Chapter Five: Fevers and New Meetings

Cire sat under the small tree watching the injured elf as he slept. He had lost consciousness soon after he assessed his injuries and therefore did not feel the resetting of broken ribs, and ankle, nor the stitching of the hole in his left shoulder. The man sat thinking back on the numerous bruises and cuts that the elf had sustained and he shook his head. "Lucky he is alive, he is." The man muttered. Rohir, as Cire had understood his name to be was slowly coming to as the man watched. Slowly, Cire rose from his position and walked over to the dark haired elf lying amongst a ton of blankets beside the fire.

Elrohir groaned and turned his head grimacing at the stench of smoke that filled his nose. He sniffed and slowly opened his eyes staring into the bright orange and blue flames suddenly startled at how close he was. With a cry he tried to scramble away from the fire only to discover he was within a mound of blankets that hindered his movements.

"Easy, Rohir." A voice arrived to his right side causing the elf to turn his head confused.

"Hmm?"

"I said easy." Cire knelt beside the elf and pushed his now dry hair off his forehead. "The fire is only to help you stay warm. You had many injuries and lost yourself senseless." The man explained.

Elrohir furrowed his brow confused and startled at the kindness of this man. "Who-who are you?" He asked through a parched throat. The young elf swallowed with difficulty.

Concerned the man frowned. "You do not remember?"

Elrohir shook his head looking around for water. A flask was brought to his lips and little drops fell into his mouth easing the dryness in his throat. "How did I come to be here?" He asked in the common tongue.

"We found you tangled in a mass of branches. My name is Cire as I told you yesterday, and you told me your name was Rohir." The man recapped the water bottle and placed it out of the elf's reach when his eyes followed it eagerly.

Elrohir's gray eyes met those of Cire's brown ones and he shook his head confused. "Not Rohir." He whispered swallowing again. "Elrohir."

"Ahh." Cire said smiling. "Rest, and do not move much. I had to set your ribs as best as I could, and your ankle. We stitched your shoulder and you are recovering quickly." The man grinned as he watched the elf's eyes drift over to the water flask. "You can not have too much, it will unsettle your stomach. I will allow you a little more." The man brought the water back to Elrohir's waiting lips and he allowed a few more drops to trickle into the elf's mouth.

Elrohir smiled and swallowed the cool liquid nodding. With a sudden cry, the elf's eyes widened in shock. "My brother?"

Cire shook his head. "As I told you yesterday, you were the only one we found. I have sent riders in search of your brother, but was uncertain where to start."

"Up river." Elrohir whispered. "He will be looking for me."

Cire nodded and shouted to a man close by. "Go find the men that left this morning, inform them to search up river for this ones brother." The man curtly nodded his head and disappeared quickly.

"His name-" Elrohir coughed his newly stitched wound pulling with the effort, and his ribs straining against the abuse of his lungs.

"Shh. It is all right. You called him Ella." Cire pulled the blankets up around the elf's shoulders and shook his head.

Elrohir nodded and then shook his head. "Too hot." He hissed.

"You must stay warm, you were lucky the river didn't take your life."

Elrohir glared at the man, as he lay motionless under the blankets. "Too hot!"

Cire chuckled at the fire in the youth's eyes and pulled the blankets down a bit. "Better?" When he got a nod he stood up and walked over to his bedding pulling out the elf's tunic. When he had removed it he had marveled at the feel of fabric and stitching sewn within the material. It was soft, like downy feathers and seemed to shimmer briefly in a change of light. It seemed as though the dark green would turn gray then blue in some lights and would almost take on the color of its surroundings. Shaking his head in wonder, he traced the leaf stitching with his fingers. They also seemed to shimmer in the light. Also seemed to move as though the vines were alive. Amazed at the skill of these elves, he wandered back over to his young charge and knelt beside him.

"I was not able to fix much of your tunic, but I mended what I could without damaging the material too terribly much." Cire placed the tunic beside Elrohir and silently sat watching the elf remove his right hand from under the blankets. His long slender fingers touched the tunic and picked it up eying it carefully.

"You have done better then most." Elrohir whispered smiling slowly. He frowned at the bloodstain on the shoulder and the odd colored patch that was placed over the hole. "Red?" He asked lifting his eyes to Cire's.

Cire laughed. "It matched the bloodstain."

Elrohir rolled his eyes and nodded.

