I stand just outside the gates anxiously watching the horizon for elven rider with a messenger named Tegelad who looks just as worried as I feel. It is he who interrupted my meeting with the Marshall of the West-mark to inform me that my elfling was being rushed here at the fastest possible speed. Captain Galathil was extremely worried and Prince Legolas had appeared to be mostly unaware of his whereabouts when last Tegelad had seen them. The sea longing had struck his prince some time ago, only this time it was much worse than ever before. All efforts to bring him around had failed and they hoped that I would be able to help him as I have always done in the past.
"He is in a bad way," Tegelad had warned me, "but if anyone can reach him it is you, Lord Gimli."
I was touched by his faith in me, but doubts assailed me. Always before my lad has come to me when he needed help in recovering from an episode of the sea longing, but this time he evidently had ordered his elves not to send for his father or me either one. That alone tells me that this time it is different and Legolas knows it. He must realize that his condition has deteriorated so much that those who love him will begin encouraging him to give in to the call of the sea and sail West. It is something he does not wish to hear, so the longer he keeps us in the dark, the longer he won't have to face the inevitable. He will not be able to endure forever, and he has been dealing with this issue for over one hundred years already, stubborn child that he is.
Long ago I vowed to myself that if I was able when the time came for my elfling to take the straight road that I would sail with him. I have never revealed this to him, for I had no wish to argue with him over it and I know he would have something to say about it. No doubt he will think it is too great of a sacrifice. And since sailing was not an immediate concern, I felt it better to wait to inform him of my choice rather than to spend years debating with him about it. But if Tegelad is correct, this visit may be the time when I will have to tell him of my plan. It is a conversation I do not relish having, but I will have my way in the end no matter what he says. I have sworn to care for the lad and if that includes sailing into the unknown, then that is what I intend to do, with or without his agreement.
But first things first. If what Tegelad tells me is correct, he is in no condition to think clearly about anything at the moment, let alone make plans for such an important event as sailing West. My first obligation is to get him well again. I say a quick prayer that I will be able to do so this time.
Finally I catch sight of horses galloping at top speed over the hills and as the riders come into view I recognize Guard Captain Galathil in front, and before him is my Legolas being held upright by one strong arm. The lad is slumped slightly forward so that long golden hair covers his face, and it is not until they stop right before me and Galathil pushes the hair back that my heart nearly stops. I have never seen him looking so run down. Dark circles surround sunken eyes and his normally nearly glowing complexion has been replaced by skin that is ashen and dry. His poor lips are chafed and cracked and his cheekbones are more prominent than before. Too prominent. I have never seen him so skinny.
Tegelad steps forward to help Galathil slide down without jostling their prince too much, and I immediately come forward to place a hand on my lad's brow.
"Legolas? Can ye hear me lad?"
His eyes flutter, but he closes them again as if the light is painful.
"Gimli?" he manages to whisper, which I take as a hopeful sign. At least he recognizes my voice.
"Aye Lamb, I am here. All is well," I pat his arm to assure him of my presence and then motion the guard captain to follow me. "Come Galathil bring him in, hurry."
My own guard captain takes the lead sending for someone to care for the horses and lead our guests to guest chambers that have been made up for them, while other guards go before us clearing the way so that we can make it back to my quarters unhindered by curious bystanders. I lead Galathil directly into the room that Legolas normally uses when he visits and that Dorbryn has already made ready for him. I assume that Greirr sent word to his mother about what was going on after I contacted him to let him know that he would need to take over my duties until further notice.
Whatever the case, the bed is made up and a fire lit in the fireplace and Dorbryn herself stands wide eyed and ready to help on my request, though she says nothing for the moment. Galathil gently deposits his prince on the bed, and Legolas immediately begins shivering and curls into a ball. And for the first time in memory the elven guard captain seems to lose his considerable equanimity.
"I…I was afraid we wouldn't make it," his admits, his voice trembling with emotion. "he barely spoke the whole time we were traveling, nor could I get him to swallow more than a teaspoon of water at a time. He has gone completely pale, and cold…see?"
He places Legolas' icy hand in mine and once again I am shocked by how delicate it feels. He has lost too much flesh; so much that even keeping warm is difficult. Still I try to remain calm as I rub his hands between my larger and warmer ones.
"Well ye did right to come here, Captain, and now that ye have arrived we can begin to do something to help him. The first thing to do is to get him comfortable and warm. I believe my guards have left his things out in the main room, if ye will be so kind as to bring them in."
As gently as possible I attempt to unbend stiff arms and legs so that I can get the child changed into more comfortable clothing, but when I begin to unfasten his tunic he moans softly and tries to struggle. I do not wish to frighten him, so I speak in a manner he will recognize and understand.
"Be still, and let me do what needs to be done. Mind me now, elfling!"
