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Always the Same  by Laikwalâssê

Always The Same

Part3: men

Faramir walked leisurely down the street of the forth level of the white city and let the sun warm his face. He smiled. The afternoon was at his free disposal- no council meetings, no petitions, and no urgent messages to be read or sent. He would meet with some of his old friends at his favourite tavern and enjoying being only Faramir, not the Steward of this city and the King´s right hand. He loved his job, really, but he would not let pass such an opportunity.

Suddenly however he heard a suppressed cry of pain and voices raised in anger. He quickened his pace and rounded a corner into a hidden backyard and saw a few youngsters kicking another boy, lying on the ground with their boots. “What is the meaning of this?” he shouted angrily and loudly to get the youngsters’ attention.” Three heads turned around and for a second Faramir thought that they would attack him, but as they recognized who was standing before them they took flight.

Faramir however had already recognized them and knew them well. This three were well known troublemakers. The Steward shrugged. He would deal with them later.

As Faramir hastened toward the boy already struggling to come up, he froze as he saw the youngster’s face. The boy was none other than Eldarion, son of the King. Faramir quickly knelt and looked worried at the bloody face.

“Valar, Eldarion. Are you hurt?” he asked laying a comforting hand on the young man´s shoulder. “I´m fine,” Eldarion said coolly and shrugged the hand from his shoulder. Faramir sighed. Eldarion was twelve and very difficult to manage at this age. He was disrespectful and disobedient on purpose and often angered his father beyond comprehension.

Supposedly very normal for a boy his age, Faramir thought, but sometimes it really got too far and Aragorn´s patience ran slowly thin. Now the escapades seemed to have risen to another level. “That I see,” he answered, giving the lad a handkerchief to press at his bleeding nose. With an angry glare the boy took it and tried to rise.

“Ah, keep sitting and lean your head back.” Faramir ordered, quickly pressing the youngster down again.

“I’m fine. Stop fretting.” Eldarion hissed and sprung up. If Faramir had not caught him, he would have fallen flat on his face. Lying again on the ground, Eldarion´s face went white and he coughed painfully. Faramir paled. Maybe the boy was more injured than it appeared?

Without further comment he scooped the boy up into his arms and begun walking toward the House of Healing. “Don’t worry, young one, Haleth will have a look at you.” Wriggling the boy wanted to hear none of it. “Faramir, let me down. I’m fine. Please, not the healer.” As the Steward saw into the pleading eyes his heart nearly gave in. He had always loved the boy like his own.

“You are injured Eldarion, and your father would skin me alive, if I did not bring you to a healer.” Sighing in defeat, the boy hung his head. Faramir shook his head. What was wrong with the boy? What had just happened? He would find out - yes, that he would.

As he stepped over the threshold of the house of healing, Haleth, the master-healer looked up sharply, as he saw whom Faramir carried in. Looking at the boy he inhaled sharply. “What happened?” he asked, although he could guess the story behind this. He steered Faramir toward the examination table. However, before Faramir could answer, Eldarion hissed. “Faramir is overreacting, as always.”

Exchanging a quick look with the son of Denethor the healer sighed. “I do not think so, judging by your appearance, young man. And now stop complaining and let me look at you.”

Looking angrily at the healer Eldarion nonetheless laid down on the table and inhaled sharply, as the healer prodded his ribs. After this he inspected the boy´s nose and a gash on his brow. “This time it isn´t harmless, Eldarion. You have two cracked ribs, several bad bruises and a gash that needs stitches.” The boy did not react, only pressed his lips together into a thin line.

“This time?” Faramir asked incredulously, not liking the sound of this one bit. Seeing the slightly guilty look on the healer´s face and the openly angry look on Eldarion´s face Faramir swallowed not sure if he wanted to hear this. “Well?” he asked nonetheless as no answer was forthcoming.

Taking heart the healer looked up. “This is not the first time that I have had him on my table,” the healer said with a meaningful look towards the still scowling boy. However, before he could utter another word Eldarion looked up and glared at the healer.

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone. You’ve betrayed me and are no longer my friend. The boy was sobbing openly now, but if from pain or his hurt feelings Faramir could not tell. With a gentle hand Faramir again stopped the boy from rising clearly seeing the pain on his face.

“Haleth, would you please be so kind to enlighten me?” he asked very calmly, but anyone who knew him would have recognized that he was at the limit of his patience and Haleth and Faramir were long time friends. Seeing that the situation was beyond rescuing the healer took a deep breath.

“Eldarion has been here for healing four previous times after some fight he had and I treated him, after he had pleaded to me to never tell his parents what happened. The injuries were superficial every time and so I agreed, yet not without bidding him to tell his father. But it was never as bad as this time.”

