Chapter 26 – Slow Healing

Aragorn pressed his hand against his friend’s forehead and was overjoyed when he found that the intense heat had lessened to a tolerable level. The young man let a small smile creep into his face and settled back down into the chair that he had vacated moments ago. ‘I’ve been doing this way too often,’ he mused as he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders to ward off the morning chill.

“You have got to stop doing this to me, my friend,” Aragorn said with a soft chuckle. “My heart can’t take any more of your abuse.”

The man had stayed up all night, insisting that he wanted to keep vigil until the prince woke. Elrond knew how stubborn his foster son could be once his mind was set upon something and hence did not insist that he leave his friend’s side. Legolas had become restless sometime after midnight, as nightmares invaded his dreams. Several times he cried out and thrashed around wildly. Aragorn was forced to hold him down to prevent him from hurting himself, but as the ranger restrained the ailing elf, Legolas had pled for his “captor” to stop hurting him. The words split Aragorn’s heart in two when the man realized that he was the one who was supposedly hurting his friend. Fighting back tears of guilt and frustration, the ranger tried his best to calm the distraught prince by whispering soothing words and singing to him all night. Finally by dawn, Legolas quieted down and drifted into a more peaceful sleep.

A soft knock drew Aragorn’s attention from the bedridden elf, and he turned to see Elrohir at the door. The dark-haired elf gave his brother a smile, before making his way to the bed.

“Has he awakened?”

“No. But he’s finally getting some decent rest.”

Aragorn stood and stretched, causing the blanket to slip off his shoulders. Bending over, he picked it up from the floor, but as he straightened, a wave of dizziness swept through him, and the human staggered into his brother.

“Whoa! Easy there,” Elrohir caught his swaying brother and held on to him until he found his balance. “You should get some rest. You have hardly slept these past few days, and I don’t want you falling sick because you over exerted yourself.”

Aragorn started to protest, but was cut off before he could make further excuses.

“Legolas would not be happy if he knew that you got sick because of him.” Elrohir moved his brother gently out of the room and gave him a little push to get the ranger moving on his own. “Go and get some sleep. I will watch over him.”

“Call me when he wakes,” the man mumbled, and, with that, he dragged his exhausted body into his own room, which was fortunately just next to the room Legolas was staying in. The human seriously doubted he could walk any further than that. Flopping down onto the bed face first, Aragorn was asleep even before he could remove his footwear.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Elrohir took over his brother’s position beside the bed and adjusted the light blanket around the prince. Legolas looked much better compared to the day before, but he was still a long way from full recovery. At least his face was no longer scrunched up in pain. That was a good start for the day. His fever remained, but that was expected, for his body was still locked in a battle with the infection and poison that coursed through his veins.

‘If only he would wake...’

As if on cue, a soft moan escaped the blond elf’s lips, and he shifted ever so slightly. Elrohir could see that his friend was struggling to reacquaint his mind with the world of the living. Leaning closer, the older elf took one of Legolas’ hands from beneath the blanket and squeezed it gently.

“Legolas? Can you hear me?” Elrohir whispered, while patting the elf’s face lightly with his other hand. “Open your eyes for me...”

Legolas moaned again, this time a little louder. His breathing also became deeper, and Elrohir felt the prince's fingers curl weakly around his own hand.

“Come now, I know you can do it,” the older elf said encouragingly as he brushed a strand of damp hair from Legolas' face. “Aren’t you tired of sleeping yet?”

The statement elicited another groan from the elven prince, which Elrohir took as a good sign. Or at least he hoped it was.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Legolas shifted slightly under the light covers, and his face turned towards the familiar, yet irritating voice. Incoherent words flittered into his still muddled mind, and the elf wished he could tell the annoying person to leave him be. But opening his eyes proved to be more difficult than he’d thought it would be. His lids seemed to have been weighted down by some unknown force, and the various aches in his body made him want to sink back into oblivion. But that voice… It sounded so… tense. Something must be terribly wrong for someone to be so worried. Was it he who was causing the other’s distress? He wanted to tell the person that he was fine, but his brain refused to make his lips move. Thinking that he might have more success in opening his eyes, Legolas focused all his energy into prying his heavy eyelids open. Slowly but surely, his eyes fluttered open and were immediately greeted by a blur image. The face hovered above him, and he could see the lips moving, although he was unable to make out the words. Blinking a few times, the blond elf finally managed to bring the image into focus.

“Legolas? Thank the Valar you’re awake!” Elrohir exclaimed with relief, and a wide smile graced his handsome face.

“W-wh…” The still confused elf prince tried to speak, but was dismayed that he couldn’t find his voice. His throat felt like sandpaper, and his head seemed to have been stuffed full of cotton.

“Here. Drink this.”

The twin slipped a hand behind Legolas’ neck and lifted his head slightly off the pillow, while his other hand pressed the rim of a cup to his cracked lips. Cool liquid trickled into the elf’s mouth, and the prince swallowed instinctively, letting the sweet water glide down his parched throat. After several small sips, the cup was removed, much to Legolas’ disappointment.

“M-more,” he whispered with effort and was shocked to find his voice weak and unsteady. He wanted to reach for the cup, but found that he was too weak to even move his arm.

Elrohir shook his head.

“Not so fast, young one,” said the dark-haired elf as he eased his friend back onto the pillow.

Elrohir set the cup down on a small table beside the bed and turned back to face Legolas. Looking into the glazed and slightly unfocused eyes of the wood-elf, Elrohir forced himself to ask the question that he had been dreading ever since Legolas woke. Bending over slightly, the young peredhil touched his finger on elven prince’s face to get his attention.

“Do you know who I am?”

His father had told them about the risk of brain damage. He hated to be the one to find out, but someone had to do it. It might as well be him. It might not be bad news after all.

Legolas squinted at his caregiver and frowned. Staring at the face above him, he could not answer.

No! Elrohir’s heart sank at the silence. He did NOT want to be the one to break the ill news to the rest of the family.

TBC…