Hey Everyone! This is definitely one of the LOTR/Hobbit fanfics I enjoyed working on more. So hopefully that means you enjoy reading it more! One can hope, lol.
That's...really all I have to say, other than my normal warning that I haven't read or watched all of Lord of the Rings...Beware, I guess?
Enjoy!
Elvish translation:
Ion nin-my son
Adar/Ada-Father/Dad
It wasn't often that he was free to spend time however he wanted, so while he was on his month off from patrol, he made sure to spend time in the woods, alone, appreciating the nature and life all around him.
Some times he went on foot, other times, such as this, he went on his horse. And, of course, he could not stay out of trouble.
Legolas's eyes widened in surprise as a small animal burst out of the undergrowth. It scurried across the path right under his horse's feet before it disappeared. However, even if it had stayed in sight for longer, Legolas still wouldn't have been able to identify it, as he was busy trying to regain control of his horse.
Faransta, as the prince had dubbed his steed, had spooked when the animal had ran right under it's nose, and so, like any horse would, no matter if it was elvish, it reared up on its hind legs and let out a neigh.
The rider on its back dug his knees in to try to keep his seat, and gripped the reins tightly, but he had not been expecting the motion from his usually well behaved horse, and he slid off as Faransta reached the pinnacle of his buck.
Legolas crashed to the ground in a blur of motion, landing on his right side before rolling quickly onto his back. His whole side was sore, of course, but he mainly felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder.
After a few moments during which he took in what had happened, he rose to a crouch, hissing as the motion tugged at the skin on his shoulder, letting him know that there was most likely a cut there. Faransta was standing there, slightly nervous still, but otherwise calm, so Legolas turned his attention to his injury.
First he surveyed the ground, and saw that there was a small rock hitting out of the ground right where his shoulder had landed. The rock had a jagged edge, which was undoubtedly what had cut his shoulder. But he stared at it for a few moments longer, noticing a strange black substance, almost a goo, on it. Shrugging it off, Legolas then turned his attention to his right shoulder.
He peeled away the material that was covering the cut, and saw a slice in his shirt about three inches long. The actual cut was only about half that length, and didn't look too bad overall. Legolas had gotten much worse on patrol, so this in comparison was like a sliver.
His horse was sitting there calmly, then, so Legolas approached him and reached into one of the pouches which hung from his saddle. Years of being out in the forest on patrols had taught him to always be prepared, and so he always had a medical kit on hand.
Taking out a bandage and the material needed to wrap it, and an antiseptic for the wound, he then sat on the ground to patch himself up. He rolled the sleeve of his right shoulder up until he had clear access to the wound, then poured some of the antiseptic on it, wincing as it stung a little. Next he placed the small bandage over the cut, and proceeded to wrap it tightly with a roll of material all the way around his arm, and tied it off so it would stay in place.
He knew that the wound was not serious, but he had also learned over the years that it was better to be safe than sorry.
Having done with that, he rolled down his shirt sleeve and put all his things away, before mounting Faransta again, and deciding to turn to go back the the castle.
Legolas estimated, by the position of the sun and by the time it had been when he had left, that it was around two o'clock in the afternoon. There was a council meeting in half an hour that he was expected for, so he would have to go to that as soon as he got back.
As he rode back, Legolas thought of the place he had just left. Where he had fallen from his horse happened to be a spot where orcs had been killed a week previously. It was amazing how quickly nature revives things. There used to have been blood splattered on the ground, of both orc and elf, but the rain had washed it away. True, the elves had removed the bodies of the orcs to burn them, but nature had still done it's part, even though there hadn't been a heavy rain since then, only a few light drizzles.
Legolas loved nature, and he loved his forest, and that is why he fought so hard to protect it. He knew that one day he wouldn't have to fight so hard to protect the things he loved, and Mirkwood would be restored to it's former glory. But, until that day came, he would have to keep fighting, and attending council meetings when he wasn't. For the good of the people. Legolas dug his heels into the sides of his horse, increasing his pace. He didn't want to be late for the meeting.
When Legolas arrived back at Mirkwood Castle, he put his horse in the stables and left him for one of the stable boys to take care of, but not before saying farewell and thanks to the horse, as all elves were lovers of animals. He then strode into the castle and made his way to the council room, deeming himself tidy enough.
