Claimer: I claim Cièdron, Bratherond, and Merionè. (the rest I'm afraid I cannot)
Ah, another long one….
Chapter 11
The Sons of Thranduil
* * *
"Which is why we should not waste our attention on childish matters such as song-making and drinking…" Bratherond grumbled quietly.
"Bratherond, just because you are about as cheery as Mount Doom, does not mean the rest of us must allow this darkness to foul our spirits!" Cièdron snapped, turning furiously towards the quietly brooding elf. Though a part of him tended to agree with Bratherond that now was no time to be concentrating on such frivolous pleasures when a warg or Orc could leap out of the woods at any moment, his heart ached to see Legolas in such a grim mood. It may have been against his better judgment to distract his and Legolas' attention from the danger surrounding them, but it was worth it to hear his brother's mirthful laugh. For a moment, it felt as if they were back in Thranduil's halls, not in this terrible black forest where not even the sun or the stars shone. But one can always count on Bratherond to hail in the storm clouds…
"It is not your spirits I wish to darken, but your minds I wish to focus!" Bratherond sputtered in return. The elf now brought his mount to a halt and turned to face the brothers. It is as I thought! They do not realize the danger! They think they could get away with playful antics and distractions! Ai! I would that they learn from me that they cannot treat this so lightly, but I fear it will take a pack of wargs to knock some sense into them!
"Well you have managed to darken our spirits and distract our minds, Bratherond, so you have failed in that task!" Legolas stopped his own horse and glared viciously at Bratherond, losing all trace of his earlier mirth as annoyance and frustration trickled back into his eyes.
With a groan Merionè pulled his horse next to the three elves. "You are all growing too distracted now! Please, I beg of you, quit this reckless quarrelling! We may as well lay down our weapons, set off Mithrandir's firecrackers and sit here and wait for our enemies to attack! Do you not see? We are allowing this darkness to overpower us!"
Gandalf too pulled his horse aside, "Aye! This is foolish! Our missions are far too important and we are not each other's enemies! This is exactly what Sauron wants! Come now, let us follow Aragorn, he is already getting far ahead…"
As the wizard spoke, Merionè glanced around nervously and noticed that the eyes around them proliferated like blinking stars emerging in a darkening night sky. His horse let out a fretful neigh, and in response, Merionè backed away slightly from the fight, focusing his attention on the terrible, yellow eyes instead. They darted eagerly from one quarreling elf to another, waiting for the elves to let down their guard completely.
Bratherond sneered, "Aye, the human has more sense than us. Soon we will be following dwarves…"
"You will not speak of him in that way!! You know not who you insult!" Legolas yelled, causing his horse to twitch and neigh nervously.
"Peace Legolas!" Gandalf shushed as his own horse began to twitch nervously. The wizard too had a heavy feeling something was amiss and the eyes lured his attention away from the fight as well.
"I am not insulting him, and I do know who he is, he is a descendent of those who got us into this mess in the first place! To point out the intrinsic flaws in humans is not to insult them! I merely speak the truth!"
Like distant waves, the heated dispute dimmed in Merionè's ears as he reluctantly turned his head around to perceive that the eyes were slowly inching towards them…
A searing flash brightened Legolas' livid eyes as he gripped his horse's hair with trembling hands. "You will take that back Bratherond," he seethed.
Suddenly, Merionè's horse bucked and neighed fretfully. He heard Gandalf curse beside him as his horse panicked suddenly as well. Gray shadows now materialized behind those horrible eyes.
"BRATHEROND, LEGOLAS, CIÈDRON, ARM YOURSELVES! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" Merionè shouted as he swiftly pulled out his bow and let fly a series of arrows just as at least a dozen wargs roared ferociously and bounded out of the black shadows. Though a few of his arrows found their marks, he instantly berated himself when he realized he should have set his aim in another direction…
Merionè's cry was belated as it came when the snarling, frothing beasts were already upon the riders. In stunned horror, Legolas watched as a warg flew straight at his brother's side, its razor claws gripping his tunic as they toppled to the ground.
"CIÈDRON!"
Without thinking, Legolas nimbly leapt off his own mount and slid beneath Cièdron's bucking horse, paying no heed to the risk of getting crushed by its hooves. In an instant, he lay next to his brother who, not having the time to unsheathe any weapons, now struggled to hold back the warg's powerful snapping jaws as they feverishly clamped closer and closer to his neck.
Legolas wasted no time in taking advantage of his freed position to whip out his ivory knife and drive it into the warg's neck, rolling as he did so just out of the way of the heavy hooves of Cièdron's frantic horse. He pushed the warg off of his brother as he pulled out the knife, but not before the creature's crimson blood spurted furiously onto Cièdron's face and heaving chest. Legolas' roll ended with him supporting himself above his brother, his fair, panicked face taking the place of the frightful warg in Cièdron's blurred and bloodied vision.
"Cièdron! Are you ok?!" Legolas panted, but before Cièdron could answer, another warg landed heavily on Legolas' back, causing him to collapse on top of his brother, violently knocking the air out of both of their lungs. His face fell into the ground next to Cièdron's head and he struggled to push himself up, but the warg on top of him proved to be too heavy. Legolas gasped as he felt its sharp claws begin to dig into his back and its steamy breath tickle his neck. He braced himself, expecting at any moment to feel the warg's teeth painfully dig into his neck. And so this is how it will end... Ai! Please let him be satisfied with just me! Please do not take Cièdron as well!
