Building Defences
Legolas stared at the young boy in utter disbelief. The energy that had flooded him during the attack of the wolves began to ebb away, but he struggeled to keep his senses from slipping into darkness.
Estel looked at him with eyes that were wide and fearful, trying to comprehend what had just happened. How could he even begin to explain? How could he keep the child from harm? Protecting himself had been difficult enough. Protecting somebody else seemed an impossible task .
"Estel", the elf said in a voice raspy with disuse, "where are the others?" He could not fathom that Lord Elrond had allowed his human son to venture this far into the wild without an escort.
The boy turned automatically but found only his horse behind him. No voices could be heard in the distance, no clutter of hooves."The others?" he replied shakily. "Did you bring Mirkwood warriors with you?" There was a trace of hope in the youngster´s voice.
Legolas shook his head, both in answer to the question and in shock. They were truly alone in the glade, darkness quickly gathering around them. There was no question in his mind that the wolves would return before dawn. His fear for the boy further cleared his thoughts and his voice was stronger when he spoke again.
"Estel, you need to ride home and get help. There is nothing more you can do here." The child nodded and slowly turned to mount his horse, but then he hesitated, turning back towards the elf. Some of the fear had begun to leave his eyes and he wrinkled his forehead.
"But you are hurt. I cannot just leave you here."
Legolas sighed. "I appreciate your concern, young one, but you would serve me better if you rode for your father."
Estel did not seem to have heard him. His grey eyes were now scrutinizing the elven prince closely. "You are shivering", he noted. "You should not be cold. And what is wrong with your leg?" He made one step onto the meadow as if to approach his friend but was cut short by the elf´s sharp order.
"Stay where you are, Estel,! Not one more step!" He coughed, gathering his strength to say more. He needed the boy to leave, and leave now, before the darkness at the edge of his consciousness overwhlemed him as it had done so many times before.
"Listen to me, this glade is laced with leg-traps. They are poisoned. You cannot get to me safely. Ride home, please." Speaking made his chest contract painfully and he had to stop, his breath wheezing. His troubles forced him to take some of his attention away from the boy. Even so, he was aware that the child abruptly turned to his horse. Finally! Exhausted, Legolas allowed himself to sink to the ground, waiting for oblivion.
/
Estel´s mind had been in wild turmoil, but seeing how badly his elven friend was injured had cleared it. He was a healer´s son. It would take a whole pack of wrags to drag him away from someone so sorely wounded, even more so it it was a close friend.
Nonetheless he was painfully aware that whatever he would be able to do was certain not to be enough. Someone had to gather help, there was no question about it. And he would have to find a way to cross the glade without getting caught in a trap himself. And he would have to put up with a badly injured elven prince whose orders he had just ignored.
So be it. He was fairly certain he would rather face all this than turn his back.
Strangely, the many obstacles he needed to overcome served to calm him. After a moment´s consideration he pulled his travelling pack from his stallion´s back and placed it carefully at his feet. Then he fished his quill and paper out of his pocket and scribbled a quick note, detailing where they were and what had happened. He loosened the reins from the bridle to keep Alagos from tripping during his riderless journey home, and then used them to tie his note to the saddle.
Stepping back, he studied his handiwork. All seemed to be taken care of. "Run now, my friend", he whispered to the steed. "Run home and bring us help. But stay safe, beware of the trees and branches on the path." The horse looked at him steadily, the big dark eyes seemingly understanding every word. "Go now!" Estel said more loudly, giving the beast a light slap on the chest. "Mbar, lhagr!" /Home, quickly!/
After the briefest hesitation Alagos complied and jumped away into the darkness. For a little while, Estel could hear the horse breaking through the bunderbrush, but then the sounds faded away. To his surprise, the sudden silence drove a fresh spike of fear into his heart. Before it could take hold of him he turned to consider his next problem..
Night was falling quickly now, but he could still make out Legolas´ huddled form in the middle of the glade. At least he did not have to worry that the elf might be dead, for his laboured breathing could be heard quite clearly.
"But how to get to you?" Estel asked himself. It was definately too dark to see anything that was hidden in the grass, if that had even been possible in daylight. Coming to a decision, Estel shouldered his travelling pack and picked up a thick, sturdy branch . "This should do", he muttered and carefully prodded the ground before him, making sure it was clear before he stepped onto it.
It was slow going, but the glade was not very big. Before long, Estel had reached the injured elf. He felt elated at having solved this problem so smoothly, but the feeling was quickly replaced by insecurity.
This close to the elf, the boy way nearly overwhelmed by the metallic smell of blood. Legolas´ failure to acknowledge him and his erratic breathing suddenly unnerved the young human so much that he forgot his training, fell to his knees and shook his friend´s shoulders.
