Chapter 20

Gwend

Thranduil was too impatient to wait for her. He was fully-clothed when he decided to look for her, thinking that how could looking for a boot be so hard. Then again, he assumed she ran across another critter in the woods, must be a fawn this time, and she had forgotten why she was there in the first place. He sighed; he knew Erynlith enough that she could get carried away with the simplest of things. Suddenly, he smiled just thinking about her.

Taking his sword and bow, he went off to fetch her.

But before he could leave the river bank, Erynlith came back towards him. He looked puzzled at her disheveled look, and his eyes widened at the gushing red on her right wrist. He was frozen, and didn't know what to do. She was screaming at him, pleading and pulling him by the wrist; but he could not make out the words. He was too horrified with her wounded wrist.

What was happening? Why was she hurt? Who hurt her?

These questions flooded his mind, and he could still not react. No words fell from his mouth, even if he wanted to assure her.

"Thranduil!" Erynlith was shouting, desperately pulling his arm; her own wrist was tainted with blood. "Thranduil, run!"

And at that moment, Thranduil heard her voice, and he was sent back to reality. An angry howl snapped him from his pathetic trance, realizing that they were in a compromising situation. Out from the bushes there sprinted a brown-furred warg, its bloodshot eyes glaring menacingly at the two elves. It was growling as it slowly made its way towards them. Thranduil heard Erynltih gasp, and she cowered behind him, still trying to pull him away from the scene. But the warg pounced again, and Thranduil pushed Erynlith out of the way. She rolled over to the river's damp banks, face first on the damp soil, as Thranduil was thrown aside by the warg. It had its fangs bared against him, and he mustered all his strength to keep the fangs from sinking in. Thranduil held the warg's mouth, droplets of saliva trickled on his robe, and the warg was kneading him through the ground. Erynlith scrambled back onto her feet, pulling out one of her white daggers.

Then, another warg jumped in and clawed at her. Again she was thrown, dropping the weapon, and she heard Thranduil calling out to her. From her blurry vision he was still fighting off the huge warg above him, and he was weaponless; his sword and bow lost in the encounter. The second warg leapt on Erynlith, and she rolled away, only to hit the back of a tree trunk. The warg followed her, diving in for the kill, and the force uprooted the tree behind her. She stood up in an attempt to grab a weapon, but the warg had pushed her away again. The sharp claws hit her torso, she gasping at the pain.

And Thranduil had watched it. Momentarily, he was able to overpower the warg above him in a swift motion, and quickly grabbed the dagger lying on the ground. His hands were now stained with his blood, excruciating pain shooting up in his head, but he did not care anymore. The second warg attacked him, pinned him back onto the ground, and opened its large jaws. But the pain that he awaited was not there; instead, he felt the warg shift slightly above him.

Erynlith had tackled the second warg with all her might, but not enough to completely daunt the creature. In that brief distraction, Thranduil slipped past the hovering warg and picked up his sword. The other creature attempted to pounce on Erynlith, and had come in contact with Thranduil's defensive blow instead. It fell with a loud howling cry, and Thranduil quickly rushed to Erynlith.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, panting heavily. "There's still another one."

The second growled as vengeance for its companion. It pounced towards Thranduil, and he swung his sword once again. The warg dodged and bit on the sword hard enough to give it a small crack. Thranduil tried to pull his sword away, but the first, now injured, warg tackled him again. He fell, his grip on his sword gone, and his back hit the uprooted tree trunk. He groaned in the pain; his back hit the hilt of the ingrained dagger there, the one Erynlith had left a few days ago. He writhed in pain on the ground, his moans soft but overwhelming, as the two wargs loomed over to him.

Erynlith ran behind the two creatures and picked up Thranduil's bow and quiver. She called out to the creatures, hoping to distract them away from the worn out elf prince. Fortunately, the two wargs turned and snarled at her. As they slowly made their way towards her, temporarily forgetting the writhing Thranduil, Erynlith notched an arrow and carefully aimed. She tried to remember what Raithon had taught her. The first arrow was released, and it hit the first warg on the throat. The creature howled in agony while the second one charged again. Erynlith wanted to run off in fear, but she stood her ground and fired another arrow. Again, it hit the warg's throat.

Ever so slowly, Thranduil got up and pulled the dagger from the tree trunk, and embedded it deep within the second warg's throat. He twisted the blade slowly, making sure the blade grinded the flesh within, as the warg howled and writhed beneath him. The other ran towards Erynlith, and she spent the arrows aiming at the creature's head until it moved no more. Then, Thranduil recovered the blade and panted.