Cièdron's eyes widened as the warg redirected its ravenous gaze from the back of Legolas' neck to his own unguarded face and the elf lurched desperately against the weight of both Legolas and the warg, straining to reach his weapon. Feeling Cièdron's sudden struggle and not feeling the pain of his neck being crushed or the hot breath upon it, Legolas instantly guessed that the warg had chosen his brother instead for prey. Using every last ounce of his strength, he struggled even more fervently than he had when it was his own life on the brink, frantically striving to lift himself so that Cièdron could reach his knife. 'No! Please take me! Leave him be!' he begged of whatever power may be listening. He did not even know whether he yelled this out loud or only in his mind.
But pinned down as he was, Cièdron held little hope in fighting off the warg. Accepting his fate, he squeezed his eyes shut when the dagger-like teeth snapped just inches away from his face, causing him to nearly choke on its putrid breath. Fear fled from him and all Cièdron could feel was a numb sadness that his brother would no doubt blame himself for his death. If Legolas even survived this! Ai, please just take me, do not take Legolas too… just me…
Suddenly, Cièdron felt a warm, sticky liquid drip on his face again and he heard the clinking and gurgling of hungry, clamping jaws cease with a stifled yelp. His eyes snapped open in time to see the warg roll off of Legolas' back with one of the ranger's arrows protruding from its throat.
Reacting quickly, Legolas jumped to his feet and pulled Cièdron up with him. "Cièdron, are you…" Legolas began to ask again, panic clouding his eyes.
"Legolas, I am fine," Cièdron interrupted curtly as he furiously drew out his own dagger.
Legolas could not control his grin, so great was his relief that not only was Cièdron not seriously injured, he was now as ready as he was to dive into the bloody battle they had somehow landed themselves into. A split second passed as the brothers caught each other's eyes and with a slight nod they whipped around gracefully so that they stood back to back, surveying the violent scene around them.
* * *
Immediately after turning around and seeing Cièdron's horse without Cièdron, Aragorn kicked his horse and galloped back towards the group. As he did so, he watched in amazement as Legolas dived to his brother's side, just missing being crushed underneath the hooves of Cièdron's horse. When a moment later he glimpsed another warg leaping atop Legolas, he drew his bow and calling on the Valar to bless his aim, shot an arrow just as the warg leaned forward to put an end to Cièdron.
But Aragorn did not have the chance to make sure his arrow met its target as he galloped straight into the midst of the chaotic battle. Swiftly replacing his bow with his sword, he began to skewer the wargs one by one, until one finally realized it would be best to attack the ranger from behind, thus catching him off guard and knocking him to the ground. Grimacing at the shooting pain that ripped up his side, Aragorn rolled over to find himself face to face with a snarling warg. With a loud grunt, he grabbed his sword, which had fallen to his side, and swung it up, leaving a deep gash in the wolf's side. Merionè's own sword finished the warg off and the elf quickly helped Aragorn to his feet.
"There are more of them coming!" Merionè yelled to the ranger as he swung his sword at two attacking wargs before spinning around to stab another one in midair as it jumped straight at him. Merionè and Aragorn continued to cover each other's backs, stabbing one warg only to immediately help the other wrestle off another.
The horses now thrashed about violently, kicking away the endless onslaught of wolves nipping at their legs and neck and sending up storms of dust and leaves to add to the confusion. Bratherond jumped off of his own bucking mount and pierced a warg that had been biting the horse's hind legs, before ordering the horse to flee.
"The princes! Where are the princes!?" Bratherond kept yelling above the frenzied struggle around him. As soon as Cièdron had toppled from his horse, Bratherond, Merionè, and Gandalf found themselves with their own wargs to battle. Only by diving off of his horse, did Legolas miss being immediately attacked.
Gandalf remained on his mount and swung his staff dangerously, its fatal blow never missing its mark. The wizard did not lose his balance nor cease his swinging as his horse jumped to its hind legs and vigorously leapt around the beasts and weaved through the trees. He knocked one warg to the ground just as it was about to land on Merionè's back and then moved swiftly to aid Bratherond by bludgeoning a warg seconds away from pouncing upon him.
"Be gone, abominable servants of Sauron! Into the fiery pits of Mordor is where you shall brood! A dark fate for dark creatures who challenge Gandalf the Grey! Away!! " the wizard cried as he walloped another warg with his staff.
* * *
Separated from the others, Legolas and Cièdron were able to maintain their back-to-back stance for a short while as they fought off the attacking wolves. But they quickly found themselves backing even further away from the group as the vicious creatures continued to trample towards them. Like ants flooding out of their nest, more wargs emerged from the shadowy woods and gravitated towards the princes. Though their long knives cut through them swiftly and mortally, they were soon surrounded by a half circle of snarling, heinous wargs. The beasts paused and considered the elves, mocking their dire situation. Their yelps and roars quieted to soft, threatening growls as they prepared to take down their easy prey. Behind them the battle raged on though none within it could possibly break free in time to help the two elves.
Slowly Cièdron and Legolas backed up, never removing their icy eyes from the yellow ones of the wargs that now steadily closed in on them. They may have only had a fool's hope now, but that did not mean they would go down without a fight. They would certainly not be easy prey and the elves made this known through their steely stares.
When left with nothing but a fool's hope, one must also resort to a fool's plan. But even the most foolish of plans may prove to be successful in desperate situations. Or at least this is what Legolas hoped when a rather ridiculous idea occurred to him. He only hoped Cièdron would be foolish enough to go with it.
"Cièdron," Legolas softly hissed as he stealthily placed his knife in its sheath and reached behind his back. "What would Alasse do in this situation?" Legolas asked this in elvish as he carefully wrapped his hand around his bow, never removing his eyes from the wargs.
Cièdron smirked darkly, immediately picking up on his brother's cryptic plan. Feeling desperate enough to actually follow it, he too cautiously reached behind him for his own bow. "I believe, dear brother, that she would confuse the hell out of these foul creatures and then shoot the ones that least expected to be shot."
