Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of the characters. No profit is made
from these stories, they are merely for the enjoyment of myself and anyone
who cares to read them.
A Walk Out Of Reach
Chapter Four
Aragorn followed close behind Nimrothuniel. His eyes diligently searched the forest floor for Legolas' tracks. They were hard to find for elves were light creatures who left little sign of their passing. He found himself relying heavily on the elf's horse to guide him. He was jolted back to awareness as his horse suddenly stopped. Looking up he chided himself for letting his attention wander. Legolas' horse had come to a stop in front of him and stood nervously, ears twitching. Aragorn surveyed his surroundings but spotted nothing unusual.
The forest was dense here and the shadows deep. The only light that filtered through the trees was from soft light of the rising moon. The ranger swung his leg over his horse and quietly slid to the ground. He took the reigns of both horses and directed them behind a group of trees. He spoke in a soft whisper while stroking the elf's horse "Is your master close my friend?" The horse butted it's head gently against his nickered softly.
Hearing a sound the ranger turned his head sharply. Orcs! Their crude voices were headed in his direction. He turned back to the nervous horses and spoke in a low tone, "Go. Stay out of sight until I call for you." Both horses flicked their tails and quickly strode out of sight. He was not worried for them. They would find safety.
He turned his attention back to himself. He needed to get out of sight for the goblins were drawing near. Deciding quickly the ranger scrambled up the nearest tree. He continued to climb until the thick foliage of the tree hid him from sight.
The orcs were now right beneath him. He could hear their black speech quite clearly. Squinting, he tried to see them through the dense foilage. Finally, his eyes rested on the back of one foul creatures. He could hear it speak in a course voice, "He came this way I tell you." The other orcs grunted and cursed in their foul language arguing amongst themselves.
Finally another orc spoke. The ranger could not see this one but he could hear it. "Idiot! Duglek's group is but a short distance ahead. Had he passed this way he would have been seen!"
There was more arguing amongst the voices when Aragorn heard yet another cry with outrage, "I'm tired! I care not for some stupid elf! Even now he probably lies dead, his sightless eyes staring at emptiness for I saw my arrow pierce his side. He could not have survived the poison I used on it's tip." There were grunts of agreement as they moved off, disappearing in the darkness.
Aragorn was frozen in shock. The feeling of fear that had steadily built in his heart now threatened to burst through his chest. A choking knot of despair filled his mind and a yellow haze drifted in front of his eyes. No! He could not believe that Legolas was dead! He would not! True he may be injured, but his friend was too strong to give in to darkness so easily. Aragorn shook his head refusing to think any more dark thoughts. Slowly his heart resumed it's steady beat and his vision returned. With visible effort he slowed his breathing and gained control of his body once more.
Lost in thought the ranger clung to the branches with white knuckles. Suddenly he felt wetness on his cheek. He brushed at it absently with the back of his hand his mind turned inward. When he felt it a second time he glanced up at the sky thinking it had started to rain. No clouds dimmed the brightness of the stars.
Puzzled, Aragorn brought his hand up to inspect the wetness. Before he was able to do so another drop landed on his forehead. This time he touched it with his fingertips and looked at them closely. Not sure of what he was seeing he rubbed his fingers together and held them under his nose. His eyes widened with disbelief. Elven blood!
It took him a moment to realize what this meant, so great was his surprise. He snapped his eyes upwards frantically searching the canopy. He could not see anything but that did not still the hope flaring in his heart. He raced upwards as quickly as he could, mindful of every step. His eyes strained for a familiar form in the thick branches. Finally he made out a faint glow through the leaves.
Quickening his pace as fast as he dared the ranger headed straight for it. He gave an involuntary gasp when at last he spotted Legolas. He was cradled in the branches of a tree a faint light emanating from his form. Reaching his friend's side Aragorn drank in Legolas presence as his heart hammered loudly in his chest. The closed eyes of his friend startled him for a moment and he was deathly still and way too pale. Reluctantly he reached out with trembling fingers to touch the side of Legolas' neck. He found a pulse but it was dangerously fast and thready. The ranger let out the breath he did not even realize he'd been holding. His friend was alive!
He settled himself as best he could in the tree next to his friend and examined the elven prince more closely. A sheen of sweat beaded his brow. Aragorn took note of the elf's weapons tucked safely at his side. Moving them aside he turned back to his friend and touched the back of his hand to the elf's cheek. It was hot. Frowning, he cradled Legolas' face between his palms and was dismayed to find the elf was running a dangerously high fever. His frown deepened when Legolas did not stir at his touch.
With the utmost care he continued his examination of the prince. He gently ran his hands over the elf's body searching for injuries. He had many small cuts and scrapes but what concerned him most was the wetness his fingers encountered at his side.
Aragorn lifted Legolas' tunic to get a better look at the injury. The hastily applied bandage was thoroughly soaked through with blood and was dripping down the elf's side into the darkness below. The amount of blood escaping from the wound signaled its seriousness. If he did not stop it soon the fate of his friend would be sealed.