Victory was achieved.

Erynlith quickly dropped the bow and raced towards Thranduil. He collapsed on the ground, mainly because of exhaustion. The dagger slipped from his blood-stained hands as he leaned his back against the uprooted tree trunk. His vision was blurry, and his heart was hammering against his chest. He could see Erynlith kneeling beside him, with her grey eyes scanning his exhausted form.

"Thranduil!" She worriedly called out to him, gently tapping his cheek to keep him awake.

He turned to her despite his failing vision, and then smiled weakly. He brought his stained hands to her cheek and cupped it lightly.

"Are you hurt, little one?" His voice was soft and weak.

She shook her head. "I'm good. You should see yourself, tra-la. Here, give me your hand. It's bleeding terribly, tra-lo." She ripped a piece of her tunic and began wrapping his hands. "You'll be fine, you'll see. Santien will look after you, tra-lay." She bowed her head, obscuring his view of her. She felt guilty about this, and there was no other way to put it. Her tears welled on her eyes, and she blinked them back. "I am so sorry, Thranduil. This is my entire fault. I shouldn't have brought them here. I shouldn't have even thrown that stupid boot in the first place…"

He chuckled. "Oh, please. Do not get so dramatic with me now. This is not you." He smiled at her. "Now, little one, won't you smile for me?"

She did, despite being a forced one. Carefully, she guided Thranduil onto his feet and collected the weapons scattered on the ground. Daggers, bow and quiver, and the broken sword were all collected. The wargs were lifeless, and the two elves hurried back towards the palace.

It was too early for such a chaos.

They had not even eaten breakfast yet.

The moment they reached the palace, the Elven-guard and Silvan folk stormed towards them. Thranduil collapsed once again in Raithon's arms, his consciousness slowly failing him. He was panting heavily, the pain in his hands and back still lingered terribly. The elf guards scattered to call the King and Santien. There was much turmoil in the palace in such an early morning. Soon, Santien and the other healers arrived. The auburn-haired healer assessed Thranduil's condition: his hands and his head. The elf guards arrived with King Oropher who was suddenly frozen at the sight of his disheveled son. Without orders from the King, the guards carried Thranduil to the infirmary, leaving the Silvan folk murmuring among themselves.

Erynlith was standing silently. After they had arrived, none gave attention to her. She was contented, and she was tired. The look on King Oropher's face was what worried her, and that of Thranduil's condition. For a moment there, she had forgotten of the new injury she acquired. Her right wrist was damaged once again. Her initial encounter with the wargs resulted in a big bite, fangs pierced through her flesh, and the shards of the poisoned arrow that once penetrated her skin. It was the reason why she was in Greenwood in the first place. Had it not for that terrible incident in the High Pass, she wouldn't be there. She wouldn't meet Thranduil.

But Thranduil was in the infirmary. She could already imagine him being surrounded by countless healers, desperate to get their prince healed soon. She could imagine the worry look on King Oropher's face, the concerned look of a father for his only son. And Raithon could be cursing right now, angry of what happened to his friend. The Elven-guard could be mustered in no time, hunting out for the rest of the warg pack. From the corner of her eye, she could see figures of the Silvan folk whispering something about her; in that Silvan dialect that was slowly igniting an irritation inside her. But could she really blame them? She was supposed to be a guest of the King, revered and well-behaved, probably even a guest on Elrond's behalf from Rivendell. But no; she caused them trouble by endangering Thranduil.

"Lady Erynlith," a soft voice called out from behind her. It was Amardís. She looked concerned, and in her hands was a damp cloth. "My lady, your hands… Let me wash them first. Lady Santien wants you in the infirmary as well. Please, my lady…"

Erynlith did not answer. She allowed Amardís to clean the dried blood off her wrist and even on her cheek where Thranduil had touched her. The cold touch of the cloth soothed her, and it relaxed her briefly. However, she refused to be admitted into the infirmary, not when King Oropher was around. What would she tell the King?

Speaking of the King, Oropher marched over to Erynlith after visiting the infirmary. He had seen enough of his son's terrible condition to stay long. As he approached her, he smiled warmly. "You look not so good yourself, dear girl. Shouldn't you be in the infirmary as well?"

"I am very sorry, my lord!" Erynlith said quickly, bowing her head too low. She was shaking with the King's wrath. "It is my entire fault. He was not supposed to be in the forest. I brought the wargs back to him when I should have faced them myself. I was too scared to even help him right away. The fault in entirely mine, my lord, and I accept any punishment you deem worthy. If you wish to exile me from Greenwood, then so be it."

