Chapter 14: Of Healing and Showing Off
A/N: Okay, this is five freaking pages of stuff, so this is probably how long my chapters are going to be, give or take a couple words and sentences, you know. Yeah, oh, and any mistakes are typo's, because I type really fast and I'm not quite used to my flat laptop keyboard yet. I GOT A LAPTOP! Ha, it's great, I love it. I'm so frigging happy!
…
Blood swarmed down her arm from the gash that Legolas had inflicted upon her arm during her lapse of attention. The elves around them gasped and rushed inwards to aide Aila, while some ran to get healers to close the wound. Legolas stood dumbstruck for a few moments, staring at Aila, as she stared at her arm, just as surprised. After blinking a few times, Aila felt faint at the blood that rushed down her arm and the pain of the deep cut. Suddenly, she fell to the ground and put a hand to her upper arm. Blood gushed through her fingers and tears ran down her cheeks as pain riddled her body.
Legolas, coming back to reality from his daze, ran to her and held his hand also to her wound.
"Lady Aila! I apologize profusely. I had thought you would be able to block it, you were doing so perfectly. And then you were in my mind and I lashed out like you were an enemy, and oh! Aila, I am so sorry, I did not mean to, you must believe me." Through gritted teeth, Aila nodded and would have smiled, if she wasn't concentrated very hard on preventing the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She hated when she cried, feeling it was a huge sign of weakness.
Always being able to use her military bearing to prevent her emotions, the pain was too much for Aila. She had never broken any bones and had never seriously cut or scraped herself. Once she had twisted her ankle and another time she sprained her pinkie finger, but that was it. She was normally quite cautious and to feel such physical pain as this was really new to her. Usually all of her stress was in her mind, not body. It just reminded her of how weak she really was and made her cry even harder.
Legolas, a true gentleman, reached up a slender hand and wiped the tears from her cheek and put his arm around her waist, pulling her up into a standing position. Cushioning her bleeding arm into her chest, he began to walk Aila towards the infirmary of Rivendell.
Slumping into him, Aila left her sword laying on the ground, feeling as if she were going to throw-up at the sight of Legolas' bloodied sword. *That's what you get when you mess with war* Aila thought. *I wished I had an airplane so I could just bomb Sauron and get it over with.* She managed a faint smile at the picture of herself, playing taps on a portable CD player with her headphones on as she laughed demonically and dropped bombs from a B-2A Spirit "Stealth" Bomber. Oh the humanity. (A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA!)
Legolas didn't notice her faint smile as his face creased in worry. He cursed himself over and over again as he pulled her towards the elven healers, who were now running towards them, poultices and herbs in their hands as they sprinted towards the sword playing pair. Aila's smile faded again as a great wave of pain took her body. She slipped from Legolas' grasp and her opposite shoulder hit the hard ground, bruising it. The healers were only a few feet away and immediately they rolled her onto her side to address the wound.
Standing to the side, Legolas watched on as the healers cleaned the wound that he had inflicted. From the corner of his eye, he saw the worried form of Arwen sprint towards them, her beautiful face crippled in distress.
"What happened, Legolas?" Taking a deep breath, Legolas explained everything that he could, knowing that when Aila had better recovered she could explain to Arwen what had happened within their minds better than he could. She was the Mind Walker, not he. He was a warrior prince, who had just injured his good friend.
"We may have to postpone the departing of the Fellowship," said Legolas, casting a wary glance towards Aila, who lay on her back now, staring emptily at the sky.
"No!" Aila cried on hearing this. "They cannot postpone the departure. In four days, the Fellowship must leave Rivendell, with or without me, Legolas! You know better than most that it will not be safe for the Ring to stay here in Rivendell for too long! The Fellowship will leave as planned." She fought off the healers as she said this, who fervently tried to calm her down. Aila thrashed about with her legs and arm. Wincing noticeably, she forced the healers from her and stood up. Legolas noticed that her knees were wobbling quite a bit. Her eyes looked washed out and her pallor was lighter than normal.
"Aila," he commanded. "Sit back down and let the healers take care of your wound. You don't have anything to prove. I will abide your wishes and the Company will depart. Now sit, mellonim, sit." Arwen and Legolas crossed to Aila side and Legolas set Aila struggling to the ground. Arwen stroked Aila's hair and her friend calmed considerably.