Hurriedly he tugged off the bandage and leaned in closer to inspect the wound. It was jagged and the edges were tainted with the remnants of a black poison. Aragorn berated himself under his breath. His worry for his friend had caused a lapse in common sense. He had left his pack of medicines safely tucked away at the side of his horse! With nothing else at hand he grabbed the edge of his cloak and tore several strips of cloth from the bottom. From the looks of the previous bandage the prince had done the same. He cleaned the wound as best he could and held a strip of cloth to the injury. He pressed his hand firmly against it until the bleeding slowed. A soft moan escaped the elf at the pressure and his eyelids flickered.
Aragorn continued to apply pressure with one hand while gently moving sweat soaked strands of hair away from the elf's face with the other. He bent over the prince and spoke quietly, "Shhh. You are safe Legolas." The elf turned his head towards the familiar voice and quieted immediately. When the bleeding stopped he applied a clean bandage and secured it around the elf's midsection.
When he was done he leaned back and looked at his friend. He had known Legolas most of his life and the tie of brotherhood was strong. Rarely had he seen the warrior so helpless. He could not bear to think what would happen should he lose his friend. King Thranduil's heart would surely not be able to withstand the heartbreak of losing his son. For that matter all of Mirkwood would mourn for Legolas was much loved by his people as well as by many in Rivendell, his father and brothers included. A shudder ran through him at the thought of Legolas dying.
He would not think of it any longer. Shaking off the dark thoughts in his mind he rested his fingers at the side of the elf's neck and sighed in relief. His pulse had slowed considerably. Feeling the immediate danger had passed Aragorn surveyed their surroundings. He had to get Legolas on the ground so he could treat him properly. His eyes sought a safe route through the tangled branches to the ground below. When he felt satisfied he had found one he turned to his friend and spoke in his ear again, "I am sorry to cause you more pain, my friend but it is necessary, for there is no other way."
The ranger took a deep breath. He would need both hands to climb down and the only way to carry Legolas was over his shoulder. He feared the pressure placed on the wound would cause further injury to the already weakened warrior. He shook his head, no other choice was before him. He best do this as quickly as possible.
Aragorn secured Legolas' weapons on his back then steadied himself in the branches as he prepared to lift the prince over his shoulder. As he gently grasped Legolas' arm to lift him up the sound of black speech stopped him in his tracks. The voices were directly below. He quietly hunkered down next to Legolas and lay his arm gently back over his chest then listened intently.
A Walk Out Of Reach
Chapter Four
Aragorn followed close behind Nimrothuniel. His eyes diligently searched the forest floor for Legolas' tracks. They were hard to find for elves were light creatures who left little sign of their passing. He found himself relying heavily on the elf's horse to guide him. He was jolted back to awareness as his horse suddenly stopped. Looking up he chided himself for letting his attention wander. Legolas' horse had come to a stop in front of him and stood nervously, ears twitching. Aragorn surveyed his surroundings but spotted nothing unusual.
The forest was dense here and the shadows deep. The only light that filtered through the trees was from soft light of the rising moon. The ranger swung his leg over his horse and quietly slid to the ground. He took the reigns of both horses and directed them behind a group of trees. He spoke in a soft whisper while stroking the elf's horse "Is your master close my friend?" The horse butted it's head gently against his nickered softly.
Hearing a sound the ranger turned his head sharply. Orcs! Their crude voices were headed in his direction. He turned back to the nervous horses and spoke in a low tone, "Go. Stay out of sight until I call for you." Both horses flicked their tails and quickly strode out of sight. He was not worried for them. They would find safety.
He turned his attention back to himself. He needed to get out of sight for the goblins were drawing near. Deciding quickly the ranger scrambled up the nearest tree. He continued to climb until the thick foliage of the tree hid him from sight.
The orcs were now right beneath him. He could hear their black speech quite clearly. Squinting, he tried to see them through the dense foilage. Finally, his eyes rested on the back of one foul creatures. He could hear it speak in a course voice, "He came this way I tell you." The other orcs grunted and cursed in their foul language arguing amongst themselves.
Finally another orc spoke. The ranger could not see this one but he could hear it. "Idiot! Duglek's group is but a short distance ahead. Had he passed this way he would have been seen!"
There was more arguing amongst the voices when Aragorn heard yet another cry with outrage, "I'm tired! I care not for some stupid elf! Even now he probably lies dead, his sightless eyes staring at emptiness for I saw my arrow pierce his side. He could not have survived the poison I used on it's tip." There were grunts of agreement as they moved off, disappearing in the darkness.
Aragorn was frozen in shock. The feeling of fear that had steadily built in his heart now threatened to burst through his chest. A choking knot of despair filled his mind and a yellow haze drifted in front of his eyes. No! He could not believe that Legolas was dead! He would not! True he may be injured, but his friend was too strong to give in to darkness so easily. Aragorn shook his head refusing to think any more dark thoughts. Slowly his heart resumed it's steady beat and his vision returned. With visible effort he slowed his breathing and gained control of his body once more.
