Chapter 13 – Going Home

Elrohir hissed as Elladan increased the pressure and pressed his eyes shut instinctively, balling his fists into a tight ball.

“Sorry,” Elladan whispered apologetically, but Elrohir gave him a brave smile.

“I’m all right.”

“I want to put a bandage on it,” the older elf explained, and Elrohir nodded his approval.

“Go ahead.”

Smiling softly at his brother, Elladan wrapped a loose length of cloth around his twin’s neck and secured it, before giving him an encouraging squeeze on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll live.”

Elrohir snorted and the two brothers shared an impish grin.

“I’m sure Ada will be able to patch you up when we get home,” Elladan reassured his younger sibling.

The younger twin reached out and touched the other elf on his arm, his silver-grey eyes shining with unspoken gratitude mixed with a tinge of relief. “I’m glad you’re all right, `Dan. Thank the Valar the knife they used on you was not poisoned.”

Although at times the two brothers seemed to want to kill each other, it was moments like these that revealed the true compassion they had for each other.

*****

A soft moan from Legolas drew their attention to the elven prince. The elf stirred under the heavy bedroll and let out another painful groan. His action brought the three siblings to his side in a flash.

“Legolas?” Aragorn called out lightly, not daring to touch his friend, afraid that he might hurt him unnecessarily.

“Cold...” Legolas mumbled, his voice so soft that they had to lean close to his lips to make out the word. As if to stress his point, a deep shudder surged through his body, wrenching yet another whimper from his throat.

“I think it’s time we leave.” Rising to his feet unsteadily, Elrohir removed his cloak and handed it to Aragorn. “Keep him warm.”

Elladan too slipped his cloak off and draped the thick material over the younger man’s shoulders. “You’ll be needing this.” Before the human could protest, the twins hurried off to pack up their remaining belongings, tossing the saddlebags over the horses’ back.

Aragorn fastened his brother’s cloak securely around his neck and proceeded to prepare Legolas for their long journey home. Lifting the bedroll reluctantly from the elf, the ranger’s heart sank as he saw that the white bandage was spotted crimson once again. By his estimation, the elf would bleed through the bandage in several hours. With a heavy heart, he raised the elf to a sitting position and wrapped Elrohir’s cloak around his shivering form.

The elf’s eyes fluttered momentarily as he struggled to wake, and it took him several minutes to pry his heavy lids open. Blinking a few times, he tried unsuccessfully to bring the blurry image in front of him into focus; the simple task seemed to be next to impossible.

“Legolas, can you hear me?” The familiar voice drifted into his ears.

“Aragorn?” he asked groggily, unsure if he was awake or still trapped in some dream, but when the pain woke his slumbering senses, he knew instantly that he wasn’t dreaming.

“We’re going home, my friend. Just hold on a little longer...”

Legolas nodded slowly letting his head droop towards his chest, too weak to hold it up any longer. Aragorn maneuvered behind the elf and positioned himself so that Legolas could lean against his chest. He tilted his friend’s head back and rested it in the crook of his shoulder.

“`Dan? `Ro?” The words came out as a mere whisper, and the simple task cost him much of his remaining strength.

“We’re here.” The twins approached the prince and crouched down in front of him so that he could see them.

“You all right?” the wood-elf managed, before his eyes drifted shut, his body going limp once again in Aragorn’s arms.

Helping his human brother lift the elven prince onto his feet, Elladan held onto the unconscious elf as his brother mounted his horse. He then handed his precious burden to the human, settling him in front of the ranger. Aragorn hooked his right hand under Legolas’ arm, his palm coming to rest on the elf’s chest. He needed to feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest to reassure himself that his friend was still alive. Pulling the limp elf against his body, he extended his cloak around the prince, wrapping him tightly to keep him warm.

Elrohir packed up the bedrolls and mounted Alquamor, while his brothers settled Legolas onto the horse. He reached up to touch the light bandage around his neck and regretted the foolish action as pain shot down his shoulder. He had found that if he didn’t move around too much, the pain was bearable. Waiting patiently for Elladan to mount behind Elrohir, the riders kicked their horses into a fast canter towards home.

The four companions rode with great urgency, stopping only to change Legolas’ bandages. They were later forced to slow their pace as the hustling caused the prince much pain, even in the state of unconsciousness. His soft moans alerted the human, and Aragorn had to bring Iarephel down to a slow trot.

