Chapter 4 - Waiting
Aragorn, off to the left, saw the troll fall. He gave a whoop of elation and shouted to Elrohir. "Did you see that? Aim for its mouth!"
Elrohir nodded. He waited until the troll nearest him roared again then swiftly shot his arrow at it. It worked. The troll tried to swallow, gave a hoarse, harsh bellow, and collapsed. The cheers of the elves enraged the remaining troll. It grabbed at Elrohir, seizing his arm, but seemed to be moving slowly. The hillside was becoming clearer now. Elladan, with a glance at the sky, yelled: "Elrohir, get away from it! Now!"
Elrohir, suddenly understanding, gave a desperate twist and broke free, leaving half his sleeve in the troll's grasp. The first rays of the rising sun filtered across the hillside. The troll gave a bellow of rage and fury that abruptly broke off.
In the growing light the elves could see it, one arm reaching out for Elrohir, a shred of his sleeve forever locked in its grip. "That was close" gasped Elrohir. "Thanks for the warning!" He looked around the hillside, at the three trolls they had fought, all dead. He continued brightly: "I think we can say this was quite successful. Two dead, one stone. I wonder where the other two are?"
"Not quite so successful" said Elladan sombrely. "Linhir's dead." He was kneeling by the elf who had been hit by the troll's club. He lay where he had fallen. The club had hit the top of his head, shattering the skull. In sorrow they gathered round as the sun rose on the scene. The two dead trolls had turned to stone, either as they died or as the sun reached them, and there were now three new rocks on the hillside.
Elladan got to his feet. "It's time we went back. I'll take Linhir." He moved across to Mithrond.
"It would have been a lot worse if Legolas hadn't realised how to kill them," said Elrohir. "Well done." He paused, looking around. "Where is he?"
Aragorn looked round sharply. There was no sign of Legolas, either among those standing by Linhir, or with the elves inspecting the fallen trolls. "Where is he?" he asked, his voice sharpened by anxiety.
"He was standing by the first troll we killed. I saw him jump out of the way! It couldn't have fallen on him, could it?" Unable to believe the sudden turn of events, the three looked at each other, baffled. "Spread out. Search," ordered Elladan tersely.
"Over here!" called Raffael. He was looking by the bushes just behind them. Legolas lay motionless where the blow from the club had knocked him, crumpled limply beneath the tree. Elladan and Elrohir moved him carefully onto the grass. Aragorn bent over them. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure," said Elrohir. "It looks like the other troll got him, I don't know if it was a fist or its club."
Aragorn, remembering Linhir, whispered "Is he alive?"
Just then there was a commotion behind them. A group of elves from Imladris, lead by Elrond, had come to check on their progress. "Thank the Valar. Father! Over here!" called Elrohir. As Elrond approached, Aragorn moved aside to give him room.
Elladan had gently felt for a pulse, dreading what he might find. He gave a sigh of relief, coupled with surprise. "He's alive."
Elrond knelt beside his sons. Legolas had a long cut running vertically from his hairline to the corner of his eye, an area of crushed and bloodied flesh on his forehead, and a darkening bruise covering half his face. There was no flicker of consciousness, and his face, always pale, was ashen. Elrond looked down at him. "Oh, elfling, what have you done this time?" he murmured softly. He ran deft, probing fingers over Legolas' head, feeling carefully for any damage to the skull. Then he gently lifted each eyelid, looking at the pupils.
"Father?" Elrond looked up at his sons, not sure which of the three had spoken.
"What happened?" he asked simply, his face strained.
Elladan and Elrohir explained what they knew, with Aragorn adding what he had seen. "Father? Will he be all right?" Elrond stood up wearily and sighed.
"I don't know. Let's get back to Imladris."
They rode back slowly. Three of the trolls were dead, but two of their own had fallen. One was dead, and the other – no one knew yet.
Slowly, sadly, the hunting party rode back to Imladris. The euphoria they had felt at the defeat of the trolls had completely disappeared, and the mood was subdued. Aragorn rode beside Elrond, questioning him about Legolas' injury. Behind them were Elladan and Elrohir, their normal high spirits quenched.