Lost in thought the ranger clung to the branches with white knuckles. Suddenly he felt wetness on his cheek. He brushed at it absently with the back of his hand his mind turned inward. When he felt it a second time he glanced up at the sky thinking it had started to rain. No clouds dimmed the brightness of the stars.
Puzzled, Aragorn brought his hand up to inspect the wetness. Before he was able to do so another drop landed on his forehead. This time he touched it with his fingertips and looked at them closely. Not sure of what he was seeing he rubbed his fingers together and held them under his nose. His eyes widened with disbelief. Elven blood!
It took him a moment to realize what this meant, so great was his surprise. He snapped his eyes upwards frantically searching the canopy. He could not see anything but that did not still the hope flaring in his heart. He raced upwards as quickly as he could, mindful of every step. His eyes strained for a familiar form in the thick branches. Finally he made out a faint glow through the leaves.
Quickening his pace as fast as he dared the ranger headed straight for it. He gave an involuntary gasp when at last he spotted Legolas. He was cradled in the branches of a tree a faint light emanating from his form. Reaching his friend's side Aragorn drank in Legolas presence as his heart hammered loudly in his chest. The closed eyes of his friend startled him for a moment and he was deathly still and way too pale. Reluctantly he reached out with trembling fingers to touch the side of Legolas' neck. He found a pulse but it was dangerously fast and thready. The ranger let out the breath he did not even realize he'd been holding. His friend was alive!
He settled himself as best he could in the tree next to his friend and examined the elven prince more closely. A sheen of sweat beaded his brow. Aragorn took note of the elf's weapons tucked safely at his side. Moving them aside he turned back to his friend and touched the back of his hand to the elf's cheek. It was hot. Frowning, he cradled Legolas' face between his palms and was dismayed to find the elf was running a dangerously high fever. His frown deepened when Legolas did not stir at his touch.
With the utmost care he continued his examination of the prince. He gently ran his hands over the elf's body searching for injuries. He had many small cuts and scrapes but what concerned him most was the wetness his fingers encountered at his side.
Aragorn lifted Legolas' tunic to get a better look at the injury. The hastily applied bandage was thoroughly soaked through with blood and was dripping down the elf's side into the darkness below. The amount of blood escaping from the wound signaled its seriousness. If he did not stop it soon the fate of his friend would be sealed.
Hurriedly he tugged off the bandage and leaned in closer to inspect the wound. It was jagged and the edges were tainted with the remnants of a black poison. Aragorn berated himself under his breath. His worry for his friend had caused a lapse in common sense. He had left his pack of medicines safely tucked away at the side of his horse! With nothing else at hand he grabbed the edge of his cloak and tore several strips of cloth from the bottom. From the looks of the previous bandage the prince had done the same. He cleaned the wound as best he could and held a strip of cloth to the injury. He pressed his hand firmly against it until the bleeding slowed. A soft moan escaped the elf at the pressure and his eyelids flickered.
Aragorn continued to apply pressure with one hand while gently moving sweat soaked strands of hair away from the elf's face with the other. He bent over the prince and spoke quietly, "Shhh. You are safe Legolas." The elf turned his head towards the familiar voice and quieted immediately. When the bleeding stopped he applied a clean bandage and secured it around the elf's midsection.
When he was done he leaned back and looked at his friend. He had known Legolas most of his life and the tie of brotherhood was strong. Rarely had he seen the warrior so helpless. He could not bear to think what would happen should he lose his friend. King Thranduil's heart would surely not be able to withstand the heartbreak of losing his son. For that matter all of Mirkwood would mourn for Legolas was much loved by his people as well as by many in Rivendell, his father and brothers included. A shudder ran through him at the thought of Legolas dying.
He would not think of it any longer. Shaking off the dark thoughts in his mind he rested his fingers at the side of the elf's neck and sighed in relief. His pulse had slowed considerably. Feeling the immediate danger had passed Aragorn surveyed their surroundings. He had to get Legolas on the ground so he could treat him properly. His eyes sought a safe route through the tangled branches to the ground below. When he felt satisfied he had found one he turned to his friend and spoke in his ear again, "I am sorry to cause you more pain, my friend but it is necessary, for there is no other way."
The ranger took a deep breath. He would need both hands to climb down and the only way to carry Legolas was over his shoulder. He feared the pressure placed on the wound would cause further injury to the already weakened warrior. He shook his head, no other choice was before him. He best do this as quickly as possible.
Aragorn secured Legolas' weapons on his back then steadied himself in the branches as he prepared to lift the prince over his shoulder. As he gently grasped Legolas' arm to lift him up the sound of black speech stopped him in his tracks. The voices were directly below. He quietly hunkered down next to Legolas and lay his arm gently back over his chest then listened intently.
