Feud

Chapter 45: Aderthannen [Reunited]

Legolas slept for an entire day and night, yet it was neither true sleep nor the deep repose of a healing trance. He scarcely drew breath, his eyes lay sheltered under lids gone thin and nearly blue as though bruised, a strange greyish sheen to the papery covers folded over the glassy orbs beneath. His jaw was slack, as was every other muscle of his body, and he was unresponsive even to treatment that ought to have ravaged him with torment. The pulse of his heart was sluggish and hesitant, reluctant to force the limited resources still in his veins through his body. He seemed more dead than living, so infrequent was his respiration and haphazard his circulation.

Fearfaron would not relinquish him once the wounds had been cleaned and dressed. The arrow wound was not serious, no vital organs having been punctured, but the leg injury was deep and resisted closing to such a degree that the healer had at last resorted to stitching. She used a strand of Legolas' hair to prevent his body from rejecting the unnatural knitting of the flesh. Realising the persistent coma was due the combination of blood loss, sorrow, and the long years of deprivation the normally sturdy elf had weathered, she felt the best medicine was Fearfaron's presence.

The carpenter held him, allowing none to enter the room but the healer, and depended on Lindalcon to enforce the demand. While that might have seemed strange confidence in a youth just nearing his majority, the elfling proved more than competent. He cleverly employed the human who had brought Legolas in, a most imposing figure with his battle-gory garments, hastily bandaged wounds, and a mighty sword at his side.

The Man strode back and forth between the wizard's rooms and the Tawarwaith's doorway, before which Lindalcon had dragged two chairs and set them on either side of the forbidden portal. Here orn orn and Lindalcon kept watch, trading stories of their times with Legolas. From him the young elf heard the telling of the battles Legolas had fought, Lindalcon listening in rapt attention, fascinated by the way the mortal's hand so often found its way to rest in perilous comfort upon the hilt of his sh ssh sword.

On the second day Legolas finally showed signs of reanimation and the carpenter rejoiced. His foster son yet was mostly unconscious, but became almost cognisant when the healer changed the bandaging on his thigh. With the awakening of his nervous system came the unfortunate escalation of discomfort, and Fearfaron was forced to rouse him enough to consume various restorative potions.

Long after Ithil's advent upon the night's horizon, the healer declared he had drifted closer to true healing repose. Legolas was during most of the next twelve hours completely unaware of his surroundings and remained hibernating in dreamless oblivion as his body tried to recover.

When he awoke the room was completely dark yet he was pleased to note the company of Fearfaron next to him on the bed, one hand wrapped comfortingly around his as the other carefully applied a cloth, dipped in water steeped with athelas, soothingly across his forehead. Legolas sighed and turned his head lazily toward his foster-father, gripping tightly to the carpenter's fingers as a vague sort of smile tried out his lips to see if they were amenable to such an expression.

"Fearfaron?" his voice was rather stringy and faint, but clear none the less.

"I am here, Legolas! You wake at last!"

"Has it been long?"

"Nay, I was just impatient."

"Fearfaron, I cannot see you; why is it so dark in here?"

Laughter owedowed this remark. "Legolas, you have your eyes closed! I do not think you are really awake yet! Sleep awhile more, I will watch over you!"

And Legolas did.

When next he returned to consciousness, he knew he was fully alert for the ache from his wounds was quite insistent and commanded his acknowledgement. He drew a tight breath through clenched jaws when he shifted on the mattress and aggravated the injury of his leg. He stifled a groan and lay still after that, prying open his eyes a sliver to take a look at his surroundings.

He was not in Fearfaron's talon and the elf was no where in the room with him. With sudden apprehension Legolas recognised the chambers where he had been taken for his recovery. He shoved himself into a sitting position, grunting against the flash of stabbing pain through his side and the burning fire of tearing muscle in his leg, but determined to get up.

He was in one of the many guest suites in Thranduil's stronghold.

