Author's note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. If you leave an email
address I'll try and get back to you personally about your reviews.
***
Pain. Pain that rose and fell in time to the beat of his heart. His head felt as though it was the centre for a dwarf mining operation and his leg ached. He drew in a shaking breath, and a stab of agony shot through his chest.
Legolas opened his eyes, but the world was too bright so he quickly closed them. He lifted a hand to his forehead, and touched cloth. He cautiously opened his eyes again, expecting to see his father telling him that he should be more careful, or that he shouldn't hunt spiders on his own, or any number of things he normally said in these situations.
Instead an unfamiliar face swam into view. Legolas tried to push himself up on his elbows to look round, but a firm hand pressed him into the ground and he didn't have the strength to resist it.
"Don't try to move yet." The recollection of recent events filtered through his fogged mind. This was the man he had met just before losing consciousness. Legolas shifted slightly, testing his movements. Pain shot through his right leg, but he discovered that he wasn't bound, which surprised him.
He looked round at their surroundings. He was lying on the rough ground in a small clearing. He could hear the various sounds of woodland creatures, and the sound of water somewhere nearby, but he couldn't quite make it out from his position. In the centre of the clearing was the remains of a fire and beyond that a pile of gear.
Legolas tried to see his weapons. There was a bow amongst the gear, but it wasn't his. It probably belonged to the man. There was thankfully no sign of chains or prisoners.
The man walked across to the gear and returned with a water skin. He held this to Legolas' lips and after a moment's hesitation he drank. After all, if the human had bothered bandaging his head he was unlikely to poison him. Until he began drinking he had been unaware of how thirsty he was. He was also hungry, he realised now.
"Who are you?" he asked as the man removed the empty skin.
"Who are you?" the man asked.
"I asked first," Legolas said, not anxious to reveal his identity to a human. He doubted any of them would have heard his name, but he didn't want to risk it. He had no way of knowing what this man would do if he found out he had an elven prince as his prisoner.
"If you refuse to tell me your name even after I saved your life, why should I trust you with mine?" the man inquired.
"So I should just call you human?"
"If you wish, elf." The was a silence as the human went to his gear and began sorting through one of the bags, apparently engrossed in his task. Legolas raised himself off the ground slightly, but that small movement filled his head with pain that blacked out all other sensations, and he sank back down again.
"Why did you bother doing this, when it was your people who injured me?" Legolas asked after a time.
"I very much doubt my people hurt you," the man said, "for one thing my people dwell far from here. And for another my lord is strongly opposed to needless violence."
"It was your kind," Legolas said in a voice filled with anger. The man just smiled at him, which Legolas found strangely disconcerting.
"You should rest," the man said, "your body needs to heal."
"How would you know what and elf's body needs?" Again that smile came. A strangely superior smile, as though he knew something Legolas didn't. Legolas really didn't like being looked at like that by a human. After all, elves were the older of the races, the immortals. This man had no right to look so self-important.
"Rest." Legolas lay on the ground, because he didn't have any choice in the matter, and gradually sleep stole over him.
When he woke the man was nowhere in sight. Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position, despite the protests of his head at the movement. Throbbing pain filled his temples and it seemed the dwarves were still busy excavating his skull. He looked round for his weapons but couldn't find them. Had the man destroyed them? It seemed like the sort of thing an uncultured man would do: destroy a beautiful work of elven craft.
Perhaps his weapons were with the human's things. He tried to stand, but found he couldn't even get as far as kneeling without his right leg giving way beneath him. The way it felt now it was a miracle he had been able to make his escape. Adrenaline must have kept him going somehow.
He heard someone approaching, and turned to see the human. The bow Legolas had seen earlier was slung across his back and he carried several small rabbits. The sight of them made Legolas' stomach growl. He was surprised how close the man was when he'd first heard him. Normally he would have heard a human from much further away than that. Perhaps pain was dimming his awareness slightly.
"I thought you might be hungry," the man said. He placed the rabbits down and picked up a pot. When he returned it was full of water, so Legolas now knew the direction of the stream he'd heard. With the skill of obvious practise he lit and fire to heat the water and then began to skin the rabbits.
Legolas watched in silence, and the man didn't seem to have any desire to speak either. Legolas wondered who this man was, and why he'd helped him. He probably had some secret purpose of his own, since no human would help another unless he had something to gain from it, but it worked to Legolas' advantage this time. He'd try not to hurt him when he made his escape.
Legolas let his thoughts wander along that path for a while. Hopefully the man didn't know much about elves, so he could pretend to be more hurt than he was. It seemed that the human didn't want to aggravate the wounds by tying him up, so as long as he pretended to be in agony he would be left alone. Right now such a pretence didn't seem so hard.
