Chapter 7: Losing Battles and Conquering Over Time
Snow barely crunched beneath the silent footsteps of Quendur as he and his twin snuck up on one unsuspecting orc, who was patrolling the area. Putting one of his gloved hands over it's mouth the elf silt the orcs throat and shoved him away before climbing up the trees to just above the cave.
It had only taken three minutes for the elves to come up with a plan of attack. The twins would come from the trees, kill the orcs closes to them and go back up, give a signal that all was clear and grab Legolas. But when Neldëá looked closer, she said it was too risky for him to hauled out, so assignation of the orcs was a major priority now.
Somehow, something went wrong.
An orc gave a shout and suddenly most of the elves were completely surrounded by orc's, pointing their weapons at them. It turned out that the previous orc party had banded with another twenty, leaving the young elflings completely outnumbered.
Standing, with his hands in the air, Lúrin whistled for the remaining elves, who were in the trees, to change position and take out as many as they could.
Finch whistles answered, and Lúrin looked at his remaining men, and prayed that this worked. "NOW!!!" he screamed, taking the orcs by surprise, who cried out in horror. All of them leaped into action, Lúrin taking his twin blades and shoving them in the nearest orc neck, he twirled and then put a white blade into the chest of an orc coming up behind.
Suddenly a whinnying scream was heard, and Lúrin was afraid that Jewel had been injured, but he saw that she, Marilla and the wolf were joining in on the act. Marilla slicing at ankles, while the wolf attacked above.
The twins and Dagorma, Gorë and Neldëá were doing their best to take out the orcs that came to close to Legolas's body, preventing even more injury. Meanwhile, Yávëtal sided with Cassageln, Draugdil and Rambamírë who were yelling each time they killed or injured.
But the most amazing of the fighters were Alassë and Algar, they worked with each other, using each other to fool an orc into going in the wrong direction, while the other threw a dagger or arrow.
Within minutes the fight was over and all of the enemy lay dead at the feet of the young ones, who looked at this type of power with amazement.
His weapons now held loosely in his hands, dripping orc blood down the beautiful engravings, Lúrin breathed hard, his breaths hitching in his chest as he gasped for oxygen.
Quickly composing himself, Lúrin placed his daggers in their leather covers and rushed to his brothers side.
Lifting Legolas's chin and finding the normally bright grey eyes closed, Lúrin instructed Draugdil to cut the ropes. That done, the elfling fell bonelessly onto his brothers chest and didn't move, Legolas's breathing was laboured and his chest hardly rose with each breath.
Not wanting to lay his brother amongst the enemy's blood, Lúrin bundled the young elfling in a spare cloak and lifted him gently, careful of any broken bones that were most likely suffered from being contact with the orcs and their treatment.
"Find a dry place, he's fading fast!" Lúrin cried to the others. Hearing his brothers voice, Legolas moaned and tried to call out, telling his brother that he was hurting him more. "No, shhhh, it's alright, you're safe."
~*~
Voices . . .
They were everywhere and all around him, but he couldn't be sure where they were coming from or who they belonged to.
". . . fading fast . . . " cried a panicked voice. He knew that voice, it belonged to Lúrin! Now that his body was warming, a sharp and needle-like pain was throbbing in his knee and hand, moaning to let his brother know, Legolas was only hushed.
Minutes later he was placed in a warm bed, a fire crackling next to him. Hands began to frantically pull his blood-coated jacket from his clothing, when that was done, they began to take his shirt but when they tried to pull it over his puffed hand his scream of agony froze them all.
". . . hand . . . Legolas?" Alassë's sweet voice soothed his tears for his ada, her cool hands calming his dizzily racing mind. Her voice drew him closer to waking, and not drifting between the dreaming and conscious worlds.
"He's waking," came an unfamiliar voice. This made the elf want to wake more, to quench his curiosity of who the new person was. Opening his eyes, Legolas was assaulted by bright light and faces, closing his eyes tightly as his headache slammed itself against his skull. Moaning again Legolas tried to rub his soar forehead, and found it had a light bandage, his sister had placed it there while soothing his fears.
