Chapter 27 – No More Surprises

Legolas squinted at the elf looking down at him. Normally he could easily distinguish the faces, but not today. Today, he felt that his brain had turned into a puddle of useless mush. ‘Must be what the orcs feel like all the time.’ He watched as the facial muscle in dark haired elf tensed, and he thought it would be best if he said something.

“Can’t remember,” Legolas paused for breath before continuing, “which twin you are...”

Elrohir wanted to shout with joy, though he also felt like whacking the Mirkwood-elf for making him worried sick with fear. But now, only a stupid smile was plastered on his face.

“What’s happened?” the prince asked tentatively as he tried to find a more comfortable position on the bed. His entire body ached, but his back hurt the most, sending waves of fire up his spine.

“You don’t remember?”

Legolas shook his head feebly.

“I remember riding towards Rivendell with Estel,” he paused to lick his dry lips. “I thought,” he hesitated. “I thought that I was going to die…”

“And you nearly did,” Elrohir said with a sad smile. “But right now, you just concentrate on getting better.” Moving the cup to Legolas’ lips again, he propped the prince up slightly and let him finish the remaining water.

Legolas was unable to suppress a wince as Elrohir once again lower him down onto the pillow, and, this time, the twin caught the expression.

“Let me help you onto your side. It will take the pressure off your back.”

The offer was gladly accepted, and Legolas gritted his teeth as Elrohir turned him to his side. Despite all the care he took while moving the injured elf, he still jarred the prince, causing him to bury his face into the blanket and bite down hard on the material to stop himself from crying out. Working nimbly, Elrohir settled Legolas into the desired position and then brushed a strand of hair from the prince’s sweat-drenched face. Picking up the towel, which lay in the basin, he dabbed the sweat and tears away.

“Sleep now.” He smoothed Legolas’ hair back affectionately. “You will feel better after you wake.”

“Tell me…” the prince whispered, while keeping his eyes closed, for he did not think he could open them just yet.

“What do you want to know?” Elrohir asked gently as he took a seat beside the bed.

“Which twin are you?” Legolas paused to catch his breath. Prying his eyes open eventually, he locked gazes with the younger twin.

“The younger one, if you must know,” Elrohir chuckled lightly.

“Y-you were… hurt…” Legolas lifted a shaky hand to touch the young peredhil’s neck, but his hand was caught quickly and tucked back under the blanket.

“I am well. Father is an excellent healer.” Elrohir tilted his head to expose his neck to the prince. The scar was already fading leaving a thin red line across the porcelain skin.

Legolas heaved a sigh of relief, knowing that his friends were safe, and his eyes gradually drooped from exhaustion. But suddenly, they flew open again. “Estel?” the elf voiced in panic. He was sure that the human would be blaming himself for what had happened.

“He’s fine. I sent him to his room to get some sleep.”

“He blames himself,” Legolas forced out. His human friend would always find a way to blame himself, just like the way he would when something happened to Aragorn. “Tell him…not to…” The prince was slowly losing his battle against the pull of unconsciousness.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t, even if it means that I have to beat some sense into that thick head of his.” Elrohir laid his hand on Legolas’ shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Rest now.”

The touch seemed to be magical as the woodland being drifted off into a deep healing sleep almost immediately. The elf smiled as he arranged the blanket around the Legolas’ shoulders and then left the room. Time to tell Estel the good news.

*****

Elladan strolled into the garden. It had been days since he had been in the mood to take a walk in the beautiful compound of the Last Homely House. Between Estel’s emotional outburst and Legolas’ dire condition, the twin was close to a mental breakdown himself. But with everything smoothening out gradually, his spirit lightened, and he actually found the desire to go outdoors. Settling under an old oak tree, he watched the clouds drift by in the afternoon sky. The sounds of birds and other small animals around the vicinity gave him comfort. Life was such a beautiful thing. Hours passed by, but to him, it seemed like mere minutes. The elf leaned against the trunk of the tree and started humming softly. Soon, he broke into a joyous song, the fingers of his right hand twirling around a blade of grass leisurely.

All of a sudden, his keen elven ears picked up the sound of an arrow being released from a taut bow. A “twang” followed by a “whoosh” filled the air, but before he could take action, an arrow came flying straight towards him…

TBC…