If you are still reading this story many thanks. I hope its length hasn't put you off and you continue to enjoy it. Hows about you let me know. Hint hint :)
ILVB and DahybridQueen - You will probably both be happy to see the return of the elf!
ILVB - I'm glad you enjoyed the fun, I thought it was time to release the tension somewhat! And I agree, it took a bit of finding but Gollum Cheshire Cat is awesome hehehe.
Mmmmmm Heath bar. *Hugs ILVB* Hannon Le Mellon nin.
Chapter 44
"Saes," the quiet moan makes Estel stop moving the instant he hears it, causing the tethered man following in his wake to almost collide into him.
"Legolas?" he moves to the side of the litter being carried between his brothers, his heart missing a beat.
"Estel?" he can barely make out the whispered name as he leans over to gaze into the confused, pain filled, blue eyes which are blinking blearily up at him.
"I am here, mellon nin, I am here." He reaches out to tenderly smooth a stray golden strand of hair from the elfs forehead. "You are awake." he smiles down at the beloved figure with relief, "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever rejoin us."
The little entourage has been walking for a two full days, the three brothers taking it in turns to carry the young prince and guard their prisoner.
Flinn has been strangely accepting of his fate. Showing little emotion since the overwhelming revelation that Malin was somehow related to the two dangerous dark elves and was in actuality named Estel and that they seemed to also all be close to the blonde elf who was supposed to be his prisoner. It was all too confusing, he is not at heart a violent man, he had been happy to be led by Draeg with the lure of money and gems enough to satisfy his wants but after witnessing the horror of his companions demise is happy just to be alive.
The man has made no attempt to free himself from the ropes that chafe his wrists and walks passively along behind whichever of the brothers has him in his keeping at the time. Yet he has also remained silent. Past loyalty to an old friend and fear of the one they called master keeps his mouth tightly closed despite the twins best efforts to persuade him to talk. As he watches the young mans tenderness towards the elf however he begins to wonder if perhaps he has chosen the right path.
"'E means a lot to yer, don't 'e?" the question is spoken so quietly he is unsure if he has voiced it aloud until he sees Estel turn to face him.
"Yes," the young mans answer is sharper than he intends. "He means much to me." His voice softens as he looks down at the elf once more and smiles to see a little more clarity in the blue eyes staring back up at him.
"As you do to me, Estel" the voice is not as strong nor lilting as is normal but to the young mans ears it is like the fairest music he has ever heard and his smile widens.
"You had us all worried for a moment there, mellon nin, my friend." He reaches out to grasp the pale hand that is resting lightly on the princes chest and misses the thoughtful look that passes over the other mans face as he watches the two friends briefly then looks away.
"This will do nicely" Elladan calls to his brother and in complete unison the twins gently lower their burden to the ground under a large chestnut tree, then stretch and flex their arms to ease aching muscles. "It seems a good place to rest for a while." The pair then throw themselves onto the ground to lie back, staring up into the branches above them. "Who would have thought a wood elf to be so heavy."
"Especially one so skinny as this one." Elrohir grins. "Must be all that royal bood he carries."
Smiling at continuing banter from his brothers Estel unfastens the rope connecting Flinns wrists to his belt and loops it around the trees trunk, tying it fast to ensure he can not escape, before kneeling down at the princes side and reaching out to check on the bandages covering his body. As his hand makes contact however his wrist is lightly gripped by cool, elegant fingers, that tremble slightly as they try to increase the pressure they exert.
"Saes, Estel" the words are almost croaked out in a most un elven fashion, "Water." Legolas' hand lets go and falls to his chest once more as if the effort of holding on has been too much.
"Of course" Estel gasps out "I'm sorry mellon nin, I should have realised" he fumbles at his waist for his waterskin with fingers suddenly too clumsy to move and smiles gratefully over at Elrohir who pushes his own into his hand instead. "Here." He gently raises the young archers head and lifts the skin to his lips, allowing a small flow of water to enter the parched mouth. "Slowly now." He moderates the amount of fluid allowed and removes the waterskin when he deems enough has been taken for the time being, not wishing to overburden the elfs system and make him sick.
