Post by Admin on Jan 31, 2021 23:19:15 GMT
Author: Yuanjia
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Tolkien – anything else… talk to the muse.
Rating: T (violence)
Summary: It is said that in the year 2957 to 2980 Aragorn undertook great journeys. The story is set in the year 2980 and what happened to finally make Aragorn return to Rivendell for some well deserved rest.
“Believe me; you will only be making it worse!”
Ferhard glared at Aragorn, and pulled the knife closer to the face of the elf held on his knees before him.
Legolas stared at the man, then back at the determined eyes of the elf he held captured. Legolas realized he was able to kill the man holding his soldier without any trouble. The man would not even see the arrow coming, it would be over before he could blink, but these men, and the rangers have always been their allies.
They had no dispute amongst themselves. They were always fighting their common enemy. This situation was uncalled for.
Legolas slowly removed the nocked arrow from his bow and slid it back into his quiver. He lowered his bow, becoming aware of his company not following suit so he raised his left hand in a silent command for them to do the same.
Not missing a single movement from the elves, Ferhard released some of the pressure from the knife, but kept it close.
“What do you want with him” Legolas asked, indicating towards his young soldier.
“He will have to face the consequences of his actions!!” Ferhard shouted at Legolas as he repositioned the knife at the elf’s neck.
Legolas frowned at the man, not understanding what he meant, turning confused eyes towards Aragorn. Aragorn raised his shoulders slightly – he didn’t know either.
“He killed one of the children. The boy was not even four years old, and HE killed him!” the man continued. The captured elf’s eyes revealed nothing but confusion in return.
Ferhard reluctantly described the events of the battle with the orcs that passed just two days ago. The men were traveling south, towards the small village when they came across an isolated orc. He was running towards them screaming, sword and knife drawn. He came out of nowhere and turned on them. Startled, one of the men drew his sword, while another followed quickly and stormed towards the charging creature.
They managed to kill it, but were still caught totally unprepared when a large group of panicked orcs suddenly burst through the dark forest, heading straight towards the group of men, women and children. There were very little the villagers could do but desperately draw their meager weapons and try to defend themselves.
Many died before they realized they were in the way of the fleeing party of orcs. Only when the elf\'s arrows started to rain down around them, did some realize what was happening. The orcs saw the men’s presence as an ambush and viciously attacked them. No mercy – not that it was something they did anyway, but their blows held even more cruelty than usual.
The women and children sought the only option they had; they dove into the undergrowth trying to find cover. When the humans backed away from the fight, the orcs found a way thru. Their attention quickly returned to flight as they tried to avoid the arrows and elf blades still in pursuit.
As the battle noise and panicked screams quieted down, the villagers saw the elves rushing after the orcs, passing with great stealth. They could only be seen for a moment before they vanished amongst the trees.
Legolas recalled the men they passed while in pursuit of the foul creatures. He remembers seeing some of them hiding in the undergrowth. He only turned to look when he came across the dead and wounded men lying amongst the orcs. It was then that he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach what must have happened.
Legolas did not let any emotions show as he now continued to stare at Ferhard. “If the boy was killed during the fight, you cannot seek to avenge his death or the death of any of the men upon one of my warriors. I am sure you must realize that we were not even aware of your presence until we passed you.” Legolas attempted to reason.
“If that were what happened, I could have let this be. But the soldier now in my arrest did not kill the boy during the battle. He was the last elf to pass by; making sure none was left alive. He came across an orc, still breathing and he ran him thru. But the boy became scared, hiding in the undergrowth mere meters away from this blade wielding elf.” The man’s voice had lost some of its urgency by now and when he continued his eyes were staring at nothing before of him.
“The boy tried to get away” Ferhard sighed. “The boy was crawling away and this elf released and arrow the moment he heard the child move.” Rage filled the man’s voice again as he grasped at the knife so tight his knuckles turned white, tears streaming down his face. “He didn’t even check to see what he was killing!”
“He was just trying to get away from the insanity around him.” The man choked. “He was crawling away from you…. And you… killed him…”
The raw hurt in the man’s words struck the heart of all those who heard his account. The death of the innocent was not unheard of, but to lose such a precious life in the aftermath of a battle filled their hearts with deep sorrow and anger.
A million thoughts were running through his head when Legolas glanced towards Aragorn again, then back at Ezra still held on his knees in front of Ferhard. What bothered Legolas was that he was not told of this sooner. Maybe if he was, they would not be in this situation. At the same time Legolas did not fail to notice the clear shock on Ezra’s face as he heard the account form the man holding him down.
“I swear on all I hold dear, I did not see a boy” Ezra pleaded softly. “I saw no child!”
\"But you killed him none the less” came the reply from above him. “You killed my boy!”
Legolas closed his eyes against the pain in the man’s words. He could not phantom having to deal with the pain the man must be feeling.
He knew that Ezra had little experienced. This was his first time on patrol. What should have been an uneventful three day scouting route turned into one of the most daunting encounters they ever had so close to the Mirkwood borders.
Legolas always assigned the newest soldiers to the back of their party and from there he would gradually move them forward as they gained experience. Ezra was no exception. He was assigned to an experienced soldier for the first year of his patrols. But the elf assisting Ezra’s was killed very early on in the clash with the orcs. Legolas saw this happen and remember the immediately concern he felt for Ezra.
He briefly scanned the area for Ezra, but when he did not see him instinct and years of training made him set aside that concern quickly. Instead he chose to focus on the more important task at hand. He had to keep them all alive. He chose to ignore the one; instead he focused on keeping all his warriors alive.
Legolas heart leaped in his chest. ‘I never issued the order of guidance’ he thought to himself. The words of the standard order resounded without effort to recall, clearly in his mind: ‘Seek and follow instruction from any soldier, should your guardian be killed or separated from your side. Never act alone. If separated from the group, return to camp or Mirkwood, as soon as it is safe to do so. No action is to be taken apart from defending your own life.’
Legolas never issued the order. And Ezra, now staring back at him with sorrow filled eyes was condemning himself.
Breaths were held when Legolas stepped towards the man and elf. Legolas swallowed hard at the lump in his throat before he addressed Ferhard softly. “The death of your son is a blame you should assign to me.”
Ferhard stared at Legolas.
