CH9 – The Mud Crawler
As the group left the Inn and made way into the Mirkwood trees once more, Arryin, with squinted eyes, rode her raven-colored horse next to Legolas. Her head pounded like hooves hitting the ground and her stomach jumped with queasiness. Not to mention, her entire body ached, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up upon the soft mattresses of Mirkwood. To add to this terrible shittiness, her stitches were itchy. Every time she moved, her skin would rub against it. She tried to resist the urge to scratch but wasn't always successful. To say the least, the day was not off to a pleasant start.
And to make matters worse, she could feel Legolas's amusement prickling at her skin. That Princeling was way to smug about this.
Arryin grumbled under her breath as her thoughts strayed to the infuriating elf beside her.
What an asshole.
Her groan seemed to attract unwanted attention, for at that moment she could sense the sector leader's gaze focus on her...again.
She huffed and rolled her eyes while turning to face him. "What?" She snapped.
Legolas shook his head as he felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards. "Nothing."
The Ranger narrowed her eyes at him. "There is obviously something on your mind."
He chuckled, "You just are very...amusing...when you are drunk."
The dark haired she-elf snorted, "Oh really, then care to tell me what I did that was so amusing?"
Legolas chuckled again, "I feel that perhaps the question you should be asking is: what didn't you do."
Arryin glared at him which only seemed to further his disgusting cheerfulness. "Legolas," she began in a threading tone, "Tell me or I will punch you."
Legolas smirked at her for he knew she was not in a state where she would do anything physical besides steer her steed. The elf, wanting to irritate her further, pulled the reigns of his own horse and scurried further ahead of Arryin.
She did not follow.
...
Night soon came and the 13th sector, hungover and exhausted, gratefully began to settled down. Scouts were assigned to examine the surrounding area and the less hungover guards took the first shift of nights watch.
Luckily, Arryin and Beyla were not among those with an assignment for the evening. The two elleths rested upon their bed rolls gazing up at the stars, lost in nature's embrace. The Ranger was the first to interrupt the silence.
"Mellon (friend), may I ask you a question?"
Beyla nodded and turned to look at Arryin, "Of course."
Arryin sighed, "The stupid Princeling will hold last night over my head forever. Tell me what happened."
Beyla let out a giggle at the disgruntled desperation in Arryin's voice. "Well, I am unsure of all the events because he carried you off to a room. The stairs appeared to be a big challenge for you."
The Ranger's mouth fell open and her eyes filled with dread. "What?!" She hissed.
Beyla bit her bottom lip, "You also fell off a table. You were lucky he was there to catch you otherwise—"
Arryin groaned, "Please tell me that is all."
The blonde elleth smiled weakly as she continued, "Well...um...his muscular arms might have been mentioned."
Arryin shook her head, "I am never going to hear the end of it."
A light laugh sounded from Beyla's lips and Arryin joined her, for the situation was entirely amusing and no one could deny that.
When the giggling settled down, the Ranger spoke again, "Man, I haven't been that drunk since I fought with the Men of Númenor nearly a century ago—"
Beyla interrupted her with a peaked interest, "You fought alongside the Men of Númenor?!"
Arryin snorted, "No, no. I fought with them—in a bar fight."
Beyla could not help but let a howling laugh slip past her lips, "Did you win?!"
Arryin's scoffed, "Of course I did! I also managed to get banned from the entire human city in the process, but it was worth it."
The two erupted in roaring laughter once again.
Legolas overheard this conversation between the two she-elves and he couldn't help but smirk. Arryin, as much of a pain in the ass as she was, did indeed bring forth a new kind of atmosphere into the sector. Yes she could be incredibly harsh and difficult to work with, but her quick wit and snarky attitude kept them on their toes. Besides, Legolas enjoyed poking at her, for she had quite entertaining reactions.
...
As the night continued on, the Mirkwood Prince was eager to lay down and get some rest. He was nearly asleep when he was startled by a faint whimper. Legolas immediately turned his head in the direction of the sound and was surprised to see that it came from the Ranger.
Arryin was laying on her back with her head turned towards him. Her fists were balled tightly, one of them holding the grasp of a blade, and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her chest rose and fell quickly as her brows furrowed. She was coated in a cold sweat with loose hair pressed against her cheek. There was no doubt that she was in some form of distress.
Legolas's eyebrows pulled together in concern as she let out yet another small whimper.
"No," she muttered. "No, don't—negr- hain! Im beg -o cin! Cin vil regalta hi!"
Legolas's frown deepened for the language was elven but it was a dialect he didn't recognize or understand.
