The War of Light and Shadow
By Freddie23
OIOIOIOI
Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.
OIOIOIOIOIOI
Chapter 28 – Public Opinion
"What have you brought amongst us?"
"Evil resides in the boy!"
"We should throw them out; leave them to their fates before they're discovered."
Everyone was speaking over each other, a great cacophony of complaints and protestations, making it nearly impossible to discern any one argument from the din. Only random fragments of shouting could be caught amidst the general noise, nothing that made any sense. Kinnale was coming under fire the most, for it had been he who'd just explained about his pledge to aid the future King of Gondor in his unlikely mission. Aragorn himself sat before the rows of angry or upset citizens of Bree, wishing that he was somewhere – anywhere – else. Only Legolas' hand rested lightly on his arm kept him in place.
The Elf gazed calmly at the angry rabble cramped together in the small tavern before him whilst Aragorn fidgeted, as their anger was directed at him, longing to have his guardian's surety and air of confidence.
Slowly, Legolas got up from his seat, his hand lifting from Aragorn's arm. As the Elf took a step forward so he was stood at Kinnale's side, Aragorn fought the simultaneous urges to both grab hold of his mentor in order to stay close and run away.
"They don't appear to be taking it very well," Legolas commented quietly to the Ranger.
Kinnale chuckled at the understatement and agreed, "No, they don't."
"It is to be expected." Blue eyes swept over the crowd. It was by no means huge. Men, women and even the few children had been invited to hear what the commander of the loyal protectors had to say but even though the whole town of Bree was in attendance there were still fewer than a hundred in total. Even in this isolated harbour for mankind, few lived. It was not surprising to Legolas that these people were angry and fearful of the danger that had been allowed to intrude upon their veritable oasis in the desert of Sauron's evil.
"They'll calm down in a minute. Or at least run out of insults."
"Good to know."
Legolas slowly returned to his seat, shooting Aragorn a small smile as he did so. The boy looked thoroughly terrified by all the attention being directed at him. Unfortunately, this was necessary to endure and there was very little that Legolas could do to ease his discomfort. So, he sat and waited, hoping that Kinnale was correct in believing things would soon settle down.
It took longer than the Ranger had anticipated, however, for the room to fall quiet and for people to realise that shouting was not getting them anywhere. Kinnale smiled then shot an 'I-told-you-so' look back to Legolas, who simply nodded in an attempt to appear moderately impressed before the only champion he and Aragorn had.
"Now that everyone has gotten that out of their systems, perhaps we can have a more civilised discussion," Kinnale mediated calmly.
One man, young and tanned, stood and asked the first question, "Why have you brought them amongst us, Kinnale?"
"I believe I have already answered that – several times."
"Humour us and explain again."
"I would have thought it is glaringly obvious. He is of our kind, so he is welcome here, as we have welcomed many wanderers amongst us over the years."
"That," the man jabbed an accusing finger at Aragorn, "is no mere wanderer."
"No, he is not," Kinnale agreed softly. "And that is all the more reason to protect him from harm. He is special."
"At what cost?" a middle-aged woman asked loudly, leaping up from her seat. "Given the danger he brings with him, is his protection really worth all our lives?"
Kinnale held up his hand to the crowd as murmurs of agreement threatened to develop into another round of yelling. In a sure voice, he told them, "It will not come to that."
"You can't know that, son. There are those among us who have seen first-hand the devastating effects of the Shadow," an elderly man called from the front row. He was sat with a young girl – perhaps his granddaughter, Legolas thought. Clearly his eyesight was not good as his eyes were clouded with cataracts and he squinted up at the tall commander, his face was scarred deeply, suggesting he had seen much of war in his long years. "And I, like every other soul here, have no desire to invite evil inside a haven that you yourself are charged with protecting, Kinnale."
"I understand that, Theo. It is a risk."
"That is putting it mildly," the young, tanned man grumbled.
