Title: Cocoon
Author: surreysmum
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn
Rating: PG-13
Legolas emerged from deep reverie, and convulsed in pain. His eyes opened with difficulty, only partially; some milky-coloured shield was pressed right up against them, letting the light through but barring his sight. His nerves were pulsing with the desire to move, to accommodate the pain, but he was bound; bound from head to foot, completely immobile. It was terrifying. He had to pull upon every ounce of courage he had not to sink back into reverie again.
He tried to breathe deeply, to calm himself, but the constriction around his chest was too tight. So he concentrated on small, panting breaths. He wondered how much air he had; he knew that even an Elf could not survive this forever. Not that he was likely to survive very long in any case. The spider would come back.
His head was clearing, and it was not a welcome thing. Another cramp spiked through his thighs and back and despite himself he whimpered. What point was there in being brave now? He was doomed to an ugly, humiliating end. He pictured himself an hour ago, riding free and happy through his father's woods, his legacy. He saw himself - his careless, stupid self - stop to eat in this seemingly safe glade, so near to the outside world, so lacking in any sign of foes. He saw himself strip away his clothes and give way to the impulse to bathe in the sparkling stream. How foolish. He had not even needed to bathe; it was just the love of the water that had drawn him in. He saw himself carelessly pulling himself up the bank, singing so loudly, so joyously, he had not heard the tiny warning sounds of the spider's approach. There had been one sharp, stinging pain in the back of his neck as the giant spider accurately delivered its paralyzing poison. And Legolas had fallen hard to the ground, he the Warrior Prince of the Greenwood completely unable to defend himself against his mindless and voracious enemy. As his mind had gone black, he had felt the spider begin to spin its suffocating cocoon around him.
The milky light dimmed before his eyes, and at first Legolas thought he was losing consciousness again. But no, it was a shadow, shifting, and there were sounds penetrating through the web to his muffled ears. The spider. Legolas tried to shut from his mind a picture of the massive, hooked jaws suspended between the line of four impassive eyes. He wondered if it would start at the head or the feet, or if it made any difference. He hoped the spider would be quick.
He felt the cocoon moving, being lifted at the head. Something sharp broke through the shell at his neck, and something alive, warm - spiders were warm? - reached in and yanked away most of the solidified web from his face, painfully tugging the surface of his skin. As he awaited his death, Legolas took in one last, grateful deep breath of air.
But the jaws did not descend. Instead, a hand - an Elvish hand! - touched his face gently, and, still muffled, a voice said, "Elbereth! It's the young prince himself! Quick, Estel, is he alive?"
Another hand, a little rougher, less sure, pushed down to touch Legolas' neck and found the pulse there. "Barely," said the other voice, a younger voice. "Oh, 'Ro, what are we going to do?"
"Take him to his father's halls!" said the other, and the cocoon was suddenly swung up and high by strong arms. Bolts of agony sheared through Legolas' body and he let out a helpless groan.
"No, 'Ro, put him down!" said the younger voice, and Legolas' bodily prison came back to earth, much more gently. "He is too weak to move. He must be in terrible pain."
"You are the healer, my brother. I will do as you suggest," said Ro. Legolas' mind was working, even through the pain. They were speaking in Sindarin, but the accent was a little strange; it was Rivendell. This, then, must be Elrohir, the famed Elf-Knight - but the other, whom he had named brother, did not seem to be Elladan, his equally famed twin. Legolas wearily let the mystery rest, and concentrated on his small breaths.
Gentle hands were prying away at the rest of the sticky, solid web around the back of his head. A young face, a human face, swam into view. The eyes were kind and worried. "I am sorry, Prince Legolas, but it must be thus," said the young man, and with quick, deft strokes of his knife he severed most of Legolas' hair at the scalp, allowing him easily to lift away the rest of the sticky crown of web, taking the beauteous blond tresses with it. A little careful sawing at the back of his neck, and Legolas' head was wholly free of its prison. Another terrible cramp in his convulsing, constrained abdomen reminded him sharply that the rest of him was not.
