"My decision is final! You will return to Rivendell."
"Could I not go with you as far as Lothlórien? It would be just as safe
there." Isabelle asked Aragorn in a persuading tone.
"No Isabelle. I do not you to be with us when we attempt to climb
Caradhras. And if the way is blocked and we have to pass through Moria.it
is not a place for you."
Isabelle nodded silently. "As you wish," she said in a voice that betrayed
none of the anger she felt for her brother. She was better able to take
care of herself than the halflings!
Aragorn sighed. "You have caused much trouble. Why could you have not
remained in Rivendell?"
Isabelle smiled brightly at him in answer, and he shook his head and
laughed. "What am I to do with you?"
Legolas came up behind Aragorn and stood in silence until the man turned. "Who will escort her?" the elf asked quietly. "She cannot return by herself, the roads are being watched and orcs are everywhere." "I had not thought of it," Aragorn confessed. "We can spare no one." "I will go," Legolas stated. "You need me least of all. I can rejoin the company in Lothlórien." Aragorn nodded. "You are right, as ever, my friend. Are you sure you know what you are undertaking? My sister can be tiresome at times!"
Legolas shouldered his pack and motioned for Isabelle to do the same. They had been walking through the forest for some hours and had stopped for some lembas and water. Legolas looked up in the sky. There were only a few hours of light remaining, and with many miles remaining to the safety of Rivendell, he wanted to cover as much ground as possible. They walked in a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need for conversation. Occasionally Isabelle would glance across at the profile of the elf, and Legolas would sometimes realize that he was watching her. Once or twice their eyes met, and Isabelle would smile and look quickly away, at some trees, or a distant bird.
Two days passed uneventfully. Isabelle had found herself telling the elf of her restlessness in Rivendell, and he in turn told the girl things about himself he had never thought to tell anyone. In the days that had passed since their first meeting they had come to know each other well, and to both it seemed as though they had always known the other.
It happened when neither of them expected it. The night was drawing to a close, and the faintest tint of colour could be seen lining the eastern sky when the orcs attacked. There were not many of them - fifteen at the most, but they had the advantage of surprise. Before they had entered the area where Legolas and Isabelle had spent the night, four had fallen to the ground, with arrows protruding from their necks. Even as he fired arrows at the creatures, Legolas was shouting to Isabelle, warning her to be on her guard and to have her sword at the ready. As the orcs came closer, he slung his bow onto his back and drew one of the slender knives he kept for fighting at close range. His expression was one of distaste. He preferred to kill his enemies at a distance rather than have their breath on his face and their blood staining his hands. However the elf fought well - the need for skill with basic weapons was one that he had learnt at a young age, and he had been taught well. When he glanced over at Isabelle, she too was holding her own, and there were two fallen orcs at her feet. Legolas turned his attention back to his own fight, and swiftly dealt with the remaining creatures. As he plunged the dagger into the chest of the last orc, he heard a cry from behind me. He turned quickly, and saw that an orc had Isabelle pressed up against a tree with her sword a metre in front. He sank his blade into the orc's back and pulled it out, wiping the blood from the steel on his cloak. He pushed the body of the orc away from Isabelle and it dropped to the ground in a heap. Legolas kicked it away and took the girl by her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded, her face pale. She had a smear of blood across her forehead and Legolas wiped it away, realising as he did so that it was hers. "Are you sure you are well?" he asked again, and this time she spoke. "I am fine, thank you," she whispered. "Are you?" Legolas smiled to reassure her. "I am well. Would you like to rest here for a time, or should we continue?" Isabelle nodded at the second option. "I should like to continue, but may we stop at a stream? I would like to wash away the blood."