Feeling shadows slide over his head, Legolas again attempted to open his eyes, it worked. There was no pain and his eyes didn't explode with tiny dots. Alassë smiled down at him and kissed his cheek.
"You're back," she whispered, pushing away sweaty trundles. "You had us worried. Now, what hurts to cause you to scream so?"
". . . mab . . . knee," his whispered, trying to keep himself from coughing up blood again. With that the strange elf ever so gently took and lifted his hand and inspected it, after trailing her fingers along the top of his hand, she nodded and confirmed that he had fractures within the bone.
Biting his lip, Legolas kept from crying out again, not wanting to make his sister think he was weak. Alassë noticed and bent down to his pointed ear. "Even strength needs rest, do not be ashamed."
"Non uu," he whispered in a watery voice, smiling slightly.
Alassë frowned slightly, and a slender finger touched his chin. "That's where it's coming from." Looking at the strange elf, Alassë muttered something. Nodding the female elf seemed to have suspected something also. "Are you coughing up blood, Legolas?" Alassë asked.
He hesitated for a second before nodding. Alassë's face lost a little colour but the elf maiden calmed her with a hand. "Neldëá, we need to get him home, fast."
"Yes," Neldëá whispered, looking over her shoulder worriedly, "and quickly, it now seems."
~*~
A glorious morning rose to greet the elves who walked slowly under a golden shower of light. Light streamed down from the green trees, broken only by leaves that glowed green with it's own natural magic. Lúrin carried Legolas, his hand wrapped in a set bandage and resting on his small chest. A light wind played with Lúrin's hair, tickling his brothers nose and making him wrinkly it in reaction.
They had wrapped him in many cloaks as putting the extra cloths on was to distressing for his injuries. In the parade of elves, Marilla rode on Jewel's rump, while Alassë and Cassageln rode on her back, wearily of how she'd take it as she had hated anyone riding her except her mistress, but surprisingly she took the to the riding of the other elves as if they were her own foals.
Urgency was needed but every time they sped up, the elfling would cry out in pain, so being reduced to walking was not what Legolas really needed. Legolas needed proper care, not basic knowledge of how to splint a fractured hand and bruised knee.
After checking his chest the two maidens suspected that he also had fractured or cracked ribs from the huge bruise on his chest, but apart from the obvious of him bringing up blood and a few fractures and bruises the only problem was him eating and taking fluids.
He would take nothing, even though his mouth and body screamed for liquid. Even gentle coaxing from his sister wouldn't break the strange unwillingness to eat. And so, Legolas continued to grow weaker without any nourishment or water to help sustain his small frame.
A gentle wind played with the elflings hair and Lúrin moved the stray strands from tickling the closed eyes. Sighing in frustration, Lúrin knew they still had half a days trek back to his home, it would have been cut dramatically had he been let to ride, but not daring to injure his sibling further kept the older Prince on foot.
Legolas gently groaned in his sleep and began to fidget, his face screwing up in pain. Lúrin halted and tried to shift Legolas in a more comfortable position but the elfling continued to squirm into conscious.
Finally Legolas opened his eyes and looked miserably up at his brother. "What's wrong?" Lúrin cooed to his younger brother.
At these words, Legolas went red and mumbled between a gasp.
"Pardon?" Lúrin asked confusedly.
Noticing that the rest of the group had stop, the elfling glanced at them and turned even redder. "I really need to go, Lúrin, I can't hold on any more."
Holding back his smile, Lúrin went off with his brother to take care of his needs.
"He held on for over a day?" Gayadur exclaimed in awe.
"Now THAT'S courage." His twin replied in equal wonder. ~*~
Coming up a small rise, Lúrin saw a group of scouts awaiting for the group of missing elves. These scouts were usually on the borders of Mirkwood but had been called to accompany the elves, should the need arise, unlike warriors they were experts in their field and wasted little time to watch the elves coming.
