A/N: And now we turn out attention back to where we left off in chapter 14. Don't forget to review. I know you guys are reading this….. And sorry for the late update. Real Life™ problems…

Chapter 16: Rescuer rescued

Slowly, consciousness began re-settling, and scents invaded his nostrils. Grass, he easily recognized, along with the strong scent of earth were the first to enter his mind. Blood came secondly, masked partly by the scent of flowers and females. A mild overtone of spices and green forests separated one from the other two – and he had experienced that scent often enough to decide it to be an elf's.

His nerves began working as the next, immediately shipping signals about impossible pain straight to his mind and causing him to give a light groan before he managed to stop it. Thankfully, he could feel he lay on his stomach, soft grass against his cheek revealing that he had not yet moved from the meadow, and the sound of someone chatting with slightly high-pitched voices managed to make its way to his brain.

Taking a steadying breath, he forced his body to ignore the pain and pushed up on his arms, rolling around to sit on the grass. It was difficult breathing, but the initial shock his body had received was fast fading, allowing his experience from long years of living in the wild to take over. He remembered a very similar situation he had experienced while travelling through some of the mountains in Harad, and he had met an angry lion. It, too, had tried to tear out his spine, and although the encounter had ended with the lion's death, the wounds it had left behind were not all too different from these ones.

The only main difference aside from the move in geography, the dark elf thought wryly, was that he back then did not have two completely hysterical humans and one mildly terrified elf sitting near…

Slowly letting out his breath, he quickly made an estimation of the situation – a habit he always had had, and probably would maintain until his dying day. The females looked only slightly more panicked than they had right after the bear had left. His shirt was not stuck to his back through dried blood, meaning that he had only passed out for a minute or two. However, he felt light-headed, and the continuous stream of warmth down his back told him that the wounds would need wrapping – and fast.

The two human women accompanying the Lady Arwen were sitting on the ground, hugging each other and giving frightened, panicking noises although his vocabulary was not extensive enough to determine what exactly they were saying. Glancing around briefly, ignoring the nausea that the movement of his eyes caused, he spotted immediately the reason for why the bear had not torn his back completely to pieces – his backpack had been shredded by the massive claws, but, apparently, had managed to keep the worst of the damage away from him.

Leaning forward, gritting his teeth against the agony of stretching the damaged areas, he searched through the torn pack and pulled out the bandages he always carried with him. The bear had probably not cleaned its claws before going to the meadow with its young, but washing the wounds would have to wait. For now, the most important things were to keep his blood inside his body and calming down the three females.

Grasping the torn tunic, he pulled it over his head, an involuntary hiss escaping him as torn cloth was pulled from the wounds, and dropped the damaged piece of clothing to the ground. However, gentle hands took the bandage from him, and, glancing up, saw the Lady Arwen kneeling before him. Even though a slight look of horror remained in her eyes, she had folded her face into a mask void of expression – a look that the dark elf had seen often enough on experienced healers.

Understanding her intention, he wordlessly raised his arms into the air, sucking in air and shutting his eyes as the movement caused another wave of pain to explode from his back and made the world momentarily spin. Fighting the nausea and desire to faint, he allowed the female to wrap the bandage around his chest, stopping the flow of blood and preventing further filth from entering the wounds.

"We must away," he said, nodding in the direction of the great city that could be seen in the distance while the Lady tied the bandages. "Wild animals come to blood."

The eyes of the two hand maidens went wide at the mention of further beasts, and they looked around frantically, as if expecting a pack of wolves to bear down on them at any moment. It caused a light smile to spread across his face, although he fought back the desire to break out in laughter – it would do more harm than good to joke with those females, at least at the current time.

Picking up one of the two blankets he owned, he quickly placed the few things that his backpack had contained within them, and rose to his feet. The world was unsteady, but he managed to keep his balance – and that would suffice for now, as long as it meant they could begin moving. However, his change in terrain level allowed him a better view of the path to Minas Tirith, and he blinked, wondering if his mind was creating the clouds of dust and horses he saw moving towards them.

However, if one should judge from the way the two handmaidens leaped to their feet and started hopping up and down, shrieking something that he did not quite understand over and over as they waved their arms in the air, he was not the only one seeing the horsemen. Guards from King Elessar's court, he decided, as the horses finally drew near enough for the white tree on their chests to be visible. He recognized it from when King Elessar had been in Leglas' forest, as the escort had worn the same type of armour.

However, as the riders moved closer to them, the dark elf realised that he was leaning more and more onto Lady Arwen as his own balance was failing and flashes of darkness began invading his vision. By the time the horses finally reached the four, his bloodloss was finally kicking in and he had moved to the ground, preferring to sit down in case his mind should blank out completely. And so, he was grateful for the help of the guards as they aided him in getting up again and onto the back of one of the horses. Lady Arwen and the two hand maids were talking, although he was unable to understand what they said, but he did understand the meaning of their words, especially as a gentle hand stroke his arm and he forced his lids open, his eyes focusing on the weakly smiling visage of the wise Lady Arwen. Even if he could not understand her words, he understood the look in her eyes. He was safe now.

With a sigh, trusting the Lady fully, he allowed his self-control to slip and finally dropped into the darkness that promised temporary peace.