Twisted Web of Fate

By the Sinister Sindar Sisters

Chapter Two

For one heart-wrenching moment Thranduil could only hear the shrill scream of his only child. It seemed to ululate on the wind, to swirl around him and echo from every direction. He had no conscious thought as he killed the Orc in front of him, had no memory of standing there, with his sword held ready and dripping with the thick black blood of the foul creatures. He was not even aware that, even though his blond hair was saturated to the extent that it should have been plastered to his skull and shoulders from the rain, the wind was whipping it out and about his head as if it possessed a life of its own.

That was exactly how he felt – possessed; possessed by a burning hatred that he had never known could belong to him. His beloved Minerella had already been ripped from him by these monstrosities; he would not have the same happen with Legolas, not so soon, and not like this. He had promised Legolas that nothing would happen to him. Legolas had to be safe. He had made certain of that.

He turned to face the tree in which he had hidden his son. He saw no movement, no indication of danger, nothing. Yet something had caused him to scream! He stepped forward without missing a beat. He cleaved the head off another Orc that was trying to creep up behind Calandor as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled from the sky. He would not let any beast rob Legolas of another person he cared for. He prayed to the Valar that his son was alright!

As he neared Legolas' tree, he became aware that all the trees were crying out in anger and that their branches and boughs were waving furiously. It was not movement caused only by the furious winds, the trees were moving! They were hitting, not waving, hitting hard at something on the ground. He broke into a fast run.

The rain still fell hard; it was a moment before he could make out that there was blood beneath the tree. Thank Iluvatar! It was not the silver-red blood of the First Born; it was the black of an Orc. There, on the sodden ground was the twisted body of an Orc. The tree was still using its boughs to beat the Orc to an unrecognizable pulp. Thranduil felt a fierce pleasure at the sight. Then, he saw Legolas and his heart nearly stopped beating.

Legolas lay crumpled near the base of the tree. His eyes were closed and blood trickled down his face and stained a patch of his golden hair. Forgetting caution, he made his way to his son. His sword fell to the ground as he knelt and reached for Legolas. Ai, he was shaking. He was unaware that the tree had gone still and silent as he neared.

"Legolas? Ion-nin, please open your eyes." Thranduil reached with shaking hands and cradled the wet head onto his lap before he tried to find a pulse with his trembling fingers.

"Hir-nin let me look at the Prince?" it was Doroniel. When had she arrived? It was then that he realised that all sounds of fighting had stopped and that he had been joined by the healer and Calandor. He could only look at her blankly, his shock plain. "Hir-nin!" Her voice was more demanding this time and he blinked before giving her access to Legolas, even as he pulled his child into his lap.

"Are you hurt, Hir-nin?" Calandor was looking the King over as much as he could, coming around to his side near the tree, while Doroniel moved close to Thranduil's nearer side and leaned over Legolas.

"No, I am well, but Legolas…"

"Legolas is being attended, Hir-nin. The Orcs are all dead. We have taken some minor wounds but nothing more. Captain Bremoline has already sent out a scout to find a suitable place to tend the wounded. Doroniel, how fares the Prince?" Calandor asked the healer.

"He will be alright, but we need to get him warm and out of this rain." They were both startled as Thranduil slumped in relief.

Calandor had stood to take off his cloak to wrap Legolas when he heard a cry of warning and felt a crackle in the air that made his skin tingle. For a split second he really didn't know what to do. Duty told him to protect his King and Prince, but his heart said to aid Doroniel. In that second, he did the next best thing and swept out an arm to push the healer to the ground as he threw himself across both Thranduil and Legolas.

It was not a moment too soon.

A brilliant flash of lightning and an explosion of thunder stunned them all. A nimbus of light surrounded the treetop for a moment. The smell of ozone and then burning filled the air as a blazing limb fell from the other side of the tree, though it was quickly extinguished by the force of the rain. How the fire had caught in the soaked wood was a mystery.

The first thing Thranduil was aware of after the flash was the weight of both Legolas and Calandor draped limply across him, not moving. He could feel them, but he could not see them. His vision was a dazzled mixture of black spots and sun-bright flashes, and his ears were ringing painfully.