The bond that the brothers shared never worked more in their favor as both instantly knew what to do without having to further elaborate their plan. Quicker than a mortal eye could perceive, they both whisked out their bows and to the complete surprise and utter confusion of the wargs, they turned and took aim at each other. If any of the others could pause from their own battle to watch Legolas and Cièdron, they would see an intimidating display of the two brothers in what appeared to be a dangerous contest of wills. Tall and proud they both stood, steadily holding their bows with the bowstring taut and the arrow pulled back, its deadly point aimed directly at the other's heart.
Stunned by this seemingly idiotic move, or perhaps wondering if the two elves were actually enemies of each other, the wargs hesitated for a moment. Then, a warg at each end of the semi-circle, having found themselves out of view of the two elves as they now faced each other, took advantage of this obvious opportunity to leap at their backs.
But this was exactly what the brothers expected, and just as the wargs' feet left the ground they swiveled their aims and the twang of their bows tore through the air. The wargs fell dead to the ground as the elves swerved their aims again and shot two more pairs of arrows, instantly killing four more wargs. They then quickly traded their bows once again for their daggers to fight off the rest that came plummeting at them at once.
"Cièdron! Remember how Jerilaen shot her arrows!" Legolas shouted as he simultaneously sliced the snout of one warg and with his other hand punched the throat of another.
Cièdron certainly did remember Jerilaen. She had a most bizarre talent of being able to hold her crossbow above her head and shoot backwards, almost always hitting the target. The elf frowned and after pulling his dagger out of a warg, swung it up and backwards, stabbing another warg that came at him from behind, without even turning his head. Later, he would marvel at how he knew this was Legolas' way of warning him about a warg flying at him from behind, but now in the heat of the battle, his mind worked swiftly and instinctively, immediately allowing him to interpret Legolas' words and thoughts.
"Legolas I do not think this is a time for any games…you could have just told me…"
"Cièdron! Ada after we spilled wine in the council room!" Legolas interrupted as he swerved and wounded a warg to his right.
Cièdron let out an aggravated sigh, but remembered the time Thranduil slipped on their wine and fell flat on his face. The brothers later joked that he had looked so angry they thought he may pounce at both of them like a starving warg. Thus Cièdron assumed a warg was similarly prone behind him. He quickly swiveled around and with an underhand strike, stabbed the neck of a squatting wolf.
"Legolas, that was a more difficult one… Had I not gotten it…" Cièdron trailed off as he struggled with another warg that came up behind the other.
Through gritted teeth, Legolas continued his warnings, as he drove back one warg only to have to instantly grapple with another. "Käriler and Filinor and the mules!!"
Cièdron's eyes widened slightly and after killing his warg, he quickly dropped his knife and grabbed his bow. Spinning around as he took aim between the trees, Cièdron shot at least six wargs flying at them from all directions. He then cast an arrow at Legolas' warg, killing it and releasing his brother from that fight.
For a second the two caught their breath and smirked triumphantly at each other, but upon seeing three more wargs rushing towards them, Cièdron straightened and grabbed a branch above him. Finally giving in to Legolas' game, he shouted as he hoisted himself up,
"Legolas! The fire in the foundries!"
Remembering how he and Cièdron hid in the trees as three of the blacksmiths chased after them, suspecting they were somehow responsible for the fire, Legolas leapt up and followed Cièdron into the branch where the two shot at the three wargs, and then continued shooting as more wargs gathered, barking and growling at the base of the tree.
* * *
Meanwhile, Bratherond continued to fight ruthlessly against the wargs, beheading and viciously gouging every unlucky creature that crossed his path, all the while struggling to locate the princes. Every time he glimpsed one of them, another warg would jump in his way and by the time he finished with it, they disappeared behind their own share of wolves.
"Legolas! Cièdron!" Bratherond shouted above the fray when he spotted the two elves further off in the woods, battling the ferocious ambush. With a grizzly yell, he heaved, shoved, stabbed and punched a path through the bloody battle, determined to fight beside the princes himself. His oath to Thranduil would not be broken so soon!
But Bratherond's oath was also his weakness, as oaths so often are to those who speak them. So focused was he on reaching the elves, he took little heed to his own peril, and his narrowed senses failed to spot the two colossal wargs racing towards him from the right.
With a surprised gasp, Bratherond crashed to the ground beneath a sinewy, powerful body, feeling as if he had just been struck by an enormous boulder. For a moment his vision blurred and darkened and he could not find his breath as it had been forced out of his lungs from his collapse. Bratherond grimaced as the beast's claws dug into his left arm, drawing blood and numbing it as it constricted the blood flow to his hand.
But Bratherond was not an elf who would give up so easily. 'As long as I stand Cièdron will stand!' he had promised Thranduil. By the Valar, then I will at least stand until Dol Guldur! We will not fail so soon!
With a roar, the elf grasped his knife in his right hand and swung aimlessly above him and by some blessing of the Valar, his knife found its target embedded between the warg's ribs causing it to stumble off of him.
But alas! As soon as he freed himself of one, his hands were immediately pinned down by the paws of the other. Bratherond choked on his surprise and his eyes bulged in fear, but still he would not yield to the wolf and he kicked, squirmed, and yelled desperately, doing everything in his power to shake off the terrible warg.
The elf's struggles were futile though and he surely would have been doomed had it not been for one more blessing from the Valar. Yet the blessing came from what Bratherond would consider a most unlikely, most unthinkable place – or rather person. Just as the warg prepared its final, mortal blow, a sword beheaded the creature… a human's sword… Aragorn's sword.