“I am the one who is responsible for the death of your son, not him” Legolas said indicating to Ezra. He took another small step before he continued. “This soldier is under my command, and his failure is a direct consequence of mine, no matter the circumstance.”
“Do not patronize me elf!” Ferhard told him through squinted eyes, pulling the blade closer to Ezra again.
“I would not belittle a father’s grief any more than I would condone the wrongful actions of any of my soldiers.” Legolas took another small step towards the man before he continued.
“I am honest in the words I speak. The young soldier you seized is new to my company.”
Ferhard looked at Legolas questioningly. Behind him the other men and rangers moved uncomfortably.
“Ezra’s actions were irresponsible. He might have slain an injured member from his own party with his rash action.”
Upon hearing these words a single tear flowed down Ezra’s face quietly and he bowed his head as much as the hold on him would allow.
“But” Legolas continued “like I said before, this failure is mine.”
“His arrow might have killed the boy, but I was the one who placed him there with a bow in his hand. The blame ultimately remains mine.”
Ferhard, unsure of what to do with the turn of events nervously looked towards his fellow men and then to the rangers, his eyes searching for answers when suddenly from behind a voice rang out in desperation “You dare not take their captain!”
Almost immediately affirmations where heard from all the men behind him. “They will have all our heads for this, if not the case already!” Another shouted. “Be done with this folly!” one of the rangers added from the side. Aragorn turned to him, and the look he gave the ranger could not be mistaken for anything but the command to keep his tongue.
“He is going to speak spells upon us!! See what your lust for revenge has brought upon the innocent!!” with that panic arose amongst the men. They feared the elves. They were scared. The man holding Ezra tightened his grip on the dagger again.
“Please, just hear me!” Legolas called in desperation. The outburst quieted down slowly until all that remained was an uncomfortable silence.
“I am not disputing your claims for justice.” Legolas said. “I am asking that you seek accountability form he who is truly to blame.” Legolas took another small step towards them. “Neither I, nor any of my soldiers will take action against you. You and all those traveling with you need not fear us. I give you my word.”
The man looked at Legolas with uncertainty as he continued. “Allow the guilty to carry their burden, but let the innocent be treated as such.” With these last words Legolas search for Ezra’s eyes. In Legolas eyes Ezra found none of the resentment he expected. All he saw was understanding and support. Ezra was still overwhelmed with this when he felt himself being pulled into a standing position by Ferhard.
The man looked towards Aragorn. Aragorn gave him a slight nod. Ferhard stood with the dagger still tightly clenched in his hand for a moment longer, but then slowly released his grip on Ezra’s tunic while removing the dagger from his throat.
Legolas saw the doubt the man’s eyes still held and he did the only other thing he could think of to ease the tension. He removed his twin blades slowly before handing it back to Ikaley, one of his royal guards standing behind him. His bow and quiver followed carefully. When he was unarmed Legolas turned to the Ferhard again.
“Please” Legolas said when he again took a small step towards them, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Go.” was all Ezra heard from the man behind him. He hesitantly made his way towards the elves standing behind Legolas on unsteady feet.
Aragorn stepped towards Ferhard and put a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder. Legolas approached too, looking the man straight in the eyes.
“You have my word Ferhard; you will have justice for your son.”
With these words Mahan suddenly arrived, bursting thru the gathered villagers making his way towards them breathless. “What is going on here?”
The rangers met with the villagers only a couple of hours earlier. It was just after dawn when Aragorn’s scout reported the party of men, women and children, traveling towards the next town, still two weeks away. The village where they were staying was abandoned after yet another orc attack on it and they decided to leave most of what they owned behind and move towards the bigger town just beyond the mountain. Most of them had family there, so at least they would be set until the next spring. But the journey would take more than three weeks for them.
They traveled in fear. The men were no soldiers, and the women and children made moving quickly almost impossible. They were exhausted to say the least, their supplies were running low, and the fear of attack kept them from lighting any fire’s at night. Their journey was delayed more than once, and moral amongst them were running low. Most secretly felt that they would not survive the journey, and with winter coming sooner than expected, the cold air at night left most of them sick and coughing.
It was a sad site to behold. Aragorn and the rangers decided to escort them to the village, and being a healer himself, Aragorn set up to start helping them the best he could. But there were very little he could do with the limited supplies he had with him. None the less, four of his rangers left on a hunt, while the others set up camp and took up a watch. At least the villagers would sleep safe at night. It was amazing what a good night’s rest and a hot meal could do for the spirit. Aragorn knew this better than most. He did everything he could to ensure that at least they could provide this small comfort for these people.
He had learned of the incident in the woods two days ago. Some of the children were arguing amongst themselves about the elves, and he could not happen but overhear one of them saying that the elves were no better than orcs. Curious as to why a child would say such a thing, he soon found out about the orcs and the crushing encounter they survived. Realizing that nothing was as it seemed, he sought out the man leading the villagers on their journey.
Mahan, the leader of the village, gave Aragorn an account of the events, describing to him in detail everything that happened and at the end of the conversation they both concluded that the clash with the orcs was a case of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Too much of these unfortunate turn of events left many people dead since the evil stirred again. The nameless fear that took over the forest in Mirkwood was becoming evident wherever he went these days. Aragorn felt it in the very air he breathed.
“I have no quarrels with the elves, but I cannot ignore this.” Ferhard concluded his explanation for Mahan, choosing to exclude Legolas and Aragorn from their conversation.
Apprehension was clear in eyes Aragorn’s eyes. Legolas resigned himself to his fate and let his gaze wonder to his feet.
“What would you have me do Ferhard?” Mahan asked him agitated. “We cannot hold a captain of the elves till we reach the village! And we cannot have a trial for the first born without a council!” Mahan was frustrated and feared the implications of Ferhard’s deeds. “You will bring war upon us with your rash actions!”
Legolas looked up at Aragorn, and then back the two men. “Might I offer an alternative?” he asked. Both men turned to him surprised. Mahan nodded carefully.
“Why not let the rangers conduct the trial?” Aragorn turned to Legolas in surprise. “Our law cannot be applied; surely you understand we are not in a position to decide for them what should happen?”
“I am suggesting the rangers decide and rule this incident.” Legolas took a breath before he continued.
