Chapter Thirty

It took some persuading from Elrond, but everyone in the group surrounding Legolas ate at least a little food. Glorfindel had been right, no one complained about the meal. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that it consisted of dried meat and dried fruit, reconstituted with some water and lightly seasoned with a couple of non-medicinal herbs. Even Glorfindel knew he couldn’t have messed that up too badly.

The group sat around in the flickering light of the campfire, silently contemplating everything that had happened since they arrived at the valley forest. The overriding emotion for them all was boundless joy that Legolas had somehow survived the venomous poison of the snake, though it had been a harrowing thing to witness. They had begged Eru to spare the young elf’s life, and now that stunning event had taken place.

Elladan had spread everyone’s blankets out in a circle around the fire. However, no one was using them for anything more than something to sit on. No one wanted to sleep. If forced to admit it, no one could be sure that Legolas would not suffer some form of setback during the night. Or worse, if he died while they slept, this time never to return, the guilt would have been staggering. It was not something that could be ignored, but no one wanted to dwell on it, either.

Elrohir had volunteered to keep watch. Elladan, laughing and using the excuse that he had no blanket, said he would keep his brother company. Both Mordraug and the snake were dead, but there were other things in the forest that could pose a danger to the group. Aragorn had not forgotten that Legolas had told him that he had been held in front of Mordraug by two orcs. It was doubtful that suddenly leaderless orcs would attack, even had there been more of them under Mordraug’s command. But, it was always prudent to be on guard.

The twins left to take up their position on one side of the clearing where they would remain before working their way around the clearing just inside the edge of the trees. Whenever the two stood guard, they sometimes went together and sometimes separately, moving in opposite directions, as they patrolled whatever area they were responsible for at the time. Whichever they chose, they were always determined that nothing would get past their notice. This night was no different.

Before either twin could say anything to the other, they both heard neighing through the trees to their left. Elrohir frowned. He had been the one to go and tend the horses earlier, and he didn’t think that any of them had gone running off through the forest, yet the sound was not only much farther away than it should have been but coming from the wrong direction.

Elladan saw the confused look on his brother’s face and laughed. “That must be Elenblaith. You forgot about him, did you not? He is reminding you of that fact, I think.”

“I forgot?” Elrohir said, raising his eyebrows much the way he had seen his father do so many times in the past. “You mean we forgot.”

Elladan shook his head. “Nay, brother. You tended the horses. That made him your responsibility.” He grinned broadly. “You had better go find him before he comes after you first. Like his master, he is very headstrong.”

Elrohir gave an exasperated sigh and trotted off into the trees. Fifteen minutes later, he returned. “He snapped at me,” the younger twin declared incredulously, holding out his right hand to indicate which member of his anatomy had been in peril.

All Elladan could do was laugh. He knew Elenblaith would never actually bite an elf, but if Elrohir wanted to believe the horse really tried to take a chunk out of him, as payment for being neglected, Elladan wasn’t going to destroy his illusion. The picture Elladan had in his mind of what must have happened made him laugh all the harder.

Elrohir only scowled at the lack of sympathy he was getting from his twin. He rubbed his hand, as if it actually had been bitten.

Elrond had heard the gray stallion’s discontented attempts to get attention and had chuckled to himself when Elrohir had run off to round up the forgotten animal. Legolas would have been very unhappy to learn his horse had not been tended to, though the stallion was certainly capable of taking care of himself. The elf lord continued to chuckle at the twins’ conversation, when Elrohir retuned. He shook his head. His sons never ceased to amuse and often confound him, even after all these years.

Elrond’s eyes then swept around the campsite. Glorfindel was rearranging the contents of the food packs. Aragorn and Thranduil were still sitting beside Legolas, who was still in a deep healing sleep. At least, that is what Elrond hoped. He still could not be sure that the elf’s inborn healing ability had not been damaged by the venom. It had all happened too recently. Time seemed to be the only thing that would reveal the answer.

All became quiet and settled, so now, it was time for the elf lord to ponder just how they were going to get Legolas back to Rivendell as quickly and distress-free as possible. He had already dismissed the idea of lashing Legolas to a makeshift litter and pulling it behind one of the horses. To go slow enough to keep from jostling the archer unmercifully would mean their horses would have to walk all the way back to Rivendell. That would mean they would be on the road for several weeks. Unacceptable.

That left the two ways he was now trying to decide between. One was to simply remain where they were. That may have been by far the easiest thing to do but not the best thing. They needed to return to Rivendell without delay. Therefore, it didn’t take the elf lord long to also dismiss this second choice.

There was but one possibility open to them. Legolas would have to be put on a horse with someone holding him. Elrond shook his head, knowing that Thranduil would allow no one else to do that particular task but him. Riding this way would be much quicker, but then again, it would be much more painful for the young prince. Elrond did not fear for his broken bones, which were now securely splinted. However, his muscles would be so tender, a mere touch could bring spasms of agony, so holding him on a horse would most certainly prove to be almost as unbearable for him as what he had just gone through with the poison.

