Legolas was prowling around at night, uneasy. He had scented blood in the air earlier in the day after they rotated to one of their more secluded caves. He was unable to sleep and had been wandering around since their arrival. Elrohir was running around as well, searching for the source of the scent. Legolas discovered it first.
A battlefield full of corpses met his sight, Sindar and Noldor elves alike. Hundreds lay dead, the ground crimson from blood. It had dried, indicating that the battle had occurred at least a day ago. Throwing back his head, the blond called his friend, letting loose a long mournful howl. Their telepathic capabilities didn't extend to great distances and he didn't know where Elrohir was. He wandered through the battlefield, letting loose the occasional cry to orient the raven-black wolf as he searched for survivors. There were none.
Elrohir loped up to him, silver eyes narrowing at the sight of the dead elves.
What happened here? Elrohir asked.
I don't know. There are only elves here and I can smell no orcs.
The arrows are elfish. This is war, the raven-furred wolf said.
Legolas groaned, having wanted to reach any explanation but that. He lowered his head in respect for the fallen, gasping when he recognized one of the dead. This is Thendar!
Our captain? By the Valar! Is my brother here?
I haven't seen him, Legolas answered, worried.
Look.
Following the order, the blond began to work with his friend in a thorough search of the dead, making certain to check every elf. The search took him into the trees to study the profiles of the archers. A cliff caught his attention and he ran over to it, peering off the edge in realization that one of the two sides must have been pressed up against it. There were a number of forms at the bottom, elf and horse alike.
I'm going down, Legolas called. Suiting action to his words, he leapt from the thirty-foot ledge, knowing that the landing would be uncomfortable but bearable. He circled the corpses quickly, cursing to himself when he recognized Elladan, one leg pinned under the body of a dead horse. He's down here!
Eru… no… Is he alive?
Legolas nudged the sable-haired elf, letting out a shaky breath when he earned himself a pained groan. He's alive!
There was a thud as Elrohir landed after his own leap, running over to the pair. In unspoken coordination, they each latched onto a leg of the horse and started lugging the animal off of Elladan. The pinned leg seemed to have an extra joint mid shin, both tibia and fibula broken. They winced in sympathy.
Brother! Brother, wake up!
I'm not certain he can hear you like I can, Legolas said. Elrohir grunted in acknowledgement that he had heard the blond.
Elladan roused, sensing their presence. In his pain, his first response was to lash out and he nearly slit Legolas in half with his blade, the prince barely dancing out of his range in time. Elrohir moved back before his twin could turn to go for him as well. For a moment, the injured elf just looked around, trembling and panting. The two wolves belatedly remembered that he would be unable to see them in the dark and probably wouldn't trust them even if he could see them.
After a minute, Elladan called out tentatively. "Hello?"
It's just us, Elrohir called.
How would he know who we are from a simple telepathic call?
Doesn't matter. You were right. He can't hear us, Elrohir sighed.
He needs help.
I know. But I don't know how to get it to him. We can't talk to anyone, and even if we got someone to chase us out here, we'd never make the trip without being shot. Assuming that he even survived that long, Elrohir groaned, distraught.
No guts, no glory, right?
Before Elrohir could ask what he meant, Legolas charged in, nearly catching the business end of Elladan's sword again. He nuzzled the elf and whimpered, playing the perfect pet dog routine. Elrohir snorted, amused with the ploy. It was even funnier since Elladan seemed to buy it, raising his free hand to pet the blond.
"Big one, aren't you?" Elladan said, looping one arm around Legolas' shoulders to help himself sit up. "Who's your friend?" He looked in Elrohir's general direction. "Come."
Come? Elrohir asked, blinking.
Get over here. He needs to calm down a bit. No use scaring him, Legolas said. Elrohir let loose a guttural chuckle, but moved over to his twin, letting his brother pet him for a few seconds before shrugging off the strange touch.
"Lay down," Elladan told Legolas, deeming him the tamer of the two.