Aragorn did not have to think twice when he saw Bratherond crushed under the heavy weight of the warg, seconds away from being mauled to pieces. Bratherond may have been a haughty, disrespectful, narrow-minded, biased, intolerant braggart and a royal pain, but even this elf did not deserve such an end. Thus Aragorn did not hesitate in saving the elf's life.
Bratherond blinked in shock at the human above him, offering his hand to help him to his feet. A human saving an elf! Have I grown so weak? Bratherond grimaced at this thought, but grasped Aragorn's hand and quickly regained his composure. He struggled to find words to thank the ranger, but none came to him and the result was an awkward, forced nod, which Aragorn automatically returned. The two then immediately continued to finish off the remaining wargs.
Merionè stabbed two last wargs before noticing the growing group at the base of one of Mirkwood's dark, gnarled trees. Upon seeing two arrows rip out of the tree, he grabbed his bow and began shooting at the huddled wargs. One by one, as Aragorn, Bratherond and Gandalf finished the wargs around them, Merionè calmly and with the grace of a seasoned warrior, shot down the last of the beasts that kept the princes in the tree until finally they all lay in a gory heap. When he finished, he lowered his bow and waited patiently for Cièdron and Legolas to jump down.
Bratherond and Aragorn, both fighting to catch their breath, ambled over to Merionè while Gandalf surveyed the macabre remnants of the battle. Over fifty wargs now lay dead, scattered amongst the twisted trees in pools of blood and fur. The wizard grimly shook his head and whistled for the other horses to return, not following Aragorn and Bratherond as they joined Merionè in waiting for the princes.
Bratherond anxiously followed Merionè's composed gaze and noted the pile of bloody, lifeless wargs at the base of the tree. "Where are they Merionè? By the Valar, they are not underneath that, are they?!" he gasped as he pointed at the pile.
Merionè kept his gaze steady as he answered contemptuously, "Do you really think I would be standing here if they were underneath those wargs, Bratherond? They will be down in a moment."
Aragorn studied the pile of wargs and the tree when suddenly a slight twitch and scuffle in the branches caught his attention. Merionè and Bratherond also saw the quaver and narrowed their eyes suspiciously. Suddenly, Aragorn caught a faint glimmer out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly to find the source of the gleam and gasped. The ranger's mind screamed in remembrance of the last time he watched a similar scuffle in the branches between the foundry and archery grounds in Thranduil's realm.
"BY THE VALAR!" he yelled as he sprinted to the tree.
Merionè turned his head to Bratherond, hoping he could offer an explanation, when the same glimmer caught his eye. His eyes widened and he cursed furiously in elvish. A moment later, Bratherond too spotted the glimmer – which emanated from an intricately weaved, gigantic spiderweb, perched between two trees not far behind the one the princes had climbed into.
"LEGOLAS! CIÈDRON! WHERE IS IT!?" Aragorn shouted as he took out his bow and aimed from one spot to another, struggling to locate his target. Bratherond and Merionè were instantly at his side, feverishly aiming their own bows as well, though even their elven eyes could not find anything.
The three aimlessly pointed their arrows and carefully scanned the thick, black network of branches for the princes, but to no avail. The tree now remained as still as petrified wood – not a twig trembled. Though the elves and ranger could not make out the depths of its branches, there appeared to be no sign whatsoever of Legolas and Cièdron.
"I'm going up there," Bratherond declared as he put away his bow.
Remembering Legolas' and Cièdron's fight in the trees his first night in Mirkwood, Aragorn turned and peered into the branches of the neighboring oaks while Bratherond climbed into the first one. Just as he guessed, one of the nearby trees suddenly began to shake violently.
"They are over there!" he shouted as he rushed to the trembling tree.
Merionè proved even quicker than Aragorn in drawing his bow and aiming at the new set of jumbled, intertwined branches. This time, his elven eyes caught a target and his bow sang as he released an arrow, immediately followed by another.
The quaking stopped and again, the tree was still. Hesitatingly, Merionè lowered his bow and he and Aragorn held their breath as they worriedly searched between the branches.
The woods suddenly fell silent – too silent. Aragorn could feel his heart pound against his chest as he desperately prayed for Legolas and Cièdron to hop down safely from the tree, either bickering with each other or joking, singing or teasing…anything, just so long as they climbed down! Where in Middle Earth are they? What if one is injured? What if they are both injured? Or worse…
No! They are fine! They have to be fine! Aragorn gritted his teeth and paced around the base of the tree never lowering his head as he peered into layer upon layer of thick, black leaves. His ears heard every twitch, scuttle and crackle that reverberated throughout the woods, but he only wished to hear one sound now – the melodious voices of Legolas and Cièdron.
"LEGOLAS! CIÈDRON!" the ranger called despairingly. Merionè stood frightfully still, barely even breathing as several long moments passed and still there was no sign of the princes.
Finally, just as Aragorn decided he would go up into the trees himself, one last forceful shudder passed through the quiet oak and a giant spider tumbled to the ground. Two of Merionè's arrows pierced its side and an ivory dagger lay embedded in its belly. A second later another spider fell, its own belly gouged with another bloody ivory dagger.
Aragorn and Merionè simultaneously gaped at the spiders and snapped their heads back up at the branches, watching and waiting for two elves to follow.
"Looking for something, my friends?" a tired voice taunted from behind them.
"I believe it may be us they are searching for," another strained voice answered.
Aragorn and Merionè whipped around and with unimaginable relief stared at Legolas and Cièdron, both bloodied and panting for breath, but nonetheless alive and standing. A moment later, Bratherond dropped out of the branches behind them.
