Creature Comforts

Chapter 11


It has been days since the fellowship broke apart and
already we have slain many hundreds of orc parties we have met along our
travels. As we have drawn nearer to Isengard and Rohan the orc battles have
grown more frequent. Today has been particularly harsher than any before.
Uruk-hai ambushed us quite unexpectedly this morning along the path west and we
had to fight for our lives. Fortunately we are mostly unharmed but old injuries
are beginning to build upon new ones and we are suffering silently in pain. On
my own instincts we are heading towards Rohan the western city of men. If we
reach the city we may rest for a while in safety and hear what news they have
of Isengard. We may also gather followers in our quest to save the little ones.
It is becoming dark and I am weary, we should make camp soon. In front I can
see the dull glow of Legolas’ mane of hair as he moves stealthfully between the
trees, scouting ahead. He has hardly stopped, constantly taking double watches
at night and some times not even waking Gimli and myself for our watch at all.
I sigh and call ahead to Legolas, already feeling my own strength diminish as
the remaining glow of the day begins to darken.

 

“Legolas we must set up camp.” My voice carries with the
cold chilling breeze of the night air and I pause and watch as Legolas stops
and pokes his head back around the trunk of a tree to stare at me.

 

“Very well I can hear a stream ahead there may be some place
there that we may rest tonight with fresh water with which to replenish
ourselves.” His voice is no more than a whisper as it reaches us the wind
ha tak taken it in the opposite direction from which it was intended. I nod at
Gimli and we continue to follow Legolas’ figure down the unworn track. As predicted a short way down the track we
stumble along a small stream. Its waters are crystal clear seemingly unsoiled
by the foul evil that has polluted the land around it. Across the other side of
the water Legolas is already searching out a small overhanging rock formation.
Weary of the water I bend down to test it for sorcery of some kind but am
stopped by Legolas’ voice from its bank. “It is untouched by anything but
nature, cool to lips and soothing to the tongue. I have already tried it.”
Glancing up from my scrutiny of the water I h ash as Legolas sets out his
blanket just under the overhang and sits carefully down upon it. Gimli grunts
his approval and steps across the stones to join Legolas on the other side
before hastily dropping his things and wandering off nearby to collect
firewood. Quietly I join the others on the opposite side of the bank.

 

Taking the opportunity of fresh water, after settling my
things, I move to the stream’s bank and begin filling our water skins. I can
feel Legolas staring at me, as he sits passively uninterested by everything as
Gimli lights a small fire and stows some firewood under the overhang to save
collecting more during the unsafe night. Despite my best efforts to maintain
the health of my companions during our journey, Legolas has become unnaturally
thin and pale. The glow of youthful health has slowly dulled from him to
nothing, so that he appears to be nothing more than a common lost warrior
rather than the Princeling he is. While he still fights with the strength of
manves,ves, it is depreciating as quickly as his health. He is still troubled
by the losses he has incurred although showing no outward suffering and it
worries me that he looks more lifeless than those bodies we slay. His hair is
caked with dirt and he has long given up braiding it and instead has it
constantly tied up with a length of lace from one of his torn tunics. What is
mconcconcerning than anything is that his weapons are unkempt, quite unnatural for
any elf more war warrior who relies on his weapons for his life. To me this
only suggests one thing and that is that the Prince of Mirkwood has lost value
in his own life and is not concerned if he lives or dies.

 

Gimli arrives back with some more firewood and after
lighting it for me I instruct him to bathe and cleanse himself in the str whi while I begin our evening meal. The food we brought with us has long gone and
now we rely on my ability to find food from the wild. If at any point I see a
possible meal along our daily treks I will purposefully stop and collect it,
for food is becoming scarce to find as we draw closer to the desecration that
encircles Isengard. Tonight we are having mushrooms in a sauce I have compiled
together with some revitalising herbs for our health as well as a flat sort of
bread made from the bark of a tree and the few ears of wheat I stocked up on
from the last deserted village we passed through. Gimli had the luck of finding
wild berries hidden from destdestruction of the land by an old stonewall so we
shall be eating in relative luxury this evening. Once the evening meal is
slowly warming over the fire I make my own way down to the stream. A little
further down stream I can hear Gimli singing to himself as he bathes and I take
the opportunity to join him. It has been so long since I felt truly clean. The
thick sticky glug of the orc’s foul blood soils everything I own and these
small found sanctuaries are most welcome to wash some of the foulness away. The
continued closeness of Gimli and I provides no awkwardness as we both bathe
naked side by side. We are too travel weary, to worry about formalities and
embarrassment as we cleanse thoroughly.