The King was already there, as were several of the other council members, and Legolas took his seat at the long table after greeting them. His father smiled at him slightly and nodded his head, greeting Legolas back. After that the other members started to trickle in, and the council proceeded.
They discussed many matters concerning the running of the kingdom, and Legolas tried to pay attention. Normally he would have had no problem, but his head seemed just rather foggy this time, and he had a hard time keeping up. He was also incredibly thirsty. Realizing this, Legolas poured himself a glass of water from the jug on the table. He had originally started to use his right hand as he normally would, but his shoulder protested raising his arm that high. The cut must have been at just the right spot that it hurt when he moved it, he thought. He instead used his left hand, which he did rather well, as he was used to using his left whenever he had an injury to his right arm. There was also wine on the table, but Legolas wanted something to quench his thirst and clear his mind, and wine would definitely not do that.
Legolas took one big gulp of water at first, and then many small sips, but his mouth still felt dry. Legolas was shifting in his seat by the time the meeting was only half through, his muscles seeming to protest any position, and he felt rather warm. He poured himself some more water to sip, it being his fourth glass already. And by the time the session was ending, Legolas was exhausted and he felt a strange pressure in his head.
The other members of the council all left, except for the king, who always stayed later, and Legolas, who did not feel like standing yet, even though he only wished to get to his room so he could sleep. He really was not feeling his best. He used the excuse of finishing his glass of water to postpone getting up, so that he could leave inconspicuously. When he finally stood up, he was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder, and he spun around to face his father, the king.
Thranduil had greeted Legolas when he walked in, but after that they did not have much communication, as the council meeting started. However he did notice that his son was drinking rather a lot of water, and appeared to be more tired and more distracted than usual.
It also did not escape the king's notice that Legolas used his left hand to pour and drink his water, while he would normal use his right, and he had not had an injury to his right arm earlier that day.
Thranduil was prepared to ignore it, and trust that Legolas could take care of himself: until the council meeting was over and Legolas stuck around to drink his fifth glass of water. Thranduil knew his son, and he knew that Legolas would not normally have had so much water. Looking closer, the king noticed that Legolas was a little pale.
Thranduil stood from his seat at the head of the table and walked over to Legolas, putting his hand on his son's left shoulder just as he was getting up. Legolas spun around in shock, and backed up slightly. Thranduil frowned, knowing that Legolas should have been able to hear him approach.
As the shock war off, Legolas relaxed, and seemed to slouch in exhaustion. He turned his face slightly away from his father, avoiding eye contact.
"Legolas, you do not seem well," Thranduil said. Now that he was up close he could also see the light layer of sweat gleaming on his son's forehead and upper lip. If he hadn't known better he would say that the prince was ill, but elves did not get ill, and Legolas should have had no wound to have been infected.
"I am fine, Ada, just tired. I believe that I will go rest in my room for a while," Legolas replied, turning away even more, as if to leave, but was stopped by Thranduil's hand tightening on his shoulder.
"Legolas, did your arm get injured?" Thranduil asked, intending to find out what was wrong with his son.
"My horse spooked while out riding and I fell. I am merely sore, and there is a small cut on my shoulder from where I fell on a rock. It is hardly worth mentioning."
Thranduil felt like pushing the matter, but he trusted Legolas's judgement-most of the time-and knew that elves couldn't get sick. If Legolas said that he was just tired, Thranduil would try to believe him.
"Alright, well, if you're sure, ion nin."
Legolas nodded to him, and turned to go. Thranduil hesitated for only a second, before he let go of his son's shoulder and watched as he walked out the door.
Thranduil then walked out of a different door, and headed to his study. By the time he sat down at his desk, his secretary was entering, and gave him a pile of paperwork to do.
For the next hour he read and signed papers, or put notes to bring up certain items in the next council meeting. Throughout that whole time, however, his mind was only half on work; the other half of it was on Legolas. After an hour had passed he could not take the worry anymore. He stood up without warning, startling his secretary, and marched out of his office without saying anything. His secretary knew better than to come after him though, and so he was left in peace as he marched to his son's room.
As Legolas marched out of the council room, and away from his father, he let out a small sigh of relief. He knew how much his father worried about him, and he hated that he had to. Legolas did not want to worry his father any more than he had to, and he was sure that he was just tired. Elves didn't get sick, and there was no way that his small scratch could have been infected. It wouldn't have happened that quickly, for one, and also, he had cleaned the wound well immediately. He had enough experience to know that it was not infected.
