See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Chapter 13 - The Journey Home

The shadows were growing longer now as the day drew languidly to a close. As the sun sank lower in the horizon, it took with it the warmth of the day, leaving a distinct coolness in the late spring air. Legolas, however, took little notice of these subtle changes taking place about him. Indeed, it was difficult to take notice of anything else other than the incessant throbbing in his arm and the draining weariness that had been making itself known more and more over the past several hours. Perhaps he should have allowed his brother to drug him into a senseless stupour after all, he thought wryly. At least his body would be thankful for such blissful oblivion, if not his pride.

Legolas shifted on his horse and decided that there really was not a position that his body would find less painful. His gaze fell on the back of Feren, riding behind a small group of able warriors who were leading the way. Since their less than amicable exchange of words this morning, his brother had not made the effort to speak to him again, at least not directly. A part of him was unnerved by his brother's action, or rather, his lack of action. It was highly uncharacteristic of Feren, especially in light that he, Legolas, was riding with an injury. He had expected his brother to fuss endlessly over him on this journey home.

But did you not drive him away yourself? Did you not tell him, in no uncertain words, that your wellbeing was of your own concern, and not his? The memory of their exchange came back to him, unbidden. He shifted his position again, and this time, it was not due to his discomfort, but rather to a growing sense of unease that perhaps he had pushed past his brother's limits of indulgence on this occasion. His gaze fell on his brother's unresponsive back again, almost willing the other to turn and acknowledge him.

Of all three of his brothers, Feren perhaps was the one that he did not always feel at ease with. That was not to say that he doubted in any way Feren's love for him which, he knew deep down in his heart, was no less than that of his other two brothers.

Aldeon had always catered to his every whim, to the point that even Thranduil himself had been exasperated at times by the conduct of the overly doting brother. Tavaro, on the other hand, had teased him endlessly, though he too, more often than not, would give in to the wishes of his young brother, even if he did so in a more roundabout way. Most of all, Tavaro was the only one who often treated him like an equal, rather than as an elfling in constant need of coddling and protection.

Feren was not one for teasing, but he certainly had no qualms at all in forbidding Legolas from doing anything that, in his opinion, was foolish or dangerous or both, frowning all the while with an intensity that had always intimidated his young brother. Indeed, Legolas found Feren far more intimidating than even Thranduil himself. Perhaps as the commander of the King's troops, it was necessary for Feren to maintain such an imposing presence. As an elfling, Legolas had found his brother's daunting demeanor at times frightening. As he grew older, he was tempted from time to time to rebel against the rigidity set by this brother, and did so. And now as a warrior, it was difficult to always remember that beyond the family's private quarters, Feren was his commander, and any word of disagreement could be construed as an act of insubordination.

Legolas suddenly wondered if Feren would have allowed another warrior to speak to him so disrespectfully. But then, unlike him, few warriors were brave or perhaps foolish enough to risk the wrath of their commander. Suddenly, he was filled with a sense of shame. Feren owed no explanation to him of his intentions. Feren was his commander, and he was but a lowly, inexperienced warrior after all. When he had demanded from Feren the reason for his current presence, he had acted like a willful child. Legolas grimaced. It would seem that he had much to learn yet, and no doubt Feren had already reached that realization as well. He wondered, with no small amount of despondency, if his brother would reassign him to the Home Guards once he was deemed fit for duty. It would be a just punishment, he thought grimly.

His train of morose thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a rider hurrying past him, coming to an abrupt halt at the side of his brother. Instinctively, Legolas swept his eyes about him, searching for any sign of danger even as his hand reached automatically for the bow that was no longer there, only to remember that his brother had confiscated his bow, as well as his twin set of knives. Legolas let out an exasperated sigh. How was he to defend himself, and others, if he was weaponless?

Unconsciously, he leaned forward on his horse, trying to catch what was being said between his brother and the other warrior. There was a certain urgency in the warrior's voice and Legolas could make out the words 'Arphen' and 'bleeding'. Even before he could react to those words, Feren and the warrior were already riding past him, making their way toward the rear of the group. Legolas glanced briefly at Hesin beside him and quickly turned his horse around as well, his heart thumping with growing concern for his injured fellow warrior.

Legolas pulled his horse to a stop and awkwardly dismounted, having the use of only one arm for balance. As his feet touched the ground, his knees suddenly buckled and he would have fallen had Hesin's supporting hand not reached him in time and gripped him firmly by the elbow of his good arm.