"Listen, Aragorn is an ally to us. How many years have we lived in constant fear for the safety of our people and lands? At any moment, Sauron could decide to occupy this town and we would be left utterly defenceless. Now amongst us we have someone that the Dark Lord will fear himself."
"A child."
"At the moment. But in time, and with our help and our support, the boy will become a king. A king of our kind, who can do what we have ever failed at: unite our people under a single banner, give us strength yet again. The race of Men could be great, powerful and feared once more. Of that unity, I am certain Sauron will fear."
Silence reigned over the room as the people considered this.
"Listen, you have always trusted in us and we firmly believe that this is the right course."
It was true that the Rangers had not once led the people under the umbrella of their protection astray. Always had they done the best for those seeking sanctuary in Bree. How could they now ignore what the Rangers thought right?
OIOI
Aragorn laid awake in the darkness of his room. Laid on his back on the mattress, he stared up at the plain ceiling, unable to sleep despite the events of the busy day. His mind was whirling, making rest all but impossible.
From outside the thin wooden door of his room, Aragorn heard the floorboards creak gently. Too gently for human feet, he realised. As the door slid open, letting in a thin ribbon of torch light to glow on the young man's face, Aragorn closed his eyes tightly, hoping that feigning sleep would make the Elf go away. It wasn't that he didn't want his guardian with him but he just didn't want to see the sympathy that he knew would be present in that worried face, he didn't want to have to discuss the events of that evening. Surely Legolas would want to dissect every little word, every detail. But with his mind already so confused, Aragorn didn't think he could stand it. So he lied to his mentor.
Despite the ruckus caused by the protesters in the town meeting, the outcome had been favourable for Aragorn. Reluctant to the end, the people of Bree had nevertheless eventually put their trust in the Rangers and said that they would side with the future king despite all their lingering doubts. But Aragorn still did not feel comforted by the resolution. They did not trust him, or like him even. They only agreed because they loved the Rangers and Kinnale had stood up for him, put his reputation and his people's lives on the line. And now, Aragorn had yet another thing to live up to. He had to earn their confidence. And he just wasn't sure how.
Rather than retreat as Aragorn wished he would do, Legolas stepped into the room, pushed the door closed behind him and crept across the floor almost silently. A moment later, Aragorn felt him sit down on the edge of the mattress.
Legolas sighed heavily in the darkness, a lonely sound devoid of peace, then ghosted his fingers over the man's smooth forehead.
"You did well today, Aragorn," the Elf said in a soft whisper, very nearly inaudible even in the hush of Bree's only tavern. At first, Aragorn thought that perhaps Legolas was muttering to himself but then he continued in a manner which left the man in no doubt that he was indeed speaking to him directly. "I am so very proud of you…Your Majesty."
The words were said in a whisper and yet in Aragorn's ears as they echoed painfully loudly, stabbing through his heart and making it pound painfully against his ribs. By the time Aragorn opened his eyes and sat up in bed to ask Legolas about the use of the unfamiliar and deeply troubling title, the Elf had silently slipped from the room and he was left all by himself again. Suddenly feeling very alone, Aragorn leapt up, still tangled up in the sheets, and made a dash for the door.
Legolas was just climbing beneath his own sheets when Aragorn burst into his room. The Elf looked up in surprise. Neither spoke for a long moment, with both watching each other, not knowing what to say or how to break the silence.
With Aragorn at a complete loss for words, Legolas cleared his throat quietly and asked, "Are you alright?" The man nodded mutely, still standing in the doorway, clutching the sheets to himself. "Can you not sleep?" Aragorn shook his head, eyes frozen on Legolas. The Elf, calm as ever, nodded in understanding, attempting a smile. Aragorn wondered whether he'd known all along that he was awake and listening to what was being said or whether this was a genuine surprise to him. Either way, Legolas was not letting on.
"Am I keeping you up?" the man finally asked in a small voice, trembling with carefully restrained emotion.
