CHAPTER 34) OLD AND NEW
Thranduil spent a long time by his son's bedside. They exchanged barely a word, and Legolas was so weary that he soon fell asleep once more. At first Aragorn had been deeply alarmed, and had bolted anxiously to his side as the eyelids fluttered tentatively before falling shut. But a reassuring murmur of breath had set his heart back to normal pace – he was simply resting, nothing more. All was well.
Eventually, the Elven King left, to check upon the healers and arrange their travels back to Mirkwood. Aragorn did not ask whether he would be leaving with them; he supposed the decision was yet to be made. Yet he suspected that he would, now that Legolas was well enough to set his mind to ease. If anyone knew how being away from one's kingdom tore at a conscience, it was Aragorn.
A short while later, Miluiel appeared, peeking in from the doorway hesitantly. Aragorn nodded beckoningly, and she strode towards he and Legolas, frowning inquisitively.
"How goes he?"
"Well, I believe. He is still very weary, but I suppose that is to be expected." Aragorn replied gently.
Miluiel nodded. "Our bodies may heal more quickly than those of Men, yet it is not without consequence. That said, he will be back on his feet sooner than we would like, I do not doubt. He is young, and strong."
Aragorn smiled politely, but bit back his laugh.
How should it be, he wondered, for five hundred years to be deemed young?
He knew how some Elves could take offense to comments regarding their lengthy lives, and so he refrained from stating this. Instead, he asked:
"When shall you return home?"
"We leave in a day." she answered, discontent playing at her features.
Aragorn's brow crinkled quizzically. "Why does this sadden you? Are you not glad?"
"In truth, I am not. It has been such a long time since I was with him," she inclined her head towards the bed. "That, now that I am here, I do not think I wish to leave his side."
Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a small mumble of words from Legolas. In his sleep, his face was not blissful but scrunched deeply, as though deliberating on an important matter. His lips moved, making no sound.
"What is it, mellon nin?" Aragorn asked, as the Elf shifted slightly beneath the snowy sheets. "Is something the matter?"
His eyes flittered open, blinking back the blinding light.
"I am fine. I was merely dreaming, of an old…" his gaze fell upon Miluiel, and he sat up sharply. "Friend. An old friend."
"Mae govannen, Legolas." she replied gently, smiling in a manner that seemed most angelic in the cloaking, bright light of the infirmary.
"I should have fathomed that you would come. Of any healers of Mirkwood that would willingly ride such a way for a single patient, you are surely on the top of the list… you always were so mad." he added wryly.
"Though I worked to heal you, of course, I do not arrive as a healer. I am here as a friend." she contradicted. "Do you not recall those days, Prince of Mirkwood?"
"I verily do." he answered immediately, beaming. "They are among my dearest – though, surely, this you must know already."
Miluiel smiled, even flashing a gleam of straight white teeth that the Elves so often hid in their cheerfulness out of sheer composure. Legolas reached out a hand and grasped hers, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
"It is very good to see you. It has been rather a while." Legolas admitted sheepishly as he let her hand fall away.
"Aye, it has. I did not know whether or not you would recognize me, after all the time that has passed. It has been years, you know, Legolas." Miluiel interjected seriously. "I do not jest, nor exaggerate fact. It has quite plainly – "
"Do not tell me you hold my departure against me, for I do not have the energy to hear your protests." Legolas snapped impatiently. "I have only just finished overcoming my father's complaints."
"No, I am sorry." she amended quietly. "You deserve more than my grievances. Indeed, if half of the tales that have reached our ears at home are true, you deserve my gratefulness. To me, it seems that your Quest would surely have failed if you had not been a member of the party."
Legolas opened his mouth to contradict her, but Aragorn cut across –
"As a member of said party, I testify that to be true."
The Elf rolled his eyes lightly.
"Nonetheless, all quests and past acknowledgements aside – how do you fare? Your bleeding has stopped, for the most part, but are you in pain?" Miluiel asked sharply, examining him with a scrutinizing eye.
"I am well. My pain is only a little." Legolas replied, perhaps a little to quickly.
"It is the shoulder wound, is it not?" the Elven-woman queried knowingly.
"The broken ribs also." Legolas admitted.
"Here, we have things that can ease your discomfort. Let me fetch the poppy draught – "
"No, I do not want your remedies, Miluiel." he interjected.
"It is foolish to suffer when it can easily be prevented!"