Elladan opened his eyes with great difficulty and felt as though a rock had fallen onto his chest. Groaning in agony he rolled over onto his back sweating profusely. He knew his fever had grown even more since the night and he shivered as a faint breeze caught his fevered skin. Sitting up carefully, bracing himself from tumbling over, Elladan glanced down at his leg. The infection had grown and was not intending to cooperate with his ministrations to apply healing salves. He pulled up the torn legging, and carefully pulled away the gauze and turned his head away at the smell that wafted to his nose. Wrinkling his nose at the stench, he looked at the blue and red of the gash.

"Something must have covered the tree base for it to react so brutally." He whispered softly to himself. "What have we gotten ourselves into, Ro?"

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and attempted to stand placing slight pressure on his leg. Giving a startled exclamation at the instant pain that shot up his leg, Elladan crumpled to the ground shaking with the effort. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, he once again tried to rise. This time putting pressure on his opposite leg. He stood carefully avoiding applying any weight to his injured leg, and hopped over to a fallen branch near the river. Carefully, he cut away the bark, and smaller branches and made himself a makeshift crutch to aid his walking.

"Nothing much I can do for the fever." He grumbled casting the saddlebag over his shoulder and picking up his crutch. "Knew I should have paid more attention to Ada's healing lesson's." Elladan proceeded down the river, his head swimming with dizziness as he moved. Ignoring the warning signs his body was giving him, he continued searching for his brother well into the night and long into the following day. He stopped suddenly as a wave of dizziness took over causing his world to tilt dangerously to the side. Leaning over his crutch he breathed in deeply, closing his eyes quickly scrunching up in pain and wariness. If he fell again, he was not sure he would be able to rise again. He needed to find help, but where he would find it out in the middle of nowhere, he was uncertain.

Elrohir felt a sudden chill sweep over his blanketed frame and he shivered unrepentantly. Cire looked up from his book and asked softly if he was warm enough and the elf nodded in response. Curiously, Cire rose and knelt beside Elrohir checking his pulse and forehead for any signs of fever.

Elrohir grumbled and pushed the man's hand away in irritation. "It is not I who feels the chill." Elrohir explained earning himself a confused look. "Something is wrong. Something has happened to my brother." He hissed attempting to sit up against the protesting hand that quickly was placed on his right shoulder. "I must go in search of him. It has been too long."

"You are in no condition to travel much less stand." Cire shook his head. "Are all elves such poor patients?" He asked suddenly.

Falling back onto his makeshift bed, Elrohir laughed a musical melody. "Only when we are confined."

The man shook his head and pushed the elf's hair behind his ears, marveling at the difference of them from his own. His fingers traced the outline causing the elf to gasp surprised and turn his head away from the hand.

"Don't." Elrohir gasped his face flushing briefly.

Cire raised his eyebrows in question but removed his hand from the elf's small pointed ears, reluctantly.

Closing his eyes Elrohir sighed and reached up and scratched his ear. "Not a wise place to touch an elf unless you are searching for intimacy." He explained lowering his hand and opening his eyes.

Cire's eyes widened in shock. "My apologies." He stood up feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and walked back to his book. He sat down and leaned against the tree thinking back on the words and stored them in the back of his head. He glanced up and saw the elf had risen to a sitting position and shook his head frowning. "You should lay back and take some more rest."

"I am healing with all speed of the elves." Elrohir explained pushing the blankets off his legs. He winced however when he shifted his right foot and glanced down at the poorly made splint that was wrapped around it. Raising his eyebrow he reached down and fingered inside the splint scratching at the itch that had been driving him crazy for the past few hours. He proceeded to unwrap the bindings when a hand grasped his and prevented him from removing the splint. Looking up surprised he saw Cire had come over once again and shook his head.

"At least let it heal a bit more before removing it."

"I was only wanting to see how it was mending." Elrohir lied, smiling. He gained the freedom of his hand back and he went about removing the bandages carefully. He almost felt his heart lurch into his throat at the odd angle his ankle was set at and he turned horrified eyes to the human's apologizing ones.

"No one here knows how to set broken bones properly." The man said shrugging his shoulders sadly.

Elrohir nodded and clenched his teeth together tightly. "It must be rebroken and set properly. I will need your assistance on this."

Cire gasped suddenly. "You have got to be kidding?"

Elrohir shook his head. "I am not. I will not leave it thus when it can be set properly and in turn prevent me from a lifetime of limping." Elrohir wrapped his long fingers around his ankle slowly. "Will you aid me?"

