Chapter 14

THERE were a few moments of near silence, as every member of the army struggled to comprehend that the Nameless One, their enemy for centuries, had finally been overthrown. Eliminated. Reduced to a wisp of shadow blown away by the brisk north wind. For a few moments, time seemed to stop.

Then the silence was broken as a thousand anguished, fearful cries were torn from the throats of the Orcs, and a thousand joyful, victorious shouts went up from the Men of the West. Time lurched back into motion, as the once-terrible armies of Mordor fled blindly from the battlefield that had once seemed so surely theirs. A few sharp commands from their King, and several companies of Men triumphantly began pursuit.

Later Megan heard tales of that hunt, terrible stories of vengeful slaughter and brutal chases. She saw some results as well, men treated for horrible wounds that appeared as though inflicted by animals: gore-wounds and injuries of claws and teeth.

For now, Megan was content in the knowledge that the Orcs had fled, and would return no longer to fight battles such as this. Now there was work to be done. Many injuries had been received in these blackened lands. The hour of the soldier was over; now was the hour of the healer.

Megan quickly reached Lindir, still supporting the man who had been injured by the Orc arrow. Lindir saw her immediately, brows creasing in worry. "I'm not hurt," Megan hastened to reassure him. "This man was hit by a poisoned Orc arrow."

Lindir's frown deepened. "Come here, son," the old healer said, slinging the man's arm over his shoulders. "I'll get you patched up." He glanced back at Megan. "Lord Aragorn is ordering the pitching of camp. We need to set up a healing area, and we haven't enough tents."

Megan nodded. Turning, she ran back up the hill to where Aragorn and the other lords conversed quietly. She cleared her throat, and they turned sharply to regard her, hard gazes softening as they realized who had come. Gandalf, she noticed, was conspicuous in his absence.

She bowed respectfully, barely catching Aragorn's impatient nod as she straightened. "My lords, I can see that camp is being set up. Healer Lindir wishes me to ask where he might set the healers' tents and how he might acquire more to protect the wounded from the elements."

Aragorn frowned in thought. "Set them on the east side of camp," he said finally. "For other tents, I think that we will have little need of our command tent. It is large, and should hold many. The supply wagons may also carry some spare canvas."

Megan bowed again. "Thank you, my lord. I have wounded to tend to now, if you'll excuse me."

Aragorn smiled. "Of course, Lady Megan. I may join you later to lend my skills."

"They would be much appreciated, I'm sure, my lord." Megan replied with a quick smile. Then she turned and hurried back down the hill to Lindir to bring the news.

Lindir seemed pleased to hear it. "Good, 'tis close to the battlefield. We shall not have to go far, I think. And 'tis better that we may have Lord Aragorn's aid."

Then he called to those around him, and the group moved toward the camp which was being organized a mile or so down the road. Mnay unscathed soldiers supported or carried wounded comrades. Legolas cradled a still-unconscious Kavila in his arms.

Megan was surprised, however, to see Sarah among the group. She quickly moved to her friend's side, anxiety coiling in her stomach. Had Sarah been injured?

"Sarah!" Megan called when she was close enough for the girl to hear. "Are you hurt?"

Sarah glanced up hurriedly, then returned her gaze to the ground before her. "No," she replied slowly, almost dazedly. Megan visually checked for head injuries, but could see no trace of blood or bruise. Then Sarah's gaze left the ground briefly to wander behind her—and stayed. Megan followed her friend's stare and found herself looking at Kalva's unconscious form, being carried by some kind soldier. Now she understood Sarah's distractedness; she was concerned for Kalva. Megan suppressed a chuckle. Those two were so in love.

"So what happened?" Megan asked. Sarah tore her gaze from Kalva and glanced at Megan, then concentrated on the road. In a soft voice she related the events leading to Kalva's injury, and her fear that he was dead.

"But he wasn't," she assured Megan in a tone that gave Megan the impression she was reassuring herself just as much. "He's alive, just unconscious."

Megan nodded thoughtfully, dropping back a pace to examine Kalva herself. He did not look good. His face was very pale, his breathing soft, his pulse shallow. Yet Sarah was right; he was alive.

