See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Chapter 11

"Your arm, Legolas. Let me tend to your arm first. Everything else can wait," Feren said, trying to ease his brother onto the ground.

"No! There is no time!" Legolas pulled free from his brother's hold, coming to himself with a jolt. "Orcs! We must go and help the others!"

Feren narrowed his eyes. "Orcs? Where?"

Legolas shook his head. "There is no time to explain. I will lead you to them."

"Legolas, you are injured. Tell me where the orcs are and I will deal with them. I want you to stay here and have that arm tended to," Feren said, his instinct to protect his brother vying with his instinct to protect his warriors.

"No! It may be too late by the time you find them on your own. I must lead you there!" Legolas turned and pulled himself onto his brother's horse with a grunt of pain. "With or without you, I am going back to help them!"

Feren hesitated, but only briefly, before climbing on behind his brother. "All right, but you will stay with me. Lead the way"

Legolas was already urging the horse into a gallop and the group of warriors quickly followed his lead through the trees, their senses alert for any oncoming danger.

As they raced through the forest, Legolas gave his brother a bare-boned explanation of what had happened. Feren listened to his brother's breathless words without interruption, as his mind churned with differing plans of action. His eyes strayed time and time again to the barely visible arrow shaft protruding sickeningly from his brother's bloody arm. Pressing his lips into a grim line, he knew Legolas' wound had to wait. It was a serious wound, but not life-threatening. The lives of three other warriors were in danger, and that held priority.

"The humans are behind that thick grove of pines just ahead," Legolas pointed out. "Will you leave somebody behind to watch over them?"

Feren was already giving such an order to the two elves riding at their side. For a brief second or two, he debated whether he should order Legolas to do likewise, but thought better of it. He doubted that his brother would stay behind in any event, orders or not, and if Legolas was going to be anywhere near the orcs, Feren wanted him at his side where he could keep his eyes on the young warrior.

"How much farther?" Feren asked after they had ridden for several minutes.

"Just up ahead," Legolas said, straining his ears for any sound of battle.

Feren nodded to one of the nearest warriors. "Tithen, scout ahead through the trees. Quickly! We will follow on horseback at a distance."

The warrior disappeared quickly into the trees. Minutes later, his signal came.

Feren immediately sent several of the warriors into the trees. "Take out as many enemies as you can with your bow before engaging them in combat on the ground. The rest of us will circle around behind them and take them by surprise. Legolas, are you able to wield your bow?"

Legolas tightened his jaw and nodded. "Yes."

"Then get into the trees as well, but stay up there when you have exhausted your arrows. I do not want you to take part in the ground battle with that arm," Feren said firmly. "That is an order, Legolas. I will not tolerate disobedience."

Legolas clamped his mouth shut and dismounted, biting back a gasp of pain. Clenching his teeth against the burning in his arm, he managed to pull himself into the tree and with grim determination, followed the others who had already raced well ahead. In truth, he was uncertain whether his injured arm would allow him to use his bow at all, and he suspected that Feren already knew this. Whether he could bring down any enemies with his bow probably did not matter to his brother as much as the fact that he would be out of direct danger if he was kept high up in the trees. His brother's underlying intentions did not surprise Legolas. What surprised him was that Feren had actually allowed him, injured as he was, to come this close to the enemies.

The sound of conflict alerted his senses and he forced himself to quicken his pace through the trees. A moment later, he found himself crouched on a sturdy branch drawing back the string on his bow as his arm shook and protested with agony. He let loose the arrow and watched with grim satisfaction as it pierced an enemy through the torso. Blinking back the haze of pain, he took aim again at another nearby target, knowing that his arrows, lacking their usual deadly strength, would not travel far. He managed to empty half of his quiver before the pain overcame him and he had to grasp tightly onto the trunk of the tree to prevent himself from falling.

The ground below him had already erupted into battle.

He forced himself to reach for another arrow and was unprepared for the sudden wave of dizziness that swept through him. Grabbing wildly for the trunk of the tree again, he let out a cry of alarm when his hand met air and he suddenly felt himself falling. A branch snagged his tunic, arresting his fall for a brief second, before snapping under the weight of his falling momentum. The snagging branch had saved him from a possibly fatal fall, but the impact with which he landed was sufficient to drive all the air from his lungs and for several agonizing seconds, he lay crumpled at the base of the tree, gasping for the elusive breath of air.