Swallowing. Cire nodded. "What will you have me do?"

As Elrohir explained what needed to be done and what was needed to splint the bone correctly he prepared a small tonic of pain reliever, and cleaned a small stick to bite on. He pinched his nose and gulped back the tonic once it had cooled and cringed at the bitter taste that lingered in his throat. He waited a few moments allowing it to take hold and dim his senses when he nodded to Cire and smiled wanly. Elrohir placed the stick between his teeth and bit down hard on it as the man took hold of his ankle and lifted concerned eyes to him. The youngest son of Elrond nodded and sharply cried out against the stick as he felt his ankle recrack and grind against the other bones. He felt his body grow suddenly hot, then turned instantly cold and he shivered.

Elrohir nodded and pulled the stick from his mouth with shaking hands. "It is done, now I must reset it." He lowered his hands to his ankle and fingered along the break feeling where they lined up with the others and satisfied he found the right placement he pulled and pushed his ankle into place. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed against the sickness. He gave himself a few moments before placing the bark around his ankle and tying them together with the remains of his tunic.

Taking in a deep shaky breath, Elrohir finally smiled satisfied.

"You have courage, I will give you that." Cire muttered. The only response he got was a smile.

Elladan stumbled into a clearing and saw a small house. The roof was latched with hay, and the white washed walls appeared to be newly cleaned. Smiling against his dizziness, he walked over the rough terrain that signaled the ground upon which he walked to be planting soil. Smoke drifted from the small hole in the roof marking someone nearby or inside. He walked over the ground and tripped over a mound of dirt. Crying out he fell and lost hold of his crutch. Elladan lifted himself up on his hands and knees and felt the contents of his stomach rise and release out of his throat. Groaning with disgust, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tried to rise. Placing his injured foot first without thinking and he cried out again as stars appeared before his eyes. The elder son of Elrond fell to the earth, his head hitting the mud hard, causing him to breathe in quick and shallow. Loosing all sense of time, he watched the blue sky slowly turn to dark gray, then to a simple black, and blue once more. Elladan couldn't move, or cry out for aid. The smoke started once again in the house and he felt himself drift through reality and fever driven nightmares.

He couldn't blink, he couldn't move, nor could he tell whether his body was reacting to cold or heat. Elladan could only lie there and watch as the smoke slowly faded, and hear the faint sound of doors closing. Briefly, he felt his finger twitch and he smiled briefly. His breathing was growing fainter, he knew. It was becoming harder for him to draw in the full breaths he needed. Loud rushing sounds came to his ears, and darkness lingered before his eyes as his sight failed him, and slowly he lost himself to the fever.

Elrohir sat up quickly, his body shuddering from an intense cold he could not comprehend. He glanced around him curiously as the men around him turned startled eyes in his direction. The elf did not notice his hand wander and clutch at his chest, but Cire did and stood quickly concerned.

"What is it?" He asked softly.

Elrohir shook his head and felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. Cire watched as the elf fell back onto his bedding his body convulsing with pain and breath. The man quickly knelt beside the elf and pined his shoulders down calling for help. A young man ran over and pried the elf's teeth apart placing the stick into his mouth barely avoiding the sharp bite as the stick became tightly clenched in the elf's teeth. Elrohir thrashed and tossed his head side to side muttering and crying out in elvish spitting the stick out of his mouth and biting his tongue hard, splitting it deeply.

Cire could do nothing but watch the elf as he fought with something unseen. He did however notice as the elf's breathing stopped and he felt his eyes widen in shock.

"What is happening?" The young man Heldrid asked trying to place the stick back in his mouth.

Cire shook his head and bent over placing his mouth with the elf's breathing for him. "Get me a piece of skunk weed root."

The young man raced away and quickly returned with the aforementioned item and passed it to Cire. The man snapped the root and placed it under the elf's nose and was satisfied when Elrohir gasped and coughed. What concerned him the most was when the elf cried out in terror and clutched at his chest curling up into a tight ball. Cire could do no more but watch as the elf struggled with him self, the gray eyes lost in the back of his head, and his skin clammy and placid.

Cire stood and watched as Elrohir muttered words unknown to him in elvish, words that were filled with agony and fear. Placed with terror and heartbroken sobs. He sat back down and reached for a cloth placing it against the elf's head trying to ease whatever struggle he was going through.