Suddenly shouts went up at the head of the group as the camp came into sight. At Lindir's request, Sarah and Megan went ahead with a couple of other soldiers and set up the healing tents and command tent on the east side of camp, laying out blankets inside for the wounded men to be laid upon. They left just enough room between the pallets for someone to kneel, and sometimes less, squeezing as many as possible into the tents.

The pallets were filled as quickly as Sarah and Megan could lay them down, until all the men they had brought with them were housed as comfortably as might be. They continued to set out blankets, preparing for the wounded that were still to be brought, even as the cries of the injured rang in their ears.

As they laid out the last of the pallets that could be squeezed into the final tent, Megan could see that they would be short. There simply wasn't enough room for the stream of injured men that she knew was flowing into the camp even now.

Megan turned to Sarah to ask her advice, only to find her friend staring longingly at one of the tents where the wounded had already been placed. Megan smiled, placing a hand gently on her friend's shoulder, and stifling a laugh as Sarah jumped guiltily. "I…sorry, I—"

"—was thinking about Kalva," Megan finished for Sarah. She chuckled as Sarah blushed slightly. "Go ahead and find him. I can take care of the rest."

Sarah hesitated, though she obviously wanted to follow Megan's order. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't mind helping…"

"Of course you mind! You haven't said two words to me all the time we've been doing this. Your mind is obviously elsewhere." Megan retorted, laughing. "Now go!"

Sarah smiled a little and turned, the quickness of her pace as she made her way toward the first tent belying her earlier words. Megan shook her head and turned her thoughts to more serious problems—like the lack of tents and blankets. Then Aragorn's earlier words returned to her, and she remembered the supply wagons. Yes! Surely they would have some spare tents and blankets!

Within the wagons she found many spare blankets and a few tents, though not as many as Megan would have liked. Still, they would do for now. She gathered up three of the tents, canvas and stakes, and made her way back to the cluster of tents that was the healing area.

Megan was just turning to return to the cart for more tents when her path was blocked by several tall men, plainly dressed, though armored well-enough. The only insignia they bore was a brooch shaped as a silver star.

"Um…hello?" Megan said, discomforted by their sudden and soundless appearance.

The foremost bowed slightly to her. "I am Dregor, a Ranger of the Dunedain. Are you the healer Megan?"

Megan nodded slowly, only further confused by his words. What would a Ranger of the Dunedain want with her? "I am. Are you in need of healing?"

"Nay, we are not. We come instead with aid for you. We heard that you had need of tents for the wounded, and would give you ours," Dregor answered, smiling.

For a moment Megan was speechless with surprise. "Yes, well, I…we do need them, sir, and we would appreciate it very much. But I wouldn't want to trouble you…"

"Rest assured, you do not. We are Rangers of the cold North, and are quite used to living without cumbersome tents." Dregor answered.

Megan sighed. As she had said, the tents were sorely needed. "How many may we expect?"

"As many as you need," Dregor replied. "The entire Grey Company offers you their tents, and that is three score."

"We may need them before nightfall," she said finally. "But how can you make such a claim, sir?"

Dregor smiled. "I am the Dunedain lieutenant, second only in command to our lord, King Aragorn. I have spoken with my men, and they offer this aid willingly."

Megan took a deep breath, pushing past her astonishment and gratitude to think the matter through. "If it is not an inconvenience, then, I think it would be best for you and your men to set the tents up now. It will be better to have too many than too few. Already the space we have is nearly gone, and I think the flood of wounded will only grow."

"Such is the way of war. It brings naught but pain and sorrow, and leaves widows and orphans in its wake." Dregor remarked, and then sighed. "I shall inform my men." He was about to turn away when Megan grabbed his arm suddenly.

"I…I don't think I've said thank you yet," she said finally.

Dregor merely smiled. "It will be thanks enough to know that more men may recover to return to their lands and families. I would like to think that others would do the same for me and my men if it were we who needed shelter as we healed." With that, he turned and was gone. Smiling for the first time in many hours, Megan returned to the supply wagons for the rest of the spare tents.