"No," Legolas shook his head.
Another silence fell, but this time Aragorn's eyes dropped to the floor and, sensing something more the man wanted to say, Legolas kept his quiet.
"Can…can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to sleep on my own."
Despite the fact that in all honesty he had been immensely looking forward to sleeping one night alone and undisturbed in something very close to actually being a normal bed, Legolas nodded encouragingly, smiling, "Of course," unable to deny his ward anything. He shifted over on the mattress in invitation and without hesitation Aragorn moved over and laid down, hugging the thin covers around himself. For a moment, Legolas sat propped up, watching him in silence. "Try to get some sleep," he whispered to the man, tucking the other blanket around his charge.
Aragorn was no longer a boy, being almost twenty-six years old by now, an age few Men got to in the world where so much was against them. And yet to Legolas, a creature of thousands of years, Aragorn still remained little more than a child. Or perhaps, in his eyes, the man would never be considered anything but a child. Sat on the mattress, watching Aragorn as he drifted off into sleep, exhausted after his long and eventful day, Legolas thought he looked very much as the clueless boy he'd rescued all those years ago from the vicious Orcs intent on killing him and his father.
OIOI
For three long hours Legolas had tried, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep. Thankfully, Aragorn had managed to drift off after a while of tossing and turning and he now slept deeply, entirely undisturbed by his guardian's incessant insomnia. Sighing wearily, Legolas got to his feet with a wince and went to the window on quiet feet. Pulling the flimsy curtain back from the window, he peered out onto the street. Torches burned - lamps to light the road even though curfew was always in place after sundown and, as expected, the crowds attracted by the town gathering had long since dispersed and the night had fallen eerily still.
Unable to get any rest, Legolas crept out of the room, mindful not to disturb Aragorn. One of them, at least, should be able to get some sleep that night. Not troubled by the darkness, Legolas crept down the creaky staircase and pushed open the door to the bar area, which now was void of the bustling Men that had crowed the place earlier. He had absolutely no intention of downing any of the strong liquor the Men of Bree favoured whilst he was there but the peace and quiet the empty space offered was comforting.
He pulled up a chair from one of the empty tables and slouched down into it, rubbing his tired eyes.
"Can't sleep either, eh?"
Legolas startled at the sound of Kinnale's gruff voice behind him. Turning in his chair, Legolas made the man's bulky shape out in the darkness by the bar. "Uh, no, I can't. You?"
The man chuckled and propped himself up against the smooth wooden bar and Legolas guessed that after the town gathering he had helped himself and indulged in a little more alcohol than was good for him. "I tend to be restless when confined to Bree. I prefer to be in the open wilds." He grinned widely at Legolas then and added, "Truth be told, I think my wife prefers it too."
"You're married?" Legolas asked in surprise. "I mean, I knew you had a son but I didn't realise…" How little he really knew about this Ranger, Legolas mused.
"Yes, she lives here in Bree. I have a daughter here also. May, her name is. She'll be two years old next month." Legolas smiled at him graciously through the darkness. "What about you?"
"Excuse me?" Legolas asked with a cough of surprise.
"Are you married? Any children?"
A shadow flitted across Legolas' face at even the vague mention of family and he lowered his eyes to the table so that even in the dark Kinnale couldn't see the pain clouding his eyes. "No," the Elf finally answered. "No family. Not anymore."
"Sorry." The man came across the room, the soles of heavy boots loud on the creaking wooden floor, to sit down in the chair opposite the Elf. "Did you ever?"
"Have a family?" Legolas asked in a whisper and in the darkness he felt the man nod. For a while, he was silent and yet Kinnale waited with practiced patience. Clearing the emotion, thick in his throat, Legolas replied in a quiet voice, "A wife…two children."
"And they…?"