Yes, boy. Lay down like a good dog, Elrohir taunted.
Shut up, Legolas returned. As Elladan ordered, he flattened himself to the ground, unsure of what the elf wanted. He was shocked when his friend pulled himself onto his back as though he were a horse, lying along the length of his spine.
"Go home," Elladan ordered.
Ah, I see now, Legolas said. He's been here for awhile and can't walk. He needs to be carried back. Never imagined that he'd try this.
How does he even know where your home is? You could head anywhere.
I don't think he cares at this point, Legolas said. Who knows how long he's been out here? He grunted with the effort of standing up under the elf's weight, but managed it after a bit of struggling. Trying to keep his movements smooth, he started a careful lope towards Rivendell, Elrohir falling in beside him automatically. Elladan passed out again after a few minutes, causing the two elfin wolves to worry immensely.
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Legolas was panting, exhausted, when Elladan finally regained consciousness. Sensing the movement, he moved to the side of the trail and gently wilted to the earth, rolling sideways to spill the elf onto his uninjured side. The sun had risen a few degrees up the horizon, spilling light onto the trio.
He awake yet? Legolas huffed.
I think so.
"Good… dog," Elladan said, his compliment trailing off when he eyed the two former elves. His silver eyes widened in wonderment. "You're wolves. Who would train wolves?"
Who indeed? Elrohir commented, amused.
I give him less than twenty seconds to get it, Legolas teased.
Odds?
First dibs on the next buck.
You're on.
It was very close as to who won the bet. Elladan stared at Legolas for a moment, a bit startled by his unusual coloration, both in the color of his fur and eyes. He glanced at Elrohir seconds later and recoiled visibly. Understanding dawned in his eyes, accompanied by fear and heartbreak.
"Elrohir? Legolas?" he asked hesitantly, disbelievingly, voice so soft that he could barely hear himself. Both former elves inclined their heads in recognition. "Sweet Eru… it can't be…"
Elrohir was the first to move, laying one paw on his twin's wrist when he unwittingly reached for his sword. He flinched away, gray eyes filling with tears. When Legolas flanked him, offering his shoulder again, Elladan broke down, his tears finally overflowing and spilling glittering tracks down his cheeks. Elrohir collected his brother up in one forelimb, pulling his twin to him. The elf willingly wilted into the wolf's arms, trembling.
"I thought you were dead," he breathed. Belatedly, he reached out and drew Legolas into the hug, the blond accepting the embrace without hesitation. He gripped Legolas fiercely. "Can you stop this?" Legolas hesitated, knowing what the elf was asking but wondering how much influence he had in the war.
I can try, Legolas said, knowing that the elf couldn't hear him. He rotated his head to indicate that he could not answer the question. He didn't know if he still had the ability to influence his father. Elladan seemed not to understand the answer and he redirected his line of questioning to a yes-no format.
"Can you understand me?"
Legolas nodded. Elladan stepped up his questioning with renewed respect for his understanding.
"Do you know why your father started a war?"
He shook his head, not knowing the events that led to war but not overly surprised that it was his father that had initiated it.
"He blamed Elrohir and Elrond for what happened to you," Elladan told Legolas. The blond shifted, averting his gaze and wilting slightly. Seeing the prince's reaction, he leaned forward and embraced his comrade. "I'm so sorry…"
Not your fault my father has a temper, Legolas said. Elrohir nudged him away from his brother and laid down. Taking the hint, Elladan rolled onto his back, letting his twin carry him to allow the blond to have a rest.
Lets get him home, Elrohir said, grunting when he got to his feet. You're right. He's going on a diet.
Ah, but then he'd lose the gut that you two still seem to have in common, Legolas said, taking the opportunity to lighten the mood.
Hey!
Elladan looked thoroughly bewildered when the two wolves both started laughing.