She was close to her destination when a familiar voice called her name. She stopped and turned to find Legolas, still covered with the dirt and grime of battle, jogging easily to catch up with her. "Do you need any aid?" he asked as she turned again, resuming her journey to the supply wagons. She was about to decline his offer when she stopped, considering. She had been called a healer many times this day, but had done very little as of yet to warrant it. She longed to be done with this task of setting up facilities so that she might tend to the wounded whose cries she could hear so clearly, even here. "Actually," she said, turning to Legolas thoughtfully, "you can finish setting up these tents. Put as many blankets inside for the men as you can comfortably fit, with room for healers to do their work. Oh, and the Rangers have donated their tents, so if you see them setting up tents, that's what's going on."

"What will you do, Lady Megan?" Legolas asked as he pulled a tent from the wagon.

"I'm going to go help Lindir." Megan replied, turning and making her way quickly back towards the tents.

"A healer at heart," Legolas murmured, smiling.

THE FIRST thing Kavila noticed when she awoke was the sounds: people moaning and crying out, others murmuring reassurance, and a few calling for various supplies for healing. It did not take her long to figure out that she was lying in the healing tent.

Kavila opened her eyes to find her suspicions confirmed. She was stretched out on a blanket in an isolated corner of the tent. The rest of the tent space was occupied by injured men: some of Gondor, some Rohan, and some unmarked.

The battle must have ended, she realized with a thrill of relief. Her last memory was the gaping, tooth-filled maw of the Nazgul's steed, bearing down upon Legolas. She felt a brief pang of worry…had Legolas survived? But of course he had, because he didn't die in the book, and thus far the book was going exactly like the movie.

She glanced around her, not recognizing any of the men near her. They did not appear to be badly injured; she must have been placed in one of the tents where the men with non-life-threatening wounds were kept, rather than the loud and chaotic tent for the seriously injured.

She may not have had the skill and knowledge to tend the critically wounded, but she could certainly be of use here. She sat up, pausing to make certain there was no dizziness, and then rose fully.

The man at her feet cried out, seeing her. "Lady," he moaned, "please, some drink!" He had a slash wound in his leg; not potentially fatal, but certainly painful.

Kavila knelt at his side. "A drink of water? I will get it for you." She was about to stand up when she felt a weak grip on her hand; the man held on even when she gently attempted to extract her fingers. She tried to catch his gaze to warn him that she must leave to retrieve the water, only to find his head turned away. "Sir," she began, trying to get his attention, but he ignored her. Exasperated, she followed his gaze to a pack lying against the tent wall—with a waterskin next to it! The waterskin was out of his reach, and had probably been sitting there for hours. Kavila quickly retrieved it and, supporting the soldier's head, she let him drink. When he turned his head away to indicate he was finished, she closed the waterskin and placed it near at hand. She glanced again at the man's wound; it looked terribly painful, though it did not seem infected yet.

"Sir, I'll be right back, but I need to get supplies to close that wound up," she said, and the man smiled his thanks.

She rose and returned the smile, then hurried out of the tent. She hadn't gone more than three steps when she collided with someone else. Terrified she had bumped into a wounded soldier she looked up, a flood of apologies on the tip of her tongue, to find Megan staring back at her.

"Megan! Kavila!" they exclaimed at the same time, and Kavila laughed with joy to see her friend unharmed.

"Did you just wake up?" Megan asked.

"Yeah. I was coming to get some healing supplies to take care of the men in my tent." Kavila answered.

Megan stooped to the ground briefly, gathering the items she had dropped in the collision. "Well I just happen to have some," she said. "Lindir gave me this cool belt that I can put all my stuff on. See?" Megan displayed the belt like a model. "I've already put all my herbs on it."

Kavila grinned. "That is such a good idea! You're so smart!"

Megan laughed. "I didn't come up with it, Lindir gave it to me. He's working in the tent with the really badly injured people."

"Well the people in here aren't badly injured, but they're still in pain and need help," Kavila said. "Come on, you can help me."

"I was already headed here," Megan said as they entered. "I was going to check on you and then see what I could do in here."

First they went to the soldier whom Kavila had helped, and then the two worked their way systematically around the tent. They soon established a system: Megan, who was good with the herbs, mixed them while Kavila cleaned and sometimes stitched the wounds. She had a sure hand, and her patients rarely complained while she worked. When the medicines had been concocted Megan applied them and Kavila bound the wounds. They worked quickly and efficiently, speaking only when needed, falling into a repetition that lulled them into such intense concentration that it was almost a trance. When they finished tending the last man in the tent both nearly ran into the canvas wall, so caught up were they in their routine. They looked at each other, sharing soft smiles of relief and personal contentment at having done such good. They looked back at the other occupants of the tent, perhaps eighty men, most sleeping under the effect of painkillers, and then Kavila sighed. "On to the next tent."