A party of them raced their horses to meet them. For the first time in Lúrin's life they became like children calling and shouting in greeting and joy. They whooped in greeting when they recognised the royal children, then they sent a scout to ride at breakneck speed back to the palace with the news. Soon another party of mounted riders appeared, this time warriors.
Rogan, Dúloth, Táralóm the healer, and Taurereg were among the second party. Táralóm immediately raced for his daughter, picking her up and hold her tightly, for his fear of his daughters death was over.
As parents and other family members hugged and cried their relief Lúrin and his other siblings continued to the healing halls with Rogan following the trio for company.
The commander opened the heavy doors for the family and Lúrin stopped dead.
Their father was sitting there, waiting for them.
Silently the king rose and walked over to his family, embracing them all, careful of not harming his child anymore than was already done to him.
For the first time in a while, their father smiled at them. "For you all, you will not be punished. I am eternally grateful, you four show a bond beyond that of simple sibling love. And it has saved you all."
With that he gently took Legolas's currently unconscious form and laid it gently on the huge feather mattress. Tears of relief and worry shone in their fathers blue eyes as he stared down at his youngest son, who looked on the verge of death.
A soft 'meow' brought him out his morbid thoughts and he saw the female cat staring at him, not asking for any comfort for itself, but clearly questioning whether he needed any.
He rose a gentle hand and held it above her head where she rose a little and rubbed her head against his soft palm. With a twitch of her fluffy tail she twirled herself around gracefully and layed on Legolas's pillow.
Thranduil caressed the tiny forehead with soft fingers, careful of the bandage that half-covered the deep gash of Legolas's brow, wondering why it was always the innocence that suffered first.
Finished from welcoming his own daughter home safely, Taurereg rushed in with his daughter hot on his heels, relating the seriousness of the princelings injuries.
Elf maids rushed around as Taurereg ordered them to gather bowls of warm water, clean towels, rags and warm clothes. His medical bags and other healing supplies were laid hastily on and round the healing room in unknown order but Taurereg seemed to know where his wanted instruments laid.
Immediately he began working on the young elfling, taking off the rest of the soiled clothing and wrapping a warm blanket around his waist. Taurereg grimaced in sympathy as he gently pressed and felt the rising bruises that were appearing on the four-year-olds chest. He gently and carefully washed the blood from the elflings face, relieved to discover that his face had been mercifully left alone.
Then Legolas came to.
His glazed eyes took in the surroundings, of people he didn't know, and others who he hardly recognised. So the little elf did what every hurt or injured child would do.
He panicked.
The elfling started to thrash about, screaming for someone to help him and cursing the orc's that were holding him down. He attempted to bite, kick and punch his way out to freedom, even if it killed him.
Thranduil had no choice but to sit at the head of his sons bed and calm the elfling down.
"Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!!" his son whimpered, grasping his fathers hand as tightly as humanely (or elfanley) possible.
All his father could do was smooth the wispy hairs from his sons scared face, calming him with his hands and voice. "Shh . . . lada lay prestos." Thranduil spoke in tones that seemed to quieten the elfling greatly. "Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu."
After a few minutes the elfling let the healers work on him, not wincing or crying out when they touched a partially sore spot, only breathing in sharply.
~*~
Many hours later Thranduil walked out of the room. All his siblings and then some came rushing at the king demanding him to tell how he was doing.
"Resting," was all his father mumbled and went to his chamber, where he finally broke down. The reason for his silence and then tears was that he never knew a child could bleed so much or withstand so many toques poured down his throat.
If it had been Thranduil, he would have just limped out of there, albeit crawled before he took any of the foul substances.
The day melted into the night and Legolas laid quietly, but fidgety, dozing in his fathers arms. Thranduil's quiet mind decided to go over the situation again, back only a few hours ago when the little elfling had woken screaming in pain and vomiting up fresh blood all over the new bed sheets that had been laid over after they had finished cleaning up after healing him.