Now Faramir was confused. Eldarion had some kind of trouble and from the look of it some kind of real trouble, but why in all of Arda did he not tell his father or mother who was behind all this? Why did he silently suffer and hide his misery? Aragorn and Arwen loved the boy dearly and would surely do everything in their power to help him. Looking at the boy again Faramir sighed.

“Eldarion, please, I will only help you. What happened today and why have you no faith in your parents or in me?” he asked with a slightly hurt tone in his voice lifting the boy´s chin with his finger. Still refusing to answer his question Faramir straightened. “All right young man, it´s your decision. Haleth you keep him here and I will inform the King.”

This finally got a reaction from the child. Grabbing Faramir´s sleeve the boy directed watery eyes toward the Steward. “No, Faramir, don´t tell him, you will only make it worse,” he pleaded. Faramir was at a loss. Why was the lad so afraid to tell his parents? Aragorn and Arwen would be outraged, when they found out that someone had hurt their boy. But they would stand behind him no matter what happened, so what was the problem?

Focusing on bringing this to an end Faramir shook his head. “I´m sorry, Eldarion but I must. Your father would never forgive me and would never trust me again.” The boy slowly took his hand back and hung his head in defeat. Faramir directed a last look toward the healer with the order not to let the boy go and left the room quickly.

 

………………………………………………………….

Taking a deep breath Faramir stopped at the King´s study. As he heard several voices he was not so sure anymore to interrupt. “Faramir, please come in, don´t hesitate.” The Steward’s hand froze in mid-motion at hearing Arwen´s voice. Over the years he had almost forgotten the fact of the exceptionally good hearing of the firstborn. He pushed the door handle down and was surprised to see not only Aragorn and Arwen, but also Legolas.

When had he arrived? Over the trouble with Eldarion he must have missed it. With a nod he greeted the prince. Legolas inclined his head and looked at him questioningly. Sighing and knowing that he would start an uproar he directed his gaze toward Aragorn. “May I have a word with you?” he asked, not risking a glance at Arwen who also studied him intensely. Instantly the happy mood in the room changed, as everyone felt that something was amiss.

As Legolas wanted to rise and leave the room, the King quickly hold up his hand. “Please Legolas stay. We have no secrets before you.” With a gracious nod, the wood elf resumed his seat, albeit somewhat stiffly, clearly sensing the sudden tension in the room. Gesturing his Steward into a chair, Aragon tried to smile.

“Well, Faramir, what is it?” As he did not know how to start, Faramir made it blunt. “Aragorn, it’s your son. He´s in the House of Healing at the moment and….” As he had expected he never had a chance to finish his sentence. All three occupants of the room had sprung up from their chairs and began asking him questions at the same time. As the first confusion abated somewhat, Faramir held up his hand in a desperate attempt to be heard and looked into the worried and anxious faces.

“Aragorn, Arwen, it´s not that bad. Two cracked ribs, a few bruises and a split brow. Haleth has already taken care of him and he is undoubtly sleeping by now.” Sighing Aragorn laid a reassuring arm around his wife´s shoulder. “What happened – this time?” Aragorn asked. Faramir swallowed. The irate tone of the King indicated clearly that the boy had stressed his parent’s patience of late. As he looked at the pleading eyes of Arwen he quickly continued.

“I do not know the whole story, but this afternoon I stumbled upon him, as three other boys attacked him. I stopped the fight and asked what happened but he refused to speak to me.” As the scowl on the King´s face deepened Faramir quickly added.

“Aragorn, this time I think there is more behind this then a simple quarrel between youngsters. This fight looked serious and the lad was really distressed.” “And…..” “And?” Aragorn inquired. Looking from one elf to the other and eventually back to his King Faramir swallowed again. “And he begged me not to tell you.”

With a small sound of dismay Arwen looked aghast at her husband. Why would her boy not come to her with his problems? “Could you recognize the other boys?” Legolas asked, trying to distract the royal couple somewhat. Farmair nodded. “Yes and I have already sent for them.” “I want to look after him,” Arwen said in a choked voice and the King only nodded.

“You are right. We can discuss this later. Legolas, would you like to accompany us?” Knowing that the boy would be delighted to see the wood elf again, Arwen smiled a little. “Of course,” the fair haired elf stated quickly and left the room after the parents. Faramir sighed again. That was done.

 

………………………………………………………….

With quick strides Faramir followed the royal couple and the wood-elf, as they walked through the courtyard toward the House of Healing almost unable to cope with their hurried steps. He was suddenly no longer sure if he had acted rightly to betray the youngster’s trust, but then he shook his head. Of course he had done the right thing. Eldarion was in trouble and he would never knowingly let come harm to the boy he loved so dearly.