 

“I pray for a hot bath when we reach Rohan, my bones ache
lfracfractures in the stone hall of Moria.” I nod wistfully at Gimli’s prayer I
too suffering from an ache deep within my bones before we fall back into the
concentration of scouring ourselves of the filth of the road.

 

Once clean I step to the bank and pull on my leggings before
inspecting my own wounds. There are a few that have become infected but with
continued applications of herbs they should clear. Bruises taint my skin like
dark thunderclouds and some severe enough to have turned a sickly yellow/green.
They are what hurt the most but there is no healing herb for them accept rest.
Gimli finishes combing his beared with a small silver brush he has kept in his
pack, while I inspect his wounds for him. He is relatively unharmed, the worst
pain from blisters obtained by worn out boots. Once we are suitably feeling
fresh again Gimli moves to go back to camp but I place a hand on his shoulder
to stop him. I must have some time alone with Legolas to insure his health for
the rest of the journey if nothing else and there is no time like the present.
Gimli looks at me confused as I lower my voice and gesture towards where the
fire is providing a shadow glow against the roof of the overhang, where Legolas
sits.

 

“I must see the elf alone. You have seen his health as I
have, he is not well and I must rectify this before we go on. He will not last
another day if his wounds not not cleaned and his hunger attended too.” Gimli
nods sternly in understanding at my observation of Legolas and grumbles a small
curse at the elf’s supposed stubbornness. It is ironic really a dwarf
complaining of the stubbornness of elves but I let it pass as Gimli passes me
the small silver comb he has kept religiously close to him throughout our
journey.


”Very well stay here, and I shall tell him you wish to speak with him. I will
keep the meal warm for your return, if you should only brush his hair back into
the beauty it was when we first left Rivendell. A pretty creature like the
prince should not have mattered hair.” I smile fondly at Gimli’s innocent request,
his attachment to Legolas growing to one of deep friendship despite their shaky
beginning.

 

“I shall try. Thank-you Gimli.” Gimli grunts his approval
and turns on his heel following the streams edge back to our small encampment.
Cautious of the task ahead I consciously leave my clean clothes lying on the
safety of a rock nearby and just leave my leggings on. If Legolas does not do
this willingly then it will be in my power to force it upon him for the sake of
his own health. It is not long before the soft pad of feet behind me alert me
to Legolas presence and I glance up at him from where I am sitting on a flat
rock beside the stream.


”You wish to speak with me Aragorn?” I smile as warmly as possible longing for
it to be reciprocated by the elf. As usual however it is met with the same
passive glaze of Legolas’ features and I sigh inwardly. It is dark already and
the moonlight provides a soft lighting for the creature before me. It is
nothing compared to his once radiant glow but it is enough to renew a sense of
purpose in my actions.

 

“I do but you must bathe first so I may inspect your
wounds.” There is a clinical tone to my voice that I did not mean to be there
but from years of playing a healer to many souls I could not help it. For a
moment he stares at me and I raise an eyebrow at him sternly much like I
imagine Elrond would do to him. Legolas looks away from me, this task will not
be easy.

 

“I have not the strength to bathe tonight. I am tired and my
wounds will heal with rest, or have you forgotten Ranger, that I am an elf.”
The snide remark that drips from, the end of his reply is most disturbing but
non-the less I stand from my seated position to come face to face with the
stubborn elf before me.

 

“You will do as I say Legolas. These wounds are not healing
as they should, this one already four days old and infected.” Reaching up I
roughly turn his face back to mine and run my finger cruelly along the deep
gash that runs from his cheek into his hairline above his ear. I know it must
be painful for him but it is in aid of making a point. Despite his usually calm
resolve he finches away under my contact his eyes momentarily closing in pain
of the touch. He remains quiet however and pulls his face from my hold to look
away again from my face. Inwardly I sigh before taking a softer tact. “If you
are weak I shall help you, there is no shame in a warrior receiving help from a
friend. But you must take the opportunity to clean yourself, for an opportunity
may not arise again until we have reached Rohan.” For a moment he remains quiet
before he turns to me a ghostly swell of sadness flashing in his unforgiving
eyes as he stares straight through me.

