Chapter Four
Offa was meticulous in splinting the broken bones, running his skilled hands over bruised flesh, bathing the great welts and cuts on the back, stitching the cheek back together, feeling for the internal injuries he feared. The elf was unresponsive, taking himself away to that place where the pain was bearable. Eomer hovered like a distracted chicken, handing things to Offa, lighting every lamp he could find in the temporary camp, trying to anticipate what the healer would need. Finally Offa had had enough.
"Eomer," he said, catching the man's eye. "Go outside. Check the horses, brush that grey monster of yours, play dice with Higa, I don't care! In the past year alone, I have set more bones than you have in your entire body! I can do this. I will call you in when I'm done. You are not helping." He smiled, to take the sting from his words, and then turned back to his patient, dismissing Eomer entirely. Even faithful Hroth turned his back on the King, lying out of the healer's way instinctively, the eyes never leaving the bandaged face.
Eomer, offended, stalked from the hut, grumbling about healers, bones, ungrateful dogs and the world in general. Higa, leaving the group tending the horses, offered himself as sacrifice to Eomer's temper, sending Lothar in to assist with the splinting instead.
"First he tells me to stay with him," Eomer sputtered. "Then he sends me out like a stable hand. And we are walking, mind you, walking, all the way home," he muttered, his boots tearing up bits of the turf as he strode. Higa smiled behind his beard.
"Offa is the best healer in Meduseld, Eomer," Higa replied, trying to calm his friend. One flash of the dark eyes told him it was impossible, but he tried anyway. "After Helm's Deep, he studied everything about elves he could find. You couldn't ask for a better man."
"I wish he'd make up his mind," Eomer stormed back. "Am I helping? Or am I staying out of the way? Do I just flop around, waiting to upset Legolas, or move him the wrong way or paint pretty fancies with words to distract him? I should have gone to Fangorn."
Higa sighed at his King's frustration. "You are doing what needs to be done. At least, you are going to learn patience from this, if nothing else. And you're exhausted. Why don't you stretch out somewhere and grab a quick nap."
Eomer spent the time getting things ready for the trip instead. His mind and heart would not let his body rest. The men, used to the tempestuous outbursts of their leader, went on calmly with tasks Eomer assigned them twice or three times. When Offa called him back in, his temper was precarious, but he was back under control.
"If everything is ready, we can move him to the litter and start. He hasn't woken, and I don't think he will for some time. Rest is the best cure for him. But we must take it easy."
Legolas, splinted, salved and bandaged to Offa's satisfaction, had been wrapped in warm blankets and tucked into furs. The late autumn chill was further warded off by the boxlike litter's heavy curtains, which could be pulled back to allow the elf to watch the sky, if he were awake and the air was warm enough.
Traversing the rolling grasslands, the heavy litter hung between horses trained years before to match their paces for such emergencies. Eomer pushed the worries that creased his brow to the back of his mind and tried to give himself over to the journey, not the destination.
Offa rode to the right of Legolas, carefully moving the drapes aside to check his patient from time to time. Eomer was worried the elf's stoicism would prevent him from crying out if the pain became to great or he was jostled. He stayed to the left, eventually unable to stay awake, he dozed in the saddle, trusting Firefoot completely. Hroth followed the litter, careful to stay out of the way of the horses.
As the day was bright with sunshine, and the horses well trained, they continued on with only short stops. Early evening brought a longer rest, complete with hot food and wine. Offa opened the curtains and examined the injured elf, feeling for the pulse, lifting blankets to check for any fresh spotting of blood on the bandaging. Legolas slept on, oblivious to the travel, the inspection, anything. Hroth circled a few times and settled beneath the litter, closing his eyes. This seemed to satisfy Offa, who muttered to himself, replaced the draperies, and sat down beside Eomer, who offered him the wineskin. Offa took a deep draught, wiped his lips on the back of his hand, and reached for the plate Higa offered him.
"How is he?" Eomer asked quietly. His gaze strayed again and again to the covered conveyance, his food barely touched.
"Better than I had hoped. I think we should stop for the night, however, and keep him still and warm. I should change the poultice on his face as well. You can't be too careful when eyes are involved. We'll put up the shelter tent, keep rocks heating to tuck in around him."
Eomer sighed. "I could almost wish he were awake. He loves travelling, and the weather has been perfect today."
"It's better for him this way." Offa replied, taking more bread. He dipped it into the stew. "I don't think he's aware of the pain while he sleeps. It has something to do with how they dream, I believe."
"What if the wounds go bad? It happens so often."
"Luckily, that doesn't seem to be a complication for elves. We'll keep them clean and trust to his body to heal." He looked up at the king. "It's going to take a long time, I won't lie to you about that."
Eomer pulled up some browning grass, spun it in his fingers, and flicked it to fly away in the ever present wind. He watched it's spiral path through the gathering dusk.
"What if the soul wound goes bad?" he asked, trusting the healer enough to give voice to the fear that taunted him.
