The Company of Three
Chapter Four: A Fading Eleniel
He ran. In the never-ending halls of his father's palace, he ran as if Sauron himself chased behind him. And in his arms, he carried what he swore to Mandos felt like a fading Eleniel. Limp, nearly lifeless, the woman felt like lead in his arms. The palms of his hands felt like the heaviness of sap, with what he could only assume now to be blood. Lots of it. He had found his friend curled up in the darkest, coldest part of the atrium that held his father's private rooms. The very place only hours earlier he and Eleniel had stood together, defying their father's rule. Or attempting it, he thought to himself. Eleniel had been left alone to her own father's cruel devices, and what they were, Legolas was not so sure anyone would ever know either. Eleniel had never been very forthcoming about her life away from the palace eyes. The life she and her five older brothers shared. Even the little pieces he did know he had forced out of Eleniel on long journeys and scouting parties across Middle-Earth in their centuries together. But in this instance, the corridors of Thranduil's halls were never-ending indeed. Or maybe he was lost and lost with the adrenaline of the moment of trying to save his friend's life. He was not quite so sure anymore.
Legolas finally found himself at Eleniel's chamber for which were surrounded by her closest friends. He was quickly ushered past the large oak doors and laid the fading elleth on the large four-poster bed. Arwen and Tauriel were immediately at the girl's side. Tearing away bloodied and stained pieces of her tunic as quickly as possible, Tauriel gave a gasp. Arwen seemed to be lost in thought and gave no sign of emotion. Though from what Legolas could see, he was sure he could not unsee. Eleniel continued to lay unconscious on her bed, half-dressed and covered in blood. Her toned abdomen, though slender, had been riddled with bruising. Some of the bruising was beginning to wrap around her back. There were large gashes leading up to her chest that were still covered by the fabric of her tunic but gave the appearance of never-ending and oozing with fresh blood. Her face, once turned towards the burning candlelight, was just as ecchymotic. Legolas came to sit beside Eleniel on the bed, pulling her bruised body into his lap yet careful not to hinder Arwen's healing process. He felt responsible. He had left her in the corridor to fend for herself. And not for the first time today did he question his own actions. Telegalad and Sidhion entered the room followed by those of Rivendell. Gasps escaped each of them. Not one prince was able to keep their composure at the sight of Eleniel's exposed skin.
The room had been filled with soldiers. Soldiers of different seasons and skills. Each one undone by the sight of a beloved friend. They each were not unaccustomed to war or battle wounds. Each carrying quite a few themselves. Perhaps it was the shock or the overwhelming emotional attachment they had to acknowledge while drinking in the appearance of a broken Eleniel. Again, Eleniel's relationship with the Greenwood princes was no secret. She was quite special to them individually. To the Rivendell family, Arwen had been an older sister to her, and her brothers were just as equally family. And though Eleniel and Tauriel had not been royalty by blood or birth, they were treated as such by their peers and comrades.
"Elrohir, menna an Adar." Arwen's calm, a gentle voice broke the uneasy silence. The room turned to Arwen as she worked to remove the rest of Eleniel's clothing. She threw the boys all a look but continued her work. Tauriel slowly, uneasily, joined in to help loosen some of the fabric. As Arwen attempted to remove the rest of the tunic, Eleniel gave a loud scream and torsed her body away from the warm touch of the princess. As Legolas held onto Eleniel's twisting form, he soothed her gently while whispering and cradling her. Arwen, ever patient in her healing, waited for Eleniel to stop moving before attempting to remove the rest of the garment. As Arwen worked at the tunic again, Eleniel gave another painful cry and made to roll away from her touch. Legolas grasped Eleniel firmly into a hug, trapping her arms so she could not easily wriggle free. The advantage of Eleniel's movements however gave Arwen an opportunity to view Eleniel's back. This too had been riddled in bruising and bleeding open wounds. Legolas and Arwen exchanged exasperated looks. The bleeding was going to be difficult to control.
