Chapter Three
Elrond looked out over the garden that graced the courtyard. It was just before lunch, and it had begun to rain quite hard. He had tried not to think of Estel out there, getting drenched, and began to think he should have forbidden his son and Legolas from ever leaving the house. In his own defense, he admitted that they probably would have killed each other had they not had some kind of distraction, but he quickly dismissed this thought as his acute elven hearing picked up the sound of howling wolves from several leagues away. He stood rooted to the spot, momentarily frozen in place as he tried to discern from what direction the low mournful sound was coming from.
"Ada?" Elrohir spoke as he entered the room to find his father standing in utmost concentration, eyes closed. Elrond held up one hand to stop his son, and he listened for a few seconds longer.
"Wolves," he stated.
"What?" came the twins reply.
"I hear wolves, far off, near the river."
"Oh?" Elrohir failed to note the significance of this notion.
"Estel and Legolas were heading in that direction when they went for their walk this morning," replied the elf lord, turning toward his son. A look of worry graced his fair features and concern shown in his eyes.
Elrohir turned toward the door, calling to his brother as he went. The second twin appeared, and Elrohir quickly explained the situation to his brother.
"Do you wish us to go after them?"
"Nay," Elrond spoke hesitantly. He longed for the twins to immediately go out and find his foster son and the elven prince, and return them quickly to his halls. He also knew that, should nothing be amiss, his son and the prince would be upset at not having been trusted to take care of themselves.
"Are you sure, ada?"
"Nay, I am not sure. It is probably nothing. I am sure they will be fine," he said, though he did not truly believe it. The twins looked into their father's eyes and sighed.
"I guess it is a fine day to take a walk, brother. What say you to a bit of fresh air?"
"Just do not tell ada. He will be furious if he knew we went out when we should be inside, attending to our studies."
"You are right. Learning of the history of the dwarves of the Grey Mountains is so much more important than." Elrond shook his head as the twins left the room, their voices growing fainter as they headed down the hall.
"Valar, I hope they are safe enough to be angry with me when they get home," thought the elf lord.
The twins headed to a supply room and packed several leather satchels. They included medical supplies, as well as extra clothing and a few blankets. Who knew what shape they'd find Estel and Legolas in. Past experiences told them it was best to be prepared for any situation.
One pack contained food, and both took along their bows, swords, and daggers. The wolves were a very real threat, even if they were not headed in the same direction as their brother and his friend. The border patrols would be notified as well on this little journey.
The ground was too treacherous for horses, so they headed out on foot. Drawing their hoods over their heads, they headed into the forest. The path, though muddy, was easy to follow, and they saw many signs that Estel and the prince had passed this way.
The wolves howled again in the distance, causing the hairs on the back of their necks to stand up, and they picked up their pace.
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Estel stumbled and limped along the path, unbelievably tired and sore. He held his arm tightly to his chest, sure that he had dislocated his shoulder, and he did his best not to jar it. He cursed his own weakness and tried to hurry along, but it was like he moved in slow motion.
He was halfway to his destination when he sensed movement ahead and heard the light footfalls of a four legged creature. He ducked just in time into some brush at the side of the path and saw several wolves moving down the path, one of them limping. Its front legs were bloodied, and Estel could see the slash across them both that could only have come from his friend's sharp, elven knife.
The wolves passed, only pausing briefly nearby, smelling the air. Estel stepped out when he was sure they had gone, and made haste once he was back on the path. It took another fifteen minutes to reach his destination, and he gasped when he saw what lay on the ground.
First he spotted the body of a wolf blocking the path. It must have walked here on its own, but was heavily wounded. Its pack companions had finished off the deed started by the elf, and Estel gagged slightly at the sight of the wolf laid open from its throat to its chest. He skirted around the still warm, bleeding body, and entered the small cleared area where the three paths met.
Legolas lay on the ground in the mud, rolled partially on his side. The body of another wolf lay partially across him, his knife still buried in its side. His friend was literally covered in blood, though he was unsure how much belonged to the elf, and how much to the wolves. Three other wolves lay dead on the ground nearby, and he could detect no others moving anywhere around.
He rushed to his friend's side and pushed the heavy body of the dead wolf away. His eyes opened in surprise as Legolas then rolled over and tried to stand. Estel had thought his friend unconscious.
Legolas was not aware of his Estel's presence. He was still in battle mode, his only knife now clutched in his right hand. He could sense the presence of another being nearby, but his senses were so muddled by pain and the confusion brought on by loss of blood that he could not even tell it was his friend. He brought the blade around as he tried to get his feet underneath his body, but in his weakened state, Estel had an easy time stopping the move by simply grabbing his friend's wrist. Legolas gasped in pain as Estel made contact with the torn flesh of his wrist and arm, and Estel quickly released the arm.
"Estel.?" gasped out the elf as he turned to his friend. Legolas face was covered in blood, as was his clothing. Estel reached out for his friend, unsure where to grab him, as he scanned the elf's body and saw the many wounds caused by the wolves. With great relief, Legolas collapsed against Estel, his breathing ragged from pain.