Shifting in his seat, Legolas nodded. "I pleaded with them to leave Middle Earth, to go West, but my wife refused, she wanted to stay with me, and she…" Voice trembling with emotion, Legolas shook his head, indicating he could not continue any further with this painful topic.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," the Elf choked out from his tight throat. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any of this to Aragorn. I would prefer it if he didn't know."
"Sure. If you want." An awkward silence fell between them, which Kinnale took it upon himself to break again after mere moments. "We'll leave in a few days if you're still set on going to Gondor." Legolas nodded, grateful that the conversation had changed direction at last to a less painful topic than his troubled past. "Tomorrow I'll give you and Aragorn a tour of Bree; we're not a big town but we have put together a fair community here. There will be much to see."
"That would be much appreciated."
"Well, I'll leave you to it then," Kinnale said gently, getting to his feet.
"Goodnight, Kinnale."
Left alone again, Legolas laid his hands flat on the rough table top, concentrating on the scarred grain beneath his palms in an attempt to distract his mind. The quiet that he had craved earlier now proved a curse as he sat alone with just his thoughts for company in the dark. Memories of his past stirred in his mind, dredging up that which he desperately longed to forget but which he knew now would not fast settle due to Kinnale's disturbance.
Getting up, he made his way back to his room where Aragorn slept soundly. A part of the proud Elf longed to curl up in the chair and cry himself to sleep but that damned pride of his would not relent, even now in this darkest of hours. So, he sat upright in the chair – or more accurately on its edge – and watched his young ward sleep until the grey light of the dawn filtered through the thin curtains at which point he got up, ready for another long, tiring day.
OIOI
Aragorn was, once more, thoroughly overwhelmed. The whole day had been spent touring around the small town of Bree. He was both physically and mentally exhausted by the time Kinnale, aided by both his son, Ciaran, and Janor, the Rangers' second in command, had finished his extensive tour.
It had been an odd experience for the young man. He'd never set foot inside an actual town with multiple homes and commodities that were in constant use before and he found Bree both fascinating and a little frightening. Yet, he had paid close attention to all that he'd been told, listening intently to everything the Rangers explained to him and asking the appropriate questions when prompted to do so.
On the whole, the people of Bree had been welcoming enough – although Aragorn suspected this good will was more aimed at the returned warriors, respected as they were, rather than a supposed king, new and controversial amongst their tight-knit community. Some residents had openly glared at him as they had passed by whereas others boldly approached to meet him, curious about this child whom they'd been told the night before brought hope with him. They were a poor people, scratching out a meagre living from the wastelands they had to make do with and yet often they offered him food, which he always very politely declined, not wanting to take anything from their sparse stores for his own consumption, and praised their unnecessary generosity.
Much to his surprise though, Aragorn found that he actually enjoyed venturing out into the unknown of Bree. He found that he liked Ciaran's company especially and he was also growing rather fond of Kinnale with every passing day. At noon, they paused on the tour and stopped by the house where Kinnale and Ciaran, along with Kinnale's wife and young daughter, lived and were fed a good meal that Aragorn guessed was put on specially for him. They did not have much, the family, but they were willing, happy even, to share all that they did possess. Gathered around the roughly crafted table in the one large room in the house, they shared stories and laughed and Aragorn wondered if this was what it really felt like to belong to a real family, so filled with warmth and kindness. Was this what Kinnale and the other Rangers fought so hard for? Was this what he was missing?
The only thing that darkened Aragorn's day was his guardian. Legolas had sat with him at breakfast in the tavern but had only sullenly picked at the food on his plate. On the tour, the Elf had tarried behind them, seemingly paying little attention to anything the Rangers had to say about the township. He barely spoke a word to Aragorn, even when the man attempted to speak with him about what they had seen. Slouching sulkily behind the party, the Elf walked with his head bowed, seemingly lost deep in thought the whole time.
When the others went into Kinnale's home at midday, Legolas lingered for a while in the doorway regardless of the invitation offered to him, but soon disappeared completely, only to return to the doorway moments before they were about to leave. Still, not one word left those pale lips.