“This way, the men need not fear retaliation from the elves and the incident is ruled over by an uninvolved party, as would have been the case with a council.” Mahan looked at Aragorn. It made some sense, at least.
“What would the ruling of your law be, if this where allowed?” Mahan asked.
Aragorn cringed at the thought but he answered. “Our law is simple compared to that of the elves”.
Legolas fixed his gaze on Aragorn. “What happens to one who commands with incompetence?”
“You cannot mean ….”
“I do” Legolas interrupted. “Ezra acted while under my command. I will see no harm come to him because he followed me.” Legolas continued in a calm steady voice. “What does your law require?”
Aragorn hesitated but he continued. “Since it was not your order to release the arrow, a captain amongst the rangers…” Aragorn stopped himself mid sentence and sighed heavily.
“This sort of thing is unheard of amongst the elves!” Aragorn said, concern clearly showing on his face. “It is not something that would ever happen amongst your people.”
Legolas did not back down. Mahan too was looking at Aragorn for an answer. Aragorn closed his eyes and sighed again before he stated plainly “A captain of the rangers would be flogged.”
Mahan was taken aback with the answer. “Are you sure?” Mahan asked, nervously looking between Aragorn and the emotionless face of Legolas.
“Two dozen lashes.” Aragorn replied.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Legolas thanked Aragorn for the answer before he then turned to the two men and asked. “Will you consider this as fair Ferhard?” Ferhard stared at Legolas without giving him an answer. “Give us a moment?” Mahan asked as he guided Ferhard away to discuss the matter.
When Legolas looked to Aragorn he saw the turmoil in his friend’s eyes. Legolas gaze shifted to the trees beyond the villagers before he softly said. “It is not completely unheard of amongst all elves. Rivendell is different from Mirkwood.”
Aragorn paused a moment before he asked under his breath “How common is the sight of a prince under the whip?” A brief frown was the only reply Aragorn received from Legolas before Mahan and Ferhard returned.
The sun was fast approaching the mountains to the west by the time they all gathered again. “You do realize that his actions saved a lot of lives today.” Mahan said to Ferhard who was still glaring at Legolas. None of the venom had left Ferhard’s eyes and he made no attempt to hide his disgust for the elf.
The charge was laid. Legolas accepted guilt and the sentence were handed down. It was all done as formal as the circumstances would allow Aragorn to be. Aragorn concluded by instructing Mahan to appoint a person to deliver the flogging and then stepped aside. Never before had his own words tasted so bitter in his mouth. He was caught in a nightmare.
Without instruction Legolas started to remove his upper garments, handing it to Ikaley. He took hold of his hair and bound it in a tight knot away from his shoulders, exposing his back completely.
Legolas followed Mahan to a sturdy tree a few steps away. When they reached it, Mahan searched through the gathered faces. He was not going to do it himself and there was no one from the village he wanted to call upon. Desperate to get it all over with as soon as possible, Mahan turned to the rangers. “Captain!” he called out to Aragorn, indicating for him to come over.
Legolas turned towards Mahan in surprise. Aragorn’s blood ran cold and he sighed heavily as he slowly made his way towards the man and elf. Legolas did not meet his gaze, staring at the man before him instead. For the first time since this all started, Legolas felt his stomach fall to the floor.
When Aragorn reached them he did not bother to ask why he was called over. Instead his expressionless face was turned to Mahan who said: ““There is no one amongst my villagers I can call upon to perform the task.”
His eyes were searching those of Aragorn as he took a step towards him. “No one has ever done such a thing. I do not want him to suffer at the hands of anyone incompetent. I am assigning this task to you. Captain of the rangers, step forward and perform this punishment.”
Mahan was sensing the reluctance of Aragorn to comply. Aragorn realized with a sickening feeling he did authorize Mahan to appoint the flogger. He could not refuse the task now, that would be disputing the ruling completely, contradicting his own words.
Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his composure.
“Such a task has never fallen to me before.” Aragorn said in a last attempt to avoid it. He could wield a whip, but never could he have imagined himself striking a person with it, least of all a friend.
“Then today will be a day of many firsts.” Mahan replied sadly. He turned away from Aragorn and took Legolas by the shoulder, turning him towards the tree. Legolas did not resist. Instead he let himself be guided forward. Two men joined Mahan, pushing Legolas into the rough bark and stretching his arms around the thick trunk. They bound his wrists together with heavy rope at the far side of the tree, securing him totally immobile.
With Legolas bound, Mahan called over one of the villagers who stepped forward with a long leather whip coiled at his side. Taking it from the man Mahan held it out to Aragorn who took it reluctantly.
Aragorn took a deep breath trying to get his trembling hands under control. He turned to the rangers now standing behind him. The eyes of the men looking back at him showed him the same thing he was feeling: Exhaustion.
They were tired of what life in middle earth has become; one battle after another. The tension in the air was ever present. The memories of well earned victories against the dark drowned out by the nonstop death and despair they encountered everywhere.
Here it was again, claiming another friend. And this here and now, uncalled for, unexpected and uncharted rapids, washing all involved helplessly along in the turbulent confusion that was just another day in their lives.
Aragorn finally took a couple of steps back and then turned towards Legolas. Legolas glanced back over his shoulder at his friend. He knew his friend well enough to know this was breaking his heart. Legolas gave Aragorn a small nod before he turned his eyes to the tree before him again. ‘Permission?’ Aragorn thought dimly before he forced himself to face the rest of this cursed day.
The whip cut a thin line across Legolas’s shoulders when it made contact. Legolas flinched, but managed to remain quiet. A cold sensation ran through his body, but it lasted only briefly. What followed felt like fire exploding all over his back. The second stripe was laid across his lower back, the tip of the whip curling around his side, cutting into the soft skin just below the ribs. Aragorn cursed softly under his breath when he saw this, and adjusted his footing so that it would not happen again.
Legolas was clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from screaming out in pain, but a low grunt escaped none the less. On the third lash, Legolas released a trembling breath he did not realize he’d been holding. This was a lot harder than he had anticipated. His ears were buzzing, almost drowning out all sound.
Aragorn felt his arm grow weary. He was clenching the whip handle so tightly, he had lost all feeling in his hand. But he continued methodically. His actions no longer guided by thought, just the rhythmical swing of the whip through the air. He was forcing himself not to see what he was doing and slowly the count progressed.