"Not quite," said Megan. "I need to get more herbs. I'm running out, especially the painkillers."

"You go do that. I'll talk to Lindir and tell him we've finished this tent. I'll find out where he wants us to go." Kavila said, and Megan nodded. "Good idea. Let's go."

When they reached the main tent Megan nodded to Kavila and made her way toward the supply wagons nearby to collect her herbs. Kavila took a deep breath and stepped into the tent to find Lindir. She was immediately assaulted with a wave of heat, the air tinged with the scent of sweat, blood, and sickness. Sound followed after; it was must louder here than the other tent, for the men were more gravely injured and suffered more pain.

A call not of pain but of urgency attracted Kavila's attention. "Water! I need warm water!" cried a familiar voice. In a corner of the tent Lindir had set up a surgeon's table where he now stood, finishing what appeared to be an amputation. The man whose leg had been amputated was no longer conscious, and Kavila experience a vague sense of relief that she had not witnessed the process. Cutting off a man's leg, even for healing purposes, was too similar to violent warfare for her comfort.

As Kavila picked her way among the wounded men to the surgeon's table, she was surprised to see Sarah bring the needed pail of water. Lindir quickly washed his hands of the man's blood and set about bandaging the stump. Kavila moved to Sarah's side as she waited for Lindir to finish his task.

"So, is Kalva all right?" she asked lightly.

Sarah glanced up, as though she had not noticed Kavila at her side. "Oh, yes. Yes, the healers said that he wouldn't wake for some time, but his arm should heal and they didn't think there would be lasting damage."

Kavila smiled. "That's good. I bet you're glad."

"Very," Sarah answered softly as Lindir finally turned from his work. "Kavila!" he exclaimed. "Have you come to take your friend's place as my assistant?"

"If you need me to," Kavila answered, smiling. "But I think Sarah's doing just fine, and Megan and I are needed elsewhere."

"Where is Megan?" Lindir asked. "I sent her to work in another tent, and have not seen her since."

"She and I worked together. We got everyone in that tent—" Kavila pointed, "treated. I just wanted to see if there was somewhere specific you wanted us to go next."

"No, no, as long as you continue your work treating the lesser injuries, you are working where you are needed. I am afraid I cannot be spared from my work here; there are many badly injured men who need constant care," Lindir said.

Kavila gave Lindir a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we'll take care of it."

Suddenly Kavila heard her name called. Legolas was making his way towards her, Megan at his side. Kavila felt a brief thrill of relief and something else run through her to see that he was uninjured. "My lord healer, ladies," he greeted them, "'tis good to see all of you well. How is Kalva, Lady Sarah?"

Once again, Sarah explained that Kalva would recover. "And I see that Lady Kavila has recovered from her fright," he remarked, while Kavila glared balefully and thanked her dark skin. "But tell me, I have not seen Lady Erin and Lady Adrienne. How do they fare?"

Kavila's eyes went wide. "I forgot about Warford and Adrienne!" she exclaimed.

"It's okay," Megan said. "We were very busy working with the wounded—"

Kavila cut her off, addressing Legolas. "I want you to find them and bring them back here. Drag them if you have to. No doubt their injuries opened up during the fight, or they got new ones, and they're just too stubborn to get healed. They will be treated, if I have to do it myself! And I'll be chewing them out the entire time!"

Legolas hid a smile. "Yes, my lady," he bowed, then left. Kavila watched him go, muttering angrily under her breath. "Those stupid, retarded…people!" she ended, for lack of a better curse. "First they sneak into the army to go to the battle, then they fight and probably get hurt, then they decide not to come to the healers! Morons!"

Megan laid a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe they're in one of the healing tents we haven't visited yet. I'm ready to go start working again."