It took a few days of travel and repeated alterations of who carried Elladan before the trio arrived in Rivendell. Most of the first day had passed by before he understood that the two wolves were communicating by telepathy. The two considerately never ate in front of him, sure that he wouldn't appreciate the sight. They did bring back things for him a few times, but he refused to touch anything they had killed, fearing infection.
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It was the dead of night when they arrived at the Last Homely Home. Legolas was taking his turn at carrying the injured elf.
"Take me to the infirmary. Father spends most of his time there since the war began," Elladan said.
Where is the infirmary? Legolas asked.
Just follow me, Elrohir said, leading the way.
By unspoken agreement, they stopped outside of the entrance, staying out of sight. Elladan shakily stood up on one leg, leaning heavily against the wall. His injuries and lack of sustenance over the course of several days had weakened him severely.
"Just wait in my room. I'll break the situation to Ada gently," Elladan said.
No way are we staying in the city! Legolas protested. We'll be slaughtered.
This war was started because of us, Elrohir said firmly. We're staying.
We need to convince my father to knock it off, not yours.
We need my father so we can approach yours without being shot.
Fair enough, but I'm not sure he's going to be able to help with that particular difficulty, Legolas capitulated. He followed Elrohir when the sable wolf ran for his twin's room. Elladan waited until they were gone before he hopped into the infirmary, eyes immediately latching onto his father.
"Ada," he called. Elrond turned, eyes widening at the sight of his son. Elladan was a mess, thoroughly covered in dried blood and his leg twisted at a weird angle. Even then, Elrond had never looked so relieved.
"You're alive," he breathed. "I thought your troop had been killed."
"It was," Elladan said, accepting the help when Elrond looped an arm around him and led him to a chair. "I'm the only one that survived."
"How did you get back?" Elrond pressed, knowing that he couldn't have walked and not having heard any hoof beats outside. He paused in checking his son's leg when he didn't get an answer immediately. "Elladan?"
"I had help," the twin responded. "I was found and carried back."
"By who?" Elrond asked, looking irritated. "Where is he? He shouldn't have left you."
"They're waiting elsewhere to speak to us," Elladan answered evasively, wincing when Elrond touched his broken leg.
"Sorry," Elrond said reflexively, hating the fact that he had to cause his patients pain in order to help them. "Why did they deem it necessary to abandon you?"
"They feared an adverse reaction to their presence," Elladan answered honestly.
"Whatever for? Are they Silvan?"
"One of them is."
"And the other?"
"Doesn't look like your average elf," Elladan said, still evading details. Elrond noted his behavior and frowned.
"Who are they?" he asked bluntly.
"I'll tell you after you've set my leg," Elladan said. Grunting in response, Elrond did just that, apologizing again when his son swayed, lightheaded. He strapped a splint in place and glared sternly at his son.
"Who?" he asked again. Elladan took an unsteady breath before answering.
"Elrohir and Legolas," he finally said. Elrond went dangerously still.
"They're both alive?" he asked tersely. Elladan nodded once. His lip curled. "Where are they?"
"They need our help," Elladan said, again avoiding answering.
"I will not allow those creatures…"
"They're in full possession of their facultative capabilities," Elladan interrupted stiffly. "And it's hardly their fault what happened."
"Indeed," Elrond murmured contemplatively. The news that his other son was alive and mentally fit stunned him beyond words. Knowing that they had lived as animals for over a year confused him. Elves could not live in such conditions, but the pair had somehow managed. Elrond's countenance softened. "Are they hurt?"
Elladan wilted visibly in relief at his father's surrender. "No. They're fine." He looked away. "In fact, they seem… content."
Elrond nodded, dropping his gaze to the splinted leg. "Where are they?"
"You won't hurt them?" Elladan asked hesitantly, knowing what had transpired between his father and brother at their last encounter.
"No," Elrond said immediately.
"They're in my quarters," Elladan said, trusting his response.
"Very well," Elrond muttered, helping his son to his feet. Inwardly annoyed at the slow hobbling pace, he swept his son up into his arms, carrying him while ignoring the dirty look that his actions earned him.
