Chapter Twenty Nine

Elrond had waited for almost an hour before taking one of the blankets off of Legolas. He wanted to be sure that all the cold had truly left the young elf’s body. He was sorely tempted to put his hand on Legolas’s forehead to confirm that fact, but he knew he had to heed his own earlier instructions not to touch him.

By the time the sun started to drop low in the sky, verified only by the encroaching darkness that had begun to spread under the thick canopy of trees, Legolas’s muscles had almost completely reversed themselves. Another hour, Elrond judged, and he could begin tending to the broken bones.

The archer had stopped moaning, which was encouraging to all that were keeping vigil. Both Thranduil and Aragorn had kept their hands from straying toward Legolas, although it had been an incredibly hard thing for each of them to do. Elrond couldn’t help but silently commend both of them for their restraint, when he was sure their hearts were aching to give comforting touches to Legolas, as the pain wracked his lithe frame.

The raven-haired elf lord had sent his twin sons out into the forest to gather wood. Glorfindel had volunteered to get the packs from the horses and see what he could prepare for the evening meal. He knew he would never win any contests with his cooking, but he didn’t really think anyone would be complaining---too much.

Elrond unfastened Legolas’s tunic and silk shirt and examined his chest and ribcage. There didn’t seem to be any broken ribs, much to Elrond’s surprise and relief.

By the time Elrond had refastened Legolas‘s shirt and tunic, the twins had returned, each with a load of small branches in their arms and twigs and bits of dried grass in their hands. They both put their burdens down and began to lay the grass in a pile on a spot devoid of grass. A few sparks from a flint and the dead grass began smoking. Elrohir bent down and blew on the pile until a tiny flame appeared. The twigs were added, and the flame began to rise a little higher. More and larger twigs were added until the crackling fire required the branches to sustain itself.

Several of the branches were broken and laid on the blaze that was now licking upward, spreading its warmth among the little group. Sparks flew upward and then winked out only to be replaced with more. So practiced were the twins that the whole task had taken less than three minutes to complete.

Elrond gave the pile of remaining branches a critical appraisal. He pointed to several. “Hand me those four,” he said, pointing to the ones he wanted, which consisted of two long and two shorter ones. When Elladan handed them to his father, Elrond held them up in front of him and nodded. “Cut each of these in half across and then split them lengthwise. I want to use them as splints for Legolas’s wrists and ankle.”

While Elrohir cut the two smaller branches in half and began splitting them, Elladan did the same with the longer ones. When they finished, they handed all the pieces to their father. He set them down on the ground beside him.

The elf lord looked up at Glorfindel, who had returned earlier with the packs, and then inclined his head toward Thranduil. The blond elf nodded in understanding. He bent down near the woodland king’s right ear. “Thranduil, let us take a walk. I am sure that your body could use a good stretch.” When Thranduil shook his head, Glorfindel became more insistent. “Elrond needs to tend to Legolas’s broken bones. We should leave him in peace to accomplish that task. You know it needs to be done.” He gripped the other blond elf’s shoulder.

Thranduil hesitated for only a moment. He knew the wisdom of Glorfindel’s words. With a resigned nod, he stood up and the two walked across the clearing. From the back, both elves looked very similar, though Thranduil was slightly taller.

Thranduil found that his muscles did indeed need stretching. He flexed his arms and arched backwards to get the kinks out of his back. He had to admit to himself that Glorfindel had been right.

“Do you feel better now?” the Rivendell elf asked, as much to distract the Mirkwood king as to gain any knowledge of his current condition.

“Yes,” Thranduil replied. Changing the subject, he said, “It is a true miracle that my son has returned,” There was no small measure of awe in his voice. “I never would have believed that such a wonderful thing was possible.”

The elven king had completely forgotten who it was he was talking to until Glorfindel said, “I know how that feels, although I cannot say my experience was anything close to what Legolas’s return may have been like.”

“Of course.” Thranduil nodded. “I had forgotten you also came back from the dead.”

A small smile touched Glorfindel’s lips. “Legolas and I will have to compare notes, when he recovers.” His tone became more serious. “And, he will recover, Thranduil.” Glorfindel did not think Elrond would approve of his giving such assurances, when the outcome was still so far from certain. But, he decided that sharing his own feeling of hope was the kinder thing to do. Right now, Thranduil needed to believe his son would be all right. Time enough later to face a harsher truth, if that proved to be the case.