Isabelle stood alone in a small brook, up to her waist in cold, clear water. She was dressed, but still Legolas had withdrawn to a polite distance, murmuring something about finding some plants that were particular to this part of the woods. She was glad to be alone; she needed time to recover from the shock of the battle. She lifted her undershirt, wincing as the cloth touched the wound beneath. She had not told Legolas, but she had been injured by an orc, and on inspection, the wound proved to be serious. There was no longer any blood, but the gash was open and painful. As she washed away the dried blood, Isabelle felt faint and dizzy, and grabbed at a tree trunk in order to steady herself. As the feeling subsided, she let go, and tore a long strip of cotton from her shirt, wrapping it tightly around her waist. She drew in her breath at the pain, but at least it would prevent the cut from bleeding as much. "Isabelle, are you ready? I don't wish to rush you, but we have far to travel before nightfall." Legolas called from a distant spot amongst the trees, and Isabelle hurriedly dropped her shirt, not wishing the elf to see the bandage. She didn't want him to find out that she had been hurt, didn't want him to think that she was incapable of taking care of herself. Had she not caught up with the Fellowship by herself? She stepped out of the water gingerly as the bank was steep and slippery and unhooked her cloak from a convenient branch. As she stretched in order to pick her pack up from the ground, the wound on her side split slightly, and her hand instinctively went to the site of the pain. She was relieved to see that no blood had soaked through the makeshift dressing, but supposed that it would take a while for that to happen. Ignoring the ache of her side, she swung her pack onto her shoulder, and walked briskly to where Legolas was standing, waiting for her to catch up.
Legolas had noticed the way in which Isabelle was walking, and the way in which her hand went to her ribs at times, but did not mention anything. As they walked through the forest, she was mostly silent, answering in monosyllables to whatever Legolas said to her. The elf noticed that her face was flushed, and that she was sweating, even though the day was cool, but supposed that she was unused to such strenuous exercise, and did not mention anything to her. He often found himself forgetting that she was a mortal girl, and he thought that she couldn't have been much more than twenty years or so. "How old are you, Isabelle? It is surprising that Aragorn had never mentioned." The elf's voice trailed off, as he turned towards where she had been walking, and realised that she was no longer there. He turned around, and saw her sitting on the grass, leaning against a rock. Legolas narrowed his eyes against the sun, and gazing towards her prone figure, thought that he could see a stain of red blooming on her cloak. He ran towards her, his light feet almost flying over the ground. He fell to his knees beside her, and lifted away the girl's cloak. He cursed under his breath as he saw that the mark was indeed blood, and fresh. The elf gently lifted her shirt and unwound the bandage from her waist. He cursed once more as he saw the wound, and realised that she must have suffered it while they were fighting the orcs. Legolas touched her forehead, and drew his hand back at the warmth of it. He was almost certain that she was suffering from a fever, and was angry with himself for not having realised the fact earlier. He slid his arms underneath her and picked her up in an easy movement, which belied the slenderness of his build. After he laid her flat on the ground, he took a closer look at her injury. "Elbereth." he whispered, before standing and turning back the way they had come.
Isabelle awoke from fevered dreams in which she was chased by a faceless demon, to find that she was lying in a bower of leaves that had been twisted in order to provide shelter from the wind and rain. She tried to sit up, but cool hands on her shoulders pushed her back down. "Legolas?" she murmured softly. "Hush," he whispered. "I am here. Can you remember what happened?" "A little," she replied. "I remember being.being struck with a sword, and the stream, and then I felt dizzy.what is wrong with me, Legolas?"
Legolas closed his eyes and smiled at her. "You were dizzy from blood loss, and you have a slight fever which can't have helped matters. I need to go and find some water, will you be alright here?" "I will be fine," Isabelle told him. "Just don't be long?" Legolas nodded. "I will return as swiftly as possible. You should rest."
Once away from the clearing, Legolas allowed the mask of cheerfulness to fall from his face. He was fairly certain that Isabelle had been wounded with a poisoned orc blade. He had some ways in which he could slow down the process, but if he could not get her to someone who had healing knowledge.Legolas refused to admit that it was likely she would die, but he knew that he had to get her to either Elrond or to Aragorn as quickly as possible. Rivendell was at least ten days away yet, possibly more. He didn't know where the Fellowship were precisely, but he reasoned that to reach Lothlorien would take almost six days, and he would be sure to meet them there. However, he did not think that it would be possible for Isabelle to walk far, and as for the obstacle of Caradhras.he resolved to tackle that problem when it came. For now his main priority was to find some plants that would cause the toxins in Isabelle's body to slow in their destructiveness, so that she would have as good a chance as possible to get to her brother.
