A/N: These are not really in any particular chronological order. Also just a warning for some strong language in this one. Poor Halbarad was having A Day.


When Halbarad Needed Him

The North Kingdom, summer, Third Age 2981

Unsurprisingly, Aragorn notices almost as soon as I do, and it is my ribcage the thing has thwapped into. Feels like getting kicked by a freaking horse.

"Elrohir!" the Chieftain bellows, as he shoves me back and the Rangers spill in to fill the gap I leave behind.

"Sit down and wait for him," Aragorn snaps, and on goes the advancement without me. Any other time I might have exercised a bit of necessary insubordination and stuck it out where I belonged there at his flank, but all of a sudden I can't seem to suck enough air to make myself do it. Sitting sounds good.

I don't have to wait long, those Elves have fobbing good hearing, and Elrohir better than most. I hear him before I see him and fuck me if I'm not glad about it. It's getting awfully hard to breathe.

"Hey, hey, hey, pal…"

I've slumped sideways and not realized until he heaves me up again by the shoulder straps and now I see him, crouched in front of me, his own pack in the dirt.

"Sit up, buddy, don't go over on me yet, you don't want to fall on this thing and knock it in further."

"Can't breathe."

"I know, I can hear it. Hang on…"

He disappears behind me and the arrow grabs me again before I know what he's doing but then he's lifting off my vest and—

"Don't cut it… off… dammit…" It's the only shirt I've got left…

"Shut your mouth a minute, Hal."

He cuts it off. Freaking medics. At least he lets me keel over then because I am tired of sitting up. Can't breathe can't breathe…

I don't know what he's doing for a minute and can't see but it hurts like hell and then he says, alarmingly, "This is really going to suck, bud, brace yourself."

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. "Fuck!"

"I know, I know it, I'm sorry. No, be still, you gotta keep your hands off, Halbarad, you have to leave that there. Grab mine a minute. Try to break my fingers."

That would be stupid. But I do it.

"You've got a grip like a girl, Hal."

"Fuck you."

"Nah. Keep your arm up, good boy, don't… good. Breathing any easier?"

Now that he mentions it. Enough to gasp out, "Morphine?"

"Yep, sit tight..."

He's quick. The jab on the outside of my leg a sweet, blessed sting. In a few minutes I feel almost like I should, even as he stays busy there at my back with tape and packing.

"Thanks, doc. Now let's go, we're too far behind."

He presses me back down into the dirt. "Sorry, pal. You're not going anywhere but back to Elladan. That arrowhead is still in there and you're only breathing better because I knocked a great big hole in your chest."

"You didn't take the fucker out?!"

I can tell he's grinning grimly when he says, "You don't want me to take it out here, believe me. Sit tight a minute, I'm going to get a line going."

He's quick about that, too. Whatever he puts in the IV burns like a son of a bitch. It ain't more morphine, that's for damn sure.

"You're a fucking sadist, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know. Leave it alone, you big baby, I don't want to stick you again. Didn't anyone tell you we're supposed to shoot them?"