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Glorfindel was conversing with Erestor when the wolves passed by in the hall silently, both tensing and reaching for their weapons when they spotted the pair. Not realizing that they had been seen, the duo continued their trek to Elladan's room, unaware that two warriors were following them. Erestor and Glorfindel knew who they were and what had happened to them, but not that they were lucid. Their last standing orders had been to kill them both on sight.
Both elves recognized the wolves, knowing who they were. Not knowing that they were still competent, they charged the room, swords drawn. The two wolves dodged admirably for several seconds before Glorfindel managed to clip Legolas with the tip of his blade, slitting his side from shoulder to hip. Crying out, the blond faltered, leaving him vulnerable to the attacking elves. Erestor was quick to close in, thrusting his blade down in an overhand maneuver that skewered the golden wolf.
In agony, Legolas collapsed, fiery pain leeching out from the hole in his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed reflexively and he shuddered, wilting to the floor. He curled into a ball on his side, fighting to breathe. He couldn't understand why the two elves didn't close in and finish him off, his mind foggy from pain. It was something of a shock when he noticed that Erestor's sword was still lodged through him and confusing when he realized that all three of the other figures in the room were staring at him with wide eyes.
Legolas? Elrohir asked in disbelief.
Sweet Eru, this hurts, Legolas said distractedly. He curled one arm to his chest, fingers lacing around the protruding blade. He went very still, eyes widening. Fingers?
Regaining his elfin form was the only thing that saved Legolas' life, shock holding Glorfindel from turning his blade on either of the two younger elves. A naked bloody elf was not a common sight and it stayed their hands just long enough for Elrond and Elladan to come into the scene. Erestor found himself with an armful of elf when Elrond stuffed his injured son into his hands to free up his own.
"Out of the way," Elrond said reflexively, trying to examine the wound despite his patient being curled up around it.
"Ro…" Legolas managed in a hoarse voice. Elrohir moved to his side at the short nickname, not protesting the touch when Legolas curled one fist forcefully in his fur. Tasting blood from his airways, he gave up trying to speak aloud. Tense your muscles.
What? Elrohir asked, confused.
Tense. I know how to turn back, Legolas said. He was desperate to relay the information in case he didn't survive.
I don't know what you're referring to, Elrohir said. How…
Legolas lashed out with his mind, pressing into the raven wolf's thoughts. Elrohir allowed him full access, grunting in pain when fire raced through him. Much more slowly than Legolas had managed it, his appearance started to twist, punctuating the room with several loud pops. He finally understood and took over. It was so intrinsic to his very being that he had never even felt out the sensation. It was the warmth in his skin, the gentle pulsation of his heart, the sweet feel of oxygen in his lungs. A slightly muffled feeling fell over him and he latched onto it mercilessly. It was rapture. It was agony. It was his very essence of his life. Legolas had lashed out blindly at the mortal wound he had taken, but Elrohir was forced to think of what he was doing.
The sight he presented to his audience was nothing short of spectacular. In Legolas' mental grip, he writhed, shimmering in the darkened room. What seemed like eternity for him was only a few seconds, his fur receding and body restructuring rapidly. Long hair spilled down his shoulders and back. Elrohir gasped, half falling over. It took him several seconds to reorient himself enough to stagger to his feet, and even then he swayed at the long forgotten feeling of holding himself upright.
Elrond tried not to stare, not to cry in elation. His millennia of work barely gave him the steadiness to keep his attention on his patient. Later, after the blond was stabilized, he would throw a party and get very, very, very drunk.
"The sword has to come out," Elrond said, carefully gripping the hilt. He held his breath while he carefully drew it out, sympathetically wincing when Legolas tensed, throwing his head back.
"What are you three doing watching?" Elrohir barked. He wasn't surprised that his voice was just as hoarse as Legolas' had been. A year of not speaking wasn't conducive to vocal clarity. "Either help my father get Legolas to the infirmary or start bringing medical supplies here!"
