Canines and Arachnids

Canines and Arachnids
Part 7


“The sun has been up for nearly an hour!” Orophin called, sticking his head into the tent to yell at his elder brother. He went still, his brows furrowing as he sniffed the air, the scent of a coupling hanging heavy in the enclosed space. Green eyes went wide. “You… Elrond…”

Haldir growled and hurled a pillow at him one armed. His younger brother dodged the projectile and ran back outside, chatting softly and swiftly with Rúmil. Hysterical laughter followed whatever it was he had said. Haldir pinched the bridge of his nose. They’d never let him live this down. He stalked out of the tent, ready to teis bis brothers a new one. The only reason they survived was that he decided to drop the matter if only to spare himself the embarrassment that facing the facts would entail.

“How are the preparations for departure proceeding?” he asked, moving to a completely different subject. His brothers allowed themselves to be deterred from their humor.

“We’ve constructed a litter for Legolas,” Rúmil said. “The twins are up and about for a li whi while, if extremely tired. For lack of a better way to describe it, Glorfindel looks like he’s been eating wild, colorful mushrooms. He keeps muttering to himself and walking into trees. It’s actually kind of fun to watch.”

“Legolas was awake for a few minutes,” Orophin reported. “He immediately latched onto Elrohir and Glorfindel again to try to heal his abdomen further. Needless to say, they’re all three unconscious again. Though Legolas’ stomach does look much better. I don’t know what he’s doing or how he’s doing it, but if he continues on along this pattern he’s established, we won’t need that litter for long.”

“Elladan staggered off into the trees a little while ago,” Rúmil continued. “I think he’s searching for breakfast, but I can’t be sure. He may just be mad at us still.”

Haldir nodded and glanced around. “Where did he go? I think I’ll go looking for him. He’s in no state to be wandering around on his own.”

“That way,” Orophin said, pointing south.

Nodding, Haldir straightened his clothes and attached his sword, bow and quiver to himself before setting out on one of the few horses they still had. If he were out and about, he would then be unavailable for taunting. He followed the occasional footprint or snapped twig on a random brush, certain he could find the raven wolf.

* * *

Elladan had fled the encampment the moment he was awake, disliking the scrutiny he was under and simply wanting to be alone for a time. Several times, he had spotted minor game as he loped along and had twice made pitiful attempts to catch something to ease his roiling stomach. Without the help of his two werewolf colleagues, it was indefinitely more difficult and he was having little luck latching onto any sort of prey.

Bored with the concept of hunting, he gave one last chase, leaping into the air to snap at a squirrel that was scampering up the trunk of a large redwood. He was amazed when he felt his jaws contact the small furry form, sinking his teeth reflexively into his capture. After eyeing the small creature for awhile, he decided that it was worth at least a meager picking over and started nibbling at the fluffy rodent. There was very little meat on the creature, but it had a sharp gamy flavor that he decided that he liked and he set about stripping the meager amount of meat from his first unaided kill.

He was still picking over the tentative remains of the rodent when he heard hooves approaching. Pulling back, he eyed the approaching elf, relieved that it was Haldir and not someone who wouldn’t recognize him. Still unable to speak, he grunted in greeting.

“Hello to you too,” Haldir responded, eyeing the pile of bones and skin that had been Elladan’s most recent meal. He arched one eyebrow. “A squirrel? I thought you’d be able to do better than that.”

Unable to respond verbally, Elladan flattened his ears and let loose a growl, causing the March Warden to chuckle. The silver elf dismounted and tentatively approached the elf turned wolf.

“If you’d like, I can help you corner something for your breakfast,” Haldir offered companionably.

Elladan’s ears flicked forward curiously as he tried to decipher why the March Warden was attempting to befriend him. He narrowed it down to guilt over his brothers’ conversation or to the fact that he was bound to his father and would likely be spending much more time with them. Interested in the offer, he nodded and pointed one forelimb to Haldir’s steed and then to a tree, indicating that the silver elf was to leave his mount behind if he was going to hunt with him. The horse would be skittish around a wolf and scare off any possible game.

Amazed that the elder of the twins had accepted his offer, Haldir swung down and tethered the horse to a tree. When he turned back to Elladan, he found the wolf already trotting away, forcing him to jog briefly to catch up with the raven form. Once beside the werewolf, he still had to maintain a fairly brisk pace, the twin surprisingly quick on his feet without even trying. He slowed down a little when he saw Haldir’s difficulty in keeping up with him.

