--------
After sunrise, Elrohir scanned the area from his perch and decided that Legolas wasn't around. He leapt from the tree and landed lightly, shocking his steed into rearing and screaming. Being hobbled, he didn't manage to get far. Elrohir kept a grip on the reins and managed to get him to behave before he removed the hobble and climbed on. Thoroughly exhausted, the horse immediately gave in and moved back to the trail at full speed, ears flattened to his head.
As the horse galloped, he couldn't help thinking about his friend and the horribly painful events that he had witnessed. He couldn't even imagine what it had been like for him, the constant fear in his eyes ever since discovering the length of fur running down his spine. Reflexively, he ran his hand across the back of his neck. And immediately hauled his horse to a skidding halt. Trembling, he ran his fingers through a slender strip of fur along his spine, starting at his hairline and ending just between his shoulder blades.
"Sweet Eru," he breathed, silver eyes wide. He dragged his thoughts back across the last few days, trying to figure out when he had been infected. He nearly slapped himself when he remembered that he had been so stupid as to share a flask with Legolas. Never before in his life had he had to worry about getting ill, and caution about something so mundane just never crossed his mind.
"Ada," he whispered, desperately yearning for his father. He understood then just how terrified Legolas had been, heart hammering almost painfully in his chest. He kicked the chestnut stallion into action, now comprehending why the horse had been acting up.
He kept the steed running through the day and night alike, pressing for time even with the knowledge that he was running the animal to death. As the hours passed, he noticed that he could smell the sweat covering the horse and the scent of its fear. He steered his mount effortlessly through the dark, his vision growing ever sharper. He tried to ignore his body changing under him, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. He was forced to acknowledge that he had grown a tail when it pressed painfully against his breeches, and then only long enough to cut a small hole in the back of his pants with his dagger. He accidentally nicked himself since he was atop a galloping horse.
The morning of the fifth day came after a long night of riding. The horse was barely on his feet, stumbling with every step. Tripping on a rock, it collapsed and made no move to get back up. Elrohir removed the harness and got off, knowing that the animal was of no more use. He left it where it laid, taking his weapons and a small amount of lembas with him as he jogged off. After a few hours, the sound of approaching hooves could be heard to the left and Elrohir's ear automatically swiveled towards the source.
Turning, he ran towards the sound, bursting out of the trees and charging the group of five elves he saw. He recognized Elladan, Elrond and Glorfindel immediately, but the two swordsmen with them, he did not. He must have shocked the group with his sudden, silent arrival, because Glorfindel had his bow up and fired a shot before he had taken three steps.
"Ada!" he called, throwing himself to the side to avoid the arrow.
"Hold your fire!" Elladan ordered, charging towards him. Elrond took a moment longer to follow, too stunned by the sight of his son to react as quickly. "What happened? Where's Legolas?"
"He lost his mind and ran off a day and a half ago," Elrohir panted.
He quickly relayed the events of the past few days, a little embarrassed when he admitted how he had been infected. Elrond checked him over tensely as he spoke, his mouth set in a grim line. He gripped the ankle-length tail a little too firmly and Elrohir jumped. The rapid inspection revealed matching wolf ears, rather prominent fangs, claws, fur down his spine and a line down his abdomen. He was relieved that he hadn't regressed too far, but Elrond was livid, not speaking to him at all while he dug through his bags.
"You can help him, right?" Elladan asked, looking worried. Elrond didn't respond, his face a stony mask.
"Ada?" Elrohir asked, voice tinged with panic.
"I'm not sure," Elrond sighed. "It's been fifteen hundred years since I've seen anything like this and only then among the race of men. But it did not proceed like this. I had not known that an elf could fall victim to it."
"But there is a cure?" Elrohir pressed.
"Nay," Elrond admitted. "All I can do is strengthen your immune system and pray that your natural constitution will protect you. No elf in history has ever fallen to disease. I do not want to be the first to document a case."
"What about Legolas," Elladan interrupted. "We can't let him run loose."
"I'll find him," Glorfindel announced. "Where was he last?"
