Sorry it's taken so long guys! We've both had really, really busy summers and we couldn't squeeze writing this fic into them! But we're back like never before and we've got some great things planned, so stay tuned!! - Jenna xxxx

Chapter 23 – Mountains, Mirkwood and Mainorlas...

"We are not going to travel today!"

"We have to! We have to get to Mirkwood!"

"You are injured- you have to rest!"

"I'll be fine! I don't need anymore rest!"

"You'll be jolted around on the horse- it'll hurt!"

"So? A little pain can be dealt with!"

"Estriel- be reasonable!"

"Elrohir- be practical! We have to go!"

Aragorn sat on a log by the fire; feeling highly bemused and tried to ignore the shouting coming from the tarpaulin. Elrohir had only little contact with human women, and tended to prefer the company of his brothers and male elves while travelling, although he had copious experience with elven women, all of them lived in elven sanctuaries, and were aware of his status and did pretty much as he asked. Estriel didn't mind about his status, and wasn't about to do as he asked.

They were so stubborn that he mentally reminded himself not to get on the wrong side of them. He grinned as he heard his brother trying to reason with her, and give up, yelling:

'Very well! We shall travel, but do not blame me for the pain you endure!'

Elrohir stormed out, and began to clear the camp. Aragorn silently rose to help him, brushing the horses down to stimulate their circulation and warm them up a little. Soon they were walking the horses through the fast becoming very mountainous pathways. Whatever Elrohir had said to Estriel, he was guiding the horse extremely carefully, avoiding any slopes or jolting areas of terrain.

It was becoming snowy, and Es was wrapped in her cloak, and Elrohir hugged her close to him, supporting her tenderly, wrapping his cloak even closer around the pair of them. Estriel had dropped into a light sleep, and for this he was thankful- while she slept, she could not feel the pain.

Meanwhile, Darayne and Jenna were also struggling through the rain. They were leading Thorne, who, wounded, could carry them no further until he rested. Darayne had a cut across his chest, and another on his head, and Jenna had several deep scratches in her legs, where the orcs had caught her as she and Darayne had galloped away. She also had a puncture on the right of her abdomen, where the very top of an orc's sword had just cut. They were walking slowly and painfully and were looking for a suitable resting place.

They found one, and collapsed, leaning against a rock.

"Darayne, we have to find the others," said Jenna, gasping for breath.

"Jenna, it cannot be- we must head over the mountains, and towards Moria- I have friends who live there. We can meet Estriel and the others before Lorien. I cannot protect us within Mirkwood, for I do not know it well. Trust me, it is the best plan."

"But what if Estriel is seriously injured? I'm her healer- I should be there! We were going to meet at Mirkwood if anything like this happened... Oh, what to do, what to do?"

"Jenna, Aragorn is an exceptionally skilled healer, as is Elrohir; I would imagine Estriel will be fine. Trust me, Aragorn will know what to do, he knows that I have dwarven friends in Moria."

Jenna said nothing, displeased with this plan, as she missed the comfort of Estriel's company already. They had been prepared to do this, yes, but being separated was not part of the deal.

"We must set up camp," said Darayne. "As I feel that a strong wind will set in soon, and it will begin to get colder."

Jenna found some bandage and quickly sorted out her puncture wound to make it stop bleeding, and then set about to figuring out what they had with them.

They did not have the tarpaulin, but did have an extra blanket which the elves had given them. They also had some lembas bread, two water skins, the soap ("hee hee, Estriel can't wash..."), a packet of matches, the famous bright pink hairbrush, a little chocolate (Jenna squealed in delight), Jenna's medical supplies and ... one bedroll.

"Oh," said Jenna.

"What?" asked Darayne, as he was busy clearing leaves from a large hollow in the rocks.

"Er...nothing," said Jenna. "Want some Lembas bread?"

"Yes, thank you," he said. "I have finished clearing out this hollow, if you would like to bring the Lembas bread over here we could eat it under shelter."

She did, and they sat next to each other in silence, munching on the bread. The hollow reminded Jenna of where the four hobbits hide from the Ringwraith in the first movie. Only bigger and less insect infected. Both of them could fit in it if they were lying down, however, they would probably have to be lying quite close together. Jenna smiled inwardly. What with that, and the only having one bedroll...they were in for some interesting times.

When they were finished eating the Lembas bread, Jenna turned to Darayne and noticed, for the first time, the extent of his injuries. It seemed that blood was still flowing from the cut in his chest, as she could see the darker brown patch on his brown top.

"Does the cut on your chest hurt a lot?" she asked.

"I can manage it," he said quietly.

"I think I should take a look at that," she said, reaching for her medical supplies. "Take your top off."

He looked at her in a shocked silence. Jenna turned back to him, and then blushed slightly.

"I mean, so that I can, y'know, look at the cut," she mumbled.

He did, and Jenna took a sharp inward breath to avoid any swooning.

I'm a medical student, damn it, she thought as she took an antiseptic wipe and began to clean the wound. I have to be professional, in charge of my emotions...oh my God, if he ripples his muscles like that again, I might die...

When she finished cleaning it, she looked at it closely.

"It's deep Darayne; I think I'll put butterfly stitches on it, just to be safe." Once she applied these, he replaced his shirts.

"Thank you Jenna," he said. "You are truly a great healer."

She smiled.

"Maybe one day..."

He smiled.