Aragorn wondered, as their day-long tour of Bree came to an end, if he had done something to anger or upset his sullen guardian, although Legolas did not speak to any other person during the day either so he obviously wasn't singling out Aragorn to ignore. He did not look angry, Aragorn reasoned as they returned to the tavern in which they would spend another night, but nor did he look at peace either and he certainly did not look as he normally did.
Once again Legolas rather impolitely excused himself from the evening meal, leaving Aragorn to mingle with the Rangers who had gathered in the bar area.
For a while, Aragorn sat with them, laughing at their risqué stories and smiling politely even though his mind was elsewhere the whole time. At the first possible opportunity, he slipped unnoticed from the bar and made his way upstairs to Legolas' room.
The Elf was sat in a hard-backed chair by the window watching the people outside come and go but he looked around when his sensitive ears picked up Aragorn's footsteps in the hall. He said nothing as his young ward entered and slowly closed the door after him then leaned back against it to stand and watch his guardian.
"Are you angry at me?" Aragorn eventually asked blunt question in a low voice. "Have I done something to make you mad?"
Legolas seemed startled by the question, frowning. "No. Why would you ask that?"
"How about because you've barely said a word to me all day?"
Cocking his head to the side in question, the Elf said, "It wasn't my intention to give you the impression that I was unhappy with you, Aragorn."
Anger rose in Aragorn's chest and he pushed himself away from the door with an exclamation of disbelief. "What was your intention then?" he demanded. "You," he pointed a finger accusingly at the startled Elf, "swore to me, promised me faithfully, that you would not abandon me!"
"I have no view to abandoning you."
Tears of rage and panic sprung to Aragorn's eyes and he furiously swiped at them with his wrists, not wanting to shed them in Legolas' presence, especially when the Elven prince maintained his infuriating calm.
"It didn't feel like it today!" Aragorn yelled, voice quaking horribly as the words were ripped from his throat. "Today it felt very much like I was on my own."
Legolas suddenly leapt up from his chair at this, as though stunned that he'd given the boy he was charged with guiding and protecting the impression that he'd been in any way abandoned through his actions. "I didn't mean…I would never wish for you to think that way, Aragorn." He strode with purpose over to the man and dragged him into a hug, holding him almost painfully close to his chest. "Forgive me," Legolas breathed desperately, arms clamped around the boy.
And Aragorn, even through his anger, held his guardian back.
It felt like a long time before Legolas released his tight embrace. When Aragorn looked up into that familiar face it was drained of all colour, haunted shadows before unseen by the boy flittered unchecked across blue eyes sparkling with carefully controlled emotion.
"You are disappointed in me," Aragorn said softly, tears running freely down his face.
Legolas' eyes shone with grief and he exhaled slowly before raising his hands to cup his young charge's face, wiping gently at the tracks of tears. Looking deep into frightened grey eyes, Legolas told the boy in a voice that left his words in absolutely no doubt, "You have done nothing that could disappoint me." He smiled, to lighten the blow of his strong words. "You make me so very proud, Aragorn."
Aragorn this time threw himself into Legolas' arms, clinging onto him tightly as he cried into the Elf's shirt. Legolas' hand rubbed up and down the boy's back kindly, feeling very much as he had when his ward was a mere child, during those first tentative weeks of their acquaintance when the Elf had been so uncertain of how to care for a needy child.
"I think your father would have been proud also. So far you have lived up to every one of his expectations. And, for what it is worth, mine."
"It's worth a lot."
Legolas' eyes fell closed at this. He longed for Aragorn's approval; perhaps more so than he thought comfortable.
Again it was Legolas who pulled away first, smiling down at the still teary Aragorn. "I don't want you to ever think that I am not here for you." He led Aragorn to sit on the edge of the mattress and perched down next to him. "My reasons – misguided though they may have been – for leaving you to your own devices today…Aragorn, I want you to get experienced in leading these people. When we leave for Gondor, Kinnale will teach you their rules and customs so that you may take command when we do finally reach Gondor."