Elrohir did his best to give detailed instructions to the small clearing where he had last seen the blond archer. Waving the two swordsmen with him, Glorfindel galloped off. Elrohir watched him go, a little regretful that he had given the blond warrior accurate instructions. He felt bad that it was necessary to kill the Mirkwood prince, but the infection was dangerous and they couldn't risk that it would spread to others. The possibility of his own ability to recover worried him. He knew it was possible that he may have to share his friend's fate. From the anguished look in his father's eyes, Elrond knew it as well.
Elrond handed him a brew that he had made and he winced at the smell of it, dreading what it would taste like. It was so bitter that his tongue curled, and he gulped it quickly, eager to be done with it. He winced at the queasiness it caused. If it strengthened his immune system as Elrond thought it would, then he'd have to suffer through it.
"How much of this am I going to have to drink?" he asked, handing the cup back in distaste.
"A glass every morning and evening until you recover," Elrond said. If you recover.
It took both Elrond and Elladan to hold one of the horses so he could mount. Elrohir tried to break the silence that had descended on the group.
"What happened to the mare you were riding?"
"Killed her from strain," Elladan said. "Had to run the last few miles on foot." He sighed. "What about your steed?"
"Collapsed a few hours ago. I left him where he fell," Elrohir responded. Elladan mounted behind him as he spoke. He yelped loudly and jerked forward, startling his brother into losing his balance and causing the horse to buck. The combination of the two resulted in Elladan being thrown off. The horse might have bolted had Elrond not been standing nearby, catching it by the muzzle.
"What was that about?" Elladan asked indignantly, getting up stiffly.
"You sat on my tail!"
Elrond eyed the lump under Elrohir's cloak that was the hidden appendage that Elladan had accidentally crushed. "Perhaps you should ride with me," he told Elladan, frowning. I've already lost one son to this. I'll not lose the other.
The twins understood the unspoken thought and fell silent. Though doubtful of his ability to control his mount, Elrohir kicked his horse forward, starting the journey back home while his father and brother mounted. They were only a day out, but all three wanted to return as quickly as possible. The remainder of the trip was made in silence.
--------
Legolas ran clumsily through the darkness, tripping on his newly furry feet. Once he was certain that Elrohir hadn't tried to follow him, he slowed to a stop and started pulling at his clothes again. In the form of an enormous wolf, clothes were rather uncomfortable, and with fur, much too hot. He didn't fancy the necessity of using his teeth, but the lack of fingers left him no other choice. For hours, he had been debating the decision to remove his attire, only giving in to the temptation to free himself from the irritation when they stopped for the night. It had never crossed his waking mind that it would have such an effect on his companion.
Freed from the restrictive garments, he jogged back to where he had left Elrohir, hoping that the raven-haired elf had calmed down and put away the sword. His companion had mistaken the panicked look in his eyes for something else and had rashly attacked. Upon arrival at the makeshift campsite, he was shocked to find Elrohir sleeping in the branches of a large pine tree.
He's afraid of me, Legolas realized. He stood motionless for a few minutes, finally turning to lie down under a nearby bush for the night.
In the morning, he saw Elrohir scanning the area for him, looking afraid. Legolas hesitated in coming out, wondering if the Peredhil would attack him again. When Elrohir mounted his horse, seemingly having trouble controlling the animal, he came out to try his luck. Though Elrohir didn't see him, the horse did and bolted. Since he had been trying to get it to move anyways, the twin didn't sense anything suspicious about the sudden obedience of his mount.
Still getting used to his new form, he was too clumsy to run at full capacity and couldn't keep pace with the charging horse. He watched the pair disappear, wondering what to do. No matter where he went, odds were that he would be shot before anyone realized who he was. He needed help, but going after it was certain death. In a stuttering lope, he started towards Imladris, hoping that he could catch one of the twins on the road before they got to the city. If he was careful, he hoped he could convince them that he was still lucid.
Pressing for speed, he very nearly caught up with the twins. He paused for a breather when he came upon the downed steed that Elrohir had been riding, the animal asleep from sheer exhaustion. He looked over the trembling beast, wondering if it would survive the effort it had put forth. After so many days of running with no rest, no food and no water, it would suffer greatly if it did survive.