Estel laid Legolas down on the ground, trying to be gentle, but causing him pain all the same. "Ah, Elbereth." he thought as he studied his friends body, and reached out to brush blood encrusted hair from his face. Legolas smiled weakly back at his friend, and closed his eyes against the pain and nausea caused by his wounds.
"Do not go to sleep, you stubborn elf! Wake and tell me you are fine.Legolas?.open your eyes, mellon nin." Estel was distraught, tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Legolas managed to open them part way in response to his friend's pleading voice.
"All right, human, I am awake," the elf replied in a voice barely above a whisper.
Estel's hands found the gaping wound at Legolas shoulder, two large bite marks and torn flesh that was hot had ragged. Legolas' tunic was ripped to reveal a large wound at his side, this one bleeding furiously, and another, deeper wound on his right arm. Estel brushed it lightly, pushing aside the torn fabric of the prince's sleeve to get a better look. Legolas eyes opened wider in alarm as this small movement caused immense pain in a wound that gaped open to show muscle and bone. Estel reached out to stroke his friend's forehead, apologizing softly in soothing elvish words for causing more pain.
Lastly the ranger looked at Legolas' left leg where the legging was torn to reveal two separate wounds, one at his heel and one on his calf. Both still seeped blood, and Estel could see muscle and tendon that ran along the bones in the back of the elf's heel. His face was covered in small scratches, and his clothing was ripped in many more places also caused by the claws and teeth of the wolves.
"My friend, you are a mess." Estel spoke softly. He smiled slightly, but his eyes were full of concern.
"As are you, my friend. How did you manage to get so dirty, human?" Legolas whispered back.
"You know me," he replied with a wry smile, then he turned serious, "my friend, your wounds are very serious." Estel looked around. This was no place to camp, he had not the supplies necessary to even build a fire, even if he could find anything that was dry enough to burn. It had begun to rain harder, though neither elf or man had really noticed this.
Estel gently removed Legolas' cloak and tore it quickly into strips of cloth that he used to bind the elf's wounds to try and slow down some of the bleeding. Legolas hissed in pain at the contact and tightness of the wrapped cloth, especially around his forearm. Estel watched as this wound continued to bleed, quickly soaking through the makeshift bandage, but he could do no more for his friend.
"I must get you home," but as the words left his mouth, he did not even know if that was something he could accomplish. Even if Legolas could walk, they would not get far. He dared not leave him even to go for help. The scent of his blood would draw the wolves back, or worse. They were far enough out from home to a place that wargs and large mountain cats traveled.
Not seeing any other way, Estel nudged his friend, who had once again closed his eyes. "Legolas, I must get you home," was all he said.
Elrond looked out over the garden that graced the courtyard. It was just before lunch, and it had begun to rain quite hard. He had tried not to think of Estel out there, getting drenched, and began to think he should have forbidden his son and Legolas from ever leaving the house. In his own defense, he admitted that they probably would have killed each other had they not had some kind of distraction, but he quickly dismissed this thought as his acute elven hearing picked up the sound of howling wolves from several leagues away. He stood rooted to the spot, momentarily frozen in place as he tried to discern from what direction the low mournful sound was coming from.
"Ada?" Elrohir spoke as he entered the room to find his father standing in utmost concentration, eyes closed. Elrond held up one hand to stop his son, and he listened for a few seconds longer.
"Wolves," he stated.
"What?" came the twins reply.
"I hear wolves, far off, near the river."
"Oh?" Elrohir failed to note the significance of this notion.
"Estel and Legolas were heading in that direction when they went for their walk this morning," replied the elf lord, turning toward his son. A look of worry graced his fair features and concern shown in his eyes.
Elrohir turned toward the door, calling to his brother as he went. The second twin appeared, and Elrohir quickly explained the situation to his brother.
"Do you wish us to go after them?"
"Nay," Elrond spoke hesitantly. He longed for the twins to immediately go out and find his foster son and the elven prince, and return them quickly to his halls. He also knew that, should nothing be amiss, his son and the prince would be upset at not having been trusted to take care of themselves.
"Are you sure, ada?"
"Nay, I am not sure. It is probably nothing. I am sure they will be fine," he said, though he did not truly believe it. The twins looked into their father's eyes and sighed.
"I guess it is a fine day to take a walk, brother. What say you to a bit of fresh air?"
"Just do not tell ada. He will be furious if he knew we went out when we should be inside, attending to our studies."
"You are right. Learning of the history of the dwarves of the Grey Mountains is so much more important than." Elrond shook his head as the twins left the room, their voices growing fainter as they headed down the hall.
"Valar, I hope they are safe enough to be angry with me when they get home," thought the elf lord.
The twins headed to a supply room and packed several leather satchels. They included medical supplies, as well as extra clothing and a few blankets. Who knew what shape they'd find Estel and Legolas in. Past experiences told them it was best to be prepared for any situation.
One pack contained food, and both took along their bows, swords, and daggers. The wolves were a very real threat, even if they were not headed in the same direction as their brother and his friend. The border patrols would be notified as well on this little journey.
The ground was too treacherous for horses, so they headed out on foot. Drawing their hoods over their heads, they headed into the forest. The path, though muddy, was easy to follow, and they saw many signs that Estel and the prince had passed this way.