Kavila snorted, not sharing Megan's confidence in her friends' good sense. "All right, let's—"

"Healer! Healer, quickly!" came a gruff voice from the tent opening. Megan and Kavila looked up hurriedly to see Gandalf, white robes glowing in the dark tent, cradling a small, filthy form clad in rags. They sprinted forward, then stopped to see the expression on the boyish face of Gandalf's charge: creased with premature lines etched by a pain so profound it transcended the physical, and yet strangely content—he almost seemed to be smiling a little. Kavila was overcome for a moment with an overwhelming mixture of joy, gratitude, and sorrow as she regarded Frodo. Joy, that she was truly seeing the hobbit; gratitude, that he had destroyed the Dark Lord and ended this horrible war; and sorrow, that a creature so small and young-seeming would have his innocence torn so cruelly from him by that terrible responsibility.

Then Megan spoke next to Kavila, breaking her out of her emotional trance. "Follow me, my lords, and we'll get Frodo and Sam into a tent where they can be treated." She set off at a brisk pace which Kavila matched, noticing that Aragorn carried a second small form just behind Gandalf whose condition was just as pitiful.

Megan led them to a tent which had been placed at a far corner of the healing area. She quickly ducked inside, motioning Kavila in after her. "Let's put two blankets in the center for the hobbits and another over here for someone to stay near them. I think Aragorn's going to be tending them, and somehow I think he might find it difficult to return to his tent when he's done." Together the two girls quickly rearranged the tent space before stepping out and bowing to the gathered lords.

Gandalf went inside first, and Aragorn after. Aragorn looked out briefly to call for warm water and a brazier of coals. Gandalf did not reappear. Once his supplies were brought, Aragorn too disappeared.

Finally Megan spoke. "Come on you guys, I don't think they're coming out for awhile. We should get back to healing."

Kavila nodded silently. She would have dearly loved to know how Aragorn healed those poor, half-dead hobbits. But Megan was right; there were others who needed their help.

As they turned to walk back they noticed Lindir, standing unobtrusively behind them. "Lindir? I didn't know you'd come with us!" Kavila exclaimed.

Lindir smiled slightly. "You both appeared to know what needed to be done. I did not wish to impede you." He paused for a moment. "You seem to know a great deal more than the rest of us about the things that have happened here. Pray tell, who were those two perian that Lord Gandalf whisked away so quickly?"

Megan and Kavila shared sidelong glances. Megan answered slowly, considering each word. "It's a long story, and I'm sure you'll hear it soon enough. But basically, you know how Sauron died and the Nazgul left and his army ran away?" Lindir's aged head nodded slowly as he tried to connect what Megan was saying. "Those two hobbits caused it all." Megan finished.

"How?" Lindir asked, brow crinkling in disbelief.

"Like I said it's a long story. It should wait until we have time to spare. But don't let appearances deceive you; even the smallest person can change the future," Megan said with a chuckle. She was starting to sound like Erin.

Lindir nodded again. "You speak rightly. I shall return to the main tent."

"We'll do that one," Megan said, pointing to the command tent-turned-hospital. Kavila followed Megan silently, her mind still partly on the tiny hobbits who had given and accomplished so much.

BACK inside their tent, Erin lay back on her blanket with a groan as pain shot through her side. Her wound had definitely re-opened; the blood was sticky and warm against her side. Yet even the ripping agony in her side could not wipe the grin from her face. "God, I still can't believe this is happening," she said finally.

From her side of the tent Adrienne chuckled. "I know. We actually saw Sauron fall."

"Do you know how much money people back in our world would pay to have been there?" Erin asked.

"Millions," Adrienne answered, laughing. "I would have given millions, if I had it to give."

"Yeah." Erin said, her mind wandering back through the battle and the display that had followed it. "Did you see the way those Gates fell?"

Adrienne's expression turned distant. "And Sauron's last reach—and the way the wind just came up and blew it away."

Erin laughed with joy that she had seen it all, but her mirth turned to a groan as agony shot through her side. Adrienne's smile diminished.

"How bad is it?" she asked in a sympathetic tone as she scooted across the tent floor to sit beside Erin.

Erin grimaced. "Pretty bad, I think. God, it hurts…and it's reopened."

Adrienne sighed. "I'd better take a look."

"Have you got any more herbs?" Erin asked.

