In my dreams, I walked through a forest blasted and laid to waste. The trees reached into the sky like warped hands praying for supplication. In the distance I saw a figure clad in Shadow Warrior black, silhouetted against the burning sky. I raced to catch up to the figure. I seized its shoulder and whirled it around.
I gazed deep into the Mother's eyes. She smiled at me with infinite kindness and boundless love. "My child, you must return to the world. You are greatly needed there."
"I cannot. Mother, I cannot. It's too hard, I'm too tired. Please." I clung to her, wanting only to rest and be away from that other world.
"It is not yet your time to come to Me. Go back until I call you to Me." She gathered me to Her bosom, cradling me in Her strong arms. I closed my eyes, feeling Her fingers stroking through my tangled hair. "Go back, and love your Western Elf. You have many, many years left to you."
I gasped, choking, as hot liquid filled my mouth. I lurched upright on the narrow bed, lashing out at the hands that tried to force me back down. I could hear my own breath, loud and whistling in my ears. Pain clawed at me, paralyzing my limbs and seizing my lungs in an iron fist. I choked again and coughed, blood splattering onto the white sheets. I was suddenly dizzy and fell back onto the bed, gasping frantically for air I couldn't capture.
"You must lie still, melda. Beloved, they cannot help you unless you hold still." I swung my head toward the voice. Legolas bent over the bed, his face filthy and dappled with blood. His indigo silks were torn and smeared with blood and something unspeakably foul-smelling. He gripped my hand tightly in his own, his eyes holding mine, unblinking. I twitched and cried out as a Healer touched the arrow still embedded in my chest. Legolas grabbed my chin in his free hand and held my face firmly. He spoke calmly and carefully.
"Dearest, they have to pull the arrow out. The Healers are afraid to put a sleep spell on you for fear we will lose you again. Can you be strong for this?" I stared into his deep blue eyes, feeling an eerie calm wash over my body. My breathing slowed and quieted. I licked a trace of blood from my lips, and rasped out an answer.
"Tell them to hurry." He gripped my hand and my face tightly. He glanced up; from the corners of my eyes I saw Aragorn, Gimli, and Sala standing at the end of the bed. The Healer, a tiny, solemn women, motioned them closer. She issued instructions in a crisp voice.
"My lords, I need you to hold her down. The arrow must come out cleanly without tearing anything on its way out, and she must be kept still the whole time. Sala, take this bandage. As soon as the arrow comes free, you must put as much pressure on the wound as you can." They gathered around the bed. Aragorn stripped off his belt and strapped my free arm to the leg of the bed; when he was sure it was secure, he straddled the bed and leaned his full weight onto my lower torso. I felt Gimli pin my legs down, one massive hand around each calf.
Aragorn glanced up at Legolas as the Healer bustled around locating equipment. He grinned slightly. "Legolas, my brother, I hope that you will not call me out later for such familiarities with your lady." Legolas smiled grimly.
"And you." Aragorn looked down at me, still grinning. "I hear you have recently recovered from a similar wound. Mornië, you must get out of the habit of injury. You will have no lungs left, otherwise." I tried to laugh and choked on coppery liquid. Aragorn sobered again. He grabbed Legolas's arm and stared into his eyes.
"Turn her face away, Legolas. Hold her eyes." He glanced down at my face and touched my cheek lightly. "Hold onto him, Mornië. Do not let go of him, not for anything." I nodded, a single jerk of the head.
The Healer approached the bed. "Are you ready, sister?" I couldn't control my whimper of fear as I jerked my head again. Aragorn and Gimli put their whole weight against my body. Legolas gripped my free hand and pressed my head against the pillow with the entire strength of his arm, his elbow curved over my ear and his palm cupping my forehead. His chilly eyes fixed on mine; I heard his voice whispering Elvish to me. I felt the arrow wiggle slightly as the Healer grasped it. She counted to three and yanked upwards.
The pain was immense, a tearing, blinding fire that ripped through my chest. My whole body jerked as I screamed in pure agony. Aragorn cursed and forced my body back onto the bed. The pain went on and on, grinding through bone, slicing through my lungs, stealing every breath from my body. I felt tears pouring down my face. The pain lessened momentarily. The Healer straightened; I glanced down out of the corner of my eyes and saw the arrow still protruding from my chest.
"Oh, Blessed Mother, help me. It hurts." My voice was a ragged sob lacking reason or sense. "Please. Pull it out. Tell her to pull it out or kill me. Please."
Legolas snapped at the Healer in frustration. "Are you not done yet? Why is it not out?" He stroked my forehead, trying to calm me.
She turned to him, her face frightened. "I am not strong enough to remove it. It has pierced the bone and is caught. We need a male Healer, someone with more strength, but we have none." She pressed her lips together, her brow creased with anxiety. She touched Legolas on the shoulder, breaking our gaze. "My lord, someone must remove the arrow, or she will die. And I cannot." Her look was significant, pleading.
He stared at her in shock. He rose slowly, still touching my face. He stared at the arrow, then at the others. Aragorn muttered something to him that I could not hear, his face serious. Legolas nodded and knelt again, whispering into my ear.
"Beloved, I have to let go of you now. Please know that it kills me to hurt you." I squeezed his hand, panicking as I felt a hot trickle gush out of my mouth. I pushed him away from me.
"Just hurry. Hurry, and be quick." He nodded, his face a stony mask. The Healer took his place at my side, pinning my head to the bed again. I felt him place one knee on the bed and grasp the arrow. I vaguely remarked that his touch was steadier than the Healer's. He counted softly, then pulled.
I felt the arrow this time, through the pain, as it tore back out of my body. I shrieked again, so strongly that there was no sound. I felt a gush of blood, then a pressure on my chest as the arrow slid free and Sala leaned down on the wound. The Healer sprang into motion as the Aragorn and Gimli leaped off the bed and out of the way. Legolas knelt beside me again and took my hand. I noticed that he was streaked with my blood, his hands sticky and wet. I raised my fingertips to his bright hair, matted with blood and dirt, and brushed at the loose strands. He smiled weakly at me, stroking my face with his one clean finger.
"Legolas. The Mage line. How many...still alive?" A pained expression crossed his face.
"Eight. Three uninjured. We turned them back, in the end." Eight, of sixty. I closed my eyes, already mourning. He slapped my face lightly.
"Open your eyes, beloved. Do not fail on me now." I focused on his blue eyes again, almost black with fear and worry. I smiled faintly and touched his face.
"Don't worry. I saw Her, the Dark One. She sent me back. It's not my time yet, She said. We have much time left to us."
He smiled, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "That is good. Besides, you cannot go until you have shown me your home. You promised, remember?"