The man cut up the meat and placed it in the water, which was now boiling on the fire. He went to his pack and took out some small items Legolas couldn't see clearly, because of the position of the man. He added these to the pot and gave it a stir. Then he took out some long strips of cloth.
"I ought to check your bandages again," he said.
"They're fine," Legolas said sharply. He didn't feel like having a human probing his body.
"You should let me judge that," the man said. He knelt at Legolas' side and reached for the bandage across his forehead. Legolas tried to push the man's hands away, but without the support of his arms he found he couldn't even sit. He would have fallen if the man hadn't put a hand against his back. A realistic voice in the back of his mind told him it wouldn't be a bad idea if someone checked him over. He just wished that someone didn't have to be human.
The man helped him shift to a tree so he could lean back against it and remain sitting. Then he carefully unwound the bandage that was wrapped around Legolas' forehead. Legolas swallowed a gasp of pain as the last layer was pulled off, he didn't want this man to see how much he was suffering. Then he remembered he was supposed to be pretending everything was worse so he could escape.
He submitted reluctantly as the man rubbed some sort of ointment in the cut. It stung, and this time he allowed the pain to show. Hopefully the man would think Legolas would be too proud, and that he must be in complete agony. Legolas hated doing this, but it was his best chance of escape. As soon as the human discovered he was healing he would probably tie him up or put him in chains.
The man rebound his head, then moved to lift Legolas' tunic. Legolas caught his hand by the wrist to stop him. Some things he would submit to, but he wouldn't allow himself to be undressed by a human.
"I'm fine," he snarled.
The human lifted his free hand and pressed it against Legolas' chest. The cry of pain escaped before he could stop it and he instinctively released his grasp of the man's wrist.
"I think you need some more lessons in Westron," the man said, "your definition of fine is not the one most people would use." He was smiling as he said it, and Legolas glowered back at him. Then he lifted the tunic.
Tight bandages were wrapped around his chest. As the human unwound these, Legolas found breathing become more painful as the broken rib scraped inside. He bit his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood: the human had made him cry once, no more. The practicalities of his escape plan surrendered to his pride.
His chest was badly bruised, with the occasional red line of a cut. The human rubbed some more of his stinging ointment onto it.
"What is that?" Legolas asked.
"A mix of herbs, including athelas. It helps with most injuries." Legolas nodded. At least it was unlikely to be poisonous, and if it contained athelas it might actually be of some use.
"Did you make it yourself?"
"Not this particular batch, though I know the recipe. This came from my lord's stores."
"He's a healer?"
"The best."
"I doubt it," Legolas said, "he might be good for a human, but he could hardly be the best." The man chuckled softly, and selected a long bandage to bind up Legolas' ribs. Legolas wondered what the joke was, but couldn't ask because he was too busy trying not to scream as the human wrapped the tight cloth around his chest.
Once he had finished the pain lessened, but sharp stabs still shot through his chest with each breath. He'd broken ribs before though, and knew it would pass soon enough.
"Now which of us is going to remove your trousers?" the man asked grinning. Legolas glared at him. Clearly the man had already done so when Legolas was unconscious, but that didn't stop him being infuriated at the humiliation of it now.
"I can bandage my own leg."
"Are you trained as a healer?"
"I wouldn't trust anyone trained by a human."
"I wasn't." For a moment Legolas could only blink at the man in surprise, then he went on to explain. "I was trained by an elf."
"What elf would waste his skills training a human?"
"I wouldn't say it was wasted. You shouldn't either, since it's only because of his training that you're alive." Unfortunately, Legolas couldn't deny that, much though he hated admitting the human was right. What he couldn't understand was what elf would take in a human and train him. Humans were so short-lived it seemed pointless to teach them how to extend their meagre lives by a few short years.
Legolas remained silent, glaring at the human, until he shrugged and turned away. He went and tended the meat, keeping his back turned to Legolas so he could maintain some semblance of dignity.
It was a struggled for Legolas to remove his trousers given his position, but there was no way he would ask the human for help. After some time he managed to get them down to his knees, exposing a mass of white bandages around his right thigh. In places he could see red dots on the white. He must have been bleeding badly for it to soak through this much. Again he wondered how he'd managed to stay upright.
After a few painful minutes he was finished. Moments later the man tipped some of the meat into a bowl and carried it to Legolas. Handing the elf a fork, he returned to the fire to give himself a helping.
"Thank you," Legolas said.
"You're welcome." Legolas ate hungrily. He knew that whatever came next wouldn't be good, so he had to make the most of the moment and regain as much strength as possible. He had to prepare so when the time came he would be able to fight.
***
Author's note: A much longer chapter than last time, but I think I need to work on the cliffhanger. Those of you who think it's Aragorn will just have to keep guessing.
Please let me know what you think. And if anyone knows the elvish word for brother I'd be grateful if you could tell me. I've got one translation, but I'm not sure it's correct.