All would turn out well once the boy had opened up to them. As the King opened the heavy wooden door and held it open for his three followers they came face to face with the healer already awaiting them. Stopping Aragorn greeted the healer with a curt nod. Haleth inclined his head at the King and his wife and smiled as he saw the prince of Mirkwood, also visiting his halls. Courtesies were not necessary and seeing the urgent longing in the Queen´s eyes, he swallowed.

“Don´t worry my Lord, my Lady,” he begun with a controlled voice, trying to calm the parents somewhat, “it’s nothing serious. He has two cracked ribs, a few bruises and a minor gash at his brow. I´ve already taken care of him and given him something against the pain. I think he is sleeping by now.”

“Very clever,” Faramir thought. The healer had wisely delayed the meeting of the boy with his parents until the first shock and anger had subsided. Bewilderment on both parents’ faces was clearly to see. Aragorn would have loved to exchange a few words with his troublesome offspring and Arwen would have liked to reassure the boy that all would be well.

“Can we see him?” Arwen asked directing a pleading gaze at the healer and a placating look at her husband. Both men were not able to refuse her. The healer smiled and inclined his head. “Of course,” he answered quickly and let the four visitors into a small room occupied only by a bed and a few chairs. Arwen wriggled past her husband and sat on the bed of the sleeping boy. With tears in her eyes she softly brushed her fingertips over the already blooming bruise on her child’s face around the brow.

The King also sat down and his grim features softened instantly, as he looked at the pale face of the youngster. Nonetheless he let a critical eye wander over the boy’s injuries, focusing on the bandage around his torso. He listened quietly to the boy’s breathing until he was reassured that it was not laboured. He squeezed his wife´s shoulder and stood to give Legolas the opportunity to sit down and look at the boy.

Seeing that Arwen was quietly talking with Legolas, he strode over to the healer. “I thank you for your care, but tomorrow I want to have a word with you. I will await you in my study.” After a silent nod from the healer the King straightened. “I would like to leave him here for the night and in the morning we will take him back home.”

Knowing that the King was both displeased with him and a competent healer himself, Haleth nodded again. He would spare his arguments for the morrow when common sense had returned. As expected the royal couple and Legolas refused to leave the boy´s bedside. Haleth dragged pillows and blankets into the room to make the waiting a bit more comfortable, and arranged for hot tea and a light meal to be served at first light. He then excused himself to look after his other patients.

Faramir had left a short while before to arrange the daily business, with a promise to return. Legolas stretched his long legs to banish the stiffness from sitting in a chair all night and smiled at the King. Feeling the gaze upon him Aragorn turned. “What?” he asked irritated, still not knowing if he should scold the boy or embrace him. “Nothing,” the wood elf answered innocently. “Only a memory.”

Knowing that Legolas was referring to his father sitting on his bed while he was a child in Rivendell the King’s scowl deepened but the only effect was that the smiles on Arwen’s and Legolas´ faces widened.

Just as Faramir and the healer returned the boy moaned and struggled to open his eyes. Moving while waking he winced as his ribs protested the movement. “Easy, Eldarion,” Aragorn ordered looking intently at the boy´s face.

As the youngster opened his eyes he looked confused at the four pairs of eyes looking down on him. As memory returned he sighed and looked away. He did not know what was worse; the anxious eyes of his mother, or the disappointed and yet worried look on his father´s face. He only had had a few bruises and was not dying! Could they not let him alone? With a gentle hand the King turned the boy´s head back and forced the young prince to look at him.

“How do you feel?” he asked trying to level his voice in a neutral tone. Sighing the boy wriggled out of the grasp. “I´m fine, Ada, don´t worry,” was the reply. Not fooled in the slightest the King still gazed at his son. “Eldarion, what happened?” he asked still not letting any emotion color his voice. As the boy only pressed his lips together the King looked desperately at his wife.

Arwen took a small hand into hers. “Eldarion, my dear, please we want to help you. What ails you?” the Queen tried but had as little success as her husband. Legolas and Faramir exchanged a quick look, but before they could intervene the King rose.

“All right, young one. Are you able to dress and walk home, or should we help you?” he asked, his face expressionless.

Rising with a grimace the twelve-year old began to put on his trousers. “I can manage,” he said without looking up. Exchanging a quick look with his wife and earning a reassuring nod the King strode toward the door.

With the door handle in hand he turned. “I await you within the hour in my study, Eldarion,” he said with a stern look toward his son. Without another word he was gone. Now Eldarion raised questioning eyes at his mother. “This you have brought upon yourself, my dear,” Arwen answered and stood. “Fine!” the boy answered curtly and walked out the door. “Where is the little boy, who was so eager to snuggle in my arms?” the Queen sighed and hurried after her son. Equally sighing Faramir let himself sink back into the chair. “Are they always like this? I´m no longer sure if I will be able to deal with any future children of mine.”

Legolas only laughed. “And this is only the beginning.” Laughing again at the shocked face of the Steward, the wood-elf turned serious again. “Have you already talked to the culprits of this mess?” Angrily Faramir shook his head.