He was aware of more than one set of hands touching him as he lay in the mud and he automatically tried to pull Legolas to him. A firm hand stopped him. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision. Legolas needed him and his disorientation was not helping matters.

Doroniel was very surprised at Calandor's shove; he was normally so very polite. She tried desperately to keep herself upright and steady, but it was a losing battle because of the slick mud and her unsteady position; leaning over to tend to Legolas. Her hands splayed before her as she hit the saturated ground, trying to find purchase. Her hands slid in the slick mud and, with extremely un-Elf-like grace, she landed hard, face-first in the churned mud.

As she got her mouth full of mud, she felt the crackle in the air and heard the trees' alarmed warning before one of the loudest explosions of thunder was joined by a bright flash of lightning. By the sound it had to have been a thunderbolt. The fact that she had been face down in the deep mud saved her sight from being dazzled, though her ears hurt from the impact of the noise.

A strange smell of burning wood mixed with ozone filled her nostrils as she raised herself, coughing and spitting, out of the mud. She could hear the lament of the trees at the loss of their brother as it smoldered due to the force of the strike. There was little chance the tree could survive a strike like that. Later, the elves would sing a lament to its bravery in sheltering their Prince.

With a shaky hand, she wiped the mud from her eyes, only to find that she still could not see. Her raven-coloured hair escaping from her hood was seemingly alive with static electricity, waving before her eyes. She did not have time for this. With a swift, if muddy, hand she swept it away from her face and again opened her eyes to what was, in effect, her worst nightmare.

Calandor lay slumped over the Prince and their King. None of the three were moving. She could hear the fearful cries of her normally calm fellow elves. She wanted to cry out in alarm as well, but thankfully her training took over. She had not been trained by Elrond for nothing, after all.

"Bremoline, please help me with Calandor, if we do not get him off of the Prince and King carefully and quickly, he may cause them greater harm!" She looked up in time to see the horrified and fearful warrior running toward her with a few others who had managed to pick themselves up and get their wits about them. The force of the strike had been enough to send them all to the ground and their well-trained horses had been frightened into a panic.

"What would you have us do to aid them?" Bremoline's voice was as shaky as he appeared and she gave him a reassuring smile, trying to instill some sense of calm into her fellow Elves.

"We need to roll Calandor off of Legolas, but we have to be careful, he may have been caught by the lightning and any injuries may be hidden. I need you to stabilise his head and another to keep his back straight. Once we get him off, I need to tend the King and Prince..."

"I am fine." Their King's shaky voice took them all by surprise. "I believe Calandor may have some burns." Thranduil's voice was loud in the clearing and almost rose above the rain. "Legolas is not moving. I cannot tell if he is breathing." There was a tinge of panic in Thranduil's voice that all could hear. He was speaking much louder than usual.

"And you, Aran-nin?" Doroniel asked as they got themselves ready to move their friend.

"Is Calandor alive?" Again, Thranduil was speaking as if from a great distance.

"Aran-nin?" Bremoline shared a worried look with the healer when Thranduil did not answer him.

Thranduil seemed to be trying to hug Legolas to him. Doroniel's hand on his arm, muddy as it was, halted that and Thranduil looked towards whoever it was who was touching him. Doroniel could have sighed with frustration; there was a reason why the King was not answering. He had not had the luck, or misfortune, to have a face full of mud. He had caught the full flash and crash of the blast.

"I think he cannot hear us properly, the blast has caused some disruption to his hearing and it will take some time for that to clear." She has seen this before when a human had been struck by lightning during her time in Imladris, though the poor soul had not survived.

With firm hands she tried to convey what she needed. To her relief, Thranduil seemed to understand. He relaxed and allowed himself to be pushed back.

He still had his hand on Legolas' muddy blond head, wishing with all his heart that he could see his son better than he could. He could only sigh with relief when the heavy body that lay across them both was moved, even if he did get a face full of hair that seemed to be alive.

Doroniel's relief stopped the minute he heard the deep groan that came from Calandor when he was moved, a long low groan that seemed to stretch on for an unnaturally long time and then, it stopped. Even with the hissing of the rain it seemed to be all that could be heard. Doroniel stopped what she was doing to place a shaking finger to Calandor's pallid neck. It took all her control to stop them so that she could feel for a pulse. Her worst fears were confirmed.

