Hey everyone! Thanks for the awesome reviews! Here's chapter 4:)
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Heredil somehow managed to ride through most of the night, giving Nifredil a break by riding Gwaeren. He was still emotionally numb, his mind denying Legolas' death and paying no heed to his own injuries.
A tired whinny suddenly filled the air, and he abruptly realized that Gwaeren had slowed. Allowing her to stop, he slid off her back and unexpectedly fell to his knees. His shoulder and head throbbed, and he closed his eyes, wincing.
A wet nose on either side of his face made him reopen them, and he smiled at the horses despite his agony. "Rest," he croaked out, lowering himself to the ground.
Nifredil obeyed and knelt, but Gwaeren started to pace, swishing her tail nervously.
Heredil knew that the horse was upset, being very attached to Legolas. He also knew from their location that he had about twelve more hours of riding; he would indeed make it in record time.
Pulling himself towards Nifredil, he leaned against her wearily, trying to stay awake. He knew that he would be out for hours if he fell asleep.
Reaching for his bag of healing supplies, Heredil looked through the herbs, searching for something that would act as a stimulant, to keep him awake. Finding an herb that would do the job, he dropped it into his waterskin and drank it before calling to Gwaeren.
The mare trotted over to him, with a pleading look in her eyes.
"Take rest," he said, petting her nose. "An hour will not make a difference with our…situation," he said, voice shaking.
The horse turned away and paced a few more times before finally obeying, lowering to her knees.
Heredil sighed and lay there in a tired stupor for an hour, before rising and again going on their way.
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The door to Legolas' room suddenly opened, and Aragorn and Elrond turned as the twins finally came in.
"We have learned much," Elladan said, before their father or brother could ask. "Legolas did not come to Imladris alone! He had a companion who was also wounded, but returned to Mirkwood."
"Returned!" said Aragorn, shocked. "Whoever it was left Legolas there to die!"
"Perhaps not," said Elrohir. "We found many footprints near the bloodstain left by the other Mirkwood elf. Whoever they belonged to apparently forced the elf home, for we found hoofprints going back towards Mirkwood."
Aragorn shook his head. "Why did they let the other elf go, but leave Legolas there?"
"And, who were the attackers," said Elrohir. "The footprints were left by humans."
Aragorn looked at Elrond, eyebrows raised.
"It also seems that the other elf took Legolas' horse back with him," said Elladan. "Both sets of hoofprints left the scene together. It appears that the elf fell unconscious, and the attackers literally put him on his horse and sent him back, with both horses."
"Mayhap your arrival prevented them from inflicting the killing blow on Legolas," said Elrond. "His injuries had to have been inflicted only moments before you found him, or Legolas would have bled to death."
Everyone was quiet for a minute, pondering everything that they'd heard.
"But who are these men?" said Aragorn. "And why do they hate Legolas?"
"That," said Elladan. "Is what we must quickly discover."
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Heredil had never been so glad to see the Mirkwood palace gate. At the same time though, he dreaded what he was going to tell Thranduil.
Riding into the courtyard, he watched as a group of guards rushed towards him, concerned at his appearance.
"Captain!" yelled one of them, seeing the blood on Heredil's clothes. "You must get to a healer!"
"No!" Heredil exclaimed, throwing off the concerned hands. "I need to speak to Thranduil!"
The other elves saw sudden tears well up in the wounded elf's eyes, and the implications were staggering.
"Heredil!"
Turning, everyone parted as King Thranduil hurried towards them, having been alerted to his friend's unexpected arrival in the night. "Heredil! What has happened!"
Heredil closed his eyes for a minute, dreading the words that he would have to tell his old friend. "We need to speak," he said, barely able to get out the words. "Alone."
Thranduil took in the sight of his friend, noting the blood and obvious exhaustion. Taking his friend's arm, he pulled it over his own shoulder, uncaring of the blood that would likely get onto his royal robes.
The rest of the elves nervously watched as their King helped his friend out of their sight.
"Who did this to you?" Thranduil asked, helping Heredil into the palace and to his sitting room. "Why did you return after escorting my son to Rivendell?"
Heredil's stomach clenched at mention of Legolas. "We were attacked…"
"Both of you?" said the King, kicking open the door and bringing Heredil to a couch. "Is Legolas all right?"
Heredil closed his eyes, unable to answer. "We were stopped at Rivendell's border. A voice called out to us that Mirkwood elves are no longer welcome in Imladris."
"Impossible!" said Thranduil, sitting his friend down.
Heredil sighed, leaning his head back. "That was my first thought. Legolas thought the threat to be a jest by one of his friends."
Thranduil turned to face him. "But it was not, I can see!" he said, gesturing to the blood on his friend's clothes.
Heredil sighed again, from where he sat. "No."
"What happened next?" Thranduil asked, nervously. "What of Legolas?"
Heredil forced himself to meet the king's eyes. "They…fired at us." He lowered his gaze. "Legolas was the first hit."
Fear came into Thranduil's eyes. "Where?"
"Left shoulder," Heredil answered. "We fired back, but could not tell where our foes were." He paused for a second, swallowing hard. "For some reason, they targeted Legolas…"
Thranduil's heart began to race.
Heredil closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Forgive me, Your Highness, please…"
Thranduil frowned at the royal title, his anxiety growing. "Why do you address me such, mellon-nin?"
"I fear that I will be your mellon no longer," Heredil whispered, obviously fighting tears.
Thranduil threw himself to his knees before his friend. "Why!" he asked, dreading Heredil's answer, his heart telling him what it was before the other elf spoke.
"I failed to protect your son," Heredil said. "He was hit again: in his other arm, a leg…" he swallowed again, his throat nearly closing up. "And his chest," he whispered.
Thranduil stared at his friend, almost unable to process the words.
Heredil closed his eyes again as the tears escaped, grief and guilt overwhelming him.
King Thranduil slowly rose, saying nothing. Turning around, he stood with his back to his friend, covering his face with trembling hands.
Heredil glanced at him before closing his eyes again as he waited for words of banishment.
Thranduil stood that way for another minute, before suddenly asking, "Was he alive when you saw him last?" His voice shook badly.
Heredil squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "I do not know."
Thranduil turned around then, looking frantic. "You do not know!"
"He spoke," Heredil said. "He told me to leave. Our foes had come out of hiding, and commanded me to return to Mirkwood without Legolas. I refused, but Legolas tried to force me." He sighed. "His eyes closed then, and that was the last thing that I remember, before I woke lying across my horse."
Thranduil looked stricken. He stared at his friend, breathing too fast as his heart raced with fear for his son. Without another word, he strode towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Heredil asked, struggling to stand.
"To find my son!" Thranduil nearly shouted.
"Wait!" Heredil exclaimed. "I am coming!"
Thranduil stopped with his hand on the door handle, turning to look at his friend. "You are not fit to, Heredil! You will only slow me down!"
"No!" Heredil exclaimed, though he knew the words to likely be true. "Let me have my wound seen to and then—"
"I'm leaving right now, Heredil!"
"It has nearly been three days, Thranduil!" said the wounded elf. "One more hour won't matter!"
The King blinked, realizing the truth in his friend's words. He also understood Heredil's need to go. Sighing, he knew that he couldn't leave his friend here, wallowing in grief and guilt. Besides, he knew that it would take some time to make ready for the trip. "All right," he said. "Come."
Heredil smiled his relief, as the King once more wrapped an arm around him and helped him from the room.