He did what he had said to the king, and went straight to his room. He was slightly dizzy, and felt hot, but that was all the more reason to get to his room and in bed faster.
Once he got to his chambers he started taking his leather tunic off, knowing that it would not be comfortable to sleep in. He didn't sit down on his bed to do it, for he suspected that if he sat down he would not be able to stay awake long enough to take off his tunic.
Once all the leather ties were undone, and the tunic slipped off, however, he crossed the room, and lay down on his bed, on top of the blankets, not even bothering to lay down properly, or with his head on the pillows. He was laying diagonally on the bed, half on his left side and half on his stomach. He let his eyes unfocus, let out a breath of satisfaction, and then was asleep.
Thranduil strode through the halls, not running, as that was undignified and not for a king, but not just walking either. He slowed before he got to the royal wing of the castle, not wanting the guards posted at the doors to see him running, but he walked more quickly again once he was past them.
He arrived at the doors to his son's room, partly breathless, and waited a moment to regain it and his composure before he knocked.
The sound of his knuckles on wood resounded loudly through the corridor, but when he did not hear anything from the other side he called out. "Legolas, it's me. May I come in?" When he still did not hear anything, he panicked. Legolas should have heard him and woken, if he was in there.
Thranduil grasped the door handle and pushed down on it, swinging open the door and stepping in, letting it swing closed behind him. He saw the long lump of fabric on the bed, topped with loose golden hair, some done in braids, although it was spread out around his head messily while he slept.
He rushed over to the bed and reached out to his son, gripping his shoulder and rolling him over. Legolas hissed as his right shoulder had pressure applied to it, and Thranduil drew his hand back, remembering that his son had said he got cut there. But, he thought, he had said it was not bad.
Legolas had rolled over at the pull, and was laying on his back. His eyes were almost closed in sleep, just cementing even more his father's suspicion that he was not well.
Thranduil hesitated for a second, unsure of what to do, but he decided that waking his son was the first thing that needed to be done. He started slapping the prince lightly on his cheek. "Legolas!" He called. "Legolas, wake up, ion nin." Legolas's brow furrowed, and he groaned as he shifted his head. Thranduil stopped and watched as Legolas lifted his eyelids slowly, glancing around to see where he was.
"Ada?" Legolas murmured, his eyes not quite focusing on Thranduil's face, but staring in his general direction.
"Legolas, I'm here," the king replied. "You're not well. I'm going to look at your shoulder."
Legolas merely groaned and closed his eyes, not bothering to hold his head up anymore. Thranduil didn't waste any more time, maneuvering Legolas's sleeve and arm around, the end outcome eventually being that Legolas was half out of his shirt, with his right arm bare. Thranduil saw the slight bandage that Legolas had applied, and he quickly untied the knot to remove it.
As he pulled the bandage away from his shoulder, Legolas hissed in pain, and opened his eyes again. This caused Thranduil to frown; he wished his son were not in pain, and yet it was the case so often. He did not, however, pause in taking off the bandage, knowing that doing it quickly would get the pain over faster. Although, after he was done, he was the one to hiss in a breath, not in pain, but in dismay at what he saw.
The cut was, as Legolas had said, small, but it was definitely worth mentioning. The wound itself was red and puffy, and his shoulder was swelled some. The most disturbing thing, however, were the black streaks shooting away from the wound, a clear sign of orc poison. He wondered how the cut had gotten poisoned by Legolas falling off his horse, but dismissed the thought in favour of getting aid for his son.
"Legolas," he said, making sure to keep his voice calm, "I'll be right back, I'm just going to call a healer."
"No," Legolas whimpered, making Thranduil's heart cry out in pain at hearing his son so weak and vulnerable. Legolas did not open his eyes, but did turn his head towards the sound of his father's voice, and tried to reach out to him.
Thranduil grabbed the hand that Legolas had stretched out, and gripped it gently and reassuringly; Legolas gripped it back, albeit weakly. "I will be right back, ion nin, I promise." Legolas released his hold on Thranduil's hand, which the older elf took as a yes.
