Old friend, I'm not alright

I hadn't ever willingly slept since I was a child. I was possible for me to do of course, but I never did. It held no benefit and I woke up swearing from nightmares every time. However, my healing wounds took up energy. After the meeting, I limped back with the help of Legolas and fell into a deep sleep.

Several hours later (though I'm not sure) I was woken by the twinge through my body as Gimli softly shook me wake. Wincing, I rose, and felt around for my weapons belt. I smelled burning. "What's that smell?" I asked Gimli, my senses not yet awakened. "That'd be the bodies burning lass." He explained. He seemed to recognize me as a female more now that he had seen me weakened. Not that I cared. Legolas walked in and handed me my crutch as I tried to get up. My foot screamed in pain when I applied to much pressure. I murmured my thanks and stood up, not without effort. Was it just me, or did the Fangorn forest seem to rustle louder? I dismissed as still waking up. It was something I wasn't used to.

Legolas handed me a shirt. "I thought you would want something to cover your shoulders. We're going to Isengard." I nodded in thanks. "What colour?" I asked curious. My gloves were on, and I prayed it wasn't some crazy colour like pink. I shuddered. As a child I had hated pink. It had hurt my eyes. "Grey." Legolas replied. He knew me well. They looked at me, as if waiting for something. I turned the shirt over in my hands. "Would you mind leaving?" Their heat rose significantly as they blushed, and hurried from the room.

Thankfully, the shirt was about the right size. I limped from the room, following Gimli and Legolas. Wildmen were at work, repairing the damage they had done. The men of mark delivered mercy, which surprised them. I had comprehended from Theoden's words to Erkenbrand, that Saruman had told them that the Eorlingas were cruel and burned their captives alive. Which proved that you should never take the word of a wizard gone bad seriously. Although I had never like Saruman much. I found he looked only at the grand and powerful, and not the smaller things that really mattered.

Aragorn met us as we walked to the dike, as he had been in council meetings again. Theoden seemed to think of him as a good advisor now despite his earlier remarks to him and the rest of us. I asked him why we were leaving to Isengard, apart from finding the hobbits. He answered "Gandalf is going and wishes for us to go with him. Theoden and his entourage are going as well. After this battle, Theoden seems to heed peoples advice more often, and think things through better. Gandalf wishes to speak to Saruman, because Isengard has been taken."

"By who?" I asked. "All our forces are here, and Gondor surely would not have attacked."

"He only gave us a riddle." Replied Aragorn. "Ere iron was found of tree was hewn/When young was mountain under moon/Ere ring was made, or wrought was wove/It walked the forests long ago." I gave my wry smile. I had an inkling of what he may be talking of.

We met up with Theoden and others at the dike. Gandalf was also there, and behind us a great host was gathered to wish us off. They sang a song of victory, and though it wasn't musically astounding, it gave me hope. I heard the women who healed my leg yell at me to be careful. I raised an eyebrow to myself. While leaving from the dike I rode on Aragorn's horse behind him. Thankfully, Aragorn had finally taken a bath so didn't smell anything like previous times. I know one couldn't control their body, but he needed to pay more attention to personal hygiene.

Gandalf was riding by us, and trotted closer to me. "I think that when we enter the forest you should turn back and help the sick. You yourself are seriously injured, and hardly healed. I know you well enough to see you are in pain." I raised an eyebrow in surprise. I had kept my normal poker face on, although my chest burned and my leg stung every time it knocked against the horses flank. Not to mention my wings, shoulder and back ached from multiple scratches and bruises. "I don't need to," I said back to him. "And you know that I cannot heal people. I can't even carry out basics."

"You are injured and in pain. You could help protect them from possible attacks while we are weakened."

I shook my head. The new Gandalf was more stubborn than the old one, even if I couldn't tell the difference. Although the rustle his beard and hair did sound shorter. "There will be no attacks, Saruman has already expended all his forces. And how do you know that I am in pain?"

"Your left eyebrow twitches every time."

"That is not fair. I can't look in a mirror and see that." Gandalf just rode off laughing. Aragorn had been tactfully ignoring us until now. "You're in pain?" He asked surprised and concerned. "No." I said, attempting to uphold my pride. "It's just an old joke between us. Are we out of eyesight from Helms Deep yet?" I wanted to get up into the air and stretch my poor wings. "We should be." We stopped for a moment and I slid off behind a hill. No-one else thought anything of it. Nature called for everyone at some time.