Suddenly and without warning, a peripheral shadow lunged at him. Dazed yet from the fall, he barely managed to roll away from the threatening point of an orc blade, hissing from the flaring pain in his arm. Struggling to his knees, he drew his knife from its scabbard just in time to parry another deadly blow, but the force behind his opponent's strike was enough to send his knife flying from his weakened grip. He saw the enemy raised the deadly blade again and he closed his eyes, and awaited death.

The blow never came. And suddenly, someone was grasping him by the arm and pulling him up.

"Legolas! Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes, unable to trust what his ears had heard. "Hesin?"

It was indeed his fellow warrior. The latter gave him a quick smile before propelling him deeper into the trees, away from the immediate scene of the ongoing fighting.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked in turn, his eyes swept searchingly over the other warrior even as he staggered forward on shaky limbs with the other's help.

"A few cuts, but otherwise whole," Hesin replied as he kept his hand on the unsteady elf.

"And Arphen and Tithernon?"

"Arphen is still engaged in battle back there. I have lost sight of Tithernon," Hesin answered.

"We cannot leave yet. The battle continues," Legolas suddenly stopped, and pulled his arm from the other's supporting grasp. "We need to help."

"It is nearly over. Look for yourself. The others have arrived," Hesin said, reaching out once more to steady the younger elf.

The older warrior was right. The fight was all but over as the mounted warriors swept through the trees, sparing none of the enemies in their path, and giving chase to those who sought to flee from what was certain death. Orc bodies littered the ground. Legolas stared at the blood-sodden ground before him, and recalled another scene of destruction from the not so distant past, where he and Hesin had cheated death, as they did now.

He let out a shaky breath. "We should go and help the wounded."

"You are wounded yourself, Legolas," Hesin said quietly. "Your arm has yet to stop bleeding."

Legolas shook his head. "It is but a minor wound. Others are in greater need of help. And I need to find Feren. I need to know that he is safe." He took several unsteady steps forward, trying desperately to blink away the blackening spots that were obliterating his vision. From somewhere, seemingly faraway, he vaguely heard his name being called out and the world suddenly darkened. Then he knew no more.

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He awoke to a white-hot pain searing into his arm and he heard his own voice cry out as he tried to pull away from the source of hurt. Something or somebody was holding him down firmly.

"Keep still, Legolas. It is nearly over," a familiar voice said soothingly.

The pain worsened and he cried out again, burrowing his face into someone's tunic as the familiar voice continued to murmur soothingly to him. The hot poker probed his arm again and he arched his back against the unearthly agony as he emitted another cry.

"It is all right, Legolas. Just a little bit more. It is nearly out," the same voice continued. "There, it is over now, Legolas."

It was not over, for the pain did not lessen. He moaned and grasped frantically at that person's hand.

"Drink this, Legolas. It will help." A cup was pressed to his lips and bitter liquid lapped at his tongue. He tried pulling away, but the cup followed his protesting movement. "Drink it, Legolas. It will help with the pain."

Gagging on the vile taste, he forced the liquid down. Then another cup was pressed to his lips and once again, he tried turning away. "No, no more."

"Drink it, Legolas. It is only water," the same voice said gently. "Slowly, now. There is more if you wish."

Legolas drained the cooling liquid greedily, before falling back into the cradling arms with another moan. Gentle fingers were stroking his face. Who was holding him? Suddenly a thought cut through the haze of pain. Feren! Was his brother safe? He struggled to open his weighted lids.

"Feren?" he moaned as his lashes continued to flutter unsuccessfully.

"I am here, Legolas. I am right here," the familiar voice quickly responded and a gentle hand cupped his face.

At last he was able to crack open his eyes and the image of his brother's anxious face flitted into focus. "Feren?"

"I am here," his brother repeated. "Rest now. I will be right here."

Legolas let out a small sigh and closed his eyes. He felt himself being pulled away in a sea of deadening pain, and gratefully, he gave into the oncoming tides.

xxxxxxx

The incessant throbbing in his arm was what brought him back from the depths of blissful oblivion. With a moan, he forced opened his eyes slowly. The darkness that greeted his blinking eyes was disorienting at first, before he realized that night had fallen. The pain also brought back snatches of hazy memories. With another moan, he attempted to raise himself into a sitting position and succeeded in some fashion after what seemed to be an inordinate amount of effort.