Calandor was not breathing. There was no time for niceties now and she barked at the Captain. "He is not breathing! Bremoline, get him flat, now! We must try to restart his heart!" Luckily she knew that Bremoline had just attended a healer's course, as most warriors were expected to, and was up to date with any new emergency treatments sent to Mirkwood by Lord Elrond.

The two warriors needed no further telling and they rolled Calandor onto his back and began to work quickly, as they had been taught. Bremoline pushed rhythmically on his chest as the other blew air into his mouth at intervals.

Thranduil, the moment Calandor had been lifted off him, had tried to sit up only to be pushed firmly back. He could vaguely hear a few sounds but they were so faint he could not be sure what they meant. Another hand helped him back to the ground. It was obvious that the healer wanted him there, but all he could think of was helping Legolas.

The bright spots had begun to ease and he was beginning to make out dark shapes, though little more than fuzzy blobs that moved. Another of the guards came to his aid, earning a nod of approval from Doroniel as he took the king's head into his lap. She was not completely certain that her King was as unhurt as he said and there was also the possibility of internal damage.

For now, it was enough that he was awake and able to articulate. That was more than Legolas and Calandor were doing. Legolas was limp as she also felt for his pulse and for one eternal moment she thought the worse, but then she felt it, weak and slow, but there. The rhythm was not good, but it was better than she had hoped for.

Doroniel gently turned Legolas over and noted his pale features as she began to examine him. His right ankle was bloody and she quickly checked it out, there were deep claw marks all around the ankle, claw marks that looked suspiciously like an Orc's. She could not help the look of hatred that she gave the corpse. Apart from that, and some minor burns to the Prince's hands, the only other injury was his head wound. It still spilled copious amounts of blood, but then, head wounds did bleed freely.

"Legolas?" Again Thranduil's voice was slightly loud, but this time he looked at her instead of appearing to look through her.

Doroniel smiled at him in relief. "Can you hear me, Aran-nin?" She spoke slightly louder than usual.

"Yes, a little." Thranduil did not take his eyes off of her.

"Good, Legolas is going to be alright. We need to get all three of you..."

"He is breathing!" Bremoline's relieved cry made her pause and she felt a deep sense of relief.

"We need to get all three of you to shelter where you can rest and recover. We may need to stay there for a couple of days. You will all need it." She broke off as the scout came back.

"There is a cave that will suit our purposes...." He tailed off as he took in the sorry state of healer, helpers and patients. The healers face was still covered in the mud from her inelegant swan dive. Her hair also looked wild; some of the ends were actually frizzed from the lightning strike and had escaped from their braids.

She looked nothing like the normally self-assured Elleth that he had known since childhood and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the inappropriate laughter from bubbling out. Now was not the time. She glowered at him having seen the spark of amusement in his brown eyes.

"How far away is this cave, Randis?" Bremoline inquired, as Doroniel gently brushed the hair from Legolas' forehead.

"Ten minutes, it is large and will also take the horses." The scout winced, from behind him came the sound of complaint. Ruthwen had broken out of her shock and was giving voice to what she felt about her situation. He ignored it.

"Good, we need to move the injured. Gather everyone and calm the horses. The King will ride with me, Randis, the Prince with you. Calandor can ride with..."

"With me, Bremoline, I will take him." Doroniel broke in; she needed to be close to the three seriously ill patients. There were suddenly more sounds of complaint coming from across the clearing and she snapped her head around to glare at Ruthwen. "Will you please just shut up! We are all wet and uncomfortable; there is no need to keep on about it when we have injured to care for! I see no injuries to hinder you. You could make yourself useful and help." Her tone was hard with dislike.

Randis had by this time calmed and gathered the three horses that they would need. Doroniel's temper could rival Elrond's given the right situation, although if he was to be honest, it lost a little something when she looked as she did now.

Bremoline mounted his horse quickly and two others aided Thranduil to mount before him. The King was incredibly unsteady on his feet and as they settled he could feel the slight tremors that still ran through the King's body.