Legolas came up behind Aragorn and stood in silence until the man turned. "Who will escort her?" the elf asked quietly. "She cannot return by herself, the roads are being watched and orcs are everywhere." "I had not thought of it," Aragorn confessed. "We can spare no one." "I will go," Legolas stated. "You need me least of all. I can rejoin the company in Lothlórien." Aragorn nodded. "You are right, as ever, my friend. Are you sure you know what you are undertaking? My sister can be tiresome at times!"
Legolas shouldered his pack and motioned for Isabelle to do the same. They had been walking through the forest for some hours and had stopped for some lembas and water. Legolas looked up in the sky. There were only a few hours of light remaining, and with many miles remaining to the safety of Rivendell, he wanted to cover as much ground as possible. They walked in a comfortable silence, neither feeling the need for conversation. Occasionally Isabelle would glance across at the profile of the elf, and Legolas would sometimes realize that he was watching her. Once or twice their eyes met, and Isabelle would smile and look quickly away, at some trees, or a distant bird.
Two days passed uneventfully. Isabelle had found herself telling the elf of her restlessness in Rivendell, and he in turn told the girl things about himself he had never thought to tell anyone. In the days that had passed since their first meeting they had come to know each other well, and to both it seemed as though they had always known the other.
It happened when neither of them expected it. The night was drawing to a close, and the faintest tint of colour could be seen lining the eastern sky when the orcs attacked. There were not many of them - fifteen at the most, but they had the advantage of surprise. Before they had entered the area where Legolas and Isabelle had spent the night, four had fallen to the ground, with arrows protruding from their necks. Even as he fired arrows at the creatures, Legolas was shouting to Isabelle, warning her to be on her guard and to have her sword at the ready. As the orcs came closer, he slung his bow onto his back and drew one of the slender knives he kept for fighting at close range. His expression was one of distaste. He preferred to kill his enemies at a distance rather than have their breath on his face and their blood staining his hands. However the elf fought well - the need for skill with basic weapons was one that he had learnt at a young age, and he had been taught well. When he glanced over at Isabelle, she too was holding her own, and there were two fallen orcs at her feet. Legolas turned his attention back to his own fight, and swiftly dealt with the remaining creatures. As he plunged the dagger into the chest of the last orc, he heard a cry from behind me. He turned quickly, and saw that an orc had Isabelle pressed up against a tree with her sword a metre in front. He sank his blade into the orc's back and pulled it out, wiping the blood from the steel on his cloak. He pushed the body of the orc away from Isabelle and it dropped to the ground in a heap. Legolas kicked it away and took the girl by her shoulders. "Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded, her face pale. She had a smear of blood across her forehead and Legolas wiped it away, realising as he did so that it was hers. "Are you sure you are well?" he asked again, and this time she spoke. "I am fine, thank you," she whispered. "Are you?" Legolas smiled to reassure her. "I am well. Would you like to rest here for a time, or should we continue?" Isabelle nodded at the second option. "I should like to continue, but may we stop at a stream? I would like to wash away the blood."
