A/N: I hope you all had a brilliant Christmas and New Year... I know I did,
though am kinda paying for it now! Now, sorry to say it folks, but come
January, for a couple of weeks I will not be able to think about posting or
writing or anything. Exams ahoy, I'm afraid. Hopefully this'll get put out
before then (and if not, then it's a little late and you have my
apologies). But seriously, I have tons of revision to do and coursework to
catch up on and... y'know... stuff I actually have to *LEARN* from
scratch... so there mught be a fairly long span between this post and the
next... or there might have just been a long span... sorry, it can't be
helped.
In any case, a lot of you have been telling me to 'hurry up and finish it' and that you 'can't wait for it to end'... now, I assume you all meant it in the nicest possible way, but.... Lol, I'm just messing with you! But, sad to say, this story has nearly reached it's end (believe it or not, it was only supposed to be a short story that lasted a couple of weeks! I went off-track a little...). I can't image how I'm gonna deal with not having this story to write all the time... lol, it's a life-changer! Anway, on to reader-responses... if you not in the bit immediately following this, then you're almost certainly gonna be at the end... though I seriously cannot reply to everyone, I appreciate your view very *VERY* much!
Wildfire: Sorry, I don;t think the twins'll be in this story... I will, however, as a consolation prize, make references towards them and have the characters in this story talk about them. Will that do?
Isadora: Hope you had a happy birthday. I seem to have a mental-block when it comes to making Thranduil stern... I can't even make him seem a little stand-offish - I love him too much! Seriously, I adore him as a character but fear I might have made him a little too... typical, if you know what I mean. I have attempted in this chapter to put across how he could seem so serious and more than a little bit frightening, but I think I may have failed! Lol... I still love writing him as a kind, loving character though, and I'm not gonna stop! And the thing with his affection for Estel - it seems to me that the families in Mirkwood and Rivendell have been friends for a long, *long* time, and are all connected together and he feels the same for Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen... plus, how could anyone not love Aragorn?!
emma: No, I will not change what I wrote - that Legolas is smaller than Aragorn and the ranger's clothes are too big for him. Almost everything I write and put into my stories are there for good reason. Perhaps we just differ from our perceptions of Legolas, and I respect that... but when I think of him, I think of a young elf who is very lithe and energetic or to put it in a sickeningly-descriptive way 'Like a young willow tree, thin but strong, rising up into the sunlight...' blah blah. And Aragorn is going to grow up as a mighty King, he's a warrior who had already faced a lot in his young life. And seventeen year olds can be big! I understand your reasoning that elves are mighty and strong etc. but I don't think that all elves have to have the same physical structure, and I am merely writing and decribing what *I* alone think - not suggesting for a moment that it is the general rule. That's why I have Thranduil's hair as dark, Legolas with eight siblings and a mother poisoned by a spider bite... that's why I have Legolas with green eyes... it's merely how *I* percieve it all, and I ask you to please respect that and not ask me to change things that I have purposefully included in my story. But thankyou for your review and I hope you continue to read my story and review it. I welcome stuff like that.
Elainor: Welcome and thankyou very much for your reviews. I personally restrained myself with the bear as I thought you'd all get a bit sick of me continuously injuring our beloved Legolas and Aragorn!
Beth: *SIGH*... well, I *suppose*... if you really want more fellowship stuff, I'll make a whole lot of effort and... Lol, only kidding. I love writing about the fellowship and you can rest asurred that there is a lot in the pipeline and coming your way. And, to be perfectly honest, you are a wonderfully delightful reviewer and I had to give you acknowledgement for it! Sorry to embarrass you and all... lol. And as for the references... I can't help it! My mind becomes full of all these ideas of things that have happened to the characters before we met them and I can't help but write them down!
marbienl: Yes, I said there'd be Thranduil/Aragorn interaction and I keep my promises! Secretly, I absolutely adore writing anything with Thranduil in so couldn't help myself! As for Aragorn being thin but heavy... I think that was a mistake on my part, but let's just say it was intentional and I imagine the ranger as... dense? Lol. As for the #Legolas is as tough as old boots# line - yes it *was* a reference to 'Bootstraps' and I am so happy that at least one person picked up on it! Very clever... I got pirates as an early Cristmas present and I adore it! Well done for realising! And the whole thing about Aragorn being the one to draw Legolas' spirit is me - rather bluntly - paving the way to saying that he will become a great healer. And please don't not (double negative, I am fully aware) put in your inklings and ideas about where I'm going with things etc. They give me ideas and lets me know that you're on the ball! I don't really understand what you mean about feeling more regret than guilt... I think I know what you mean but... please take the time out to explain it to me in your next review and I'll tell you! Cheers.
Anyway, sorry and I hope you like! Quick note, this is a chapter really comprised of vignettes and short scenes depicting the rocky road to recovery and feelings of other characters etc. They are all in order, but don't necessarily run smoothly from one another. The next chapter, though, I can assure you, is as one bit. With barely any shifting... stuff. = Ha, how eloquent am I? When's that English exam....?
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Lord Elrond had to practically run to keep up with Fienngil as the Star Prince raced ahead of him. The dark-haired lord had arrived at the Mirkwood palace only a few moments beforehand to find Fienngil waiting for him, buzzing with nervousness. Fienngil had only acknowledged Elrond with a dip of his fair head before he had whirled and strode off, leaving the exhausted twins, who had not rested in about four days, quickly behind him. Elrond had not been told the condition of either his son or Legolas - Andariun and Arianduil had been panicked when they had arrived in Rivendell, and all they could tell him was that neither showed any signs of waking - and so it was no small wonder that his heart beat wildly in his chest when he thought of the potential condition of the two young beings.
They rounded a corner, and came upon an odd scene. In the corridor - with the door they were gathered about closed stubbornly off to them - was almost all of the Mirkwood Royal children, sitting on the floor or in the deep window sill opposite the oaken-door, or stood and leaning against the wall. As soon as they saw him, Esladiya and Aricesla jumped from the window sill and ran to hug their godfather; Niandias and Ithilmir flashed him a greatful, relieved smiles; Evylenn kept her respectful distance, not really that familiar with the Lord of Imladris and a little intimidated by him, and Tusinduil, nodding to the closed door, told him, "They're in there." The Royal children were not allowed to enter the room, for reasons the King was keeping to himself.
Elrond did not pause and opened the door, stepping into a heated room. The first thing to jump to his attention was his youngest son, sitting next to the large bed, wrapped all up in blankets that swathed his shoulders and dwarfed his figure. Aragorn, realising his father had finally come to aid them, jumped up at once, blankets falling to the floor about him, and immediately barrelled into the elven lord, almost hidden in the hug which Elrond gave him, who was busy thanking the Valar that his child was alive and awake. The elf briefly forgot that only half of his worries were eased - so happy he was that Aragorn seemed to be fine - and for a minute could not understand why the ranger's body suddenly heaved with barely-controlled sobs in his arms, but he was sharply reminded that all was not as well as it seemed when his eyes caught sight of Legolas and he discovered the reason for his son's upset.