Thranduil had screamed for Taurereg to hurry or he'd be looking for a new profession. The ruffled healer had rushed in, his hair a complete mess and his cloths crumpled from sleeping down the hall in a chair. He'd skidded to a halt in the door frame, assessed the situation and called for his companions.
They had managed to settle the squirming prince, forcing another vile liquid down his young throat, then helped him wash out the blood in his mouth, then Taurereg cheerfully helped the elfling sleep once more.
Outside, however, his mood turned to the uttermost seriousness. "My lord -" he began.
"Taurereg, please, we're childhood friends, call me by my name."
Taurereg sighed heavily. "Thranduil, he's bleeding inside."
Something passed his friends faced, "Can you not simply give him a drought to soak the remaining blood?"
"More blood would simply take it's place, I fear now we are even too late, if we had found him sooner, maybe he would have a slight chance at recovering."
"What are you saying, in words I can understand."
"I fear he may not make it through the night." Taurereg soothed, carefully watching the kings eyes for any loss of mental stability. Thankfully there was none.
"You . . . you're saying that my child is going to die?" Thranduil finally stuttered. Taurereg simply nodded. "And there's nothing you can do?"
"Only lessen his pain."
Thranduil looked into the green eyes of Taurereg, and knew his best healer's normal joking manner was lost. He gave no hope because there simply was none to be found.
"Oh Valar." Was all he could say.
With that he had simply walked back into the healing chamber, to which he found his sons eyes opened. Even those few moments alone had made the elfling think he'd been abandoned. The flickering candle have gone out by a passing breeze.
Thranduil took the offered hand, and sat down besides his youngest son, gathering him in his strong arms.
"Please rooo . ." Legolas mumbled quietly and sleepily, clutching his fathers arms in a death grip, "non uu frightened."
"I'll stay the whole night." His father murmured, rubbing his sons sore tummy gently.
"All night?"
"Yes," Thranduil soothed, kissing the golden halo. "All night."
As the elfling drifted into sleep, he sighed happily.
As he felt his son relax in his embrace, Thranduil did all he could to hold back a sob of pure grief.
He was going to lose his youngest son, before he even had a chance to truly live.
****
Translations
1) Mab = hand
2) Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!! = Daddy! Help me. Make them stop. Please!!
3) Shh . . . lada lay prestos. Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu. = Shh . . . soothe your troubles. They will not pain you further. Let them help.
4) Please rooo . . non uu frightened. = Please stay . . . I am frightened
AN: Well, I'm back.
I'm writing again and don't know when I'll update next, but I'll let you guys know.
I've seen ROTK TWICE and frankly want to see it again. CANNOT wait till extended version goes out. One thing.
I met Sir Ian McKellen.
This was on New Years Eve/Day in Sydney and I was standing next to this guy about my grandfathers age when I said to him that the fireworks were terrific.
"Yes," he sighed. "But not as good as Gandalf's are."
I nodded my approval of the statement and said that if Gandalf did exist and was standing next to me I could imagine that Merry and Pippin would be off somewhere up to their old tricks.
He looked down at me (I'm only 4'7) and smiled. Looking at him I then realised I'd been talking to one of my most favourite actors for fifteen minutes and didn't even know it.
We both introduced ourselves and he asked me if I studied drama.
"No," I said stupidly. "But I like horses."
He smiled and asked, "by chance do you write?"
"Yep," I nodded proudly. "I'm a freelance author for Orange and am constantly on FF.N."
And for the rest (or most) of the night we sat watched the fireworks, counted in the new year and toasted (him with a drink I have no idea what it was and me with my coke) to 'the health and wealth of the world and the bright futures of fellowships everywhere.'
Now THAT was a new year.
Smego Baggins
PS: BtW the person who put, 'Just Curious', who are you? Let me know, please?
