Discovery

Legolas POV

The early dawn shone pale and fair. All clouds from the storm had dissipated and the sky was blue as violets. This did not set off the carnage left from the battle, although it did lift spirits. Soldiers were set to burning the enemy bodies on a cairn of fire, near where the great explosion had taken place. No honoured burial for them. I walked to where Gimli sat smoking, helmet gone and linen bandage around his head stained with blood. But his voice was still strong and loud.

He turned around and saw me walking towards him. "Forty two master Legolas!" He cried. "Although, alas!, my axe is notched: The forty second had an iron collar around his neck." I nodded carefully, fingering my bow. "That is not bad. I myself:- sit on forty two. But I do not hold you any grudge, I am so glad to see you on your legs!" I gave a small smile. Gimli had gotten separated from Aragorn during the battle, and I had no account on what happened to him until I heard the great horn of Helm ring out. Gimli grunted. "Forty two you say. That's not bad for a pointy eared elvish princeling. I smirked, rolling my eyes. Speedily, I plucked an arrow off the ground and shot it into a twitching orc Gimli was sitting on. "Forty three." Gimli grunted. "He was already dead."

"He was twitching."

"He was twitching because I had my axe embedded in his nervous system!" He said rising to a shout. He pulled his axe out of its neck as proof.

"Have you seen Darke anywhere?" I asked, spotting a black feather on the ground to change the topic. "No lad." Gimli replied. "I haven't seen her since the explosion. I think she got hit by something, but she'll be around here somewhere. Made of tough stuff that bird person." Gimli was never really able to think of Darke as a proper 'lady.' She was too tough, too manly to be called that. Eru's breeches, most people thought she was a man half the time anyway. I'm not sure why: to me it was quite obvious she was a women. She was too slender to be a man, even for an elf. And although they were gloved, her hands were delicate. Also, just one glance at her face un-hooded made it obvious that she was female. Pity she always had it up.

I broke my train of thought, and watched the feather scuttle away in the breeze. Gimli followed my eyes, looking where I was. "That does look a lot like one of her feathers, doesn't it?" Gimli exclaimed. "It must have fallen out in the battle." Gimli was correct. The feather was a matte charcoal, about 20 to 30 centimeter's long. It certainly didn't come from any of the crebian, which had now flown away all remainders of the orc hoard.

The breeze blew again, the feather now scuttling behind a boulder, debris from the explosion. I took a step, to go pick it up. What I saw next made me freeze, and haunted my nightmares for the rest of my life.

When I turned the corner I saw a black bloodied shape, half covered in fallen stone. I went to it, thinking it was a fallen Wildman to drag onto the fire. Then I saw the face, and the breath left me.

It was Darke, spread eagled half covered in rubble. A large cut was on her temple covering her face in blood, with her eye ribbon ajar. The lower part of her left trouser leg was gone, exposing burns. A huge pile of rubble lay over her right leg and lower stomach. There was a small rent at the front of her shirt and tunic, with a small amount of blood seeping out, and her right shoulder looked dislocated. Her wings were in full view to everyone, spread out at awkward angles, the right one covered in rubble as well. Worst of all, an orc arrow was stuck in her, blood pooling out of a laceration in her side. She was hardly breathing. Yet she looked peaceful- and helpless. Gimli rounded the corner, saw her, and ran off calling for Aragorn. I began to pull the rubble off, not heeding the stares of those who walked by.


Darke's POV

I was faintly aware of the sensation of being moved. My body twinged at every movement. Yet I ignored it. I was peaceful, enveloped in the warm embrace of slumber. Or was it death? If this was death, I wanted it. There were coarse sheets beneath my fingers and feet, but they felt soft. Somebody had removed my shoes and gloves, I realised. But I could dwell on that later. At the moment, I could stay like this forever, warm, safe, comfortable, happy.

That shook me out of my daze a little. I wasn't happy. Something was missing. Company. I missed my friends, Tom, Gwaihir, Elrond, Gandalf, Treebeard, the hobbits, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas… No. They weren't here, but they were near here, at the edge of my consciousness. If I could just wake up, reach them… Or I could relax and enjoy the eternal comfort. Hadn't my life been torture enough already? Did I not deserve a moment of bliss? Apparently not. The voices of my friends filled my mind, not letting me get any peace. "Darke" they all said "Come back.." I thrashed, another wave of pain washing through me. "Kran ard"(F*ck off) I groaned. "Zhek leypa"(go away). But still they kept on talking. "We need you," Gandalf said, "Come back," Aragorn murmured, "Stay with me," Legolas mumbled, "Help them," Elrond commanded.

At this, I remembered. The ring. The ring still hadn't been destroyed, and we needed to kill as many servants of Sauron as possible. Otherwise Frodo and Sam would never make it to Mordor, and it would be the reign of Morgoth the second. Morgoth. Fear washed through me as much as when I was 5, crying, screaming, kicking, biting as the sickness took over me. I thought I would die then, but I survived. If I could survive a sickness that killed thousands when I was just five, surly I could survive a few lacerations at over five thousand.