"Borrow trouble closer to home, Eomer King." Offa said, between mouthfuls. "He's still alive. That's our best hope right now."
Hroth leaped to his feet and barked. A low groan from the litter brought Eomer and Offa to their feet in an instant, plates scattered. They rushed to the litter, the placid horses standing stolidly, and immediately drew back the fabric. Legolas' unbandaged eye was open, and he blinked against the bright slant of sunset. Offa stepped to the side, draping the elf in shadow. Legolas sighed and tried to speak. Offa shook his head.
"Try not to talk, my Lord. You have stitches in the cheek and have cracked your jaw, and it must be kept still."
Legolas forced his lips to move slightly. "'Mer," he said, slurring the diminutive. Eomer bent his head closer. Offa sighed and motioned Eomer to take his place.
"You heard Offa, love. Don't make things worse. You're doing better, he tells me. We'll be stopping here for the night, to let you rest and change some of your dressings. I hope it's not too bad. I don't want you to force yourself to stay awake to see the night sky either. We'll watch the stars together at Meduseld."
Legolas sighed and winced. "Dry," he forced out. Eomer nodded and turned to the healer.
"Offa! He's thirsty! Can he drink? Should I help him up?"
Offa returned with a cup and reed straw. "No, let him stay flat. Here, my Lord, see if you can sip a bit through this. Not too much, though." He lowered the cup and placed the straw between the bruised lips. Legolas sucked at it greedily. Eomer watched with all the concern of a mother with a sickly newborn, willing each drop into the elf's mouth. After a few sips, the healer removed the cup.
"That's much better, my Lord," Offa said softly. "Please, don't try to talk, but blink once for yes and twice for no. I have a few questions I must ask, but I'll be as quick as I can." Legolas concentrated and blinked slowly.
"Is the pain worse?" Blink, blink. "About the same?" Blink. "Is your vision blurred?" Blink. "Pain in the back of the head?" Blink. "Feeling dizzy?" Blink. Offa nodded. "One more thing, my Lord. Do you know how long it was before you were found?" Blink blink.
"Thank you, my Lord. Please do not try to stay awake, let your body heal. We shall be resting here, but while we are travelling don't be ashamed to call out. I understand the pride of warriors, my Lord, I am one myself, but if the pain increases, please make some noise. You are grievously hurt, and I need to know the instant things change."
Offa inclined his head and moved off. Legolas concentrated on Eomer again.
"You had better make noise in there," Eomer warned him. "This is not the time to be a hero."
Legolas blinked twice. Eomer stared at him. "Is that, 'No, 'Mer, this isn't the time to be a hero', or is that 'No, 'Mer, I'm strong enough to take this." Legolas didn't blink. Eomer groaned. "That was a dumb question, wasn't it?" Blink.
Sweet Eru, he's joking with me, Eomer thought. The bruised lips moved again.
"Hurt," he grunted. "Bad."
Eomer reached in and caressed the cheek gently, fingertips barely grazing the bandages.
"It'll get better, love. You're alive, that's what matters. Offa's probably drugged that drink he gave you, and you'll be off in dreamland again in no time. We're making this trip in easy stages, maybe you'll be up and around when we get back." Legolas blinked slowly.
"I was kidding," Eomer told him. "You had better be, too."
"Stay," Legolas said, with groggy and fuzzy edge to his voice. "'Mer."
Eomer reached in among the blankets and found the bandaged hand. He held it gently. "Not all the horses in the Rohan could drag me away from you now," he told the elf. The corner of Legolas' lip pulled up slightly, then his face tightened as the dry skin cracked.
Eomer bent down to gently kiss the corner of the mouth, a kiss as light as the sweep of an eyelash. "Stop talking so much, I can't get a word in edgewise," he murmured. "Go back to sleep, Legolas. I'm here. Sleep is best." Legolas closed his eye, his face falling back into lines of peacefulness.
Eomer stood still, ignoring the rock under the sole of his boot, the hair whipping his eyes, the dog circling him. He gazed at the bandaged face with inexplicable joy. A few moments later, Offa returned.
"He's sleeping again? Good. Eomer King, we should get the tents set up, move the litter into one of them. You can sleep there with him, I'll watch him, if you don't mind. He does have concussion as well, so I'll have to time his pain mixture."
Eomer refused to loose the limp hand in his grasp. "I'll stay with him. And I told you to leave off the King when you speak to me." His hazel gaze locked onto the dark eyes of the healer. "I owe you a great debt, and am proud to call you friend. We shall be spending quite a bit of time together in the future, I think."
Offa smiled. "No debt, Eomer. It is what I do. When King Aragorn arrives, his skills will understandably be more needed than mine."
"Yours will be no less welcome, Offa. I'm very serious about this, I am in your debt."
