Another chapter. Hehe.
Sorry if the Elvish is off, I'll make sure to put translations at the bottom. Thank you all in advance for reading, favoriting, and reviewing! Enjoy!
-WingedIceWolf
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!
Not many people were within the washing area. Most had left to gather for eating, talking within the halls and laughing, so Legolas was on his own. He set his clothing to dry upon a rack beside the fireplace, then stepped into the halls, trying to keep himself upright and steady. Any movement could give away his injury and that's something he wished to keep to himself.
Few turned their heads to see him. Most continued their talking, eating, and laughing, but he did catch conversations discussing him and Aragorn. It made him want to bash the skulls of anyone who spoke of his companion's downfall. He had heard enough of it!
Legolas had easily spotted Èowyn sitting at a table, talking quietly to Gimli and Théoden. The young y stopped speaking once Legolas approached them and sat at the table beside Gimli. Èowyn quickly stood.
"Would you like me to get you a bowl of stew, my lord?" she asked, bowing slightly. Legolas tried to wave her aside, but she turned to fetch him food, as she had said. The Mirkwood Prince sighed heavily.
"How are you, you pointy eared elf?" Gimli asked, elbowing Legolas in the ribs slightly, laughing. The Elf grimaced in pain, stifling a cry. The Dwarf's face immediately became worrisome, scooting away from Legolas.
"I'm fine," Legolas hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet and unwavering, though Gimli could obviously tell Legolas's statement was not the case. He gingerly reached out to touch the Elf Prince's side, but Legolas quickly pulled away.
"You're hurt, aren't you, lad?" Gimli asked quietly, concern evident in his voice. Legolas looked away, grateful that the chatting of the others within the room was hiding their conversation. The dwarf took the Elf's wrist, attempting to force Legolas to look at him. "Look at me you stubborn Elf!"
Legolas only grimaced more at the Dwarf's attempt to pull him back. That was enough conformation for Gimli to know that he was indeed hurt. His skin was cold and his grimaces, though hidden, were there to see.
Théoden turned to look at the two. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong," Gimli stated. He leaned over and whispered. "Just grieving…Poor lad needs to be left be." Théoden nodded in understanding, not wishing to push the situation further. He had probably only worsened the situation with his earlier demand; "Leave the dead".
Legolas would have smiled slightly if he wasn't in so much pain. Gimli knew what was truly wrong with him, and he was covering for him. The Dwarf turned to look at Legolas who was still slightly grimacing, his face pale, but he still mouthed "Thank you."
Èowyn returned with a bowl of stew, setting it before Legolas. He ate slowly, Gimli watching him like a hawk. He tried to not show any signs of his pain, but once he realized that he could bleed through the bandages, he picked up his eating pace.
The stew was delicious, and he would gladly want more, but he needed to tend to the wound. He could feel the bandages sticking to his skin, his every breath was worsening, and the pain was steadily growing, but he stood, thanked them, and left without another word. Gimli stood himself and followed Legolas.
"Let me tend to you," Gimli demanded as Legolas started back up the stairs, to his temporary room. The Elf sighed heavily. He finally turned to him, leading him into the room. As soon as Gimli stepped into the room, Legolas slammed it shut, walking over to the bed and plopping down upon it.
"Alright, let me see."
"What if I said no?"
"Is that what Aragorn would want, elf? For you to bleed out because you are far too grieved to tend to yourself?"
Legolas went quiet, then replied, his voice cracking. "No…"
"Then please. Let me take care of you, for him," Gimli pleaded. Legolas took a deep breath and nodded slightly, tears streaming down his face. The Dwarf sat upon the edge of the bed and let out a heavy sigh. "How bad is it?"
"I-It's deep," Legolas replied unsteadily.
"Would you be able to ride out?" Gimli asked. Legolas paused, hesitant to reply.
"W-what…?"
"You heard me, lad. Would you be able to ride?" Gimli answered.
"I don't know…" Legolas began. "It hurts…Everything hurts…"
"Of course it hurts. Haven't you ever had a wound before?" Gimli asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't believe this Elf. Sure, he was in a lot of pain, but shouldn't he at least expect pain from a wound? Any wound?
Legolas nodded slightly. "Just scrapes, cuts, and burns…Nothing major…"
Gimli sighed. "I see. Let me see the bloody thing, Elf!"
Legolas groaned in both frustration and pain, unbuttoning the top of the blue long-sleeved shirt he had taken, carefully pulling it over his head. Gimli's eyes quickly found the bloodied bandages at his hip, eyebrows coming together in worry.