"Hannon-le," he whispered with effort to the human, who was still swimming in and out of focus.
"Rest," said the young man gently. "We will take care of you." Though he spoke low, Legolas could hear him clearly now. It was a soothing voice, a true healer's voice.
"I will ride to Thranduil immediately, Estel," said Elrohir, from a little distance off. "They must have some potions to work against the venom. They know these spiders."
"Perhaps Legolas is carrying some," said Estel. A strange name for a human. The warm, kind hand touched Legolas' face again. The human enunciated clearly, "Do you have a potion against the spiders, Legolas?" Legolas shook his head slightly, helplessly. He had used the last of it to help a villager the day before.
"Then I am on my way," said the Elf-Knight decisively.
"Ro…" The kind face disappeared.
"You will do fine, little brother," he heard the other say softly.
"But I know so little… I wish father were here. What if he…? What if I cannot…?"
"You will do your best, and your best is very good, Estel. Father always says you are a born healer, and you know by instinct what others must be taught. I will be back with aid within a day." Legolas heard the slight clink of mail, and though he could see nothing but the tops of the trees and the darkening sky, he knew that the brothers had parted with an embrace. Then there was the sound of horse's hooves at a gallop, and he was alone with the kind young man.
Legolas stared up for a moment into the grey eyes of his protector. Then his head was carefully lifted and a cloak put under to cushion it from the ground.
"My name is Estel, and I am foster-son to Lord Elrond of Rivendell. I am his apprentice in healing," the young man told him. He was barely bearded, and though his hands showed signs of work, they were not those of a mature man. Legolas, though he had little experience of Men, guessed him to be twenty years old, if that.
"Legolas," he forced out, but could go no further as a cramp seized him in both thighs and would not let go.
Estel waited it out patiently, one hand nesting amongst the shorn locks. Then he said, "I am going to roll you on your side and help you drink a little water. If you cannot manage it, do not worry: we can try again later." As he spoke, he was rolling Legolas' helpless body to its side, and something - a horse blanket, perhaps - appeared at the Elf's back to hold him.
Estel put a cup to Legolas' lips and though it was awkward, Legolas managed a sip or two. For a moment he thought his stomach would reject the fluid, and Estel's wisdom in rolling him to his side became apparent to him. But in the end he swallowed hard and the water stayed.
"Good," said Estel. "Now I am going to roll you on to your front to see if I can somehow crack this shell open at your back, where it will pose least danger."
Legolas suddenly realized that the translucent binding in which he had been caught naked by the spider must be leaving little to Estel's imagination. As if reading his thoughts, Estel laid a soothing hand against his cheek for a moment. "I am your healer," he said gently. But then, being a young man not yet fully in control of his tongue, he added, "though that does not mean I am unaware of your beauty." Legolas would have squirmed if he could. "Elves are all so beautiful!" said the young man plaintively as he accomplished the delicate task of rolling Legolas gently to his front.
Legolas spared a moment of pity for the young Man's isolation, growing up amongst others so different, before yet another wave of pain clutched his muscles. Dimly he was aware of Estel's soothing hand, and then hard, careful pressure all down a line just to the left of his spine. Estel scored his line with his knife twice more, then insinuated both strong hands under the web at the back of Legolas' neck and pulled sharply.
Legolas heard a muffled crack, and felt a line of welcome cool air down his back. But Estel said, disappointedly, "I cannot pull it off - it is too firmly stuck to your skin. I will rip you to shreds."
Though still very much in pain, Legolas was able to think more clearly now. "Fire," he suggested.
"Fire! Of course!" Estel agreed, understanding immediately. "If you are near the warmth, the web will become sticky again." He created some more long cracks on arms and legs to ease the pressure, then hastily built a fire with wood he found nearby.
As Estel arranged the logs and kindling, and struck sparks to light them, he noticed Legolas' lips move soundlessly.
"I am sorry, what did you say?" he asked, concerned.
Legolas actually managed a small smile. "I was thanking the trees," he said. "It is a custom of my family's adopted people, the Silvan Elves."