As they rode through the archway into the courtyard at Imladris, Arwen was waiting to greet them. She looked pale and strained. Her eyes flicked over the group, some of the tension visibly leaving her as she saw Aragorn, her father, her brothers. She came down the steps and stopped by Elrond. "Father, the messengers said someone had been killed! What happened?" Then, behind him, she saw her brothers more clearly. Elladan held Legolas in front of him, carefully supporting him against his chest. Arwen's eyes widened in dismay. "Oh no - Elladan, what happened?" she whispered. Then she saw Elrohir's burden. "Linhir too?"
Aragorn swung off Duathnir and moved to her side, reaching up to help Elladan move Legolas. "I'm sorry, Linhir's dead. One of the trolls got him. But Legolas is going to be all right, I'm sure your father can do something." He sounded optimistic, wanting to reassure Arwen, but in truth was desperately worried. He had seen the concern on Elrond's face. And if the elf Lord was so uncertain, what were Legolas' chances?
Aragorn trailed behind Elladan as they made their way to Legolas' room. Arwen and Elrohir remained to deal with Linhir.
In Legolas' chamber, Elladan carefully placed him on the bed. Then he and Aragorn stood back to give their father room. Elrond again ran his long, sensitive fingers over Legolas' head, probing gently, feeling for any swelling or depression, any ridge which could indicate a fracture. At last he straightened, and gave a sigh of relief. "Well, there's no damage that I can feel. But this" - he indicated the long, jagged gash - "will need to be stitched."
Aragorn watched, fascinated, as Elrond carefully stitched along the wound, drawing the skin on either side of the gaping cut together. When he had finished, a line of fine stitches ran vertically down Legolas' forehead, but the wide gash was now only a long, narrow cut. Elrond stood back. "That should heal now, without a scar. It could have been a lot worse. He must have a very thick skull."
"I've been saying that for years." muttered Elladan, not quite under his breath. Aragorn, despite his concern, gave a short laugh, which he changed into a cough when Elrond glared at them both.
"I want one of you to stay here. I don't think he'll wake up yet, but if he does, call me."
"Yes, father" murmured Aragorn. When Elrond had gone, he gazed down at Legolas. It seemed strange to see him so pale and still, the spark of life and joy missing. The day dragged. Elladan disappeared after a while, leaving Aragorn alone. He read, paced, and sat by the bed telling Legolas how the other two trolls had been killed.
At one stage it looked like Legolas was rousing. He stirred slightly, eyes flickering, and murmured something which Aragorn did not catch. But after a while he subsided, and silence fell again. Aragorn, sitting by the window, looked up in relief as, towards evening, Elrond returned with Elrohir.
"Is there no change?" Aragorn shook his head.
"Nothing. I thought he was going to wake up, but ..." he trailed off. "Father, is he going to be all right?"
Elrond gave them both a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, just give it time. He'll be fine." The three sat, talking softly, as outside darkness fell.
For Legolas, return to consciousness was a slow, painful business. Stray thoughts and sensory impressions flickered like fireflies, but when he tried to hold on to them, they slipped from his grasp like a handful of sand. The more he tried, the harder it was, everything seeming more and more elusive. Legolas struggled to make some sense of his confused thoughts, but the effort was too great. It hurt even to think. Eventually they faded away completely, and he sank into oblivion again.
Some indeterminable time later he drifted toward the light again. The fleeting thoughts and feelings returned, as ephemeral as a will-o-the-wisp. With an immense effort he was able to hold on to some of the impressions, and gradually made some order out of the chaos.
He was indoors, lying on a soft bed. A breath of cool air carried scents of trees, water and damp earth to him. Imladris. There were others in the room, one very close to him. There was sharp, stabbing pain across his head, and a duller ache throughout his body. There was a quiet voice calling him.
"Come, elfling. I know you're awake."
Elfling? Only three people ever called him that. He considered the possibilities. His father, Glorfindel, or:
"Elrond?" He realised he had made no sound. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. Cool water trickled into his mouth, and he licked it gratefully. He tried again. "Elrond?" His voice was a faint, breathy whisper.
Legolas struggled to open his eyes, but the lids felt leaden. Finally he succeeded, but his vision was blurred, and he could only see out of one eye. The other was glued shut. He felt a momentary panic, but the figure next to him – Elrond? – wiped away the encrusted blood until he could open both eyes, although his right eye would still not open fully. It felt swollen, and ached incessantly. Slowly he blinked the room into focus. It was dark outside, and he could see two figures by the windows. Elrond was standing over the bed, looking down in concern.