"That… won't be necessary," Elrond said before anyone could move to obey or do more than gawk in surprise. His eyes were glued to Legolas' chest. The wound had already stopped bleeding. "Legolas?"
Cerulean eyes turned to him. "What?"
"Concentrate on your injury," Elrond said.
The blond glared, not wanting to think about the potentially mortal blow that had downed him. He did as asked, trying to sense the full scope of the stab wound. There was a collective gasp around the room and Legolas finally looked down at the injury with shocked blue eyes. It was closed and mostly healed.
"Control… it's a matter of control," Legolas said to himself. His eyes clouded over a little and he pressed, not entirely sure what he was doing. The stab wound almost vanished, leaving the faintest mark on the otherwise flawless flesh. He turned to the deep laceration down his side. The clean edges wavered and the mark disappeared in seconds. He couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.
"Incredible," Elrond murmured. He had been hoping for some degree of help in staunching the wound, but he had never imagined that the blond was all but untouchable to injury.
"Although I'm sure you're all stunned and amazed by recent events, I must insist on pants," Elrohir interjected, relief restoring his sense of humor. Motioning, Elladan convinced Erestor to put him down and assist him across the room to retrieve and extra clothes from his closet for the two nude elves.
"I simply wish to know how long you've been able to perform this act," Glorfindel said. "Because if I find out that you could have shifted in time to prevent me from striking you down, I'm going to stab you again out of principle."
"Technically, Erestor stabbed me," Legolas, gripping Elrond's shoulder to sit up. Erestor threw a towel at his head. He caught it swiped at the blood on his side. "But no, this is the first time we've managed."
"You were an animal," Erestor said in his defense. "Our last orders were to kill you both."
"What now?" Elrohir asked, dressing quickly.
"I would suggest that the two of you be quarantined," Elrond said. "In the morning, we ride to Mirkwood to negotiate a cessation of hostilities between our people." He studied the dressing prince with level eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Lightheaded, but fine," Legolas said. "A little sticky, I'm afraid. Sadly enough, I didn't even get to perform the normal necessary acts that lead to such a condition." The dirty comment earned him a snort from Elrohir and vaguely mortified looks from the rest of the room as they unintentionally pictured bouts of furry passion.
"Glorfindel, please tell a servant to ready a bath," Elrond said, the first to recover from the frightening mental imagery. The blond warrior nodded and stepped out of the room. "Erestor, take Elladan to guest quarters."
"What's wrong with mine?" Elladan asked.
"Your floor is covered in blood. Until it has been properly cleaned and sterilized, you should not be in here," Elrond said. "It's possible that Elrohir and Legolas may still be contagious."
"May?" Elrohir asked, quick to jump on the hesitation.
"I've done some research in the year you were gone," Elrond admitted. "The changes done to your bodies will be permanent, but the virus responsible may have been destroyed by your own natural resistance to diseases. I will have to test you both to be certain."
"How would we do that?" Legolas asked.
"We could just find someone we don't like and bite them. See what happens," Elrohir suggested in a perfectly serious voice.
"Ah, may I then recommend Erestor?" Legolas said. The dark-haired advisor glared at him and he responded with a smirk.
"No one's biting anyone," Elrond said in frustration. "All I need is a serum sample."
"Serum?"
"Blood," Elrond clarified. "I'll collect samples from both of you in the morning. For now, feel free to wash up and rest. Erestor, take Elladan to the guest room now. Elladan, quit arguing and go. Elrohir, go to your room and do something with Legolas."
Elrond departed to prepare for the morning. The elfin witch Galadriel had delivered a vial of a potion to him a month ago at his request. Combined with blood, it would glow brightly blue if the virus was present. If not, gold. It was a wonderful thing to have a sorceress among one's resources.
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To Be Continued…
R&R! Do it. Doooo iiiiit.