Sorry for the slow update! I've been travelling for a bit, and the internet just doesn't seem to be very reliable.
From this chapter forth, I will not be inserting scenes (unless a suitable scene from the LOTR can be used), so it gets a bit AU from here! I'll try to stick to the flow in the movies as much as possible.
PS: Loving all your reviews! Special shout out to Lordienne, who has been with me from the first chapter :)
Legolas had spent the last weeks covering more distance than he normally could, and in the deepest recesses of his mind, a small voice told him that he was escaping from an ache that had plagued him since witnessing Tauriel weep over the dwarf, Kili's, body.
There was also his guilt over drawing his sword against his king, for leaving his people at a time of mourning to deal his own wounds, and above all, for the pain that had been so clear in his father's eyes. There was also the shame at having left the battle unscathed, while so many other brave warriors, no less skilled than him, had fallen.
As he closed his eyes, the faces of those who died haunted him, faces of friends, strangers, and even those he had once despised – the dwarf king, and his cousins… He would have given anything for Tauriel to be happy, even if it meant accepting the fact that she loved another.
He pushed the thought away, and focused on his mission. He was coming close to finding the Dunedain, and the man named Strider. Curiosity took over his mind, and for blessed moments, he concentrated on tracking the company.
Tauriel had stayed behind to help the dwarves and men rebuild, her initial plans to travel halted upon receiving news that the Lady Dis was en-route, travelling in haste to the lonely mountain, or Erebor, as the dwarves called it.
Rebuilding was hard work, but she relished the opportunity to focus on the work that kept her busy. It was easier to be doing than thinking, for her nights were haunted by horrible dreams filled with death, gore and bitterness. And even so, she would choose to be haunted by nightmares over feeling that hollow ache, which, she supposed, was to be her constant companion.
It took almost a month before Lady Dis arrived, her back too erect, and her expression carefully schooled into an expressionless mask. Even though no one could see the pain on her face, the sadness emanating from her was palpable, and it broke Tauriel's heart.
Gloin had stepped forward to whisper in her ear, and her eyes shut momentarily, as if to hide the tears that welled up behind it. But when she opened her eyes, their eyes met and caught…
And something in Lady Dis' expression softened, as she nodded, almost imperceptibly.
Legolas had spent the last couple of days in the midst of the Dunedain, observing their strange customs and admiring the skill with which they fought.
They were hospitable, if suspicious of a stranger who claimed to be Legolas of the Woodland Realm, but he had yet to meet the one named Strider. It was said that Strider was away with a sizeable group of warriors to deal with an errant orc pack, and was only expected home in a week.
Even then, they had offered him lodging and were willing to have him over when the elders shared tales of the Dunedain with the children. It became clear that Strider was well respected amongst his people despite his youth, and the children were very fond of him.
It took another fortnight to meet the man in person.
Strider knew that he had to hurry back to the camp if he wanted to save Halbarad. It had been unusual for Halbarad to allow himself to be so distracted in the battle, although this time, perhaps it was worry for his ailing child back home that had hindered him so.
"Damn it, Halbarad," he cursed, worry for his friend lining his forehead, "Hang in there, your young one is still waiting for his father to come home."
He glanced at the festering wound on Halbarad's thigh, and swallowed another curse. It might cost Halbarad his leg, but it was a fate better than death.
"We're nearing the camp, so stay with me," he said.
As they entered the village, his people came up to them. But the joyous welcome soon sobered at the sight of a wounded and pale Halbarad. "Halladan, fetch me some fresh towel and hot water. Talath, get Melyanon. We meet at the infirmary. Tell Melyanon…" Strider hesitated, "Tell her to hurry." Talath's eyes widened, before he took off in the direction of Halbarad's home.
So engrossed with tending to Halbarad, it took Strider by surprise when an unfamiliar elf stepped forward. "It is orc's poison?"
His men stood their ground, but he could tell that they itched to step around Halbarad protectively from the stranger. The stranger stopped his approach, as if he could sense the tension, and said, "You will need Athelas, or King's Foil, in your tongue."
"I chanced upon some just nearby, if you would entrust me with his life, I can heal him," the stranger offered.
For some reason that he could not fathom, something told Strider that he could trust this elf.