Elladan and Elrohir matched their brother’s speed, riding slightly ahead of them. The two elves chatted lightly throughout the journey, but now Elrohir’s reactions seemed to have slowed and become rather sluggish.

“`Ro?” Tightening his arm around his brother’s waist unconsciously, Elladan called out gently.

“Hmm…?” The younger elf leaned back against his brother’s chest as the arm pulled at him.

“Are you well?” Elladan felt an unnatural heat radiating from his brother’s body. Pressing the palm of his hand to Elrohir’s forehead, he was dismayed to find it unnaturally warm. “By the Valar! You’re burning up!”

A wave of panic rising within him, he slowed his horse and rode up next to Aragorn. “`Ro is running a fever. I think his wound is infected,” he said briskly.

Aragorn threw a worried glance at his elven brothers. “We’re still a long way from Imladris. At this rate, we won’t be able to reach it for another four hours.” Looking over at Elrohir, who had slumped awkwardly against Elladan, his concern grew another notch. “Ride ahead of us. Get him home fast! We will follow as quickly as we can manage.”

“Be careful…” Elladan reached out and patted his brother on the arm, before kicking his horse into a reckless pace, leaving Aragorn and Legolas far behind.

“What are you doing?” Elrohir muttered as he felt Elladan bring their mount into a run. He gripped his brother’s hand, which was wrapped securely around his waist to keep him steady upon the animal’s back.

“I’m saving your hide, so be quiet and concentrate on not falling off the horse,” Elladan answered smoothly, trying to contain the fear in his voice.

“I do not fall off horses,” Elrohir retorted crossly, “unless thrown off by an insane brother who is riding as if the entire army of Mordor were at his tail.”

Elladan snorted and ignored the remark. Even at this speed, it would still take them close to an hour before they would reach The Last Homely House, and he knew that infection-induced fever raged like wild fire. Elrohir might not even be able to think straight by the time they reached home.

“I’m fine, `Dan.” The lie was dispelled, however, as a shiver ran through his body, drawing a small moan from the young elf. “All right, I’m not fine,” Elrohir ground out bitterly, “but can you slow down? It’s giving me a headache.”

It was actually more than a headache. His entire body ached; every joint in his body felt like it was falling apart. He suddenly felt sick to the stomach as a wave of nausea assailed him, and the rocking motion made it worse. Another groan escaped his lips, and he clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to hold back the bile that threatened to rise up his throat.

“`Dan... stop...” He forced the words out from between his fingers. “I don’t feel good...”

Elladan pulled the horse to a sudden halt. Elrohir practically rolled off the beast and staggered a few feet away, before falling to his knees. Bracing himself up with his hands, he retched and gagged as his stomach tried to empty its non-existent contents. He had eaten nothing since the day of their capture, save for some water.

Elladan rushed to his brother’s side and supported him by the shoulders, while holding his hair out of his face as the heaving continued to assault his body. Rubbing the younger elf’s back in soothing circles, Elladan whispered gently to him in elvish. The words somehow helped his brother relax.

The dry heaves slowly let up, and Elrohir felt a pair of strong arms encircle him from behind, lowering him onto the grass. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he allowed his brother to help him up to his feet. His legs wobbled treacherously and, for a moment, he thought he was going to crash back unceremoniously onto the ground. He was thankful when his brother held him upright. Making their way unsteadily back to the waiting horse, Elladan boosted him onto the animal and then clambered up rather clumsily behind him. He had not yet regained his strength from the recent poisoning.

“I’m sorry,” Elrohir apologized, embarrassed, knowing that his little display had troubled his brother.

“Don’t be,” came the soft reply. “Are you feeling better?”

The younger twin nodded slightly, not daring to think what would happen if they started on a fast gallop again.

Sensing his brother’s anxiety, Elladan brought the horse to an easy trot. Pressing Elrohir’s head against his chest, he whispered into his ears. “Close your eyes.”

Elrohir complied without complain and let his eyes drift shut, while concentrating hard on his ragged breathing.

“Remember the lake that we used to frequent back home?” the older twin asked, and was awarded with a small nod. “Think of the still water of the lake, calm and peaceful... sunlight reflecting off the surface...” He felt Elrohir inhale deeply. “Imagine the flowers in full bloom, their soft petals bathing in the sun... the fresh scent of damp grass after the rain...” Elladan continued to coo softly and gradually increased the pace of the horse when he felt Elrohir relax against him. Soon, they were riding at a reckless speed towards home again.

TBC...