"Hiding in the trees here apparently is not the safest way to escape the beasts that scour the forest floor…" Cièdron attempted a grin, but could only manage a pained, lopsided grimace. Legolas grabbed his brother's arm to steady him as Merionè, Bratherond and Aragorn hurried to their sides.
Aragorn's eyes hastily scanned the two elves. Without a doubt, Cièdron appeared the worst of the two, for his pale skin barely peaked through the dried blood that covered his face and neck and matted his hair. In various places, his clothing was ripped revealing scratches and wounds, though how serious any of them were was hard for even Aragorn to say, so mixed was the elf's own blood with that of the wargs. But as he attempted to walk forward, Cièdron's face contorted in pain and he stumbled as his left leg gave way. Were it not for Legolas at his side, the elf would have surely collapsed. Aragorn caught his breath and swiftly fell to his knees to study the prince's leg.
Bratherond muttered a few curses and bent down next to Aragorn. A deep gash stretched from above Cièdron's knee to the top of his calf. "Was this from the spider, Cièdron?" Aragorn demanded.
Cièdron chuckled darkly, "It is difficult for me to tell which ones are from the wargs and which are from the spiders I'm afraid!"
Aragorn pursed his lips and attempted to wipe the wound with a ripped piece of his tunic. "We must pay close attention to all of them then."
Bratherond suspiciously studied the surrounding trees and turned his attention back to Cièdron's leg. "We must not tarry. We must leave here now and set up a camp with a fire."
"Some of these wounds may be serious, Bratherond. They must be treated immediately." Aragorn answered firmly.
"They are elves! They can wait a few minutes as we move away from this cursed spot!" Bratherond seethed.
"All spots here are cursed Bratherond!" Aragorn angrily returned.
Suddenly, Cièdron pulled away his leg and gazed intently at Aragorn. "Bratherond is right Aragorn. We cannot stay here. Our wounds can wait."
Legolas turned to his brother with a mixture of surprise and worry. "Cièdron, are you sure…"
"Yes, Legolas I am sure!" Cièdron snapped, though his brusque reply was due to the pain he was fighting to conceal, not to any real annoyance with his brother.
Aragorn sighed and stood up. "Fine, we will move on then."
"I believe it will be much easier with these though, don't you think?" a voice suddenly chirped, followed by a chorus of snorts and neighs. Gandalf studied the group from his mount, his gaze lingering particularly on Cièdron and Legolas.
"Will you be able to ride?" the wizard carefully asked the two.
"Of course!" they spat out simultaneously, sounding very insulted that the wizard could even think otherwise.
Gandalf eyed them doubtfully, but conceded, "Very well. We will not go far, but it would be wise to put some distance between ourselves and this part of the wood. I care not to dwell any longer in this graveyard."
With Legolas' help, Cièdron hopped to his horse and, not without a bit of struggle, mounted it. After he was seated he suddenly grasped his left side and quietly clenched his teeth in pain. Unfortunately, Legolas and the others did not notice this as they mounted their own horses.
Aragorn noted grimly that Legolas did not exactly look too much better than Cièdron. He could walk at least, but not without a faint swoon and there was no shortage of blood staining his clothes as well though again, he could not tell whether the blood was elven or not. The others looked positively hale in comparison, though they all sported their shares of bruises and cuts. Bratherond had one nasty gash on his left arm that Aragorn did not particularly look forward to treating. As for himself, his biggest concern was a few badly bruised ribs from his fall.
But he noticed a shadow pass over Merionè's features as he mounted his horse and he wondered if perhaps the elf was hiding an injury.
"If you are injured Merionè…" Aragorn started quietly as he rode up next to the elf.
"Nay Aragorn, I am not injured." Merionè's voice barely reached above a whisper and he avoided Aragorn's eyes as he spoke, concentrating instead on the horse's mane as he pressed forward. It is my fault, this battle. Why could I not warn them sooner? I saw those eyes move forward before they attacked. Why did I not scream sooner?
Aragorn did not doubt the sincerity of Merionè's answer and so he did not press him further. Instead he just nodded and looked away, knowing the elf would not reveal his true troubles.
They had ridden for barely a half hour before Gandalf decided they had come upon a suitable area to rest for the night. Barely able to walk, Cièdron stumbled to a large, moss covered rock to lean against as he sat on the ground. Legolas followed and sat just behind his brother on top of the rock. Using water from one of his canteens, Legolas wetted a scrap of cloth from his tunic and proceeded to clean his brother's face and neck.
"Next time you fall off your horse, try to fall into a clean stream," Legolas murmured as he gently scrubbed the grime and blood from his brother's forehead and cheek.
"Next time you kill a warg, try to make the blood spurt in your direction," Cièdron returned. He winced slightly as Legolas attempted to run his fingers through his matted hair.
Legolas noticed the wince and frowned as he tried to detangle the hair a little more gently. "Am I hurting you Cièdron?"
"Nay, I am fine."
Legolas' frown deepened as he pulled aside all of Cièdron's hair so that he could clean the elf's neck. "You have been saying that to me ever since you first stood after that warg toppled you. I do not believe you."
"All right then, it does hurt a little when someone pulls on my hair, but I understand you are not doing that purposely," Cièdron responded tersely, refusing to reveal his real pains. The elf's voice was weak and breathless as he spoke and he struggled to control its tremor.
Legolas sighed and rubbed Cièdron's shoulders before returning to his hair. Otherwise, he did not respond, but looked anxiously towards Aragorn who had gathered some plants and was beginning to heat them over a small fire. Bratherond busied himself cleansing and bandaging his own wound ('I need no help - I have cleaned more wounds than have been ravaged on all the elves of Mirkwood by the hounds of Sauron! ' Aragorn did not argue with this, despite the faulty logic.) After muttering something under his breath about Bratherond and the hounds of Sauron, Gandalf hastily scanned Merionè for wounds and then helped the elf to clean and bandage them.