The fair prince was caught up in spasms of pain, agony rippling through him as his elven body fought to restart and repair itself, to try and recover from the drastic shut-down state it had previously been in. He was captured repeatedly by acute knife-stabs in his abdomen which curled his body protectively in on itself; and a pin-like, continuous sensation of needles pricking all the muscles of his body made Legolas writhe where he lay to try and evade it, twisting the sheets of his bed into knots. There was a heavy aching in his chest, his heart and lungs labouring constantly to keep going and not simply give up as they had done so many times before, which made Legolas gasp in pain and his hand periodically clutch at the deep neckline of his night-shirt, as if trying to grasp the troublesome organs and prevent them from hurting him so; and a fire seemed to swell inside his skull, fevering his brow and making his loose golden hair stick to his neck with salty moisture, ensuring that he never fully reached consciousness and was now very rarely in a lucid world. He writhed and shook, gasped and let out half-screams and weak moans of agony.
Elrond felt his eyes widen as he looked upon the sorry state, and he breathed in sharply, pain assaulting his heart all of a sudden. He glanced up, and met the helpless gaze of the King of Mirkwood who stood, hand leaving his child's back. Thranduil smiled weakly, and his bluey-grey eyes softened at the sight of his good friend. "Mellon nin," he said, and moved to embrace the elven lord, "thank Iluvatar you have come."
"What happened?" asked Elrond, hugging him swiftly then moving away to fix him with a concerned eye.
"There is a lot to explain... Legolas' body had almost shut down when your - might I say here - brilliant and extremely talented son," despite himself, it was here that Thranduil shot a favourably-amused glance at Aragorn, "drew him from it... Now, my healers are as capable as any others, but you are far more experienced with this sort of condition than they, and they have... " Thranduil swallowed the hard lump of something that had collected in the back of his throat, "... *refrained* from doing anything to help my son because they were unsure of themselves and thought it best to let you handle the situation." The King could feel his temper rising, though he knew it was no fault of Lord Elrond's that his son was suffering, and he fought to restrain himself - it was just so hard to see his youngest child in pain, and it tore at his heart so that he was desperate for Elrond to start, to help Legolas. He cleared his throat completely, and decided it would be diplomatic not to look at the Head Healer, Felrofin, who stood silently in the corner of the room, so instead carried on, "Forgive me, but please do something to help him... *anything*."
Elrond nodded kindly, understanding how hard it must be for his good friend to stand by, totally helpless, whilst Legolas was suffering. He moved towards the bed, and sat down upon it, careful not to jar the prince. First things were first, and he reached out a gentle hand and placed it upon Legolas' hot forehead. Immediately, the archer went limp, all of his jerking movements ceasing at once. "Adar, what did you do?" asked Aragorn at once, starry grey eyes wide and slightly panicked at the reaction of his best friend.
"Do not fret, I have merely suspended the connection between mind and body for a brief while, just so I can assess him without causing him further damage."
"Could you keep him like that?" asked Thranduil, frowing and trying not to wince at the labourious, harsh breathing of his son: it sounded as though the very breath the unconscious Legolas inhaled grated his lungs and choked him, for even though he was now still, his breath stuttered and wheezed. It had been that way before, but now Legolas was motionless, Thranduil noticed his breathing even more. "Without pain I mean...?"
Lord Elrond shook his dark head regretfully, "I am afraid not, this state can only be temporary else the effects of it end up being far more damaging than the initial injury." ~Having said that~ he mentally added as he gently unwound the bandage and splint from Legolas' right upper arm and shoulder ~this injury couldn't get *much* worse~ The wound was still very ugly, though the Mirkwood healers had apparently done a fine job with the surgery, and setting the obviously broken bone. Elrond looked at Felrofin, who he had met numerous times before when his son and Legolas had done harm to themselves, as seemed to be their wont. "Could you please tell me the condition of the wound, and what you treated it with?"
Felrofin at once stood straighter, and his hands unconsciously came crossed in front of him, as though her were a small elfling school-child, being told to stand in front of the class and recite a song. "Yes, my lord... it was a first-degree Warg wound: the bone of the prince's upper arm was broken very badly and uncleanly, yet we managed to remove all splinters of bone from it, making doubly sure there were none left behind. But I am afraid that the muscle of the upper arm are torn in many places, and in this case, a lot of the main muscle has been ripped fully away from the bone. We treated this specific part of the wound with Emsill and Relroot paste, and set the bone to heal properly... and that's all we could really do- "
"You have done well," Elrond assured the healer with a small smile. "No infection," though the wound was still raw and ugly, it was clear to the healer of Rivendell that it was not actually inflamed. Satisfied, he nodded once more, "Legolas will need to put a lot of work into building the strength of his right arm back up again."
"But that is the arm he shoots and fights with, not to mention writes and plays the flute with," Aragorn could not hold back this strangled claim as he stumbled towards his father, tripping rather ungracefully over the blankets he had dropped earlier and forgotten about. "Will he be able to... you know, carry on?" It would be devastating to the archer if he were to lose the use of his main arm - of course, it would not stop him in a sword fight (Aragorn was confident that Legolas could take on any orc coming at him with *both* hands tied behind his back), but he would never be able to fire an arrow again... and this would knock the wind out of him for definate.
Elrond comforted his son with a smile and a nod, beginning to re-wrap the damaged limb, which had begun shaking again, "If he works at it, the dexterity of the hand and the power of it's grip will only suffer a slight deficiency... which is utterly understandable," he added after seeing the expressions that flickered across Aragorn and Thranduil's faces. "Once he's completed all the physiotherapy I'm planning to throw his way, it will not really effect his ability in a fight or hinder the execution of anything he wants to do all that much... and, if I know Legolas, this one set-back will not deter him any - he'll be fine."
Thranduil did not look entirely convinced, but he did nod, wanting desperately to take comfort in the words of his friend and to find a hope at the end of the whole sorry state. Aragorn, however, always believed everything his father said, and so did not even begin to question what he had been told. He grinned slightly with relief.
"Other than the wound, though - is he... is he all right?" asked the King, still worried by the harshness of his son's breath.
Elrond hid his smile: if only Legolas was awake to see how tender his father's thoughts were for him, and how much he loved him with every pulse of his heart. Elrond had, many times, been the one to listen to Legolas as he poured out his insecurities and worries onto welcome ears... the Lord knew that the proud young prince very rarely went to anyone with his problems, not liking to let them know he had any weaknesses at all, but Elrond, after a long period of time, had managed to attain the prized position of being the person Legolas came to when troubled. And it seemed that most of the prince's worry, indecision or alternative fury - general upset, really - came from the source of his father, through one reason or another, but usually coming down to accidental bad communication between the two. But Elrond had just caught a glimpse of the amount of love his good friend held for his youngest son, and all he could say was that it was purely breathtaking.
Checking once more that Legolas was unconscious by placing his hand to the flushed forehead once more, Elrond gently turned the young prince over onto his side, pushing a little upon his narrow back until the archer's fair head lolled forward on his pillow and golden hair fell down one side of the bed. He then pushed the light, green shirt the prince was wearing up to expose a skinny back, bathed in sweat and heated to touch: Lord Elrond grimaced slightly as he pressed his pointed ear a little left of the jutting spine of Greenleaf's back. Thranduil and Aragorn watched, anxious as the Lord frowned as he listened intently. After a while Elrond straightened, pulling down the light shirt to cover the pale back once more, and rolling the dead-weight of the prince back to his previous position. "It is fairly simple: his breathing seems forced and painful... well... because it is..."
"Adar!" cried Aragorn, shocked that his father was speaking so bluntly and glancing at Thranduil, to gauge a reaction.