"Arwen," she whispered. Raising her eyebrows, Arwen gazed down at her friend in pain, apologetically. "I beat him." A smile raised Aila's features and Legolas didn't argue with her. He had a strange feeling that in some way she had bested him, though she had become injured.
*Ai Elbereth* he thought. *It is all my fault. Why did I do this to her?* Great sorrow shuddered through his body and he felt depressed that he had injured Aila in such a manner. He resolved to himself that he owed her enough to never allow anyone to hurt her again like he had. Feeling like he had to tell her, he reached out and touched her forehead. Perspiration from her pain met his hand but he cared not.
"Aila," he whispered, and Arwen looked up at him briefly, wondering what he was about to say. "I will never let anything hurt you ever again." Aila's eyes opened briefly before she fell into unconsciousness from shock that she had because of her wound. "I promise." At a signal from the healers, Legolas picked up Aila's limp form, Arwen at his side, and carried her to Rivendell's infirmary.
…
Several hours later, Aila finally awoke from her unconsciousness. Groggily, she reached up her hands and rubbed her eyes. Darkness was enveloping her and she had no idea what room she was in or what how she got there. Suddenly, like a high tide flood, her memories came back to her of the day before. Pain, though considerably less, shot through her arm. But this time, Aila could endure the pain without flinching or anything. It was simply a slight pressure that was more than normal.
Noticing that she was slanting slightly towards the right, she turned her head and waited for her eyes to adjust catlike to the darkness. She saw someone sitting there, with long blonde hair, obviously asleep, slightly over her bed, with his head on his arms.
Reaching out a shaking hand, Aila touched the crown of Legolas' head, realizing he must have sat there for hours waiting for her to wake up, before finally giving in to sleep--unwillingly, knowing Legolas. She looked at his face and it seemed that he continued to sleep so she pushed the hair from his face and looked at him for several minutes.
*What a great friend I have.* For a moment, she wondered where Arwen was, but then realized that she must have stayed, but Legolas sent her to bed to get some sleep. *What a crazy elf,* she thought sarcastically, her envy of Legolas growing. *Thinking of everyone else's health before his.* She smiled to herself and she thought about that for a second. He truly was a great friend. Leaning back into her pillow, she turned on her side to face Legolas, laying on her unscathed arm. Pitying him, Aila knew that he blamed himself greatly for her pain and would never forgive himself.
"That doesn't matter," she whispered to him. "I forgive you." Wondering what had possessed her to say that, even though he was asleep, Aila placed her head on her uninjured arm and closed her eyes to fall asleep. Flexing her left hand, which was the injured arm, Aila lifted it slowly and placed her hand upon Legolas' arm as he slept. She breathed deeply and fell quickly to sleep, knowing that Legolas was there if she needed anything.
…
Opening his eyes against the light, Legolas cursed himself for falling asleep when he had promised Arwen that he would watch Aila all night long. He moved to stretch himself, as he was cramped from his strange position of sleep, but he felt Aila's hand on his arm and stayed his movements, looking at her hand on his arm for a few moments. The elf remained seated, allowing Aila's hand to stay there as she slept peacefully, even in the bright morning sun.
Usually, Legolas wouldn't be content to simply sit, he would have been fidgeting and uncomfortable. Now, however, he was totally at ease and comfortable, sitting placidly as he watched his injured friend sleep. He would never forgive himself for hurting her like that but somehow he felt that she had already forgiven him and that he should forgive himself. Of course, he would never forgive himself--ever. But it was nice to know that she forgave him, at least. Also, he knew Arwen didn't blame him, and neither did any of the other elves.
Leaning his head back and stretching into the back of his chair, Legolas shifted again, leaving his arm exactly where it was. Aila, however, began to stir, blinking sunlight from her large brown eyes.
"Quel amrun, mellonim," he said to her, flexing his hand as she removed hers from his arm. Though Legolas hadn't been uncomfortable, he felt strangely empty when Aila had removed her hand. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Aila said, through a yawn. She reached up her arms to stretch but quickly stopped herself and winced as she felt the pressure in her left arm. Concern clouded the elven prince's face on more time.
