Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: As in Chapter 1

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 22 – It’s Only in Your Mind

He felt warm and dry, something that he thought that he would never feel again. Something soft was wrapped around his shoulders and the fabric rustled when he shifted slightly under it. Somewhere, a group of people were talking in his native tongue, their soft laughter gave him a sense of security. He knew that he was among friends and relaxed with a small sigh. Too tired to open his eyes, Legolas lay silently and listened to the conversation, a small smile played across his pale face.

His thoughts drifted to the ranger and he wondered how his friend fared. He recalled vaguely Elladan telling him Aragorn was fine. Was it only a dream or did they really find him and Aragorn? Legolas shifted again and forced his eyes open. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a fire glowing merrily not far from him and three figured sat huddled close to the flame. One of them turned towards him when his movement caught the attention of the dark haired elf and a big grin materialised on the elf’s face.

"He’s awake," Elladan heard the rustling and turned towards the sound. He scooted lazily over to the prince with his father and brother following closely behind.

"Elladan? Is that really you?" Legolas asked groggily. When he and Aragorn left Rivendell, they had not mentioned where they were heading to since they themselves did not know their destination. It would take a miracle for anyone to find them.

"No, it’s not me. It’s just a figment of your imagination," Elladan grinned mischievously and received an elbow in his side. The older twin growled and glared at his twin brother who had danced gracefully out of his reach.

"How did you find us?" the injured elf asked weakly, his voice still shaky from the earlier exertion.

Elrohir looked at his father and turned back towards the elf prince. "It’s a long story. Tell you when we get back home."

The wood-elf gave a small nod and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he turned his head to his side, his silver-blue eyes searched the cave for his best friend. "Where is Estel?" the blond elf asked, concern laden heavily in his voice.

"He is resting comfortably, and so should you." Elladan answered.

Legolas ignored Elladan’s words and tried to rise but Elrond pressed his hand on the prince’s shoulder, pushing the stubborn elf back towards the ground. "Lie still!"

Legolas sighed exasperatedly. "I have been hearing that a lot lately."

"And you should listen too," the elf lord admonished lightly and proceeded to check the bandages. Elrond had bound Legolas’ broken arm tightly against his chest to minimize movement and to prevent him from moving it around too much. It seemed to him that the prince had ignored the fact that his arm needed time to heal.

The prince squirmed uncomfortably under the elf lord’s ministration. "I’m fine," he lied and flinched when Elrond’s fingers prodded a sore spot on his abdomen.

"Only someone like you would say that they are fine with broken ribs and arm, punctured lung, ruptured spleen, a bruised kidney and not to mention several dozen of other cuts and bruises," the younger twin added the last sentence in a joking manner.

Legolas rolled his eyes at the obvious tease. "I don’t have several dozen cuts and bruises," he defended himself.

"Okay, so I exaggerated a little," the twin grinned. "But did you know how close you were treading on the brink of death not too long ago?"

Elladan nodded in agreement. "We almost lost you if it’s not for father. How did you even make it this far?"

"Peer pressure?" the blond elf laughed but the laughter caught in his throat and he coughed twice.

"Here, drink this," Elrohir slipped his hand behind Legolas’ neck and lifted him off the ground slightly, pressing a cup to his lips.

Legolas took the warm tea gratefully and thanked him with a silent smile.

"So, what happened to the both of your?" Unable to contain his curiosity much longer, Elladan finally blurted out the question.

"That is an even longer story." Legolas sighed tiredly, the short conversation had used up much of his strength and his eyes drifted shut unwillingly.

Noting the exhaustion in the young elf, Elrond stopped his sons from further questions. "Alright, that’s enough," the elf lord pulled his sons away from the elf prince. "We’re moving out in an hour. Let him rest while he still can." Pulling the cloak back to the elf’s shoulder, the elf lord tucked it securely under his arms. The tale could wait.

*****

Morning came quickly, the rays of the morning sun flooded into the cave, warming the cool air inside. Elrohir smothered the fire as Elrond helped Legolas onto the horse in front of Elladan. Although awake, the prince was still too weak to sit unaided on the horse and the older elf had to wrap his arm around Legolas’ waist to prevent him from toppling over.

After checking on his son to make sure that his wounds were no longer bleeding, Elrond signalled for Elrohir to hand his brother over to him after mounting his own horse. The elf lord pulled Aragorn against him pressing the human’s head onto his shoulder after wrapping his cloak around his sleeping child. Elrond urged his horse on when he was certain that son was seated securely in front of him.

The jostling of the horse woke Aragorn. He whimpered miserably as the motion sent white-hot pain up his side and arm and for a fleeting moment, he thought he was back in the village again. He and felt someone’s arm tightened around his waist and the ranger panicked, twisting against the retrains trying to break free with whatever remaining strength he had. The movement tore at his wounds but he was so determine to break free that he did not care what happened to him.

"Sit still Estel!" Elrond whispered harshly into the human’s ear and shifted Aragorn slightly to reposition the young man so that he would not slip off the horse. The elf lord’s grip tightened to keep the trashing human from falling and the sheer force of holding him there tore at his wounds. Blood soaked through the bandages rapidly but they could not afford to stop if they wanted to make it home before nightfall.

"Be at peace my son!" Elrond cooed urgently in elvish. He would not be able to hold on to his son any longer if he kept up with his struggling. "Estel!" the elf lord called out as his grip on his son started to slip precariously and he was being dragged off balance but before the two figures tumbled off their horse, Elrohir rode up beside them and held onto the delirious human, pushing him back towards his father.

Elrond shook Aragorn hard to draw him out from whatever nightmare that was haunting him. "Focus on my voice, Estel," the elf lord urged, "don’t fight me. All is well."

Aragorn whimpered again but he no longer struggle having finally recognized his father’s voice.

"Ada?" he rasped.

"Yes my son, it is I," Elrond loosened his grip a little now that the human was more lucid but the damage was already done. The elf lord’s arm and hand was slick with Aragorn’s blood but he did not have time to re-stitch the wound. Time was pressing for them and every minute wasted would only bring them more pain and delay their journey further. Elrond placed his hand on Aragorn’s side and pressed down hard to stop the bleeding, his action wrenched a cry from the young ranger.

"It hurts..." Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears streaming down his pain filled face.

"I know my son, I know," the elf lord’s heart was torn into a thousand pieces at his son’s words especially when he was the one causing the pain. "Just hold on for a little longer, we are almost home." But the truth was they were still half a day’s ride from Rivendell. "Try to go to sleep Estel, it will dull the pain," the father coaxed gently.

*****

To Be Continued...