Before he could drag his peculiarly lethargic limbs to the edge of the bedding and attempt to stand, the healer rushed out of a side door, no doubt the bathing chamber for she was carrying a pitcher and a stack of folded cloths. These she set aside on the floor and sed ted the archer from moving more, for already the bandage round his leg had a rapidly expanding crimson stain upon it.

"Nay! Mind what I say, Legolas, you are not ready to get out of this bed! Look, it is bleeding again already! Will you destroy the mending your body has managed thus far? You must lie back!" She leaned over and grabbed his shoulders round the back and gently but firmly half tugged, half pushed him until he was propped against the pillows at the head of the bed. She carefully lifted the injured leg and placed two more pillows beneath it, then proceeded to apply pressure to the bleeding wound.

The injured archer inhaled deeply and held the breath a few seconds; every muscle pulled taut under the sudden weight upon the damaged tissue, but did not cry out against the pain. He could tell there was no point in complaining to the healer, one glimpse of her firmly set jaw was sufficient indication that she considered him a difficult patient at best.

{No sympathy from that quarter!}

The decrease in blood flow helped reduce the insistence of the leg's flaring nerves and as the pain subsided his mind cleared; Legolas suddenly noticed his clothes were gone. At first he frantically tried to pull the covers over, but he was now mostly on top of them and it was hopeless. He sighed a long-suffering breath of resignation; she had probably seen him naked more often than anyone else anyway!

{Except Malthen.}

A shudder and a groan passed through him and he dropped his head back wearily on the pillows behind him, squeezing his eyes tight. He resisted the urge to press against the growing ache in his chest. He did not want to think about it, not now.

But the healer knew there was more to be repaired than sword gouges and arrow punctures. She removed one hand from the bloody thigh and settled the red-slicked fingertips securely over the locus of the older, more serious injury and softly massaged it for him. She remained as silent as the tears that traced silvery tracks upon his skin, spilling from the corners of his eyes, hurrying past his temples to linger at the barricade of his ears before slipping down into the stuffing of the pillow.

It took a few minutes for the flows, both vascular and lachrymal, to subside completely and then she had to cleanse the area, restitch the pulled skin back together, and apply a fresh dressing. Crafting the new join caused sufficient elevation of discomfort to return Legolas' attention to the external gashes and away from the internal rends. Legolas found he had ripped the fabric of the bedcovers during the ordeal.

With the torn muscle once more sealed, the healer took up a clean cloth and dipped the corner in the pitcher. Using the dampened rag, shpidlpidly applied it to the old scar, removing all traces of her touch.

Only after the healer had completed these necessary tasks could she be troubled to locate a light blanket. With a flourish she snapped it open and draped it demurely over Legolas' nudity, one hand lightly smoothing the fabric across his stomach, a bare whisper of contact, and the other tuckit wit with extravagant care around his hips. She held his gaze as she did this, presenting her patient a slightly exaggerated intensity within both her touch and her expression.

Legolas was certain her eyes were much merrier than the solemn duties of her profession called for, and that this amusement was at his expense. She was only teasing, and he smirked, wishing he had the strength to give her a shove in the shoulder with his toe. He watched her gather the pitcher and the towels from the floor and carry them to a side table where she set them out next to a basin. It seemed strange activity for a healer, as though she expected guests to come in, dusty and weary, wishing to refresh themselves. While her back was turned he used the opportunity to wipe away the moisture from his cheeks.

"What is your name?" the archer suddenly asked.

"My name?" she turned to him in surprise; few of her charges ever really wanted to know for they were generally in too much distress to care.

"I just think that I should know what to call the person who handles me in such a brazen fashion!"

"Oh, I see!" she laughed brightly, which had been his intent, and approached the bedside where she sat, drawing one leg up onto the mattress while the other remained on the floor. "I am Gladhadithen [Little Laugh]! Thank you for asking, but I will be quite surprised if you recall it once you are well and strong again!"