"Amin hiraetha," he said. I am sorry. He looked pleadingly at her to understand. Looking at him curiously, something in his eyes registered to Aila what he meant.
"Legolas, I understand. Trust me, all right? I understand and I forgive you. I only wish that you could forgive yourself, Prince." Casting his eyes downward, Legolas smiled slightly, embarrassed that she could see through him so well. He wondered exactly how much she knew about him, but he didn't feel pressured to ask. Insisting that he go get some breakfast, Aila used her good arm to shove him through the door. Legolas was reluctant to leave Aila, feeling it a weird sort of duty to make sure she was fine every waking and sleeping moment.
"Legolas," she cried, falling to her final resort, "leave so I can change my clothes!" Pleased to see him slightly embarrassed, Aila shut the door swiftly behind him and leaned back against it. Out of habit, Aila blew imaginary bangs from her forehead, a faint smile playing across her lips as she thought about her good friends in Middle Earth. "Three more days," she told herself. "Three."
…
Healing remarkably, Aila stuck out the next three days without infection or undue pain. Mostly, she stuck with Arwen in the gardens as they talked of both worlds and discussed the mission the Fellowship was about to depart on. Several times she wandered over to the archery range, sometimes just sitting as she watched the other archers, her arm not healed enough for her to take up her own bow, which she had brought back through the mirror on a brief visit to her world.
Many of the elves wondered at her compound bow, with all its wires and metallic composure. However, she was soon able to loose her own arrows and she demonstrated how her bow mechanics worked, which was so unlike their own short bows. Basically, she worked on just sending the arrow straight through the air to her chosen target. Once or twice an elf had thrown a leaf into the air, grinning sardonically, not believing that this human girl could pierce the leaf. After her first few tries, she couldn't pierce the arrows and the elves laughed. Aila, however, found nothing entertaining. Determined as always, she recalled several techniques that Legolas had taught her. Asking one more try, the elf through the leaf high into the air. Wide eyed, the rest of the elves watched as the arrow flew straight and true, piercing the leaf sideways in the center, crumpling it into a tree trunk.
A/N: Okay, this is five freaking pages of stuff, so this is probably how long my chapters are going to be, give or take a couple words and sentences, you know. Yeah, oh, and any mistakes are typo's, because I type really fast and I'm not quite used to my flat laptop keyboard yet. I GOT A LAPTOP! Ha, it's great, I love it. I'm so frigging happy!
…
Blood swarmed down her arm from the gash that Legolas had inflicted upon her arm during her lapse of attention. The elves around them gasped and rushed inwards to aide Aila, while some ran to get healers to close the wound. Legolas stood dumbstruck for a few moments, staring at Aila, as she stared at her arm, just as surprised. After blinking a few times, Aila felt faint at the blood that rushed down her arm and the pain of the deep cut. Suddenly, she fell to the ground and put a hand to her upper arm. Blood gushed through her fingers and tears ran down her cheeks as pain riddled her body.
Legolas, coming back to reality from his daze, ran to her and held his hand also to her wound.
"Lady Aila! I apologize profusely. I had thought you would be able to block it, you were doing so perfectly. And then you were in my mind and I lashed out like you were an enemy, and oh! Aila, I am so sorry, I did not mean to, you must believe me." Through gritted teeth, Aila nodded and would have smiled, if she wasn't concentrated very hard on preventing the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She hated when she cried, feeling it was a huge sign of weakness.
Always being able to use her military bearing to prevent her emotions, the pain was too much for Aila. She had never broken any bones and had never seriously cut or scraped herself. Once she had twisted her ankle and another time she sprained her pinkie finger, but that was it. She was normally quite cautious and to feel such physical pain as this was really new to her. Usually all of her stress was in her mind, not body. It just reminded her of how weak she really was and made her cry even harder.
Legolas, a true gentleman, reached up a slender hand and wiped the tears from her cheek and put his arm around her waist, pulling her up into a standing position. Cushioning her bleeding arm into her chest, he began to walk Aila towards the infirmary of Rivendell.