Hearing hoof beats approaching at a rapid pace, he looked up. He could hear three distinct sets and his thoughts immediately led him to think that it was the twins and their father. He reconsidered when he remembered that Elrohir had lost his mount. Taking a hesitant step backwards, he started studying the area, noting with alarm that there was no decent place to hide. Had he still had the advantage of hands, he'd have taken to the treetops. His brows drew together at the notion.
By the Valar, I'm a wood elf! We can climb a tree hogtied!
He'd proven that on a drunken bet once and had garnered a lot of gold for his efforts.
Eying a massive pine tree, he contemplated the arrangement of branches. With a quick running leap, he repelled off of the trunk and stretched for the lowest branch, managing to hook one wrist and one elbow around the thick limb. Using his elbow in such a fashion forced him to roll his arm at an odd angle, putting a lot of stress on his shoulder, but he persisted to keep his hold. Kicking out with his legs against the trunk to gain altitude, he hooked the arm nearer the trunk up to his armpit, swinging his legs up to wrap a leg over the branch. He gained an ungainly position on his belly on the limb, careful to get his feet steadily beneath him before raising his gaze. Using the same methodology, he continued his way up the tree until he had reached the upper branches.
He managed to vanish into the foliage just in time, three armed elves on horseback spinning to a halt beside the downed stallion. Nothing to be done for the weary horse, they moved off. Knowing that they were hunting an elf turned wolf, it never occurred to them to look up and they entirely missed Legolas' presence.
For his part, Legolas watched the three ride off, eyeing their drawn weapons. It didn't escape his notice that Glorfindel was with them. He easily recognized the legendary warrior and was more than a little worried that such an esteemed figure led the hunt for his head. Imladris was not an option any longer. Giving the departing elves nearly an hour, he climbed down, jumping from one branch to another. On his third leap, he lost his footing and tumbled from the branches, landing in an ungainly heap beside the downed horse and startling it into lurching to its feet. It staggered a few steps away.
Bruised and stiff, Legolas regained his feet and started towards his home in Mirkwood. He swayed his path wide to avoid the three hunters looking for him. He wasn't sure what he would do when he got there, but he had nowhere else to turn.
--------
The Peredhil family made it back to the Last Homely Home without incident, upon which time Elrohir was quarantined to his room. Under Elrond's treatment, his transformation slowed greatly, but the fur was spreading still. He never protested the daily examinations until his nether regions were affected, at which point he squirmed relentlessly under the scrutiny he was under.
Deeply upset by what he was witnessing, Elrond increased the dosage of the tonic he was giving his son even though he knew that it would do no good. When his ribs began to bow outwards, he was forced to withhold treatment so that he would alter faster. He didn't want it to happen, but he had to let his son's ribcage to shift so he could breathe. It nearly killed him when he finally admitted to himself that it was useless. His heart almost broke from the knowledge that one of his children was going to die by his own hands. He couldn't allow Elrohir to remain as he was and he couldn't bring himself to let someone else end it.
Glorfindel and the two soldiers returned within the week, entirely unsuccessful in finding Legolas, the blond wolf dancing circles around their efforts. The only news of him they could offer was that he had turned up in Mirkwood and run off quickly after both his older brother and father attempted to kill him.
The balrog slayer bore worse news than Elrond was prepared to hear. The blond had attempted to inform the royal family of their son's fate upon learning about his attempt to return home. They had reacted very badly, blaming the Noldor elves for what had happened. Elrohir for faltering in battle and Elrond for being unable to reach him in time or to help him. Thranduil had declared war.
Troubled by everything that was happening, Elrond went to see his son, knowing well that every visit could be his last. It was past midnight, but he didn't doubt that Elrohir would still be awake. He found himself facing a jet-black wolf standing on the balcony and gazing longingly at the city below him with longing eyes. Hearing his father enter, he glanced back at him with silver eyes. Elrond took a deep breath.
"Elrohir," he began sadly, not even sure if his son could understand him. "You know what has to be done."
The silvery gaze dropped. Elrond knelt beside him, resting one hand on his shoulders. He knotted his fingers in the silken fur when he felt the faint trembling under his palm. Drawing his dagger, he pressed the blade against the base of Elrohir's skull, preparing to kill him with one swift thrust.