The wolves howled again in the distance, causing the hairs on the back of their necks to stand up, and they picked up their pace.
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Estel stumbled and limped along the path, unbelievably tired and sore. He held his arm tightly to his chest, sure that he had dislocated his shoulder, and he did his best not to jar it. He cursed his own weakness and tried to hurry along, but it was like he moved in slow motion.
He was halfway to his destination when he sensed movement ahead and heard the light footfalls of a four legged creature. He ducked just in time into some brush at the side of the path and saw several wolves moving down the path, one of them limping. Its front legs were bloodied, and Estel could see the slash across them both that could only have come from his friend's sharp, elven knife.
The wolves passed, only pausing briefly nearby, smelling the air. Estel stepped out when he was sure they had gone, and made haste once he was back on the path. It took another fifteen minutes to reach his destination, and he gasped when he saw what lay on the ground.
First he spotted the body of a wolf blocking the path. It must have walked here on its own, but was heavily wounded. Its pack companions had finished off the deed started by the elf, and Estel gagged slightly at the sight of the wolf laid open from its throat to its chest. He skirted around the still warm, bleeding body, and entered the small cleared area where the three paths met.
Legolas lay on the ground in the mud, rolled partially on his side. The body of another wolf lay partially across him, his knife still buried in its side. His friend was literally covered in blood, though he was unsure how much belonged to the elf, and how much to the wolves. Three other wolves lay dead on the ground nearby, and he could detect no others moving anywhere around.
He rushed to his friend's side and pushed the heavy body of the dead wolf away. His eyes opened in surprise as Legolas then rolled over and tried to stand. Estel had thought his friend unconscious.
Legolas was not aware of his Estel's presence. He was still in battle mode, his only knife now clutched in his right hand. He could sense the presence of another being nearby, but his senses were so muddled by pain and the confusion brought on by loss of blood that he could not even tell it was his friend. He brought the blade around as he tried to get his feet underneath his body, but in his weakened state, Estel had an easy time stopping the move by simply grabbing his friend's wrist. Legolas gasped in pain as Estel made contact with the torn flesh of his wrist and arm, and Estel quickly released the arm.
"Estel.?" gasped out the elf as he turned to his friend. Legolas face was covered in blood, as was his clothing. Estel reached out for his friend, unsure where to grab him, as he scanned the elf's body and saw the many wounds caused by the wolves. With great relief, Legolas collapsed against Estel, his breathing ragged from pain.
Estel laid Legolas down on the ground, trying to be gentle, but causing him pain all the same. "Ah, Elbereth." he thought as he studied his friends body, and reached out to brush blood encrusted hair from his face. Legolas smiled weakly back at his friend, and closed his eyes against the pain and nausea caused by his wounds.
"Do not go to sleep, you stubborn elf! Wake and tell me you are fine.Legolas?.open your eyes, mellon nin." Estel was distraught, tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Legolas managed to open them part way in response to his friend's pleading voice.
"All right, human, I am awake," the elf replied in a voice barely above a whisper.
Estel's hands found the gaping wound at Legolas shoulder, two large bite marks and torn flesh that was hot had ragged. Legolas' tunic was ripped to reveal a large wound at his side, this one bleeding furiously, and another, deeper wound on his right arm. Estel brushed it lightly, pushing aside the torn fabric of the prince's sleeve to get a better look. Legolas eyes opened wider in alarm as this small movement caused immense pain in a wound that gaped open to show muscle and bone. Estel reached out to stroke his friend's forehead, apologizing softly in soothing elvish words for causing more pain.
Lastly the ranger looked at Legolas' left leg where the legging was torn to reveal two separate wounds, one at his heel and one on his calf. Both still seeped blood, and Estel could see muscle and tendon that ran along the bones in the back of the elf's heel. His face was covered in small scratches, and his clothing was ripped in many more places also caused by the claws and teeth of the wolves.
"My friend, you are a mess." Estel spoke softly. He smiled slightly, but his eyes were full of concern.
"As are you, my friend. How did you manage to get so dirty, human?" Legolas whispered back.
"You know me," he replied with a wry smile, then he turned serious, "my friend, your wounds are very serious." Estel looked around. This was no place to camp, he had not the supplies necessary to even build a fire, even if he could find anything that was dry enough to burn. It had begun to rain harder, though neither elf or man had really noticed this.
Estel gently removed Legolas' cloak and tore it quickly into strips of cloth that he used to bind the elf's wounds to try and slow down some of the bleeding. Legolas hissed in pain at the contact and tightness of the wrapped cloth, especially around his forearm. Estel watched as this wound continued to bleed, quickly soaking through the makeshift bandage, but he could do no more for his friend.
"I must get you home," but as the words left his mouth, he did not even know if that was something he could accomplish. Even if Legolas could walk, they would not get far. He dared not leave him even to go for help. The scent of his blood would draw the wolves back, or worse. They were far enough out from home to a place that wargs and large mountain cats traveled.
Not seeing any other way, Estel nudged his friend, who had once again closed his eyes. "Legolas, I must get you home," was all he said.