Another angry welt. Another silent flinch. Aragorn did not feel the anger that ignited inside his chest unexpectedly. Dark and hateful thoughts suddenly consumed him.
When the whip flew forward again it held rage, unlike any of lashes before. Legolas was pushed into the tree when this new pain washed thru him. His knuckles turned white as he balled his fists with all his strength, clenching his teeth to override the pain. Unable to do anything else, he leaned his forehead against the unforgiving bark and silently prayed for the strength to endure.
Aragorn realized too late that anger in his action. He had unintentionally used the whip as an outlet for the rage he felt. It all happened so quickly. Unshed tears burned his eyes. ‘What have I done?’ His thoughts screamed in his head, his will spent on trying to keep his composure.
He raised the whip again, landing it across Legolas’s shoulders leaving another bloody line none the less. ‘Three more to go’ He thought, yet he hardly had the energy to lift his arm any more.
When it was done the whip fell to the ground without ceremony. Most of the rangers turned and left the scene in silence. Their hearts were heavy with the fate that had befallen their captain. The villagers did much the same, only the elves made their way towards Legolas without seeking approval or permission.
Aragorn forced his feet to move towards Legolas. Ikaley was already by his side and he was helping Legolas stand on shaky feet while Ezra cut away the bonds that held him. Aragorn had a full view of his back as he approached. The damage was severe. Some of the cuts were deep and bleeding freely.
“Get him to my tent.” Aragorn said. Legolas looked at Ikaley, and then to Aragorn.
“I need to see the stars.” Legolas said softly.
“You need to rest Legolas.”
With Ezra leading, Ikaley and Legolas carefully made their way over to the other elves. Aragorn remained rooted on the spot until Legolas said to him: “This could very well be the only time I would not resist the efforts of a healer.” His voice was light and almost playful given the situation, but Aragorn knew it was the prince of Mirkwood speaking, not his friend.
Even now, he took it upon himself to assure his company and a friend that he was in control. Ikaley was very well aware of this too, and he in turn gave Aragorn an encouraging smile. He knew the friendship they shared was destined in the stars, even if sometimes they could not see the stars through the clouds.
Habit instructed Aragorn to clean the blood stained rags and bloody water, but the task suddenly stood like a mountain before him. His arms felt heavy at his sides and his feet would not move. He was numb with exhaustion. Legolas sat close to the camp fire, his back now dressed and cleaned, no longer visible under his cloak which was wrapped comfortably around him.
Aragorn finally sat down next to Legolas. The two friends stared into the fire in silence. What was usually a cherished time amongst old friends had turned into nothing more than two defeated souls unable to communicate. Or at least that is what Aragorn felt.
The events of the afternoon were plaguing his mind. The anger he felt driving reason and control from his mind, tortured his soul. When it exploded, it tore him from the inside out, shredding his heart to pieces. He felt the darkness embedding like shrapnel into his very being. And there it remained, waiting for the opportunity to consume and destroy him completely. With this darkness came the numbing sadness that now radiated from him, shielding him from the comforting warmth of the fire.
Legolas was the first to finally speak softly. “No one else noticed.”
Aragorn turned defeated eyes towards his friend. ‘What did it matter if they did not notice?’ Aragorn thought dimly. ’You know the truth’. He turned his eyes towards the fire again.
“I need to apologize to you Aragorn.” Legolas said after another long silence. Aragorn almost smiled at the ridiculous elf beside him. Had it been any other day, he would have come up with a witty response to such a ridiculous statement. But at this time, the simple act of smiling would take more energy than he had left in his whole body. Never before had he felt this tired.
“I had not the right to ask you to rule today.” Legolas sighed heavily, turning his face towards the stars shining brightly above them in the crisp night sky. “I should have just gone with them to the town and settled it there, but I was afraid.”
Aragorn remained silent, tensing at the confession of fear from one of the bravest he knew. ‘What are you doing Legolas?’ he thought to himself.
Legolas did not wait for a response and continued softly. “I was not afraid of what their council might rule. I feared the journey there.”
Aragorn turned confused eyes to his friends, Legolas swallowed hard before he explained. “In all my years on middle earth, I have never been forced to travel amongst those whom I knew held anger towards me.”
Aragorn cast his eyes on the fire again, allowing Legolas to continue. “Doing what we do, we rely on those who travel with us more than we rely on brothers. We trust them with our lives every time we turn our backs.”
Aragorn understood all too well what his friend was saying.
“It was my fear that forced you to be the one at my back today, Aragorn.”
Unshed tears burned in Aragorn’s eyes and he blinked it away quickly. Legolas took a deep breath before he turned to face his friend, forcing a response this time.
“You felt the whip I wielded today.” Aragorn finally said. “You know what possessed me.” Legolas nodded. “I do, and at the time I did not understand.” Aragorn turned to Legolas concerned.
“To say now, that it did not….does not, matter, would be a lie.” Aragorn was suddenly apprehensive as he waited for Legolas to continue. “But tell me son of Arathorn, would you have been able to share your anger and fear with me, was the situation not forced upon you?”
Aragorn felt uncharacteristically vulnerable, but Legolas’s eyes held comfort and understanding for his mortal friend. “You too, fear the journey before you.”
Aragorn turned his gaze to the fire again, unwilling to look at Legolas while he continued. “You refuse to lift your eyes and look beyond.”
Legolas smiled as Aragorn recited the words of Elrond. “….to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin.”
“Which way do you intend to turn?”
Aragorn whipped his head to the side, furiously glaring at Legolas. Legolas smiled, mischief shining in his eyes. “I am just asking. A prince needs to make provisions before embarking on any road.” He said tauntingly. Aragorn stared for a moment, but a smile eventually managed to escape.
“I will journey with you, son of Arathorn. Be it by your side or in distant lands. We will travel towards whatever end, together. For as long as I breathe, you will not be alone. You are my brother as I am yours, now and always.”
Despite all the effort from the darkness that smothered his heart earlier, Aragorn found comfort in the words of his friend. They sat in silence together; the day always destined to end this way.
Undeniable hope broke the surface in the spirit of the ranger for the first time in many months. Aragorn physically felt a burden lift inside him. And with Legolas sitting next to him, he was able to breathe again.
