Finally chapter 6,
Thank you to JellyShip for reviewing! Your comment finally lit the fire of inspiration under my ass, so here is chapter 6 for you!
Every step hurt. The dull, thudding, pain lanced through Naniels arm, into his chest and down his torso. His arm was hot, itching, and tingling under the bandages. The fabric of his coat was too heavy, too scratchy, too much. It pulled on the wrappings and trapped the heat from his body. Too much. He walked on, shifting the coat on his shoulders and injured arm. It sagged, almost falling off his shoulders and Naniel had to heave it back over, There is pulled dangerously on his bandages, making the skin underneath grow with cold pain. The collor suddenly was too itchy, too tight on his throat.
In a frenzied flush, Naniel ripped the coat and threw it to the ground. The yellow fabric lay crumbled in the dirt.
He stopped.
There were talented seamstresses who made that coat. It's worth far more than you will ever be. You are worthless.
He couldn't get enough air, no matter how he gasped. His vision fuzzied, zoning in on the yellow fabric against the gray dirt below.
"Naniel!" His head snapped painfully as he found Elladan, half-running, towards him. Elrohir hot on his heels. "Naniel, are you ok?"
He was there. He had been far away just moments ago, but now he was there, hands on Naniels shoulders. Faces inches from his. His eyes were full of worry.
"-ere have you been? You've talked with Father, correct? Are you alright?"
"I-I." Naniel stuttered. You have gone behind my back, behind my wishes, in speaking to my sons. "You lied."
"What?" Elladan had pickled up the yellow coat and was now trying to put it back onto Naniel. He shoved the coat away, it was too much. "Please sit down, you're too pale."
"Get away from me!" Naniel shouted, "You lied! To me, to your father, who knows who else. You said he wanted you to invite me, but now I hear that was a lie! Your father never wanted me near you."
"A lie?" Elladan paled, he looked back at Elrohir, who stepped away, hands raised.
"Don't involve him, he never liked me anyway." Naniel glared venom at Elrohir, who glared back.
"I didn't lie, Naniel-"
"You didn't lie, but you never told me the truth! I've been uncertain of my life for too many fucking years! The one place, the moment in my life, where I have been momentarily peaceful is now threatened with change. I want to stay here, but I might not be allowed to because of you!" He shoved Elladan, screaming.
"Naniel, please, let me explain." Elladan rose again.
"No, no, leave me be." The anger was gone in an instance, his arm hurt so much. He turned away, closing his eyes as he began to walk.
He didn't know where he was going, nor what he was doing, walking around in only his under tunic. He walked, out of the city, over the manicured paths, cutting through the sharp hillside to climb his way out of the valley.
Up above the city, clinging to the side of the slope's face, Naniel could breathe. In and out, filling his lungs with so much air it burned. His fingers and toes were growing numb, his burned arm tucked safely against his side, while he clung to the rocks, the roots of small trees, or even the loose dirt. Periodically protruding out of the valley's walls were ledges, often housing trees, scenic rocks, and small animal nests. Blessed, kind ledges that Naniel could pull himself onto. The wind whipped through his hair, caressing his eyes, flattening his tunic against his sweaty torso, whispering to him, rejuvenating him to climb to the next one, and then the next one. Up and up, Naniel watched the progression of how the house faded and shrank, until finally he reached the top.
It was the hardest pass. The gentle slope he had climbed had turned into a vicious straight drop. Where once roots and rocks had aided Naniel's one handed climb, now they provided no further purpose but to provide some sort of cushion for his fall. However Naniel did it, clawing his way over the final ledge, scraping his arm and snarling like an animal. Finally on solid ground again he flopped on his back, panting. His head was blessedly silent, the only sound in his body was his beating heart.
Hunger pangs hit him as he lay there. A patch of moss cushioned him kindly, his good arm protecting his eyes from the bright sun.
"Gone are the days where one would have hoped for an inconsequential journey, but did we ever have them?" Naniel jumped at the sound of hoofbeats. He followed the pristine white legs to see a dirty, weak, old man wrapped in a gray cloak, sitting atop the most beautiful horse Naniel had ever seen.
He probably stole it, Naniel thought, no man, rich or poor, would have been able to afford that horse.