Snow barely crunched beneath the silent footsteps of Quendur as he and his twin snuck up on one unsuspecting orc, who was patrolling the area. Putting one of his gloved hands over it's mouth the elf silt the orcs throat and shoved him away before climbing up the trees to just above the cave.
It had only taken three minutes for the elves to come up with a plan of attack. The twins would come from the trees, kill the orcs closes to them and go back up, give a signal that all was clear and grab Legolas. But when Neldëá looked closer, she said it was too risky for him to hauled out, so assignation of the orcs was a major priority now.
Somehow, something went wrong.
An orc gave a shout and suddenly most of the elves were completely surrounded by orc's, pointing their weapons at them. It turned out that the previous orc party had banded with another twenty, leaving the young elflings completely outnumbered.
Standing, with his hands in the air, Lúrin whistled for the remaining elves, who were in the trees, to change position and take out as many as they could.
Finch whistles answered, and Lúrin looked at his remaining men, and prayed that this worked. "NOW!!!" he screamed, taking the orcs by surprise, who cried out in horror. All of them leaped into action, Lúrin taking his twin blades and shoving them in the nearest orc neck, he twirled and then put a white blade into the chest of an orc coming up behind.
Suddenly a whinnying scream was heard, and Lúrin was afraid that Jewel had been injured, but he saw that she, Marilla and the wolf were joining in on the act. Marilla slicing at ankles, while the wolf attacked above.
The twins and Dagorma, Gorë and Neldëá were doing their best to take out the orcs that came to close to Legolas's body, preventing even more injury. Meanwhile, Yávëtal sided with Cassageln, Draugdil and Rambamírë who were yelling each time they killed or injured.
But the most amazing of the fighters were Alassë and Algar, they worked with each other, using each other to fool an orc into going in the wrong direction, while the other threw a dagger or arrow.
Within minutes the fight was over and all of the enemy lay dead at the feet of the young ones, who looked at this type of power with amazement.
His weapons now held loosely in his hands, dripping orc blood down the beautiful engravings, Lúrin breathed hard, his breaths hitching in his chest as he gasped for oxygen.
Quickly composing himself, Lúrin placed his daggers in their leather covers and rushed to his brothers side.
Lifting Legolas's chin and finding the normally bright grey eyes closed, Lúrin instructed Draugdil to cut the ropes. That done, the elfling fell bonelessly onto his brothers chest and didn't move, Legolas's breathing was laboured and his chest hardly rose with each breath.
Not wanting to lay his brother amongst the enemy's blood, Lúrin bundled the young elfling in a spare cloak and lifted him gently, careful of any broken bones that were most likely suffered from being contact with the orcs and their treatment.
"Find a dry place, he's fading fast!" Lúrin cried to the others. Hearing his brothers voice, Legolas moaned and tried to call out, telling his brother that he was hurting him more. "No, shhhh, it's alright, you're safe."
~*~
Voices . . .
They were everywhere and all around him, but he couldn't be sure where they were coming from or who they belonged to.
". . . fading fast . . . " cried a panicked voice. He knew that voice, it belonged to Lúrin! Now that his body was warming, a sharp and needle-like pain was throbbing in his knee and hand, moaning to let his brother know, Legolas was only hushed.
Minutes later he was placed in a warm bed, a fire crackling next to him. Hands began to frantically pull his blood-coated jacket from his clothing, when that was done, they began to take his shirt but when they tried to pull it over his puffed hand his scream of agony froze them all.
". . . hand . . . Legolas?" Alassë's sweet voice soothed his tears for his ada, her cool hands calming his dizzily racing mind. Her voice drew him closer to waking, and not drifting between the dreaming and conscious worlds.
"He's waking," came an unfamiliar voice. This made the elf want to wake more, to quench his curiosity of who the new person was. Opening his eyes, Legolas was assaulted by bright light and faces, closing his eyes tightly as his headache slammed itself against his skull. Moaning again Legolas tried to rub his soar forehead, and found it had a light bandage, his sister had placed it there while soothing his fears.