Thranduil nodded. “Thank you for your encouragement.” He looked at the other blond-haired elf. “You and I have not been the best of friends for most of the centuries that we have known each other.”

“No, we have not,” Glorfindel laughed lightly. “Things change. So do people.” He laughed a little harder. “Even elves.”

A smile graced the wood elf’s face, but he made no further comment. The two stood in silence, as both looked out into the darkening forest.

Elrond had thought to have Elladan aid him in his application of the splints and bandages. However, when he saw the look in Estel’s eyes, as he looked at Legolas, he knew his foster son wanted desperately to do something to help his friend. Elrond knew that Estel was experienced enough as a healer to be able to do what he must and not be distracted by the fact that it was Legolas he was tending. He had certainly done it often enough during some of their adventures.

Making up his mind, the elf lord touched the man on the shoulder. “Estel, will you aid me?”

The young man looked at Elrond and almost smiled. “Yes, Ada. I want to help Legolas any way I can.”

*How well I know,* Elrond thought to himself. Out loud, he said, “Go around to Legolas’s left side.” Aragorn did so, kneeling down. He knew the procedure well, having done it many times with his father, but he respectfully waited for Elrond‘s instructions.

The elf lord searched in the small pack containing his healing herbs and an assortment of bandages that lay beside him, having been placed there by Elrohir, who had returned to the horses earlier to retrieve it. Elrond pulled out a large piece of white cloth that was folded over several times. He measured by sight the size of the pieces he would require and then began to tear the cloth.

Elrond motioned for Aragorn to lift Legolas’s left arm by putting his hands, palms up, one under the elf‘s hand and the other a little above his wrist and raise it several inches above the elf’s chest.

Elrond gently probed the wrist, locating the site of the break and making sure it was the simple fracture he believed it to be. Satisfied, he wrapped one of the smaller pieces of cloth around Legolas‘s hand, so the wood would neither chafe nor embed splinters in the archer’s flesh. He then placed one of the smaller pieces of split wood against the cloth on the back of his hand from the base of his fingers to several inches above his wrist. He placed the second small piece of wood on the palm side of the elf’s hand.

While Aragorn held the wood pieces in place, Elrond gathered a long strip of cloth and tore a piece from it. He began to wind it around Legolas’s hand from the middle of his thumb up to the other end of the splint and back down again. As he came near the end of the cloth, he tore it in two, tying a knot at the base of the two pieces. He wound the remaining lengths in opposite directions and then tied them together in another snug knot. He carefully flexed the elf’s fingers to make sure that they were all that would move. He was pleased to see that Legolas‘s hand remained immobile within the splint and lightly wrapped bandage.

Elrond and Aragorn went through the exact same procedure for Legolas’s right hand. Both arms were then laid across his stomach rather than down by his sides, so that there would be no way anyone could accidentally hit them. They were secure but no use taking unnecessary chances.

“Now, the more difficult task.” Elrond said softly, as he moved down toward the archer’s feet, pulling the blanket all the way off of the elf’s body and setting it aside for the time being. Aragorn also moved and settled opposite his father.

Aragorn didn’t know if Elrond had been referring to a more severe break or the fact that Legolas’s boot would have to be removed first. So, he asked, “Do you think the break is worse in his ankle?”

“I fear that it may be, but removing his boot and binding the ankle securely will, in themselves, be more difficult.”

Elrond placed his palms along each side of the archer’s lower leg and slowly and gently slid them down into the boot. It made for a very snug fit but finally Elrond had the tips of his long fingers curled under the bottom of Legolas’s foot. “Estel, slowly pull his boot off.”

Aragorn nodded and began to pull firmly but as gently as he could. He had to make the move in a smooth continuous motion, because rocking the boot back and forth to loosen it would bring much more pain and possibly increase the severity of the break. He stopped when Legolas moaned, but Elrond nodded for him to continue. There was just no way to make this maneuver painless.

Another moan, louder this time, escaped Legolas, as the boot came free. His leg jerked in reaction, but Elrond’s grip held firm. He lifted the elf’s foot and held it toward Aragorn, who took it and held it in the palms of his hands.

Elrond’s gentle fingers now probed around the site of the break the same way he had done with the elf’s wrists. He found what he feared he would find and sighed. “The bone has separated across the break line.” He paused. “Due I’m sure, to the wrenching of the muscles,” he added hastily before Estel had the chance to feel guilty that pulling the boot off had caused the separation. “I must put the bone together, and it will cause further hurt.”