I don't want to die, Elrohir thought, shocked by the revelation. He'd rather spend his life as a warped creature than to end his existence.
Ducking into a roll, he dodged out of his stunned father's grasp and ran. He leapt off the balcony and landed on the cobbled ground with a stiff bounce, scaring the wits out of some hapless elf that had been standing guard. Knowing that there were few that would refrain from slaughtering him, he ran, pressing himself to the limits of his strength and speed to escape Rivendell, the occasional arrow whizzing by his sprinting form. It was nothing short of a miracle that allowed him to disappear into the night, escaping largely due to his midnight black coat.
Elrohir trembled as he ran, barely beginning to understand the implications of his rash decision. He was without a home, allies or food, running blindly through the night into unknown woods. His back stung from a patch of lost hair that had been pulled out when he had rolled out of his father's grip. Blood trickled down his neck from a nick from the dagger that had been pressed to his head.
He ran east to the Misty Mountains, knowing that he would be able to hide there.
--------
Legolas lay in a small cave, idly watching the sunrise and wondering what he would do. He hadn't eaten for the six days since he had been in Mirkwood, and only then had he managed to snipe a few apples from nearby orchards, the fruit making him sick to his stomach. Though repulsed by the thought, he had chased the occasional squirrel or rabbit, but had yet to catch one.
For lack of a better course, he gradually worked his way west, debating the wisdom of going to Rivendell. From the opening of the cave near a cliff top, he peered towards the city he was loathe to approach, watching curiously as a black streak ran up the mountainside.
What is that? Legolas wondered, dragging himself to his feet. Too dark for the deer in the area and too large to be a wild boar. A horse maybe?
He trotted towards the approaching figure, considering taking it down as food. He wouldn't do it if the creature was indeed a horse, still holding too much respect for the animals to even contemplate eating one. Shock ran through him when he saw that it was another enormous wolf, easily the same size as himself. Not ready to take on another predator, he shied away.
The color of the wolf didn't surprise him overly, but the shocking silver eyes did. Amazed by his own temerity, he approached the midnight wolf.
Elrohir? Legolas thought, astounded. Silver eyes turned to him, equally shocked, the wolf coming to a skidding halt a short distance from him.
Legolas?
Cerulean eyes widened. You can hear me?
It would appear so, unless I've lost my mind, Elrohir answered.
I didn't know you'd been infected as well. What happened?
My fault, Elrohir said before Legolas could blame himself. Shared the water flask with you the second day on the road. I should have been more careful.
It's that contagious?
Apparently so.
What about Elladan?
No one else was infected, just us, Elrohir said. He paused, eyeing Legolas askance. Why were you pulling at your clothes with your teeth? I thought you'd lost your mind.
Judging from your state of undress, I'd say you've noticed how uncomfortable clothes are now.
But your teeth?
Notice the lack of fingers, Legolas commented wryly. Elrohir guffawed at his ability to joke around, even in their state. The blond wolf sniffed at the other, ears twitching. Why do you smell of blood?
Elrohir shook his head dismissively, not wanting to tell his friend that his father had planned to kill him and had very nearly succeeded. The human gesture looked sorely out of place on a wolf. A change in scent accompanying the motion told Legolas that the subject upset his friend and was not one to be broached. He willingly dropped the question and changed to a safer subject.
I was trying to hunt when I saw you, Legolas said. I've had no luck.
You're actually going to eat a small creature? Elrohir asked, shocked.
We're going to have to. In a week or so, you'll see it my way too.
Elrohir grunted. I thought you looked thin, he said. You're right, though. Must be harder than it looks if you haven't succeeded yet.
I'm too slow, Legolas admitted.
We can work together to corner something, Elrohir offered. He started jogging, leaving Legolas no option but to follow or appear rude. What type of game is in the mountains?
I haven't seen much. Honestly, I think that most everything is avoiding me.
Nodding again, Elrohir led the way into some trees. After an hour, and several fruitless chases, they managed to trap a large hare between them. Legolas hesitated in taking it into his mouth to kill it and it almost got away but Elrohir leapt on it, breaking its back. They both stared at it for a moment.