"Yeah. Not much in the way of painkillers, but you can have it. I've got plenty of stuff to dress our wounds, though." Adrienne answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh no you don't, you unselfish thing. You take the pain medicine. You need to be able to walk." Erin said, shaking her head.

Now it was Adrienne's turn to grimace. "I don't think I'll be walking much for awhile."

That caught Erin's attention. "That bad? You tend yourself first. I'll be all right."

"No, no, I'll get you done." Adrienne countered.

Erin sighed, exasperated. She didn't have the energy to argue. "Fine. I still think we should have gone to the healers."

"I can handle it. They'll be busy enough." Adrienne said. "Besides, I don't think I could have made it to the healers."

Erin looked at her critically. "We passed them on the way here. Adrienne, are you sure you're okay?"

Adrienne winced inwardly at her blunder. She'd been so absorbed in staying on her feet as they returned to their tent that she hadn't noticed her surroundings. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. I just need to rest—I'm tired as hell."

"I can tell." Erin remarked sarcastically. "You go sleep. Give me the compress and I'll bind my wound. I think I can do it."

"Not a good idea. We have to get this done well. I don't want that injury getting infected." Adrienne answered. She quickly prepared the poultice, having had a week of practice, and prepared herself for the worst as she removed Erin's clothing and bandages.

Erin shifted uncomfortably as Adrienne peeled off her tunic, with only a bandage covering her torso. Adrienne regarded her exasperatedly. "Erin, please. Sit still. It's not like I haven't seen it all before. It's just us girls." Erin's face turned very red, but she sat still.

Adrienne's breath hissed in sympathy when she finally uncovered the open wound. The amount of blood on the bandages had confirmed Erin's suspicion that the wound had reopened, but as Adrienne found, it had not only reopened; it had been torn further by the thrashing of the troll. Trying to avoid thinking about the pain she was causing her friend, she cleaned and bound the wound with clean cloth, applying the poultices in such a way as to help stem the blood flow. She was about to start on her own wound when the tent flap was drawn back.

Erin squeaked and made a grab for her tunic, which she managed to cover herself with just as the intruder looked up to meet her wide eyes. "Ah…ah! My apologies, Lady Erin, Lady Adrienne," Legolas nodded to each of them. "I did not mean to…interrupt anything."

Erin bowed her head as her cheeks flamed, while Adrienne raised an eyebrow. "I was binding her wound, my lord prince."

Legolas laughed. "My apologies nonetheless. I should have identified myself."

"Yes. Yes, you should have." Erin muttered, her gaze still on the ground.

Adrienne chuckled. "If you'll step outside briefly, I'll let you know when we're presentable." Legolas nodded and stepped out.

Erin was torn between glaring after Legolas and glaring at her friend. She settled on glaring at the ground some more, though it really had done nothing to earn her dislike—except, perhaps, for being so hard when she landed on it during the battle.

"Come on," Adrienne was holding up her tunic. "We don't want to keep Legolas too long."

Erin sighed, but she worked the tunic back on, despite frequent and painful protests from her injured side. When it was securely in place Adrienne raised herself onto her knees and reached for the tent flap, carefully keeping pressure off her ankles. "All right, Legolas, you can come in now."

He stepped in silently, smiling. "Why are you here, Legolas?" Adrienne asked abruptly and rather rudely. But she was tired and in pain, and wanted to get on with what she needed to do before she rested.

"I was sent by Lady Kavila." The elven prince drew himself up and spoke, in a surprisingly good imitation of Kavila despite his lower voice, "I want you to find them and bring them back here. Drag them if you have to. No doubt their injuries opened up during the fight, or they got new ones, and they're just too stubborn to get healed. They will be treated, if I have to do it myself! And I'll be chewing them out the entire time!"

Erin could not repress her laughter, despite the pain it caused. Adrienne was in a similar state, nearly rolling on the floor with mirth. "Oh my god," she gasped finally. "Legolas, that was hilarious!"

Erin stopped laughing first, not wanting to cause herself any more pain. "Right then. That settles it. Let's go," she said. "I wouldn't want Kavila to worry any more than she has to."

Adrienne looked up quickly in protest. "Erin! We don't need to go to the healers! They've got more than enough to deal with, and our wounds aren't that serious."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Who said that they wouldn't be walking much for awhile? And besides, you said yourself we haven't got much painkiller. I think that's all that's going to get me through the next few days."

