~ Legolas is gravely injured but Nugu knows someone who can help. Someone unexpected. ~

28. Finding a Healer

"There is a healer closer than that." Nugu's eyes were red and his lower lip trembled. For the first time he looked his age.

"With your friends?" Galion asked, brightening.

"Yes. But… it's… this way." He indicated the direction they had come from.

"Back? But…" His face became stiff. "You were never leading us there," he concluded.

Nugu only nodded, tears brimming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Sidra croaked. Her eyes were dry but teeming with sadness and guilt. "We were going to tell you. We were discussing… about when. When it happened. We were too late."

"There is no time for this, we can settle whose fault it is later," said Nodir urgently. "We must go there directly."

"I hope we can get him on a horse. Galion went back to where Thranduil still hovered over his son.

Thranduil obediently stepped aside when asked to. It was as if all energy had drained from the normally so proud elf; his shoulders sagged and he moved sluggishly.

Galion and Nodir tried to help Legolas rise but he only slumped back with a groan, the shock apparently beginning to subside and pain following in its wake. He was clearly unable to walk and certainly not ride.

"We need to make a stretcher." Galion urgently looked around. "The oak is too big. Sauron's eye, why are there no damn trees here?"

Wynne stared at him. It was unsettling to hear an elf use strong language.

"We can take the spears!" Nodir began to pull at the one embedded in the oak, still red and slick with Legolas' blood.

Seeing what he did made Wynne feel sick. Would he be carried by the item that had hurt him so? It was horrible.

The two elves worked fast and efficiently, tying a bed sheet securely around the spears. Then Nugu and Galion, who were strongest, lifted Legolas onto it.

He cried out in distress, a drawn out moan that was heartbreaking to hear.

Wynne hurried to bring two of the pack horses to the litter. Using rope, they were able to fasten it between their harnesses, but they would have to move very synchronized to make it work.

There was no help for it, this once the horses had to be reined, so with stiff fingers Wynne tied a simple rope halter for each of them.

"You lead the way, Nugu," ordered Galion. Since Thranduil seemed to have entered an almost catatonic state he had taken over command.

Wynne took on the task of handling the two carrier horses. She steered Vatna next to the stretcher and with the halters she could make the two pack animals move in unison. When she got into the rhythm of it, she increased the speed from a walk to a trot, and later a canter.

The elves had tied Legolas securely to the bed or it would never have worked, but it was still a bumpy ride. Every sob, every whimper from the stricken elf made her almost cry, but what else was there to do? They needed the healer fast.

On Legolas' other side rode Thranduil, holding his son's hand while managing to make his stallion maintain the exact speed of the litter carriers, again proving his skill as a horseman. He mumbled continually, soothing wordless sounds mostly, and now and then something in Sindarin.

Gradually it seemed he was coming out of the strange numb state, perhaps beginning to hope his son might survive after all.

At least if Nugu was telling the truth about the healer.

oOo

Afterwards Wynne could only remember that nightmarish ride in flashes. Legolas' pale, damp face and sounds of distress, the horses' heavy panting and necks covered in foamy sweat, Thranduil's unceasing murmurs. It took so long, and she was so tired, and so desperately worried.

They kept the same merciless speed all through the night, wringing every last ounce of energy out of the mearas. The distance that had taken a day and a half to cover in their normal travel pace was now traversed in less than a third of that time.

When a red hue in the west announced that sunrise was near they were suddenly back at the heather moor. Here Nugu stopped by the steep cliffside, just beside the pool where Wynne and Thranduil had bathed an eternity ago.

The horses hung their heads, flanks heaving, their steaming bodies trembling with exhaustion.

"We must climb up here. There is a cave entrance at the other side."

How ironic. They were back where they had started; the uruk-hai had only brought them farther away from his friends.

"We shall have to carry the stretcher by hand then, for the horses can't climb this," said Wynne.

Before leaving they set the animals free, finally allowing them to drink their fill and get a well-earned rest, and left the packs by the well.

Then Galion and Nugu began to crawl sideways, step by step up the hillside with the stretcher between them. Thranduil and Nodir assisted them, steadying it and making sure Legolas wouldn't fall off.