The prince´s eyes snapped open, accompanied by a shout of pain. He curled in on himself, his breaths turning to gasps as he tried to ride out the wave of nausea that the suddenly increaded anguish had relased upon him. Dimly, he heard a panicked voice at his side, repeating one phrase over and over and over again. It took long moments before the words penetrated the haze of pain, enabling him to understand them.
"I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry..."
Estel. When had he returned? Why did he still seem to be alone? Blindly he reached out with one hand until he found the boy´s and squeezed it reassuringly. He could not yet trust his voice to utter an intelligible word. All he could do was try to keep breathing.
Estel felt hot tears on his cheeks but angrily wiped them away. Legolas´ attempt to calm him, wordless as it was, had at least proven to him that his friend was truly still with him. He berated himself for losing his composure like that. He knew better then to shake the injured. What would his father say if he could see him now?
Strangely, the thought suddenly brought the memory of Lord Elrond´s calm voice to his mind, almost as if his adopted father was sitting beside him on the dark glade.
"Emotions are an asset, my son", the elven lord would say, "they serve as our protectors and often guide us onto the right path. However, you need to postpone them when you deal with the sick and injured. Never forget that there are only two things a healer must do when first encountering a patient."
Estel remembered now, for he had heard these word very often. Quietly he whispered them to himself. "First see, then find the remedy. First see, then find the remedy. First see..." He trailed off, suddenly aware of the darkness around them. He knew then what he had to do next, and the realization came as a great relief.
Gently, he pried his hand out of Legolas´ grasp and shrugged his pack off his shoulders. After a short search he found the tinder. Now for the wood – there were plenty of branches strewn about, but they were wet from lying on the soaken ground. His mind reeled, trying to come up with a solution.
"Higher", Legolas ground out beside him. Surprised, Estel found that the elf had opened his eyes, if only a little. He obviously understood what the boy was trying to accomplish. "In the trees. And get my pack." Momentarily confused, the human shook his head, but then he suddenly understood. The wind had snapped many branches that had remained in the trees where they would have had the chance to dry a little during the sunny day.. Many hung low enough for him to reach.
Worldlessly Estel got up. The thought of making his way over the glade yet again scared him more than before, strangely, but he would have to manage. He picked up a few fallen branches to mark a safe path through the grass, berating himself for not having done so before.
He had only made a few steps when Legolas called out to him again, his voice a little stronger. "Get my knives. Estel. And your bow." There seemed to be regret in his words.
The boy swallowed. He knew where one of the knives was and gingerly made his way back to the dead wolf. He was glad for the darkness when he reached down and wrenched the weapon free, blood sticking to his fingers.
"Where is your second knife?" he called back with the sickening feeling that he was not going to like the answer, and the time Legolas took to reply only hightened his anticipation.
"In my steed´s eye."
Estel´s breath caught. For a moment he was frozen to the spot, unable to move. Legolas seemed to sense his distress, for he said: "It is well, young one. One knife and your bow should also do." After a short silence he added: "I am truly sorry. You should not have to be here. You should not have to see this."
But he had chosen to stay. He had chosen to see. Taking quivering breaths, Estel forced his feet to move again. He would collect some wood first, then retrieve his bow. He would decide about the knife later.
Only a short time after that the boy carried an arm full of relatively dry branches and the bow slung over his shoulder. He thought about the knife, but realized that he had no way of carrying it. Not without dropping everything else and losing precious time. Legolas needed some warmth, he was sure of that.
"Later", he muttered to himself, " I will get the knife later."
Soon a merry little fire burned in the glade. Its warmth revived the elf´s spirit enough for him to push himself up on one elbow, holding his fingers as closely to the flames as he dared.
Estel noted with dismay how white his friend´s skin was, how his hand trembled. His face was deadly pale, the dark circles under his eyes looking almost like they had been drawn with coal.
Legolas felt the inquiring gaze and tried to smile. "Thank you for the fire, Estel. It is a most welcome relief. Now we should arrange our defences." He paused and eyed the boy for any sign of panic before he continued: "The wolves will be back."
A curt nod was his reply. The boy reached behind himself and carefully laid the bloody knife and his bow next to the fire. He lifted his gaze to look at Legolas, silently asking for approval. He hoped not to be asked to get the second knife.
However, Legolas´ eyes were on the bow instead. "Estel", he asked cautiously, "where are the arrows?" For a moment, all the boy could do was stare, dumbfounded. Then a coldness seized his heart and he felt tears rise to his eyes again, unbidden.
"They are strapped to my saddle", he whispered finally, not even daring to look up now. He heard the elf sigh, a strangely defeated sound that was worse than any reproval. Silence strechted between them, only broken by Legolas´ laboured breathing.
