Legolas could feel everyone's eyes on him as they rode. It was nearing sunset, and he was tired—more tired than he expected to be. Of course, he thought. Everything I now feel is unexpected.
"Legolas—"
"No!" the elf said, looking at Aragorn. "There is no need to stop now. There will be light for another hour."
Thranduil looked at Elrond, and the king's thoughts were easily read on his face. Is this what you meant by 'pushing himself'?
Elrond shook his head. "Another hour should do him no harm…he will sleep very well tonight."
Thranduil nodded, suddenly wondering how much sleep mortals require.
The hour passed quickly, and the three elves and one human set up camp.
Aragorn quickly built a fire. Autumn had come to this part of Middle-Earth, and the air suddenly felt cold. He envied elves their amazing tolerance for extreme temperatures, but suddenly looked at Legolas, knowing that he now lacked that.
The elf was laying out his bedroll one-handed; or attempting to, at least. His movements were slow and Aragorn could see fatigue written clearly on his face. He took a step towards his friend, to help him, but Thranduil made it there first.
The two elves exchanged a few soft words that Aragorn didn't hear, and then Thranduil started pulling the bedroll closer to the fire, not far from Aragorn.
"Ada," said Legolas, louder. "Truly, I'm fine."
Shaking his head, Thranduil looked at Aragorn. "He says that he is fine!" Turning, he grabbed his son's hand. "You are cold, Legolas! Why did you not bring gloves?"
No one said anything, each of them knowing the reason; Legolas wasn't used to feeling cold, and so did not think to bring any.
Aragorn grabbed his pack, and pulled out his own. "Here."
Legolas shook his head. "I cannot take yours, Estel."
"Yes you can," said Aragorn. "If I needed them, I'd be wearing them." He handed the gloves to Thranduil, who started putting them on his son as if Legolas were an elfling.
The sight made Elrond chuckle and he walked forward, carefully bracing Legolas' injured arm as Thranduil gently put the glove on him. It was obvious that they were too big, but that didn't matter.
Legolas sighed. He hated to be treated as a weakling, but he appreciated his friend's sacrifice. "Hannon le."
"You're very welcome," said Aragorn.
Legolas smiled, sitting on his bedroll. He was colder than he'd admit; he was amazed that it didn't seem to be bothering Aragorn, and came to the conclusion that it was affecting him worse because his body was unaccustomed to feeling the effects of the weather.
Apparently Aragorn had the same thought, for as he walked passed Legolas, he dropped a pile of blankets into his lap. "Hungry, Legolas?" He suddenly stopped and turned around. "That was a foolish question."
Legolas shook his head as he tried to spread the blankets out one-handed. "It was not foolish, for I am not hungry."
All sound ceased behind them, and they turned to see Thranduil and Elrond watching Legolas with a frown.
"Did he just say that he is not hungry?" the elf-king whispered.
"Aye," Elrond replied, frowning.
Aragorn chuckled. "That is not so abnormal! Surely you recall my unpredictable appetite at times, ada."
Elrond nodded slowly. "That is true." He wondered if Legolas was becoming ill—as lack of appetite could be a symptom—but the elf merely looked tired, not sick. "Mayhap you should sleep, penneth."
Legolas was ready to protest, but saw no point in it. They would not believe him if he said that he wasn't tired; truth be told, his eyes were practically closing by themselves. The pain in his shoulder combined with the long day of traveling without his usual elven endurance had served to exhaust him.
Giving in, he nodded, laying down and trying to fix the blankets.
Aragorn knelt down and helped him. "Sleep well."
"You also," Legolas replied, smiling slightly. Closing his eyes—without realizing it—he fell asleep immediately, his last thought being that he forgot to demand that they wake him for a watch.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The next morning, Legolas woke to thick clouds and a chilly wind. He'd been depending on the warm, sunny days to lighten his mood, and inwardly sighed.
"Good morning."
Turning his head, he found Thranduil sitting beside him, holding out a cup of something that Legolas hoped was warm.
"Good morning," he replied, using his good arm to sit himself up before taking the cup.
Thranduil placed a hand on his son's back, as if helping to keep him upright.
At the contact, Legolas inwardly sighed, hating when everyone thought him weak. "Umm," he said, as he sipped the tea. "Hannon le."
Thranduil smiled at him, and Legolas returned it, seeing clearly the worry in his father's eyes.
The wind suddenly picked up, sending Legolas' hair in all directions. He had to shake his head to get it out of his face, as his left arm was still in its sling.
"How do you feel today, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked, catching his son's hair and pushing it behind his ears.
"I am fine, ada," Legolas answered. "Worry not."
"Your shoulder?"
"It feels better," said Legolas, sipping his tea again.