Somehow the road ahead seemed less daunting when he finally laid himself down to sleep.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Tolkien – anything else… talk to the muse.
Rating: T (violence)
Summary: It is said that in the year 2957 to 2980 Aragorn undertook great journeys. The story is set in the year 2980 and what happened to finally make Aragorn return to Rivendell for some well deserved rest.
“Believe me; you will only be making it worse!”
Ferhard glared at Aragorn, and pulled the knife closer to the face of the elf held on his knees before him.
Legolas stared at the man, then back at the determined eyes of the elf he held captured. Legolas realized he was able to kill the man holding his soldier without any trouble. The man would not even see the arrow coming, it would be over before he could blink, but these men, and the rangers have always been their allies.
They had no dispute amongst themselves. They were always fighting their common enemy. This situation was uncalled for.
Legolas slowly removed the nocked arrow from his bow and slid it back into his quiver. He lowered his bow, becoming aware of his company not following suit so he raised his left hand in a silent command for them to do the same.
Not missing a single movement from the elves, Ferhard released some of the pressure from the knife, but kept it close.
“What do you want with him” Legolas asked, indicating towards his young soldier.
“He will have to face the consequences of his actions!!” Ferhard shouted at Legolas as he repositioned the knife at the elf’s neck.
Legolas frowned at the man, not understanding what he meant, turning confused eyes towards Aragorn. Aragorn raised his shoulders slightly – he didn’t know either.
“He killed one of the children. The boy was not even four years old, and HE killed him!” the man continued. The captured elf’s eyes revealed nothing but confusion in return.
Ferhard reluctantly described the events of the battle with the orcs that passed just two days ago. The men were traveling south, towards the small village when they came across an isolated orc. He was running towards them screaming, sword and knife drawn. He came out of nowhere and turned on them. Startled, one of the men drew his sword, while another followed quickly and stormed towards the charging creature.
They managed to kill it, but were still caught totally unprepared when a large group of panicked orcs suddenly burst through the dark forest, heading straight towards the group of men, women and children. There were very little the villagers could do but desperately draw their meager weapons and try to defend themselves.
Many died before they realized they were in the way of the fleeing party of orcs. Only when the elf\'s arrows started to rain down around them, did some realize what was happening. The orcs saw the men’s presence as an ambush and viciously attacked them. No mercy – not that it was something they did anyway, but their blows held even more cruelty than usual.
The women and children sought the only option they had; they dove into the undergrowth trying to find cover. When the humans backed away from the fight, the orcs found a way thru. Their attention quickly returned to flight as they tried to avoid the arrows and elf blades still in pursuit.
As the battle noise and panicked screams quieted down, the villagers saw the elves rushing after the orcs, passing with great stealth. They could only be seen for a moment before they vanished amongst the trees.
Legolas recalled the men they passed while in pursuit of the foul creatures. He remembers seeing some of them hiding in the undergrowth. He only turned to look when he came across the dead and wounded men lying amongst the orcs. It was then that he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach what must have happened.
Legolas did not let any emotions show as he now continued to stare at Ferhard. “If the boy was killed during the fight, you cannot seek to avenge his death or the death of any of the men upon one of my warriors. I am sure you must realize that we were not even aware of your presence until we passed you.” Legolas attempted to reason.
“If that were what happened, I could have let this be. But the soldier now in my arrest did not kill the boy during the battle. He was the last elf to pass by; making sure none was left alive. He came across an orc, still breathing and he ran him thru. But the boy became scared, hiding in the undergrowth mere meters away from this blade wielding elf.” The man’s voice had lost some of its urgency by now and when he continued his eyes were staring at nothing before of him.
“The boy tried to get away” Ferhard sighed. “The boy was crawling away and this elf released and arrow the moment he heard the child move.” Rage filled the man’s voice again as he grasped at the knife so tight his knuckles turned white, tears streaming down his face. “He didn’t even check to see what he was killing!”
“He was just trying to get away from the insanity around him.” The man choked. “He was crawling away from you…. And you… killed him…”
The raw hurt in the man’s words struck the heart of all those who heard his account. The death of the innocent was not unheard of, but to lose such a precious life in the aftermath of a battle filled their hearts with deep sorrow and anger.
A million thoughts were running through his head when Legolas glanced towards Aragorn again, then back at Ezra still held on his knees in front of Ferhard. What bothered Legolas was that he was not told of this sooner. Maybe if he was, they would not be in this situation. At the same time Legolas did not fail to notice the clear shock on Ezra’s face as he heard the account form the man holding him down.
“I swear on all I hold dear, I did not see a boy” Ezra pleaded softly. “I saw no child!”
\"But you killed him none the less” came the reply from above him. “You killed my boy!”
Legolas closed his eyes against the pain in the man’s words. He could not phantom having to deal with the pain the man must be feeling.
He knew that Ezra had little experienced. This was his first time on patrol. What should have been an uneventful three day scouting route turned into one of the most daunting encounters they ever had so close to the Mirkwood borders.
Legolas always assigned the newest soldiers to the back of their party and from there he would gradually move them forward as they gained experience. Ezra was no exception. He was assigned to an experienced soldier for the first year of his patrols. But the elf assisting Ezra’s was killed very early on in the clash with the orcs. Legolas saw this happen and remember the immediately concern he felt for Ezra.
He briefly scanned the area for Ezra, but when he did not see him instinct and years of training made him set aside that concern quickly. Instead he chose to focus on the more important task at hand. He had to keep them all alive. He chose to ignore the one; instead he focused on keeping all his warriors alive.
Legolas heart leaped in his chest. ‘I never issued the order of guidance’ he thought to himself. The words of the standard order resounded without effort to recall, clearly in his mind: ‘Seek and follow instruction from any soldier, should your guardian be killed or separated from your side. Never act alone. If separated from the group, return to camp or Mirkwood, as soon as it is safe to do so. No action is to be taken apart from defending your own life.’
Legolas never issued the order. And Ezra, now staring back at him with sorrow filled eyes was condemning himself.
Breaths were held when Legolas stepped towards the man and elf. Legolas swallowed hard at the lump in his throat before he addressed Ferhard softly. “The death of your son is a blame you should assign to me.”
Ferhard stared at Legolas.