Slumping into him, Aila left her sword laying on the ground, feeling as if she were going to throw-up at the sight of Legolas' bloodied sword. *That's what you get when you mess with war* Aila thought. *I wished I had an airplane so I could just bomb Sauron and get it over with.* She managed a faint smile at the picture of herself, playing taps on a portable CD player with her headphones on as she laughed demonically and dropped bombs from a B-2A Spirit "Stealth" Bomber. Oh the humanity. (A/N: MWAHAHAHAHA!)
Legolas didn't notice her faint smile as his face creased in worry. He cursed himself over and over again as he pulled her towards the elven healers, who were now running towards them, poultices and herbs in their hands as they sprinted towards the sword playing pair. Aila's smile faded again as a great wave of pain took her body. She slipped from Legolas' grasp and her opposite shoulder hit the hard ground, bruising it. The healers were only a few feet away and immediately they rolled her onto her side to address the wound.
Standing to the side, Legolas watched on as the healers cleaned the wound that he had inflicted. From the corner of his eye, he saw the worried form of Arwen sprint towards them, her beautiful face crippled in distress.
"What happened, Legolas?" Taking a deep breath, Legolas explained everything that he could, knowing that when Aila had better recovered she could explain to Arwen what had happened within their minds better than he could. She was the Mind Walker, not he. He was a warrior prince, who had just injured his good friend.
"We may have to postpone the departing of the Fellowship," said Legolas, casting a wary glance towards Aila, who lay on her back now, staring emptily at the sky.
"No!" Aila cried on hearing this. "They cannot postpone the departure. In four days, the Fellowship must leave Rivendell, with or without me, Legolas! You know better than most that it will not be safe for the Ring to stay here in Rivendell for too long! The Fellowship will leave as planned." She fought off the healers as she said this, who fervently tried to calm her down. Aila thrashed about with her legs and arm. Wincing noticeably, she forced the healers from her and stood up. Legolas noticed that her knees were wobbling quite a bit. Her eyes looked washed out and her pallor was lighter than normal.
"Aila," he commanded. "Sit back down and let the healers take care of your wound. You don't have anything to prove. I will abide your wishes and the Company will depart. Now sit, mellonim, sit." Arwen and Legolas crossed to Aila side and Legolas set Aila struggling to the ground. Arwen stroked Aila's hair and her friend calmed considerably.
"Arwen," she whispered. Raising her eyebrows, Arwen gazed down at her friend in pain, apologetically. "I beat him." A smile raised Aila's features and Legolas didn't argue with her. He had a strange feeling that in some way she had bested him, though she had become injured.
*Ai Elbereth* he thought. *It is all my fault. Why did I do this to her?* Great sorrow shuddered through his body and he felt depressed that he had injured Aila in such a manner. He resolved to himself that he owed her enough to never allow anyone to hurt her again like he had. Feeling like he had to tell her, he reached out and touched her forehead. Perspiration from her pain met his hand but he cared not.
"Aila," he whispered, and Arwen looked up at him briefly, wondering what he was about to say. "I will never let anything hurt you ever again." Aila's eyes opened briefly before she fell into unconsciousness from shock that she had because of her wound. "I promise." At a signal from the healers, Legolas picked up Aila's limp form, Arwen at his side, and carried her to Rivendell's infirmary.
…
Several hours later, Aila finally awoke from her unconsciousness. Groggily, she reached up her hands and rubbed her eyes. Darkness was enveloping her and she had no idea what room she was in or what how she got there. Suddenly, like a high tide flood, her memories came back to her of the day before. Pain, though considerably less, shot through her arm. But this time, Aila could endure the pain without flinching or anything. It was simply a slight pressure that was more than normal.
Noticing that she was slanting slightly towards the right, she turned her head and waited for her eyes to adjust catlike to the darkness. She saw someone sitting there, with long blonde hair, obviously asleep, slightly over her bed, with his head on his arms.
Reaching out a shaking hand, Aila touched the crown of Legolas' head, realizing he must have sat there for hours waiting for her to wake up, before finally giving in to sleep--unwillingly, knowing Legolas. She looked at his face and it seemed that he continued to sleep so she pushed the hair from his face and looked at him for several minutes.