"I will not forget!" he insisted. He was reassured by her confidence that he would return to full health. "Will it be lo"
"

"Aye, I think so," she sighed as she nodded and reached up to squeeze his arm in encouragement. "Much depends on yoIf yIf you possess true desire to heal, I believe Fearfaron's care will make it so. The wizard seems as dedicated to your heart as he; and I sensed a deep connection between you when I touch there." Her hand drifted to let her fingers delicately follow the small outline of the soul-wound's scar.

She frowned slightly as the archer shuddered under this brief contact. Her curiosity had been aroused when she had first examined the old injury, and judged the state of his grieving far advanced. According to descriptions of such cases, he should have died of the malady some time ago.

"Legolas, this wound is worsened from the last time you were under my care, yet there are signs of attempts to strengthen you. How was this achieved? Was it Mithrandir?"

Legolas nodded and closed his eyes to shut out her penetrating gaze. These were things he did not wish to think about, to remember. He focused on his friends instead and changed the subject quickly.

"What has become of Fearfaron? Where is everyone else? Why have I been brought into the stronghold? Is Aragorn all right? Mithrandir had a very nasty leg wound also; how does he fare?"

"Peace! One question at a time!" Gladhadithen granted him the reprieve he so desired. She had no wish to disturb the small amount of repair the wizard had somehow affected, though she definitely had concerns regarding the methods he may have employed. She decided this was something she could discuss with Mithrandir and Fearfaron without involving Legolas in the conversation.

"You were brought here at my insistence! The Man said you had lost a great deal of blood, and a quick inspection of your nearly white gums confirmed this!

"The King could hardly protest in front of so many witnesses, for the arrival of the troops brought word of the battle. The news spread quickly and the courtyard was filled when you made your dramatic entrance! You are quite renowned among the warriors now!" She smiled lightly at the amazement this comment generated in his gaze. "In fact, Thranduil was very conciliatory and put all his resources at my disposal to aid you!"

If his countenance had held surprise before, Legolas was positively dumbfounded upon comprehending this remark.

"I can easily tell you of your friends," the physician continued. "The Man is healing rapidly for a mortal and sustained only minor flesh wounds. He has been up and about for two days and has come in to check on your progress when I allowed it. With Lindalcon, he guarded your door until last night, when Fearfaron convinced them that you would not be disturbed and sent him away for needed rest, and hopefully a thorough scrubbing and clean garments, also!

"I do not believe the human trusts my ability! Twice he has informed me that he was trained in healing by no less than Elrond Half-elven, as though that name carries any weight in these halls! The Man resides in the rooms next door, with Mithrandir." Gladhadithen noted the archer's abrupt loss of colour as she relayed this mention of the Man's connections, but made no comment.

"The wizard is as cantankerous and troublesome as always, and trying to direct his own treatment though he admits freely that he has absolutely no skills for healing whatsoever! Even the mortal has become irritated with the Istar's petulance over being bed-bound and refused to interfere when I forbade Mithrandir to get up. Despite my admonitions, I have twice caught him attempting to sneak out of his quarters, using his staff as a sort of crutch! Claimed he had urgent matters to attend and uttered that tired old threat about interfering in wizards' business!"
s des description of his two friends' activities brought a small but genuine smile to the Tawarwaith's face, exactly what she had hoped, and Gladhadithen continued her recitation in a less humourous vein.

"Fearfaron has been here beside you every single moment until just minutes ago. He has not slept, guarding you diligently and jealously, and might I say with some measure of trepidation. He does not like that you are here, wishing to remove you from the stress of unpleasant memories, no doubt."

"Aye, I have little desire to be under Thranduil's scrutiny either! But where is Fearfaron, Gladhadithen? You have made me uneasy for him!"

"Nay, do not be alarmed! He was called away, it is true, but not for any reason that would be harmful to him! Much has happened in the years you have been away, and Fearfaron has many friends on the Council! Thranduil will not dare to raise his hand against him now!"

"Thranduil need never strike to deal the severest of blows! And I have no trust in the Counsellors!"

