Disclaimer and Acknowledgement: As in Chapter 1

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Chapter 8 – Rest While You Can

"Look at them Medovir! What harm can they do if you let them stay for a few days?" another man beside the Chief spoke up. "As your advisor, I think I have a say too. You are so rigid sometimes. Rules are set by humans, they can be bent."

"Fine, Dergth! Do whatever you want!" the Chief yelled at his advisor and stomped off.

"Take him into the healing house, Deyron " Dergth instructed the healer as Varil’s father relieved him of the child.

Deyron lifted Legolas carefully and hurried towards a small hut while Dergth helped Aragorn up onto his feet, bearing most of the ranger’s weight. The ranger slumped heavily against Dergth, his strength almost gone now that the adrenaline rush was over. The pain in his chest and ankle magnified themselves and the ranger could not stop the whimper that slipped from his lips.

"It’s alright. I will help you," the village advisor reassured the young man. "Lean on me."

*****

The healing house was small but warm and comfortable, a small fire burning brightly in a corner and a kettle of water was bubbling over the flame. Laying the elf down on a soft straw mat, Deyron retrieved a basin and a clean towel from a four-tier shelf. Mixing some warm water in the basin, the healer cleaned the blood off Legolas’ face.

"I need my pack," Aragorn said as Dergth helped him into the hut, "I have some herbs that could help him."

Dergth nodded. "I will send for Notiviel and Varil."

"Thank you," the ranger expressed his gratitude. "We owe you our lives."

Turning to Deyron after Dergth had exited, Aragorn requested for some items that he needed; a small knife, bandages, needle and thread. Running the blade of the knife through the fire to disinfect it, he set it aside to cool. With Deyron’s help, the two healers removed Legolas’ tunic and the makeshift bandages, exposing his bare chest. Wiping his hands on a set of clean towel, he took up the knife and pressed the tip into Legolas’ chest, making an incision of about two inches in length at where the broken rib lay. The elf gasped as the knife cut into his skin but the pain was negligible compared to what was about to come.

Digging his fingers into the elf’s chest, the ranger pulled out the broken rib that had protruded into his lung. The elven prince writhed in agony and his heart-wrenching scream shattered the peace of the evening. Aragorn tried to shut out the tortured sound and concentrated hard on what he was doing but the screams tore at his heart especially when he was the one causing the pain. He was therefore grateful when the elf lapsed into unconsciousness which would allow him to work faster and more efficiently knowing that the prince would not feel the pain. After sewing up the punctured wound, he cleared out the blood which was pooled inside Legolas’ chest cavity as best as he could and sutured the incision on his chest neatly.

Just when he was done, Dergth returned with Varil and his family. The boy sauntered in behind his parents along with his sister, the young girl whom had embraced him when he had returned. Notiviel handed Aragorn’s pack to Deyron and moved some distance away so as not to disturb the healers.

Washing his bloodied hands in the basin, the ranger asked for a bowl of hot water and crushed some athelas leaves into the wooden container. The sweet scent of the healing herb filled the room and its occupants relaxed a little in the cleansing aroma. Wringing out a towel, he bathed Legolas’ chest with the solution gently and then bound up his chest again. With the more pressing injury out of the way, Aragorn proceeded to tend to the elf’s other wounds, making a proper sling for his broken arm and replacing the bandage around his temple after applying some athelas paste that he had made earlier onto the gash. Finishing his ministration finally, the ranger leaned back against the wall and let out a deep sigh, his eyes finally closing in total exhaustion.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see the sun shining brightly in the sky through an open window, an indication that a new day had come. He found himself lying next to Legolas, both of them tucked securely under respective blankets. His chest and ankle was bound neatly and the pain had lessened to a much more tolerable level. Sighing gratefully for Deyron’s help, Aragorn pushed himself up gingerly and checked on Legolas.

The prince was still asleep, dark circles colored the skin under his closed eyes. He was still cold to the touch but was much better compared to the day before. The bruising on his chest had faded a little but had also spread to his abdomen, a fact which worried Aragorn immensely. He believed that the elf had suffered some other internal injuries which he could not detect. Only his father would be able to treat such wounds.

Legolas moaned softly as Aragorn pulled the blanket back up to his shoulders and his eyes fluttered open.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" the ranger apologized.

The elf blinked a few times and then smiled up at him, something he thought he would never see again yesterday. Aragorn returned the warm smile and helped Legolas sit up per his request, propping him against the wall with two pillows.

"How do you feel?" Aragorn sat down beside the elf and tucked a lock of his stray blond hair behind his ears.

Legolas took a moment to take inventory of the various aches and pains in his body before replying his friend.

"Head and chest still hurt but not as bad," the elf’s voice sounded weak even to himself. He had no idea how close to death he had been a few hours ago. Inhaling deeply, he realized that he could breathe without too much pain.

"I can breathe easier."

"Good. At least something good came out of those boring healing lessons I took." Aragorn’s joke drew a small laugh from Legolas which turned into a cough.

The prince groaned and clutched at his chest. "Don’t make me laugh, Strider. It hurts."

"Ahh… I’m sorry. But I can’t help it if I’m funny."

Legolas snorted and swatted at the ranger with his good arm but Aragorn dodged it expertly.

"I see you’re feeling better." The kind voice of a woman brought their attention to the door. "I’m Belphena, Varil’s mother," the woman introduced herself and then motioned towards the young girl behind her. "And this is Chandril, his sister."

Chandril was bearing a tray of bread, fruits and water. She followed her mother into the hut and set the tray down onto the floor.

"We brought you breakfast. Thought you may be hungry," she said shyly.

"Thank you," Aragorn and Legolas replied in unison and the two friends grinned at each other.

"It is I who should say thank you… for saving my son." Belphena approached the duo and settled down beside them. "Too bad Herbenna’s son was never found."

"Her son ran away too?" Aragorn asked as he picked up a piece of bread and passed it to Legolas who accepted gratefully.

"Yes," Chandril said and then paused. "Herbenna begged the Chief to send someone to look for him but..." she trailed off and shrugged, "you know the rule..."

Aragorn nodded sadly and sighed. If they hadn’t found Varil, he would have suffered the same fate.

*****

To Be Continued...

A/N: See? No evil cliffie :P *angelic smile* And no more evil cliffies for a loooooooong time.