Swallowing thickly at the frightening prospect, Aragorn said, "I'll have to lead them?"
"That is your right and your duty. You are their king."
"But…so soon?"
"They will expect it."
"But what about Kinnale?"
"He knows his rank, knows it is beneath yours and knows that eventually he will be under your rule."
Bowing his head, Aragorn whispered, "I'm scared, Legolas. What if I fail?"
"You won't." The boy scoffed in blatant disbelief of his assertion. "Have a little faith in yourself."
Although Aragorn nodded, he remained unconvinced. So, wanting to direct the conversation away from him, he turned grey eyes on his guardian and asked, "Legolas, are you alright?"
"Why would I not be alright?" Legolas smiled gently.
Aragorn shrugged then offered, "How is your shoulder?"
"Getting better."
"It's been 'getting better' for a long time now," Aragorn pointed out. "We passed a hut today, filled with all kinds of unusual herbs that Kinnale said were used as healing remedies. They even have a physician in the town."
"Indeed, I recall," the Elf said, knowing just what Aragorn was getting at.
"They open in the morning when the curfew is lifted."
"Yes."
"Do you think you might go?"
"To the physician?" Aragorn nodded in confirmation. "Why might I go?"
"So that he can make sure you're well."
"Aragorn…" Legolas sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes.
"You walk differently, as if you're in pain, and you have not been eating even though food is readily available here, nor have you been sleeping," Aragorn pointed out strongly, getting to his feet so he was looking down at his guardian as sternly as he dared. "Don't think I haven't noticed, no matter how hard you try to hide it."
A small passed over Legolas' lips at this. "How observant you have grown," he drawled. In response, Aragorn merely smiled, indicating that he would not be swayed. "You are determined in this?"
"Yes."
The Elf nodded slowly and echoed his words from Weathertop, "As you command, so shall I obey."
"Thank you," Aragorn smiled in relief. The worry for his guardian had been pressing on his mind for a while; he would be glad to be rid of it.
"First thing in the morning I'll go pay him a visit."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes, I promise," Legolas swore solemnly.
Aragorn nodded, not quite believing his guardian. "I'll go with you then."
"There really is no need."
"Yes there is."
"Do you not trust me?"
"With my life, absolutely, but this…most definitely not," the man told him with certainty.
Despite the obvious insult at the suggestion that he would break his promise to his ward, Legolas' heart warmed at the thought of Aragorn's deep trust in his guardianship. Once, when the unwanted responsibility had first been thrust upon him by Arathorn in his dying moments, Legolas had despised the notion that Aragorn's fate rested in his hands and that the naive, wide-eyed child in his care trusted him without fear. Now, it was of great comfort to him.
Pushing back the unwanted emotion, Legolas smiled. "Very well."
"Are you coming back down?" Aragorn then asked, satisfied at last as he moved towards the door. "Your presence is missed downstairs."
"No." Legolas patted the mattress slightly with his hand. "I think I will have an early night."
"Alright." Aragorn knew that he could not argue with that so he opened the door, saying a brief, "Goodnight," before he left.
Climbing beneath the sheets now that he was by himself once again, Legolas sighed and rested his head back on the thin, down pillows that the tavern's owner, Butterbur, had provided the honoured guests with. He was tired, weary to the bone, and yet sleep was not quick in coming. His keen hearing picked up on the sounds of laughter from downstairs in the bar and he pictured Aragorn joining in with his own kind, building friendships the likes of which he had never experienced so far. For some reason, Legolas found himself touched by the oddest sense of melancholy. During their time together and in spite of his better judgement, he had grown fond of the child, the thought of losing him made that ever-present ache in his chest surge just as it did when he remembered his lost family.
And, surely, one way or another, before this war was over, Aragorn would be lost to him.