But Elrond held up a hand to stop his son protesting further. "Peace, Estel... his lungs have suffered more than a few... *halts* since you were found?" At the ranger's nod, Elrond smiled a little, "Well then, they are bound to be sore and reluctant to carry out their duty. I should not worry, he may be very breathless and weak as he recovers, but I can assure you that they will recover fully and Legolas will be fine... this is all a natural process." He looked to his son's best friend once more, and gently stroked his thumb across his pale, heated forehead. Elrond sighed regretfully, heart aching that the young being was in so much suffering, "I wish we were able to give him something for the pain his body is causing him... but, alas, his body needs not to be given any further excuses to cease it's healing. The sooner we get this is all over, the quicker we shall have him back with us again." The mighty elven lord stood, and looked at his friend and son with kind but sad, deep blue eyes:
"We merely have to wait this one out."
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Aragorn shifted a little in his seat, only just realising that his backside was swiftly becoming numb. He had been sat there, silent and still, loyally beside the bed of his best friend, for all of that morning and most of the afternoon. Legolas' family and others who cared very much for the prince had come periodically, but had always been prematurely dragged away by some matter or other that needed attending to - but Aragorn had remained a constant, and simply refused to leave the bedside. People had, after a long time, given up on trying to get him to rest.
Legolas had much improved from the night before, when there had seemed to be no hope in sight. Spasms of pain still grabbed him regularly, and his breathing was still very thready and weak, and he had yet to return to the world of the fully-conscious... but it was obvious to all that he was slowly getting a little better. An indication of this being that King Thranduil was actually allowing Legolas' brothers and sisters to enter the room!
The notion that Legolas was getting better made the ranger's heart fair near burst from his chest, and he could not wait for his best friend to recover enough to start talking... for then, Aragorn would be able to tell Legolas how very sorry he was and beg for his forgiveness. There was still a crushing sense of regret and guilt that bowed the young man's head... perhaps this was part of the reason Aragorn was permenantly to be found by Legolas' bedside? He felt it was his duty to be there?
He sniffed mournfully - even with stuffed up sinuses, the melancholy he felt was almost able to be tasted in the air surrounding him. He gazed at Legolas' now-still form and sighed heavily and with frustration, wishing he were able to do something to try and speed his recovery... do something to help... *anything*.
Aragorn didn't know why he thought it would achieve anything, but nonetheless, he reached out and tenderly brushed back a stray lock of golden hair from the pale but peaceful face, vaguely hoping that this simple move might motivate Legolas' body to open his eyes - he reckoned that at that moment, he would instantly become the happiest man alive if he saw his best friend's sparkling green eyes light up with amusement, as they had done so often during their long friendship. But, alas, Legolas remained stubbornly unaware of Aragorn's presence.
The ranger sighed gustily, and withdrew his hand sharply, tucking it back under his crossed arms, angered momentarily with himself that he had gotten his hopes up at all.
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
The door to the room opened, making Tusinduil, Esladiya and Aragorn all jump as they had not expected anyone to join them at that moment: everyone else had to work all day through one way or another, and though no one was very pleased about this, they grudgingly understood and got on with it - though it was gathered by all in the palace that the Royal family reserved the right to complain about such an injustice at any given moment they chose to.
The three looked up to see Lord Elrond quietly entering the room, and they saw him stop with amazement. His wise face seemed to light up as his gaze caught upon Legolas in his bed, laying on his uninjured side, partially curled up. "He has moved," stated the elven lord, deep blue eyes shining suddenly with the light of a thousand stars as he immediately moved towards the bed. Could this be true?
Esladiya beamed at her godfather, beautiful with the light about her as radiant as the sun after which she was named. "He has been shifting in his sleep all morning! And not merely through evasion of pain! Isn't that brilliant news? The fact that he's moving is a good thing, isn't it?" The Sun Princess was so desperate for her littlest brother to come back to them all that she was jumping at anything, any chance, hoping to find it a good sign.
"Of course, Dian Annor [Little Sun], it means that he is that much closer to waking up fully," Tusinduil answered his younger sister excitedly before Elrond was able to, knowing enough to rejoice over that fact and share it, slinging an arm about her petite shoulders and giving her a one-armed hug. The Rivendell elf favoured him with a smile and a nod, indicating he was correct, joy at Legolas' most obvious sign of recovery evident across his wise face.
"He's still having spasms though... he's still in pain... and I don't like the way his breath sounds at all," Aragorn remarked gloomily from where he stood by the window to the balcony, tossing the comment over his shoulder. He turned away again after he had said this, fixing his gaze on some point past the glass and on the wall of tree trunks far beyond. Lord Elrond saw Esladiya and Tusinduil exchange suddenly-downcast looks, before their gazes simultaneously dropped to their folded hands in their laps, as though they were embarrassed for having such a foolish hope at all.
But Elrond would simply not stand for this. He caught the Crown Prince's eye and indicated for him and his sister to leave for a moment, so he could have a time alone with his son. Tusinduil understood and caught Esladiya's slim arm and gently pulled her to her feet and from the room, but not before she had bestowed a sweet kiss on Legolas' forehead. Then they were gone.
Elrond turned his attention to his youngest son. "Estel," he said, voice uncharacteristically stern and arms folded across his strong chest. "Turn about and look at me, please."
Aragorn immediately knew by the tone of his father's voice that he had done something wrong, and quickly obeyed, arms dropping to his sides from being similarly crossed across his chest - but not once did he drop his gaze and look away from the hard blue orbs of Elrond.
Elrond walked steadily up to Aragorn, but it was only when the mighty lord was stood directly in front of his son that his expression softened. "Estel, that was uncalled for, don't you think?" The ranger seemed about to answer, but then found he was unable to, and so closed his mouth again, so Elrond continued, "You should mayhap team up with Ithilmir, who also seems to have lost all hope... the two of you could do a great deal in making the Royal family a little more miserable and the situation a little worse- "
"I could not do anything more to worsen this situation! I've already done enough!" Aragorn cried without really meaning to. He realised what he had said, and immediately his mouth clamped shut and he looked down to the floor. Elrond did not say anything, as his son expected him to, but Aragorn obliged the silent question with an answer, "It is my fault that he's here, and suffering so - I don't... I mean I *do* want him to wake, and everything... of *course* I do - "Aragorn was stumbling over his words, a true indication if any that he was really upset. "But... I cannot bear to... to face him when - *if*... if he wakes up... " He faltered again, but could not bring himself to look at his father, feeling shame cascading down upon him like a waterfall from all sides.
Elrond merely looked at Aragorn steadily. After a moment of silence, where the only sounds to be heard in the room was Legolas' laboured breathing and Aragorn's quick-paced one, chest heaving with emotion, he spoke: "Estel, I know everything, I know what happened..." At the ranger's shocked look, grey eyes wide when his dark head shot up, he smiled slightly, "Your friend, the elf-maiden Evylenn, I believe, came to me last night and told me what you had told her... she was *concerned* for you, Estel," he added, seeing the small look of anger that flashed across the young man's face at the thought of betrayal by one of his closest friends. "I know what happened, and I have thought about it very seriously, and I have come to the conclusion that you are not to blame for this whole situation."
Aragorn looked at his father, hardly daring to believe him. He breathed in and out once... twice... "Really?" he asked after a pause, voice very small and humble. He always believed the truth in what his father told him, and that was the only reason why a small flicker of hope lit up his heart suddenly.