“I’ve already sent for them, but all three have disappeared. Their parents seemed not to care and we haven´t found them yet, but we will,” Faramir said with determination.

Nodding Legolas followed the Steward out of the room.

 

……………………………………

As he heard a knock on his study door Aragorn looked up. “Enter!” he called and braced himself for what was to come. As Eldarion entered Aragorn looked at his boy closely. Nothing had changed. He exhibited the same defiant and stubborn look.

“Sit down,” he ordered and waited until the boy had clambered onto one of the big chairs before his desk. As the silence stretched the King sighed. “Well, Eldarion. What have you to tell me?” Not raising his eyes the boy shrugged. “Nothing!”

“Nothing?” the King queried with a raised eyebrow. “I think you have a lot to tell me. For example what this fight was about and why it wasn´t the first time?” As the boy again refused to speak the King tried another approach. He knelt down at eye level with the child and took both hands in his. “Eldarion, please speak with me,” he nearly pleaded. “What is this all about? Why do you not trust us? Have Nana or I said something that has upset you?”

Finally looking up the boy raised his chin. “No! Are we finished?” Quickly shoving back the rising anger inside of him the King rose to his feet. “All right, young man. If you have no trust in us, then so be it. You will go straight to your room and stay there until you decide to answer some of my questions to my satisfaction…” Springing up the prince´eyes went wide. “But, Ada!”

“Eldarion, no!” Aragorn interrupted sharply making the boy wince. “I’m very disappointed with you. I will not tolerate my son fighting on the streets with others. You will stay in your chambers until you have changed your mind and tell me the reason behind all this. I’m very angry with you, especially for the worry you have caused your mother. You may go.” Glaring a last time at his father the boy turned and slammed the door shut.

Aragorn sighed, as the door opened again and his wife entered the room. Undoubtedly she had heard the whole exchange. “What should we do with him?” the King whispered holding his wife close. “Do not be too harsh with him, he´s still injured after all,” the Queen whispered back. “I only want to protect him.”

“I know. I think we should grant him a few hours alone and then I will look in on him. Maybe he will have calmed down by then.” Aragorn nodded. Yes, let him sleep and then see what the new day would bring.

 

…………………………………………..

Eldarion slammed the door to his chamber shut and flung himself face down and fully clothed onto his bed. He winced as his ribs protested against this. It was so unfair. He had worried his mother, had angered his father, and had pushed a friend back and for what? For these idiots who had been making him miserable for a long time now. He was a coward. He could not stand against their taunts and he did not have the courage to open up to his loved ones. This could not go on. His father had said it clearly. He was a disappointment and they were better off without him. They did not love him anymore. He would leave. Then they would not worry about a son who caused only trouble, and his father would have no reason to feel disappointed any longer.

His decision made he sprang up and clambered over the balcony onto the night-dark street. He would put as much distance as possible between him and his home and would disappear into the grey stones of the city. Yes that was the only option left to him.

………………………………….

In the early hours of the morning Aragorn still sat in his study too agitated to sleep. His thoughts circled around only one question. When had he lost the close contact with his son? When had it happened that the youngster kept all to himself? He was once such an open and trusting little boy, but now? He could not even mark the moment when something had gone wrong. Just as he wanted to rise to open the balcony window, Arwen rushed into the room.

He instantly felt a knot forming in his stomach, as he saw the worried expression on his wife´s face. “What happened?” he asked before she had the chance to utter a word. The Queen strode toward him and nearly choked on her words. “He’s gone.”

The King’s brows drew together. “What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?” he asked more sharply than he had intended. “He’s not in his room. I’ve searched everywhere, in the kitchen, the hallways, even the cellar, but….” Nearly choking on her anguish, the Queen stopped directing watery eyes at her husband. Still not believing what he had heard, Aragorn shook his head. “He has run off? But why…?”

And then an icy hand grabbed his heart. He had made another mistake. The boy´s trouble seemed to be much greater than he had thought. So great indeed, that he saw no other solution than to run off.

Briefly the King closed his eyes. This was his fault. He had let his son down. Although he loved his son more than anything in the world, he had not truly listened to him and had not been there when he needed him the most. He had punished him without trying to out find what was wrong. And now he had run off in the middle of the night and was alone somewhere in the city. His heart constricted with the images what could happen to a little boy alone and distressed. Swallowing he looked into his wife’s fear filled eyes.

“We will find him - this I promise you,” he said determined and called for his aide who was surely awake by now with all the commotion. “Linhir, please summon Lord Faramir and Lord Legolas to my study at once. Further I will speak with the guard of the citadel gate.” The sleepy aide nodded and quickly turned to obey his Lord’s commands, sensing his distress and need for urgency. As Arwen had calmed somewhat, they sat down to discuss their next actions. Only minutes later the door opened again and Faramir and Legolas, still in their night clothes entered the room.

