Legolas awoke to the sound of his own retching. He did not open his eyes, but turned to the ground. He was on all fours as he began to vomit loudly. He felt a hand on his back and another gently supporting him under his stomach. He opened his eyes, his forehead wrinkled in distress. He saw black grass, with orange light dancing upon it. All was dark. Tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped into the grass as they often did when he vomited. He spat and spat and spat.
Finally, he fell back. He meant to sit on the grass, but he found himself in someone's arms, pressed up against them. He looked up to see Aragorn. Relief washed over him, and the fact that anything was washing anywhere made him wanted to be sick again, but he knew there was nothing left in his stomach. He was embarrassed as the tracks of his tears shone in the firelight.
He noticed then that he was on the edge of a clearing, just near the beginning of the trees. Aragorn had set up camp next to the stream under the protection of the trees.
He didn't know what to say. He felt ridiculous; the events of the day previous to the retching were not coming to him.
"What were you thinking?" Aragorn finally asked.
Legolas didn't know what he meant exactly. The events were only slowly unfolding in his mind.
"You knew what they were." Aragorn continued.
"Knew what what were?"
"The scantalois. You ate scantalois. A whole lot of them, it would appear." Aragorn glanced over at the vomit. "That's not the first time you've vomited since I found you."
"I . . . .I . . . "
"Why did you do it? You know as well as I that those are not for eating. You know that they are poisonous. And despite the old wives tales we used to hear, they are just as deadly and toxic to elves as they are to men. Why?"
"I . . .I don't know. . ." Legolas said softly, without remorse.
Aragorn just stared at him.
"I don't believe I was right."
"It was you." Aragorn suddenly realized.
"What?"
"You were the one tromping around through the forest. I dismissed that it could be you. It was noisy and clumsy. I followed the noise until I found you." Aragorn paused and then looked back at Legolas. "Some evil has had you."
Legolas raised himself shakily from Aragorn's lap. He crawled in a wavy pattern towards the fire and the stream. He felt very weak and progress was slow. Aragorn found the scene too frustrating to watch. He stood and offered his hand to Legolas. Legolas intended to use Aragorn as a sort of crutch, but the human had other ideas. He picked Legolas up, and set him gently down in front of the stream. Legolas had wanted to protest but he was too tired to speak any more.
He crouched on the slant of the stream's bank and took a cupful of water with his hands and drank. His waist-length hair hung down on the dirt of the bank. Soon the effort of keeping his balance and moving his arms about was too much. He stopped and waited. Finally, Aragorn took the hint and moved back to the fire. Legolas lay right down on the ground and began drinking, his lips on the stream's smooth surface. When he was finally relieved, he sat back. He began to crawl up the bank again.
Aragorn set Legolas sitting against a large tree next to the fire. He wrapped him up in his bedroll. Legolas took it upon himself to remove his grass, mud, and vomit stained tunic. His tights remained and he curled up in his blankets once more. Aragorn sat on the other side of the fire and smoke his pipe. He stared at Legolas in deep thought.
"You're lucky you didn't die from the poison." Aragorn said after a long pause.
"Estel, I am aware of the consequences. I am not proud of this. In fact, I cannot remember when I last felt this shame. I'm sorry I have delayed the mission as well."
Aragorn waved his hand at him, dismissing these thoughts. "Get some rest, mellon nin."
Legolas woke to a cool, damp on his face. The late morning light was gray and unforgiving. He opened his eyes to the grass dulled by this light. His face contorted. His abdomen felt as though it had been bruised by a swift kick. He no longer felt sick, but sweaty and cold instead. The events of the night before slowly unfolded in his mind as he realized where he was. He could feel Aragorn's eyes on him, and though he felt scrutinized by his gaze, he ignored them.
Somewhat impulsively, he stood. The blanket of his bedroll fell to the ground. A shiver ran through him as his skin covered in goosebumps. He stood in naught but his pants. He hadn't realized how sick he was still. He swayed, lost his balance and almost collapsed. A hand on his chest pressed him up against the tree behind him to keep him from falling.
"Be careful, mellon nin." Aragorn said without emotion.
Legolas had crushed his eyelids together as he had begun to fall helplessly. He now slowly looked up at Aragorn from under his eyelashes.
"Estel. . . I . . . I can't . . ."He felt angry at himself as Aragorn was forced to take him in his arms to hold him up. "I . . . I need to . . . relieve myself."
Aragorn nodded in agreement. He pulled Legolas' arm over his shoulder and led him away from the camp to a nearby tree. "If you hold on to these branches, can you take care of yourself?" Aragorn was quiet as he offered the gift of privacy.
"Yes." Legolas mouthed silently.
Aragorn left Legolas. Instead of returning to camp, he wanted to survey the area Legolas had fallen to the mushrooms in the daylight. But he could not leave Legolas hanging on the tree that long. He rustled through his pack until he found the trinimbilis leaves. He put them into the fist-sized pot that was already boiling the creek water in the fire. The tea would help steady the elf.