"I'm not going anywhere." Adrienne said stubbornly.

"Not on your own feet, no," Erin replied. "And before I didn't push the issue because I couldn't carry you myself. But now that Legolas is here—"

"I will not be carried!" Adrienne interrupted. Erin rolled her eyes and looked pleadingly at Legolas. Legolas nodded slightly to show he had understood and whisked Adrienne into his arms before she could protest.

"What? Legolas, no! Put me down! Erin!" Adrienne cried as Legolas maneuvered her out of the tent and into the daylight. Erin put her helm on and followed after, gritting her teeth against the pain of rising to her feet. "ERIN!" came the indignant cry from the region of Legolas' shoulder. Erin just grinned. "The healers are always the worst patients," she remarked to Legolas as she caught up with him, ignoring the groan of annoyance from Adrienne. He chuckled in agreement.

As they walked toward the healers' tents Erin noticed an increasing number of eyes turning to regard them, drawn by her feminine voice and the easy way she spoke with the elven prince. Suddenly a desire welled up within her to take off her helm and do away with the secrecy that had plagued her for a week. At first it had been fun to escape into the army like little children sneaking out of the house, but now it was becoming extremely annoying to constantly wonder if she might be giving herself away through her actions or words.

With a sudden movement she tore the helm from her head and shook her hair loose, a smile spreading across her face as she felt the cool north wind ruffle her hair. She laughed out loud as Legolas did a double take when he glanced back at her during the course of the conversation. He smiled a little as he turned his attention back to the road, though his talk did not waver for a moment. Erin could almost hear the whispers swelling around her as she joked with the elven prince, combing through her long hair with her fingers, but she didn't care anymore.

Legolas led them to the entrance of the first healing tent they reached, which Erin recognized with a jolt as the command tent. She said as much to Legolas. "There was a greater need for healing space," he replied as they ducked inside. "This is one of the tents for those less injured. The tent for the grievously wounded is there," he pointed back out across the lane.

Erin tried to avoid looking at the men they passed as Legolas led them to two unoccupied pallets. The soldiers here may have had lesser injuries, but some were still gruesome in appearance. Instead she scanned the room for a healer, hoping to get Adrienne treatment as soon as possible. She finally caught sight of two figures bent over a man only a couple of rows away from the empty pallet Legolas was laying Adrienne down on. As the figures straightened, finished with their work, Erin realized she knew them. It was Kavila and Megan! Erin felt a mix of joy and anxiety. They were obviously unhurt, but soon enough they would work their way to where Erin and Adrienne lay, and then Kavila would launch into one of her rants in a tone that everyone in the tent could hear. Erin lay back with a sigh on her own blanket and asked Legolas about his role in the battle, deciding she might as well enjoy whatever time she had left.

MEGAN straightened, the muscles in her back aching with the constant stress of bending over to tend the injured. She glanced briefly at the rest of the tent; they had perhaps ten patients left to go. Then they could rest and catch a bite to eat, as it was long past noon and she had eaten nothing since morning, as her stomach so insistently reminded her.

Next to her Kavila groaned as she rose, obviously sore as well. Megan gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "We're almost done," she said reassuringly. "Only ten or so left, and then we'll get lunch." Kavila nodded wordlessly and moved on to the next patient, her face drawn with weariness.

Suddenly Kavila stopped, her tiredness and pain forgotten as she realized who lay on the next pallet. Megan nearly stumbled over her. "What—" she started to say, and then she too looked down. For a moment she was speechless. "Adrienne?" she said finally. The girl opened her eyes and laughed softly. "Hello Megan."

"What about me?" Kavila exclaimed, her tone indicating an impending tirade. Adrienne started to answer, but she was cut off. "You—both of you—" Kavila gestured at the next blanket, where Erin rested. "are going to be the death of me! Where have you been? And why didn't you come here in the first place!

"Hello to you too, Kavila," Erin replied as if Kavila had said nothing. " I'm glad to see you're doing all right after your bout with the Nazgul."

Kavila's voice lowered to a deadly tone. "Who told you?" she asked.

Erin grinned. "Legolas. You just missed him. You know, he does a very good imitation of you. I'd have asked him to show you if he hadn't left."