As they saw the tear streaked face of the Queen and the worried face of the King both paled and swallowed. Legolas found his voice first. “Estel, Arwen what happened?” he asked, although he could pretty well guess that something had happened to Eldarion.

The King looked at both and straightened. “Eldarion has run off,” he said simply. More words were not necessary. Faramir swallowed nervously. “Maybe, he’s still in the house, hiding somewhere. I will instantly order a search of the whole building,” Faramir offered, already half-turned on his way to instruct guards. “He’s no longer in the house,” Arwen answered calmly.

The wood-elf did not doubt this statement for one moment. If the Queen said the boy was no longer here than they could spare the search through the house. Legolas looked at the King and saw the emotions on the concerned face. Anger warred with guilt and fear. “Estel, I will dress and then go and search for him. Don´t worry, I will find him.”

Aragorn nodded. “Wait, I will accompany you with a contingent of guards.” Slowly shaking his head Legolas laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “No, Estel. I will go alone. You two should stay here and coordinate the search and be here in case he decides to come back on his own. This way I´m independent and will find him faster.”

Seeing the sense in argument the King nodded. “Maybe you are right. Please make haste.” Without further words the wood elf turned and left the room. Aragorn sighed. He trusted his friend with his life. If someone was able to find the boy before harm could reach him, then it would be Legolas. “And I will organize the search at first light,” Faramir said, also turning and leaving as he received a grateful nod from the royal couple. Heavily the King sank beside his wife onto the cushioned chair and then they waited.

 

………………………………………

Eldarion ran along the darkened streets not knowing where to go. He only knew that he had to get away – away from his parents and away from his troubles. He stumbled along and at last spied the entrance to the underground system of sewage. Yes, he could hide there for a while. No one would enter there willingly.

With tears streaming down his face he scrambled through the narrow opening, tearing his tunic in the process and dived into the stale and unpleasant atmosphere under the city. He shuddered at the wet air and ever present air draft down here despite the cloak around him.

Not seeing beyond his feet he trudged onward never recognizing the crumbled shelf of the wall he was climbing on. With a startled cry he slipped on the crumbling stone and plunged into some sort of ravine, slithering down the slope with no chance to stop his descent. After endless terrifying minutes he slammed hard up against some obstacle and cried out in pain as his right ankle cracked in the process. When the pain had subsided to more bearable levels he groped around and discovered some sort of fence shutting this side of the tunnel.

He tried to rise but sank back with a cry of pain as his broken ankle protested violently against the movement. Sobbing desperately now, he sat there shivering in his now soaked clothes. What had he gotten himself into? Being at home safe in his father’s arms didn’t seem so bad any more. Suddenly his sobs stopped, as he heard a faint sound. First he could not identify it, but then he did, and his heart froze.

He heard the sound of water – rushing water. These tunnels were regularly flushed to erase the disposal of the city. His father had told him a thousand times to stay out of here because the current of the water was dangerous even to an adult. He had totally forgotten about that. And now he sat there, unable to move and awaiting a great wave of water that would either squeeze him dead against the fence or drown him. With rising panic he screamed at the top of his lungs for help. But this deep down and with the ever increasing noise of the water his chances of being heard were slim to none-existent.

 

…………………………………………………………

Legolas ran along the dark streets trying to imagine where the little boy might have gone. He checked places he would have hidden, but could not find the boy. His fear and anxiety grew with every passing minute. He was afraid that the boy had already gotten into trouble. ‘Please let him be all right’, he pleaded with the Powers while he tried not to think about what the death of the boy would do to his parents.

Catching his breath he stopped and listened, but the slowly rising din of the awakening city made this near impossible. With a heavy heart, yet with his senses on high alert he walked onward hoping to find the desperate child, yet at the same time knowing how unlikely it was in such a big city to find someone who didn’t want to be found.

He stopped and turned back. The boy could not have gotten that far, even with his head start of two hours. As the first carts rumpled through the streets on their daily business he sighed, now robbed of the ability to find the boy by some noise Eldarion he would have made. He leaned against a stone wall and briefly closed his eyes to extend his senses a bit farther.

After a while he stopped and turned back towards the Citadel to assist Faramir and his troops in their systematic search. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed something on a stone wall that was out of place. He stopped to investigate and saw a torn piece of a bright red fabric hanging on a jagged piece of wood from an old little gate leading to the city’s underground.

He did not know why, but he knew instantly that this was the sign he had searched for and that it belonged to Eldarion. Squeezing himself with much difficulty through the narrow opening he nearly slipped on the moist stones lining a tunnel under the city. He nearly choked at the dank and stale air here and prayed freverently that the boy had not scampered around here in the dark.

