Disclaimer: Ah, yes, don't own anything in here but all of Legolas's brothers and sisters...
Well, considering me... I'm not the best writer in the world... so helpful criticism is always appreciated.
A note on flames: Well, technically I don't think it's right or very nice to flame someone on a story they've written. They probably went to a lot of work to get this posted, and they probably didn't do it to get flamed by people. So if you don't like it then don't read it.
A Regret Deeper than the Ocean
Chapter One: A Miss-fired Arrow...
Aragorn pressed hard on Legolas's wound, trying to stop the bleeding, while Legolas tried hard not to scream. It hurt so badly.
The palace archer range had been a very bad idea. The two had left so early in the morning that nobody was out there.
Legolas was having his best friend Aragorn stay a bit since it had been so long since their last meeting. So, obviously, he pair wanted to show each other how their bow skills had been improving so they awoke early to go to the field.
All had gone well until Aragorn had fired an arrow that had missed the target, ricocheted off a tree, and, of course, succeeded in nicking Legolas in the side.
It scared Aragorn half to death that the wound bled so much. It was a severe mark but not a fatal one. Legolas could be healed... he could. But how? Thuranduil would be furious when he found out!
You couldn't trust to tell Amarim and Amarquil as far as you could throw them (and that wasn't very far at all). Tel-Miana-Lequl was little Miss Tell-the-World and so was Maeglyn! No one could be trusted, well, except the healer. He was so quiet about things. Aragorn should go to him. Why hadn't he thought of that before!
But how? But when? They were sitting in the back of Legolas's closet hiding, just incase he made any noise.
It was morning, still dark, just before 5:00 as the grandfather clock in the hall said. His pendulum was swinging wisely, keeping the time.
Legolas had quieted, probably asleep. But for what Aragorn needed to do, Legolas had to be awake.
"Legolas," whispered Aragorn, gently shaking him.
His friend moaned and stirred, "What?"
"I am going to go get the healer, okay?" Aragorn answered.
"Why?" Legolas asked groggily.
"Because you're hurt, remember?" Aragorn said.
"Oh, right. Sorry. Do you know where his sleeping quarters are?" Legolas asked, waking up a bit.
"Yes,"
"Good. Find him and bring him here." said Legolas.
"I shall. Now, keep pressure on the wound, don't fall asleep, and make absolutely no noise. You hear?" Aragorn ordered.
"Affirmative, Sir." said Legolas humorously. He wasn't out of it, just being funny.
"Good soldier." said Aragorn playing along. "Keep your feet."
Aragorn exited the closet and opened the door. Elves were very stealthy creatures, so the door to the corridor had been oiled so well it made no noise what-so-ever when he left.
He quietly went down the hall, going as fast as he could go without being loud.
Of course, his form of being quiet was not to everyone's liking. A door that Aragorn had just passed suddenly opened, almost making him pee himself.
"Aragorn, what are you doing up?" asked a tired Tel-Miana-Lequl.
"Nothing child, go back to sleep." whispered Aragorn, turning around.
"Tell me, or I will tell Elrond what I found in you pack."
"What did you find? Now you tell me!" asked Aragorn, alarmed and angry at the same time.
"Pipeweed. You know you are too young to be smoking." she answered venomously.
"Am not!" protested Aragorn. "I am 15!"
"You are 14, liar. Besides, Ada says 18 is the coming of age." she said back.
"Alright, alright. I am going to go talk to the healer." answered Aragorn, regretting every word that came from his mouth.
"Why?" she asked, as if it were her business in the first place.
He stared at her, scowling angrily.
Tel-Miana-Lequl, (Tel for short) finally took the hint and retreated back to her bedroom.
Argh! Eleven-year-olds were such a pain! Especially when they had dirt on you, or something to use against you!
Aragorn turned the corner and found the healer's sleeping quarters. He lightly knocked on the door.
At first no answer was heard then there was a hurried-sounding voice saying, "Come in!"
Aragorn turned the handle and did as he was told.
"Ah, young master Aragorn! How may I be of service?" the healer asked.
He had just awoken, getting ready for his usual day of blood and broken bones. He was tearing through his dresser, obviously searching for a shirt, since he hadn't one on.
"Um, sir, Legolas is hurt..." Aragorn said softly.
"Hurt? How did this come about?"
"Well, we went out to the archery range a little bit ago and I miss-fired an arrow..." explained Aragorn.
"Say no more. Let us go." said the healer, cutting Aragorn off. He slipped on his shirt and met Aragorn at the door.