as the Ranger approached.

            “I don’t know.  They are discussing it now,” Aragorn said as he sat by the fire.  “They suggested that we begin cleaning and dressing my other wounds.”

            Lourin laughed slightly.  “Of course!  I was just about to begin heating some water.  Come, let me take a look at you.”

            Aragorn’s back was caked with dry blood and sweat, and that was where they began.  The weeks of shirtless activity had not allowed the whip wounds to heal free from infection.  Some of them had begun to fester and would need to be drained.

            Aragorn was very quiet as the other Rangers worked.  He was grateful for their gentle attention, but his mind was occupied with everything he had told the elves.  Talking about it had brought those feelings back to the surface, just where he did not want them.

            After a small amount of pain, most of the wounds on Aragorn’s back were cleaned, and the more severe ones were being bandaged when Elladan returned. 

            “After we discussed all the possibilities, I believe we’ve narrowed them down far enough to treat you,” Elladan said, picking up his pack.  “Our list is small but all of them require very similar healing procedures.  Just so we’re certain, you said there was only one plant used?”

            Aragorn furrowed his brow as he tried to recall his memories.  “There were two whole plants that Saruman was holding.  One was significantly smaller than the other, but it is very possible they were the same, just a less mature version.  He used the smallest leaves from one and the largest from the other.  I found that very odd at the time which is why I remember it now, but I don’t recall much else.”

“That narrows the field even further,” Elladan said.  “Luckily, we have almost everything needed, and Elrohir is away searching for the rest.  I trust the area is clear,” he said, turning to the other Rangers.  The sun was setting and long shadows were being cast around the campsite.  The forest had to be secure before everyone settled down for the night.

            “Yes,” Amaleg said.  “There were Orc tracks in the area, but I believe they were from earlier today for none were fresh.  All were several hours old.”

            “Good.”  Elladan pulled some mugs and herbs from his pack and set them aside.  He glanced over at the pot next to the fire.  “Is this all the water that’s left?” 

            Amaleg nodded.  Aragorn had been positively filthy, and now there was barely a third of the pot left.  It had taken entirely too much water to clean the blood, sweat, and mud from the man’s back.  “There’s a small stream ten minutes out.  How much will you need?”

            “We’ll need more then this, a full pot at the very least,” Elladan said.  “I do wish we could have the light of day to work by, but we’ll take what we can get.”  He smiled slightly.  “Come, little brother, let’s get this fire brighter.  You may need its warmth before we’re done tonight.”

            Picking up a log to throw on the fire, Aragorn half smiled at being called ‘little brother’ when he was nearly eighty six years old, but it was somehow comforting. 

            As one of the other Rangers went to fetch more water, Elladan placed one of his elvish blankets down so Aragorn could have something comfortable to rest on.  Elrohir soon immerged from the trees and laid several handfuls of plants at his brother’s feet.

When the silence made him believe the twins were not going to offer information freely, Aragorn asked, “What was the drug then?”

            “We do not agree,” Elrohir said, eyeing his twin.  “He says it’s girnair, but though it is ancient and rare, it’s deadly in the dose you described.”

            “But all the symptoms point to it,” Elladan argued.

            Ignoring his brother’s comment, Elrohir continued.  “Then he claimed it was maywen with the same argument.  I, on the other hand, think it could be either inwist or hourma.”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Elladan said, cutting his brother off before they relived their earlier arguments.  “Since they produce the same symptoms, they are treated very similarly.”

            “Yes, but it’s a long multi step process and you, Estel, have a creature to hunt for, or so I am told.  So let us begin,” Elrohir said.

            As the twins began to fill several mugs with warn water, Aragorn fidgeted with the edges of the blankets.  “I do not think I’ll be continuing my search for Gollum,” he said, not bringing his eyes up to meet those of the elves’.  “I plan to return to Imladris and be with Arwen.  I’ve been away for a long time, almost eight years, and a few years vacation would be most welcome.”

            “Is that wise?” Elladan asked, simply.

            “Dropping his voice to a whisper, Elrohir said, “Shouldn’t now be the time for speed?  If Gandalf believes *it* has been found and he thinks Gollum is important, all haste is needed.  You cannot stray from your path now!  You are very important to this, Estel.”