Higa had organized the erection of the tents, and the men quickly and carefully unslung the litter from it's harness and carried it gently into the tent. The curtains were pulled back, the cooled rocks exchanged for hot ones, and Offa checked the patient once again. Eomer, sitting beside the litter on a pile of blankets realized he was exhausted. Hroth came and lay beside him, laying the great head in his lap. He reached down to scratch the dogs ears absently.
"Sleep, Eomer. I will call you if he wakes," Offa told him, gathering his materials to change the poultices. Eomer heard Firefoot nicker softly, communicating with the herd as it settled to graze.
"Of course," Eomer said, his eyes closing even as he lay back on the pallet.
Offa didn't need to wake Eomer, Legolas' screams did that. Eomer was instantly alert,leaning over the elf, his eyes searching in the gloom of the lamplight for the cause. Outside the horses whinnied, upset by the cries. Legolas, eyes shut and mouth contorted, was whimpering in terror, joined by the dog.
Eomer fought the urge to gather the elf in his arms and cradle him. He spoke softly, reassuringly, as Offa turned up the lamps and reached for a small bottle. He tipped a few drops into a cup of water and got the straw.
"I'm here, you're safe," Eomer kept repeating, as though it were a charm for the elf. It seemed to do no good.
"See if you can wake him," Offa said, touching the neck, checking a pulse that beat so rapidly Eomer could see the flutter.
"Legolas, love, come back to me," Eomer sobbed unconsciously. "Let us help you." He stroked the bandaged arm.
In the bright lamp light, the eyelid flickered. The broken body twisted beneath the blankets. The moans softened, then turned to sobs. Offa watched the struggle across the elf's face as he tried to stop them. Legolas turned toward Eomer's voice, and a tiny spark of recognition returned to the elf's eye. He sobbed, then moaned again.
"Is it the pain? Worse again?" Eomer asked. There was a hesitant blink. Offa held the cup out.
"Give him this, it will calm him and help with the pain."
Legolas sipped until he'd finished the contents. His eye focused on the healer. "'Better," he muttered.
"Please, my Lord, try not to talk." Offa said, almost automatically. Legolas turned to look back at Eomer.
"Sore," he said. His voice dropped to a barely audible rasp. "Scared."
The whisper was so low Eomer barely heard it. Then he bent down to kiss the bandaged face. "It's okay," he told Legolas, straightening up.
"Offa", Eomer said, struggling with the panels at the side of the litter, "Help me with this."
Offa stared for moment, then realized what Eomer was trying to do. "Yes, of course."
They pulled down the hinged panels and piled Eomer's blankets on the open side.
"I'm right here," he murmured, laying down Legolas' line of sight. "Right here." Legolas blinked once, languidly, as the potion began it's work and the terror receded .
"Touch him, Eomer, let him feel you there." Offa whispered. "Until he drops off again. Sometimes that helps."
Eomer did so, gently stroking the shoulder nearest him, surprised at the warmth radiating from the elf. Legolas began to breathe deeply. "'Mer," he whispered softly, closing the eye and going to sleep.
"Sweet Eru, Offa," Eomer whispered, looking up at the healer's dark face. "He's got the Horrors!"
"Yes, Eomer, he does," the healer responded calmly, filling another cup and handing it to the prone king. Eomer leaned up on his elbow to accept it, looked quizzically at Offa, then downed it. He took a few deep breaths and pushed down the icy fear in his guts, helped by the warmth of the strong wine.
"He's never been afraid of anything!" he whispered to the healer. "What is there for him to fear?"
"Whatever did this to him, Eomer. It's another injury."
"Can you stop it? Aren't there potions, herbs, something?"
Offa looked seriously at Eomer. "I can keep him calm and mostly asleep until we reach Edoras. But he will have to heal from the Horrors as well as his other injuries. If he can't, the best herbs in the world will merely mask it."
Eomer's eyes were round with fear. "Will he ever get over it?" They both knew of men, taken by the Battle Horror, who never returned, who lived their lives as half men, hard drinkers, herb takers, loners, never seeming to recover themselves completely.
"We can hope so, but there is another complication. If we keep him sedated for the journey, we will lose that much more time in discovering what happened to Gimli. We can't ask him to tell us anything, at least until he's stronger."
Eomer was not a man who hid his emotions easily. Offa saw the entire gamut run across the kings face, fear, shock, pain, loss, love and finally decision.
"That is your opinion, Healer?" he asked formally.
Offa noted the change in voice. "Eomer King, I recommend that we do everything we can to keep him alive. When we get to Meduseld, he will hopefully be stronger and we will be better able to care for him."
Eomer nodded. "Then let him sleep as much of the time as he can."
Offa nodded. Eomer yawned, and realized that his wine had been enhanced as well. Offa looked at him steadily.
"You need to sleep just as much as he does, Lord King." It was unapologetic, a statement of fact.
Eomer looked at the man and laughed, a short bark. Legolas stirred slightly, Eomer reached over to stroke the bandaged face gently. Then he lay back and looked at the healer.
"Offa, I hereby appoint you Chief Healer to the King and his family." Eomer closed his eyes and drifted off again.