Out of eyesight, I took off the hood and cloak still not comfortable with taking off in front of others. I shuffled my wings, only a tiny twinge lancing through my sternum. Good, I would be able to fly without much pain. I took off into the air, feeling the breeze through my hair and feathers. Forget resting, flying was the best way to heal.

But immediately I noticed something was wrong. It wasn't that one wing moved slightly less than the other now- probably the dislocated shoulder. Every time my left wing extended fully, excruciating pain barrelled down my side and my breath would be expelled. I dropped altitude, hands on my side. Had the wound ripped? No there wasn't any blood. I took a breath as deep as I possibly could- which wasn't very deep unless I caused myself pain- and breathed out. My muscles relaxed and the pain dissipated. Just a cramp.

I began to fly again, keeping my wings fairly slack. I kept easy pace with the horses. A slow breeze began to blow just above me, a handy air current. I angled myself upwards so I could catch the draft. Wings forward, back, forward, back a bit more… Pain erupted along the wound like a patch of fire. It hurt inside, like a nail being driven through my lung. I attempted to breathe, hoping it was just another lowly cramp. Nothing happened, aside from a wheezy gasp leaving my lips. If I was incapable of breathing properly, I couldn't fly, it took a lot of breath. I managed the tiniest of breaths in, but it wasn't enough and I began to slowly lose altitude. Another nail drove through the lung, squeezing all the air out of me. Sadly coughing, there was no air to expel out.

This was a flying emergency, a kind I had never experienced before. Storms, rain, high winds and downdrafts were all fightable, but I had never thought of what would happen if the enemy was inside. I arched my wings behind me using them as a parachute and dropped. The wing parachute stopped me from causing myself injury, but I landed sprawling on my back in front of a boulder. Once my limbs were spread starfish style on the ground, the pain slowly throbbed away. What had happened? Sitting up encouraged more pain, this time in the skin. The effort of flying and sitting up had partially torn the arrow wound. A slight dampness emitted, a bit of blood seeping out. I tightened the bandage around my chest as best as I could- which was terribly by the way. However it stopped the bleeding. Unfortunately life isn't that simple. I knew that the pain in the air hadn't been caused by the reopened wound.

Legolas POV

Gimli and I were riding, exchanging banter. The fangorn had just come into view(for the rest of the people anyhow) and I had expressed the size of the oaks. This somehow launched Gimli on a monologue on the beauty of Helms Deeps caverns, of which I partially ignored. "My people would pay pure gold for just a glance!" Gimli exclaimed. "And I would give gold to be excused" I replied "and double to be let out if I strayed in." Gimli let out a protest.

"You have not seen, so I forgive you for the jest." Gimli said, but I did not focus. I saw Darke had just taken to the air- She was truly magnificent when on wing, I thought then mentally slapped myself. At just an altitude of perhaps 50 or 60 meters she doubled over clutching her side. She dropped a few meters, but thankfully recovered. She had Gimli's attention as well, who had stopped his blathering. We took a few moments to see if she was alright, then continued the one sided conversation.

Just a few minutes later though, she lost altitude again, gradually this time. She was doubled over teeth clenched and hands squeezing her wound. Small white puffs of air escaped her lips. It must have been colder up there I realised. But no air seemed to make its way in. She coughed, hardly anything escaping her this time. Then she arched her wings and began to fall.

Gimli swore something in dwarvish, and I held my breath. She seemed to fall slower than she should, but showed no sign of slowing or stopping. She hit the ground, a faint puff of dirt rising from where she fell. I spurred our horse toward her, and Gimli didn't protest.

Darke POV

When Legolas and Gimli arrived, I had just managed to stagger up and was leaning against the boulder catching my breath. I still had a hand on my side, even though the bleeding had stopped and the pain was almost gone. Quickly, they disembarked, which in Gimli's case required a thump on the ground and an 'ouch'. It would have made me raise an eyebrow, if I weren't so focused on breathing properly. "Darke," Legolas asked concerned "what happened?" I took a great gulp of air, and tried to formulate an answer. "By my axe," Gimli exclaimed "One moment you were right as rain, the next you're doubled over falling like a stone!" I took another gulp of air.