"You need to speak with Ada." Legolas growled angrily to his eldest brother. The princes of Mirkwood stood in the doorway, watching in horror. Legolas, as the youngest, was not known for angst emotion or heated temperaments. Today, he had been filled with both. At being addressed so angrily by his youngest brother, Telegalad looked away from the sight of Eleniel and made to turn in the doorway. "Telegalad, look at her!"
"I am looking!"
"Then do something!" Legolas yelled from his position cradling Eleniel. "He did this to her!"
"Legolas, you have no proof…" Telegalad whispered, his face forlorn with the truth. There was no proof Thaurdaer did this. There was never any proof. "It is a high price to pay if you are wrong, little brother."
"Not for the first time do I say this today, this conversation borders heresy! Lord Thaurdaer is father's general, and you accuse him of literally torturing his only daughter! I'm not quite sure you are even hearing yourself Legolas!" Sidhion interjected from the doorway, a step behind his eldest brother. "Amidst the summer's celebration you aim to start an internal war within the palace! And it is not one you will win."
"So we are to just sit here. Sit here and allow Eleniel to be treated like this?!" Legolas cried out. Had he not been holding Eleniel down, he would have been at his brother's throat. Not for the first time, today had he been at the cusp of losing her temper.
"Treated how?" Sidhion stepped into the doorway, arms crossed, seemingly dismissive. "What crime has been committed? You have no notion if this was self-inflicted. Eleniel was to be exiled, perhaps she thought of an easier solution."
"Self-inflicted?!" The room had an echo. Four other voices raised the same response to an outlandish statement. Sidhion began to shrink away from the door.
"What are you insinuating, Sidhion?"
Eleniel's breathing became rapid and restless. There seemed to be no rhythm to her breathing and her heart, he could hear, sounded as if it would beat itself out of her chest. Legolas was torn in his attention. He held Eleniel tighter, afraid if he would let go, he'd do worse to his brother or lose her entirely.
"Simply that there is no explanation of Eleniel's ill state."
"Ill-state?"
"Legolas, thuia." Tauriel whispered, a tear slipping away. Legolas turned sharply to the auburn-haired elleth. His companion, much like Eleniel. Her eyes glistened with the building tension of the room. Tauriel's hair fell away from its normally neat braids, sweeping into her face. Her hands were bloodied, and her face was tired. If was not even midafternoon, and they were all emotionally and physically spent. "Shall I get the King?"
"There is no need, young Tauriel. I am right here."
The room grew still and silent with the ever-accumulating tension. The archway to Eleniel's bed-chamber was becoming quite crowded. Where Telegalad and Sidhion stood joined two new figures, one holy unsuspected. Elrohir had gone for their father, Lord Elrond, who was also a renowned healer in their realm. Accompanying the Lord of Rivendell had been King Thranduil. Low mutters were given to acknowledge the King while some averted their glances. The room split in two, allowing for their passage to Eleniel's bedside. Lord Elrond's skill in healing was legendary, and a gift to be given should it be needed. Lord Elrond smiled at his daughter as he moved to Eleniel's side. He listened carefully as Arwen described in detail the extent of Eleniel's injuries. Her voice remained smooth and calm, a sign of her own experience and teachings from her father. King Thranduil took a stance behind his youngest son. He had considered Legolas' position for a moment, curiously regarding the room. Moving slowly into the room, Thranduil placed a steady hand on Legolas' shoulder but said nothing. The room remained silent as Elrond and Arwen worked. It was several long minutes before Lord Elrond finished his assessment of the elleth.
"She will be fine in a few days," said Lord Elrond softly. "But she is not fit to fight. These gashes were made by a rose-vine whip. Dipped in a liquid that will allow the wound to bleed. The bruising was done more sinisterly."