“I am the one who is responsible for the death of your son, not him” Legolas said indicating to Ezra. He took another small step before he continued. “This soldier is under my command, and his failure is a direct consequence of mine, no matter the circumstance.”
“Do not patronize me elf!” Ferhard told him through squinted eyes, pulling the blade closer to Ezra again.
“I would not belittle a father’s grief any more than I would condone the wrongful actions of any of my soldiers.” Legolas took another small step towards the man before he continued.
“I am honest in the words I speak. The young soldier you seized is new to my company.”
Ferhard looked at Legolas questioningly. Behind him the other men and rangers moved uncomfortably.
“Ezra’s actions were irresponsible. He might have slain an injured member from his own party with his rash action.”
Upon hearing these words a single tear flowed down Ezra’s face quietly and he bowed his head as much as the hold on him would allow.
“But” Legolas continued “like I said before, this failure is mine.”
“His arrow might have killed the boy, but I was the one who placed him there with a bow in his hand. The blame ultimately remains mine.”
Ferhard, unsure of what to do with the turn of events nervously looked towards his fellow men and then to the rangers, his eyes searching for answers when suddenly from behind a voice rang out in desperation “You dare not take their captain!”
Almost immediately affirmations where heard from all the men behind him. “They will have all our heads for this, if not the case already!” Another shouted. “Be done with this folly!” one of the rangers added from the side. Aragorn turned to him, and the look he gave the ranger could not be mistaken for anything but the command to keep his tongue.
“He is going to speak spells upon us!! See what your lust for revenge has brought upon the innocent!!” with that panic arose amongst the men. They feared the elves. They were scared. The man holding Ezra tightened his grip on the dagger again.
“Please, just hear me!” Legolas called in desperation. The outburst quieted down slowly until all that remained was an uncomfortable silence.
“I am not disputing your claims for justice.” Legolas said. “I am asking that you seek accountability form he who is truly to blame.” Legolas took another small step towards them. “Neither I, nor any of my soldiers will take action against you. You and all those traveling with you need not fear us. I give you my word.”
The man looked at Legolas with uncertainty as he continued. “Allow the guilty to carry their burden, but let the innocent be treated as such.” With these last words Legolas search for Ezra’s eyes. In Legolas eyes Ezra found none of the resentment he expected. All he saw was understanding and support. Ezra was still overwhelmed with this when he felt himself being pulled into a standing position by Ferhard.
The man looked towards Aragorn. Aragorn gave him a slight nod. Ferhard stood with the dagger still tightly clenched in his hand for a moment longer, but then slowly released his grip on Ezra’s tunic while removing the dagger from his throat.
Legolas saw the doubt the man’s eyes still held and he did the only other thing he could think of to ease the tension. He removed his twin blades slowly before handing it back to Ikaley, one of his royal guards standing behind him. His bow and quiver followed carefully. When he was unarmed Legolas turned to the Ferhard again.
“Please” Legolas said when he again took a small step towards them, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“Go.” was all Ezra heard from the man behind him. He hesitantly made his way towards the elves standing behind Legolas on unsteady feet.
Aragorn stepped towards Ferhard and put a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder. Legolas approached too, looking the man straight in the eyes.
“You have my word Ferhard; you will have justice for your son.”
With these words Mahan suddenly arrived, bursting thru the gathered villagers making his way towards them breathless. “What is going on here?”
The rangers met with the villagers only a couple of hours earlier. It was just after dawn when Aragorn’s scout reported the party of men, women and children, traveling towards the next town, still two weeks away. The village where they were staying was abandoned after yet another orc attack on it and they decided to leave most of what they owned behind and move towards the bigger town just beyond the mountain. Most of them had family there, so at least they would be set until the next spring. But the journey would take more than three weeks for them.
They traveled in fear. The men were no soldiers, and the women and children made moving quickly almost impossible. They were exhausted to say the least, their supplies were running low, and the fear of attack kept them from lighting any fire’s at night. Their journey was delayed more than once, and moral amongst them were running low. Most secretly felt that they would not survive the journey, and with winter coming sooner than expected, the cold air at night left most of them sick and coughing.
It was a sad site to behold. Aragorn and the rangers decided to escort them to the village, and being a healer himself, Aragorn set up to start helping them the best he could. But there were very little he could do with the limited supplies he had with him. None the less, four of his rangers left on a hunt, while the others set up camp and took up a watch. At least the villagers would sleep safe at night. It was amazing what a good night’s rest and a hot meal could do for the spirit. Aragorn knew this better than most. He did everything he could to ensure that at least they could provide this small comfort for these people.
He had learned of the incident in the woods two days ago. Some of the children were arguing amongst themselves about the elves, and he could not happen but overhear one of them saying that the elves were no better than orcs. Curious as to why a child would say such a thing, he soon found out about the orcs and the crushing encounter they survived. Realizing that nothing was as it seemed, he sought out the man leading the villagers on their journey.
Mahan, the leader of the village, gave Aragorn an account of the events, describing to him in detail everything that happened and at the end of the conversation they both concluded that the clash with the orcs was a case of being in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Too much of these unfortunate turn of events left many people dead since the evil stirred again. The nameless fear that took over the forest in Mirkwood was becoming evident wherever he went these days. Aragorn felt it in the very air he breathed.
“I have no quarrels with the elves, but I cannot ignore this.” Ferhard concluded his explanation for Mahan, choosing to exclude Legolas and Aragorn from their conversation.
Apprehension was clear in eyes Aragorn’s eyes. Legolas resigned himself to his fate and let his gaze wonder to his feet.
“What would you have me do Ferhard?” Mahan asked him agitated. “We cannot hold a captain of the elves till we reach the village! And we cannot have a trial for the first born without a council!” Mahan was frustrated and feared the implications of Ferhard’s deeds. “You will bring war upon us with your rash actions!”
Legolas looked up at Aragorn, and then back the two men. “Might I offer an alternative?” he asked. Both men turned to him surprised. Mahan nodded carefully.
“Why not let the rangers conduct the trial?” Aragorn turned to Legolas in surprise. “Our law cannot be applied; surely you understand we are not in a position to decide for them what should happen?”
“I am suggesting the rangers decide and rule this incident.” Legolas took a breath before he continued.
“This way, the men need not fear retaliation from the elves and the incident is ruled over by an uninvolved party, as would have been the case with a council.” Mahan looked at Aragorn. It made some sense, at least.