But this was just his kind of luck, wasn’t it? Again he closed his eyes and listened intently, but all he heard was the rushing of water. As he just wanted to turn and head out, he heard another sound faintly above the rushing water flushed with high pressure though the tunnel. As his mind identified the sound his heart froze. What he had heard was clearly the crying of a child.

Again knowing that this could only be the boy he was searching for, he briefly hesitated. Should he call for help, or…judging by the desperate crying of the child and the rushing of the water, Eldarion was in serious trouble and he needed help quickly. Without further thought the elf ran along the slippery path, trying to detect where the crying came from. Not an easy task with so many turning and twisting tunnels.

Finally he got closer and as he rounded a corner his heart nearly missed a beat. Pressed against a fence by the rushing water was the little prince with his head barely above the water. Only a few minutes more and he would drown. Without thinking the wood-elf sprung into the hip-deep water and gasped as the icy liquid nearly swept him off his feet. There was no chance for a child to fight against that current.

“Eladarion, hold on, I´m coming,” he shouted, but the child could not hear him. His head was almost under water now and he was relentlessly pressed against the fence. Using the current to his advantage Legolas let himself float toward the boy. Inches from the fence he put his feet in front of him and groaned at the pressure of the water that pressed him against the obstacle.

With some determination he got a good hold on the fence only inches from the boy. He reached one hand out and grabbed the youngster’s chin to pull his head above the surface of the water. The boy spluttered, sobbed, screamed and thrashed.  He was completely unaware that someone was trying to help him. After a while Legolas’ feet and arms began to tremble with the exertion of holding both himself and the boy upright and out of the water.

Again and again he had tried to speak to the boy, but the child was terrified and incoherent. Then slowly but noticeably the pull from the water lessened and the height of the water level decreased until the two friends sank to the now still wet but waterless ground totally exhausted and catching their breath. Rising on his knees Legolas crawled over to the motionless child, afraid that his efforts were in vain after all.

As he carefully turned the little body over he sighed. The boy was alive and looked at him with wide eyes. “L…Legolas?” he sobbed. Gently pressing the boy to his chest the wood elf inhaled. “Yes, little one. It’s me. You are safe now.” Sobbing now violently the boy threw his arms around the elf’s neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t get out…and then the water came…. and….”

Stroking the wet hair soothingly Legolas tried to calm the boy. “Shht, it’s all right. Don’t worry, I will get you out of here.” As the sobs had subsided somewhat Legolas untangled himself from the boy’s choking grasp and looked him over. “Are you injured?” he asked seeing nothing apart some scratches and bruises.

“I think my ankle is broken. It hurts fiercely,” the boy answered. Quickly examining the leg Legolas could only affirm the statement. “I fear you are right. I will carry you then. Let’s get out of here quickly before the next rush.” Seeing the fearful widening of the boy’s eyes the elf quickly regretted his words and rose lifting the boy in his arms.

Snuggling close to his chest the boy did not make a sound as his injured leg was jostled in the process. Carefully setting one foot in front of the other the wood elf retraced his steps back until he reached the entrance through which he had entered. “Will Ada be angry at me?” the boy asked miserably, directing pleading eyes at the elf. Legolas smiled. “I think he will be very happy to have you back. With a little cooperation from your side all will be well again.”

Nodding and closing his eyes the boy finally succumbed to his exhaustion. Minutes later the elf emerged from the small opening and came face to face with an astounded and very worried Faramir.

 

………………………………………

“Legolas”, the Steward cried in immense relief, seeing the elf emerge from the underground system with the missing prince in his arms. Taking in their bedraggled and very wet appearances Faramir could pretty well guess what had happened. “Are you two all right?” he asked.

“Eldarion has broken his ankle, I fear.” Legolas responded. “Faramir, how did you know to look here?”

The Steward smiled. “I’ve grown up in this city and the dangerous places are often the most appealing. I followed my instinct.” Legolas smiled back. “I will quickly bring him home to end the worrying,” Legolas announced, feeling how the boy shivered in his arms. Faramir nodded, already sending his men back with the order to inform the King of their eminent arrival.

 

………………………………..

The King rose quickly, as a knock sounded on his study door. He took a deep breath as he opened the door and saw one of Faramir´s man standing there breathing heavily. Arwen was standing only inches behind him.

“My Lord, my Lady. Lord Faramir sent me to tell you that your son has been found. Lord Faramir and Lord Legolas are already on their way back.” The King and Queen´s sighs were audible and made the guard smile. “Thank you for bringing this message so quickly, have you any other details?” the King asked relieved beyond measure. “I’m sorry, my Lord, but I was only ordered to bring the message. I haven´t seen them personally.” Nodding the King dismissed the guard.

