Crimson

Chapter One

So I did promise everyone another story! This is the classic, simple angst type of story that I started writing to try and get out of a massive writing slump, because this sort of story is easy enough for me to write, compared to some of the more complicated things I've done in the past (In a Field of Blood and Stone was infuriating at some points, because of how complex it got trying to fit everything to the right timeline). Anyway, hopefully you'll enjoy this mess of various tropes and classic Legolas angst. Light trigger warnings for injuries and typical Middle-Earth violence.

Uni is busy at the moment- I'm about to go into exams, and have a lot of other things going on at the same time- but I am trying to find more time to write. It's sort of working, but obviously at the moment I'm revising a lot and only have the evenings to relax (and Netflix is so tempting...)

Hope everyone is having a good year so far. This story will probably be about four chapters, I think? We'll see how it goes, but this is only the beginning. As always, reviews are very welcome.

Disclaimer: only Belhadron and Rhavaniel belong to me.

0-o-0-o-0

It always seemed to be the days when everything was going right, when everything would suddenly go wrong. There was no quiet decline into disorder, no warnings of what was to come before it hit. It merely hit.

Belhadron's face was torn in a fierce snarl, his sword a blur in his hand as he cut through the orcs erupting from the shadows of the forest around him. Legolas was just behind him, his arrows slicing through the air past Belhadron. Where they landed, the shadows stilled, if only for a second before another orc stepped on the one that had fallen and launched themselves at them.

The elves were fighting furiously, holding back the line until reinforcements could arrive. Belhadron could feel his muscles aching, but he knew it as he knew there would be snow in the northern woods in a few months; it was distant, and had no effect on him. The fear surging through him, of what would happen if the orcs broke through their lines; it was better fuel than any fire.

The steady sing of arrows faltered from behind him and Belhadron paused, half turning back to where he knew Legolas to be. There was a flash of blond hair in the corner of his eye, and then a familiar voice in his ear.

"I'm out of arrows," Legolas shouted over the screams and clashes of steel. "We can't hold them for much longer."

"We just need to hold them long enough for the reinforcements to arrive," Belhadron shouted back, twisting his sword and darting forwards to head off another orc. He pulled his sword from the orc's body, shoving it away with a kick and earning himself a brief reprieve. "They can't be long now."

Legolas had unsheathed his knife, and parried a blow from an approaching orc, slashing the knife across the weak leather protecting his neck. He held up his other hand, signalling to the elves around them. The signal was picked up and passed on down the line, and the elves fell into formation around them. As if in response, the orcs at that moment surged forwards, battering the line again and again, and the sounds of battle filled the forest, threatening to overflow.

A murmur passed up through the ranks of elves, travelling on a sudden breeze until a breathless messenger sprinted up and shouted out for a captain. Legolas dropped back, another elf filling the line for the few seconds that the messenger relayed what he knew.

"Reinforcements are five minutes," Legolas called out to Belhadron as he moved back to the front of the line

"We can hold them for that long!" Belhadron shouted. He slashed out with his sword, fiercely duelling two orcs as they tried to draw him away from the line and into their midst. Belhadron held his ground, not moving far from where Legolas was fighting his own skirmishes, the orcs dropping around him to the sing of his knife.

Belhadron heard the shout, from an elf down the line, before he saw the shadows coalesce into the shape of yet another enemy to be dealt with. "Crossbows!" the cry rang out, and it was passed down the line, from elf to elf. Belhadron's hand went back to his quiver, but it was empty, had long been empty, and he could do nothing but scan the approaching orcs in what time he had between bouts, searching for the familiar shape of the weapon.

Legolas appeared at his side briefly. "Dead ahead," he said, dispatching another orc with his knife. "Archers! Crossbows dead ahead!"

Almost instantly an arrow flew past Belhadron from behind, one of the few archers who still had any arrows left to use. Others followed it, singing through the air. Crossbow bolts flew back in reply, but they were poorly aimed, and were mostly harmless.

Belhadron pushed the line forwards with Legolas a few paces, holding back the onslaught. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, the fierce ache in his muscles, but he kept pushing. They only needed a few more minutes. Only a few minutes, and it would be enough.