Estel swallowed hard. Somehow there had been a part of him that had relied on Legolas to defend him. He realized that now. He had considered his choice to stay mature, brave even, but his courage was melting away now, useless against the hot fear that gripped him. He could feel his breath quickening, panic silently stalking him like a beast of prey. He knew without a doubt that the elf would not be able to fight off the wolves in close combat. The pack would return, and they would be hungry...
Suddenly, the boy´s head snapped up. An idea entered his mind, but he knew he would have to act upon it quickly. Without a word he grabbed a branch, lit it in the fire and rushed along the trap-free path he had marked towards the dead wolf. It lay close the Legolas´ horse, but if he could just pull it a bit fruther aside...
"Estel?" Legolas called to him. "Come back here. We need to stay close to the fire. Do not worry, we will be safe enough without the arrows."
"No", the human replied with conviction. "No we will not be, not if the wolves are truly hungry. We need to put food between them and us." Snatching up a few branches, he hurriedly secured a second path, this time to portect himself when he moved the wolf.
When he was done, he grabbed the dead animal by the fur of its neck and pulled. It was heavy, and at first he could not move it a single inch. Grunting, he pulled harder, throwing his weight back with all his might.
The carcass moved. First one foot, then another. Estel only managed to drag it a few feet, however, before the trap that had caught its leg prevented any further movement. The boy cursed but did not dwell on the problem. He dimly wondered where his panic had gone, but a strange strength was coursing through his veins now, urging him on.
"Retrieve my pack", Legolas called from where he lay, obviously watching the young human closely. "There is some dried meat in there. Drench it in blood, then strew it about."
Estel nodded and quickly did as he was told. This time, he did not flinch at the stench of blood or at the amount of the liquid that covered his hands, his mind set on his task.
He also brought Legolas travelling coat with him and when he returned to the fire, he gently placed it over the elf. Legolas looked at him thoughtfully, and Estel felt a subtle shift in the way the elf regarded him. "The wolves should be distracted now if they approach from the left, from in front of or from behind us", Estel reported. "That leaves our right side unprotected. We should build a bigger fire there."
Legolas nodded slowly, a small smile of approval on his face. "It would make sense to create a ring of fires around us", he said. "There is no need to overly worry about our right. A dead deer lies there." His eyes turned sad again. "It was its screams that lead me here in the first place. It was my whish to help it." He paused at the memory before he continued dryly: "Now it seems it will help us."
Estel busied himself with the fires, also gathering more wood to feed them. When he finally sat down next to Legolas again the elf had closed his eyes, but took the human´s hand to let him now he was merely resting.
The boy felt his mood shift yet again. The activity had pushed his fear aside, but now it creeped up on him once more. He shook his head as if he could dislodge the feeling with the simple movement. He did not understand why his emotions were so erratic, throwing him about like waves would a boat in rough seas. Why could he never hold on to his courage once he had found it?
He tried to concentrate on keeping watch, on listening for the wolves or the approach of riders. How long since he had sent Alagos on his way? How long would the riders need to reach them? He could not get his mind to answer these questions, his thoughts constantly slipping back to the dangers around them.
He needed to act again. It had worked before to fight back his panic.
Struggling to his feet, he decided to collect more wood, only this time he would go to the other side of the glade where his chances of finding dry branches would be higher.
He gingerly stepped over Legolas, lit yet another branch to light his way and stepped between two fires.
He had only made a few strides when he heard Legolas call out in alarm. Not comprehending what was wrong he turned quickly, his heel grazing something hard in the grass. There was a sharp metallic snap, but at the same moment he felt himself seized by a pair of hands and yanked back towards their small camp.
Boy and elf landed in a heap. Estel´s mind was reeling until he finally understood. How could he have been so careless? He knew the glade was full of traps and now he had almost gotten caught in one. His shaking hand sought out his foot and he could feel the leather of his boot where it was ripped apart. The yaws of the trap had not been able to penetrate his skin, however, thanks to Legolas´ quick reaction.
Estel suddenly realized that the elf had not moved. Quickly, he untangled himself from his friend and laid him out on his back as best as he could. The elf´s eyes were closed and this time there was no reaction to show that he was still conscious. Biting back the sob that threatened to rise from his throat. Estel forced himself to look at Legolas´ injured leg.
It was the first time he had done so since he had reached his friend and he found his eyes turn away on their own account at the extent of the damage. Instead they focussed on the growing pool of fresh blood that gathered beneath the torn limb.
Estel´s hands shook when they ripped his cloak of his back and pressed it onto the wound. Warm wetness immediately drenched the thick fabric.
What was he to do? What was he to do now?
To be continued...
Review responses:
Rose61393: Thank you – I hoped you liked this one, too.
Pip the Dark Lord of All: Thanks (also for your other reviews!). I´m glad you like it.
Horsegirl01: You got it right, all the days trapped outside did not improve Legolas`health... Nor did this chapter help *g* Thanks for your comment.
SnoCat: Thank you – I hope this was soon enough *g*