Here comes the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Thanks again to all who read, review and of course to San (your comments were much appreciated, mellon-nin, thank you.)
I wish a very Happy Easter to all who celebrate it - have a wonderful time!
Alina
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine at all (maybe I´ll get an elf in an Easter Egg? Guess not...)
Joined efforts
When the odour floated towards Legolas upon dark wings of smoke it was so strong that he felt his stomach lurch in fear. There was more to it than burned wood. Hidden deeply within the spicy, heavy scent was a sweet note that spoke of flesh. Flesh that had been devoured by the flames. Flesh that had been scorched and crumbled, the only trace left of it the sickening smell drifting on the air.
Trying to erase the images that rose unbidden from his mind, the elf forced himself to concentrate on his other senses. The column of smoke that snaked into the skies not far ahead had thinned since he had started watching it, telling him that the fire was beginning to die.
No more flesh to burn, the child was so small...
Straining his ears, he made out the distant echo of voices that yelled in pain or anger. They were human and too far gone for him to make out any words, but he did not miss the female note that slipped into the sound time and again.
Bethran was a good woman. She would fight for the child, cry for the child...
The horse stumbled tiredly beneath him and he was quickly pulled out of his musings by the pain that shot through his side as he instinctively balanced the animal's misstep. The mare whinnied in distress and he reached out a hand to caress her neck.
"I am sorry", he whispered sincerely, "but we must make haste as long as hope lingers, my friend."
Did hope linger, he could not help asking himself? Or had it long passed beyond his reach?
He felt driven to find out, driven by a clenching fear that he knew well. It confused him to feel it now. So often had he searched for elven warriors, so often ridden home under the shadow if guilt when he found them dead after they had followed his orders. And yet, he had learned to live with the weight of command, having been brought up to bear it.
He did not know when the adan child had become his responsibility, much less when his care for the young one had become personal. So short was the life destined to the last-born that he felt the injustice of it all tear his heart. He could only pray to the Valar that he had not cut short what had never been meant to last for long.
Well aware that his choices seemed to go wrong of late, Legolas steeled himself for what he would see when the horse finally closed in on the smouldering ruins of what had once been a home, a shelter that took in weary travellers.
Little was left of the sturdy structure. The roof had collapsed onto the walls, creating a pile of black, scorched beams and boards. A tiny part of Legolas´ soul mourned the loss of the trees that had been sacrificed to build the house, but his greater fear was another. His eyes flew across the site, searching for life.
Any spark of life.
Flames still danced across some of the fallen wood; small red-yellow flickers that seemed to taunt the elf with their imitation of life. Black smoke lingered, marring the air and blackening the view on the snow beneath. Legolas felt death close in and shuddered. He had failed again. He had leant a hand in cutting off a life threat so short it had barely even begun.
His eyes grew distant when his mind raced ahead, propelling him into the lofty halls of Imladris. He remembered well the way the child had been held in Elrohir´s gentle arms. He recalled the fear in the younger twin´s eyes when he had thought the small human in danger. The wood-elf could see the fear turn to anger and hatred upon the news he would be forced to bring and his heart froze.
Darkness moved before him, drawing closer. Begging for his attention.
With an effort, Legolas focused and was amazed to see Bowder´s great black dog creeping towards him with obvious difficulty. The beast seemed to have gotten wet, and icicles had begun to form in his tangled fur.
"Beakon", the elf breathed, the simple name suddenly transforming into a promise of light, "What has befallen you? Is the child with you?"
Legolas slipped off the horse and hastened to the dog. He quickly found Beakon´s tracks in the snow and he followed them with his eyes, his heart beginning to race. There, nestled close to one of the still burning logs, lay a tiny, shivering form. The elf was beside the child before he had even told his limbs to move.
For a heartbeat he faltered, afraid to touch the boy. He had some warrior´s training in treating injuries, but he was at a loss what to do with this human child. Nothing would be worse than finding the little one and then making him worse by treating him too roughly...Yet when a small, chattering whimper escaped the bluish lips, the elf forgot all caution and gently pulled the boy into his arms.
He felt the small human shiver and he instinctively began to rub the child´s back and arms, trying to get some warmth back into the wet, cold skin. "What did you do now, tithen gaurwath?" (little rascal) he chided softly, "how did you get so wet?"
When he received no answer, he carefully shifted the boy enough to gaze into his face. His heart skipped a beat when he found the grey eyes closed, and he had to forcefully remind himself that this was no elf, but a human who regularly slept in such fashion. Yet, he doubted that the child was asleep. The sickly blue tinge stayed on his lips and his face was starkly white.
Gently tapping one cheek, Legolas tried to coax a response from the still form. "Come on now, will you not awake and tell me of your newest adventure?"
No response.