Three things happened at once. The orcs surged forwards, crests of dark waves erupting from the shadows and crashing towards them. At the same time, there came the sound of running feet from behind them, the reinforcements they had been waiting on launching themselves into the fray. And above the din of battle, the shouts of the elves and snarls of the orcs, on the edge of his hearing, Belhadron heard a quiet gasp, quickly cut off, and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

There was an orc nearby, already falling to the ground as blood dumped from deep wounds to his neck and chest. The blade, slipping from numb fingers, was tinged crimson.

Belhadron turned, and his heart stopped.

For a brief moment he thought that it was merely a scratch, that he had just been knocked off balance and would get back up in a moment, would offer him a quick smile and reassurance before throwing himself back into the battle, but then he slumped forwards, and his knife slipped from his hand, and all Belhadron thought was no.

The battle raged on around them, the orcs kept coming, and Belhadron could do nothing more at the moment than step in front of Legolas and parry a blow from an incoming orc. He could hear his heart beating frantically, as if it could keep Legolas' going by sheer force of will.

Another elf stepped up to his side and Belhadron took the opportunity to fall back, to fall to his knees beside Legolas and press his hands over the tear in his leathers, to try and keep the blood from spilling out, hot and wet, between his fingers. The static calm of a soldier overtook him, the centuries of training overriding the fear clawing at his throat, and Belhadron looked up and around them. The battle continued regardless of the sprawled figure on the ground, but it was turning in their favour, the newly arrived reinforcements pushing the orcs back. Belhadron, with the feeling of blood beneath his hands, made his decision.

He hauled Legolas up, slinging his arm over his own shoulders and half carried, half dragged him away from the frontline. Elves rushed past him, heading for the battle and he was glad to see that many of them were from their elite companies. That meant that one of the other captains was here, and the frontline would be in good hands with both him and Legolas gone.

The option to stay, to send Legolas back with another, had not even crossed his mind.

The newly arrived captain had set up a command position behind the frontline, something Legolas and Belhadron had been unable to do when the orcs had first set upon them. Belhadron staggered towards it, Legolas a heavy weight at his side. The captain turned, hearing his footsteps, and then her mouth fell open. In the next moment she hurried forwards, taking Legolas' other side and helping to carry him the last few steps to the command position.

"What happened?" she asked as they set Legolas down, Belhadron already pulling at his leathers to get to the wound beneath.

"I don't know," he replied. "I didn't see it." He finally pulled off the leathers and pushed the tunic up. Blood spilled out across the ground, and Belhadron quickly clamped his hands down over the wound.

The captain straightened up, and looked around. "Get me a medic!" she called out. "And get me three horses!"

Legolas shifted underneath Belhadron's hands, and Belhadron leant over. "Legolas," he said clearly, ignoring the slight tremble that tried to find its way into his voice. "Legolas, can you hear me?"

Legolas' eyes flickered open, but only just. Belhadron smiled slightly, even as his fingers slipped on Legolas' side, trying to hold on against the blood welling up beneath his hands. "Stay awake," he said. "Stay awake for me. Can you do that?"

Legolas nodded slightly, even as his face scrunched up in pain. "Sorry," he whispered, the words barely falling from his lips.

Belhadron shook his head. "Don't apologise for anything," he said fiercely. "And don't try to talk. Just stay awake. Stay with me."

An elf ran over, a bag slung over his shoulder, and fell to his knees beside them. "Let me see," he said. "Captain, move your hands and let me see."

Belhadron shook his head. "I can't," he said. "He's bleeding badly."

The medic pulled a wound dressing out of his bag and unfolded it. "On three," he said. Belhadron nodded, and then pulled his hands away on three as the medic pressed down on the wound with the dressing. Legolas hissed in pain, twisting on the ground, and Belhadron put a hand on his shoulder to hold him still.

"Stay with me," he said again. "Come on, Legolas, keep your eyes open." Legolas nodded, breathing harshly through gritted teeth.

"Belhadron."

Belhadron nearly snarled as the captain laid a hand on his shoulder. "What?"