The king released his son's hand as well, but set it gently on the bed first, then he rushed back over to the door of the room. "Guard!" He called down the hall, after opening the door. He waited until one of the guards opened the door at the end of the hall, which led to the royal's quarters, and ran towards Thranduil. "Go fetch a healer!" He said to the one that had run, and to the other, who had stuck his head through the door, though not abandoning his post, the king commanded, "Fetch me a bowl of water and a cloth, quickly!"
The first guard had rushed off before the order to the second had even been completed, and the second guard followed him quickly, intent on doing his own task as quickly as possible. This had happened enough times that the guards knew what was required of them, even though they hated the fact that they were not surprised at the king calling for healing aid from the prince's room.
While they were gone, Thranduil rushed back to Legolas's side. The prince had gained more awareness, and had his eyes opened, and focused. "Ada, what happened?" He asked; his voice was stronger than before, but still quiet.
"You've been poisoned, ion nin. I don't know how, but we will figure that out later. Right now, we just need to get you some help."
"Mm," was Legolas's only response, closing his eyes once more, and letting his head fall back on the mattress.
"Legolas, don't go to sleep, alright? Stay awake until the healer has finished examining you!" Thranduil said, grabbing Legolas's uninjured shoulder gently, and shaking it gently to keep him awake. Legolas opened his eyes slightly in response, but didn't say anything.
Thranduil, while he was waiting for the healer and the cool water, set about moving his son into a better position on the bed. He slid his arms underneath Legolas's knees and shoulders, and shifted him gently until his head was on the pillows, and he was in a straight line, parallel to the edge of the bed.
Mere moments after he was done that, the door burst open and one of the guards returned, carrying the items that the king had asked for. He had a bowl full of water in his hands, and Thranduil could see several clean cloths hanging over the edge of it. The guard placed it all down on the bedside table nearest to the prince, and then stepped back a few paces.
Thranduil waved his hand behind him, signaling to the guard that he was dismissed. The guard bowed low, even though the king couldn't see him, before walking out of the room and resuming his post at the entrance to the royal wing of the castle.
Thranduil didn't spare him a second glance, instead focusing on caring for his son. He grabbed one of the cloths hanging over the edge of the bowl, soaked it in the cool water, wrung it out, and gently draped it over Legolas's forehead. The prince sighed at the touch, and seemed to relax further into the bed. This, in turn, made Thranduil relax more. He knew that they had discovered the poison in time, and that his son would be fine with treatment. That didn't make seeing his son in pain easier, however.
Thranduil was just re-soaking the cloth when the door opened again, and a healer rushed in. Thranduil recognized her as one of the more experienced ones. Her name was Talara. She quickly rushed to the prince's side, forcing Thranduil to move out of the way for her. Normally he would not have tolerated such behavior, but since she was a healer, and his son's life was on the line, he didn't even give it a second thought.
Talara took over examining Legolas, occasionally asking him a question, which he would answer in a low murmur. This lasted for about five minutes, during which time Thranduil hovered and worried: the standard thing for a parent to do in such a situation.
Talara seemed to have gotten all the information she needed, and proceeded to dig through her medical bag, which she had brought with her, and pulled a vial out of it. The substance it contained was clear, with a green tint to it.
"My Lord," she said, addressing Thranduil, "I need Legolas to drink this. Do you think you could assist, him please, while I re-bandage his wound?"
"Of course," Thranduil replied, quickly grabbing the vial and rushing to Legolas's side. The prince was only half conscious at this time, his eyes only visible by a small slit. Thranduil, holding the vial in his left hand, slid his right arm under his son's neck and shoulder, gently lifting him up into a semi-sitting position, and tilting the contents of the vial into parted lips. Legolas swallowed instinctively, and his lips parted slightly again. In fact, he seemed to be breathing mostly through his mouth.
By looking over to Legolas's other side, Thranduil could see that Talara was just finishing tying the bandage on Legolas's shoulder. She looked over at the king when she was done. "He should be fine now, My Lord. What you just gave him was the antidote to the poison, so all it will take is some time for it to get through his system. I'd say he should be out of the worst of the effects by tomorrow morning, and take a couple days to get his strength back fully."
"Thank you," Thranduil said, bowing his head as the relief threatened to overcome him. No matter how many times this happened, how often Legolas was injured or poisoned, Thranduil still worried, and felt like he couldn't breath until he knew that his son was going to be alright.
"Of course, My Lord. I will come back tomorrow morning to examine Prince Legolas. Is there anything more you need?"