***
Pain. Pain that rose and fell in time to the beat of his heart. His head felt as though it was the centre for a dwarf mining operation and his leg ached. He drew in a shaking breath, and a stab of agony shot through his chest.
Legolas opened his eyes, but the world was too bright so he quickly closed them. He lifted a hand to his forehead, and touched cloth. He cautiously opened his eyes again, expecting to see his father telling him that he should be more careful, or that he shouldn't hunt spiders on his own, or any number of things he normally said in these situations.
Instead an unfamiliar face swam into view. Legolas tried to push himself up on his elbows to look round, but a firm hand pressed him into the ground and he didn't have the strength to resist it.
"Don't try to move yet." The recollection of recent events filtered through his fogged mind. This was the man he had met just before losing consciousness. Legolas shifted slightly, testing his movements. Pain shot through his right leg, but he discovered that he wasn't bound, which surprised him.
He looked round at their surroundings. He was lying on the rough ground in a small clearing. He could hear the various sounds of woodland creatures, and the sound of water somewhere nearby, but he couldn't quite make it out from his position. In the centre of the clearing was the remains of a fire and beyond that a pile of gear.
Legolas tried to see his weapons. There was a bow amongst the gear, but it wasn't his. It probably belonged to the man. There was thankfully no sign of chains or prisoners.
The man walked across to the gear and returned with a water skin. He held this to Legolas' lips and after a moment's hesitation he drank. After all, if the human had bothered bandaging his head he was unlikely to poison him. Until he began drinking he had been unaware of how thirsty he was. He was also hungry, he realised now.
"Who are you?" he asked as the man removed the empty skin.
"Who are you?" the man asked.
"I asked first," Legolas said, not anxious to reveal his identity to a human. He doubted any of them would have heard his name, but he didn't want to risk it. He had no way of knowing what this man would do if he found out he had an elven prince as his prisoner.
"If you refuse to tell me your name even after I saved your life, why should I trust you with mine?" the man inquired.
"So I should just call you human?"
"If you wish, elf." The was a silence as the human went to his gear and began sorting through one of the bags, apparently engrossed in his task. Legolas raised himself off the ground slightly, but that small movement filled his head with pain that blacked out all other sensations, and he sank back down again.
"Why did you bother doing this, when it was your people who injured me?" Legolas asked after a time.
"I very much doubt my people hurt you," the man said, "for one thing my people dwell far from here. And for another my lord is strongly opposed to needless violence."
"It was your kind," Legolas said in a voice filled with anger. The man just smiled at him, which Legolas found strangely disconcerting.
"You should rest," the man said, "your body needs to heal."
"How would you know what and elf's body needs?" Again that smile came. A strangely superior smile, as though he knew something Legolas didn't. Legolas really didn't like being looked at like that by a human. After all, elves were the older of the races, the immortals. This man had no right to look so self-important.
"Rest." Legolas lay on the ground, because he didn't have any choice in the matter, and gradually sleep stole over him.
When he woke the man was nowhere in sight. Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position, despite the protests of his head at the movement. Throbbing pain filled his temples and it seemed the dwarves were still busy excavating his skull. He looked round for his weapons but couldn't find them. Had the man destroyed them? It seemed like the sort of thing an uncultured man would do: destroy a beautiful work of elven craft.
Perhaps his weapons were with the human's things. He tried to stand, but found he couldn't even get as far as kneeling without his right leg giving way beneath him. The way it felt now it was a miracle he had been able to make his escape. Adrenaline must have kept him going somehow.
He heard someone approaching, and turned to see the human. The bow Legolas had seen earlier was slung across his back and he carried several small rabbits. The sight of them made Legolas' stomach growl. He was surprised how close the man was when he'd first heard him. Normally he would have heard a human from much further away than that. Perhaps pain was dimming his awareness slightly.
"I thought you might be hungry," the man said. He placed the rabbits down and picked up a pot. When he returned it was full of water, so Legolas now knew the direction of the stream he'd heard. With the skill of obvious practise he lit and fire to heat the water and then began to skin the rabbits.
Legolas watched in silence, and the man didn't seem to have any desire to speak either. Legolas wondered who this man was, and why he'd helped him. He probably had some secret purpose of his own, since no human would help another unless he had something to gain from it, but it worked to Legolas' advantage this time. He'd try not to hurt him when he made his escape.
Legolas let his thoughts wander along that path for a while. Hopefully the man didn't know much about elves, so he could pretend to be more hurt than he was. It seemed that the human didn't want to aggravate the wounds by tying him up, so as long as he pretended to be in agony he would be left alone. Right now such a pretence didn't seem so hard.
The man cut up the meat and placed it in the water, which was now boiling on the fire. He went to his pack and took out some small items Legolas couldn't see clearly, because of the position of the man. He added these to the pot and gave it a stir. Then he took out some long strips of cloth.