            “I know that,” Aragorn said coldly, almost in anger.  “And you know I have never wanted that path.  I have seen what men do, how they act in war, and how they look exclusively to their leaders without being able to think for themselves.  I do not want such responsibility.  All I wish is to continue living my quiet life as a Ranger until the time is right for Arwen and I to live together in peace.”

            “And what about your people?  What if the war comes, and you are not a part of it?  What if the stories are true, and without you, there is no hope for a happy end?”  Elrohir asked.

            “Happiness is relative,” Aragorn countered.  “No, I will depart for Imladris, the one place where I can rest without worry and in the company of those I love and care for.”

            “But how can you…?” Elrohir started before he felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder, quieting him.

“Wait,” Elladan said.  Then, turning to Aragorn, “Do not make any decisions while you are ill.  Please wait until we purge this poison from your body, then we will talk.  Let us not speak of it now.”

            Aragorn agreed and relaxed a bit.  He was confident the twin lords would allow him to return to Rivendell if he wished.  Truth be told, Aragorn could not even remember why he’d agreed to help Gandalf in the first place.  Right now, all he wanted was to escape from the problems and worries of his life for a while, and Rivendell was the perfect place for such a thing.

            Even as the elves were busy mixing various herbs, Aragorn spoke again.  “Are you certain that I’m still being affected by the drug, what ever it may be called?  I don’t feel anything different.”

            Elladan smiled softly at the man.  “Yes, little brother, you are under its destructive influence.”  He paused and then stared seriously into Aragorn’s eyes.  “Do you trust me, Estel?”

            “That’s a foolish question.  You know that I’ve always trusted you both with more than my very life, if such a thing is possible.”

            “Then trust us now,” he said gently.  “You are very ill, and because so much time has passed since the last dose, great haste is needed.  You must cooperate completely with everything we ask, even if you don’t understand the reasons behind them.”

            Aragorn looked first at Elladan and then Elrohir.  He saw great concern and the love of brothers in their eyes.  “Of course.  Your intentions are the best, and I will do nothing to hinder your efforts.”

            “Good!” Elrohir exclaimed.  “Unfortunately, we must begin with one of the more unpleasant tasks.  Were you given any Orc draught over the last two days?”

            “Yes,” Aragorn answered.  That had been his first encounter with the disgusting draught, and he hoped to never taste it again.  “Other than brief mouthfuls of water, that was all that I was given to drink.”

            “I thought as much.  Here,” Elladan said, handing Aragorn a small mug filled with a sweet smelling liquid.  “Don’t be fooled by the smell.  It will make you sick and expel everything from your stomach.  For our healing to work, the herb poison can be the only evil presence in your body, and that includes the drink of the Orcs.”

            “I understand,” Aragorn mumbled and then emptied the fluid into his mouth. 

----------

            Rayford had been sitting across the campsite watching the quiet exchange between Strider and the two elves.  He couldn’t hear what was being said, but their facial expressions told him it was important.

            Lourin and Amaleg had left several minutes ago in search of food and to make sure the area was still free of enemies.  The three of them had decided to give the two elves and their patient as much room as possible.  Somehow, Rayford did not think it would be in Strider’s best interest to have him so near. 

            He could not understand why the man had thought he was dead.  It didn’t surprise him that Saruman had told Strider a lie, saying he had been slain, but why had the Ranger believed it?  Surely he could have seen through the deception.

            Rayford took out the small number of things the other Rangers had given him and began to settle down for the evening.  After he cleared away the rocks, sticks, and leaves, he laid out his bedroll.  It was late in the year and though snow was not common this far south, the nights were uncomfortably chilly if not properly outfitted.  Luckily, the Rangers had managed to find enough extra blankets that they could all sleep farther away from the fire, leaving the elves to their work.  Just as he was getting comfortable, Rayford glanced back over to where Strider was being tended. 

            Rayford gasped as he saw the Ranger on his knees, being violently sick into a large bowl held by Elladan.  Elrohir was kneeling behind Strider, holding the hair away from the man’s face with one hand while gently rubbing his back with the other.

            At first, Rayford thought something was wrong, and he began to climb to his feet.  But then he saw that the two elves didn’t seem to be concerned with Strider’s new illness.  He trusted the elves, and though he’d only spent a few days with them, it wasn’t hard to see how knowledgeable they were.