"You've lost a lot of blood, lad. Perhaps we should have someone else search for-" Gimli started.
"No!" Legolas shouted, sitting up quickly. That was a terrible mistake, agony shot through his side, causing him to let out a scream into his hands, though it was hardly muffled.
"You'll bleed to death before we find Aragorn," Gimli said gently. "Let me tend to it…At least get you some new bandages. I'll sew it if I have to and keep you pinned to do it!"
Legolas was unhindered by the Dwarf's threat. If Aragorn was alive, Aragorn could tend to him…If he wasn't, the wound could kill him for all he cared. Gimli stood up, though he was obviously smaller than the elf even when standing. "You better stay here, you danged Elf. I'll get the necessities."
"A blight on the stiff necks of dwarves," Legolas muttered.
"A blight on the stiff necks of Elves!" Gimli called back. "I'll knock three times in a row, so you know it's me."
The Mirkwood Prince watched as Gimli left the room, then he carefully undid the bandaging, trembling. He felt that at any moment, he could collapse and give in to death, but something kept him upright. Something kept him going…
He could almost see the concern in Aragorn's face when he was to see the wound upon Legolas's hip. He could easily picture the Ranger's wide eyes, concern in his face, reaching out to touch the wound. He could imagine Aragorn gently asking why he had not tended to the wound, why he had allowed it to get to this state…
It was either life or death, and Legolas wanted only life if Aragorn were truly alive…Not even his father could stop him from accepting death. He had no one else to live for. Not a lover, not a sibling, not an uncle, not a mother…
The Mirkwood Prince's eyes felt heavy. He wanted to close them, rest them for just a bit, and as he slowly allowed them to do so, there was a knock at his door. Three, actually. He took that as Gimli's knock and struggled, standing and opening the door. The dwarf stepped inside, carrying medical supplies and Legolas's now dried clothing.
Gimli's eyes widened upon seeing the wound, gushing blood with Legolas's arm clasped over it. "Sit down, you elf! Before you collapse!" he demanded. Legolas did as asked without hesitation, sitting painfully upon the bed in a crisscross pattern, though it did cause more pain to flare in his side, that was his usual sitting position. Unless he were sitting at a table.
"What've you done to yourself, lad?" Gimli asked, shaking his head in disdain. He set the clothing to the side and took out the medical kit, popping it open. "Move your arm so I can see."
Again, Legolas did as asked without hesitation. He had little strength to be able to fight Gimli back, even if he wanted to. He was sure all the dwarf would have to do would be sit on him and he'd be unable to move, despite how hard he would thrash.
The Dwarf's eyes examined the wound carefully, taking a cloth and pressing it against it. Legolas hissed in pain, wanting to lash out at the dwarf almost instinctively from the agony he felt shoot through him, but he had to remind himself that Gimli was just trying to help.
"You weren't lying when you said it was deep," Gimli remarked. The wound was even more inflamed than it had been before thanks to Legolas fighting Gimli back. He shook his head. Why were elves always so unwilling to seek out aid?
"I was hoping it would kill me," Legolas admitted, his voice quiet. His eyes began to fall shut, but a slight tap to his face from the dwarf snapped him back into reality. Gimli rummaged through the medical supplies. Unfortunately, there was a needle, but no thread.
"Oh for Mahal's sake," Gimli muttered. He didn't wish to go back down to ask for a thread, seeing as he took the medical kit without asking for permission first, but it was either sew it, or bandage it quickly and ride out to find Aragorn.
"Just bandage it…" Legolas begged.
"You can die, Elf!" Gimli snapped, genuinely concerned.
"Please," Legolas pleaded.
Gimli hesitated, but the more they sat here and wasted time, the more time was lost in searching for Aragorn. He sighed, but took the Elf's request.
After cleaning the blood to the best of his ability, he gathered a numbing salve, spreading it across the wound. Legolas screamed at the sudden pain he felt, as if fire were being held to his side and his skin were bubbling under the flames. He was surprised to find he even kept consciousness, but Gimli started to carefully wrap the wound, bringing the two sides together with the bandaging, tying it off after wrapping the bandaging around Legolas's shoulder and torso. He stood back to make sure he did a fair enough job then nodded to himself.
"Rest while you still can, you'll be needing all the strength you can get," Gimli stated. Legolas finally allowed his eyelids to fall close, slipping into unconsciousness. It was so comforting, the darkness he felt himself enter. He could just stray into it and never come back…
And there's the end of this chapter. I promise you there is plenty more to come, my lovelies. Hehe! Again, thank my amazing collaborator!
-WingedIceWolf