Estel's eyes lit up. "Is it true," he asked, "that the ancient language of the Silvan is not truly lost but lives on in the remote reaches of Mirkwood?" As he spoke he pushed Legolas gently closer to the fire and rearranged the makeshift pillow.
"It is true," replied Legolas, but any more details he might have vouchsafed were lost in violent stabs of pain as the spider's poison worked on within him.
"Is it worse?" Estel's fingers searched his neck to find the beating of his pulse.
"I think so, yes. I cannot feel my feet now," Legolas told him. At the look on Estel's face, he added reassuringly, "The venom cannot kill me, you know."
"No, but it can damage you, and it is causing you great pain," replied his young physician. "If you are comfortable, I will go into the woods for a few moments to seek out some herbs that might give you ease."
True to his word, Estel was away only a few minutes, but his hunt was apparently successful, for he came back laden with an armful of plants. He settled down with a fair sized bowl and a pestle, and began to grind a bundle of leaves into a small amount of water.
"What are you doing?" asked Legolas.
"I am making a soothing paste for your skin," replied Estel, his teeth gritting and face grimacing from the effort of his work. Legolas found it curiously charming.
The web yielded its grip in sticky pieces over the course of several hours. When Legolas finally yanked the last fragment from his flat abdomen, he gasped, "I must bathe! Right now!" But he wobbled precariously when he tried to stand, and then bent double as yet another of the cruel, endless cramps attacked him.
"You are exhausted and in pain," cautioned Estel. "I am not sure that bathing is wise…"
"But I must!" Legolas interrupted.
"Very well. I will come in with you," Estel conceded.
"There is soap in my pack," Legolas told him, recovering a little.
"And mine also, though you judge otherwise by my appearance!" And the laugh they shared, though shaky on Legolas' part, spoke well of the swift and easy familiarity that had grown between them as Estel tended his new friend.
Estel stripped a little self-consciously, his back to the Elf. He had little choice but to turn around, though, when he helped Legolas to his feet and into the nearby stream. "Ah, that is lovely!" sighed the Elf as Estel briskly lathered him up and rinsed him off. "The water restores me greatly, Estel." But even as he said it, he crumpled over once more in pain, and Estel had to half-carry him up the bank. The young man wrapped the suddenly shivering Elf in some blankets, and helped him sit near the fire. Then he reached for the soothing ointment he had prepared earlier and started to apply it to those parts of Legolas he could easily reach.
"That helps, a little," said Legolas, but his voice was much strained, and within a few moments the venom had him writhing once more.
"It is not your skin that I need to be treating now," Estel said ruefully. "I cannot abide to see you in this pain. Wait there while I see if I can find something to help."
Estel took a little longer in the forest than before, but when he returned he bore a look of satisfaction and he cradled a small plant carefully in his hands.
"Athelas?" asked Legolas curiously. "I know of it, but I have heard it is but a weak medicine, mostly used for fevers."
"So my foster-father Elrond also told me," Estel replied as he heated some water and bruised the leaves between his fingers. "But I have had surprising success with it, for several ailments, although not in any case as grave as what you suffer."
"It has a most pleasing scent, at least," Legolas observed. Estel plunged the leaves into the hot water and the scent intensified.
"The taste it imparts to water is pleasing also, I am glad to say," he replied. "Would you drink a little?"
"I do not see how it could do any harm," replied Legolas, though he doubted it would do much good either. Just as he was about to take an obedient sip from the side of the bowl he gave a sharp cry and clutched at his stomach.
Estel quickly supported him, lending his assistance with one hand under the blanket to rub away the cramp. By the time it subsided, Legolas was panting, his head lying tiredly back on Estel's shoulder.
Estel picked up the athelas water. "Try again," he urged gently, and Legolas took a cautious sip.
"Oh," he breathed.
"Are you all right, Legolas?"
"Very much so, my healer," Legolas turned his head to look up into Estel's worried face. "You were right. It is indeed a powerful medicine. I can feel it chasing the venom from me."
"Mayhap you are just recovering from the cramp," Estel suggested.
