Authors Note: Here's the next installation. Hope you enjoy!
Legolas sighed in frustration and hurried over to Strider's still form, hoping that he had not just uttered his dying words. Much to Legolas' relief, he found there was still a pulse and that Strider had merely slipped back into unconsciousness, probably where he was most comfortable. Legolas straightened up, and placed one hand on his hip, looking around.
"You, strange Ranger, are more infuriating than I could have believed. I don't appreciate that you know more than I. Somehow you seem to know you are poisoned and now I must find kingsfoil. Please, do not wander off while I am gone," Legolas laughed at himself. "I'm talking to an unconscious man."
Legolas began his search in the woods, his keen elf eyes taking in almost everything even in the darkness. Legolas was filled with many thoughts as he searched, his frustration having reached new heights. Never had he met someone so complicated. Strider brought many questions to his mind, the kingsfoil just added to it. After all, kingsfoil was an elven remedy to ease pain and fight poison and few humans knew of it. There was the fact that Strider was a Ranger, which could explain this knowledge. Even in the Elven kingdoms, the Rangers were very well respected. They did their best to keep peace and protect those who did not understand the truth from Sauron's dark hand.
They aided the dwarves, elves, and even some of the few Wizards who roamed Middle Earth. From what Strider had said, he had traveled in Mirkwood many a time. Legolas wished now that he had paid more attention to them when they had passed through, but he had often been unconcerned because they only arrived on business for his father or with messages from abroad. Still, Strider did not seem to be a typical Ranger.
"He has much to hide," Legolas said aloud. "Ah, kingsfoil." The elf plucked the plant and hurried back to the fire where he crushed the leaves and boiled them. When the liquid had cooled, he moved to Strider's side and took off the cloak that was already blood stained. He pulled off the makeshift bandages and threw them into the fire, lest they attract any wargs with the smell of blood. He peeled off Aragorn's shirt to reveal the ugly wounds. As gently as possible, he began to bathe the wounds, wincing every time the strong young man cried out even through his unconscious haze. Legolas stayed strong, refusing to give in to any thoughts that would be damaging to the poor man's health. If Strider had indeed been poisoned, he could easily slip into the realm of the Nazgul, he would be a wraith, neither dead nor alive. Legolas would not let that happen. When he had finished, he tore up Aragorn's shirt and used that as bandages, wrapping the man back in his cloak and laying the blanket back over his body. His chest had been clammy and cold, and Legolas feared it was the precursor to a fever.
"Well Strider, you have many secrets I wish to know. Who is Evaria? If I am to tell Lord Elrond where this message is you speak of and I myself do not know, how well will that go over? After all you said you had the message, so who is Evaria?" Just as he asked the question, Strider's horse whinnied and moved most restlessly. Legolas smiled. "Ahh, so you are Evaria." He walked over to her and she seemed pleased. "You have the message? But where?" Legolas searched her again, but found nothing. "Once again, I don't understand, but I believe that you do have the message. Now pray tell Evaria, do you know why your master called Lord Elrond father? Surely that is far from possible. Strider is but a man and though he carries himself like an elf, he is not one. So why then would he call Elrond father?" Another mystery. It seemed that all Legolas was getting was more questions and no answers. "I wish my father were here, he would explain."
Legolas sat back by the fire, leaning on a tree opposite to where Strider sat slumped, his head resting on his chest. Ahh, how he missed Mirkwood. Strange happenings had brought him to be where he was now, in a wood that was only somewhat familiar, fighting to get to Rivendell before a mysterious Ranger died of wounds inflicted by Sauron's worst minions. A strange tale. Legolas thought back to how it had started, and his unfortunate luck. His father had asked Legolas and several other archers to keep special watch, or he felt darkness stirring. There had been several reports of wargs attacking in broad daylight. They had been emboldened by something and the King wanted to know what. It was around that time that a group of four Rangers had arrived, unusual because the Rangers usually traveled alone or only in groups of two.
Legolas had paid little attention and had set out into the woods of Mirkwood, going to the very edge of the land to find what caused the uneasiness of his father. He had waited there for days, listening to the sounds of nature and searching for the trouble.
On his third day, Legolas had stumbled across what his father feared. The Nazgul were on the borders of Mirkwood and they seemed to be searching for something, but Legolas could not tell what. The dark riders, faceless and formless, covered in intimidating black cloaks seemed to be in a hurry, for their horses looked tired and their feet bled. Legolas was not sure what he should do, report back to the King or stay and discover what these evilcreatures were doing. His final decision was to remain where he was to decide what evil the Nazgul were up to. This was his undoing.