With this final, darkly portentous thought preying on his mind, Legolas, exiled Prince of Mirkwood, fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep.
OIOI
"Really this should have been treated much sooner," the healer of Bree admonished once she had finished her thorough examination of Legolas' wounded shoulder, complete with much frowning and no small amount of tutting at his state. She dropped a length of clean cloth onto the table next to the bed on which Legolas was currently perched then retrieved the pot of clean water that had been left to heat over the fire. "This will sting," the tall blonde woman warned even as she pressed the wet cloth against the wound to clean it. Noting that Legolas, sat bolt upright and stiffly on her examination table, did not so much as flinch at the application of the cloth, she rolled her eyes and tutted again, just to be absolutely certain that Legolas was fully aware of her disapproval. "You warrior types are all the same."
Trying to keep his temper in check, Legolas ground out through the pain in his shoulder, "And what 'type' might that be, madam?"
"Stubborn. Ceaselessly stubborn." As she finished cleaning the infected wound, Legolas did flinch away from her touch, letting out a hiss of pain. "Hold still," she snapped, gripping his arm tightly to keep him from moving again.
"Well, you're hurting me," Legolas shouted back, shoving her away from him slightly more strongly than he had meant to and leapt to his feet to escape her, muttering, "Stupid woman," under her breath.
Obviously she heard his murmur, however, as she threw the cloth down on the examination table, put her hands on her slim hips and said, "Fine. I lose nothing if you die from your infection."
Legolas' anger cooled faster than it had flared and he regretted his words towards one who was only trying to help him. He turned back to face her, the apology written all over his face. "I am sorry, madam. Forgive me, please." He slowly moved to sit on the edge of the table again. "I am sorry."
For a moment she stared sternly at him, gauging whether his apology was indeed sincere. Legolas remained silent as she decided on her own whether she would continue to help him or not.
She relaxed after a while and sighed. "Very well. I accept your apology." She retrieved a bandage and began winding it around the injured shoulder.
The Elf remained silent, perfectly well behaved for the rest of the examination. Every so often the healer would look up, hoping the frostiness had thawed from cold blue eyes but each time she was disappointed.
"Alright; another one patched up," she told him wearily and he stood from the examination table and pulled his shirt back on. "Take it easy for a while."
"Right."
She walked to the cabinet on the far side of the room and picked out a small wooden pot, turned back around and asked, "Can I give you something for the pain?"
Legolas was already at the door though, dragging on his jacket as he went, and, as the door slammed closed, he called back a short, sharp, "No."
Outside, Legolas breathed deeply of the warm air, glad to be away from the intensely pungent smell of the herbalist shop in which the town physician practiced.
"How did it go?" Aragorn asked and Legolas turned towards the voice to find the boy leant up against the wall of the building, watching the Elf with curious concern.
"It went fine," the prince replied bluntly.
Moving to catch up with Legolas as he strode away, Aragorn asked sceptically, "Really?"
"Yes, really. What else were you expecting?" Legolas asked, scoffing at the boy's question. "Or do you not think I'm telling you the truth?"
"Of course I don't think you'd lie!" Aragorn rolled his eyes at the suggestion, then muttered, "I was only asking."
"She wrapped me in bandages, that's all. Is there anything else you want to know?" Legolas snapped in irritation, keeping his pace quick as he did whenever he wanted to escape his ward. Unfortunately, Aragorn was no longer a child and he could easily catch the Elf now, so there was no chance of escape.
"No, nothing else," Aragorn answered the rhetorical question cheerfully, unrepentantly. "Are we returning to the inn now?"
"Where else would we be going?"
In reply, Aragorn shrugged, fully aware that Legolas could not see it. He knew that there was no point in trying to cool Legolas' anger when he was in this kind of cantankerous mood, so he simply hung back and kept his silence as Legolas strode through the small town back toward the tavern in which they were staying.
To Be Continued…