*What a great friend I have.* For a moment, she wondered where Arwen was, but then realized that she must have stayed, but Legolas sent her to bed to get some sleep. *What a crazy elf,* she thought sarcastically, her envy of Legolas growing. *Thinking of everyone else's health before his.* She smiled to herself and she thought about that for a second. He truly was a great friend. Leaning back into her pillow, she turned on her side to face Legolas, laying on her unscathed arm. Pitying him, Aila knew that he blamed himself greatly for her pain and would never forgive himself.
"That doesn't matter," she whispered to him. "I forgive you." Wondering what had possessed her to say that, even though he was asleep, Aila placed her head on her uninjured arm and closed her eyes to fall asleep. Flexing her left hand, which was the injured arm, Aila lifted it slowly and placed her hand upon Legolas' arm as he slept. She breathed deeply and fell quickly to sleep, knowing that Legolas was there if she needed anything.
…
Opening his eyes against the light, Legolas cursed himself for falling asleep when he had promised Arwen that he would watch Aila all night long. He moved to stretch himself, as he was cramped from his strange position of sleep, but he felt Aila's hand on his arm and stayed his movements, looking at her hand on his arm for a few moments. The elf remained seated, allowing Aila's hand to stay there as she slept peacefully, even in the bright morning sun.
Usually, Legolas wouldn't be content to simply sit, he would have been fidgeting and uncomfortable. Now, however, he was totally at ease and comfortable, sitting placidly as he watched his injured friend sleep. He would never forgive himself for hurting her like that but somehow he felt that she had already forgiven him and that he should forgive himself. Of course, he would never forgive himself--ever. But it was nice to know that she forgave him, at least. Also, he knew Arwen didn't blame him, and neither did any of the other elves.
Leaning his head back and stretching into the back of his chair, Legolas shifted again, leaving his arm exactly where it was. Aila, however, began to stir, blinking sunlight from her large brown eyes.
"Quel amrun, mellonim," he said to her, flexing his hand as she removed hers from his arm. Though Legolas hadn't been uncomfortable, he felt strangely empty when Aila had removed her hand. "Good morning."
"Good morning," Aila said, through a yawn. She reached up her arms to stretch but quickly stopped herself and winced as she felt the pressure in her left arm. Concern clouded the elven prince's face on more time.
"Amin hiraetha," he said. I am sorry. He looked pleadingly at her to understand. Looking at him curiously, something in his eyes registered to Aila what he meant.
"Legolas, I understand. Trust me, all right? I understand and I forgive you. I only wish that you could forgive yourself, Prince." Casting his eyes downward, Legolas smiled slightly, embarrassed that she could see through him so well. He wondered exactly how much she knew about him, but he didn't feel pressured to ask. Insisting that he go get some breakfast, Aila used her good arm to shove him through the door. Legolas was reluctant to leave Aila, feeling it a weird sort of duty to make sure she was fine every waking and sleeping moment.
"Legolas," she cried, falling to her final resort, "leave so I can change my clothes!" Pleased to see him slightly embarrassed, Aila shut the door swiftly behind him and leaned back against it. Out of habit, Aila blew imaginary bangs from her forehead, a faint smile playing across her lips as she thought about her good friends in Middle Earth. "Three more days," she told herself. "Three."
…
Healing remarkably, Aila stuck out the next three days without infection or undue pain. Mostly, she stuck with Arwen in the gardens as they talked of both worlds and discussed the mission the Fellowship was about to depart on. Several times she wandered over to the archery range, sometimes just sitting as she watched the other archers, her arm not healed enough for her to take up her own bow, which she had brought back through the mirror on a brief visit to her world.
Many of the elves wondered at her compound bow, with all its wires and metallic composure. However, she was soon able to loose her own arrows and she demonstrated how her bow mechanics worked, which was so unlike their own short bows. Basically, she worked on just sending the arrow straight through the air to her chosen target. Once or twice an elf had thrown a leaf into the air, grinning sardonically, not believing that this human girl could pierce the leaf. After her first few tries, she couldn't pierce the arrows and the elves laughed. Aila, however, found nothing entertaining. Determined as always, she recalled several techniques that Legolas had taught her. Asking one more try, the elf through the leaf high into the air. Wide eyed, the rest of the elves watched as the arrow flew straight and true, piercing the leaf sideways in the center, crumpling it into a tree trunk.