As the door was closed he turned and drew his wife into a gentle embrace feeling her trembling with joy and anticipation. Pacing the hallway they did not have to wait very long. Hearing a commotion in the courtyard the King opened the door and rushed outside closely followed by his wife. Standing on the steps they waited impatiently until the party came into view. Aragorn narrowed his eyes, as he saw his son snuggled up to Legolas’ chest, pale and dripping wet.

Arwen gripped his arm nearly painfully. “He´s injured,” she whispered. Nodding the King hurried down the steps as Legolas and the others arrived there. Taking the nearly asleep child in his arms the King looked at his best friend. “What happened?” he asked. Looking back the elf tried to smile. “I think his ankle is broken, and he must get quickly out of the wet clothing.”

Nodding the King cradled the boy closer to his chest being careful not to jostle the injured leg. “Thank you my friend. I know there is more to this story, but I think this can wait for later. Will you accompany us?” “Of course.” The elf smiled and climbed up the stairs to embrace the Queen and reassure her that all would be well. The King quickly thanked Farmair and his men, dismissed them and carried the boy inside the house to his private healing chamber, reserved only for family members. Closely followed by his wife, the King laid the boy down on the examination table and Legolas closed the door.

Arwen stroke the flushed face of her son whispering soothing words to the now silently crying child. While the King washed his hands Arwen peeled the child out of his wet clothing and dressed him in a warm sleeping gown. After a questioning look from his wife the King nodded. “I can manage. We will meet in the library later.”

Nodding the two elves left after each of them had kissed the boy. After they had left the King turned back to his son and hugged the miserable looking boy gently. “Eldarion, I’m so glad you are here. I will look at your foot and make you feel better, but first you must drink this.”

The boy only nodded, as his father held a cup to his lips. Too tired to resist he swallowed the bitter contents. Only minutes later he was fast asleep and did not feel anything as the King set the broken ankle and splinted and bandaged the little leg securely. After this he carried the boy to a nearby bed and settled him carefully. After he was sure that the boy rested peacefully he left the room with the door slightly open to the adjacent library, joining his wife and friend.

 

……………………………………………………..

After changing in some dry clothes Legolas related the tale of the happenings to the parents. A heavy silence descended over the room, after the first shock had abated. Making sure that the elf wasn’t injured, in spite of a few bruises and scratches, Aragorn tried again to sort out his confused thoughts.

With one ear directed towards his son’s room he still couldn´t understand the reason behind Eldarion´s odd behaviour. There was still some puzzle piece missing. A brief look at his wife and friend told him, that the elves struggled with the same problem. What was troubling the boy so, that he could not speak with anyone about it? The King shuddered again as he recalled the events that had nearly cost his son´s life. Lost in thought he nearly jumped, as Faramir appeared at the slightly open door. The steward inclined his head toward the three occupants.

“My Lord, my Lady, Legolas. The three youngsters who have attacked Eldarion yesterday are now in my study. Will you attend the interrogation?” Even before Faramir had ended Aragorn had sprung to his feet. “We are coming,” he announced extending his hand toward his wife, knowing that nothing would stop her now. He invited the wood elf with a brief nod. Now he would at last gain some answers. He still thought about a children´s quarrel but as he entered the Steward´s study he clearly saw that the three youngsters were already beyond the state of children. No match for Eldarion.

He did not really know what he had expected, but surely not the nearly arrogant, yet bored expressions on the three faces. Leaning against his huge desk and facing the young adults in front of him with an expressionless mask he waited until Arwen and Legolas had seated themselves left and right of him. Angered already by the boys aloft expressions he took a deep breath. “You are brought here to answer to me, concerning the attack at my son yesterday.” Looking at the youngsters sternly the King had braced himself for so many answers, but what then tumbled in the most spiteful way from the leader´s mouth left him momentarily speechless.

“It was hardly an attack, the brat needed a lesson,” answered the youngster in the middle without a flinch. Regaining his composure quickly Aragorn stepped forward until his face was inches from the youngster’s. With his hands atop the youngster’s hands on the armrest he pinned him effectively to the chair. “Then enlighten me, young one, how would you call four cracked ribs, a split brow and bruises too many to count?” he said in a deadly calm voice.

Not intimidated in the slightest the youngster looked back at the King hatefully. “As I said before this half-breed needed a lesson taught. He is always favored by everyone. All others can struggle around him but the princeling is always the best. We are not very fond of this bastard.” Sensing the danger Legolas quickly stepped forward and restrained his friend´s hand, as the King´s patience was stretched beyond any limits.

Albeit he himself was ready to punch the smug smile from the youngsters face, this would serve them nothing. Glaring momentarily at the wood elf, the King quickly enough regained his composure and stepped back. Having heard enough already he ordered the six guards standing at attention. “These three are arrested immediately until I have decided over their punishment.” As the six guards stepped forward and grabbed the arms of the youngsters the speaker from before struggled widely, glaring at the King and his wife.