"I'm crushed." Kavila retorted sarcastically.

Erin smirked. "I'm sure you are."

"Shut up, Warford!" Kavila sputtered. "I'm going to heal Adrienne first, just for that!"

"Good," Erin replied, and Kavila raised her eyebrows. "Adrienne already took care of me, but she needs attention. Her ankles are messed up. Besides, it's her fault we didn't come here first. She insisted she could take care of us just fine, and then when we got back she admitted she didn't have much pain medication and couldn't walk anymore."

From the other pallet Adrienne cried. "Erin's wound is worse! She needs stitches!"

Megan rolled her eyes. "Come on, Kavila, let's take care of Adrienne."

"Why me first?" Adrienne asked angrily, ignoring Erin's smirk of triumph.

"Because you're being so insistent that you don't need healing." Megan retorted as she removed the first boot, ignoring Adrienne's muffled cry of pain. "Which probably means your wound is quite bad and you just don't want us to know."

Despite consistent grumbling from Adrienne her boots were soon gone. Megan examined her ankles critically, moving and pressing to see where the pain was located. Though Adrienne had received no wound in her right leg, she had admitted to pain in both, and Megan surmised that muscles had been damaged. Being a cross country runner, she had some idea of how to identify and treat those injuries. While Megan was busy with the right leg Kavila unbound and cleaned the wound in Adrienne's left ankle.

"It's reopened," she announced in a tone that signified an imminent rant.

"Of course it's reopened!" Erin exclaimed from her blanket, ignoring the warning look Adrienne sent her. "That troll flung her around in the air by her ankles!"

"Troll! What troll?" Kavila asked. Erin gave an account of their battle while Kavila re-bound Adrienne's ankle. "Are you telling me that, despite the fact you were both already injured and had been thrown from your horses, you took on one of those ten-foot-tall trolls!" Kavila exclaimed when Erin was finished.

"Yep. And killed it." Erin declared proudly.

Kavila sputtered for a moment, then threw up her hands. "You're both insane!"

"And proud of it!" Erin and Adrienne said together, breaking into peals of laughter.

"Hold still!" Megan broke in irritably from Adrienne's feet, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Finally she met Adrienne's gaze. "I think you've only sprained your ankles, but they're going to be very painful for awhile, and you're going to have to stay off them for a couple of weeks at least."

Adrienne groaned but nodded. She had been in athletics before, and knew a sprained ankle was nothing to mess with, especially two of them. But goddamnit, she hated being bedridden!

Then Megan and Kavila moved on to Erin. Despite her protests that all she needed was painkillers, they unwrapped the bandages and examined the wound. "It's bigger!" Kavila said accusingly.

Erin sighed a little. "Yes, I know it got torn. Staying on a troll's back when he's trying to dislodge you can do that. It'd be a challenge for even the best cowboy, I'd think."

"You didn't have to do it yourself, moron!" Kavila retorted.

"What, kill the troll? When Adrienne had given me such a good opening and had put herself in such great danger? You think I'd let somebody else take care of that?" Erin said.

"Yes!" Kavila answered. "I would have!"

Erin rolled her eyes. "We all know you would have." She put on her best imitation of Kavila. "Oh my god! That troll's about to kill my friend! But I can't do anything, I might hurt it!"

Kavila turned to Megan. "Needle and thread, please," she asked through clenched teeth. Erin looked vaguely worried as Megan handed them over.

"What's that for?" she asked.

Kavila snickered. "I get to stitch up your wound," she said, doing her best evil laugh.

"I take back everything!" Erin said quickly.

Kavila stopped and looked at her incredulously. "I couldn't actually hurt you, Warford!" She began the first stitch.

Erin grimaced. "Anyone got a nice, big dose of painkiller on them right about now?"

Kavila raised her eyebrows, keeping her gaze on the needle. "You get a wound like this, and you need painkiller for stitches?"

"I can't stand the feeling of that needle," Erin answered. "And besides, it's not a nice, fine needle like they use in our world."

"You have my complete sympathy," Adrienne called. Her dislike of needles was almost a phobia. "I'm going to make a point of avoiding wounds that require stitches."

"Good luck with that," Erin answered.