Author Notes: Movieverse, definitely, but with some book-canon… there’s a bit in the planning of the attack on the Black Gates there’s a glimpse of Legolas and Eomer, and Legolas is cradling one arm as though he were injured in the battle. And the plot bunny advanced on me. Honestly, I tried to just give it one little carrot…

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In the Care of Brothers

By Songspinner

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For a wonder, Legolas found himself still on his feet as evening fell. The darkness that began to cover the fields around Minas Tirith was soothing this time instead of bringing terror and fighting, and helped to cover what most did not want to see. The archer had worked until sundown to secure the field and honor the dead, and to tend to the wounded. Gimli had shadowed him whenever he could. For some reason, the dwarf’s presence made the death-filled hours somewhat easier to bear, as he had also after the battle at Helms Deep.

Once the Armies of the Dead had been released, Aragorn had hurried to where the healers were tending the wounded. The elf hadn’t seen his friend since sunset, and he’d begun to worry. This was, he mused, not an uncommon feeling during the many years of their friendship.

"Legolas?" Eomer’s voice coming out the twilight interrupted his thoughts.

"You are well, my lord?" Legolas asked, eyeing the dents and bloodstains, both human and orc, on the man’s skin and armor.

"Bloodied, but alive. And you? Arriving as we did, there was no time for the reunion of friends."

Inclining his head to show that he was honored by the choice of words, Legolas saw that his critical gaze of a moment before was now being returned. "I believe you said it well, actually. Bloodied but alive."

"You are favoring that arm, so I suppose that counts as bloodied." Eomer shook his head and stretched carefully, wincing at the pull on cuts and bruises. "With what I have heard and seen today, I am surprised that Aragorn has not seen to your wounds." He sat down on the trampled earth, leaning against a huge chunk of stone that had fallen from the city walls.

"Ah," Legolas murmured. "Well, as to that…"

"Didn’t tell him yet, did you?" Eomer’s voice sounded rather amused.

"No, I did not." The elf slowly sat beside Eomer, sliding down carefully and holding his right arm tight against his chest. "I have not been able to find him in the last few hours. Have you seen him?"

"Briefly, but Gandalf came to find him not long ago. He…" Eomer paused, a look of profound admiration on his face as he stared off toward the city. "Aragorn healed my sister, and Faramir, and your friend Merry. I’ve never seen aught like it. It was as if he called them back from death."

Legolas smiled wearily, shaking his head in fond pride. "Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell, trained his sons well, but Aragorn has more skill than most realize. Your words surprise me not at all. Eowyn is well, then?"

The new king of Rohan smiled through his weariness. "I thought she was dead and then to hear her voice…" His eyes swung back to his elven friend. "They say that she will heal in time. I would have stayed longer, but I had to see to my Riders, and to be honest, I’ve never done particularly well being in a Healers’ domain."

"Most warriors, elves as much as men, would prefer to avoid such, I think."

"Aye, especially those of us who have seen it far too often." Eomer threw a slightly mischievous grin at the elf.

"I see that Aragorn has told you some tales as well as Gimli." Legolas responded. "I hope they’ve not cast me in a bad light."

"Never that. I’ve grown to trust the three of you wholly in such a short time. Will you trust me to look at that arm?"

Eomer’s unexpected question made Legolas stare at the man. "Elves heal faster than men. You need not fear for my safety."

"Legolas, neither of us is likely to truly rest yet this night, and elf or man, I can only guess that leaving such a thing uncleansed for long cannot bode well." Eomer’s face grew concerned as he glanced back at the city walls.

"I would not take Aragorn’s focus just now. He has far too many to attend to now, and after what he did for my beloved sister, I saw how drained he seemed."

"Well, neither of us is without training in healing after battles, so perhaps we can attend to each other’s wounds?" Legolas’ quiet and reciprocal offer was just audible over the sounds of the carts that were rolling past them back toward the City. "You will have much to deal with, and soon. I am sorry for the loss of Theoden King."

Eomer bowed his head to rest on his knees for a brief moment. "I, too. He was a father to me, and to Eowyn. I find it difficult to imagine the Golden Hall without him, and I miss my cousin Theodred. So many gone so quickly and so little time to mourn."

"I can only wish," Legolas murmured in return, "That I had so little time. The memory of those we’ve lost will be eternal for me, barring my death in battle. I will carry those memories across the sea some day."

Man and elf waited silently for a time, surrounded by the growing night. Finally, with a sigh, Eomer rose carefully. "Shall we, then? If we are to represent our people when plans are made, we should be…"

"Steadier on our feet than we are at present?" Legolas finished for him when he paused.

Eomer’s face grew less grim at the elf’s words and he smiled just a little. "I am sure that would be to our advantage. Are you going to let me see how bad that arm is?"

"If you allow me to help you with your wounds. The right side of your face appears to have met with someone’s shield." Legolas spoke with a wry smile on his own face. He reached up to take Eomer’s offered hand and pulled himself to a standing position.

"It did do something of the sort, though I am not sure exactly when that happened." Eomer slung one mail-heavy arm over the elf’s uninjured shoulder and steered him in the direction of the main tent in the Rohirric camp.