My Sword Weeps
by Agape4Rivendell
Chapter 11: A Fell Darkness
His head hurt. He could not understand
it.
Elrohir was sitting on his chest. He blinked once, twice, then tried to
move, but his brother held him firmly on the ground. He tried to lift
his hand to rub his forehead; the pain was intense. “What are you
doing?” he asked incredulously.
“Aragorn?” Elrohir still held him down.
“Elrohir, what are you doing? Why are you sitting on me? Let me up, my
head aches fiercely.”
Elladan touched his brother’s shoulder and shook his head in warning.
Elrohir nodded.
“Who is Arwen?”
Aragorn looked at him in disbelief. “What are you asking? You know
perfectly well who Arwen is. What has come over you two?” His grey eyes
startled wider. “Elrohir. Are you all right? Elladan. What makes you
fear me? Has the wizard done something to the two of you?” He put his
hand on Elrohir’s arm and winced as his brother flinched. “Are you
afraid of me? What lies has the wizard woven in your mind? It is I,
your brother, Estel.”
“Are you Estel?” Elrohir asked quietly, whispering the question, hoping
it was indeed Estel lying before him.
“I am Estel, your brother. And you are Elrohir, my brother. We are
more than kin; we are of the same heart. Elrohir. Please speak to me as
brother, as friend. You frighten me.”
Elrohir took Aragorn’s chin in his hand and looked deeply into his
brother’s eyes. Then, letting go, he raised himself from Aragorn’s
chest and stood away. Elladan looked closely, after that, he offered a
hand. Aragorn grasped it and rose. Each stepped away from the other and
all three, standing in the warm glow of the fire, waited expectantly –
for what? None knew. An owl screeched in a tree nearby. Still they
stood.
Aragorn, at last, rubbed his face with both hands as if laving it; then
ran them through his hair. “We seem to be out of sorts tonight. You
have some miruvor, do you not, Elrohir? Perhaps now would be a good
time to partake of some?”
Elrohir sat on a little mound in front of the fire and drew a flask
from his tunic. “I think that is a welcome suggestion. You too,
Elladan. Let us share some of this and wash away whatever evil has come
upon us.”
Elladan sat too and Aragorn joined them. After passing the flask
back to Elrohir, Aragorn asked, “Would you now tell me why you attacked
me?”
Elrohir looked into the fire while Elladan looked in amaze at
Estel. At last, Elrohir spoke. “Our father greatly depends upon the
wizards, all three. He has much respect for them. I have been taught to
value their counsel. Until today, I was prepared to obey our father.
Mithrandir has always been friend to Elves,” he raised his hand to ward
off Estel’s obvious impatience. “Galadriel herself trusts the Grey
Pilgrim explicitly. Was he not with the White Council when they drove
the Necromancer from Dol Guldur?”
He bowed his head for a moment. “Something happened while we were with
Curunír. I do not know what, but some power flowed from the
wizard
towards us.” He took a deep breath. “Towards you, Estel.”
Aragorn looked at the fire, brow furrowed. “Are you sure,” he asked
quietly, “that something did not happen to you. I was not the one
sitting on my brother’s chest, holding him down.” He looked towards
Elladan. “And I was not the one holding my brother’s legs.”
“You remember nothing?” Elladan asked in amaze.
“What is there to remember? First, you were taunting me as we did
as children, the next, you were attacking… Nay. It was Orc. Orc were
attacking…” He shook his head, held his hand to his forehead and
groaned. “The Orc?” He stood swiftly, turning towards Elrohir. Elladan
stood also, quickly putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, but
Aragorn did not notice. “Where are the Orc? Have we killed them all?”
“Peace, Estel. They are dead.” Elrohir quickly looked at Elladan,
who wisely said naught. “Sit, brother, and we will tell you all.”
“Why do I not remember?” Aragorn asked before sitting. Elladan, once
again, sat next to him.
“Close your eyes for a moment, brother. Take a breath and listen to
me without question. You trust me, do you not, Estel?” When his brother
nodded the affirmative, Elrohir continued. “What I tell you next is the
truth, for Elladan and I both saw and heard the same things. You do not
remember because… Estel, you must trust me!”
Aragorn looked up into his brother’s eyes. Noting the anguish in
them, he stood. Elladan’s eyes widened in concern, but he did not
stand. Aragorn moved towards Elrohir. Still Elladan watched. Aragorn
sat at Elrohir’s feet.
“It grieves me to see you thus. To think that you believe I do not
trust you.”
“Nay. The words I must speak next are difficult and will cause you
pain, Estel. I must know that you will listen, without interruption,
and believe that what I say, even though it may seem the most fantastic
tale you have ever heard, that you believe that it is true.”
“I swear, my brother, on the grave of my mother, that I will listen and
believe. Does that comfort you?”
Elrohir’s eyes grew moist. He leaned forward and touched Aragorn’s
shoulder. “Aye. That comforts me, Estel.” Sitting back again, he began.
“When we were with the wizard, I thought he focused his attention upon
Elladan and I, leaving you forgotten. I wish that it had been so. While
he was speaking with us, his mind must have been focused on you. You
never stirred while he spoke and I gave you great credit for not being
perturbed or insulted. Estel,” he bent forward and watched his
brother’s eyes. “You were being attacked by the wizard. Unbeknownst to
us.”
Aragorn did not move; his eyes fixed on his brother.
“The wizard’s words are filled with cunning. While we sat
mesmerized, he focused his speech on you, telling you lies, filling you
with fear. I am sorry, my brother. I believe it is so,” and he paused
for a moment, “because you attacked Elladan and I, calling us Orc. We
had to overcome you forcibly, else you would have hurt yourself or one
of us.”
“Lord Elrond must be told immediately,” Aragorn said through
clenched teeth. Then he turned to Elladan. “Vaguely do I remember
wielding some weapon, I hope it was not my sword, and waving it at you.
Forgive me.”
“There is naught to fear.” Elladan had stepped towards them. “My
concern was with you. I was afraid we had lost you forever.”
Aragorn stirred and the face he lifted to Elrohir was pain-filled.
“How do we know that you have not lost me? How do we know that the fit,
or whatever it was, will not assail me again? I bid you leave me. I am
not fit to be with at this time.” He stood and walked away, out towards
the plains of Rohan, his arms wrapped tightly about his chest.
They heard great sobs coming from him.
~*~
The likwain traveled far onto the Pelennor. At last it stopped, well
away from any farms or settlements. Another wagon drew near, driven by
Gorlim. The patrol had swung around, in the night, and met at the
appointed spot. Quickly and quietly, they removed the body from the
wagon, wrapped tightly in blankets to keep any foul disease within;
then, Indis and Listöwel moved into the wagon. Baranor picked up
the
sleeping Théodred and placed him on the wagon’s blanketed floor
while
Gorlim placed Faramir in Indis’ arms.
Another soldier drove the likwain off towards the servant’s final
resting place and the band of now very weary travelers moved towards
the North Gate. It was imperative that they reach it before daybreak,
so the pace set was hard and fast. Indis clung to Faramir, placing
cushions all around him to protect him from the jostling cart.
By this time, Listöwel’s head drooped. Indis sobbed as she looked
at the three about her. How she wished she could have left them all
behind, in the safety of Minas Tirith, and just taken Faramir herself.
Again, they were on a road filled with danger and the outcome was less
than certain. In fact, in Indis’ deepest thoughts, she had lost hope.
As they passed through the North Gate, a darkness fell over her and she
slept, assailed by wild dreams of men attacking, along with Orc and
fell beasts.
A hand touched her and she screamed.