"Pain tonics will do nothing but make my thoughts a vile cacophony. I would rather tolerate the discomfort than fill my head with that fog."
"You are a masochist." Miluiel murmured irritably.
"You are brash." Legolas replied, not in annoyance but with a small smirk, eyes bright and lively. "And yet I do not hold it against you. I would ask that you do the same."
Miluiel gave him a sharp look, but placed back on the side table the bottle of opium without further protest.
Suddenly there was a commotion at the door, and sharp, speedy knock. No sooner had Aragorn called out an affirmative reply than the doors swung open and a woman appeared, her skirts askew in a flurry of evident haste. It took Aragorn a moment to recall her: she was a lady-in-waiting, for Arwen.
"Is something the matter?" the king asked, taking a short step towards the doorway and cocking his head inquisitively.
"It's the Queen, m'lord." she answered breathily, her peasantry accent thick in her disgruntlement. "She requires your attention immediately."
Aragorn did not so much spare the two Elves a backwards glance; he was off at once, without a questioning word. Miluiel, however, called after them:
"Is it the baby?"
The servingwoman stopped sharply and glanced back at her in surprise, and reluctantly, Aragorn paused. The knowledge that Arwen required him, however ambiguous the situation, set him on edge – Legolas could almost see the invisible drawstrings that tugged at him, beckoning that he return to her side at speed.
"Aye, my lady. The child has come earlier than we had expected." she answered, with a brief nod. Aragorn glanced back at Legolas, his eyes wide with unmasked panic.
"Then I had best join you." Miluiel stated matter-of-factly, following them with lithe, speedy footsteps.
"M'lady, I would deem it most improper. We have midwives as it is, and – "
"I do not doubt your nurses' capabilities, but Arwen is not like their past patients. She is an Elf – as, you may have noticed, am I." Miluiel reasoned, indicating a gently pointed ear. "It would only make sense for me to assist. I am a healer, after all. It would not be the first child I have delivered."
This phrase sent Aragorn into a further state of dread, and his face grew yet bleaker. Legolas acknowledged his disarray as warranted, and tried to appear reassuring. He supposed that, in his ninety or so years, his friend had never before seen a child born – in the customs of Men, he knew, these things were kept to women alone, with even husbands often not assisting in the birth. His own people tended to be far less rigid in this matter, for Elves have fewer and less frequent children, and therefore celebrate each one's arrival with great enthusiasm. That said, Legolas had lived a sheltered life in this regard due to his nobility, and in all his years had never been called to assist in such a manner - a fact of which he was, secretly, endlessly grateful.
Besides, seeing blood on a battlefield is one thing, Legolas thought ominously, but this, quite another.
"My lady, I really must protest – "
"I will allow her." Aragorn interrupted firmly. "Please, let us go to Arwen with haste."
"Wait!" Legolas cut in, tearing back his sheets with blatant disregard for the stabbing pain in his chest. "I shall not be left here like a bedridden cripple. I will endeavor to assist Arwen however she may require, though I admit I have little experience with these things."
In one swift movement he swung his legs over the side of the bed and drew himself upright. Both Miluiel and Aragorn's faces lit up with shock, and they were by his side in the blink of an eye.
"You are not well, Legolas, not nearly well enough for this." Miluiel stammered, reaching out a supporting arm, which he flatly refused.
"You are not needed in this." Aragorn added shortly. "This madness will aid nothing."
"Then let me come." Legolas replied stubbornly.
Aragorn growled impatiently, and drew himself to his full height, several inches taller than the Elf.
"I demand that you lie down." he hissed. "Now."
"Is that an order, King Elessar?" Legolas replied tauntingly.
"Do not mistake me, Elf, I will summon the guards in a heartbeat and have them tie you to this bed." Aragorn barked. "But for Arwen's sake, I hope it will not come to that. Lie down."
Legolas clenched his jaw angrily, but he allowed Miluiel to assist him back onto the bed. As soon as he had leant back onto the pillows, both of his friends turned and hurried towards the lady-in-waiting, who had stood concernedly by the doorway. His keen ears picked up their conversation, even as the door swung shut and they set off down the corridor.
"Whatever are we going to do with him?" Miluiel asked anxiously. "He is as stubborn as a mule, and a danger to others as much as himself."
"I will worry about that child as soon as I am finished worrying about my own." he growled in response, and the bitterness in his voice made Legolas' stomach crawl.