First Meetings

“Speech”

// Thought//

Chapter 4

  The two traveled together for the next several days.  Legolas had tried to get rid of the stranger a few more times, but it appeared that the man simply didn’t get the hints...or, if he did, he was ignoring them.

  The trip down the mountain shouldn’t have been tiring on the two young beings (well, relatively young in the Elf’s case), but it was.  Legolas’ head was pounding the entire time, but it wasn’t due to the head injury. Every step caused a flare of pain to emanate from his side.  He had checked on the wound and it had barely begun to close, which was concerning, and the area around it was red and inflamed.  He thought that he had developed an infection, but nothing too serious; however, what he couldn’t explain was why he felt hot all of a sudden.  He was an Elf.  Elves didn’t get hot, but he was.  It was most troubling.

  It wasn’t exactly an easy time for Aragorn either.  He had become sicker and sicker.  He too had a headache, his nose was stuffed and he was sneezing like crazy.  All he wanted to do was get home and into his own bed.

  They had arrived on the plains that lay between Rivendell and the Misty Mountains.  It was a rocky and open terrain but it did harbour a few clusters of trees just off of the path.  They made for one of these clusters to rest for the night before beginning their final day of traveling tomorrow.  The two set up camp and then sat in silence, watching the sun set and cast its final rays upon the earth before descending below the horizon.  After a while Legolas decided he couldn’t sit by the flames any longer for fear of melting, so he climbed a nearby tree, ignoring the protests of his side and using only his good arm.  After about an hour or so, Strider called up to him, stating that he would take the first watch and allow Legolas to give into sleep.

  It seemed like he had just dozed off when Strider began to call out to him, eventually resorting to shaking him.

  “Taurdil?  Taurdil, it is time to wake for your watch. Taurdil?”

  The Elf slowly focused his eyes and looked to his right, startled to see that Strider was standing right beside him.

  Strider grinned at the look on the Elf’s face.  “Didn’t think humans could climb trees?”  He laughed at his own joke before continuing, changing his tone from joking to serious. “You are hard to wake, Master Elf.  I called from the ground but you wouldn’t answer.  Are you all right?” 

  Legolas tried to get the pounding in his head to subdue before he answered.  “I am fine, just a little tired.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie; he *was* tired.  In fact, he was physically exhausted.  It didn’t seem to matter how much sleep he got—he never had any energy.  He slowly climbed down the tree and allowed Strider to rest while he took the watch.

  The night was extremely uneventful. Legolas did notice, however, that as the night grew old, the temperature seemed to increase even without the sun.  //What is wrong with me?  Mayhap I should ask Lord Elrond...but no, I couldn’t show up there injured again, he would truly hate me if I did. // The memory of his last visit came to mind again, as it had done over the entire course of this trip.

  He had been visiting Elladan and Elrohir for quite some time and, needless to say, the three had gotten into trouble many times.  Eventually, towards the end of the summer, they had decided to go on a hunting trip.  There had been reports of trolls around but they foolishly ignored the warnings and continued on their way.  It didn’t come as much of a surprise to anyone who knew them when they heard that the three had accidentally found themselves in the middle of a troll’s campsite.  They had barely escaped with their lives and when they returned to Lord Elrond injured yet again, he had yelled at them and called them irresponsible and reckless, and said with an angry, threatening tone that he would not tolerate anymore of that behaviour.  Legolas had never seen the older Elf this angry in his life.  It was then that Legolas felt he had overstayed his welcome, and he left the following day even though he was injured.  He had not been back since.

  As Legolas had been reminiscing, the sun had peaked over the horizon, and the Elf went to wake Strider.  He found the human in his bedroll tossing and turning with sweat covering his face.  “Strider, awaken.  It is morning and we should head out soon.”

  Legolas watched as the human struggled with waking, finally managing to open his eyes, which were glossy and feverish.  Strider slowly got up and began to help break camp but was soon overcome with a head rush.  He swayed where he stood and Legolas was forced to rush to his side in order to steady him.  “Perhaps you should sit down.  You are ill. You have a fever.”

  Strider looked at Taurdil, nearly laughing.  //Here is someone who looks just as sick as I, if not sicker, and he is telling me to sit down!//  “You’re not the perfect picture of health either, mellon-nîn.”

  “Elves don’t get sick.”

  “Then you must be a dwarf in disguise because you are obviously ill.”

  //How dare he call me a dwarf!!// Legolas tried to think of a comeback but couldn’t comprehend anything beyond the pounding in his head.

  “That’s what I thought,” remarked Strider.  “Now come on, we had better get on our way if we want to make it to Rivendell by nightfall.”

  *~*~*~*~*

  The trip to Imladris should have taken no more than nine hours from where they were camped, but they were both so physically exhausted that it was now going on twelve, adding the hour at least they still had to go.

  Aragorn had noticed that he himself was traveling unusually slowly, but what surprised him was the fact that Taurdil was almost having a hard time keeping up with him.  He had tried to figure out what was happening to the Elf, but Taurdil had just insisted that he was fine, only a little tired.

  Without warning, the Elf stopped and leaned heavily against a tree.  “What is it?  Are you all right?” asked a slightly worried Strider. He walked over and placed a concerned hand on Taurdil’s shoulder, trying to look into the Elf’s eyes, but was unable see clearly because the fair being’s head hung down and his hair helped disguise his features.

  “I’m fine, I just need a rest.” Legolas could hardly keep up the act anymore.  His head was pounding so badly he just wanted to fall to the ground, clutch it and scream.  There was a darkness pulling at his mind, telling him to go to sleep, but he was determined to make it to Rivendell.  “I’m fine now, let’s...” the Elf paused and looked around; something was not right.

  “What is it?”

  Legolas never got the chance to answer. Suddenly a pack of large, hairy wargs burst through the bushes and glanced around.  Saliva was dropping from their toothy mouths as they spotted their potential prey.  Legolas’ senses were so dull that he wasn’t able to detect their presence until the evil creatures were upon them.

  Aragorn immediately drew his sword, while Legolas drew one of his twin knives with his good hand.

  There were eight wargs altogether and they split up evenly to take out their prey.  The animals managed to push the Aragorn away from the Elf, and one lunged at him.  The ranger quickly moved to the side and plunged his sword into the warg’s side as it soared past him.  He then pivoted around and beheaded one that was trying to sneak up on him.  The other two circled and growled, then suddenly they attacked at the same time.

  Aragorn stabbed one on the approach but the other managed to clamp its teeth onto his right arm, causing him to lose his sword.  //This isn’t good// he thought as he ripped his arm away.  The warg lunged again...

TBC...