Still rubbing the child´s skin, the wood elf frantically tried to find something else he could do when suddenly Beakon appeared by his side. He had completely forgotten about the dog. The great black head moved to sniff the human´s hair, and then a rough tongue began to trace wet traces along the boy´s temple and face.
To Legolas´ great relief, the child crunched up his face in silent disapproval and weakly moved his arms as if to push the dog away. Heavy eyelids lifted ever so slightly, a slit of shimmering grey appearing beneath them.
"Welcome back, ôl-faron" (dream hunter), Legolas greeted him with a chuckle of relief, "how do you feel?"
A slight crease appeared upon the usually smooth forehead and the eyes opened a little wider, a hint of annoyance glimmering in them.
"Rhing" (Cold) the boy whispered hoarsely, "a mesg." (and wet)
Suddenly realizing that he had not removed the soaking clothes, Legolas could have slapped himself. He rarely dealt with anybody who truly suffered from cold as the young adan did, but he knew full well that wet garments did nothing to ease the feeling. Looking around, he quickly came to a decision. Without letting go of the boy, he pulled some of the still burning beams from the debris and thus built a little fire.
Scooting closer to its flames, he undressed the boy as swiftly as he could and then wrapped him in the cloak Bowder had given him earlier. He was thankful now for the thick, woollen fabric that would offer some comfort. The child´s shaking had grown worse despite his best efforts and he once again took the boy into his embrace, rubbing the small frame gently. Arms crept around his neck and he felt the child bury his face against his neck. Unsure what to make of this, he patted the unruly black hair soothingly.
After a while, the child relaxed in his arms and the deep, steady breaths told Legolas that the boy had fallen into a deep and hopefully healing sleep. Settling back against the ruins of the house, the elf tried to make himself comfortable. He carefully plied the slender arms off his neck and tugged them back into the warm coat. The horse had approached and now stood to his left and Beakon sank down by his side, placing a still wet and slightly smelly head upon the elf´s thigh.
Legolas held on to the child in his arms, struggling to understand the intense relief he felt. The small form felt incredible fragile in his grasp. It was as if he had snatched the boy away from a chasm that had been about to swallow him. Yet, the young one continued to shiver slightly, and Legolas suspected that the danger had not yet passed. He knew humans were prone to get ill, and the thought that the child might still succumb to his mortality despite his best efforts scared him.
He knew how to fight enemies, but how to defend a mortal against the claws of fever and weakness?
The only answer he found was rest. His heart burned to mount the horse and race after Glorfindel, eager to be reunited with the twins. Eager to head for Imladris and find someone to hand the child to, someone who knew better than him how to handle the immense responsibility the boy represented. Even so, he could feel the shadow of death linger above the decision to leave. Could he risk a life, if only a mortal one, for his own comforts and peace of mind?
Legolas sighed and tried to become comfortable. Only a short rest, he told himself. Only a few hours to allow the child to battle the illness that might threaten him now after getting so cold. He would set out after his friends then, and he desperately hoped that he would be able to hand them a living adan child when he reached them.
The elf absent-mindedly patted the wet dog and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when he pictured what he had to look like now. He could not help but chuckle. "My father would not approve of this at all", he told the animals, aware of the truth of his words despite his mirth, "going through all this trouble for a human child, with no one but a smelly dog and an old mare for company."
Both animals were unmoved by his words, and he sighed. His own exhaustion crawled back into his bones. One night of sleep had not been enough for him to heal, and he knew that he would have to be careful lest he would fall asleep also.
"Wake me if I doze off", he told Beakon, but a resonating snore that vibrated through his leg told him that his request came too late. Gazing down upon the dog, he grimaced.
"Fine." Legolas could not quite keep the grumble out of his voice. "Leave the watch to the elf."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"My lord Glorfindel!"
The Balrog slayer was startled by the cry that rang out as soon as he neared the human village. He was pleased that sentinels had already been placed so far out to secure the small collection of houses, but the urgency in the warrior´s voice alerted him.
"Aye", he acknowledged briskly. There was no time for pleasantries. He brought his horse to a gentle stop, mindful not to jar the unconscious elf in his arms. To both sides elves slipped from the silent trees, and the one who had called to him bowed slightly, his worried eyes finding the twin, but his calm words addressed to the blonde fighter.
"My Lord, you are asked to come to the village´s town hall. News has arrived from Imladris and your council is badly needed."
The blond elf nodded and urged his horse back into a quick canter. His mind was already sorting through all possibilities of what might have transpired in his long-time home, one worse than the other. He resolutely ordered himself to stop, for it was useless to worry about tragedies that might not have happened.
Instead, his schooled eye took in the changes that had occurred in the village. Debris and bodies had been removed, and only the blood that still stained the snow spoke of the feast death had held here not long ago. He saw archers, both human and elven, on several rooftops around him, and light tracks that spread away from the houses told of many more sentinels and possibly scouts that had been sent out.