Help yourself, Elrohir offered. He knew that the blond hadn't eaten in much longer than himself. That and he wasn't really that eager to sample raw meat.
Legolas didn't respond verbally, ears flattening to his head. He made several false starts, hungry but not really wanting to bite into it. Elrohir snickered at the look of revulsion on his companion's face.
Oh, shut up.
Mostly to stop his friend from laughing at him, he almost delicately nipped at it, not using enough force to even bruise the flesh. Elrohir laughed louder, the sound rather guttural from a wolf's throat. Legolas glared, blue eyes flashing in ire and Elrohir finally took pity on him.
I'll try it if you will, he offered companionably. Legolas nodded in acceptance.
Goading each other on, neither would be able to back out without losing face. Elrohir found it was actually harder than he had thought to make himself bite the hare, hesitantly closing his jaws until skin popped under his teeth, flooding his mouth with blood. He dropped his hold and actually jumped back a little from the kill. Trying to show him up, Legolas closed his eyes and pinned the body with one foot, using his teeth to pull back the skin on one leg. He too flinched at the new taste but he didn't pull away, too hungry to give up immediately. He didn't watch what he was doing, not looking at what he was doing in a bid to keep his mind off it. After only a few tentative bites, he gave up.
Keep going, Elrohir prompted. You need the food.
What happened to you trying?
I did try. Didn't like it.
Legolas glared, a bit jealous that the hare's blood didn't show on Elrohir like he was sure it did in his own golden fur.
You're going to have to do this too.
Don't want to, Elrohir pouted, but he did give in. Sighing, he mimicked Legolas' style and held it down with one foot while he stripped the front legs of flesh. Wrinkling his nose, he relinquished the body to the blond.
Feeling remotely better than he had after the few little bites he had managed, Legolas accepted more readily. Knowing that it would probably gross his companion out beyond words, he ripped open the belly and bolted the innards, not bothering to chew anything.
Ew.
Legolas ignored the commentary, having expected it. The novelty of the experience had lost its edge and he finished stripping the body of flesh. Elrohir let him have it, both knowing that the blond needed it more and not really wanting it himself. He waited patiently until the hare was stripped before speaking again.
Is there a stream around here?
There's a small tributary to the Great River a ways north of here, Legolas said.
Good. I'd like to wash off.
Legolas led him to a small stream where if welled from a spring in a mass of rocks. He dunked his head in, trying to get the blood out of his fur. It was ice cold and he pulled out rather quickly, shaking his head a bit awkwardly to try to flick out some of the water. He chuckled when Elrohir hopped in a few feet downstream and immediately got back out with a high-pitched yelp.
By the way, it's cold, Legolas offered. Elrohir growled menacingly.
He climbed back in the water, creating a pink eddy in his wake. After a few minutes, he couldn't take the biting cold and he got back onto the rocks, shaking a little awkwardly. The maneuver was so clumsy that he didn't succeed in getting much water out of his fur. Taking a drink at the source of the spring, the two departed.
Each was silently glad that the other was there. Alone, they would have faded from misery and loneliness if they didn't starve to death first. Only joint efforts allowed them to catch any prey the first few weeks and being stuck in warped forms would have driven them both insane without sympathetic company. Most of their quarry consisted of small game, usually rabbits, squirrels and birds. It took them almost two months before they were capable of catching and taking down a small deer.
They found sixteen different caves and hollows over a large range of land, rotating where they stayed so that they didn't tax their food supply. After they adjusted to the extreme lifestyle change, they became vaguely content, completely unaware of the war between the Sindar and Noldor elves around them. The war had started after Legolas had run and Elrond hadn't possessed the heart to tell Elrohir. More than a year passed before they became aware of the situation, and only then by accident.
--------
To Be Continued…
R&R! Come on, you know you want to.
For any of you perverts interested, there is a side story to this called "Furry Interlude." If you couldn't guess, it's pure furry smut. It will have yaoi and bestiality with Elrohir/Legolas. It's left out of the main story to be kind to those individuals who are traumatized by the very thought of fluffy love. Be afraid. Be very afraid.