When the herbs were all placed in the pot, Aragorn kneeled next to Legolas and Cièdron so that he could tend to the gash on Cièdron's leg. The ranger gingerly peeled away the ripped clothing from the wound and proceeded to dab at it with a scrap of wet cloth. Cièdron hissed and twitched uncomfortably despite Aragorn's best efforts to assuage the pain.
"For pity's sake, hold still you impossible oaf," Legolas mumbled as Cièdron reeled from Aragorn's touch. But his voice was not at all admonishing and he squeezed Cièdron's shoulder gently as he said this.
"You're next," was the only response Cièdron could muster through his clenched teeth.
"I'm going to put some medicine on this now… it may hurt a bit…" Aragorn warned as he got up and walked over to the fire to retrieve his pot which had heated to a soft simmer.
"Ah, well, what's a little more pain when…" Cièdron choked and gasped on the final part of his sentence as his body suddenly jerked violently.
"Cièdron!" Legolas' eyes widened in fear and he grabbed his brother around the shoulders. "Cièdron! Are you ok? Cièdron, speak to me, are you ok!?"
When he remained doubled over in pain, unable to answer, Legolas jumped off his rock and bent over Cièdron, gently lifting his brother's face between his hands. Legolas caught his breath when he felt how clammy and soaked it had suddenly become.
And white. Nay, not even white- it is grey! Legolas' fear quickly escalated into panic and his voice trembled. "Cièdron! Cièdron, you must speak to me! Cièdron!" But all Cièdron could do was gasp desperately for air as he clenched his side and squeezed his eyes shut. Legolas grabbed his shoulders and frantically tried to subdue him. Never had the elf felt so helpless!
"Aragorn! Aragorn, he is not well! There is something wrong!"
Remembering his own spider wound, Legolas immediately focused on Cièdron's leg. "Venom! It must be venom! We need to retract the venom!"
Suddenly, Cièdron relaxed slightly and between gasps, he hissed inaudibly, "Nay! I think it is the other…"
Aragorn swiftly bent down next to the elf and hastily felt his cheeks and pulse. "Nay Legolas, it is not venom…" Aragorn's eyes scanned Cièdron's body, and he ran his hands over the elf's sides, feeling the blood soaked tunic for something he perhaps missed as he focused so heavily on the leg wound.
Aragorn caught his breath as he gently felt Cièdron's left side. The blood covering the elf's clothes had been dry, but underneath his arm, a warm sticky substance soaked through the dried blood. When Aragorn studied it more closely, he noted a small rip and that the warm wetness moistened a rather large area of the elf's already stained tunic.
"Quick! Someone bring me some cloth! A cape, a blanket, anything!" Aragorn yelled as he ripped open the tunic to reveal a gaping wound that still bled steadily and profusely.
Legolas staggered when he saw the wound. Ai! You fool! How could you allow him to hide that! How could you miss that! Suddenly the world around him lurched and the panicked voices of Aragorn, Merionè, Bratherond and Gandalf faded until they meant absolutely nothing to him. He tried to overcome the weights that held down his feet, to move, to say something, but his mouth became so dry not a word could escape and his limbs so heavy he had not the strength to move them. In the flickering orange glow, Legolas caught fleeting glimpses of his brother, his face twisted in pain, and the calm determination of Aragorn.
Gandalf, Bratherond and Merionè all scurried around Cièdron bringing Aragorn water, cloth, herbs and whatever else the ranger demanded as he zealously cleansed the wound and fought to halt the bleeding. Cièdron continued to gasp and hiss as Aragorn worked, but gradually his body slackened and his breaths became quieter. Amidst the chaos, Legolas found himself being pushed out of the way until he could not even see his brother through the bodies that surrounded him. He did not remember standing up, but he became aware of it when he noticed his knees felt like rubber beneath him.
Several long, dazed minutes passed before the chaos died down slightly and Merionè and Bratherond backed away leaving Aragorn, Gandalf and Cièdron fully within Legolas' view. As he walked by, Merionè laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder.
"Do not worry, young Thranduillion, I believe he will be ok," Merionè assured gently, his voice full of kindness and concern for the elf.
Bratherond gave Legolas a grim look, but nodded gruffly in concurrence with Merionè.
The weights on Legolas' legs were suddenly lifted and the elf bolted to Cièdron's side, gasping when he saw that he now lay unconscious, his head cradled in Gandalf's lap. Aragorn sat on his knees next to Gandalf, gently wiping the wet, blond tendrils from Cièdron's pallid face and then moved back to his leg to finish cleaning and wrapping it as well. Cièdron's tunic had been stripped off and in its place were layers of cloths tied tightly around his chest. A blanket had been draped around his shoulders and Gandalf carefully wrapped the elf in it, covering the multiple bruises and cuts that marred his stomach and chest.
Legolas gently laid a hand on Cièdron's cheek. His bright eyes shone with fear and worry, but he remained stoically quiet, afraid of what might happen if he tried to speak.
Gandalf sighed and stroked Cièdron's hair as he gazed sadly at Legolas.
"He will be fine Legolas."
The wizard had little doubt Cièdron would recover, but the pain and worry he saw etched in Legolas' eyes still tugged at his heart, which was already strained by watching the physical pain that claimed Cièdron. As he glanced at Cièdron's ashen, bruised face, and then the grieved, blood stained face of Legolas, a part of him even wondered if perhaps he had made a terrible mistake in bringing them along.