“What would the ruling of your law be, if this where allowed?” Mahan asked.
Aragorn cringed at the thought but he answered. “Our law is simple compared to that of the elves”.
Legolas fixed his gaze on Aragorn. “What happens to one who commands with incompetence?”
“You cannot mean ….”
“I do” Legolas interrupted. “Ezra acted while under my command. I will see no harm come to him because he followed me.” Legolas continued in a calm steady voice. “What does your law require?”
Aragorn hesitated but he continued. “Since it was not your order to release the arrow, a captain amongst the rangers…” Aragorn stopped himself mid sentence and sighed heavily.
“This sort of thing is unheard of amongst the elves!” Aragorn said, concern clearly showing on his face. “It is not something that would ever happen amongst your people.”
Legolas did not back down. Mahan too was looking at Aragorn for an answer. Aragorn closed his eyes and sighed again before he stated plainly “A captain of the rangers would be flogged.”
Mahan was taken aback with the answer. “Are you sure?” Mahan asked, nervously looking between Aragorn and the emotionless face of Legolas.
“Two dozen lashes.” Aragorn replied.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Legolas thanked Aragorn for the answer before he then turned to the two men and asked. “Will you consider this as fair Ferhard?” Ferhard stared at Legolas without giving him an answer. “Give us a moment?” Mahan asked as he guided Ferhard away to discuss the matter.
When Legolas looked to Aragorn he saw the turmoil in his friend’s eyes. Legolas gaze shifted to the trees beyond the villagers before he softly said. “It is not completely unheard of amongst all elves. Rivendell is different from Mirkwood.”
Aragorn paused a moment before he asked under his breath “How common is the sight of a prince under the whip?” A brief frown was the only reply Aragorn received from Legolas before Mahan and Ferhard returned.
The sun was fast approaching the mountains to the west by the time they all gathered again. “You do realize that his actions saved a lot of lives today.” Mahan said to Ferhard who was still glaring at Legolas. None of the venom had left Ferhard’s eyes and he made no attempt to hide his disgust for the elf.
The charge was laid. Legolas accepted guilt and the sentence were handed down. It was all done as formal as the circumstances would allow Aragorn to be. Aragorn concluded by instructing Mahan to appoint a person to deliver the flogging and then stepped aside. Never before had his own words tasted so bitter in his mouth. He was caught in a nightmare.
Without instruction Legolas started to remove his upper garments, handing it to Ikaley. He took hold of his hair and bound it in a tight knot away from his shoulders, exposing his back completely.
Legolas followed Mahan to a sturdy tree a few steps away. When they reached it, Mahan searched through the gathered faces. He was not going to do it himself and there was no one from the village he wanted to call upon. Desperate to get it all over with as soon as possible, Mahan turned to the rangers. “Captain!” he called out to Aragorn, indicating for him to come over.
Legolas turned towards Mahan in surprise. Aragorn’s blood ran cold and he sighed heavily as he slowly made his way towards the man and elf. Legolas did not meet his gaze, staring at the man before him instead. For the first time since this all started, Legolas felt his stomach fall to the floor.
When Aragorn reached them he did not bother to ask why he was called over. Instead his expressionless face was turned to Mahan who said: ““There is no one amongst my villagers I can call upon to perform the task.”
His eyes were searching those of Aragorn as he took a step towards him. “No one has ever done such a thing. I do not want him to suffer at the hands of anyone incompetent. I am assigning this task to you. Captain of the rangers, step forward and perform this punishment.”
Mahan was sensing the reluctance of Aragorn to comply. Aragorn realized with a sickening feeling he did authorize Mahan to appoint the flogger. He could not refuse the task now, that would be disputing the ruling completely, contradicting his own words.
Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his composure.
“Such a task has never fallen to me before.” Aragorn said in a last attempt to avoid it. He could wield a whip, but never could he have imagined himself striking a person with it, least of all a friend.
“Then today will be a day of many firsts.” Mahan replied sadly. He turned away from Aragorn and took Legolas by the shoulder, turning him towards the tree. Legolas did not resist. Instead he let himself be guided forward. Two men joined Mahan, pushing Legolas into the rough bark and stretching his arms around the thick trunk. They bound his wrists together with heavy rope at the far side of the tree, securing him totally immobile.
With Legolas bound, Mahan called over one of the villagers who stepped forward with a long leather whip coiled at his side. Taking it from the man Mahan held it out to Aragorn who took it reluctantly.
Aragorn took a deep breath trying to get his trembling hands under control. He turned to the rangers now standing behind him. The eyes of the men looking back at him showed him the same thing he was feeling: Exhaustion.
They were tired of what life in middle earth has become; one battle after another. The tension in the air was ever present. The memories of well earned victories against the dark drowned out by the nonstop death and despair they encountered everywhere.
Here it was again, claiming another friend. And this here and now, uncalled for, unexpected and uncharted rapids, washing all involved helplessly along in the turbulent confusion that was just another day in their lives.
Aragorn finally took a couple of steps back and then turned towards Legolas. Legolas glanced back over his shoulder at his friend. He knew his friend well enough to know this was breaking his heart. Legolas gave Aragorn a small nod before he turned his eyes to the tree before him again. ‘Permission?’ Aragorn thought dimly before he forced himself to face the rest of this cursed day.
The whip cut a thin line across Legolas’s shoulders when it made contact. Legolas flinched, but managed to remain quiet. A cold sensation ran through his body, but it lasted only briefly. What followed felt like fire exploding all over his back. The second stripe was laid across his lower back, the tip of the whip curling around his side, cutting into the soft skin just below the ribs. Aragorn cursed softly under his breath when he saw this, and adjusted his footing so that it would not happen again.
Legolas was clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep from screaming out in pain, but a low grunt escaped none the less. On the third lash, Legolas released a trembling breath he did not realize he’d been holding. This was a lot harder than he had anticipated. His ears were buzzing, almost drowning out all sound.
Aragorn felt his arm grow weary. He was clenching the whip handle so tightly, he had lost all feeling in his hand. But he continued methodically. His actions no longer guided by thought, just the rhythmical swing of the whip through the air. He was forcing himself not to see what he was doing and slowly the count progressed.