Feeling shadows slide over his head, Legolas again attempted to open his eyes, it worked. There was no pain and his eyes didn't explode with tiny dots. Alassë smiled down at him and kissed his cheek.
"You're back," she whispered, pushing away sweaty trundles. "You had us worried. Now, what hurts to cause you to scream so?"
". . . mab . . . knee," his whispered, trying to keep himself from coughing up blood again. With that the strange elf ever so gently took and lifted his hand and inspected it, after trailing her fingers along the top of his hand, she nodded and confirmed that he had fractures within the bone.
Biting his lip, Legolas kept from crying out again, not wanting to make his sister think he was weak. Alassë noticed and bent down to his pointed ear. "Even strength needs rest, do not be ashamed."
"Non uu," he whispered in a watery voice, smiling slightly.
Alassë frowned slightly, and a slender finger touched his chin. "That's where it's coming from." Looking at the strange elf, Alassë muttered something. Nodding the female elf seemed to have suspected something also. "Are you coughing up blood, Legolas?" Alassë asked.
He hesitated for a second before nodding. Alassë's face lost a little colour but the elf maiden calmed her with a hand. "Neldëá, we need to get him home, fast."
"Yes," Neldëá whispered, looking over her shoulder worriedly, "and quickly, it now seems."
~*~
A glorious morning rose to greet the elves who walked slowly under a golden shower of light. Light streamed down from the green trees, broken only by leaves that glowed green with it's own natural magic. Lúrin carried Legolas, his hand wrapped in a set bandage and resting on his small chest. A light wind played with Lúrin's hair, tickling his brothers nose and making him wrinkly it in reaction.
They had wrapped him in many cloaks as putting the extra cloths on was to distressing for his injuries. In the parade of elves, Marilla rode on Jewel's rump, while Alassë and Cassageln rode on her back, wearily of how she'd take it as she had hated anyone riding her except her mistress, but surprisingly she took the to the riding of the other elves as if they were her own foals.
Urgency was needed but every time they sped up, the elfling would cry out in pain, so being reduced to walking was not what Legolas really needed. Legolas needed proper care, not basic knowledge of how to splint a fractured hand and bruised knee.
After checking his chest the two maidens suspected that he also had fractured or cracked ribs from the huge bruise on his chest, but apart from the obvious of him bringing up blood and a few fractures and bruises the only problem was him eating and taking fluids.
He would take nothing, even though his mouth and body screamed for liquid. Even gentle coaxing from his sister wouldn't break the strange unwillingness to eat. And so, Legolas continued to grow weaker without any nourishment or water to help sustain his small frame.
A gentle wind played with the elflings hair and Lúrin moved the stray strands from tickling the closed eyes. Sighing in frustration, Lúrin knew they still had half a days trek back to his home, it would have been cut dramatically had he been let to ride, but not daring to injure his sibling further kept the older Prince on foot.
Legolas gently groaned in his sleep and began to fidget, his face screwing up in pain. Lúrin halted and tried to shift Legolas in a more comfortable position but the elfling continued to squirm into conscious.
Finally Legolas opened his eyes and looked miserably up at his brother. "What's wrong?" Lúrin cooed to his younger brother.
At these words, Legolas went red and mumbled between a gasp.
"Pardon?" Lúrin asked confusedly.
Noticing that the rest of the group had stop, the elfling glanced at them and turned even redder. "I really need to go, Lúrin, I can't hold on any more."
Holding back his smile, Lúrin went off with his brother to take care of his needs.
"He held on for over a day?" Gayadur exclaimed in awe.
"Now THAT'S courage." His twin replied in equal wonder. ~*~
Coming up a small rise, Lúrin saw a group of scouts awaiting for the group of missing elves. These scouts were usually on the borders of Mirkwood but had been called to accompany the elves, should the need arise, unlike warriors they were experts in their field and wasted little time to watch the elves coming.
