Merry almost Christmas mellyn! Just two chapters to go :) and yes there will be a chapter posted on Saturday and on New Years! The end it finally in sight!
This chapter is dedicated to my faithful reviewer silverarrow! Happy birthday mellon nín! Continue to be amazing and never change! Palju õnne sünnipäevaks! (I take no blame if this is wrong! I asked Google translate!) (so sorry that this is a little late! I have been in quarantine in the mountains with no WIFI!)
For Hello_LOTR: Yes they do really need to figure themselves out don't they! Well we will have to see ;)
Thank you elvenmaia! You sure help me more than you know!
Out of Mirkwood
Scribbles-on-Parchment
December 23, 2020
Chapter 73 – Healing Touch
Narril had been preparing for the return of the King's patrol. A message had been delivered regarding their estimated time of arrival and of the number of wounded and casualties that they were bringing with them. It had been larger than expected.
However, when Meldir escorted two guards into the Healing room she had felt a sudden sense of dread at the Silvan's concerned face. Narril had stopped what she had been doing, getting the feeling that her skills were about to be needed.
The injured ellon had been moved into one of the smaller adjoining rooms before she could see who it was. Being the soul lead healer now that Úmmon was no longer with them, she had quickly followed calling for her son to gather supplies and join her. She did not know how life-threatening the eldar's wounds were.
The Silvan lay completely still on the narrow cot that he had been laid on. She hurried over to begin her assessment but was stopped by Meldir grabbing her arm. Narril sent him a confused look as the commander said quietly,
"I think it would be best if you were to prepare yourself or have someone else tend to him."
"Why? Who is it?"
Meldir just shook his head,
"I do not know if you are going to want to know."
This was too much for the healer. She roughly pushed passed the ellon and made her way quickly over to her new patient. As she looked down at the deathly pale face her hand flew to her mouth to stop the cry that threatened to break free.
The handsome features and long dark hair reminded her so much of Nalledir; but it could not be…
Narril did not hear her son come in behind her carrying clean bandages and fresh herbs, nor did she hear him calling to her. The healer just stood there in shock taking in the face she had not seen in so many long years. At last she felt her knees give way and she fell to the ground beside the cot, eyes filling with tears. The elleth took the eldar's limp hand in her own and placed a gentle kiss on the cool skin.
"Meleth nín," she whispered, "You have come back to me."
Legolas was tired. Tired of hugs, tired of questions, and just tired of elves in general. All he wanted to do was slip quietly into the palace and disappear from prying eyes. He had received far too many stares for his liking over the past week.
His adar had managed to escape the mass of eldar and the young ellon had seen him being led into the palace by several of his commanders. Kélion was still nowhere to be seen and Legolas half wondered if the prince had been trampled to death in all of the excitement or if he too had followed the king inside. Either way the Sinda was not here anymore and the elfling could not help but feel a bit hurt by this. He had returned home just to be once again forgotten about by the rest of his family.
"Why the sad face?" Legolas glanced up at Meldir who stood next to him protectively, "Are you not happy to be back?"
"Of course I am happy to be back," the young prince shot back.
"Then what? What is weighing on your heart? You look upset."
Legolas just shook his head and looked away at the Silvan elves that continued to crowd around him. His lack of an answer seemed to serve as a sort of signal to both Meldir and his mentor for it was not long after that he found himself being escorted through the palace gates. The crowd behind them instantly began to disperse as the young Sinda disappeared from their sight.
The halls of the palace were virtually empty so both Silvans had little difficulty in leading Legolas through the maze of passages. Both ellyn spoke softly to one another, but the elfling did not take the time to listen to what they were saying.
After several days of getting to experience the open plains of Rohan, the cold stone walls of the palace suddenly seemed constricting. Had he really been gone for almost a week? Had he really had the chance to leave the Greenwood and see the lands that lay beyond? In Legolas's tired and muddled brain, it all seemed to be one long dream that he was about to wake up from.
As they entered the royal wing the young ellon did not even realize he was greeted by the two ellyn who stood guard. He did not notice as Meldir bid farewell to him or as Êmand opened the door to his room. He was too busy lost in a daze.
"Muindor?"
Legolas glanced up at the sound of Kélion's voice. His brother was standing beside the window in his room. It appeared as though he had been waiting for them. Behind him the young prince felt Êmand remove his hand from his shoulder and say,
"I shall go and call up a healer to look over you penneth."
He heard the door shut behind his mentor and all went quiet for a long moment. Legolas fidgeted where he stood, suddenly very uncomfortable to be in the presence of his older brother. At last he looked up and said softly,
"I am sorry Kélion. I am so sorry for everything."
These simple words seemed to break the awkwardness between the two eldar. The elfling watched as Kélion's eyes filled with emotion. A moment later he was once again held tightly in the strong arms of his older brother. Legolas melted into the embrace and let his guard down for the first time in many days. Tears began to spill silently down his cheeks while quiet sobs wracked his body. He was greatly relieved that no one was around to watch.
The two brothers stood like this for several minutes, neither saying a word, until at last the young prince's sobs faded away.
"He told you didn't he?"