As concern encased his heart, the sector leader reached out to touch her arm. However, when he made contact with her skin, he instantly pulled his hand away. She was hot to the touch—heavy heat seemed to be radiating off of her. Why was she burning up? Elves could not get sick. His lips parted in despondency when he realized just what was going on. She was having a nightmare. Very rare for an elf, but possible. However, this level of heat was downright unnatural. He had never seen anything like it.
Legolas quickly stood up, but only for Belanor's head to snap in his direction as he sensed movement. The sector leader gently raised his hand to tell Belanor not to worry and the elf on watch responded with a short nodded.
The Mirkwood Prince made his was down a small cliff to the river that ran close to their camp sight—still in Belanor's view. He knelt down on the bank and emerged the cloth he had brought into the cold water. The fabric quickly absorbed the liquid and he did not waste any time, for her wrung it out and jogged back to the campsite.
Legolas knelt down next to Arryin and placed his palm against her forehead. She was still burning up and her muttering of elvish words did not stop. Quite frankly, he was surprised that the other elves did not wake, but then again hangovers truly could be a bitch.
The Prince gently dabbed the cold cloth onto her brow and smoothed back her dark locks. He continued to do so while whispering soft words to her, "Shhh Dilthen Er (little one), you are safe."
Belanor, of course, observed this interaction for how could he not?! It was quite sweet and endearing. He would be lying if he said it didn't warmed his heart. Elves, for the most part, were very skilled at picking up on emotions between others. And one thing was for sure, when elves loved, they loved with all passions. To Belanor, it seemed that Legolas cared deeply for the elven ranger. However, he knew that it would take ages for Legolas to realize it himself given that the Prince's mind was always occupied by a thousand different things. But Arryin—Arryin didn't seem to understand what love was. She fought it and often refused kindness. Belanor could see that Arryin had been alone for most her her life—no one to support her but herself. Legolas had been trying to show her that the sector is a family, but alas, that is a long process and not one that could be rushed.
...
The following morning, Rowan and Belanor were some of the first members of the 13th sector awake. Belanor had been on the last watch shift with three others, so he had stayed up all night. Rowan, on the other hand was—surprisingly—an early riser.
As the amber haired elf walked towards his friend, he frowned for a smirk was plastered across Belanor's face. "What is it Mellon (friend)? Do I have leaves in my hair?"
Belanor chucked and shook his head. He then nodded in the direction of Arryin and Legolas, "Look."
Rowan turned to observe the scene that made his fellow warrior so amused, and he as well couldn't resist grinning. Arryin was sleeping on her side and Legolas was spooning her. The Prince's face was buried in her black locks and his chest was pressed firmly against her back. His arm was gently draped over her waist, pulling her form close.
It was then when Beyla began to stir. She woke from her rest and stood. She, of course, did not fail to noticed the scene next to her. Biting back a giggle, she lightly pranced over to her two elven friends.
"Don't they have an adorable bond?" She whispered.
Rowan frowned, "They fight all the time."
"Physically and verbally," Belanor added.
Beyla rolled her eyes at the boys' jokes, for she knew they agreed. She pushed past them and began to tend to the dwindling fire for when all twenty elves woke they surely would be grumping for food.
Soon enough, the group of warriors that were not unconscious heard a groan from the direction of the sleeping elves. Without even looking, they immediately knew it was the ranger for no one else grumbled and moaned as much as her.
They all shifted their attention given that each one was curious to see how she would react to Legolas's cuddles. They watched as she sat upright. A frown crossed her expression as the weight of Legolas's arm registered in her mind. She snorted, picked up his arm, and flung it at his body—all while muttering a string of highly offensive curse words. Although, her ruckus didn't end there. Arryin continued to mutter under her breath. "Legolas..." She groaned in annoyance and then 'corrected' herself, "...Athuum (mud crawler), learn to sleep in your own space." Another string of profanities followed suit.
Legolas, in turn, woke up to her racket, but he didn't acknowledge her lack of graceful words—or insults. Instead, he went about his morning routine as normal—rolling up his bed roll, folding away his cloak, etc.
Arryin, on the other hand, stomped towards her friends and sat on a log in silence while waiting for the stew.
Beyla tilted her head as she examined her friend's expression. She came to the conclusion that Arryin didn't exactly understand the intimacy of how close her and Legolas had slept and why it was supposed to be embarrassing. It seemed the Ranger just thought of it as something much simpler: Legolas being annoying.
Belanor and Rowan were trying to hide their smirks as their sector leader approached, but they failed miserably. Legolas, of course, noticed. "Why are you two so amused?"
Rowan shook his head, "It is nothing, Mellon (friend)."