"Well? Are you going to sit there boy or are you going to tell me why you're on the ground?" The man barked,
"Who are you?" Naniel asked curtly.
"Well, a very good afternoon to you, young man. If you are a friend to the Lord of Rivendell then you are a friend to me. If you are an enemy, well then, we will have to see what happens then."
"I am not a friend, I am a prisoner." Naniel scoffed, pushing his body up off the ground.
"Hmm, a prisoner, well then why did you leave? It is said that the prisoners are treated better than the guests." The old man grunted. "Well then, if you are a prisoner, then it'll do you good to return to your cell. The Lord Elrond does not like his patients running off only half-healed." The old man nudged the beautiful horse to turn down the winding path.
"I am not one of his patients and it will do you no good to think I will return to that place." Naniel spat. The horse paused as the old man looked back.
"Oh, and where will you go if you do not? You expect me to believe you would survive crossing the wild? With no gear, injured, and only in a tunic? My boy, if you do, you are more foolish than I imagined. Come along." Naniel watched him patter down the road again, swaying with the horse, humming to himself, before begrudgingly following him. Once he had caught up to the horse's shoulder, the old man wordlessly handed him a waterskin, already uncorked. Naniel took it and silently drank.
He looks far too frail to put up much of a fight, truthfully if I wanted to, I could take the horse and run, Naniel thought. The horse's large eyes swung to Naniel as it snorted, flicking its ears back and tightening its jaw.
"If you are thinking of robbing me and stealing this beautiful horse, then you are not a fool, you are a full idiot. Don't underestimate me boy, even in this state I can and will defeat you. And do not think of taking Shadowfax as a fool either, he is the Lord of All Horse and not all can ride him." Naniel toes curled in his boots as he fought back a remark, wordlessly handing the man back his waterskin and mumbling a curt thank you.
"Now, while we have a little way down, and now that you're no longer parched, why don't we get to know each other." The old man said, humming and smacking his lips.
"I will start, I am Gandalf the Grey. I have had many names, you may also know me as Mithrandir, as I am known by the elves, or as Tharkûn by the dwarves, or as Incánus in the south." Naniel peaked up, seeing the man looking at him out of the corner of his wrinkled eyes. "That is my name, as for my story, I will keep that to myself until I have known your name."
"I don't want to tell you my name." Naniel snapped.
"Very well then. Shall I guess it?" Gandalf hummed. However he did not start to guess for the majority of the walk down, in fact Naniel and he continued until they were standing at the gates of Rivendell.
Gandalf gripped onto Naniels good shoulder in order to dismount and right himself, and Naniel watched as Shadowfax turned, unprompted or guided, for the stables. Gandalf made his way to the steps into Rivendell, limping and hobbling as he did. Naniel came up beside him and. wordlessly, Gandalf gripped onto his shoulder again.
"Naniel, my name is Naniel." Naniel whispered, as they stepped up the first stair.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Naniel," Gandalf whispered back, at the top of the stairs. Exhaustion flowed over Naniels body and he sagged in on himself, just as Lord Elrond turned the corner, robes flying as usual.
"Mithrandir, it is good you have finally arrived, he has not woken yet, but he is out of danger." Noticing Naniel, Elrond scowled. "Naniel, in my office now, you will wait for me, without touching anything!"
"Actually, my good Lord Elrond, I believe Naniel will be returning to his rooms, washing and sleeping. He had quite the climb." Gandalf said, softly. Naniel knew what was coming, no one interfered with Lord Elrond's instructions so boldly. Surprisingly, Elrond simply nodded.
"And only that." Elrond's cold eyes pinned him, daring his to disobey
"Yes sir," Naniel whispered, turning away. He barely made it to the door of his room before his knees began to shake.
Perhaps I overdid it today. He thought entering the room, it was still filled with the scent of the poultice on his arm from the morning. Thinking about his arm made the throbbing far more noticeable.
How does he expect me to wash when my arm is still this painful? Naniel thought as he kicked off his boots, cradling his wrapped arm. He wobbled towards the bed, falling onto his back, kicking himself up towards the pillow.
The last thing he noticed before closing his eyes, was the clean yellow tunic, and Elrohir's scent.
Finished and unedited, sorry