"Nay, 'tis much more than that," Legolas replied, and yawned suddenly. "I am very comfortable; would you mind if I sleep a little?" And before his friend could answer, he turned a little sideways, snuggled down in Estel's lap and fell into deep reverie.
Estel smiled down in puzzlement at his lapful of beautiful, slumbering Elf. He would very much have liked to sit thus for hours, but the cool evening breeze was reminding him forcibly that he too was still naked. So he gently pushed the sleeping Legolas back on to his fireside pillow. Then the young man found another blanket and settled down to sleep right next to his patient.
-/-/-/-/-
Estel woke suddenly. A powerful arm was across him, holding him still. "Do not move, Estel!" urged Legolas' voice. Estel turned his head and found himself looking into the foaming jaws of a poisonous snake. Legolas had firm hold of the wriggling beast and as Estel watched in horrified fascination, the Elf squeezed the life out of it and flung it away with a disgusted exclamation.
"It nearly bit you!" The agitation was clear on Legolas' face in the bright moonlight.
Before he could think about it, Estel impulsively put a hand to the side of Legolas' head and kissed him full on the lips. Then he withdrew suddenly and looked down, hiding his embarrassment.
The emotion in Legolas' eyes changed subtly. "Estel," he said in a gentle tone, and tried to get the young man to look at him. "Estel, is that what you want?" The man flushed even more deeply. "For I must tell you, Estel, that you are very attractive to me."
Estel rolled over and hid his face in his hands, but Legolas would not let him retreat, putting an arm lightly round him from behind.
"This is new to you, is it not, my friend?" Estel nodded, chagrined. "It would do me great honour, Estel, if you permitted me to be your tutor in this matter."
Estel muttered something half-audible about fearing to disgust his teacher.
Legolas laughed, and it was a glorious, seductive sound. "That is simply not possible!" He tugged Estel back to face him, and cajolingly lifted the barely-bearded chin. "Will you let me be your teacher, Estel-nín?"
Estel lifted grey eyes to meet the blue, and in his gaze the fear had been chased by hunger, and adoration outshone them all. "Yes," he said on a gasp. He closed his eyes trustingly, and parted his lips.
-/-/-/-/-/
Elrohir of Rivendell knew well how to travel without sound in the woodlands. But that was not his intention as he entered the glade where two forms lay unmoving, indistinctly merged in a bundle of blankets. As he had hoped, Legolas was awakened, and disentangled himself carefully, joining Elrohir a short distance from the sleeping Estel.
"I am glad to see you looking so much better than I expected," said Elrohir, handing Legolas a small vial. "Here is the antidote to the spider poison."
"I thank you sincerely for your trouble," replied Legolas, "but there is no need for it. Estel healed me."
"Indeed?"
"With athelas," Legolas informed him. Elrohir's brow creased in concern. "Is it he, Elrohir? Is he the one who is foretold?" Legolas put the question hesitantly, as if doubting his right to know the answer.
"He does not know it himself yet," replied Elrohir. "Father will explain his birthright to him on his next birthday, and from there all will unfold as it must. But for the time being, secrecy is of the utmost importance."
"As far as the world knows, I was healed by this vial you bring me," pledged Legolas. "You need have no fear that I would ever endanger him with a loose tongue."
Elrohir smiled slyly, and looked up and down Legolas' naked form without heat. Legolas bore the scrutiny without embarrassment.
"Have you seduced my brother, Legolas of Mirkwood?" asked Elrohir, his smile broadening.
"Say rather he seduced me - with his innocence, his skilful hands, his gentle heart and his noble nature," replied Legolas.
Elrohir raised an eyebrow and then clapped Legolas heartily on the shoulder. "He has you well trapped within his web, I see," he said, and he beamed brotherly approval. "My companion is setting up camp not far from here. We will leave you undisturbed till dawn."
Legolas thanked him, and watched until he had disappeared back into the woods. Then he returned to where Estel still slept by the embers of their fire and, sighing contentedly, wrapped himself back into their cocoon.
finis