"I am sure you will be; and soon. So, shall we rest for now?"

She smiled.

"Yes, that's a good idea. Do we need a watch? I don't think so. It's pitch black- if we have a little fire, no one will see it. Besides, we're both light sleepers."

Darayne nodded.

"True. Very well, we will both get some much needed rest. Where are the bed rolls?"

Jenna blushed redder than the eye of Sauron.

"Ah...one problem with the bed rolls...There's only one. Remember? We tied one to Aragorn's horse to even out the weight."

Darayne blinked.

"Ah. Very well, I shall sleep under my cloak."

It was cold, and there was a chilly wind- he did not relish the idea, but resigned himself to it. Neither did Jenna like feeling so guilty- it was hers that had been left behind.

"Don't be silly. We're both adults."

Darayne could hardly believe his ears.

"You trust me?"

Jenna felt slight misgivings, but he wasn't likely to break the ranger code of honour.

"Yes. Besides, there is little difference between riding the same horse and lying next to each other...Right?"

She didn't mention that the confines of the sleeping bag would most likely keep them a whole lot closer than they had been when riding. Neither did she mention that in sleeping bags there wasn't much room for many layers of clothing. She tried to keep cool, while she was sure she was blushing furiously, and began to set out the sleeping bag under the shelter they had found- a sort of hollow or cavern under the rock which at least protected them from the worst of the wind and the light rain that fell about them. They crouched uncertainly by it, then Jenna motioned with her hand for him to get in first.

"Go on...I can squeeze in once you're sorted...It'll be easier."

Darayne looked uncertain, but did as she bade him. He got in, shirt and light trousers on, and then spread his arms to help her get in. They then did the bag up tightly, and, wrapped in Darayne's arms, Jenna went quickly to a peaceful sleep, followed soon after by Darayne, who took a moment to think in wonder at the miraculous girl fate had offered him.

Back with Estriel and the sons of Elrond, things were also going smoothly.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ooh. Ow. Ow. Ow."

Estriel was propped on two of the bed rolls again, and, to Aragorn's amusement, she had taken Elrohir's absence as an opportunity to examine the wound herself. She would prod it, testing how bad it was, snatch her finger away and say ow, then repeat.

"Estriel, do you believe that your actions are helping the wound to heal?"

He inquired, restraining a puzzled sort of smile.

"Nope. I am tired though. Shall I take first watch?"

That threw him for a millisecond. There were two answers- yes, and Elrohir would be irate, and no, which would infuriate Estriel, who needed to rest either way. There was another way, he thought, and smiled innocently.

"Well, if you're sure. You must wake one of us when you become too tired though, my friend- it is still dangerous for all of us to sleep at the same time." He passed her a bowl of stew he had concocted from the supplies (little did she know that she had a larger portion than either of the others would get.)

"You must eat it all, Estriel, or you will not heal. I shall rest now, but when you are finished and Elrohir returns you must get him to put some athelas paste on your wound."

She agreed easily, and munched hungrily, waiting for Elrohir's return. The night was so bright- stars glinted like fairy lights on the Christmas tree of the universe- and a chill wind swept haughtily through the camp, causing the small, sheltered fire to splutter. She felt very sleepy, and wished Elrohir would come back soon. Aragorn had very little sleep on this trip, and she intended to see he got some now. She could watch for a little bit longer, then her elf in shining armour would come back and let her sleep too. What the heck was taking him so long? Ah, there he was.

The handsome elf dropped noiselessly from the trees and walked towards Estriel, who was drooping into sleep.

What was Aragorn thinking, letting her watch over him? If I had not returned this moment, she might have fallen asleep and gotten them both killed? She looks fatigued, I had better take over. Elrohir thought, and settled himself by her side.

"Estriel, you need to go to sleep now." He said softly, hoping she was asleep already and wouldn't argue.

"In minute...Ar'gorn said put paste...on wound..." She yawned, half asleep. He rose and retrieved said paste. Then he worked out the tough bit. Estriel was so tired there was no way she could apply the paste herself. Previously, Aragorn and Estriel had worked it out between them- now he was going to have to put the paste on the wound, which was inconveniently situated between Estriel's collarbone and shoulder- at an uncomfortably low point. It was nothing indecent, but still, Elladan was a much better healer than him- he was a warrior! Still, it had to be done.

"Estriel, are you awake?" He refused to do it if she was asleep.

"Mhmm...Are you?"

Was the rather surprising answer. He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes...I need to put the paste on your wound. Is that well? I can wake my brother if you prefer."

Estriel thought about this. She was more awake in her head than she seemed.

"No, that's ok. If you don't mind. I trust you."

Elrohir took a shallow breath, then reached for the top of her tunic. Gently he pulled it to expose the wound only. It looked terrible in the firelight, but he knew it was healing well, and the threatened fever had not occurred. Against her pale, beautiful, glowing moonlight skin it looked nothing less than horrific, but he reassured himself- it would heal. Spreading some of the green gunk that smelled so wonderful onto the tips of his fingers, he smoothed it gently, but swiftly, around the wound. Then he tenderly replaced her tunic.

"Thank you, 'Ro..." Said Estriel, before falling fast asleep right there. Puzzled at the swiftness of her sleep, he picked up her stew bowl and smelt it. As suspected, he found a lingering hint of Mainorlas, a plant that formed an intensely narcotic effect when mixed with the smell of athelas.

Damn Aragorn!