The lord nodded his dark head with earnestness, "You are not to blame for what has happened - circumstances could not have changed by any action of yours... you were in trouble from the moment you were accosted by the Wargs. And when Legolas wakes up, he shall tell you that as well... he might mayhap beat you for your foolishness in this matter, but..."
The ranger felt like half of the weight of guilt and regret had been lifted from his heart... and though he knew he would not be eased until Legolas himself woke, and Aragorn had apologised over and over to him, and Legolas forgave him... the notion that his father believed he had not done anything wrong made his breathing a little less difficult, the tension constricting his chest loosening a little. His father bestowed him with another kind smile and, reaching out, gathered his son to him, hugging him tight. And Aragorn felt completely safe and almost content.
They broke apart and grinned a little at each other. A mumbled moan drifted across to them from Legolas' bed, and they turned to find the prince shifting a little more, stretching his legs out slightly in his sleep and turning his head further into the pillow it lay upon. His eyes shifted beneath their heavy lids, obviously struggling to open. "He's trying to wake up," Aragorn remarked softly, but didn't move further in case it was just another heart-leaping disappointment.
It was... Legolas failed to awaken fully, and sank quickly back down into obscure obliviousness. Aragorn attempted to hide his bitter disappointment from his father... but he knew it wasn't likely that Elrond hadn't noticed it. Elrond had, but as usual, he refrained from adressing it. After a while, it was Aragorn who was the first to talk. "Evylenn's incredibly frightened of you, you know that?"
After a moment - when he had taken in what had just been said - Elrond chuckled suddenlyand hugged his son closer.
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Legolas knew there was something beyond endless white. There had to be: his logical mind, though not working at it's best at that exact moment, still simply couldn't accept that the world was comprised of endless white. He remembered things other than white... fair enough, they were vague, but they certainly weren't white.
And yet white was what he faced.
How very confusing.
He was sure he remembered other things... trees, for one. The white didn't upset him as much if he thought about trees, or the way leaves sounded in the breeze, or the smell of the forest in which he lived. *Aha*! He realised he lived in forest: now he was getting somewhere! He was making progress. A familiar face came to mind, cutting the endless white cleanly in half... it was stern and more than a little intimidating, but Legolas knew he loved it, and could trace all the lines and curves of the face from memory. It was his father... and his father was Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen. Fuzzy, disconnected noise came with this face, and they were immediately associated together... the noise was a deep, booming sort of sound... and if Legolas listened hard enough, he could understand that it was a voice. A very familiar voice.
Legolas concentrated very hard, attempting to fill the endless white with other faces he knew and loved. There was the strong faces of his eldest brothers, Tusinduil and Fienngil; the maternally-kind one of Niandias; the eternally-grinning, rosy-cheeked faces of the twins, which were also acompanied with noises... laughter, it was laughter that Legolas knew very well. Then there was Ithilmir's pale beauty; Aricesla's cuttingly- sarcastic, mocking smile and finally the beautiful Esladiya, whose own soft voice filled the endless white void as well . There were more, and he struggled to focus his attentions - his mother's much-loved face immediately joined the others, gorgeous and full of love, though Legolas was a little saddened that at that moment he could not put a voice to her face... but then came Evylenn's and that cheered him greatly, grinning, pretty, amused and concerned... then came Aragorn's, handsome and strong and full of mirth and friendship, and a deep chuckling came with his face.
The prince's heart gave a funny sort of flip in his chest, and his fuzzy mind wondered vaguely at the horrible sense of urgency coursing through him all of a sudden. Aragorn... where was Aragorn? He needed to find his best friend... he was unsure why... there had been something Legolas was supposed to do: he was meant to... he was meant to look after Aragorn - that was it! He was supposed to be looking after Aragorn. Then where was Aragorn!?
A horrid sense of panic rose in his chest, and his breathing, laboured at best, was instantly affected. A sharp pain grabbed him in his abdomen as a consequence of his agitated thoughts, and he twisted in on himself slightly to try and prevent the sensation, shaking hand grasping at his stomach.
Suddenly his eyes opened and he started a little: he had not expected that! After a fair while of trying to force them to open, they had done it without him meaning to. But success anyway! Legolas felt triumph, but it was quickly swept aside and relegated as the pain battered him again, and he gasped once more. Slowly, his painful eyes recognised things other than white. A blurred outline formed slowly, gradually clearing more and more. Through the fog of pain that had befallen his mind, Legolas made out the smiling face of his father, just like the one that had filled the endless white previously... his father meant he was home! He was safe! Nothing else mattered to him at that moment, because he was home, with his family, and nothing could get at him when he was with his family... he *knew* that, had always known that.
Satisfied and exhausted with his minor triumph, Legolas let the endless white wash over him once more, actually relishing the obliviousness it gave him: he could not longer feel the pain that had afflicted him when he was trying to wake. But one thought, one nagging splinter of worry, did stubbornly stay in the back of his mind, and prevented him from sinking as deep into the whiteness as he had been before. It actually saved him, bringing him that closer to the breaking the surface of consciousness and escaping the sea of whiteness. This thought was:
Where was Aragorn?
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Hope you liked that, it was gonna be longer, but I ran out of time... please let me know what you thought. I reckon there'll either be one or two chapters till the end. Sad, I know.
More reviewer responses:
Star-Stallion: I know exactly what you mean about Peter Jackson trying to hint at a long friendship between Aragorn and Legolas during Return. My friend gets annoyed with me when we watch any of the LotR films together, because whenever anything happens between them - like if they look at one another for reassurance, make the other one laugh etc - I go 'SEE! Best friends! What have I just been saying?' She played war with me in the cinema when the 'Hannon-le' bit at the end came on because I was wacking her on the arm just to get my point across. Ooops. lol. Ditto with the bit with the Black Gate and him going '*ARAGORN*!' I cried then, too... actually, come to think of it... I cried through the majority of that film...
juz wonderin: Whenever I read the books, I always imagined Legolas with bright green eyes... so that is what I have given him in all my stories, regardless of the film.
Templa Otmena: Seriously, now... you're far too kind to be a reviewer of mine! Lol. I am so glad you liked Aragorn drawing Legolas - I didn't know whether anyone would, but I did try to explain the way I imagined it as best I could. So happy you thought it was that good. I am also thrilled you like my original characters! THANKYOU!
Lisienna: Your reviews really did make me chuckle. I dind;t kill Legolas because I had only just done another story about his death, and we don't yet know which way I am going to take my next Mirkwood fic... so, I bailed and kept him alive. I thought I'd managed to get the situation hairy enough, however, to prevent people being disappointed. Plus, I thought I might just have been lynched had I killed him - I'd also started the story off as a short one, and that was really not the direction I was intending to take it at all. Thanks for your very amusing reviews. As for Legolas sleeping with his eyes closed - well, he's not sleeping: he's injured and I maintain that when elves are ill/injured/heartbroken/exhausted etc, their eyes close in an uncharacteristic fashion, kay?
nikki: I feel the same way you do, and while that is a really good idea... I don't think I'd be able to quite pull it off! I don't want this story to end, though.
Shauna: You switching sides on me now, are you? You were very abusive to 'poor Aragorn' only a few chapters ago... you seem to hold a lot more sympathy for the poor, guilty ranger now! Lol.