"You won't do any help here," she said. "Not right now. Come and explain the situation to me, and then I can take command easily enough, and you can ride back with him."

Belhadron hesitated for a moment, watching the medic as he worked. "Fine," he said eventually. "Call me if anything happens, or as soon as he is ready to be moved. I want to get back to the stronghold as quickly as possible."

The medic nodded, and waved him away without looking up. Belhadron squeezed Legolas' shoulder. "I'll only be a few yards away," he said to Legolas, not even quite sure if Legolas was conscious enough to understand him. "We'll be heading home soon. Just hang on until then."

He got to his feet and moved away, if reluctantly. The battle was still progressing behind them, the frontline wavering slightly, and then holding fast as the elves fought back against the waves of orcs. It was hard for him to tear his gaze away from Legolas' still figure, the medic working over him with a few more elves helping where they could, but his mindset was still that of a soldier, and his training was too ingrained to completely disregard protocol.

He filled in the captain on what had happened: the ambush, their desperate scramble to prevent retreat, and the fight they'd been having since to hold the line. The captain put together a quick plan, with what help Belhadron could offer, and he stayed with her until finally, after what seemed like far too long, the medic called him back.

Belhadron's breath stuttered in his throat as he saw Legolas' eyes firmly shut. The medic caught the fear that played across his face before he managed to school his expression. "He lost consciousness a few minutes ago," he said. "But he's still breathing."

Belhadron knelt down next to them. "How bad is it?" he asked.

"Bad enough," the medic replied. "He needs to get back to the stronghold or he won't live, with that wound. I've staunched the bleeding as best as I can with my supplies here, but he needs much more than I can give him. It should hold for the ride back to the stronghold, but if it doesn't, I'll give one of the elves escorting you some medical supplies."

Belhadron nodded. "Brief one of them on the situation and what the healers need to know as well," he said. "If I am unable to speak to the healers immediately upon getting back." He'd already pulled two of the elves that had been with him and Legolas off the frontline to accompany them back, and they were readying the horses and any supplies they needed as he spoke.

"Let's not waste anymore time," the medic said. "Get a horse and we'll get him up."

"How far gone is he?" Belhadron asked, hand coming to rest on Legolas' shoulder. "Will this hurt?"

"Probably," the medic said with a shrug. "But I don't know. Far better for it to hurt, and for him to get home quickly and get help, than to be too cautious and end up being too late."

"Of course," Belhadron said, swallowing down the sudden nausea at the thought. He turned and caught one of the passing elves. "Get me my horse, and the two elves escorting me."

Legolas, thankfully, remained unconscious as Belhadron mounted, and then two elves lifted him up to sit him in front of Belhadron on his mare. Belhadron wrapped his arms around Legolas, and could feel the thick bandages tight around his side. Legolas' head lolled back against Belhadron's shoulder.

He glanced back at the two elves accompanying him. They were already mounted, quivers secured on their backs and bows in their hands. If there was danger, they were to engage, and give Belhadron a clear path north to head back home. One of them had a bag slung over her shoulder, and was leant down talking to the medic.

"Are we ready?" he asked. "We don't have time to waste."

Both elves nodded. "Move out," Belhadron ordered, and then dug his heels into his mare's flanks. His mare shot forwards, heading north and for home.

0-o-0-o-0

The paths were familiar now, the green clearing in front of the bridge and the main gates just a couple hundred yards away. Belhadron dug his heels into his mare's flank again, urging her on for the last time. The two elves that had come with him rode to either side, their horses lathered with sweat and foaming at the mouths. They had ridden hard and fast, as fast as they could go.

Belhadron could feel the blood seeping through the bandages beneath his arm, and he shifted Legolas, trying to put better pressure against the wound. Finally the gates of the stronghold came into view, and he pulled his horse up to a stop in the green.

There were elves readying to head to the frontline in and around the stronghold, gathering weapons and forming companies, and they turned the place into a hive of activity for battle. As soon as they heard the hoof beats they had been on guard, but when Belhadron rode hard into the courtyard and checked his mare, he could hear muted shouts of surprise from some of them. For a moment they were frozen, seeing their Prince slumped in front of him, seeing the dark stains on Belhadron that could only be blood, and then they rushed forwards.