"Can you tell me what happened?" It was his standard question when assessing any head injury.
Legolas frowned, and closed his eyes again, trying to remember. The slight movement sent a sharp pain across his forehead. He raised his hand to it, and felt a raw tender area, and a long gash that ran to his eye, criss-crossed by a line of stitches. He was unaware that as his silence lengthened Elrond's look of concern deepened, and across the room, Elrohir and Aragorn exchanged worried glances.
"The trolls," he said at last. "We fought them. I killed one, I think. After that…" he stopped, unable to recall anything else. He shook his head, grimacing as the movement sent a blinding pain shooting through his head. "I'm not sure." Suddenly he looked up at Elrond. "Linhir. I saw him go down. Is he all right?"
Elrond sighed. He had hoped Legolas wouldn't remember that particular detail. "No. He's dead. I think you were very lucky. How do you feel?"
"As if Durin himself had used my head for his anvil."
Across the room he could hear a smothered laugh from Aragorn, who crossed to the bed. He sat down, causing a slight jolt that sent another wave of pain and nausea through Legolas, who gave a slight gasp.
Elrond smiled. "Drink this. It should help the headache." He slipped an arm around Legolas and helped him to sit up. Taking a cup, Elrond held it to his mouth. Legolas was not about to be helped to drink like a child, so he took the cup for himself. He was appalled to see his hand shaking. He steadied the cup with his other hand and managed to drink. The sweet taste of the liquid could not disguise the bitter aftertaste of the herbs. He drained it, then said: "Did you say lucky? What happened to Linhir?"
Elrond had not wanted to go into details, but could no longer avoid it. Legolas was every bit as stubborn as his father was. "The troll hit him with its club. He was killed. His – his skull was crushed."
Aragorn, from the end of the bed, said: "You killed one of the trolls. Elrohir followed your example and got another one. The last one was petrified when the sun came up. We got them, Legolas, all three."
Legolas leaned his head back against the pillows and swallowed against a sudden vertigo. The room was spinning. Whatever was in the draught Elrond had given him, it was more than a remedy for his headache.
Grey eyes looked accusingly at Elrond as darkness splintered the edges of his vision. "What..." he began, as unconsciousness claimed him again.
""Just something to help you sleep, elfling. Just something to help you sleep."
To be continued
Author's Notes: Aren't I nice? No cliffhanger (this time).
Not much action this time, but things will liven up again in the next couple of chapters. Don't forget, there's still two trolls out there somewhere!
PuterPatty: You must have had some marathon reading sessions to have caught up will all my stories so quickly! Thank you for reviewing so faithfully. I'm so glad you enjoyed the other stories as well - I love writing them!
I try hard to get relationships between characters right - friendly, affectionate, brother/sister type (not like me and my brother, we used to fight as kids!). Aragorn is a great friend, he knows just the right thing to say, doesn't he?
Treehugger: 'Cliffie Queen' - I love it! Thanks! A couple of line in that last chapter about dangers in Mirkwood were based on comments of yours - did you spot them? And yes, Legolas is still avoiding caves - but he hid it well, didn't he?
But soon there will be a cave he just can't avoid (hint, hint! Thud goes a thundering great teaser!)
IrishElf: Hope I didn't make you wait too long. I try to update weekly (work and life permitting). Glad you like cliffhangers - there are more on the way, don't worry!
YunaDax: Yes, I though trolls would make a change. It also ties in with The Hobbit.
gemstone: Oh yes, trouble! Aragorn and Legolas just can't avoid it, can they? And there's more to come!
Analorien: Thanks for your support. Glad you like it!
JastaElf: Thank you for your praise - from writers like you and Treehugger it really means something! I'm glad you like the fight with the trolls - fight and battle scenes are areas I'm not at all sure about - I'm sure I can do better than I do. As regards Elrond and Thranduil - I intend to write that story sometime, probably next - it just seems too good an opportunity to miss! Loved the update of 'Dark Leaf', and thanks for the recommendation!
ccg: Yes, Legolas does cover himself well - Aragorn never did find out about the cave thing, did he?