Next, Calandor was settled upon Doroniel's horse and she behind him. Then, once the Prince was safe and settled with Randis, they set off. As they passed Ruthwen, still trying to mount her frightened horse, none of them spared a glance at her to realise that an intense glare of dislike was aimed at them.

It was a relief when they got to the cave. A couple of the soldiers had ridden ahead to build a fire, knowing that they would need the warmth and hot water.

It was quickly arranged to have beds and pallets ready around the fire. Legolas was still limp in Randis' arms and that worried Doroniel. Calandor had been twitching in her arms during the last part of the ride and she knew this was due to the lightning strike.

Doroniel checked Calandor after he was laid on a pallet. Bremoline brought water and began to help Thranduil to clean up a little. He could not help much because, much like the healer, Thranduil was caked in mud from laying in it so long. Thranduil's face was pale and drawn as he washed it, and he knew that Thranduil was still having trouble with his sight and hearing. It would take a while for that to settle. Miraculously, Thranduil had escaped with only minor cuts and bruises. He was shaking of course, but that was not a surprise. Bremoline added an extra blanket to the one he had already placed around the King's shoulders.

Randis meanwhile was doing the same for Legolas. The young Prince was still unconscious and the warrior had stripped him of his clothes, hissing at the bruises he found beneath the clothing. The cuts on the Elfling Prince's leg were deep and would be painful once the Prince woke. His hair was thick with a mixture of blood and mud. Using hot water from the pot on fire, Randis gently washed as much out of the fine golden hair as he could. It made Legolas look like a young human child that he had once seen in Lake Town who did not have a family to care for him. He gently cleaned the cut on Legolas' head. It was very nasty and would need stitches; a large lump was already beginning to form around the cut.

Doroniel was caring for Calandor. He was still twitching but looked oddly peaceful on the pallet. His hands had been badly burnt and she cleaned them before smothering them in cream and bandaging them. Apart from that and the shock of the lightning strike he seemed unhurt. His pulse was still unsteady and lost its rhythm every once in a while, but that was not unexpected. A shock like that would cause that at the best of times, but to have it almost hit you as it had with the Elf... he would no doubt have some of the same problems that the King was having.

"How is Legolas, Randis?" She asked as she gently tucked Calandor in with the blankets the other Elves had provided.

"He needs stitches to his head and there is a nasty bump, and he will undoubtedly have a nasty concussion." Randis answered the healer.

"I will see to that now. Would you sit with Calandor while I do that? If you are at all worried about him call me, I will be nearby in any case." They swapped positions.

Randis had been right, Legolas would need stitches and not just to his head. Two of the cuts to his leg were deep. Before she began, she checked his pupils, they were a little sluggish but not to the point of alarming her. Again the scout was right. Legolas had a nasty concussion, but praise the Valar, nothing more.

Soon she was lost in the arts of healing, suturing and cleaning and dressing. Legolas' pulse was getting steadier as she worked. She glanced up once to see Thranduil watching her, an inscrutable expression on his face but his eyes alight with worry. When she finished she wrapped Legolas firmly in three of the blankets and lay him back down.

Doroniel moved to sit beside her King. He gave her a small weak smile. "How is your hearing?"

Thranduil frowned back. "Distant." Again his voice was a little loud.

"It will come back gradually. Your eyes are already a little better?" She ran an expert eye over him and finding nothing serious and his cuts already cleaned and treated, she felt his pulse. It was nice and steady and that in itself was a miracle. Lying in the water like the King had been could have been a conductor for the lightning. "You need to rest and get warm. Legolas will be alright, some nasty cuts and bruises but nothing too serious. Rest, he will want you when he wakens." She had no doubt of that.

Doroniel helped Thranduil to sit beside Legolas while she moved his pallet so that he was lying next to Legolas and then she made sure that he was wrapped and comfortable. The warriors had set up the camp in the short while they had been in the cave. They had effectively split into two groups; one group was caring for the horses and checking them for signs of injury, the other group was sorting out bedding and food.

A goblet was pushed into her hands. "For the King, he will need it." Bremoline smiled before heading back to the fire. She handed the goblet to Thranduil and helped him drink.