Kélion frowned slightly at Legolas's words, but did not loosen his hold on the elfling.
"What do you mean?"
"Adar. Did he not tell you about what happened to me and why I was taken by the Noldor?"
The young Sinda's voice was slightly hoarse from crying.
"He did penneth."
"And do you hate me?"
Kélion pulled away from the ellon so he could look Legolas in the eyes,
"What in all of arda would I hate you? You are my brother. I could never hate you," The gold flecked orbs that looked back at him were so filled with grief and regret that it tore at the older elf's heart, "There is no need to think these thoughts, for none of them are true. Both adar and I are so happy you are back with us."
"But I ran away in the first place. I caused all of this to happen. I was the one who caused all of those ellyn to be slaughtered by the yrch. It was all my stupid fault."
"No," Kélion's voice was firm, "The ellyn that died today were killed serving their king and their people. It was not your fault that they were slain by such evil creatures. And if I remember what happened correctly you also did not leave the Greenwood of your own accord. I also seem to recall that when you were recovered you demanded to be brought back. I do not see how any of this was your fault."
Legolas did not respond but looked away,
"I am not sure adar will ever see it that way though. I am not even sure he wants me here anymore."
"That is not true. He has such great love for you, yet he forgets how to show it when he is around you. When we had thought you dead it almost killed him. You mean more to him then he will ever be able to tell you - you must realize this."
The young Sinda wiped his hand along his face to get rid of the remaining tears that still clung to his dark lashes and said softly,
"Perhaps. I only wish…"
Legolas's voice faded as his eyes glazed over in deep thought.
"You only wish what?"
But Kélion got no more from his younger brother. Instead the ellon shook his head and walked around the crown prince. A second later the door to Legolas's wash room clicked shut.
As Legolas stepped into the smaller adjoining room a wave of guilt washed over him. Guilt about Êmand, Meldir, Kélion. These ellyn really did care about him and here he was shutting them out. Part of the elfling wanted to run back out and fall back into his brother's embrace and tell him all of the things that were weighing heavily on him; instead, he found himself closing the thick wooden door behind him. What was he doing? He was becoming just like his adar, closed off and angry.
Legolas let out a shuddering breath and put his back against the door letting himself slowly sink to the floor. All of the aches and pains that he had ignored throughout the day now came anew. His shoulder was beginning to throb viciously, not liking all of the harsh treatment it had come under. The young prince glanced down and frowned as he saw small red spots on the bandage Êmand had so carefully wrapped around his wound so many hours ago. No doubt Narril would not be happy that he had not come to her immediately.
The ellon let his head fall back so it rested against the door and closed his eyes trying to bring his emotions under control again. As he did so a sudden blazing white pulse of pain rippled through his body. Legolas gasped and screwed his eyes shut to keep from crying out. The feeling tore through him again, this time stronger. It was cutting at his súlë and seeming to be sucking the very energy from his body.
Immediately Legolas knew what was happening. There was an attack on the barrier. Since it was now his magic that was binding it together, the elven wall was taking the energy from him to strengthen itself.
The white-hot pain spiked again and the young prince felt himself crumple to the cold floor suddenly unable to hold himself upright. His mouth opened to call out to Kélion but no sound came. All he could do was lay there and pray that the energy drawn from him was not enough that it ended up killing him.
The first things that Tamír became aware of was a hand running lightly, almost lovingly, down the side of his face. Gradually a familiar voice singing a sweet melody reached his ears. He knew that voice.
The Silvan's eyes snapped open; instantly memories flooded his mind and with it came an overwhelming sensation of pain which radiated from his chest. His vision went grey for a moment as his breathing began to accelerate. He had been shot in the chest. The horrified look on Meldir's face was the last thing he remembered seeing before the forest had turned to black. Meldir, his young student from so many years ago. Did this mean he was a long last back in the Greenwood? He never imagined he would be.
"Mell nín, you must remain calm for me. Focus on my voice and not on the pain."
The voice rang through Tamír's mind and he gradually felt himself calming.
"You are doing so well. When you have the strength you can try to open your eyes again."
Slowly the pain began to die away to a more tolerable level as the voice continued to speak to him. At last he felt strong enough to open his eyes again.
He found himself looking into the most beautiful face he had ever set eyes on or ever would again.
"Narril?" he croaked out as he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, "You are here."
"Yes. I am here and I am here to stay," her gentle brown eyes were beginning to fill with tears as the elleth said this, "You have much explaining to do and if you ever leave me again then I swear to Eru I will never forgive you."
Tamír felt a genuine smile form on his face. This was his wife; this was the Narril that he knew and loved. The two eldar embrace for a long while until the ellon became aware of another elf watching them. He glanced up and saw a young Silvan standing before him. The gentle features of the ellon's face reminded him so much of Narril's. Before he could realize what this meant the young eldar took a step closer, a broad smile covering his handsome face. He knelt beside Tamír's cot and took his hand saying softly,
"Adar? It is me, Nalledir, your son."
Elvish Translations:
meleth nín – my love
adar – father
mell nín – my beloved
muindor – brother (Sindarin)
penneth – young one
súlë – spirit