The words fell from her mouth too quickly that King Oropher needed a moment to process it. In his part, he was disappointed about what happened to them, especially to his son. But there was no one to blame. Both younger elves were hurt, and Oropher thanked the Valar for saving them. The King gently patted her head and smiled again.

"All is well, Erynlith," he said reassuringly. "Do not blame yourself. No one ever meant for this to happen. And Thranduil should be stable by now. He has been asking for you since he was admitted there."

She blinked. "Oh, no I couldn't interrupt him while he is resting. Perhaps later, my lord."

"He insists," Oropher said amusedly. "You know how demanding he can be. Despite his constant stubbornness to you, and maybe a little self-centered, he cares for you."

She didn't know how to take that statement. "Um, yes, and I care for him, too." Well, that went unplanned. She blanched when the words slipped and she felt like slapping her forehead. She sheepishly looked at the King, who understood her situation.

Oropher laughed. "Well, you should visit him later."

With that, he went off, followed by some of his attendants. Erynlith and Amardís went back to Erynlith's room for a good long rest. It was good thing Amardís was there to give her company, and the two quickly became friends even at their first meeting. When Erynlith had showered and given new set of clothes, her injured wrist was bandaged; she sank on her bed and fell into a dreamless oblivion.

Erynlith woke up in the evening and was told that the King wanted to share dinner with him. Amardís helped her in getting into fine clothes, and then she marched back to the banquet halls. The food was modest, and Erynlith ate little. Vegetables were served again, also wine. Her appetite subsided throughout the whole day, and she just wanted to feel better. She spoke little to the King, still feeling guilty about that morning's incident. But the King was ever friendly, and suggested that she should visit Thranduil in the infirmary. Oropher pressed that his son had been looking for her, and he was restless and demanding. Just like the usual Thranduil she knew.

After a small talk, Erynlith excused herself from dinner and went straight to the infirmary just as the King wanted. She was shaking all the way there, unsure of what to find. The place was dimmed with lighting, and Raithon and some of his guards stood by the doorway. Warmly, Raithon smiled at her, noticing her neatly bandaged wrist, and opened the door for her. Santien was with two other healers, but they were sitting on one corner. At the sight of Erynlith, the two healers dismissed themselves and went outside.

"Where have you been?" Santien asked in her familiar stern voice. Despite all the beauty that was her face, she was indifferent and as demanding as Thranduil. Even as an excellent healer, her demands scared Erynlith.

"Um, I was having dinner with the King…"

Santien nodded in understanding. She went for the doorway. "In that case, you should see him. He has been ticking me off the whole afternoon. Luckily, he got tired and fell asleep. Don't worry about his hands. They are gashed and should not be moved too much. Basically, Thranduil is fine." She explained anything that Erynlith might ask, and the younger elf nodded her thanks. Santien left the room to see Raithon.

Erynlith approached the bed. He was on the bed beside the window, and a small chair was provided on the other side. He was covered with white sheets, eyes closed and chest heaving lightly. Her eyes fell on his hands; both were wrapped in bandages. She sat on the chair, unsure of what do. For some reason, she reached out her hand, a shaking one at that, and brushed her fingers on his cheek in a feather-like touch. Of course, he did not move. He was deep asleep when she arrived. Her caress continued, and as the time passed, she felt more and more guilty. She stopped touching his cheek and her touch settled on his right hand. His hand flinched at her touch, and she looked up to him.

Thranduil was awake and smiling at her. His hand left her touch, and his index finger playfully tapped her nose. "Where have you been, little one?"

She smiled a little. "For some reason, everyone is looking for me the whole day."

"Well, you missed a lot of things today. Santien was really in her usual grumpy mood. Raithon was super talkative. And my father was doting on me." He let out a dramatic sigh. "Somehow, I needed your touch of eccentrics and glares."

"Well, if that is so, let me stay here and be as eccentric as I can be, tra-la-lay."

"That! That is exactly what I am waiting for." Thranduil sighed and sank back in his soft bed. He closed his eyes again. "Ah, now I feel better. Could you stay here with me for the rest of the tonight? I'm afraid Santien will have to stay and she might try to suffocate me. I won't risk that."

They both laughed.

"This is better, right?" he continued, opening one eye to peek at her. She looked confused, still unable to grasp his meaning. He sighed and shifted on his bed so that he would lie on his back, his right arm pillowed under his head, and him looking at her. "I mean, things are better when we are not arguing, don't you think?"

"Now that you've mentioned, it does sound nice." Erynlith scooted closer to the edge of the bed and leaned both her arms. "We can get along if you don't happen to be such a self-centered, narcissistic prince."