"Are you all right, Legolas?" Hesin asked sharply.

Legolas drew in a shaky breath and pulled his arm free. "I am fine. I am a little stiff from the ride, that is all." He did not see the near frantic look of concern on his brother's face, nor did he see the involuntary move that Feren had made toward him before it was halted by Hesin's quick reaction. Legolas' attention was completely drawn to the words being spoken by one of the warriors who had been tending to Arphen.

"He is bleeding heavily again. The herbs that we have available cannot seem to keep the bleeding in check for any length of time. The wound should show signs of closing by now, but it does not." The warrior gave his commander an anxious look. "I am afraid the arrow that pierced him was poisoned, and unfortunately we do not have what is needed to counter that poison."

There was a low moan from Arphen as new layers of bandages were wrapped firmly around his wound. His head lolled weakly against the shoulder of the warrior who was supporting him and his breathing came in short, painful gasps.

"He is in pain," Feren said to no one in particular.

"Aye, we have given him enough of the sleeping draught that he should be nowhere near the waking state, but it appears that the pain is so severe that he does not even have the mercy of a drugged sleep. He needs a healer," the warrior said with a helpless sigh.

The frown deepened on Feren's face. "I know, but we need to stop for the night. We have been travelling without rest since this morning. The injured among us need to rest."

Legolas opened his mouth to protest, and just as quickly, he clamped it shut. He had nearly questioned Feren's command again. Had he not learned his lesson yet?

"Make him as comfortable as you are able. We will resume our journey at first light tomorrow morning," Feren said and rose to his feet. His eyes caught those of Legolas and the two brothers regarded each other without speaking for a long moment. With an effort, Legolas lowered his gaze and moved to drop down carefully by the side of the now quiet Arphen.

"What can I do to help?" he asked the warrior who had been tending the injured warrior.

The warrior gave him a quick smile. "You are injured yourself."

Legolas gave an impatient shake of his head. "I am fine."

"You may watch over him while my companion and I go see if others need our care," the warrior said.

Legolas nodded and then turned to Hesin. "You really do not need to hover over me. I will be fine here. You are probably needed elsewhere." He noted, with mixed emotions, that Feren was no longer with them.

Hesin settled down beside the two injured elves with an easy smile. "I know where I am needed." He handed Legolas a water skin.

Legolas threw him a look of vexation before accepting the proffered water skin from which he drank gratefully. Afterwards, he returned his attention to the still form before him. "Will he be all right?"

Hesin did not immediately reply. "I do not know, Legolas. The wound is a serious one, even without the added complication of poison."

Legolas bit his lip. "We have lost Tithernon already. We cannot lose Arphen as well." He looked over to where four blanketed bundles were still strapped to the horses, a bleak, poignant reminder of the cost of their latest battle. It was difficult to believe that both Tithernon and Arphen had been speaking and laughing but two days ago. He thought of the comfortable rapport that they had been developing with each other over the past two months, the easy manner with which the two older warriors had shared with him their considerable experience, and the secure feeling knowing that each was watching out for the others as they confronted danger together. Something hot pricked his eyes and he quickly averted his face, away from the watchful gaze of Hesin.

"I have been a warrior in these border patrols for more years than I care to count, and yet losing a fellow warrior never gets easier. It is akin to losing a part of your family, a family forged in the face of danger," Hesin said quietly.

Legolas kept his face turned. "Elves are supposed to be immortal. We should not be plagued by death."

Hesin let out a long sigh. "We should not, but we have come to know death with far too much familiarity in recent years. Perhaps it is a test of our strength by the Valar."

Legolas shook his head in non-comprehension. Hesin smiled sadly. "I do not understand it either. You should rest, Legolas. I will keep watch over Arphen."

"I am fine," the younger elf responded automatically,

"Do not give your brother further cause to worry. He has enough to deal with as it is," Hesin said quietly.

Legolas frowned and was about to question Hesin as to the meaning of his words when a sudden sharp stab of pain coursed through his arm, making him gasp involuntarily.

"Legolas?" Hesin immediately leaned forward, his eyes carefully scrutinizing the other's pain-tightened features.

"It is all right," Legolas let out a shaky breath. "This arm is hurting more than it should at times, considering it is no more than a flesh wound."

Hesin was frowning at him. "You should rest."