"I ought to check your bandages again," he said.
"They're fine," Legolas said sharply. He didn't feel like having a human probing his body.
"You should let me judge that," the man said. He knelt at Legolas' side and reached for the bandage across his forehead. Legolas tried to push the man's hands away, but without the support of his arms he found he couldn't even sit. He would have fallen if the man hadn't put a hand against his back. A realistic voice in the back of his mind told him it wouldn't be a bad idea if someone checked him over. He just wished that someone didn't have to be human.
The man helped him shift to a tree so he could lean back against it and remain sitting. Then he carefully unwound the bandage that was wrapped around Legolas' forehead. Legolas swallowed a gasp of pain as the last layer was pulled off, he didn't want this man to see how much he was suffering. Then he remembered he was supposed to be pretending everything was worse so he could escape.
He submitted reluctantly as the man rubbed some sort of ointment in the cut. It stung, and this time he allowed the pain to show. Hopefully the man would think Legolas would be too proud, and that he must be in complete agony. Legolas hated doing this, but it was his best chance of escape. As soon as the human discovered he was healing he would probably tie him up or put him in chains.
The man rebound his head, then moved to lift Legolas' tunic. Legolas caught his hand by the wrist to stop him. Some things he would submit to, but he wouldn't allow himself to be undressed by a human.
"I'm fine," he snarled.
The human lifted his free hand and pressed it against Legolas' chest. The cry of pain escaped before he could stop it and he instinctively released his grasp of the man's wrist.
"I think you need some more lessons in Westron," the man said, "your definition of fine is not the one most people would use." He was smiling as he said it, and Legolas glowered back at him. Then he lifted the tunic.
Tight bandages were wrapped around his chest. As the human unwound these, Legolas found breathing become more painful as the broken rib scraped inside. He bit his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood: the human had made him cry once, no more. The practicalities of his escape plan surrendered to his pride.
His chest was badly bruised, with the occasional red line of a cut. The human rubbed some more of his stinging ointment onto it.
"What is that?" Legolas asked.
"A mix of herbs, including athelas. It helps with most injuries." Legolas nodded. At least it was unlikely to be poisonous, and if it contained athelas it might actually be of some use.
"Did you make it yourself?"
"Not this particular batch, though I know the recipe. This came from my lord's stores."
"He's a healer?"
"The best."
"I doubt it," Legolas said, "he might be good for a human, but he could hardly be the best." The man chuckled softly, and selected a long bandage to bind up Legolas' ribs. Legolas wondered what the joke was, but couldn't ask because he was too busy trying not to scream as the human wrapped the tight cloth around his chest.
Once he had finished the pain lessened, but sharp stabs still shot through his chest with each breath. He'd broken ribs before though, and knew it would pass soon enough.
"Now which of us is going to remove your trousers?" the man asked grinning. Legolas glared at him. Clearly the man had already done so when Legolas was unconscious, but that didn't stop him being infuriated at the humiliation of it now.
"I can bandage my own leg."
"Are you trained as a healer?"
"I wouldn't trust anyone trained by a human."
"I wasn't." For a moment Legolas could only blink at the man in surprise, then he went on to explain. "I was trained by an elf."
"What elf would waste his skills training a human?"
"I wouldn't say it was wasted. You shouldn't either, since it's only because of his training that you're alive." Unfortunately, Legolas couldn't deny that, much though he hated admitting the human was right. What he couldn't understand was what elf would take in a human and train him. Humans were so short-lived it seemed pointless to teach them how to extend their meagre lives by a few short years.
Legolas remained silent, glaring at the human, until he shrugged and turned away. He went and tended the meat, keeping his back turned to Legolas so he could maintain some semblance of dignity.
It was a struggled for Legolas to remove his trousers given his position, but there was no way he would ask the human for help. After some time he managed to get them down to his knees, exposing a mass of white bandages around his right thigh. In places he could see red dots on the white. He must have been bleeding badly for it to soak through this much. Again he wondered how he'd managed to stay upright.
After a few painful minutes he was finished. Moments later the man tipped some of the meat into a bowl and carried it to Legolas. Handing the elf a fork, he returned to the fire to give himself a helping.
"Thank you," Legolas said.
"You're welcome." Legolas ate hungrily. He knew that whatever came next wouldn't be good, so he had to make the most of the moment and regain as much strength as possible. He had to prepare so when the time came he would be able to fight.
***
Author's note: A much longer chapter than last time, but I think I need to work on the cliffhanger. Those of you who think it's Aragorn will just have to keep guessing.
Please let me know what you think. And if anyone knows the elvish word for brother I'd be grateful if you could tell me. I've got one translation, but I'm not sure it's correct.