"You know self-centered and narcissistic mean the same thing," he pointed out.

"And if you don't happen to be sarcastic…"

"That's an understatement."

"And demanding…"

"Not every day though."

"And haughty…"

"What? No, I am not. I am extremely humble!"

She laughed. "And you are so freakishly annoying…"

There was a bewildered look. "What? Whoa, hold up. Speak for yourself. You can be freakishly annoying, too."

"Like right now?"

"Yes! Like right now so stop it already. Can we go back to the part wherein we're actually starting to be friends-friends?"

She laughed again. "But we are 'friend-friends', but not that kind of close friends, tra-la-lay…"

Thranduil finally sat up on his bed. He was surely entertained now, in the middle of the night, and this younger elf made it happen. The pain in his hands and back subsided, and his attention was focused all on her.

As he sat up, he looked at her with a cheeky smile.

"Maybe we should start with the nicknames. Good friends have nicknames with each other, don't they?" He didn't mean it, of course. It was all for the sake of messing with her.

Erynlith quickly recoiled from the bed, cringing at the idea of nicknames. "Don't even get me started on that! Nicknames are for children, for cliché people." She pouted at the memory of Erestor calling her pet names when she was just a child, with the dark-haired Captain of Rivendell cooing at her every once in a while. Her brother had adored her then, but now she seemed to be annoying to him.

"Oh, but it would be fun," Thranduil insisted, suppressing an incoming wider smile. "I can already think of a few nicknames for you. Let's say… Eryn nin, maybe?"

"What? No! Thranduil, stop it! Stop sounding like Erestor! You have no right to call me that! And Eryn nin? That sounds too cliché for a hundred year old elf! No, stop laughing! This is not funny. You are not funny! Thranduil!"

But he didn't stop laughing. He was already pressing a hand to cover his mouth, holding back his laughter, but it still echoed in the room. Erynlith huffed and stood up, only to be pulled back again by Thranduil. She yelped and dropped on the bed, her face burying on the white blankets. When she gasped, she snatched her wrist away from his grip and slapped his hand away.

"Okay, I get it!" Thranduil said in his defense. "No nicknames, of course. They do sound cliché, don't they? But I've been calling you names lately. Does that count? I can call you more insulting names that I can think of. That shouldn't sound cliché."

And the conversation continued. The two elves continued on and on about their idle talk, talking about nothing in particular. They talked about their lives, their dreams, some of their adventures, everything. The night had waned, and they kept on going. They began to see each other in a new light, not just some two elves insulting and annoying each other, but two friends. Their friendship started out will full of mindless games and secrets, now bound with their courage. The morning that started out as disastrous ended with a night filled with sarcastic remarks and laughter, and that friendship strengthened.

Gwend is Sindarin for "friendship".

Next Chapter: Oropher openly mentions the upcoming War. Erynlith takes an initiative.

Author's Notes: Ah, another action-packed chapter. Hoped you did not mind! I really couldn't get enough of imagining Thranduil in action, after watching him fight in The Battle of the Five Armies. Aaaand, today is Valentine's Day. Did anyone get a Valentine today? Or am I the only one to spend the time daydreaming about my favourite elves?

*MoonlightArrow - Aww, thank you! And thank you for reviewing~!

*Asmodeus Black - For a while I was worried that shut down. (*ﾟﾛﾟ) Anyways, thank you for stopping by!

*xSiriuslyPadfoot - Don't worry. I'd give anything to be in Eryn's place too!

*KrystylSky and Lady Syndra - Yes, I do think wargs could be cute pets. Just imagine a little furry puppy running after you~ But then after some years, they would become really scary!

*Limbairedhiel - Oh, it's all right! I do not mind people reviewing to point out some mistakes. If you could tell me which particular mistakes I make, it would make me really grateful. I understand fangirling over Legolas; I fangirled over him as well during my early days in the LOTR fandom, and I still fangirl over him now. If Leggles looked at me in the eyes, I swear blood will flow from my nose! I've read your new baby story, too! I love the inclusion of Black Speech, though you really should have written more for the first chapter. Good luck with it!

*DeLacus - *POLICE SIRENS* *HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRRING* *SPEAKING WITH A MEGAPHONE*

"HALT! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR STRIPPING WITHOUT THE CONSENT OF THE FANGIRLS! PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON OR SO HELP ME I WILL DO IT MYSELF!"

Now, that's over. Hurray for Raithon's appearance! I kind of like him myself, too. But no hurray for the upcoming war! (T_T) #MyFeels

For everyone's reading pleasure~