Early the next morning, one of the marauding riders had stumbled across Legolas, who had been hiding in the brush. It was almost a freak occurrence, for the Nazgul had no idea he had been there. Legolas had put up quite a fight, mostly through the use of whistles and calls to his fellow elves to warn them of danger. The Nazgul probably would have killed him, but they realized he would be a wonderful subject for Sauron to have. After all, the elves had changed and he was sure to have information that Sauron would surely drag out of him in the pits of Mordor. They had finally subdued the thrashing elf when one had brought the hilt of his sword down on the meddling elf's head. Legolas could clearly remember trying to fight the blackness, knowing he was in great danger, but he could not, and he slipped into oblivion.
Legolas had awoken hours later to find himself blindfolded and trussed, tossed on the back of his very own horse. They were riding hard. Legolas had been optimistic at first, glad that he was alive, but his imagination soon told him he needed to escape. However that did not seem likely because of his predicament, not to mention he had no idea for how long they had been riding or where they were riding to. He was mostly glad that they had left Mirkwood and hopefully his father and brothers were now safe. Little did he know that he truly had saved his family and friends much trouble for the riders became fearful of discovery and had fled instead of finishing earlier plans. The other elf scouts came upon the scene of the scuffle and had to report back to King Thranduil that his son was missing.
The King was grieved and regretted having already sent Aragorn off with his message of dark things stirring in the open. Aragorn would have known what to do, or at least been able to track whomever had stolen his son. He could not have known that fate had meant for their paths to cross or that his son would survive to see him again. Instead, he had sent his best elves after the riders, hoping only for success and to see his son again.
Legolas stirred from his thoughts and stared at the sky. Strange how he was here now, certainly not where he had expected. He was glad that the next day they would reach Rivendell and there many questions would be answered. He would feel better when he knew more about the strange Ranger. It would greatly ease his mind. Sighing once more, Legolas began a watch. He would not sleep tonight, not that he needed to. Instead he would watch, not only for intruders, but the sky and the moon, the trees and the leaves, and he would also watch for the slight fall and rise of the Ranger's chest. Just to make it to morning would be relief enough for Legolas.
Legolas sighed in frustration and hurried over to Strider's still form, hoping that he had not just uttered his dying words. Much to Legolas' relief, he found there was still a pulse and that Strider had merely slipped back into unconsciousness, probably where he was most comfortable. Legolas straightened up, and placed one hand on his hip, looking around.
"You, strange Ranger, are more infuriating than I could have believed. I don't appreciate that you know more than I. Somehow you seem to know you are poisoned and now I must find kingsfoil. Please, do not wander off while I am gone," Legolas laughed at himself. "I'm talking to an unconscious man."
Legolas began his search in the woods, his keen elf eyes taking in almost everything even in the darkness. Legolas was filled with many thoughts as he searched, his frustration having reached new heights. Never had he met someone so complicated. Strider brought many questions to his mind, the kingsfoil just added to it. After all, kingsfoil was an elven remedy to ease pain and fight poison and few humans knew of it. There was the fact that Strider was a Ranger, which could explain this knowledge. Even in the Elven kingdoms, the Rangers were very well respected. They did their best to keep peace and protect those who did not understand the truth from Sauron's dark hand.
They aided the dwarves, elves, and even some of the few Wizards who roamed Middle Earth. From what Strider had said, he had traveled in Mirkwood many a time. Legolas wished now that he had paid more attention to them when they had passed through, but he had often been unconcerned because they only arrived on business for his father or with messages from abroad. Still, Strider did not seem to be a typical Ranger.
"He has much to hide," Legolas said aloud. "Ah, kingsfoil." The elf plucked the plant and hurried back to the fire where he crushed the leaves and boiled them. When the liquid had cooled, he moved to Strider's side and took off the cloak that was already blood stained. He pulled off the makeshift bandages and threw them into the fire, lest they attract any wargs with the smell of blood. He peeled off Aragorn's shirt to reveal the ugly wounds. As gently as possible, he began to bathe the wounds, wincing every time the strong young man cried out even through his unconscious haze. Legolas stayed strong, refusing to give in to any thoughts that would be damaging to the poor man's health. If Strider had indeed been poisoned, he could easily slip into the realm of the Nazgul, he would be a wraith, neither dead nor alive. Legolas would not let that happen. When he had finished, he tore up Aragorn's shirt and used that as bandages, wrapping the man back in his cloak and laying the blanket back over his body. His chest had been clammy and cold, and Legolas feared it was the precursor to a fever.