Even though the tone is rather stern, it seems to calm him immediately. He does not protest again as I finish undressing him before taking the loose sleep shirt that Galathil has fished out of his bags. I pull it swiftly over his head, threading his arms into the sleeves and then pull the covers up to his chin. All the while Galathil fills me in on what has been going on with my lad over the last few weeks. I am dismayed that his letters to me have been proven to be less than truthful, and again my thought is that he knows the time to sail is upon him and he does not wish to discuss it. But rather than saying so to Galathil, I just assure him that I will be able to get his prince to eat again, even if I have to hand feed him for the rest of my life.
I reach out to brush the hair out of my lad's eyes hoping it will soothe him and stop his shivering. Even so it is easy to see he is uncomfortable and possibly in pain, though when I ask him he only responds by squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering quietly.
"He needs to relax and sleep, and it doesn't' look like he will be able to do so on his own," I observe. "Fortunately we have something that should help."
I look up to see Dorbryn standing in the doorway and I ask her to mix up the powders Aragorn had made up for the times when my Lad comes to me in need of relief from the sea longing. I instruct her on how to mix up the strongest safe does, and she soon brings it in to me. I almost smile when Legolas predictably refuses to open his mouth when I ask him to do so. It shows that he is not completely beyond reach if he recalls that most concoctions such as this are foul. He refuses a second time, but he is too weak to fight me, so rather than arguing I simply open his mouth and force-feed it to him. He swallows easily enough, and it is hardly any time at all before he is able to open his eyes a little. He says nothing, and only blinks a few times but I can tell the drug is easing his discomfort already. It is a blessed relief.
"Rest lamb," I encourage him. "I will guard your sleep and be here when ye wake. Close your eyes. Do not try to fight it child."
I continue with this litany until I am certain he is deeply asleep and then I turn to see Dorbryn holding another quilt before the fire. Once it has been thoroughly warmed I lift the first quilt and let her replace it with the heated one, and then put the first one on top. It is a trick learned from Lady Vonild for tending the sick. Dorbryn does not comment on his condition, but I cannot help noticing the tears that come to her eyes when I lift the quilt and she catches her first real glimpse of the lad.
Galathil looks on and for once his expression is easy to read. I can see his concern and his relief, and I can also see that he is deeply exhausted in spite of his insisting that he will sit with me through the night. No doubt it has been a harrowing few weeks and an even more traumatic journey here. We have not always gotten on, but one thing we have in common is our love and concern for Thranduil's son, and tonight I feel some sympathy for the situation Galathil has found himself in. Legolas put him in a difficult spot by demanding his oath not to send for help. For while Galathil was sent to guard the lad, he has no authority to pull rank and force him to do what is best for himself and so has to rely on threats to tell tales on him, or sneaky measures to make sure he does not come to any harm. Galathil was put in the position to have to choose between obedience to his prince and loyalty to his oath to his king, and while Legolas has done beautifully in his role as Lord of his demesne, he is clearly not making good decisions for himself now. It is unsurprising considering the toll the sea longing is beginning to take on him, but still something must be done. It is my opinion that he can no longer be left to his own devises. Just getting a look at the condition he has managed to get himself into makes that obvious enough.
Fortunately I have planned for this day, though my original thought was to put the plan into action in another year or so, but another glimpse at the gaunt figure under the quilts lets me know that I will need to speed things up considerably. I will begin to speak to Greirr as soon as I am able. I had not planned on this being my time to retire as Lord of Aglarond, but plans change. Greirr is more than prepared to take up the mantle in my place. He has been preparing for it for more than eighty years and in fact has done so in my absence on several occasions when I have been called away, something that has happened more and more frequently in the last few years that Legolas' health has begun to decline.
I feel a slight twinge of sorrow at the thought of leaving this place for I have dedicated a great portion of my life to caring for it and for the folks who dwell here. I have treasured these caverns since first I set eyes on them and have carefully tended them until they are a part of me. A piece of my heart will remain here always.
But as much as I love this place it is nothing when compared to my love for my elfling, and it is easy to see that he needs me now on a full time basis. Besides I feel affection for the house I helped built in Eryn gîl Ithil as well and no doubt will enjoy life there as well. How I will manage living among elves full time remains to be seen, but it will be good practice for the future when I sail West with my lad, if I am able to set foot on land there. I have no way of knowing if I will be welcomed or not, but either way it will be worth it, for once I have seen my heart son arrive safely I will be able to go to my long rest in peace, even if it ends up being at sea. I know such an outcome would be hard on him but at least this cursed illness will be gone and he will be able to recover in time. It breaks my heart to think of him having to leave his family and his home, but our options are limited. He has no chance of ever getting better as long as he remains here, and he has waited too long to make the journey on his own even if I could allow him to do so. We must begin making plans for it now.