Once she was through caring for the wounded, she took the time to wash her face and brush her hair. Once this awful weather cleared, she could wash it properly. Until then, all she could do was brush out the dried mud and braid it, fully aware of the sneers being leveled at her from the Elleth's side of the camp.

She properly should have been huddled with them, but she would not have fit in. That was why, as the trip had progressed, she had begun to spend more time with male Elves of the group, that and the fact that she really could not stand Ruthwen's presence any longer.

Once she was as clean and tidy as she could be, given the situation, she headed back to her patients. She then instructed Randis to bring together everyone that had been injured during the fight. Luckily there had been no serious injuries, mostly minor cuts and bruises.

Legolas was still unconscious. Thranduil had moved even closer and now lay with his son pressed to his side. The King was still awake and gazed at his son with sad, old eyes. This was not a side that she was accustomed to seeing from the mighty King of Mirkwood. He had hidden away in his grief over his wife's death so none could see.

Calandor had not moved either. Randis sat diligently by his friend's side. He had not left the charge that he had been given. He raised worried green eyes to hers. "Will he be alright? He has not moved."

Doroniel gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "He should be more than alright. He just needs the rest. He very nearly died and that takes a toll on anyone's body. Let him rest, he will be in pain when he wakens. His hands are badly burnt. Also, I will warn you it is likely that his sight and hearing will be affected much as the King's was." She gave a rueful smile. "I never thought that a little mud would come to my rescue! I thought Calandor had lost his mind when he pushed me away."

"You did look in quite a state, though I think the look fits you well. You would scare any troublesome suitors away!" Randis could not help but tease his childhood friend. Worry still filled him for the three that lay beside him. Teasing was a form of cover for his fears.

"I would be very careful about what you say and whom you say it to. The next time you need a healer's care...." Doroniel stood arms across her chest, face stern and one eyebrow raised in an almost perfect imitation of the Lord of Imladris.

Wisely, Randis decided against any further comments on that subject. He knew she did not mean it, but he did not want to tempt providence and take that chance.

"I'm glad that there were no other bad injuries. How long do we need to rest here?" Bremoline asked as he sat down wearily beside them.

"Until both the Prince and Calandor are in better condition. I would prefer them to rest at least two, maybe three days. Do we have enough food to last and water?" It may have sounded like a ridiculous thing to worry about when they were practically surrounded by the large rivers of water that flowed nearby and the rain that still fell in a steady stream interspaced with the thunder and lightening that still rumbled over their heads. It echoed eerily in the large wind-carved cave.

"Yes, we filled the water skins before we left camp this morning; we have enough to last until we reach Fornost, if necessary. As for fresh meat, once this storm calms we will send out hunters, there must be some animals nearby. I do not want anyone out in this unnecessarily, not after this last incident." Bremoline paused and seemed to consider his next question. "What do you think happened to cause the Prince to scream like that?" Bremoline accepted the tea with a smile that Randis handed over to him.

Doroniel noticed that Thranduil had sat up, watching them talking, but did not join in. She poured another goblet of the sweet tea from the pot and with a deftness that would have surprised some of the Elves around her; she secretly added some sleeping herbs.

Once they had steeped a moment, she handed it to her King. "You need this, Aran-nin. A warm drink will help." Thranduil took it reluctantly; it meant taking one hand off of his son, not something he really wanted to do. Once the goblet was safe in the King's hand Doroniel sat down again and watched as he drank it.

Soon he was nodding off. With Bremoline's help, he lay down, Legolas still lying safe in his arms, it was clear to them that he would not be letting go of the Elfling for some time to come. Doroniel thought it would be good for both of them, so saw no reason to separate them.

Doroniel then checked Calandor once again, frowning at his still unsteady pulse. Yes, his pulse was stronger, but it was still racing and unsteady at times. She just prayed that neither his brain nor his heart had been damaged by this. It was still a large possibility. The young Elf had effectively died on them for a while. Just the thought of losing that bright mind and loving heart hurt more than she had realised or would ever admit. Why did she feel like this? Calandor should be just another patient, just another who needed her help.