The grip on Legolas' shoulder suddenly became quite tight. Legolas did not wince. He did not need to look at his father to feel the emotion emanating from the King. Despite today's events, Eleniel had been like a daughter to the King. Alongside Legolas, she had received tutelage from King Thranduil and had been permitted entrance into the army. Her progress there had been her own and her efforts earned her favor with the King. "Legolas, ias lehir he?" The King spoke softly, kindly to his son.
"…Ias le lefn he."
Where you left her. It echoed in deafening silence. He hadn't meant to say it in such a way, but how could he not? A rose vine whip… Legolas was quite familiar with such objects. It wasn't beneath his father to keep prisoners nor torment them for information. Actually, the use of whips had been a suggestion given to the King several hundred years ago by Lord Thaurdaer. The grip on Legolas' shoulder tightened even more. Legolas, still holding tightly onto Eleniel, turned to look up at his father. What he found, sent a shock through his own body. Thranduil's face was forlorn, sad, and pain-stricken. In the matching glacier-blue eyes, Legolas noted a hint of something else. Fear? Perhaps.
"Ada?"
"Telegalad," Thranduil called out to his eldest, not looking behind him. "Oversee the festivities for tonight. The festival will continue as planned. Announce a new champion in Eleniel's place for the Greenwood."
"Yes, Ada." Telegalad bowed and left the room.
"Sidhion," Thranduil next addressed. "May I remind you, while your tenacious attitude is perhaps warranted, it is unfriendly and unfitting of a prince. Eleniel is a friend, we do not treat our friends as enemies."
"Father, I did not-"
"I had heard enough, ion-nin. Lord Elrond and I stood in the doorway long enough. Those defenseless should not be berated. You're dismissed."
A look of disgust crossed Sidhion's face. He quietly bowed before leaving, not offering another word. The tension seemed to grow with his leaving. The King's address to his sons was public, something he did not often do, nor so sternly. By that time, Elrond had dressed and covered most of Eleniel's wounds. Her breathing had eased, and Legolas could feel her body relax and her heart beat slowly. His own tension seemed to lessen with his assessment. Lost in thought while doing so, he could hear a light chuckle from the two elder elves in the room. He looked up to see Lord Elrond's smirk and his father amusingly shaking his head.
"Did I miss something?" Legolas asked, looking from one lord to the next.
"Young Laeg las, you may let go now." Lord Elrond answered amusingly. Even Arwen seemed to give a slight smile. "You may lay her down. She will wake, I promise. But she will need her rest."
"Let go, Legolas. Let Elrond's magic do its work."
He was reluctant. In honesty, he had forgotten he was holding the young elleth so tightly. Eleniel lay in his lap, cradled in his strong arms. Her chest and stomach were bound by cloth bandages, and the smell of salve filled the air around them. He had been so consumed in worry and thought, he had not noticed Eleniel's wounds were dressed, and the gore nearly cleansed away. Perhaps that was why they were all amused. Legolas looked down at his beloved friend. He couldn't remember now, Eleniel was perhaps two hundred or so years younger than himself. Her chocolate silk hair flowed unchecked now, spread out beneath her. Her face was always kind, but there was a beauty there that Legolas had always loved. Her complexion was soft and simple, nearly perfect. He wished she would open her eyes once. Grey storms that matched such a volatile soul. Though kind, Eleniel had plenty of secrets. They all did. Legolas laid her head against the silk of the pillows, slowly slipping his hands away. They were bloodied and sore. He looked down at the red mess. He felt like a new soldier, experiencing war all over again. Except for this time, the fight was in his home. And that knowledge alone was quite unsettling.
Thranduil took his youngest son's hands and regarded them. "This is what it means to love. Remember this as a powerful lesson, ion-nin."
Translations:
Ion-nin: my son
menna an Adar: Send for father
ias lehir he: where did you find her?
Ias le lefn he: Where you left her
A/N: Hi everyone! Slowly in progress but getting there! I've reread this chapter so many times, changed it so many times. I finally liked it enough to post it. I apologize for such the long delay in chapter, but, life. Read & enjoy!