Thankyou to everyone who has read and reviewed, adn even though I haven't been able to respond to all of you, know that I appreciate you so very VERY much! Reviewer award goes to mogcat for such lovely reviews for both this story and Vignettes... thanks for bothering with me!
In any case, a lot of you have been telling me to 'hurry up and finish it' and that you 'can't wait for it to end'... now, I assume you all meant it in the nicest possible way, but.... Lol, I'm just messing with you! But, sad to say, this story has nearly reached it's end (believe it or not, it was only supposed to be a short story that lasted a couple of weeks! I went off-track a little...). I can't image how I'm gonna deal with not having this story to write all the time... lol, it's a life-changer! Anway, on to reader-responses... if you not in the bit immediately following this, then you're almost certainly gonna be at the end... though I seriously cannot reply to everyone, I appreciate your view very *VERY* much!
Wildfire: Sorry, I don;t think the twins'll be in this story... I will, however, as a consolation prize, make references towards them and have the characters in this story talk about them. Will that do?
Isadora: Hope you had a happy birthday. I seem to have a mental-block when it comes to making Thranduil stern... I can't even make him seem a little stand-offish - I love him too much! Seriously, I adore him as a character but fear I might have made him a little too... typical, if you know what I mean. I have attempted in this chapter to put across how he could seem so serious and more than a little bit frightening, but I think I may have failed! Lol... I still love writing him as a kind, loving character though, and I'm not gonna stop! And the thing with his affection for Estel - it seems to me that the families in Mirkwood and Rivendell have been friends for a long, *long* time, and are all connected together and he feels the same for Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen... plus, how could anyone not love Aragorn?!
emma: No, I will not change what I wrote - that Legolas is smaller than Aragorn and the ranger's clothes are too big for him. Almost everything I write and put into my stories are there for good reason. Perhaps we just differ from our perceptions of Legolas, and I respect that... but when I think of him, I think of a young elf who is very lithe and energetic or to put it in a sickeningly-descriptive way 'Like a young willow tree, thin but strong, rising up into the sunlight...' blah blah. And Aragorn is going to grow up as a mighty King, he's a warrior who had already faced a lot in his young life. And seventeen year olds can be big! I understand your reasoning that elves are mighty and strong etc. but I don't think that all elves have to have the same physical structure, and I am merely writing and decribing what *I* alone think - not suggesting for a moment that it is the general rule. That's why I have Thranduil's hair as dark, Legolas with eight siblings and a mother poisoned by a spider bite... that's why I have Legolas with green eyes... it's merely how *I* percieve it all, and I ask you to please respect that and not ask me to change things that I have purposefully included in my story. But thankyou for your review and I hope you continue to read my story and review it. I welcome stuff like that.
Elainor: Welcome and thankyou very much for your reviews. I personally restrained myself with the bear as I thought you'd all get a bit sick of me continuously injuring our beloved Legolas and Aragorn!
Beth: *SIGH*... well, I *suppose*... if you really want more fellowship stuff, I'll make a whole lot of effort and... Lol, only kidding. I love writing about the fellowship and you can rest asurred that there is a lot in the pipeline and coming your way. And, to be perfectly honest, you are a wonderfully delightful reviewer and I had to give you acknowledgement for it! Sorry to embarrass you and all... lol. And as for the references... I can't help it! My mind becomes full of all these ideas of things that have happened to the characters before we met them and I can't help but write them down!
marbienl: Yes, I said there'd be Thranduil/Aragorn interaction and I keep my promises! Secretly, I absolutely adore writing anything with Thranduil in so couldn't help myself! As for Aragorn being thin but heavy... I think that was a mistake on my part, but let's just say it was intentional and I imagine the ranger as... dense? Lol. As for the #Legolas is as tough as old boots# line - yes it *was* a reference to 'Bootstraps' and I am so happy that at least one person picked up on it! Very clever... I got pirates as an early Cristmas present and I adore it! Well done for realising! And the whole thing about Aragorn being the one to draw Legolas' spirit is me - rather bluntly - paving the way to saying that he will become a great healer. And please don't not (double negative, I am fully aware) put in your inklings and ideas about where I'm going with things etc. They give me ideas and lets me know that you're on the ball! I don't really understand what you mean about feeling more regret than guilt... I think I know what you mean but... please take the time out to explain it to me in your next review and I'll tell you! Cheers.
Anyway, sorry and I hope you like! Quick note, this is a chapter really comprised of vignettes and short scenes depicting the rocky road to recovery and feelings of other characters etc. They are all in order, but don't necessarily run smoothly from one another. The next chapter, though, I can assure you, is as one bit. With barely any shifting... stuff. = Ha, how eloquent am I? When's that English exam....?
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Lord Elrond had to practically run to keep up with Fienngil as the Star Prince raced ahead of him. The dark-haired lord had arrived at the Mirkwood palace only a few moments beforehand to find Fienngil waiting for him, buzzing with nervousness. Fienngil had only acknowledged Elrond with a dip of his fair head before he had whirled and strode off, leaving the exhausted twins, who had not rested in about four days, quickly behind him. Elrond had not been told the condition of either his son or Legolas - Andariun and Arianduil had been panicked when they had arrived in Rivendell, and all they could tell him was that neither showed any signs of waking - and so it was no small wonder that his heart beat wildly in his chest when he thought of the potential condition of the two young beings.
They rounded a corner, and came upon an odd scene. In the corridor - with the door they were gathered about closed stubbornly off to them - was almost all of the Mirkwood Royal children, sitting on the floor or in the deep window sill opposite the oaken-door, or stood and leaning against the wall. As soon as they saw him, Esladiya and Aricesla jumped from the window sill and ran to hug their godfather; Niandias and Ithilmir flashed him a greatful, relieved smiles; Evylenn kept her respectful distance, not really that familiar with the Lord of Imladris and a little intimidated by him, and Tusinduil, nodding to the closed door, told him, "They're in there." The Royal children were not allowed to enter the room, for reasons the King was keeping to himself.
Elrond did not pause and opened the door, stepping into a heated room. The first thing to jump to his attention was his youngest son, sitting next to the large bed, wrapped all up in blankets that swathed his shoulders and dwarfed his figure. Aragorn, realising his father had finally come to aid them, jumped up at once, blankets falling to the floor about him, and immediately barrelled into the elven lord, almost hidden in the hug which Elrond gave him, who was busy thanking the Valar that his child was alive and awake. The elf briefly forgot that only half of his worries were eased - so happy he was that Aragorn seemed to be fine - and for a minute could not understand why the ranger's body suddenly heaved with barely-controlled sobs in his arms, but he was sharply reminded that all was not as well as it seemed when his eyes caught sight of Legolas and he discovered the reason for his son's upset.
The fair prince was caught up in spasms of pain, agony rippling through him as his elven body fought to restart and repair itself, to try and recover from the drastic shut-down state it had previously been in. He was captured repeatedly by acute knife-stabs in his abdomen which curled his body protectively in on itself; and a pin-like, continuous sensation of needles pricking all the muscles of his body made Legolas writhe where he lay to try and evade it, twisting the sheets of his bed into knots. There was a heavy aching in his chest, his heart and lungs labouring constantly to keep going and not simply give up as they had done so many times before, which made Legolas gasp in pain and his hand periodically clutch at the deep neckline of his night-shirt, as if trying to grasp the troublesome organs and prevent them from hurting him so; and a fire seemed to swell inside his skull, fevering his brow and making his loose golden hair stick to his neck with salty moisture, ensuring that he never fully reached consciousness and was now very rarely in a lucid world. He writhed and shook, gasped and let out half-screams and weak moans of agony.
