Chapter 9
"Where is he? Where is Legolas? Where is my son?" Thranduil charged through the halls of his palace in wild franticness. His eldest sons had just returned from the kingdom borders, bearing the news of the death of many, and many more wounded – including his youngest son.
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"Legolas!" Adrahil screamed as he watched his brother crumble to the ground and lay there unmoving.
The twins, Brethilorn and Thalion battled through the tide of orcs to Adrahil's side, shocked at the sight of their brother lying upon the ground. The soldiers, summoned by Adrahil's screams rushed toward the princes, forming a human barrier against the orcs.
Adrahil knelt beside the unmoving figure, tears blurring his vision. But he could see that blood was still streaming out of the gash at his side. He still lived.
Thalion knelt on the other side of Legolas, ripping off his own cloak. He shredded the cloth into long shreds and bound them tightly about his brother's waist, trying to slow the flow of blood.
"We must get him back to the palace, even if it means forfeiting our own lives," Brethilorn said. His two other brothers nodded.
From various fallen branches and their cloaks, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion constructed a crude stretcher and gently lifted Legolas onto it. Brethilorn and Thalion lifted it up as Adrahil moved forward, driving to clear a path for them. The soldiers realized this and joined him
The brothers wept as they moved forward, watching helplessly as the guards sacrificed themselves out of love for their prince, blocking him with their own bodies and lives.
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The King flew down the corridor towards Legolas's room. On reaching his youngest son's bedroom, he burst through the closed oak door. He could not bear to stop to think about what he would see beyond the door.
Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion looked up from their brother as the door swung open, revealing their father, a look of mingled anger and pain in his face. The Crown Prince rose from his position on the edge of the bed, allowing Thranduil to take his place as the twins stepped aside from the door.
Thranduil slowly peeled back the already blood-soaked sheets covering his son. He lay bare-chested on the bed, his waist bound tightly with thick cotton bandages, the skin of his left arm red and raw. Yet blood had already seeped through the dressings.
"Has anyone sent for a healer?" asked Thranduil quietly.
"Yes Ada, he's on his way," responded the other three in unison.
At that moment, a quiet rapping sound came from the open door. The four turned, seeing a green-clad elf carrying a black leather bag standing in the doorway. Ancient lines of wisdom were written upon his face.
The brothers stepped out of the way of the chief healer as the King rose slowly from his son's side.
Wordlessly, the healer moved to the bed, bending over the unmoving prince. He carefully unwound the bloody bandages. With the dressings removed, the wound could be seen clearly.
Thranduil couldn't help shuddering as he looked upon the wound. The knife-stroke had been delivered with intent to kill, and the cut was deep, blood still flowing. The flesh and muscle had been laid open – it was a wonder that Legolas was still alive. Thranduil, Adrahil, Brethilorn, and Thalion turned away, all fearing that the wound was fatal.
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Thranduil stood waiting anxiously in the hall by the closed door, his sons standing by him – the healer had kicked them from the room. The air of tenseness was so thick it felt strangling.
The royal family jumped as the door opened slowly and the healer emerged.
The King approached the elf, apprehension in his eyes. "How is he?"
"It is hard to say," responded the healer slowly. "But," he added, catching Thranduil's look of impatience, "I have done everything in my power for him. It is his choice of life or to pass on now." With that he nodded respectfully to the King and walked away.
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Deana – Yeah, I agree.
mistopurr – Thanx for all the reviews! *flushes* thanks, I'm flattered.
PokethePenguin – Lol. Ok, I'll try to make him as alright as he can be.
Scegan – Thanx!
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