This time Legolas did not protest. He leaned back against the trunk of a tree and closed his eyes. He was suddenly feeling all the exhaustion from the day's ride and sleep overtook him almost immediately. He did not rouse when gentle hands eased him onto freshly spread blankets, nor was he awake when his brother took Hesin's place to continue the watch over him.

xxxxxxx

In the end, it was the burning pain in his arm that drew him from the depths of sleep. With a groan, he opened his eyes and was met with darkness. For several seconds, he blinked in confusion before he realized that night had fallen. The sharp pain stabbed at his arm again, making him gasp.

"Legolas?" a familiar voice sounded close at his side.

He turned his head slowly toward the source of the voice. "Feren?"

"How do you feel? Would you like some water?"

Even before he could answer, Feren had slipped a hand under his head and was pressing a cup to his lips. He drank deeply, relishing the coolness of the liquid on his parched throat. As his brother turned to set the cup aside, Legolas pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, grimacing at the fresh wave of pain coursing through his arm. The intensity of the pain surprised him. Surely such a relatively minor wound should not be causing so much discomfort.

"How is your arm?" Feren was once again watching him closely.

"It - it hurts a little," Legolas admitted.

From the light of a nearby campfire, he could see that his brother was frowning. Legolas looked about him, suddenly aware that something was amiss. "Where is Arphen? He was lying right here before I fell asleep. Where is he?"

"I am sorry, Legolas, we were unable to save him," Feren said quietly.

Legolas stared at his brother with disbelieving eyes. "He is dead?"

Feren nodded, his expression grim. "His wound had been a dangerous one. Weakened as he was, his body just could not fight the poison on its own."

Legolas shook his head as he struggled to come to terms with the news. "They are both gone now, Tithernon and Arphen. We fought together, and now they are gone."

His brother laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, Legolas. I know this is very difficult for you."

His eyes burned with threatened tears. "Did he suffer much before the end?"

"We did all that we could to ease his pain. He drew his last breath in his sleep," Feren answered.

Legolas felt a small measure of relief at his brother's words. "At least they now have each other for company. They were very dear friends of one another, Arphen and Tithernon." His breath hitched. "They were both very kind to me."

His brother's hand lingered on his shoulder. "I am very sorry, Legolas. I truly wish that I can spare you of this."

Legolas looked up and gave his brother a watery smile. "But you cannot. I am not the first warrior to suffer such a loss, nor will I be the last. That is the misfortune we face in our Woodland Realm." He lowered his eyes to avoid those of his brother. "Feren, I need to apologize for what I said to you earlier, and I am willing to accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. A good warrior should never question his superior."

His brother looked genuinely startled by his latest words. There was a considerable pause before Feren responded. "It is all right, Legolas. Apologies are not necessary. The past few days cannot have been easy for you."

Legolas looked up. "Feren, you should not excuse my behaviour simply because I am your brother."

His brother's lips twisted slightly. "I am not excusing you, Legolas. I am not in the habit of meting out punishment to my warriors simply because they speak out of turn. I believe I have already reprimanded you for what you said, and that is sufficient punishment as far as I am concerned." This time, he gave his brother a genuine smile. "I do not know what misconceptions you have of me, but I can assure you that I do not flog those under my command on a regular basis as punishment for their mishaps. As for questioning a superior's decision, that is an issue that we will discuss later. Right now, I want you to eat something and then rest. I have decided that you and I will ride ahead of the others at first light tomorrow. Hesin will accompany us."

Legolas frowned. "Why? Why are we riding ahead?"

There was a slight hesitation before his brother answered him. "We believe that the arrow that wounded you is also poisoned. The wound is not closing as it should and continues to bleed. It is best that we get you back to Kala's care as soon as possible."

"Poisoned?" Legolas echoed. "Do you mean that I will meet the same fate as Arphen?"

"No!" Feren's voice was sharp. "Nothing will happen to you. We will get back to the stronghold by tomorrow and you will be fine. You will be all right, Legolas. Trust me."

Legolas regarded his brother and nodded. "I do trust you, Feren. I always have, and I always will."

Feren reached out and drew him into a gentle embrace, taking care to avoid contact with his injured arm. "Nothing will happen to you, Legolas. I will not allow it."

Legolas rested his head on his brother's shoulder, taking comfort from the other's strength and assurance. "Thank you, Feren, for telling me the truth about the poison."

"You will be all right, Legolas," Feren repeated almost vehemently.

Legolas smiled wearily and closed his eyes as exhaustion began to claim him again. "I know, Feren. You will not have it otherwise."

TBC