"Send for the healers!" someone cried out. "Get a stretcher out here, now!"

Elves surrounded Belhadron's mare, arms reaching up to steady Legolas as Belhadron let him slip from his horse's back. Legolas was barely off the horse when Belhadron flung himself off and fell to his knees beside Legolas as they laid him down on the grass.

"Legolas," he said, gently rubbing at Legolas' chest. "Legolas, can you hear me?"

The two elves that had accompanied him pushed through the growing crowds, and took up positions on either side. "Everyone get back!" one called out, hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword. "Give the Prince some space."

"Anyone who is not immediately useful needs to leave," the other added. "Get out of here and back to what you were doing."

Many elves hesitated, but sharp glares from the two elves flanking Legolas and Belhadron made them back away, and the crowd slowly dwindled.

"The healers have been sent for," one elf said, staying just outside the reach of the elves flanking Belhadron. "We're getting a stretcher now."

Belhadron nodded, but his attention was focused on Legolas. "Easy," he murmured as Legolas' eyelids flickered, his brow scrunching in pain. "Easy now. Don't move, or it'll hurt more. Just open your eyes."

Legolas' eyes flickered open, and Belhadron managed to put a smile on his face. "Keep looking at me," he said. "Keep your eyes open."

Legolas nodded, and then tensed as the movement sent tendrils of pain racing out from his side. Belhadron checked the bandages on his side, and a frown marred his face as he saw the slowly growing crimson stain soaking through the white cloth.

"Eyes on me," he said to Legolas again. "Keep your eyes open. Stay awake, Legolas, just hang on for a little longer."

Legolas nodded again, despite the wince of pain that the movement caused. "Others…" he rasped out. "What…happened?"

"Reinforcements arrived at the frontline," Belhadron said, a weak smile on his face at the thought of Legolas being worried over the elves under his command when he was bleeding out on the grass. "They're holding it steady. The orcs will be repelled by the end of tomorrow, I'll bet."

"By end of today," Legolas rasped. "I'll take…that bet." The last words were nearly indistinguishable, said through gritted teeth as Legolas choked on the pain, his body spasming. Belhadron grasped his hand and let him cling onto it, crushing his fingers as he tried to force his broken body to stay still.

"Keep your eyes open, Legolas," Belhadron said, panic starting to seep into his voice despite the best of his ability and his training. "Legolas? Look at me. Hang on for just a few more minutes. Please, just keep your eyes open for me."

Legolas nodded weakly, but a few more moments and his eyes flickered shut, the tension draining from his body as he lost consciousness again. Belhadron cursed, resisting the urge to shake him until he woke up. It would only do more harm.

There was a flurry of activity out of the corner of his eye, and then elves sprinted up with a stretcher. "The healers are coming, captain," one of them said. "They'll be here any minute now."

"Tell them to move faster!" Belhadron snapped. "You three, help me get him on the stretcher."

Belhadron gently rolled Legolas onto one side, careful of his wound, and the elves slid the stretcher underneath him. Legolas didn't even move, didn't cry out, and Belhadron supposed that at least he wasn't feeling any pain from being moved. One elf took off their cloak and draped it over him.

The healers finally appeared, running out of the gates and over the bridge to them. "Get him inside," one of them called out. "Get the stretcher to the healing wards."

Belhadron got to his feet as four elves stepped forwards and picked up the stretcher. "You two," he said to the elves who had accompanied him back from the frontline, even as he turned to run towards the gates after the stretcher. "Go with the healers. Fill them in on what the medic told you, and then I want you standing on guard at the doors. Don't leave until I come."

"Where are going, Captain?" one of them asked.

Belhadron squared his shoulders. "I'm going to get the King."

So that was a mess of tropes and cliches, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thranduil is in the next chapter, as the last line suggests, though Belhadron is a bit more of the focus of this story- I've done quite a bit of Thranduil worrying over Legolas, and Belhadron was being a lot more cooperative and easier to write. The next chapter will go up in a few days- Thursday, maybe? Exams start up on Monday, so we'll see how it goes.

As always, reviews are very welcome.