Haldir was slow because he was too busy watching the werewolf to pay attention to where he was going, resulting in bumping into several trees and nearly tripping on a few errant roots. After his sixth stumble, Elladan came to a halt and gave the March Warden a scathing look.

*What?* Elladan asked in irritation. Haldir seemed to understand the question even though he couldn’t hear it.

“I was simply wondering why it is that your brother and Legolas can change between forms when you cannot,” Haldir said bluntly. Elladan flinched.

*I don’t know. Maybe it takes time. Maybe I just can’t.*

Haldir frowned, not hearing a word. “Come here,” he ordered, moving to a region of earth lacking grass and plunking down near it. He snagged Elladan’s front leg and pushed it towards the bared dirt. “If you can’t speak, then write.”

Elladan blinked at the obvious solution and tried to curl his paw so that only one claw was prominent. He looked up at the silver elf in question of what he wanted to know. The March Warden was quick to speak up.

“Why can you not shift back?” Haldir pressed.

*I don’t know,* Elladan scratched into the earth. Frowning, Haldir swept his hand across the dirt to soothe it so he could ask another question.

“Have you tried?”

*Yes.*

“Were Legolas and Elrohir assisting you?”

*Yes.*

“So do you understand the basic principle behind the action?” Haldir wheedled.

*Mostly. I latch onto my very soul and pull it into whatever alignment I wish.*

Haldir paused, considering. “Why have you not succeeded then?”

*It may be too early,* Elladan scribbled.

“Maybe,” Haldir mused. He’d been discussing the particulars of the ailment with Elrond for the short time he’d been awake that morning, the poisoned elf lord barely lucid. “Do you know enough to try it without the other two?” Elladan didn’t bother writing anything, merely nodding his head in answer. “Try. I want to see something.”

Huffing a snorting sigh, the elder twin did as he was bid, pulling at the intrinsic thrum of life that sang through his altered body, willing himself to be as he once was. As before, silvery light sparkled across his fur, but nothing happened. He was shocked out of his wits when Haldir suddenly leaned over and slugged him in the ribs. Crying ohe rhe rocked onto his side and curled into a ball.

“What was that for?!?” Elladan roared. He went very still, drawing his arms away from his aching ribs to stare blankly at his newly formed hands and furless arms. “What in all of Arda…”

“I knew it!” Haldir crowed. “You were so distracted by your predicament that you were fighting the very solution.”

“And you provided a distraction at the proper moment to allow me to revert,” Elladan mused darkly. He glanced up at the silver elf. “You do know that I’m still going to have to kick your ass for that?”

“Even if I provide you something to wear so you don’t have to trek back into camp in your birthday suit?” Haldir smirked. Elladan’s eyes narrowed even as he took the proffered cloak from the silver March Warden and pulled it on.

“Why are you so helpful all of a sudden?” he asked suspiciously. Haldir shrugged.

“I guess that I’m just feeling a little guilty that my brother’s loose tongue almost caused you to fade,” he said bluntly, never one to hash words.

*He and my father are going to rip each other apart,* Elladan thought. Blunt, rude Haldir and his soft-spoken, diplomatic father. Add a wicked-minded Glorfindel and his rather perverse sense of humor and it was a disaster. They wouldn’t last a week. He had scented what the pair had done together, deciding that his father had only given in because he was poisoned senseless. Once awake, he was certain that they’d resume their bickering.

“I’m going to check on the others,” Elladan said, turning away from hunting with the pompous elf. He started to walk away, pondering whether or not he should attempt to drop into lupine form as he had seen Legolas and his twin do so many times. After only a few steps, he decided against the endeavor since he’d gone to so much to return to his original form as it was.

“They’re all asleep,” Haldir said to his back. Elladan shrugged one shoulder in answer, not bothering with a verbal response. The silver elf shook his head at the younger elf’s stubbornness. “Knock yourself out, then.”

Ignoring the March Warden’s taunt in the form of a bad pun, as he saw it, he picked his way back, circumventing the camp twice before entering. If the remaining four members of his party truly were asleep, he’d have to face the two Lothlórien elves alone and he wasn’t overly fond of them. When hewokewoken, they had apologized profusely for their careless tongues, but he wasn’t ready to forgive them yet.