Bratherond is right. Neither of them knows what they have gotten themselves into. Aye, they had grown up with the darkness, had lived through the death of their brothers and the departure of their mother and other siblings, they had fought spiders and heard the dark tales of their father's warriors and scouts… It was not that they did not know about suffering and pain and loss. They knew all too well how shadowed the world had become for they lived in the heart of it.
But they had never felt it and experienced it so directly. Even when their brothers died, they were still very young for elves and neither actually witnessed the pain and suffering that Maegren and Feáner endured as their sister did. Despite the growing shadow, Thranduil had provided his two youngest with as much safety and normalcy as he could possibly muster. The king had always been determined to keep the shadow from claiming Legolas' and Cièdron's spirits, and indeed the realm of the wood elves had remained relatively free of the evil that pervaded the rest of the forest, even if that realm did grow smaller every year.
And now I have taken them from that realm. Ai! What have I done? I saw something in Legolas and I assumed it was my duty to take advantage of that. But did I even consider that Cièdron would not allow his brother to go alone? Did I consider the pain this would cause Thranduil and Cièdron? The pain this would cause Legolas? And I, who told Thranduil that it is often too soon that young ones must face the darkness of this world, have taken away his own children and plunged them into darkness. Ai, in what state will I return them to him? What have I done?
Gandalf sighed again and continued to stroke Cièdron's hair as Legolas lightly grabbed his brother's hand and began to sing softly to him in elvish. And then as Gandalf watched the two elves, he remembered how they fought. Aye, the wizard had seen their splendid fighting against the wargs. He saw how they cleverly worked together, and the shrewd, nimble skills they displayed. He saw how Legolas did not think twice about diving off of his horse to save Cièdron. And he saw now the depths of his heart as Legolas sang to and comforted his brother, who could neither hear his song nor feel his hand. These were not feeble, fragile cowards, willing to shirk their duties in favor of their own comfort and security - they were the sons of Thranduil, grandsons of Oropher. Alas that they must see darkness. But if the blood of Thranduil will not fight it then who will?
Aragorn turned his attention from Cièdron to Legolas. With a frown he noted the bruises and cuts that covered his arms and face. He hated to tear Legolas away from Cièdron, but what if one of his wounds was serious? Aragorn would not make the same mistake of missing such a wound twice.
"Mellonin, I must check your wounds now," Aragorn said gently.
Legolas stopped his singing and gazed up at Aragorn as if he just noticed the human was even there. "Nay Aragorn, my wounds need no attending to."
Gandalf shifted and peered closely at Legolas. "Let him check them Legolas. You can stay right here as he does it and I promise you I will not leave Cièdron."
Legolas pursed his lips defiantly, but even he could not ignore the sharp pain in his arm and on his back. With one last squeeze of Cièdron's hand he nodded and moved aside.
Aragorn hastened to Legolas' side, slightly worried that the elf had not offered more of a fight. After all, he had witnessed Legolas' intransigence before when it came to his own well being.
Without a word, Aragorn rolled up Legolas' sleeves, noting his wince as he did so, and patiently and diligently cleaned and covered his wounds. The ranger dismally noted that faint traces of the elf's earlier wound still remained on his arm, though fresh wounds now dwarfed the previous one. He then moved on to Legolas' legs and his back where after pushing aside the elf's hair he found the two small, but deep wounds from the warg that had landed on top of him. As he cleaned these Legolas twitched and hissed from the stinging pain.
"Try to hold still, mellonin," Aragorn quietly ordered. "I am sorry if I hurt you."
"It is the memory of how I got them that pains me," Legolas murmured. Shuddering slightly as he remembered how he thought he would die and then how he thought Cièdron would die underneath him as he lay there, not only powerless to stop the warg, but impeding Cièdron from being able to protect himself. It would have been my fault if he died. And it would have been my fault if he died this time. How could I have not seen that wound?
Aragorn frowned, but did not know what he could say to ease the elf's anguish so he continued quietly with his work. When he was done, he squatted in front of Legolas and squeezed his shoulder.
"How do you feel Legolas?"
"I am sore, Aragorn, but I am well. Do not worry about me," Legolas answered honestly. Aragorn nodded and placed his hand on the elf's cheek before reaching into his pack.
"You had forgotten this, Legolas," Aragorn said as he pulled out the elf's ivory knife.
Legolas' eyes widened and he looked gratefully at the ranger as he took the knife and tenderly grasped its handle.
"Thank you Aragorn." Legolas breathed. He held Aragorn's gaze for a moment and then glimpsed at his brother who appeared to be sleeping peacefully, though his eyes were still closed.
"There is no need to thank me, Legolas. You should rest."
"Aye…" Legolas seemed not to hear Aragorn as he returned to Cièdron's side and again laid his hand upon his brother's. Aragorn joined him and carefully returned Cièdron's knife to its sheath.
Gandalf watched the two of them and then turned to Aragorn. "You will rest fully tonight Aragorn. I will stay up and keep watch."
"Gandalf! Do not be ridiculous! You cannot…."
"Aragorn, I order you to sleep!" Gandalf sternly interrupted. He then turned to Merionè and Bratherond. "I want you two to sleep fully tonight as well."
Bratherond and Merionè stared at the wizard incredulously. "Mithrandir! That is absurd, we could take some watches!" Merionè insisted.
"I can go without sleep longer than you would think, Master Elves. As I am the least injured, I will take over the watches tonight so you could heal fully. I want my warriors to be intact with the new dawn."
Merionè gaped at Gandalf. "Mithrandir, I too am not that injured…" Merionè trailed off when the wizard's intense gaze fell on him.
"I want you to sleep Merionè," Gandalf firmly insisted. The wizard did not know what exactly it was that plagued Merionè, though he suspected it had something to do with the combination of his sea-longing and whatever it was he experienced with his warriors, both of which would be exacerbated if he did not rest.