"Legolas, hear me! I know not what the meeting is about, but the King and three of the Counsellors requested his presence. He did not look fearful, and even seemed almost triumphant when he left with Lindalcon! I did not tell you this to upset you, but to give you hope and encourage you to stay now that you have returned. You have allies among your people now."

The archer relaxed considerably on learning that Lindalcon was with his foster father. Surely no one would act against Fearfaron in the presence of an innocent. As for her suggestion of acceptance among the Woodland folk, he retained his scepticism.

"Fearfaron told me to send for him as soon as you wakened, and I will do so, yet I would have your word that you will not try to get out of this bed again until that wound closes completely! Otherwise, I will just let Fearfaron return when he is done, and face his wrath for not fulfilling his request! Somehow, when I explain the circumstances, I doubt he would be angry with me!" She smiled pleasantly at him but left no room for rebuttals or resistance to her demands.

Legolas did not mind; he felt comforted by her concern and her assurances of his foster-father's safety. He would do anything she asked to have the carpenter back by his side.

"I will obey!" he said with a half-smile.

Gladhadithen had no chance to reply for a sharp rap on the door interceded and she rose to admit the visitor. She exclaimed in annoyance when she met the wizard's bold stare and the sheepish gaze of the human behind him. It was upon Aragorn that she rested her disapproving glare.

"There was nothing I could do! He threatened to use his powers on me!" he declaimed with an uplift of his shoulders and an imploring expression upon his countenance.

"Stand aside, now, good healer!" admonished Gandalf, "For I am feeling the strain upon this knee and I am sure the laceration will reopen if I do not take my weight off it soon!"

"Mithrandir! Aragorn!" called Legolas, smiling, though he could not see them yet.

"Oh, by Nienna's tears, you are impossible!" she grumbled and stood aside to let him hobble in on the staff and his healthy leg. "You, drag that chair over here and I will get the footstool," she ordered the Ranger, and Aragorn did as she instructed, assisting the Maia to sit as Gladhadithen cautiously lifted his leg and propped it up against the support.

"Ah, that is better! I thank you, Gladhadithen!" Gandalf smiled warmly but she only scowled in return.

"Save your pleasantries, wizard, for I am not impressed! You have specifically disregarded my instructions for the third time! One would think you desired to remain a cripple!" she scolded as she rose from checking the binding over the torn knee.

"Oh, beware, Mithrandir, she will try to put a guard on your door next time!" joked Legolas. "It is good to see you both!" He smiled from one to the other; relieved his friends were safe, if not whole. He had kept his promise.

"Do not encourage him with levity, Legolas! I am the one who has been his keeper, thus she blames me when he misbehaves!" whined Aragorn. He felt very light-hearted to see the beleaguered elf again. After the intensity of the last several days and their constant companionship, the separation had felt keen, and both he and Mithrandir had remarked on how odd it seemed to be parted from him.

"Nonsense, I need no attendant to watch over me likeabe!abe!" the Istar fussed. "I know when I am ready to move about or not!"

"Never mind, it is useless for me to protest since you are already here!" Gladhadithen stated. "I am going to leave you three and go see about a light meal for Legolas. I will send word to Fearfaron that all of you miscreants are once more collected in the same location, and I will return in one hour! After that, Legolas must be aed ted to rest again!" the healer lectured them sternly and moved toward the door.

"Under no circumstances is Legolas to try to get out of that bed! The leg wound tore open again just moments ago. If he needs to empty his bla, fi, find a pot!" With that she left them, shutting the door as she exited the room with a final, warning glance at each one in turn.

"You have no idea how welcome is the sight of those bright eyes of yours, Legolas! It is a joy to find you awake and clear-minded!" Gandalf breathed out and reached to take the elf's offered hand, eager to forge the inner link between them. "Neither Fearfaron nor the healer would let me in here!"

"Aye, I am truly pleased to find you alert once more!" Aragorn concurred. "Gladhadithen would only allow me in for a bare ten minutes! I doubt that she believed me when I explained that I am a healer and you had been under my care up to now!" the Man complained as he carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

Aragorn pulled back the covers, revealing only the leg that was wounded, and critically eyed the bandage as if he could learn something about the progress of the mending just from that. Satisfied that Gladhadithen at least knew how to bind up a wound properly; he let the drape fall back against Legolas, yet still raised worried eyes to meet his friend's.