Yes, she liked him, had liked him for some time. He had such a wonderful personality that shone out from the others. She had seen him with Legolas, seen how wonderfully he interacted with the young Prince.

Legolas would likely not survive the loss of another person he cared for this soon. His spirit, fragile at the moment, would surely fade and move on to the Halls of Mandos to seek his mother. No, that Valar would not be so cruel to do that to the Prince.

The smell of cooking began to permeate the cave and she realised that she was hungry. She looked around her, all was peaceful. Two warriors stood guard at the cave entrance, their backs to them. She would be sleeping near her patients this night; she needed to be near to all of them. But if she were to be truthful to herself it was also to be near to Calandor. To say she was confused was an understatement. Why she felt this she did not know.

Sighing to herself, she crossed to the corner that Ruthwen and Imles had claimed. They had their own small fire burning, even though they could feel the heat from the main fire, seemingly oblivious they were wasting precious fuel that they would be needing if it continued to rain like this. She made her way to the packs that had been laid at the back and found her own. She lifted it and was about to walk away when Ruthwen blocked her path.

It was obvious that the other Elleth was in a towering temper, not that Doroniel cared either way. Ruthwen's already spiteful looks had hardened and made her look as nasty as her personality actually was.

"How dare you speak to me like that? Who do you think you are?! You are a servant and nothing more. If you ever speak to me like that again, you will live to regret it!" Ruthwen really was in a temper, but she should have known better than to pick a confrontation with another who had a fine temper as well, especially after this day's trials had taken their toll on her patience.

Doroniel drew herself up, her own ire coming to the fore. She very rarely lost her temper, but when she did it was wise not to stay in the vicinity. Even her own brothers fled when they saw the deep furrow that was currently marring her beautiful features. Doroniel was beautiful, with long raven hair that fell in a cascade of curls down her back when it was not confined in braids. Her face was porcelain pale, as most elves were. She was tall and graceful. When compared to Ruthwen, their differences were amazing to see. Now she towered over the other Elleth.

"I spoke to you as I did because you were being selfish and immature. You could see the King and his son were injured and all you could think of was your comfort! I have never, ever in my life come across anyone as selfish and self-serving as you. You proclaim to care for the King, yet all you can do is whine for your comfort when he is injured? You did not even seek to offer him aid!" Doroniel's eyes flashed and she took a step closer to Ruthwen.

"How dare you call me a servant! For your information, My Lady," Doroniel's voice was thin and determined, throbbing with anger as she spoke. "My Adar is actually a higher-ranking court official than yours. That makes me no one's servant! Just because you think yourself better than others does not mean you can belittle those around you. Before you start throwing allegations like that, you should be sure of your facts. I chose to become a healer because I wanted to help my King, my beloved home and my people. Sadly, it is more than I can say of you. Now if you will excuse me, Lady, I have patients to look after." Doroniel pushed coolly past the furious Elleth, aware of her poisonous glare, but not caring one bit. She made her way back to the fire with her head held high.

That had felt good, she decided as she made her way to the fire. She did not often flaunt her heritage or the ranking of her House, the fact that her father was one of Thranduil's most trusted advisers. Her father had been her only parent since she had reached maturity. Her mother had sailed from the Grey Havens soon after she reached her majority. Her Adar had been a huge influence in her life. His love and support had helped her to see that she should be grateful for the respect and good fortune that came with his position. He also taught her not to brag about it to others, if only Ruthwen's parents had done the same.

She looked up to see the approving looks of her fellow Elves, she knew all too well that Ruthwen had not endeared herself to her fellow travelers. Her nasty, spiteful words and general attitude had not been well-received by those sharing the hardships.

She gave them an apologetic smile before spreading her bedding between Calandor and Legolas so that he could reach either of them if they needed her.

Slowly, all the others began to settle down on their own beds. Guards had been set for the night from those unhurt in the fighting and the cave grew calm. Everyone was still a little stunned from witnessing what appeared to them to be the death of their King, struck by the lightning, not only their King but his son, their Prince, as well. It would have been too much for some to endure after the loss of their beloved Queen.