I focused on the sheet beneath my fingers, the shallow breaths in my lungs, my fluttering heartbeat. I focused on the voices, "We need you, come back, help them, stay with me." Repeated over and over again. "LEM OK(WAKE UP)" I screamed at myself. "NOL(LIVE)!" My heartbeat grew fainter, my breaths more laboured as I fought through the barrier of comfort and warmth to the world of the living. I was expending too much energy, but it was worth it.

Gasping, then rivers of pain down my side. Tears sprung to my eyes. "She's awake!" A gravelly voice exclaimed, but quietly. Cold air hit me, along with a whirl of noise. Breathing, heartbeats, footfalls, echoes. I winced at the sudden noise. I felt my wings extended to either side of me. A sheet lay over me, protecting me a little from a sensory overload. My throat was dry and dusty. I coughed, more pain coursing through me and causing momentary tears.

"Darke," a voice said to me. Kindly, old, with power. Gandalf, I recognized. If I hadn't been so disorientated and sore, I would have scolded myself for being so slow. "Can you hear me?" Gandalf asked. My voice was slurred and higher than usual. "Yesh?" Talking was painful.

"Relax. You are seriously injured. You have minor cuts to the back and head, and your sternum was broken. You are lucky your heart was not pierced."

I gave a slight nod, trying to avoid more pain.

"Your leg is also burnt, and your shoulder is dislocated. Some of your wing bones may be broken or dislocated, we are not sure which."

I gave another nod, more acknowledging Gandalfs voice than listening. I already knew there was something seriously wrong with me.

"You also have a goblin arrow embedded in your side. It is not poisoned, but it did pierce you lung. Only Legolas's quick thinking and Aragorns emergency athelas saved you."

I gave another small nod. "Oh." I slurred. " 'anks." So that was what the excruciating pain in my side was.

Aragorn began to speak now in his calm voice. "Do not talk. You are finding it difficult enough to breathe, and your heart is fading." I nodded. Nothing I didn't already know. "The arrow in your side is barbed." Aragorn continued to explain, as I felt my face go white in fear. "We had to wait for you to wake up, because we have to push it through the other side." I gulped. This was going to hurt. "We are going move you to the floor, because it will be easier to take it out there. I will also put your shoulder back in place." I nodded again, and grit my teeth. This was going to be very painful.

I felt Aragorn grab my arms and Gimli grab my feet. Gandalf and Legolas gently held my middle, trying to move it as little as possible. It only took seconds to get me onto the cold floor, and every second of it I winced. Somebody knelt and lay my head in their lap holding it still- Legolas I think. Somebody else held down my legs-probably Gimli.

I sensed Aragorn kneel beside me, rustling through a bag. "Forgive me," He said, "But this is going to be painful. We don't have any numbing draught." I nodded. He pulled my shirt up, attempting to keep my modesty, by not pulling it over my chest. Despite the situation, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He put something leather between my teeth. I bit on it hard. Then he began to push the arrow through.

After being tortured by Sauron, living in Morgoths lair my early life, and having wings implanted into my back I should probably have a high pain threshold. Let it be known though, that I am blind. And blind people tend to have heightened senses. In my case, my senses are very heightened, considering I can tell the rough colour of things by the amount of heat they hold. If I touch them that is, but that is off topic. The point is, some people can push pain to the back of their minds and only feel minor discomfort, but I cannot. I felt every wave of agony course through me. And I hate to be girly, screaming at every single scratch, but that's what I did. However, I am a women, no matter how many people think I'm a guy. These are the only excuses I have for my behaviour, I am sorry.

I screamed. I bit down on the leather until it probably broke, but I screamed and yelled and cursed. At the beginning there was a lot of swearing as well. "Kranos de durith thranos tano sinras onras!.." (to rude to translate) I mumble/screamed into the leather at the beginning. But through the waves of agony, my hearing turned to nothing but blank noise. My smell and taste cut off completely. A soft calloused hand found its way into mine, and I squeezed it until my knuckles popped. Despite my loss of hearing, I could still tell I was yelling and screaming, because my side and chest burned worse than fire, and froze worse than Caradhra's. I thrashed around, inflaming myself more and unable to stop myself. But the last reserves of energy I had kept from the battle with myself faded, and I fell unconscious, tears soaking the material around my eyes.

There was only faint discomfort once I had gone to sleep. At one point the pain subsided, my side finished. Gandalf chanted something, and with a prickle I felt my shoulder go to its rightful place. My wing bones prickled and popped as well. They must have been dislocated, not broken. There was the twinge as I was lifted from my now comfortable position on the floor, and transitioned back to the bed. Nothing more happened after that.


I awoke to warmth and the feeling of soft, rough sheets in the same room. This was the first time, I had ever slept in a bed, I realised. Meh. I was aware of a person sitting next to me. The heart pulse went dun, dun, dundun. Probably a women then, judging by the double note. Men tended to have triples, but there were always exceptions.

"Where am I" I asked, surprised to find my voice no longer slurred. Somebody had rehydrated me. A good thing too, judging the amount I had sweated in that battle. I would really need to wash my clothes. I shuffled a bit. My wings seemed to have been put underneath me, covered in a sheet, also under me. Good, the stranger wouldn't know of them.