A party of them raced their horses to meet them. For the first time in Lúrin's life they became like children calling and shouting in greeting and joy. They whooped in greeting when they recognised the royal children, then they sent a scout to ride at breakneck speed back to the palace with the news. Soon another party of mounted riders appeared, this time warriors.
Rogan, Dúloth, Táralóm the healer, and Taurereg were among the second party. Táralóm immediately raced for his daughter, picking her up and hold her tightly, for his fear of his daughters death was over.
As parents and other family members hugged and cried their relief Lúrin and his other siblings continued to the healing halls with Rogan following the trio for company.
The commander opened the heavy doors for the family and Lúrin stopped dead.
Their father was sitting there, waiting for them.
Silently the king rose and walked over to his family, embracing them all, careful of not harming his child anymore than was already done to him.
For the first time in a while, their father smiled at them. "For you all, you will not be punished. I am eternally grateful, you four show a bond beyond that of simple sibling love. And it has saved you all."
With that he gently took Legolas's currently unconscious form and laid it gently on the huge feather mattress. Tears of relief and worry shone in their fathers blue eyes as he stared down at his youngest son, who looked on the verge of death.
A soft 'meow' brought him out his morbid thoughts and he saw the female cat staring at him, not asking for any comfort for itself, but clearly questioning whether he needed any.
He rose a gentle hand and held it above her head where she rose a little and rubbed her head against his soft palm. With a twitch of her fluffy tail she twirled herself around gracefully and layed on Legolas's pillow.
Thranduil caressed the tiny forehead with soft fingers, careful of the bandage that half-covered the deep gash of Legolas's brow, wondering why it was always the innocence that suffered first.
Finished from welcoming his own daughter home safely, Taurereg rushed in with his daughter hot on his heels, relating the seriousness of the princelings injuries.
Elf maids rushed around as Taurereg ordered them to gather bowls of warm water, clean towels, rags and warm clothes. His medical bags and other healing supplies were laid hastily on and round the healing room in unknown order but Taurereg seemed to know where his wanted instruments laid.
Immediately he began working on the young elfling, taking off the rest of the soiled clothing and wrapping a warm blanket around his waist. Taurereg grimaced in sympathy as he gently pressed and felt the rising bruises that were appearing on the four-year-olds chest. He gently and carefully washed the blood from the elflings face, relieved to discover that his face had been mercifully left alone.
Then Legolas came to.
His glazed eyes took in the surroundings, of people he didn't know, and others who he hardly recognised. So the little elf did what every hurt or injured child would do.
He panicked.
The elfling started to thrash about, screaming for someone to help him and cursing the orc's that were holding him down. He attempted to bite, kick and punch his way out to freedom, even if it killed him.
Thranduil had no choice but to sit at the head of his sons bed and calm the elfling down.
"Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!!" his son whimpered, grasping his fathers hand as tightly as humanely (or elfanley) possible.
All his father could do was smooth the wispy hairs from his sons scared face, calming him with his hands and voice. "Shh . . . lada lay prestos." Thranduil spoke in tones that seemed to quieten the elfling greatly. "Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu."
After a few minutes the elfling let the healers work on him, not wincing or crying out when they touched a partially sore spot, only breathing in sharply.
~*~
Many hours later Thranduil walked out of the room. All his siblings and then some came rushing at the king demanding him to tell how he was doing.
"Resting," was all his father mumbled and went to his chamber, where he finally broke down. The reason for his silence and then tears was that he never knew a child could bleed so much or withstand so many toques poured down his throat.
If it had been Thranduil, he would have just limped out of there, albeit crawled before he took any of the foul substances.
The day melted into the night and Legolas laid quietly, but fidgety, dozing in his fathers arms. Thranduil's quiet mind decided to go over the situation again, back only a few hours ago when the little elfling had woken screaming in pain and vomiting up fresh blood all over the new bed sheets that had been laid over after they had finished cleaning up after healing him.