"Well Strider, you have many secrets I wish to know. Who is Evaria? If I am to tell Lord Elrond where this message is you speak of and I myself do not know, how well will that go over? After all you said you had the message, so who is Evaria?" Just as he asked the question, Strider's horse whinnied and moved most restlessly. Legolas smiled. "Ahh, so you are Evaria." He walked over to her and she seemed pleased. "You have the message? But where?" Legolas searched her again, but found nothing. "Once again, I don't understand, but I believe that you do have the message. Now pray tell Evaria, do you know why your master called Lord Elrond father? Surely that is far from possible. Strider is but a man and though he carries himself like an elf, he is not one. So why then would he call Elrond father?" Another mystery. It seemed that all Legolas was getting was more questions and no answers. "I wish my father were here, he would explain."
Legolas sat back by the fire, leaning on a tree opposite to where Strider sat slumped, his head resting on his chest. Ahh, how he missed Mirkwood. Strange happenings had brought him to be where he was now, in a wood that was only somewhat familiar, fighting to get to Rivendell before a mysterious Ranger died of wounds inflicted by Sauron's worst minions. A strange tale. Legolas thought back to how it had started, and his unfortunate luck. His father had asked Legolas and several other archers to keep special watch, or he felt darkness stirring. There had been several reports of wargs attacking in broad daylight. They had been emboldened by something and the King wanted to know what. It was around that time that a group of four Rangers had arrived, unusual because the Rangers usually traveled alone or only in groups of two.
Legolas had paid little attention and had set out into the woods of Mirkwood, going to the very edge of the land to find what caused the uneasiness of his father. He had waited there for days, listening to the sounds of nature and searching for the trouble.
On his third day, Legolas had stumbled across what his father feared. The Nazgul were on the borders of Mirkwood and they seemed to be searching for something, but Legolas could not tell what. The dark riders, faceless and formless, covered in intimidating black cloaks seemed to be in a hurry, for their horses looked tired and their feet bled. Legolas was not sure what he should do, report back to the King or stay and discover what these evilcreatures were doing. His final decision was to remain where he was to decide what evil the Nazgul were up to. This was his undoing.
Early the next morning, one of the marauding riders had stumbled across Legolas, who had been hiding in the brush. It was almost a freak occurrence, for the Nazgul had no idea he had been there. Legolas had put up quite a fight, mostly through the use of whistles and calls to his fellow elves to warn them of danger. The Nazgul probably would have killed him, but they realized he would be a wonderful subject for Sauron to have. After all, the elves had changed and he was sure to have information that Sauron would surely drag out of him in the pits of Mordor. They had finally subdued the thrashing elf when one had brought the hilt of his sword down on the meddling elf's head. Legolas could clearly remember trying to fight the blackness, knowing he was in great danger, but he could not, and he slipped into oblivion.
Legolas had awoken hours later to find himself blindfolded and trussed, tossed on the back of his very own horse. They were riding hard. Legolas had been optimistic at first, glad that he was alive, but his imagination soon told him he needed to escape. However that did not seem likely because of his predicament, not to mention he had no idea for how long they had been riding or where they were riding to. He was mostly glad that they had left Mirkwood and hopefully his father and brothers were now safe. Little did he know that he truly had saved his family and friends much trouble for the riders became fearful of discovery and had fled instead of finishing earlier plans. The other elf scouts came upon the scene of the scuffle and had to report back to King Thranduil that his son was missing.
The King was grieved and regretted having already sent Aragorn off with his message of dark things stirring in the open. Aragorn would have known what to do, or at least been able to track whomever had stolen his son. He could not have known that fate had meant for their paths to cross or that his son would survive to see him again. Instead, he had sent his best elves after the riders, hoping only for success and to see his son again.
Legolas stirred from his thoughts and stared at the sky. Strange how he was here now, certainly not where he had expected. He was glad that the next day they would reach Rivendell and there many questions would be answered. He would feel better when he knew more about the strange Ranger. It would greatly ease his mind. Sighing once more, Legolas began a watch. He would not sleep tonight, not that he needed to. Instead he would watch, not only for intruders, but the sky and the moon, the trees and the leaves, and he would also watch for the slight fall and rise of the Ranger's chest. Just to make it to morning would be relief enough for Legolas.