Elrond felt his eyes widen as he looked upon the sorry state, and he breathed in sharply, pain assaulting his heart all of a sudden. He glanced up, and met the helpless gaze of the King of Mirkwood who stood, hand leaving his child's back. Thranduil smiled weakly, and his bluey-grey eyes softened at the sight of his good friend. "Mellon nin," he said, and moved to embrace the elven lord, "thank Iluvatar you have come."
"What happened?" asked Elrond, hugging him swiftly then moving away to fix him with a concerned eye.
"There is a lot to explain... Legolas' body had almost shut down when your - might I say here - brilliant and extremely talented son," despite himself, it was here that Thranduil shot a favourably-amused glance at Aragorn, "drew him from it... Now, my healers are as capable as any others, but you are far more experienced with this sort of condition than they, and they have... " Thranduil swallowed the hard lump of something that had collected in the back of his throat, "... *refrained* from doing anything to help my son because they were unsure of themselves and thought it best to let you handle the situation." The King could feel his temper rising, though he knew it was no fault of Lord Elrond's that his son was suffering, and he fought to restrain himself - it was just so hard to see his youngest child in pain, and it tore at his heart so that he was desperate for Elrond to start, to help Legolas. He cleared his throat completely, and decided it would be diplomatic not to look at the Head Healer, Felrofin, who stood silently in the corner of the room, so instead carried on, "Forgive me, but please do something to help him... *anything*."
Elrond nodded kindly, understanding how hard it must be for his good friend to stand by, totally helpless, whilst Legolas was suffering. He moved towards the bed, and sat down upon it, careful not to jar the prince. First things were first, and he reached out a gentle hand and placed it upon Legolas' hot forehead. Immediately, the archer went limp, all of his jerking movements ceasing at once. "Adar, what did you do?" asked Aragorn at once, starry grey eyes wide and slightly panicked at the reaction of his best friend.
"Do not fret, I have merely suspended the connection between mind and body for a brief while, just so I can assess him without causing him further damage."
"Could you keep him like that?" asked Thranduil, frowing and trying not to wince at the labourious, harsh breathing of his son: it sounded as though the very breath the unconscious Legolas inhaled grated his lungs and choked him, for even though he was now still, his breath stuttered and wheezed. It had been that way before, but now Legolas was motionless, Thranduil noticed his breathing even more. "Without pain I mean...?"
Lord Elrond shook his dark head regretfully, "I am afraid not, this state can only be temporary else the effects of it end up being far more damaging than the initial injury." ~Having said that~ he mentally added as he gently unwound the bandage and splint from Legolas' right upper arm and shoulder ~this injury couldn't get *much* worse~ The wound was still very ugly, though the Mirkwood healers had apparently done a fine job with the surgery, and setting the obviously broken bone. Elrond looked at Felrofin, who he had met numerous times before when his son and Legolas had done harm to themselves, as seemed to be their wont. "Could you please tell me the condition of the wound, and what you treated it with?"
Felrofin at once stood straighter, and his hands unconsciously came crossed in front of him, as though her were a small elfling school-child, being told to stand in front of the class and recite a song. "Yes, my lord... it was a first-degree Warg wound: the bone of the prince's upper arm was broken very badly and uncleanly, yet we managed to remove all splinters of bone from it, making doubly sure there were none left behind. But I am afraid that the muscle of the upper arm are torn in many places, and in this case, a lot of the main muscle has been ripped fully away from the bone. We treated this specific part of the wound with Emsill and Relroot paste, and set the bone to heal properly... and that's all we could really do- "
"You have done well," Elrond assured the healer with a small smile. "No infection," though the wound was still raw and ugly, it was clear to the healer of Rivendell that it was not actually inflamed. Satisfied, he nodded once more, "Legolas will need to put a lot of work into building the strength of his right arm back up again."
"But that is the arm he shoots and fights with, not to mention writes and plays the flute with," Aragorn could not hold back this strangled claim as he stumbled towards his father, tripping rather ungracefully over the blankets he had dropped earlier and forgotten about. "Will he be able to... you know, carry on?" It would be devastating to the archer if he were to lose the use of his main arm - of course, it would not stop him in a sword fight (Aragorn was confident that Legolas could take on any orc coming at him with *both* hands tied behind his back), but he would never be able to fire an arrow again... and this would knock the wind out of him for definate.
Elrond comforted his son with a smile and a nod, beginning to re-wrap the damaged limb, which had begun shaking again, "If he works at it, the dexterity of the hand and the power of it's grip will only suffer a slight deficiency... which is utterly understandable," he added after seeing the expressions that flickered across Aragorn and Thranduil's faces. "Once he's completed all the physiotherapy I'm planning to throw his way, it will not really effect his ability in a fight or hinder the execution of anything he wants to do all that much... and, if I know Legolas, this one set-back will not deter him any - he'll be fine."
Thranduil did not look entirely convinced, but he did nod, wanting desperately to take comfort in the words of his friend and to find a hope at the end of the whole sorry state. Aragorn, however, always believed everything his father said, and so did not even begin to question what he had been told. He grinned slightly with relief.
"Other than the wound, though - is he... is he all right?" asked the King, still worried by the harshness of his son's breath.
Elrond hid his smile: if only Legolas was awake to see how tender his father's thoughts were for him, and how much he loved him with every pulse of his heart. Elrond had, many times, been the one to listen to Legolas as he poured out his insecurities and worries onto welcome ears... the Lord knew that the proud young prince very rarely went to anyone with his problems, not liking to let them know he had any weaknesses at all, but Elrond, after a long period of time, had managed to attain the prized position of being the person Legolas came to when troubled. And it seemed that most of the prince's worry, indecision or alternative fury - general upset, really - came from the source of his father, through one reason or another, but usually coming down to accidental bad communication between the two. But Elrond had just caught a glimpse of the amount of love his good friend held for his youngest son, and all he could say was that it was purely breathtaking.
Checking once more that Legolas was unconscious by placing his hand to the flushed forehead once more, Elrond gently turned the young prince over onto his side, pushing a little upon his narrow back until the archer's fair head lolled forward on his pillow and golden hair fell down one side of the bed. He then pushed the light, green shirt the prince was wearing up to expose a skinny back, bathed in sweat and heated to touch: Lord Elrond grimaced slightly as he pressed his pointed ear a little left of the jutting spine of Greenleaf's back. Thranduil and Aragorn watched, anxious as the Lord frowned as he listened intently. After a while Elrond straightened, pulling down the light shirt to cover the pale back once more, and rolling the dead-weight of the prince back to his previous position. "It is fairly simple: his breathing seems forced and painful... well... because it is..."
"Adar!" cried Aragorn, shocked that his father was speaking so bluntly and glancing at Thranduil, to gauge a reaction.