"I don't know. I stretched my wing out at a certain angle and then pain erupted all down my side." I said between breaths, gesturing at the pained area. "All the breath was taken out of me, and I couldn't breathe it back in."

"Let's go back to the company," Legolas said. "Aragorn may know what to do." I nodded my head, still having trouble formulating words.

Somehow all three of us managed to board the one horse, which was a feat in itself. Gimli was at the front, so he couldn't fall off, Legolas in the middle so he could hold the reigns, and I was on the back, being the tallest. It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. 'So a dwarf, an elf and a women get onto a horse..' My brain must have been scrambled. The problem though, of having 3 people on one horse is that it is very squishy. I had to cling tightly to Legolas's waist to avoid falling off the back. The horse jiggled and jolted sliding me forward into Legolas, or back, where I just kept my balance. I didn't feel right, clinging onto the elf in front. But it didn't feel bad either. I then proceeded to wipe my mind of all thoughts after that, and mentally sick my guts up. My brain was definitely scrambled.

We got to the kings company and Aragorn, who then began to pelt me with questions about what happened. In this time I was also given a spare horse, who luckily for me, was mild mannered. After a half hour of questions and answers, Aragorn finally came to a conclusion. "The arrow caused internal damage. Not only was your lung pierced, part of your diaphragm and some of the alveoli must have been destroyed." I felt the heat leave my face as I blanched. "Will it fix?"

"Never as it was before. Even the likes of Lord Elrond could not fix it perfectly. In time you may adapt to it, but when the actual cut heals, I doubt you will be able to do anything that requires a lot of breath again." I wanted to yell. I wanted to swear. I wanted to fly right up to Saruman and punch him directly in the face. But of course I couldn't in my current state, and probably would never be able to fly over 20 leagues again. I made up for it by riding to the edge of the group and bitterly cursing under my breath for an hour on end.

I could not believe it. Another thing had been taken from me, just when I thought there was almost nothing left to take. The possibility of even leading a slightly normal life had been taken from me by Morgoth, and now his spawn had taken from me the one thing I loved most- flying. More specifically long distance flying, and flying at high speeds. And I wasn't even able to take off properly at the moment. I kicked at the air, just causing pain to lance up my bad leg. I swore some more.

When I eventually calmed down a bit, I realised we had made our way to the edge of the Fangorn. It was strange really, because the trees had been loud enough to hear from Helms Deep before (just to me of course) then had proceeded to stay silent until we were at its border. The rustle of leaves and the sound of birds had begun again now. I rode by Legolas and Gimli, who rode by Gandalf. Gimli was afraid of the wood.

"It is hot in here." Legolas remarked to Gandalf and I. "I feel a great wrath about me. Can't you feel the air throb in your ears?" Indeed I could, but most likely to a lesser extent than Legolas and Gandalf. The forest knew me well. We rode in silence for a while, cocking our heads to the side every once in a while to listen to the sounds of the wood. "These trees are the strangest I have ever seen," Legolas finally remarked "and I have seen many and oak grow from acorn to ruinous age. I wish I could walk among them: they have voices, and in time I might understand their thoughts." He was observant, and wise to notice that, I thought to myself.

But Gimli cried "No! Let us leave them. I guess their thoughts already: a hatred for all who walk on two legs, and their speech is crushing and strangling." I allowed myself a small smile at his words. He couldn't be more wrong.

"Not everything, I think." Legolas retorted, "I think it is orcs they hate, for they do not belong here. But far away in deep dales of the Fangorn is where they come from."

"Then this is the most perilous wood in Middle- Earth. I should be grateful to them for destroying the straggling orcs, but I do not love them."

I decided to join the conversation. "You are both wrong. Orcs do not come from here, but from some old goblin tunnels beneath them, west at the base of the misty mountains. And the trees will bring us no harm unless we bring it to them. But it is dangerous."

"I never knew," Said Legolas, genuinely surprised. He turned to Gimli. "See Gimli, there is nothing to be afraid of, if you keep your axe away from the trunks."