Aragorn glanced over at Legolas hanging on the tree. He briefly wondered what a passer-by would make of the scene. He could tell that the prince was finished, but too embarrassed to call for him. Aragorn felt somewhere in between exasperated and insulted. He brought the half-naked elf over to the camp. He sat him down near the fire and covered his shoulders in his blankets. Out of his pack, Aragorn found a ratty blue wool undershirt he had been using to wrap various supplies in. He tossed it over to Legolas. Legolas folded it out of its tightly wound ball and pulled it on. It was tight, long-sleeved and very warm. However, it was also full of holes and the neck had been ripped wide so that the collarbone and shoulders were exposed.
"Thank you, Estel." Legolas looked down and fiddled with the tattered strands of the shirt. "We should leave right away." He said, quickly. He began to rise as though to leave.
"Not until you've rested and had this tea." Aragorn managed to grab his hand and pull him down to a sitting position. To convince, Aragorn hurriedly filled a metal mug with the trinimbilis tea he had made. Legolas said nothing but held the tea and regarded it with concern etched on his brow.
"We can-not stay here." Legolas' quiet voice broke. Aragorn suddenly realized how serious his friend's concern was. "It's not safe." He whispered urgently after a long pause.
"What is it? What makes you say that?" Aragorn pulled himself around so that he was closer to Legolas.
The Mirkwood Prince's eyes were wide and glossy and darted around. Aragorn was starting to detect a supreme fear in the elf.
"A presence approaches. I can feel it . . . But, Aragorn . . ." Legolas's head dropped, his hair slid off his shoulders, and shielded his face.
For one horrific moment, the ranger feared he was crying, but when his voice came it was even and bitter. " I cannot see. . . I cannot hear. . . I am blind and deaf, and the trees are silent to me."
Aragorn pulled back in alarm. "But surely, you are not . . . Only compared to elven standards. You are not blind blind, or deaf deaf. "
"Agreed. Indeed, Estel, I can hear and see you. But not the way I do."
"How about that tree over there?" Aragorn pointed to a tree on the opposite side of the clearing that any man could see clear as day. He was merely making the point that Legolas was only blind in comparison to an elf.
But Legolas squinted. Aragorn's stomach filled with a dread as he listened to the elf's words.
"It is foggy and out of focus."
The ranger's mouth was agape. "And the birds? Surely you can hear those birds."
Legolas listened. "I hear no birds."
Legolas and Aragorn stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Aragorn said, "We must get you to my father. Perhaps he knows a cure to get this poison out of your system."
Legolas nodded. Finally, some action.
Aragorn quickly packed camp and used his small pot to put out the fire, while Legolas quickly gulped down the cup of tea.
"We should make haste. Let us trouble ourselves no more over Brollas. He will find his way back to Rivendell, I am sure."
The progress of the travellers was slow and stunted. Aragorn had to restrain himself from his usual efficient ground-covering pace for Legolas' sake, who looked like he might, at any moment, fall down asleep. They made their way west, towards Rivendell, and yet this mysterious forest seemed never-ending. Legolas stayed unusually close to Aragorn, and was constantly looking every which direction around them. His were eyes wide open at all times, desperate to take in all that they could.
As night approached, the elf suggested that they continue on as long as possible. To Aragorn, this was a favourable decision that would get them to Rivendell all the sooner. But he was concerned about Greenleaf. He had looked tired all day, but as they trudged on, he seemed neither better nor worse. Weighing these matters, Aragorn had not yet decided either way.
He continued to ponder this until dusk when they arrived in an area that was sparsely treed. The trees that were there were tall and thin and seemed dead. The crunchiness of the ground and the nature of the dead grass revealed that very long ago this had been a swamp. It had since dried up and trees had grown in it. But the trees too had found it too difficult to live here and dried up because of the salt deposits in the soil.
Legolas was imagining this very history of the old marsh when he suddenly felt himself pulled down into the grass. Aragorn had narrowly saved them both from the path of a arrow that zinged into the tree behind them. Desperate to latch onto the one skill that was still his, Legolas crawled through the tall grass to the tree with the arrow in it.
"Load your bow!" Aragorn hissed.
"Why?" Legolas asked, while quickly nabbing the arrow out of the tree. "It's not like I could see to hit anything anyways." Legolas took the arrow in his lap and began analyzing the point for identification.
Aragorn finally began to understand the full ramifications of his friend's stunted ability. Aragorn barely dodged another arrow, rolling through the grass, clenching his jaw in bewilderment and frustration. Sword ready, he studied the direction the arrow had come from.
Legolas' eyesight was fading by the minute and he could no longer focus even on the object he now held in front of him.
Though Legolas was now too deaf to hear it, a roar startled the ranger and before he could turn to address it, Aragorn was barrelled over by two orcs. They began to duel. Legolas was oblivious to this, having neither seen nor heard it. He was feeling the metal point of the arrow gently when a hand went under his throat and lifted him to his feet. Choking, Legolas whipped the arm away from him with his own arms. Quick as a whip, Legolas had a loaded bow pointed at his blurry attacker.
"You seem to enjoy my music. Shall I give you some more?" The attacker's deep voice inquired.
TBC