"That is far worse than you led us to believe out in the forest, Legolas!" he reproved gently.

"What would you have had me do?" the warrior demanded. "There really was no time to stop and give it a chance to heal up, Aragorn!"

"I know we were hard pressed, yet that you also withheld!" Gandalf admonished. "Why did you not inform us how serious the situation had become? Surely, those Orcs were trying to destroy, not to capture."

Legolas glared from one to the other in exasperation. "It served no purpose to tell you; that would only encourage you to argue with me about how to deal with it! My goal was clear, I knew the best way to proceed, and that is all there is to it!"

"Mayhap your desire was not the same as ours, then," intoned the mortal with a knowing look at the wizard. "I have had time to think on this and discussed it with Gandalf. You could have easily made it back to the stronghold unscathed, is that not truth?"

"My objective was to get you safely here, to keep you from being destroyed. How different could your goal have been, Aragorn? Our optionre lre limited; what more do you think I could have done?"

Legolas was frustrated. It mattered little what might have been possible; were they not here? They had already endured the conflict; there was no need to create more between the three of them.

"Would it not have been better for all to arrive unscathed?" Aragorn pressed on softly. "I fear you chose a path that put you in the most harm rather than the least."

Now the archer stared blankly at his human friend. Was he questioning Legolas' commitment to the oaths he had spoken? {He thinks I deliberately put them in danger in order to kill Orcs!}

"Nay!" the wizard almost jumped as these thoughts flared through his mind. "That is not it! Aragorn is chastising you for taking the vows too far! As am I! If you had explained some of these things to us, perhaps we could have devised another means to break away and spared you some injury!"

"Nay, Gandalf, that is not it either!" said Aragorn in aggravation. "I am trying to apologise for putting Legolas in such a dire situation! Had we listened to his counsel initially we would have made different choices! We inadvertently allowed time for the foreign Orcs to draw closer. That was the nature of the trap the Shadow hoped to spring!

"Had we honed in on the Central Mountains initially, we would have faced less formidable numbers. Once we passed beyond that decimated village, I think our fate was sealed and Legolas did all that could be done to lessen the severity of the battle we enjoined."

The Woodland warrior smiled in appreciation and nodded. "Although, I was quite happy to have the opportunity to dispatch so many of the disgusting beasts! During the night battle, the foreign ones succumbed to the traps easily!"

"Then however did you end up getting pierced by a blade so deeply and in such a difficult location?" Aragorn was curious, for the injury had cut into a large vein. A human would have bled to death from such a wound.

"I was forced to use some trees no longer free of the Shadow." The Tawarwaith grimaced in sudden rage. That had mos most alarming, the speed with which those Orcs had swept into the area, surrounding him. He had not expected it and had no time to go to ground and seek unblemished trees. "They are known to willingly sunder their branches and drop elves down in the midst of an Orc horde, and this time I could not avoid landing on one of the disgusting demons! Unfortunately, it attempted to dislodge me with its blade. That was a most unpleasant fight; the closest I have had with Orcs in a long time!"

Before they could continue the discussion, the door opened and Fearfaron entered, eyes gleaming with happiness, and he went straight to the bed, virtually shoving Arn asn aside in his haste to climb up and gather Legolas close to him.

Neither elf spoke and Legolas allowed his foster father to carefully lift him as he slid next to him, cradling the injured warrior iousiously against his chest as strong arms formed a protective encirclement. Legolas released his hold on Mithrandir's hand and wrapped his arms loosely around Fearfaron's neck, resting his head on the carpenter's shoulder with a deep sigh of comfort and joy as he closed his eyes.

The man and the Maia smiled indulgently and Aragorn moved to Gandalf's side.

"I think you should return to your bed, Old One," he said and helped the wizard up.

