THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for all the awesome reviews! I'm amazed and utterly thrilled! :) As a reward for all of you, I made this chapter the longest one so far, lol. Keep reviewing, I LOVE to hear what everyone has to say, lol! :)
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An hour after resuming their journey back to his home, Aragorn stopped to check Legolas' wound. The bleeding had finally slowed, but still trickled steadily.
Aragorn's hands shook as he studied the injury, wishing that he knew whether or not he'd caused any internal damage. He knew that if the bleeding stopped soon, his friend would not bleed to death—thanks to his elven healing ability—but if there was serious internal damage, his body would not be able to heal it…and he would die.
I caused this…Closing his eyes, Aragorn dropped his face into one hand. You can't die Legolas…I will take my own life if I cause your death!
Thunder suddenly rumbled, and Aragorn grew so angry at the sound that he wanted to kill something. Mayhap you already have…The thought caused an actual physical pain to manifest in his chest, and he quickly rewrapped Legolas' wound and lifted his friend again, quickly walking on.
Thunder sounded again, but this time it was softer. Aagorn sighed with immense relief when he realized that this new storm was moving away from them…towards Rivendell, in fact.
Does my family realize that I am missing? he wondered. Did I let anyone know that I'd planned to return by nightfall? He knew that it was unlikely, for naturally he and his brothers came and went as they pleased. He knew that Elrond—ever paternal, despite his son's ages—often checked their rooms to be sure that they were safely in their beds at night before he himself went to sleep, but it wasn't unusual for one or more of them to not be home until very late.
Thinking of his father, the human smiled. Aragorn always pretended to be asleep when he heard the slight creak of his bedroom door when Elrond looked in on him. Despite his age, Aragorn didn't feel annoyed at his father's action, for he knew how dangerous it was to live in these times. Evil seemed to be everywhere, and Aragorn knew that he ended up in the middle of it often enough for his father to worry; especially since he was mortal, unlike his brothers and father. With a sigh, Aragorn wondered how they would take it when the inevitable day of his death arrived.
Death…Aragorn looked down at his friend, feeling the shivers that still wracked the elf's thin body. "You are immortal, Legolas!" he exclaimed. "You cannot die before me!"
As expected, Legolas made no reply.
Sighing, Aragorn walked faster, again wondering if his family knew that he was missing. He desperately hoped that they did, so that they would start a search. Legolas would get to Rivendell faster that way, on one of his brother's horses.
Looking up at the sky, Aragorn wondered what time it was. It was too cloudy to see the moon and stars, so he had to rely on his instinct, which told him that it had to be around midnight. He wished that it was later, for the sooner his brothers found them, the sooner Legolas would get the help that he so desperately needed.
Another thought suddenly struck Aragorn, with enough force that he stopped walking. If my brothers start a search, that band of orcs will ambush them! They will be killed while looking for me! I will have killed my best friend, and my brothers…
Shifting the unconscious elf in his arms, Aragorn tried to walk even faster, now not wanting his brothers to have to search for him. His heart pounded with anxiety, as it seemed that no matter what happened, someone was going to die.
I am the one who deserves death, he thought. I am the cause of this entire situation! Legolas, my father, and brothers should not have to suffer for this!
Suddenly Legolas gasped, making Aragorn stop. "Legolas?" he exclaimed, trying to get a good look at him in the dark.
Legolas made no further sound, apparently still unconscious.
The fact that the elf was reacting to pain even while out cold disturbed Aragorn greatly, and his emotions nearly got the better of him as he continued walking.
After another half-hour, Aragorn stopped to check Legolas' wound again, and found that the bleeding had slowed further. He wished it had stopped completely, for the elf had lost a tremendous amount of blood. Aragorn knew that moving Legolas around so much could prevent the bleeding from stopping, but he had no choice; if he didn't get the elf to his father, Legolas truly could die.
Feeling Legolas' pulse, Aragorn found to his dismay that his heartbeat had become erratic. The elf's shivering had intensified, and Aragorn knew that he might have to stop the journey soon or risk his friend's life.
Looking around himself, he saw that he was still quite a distance from home. If only I'd brought a horse! he lamented.
Sighing, Aragorn remained where he sat for a minute. Though Legolas was very light, the human's arms were hurting from carrying his friend for so long. I must ignore it and continue…he thought, gently picking Legolas up once more.
Walking on, Aragorn concentrated so much on his pace that he didn't notice that the elf's body was warmer…growing too warm. A half-hour passed quickly, and Aragorn was about to stop to check Legolas' wound again when the elf suddenly moaned.
"Legolas?" Aragorn said, laying him on the ground. "Open your eyes, mellon-nin!" he said, thinking that his friend was waking.