Haldir still hadn’t returned when he finally decided to make his presence known. He was stunned to see his father awake and leaning weakly against one of the brothers, Rúmil he thought, while Orophin attempted to get him to drink something from a flask. Still suffering from the effect of spider venom, he didn’t have the finest control of his limbs and occasionally tried to reach for the flask or push himself fully upright, the resulting movements dismal at best. After watching for a mere few seconds, he was witness to Elrond inadvertently slapping his arm against Rúmil and Orophin both.

Busy with their clumsy charge, neither silver elf noticed Elladan’s return. Elrond, however, did. And as a result, he ended up spitting a mouthful of water onto a decidedly vexed Orophin. Knowing how ridiculous he looked mostly naked with only a borrowed cloak clutched to his frame to hide himself, Elladan couldn’t help a small smile at the stunned look on his father’s face.

“Hello, ada,” Elladan said softly. The two silver elves jumped at hearing his voice, both having thought he was elsewhere. Orophin dropped the flask of water in his surprise, the liquid landing in Rúmil’s lap, making him look like he had wet himself.

“Looks like Haldir found you,” Rúmil said sourly, picking at his wet leggings. He glanced around for something to sop up the water. “Where is he, anyways?”

“I don’t know,” Eln shn shrugged.

“How can you not know? You have his cloak!” Rúmil huffed.

“What am I? His keeper?” the elder twin asked, annoyed. “You want him so badly, go find him.”

Grumbling, Orophin got up to do just that, leaving Elladan to take his place beside Elrond while he searched for his older brother. Rúmil pressed the elf lord into his son’s hands so he could join the search. Elrond didn’t notice either silver elf leave, his eyes fixed desperately on his son, relieved tears wetting his eyes.

“How?” he asked breathlessly. Elladan embraced him reassuringly, trying to support most of his weight.

“We were just trying too hard before,” Elladan answered, leaning his forehead to rest against his father’s. “I’m okay now.” Elrond sagged against him, relieved that the nightmare was over for his son. “How are Legolas and Glorfindel this morning, ada?” He didn’t bother to ask about his twin, his innate connection allowing him to know that his other half was simply sleeping.

“Glorfindel is asleep. Legolas… is still injured and is very weak,” Elrond sighed.

“What about you, ada?” Elladan wheedled.

“Groggy,” Elrond admitted ruefully. “Very stiff and uncoordinated.” Elladan nodded.

“Will you be alright for a moment so I could check on Legolas?” Elladan asked tentatively.

“No,” Elrond said sharply. “I want you to take me in there with you. I want to check on my patient.”

“I’d actually appreciate that,” Elladan admitted. “Do you need help?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Elrond admitted somewhat embarrassedly, diverting his gaze. Had he been a full-blooded elf, he’d had have already recovered from the poisoning. His human heritage had been a source of constant irritation to him ever since the March Wardens arrived and startled hassling him about it.

Elladan instantly looped one arm across his father’s uppack ack and helped haul him to his feet, supporting most of his weight as they started towards the tent containing Legolas’ downed form. Even if he hadbeenbeen able to smell the Mirkwood prince from afar, he knew the blond wasn’t in his own tent or in the one where Elrond and Haldir had had their tryst. That left but only one choice. Half carrying his father, he moved to check in on the previously mortally wounded elf prince.

Legolas was still very pale, lying motionless under every spare blanket and cloak they had managed to rustle up. Sensing them enter, he cracked one eye open and managed a ghastly smile. Elrond pushed Elladan away and staggered over to his patient, checking his vitals reflexively before turning his attention to the massive abdominal wound he had taken.

Pushing aside the various coverings, ranging from blankets to cloaks to his own triple layer of shirts and vests, Elrond finally uncovered the lacerated region of the disembowelment. Preliminary attempts at closing the surface skin had been made, but his gut was still greatly mutilated within and felt strangely hollow to the touch. The elf lord was fairly sure the blond could regenerate the decimated organs if he only had the strength left, which he did not by far. To make matters worse, he was linked to three other elves, leaving his mind in a permanently dazed condition.

“Elrohir?” Legolas asked groggily, eyes fixed on the mistaken twin. As far as he knew, Elladan was still trapped as a wolf.

“Nay, Legolas,” he corrected gently. “It is I, Elladan.”

Legolas came fully awake at that, ignoring Elrond probing somewhat painfully at his shredded abdomen.

