The Paradise of Elves – Part 61: Fallen

‘Do not move!’

‘It is not the not moving that is the problem,’ Elladan groaned.

His horse flailed in a desperate attempt to get his hooves under him and lurched to his feet.   Elladan was dimly aware of a deep gratitude that the headlong tumble of mud, water and stones had carried the beast further down the hillside.  Had he remained under Tolog, he was not sure he could have survived the animal’s frantic thrashing.

The rain still fell with the dedication it had shown over the last weeks, but, for once, Elladan found himself rather grateful for its determination to bathe his face in needles of cold water.  He turned his head slightly and attempted to spit out the gritty dirt he had managed to inhale as he had slid down the hill.

‘Do not move!’

Elrohir’s voice was urgent and insistent.

His brother flapped a hand.  ‘Do not keep on, my twin,’ he said vaguely.  ‘It is enough to make my head ache.’

‘The trees are rooted firmly enough,’ he heard Legolas’s soft voice say.  ‘It is only the surface that is too waterlogged to be stable.’

‘Have we ropes?’

‘Enough, I think.  And we will need a stretcher,’ Legolas observed.  ‘The fall cannot have done him any good.’ 

Elrohir made a sound of exasperation that would have made his brother laugh under any other circumstances.

‘There is a fallen tree,’ the Woodland Prince suggested, ‘some hundreds of yards back.  The bark is solid enough – we could cut it to fit Elladan and hold him motionless.  It would keep him still more effectively than a travois.’

‘Do it,’ Elrohir commanded.  ‘I must get down to him.  He is not complaining – that is, in itself, enough to make me worry.’

‘I will protest if it makes you happy,’ Elladan said groggily.  ‘How long is it going to take you to fish me out of this puddle?  I shall be growing gills soon!’

Legolas and Elrohir exchanged glances.  ‘Be quick,’ Elrohir murmured.  ‘He will make a tremendous fuss over a broken fingernail – but serious injury only ever brings out his worst jokes.’

Elladan roused as Elrohir stepped carefully up to him.  ‘What kept you, my brother?’ he asked airily.  ‘I thought you were going to turn down the chance of visiting.’

Gently but thoroughly, Elrohir examined the wet and mud-stained elf, finally removing his cloak pin to test for the response in his brother’s limbs.  ‘Amazingly,’ he said finally, ‘you seem to have damaged little more than your leg.’

‘How is Tolog?’ Elladan asked weakly.  ‘My leg caught under him as he came down, and then we slid, with me acting as a pillow for him.’

Elrohir glanced down to the bright green of the plants beyond the red stain of the fallen earth.  ‘He seems fine,’ he said.  ‘He is eating, at any rate.’  He looked back to his brother.  ‘I am going to put a collar on you,’ he insisted, ‘just in case.  And then I will splint your leg.’  He hesitated.  ‘It will need further treatment – but I want to get you home first, so that Adar can deal with it under conditions that are a little more conducive to good healing practice.  If we were further from home, I might have to . . . but we are not.’

His twin reached out to grasp his wrist.  ‘You will do what you can, Elrohir – and no-one can do more.  I would rather have you with me than an army of healers.’

Elrohir patted his brother’s hand.  ‘Legolas is bringing a body splint.  We will immobilise you and get you out of here.’  He met his brother’s eyes.  ‘It is going to hurt.’

‘I would worry more if it did not,’ Elladan told him.

‘Once we have you safe, I will make up a potion to knock you out – we want to make it home as quickly as we can, and your whingeing will only distract us.’

‘I can accept that.’

Elrohir tried to conceal the anxiety caused by his usually bull-headed twin’s unexpectedly easy co-operation.

***

Legolas looked at the unconscious form of his friend as he lay motionless in the rigid hold of the stretcher, then glanced at Elrohir enquiringly.

Elrohir shook his head.  ‘I am just glad we are within a few hours of Adar,’ he said quietly.  ‘The bone is – badly broken.’  He closed his eyes.  ‘And the wound is still full of mud and gravel.  He could lose the leg.’

‘He will not,’ Legolas said with conviction.  ‘Elladan is indestructible.  He has survived worse and bounced back.’ 

His friend gave a slight shake of his head.  ‘I shall feel more convinced of that when I hear those words from Adar’s mouth.’

‘Well, in that case,’ Legolas said staunchly, taking one end of the stretcher, ‘let us hurry up and get Elladan home, so that Lord Elrond can tell you himself.’