"No, thank you," Thranduil said, straigtening up as she gathered her bag, bowed, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Legolas's eyes were closed, and his breathing more even in sleep, Thranduil realized as he turned back to the bed. The king reached into the bowl of water which was still on the bedside table, and again put the wet cloth on his son's forehead after wringing it out some. Then, Thranduil pulled the chair from the desk up to the bed, and prepared to wait for his son to wake up.
Legolas was tired. Which was strange, considering he thought he had just woken up...although, he didn't remember falling asleep. His eyes were closed; that was also strange: elves only slept with their eyes closed when they were injured, completely exhausted, or poisoned or otherwise sick...oh, now he remembered. His father had said something to him about him being poisoned, and he remembered hearing the voice of Talara, a healer, and her and his father fussing around him.
His eyelids were heavy, but Legolas managed to lift them enough to be able to see his surroundings. He saw the ceiling of his room, and when he looked to his left, he saw his father, sitting in a chair, with a sheaf of papers in his hands.
"Ada," Legolas tried to say after a moment had passed. It ended up just being an "ah" sound, as the word seemed to get caught on his throat as he tried to say it. It fulfilled its purpose, however, which was to get the king's attention.
Thranduil's neck jerked up quickly, and a relieved smile appeared on his face as his eyes met Legolas's. He placed the papers down on the bedside table, where Legolas could also see a basin, a glass, and a pitcher of water. Legolas swallowed thickly at that last one, realizing how thirsty he was.
The motion had not gone unnoticed, and the next thing Legolas knew, his father was supporting his head and shoulders, and holding the glass of water to his mouth. The prince eagerly opened his mouth, and gulped down the water. It soothed his rough throat, and seemed to clear it up enough for talking to not be an impossibility.
"I was poisoned?" Legolas asked once he was finished drinking, relieved at how talking was easier after the water. His voice was still quiet and weak, however, something which escaped neither of their notices.
"Yes, Legolas. Somehow you managed to get yourself poisoned while going through a recreational ride through the forest. Whatever am I to do with you?" King Thranduil replied, putting three fingers to his forehead and the bridge of his nose, as if in irritation. He looked up again soon after, however, and from the smile Legolas saw on his face, the prince knew that his father was not actually mad at him. The smile disappeared after a moment, however, and was placed by a more serious look, one that was a mixture of confused and contemplating. "Although, I am curious as to how you got poisoned. You said you cut your shoulder on a rock. Where was that?"
Legolas thought for a moment, trying to work through the lasting fuzziness in his mind, but eventually gave pretty clear information on where it had happened.
When Thranduil heard this, he raised an eyebrow, he thought for a moment, and then asked, "Isn't that where that orc squall was last week?"
Legolas blinked once, then nodded. He had known that when he was there, he remembered. He had not been there for the fight, since he had been on a patrol elsewhere, but he had been told about it by some friends who had been there.
Thranduil smiled again, but this time it was one of irony, or humor. Legolas tilted his head to the side, an inquisitive look on his face. He knew that his father had figured something out.
"There haven't been any heavy rains since that battle. Some orc poison must have landed on that rock during the battle, probably from a tainted weapon that fell to the ground. It remained there in the absence of rain, and since it was just a short time ago, and when you cut yourself on that rock, it poisoned you," Thranduil explained.
Legolas adopted the same smile his father had, laughing at how simple it was, and yet it had nearly killed him.
"Well, what's done is done. And it actually rained while you were asleep. There's nothing we can do," Thranduil said, breaking the somber mood in the room. "You will be back to full health in a couple days, for now all you can do is rest."
Legolas nodded tiredly, already feeling the call of sleep. Thranduil stood up, leaned down, and gave Legolas a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well, ion nin." Legolas watched as he walked out of the room, and then closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him. The words of his father stayed in his mind, though, as did the smile that was on his face at the love of his father.
Yup, super unrealistic and rushed, I know, but I'm not the kind of person who can write cool battle scenes, or make up an epic backstory for some evil OC who hold a grudge against the main characters...or something. So I'm left with loosely made explanations for why my characters keep suffering. But that's okay, because I'm happy with them, and if even one other person enjoys them, then posting them has fulfilled its purpose.
I hope you enjoyed!
Oh, and btw, Faransta and Talara were OCs, in case you didn't know! :D