His eyes were shut and his cheeks feverishly flushed. He had ceased moaning but pain was etched into his features; his forehead was creased and his teeth clenched together.

At last they reached the top, only to have to manage an equally hard course down the other side.

Below was a narrow pass, sparsely covered with pine trees on the steep cliff sides. They filed through it until they reached a place where a massive rock had fallen down. Behind it was a black, jagged opening leading into a small cave that looked unused. A few white bones in a corner indicated it might be the home of a hibernating bear during the winter but apart from that it was empty.

"Over here." Nugu put Legolas down and went to the middle of the cave. Reaching above him, he pressed on a spot that looked exactly like the rest of the ceiling. With a faint click a round piece of it came down on hinges, like a big hatch. It was made of wood but painted underneath to look like rock.

"I have to warn them we are coming. Be right back." He pulled down a ladder, climbed it swiftly and was gone, leaving them to wait anxiously.

Galion checked on Legolas while they were waiting, exposing the bandage. It had a big, ugly stain in a rusty shade of brown. "It needs changing." He laid a palm on Legolas' sweaty forehead. "No fever, at least. Yet."

Wynne felt oddly left out. She wanted to be near Legolas as well; try to comfort him, hold his hand and stroke his face. But how could she do that? They were not lovers and she had no right to do anything but stay in the background. A silent bystander.

Seldom had she felt more useless.

"We can bring him up now." Nugu's voice from the hole sounded hollow and echoed between the cave walls. Thankfully he had not been gone long.

It took some effort to haul Legolas through the opening, but with the elves pushing the stretcher from below and the uruk-hai steadily pulling from above they finally made it. Then the rest of them followed suit.

Nugu closed the hatch after them, cutting out all light in the process. "This way."

Wynne froze, afraid to stumble or fall in the ensuing darkness. The elves were less concerned, having their keen eyesight, and she heard them start walking.

"Here, take my hand. I know the way in the dark." Sidra's resonant voice next to Wynne was comforting and she gratefully obeyed, feeling a warm palm envelope her clammy fingers.

The woman was a lying traitor but right now there was no time to be angry.

Wynne shuffled ahead, one hand on the wall to the left and leaning heavily on Sidra to the right. The air was cold and damp, smelling a lot like the farm cellar back home.

The children tagged along behind their mother; she heard the youngest whine quietly, probably feeling neglected and tired.

Gradually her eyesight returned and she let go of Sidra's hand. They were walking down a rough, narrow tunnel that forced the tall elves and the uruk-hai to crouch. There was a faint light ahead and when she came closer she saw an oil lamp in an alcove outside a round, wooden door, a lot similar to the ones they had seen in many orc nests before.

The door was opened and one of the most ancient orcs Wynne had ever seen peeked out. It had runny eyes in a sickly, greenish hue and a thin mouth with only a few yellow fangs left. Its body was bent and wiry, with lead gray, deeply creased skin and white tufts of hair in a halo-like fringe.

"Hallo my boy. Dad went to prepare a bed." The orc was speaking with a heavy accent, and to Wynne's surprise its thin voice was distinctly female.

So there were orc ladies? She had not known, and judging by the puzzled looks on the elves it was news to them as well.

"Nanna!" The uruk-hai bent down to kiss her wrinkled cheek, still holding the stretcher behind him.

"There now Nugie, no crying, you ain't no babbie anymore." Nanna wiped his face with a bony thumb. "Dad shall fix your elf up good, don't you worry." She took the lamp, beckoned for them to follow and began to hobble away, supported by a rather nice walking stick.

The elves hesitated, hands warily hovering over daggers and swords. Wynne shared their apprehension; it didn't feel safe to enter an unknown orc abode. If there were hostile inhabitants they would be stronger on their own ground.

"Well now, don't drag your feet! Come along." The orc lady had a no-nonsense tone of voice that somehow was hard to disobey.

They looked at each other, and then Thranduil shrugged. Nugu had said there was a healer there and Legolas wouldn't survive without one. There was no helping it, they had to take the risk; desperate times called for desperate measures.

When they all were inside, Nugu closed the door behind them and bolted it.

A/N:

Some orc culture coming up next. :)

Thanks to all who's still reading, and don't hesitate to leave a review if you want!