“You upstart from the north have no right to be King and order us around and the same goes for the half breed brat you call your son. “As he saw the shocked expression on his wife’s face something inside him was snapping. With a quick reach the King grabbed the youth’s neck and squeezed lightly. “I would advise you to shut up and surrender; otherwise you will join my son in the house of healing with more that a few broken ribs.” Finally ceasing his struggles the youngster gave up and Aragorn released him. Quickly the guards led them from the room.

Still trembling with rage the King turned and paled, as he looked at his wife crying silently. He quickly strode over and enveloped her in a loving hug, angry that he could not undo the words uttered in such hate. “I’m sorry, my love that you have to hear this.” Looking with watery eyes at her husband the Queen shuddered.

“Estel, we have done Eldarion wrong. When these boys have tormented him like that, than he has all reason to be afraid and withdrawn,” she sobbed now, guilt evident in her voice. The King could only nod. “You are right. I´m sorry, I have never guessed this. As soon as he awakes I will talk to him and try to set things right.” Holding each other tightly they tried to shut out the hateful words they had just heard. How must the boy have felt?

Legolas had quietly and discreetly left the room, as Faramir before him, still not able to comprehend what he had just witnessed. He had known that it was always difficult to be a child of two worlds but such contempt and hatred he had not expected. It was so sad. These single-minded and blinded beings seemed never to die off, yet being the son of the King was never easy.

 

……………………………………………………

As Eldarion woke he groaned inwardly as he tried to remember why his right foot throbbed badly and why his whole body ached. As the memory returned he could not suppress another groan. Now his parents would be truly upset and he was in serious trouble. Therefore he was surprised to feel a hand caress his cheek and a gentle voice was bidding him to open his eyes.

He reluctantly obeyed and was another time surprised to look into his father´s face, only love and concern in his eyes, no anger. “Eldarion, how do you feel?” the King asked, looking straight into the grey eyes so much his own. Not able to judge the mood of his father at the moment the boy struggled for the right answer. “I’m fine,” he said carefully, trying to not let any emotion slip into his voice.

Seeing the shoulders of his father sag and hearing a weary sigh, he felt instantly guilty, but before he could say something more the King looked up. “Eldarion, I’m sorry. Now I know how the other boys have treated you and why you have reacted the way you did. I´m really sorry about the way I reacted and I beg your forgiveness for not listening to you properly. But why in all of Arda did you not confide in me, or at least in your Nanneth? We would have helped you to get solve this problem and…..”

After Eldarion had swallowed his shock that his father had found out he hung his head and averted his eyes. The King stopped and frowned and had the distinct feeling that he still had not gone to the core.

“What is it, Eldarion,” he asked gently lifting the boys chin with his finger. As the watery eyes looked back at him the King´s heart nearly broke. “Ada,” the boy began with a trembling voice. “Every time you or Nanneth interfered in the past everything became worse. They had then even more reason to hate me.” Now understanding the whole mess the King enveloped his child in a gentle embrace no longer able to contain his tears.

“I’m so sorry for not understanding, but I promise you that these boys will never pester you again,” he said and vowed inwardly that these individuals would never again have the chance to lay eyes on his son. As the boy’s sobs had subsided the King was shocked by the next nearly whispered words. “But Ada, are they right to call me a bastard? Am I not so worthy because I’m the child of two races? “Nearly choking the King was only glad that Arwen was not present to hear this heartbroken anguish. He disentangled himself from his son´s arms and looked the boy in the eye.

“Eldarion listen to me. They are not right of course. You are a child of two races, yes, that’s right, but you are also a child of love. You are no bastard. You have inherited so many wonderful character traits from both your Nanneth and me. How can this be bad? These people are only jealous and frustrated. You must not listen to them, all right?” Earning a reluctant not and the touch of a smile they embraced again. Both had not recognized the Queen standing at the doorframe. With a much lighter heart she left, sensing that this was a moment for father and son. She would make her peace with her child later.

………………………………………………………….

A few days later the prince wobbled on his crutches down the steps into the garden. Legolas and Faramir, sitting on a bench, were on their feet instantly should the boy fall. Gratefully he made it down and came toward the bench. Looking hesitantly he took a deep breath.

“Legolas, Faramir, I’m here to…apologize to you. I’m sorry for snapping at you at the House of Healing,” he said looking at the Steward, “and for being rude to you down there in the ravine,” he added looking at the elf. Ashamed he looked down. “Are we still friends?” he whispered. Swallowing the two adults knelt in front of the miserable looking boy and embraced him simultaneously.

“Of course, we are, you are welcome, young one,” Legolas choked out. “Need you ask?” Faramir added with the same choked voice holding the young prince close.

The End





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