Isabelle stood alone in a small brook, up to her waist in cold, clear water. She was dressed, but still Legolas had withdrawn to a polite distance, murmuring something about finding some plants that were particular to this part of the woods. She was glad to be alone; she needed time to recover from the shock of the battle. She lifted her undershirt, wincing as the cloth touched the wound beneath. She had not told Legolas, but she had been injured by an orc, and on inspection, the wound proved to be serious. There was no longer any blood, but the gash was open and painful. As she washed away the dried blood, Isabelle felt faint and dizzy, and grabbed at a tree trunk in order to steady herself. As the feeling subsided, she let go, and tore a long strip of cotton from her shirt, wrapping it tightly around her waist. She drew in her breath at the pain, but at least it would prevent the cut from bleeding as much. "Isabelle, are you ready? I don't wish to rush you, but we have far to travel before nightfall." Legolas called from a distant spot amongst the trees, and Isabelle hurriedly dropped her shirt, not wishing the elf to see the bandage. She didn't want him to find out that she had been hurt, didn't want him to think that she was incapable of taking care of herself. Had she not caught up with the Fellowship by herself? She stepped out of the water gingerly as the bank was steep and slippery and unhooked her cloak from a convenient branch. As she stretched in order to pick her pack up from the ground, the wound on her side split slightly, and her hand instinctively went to the site of the pain. She was relieved to see that no blood had soaked through the makeshift dressing, but supposed that it would take a while for that to happen. Ignoring the ache of her side, she swung her pack onto her shoulder, and walked briskly to where Legolas was standing, waiting for her to catch up.
Legolas had noticed the way in which Isabelle was walking, and the way in which her hand went to her ribs at times, but did not mention anything. As they walked through the forest, she was mostly silent, answering in monosyllables to whatever Legolas said to her. The elf noticed that her face was flushed, and that she was sweating, even though the day was cool, but supposed that she was unused to such strenuous exercise, and did not mention anything to her. He often found himself forgetting that she was a mortal girl, and he thought that she couldn't have been much more than twenty years or so. "How old are you, Isabelle? It is surprising that Aragorn had never mentioned." The elf's voice trailed off, as he turned towards where she had been walking, and realised that she was no longer there. He turned around, and saw her sitting on the grass, leaning against a rock. Legolas narrowed his eyes against the sun, and gazing towards her prone figure, thought that he could see a stain of red blooming on her cloak. He ran towards her, his light feet almost flying over the ground. He fell to his knees beside her, and lifted away the girl's cloak. He cursed under his breath as he saw that the mark was indeed blood, and fresh. The elf gently lifted her shirt and unwound the bandage from her waist. He cursed once more as he saw the wound, and realised that she must have suffered it while they were fighting the orcs. Legolas touched her forehead, and drew his hand back at the warmth of it. He was almost certain that she was suffering from a fever, and was angry with himself for not having realised the fact earlier. He slid his arms underneath her and picked her up in an easy movement, which belied the slenderness of his build. After he laid her flat on the ground, he took a closer look at her injury. "Elbereth." he whispered, before standing and turning back the way they had come.
Isabelle awoke from fevered dreams in which she was chased by a faceless demon, to find that she was lying in a bower of leaves that had been twisted in order to provide shelter from the wind and rain. She tried to sit up, but cool hands on her shoulders pushed her back down. "Legolas?" she murmured softly. "Hush," he whispered. "I am here. Can you remember what happened?" "A little," she replied. "I remember being.being struck with a sword, and the stream, and then I felt dizzy.what is wrong with me, Legolas?"
Legolas closed his eyes and smiled at her. "You were dizzy from blood loss, and you have a slight fever which can't have helped matters. I need to go and find some water, will you be alright here?" "I will be fine," Isabelle told him. "Just don't be long?" Legolas nodded. "I will return as swiftly as possible. You should rest."
Once away from the clearing, Legolas allowed the mask of cheerfulness to fall from his face. He was fairly certain that Isabelle had been wounded with a poisoned orc blade. He had some ways in which he could slow down the process, but if he could not get her to someone who had healing knowledge.Legolas refused to admit that it was likely she would die, but he knew that he had to get her to either Elrond or to Aragorn as quickly as possible. Rivendell was at least ten days away yet, possibly more. He didn't know where the Fellowship were precisely, but he reasoned that to reach Lothlorien would take almost six days, and he would be sure to meet them there. However, he did not think that it would be possible for Isabelle to walk far, and as for the obstacle of Caradhras.he resolved to tackle that problem when it came. For now his main priority was to find some plants that would cause the toxins in Isabelle's body to slow in their destructiveness, so that she would have as good a chance as possible to get to her brother.