From the look of it, too many elves had left the village to keep it well-guarded. A suspicion formed in his mind and he was not at all surprised when he saw fresh elven horses tethered to several buildings. He raised his eyebrows, however, at the more sturdy mounts, bearing saddle and bridle, that rested beside them. Human-bread steeds, and surely not from the village.
He quickly drew closer the town hall, the building at the centre of the village that he had earlier mistaken for a barn. He had fought long and hard to keep the doors from being breached, the silent cries of women and children behind the wooden walls fuelling his fury and keeping him from moving on. Keeping him from helping the twins.
Word of his arrival had travelled more swiftly than he had, and he was awaited already by Calen. The pale young healer stepped beside him as soon as his horse had come to a stop, holding out his arms to relieve Glorfindel of his burden. The older elf was reluctant to let go of Elrohir, more so than he dared to admit to himself. One could not allow one's feelings to disturb one's actions as long as war raged the lands.
He was startled by the thought. He had not fought in a war in a long time, yet this felt like it.
Calen gently adjusted his grip on the younger twin and then looked up at Glorfindel who had yet to dismount. "You are needed inside", the healer said quietly, "and you may be assured that I will not let Elrohir out of my sight. His heart will be eased when he rests next to his brother. They ever heal better when the other one is close."
The Balrog Slayer nodded his thanks at Calen before he slipped off his steed and strode towards the door. He was grateful for the information the young one had supplied him with so subtly. Both twins were alive, both cared for. Now he needed to send help out to Estel and Legolas, and face what else lay ahead.
He pushed open the heavy doors, still marked with the arrows that had pounded into them during the battle, and found himself in a large room. Its middle was dominated by a large, round table, and collected around it were a number of Imladris elves and several humans. Some were clad in the dark greens that distinguished the Rangers.
Before Glorfindel could even make his presence known, a large figured turned to him and he looked into the drawn features of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell.
"My heart rejoices to see you well, mellon-nin."
Glorfindel smiled in return to the greeting and answered: "As are your twin sons. Your youngest has been found also. The same goes for the Mirkwood prince."
A small light was lit in the tired eyes by these words, but Elrond´s features remained drawn. Drained even. Glorfindel suddenly realized that his friend must have used Vilya only a short while ago. His eyes widened and his heart began to race.
"Aye", Elrond agreed sadly, "our troubles have expanded, my friend. Greatly so."
TBC
Review responses:
Angel: Lol, who does not want chocolate? Aww, poor you - I do try to update regularly but you know how it is - RL, job, so many things that can get in the way. I hope you´ll hang in there and keep reading :) Lol, I´m sure Elrohir would appreciate some comfort, and he´s not the only one.
Melg: Who says a liking for Legolas angst is twisted? Not me, that´s for sure, hehe, and yes, there´s more on the way (but not only for him). Glad you like the story!
Victorious Light: Lol, Beakon is very happy you like him hands over dog who gives slobbery kiss He is a cute one ;-) Bowder is in trouble indeed - but Legolas is not mad at all - well, no more than usual. Seriously, he just considers Estel his responsibility now, that´s why he so eager to find him (plus he may like the kid just a little, lol).
Me: Hehe, nope, Legolas did not find an "Estelcicle", thank goodness. And I agree, the twins rock :)
QuinlanRamsey: Thank you, I´m happy you ´continue to like the story. I really like Estel myself, never thought he would grow on me like that.
Carawen: Thank you! I bet Estel would love to be home soon, but I´m afraid - he´ll have to wait a bit.
Ashlyns: Me too - even though writing Elvish is sort of tough, considering the huge gaps in the vocabulary Tolkien has left us with :)
Romen: Sorry if the chapter was too short ;-) But hey, Legolas did not leave Estel in a burning home, it was perfectly safe when he left - poor elf seems to make a lot of wrong choices of late.
NightShadow131: Lol, I hope the update was soon enough. Yeps, the change in temperatures was not easy on Estel, yes, Bowder is in trouble and no, Legolas and the kid are not safe yet. Hehe, I know I´m mean, sorry about that ;-)
HarryEstel: Hmm - returning home? Sounds good but won´t happen just yet, I´m afraid :) But the raiders won´t get away, that I can promise.
Slayer3: Hehe, it sounds like all we need to do is send you after the raiders and they´d be begging for mercy in no time. Well, if you would like to help... begins to draw a map
Ithil-valon: You are so right, poor Estel. At least the "thunder" was Legolas´ horse, but they are not out of trouble yet.
Elvingirl3737: Lol - Swahili? How do you know that´s what he speaks if you don´t speak it yourself? But in any case, can´t you just return him for an English-speaking version? ;-) Lol, I loved the "kidcicle" - hope you don´t mind me using that quote, sort of, in one of the other review responses. And yes, good thing Legolas arrived in time. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, too.
A big hug to all of you - thanks!