But Elrond held up a hand to stop his son protesting further. "Peace, Estel... his lungs have suffered more than a few... *halts* since you were found?" At the ranger's nod, Elrond smiled a little, "Well then, they are bound to be sore and reluctant to carry out their duty. I should not worry, he may be very breathless and weak as he recovers, but I can assure you that they will recover fully and Legolas will be fine... this is all a natural process." He looked to his son's best friend once more, and gently stroked his thumb across his pale, heated forehead. Elrond sighed regretfully, heart aching that the young being was in so much suffering, "I wish we were able to give him something for the pain his body is causing him... but, alas, his body needs not to be given any further excuses to cease it's healing. The sooner we get this is all over, the quicker we shall have him back with us again." The mighty elven lord stood, and looked at his friend and son with kind but sad, deep blue eyes:
"We merely have to wait this one out."
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Aragorn shifted a little in his seat, only just realising that his backside was swiftly becoming numb. He had been sat there, silent and still, loyally beside the bed of his best friend, for all of that morning and most of the afternoon. Legolas' family and others who cared very much for the prince had come periodically, but had always been prematurely dragged away by some matter or other that needed attending to - but Aragorn had remained a constant, and simply refused to leave the bedside. People had, after a long time, given up on trying to get him to rest.
Legolas had much improved from the night before, when there had seemed to be no hope in sight. Spasms of pain still grabbed him regularly, and his breathing was still very thready and weak, and he had yet to return to the world of the fully-conscious... but it was obvious to all that he was slowly getting a little better. An indication of this being that King Thranduil was actually allowing Legolas' brothers and sisters to enter the room!
The notion that Legolas was getting better made the ranger's heart fair near burst from his chest, and he could not wait for his best friend to recover enough to start talking... for then, Aragorn would be able to tell Legolas how very sorry he was and beg for his forgiveness. There was still a crushing sense of regret and guilt that bowed the young man's head... perhaps this was part of the reason Aragorn was permenantly to be found by Legolas' bedside? He felt it was his duty to be there?
He sniffed mournfully - even with stuffed up sinuses, the melancholy he felt was almost able to be tasted in the air surrounding him. He gazed at Legolas' now-still form and sighed heavily and with frustration, wishing he were able to do something to try and speed his recovery... do something to help... *anything*.
Aragorn didn't know why he thought it would achieve anything, but nonetheless, he reached out and tenderly brushed back a stray lock of golden hair from the pale but peaceful face, vaguely hoping that this simple move might motivate Legolas' body to open his eyes - he reckoned that at that moment, he would instantly become the happiest man alive if he saw his best friend's sparkling green eyes light up with amusement, as they had done so often during their long friendship. But, alas, Legolas remained stubbornly unaware of Aragorn's presence.
The ranger sighed gustily, and withdrew his hand sharply, tucking it back under his crossed arms, angered momentarily with himself that he had gotten his hopes up at all.
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
The door to the room opened, making Tusinduil, Esladiya and Aragorn all jump as they had not expected anyone to join them at that moment: everyone else had to work all day through one way or another, and though no one was very pleased about this, they grudgingly understood and got on with it - though it was gathered by all in the palace that the Royal family reserved the right to complain about such an injustice at any given moment they chose to.
The three looked up to see Lord Elrond quietly entering the room, and they saw him stop with amazement. His wise face seemed to light up as his gaze caught upon Legolas in his bed, laying on his uninjured side, partially curled up. "He has moved," stated the elven lord, deep blue eyes shining suddenly with the light of a thousand stars as he immediately moved towards the bed. Could this be true?
Esladiya beamed at her godfather, beautiful with the light about her as radiant as the sun after which she was named. "He has been shifting in his sleep all morning! And not merely through evasion of pain! Isn't that brilliant news? The fact that he's moving is a good thing, isn't it?" The Sun Princess was so desperate for her littlest brother to come back to them all that she was jumping at anything, any chance, hoping to find it a good sign.
"Of course, Dian Annor [Little Sun], it means that he is that much closer to waking up fully," Tusinduil answered his younger sister excitedly before Elrond was able to, knowing enough to rejoice over that fact and share it, slinging an arm about her petite shoulders and giving her a one-armed hug. The Rivendell elf favoured him with a smile and a nod, indicating he was correct, joy at Legolas' most obvious sign of recovery evident across his wise face.
"He's still having spasms though... he's still in pain... and I don't like the way his breath sounds at all," Aragorn remarked gloomily from where he stood by the window to the balcony, tossing the comment over his shoulder. He turned away again after he had said this, fixing his gaze on some point past the glass and on the wall of tree trunks far beyond. Lord Elrond saw Esladiya and Tusinduil exchange suddenly-downcast looks, before their gazes simultaneously dropped to their folded hands in their laps, as though they were embarrassed for having such a foolish hope at all.
But Elrond would simply not stand for this. He caught the Crown Prince's eye and indicated for him and his sister to leave for a moment, so he could have a time alone with his son. Tusinduil understood and caught Esladiya's slim arm and gently pulled her to her feet and from the room, but not before she had bestowed a sweet kiss on Legolas' forehead. Then they were gone.
Elrond turned his attention to his youngest son. "Estel," he said, voice uncharacteristically stern and arms folded across his strong chest. "Turn about and look at me, please."
Aragorn immediately knew by the tone of his father's voice that he had done something wrong, and quickly obeyed, arms dropping to his sides from being similarly crossed across his chest - but not once did he drop his gaze and look away from the hard blue orbs of Elrond.
Elrond walked steadily up to Aragorn, but it was only when the mighty lord was stood directly in front of his son that his expression softened. "Estel, that was uncalled for, don't you think?" The ranger seemed about to answer, but then found he was unable to, and so closed his mouth again, so Elrond continued, "You should mayhap team up with Ithilmir, who also seems to have lost all hope... the two of you could do a great deal in making the Royal family a little more miserable and the situation a little worse- "
"I could not do anything more to worsen this situation! I've already done enough!" Aragorn cried without really meaning to. He realised what he had said, and immediately his mouth clamped shut and he looked down to the floor. Elrond did not say anything, as his son expected him to, but Aragorn obliged the silent question with an answer, "It is my fault that he's here, and suffering so - I don't... I mean I *do* want him to wake, and everything... of *course* I do - "Aragorn was stumbling over his words, a true indication if any that he was really upset. "But... I cannot bear to... to face him when - *if*... if he wakes up... " He faltered again, but could not bring himself to look at his father, feeling shame cascading down upon him like a waterfall from all sides.
Elrond merely looked at Aragorn steadily. After a moment of silence, where the only sounds to be heard in the room was Legolas' laboured breathing and Aragorn's quick-paced one, chest heaving with emotion, he spoke: "Estel, I know everything, I know what happened..." At the ranger's shocked look, grey eyes wide when his dark head shot up, he smiled slightly, "Your friend, the elf-maiden Evylenn, I believe, came to me last night and told me what you had told her... she was *concerned* for you, Estel," he added, seeing the small look of anger that flashed across the young man's face at the thought of betrayal by one of his closest friends. "I know what happened, and I have thought about it very seriously, and I have come to the conclusion that you are not to blame for this whole situation."
Aragorn looked at his father, hardly daring to believe him. He breathed in and out once... twice... "Really?" he asked after a pause, voice very small and humble. He always believed the truth in what his father told him, and that was the only reason why a small flicker of hope lit up his heart suddenly.
The lord nodded his dark head with earnestness, "You are not to blame for what has happened - circumstances could not have changed by any action of yours... you were in trouble from the moment you were accosted by the Wargs. And when Legolas wakes up, he shall tell you that as well... he might mayhap beat you for your foolishness in this matter, but..."