Thranduil smiled. "Good! There are pain-killing herbs in the tea, so that should help further."
"Do not move that arm!" Elrond suddenly said, from behind them. He walked into their line of sight and crouched before Legolas. "I know you, penneth; just because the pain lessened does not mean that your injury is healed."
Legolas smirked into the teacup. "Move my arm? Why would I want to do that?" he said, slightly sarcastic.
The two older elves smiled; glad to see the elf in good spirits.
Legolas finished his tea, handing Elrond the cup. Looking around himself, he smiled. He'd felt depressed when he'd seen the weather, but his mood had changed in the minutes after. He wondered why, but realized that it was due to his father, who he could feel was currently tying his hair back so that it wouldn't keep blowing into his face.
"Now it won't bother you while you ride," said Thranduil, upset that his son only had one usable arm.
"Hannon le, ada," Legolas said. "For everything." He smiled, only now realizing that Thranduil had left his kingdom in someone else's hands—he dreaded asking whose—to go with them, to be with his son when he needed him so badly.
The elf-king smiled back, wrapping an arm around Legolas and laying his head against his son's.
A loud sniff suddenly filled the air, and they turned to see Aragorn wiping away fake tears.
Legolas laughed at the sight, pulling his legs under himself as he prepared to stand.
Thranduil took his good arm and helped him up, leading him to the other side of the fire.
"Hungry now, Legolas?" Aragorn asked.
Legolas nodded, sitting on a large rock and glancing around to see what they had for breakfast.
Aragorn took a pack off his horse and rummaged through it. Taking out a bag, he opened it and took something out.
Legolas grinned at the sight of the strawberry pastry. "You spoil me, mellon-nin!"
Aragorn smiled, handing it to his friend. "Consider it paying you back for how much you spoiled me when I was a child."
Legolas' smile widened as memories came back to him…memories of giving the tiny Estel pastries and sweets, and Elrond's puzzlement when the young human wasn't hungry for supper.
After everyone finished eating, they broke camp and rode off again, intently watching the darkening clouds.
"Today will not go smoothly," said Elrond.
Thranduil sighed in agreement.
They were soon proven right. It started to rain very heavily a few hours later, with the wind greatly picking up in intensity.
Legolas was miserable. The chill of the wind and rain seemed to be soaking into his bones, but he didn't want to stop everyone so that he could dig out another cloak.
Thranduil rode his horse beside Legolas, their steeds practically touching. He could see the discomfort in his son, and yelled to Elrond, "We should seek out shelter!"
"Not on my account!" Legolas exclaimed.
"Yes, on your account!" Thranduil said, without thinking. "You are not what you were, Legolas…you will drive yourself to illness!"
"By riding in the rain?!" Legolas said.
Thranduil stopped, sighing as he wiped rainwater out of his eyes. "No, ion-nin…forgive me, I worry for you."
Legolas stopped his horse also, hoping that no one could see his shivering. He raised his good arm and wiped the rain from his own eyes. The wind suddenly gusted stronger, and he wasn't able to hide a shiver.
Elrond saw it. "We should seek out shelter," he shouted, to be heard over the storm. "There is no reason to deal with such weather!"
Aragorn agreed. Visibility was very poor, and the rain suddenly started to fall even heavier, if possible.
"If we leave the path, the forest grows very dense to our west," said Thranduil. "Follow me!"
Everyone obeyed, Aragorn replacing Thranduil at Legolas' side. It was a good thing that he did, for as Legolas' mare changed direction, her left front hoof slipped in the mud and jolted Legolas, who didn't expect it and slid to the left, unable to catch himself with his arm in a sling.
Aragorn saw, and quickly grabbed his friend, succeeding in keeping him on the horse. However, since Aragorn had been to the elf's left, he'd had to grab his injured arm to prevent him from falling.
Legolas winced, biting his lip to avoid making a sound that would alert his father to his distress.
Aragorn mirrored the wince, sympathetic to the pain that he knew he'd accidentally caused. "Forgive me."
Legolas nodded as Aragorn helped him straighten up. "Do not apologize. The pain would have been much worse had I fallen. Hannon le."
Aragorn smiled in reply, making sure that Legolas was steady before they rode off again.
The wind's effect decreased as they rode further from the path, and the rain's intensity lessened as the trees blocked it.
Legolas was immensely relieved. It had been a very long time since he had been so soaked, injured, and cold. He noticed suddenly that he had a headache, and wondered if he was becoming ill.
They rode further and further, hoping to quickly find the thickest point of the forest. It didn't take long before the rain finally stopped hitting them, and they quickly dismounted from their steeds.
Everyone surrounded Legolas' horse, intent on helping him down.