Many of them had been present that fateful day. A routine patrol of the King's Home Guard came across the horrible scene that would remain with them for the rest of their immortal lives.

Early that morning, Queen Minerella took Legolas for a ride in the forest, something she always did when the weather was fine. She took great joy in the beauty of the trees and Legolas loved the horses and asked for a ride every day, no matter what the weather. At Thranduil's insistence she had taken along ten of the Home Guard.

The day had been exceptionally fine and Legolas had been having fun until they had been ambushed by a large group of Orcs who should not have been able to get so close to the Palace. The ten Home Guards had fought bravely, but they had been overwhelmed by sheer numbers and surprise

The aftermath had been heart-breaking. All had fought with a fierceness rarely seen. The guards had not witnessed the battle, but they could tell from the evidence before them what had happened. All their friends and colleagues were dead, as was the Queen. Even the Queen had taken down a few Orcs while protecting her son, their bodies strewn about her, bore witness. She had fought fiercely, but with little hope. There remained a handful of Orcs that had crowded around the small lump that turned out to be their Prince. He was the last one alive and that was only because the Orc's had been 'playing' with him before they arrived.

Legolas had been hurt and traumatized. Many times they thought they would lose him from his injuries and then, as he recovered, from his grief. Thranduil hid his grief for Legolas' sake though he too nearly faded from this world.

So, for them to see the still bodies of King and Prince that day had been a great shock. At Doroniel's insistence, they were all to retire early and rest to let them recover. They would not be traveling the next day.

Randis and Doroniel were the only ones awake, apart from the guards. She sat by the fire sipping another warm sweetened tea, when she suddenly began to shake uncontrollably. Randis reached across and took the goblet from her hand before she spilled it over herself.

"Are you alright?" Randis was watching her with worry plain on his fair face.

"Yes, I think it is just reaction."

"You were close to Calandor when he was struck, were you not?" He moved closer to her, his worry growing. Her trembling had not slowed.

"Yes, you know he pushed me away and I... oh." She could feel a blush spreading over her cheeks.

"Yes. 'Oh.' I may not be a healer, but I would hazard a guess that the lightning will have affected you as well and you have not been checked out. You worry far too much about others and not enough about yourself! Tell me, how do you feel?"

Doroniel blinked as she looked at him. Now that she was sitting quietly, she realised her ears were ringing and her fingers were tingling, but that was nothing compared to a headache that had begun to blossom earlier but had been ignored before this moment. "Awful."

Randis was surprised at her unexpected honesty. He had not expected that. "Then you must lie down and rest. I will look after the injured. If I am at all worried, I will awaken you." He helped her to lie down and covered her with blankets.

"Promise me you will wake me?" Fatigue was now overcoming her. She had never felt this terrible before. Even as she agreed to rest, a part of her mind was analysing the way her body was reacting, matching it to the symptoms that she had seen that day. Soon, however, sleep overcame her. Randis noticed her eyes closed as she slept, a sign she was not fully well.

For a few peaceful hours only the sounds of the downpour outside were heard. It was after the second watch that a low groan was heard from one of the bundles by the fire. Randis reached over to check his friend, only to receive a clenched fist in his face as Calandor began to have a fit before him. He had to stop the stars from spinning in his sight before he could reach for Doroniel to wake her. She startled as her arm was touched and gave a confused glance around before jumping from her bed. Randis grabbed hold of Calandor to prevent him from rolling into the fire.

Calling for someone to bring hot water and not bothering to keep her voice low, she reached Calandor's side. She was aware that the rest of the cave was waking and watching her every action. She dug in her pack for her healing herbs.

A snide voice came from behind her. "So the heroine comes to the fore again." She ignored Ruthwen and carried on.

Doroniel was just mixing the herbs she needed when a shrill frightened scream cut through the air...

To be continued . . .

That's it for now. Please let us know what you think?

Replies to reviews

Aknightofni: Our first reviewer! Thank you and we are glad that you like this. Please continue to let us know what you think?

Deana: Thank you and we both hope you like this.

Kitty: Thank you and we both like that about little Legolas as well. there will be more on his link with nature later on.

Thank you all once again and see you very soon!

love,

Sinister Sindar Sisters