"If I am tired, I will wake one of you, I promise. But as I am certain I will not sleep anyway, I insist that you heed my orders tonight. Tomorrow I will sleep fully."
"But to leave you awake alone for the entire night…" Bratherond began.
"I do not believe I will be alone, Bratherond," Gandalf sighed as his gaze fell upon Legolas who once again began to sing softly to his brother, unaware of the argument that was taking place around him.
Bratherond followed Gandalf's gaze and released his own sigh. Though he wanted to order Legolas to sleep and the wizard to split the watch with him tonight, even Bratherond knew both arguments would be futile. I will just let him think I am asleep…
Aragorn reluctantly reclined against a tree, but still remained at Cièdron's and Legolas' side. He watched as Gandalf laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder. The same sorrowful look that flooded the wizard's eyes when they first arrived in Mirkwood and watched Legolas tensely hold his bow as he led them through the bleak forest to the palace, returned as he watched Legolas tend to his brother.
A dry breeze rustled the leaves and the distant howling of wolves accompanied the crackling embers and Legolas' soft song. Again, Aragorn worriedly noticed the parchedness of the wood as his troubled mind slipped under the spell of much needed sleep.
TBC……
Wow! I never expected so many… well… threats! He just fell off his horse that's all! *cowers away from angry reviewers…*
Abomination: Thank you! For now, I'll certainly try to write quickly, but when classes start….
Alexa: Congrats on the license! I always like the little things also in stories and I do try to include as much of that as possible. Sea longing always breaks my heart when I read about it – if I was Aragorn, I'd run into a tree and close my ears (really I don't know what my problem is! I have to actually tell myself elves are not real so there's no need to get depressed about them leaving!)
Artemisa: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying it!
Dot: A minx am I?? Well.. ok I won't argue. I simply couldn't resist that ending. Yeah, Merionè's song was mine. I'm glad you liked it. : ) And you're right… Bratherond really isn't such a bad guy… He's just not that great with words…
Ecri: Hi! Thank you! I read an article somewhere about Legolas that actually put his age as young as 500-900 or so and part of it pointed out his playfulness in Helm's Deep. It was a lot of speculation of course, but I do tend to agree that Legolas was probably pretty young as far as elves go. At one point it mentioned how youthful Legolas' reactions were to all the sights on their journey and his curiosity when he wanted to turn back to Fangorn and Gandalf had to stop him. I think it also said how he may have represented the younger generation of elves that grew up during the fading of their race & the rise of men, an idea which I liked a lot…
Elfling: Thank you! I got your email and I do appreciate it! I think I would have just given up if my computer freaked. See! Legolas saved him! My little elf boy would not just sit and stare and scream.
Gwyn: Ah, see! You jumped ahead and assumed the worst... He's still here, ivory knife and all…
Jenny: Hehe, yes that did nearly give me a coronary. Thank you for the review!! And thank you for explaining what bo is – I think I would have been very confused (and perhaps even insulted! 'what you mean my story smells?!?!) otherwise ;)
LittleLoopy: He's only a little hurt! Well.. ok, so maybe more than a little. But he's an elf! I can beat him up pretty good and he'll still heal…
LOTRFaith: Hehe, actually I wouldn't say Bratherond borders on arrogance – I'd say it is arrogance. But he really isn't so bad…
Maranwe: That's allright, I mix up names all the time. The Silmarillion (which I loved, don't get me wrong) was something of a hell for me because I kept having to go back and look up all the different names that began with F. Feanor, Fingolfin, Finarfin, Fingod, Finrod… oy… Yes, unfortunately for the boys, things do get worse from now on. That's the one reviewer prediction I can confirm.
Mer: See! Not Dead! I agree, I think it would have been very hard on Legolas this early in the mission (and hard on me!).
Nightshade: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you liked it!
RainyDayz: See! He's ok! Well… He's not dead… ah, did you really think I could kill him off so soon (and I'm not saying I will…or won't…) But anyway, I like him a lot also – I couldn't boot him that easily.
Shaan Lien: I actually think I would like very much to keep writing for that entire period…don't think I will with this story though. Glad you're satisfied with the length of the chapters- I'm always afraid they might be too long, but I never know when to end!
Sirithiriel: Thank you! That's ok if you didn't review every chapter! I appreciate this one!
Tainted Fortune: Whoa! Another reviewer who did a review for every chapter in one day! Thank you! Wow! Yes, Cièdron is all mine – didn't plan on making him, but he sort of just kind of… developed. Whats with Merionè? Very good question. ;) My though you are anxious to see the axe drop on someone aren't you? Hehe, that's ok, I understand – I'm a fan of angst as well. Well, we'll see. Never know what's going to happen with those servants of Sauron and all. Oh and as for your elvish name… Well let's see…according to this site, it is…. *quickly checks the site* oh geez…. Lúthien… Yes, see, that is why I must advise against it in stories! I had a servant named Maglor before I read the Silmarillion and realized that really was not a name for a servant! Well anyway, it still can be kind of fun… the site is -
Thundera Tiger: Thank you once again! I actually did not write those comments by Bratherond and Gandalf intentionally (ah, I know, I should lie and claim I did, but I can't). But I'm so glad you pointed that out! I swear I sometimes feel the characters just write themselves. A long time ago, this was going to be just a Gandalf, Aragorn and Legolas fic, but then all these other guys came pounding on the door and crashed my story!
Viktoreja Rose: Oh my goodness! Eek… didn't expect that response ;) well hopefully you're a little less angry with me now…
WeasleyTwins: Ah, well he lived… I'm sorry if I disappointed you, but you never know what will happen – they haven't even made it to Dol Guldur yet!