            Rayford smiled slightly.  There was obviously a long history between the three beings, thought he didn’t know exactly what it was.  They were family somehow, brothers.  Rayford’s thoughts immediately shifted to his cousin, Milena.  She had been the only family he had known for many months.  Now she was dead; he was certain of that.  He’d stared into her lifeless face and held her cold hand.  Rayford knew she would not be forgotten, and he hoped to create a new life for himself in honor of the dead that he loved.

            He watched as Strider sat back on his haunches, taking quick shallow breaths.  Then Elladan forced another mug into his hand.  The Ranger made an unpleasant face but quickly threw his head back, draining the contents.

            Rayford chuckled softly.  It would be a long night for Strider, but hopefully, the morning would bring comfort and final healing.

----------

            Aragorn collapsed into Elladan’s waiting arms.  He hated being sick to his stomach.  It always made him out of breath and his insides felt like they wanted to throw themselves from his body. 

            “Please tell me I will not have to do that again,” Aragorn complained to his caretakers. 

            “You will not,” Elladan said with a slight laugh.  “Though there are some other unpleasant aspects of your treatment, this was the worst.”

            “What else is there?”

            “Lie here,” Elladan said as he unfolded another blanket.  “There are a few more elixirs that Elrohir is preparing, but they’ll be nothing, sedatives mostly.  Just enough to keep you relaxed.”

            The three were silent as Aragorn eased himself onto his back, and the twins set up their supplies.  The Ranger resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  Just because they were the sons of Elrond Peredhil didn’t mean they acted any different then normal Elves.  No one could ever get full answers out of them.  Although Elves rarely felt it necessary to downright lie, it could often be difficult sorting out their riddles and find answers.  “Please brothers, I promised to cooperate, but that doesn’t mean I’ll accept being uninformed.  Why must I be kept drugged?”

            Elladan gave a small, understanding nod.  “Of course, forgive me.  Whatever Saruman gave you is affecting your mind.  There is a strange shadow surrounding your thoughts and redirecting your emotions.  We believe,” he said, motioning to his twin, “that I can guild you back.”

            “In my mind?” Aragorn asked, looking from one twin to the other.  He needed to make sure he understood what was going to happen.  Over the years, he’d been healed many times by various elves, but it had always been a physical wound, never something like this.  “You’ll be in my mind?”

            “Not exactly,” Elladan said as he shifted closer.  “It is very difficult to explain.  What I’m going to do is very unnatural for Men, and if given the chance, you will fight me at every step.  No,” he said, cutting Aragorn off as he began to protest.  “Every man fights against this kind of intrusion.  Trust me on this.  You must be completely relaxed to follow me.”

            “Is this dangerous?”  Aragorn surprised himself with the question.  Normally, he would never have asked.  If his brothers said it needed to be done, it didn’t matter the cost.

            But Elladan simply smiled.  “Not at all.  I said it was unnatural for Men, not Elves.  Sometimes, through guided meditation, it can help deal with grief and the beginning stages of Sea Longing.  It will work much the same way for you, but since you are no elf, I will do all the work.  All you must do is follow.”

            “How?”

            “Drink this.”  He handed Aragorn a mug filled with a warm, dark liquid.  “And relax.  Clear your mind as best you can.  The few men who’ve had this treatment say it’s uncomfortable but not painful, so do not be alarmed.  Try not to fall asleep, but if it happens, so be it.  But while you’re awake,” he said with a broad grin, “try not to squirm.”

            Aragorn snorted softly at the jest, but Elladan continued.  “Just relax.  We’ll be finished by sunrise.”

            He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind as Elladan sat by his head.  Aragorn had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he trusted his foster brother.

            Elladan placed a hand lightly at the base of Aragorn’s neck and with his other palm resting on the bridge of the man’s nose, stretched his fingers to touch Aragorn’s right temple and his thumb to his left.  The man kept his eyes focused on the elf’s calm face as he felt something odd and slightly alarming tug at the back of his mind.

            “Do not fight me,” Elladan whispered.

----------

            A shadow peered out from behind the trees and listened to the verbal exchange between the elves and man.  There was still a chance he could save his current situation.

            A branch snapped, and the dark figure knew it was time to retreat to safety.  The two other Rangers were in the area, and they would ruin everything if allowed.

            “This is far from over,” he said as he silently melted back into the protective shadows of the forest.

TBC