Legolas didn't obey or reply, breathing heavily, pain clearly showing on his face as he moved weakly, restlessly.
Concerned, Aragorn felt his forehead, finding that Legolas' quick elven healing had thankfully done away with the shock…but now he had a fever.
Groaning in frustration—and fear—Aragorn wasn't surprised at this turn of events. Legolas' body had suffered major trauma; it wasn't out of the question for a serious wound of this nature to cause a fever, even in an elf. He was, however, surprised that it had happened so quickly and sighed, seeing that the wound was obviously even worse than he'd thought.
Feeling his friend's forehead again, Aragorn found it to be hotter than he liked. Sighing again loudly, he looked up at the now starlit sky. We cannot go any further, he realized. He closed his eyes, knowing that the lives of his father and brothers were now at stake.
Legolas suddenly groaned, and Aragorn put a hand on his arm, whispering softly in elvish, hoping to calm him. It didn't work, as Legolas moaned again and gasped.
Unwrapping the wound, Aragorn saw to his relief that the bleeding was nearly stopped, finally. With the light of the moon finally shining, Aragorn could truly see the extent of the injury, and he was horrified to now see the reason for his friend's quick fever.
He'd twisted the knife.
A knot grew in his stomach at the sight, as he knew that his action likely caused worse internal damage then a simple stab wound. Legolas' physical body was overloaded with the stress of the injury, and was showing it with the fever.
Getting to his feet, Aragorn managed to find some wood that wasn't too wet, and he quickly started a fire and desperately looked around for any herbs that would help his friend. He no longer needed anything to stop the bleeding, as it was now mostly stopped, but all he found was the painkilling herbs that he already had with him—herbs that would need to be given while Legolas was awake, or it would prolong his unconsciousness.
Going back to his friend, he took out his waterskin, wetting a cloth and placing it on the elf's forehead.
At the touch, Legolas weakly turned his head towards the ranger, eyes still closed.
Aragorn checked his friend's pulse again, with a shaking hand. He was still stunned over the whole situation, and berated himself for lashing out before being sure of his target's identity.
Target…Aragorn thought, dropping his face into his hand. Legolas became my target! Sighing loudly, anger began to overwhelm him; anger at the foul orcs, for whom most of the blame belonged.
Orcs…the orcs who will be attacking my family mere hours from now!
Jumping to his feet, Aragorn began to pace, anxiety not allowing him to sit still as he wondered what he would find when he arrived home the next day.
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If the hours before dawn were terrible for Aragorn, they were torture for Legolas. The elf's fever had grown very high—higher than Aragorn expected—and Legolas became delirious. Aragorn gently but forcefully held Legolas down, stopping his restless movements. The human was terrified that the stab wound would reopen; Legolas had lost too much blood already.Legolas continued to moan and gasp, never opening his eyes, his face deathly pale. He occasionally muttered something in Elvish, but it was usually too soft or too incoherent for Aragorn to understand the words.
As daylight approached, Legolas seemed to calm. Most likely, his body had grown too exhausted to fight.
Aragorn quickly set off again, hoping that Legolas would remain quiet for the rest of the journey…he wanted to get home as soon as possible; not only to get help for his friend, but to see if there was anything left of his family and home.
When he was less than an hour from the house, Aragorn suddenly heard voices. Stopping, he thought he imagined them, but they grew louder.
Can it be? he thought. It's not possible…the orcs…
"ESTEL!"Aragorn gasped at the sound. "Elladan?"
"ESTEL! Where are you?" Elladan called again, his Elvish hearing having heard his brother's voice.
"Here! We're here!" Aragorn exclaimed, quickening his pace. He heard the sound of two horses, and saw both his brothers riding towards him.
"You said 'we', brother?" Elladan said, stopping his horse and jumping down at the sight of the burden in Aragorn's arms.
"What has Legolas gotten into this time?!" Elrohir said, also dismounting. "How did he get here?"
Aragorn shook his head. "No time for talk, he needs to get to father now!"
Elladan heard the desperation in his brother's tone and said nothing further, quickly remounting his horse and holding out his arms.
Elrohir took Legolas from Aragorn and passed him up to Elladan, who quickly settled their injured friend in front of himself and rode off.
Turning back to his brother, Elrohir saw that he was no longer there; the human was pulling himself into the saddle of the other horse and Elrohir quickly grabbed the reins. "Leave without me and you shall regret it!"
Aragorn gave him a slight smile, motioning for Elrohir to hurry.
"Now," said the elf, as they followed after Elladan. "What happened?"
Aragorn hesitated. How could he tell them the truth behind Legolas' injury? "Orcs…" he said, with a sigh. "Orcs."