He grumbled. "You may think them wonderful, but I have seen a greater wonder in this land, more beautiful than any grove of glade. Do you know the caverns of Helms Deep are vast and beautiful? There would be an endless pilgrimage of dwarves merely to gaze at them if such things were known! Aye they would pay pure gold! You think the halls are fair where your king dwells under the hill in Mirkwood, dwarves helping make them long ago. They are but hovels compared to the caverns I have seen, immeasurable halls filled with everlasting music of water that tinkles in pools, fair as Kheled-zaram in the starlight.." Gimli continued his monologue not even halfway through.

Legolas leant over and whispered in my ear. "I think he prepared this speech beforehand- he said the exact same thing word for word before we entered." I gave a proper smile- how did he make me do it? Many times he spoke to me now, a warm fuzzy feeling rose in my stomach. I pushed it down and ignored it. I had no need for sensations I had never felt before, and did not even know a name for. "I have to agree." I whispered back at him. "No-one can just spout this off the top of their head." At this Gimli finished his speech.

"This all sounds lovely" I told him "but I have one better. At Carn Dum, far in the north I have heard of the Auroras, waves of coloured light dancing across the skies. At dawn, dusk and night they appear, waving beams of green, red, blue, pink and purple. I have heard they are the most beautiful sight in the whole of Arda. I would give an arm and leg, just for a moment of sight to see them."

"Both your words move me" Legolas said to us. "You make me regret not having seen these caves or lights. Let us make a bargain- if we all return safe from the awaiting perils, we will journey a while together. You can visit the Fangorn with me, Darke and I shall visit Helms Deep with you Gimli, and we will travel with Darke to see the Auroras."

It sounded like a good deal. Though I had stayed in the Fangorn many times, and couldn't see the lights or the caves, I would enjoy spending more time in the company of the dwarf and elf.

"That's not the way of going home that I would chose," Gimli said, "But I will endure the Fangorn and Carn Dum if you share the wonders of the caves with me."

I nodded. "I have nowhere to go after this. I will gladly go with you both."

"And I promise that I shall go with both of you," Legolas replied, "But now we must leave all behind us, as we are coming to the end of the forest. How far to Isengard Gandalf?"

Gandalf, who was in front of us, replied "About fifteen leagues, 5 from the mouth of Deeping coomb to the fords of Isen, and 10 from there to Isengards gates."

We continued the rest of the journey in relative silence, me feeling happier after the conversation. We followed the road from Edoras to the Fords of Isen, and left the forests eaves. When we left, tree shepherds emerged from the trees. Twelve feet or more, groaning and creaking, giant feet making the ground vibrate beneath our horses. They sent forth calls, which were answered by others from the north. I myself spoke with Quickbeam, one of my oldest friends whom I escaped Beleriand with. We conversed, me in Vianliz and he in Treeish both understanding each other. "You are not the same as you once were young Darke. Your breath grows raggard, and you grow tired." He told me. "I agree old friend. I am not alright."We passed the Coomb, and the sun set. The mournful cries of Crebian hung in the air at dusk, and when night fell wolves howled. The springs of Isen no longer flowed, because Saruman had cut them off, so Quickbeam informed me. We halted at the foot of the misty mountains that night to rest. After another day of riding, we camped by the bed of the Isen river. I tried that night to run, as my leg had almost healed, only to double over in pain from the heavy breathing. That night I found that I could not breathe deeply without inflaming my side, and cursed voluminously. A mist appeared that night, humid and heavy. It was Saruman's doing, and the night felt long. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf and I spent the night huddled by the fire. The Ents moved the trees during that night as well, and the grass felt flatter beneath the foot. In the early hours of the morning with a loud rumble and rush, the Isen began to flow like it always had.

At dawn we left, and reached Nan Curiner, or the wizards vale. Where there was once fertile land, lay bramble and thorn bushes, and many times my cloak snagged on a thorn. My backside also hurt like hell after the constant riding. I easily saw why Gimli disliked horses. Everything felt damp, telling me the mist had not left. We rode through the city, passing the pillar of the hand. The Rohirrim murmured, and Gandalf told me it had been painted with red like dried blood.

At last we halted, the damp clearing up even though common sense told me it was past noon. I covered my ears, as the gates let out a loud squeal and fell. We had reached the gates of Isengard, and had almost reached Orthanc.

Yay! A long chapter! Once again apologies for the late post. The last set of italics mean that Darke is speaking Vianliz and Quickbeam is speaking treeish.

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