"You are in the keep. You have been sleeping for the last three hours, and you were wounded in battle. I've patched up your head, chest and your leg. You'll probably be left with a little limp deary, but don't worry. Those gentlemen of yours will look after you." After a moment of confusion about the 'gentlemen' bit, I concluded she meant Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. "Thank-you," I told her. "Could you tell me where Aragorn is?" I concluded he would be the one she would know the most about.

As it turned out, I was correct. "He's going to a meeting with Theoden King in about an hour," the lady healer said cheerfully. "He's probably just left now."

"Thank-you," I told her again. "And thank-you for healing me."

She bounced off her chair and stood up. Considering the way the chair creaked as she got up, she was quite ample. "No problem deary," she replied. "We women have got to stick together. A battlefield is no place for us. Next time leave that charmer of a husband behind."

I was tempted to roll my eyes, when I realised my eye strip had been taken off. Next I was confused. "What husband?" I asked her. "Oh, so your not married to the other elf outside. Sorry, I just assumed it, considering your both elves, and you followed him into battle." I was sorely tempted to point out how wrong she was, and possibly hit her for thinking such a thing, but I restrained myself. "I'm not an elf," I explained to her, "I've just got funny ears."

"Oh!" She laughed cheerily. "Sorry about that! I'm not making a very good impression am I?" This time I did roll my eyes. It was all too much. "Don't worry, it's a common mistake." I lied. I didn't feel guilty about it either. "Anyway, I should be going. You would have more seriously injured patients to worry about." I sat up, the over-sheet sliding over my chest. I quickly snatched it up. "Where are my clothes?"

After dressing in my spare tunic and a pair of new trousers I donned my weapons and cloak. Somehow, all of my possessions had managed to stay on me, despite my fall. I hadn't lost anything, apart from my clothes. They were damaged beyond repair. I shivered, rubbing my bare arms. I had trousers, and had cut slits back into my spare tunic, but I didn't have a shirt to put underneath. My arms were left without any cover, and too much of my collarbone was exposed for my liking. I would have to get a shirt soon. After tying the ribbon around my eyes, and propping a crutch the healer left me under my arm, I limped out of the room. My cloak hid my bandages, but I decided not to put up my hood. Half of Rohan had probably seen my face during the battle anyway.

Waiting outside the door, were Legolas and Gimli. They both gave me careful hugs, they were that glad to see me. "You gave us a fright there lass." Gimli said. "But you made it." I nodded. "I made it." Legolas sighed. "Never do that to us again." He murmured. "I'll try not to." I said, giving my wry smile to cover a grimace. My side still stung when I spoke. "Now don't we have a meeting to get to?"

We made our way to the Deeping stream. Despite sleeping for three hours, and who knows how many before, all this had managed to happen before ten o'clock in the morning. On the way, we met Gamling and Eomer, who Gimli conversed with. Legolas stayed by me, propping me up when my breathing grew laboured. I couldn't breathe properly, and could feel a large scar forming under my tunic and bandages. "Here," He said, fishing something off his neck. "I think you would want this back." He pressed something small and metal into the palm of my glove. I ran a thumb over it. I could feel the faint indents forming the word 'believe.' I had believed I would live and I did. "Thank-you." I told him quietly, hanging it around my neck. "You don't know what it means." "I think I do." Was Legolas's reply, and I pondered it. He really was kind, I thought. And what did that healer mean by charmer? I had a feeling this was connected somehow.

I was broken from my pondering by our arrival at the Deeping stream. I leaned heavily on my crutch. My burnt leg and pierced side were about to give out.

And so it was in the fair morning after the battle of Helms Deep, King Theoden, Gandalf the white, Aragorn Lord of the Dunedain and myself met upon the grass by the Deeping stream. There was also Gimli the dwarf, Legolas prince of Mirkwood and the lords of the golden house. And with them was Eomer, saviour of Rohan.

After exchanging words with Gandalf and Eomer, he turned to face me. I almost grinned. Despite being injured and leaning on a crutch, I was still taller than them all. I think. "I was wrong about you. Your actions save Rohan." Theoden said. I shook my head. When would royalty learn? "You should thank Eomer for responding so quickly."

"And you're a women."

"Yes, that I am. Don't underestimate us." Theoden was not sure what to think of that retort. He went on to exchange further words with Eomer, before we boarded horses and rode to the top of a hill. "Saurons wrath will be terrible, his retribution swift." Gandalf said. "The battle of Helms Deep is over. The battle for middle earth is about to begin. All our hopes now lie on two young hobbits, somewhere in the wilderness." As I sat breathing in the pine smell of Legolas's back, side twinging at every breath, I knew his words rang true. The war of the ring was about to begin, and it would be more difficult than ever before.


So Darke is alive, but is she alright? Obviously not at the moment! And sorry about the really slow romance, but its started properly now. I thank you all for your patience.

Please favourite, follow, and review! Remember I live on reviews, and the more I get the faster I update.