 

“What is the point. I have fallen into the same hole as my
father has. I am not the warrior you speak of, instead I am a mere boy just out
of his minority fighting among men and pretending to be as they are. Do you not understand Aragorn that I have
nothing to return to when this over.” The words he spoke to me on the edge of
the river when the fellowship broke come quickly back to haunt me, only this
time they are spoken with a sadness of a bleeding soul. “I have allowed the great Gandalf the Grey
to slip into shadow without trying to protect him. The steward of Gondor
protected my honour by sanctioning my lies to my father only for me to repay
him by my lack of attention in his hour of need. The fellowship has broken and
Frodo is alone without safety on his quest like I promised him. I have been
made to give up my lover for the sake of tradition and I have been rejected
from my homeland and have disgraced my own father to the point at which he will
not recognise me as a son. No Aragorn you do not understand.” I watch as he
shakes his head at me tears just gracing the surface of his eyes, as he looks
heavenward to the stars twinkling brightly in the sky above. “I will not return
in glory as you will to your pretty prize, to be praised and crowned the
rightful king of Gondor for all to see. I will return in failure to a land that
does not recognize me as anything else but a traitor. I once wore a crown and
had Elrond’s favour long before you were even born but I have lost both those
things, just as quickly as you will obtain them upon your return.” I swallow
hard as Legolas turns his gaze back upon me his eyes burning with sorrow. “No I
will not bathe for anyone, the filth that I bear fits the soiled feeling inside
of me. I will not bathe at all.” I understand now the pain of failure he feels
and I know it runs too deep to be ever fully resolved. He turns to leave and I
allow him to wander a few steps away from me before I see him falter and
stumble on the rocks. In slow motion I see him fall forward in an ungraceful
tangle of weak limbs quite unnatural for an elf.

 

“Legolas!” I call to him and run to his aid just in time to
soften the impact of his body upon the hard ground. He is having trouble
breathing and I lie him softly against my lap as I hastily unlace his torn
tunic and inspect the substantially large weeping wound that streaks blood down
his side. It is infected and I clench my fists in rage that he had not told me
of it’s severity when it first happened. “You WILL cleanse yourself elf. Or I
shall force you to do it. You are worth less to us injured than you are
unhealthy sorry for yourself but clean!” I growl at him unable to suppress my
anger as I easily lift his weight in my arms and walk him ungracefully to the
edge of the stream. I see the fear in his eyes as I hold him out at arms length
and loosen my grip upon him ready to drop him into the water. He scrabbles in
my arms almost afraid of me dropping him into the babbling stream. “Will you do
as I say? Or do I force this upon you, for your own good!”

 

“I do, I do I will bathe if only that you let me enter the
water on my own. My wounds are deep and the water is cold enough to sting more
than they already do.” Panic floods Legolas features as he clutches to my arms
desperately. I smile a small smirk of success and I reluctantly lower Legolas
to his feet on the edge of the stream. It is true I have frightened him with my
threa sea searing pain that the cold water would bring to his wounds should I
drop him in.

 

“Good choice Prince Legolas, now do as I ask and quickly.
Gimli is keeping our meal warm and I am famished.” I stand with my arms crossed
patiently waiting for Legolas to begin undressing however he just lowers his
head and blushes lightly.

 

“Must you watch me so? If I must bathe let me do so alone.”
I sigh heavily, reluctant to leave incase Legolas changes his mind about the
bath but from his stance I believe I have sufficiently scared him enough with
my anger for him not to obey my command.

 

“Fine, but I will tend to your wounds when you come back to
camp so I expect them to be thoroughly clean of filth.” I watch as he nods
passively and turns to sit awkwardly upon the edge of the stream. For a few
moments I remain standing watching him as he struggles with his clothes before
reluctantly turning back towards the overhang and leaving him to it. I am
satisfied that I will obtained some semblance of order in Legolas health as
well as having been allowed to hear what troubles his soul so deeply. Our
journey is far from over but I am content in the knowledge that if need be I
can make Legolas realise his stupidity and revitalise his will to go on even if
he is not aware of it.

TBC……………………..