The first thing that caught his wavering attention was the campfire blazing nearby, and then more slowly, the milling shadows about him, assuring him that he was far from being alone. Gingerly, he pushed back the blanket, wincing at the pain that radiated from his arm.

"You should not be moving," a familiar voice sounded at his side.

It was his brother.

Feren gently eased the younger elf back to rest against the trunk of a tree. "You have lost enough blood as it is. You do not want to do anything to restart the bleeding on that arm of yours. How are you feeling?"

Legolas swallowed painfully. "Thirsty."

Feren immediately brought forth a water skin and held it as his brother drank deeply. The older elf watched closely as Legolas, a little breathless from his efforts, leaned back against the tree. "How are you feeling? Are you hungry?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, no food. The mere thought makes me nauseous." He looked about him carefully and saw that several others were resting near him. He guessed that he was lying among the wounded, but the darkness made it difficult to see the extent of the others' injuries. He turned back to his brother. "How did we fare in the battle? Were there many injured? Did we lose any of our warriors?"

"It was a fierce battle, for all its briefness. Defeating the enemies came with a cost. We have suffered losses," Feren said, his voice grim.

Legolas swallowed. "Who? Who did we lose?"

His brother pressed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Four of our warriors were lost, among them was Tithernon. You are not familiar with the other three."

"Tithernon is gone?" Legolas echoed.

"I am sorry, Legolas," Feren consoled.

"And the injured?"

"There are scores of injuries, but most are non life-threatening." The frown deepened on the older elf's face. "Arphen took an arrow in his side. His injury gives us the greatest concern."

"Will he be all right?" Legolas asked anxiously.

Feren shook his head. "It is difficult to say right now. We are doing all that we can for him, but he will need the care of a skilled healer, which we are not. At first light, we will head back to the stronghold with the injured, and that includes you, Legolas."

"No, I will stay. We do not have enough warriors to deal with the increased presence of orcs here. Besides, I am to escort the humans to their safety."

"You are going nowhere but home, Legolas. You may think that having an arm pierced by an arrow is a minor injury, but I assure you that it is not. You are not fit to carry out your duties, and if you insist on doing so, you will not only endanger yourself, but others as well, and that I will not have," Feren said firmly. "As for your other concerns, I will deal with them, as after all, those are my responsibilities."

Legolas regarded his brother sullenly. "But I have my orders from Bainion."

"And Bainion has my orders," Feren said shortly. "It was folly of him to send so few of you out when he knew that there were orcs present in the area."

An elf approached with a cup and handed it to Feren. The latter took it with a nod of thanks and held it out for Legolas to drink.

"What is it?" Legolas asked apprehensively.

"It will help you sleep so that you will have the strength to travel tomorrow," his brother said, pressing the cup to his lips.

Legolas took the cup into his hand. "I can drink it myself. I am not a complete invalid."

Feren smiled for the first time, as he watched his brother drain the cup. "There are times that I wish you were." He reached out and felt the younger elf's forehead.

Legolas swatted his hand away irritably. "I am fine, Feren."

His brother raised a brow and set aside the empty cup. "You should lie down and rest now." Without waiting for Legolas' response, he helped to ease his brother down onto the ground, frowning at the grimace of pain on the other's face.

"I will be fine, Feren. You need not hover over me, as I am certain you have many important things to tend to," Legolas said tiredly.

Feren pulled the blanket over his brother. "And I am tending to one of them now. I will stay until you have fallen asleep, and then I will have Hesin watch over you while I make arrangements for our journey back to the stronghold tomorrow."

"I do not need watching over," Legolas said, his words already blurred by the effects of the potent tea.

His brother brushed a gentle hand over his hair. "Rest, Legolas. It will not be an easy journey home, for any one of us."

"Please do not let Arphen die," Legolas muttered on a breath before sleep finally overcame him.

Feren's hand remained on his brother's head, as he watched the sleeping face with a weariness of one who had seen far too many deaths in his lifetime. "I wish I have such powers, Legolas."

TBC