But the first step in doing so is getting him well, or as well as possible this side of the sea. I pull a chair up next to the bed and prepare to spend a long night watching Legolas sleep, for even though he isn't likely to wake up I am not comfortable leaving him in case there is a change in his condition. I take his hand and stroke it a little for in my experience physical contact seems to help him relax and keep his mind focused in the present, though whether or not he even knows if I am here is uncertain, but it is better than doing nothing.
Dorbryn has already offered Galathil a seat and is now plying him with hot tea and fruit bread. In the hundred years or so that I have known the captain he has come a long way in his acceptance of us lesser races, so he accepts her offer gratefully and warmly thanks her. Dorbryn offers to spend the night so that he can rest promising that we will alert him if there is a need. He is reluctant to do so, but even elves do not have unlimited stamina and he has been riding at top speed for several days under extremely stressful conditions, so with a little more coaxing he follows my sister to the guest quarters where I assume my nephew has welcomed our guests and made them comfortable.
Afternoon turns to evening as I continue my vigil and I am happy to see that my elfling seems to be sleeping peacefully with not evidence of the dark dreams that often accompany such episodes though my heart twists each time I think about the condition he has managed to get himself into. I have never seen him looking so fragile and ill, but agonizing over it will not make him well. All I can do is prepare my mind and heart for what needs to be done.
As I sit, I make a mental list of what I must do for the immediate future, both in caring for my lad and in preparing to hand my demesne over to my nephew. Then there is my move to Ithilien to think about. Most of my personal items can be moved easily enough, for I have my own quarters available at Eryn gîl Ithil and it is no trick to add space to the house if necessary.
I spend the entire night going between making plans and making sure Legolas is warm and comfortable and as untroubled as possible. Around dawn Dorbryn comes to check on us bringing tea and food on a tray. She offers to sit with him while I eat, and then so I can sleep for a while, but I am not keen on leaving him. I do agree to take the time to stretch a bit and change to fresh clothing, but I return inside half an hour, for I wish to be near when Legolas begins to stir.
Dorbryn sighs when she sees me back so soon, but she does not attempt to persuade me again. Rather she asks what she can do to help.
"He needs to eat," she points out. "the poor child is nothing but a broomstick as Mam would say. Surely he will awaken soon, and I should have something prepared."
I nod, for that is obviously the place we need to start. It is easy to see that he is dangerously thin and all my best-laid plans will be pointless unless we can get some flesh back on him.
"He hasn't eaten for some time according to Galathil," I tell her. She frowns fiercely reminding me very much of our mother and I feel the need to defend the poor captain. "I am sure they have tried, Dorbryn. The sea longing dulls his appetite and he can be quite stubborn at times, besides the fact that his mind is probably not very clear."
"Hmmph!" she replies, "well you can convince him if anyone can. Just tell me what you need and I will see to it."
I very much hope she is right about that, but I'll admit to being concerned. It is true I have always managed to bring him back in the past, but never from such a state as he is in now. I do not say any of this, but just make some suggestions about what Dorbryn might prepare.
"Something bland and soft to begin with I would say, and liquids. Milk, broth, fruit juice or even tea with plenty of cream. No black tea, or water since we do not wish to fill him up on anything that won't help him gain weight. He cannot afford it right now."
"You mustn't worry so," she tells me, even though I have said nothing about being concerned. "All will be well soon enough. You will see to it as you always have before. Now go back to your charge and I will see to everything else."
It is close to an hour later when Legolas finally begins to show signs of waking. I alert my sister and then sit next to him, stroking his hair and whispering quiet words of support. He groans softly and turns his head from side to side, and then his eyes flutter open briefly. Just as before he squeezes them tightly shut as if in pain. I hurry to shade the lamp in case the light is bothering him, but encourage him to try again.
"Come lamb, open your eyes for me. There's a good lad. Now can ye hear me?"
He only blinks a few times and I can see that he is trying to focus his eyes.
"I need you to answer me, lamb."
He groans again and manages to nod almost imperceptibly.
"Well done," I praise him, "but I want you to try to use words this time if you can. Can you hear me?"
"Y…yes," he says in a croaked whisper. "Yes Gimli."
I can barely hear him, but I hurry to offer commendation again as Dorbryn opens the door and hands me a cup of something warm.
"Perfect, and ye recognize me too. Now Dorbryn has made something for you and I need you to drink it for me."
I lift his head a bit, and when he turns his face away I try another tactic.
"Now elfling, Dorbryn made this special for you. You mustn't refuse else her feelings will be hurt. You do not want that do you? No? Of course you don't. That's my polite lad! Just a bit more then you're all finished. That's it…"
The effort it takes to sit up and drink the contents of the cup seems to drain him, so that by the time I have lowered him back to the pillow his eyes have closed again and a moment later his breathing evens back out and he is asleep. But I am pleased when I look at the cup in my hand and see that only a small amount of liquid remains in the bottom. At least it is a start.