Legolas gave them a glare, making Aragorn smile. The human whispered in the horse's ear and she obediently knelt.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Legolas stepped off the horse and sat on a fallen log, watching as Aragorn built a fire. The glare from the flames suddenly made his headache worse, and he unintentionally winced.
"Legolas?" he heard. Looking up, he saw that Thranduil was standing over him.
"Are you all right?" the king asked.
Legolas nodded carefully. "Aye."
Thranduil looked like he wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, but he sat on the log beside his son and began unfastening the wet cloak around Legolas' neck.
"Ada!" said Legolas, growing annoyed. "I am not an elfling! I can take care of myself!"
Thranduil made no move to stop. "Not with only one arm you can't."
Aragorn and Elrond shot an amused look at each other, but they wisely kept silent.
Legolas sighed loudly as Thranduil continued his actions. The younger elf started to stand, to escape his father, but Thranduil grabbed his good shoulder and pushed him back down. It sent a jolt of pain through his head, and before he had a chance to think first, he loudly exclaimed, "Why must everyone treat me as a child?! I am nearly three thousand years old!"
Elrond's eyebrows flew up at the unexpected outburst, and Thranduil's hands abruptly stopped. Aragorn sighed, shooting his friend a sympathetic look.
Legolas realized that he'd most likely angered his father, and that combined with his increasing headache made him groan as he dropped his face into his hand.
Thranduil knelt before him, placing his hand on his son's wet hair. "Ion-nin…"
Hearing compassion in the king's voice instead of anger, Legolas raised his pounding head.
"I do not mean to treat you as a child," said Thranduil. "My actions are borne out of love and concern. I see that my son needs help, and so I hasten to offer it. You are all that I have, Legolas, and it pains me to watch you suffer. If I can in any way ease that suffering, I eagerly do it."
Legolas was touched by his father's words, and he lowered his head again. "Forgive me."
"I cannot be angry at you, Legolas," said Thranduil, sitting on the log and wrapping his arms around his son, careful of his injured shoulder. "You are going through a terrible ordeal, and it is normal to feel frustrated. I understand."
Legolas sighed, closing his eyes as he rested his aching head against his father's shoulder.
Elrond studied Legolas' features, noticing that he looked pale. The threat of illness was all too real, so he walked forward and placed a hand on the prince's forehead. He thankfully found no fever, but he could plainly feel by the tension in the younger elf that he was in some kind of pain. "Is it your shoulder?" he asked.
"No," Legolas said. He abruptly opened his eyes, realizing that by his answer, he was admitting that something else pained him.
"Something pains you besides your shoulder?" Thranduil asked, nervously looking at his son.
Legolas sighed again, as Aragorn sat on the other side of him.
"Let me guess," said the human. "You have a headache."
Legolas' eyebrows shot up. "How did you know?"
"I can tell," Aragorn said. "How many times have we traveled together? I can read you very well, mellon-nin."
Legolas smiled slightly.
"When did it begin?" Elrond asked. "Do you have any other symptoms?"
Legolas raised his head from his father's shoulder. "I noticed it an hour ago. There is nothing else."
"How bad is the pain?" Elrond asked, retrieving his healing pack.
"Not too bad," Legolas lied, even as the pain grew. "It is only on one side."
Elrond's eyebrows rose. "One side? Is it a pulsing, throbbing pain?"
Legolas started to nod, but caught himself. "Yes, exactly."
Elrond winced with sympathy. "Ai, penneth…that is a malady that affects many humans…do not attempt to hide your pain, for I know that it is worse than you'd ever admit."
Thranduil tightened his hold on his son, looking extremely worried.
Elrond took a waterskin and dropped some herbs into it. "Here," he said, handing it to him. "Has your vision or stomach been affected?" he asked.
Legolas frowned as he took the waterskin. "No…should they be?"
Elrond smiled. "They are in some people, but not all. You are fortunate."
Legolas was relieved at those words and drank the medicine. Tipping his head back increased the pain, and when he lowered it back down again, it suddenly felt as if a knife had stabbed him in the temple.
Unable to stop himself, he groaned, covering his right eye and the side of his head with his hand.
"Legolas?" Thranduil said, his worry growing.
"Hush," said Elrond. "Loud sounds will increase his pain. So will movement, Legolas, so try to keep your head still."
Legolas said nothing, eyes clenched tight as he waited for the stabbing to ease.
Thranduil gently pulled his son's head to rest against his shoulder again, sighing as he wished that there was something that he could do to help him. He felt powerless, hating that he could do nothing but watch as his son suffered. Why? he thought to himself. Raenwe had wanted to inflict me with the vanwacoi…Thranduil sighed again. Why did he have to do this to Legolas instead? Ai, I would gladly have taken his place…
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Poor Legolas! Now he has a migraine, lol. Everyone who can sympathize, raise your hand with me! (wince)