A/N: The idea was that taking the trainee warriors out on their first watch is a horrible, almost punishment-worthy task. Samson had not the slightest clue which elflings he was in charge of, because he was too busy moping that it was his turn to do it. Anyway, finally decided to update. Glad you like it, please R/R if it gets more popular, I'll update faster next time.
Chapter two
Running half-delirious through the Mirkwood underbrush, Samson felt the young prince stir in his arms. He stopped and gently placed the waking elfling on the forest floor, brushing the golden hair from his fevered face. Legolas's azure eyes suddenly snapped open, his breathing becoming labored and hitching in his chest. Trying not to worsen the prince's expected panic attack, Samson gently rolled him on his less injured side so he wouldn't choke on the blood in was now coughing up in considerable volume.
"There now," Samson soothed, stroking Legolas's hair. "Be calm. I have to get you back to your father." The young elf seemed to frightened to speak, or perhaps he was not able. "Settle down. It's going to be alright. I need you to keep still so I can assess your wounds."
He placed a steadying hand on the injured prince's shoulder as he examined the arrow hole in the elfling's chest. The deep tear was bleeding a purplish color that worried Samson greatly. "This has to come out." He said to Legolas, gesturing at the arrowhead that was still inside him. "I think it may have been poisoned. This is going to hurt, but I'll do it as quickly as I am able."
He stuck to fingers into the wound, grasping the arrowhead almost immediately and pulling it out. Legolas jerked violently and cried out as the barbed metal cleared his flesh. "Hush." Said Samson, still trying to pacify him. "I know it hurts, but we must be quiet lest the orcs catch us." He tore a strip of fabric from his cloak and used it to bind the terrible wound.
"Do you hurt anywhere else?" Samson whispered comfortingly. When Legolas didn't say anything he added, "You must speak to me, Thranduillion. I have to know."
The elfling opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything he turned his head and vomited on the ground. Samson sighed, knowing it was the poison taking effect, and rubbed Legolas's back gently. When he had finished, Samson helped pull him into a sitting position. All color had drained from the princeling's fair face, and he was shaking violently.
"You need a healer. I'm going to pick you up, do not be frightened." Samson said, before lifting him gently into his arms.
0o0o0o0o0
Samson never knew how he made it the rest of the way to the palace that night. All he remembered was Legolas tossing feverishly in his arms, and how finally he had reached he palace, collapsing in front of the king, only just able to tell him of the invading orcs, and to shout for a healer, the prince still clutched in his arms.