“E-elladan?” he stuttered. “But how?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Elladan told him. “All that’s important is that I’ve figured it out.” He paused, unsure how to word his next line. He decided to be blunt. “You’re still hurt, Legolas. Draw on me and heal yourself.”

“I cannot!” Legolas protested. “You were nearly dead last night!”

“So were you! And I am well now while you are not,” Elladan pressed. “Please try to help yourself. It will not hurt me to sleep for a time.” Seeing the reluctance in the blonde’s eyes, he pressed on. “I’ve even eaten this morning. I went hunting on my own! Only caught something small, but I ate and I feel much better now for it.” His exuberance made Legolas grin a bit.

Legolas sighed but capitulated. Very slowly and gently, he began to draw energy from Elladan, watching avidly for signs of fatigue. Seeing none, he pulled further, sending his newfound strength to his abdomen where he continued to correct any and all flaws in his flesh. He discontinued his efforts when Elladan began to sag. Elrond swore luridly.

“What is it?” Legolas queried.

“You were almost there!” the healer half-shouted, irritated that his patient was so close to recovery but still denied his health.

Seeing his frustration, Legolas lashed out towards his other two sources. Groans could be heard from the tents containing Glorfindel and Elrohir as he drained what little remained of their strength. Their combined efforts paid of, the gaping wound in Legolas abdomen finally shutting entirely, the covering skin looking bright pink and very tender.

Hopeful, Elrond gingerly explored the newly healed region, earning himself several gasps of pain as tender areas were palpated. After a bit, he seemed satisfied and moved back, a small grin on his features.

“Well?” Elladan was the first to ask.

“He seems healthy, if exhausted,” Elrond intoned automatically. “I’d suggest some protein rich meals and a lot of fluids.”

“I think I can handle that,” Legolas answered wryly, lips twitching into a smirk. He started to roll to his feet when both Elrond and Elladan pushed him back down.

“We’ll provide what you require,” Elrond promised, willing to do almost anything to keep the injured blond from moving.

“I’ll see how I can manage hunting if ada can provide the water,” Elladan offered.

“Fair enough,” Elrond conceded, trying to leave Legolas entirely out of the argument. He turned to his son worriedly. “But are you certain that you’re up to hunting… in such a fashion?”

In answer, Elladan shucked Haldir’s cloak and leapt forward, praying to the Valar that he wasn’t about to look like a total moron and fall flat on his face. Tensing, he willed his form to shift, gasping aloud when he felt liquid fire course through his veins. From one step to the next, he went from standing on two legs to staggering around on all fours.

*I will return shortly with food,* Elladan promised Legolas. *I will even try not to use my mouth so the others won’t get too worked up.*

*I don’t think it’s still contagious that way, anyways,* Legolas mused.

*We have no proof either way, so I might as well err on the side of caution.*

There was a long pause. *You know, you sound just like your father.*

*Keep saying that see see if you get fed,* Elladan groused, loping for the trees.

Dead tired, Elrond waited until his oldest son vanished from sight before flopping down to rest beside Legolas. He looked at the blond out of the corner of his eye.

“How do you think he’ll do?” Elrond asked.

“Are you betting against your own son?” Legolas returned, arching an eyebrow in a mockery of the look that Elrond usually gave them.

“Forget I asked,” he muttered. He reminded himself that he was dealing with Mirkwood’s foremost troublemaker and prankster. If Legolas didn’t deem it necessary to give an answer, pursuing the matter would only earn him a headache, countless taunts and no relevant information. He closed his eyes to go to sleep, his half elfin stature making it possible for him to sleep with them open or shut, however he wished at any given time. He was almost asleep when he heard Legolas’ sleepy voice.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay awake?” the archer asked.

“Probably,” Elrond conceded.

“Thanks for volunteering,” Legolas said mischievously.

“What?” Elrond said, eyes popping open. “When did I volunteer, exactly?” He looked at the blond with no small amount of irritation, grumbling improbably comments on the prince’s ancestry when he found that the younger elf had already fallen asleep. Sighing, he sat up and propped himself against a nearby tree. He maintained his temper by telling himself repeatedly that as soon as their quarantine was over, the three furry miscreants would be spending some time in Mirkwood. Thranduil was going to share every bit of frustration that he had.

To Be Continued…
I have a ton more written in a notebook somewhere. I just need to locate that notebook and type it up. R&R!