Elrond motioned for Elrohir to kneel at Legolas’s head. The elf came immediately and knelt down. He had been through many of these types of care and knew what to do. He leaned over Legolas with his forearms resting across both of the younger elf’s shoulders.

Elladan moved over beside the archer, reached out and held both of his arms, so he could not do harm to the recently splinted wrists. When the twins had the young elf secure, they nodded to their father.

Elrond placed one of his own knees over Legolas’s right leg to secure it. Then, he took the archer’s foot from Aragorn, who then wrapped his arms firmly around Legolas’s left knee and straightening the leg out. He knew it had to be kept as immobile as possible.

Elrond began to both twist and push, realigning the ends of the bone back against each other. He stopped only long enough to feel if the bone had been realigned. He felt that it needed a bit more maneuvering.

Legolas jerked his leg and cried out. Aragorn, however, was prepared for the movement and held fast to his friend’s leg. The elf tried to rise up and when he was unable to do so, he turned to roll onto his side. Both movements were blocked by Elrohir holding his shoulders fast to the ground. His struggles finally stopped when Elrond completed putting the bone together. However, the moans continued for several more moments.

Thranduil started to run toward his son when his cries first began, but Glorfindel grabbed his arm and stayed him. “Let them work.” He felt the elf king trembling. “Whatever they are doing is necessary. You can return to him, when they are finished.”

Thranduil nodded but did not remark on Glorfindel’s words. His eyes never left his son and the group that were working on him.

When Elrond was satisfied that both sections of the bone were in their proper place, he once again placed the foot in Aragorn’s hands. After wrapping the largest piece of cloth around the foot, Elrond took up the four longer pieces of wood and placed one on each side of the ankle bone on the left side and the same on the right side.

Elladan held all four pieces of the splint in place, as Elrond took the longest strip of cloth and began winding it first around the insole of Legolas’s foot and then up his leg to the end of the wooden pieces. He wound the cloth back down, back up and down once again, tearing the end in two and knotting it to match what he had done with the elf’s wrists.

The elf lord turned the leg so that the foot would rest mostly on its side and laid it down gently on the blanket. He then sat back on his heels and sighed. He surveyed all his handiwork to make sure he had not missed anything. He nodded in satisfaction. Looking at all three of his sons, he said, “Thank you, my sons, for your help. I think that we have done all that we can do for now.”

Elrohir asked, “What about his muscles? Surely they are stretched and torn.” Just saying the words was painful to the younger twin. He consciously pushed the visual memory from his mind.

“Yes, I am sure most of them are. But, I am afraid there is nothing we can do to remedy that. The muscles and the bones, as well, will now have to heal on their own. I pray that the venom did not harm his natural elven healing ability.”

Aragorn’s eyes went wide. That idea had never occurred to him. “Do you think that might have happened?”

Elrond shook his head. “I do not know. The poison’s continued effects are as new to me as they are to you. As I have said before, no one else has ever survived it, so whatever happens now is new territory to us all.” He reached for the blanket to put back over Legolas.

When Thranduil saw Elrond pull the blanket back over his son, he could wait no longer. He rushed to Legolas’s side and sat down. Unable to hold him, the elf king placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and just sat and stared at his less than peaceful face. Legolas’s eyes were still closed, but still he hopefully asked, “Does he sleep?”

“It is not a true sleep. I can only assume that his mind and body are attempting to heal themselves.” Thranduil had apparently not heard the remarks about Legolas’s healing ability possibly being damaged by the venom, so he did not want to mention it again. Time enough to discuss such matters later.

Elrond looked up at Glorfindel, who was just retuning to the group from the campfire several feet away. “I imagine we are all hungry.” He didn’t really believe that, but maybe it would serve to take everyone’s mind off of recent events.

Glorfindel nodded. “I will get the meal started.” With that statement, he turned toward the packs sitting near the fire. *Time to cook,* he told himself, as he bent down and began to pull the food supplies out into the light of the fire.

Silence descended over the group, as each was occupied with their own thoughts.

Finally, Elrohir broke that silence. “When do we leave for Rivendell?” he asked.

“Tomorrow,” Elrond replied without explanation.

While everyone was contemplating that, Glorfindel announced that the meal was ready. It took a bit of persuasion on Elrond’s part to get Thranduil to leave Legolas long enough to get something to eat. The wood elf was reluctant, saying he needed nothing, but the elf lord convinced him that he needed to keep his strength up, because the journey back to Rivendell would likely be a difficult one.

TBC