Thranduil had screamed for Taurereg to hurry or he'd be looking for a new profession. The ruffled healer had rushed in, his hair a complete mess and his cloths crumpled from sleeping down the hall in a chair. He'd skidded to a halt in the door frame, assessed the situation and called for his companions.
They had managed to settle the squirming prince, forcing another vile liquid down his young throat, then helped him wash out the blood in his mouth, then Taurereg cheerfully helped the elfling sleep once more.
Outside, however, his mood turned to the uttermost seriousness. "My lord -" he began.
"Taurereg, please, we're childhood friends, call me by my name."
Taurereg sighed heavily. "Thranduil, he's bleeding inside."
Something passed his friends faced, "Can you not simply give him a drought to soak the remaining blood?"
"More blood would simply take it's place, I fear now we are even too late, if we had found him sooner, maybe he would have a slight chance at recovering."
"What are you saying, in words I can understand."
"I fear he may not make it through the night." Taurereg soothed, carefully watching the kings eyes for any loss of mental stability. Thankfully there was none.
"You . . . you're saying that my child is going to die?" Thranduil finally stuttered. Taurereg simply nodded. "And there's nothing you can do?"
"Only lessen his pain."
Thranduil looked into the green eyes of Taurereg, and knew his best healer's normal joking manner was lost. He gave no hope because there simply was none to be found.
"Oh Valar." Was all he could say.
With that he had simply walked back into the healing chamber, to which he found his sons eyes opened. Even those few moments alone had made the elfling think he'd been abandoned. The flickering candle have gone out by a passing breeze.
Thranduil took the offered hand, and sat down besides his youngest son, gathering him in his strong arms.
"Please rooo . ." Legolas mumbled quietly and sleepily, clutching his fathers arms in a death grip, "non uu frightened."
"I'll stay the whole night." His father murmured, rubbing his sons sore tummy gently.
"All night?"
"Yes," Thranduil soothed, kissing the golden halo. "All night."
As the elfling drifted into sleep, he sighed happily.
As he felt his son relax in his embrace, Thranduil did all he could to hold back a sob of pure grief.
He was going to lose his youngest son, before he even had a chance to truly live.
****
Translations
1) Mab = hand
2) Ada! Tulu nin. Kara hain deri. Please!! = Daddy! Help me. Make them stop. Please!!
3) Shh . . . lada lay prestos. Huin tath uu negro the further. Let hain yulu. = Shh . . . soothe your troubles. They will not pain you further. Let them help.
4) Please rooo . . non uu frightened. = Please stay . . . I am frightened
AN: Well, I'm back.
I'm writing again and don't know when I'll update next, but I'll let you guys know.
I've seen ROTK TWICE and frankly want to see it again. CANNOT wait till extended version goes out. One thing.
I met Sir Ian McKellen.
This was on New Years Eve/Day in Sydney and I was standing next to this guy about my grandfathers age when I said to him that the fireworks were terrific.
"Yes," he sighed. "But not as good as Gandalf's are."
I nodded my approval of the statement and said that if Gandalf did exist and was standing next to me I could imagine that Merry and Pippin would be off somewhere up to their old tricks.
He looked down at me (I'm only 4'7) and smiled. Looking at him I then realised I'd been talking to one of my most favourite actors for fifteen minutes and didn't even know it.
We both introduced ourselves and he asked me if I studied drama.
"No," I said stupidly. "But I like horses."
He smiled and asked, "by chance do you write?"
"Yep," I nodded proudly. "I'm a freelance author for Orange and am constantly on FF.N."
And for the rest (or most) of the night we sat watched the fireworks, counted in the new year and toasted (him with a drink I have no idea what it was and me with my coke) to 'the health and wealth of the world and the bright futures of fellowships everywhere.'
Now THAT was a new year.
Smego Baggins
PS: BtW the person who put, 'Just Curious', who are you? Let me know, please?