"Yes, I doubt they will even realise we have left!" chuckled Gandalf. "I am hungry; did that healer say something or other about food?"

With a grin the human opened the door and escorted the Istar from the chamber as Lindalcon came down the hall with a very large tray laden with food enough for five hungry elflings.

This he took into the wizard's room, taking up only what the healer had orderer Ler Legolas and a suitable portion for the carpenter, which he carried to the archer's chamber and set on a table. Not wanting to disturb the two elves, he suppressed his wish to speak with Legolas and quietly left to join the wizard and the Man, closing the door soundlessly in his wake.

"I have missed you; I have needed you!" Legolas tightened his hold on his foster father. "Fearfaron!" The archer took a deep breath to steady his trembling but it broke from his lungs as an anguished sob and he could not stop the misery from overwhelming him as he fought to speak of the horrible truth. "Malthen…" He could not say more; grief stifled his words.

The carpenter squeezed him fiercely, for he could not bear for Legolas to be so distraught. The mere mention of this hated elf's pet name made his bile rise. He tried to console Legolas by rubbing his back, but the tearing cries did not abate.

"What has one?one? Tell me! Already I have much to hold him accountable for; his betrayal of your youthful trust is as black an act as any I have known among elf-kind!" he hissed venomously.

"Malthen and my mother," Legolas began again in choked and disjointed speech punctuated with his desperate attempts to draw air. How he longed for the instantus cus connection he was able to use with the wizard!

"Valar!" Fearfaron swore and gnashed his teeth, for these few words were more than sufficient. His adopted child's defeated voice supplied the rest of the narrative. "How have you come to this knowledge?" he demanded, still angry that anyone had dared reveal this ugly truth and its bitter possibility to one already so beset by despair and troubles.

"Erestor of Imladris. You knew?"

"That despicable coward!"

Legolas could not tell whether he meant Erestor or Malthen.

"Ah, Legolas! He confessed to me after I confronted him. That was right after Ningloriel left." He felt Legolas stir and helped him sit up a little so he could look into his eyes. The carpenter flinched to see he had just dealt the archer yet another blow.

"What? He did not go with her?"

"Nay! The selfish creature had some further designs upon you, which Mithrandir and I put a stop to at once! He is here, Legolas; he rode in with Talagan's troops, for it is they which came to your aid in battle."

Legolas writhed in the carpenter's arms as the first wave of agony hit him, spreading out from the old wound, and he howled against it. His thrashing did no good to the leg injury and Fearfaron clutched him tighter to still the flailing limbs.

"Nay! I thought he was in the Undying Lands! Why is he here? I want him gone! I want him dead! Oh, Fearfaron! I want him!"

"Peace, Legolas, you must lie quiet! The injury is bleeding again! Be still!" In vain did the carpenter struggle to hold him down. Fearfaron's alarm grew, as the wild elf's cries became harsher until his words were completely transformed into incoherent screams and the grieving took hold with new malignancy.

The door banged open and Aragorn sped to the bed, Lindalcon behind him. The young elf froze in horror at the sight of Legolas in the throes of such extreme duress, staring at the bloody red blotch rapidly soiling the covers.

"Go and fetch the healer!" snapped Aragorn and shoved the young elf out the door, nearly knocking over Gandalf who was laboriously struggling to reach the Wolf'lf's side. The mortal wasted no time but grabbed Legolas' injured leg and pulled it tight as he climbed up on the bed and landed the weight of his bulk on the limb. He yanked the tangled blanket back and pressed the heel of his hand down against the pulsing flow.

Legolas tensed and drew a sharp breath, stiffening against the pressure and the pain, in an all too familiar prelude to the next attack of the malady. The spasm that rocked his frame was severe enough to give the mortal a jolt where he straddled the torn leg, but the scream in Legolas' lungs never left his throat. Mercifully, his body was far beyond any means to endure such horrendous agony. A great rush of air sped past his lips as his eyes rolled back and he became limp and lifeless in Fearfaron's embrace.
Tbc