The ranger felt like half of the weight of guilt and regret had been lifted from his heart... and though he knew he would not be eased until Legolas himself woke, and Aragorn had apologised over and over to him, and Legolas forgave him... the notion that his father believed he had not done anything wrong made his breathing a little less difficult, the tension constricting his chest loosening a little. His father bestowed him with another kind smile and, reaching out, gathered his son to him, hugging him tight. And Aragorn felt completely safe and almost content.
They broke apart and grinned a little at each other. A mumbled moan drifted across to them from Legolas' bed, and they turned to find the prince shifting a little more, stretching his legs out slightly in his sleep and turning his head further into the pillow it lay upon. His eyes shifted beneath their heavy lids, obviously struggling to open. "He's trying to wake up," Aragorn remarked softly, but didn't move further in case it was just another heart-leaping disappointment.
It was... Legolas failed to awaken fully, and sank quickly back down into obscure obliviousness. Aragorn attempted to hide his bitter disappointment from his father... but he knew it wasn't likely that Elrond hadn't noticed it. Elrond had, but as usual, he refrained from adressing it. After a while, it was Aragorn who was the first to talk. "Evylenn's incredibly frightened of you, you know that?"
After a moment - when he had taken in what had just been said - Elrond chuckled suddenlyand hugged his son closer.
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Legolas knew there was something beyond endless white. There had to be: his logical mind, though not working at it's best at that exact moment, still simply couldn't accept that the world was comprised of endless white. He remembered things other than white... fair enough, they were vague, but they certainly weren't white.
And yet white was what he faced.
How very confusing.
He was sure he remembered other things... trees, for one. The white didn't upset him as much if he thought about trees, or the way leaves sounded in the breeze, or the smell of the forest in which he lived. *Aha*! He realised he lived in forest: now he was getting somewhere! He was making progress. A familiar face came to mind, cutting the endless white cleanly in half... it was stern and more than a little intimidating, but Legolas knew he loved it, and could trace all the lines and curves of the face from memory. It was his father... and his father was Thranduil, King of Eryn Lasgalen. Fuzzy, disconnected noise came with this face, and they were immediately associated together... the noise was a deep, booming sort of sound... and if Legolas listened hard enough, he could understand that it was a voice. A very familiar voice.
Legolas concentrated very hard, attempting to fill the endless white with other faces he knew and loved. There was the strong faces of his eldest brothers, Tusinduil and Fienngil; the maternally-kind one of Niandias; the eternally-grinning, rosy-cheeked faces of the twins, which were also acompanied with noises... laughter, it was laughter that Legolas knew very well. Then there was Ithilmir's pale beauty; Aricesla's cuttingly- sarcastic, mocking smile and finally the beautiful Esladiya, whose own soft voice filled the endless white void as well . There were more, and he struggled to focus his attentions - his mother's much-loved face immediately joined the others, gorgeous and full of love, though Legolas was a little saddened that at that moment he could not put a voice to her face... but then came Evylenn's and that cheered him greatly, grinning, pretty, amused and concerned... then came Aragorn's, handsome and strong and full of mirth and friendship, and a deep chuckling came with his face.
The prince's heart gave a funny sort of flip in his chest, and his fuzzy mind wondered vaguely at the horrible sense of urgency coursing through him all of a sudden. Aragorn... where was Aragorn? He needed to find his best friend... he was unsure why... there had been something Legolas was supposed to do: he was meant to... he was meant to look after Aragorn - that was it! He was supposed to be looking after Aragorn. Then where was Aragorn!?
A horrid sense of panic rose in his chest, and his breathing, laboured at best, was instantly affected. A sharp pain grabbed him in his abdomen as a consequence of his agitated thoughts, and he twisted in on himself slightly to try and prevent the sensation, shaking hand grasping at his stomach.
Suddenly his eyes opened and he started a little: he had not expected that! After a fair while of trying to force them to open, they had done it without him meaning to. But success anyway! Legolas felt triumph, but it was quickly swept aside and relegated as the pain battered him again, and he gasped once more. Slowly, his painful eyes recognised things other than white. A blurred outline formed slowly, gradually clearing more and more. Through the fog of pain that had befallen his mind, Legolas made out the smiling face of his father, just like the one that had filled the endless white previously... his father meant he was home! He was safe! Nothing else mattered to him at that moment, because he was home, with his family, and nothing could get at him when he was with his family... he *knew* that, had always known that.
Satisfied and exhausted with his minor triumph, Legolas let the endless white wash over him once more, actually relishing the obliviousness it gave him: he could not longer feel the pain that had afflicted him when he was trying to wake. But one thought, one nagging splinter of worry, did stubbornly stay in the back of his mind, and prevented him from sinking as deep into the whiteness as he had been before. It actually saved him, bringing him that closer to the breaking the surface of consciousness and escaping the sea of whiteness. This thought was:
Where was Aragorn?
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
Hope you liked that, it was gonna be longer, but I ran out of time... please let me know what you thought. I reckon there'll either be one or two chapters till the end. Sad, I know.
More reviewer responses:
Star-Stallion: I know exactly what you mean about Peter Jackson trying to hint at a long friendship between Aragorn and Legolas during Return. My friend gets annoyed with me when we watch any of the LotR films together, because whenever anything happens between them - like if they look at one another for reassurance, make the other one laugh etc - I go 'SEE! Best friends! What have I just been saying?' She played war with me in the cinema when the 'Hannon-le' bit at the end came on because I was wacking her on the arm just to get my point across. Ooops. lol. Ditto with the bit with the Black Gate and him going '*ARAGORN*!' I cried then, too... actually, come to think of it... I cried through the majority of that film...
juz wonderin: Whenever I read the books, I always imagined Legolas with bright green eyes... so that is what I have given him in all my stories, regardless of the film.
Templa Otmena: Seriously, now... you're far too kind to be a reviewer of mine! Lol. I am so glad you liked Aragorn drawing Legolas - I didn't know whether anyone would, but I did try to explain the way I imagined it as best I could. So happy you thought it was that good. I am also thrilled you like my original characters! THANKYOU!
Lisienna: Your reviews really did make me chuckle. I dind;t kill Legolas because I had only just done another story about his death, and we don't yet know which way I am going to take my next Mirkwood fic... so, I bailed and kept him alive. I thought I'd managed to get the situation hairy enough, however, to prevent people being disappointed. Plus, I thought I might just have been lynched had I killed him - I'd also started the story off as a short one, and that was really not the direction I was intending to take it at all. Thanks for your very amusing reviews. As for Legolas sleeping with his eyes closed - well, he's not sleeping: he's injured and I maintain that when elves are ill/injured/heartbroken/exhausted etc, their eyes close in an uncharacteristic fashion, kay?
nikki: I feel the same way you do, and while that is a really good idea... I don't think I'd be able to quite pull it off! I don't want this story to end, though.
Shauna: You switching sides on me now, are you? You were very abusive to 'poor Aragorn' only a few chapters ago... you seem to hold a lot more sympathy for the poor, guilty ranger now! Lol.
Thankyou to everyone who has read and reviewed, adn even though I haven't been able to respond to all of you, know that I appreciate you so very VERY much! Reviewer award goes to mogcat for such lovely reviews for both this story and Vignettes... thanks for bothering with me!