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Legolas pulls free from his grip as a horn blows in the distance. This escape doesn't get past the elf. He runs from the brown eyes and cannot help the smile that crosses his lips to see elves again. He is weary with the words of Sauron still echoing in his mind. Though as he stands surrounded by elves and a dwarf under the call of a man, his thoughts circle driven by determination, and focusing on the power he does possesses at the moment.
The battle to protect Helms Deep has been won but Aragorn's thoughts are anywhere but on the victory. He fears he is losing something that he wasn't aware belonged to him, for the elf tending to the injured has never been his. For the man watching from across plain never had seized the chances as brave and impulsive as he may be. For the elf's heart is not his to lose. He cannot help to feel torn by ignorance. He feels as if he is losing Legolas to something unknown. He can see the distance in the Elvin eyes as they fix on the wounds of men. Why must he distance himself? It is not a man's doing. He would not take that much care in tending to them if it was. The bruising upon his skin… Why does bruising on him affect me like this? Why does it fill me with such anger? Would it feel the same if such marks speckled Frodo's or Gimli's wrists? I do not understand this.
"Gimli, how has Legolas been? You told me to caution him. Why?" The man spoke but
"He doesn't not react, sleep, or eat. The men don't know if it is an elf thing or not. And give it much neither do I." Something is not right! Aragorn's mind cannot help but yell out though he holds his tongue. He lets the dwarf continue."He no longer takes defense when I happen inform him of the shortcomings of Elves. I ask if he is all right, yet all I get is a weakly given 'I'm fine.' He is the strangest elf I have ever met. Come Aragorn we must head out for Isengard."
"Hello, Master Elf. How are you feeling this morning?" Gandalf approaches in silence as the elf mutters an elfish phrase of healing while applying a mixture of herbs to an impaled shoulder of a teenaged child. Legolas' breath hitches and eyes shut in shock at the sound of the sudden voice. He instructs Haleth, with a small smile, to go rest with the other healed while he and the wizard speak.
"Did I frighten you?" The wizard leans upon his staff and narrows his gray eyes as the elf turns to face him with a shake of his head.
"No Gandalf. Just… distracted." Gandalf cannot help but observe the young elf's change in appearance since his frighten sprint through the darkened streets of Rohan. His neck, though covered, is bruised, rings circle his eyes, his eyes scan everywhere one moment and nowhere the next, and his arms wrap around his cloak as if it will simply blow away if he does not. The wizard does not want to make what he does of this. All the signs are still not here, old boy.
"Distracted, yes. Is that all? It has been said that you will not tend to your own injuries." Legolas adverts his gaze in shame for a moment knowing it is true.
"I know what Aragorn says. But my problems are nothing compared to those of the men and elves." He looks back and answers sharply but then weaker than he would care to ever do again.
"The man is simply worried as he should be. You do not look well. And I have never heard of an elf with a fever." The white wizard places his palm against the heated forehead.
"It is just a headache, my lord. My mind has not been straight with all of the death and warfare. The trees also. They cry out. They are angry."
He grips Legolas' arm and hooks in the crook of the elbow as when they first entered Rohan. He did mark the words of Saruman after all and knew of the worm that whispered in King Théoden's ear.
"Perhaps a stroll will bring your mind back. Will you lead an old wizard to the stables?" Legolas tenses, despite himself and nods. After moments of silence his muscles let down their guard and speaks.
"Are we riding to Isengard, today then?" They reach the stables soon enough Legolas vaguely recalls Eomer speak of facing Saruman.
"Depends if you will eat and rest first, young prince." Gandalf goes to his stunning white horse and pats while he speaks. He cannot take in the elf's reaction but he can hid his own. Aragorn is not the only one concern for the elf and when you know as much as I do… you wish you don't.
"I will be fine." Gandalf admires the stubbornness of Elves with a small smile. He is suffering Valar knows what at the hands of Sauron and still he fights and heals and… remains this stubborn.
"We shall ride then. To Saruman." Legolas felt the blood drain from his cheeks. Riding with Gimli meant that the dwarf would tug on him to stay upon the house.
"And I will riding with Gimli then?" He swallows the ball forming in his throat making it harder to breath.
"Will that be an issue?" Gandalf turns to the elf and as Eomer, Aragorn and Gimli enter the stables. Aragorn watches the elf closely but stays silent.
"No, I… perhaps riding with an elf is not the best opinion for a dwarf to take." Aragorn's horse nudges Legolas shoulder as Aragorn approaches finally.
"Gimli should have no problem if it. I'm sure he would let us know if he does." Gandalf assures with a nod and narrowing eyes. Aragorn sense Legolas uneasiness but cannot bring himself to say anything. Unlike Eomer, who places a hand a top the Elvin shoulder. They set out for the hobbits and for Isengard.