Another angry welt. Another silent flinch. Aragorn did not feel the anger that ignited inside his chest unexpectedly. Dark and hateful thoughts suddenly consumed him.
When the whip flew forward again it held rage, unlike any of lashes before. Legolas was pushed into the tree when this new pain washed thru him. His knuckles turned white as he balled his fists with all his strength, clenching his teeth to override the pain. Unable to do anything else, he leaned his forehead against the unforgiving bark and silently prayed for the strength to endure.
Aragorn realized too late that anger in his action. He had unintentionally used the whip as an outlet for the rage he felt. It all happened so quickly. Unshed tears burned his eyes. ‘What have I done?’ His thoughts screamed in his head, his will spent on trying to keep his composure.
He raised the whip again, landing it across Legolas’s shoulders leaving another bloody line none the less. ‘Three more to go’ He thought, yet he hardly had the energy to lift his arm any more.
When it was done the whip fell to the ground without ceremony. Most of the rangers turned and left the scene in silence. Their hearts were heavy with the fate that had befallen their captain. The villagers did much the same, only the elves made their way towards Legolas without seeking approval or permission.
Aragorn forced his feet to move towards Legolas. Ikaley was already by his side and he was helping Legolas stand on shaky feet while Ezra cut away the bonds that held him. Aragorn had a full view of his back as he approached. The damage was severe. Some of the cuts were deep and bleeding freely.
“Get him to my tent.” Aragorn said. Legolas looked at Ikaley, and then to Aragorn.
“I need to see the stars.” Legolas said softly.
“You need to rest Legolas.”
With Ezra leading, Ikaley and Legolas carefully made their way over to the other elves. Aragorn remained rooted on the spot until Legolas said to him: “This could very well be the only time I would not resist the efforts of a healer.” His voice was light and almost playful given the situation, but Aragorn knew it was the prince of Mirkwood speaking, not his friend.
Even now, he took it upon himself to assure his company and a friend that he was in control. Ikaley was very well aware of this too, and he in turn gave Aragorn an encouraging smile. He knew the friendship they shared was destined in the stars, even if sometimes they could not see the stars through the clouds.
Habit instructed Aragorn to clean the blood stained rags and bloody water, but the task suddenly stood like a mountain before him. His arms felt heavy at his sides and his feet would not move. He was numb with exhaustion. Legolas sat close to the camp fire, his back now dressed and cleaned, no longer visible under his cloak which was wrapped comfortably around him.
Aragorn finally sat down next to Legolas. The two friends stared into the fire in silence. What was usually a cherished time amongst old friends had turned into nothing more than two defeated souls unable to communicate. Or at least that is what Aragorn felt.
The events of the afternoon were plaguing his mind. The anger he felt driving reason and control from his mind, tortured his soul. When it exploded, it tore him from the inside out, shredding his heart to pieces. He felt the darkness embedding like shrapnel into his very being. And there it remained, waiting for the opportunity to consume and destroy him completely. With this darkness came the numbing sadness that now radiated from him, shielding him from the comforting warmth of the fire.
Legolas was the first to finally speak softly. “No one else noticed.”
Aragorn turned defeated eyes towards his friend. ‘What did it matter if they did not notice?’ Aragorn thought dimly. ’You know the truth’. He turned his eyes towards the fire again.
“I need to apologize to you Aragorn.” Legolas said after another long silence. Aragorn almost smiled at the ridiculous elf beside him. Had it been any other day, he would have come up with a witty response to such a ridiculous statement. But at this time, the simple act of smiling would take more energy than he had left in his whole body. Never before had he felt this tired.
“I had not the right to ask you to rule today.” Legolas sighed heavily, turning his face towards the stars shining brightly above them in the crisp night sky. “I should have just gone with them to the town and settled it there, but I was afraid.”
Aragorn remained silent, tensing at the confession of fear from one of the bravest he knew. ‘What are you doing Legolas?’ he thought to himself.
Legolas did not wait for a response and continued softly. “I was not afraid of what their council might rule. I feared the journey there.”
Aragorn turned confused eyes to his friends, Legolas swallowed hard before he explained. “In all my years on middle earth, I have never been forced to travel amongst those whom I knew held anger towards me.”
Aragorn cast his eyes on the fire again, allowing Legolas to continue. “Doing what we do, we rely on those who travel with us more than we rely on brothers. We trust them with our lives every time we turn our backs.”
Aragorn understood all too well what his friend was saying.
“It was my fear that forced you to be the one at my back today, Aragorn.”
Unshed tears burned in Aragorn’s eyes and he blinked it away quickly. Legolas took a deep breath before he turned to face his friend, forcing a response this time.
“You felt the whip I wielded today.” Aragorn finally said. “You know what possessed me.” Legolas nodded. “I do, and at the time I did not understand.” Aragorn turned to Legolas concerned.
“To say now, that it did not….does not, matter, would be a lie.” Aragorn was suddenly apprehensive as he waited for Legolas to continue. “But tell me son of Arathorn, would you have been able to share your anger and fear with me, was the situation not forced upon you?”
Aragorn felt uncharacteristically vulnerable, but Legolas’s eyes held comfort and understanding for his mortal friend. “You too, fear the journey before you.”
Aragorn turned his gaze to the fire again, unwilling to look at Legolas while he continued. “You refuse to lift your eyes and look beyond.”
Legolas smiled as Aragorn recited the words of Elrond. “….to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin.”
“Which way do you intend to turn?”
Aragorn whipped his head to the side, furiously glaring at Legolas. Legolas smiled, mischief shining in his eyes. “I am just asking. A prince needs to make provisions before embarking on any road.” He said tauntingly. Aragorn stared for a moment, but a smile eventually managed to escape.
“I will journey with you, son of Arathorn. Be it by your side or in distant lands. We will travel towards whatever end, together. For as long as I breathe, you will not be alone. You are my brother as I am yours, now and always.”
Despite all the effort from the darkness that smothered his heart earlier, Aragorn found comfort in the words of his friend. They sat in silence together; the day always destined to end this way.
Undeniable hope broke the surface in the spirit of the ranger for the first time in many months. Aragorn physically felt a burden lift inside him. And with Legolas sitting next to him, he was able to breathe again.
Somehow the road ahead seemed less daunting when he finally laid himself down to sleep.