Letting the elfs head rest back down again he scans the bandages around his chest and notes that they appear to have no fresh blood seeping through. He hopes the same can be said for the wounds across his friends back but does not wish to disturb him to much for a moment.
"How do you feel?" he places a hand upon the princes forehead and is pleased to feel no sign of heat, which could point to fever due to infection, then breathes a sigh of relief.
"I have felt better" the smile playing around the corners of Legolas' mouth lighten Estels heart and he silently sends thanks to the Valar for the wonder of elven healing.
"I will need to check the wounds on your back shortly" the apology in the young mans voice makes the elf smile and he reaches out to take his friends hand again.
"Iston, I know" he holds the young mans gaze with his own "I will not break Estel." He releases the young mans hand and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "You may as well get it over with mellon nin, my friend."
Estel rolls the young archer onto his side gently pulling him over to support the lithe body against his own, hardening his heart to the sibilant hiss of pain which passes from Legolas' lips. Quickly scanning the bandages he is relieved to see no sign of fresh bleeding and thankfully assists his friend to return to a supine position once more.
"Rest now," he murmurs as he pulls a blanket back over the elf, noting the increased pallor and respirations brought on by the movement. "We will be on our way again soon. " He begins to rise to his feet.
"Where?" the question is so quietly whispered Estel is unsure he has heard it. "Just where do you plan on taking me Estel?" Blue eyes filled with an emotion he can not quite place stare intently up at him.
"Your fathers halls, of course" Estel kneels once more, frowning at the question, "You need the arts of healers much more experienced than I and it is the closest place in which to find them."
"Baw, no, Estel. You can not take me there." His voice may be weaker than usual but there is still a trace of command within it as tries to raise himself from the stretcher. "Nidh! " the cry of pain is followed by a string of curses unsuitable for the mouth of a prince as he falls back once more to lie panting from the effort.
"Hold, Legolas." The young man gently places a hand on the elfs chest. "You know you are not fit to rise mellon." He pushes gently as the archer raises his head and shoulders once more. "You need rest yet, else infection may still set in." He glares as the elf opens his mouth to protest. "And you need proper treatment, whatever you may feel."
Legolas nods then lets his head rest back limply, he knows his friend is right, he is unable to sit unaided let alone stand and bows to the inevitable. For now he will wait, rest and recover some strength, the brutal treatment from the orcs has taken more out of him than he had at first realised and although he hates feeling so weak is aware he has little choice in the matter at present.
Seeing the look of defeat upon the pale face makes the young mans heart lurch wishing he could take away all the pain and worry he knows weighs the fair being down. If only he could gather the archer up into his arms and spirit him away to the healers halls in an instant. A sudden realisation then crosses his mind, the look in his friends eyes when he asked where they were heading. No wonder he couldn't place it. It is one the proud young archer very rarely reveals. Fear. His brows crease in puzzlement. But fear of what exactly he asks himself as he looks fondly down at eyes unnaturally closed in sleep.
A sudden movement as the twins leap to their feet fluidly drawing their long swords brings him out of his reverie and years of training take over. His hand automatically plucks his own blade from its scabbard and he crouches into a fighting stance, nerves tingling scanning the area, prepared to defend his friends life with his own. He can see nothing to cause alarm yet trusting his brothers heightened senses has saved their lives on more than one occasion and he feels no desire to distrust them now.
Without warning there is a short rain of arrows from above, all of which pierce the ground at the brothers feet, just brushing the end of their boots and they freeze where they stand, not daring to move.
Estels mind whirls and he tenses, ready to throw his body down as a shield to cover that of his friend but no more come. Then a rustling sound from over head draws his gaze upwards and his eyes widen as the leaves of the trees part to reveal at least a dozen figures, all with bows armed and trained down upon their little company.