Elrond lowered his eyes and spotted his healing pack, which still sat next to his right leg. With a sigh, he knew the only thing to do was to drug Legolas into a near coma that would be so deep he could feel no pain no matter what was done to him. It was not Elrond’s first choice of something to do. Considering his current condition, there was always the chance that the young elf could not be brought back to full consciousness. It was only a remote chance, but one that did exist. He decided that getting Legolas to Rivendell as soon as possible was worth the risk. A travel pack with only a limited amount of healing herbs was not going to be enough. The elf lord needed the availability of his extensive collection of herbs and potions that could be found only in Imladris.

Making up his mind, Elrond sighed. He looked up and saw that Thranduil had laid down as close as he dared next to Legolas. The elven king was lying on his side, and his eyes were focused on his son. Elrond didn’t believe Thranduil would be getting any sleep this night.

Elrond then leaned toward Estel. and whispered into the man’s ear that he should lie down also. He thought that perhaps, once Estel had put his head down, he would drift off to sleep. His voice was soft and soothing, almost hypnotic. It was a trick he had used years ago to get an overly energetic human child to find the sleep he needed. Estel may be an adult, but he hoped it would work now, as well.

Aragorn reached out and lay his hand on a portion of Legolas’s silky hair that was partly fanned out around the elf’s head. It was the only part of his friend the ranger could touch and know he would not cause further suffering.

Elrond watched as Estel’s emotionally exhausted mind and weary body then gave in to their demands for rest. His eye lids were fighting to remain open, but they were losing the battle. It took all of two minutes for the man to surrender to the darkness. Elrond smiled.

~*~*~

The night passed uneventfully. Just as Elrond had thought, Thranduil never entered the realm of elven dreams. His eyes remained focused. He was determined that he would be the first one to become aware of any change in Legolas’s condition. There had been none. The young wood elf had remained unconscious and quiet through the night.

Glorfindel, who had managed a few hours of sleep, had relieved the twins on watch, so that they could also get some rest. He was as aware as anyone that the trip back to Rivendell could turn out to be an ordeal.

Elrond, himself, had gone to sleep right after the twins.

~*~*~

With a jerk, the Lord of Imladris came awake. He lay still, listening. No unnatural sounds reached his keen ears. He frowned, not knowing what had awakened him so suddenly. Then, it came to him. It had been a dream---a very disturbing dream about Mordraug.

Elrond sat up and shivered, remembering the dream and the cold hatred in Mordraug’s eyes, as the dark elf had laughed manically, repeating over and over that Leoglas was doomed by the poison, never to break free of its horrific grip, never to find peace from the pain that would wrack his body, the hopelessness that would plague his mind or the darkness that would inhabit his soul.

Elrond knew the power of dreams. Some made no sense and never amounted to anything. Some were very accurate portents of things to come. Which would this prove to be? For real, Mordraug had told them all that the effects of the poison in Legolas’s body could never be reversed. That had proven to be untrue. Could the fact that Mordraug had also said the poison could not be removed be a lie, as well? Or, could that be the one thing that turned out to be accurate?

Surely, Legolas had not gone through so much and survived an evil that no one else ever had only to continue to suffer and then perhaps to succumb later on from the lingering effects of the venom. However, Elrond knew all too well that life, be it moral or immortal, was not always just. The innocent sometimes suffered, and the guilty sometimes went unpunished. He could only hope that Legolas’s ordeal would soon end, and the young elf would recover fully. The guilty, in this case Mordraug, certainly was punished for what he had done, though the ending of his one miserable life could never make up for all the elven deaths that his evil had caused.

Elrond closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.

“Ada, what is wrong?” came a voice from the ground. It was Aragorn’s voice. The ranger couldn’t understand what was causing his father to display such despair. When the man had awakened just a moment ago, he eyes had gone straight to Legolas. The steady rise and fall of the elf’s chest told him his friend was still alive and resting peacefully. Why, then, was his father seemingly distraught?

“Estel, I did not know you were awake.” He saw the concern on his son’s face, as he sat up and faced his father. “It was just a dream.” He hoped the man would not question him further. He really didn’t want to explain the dream, knowing how it would upset the young man. Fortunately, Aragorn just accepted Elrond’s word and nodded. He knew if his father did not want to discuss something, he became inscrutable, and then nothing and no one could get information from him.

The dense forest, nestled as it was down between high cliffs, would take longer to show signs of the coming day than the outside world would. Yet, Elrond could sense that the dawn was fast approaching.

He looked up when he saw Elladan sit up and rub his eyes. The young elf smiled, when he spotted his father looking at him. Rising, he said, “I will go for more wood to stoke up the fire.”

Elrond nodded. “That would be much appreciated,” the elf lord replied, returning the smile. He noticed that Elrohir was just rousing himself.

The brief conversation had not gone unnoticed by Thranduil, who now sat up. Pulling his eyes from Legolas, he inquired of the dard-haired elf lord, “Are we still leaving for Rivendell today?”

“Yes.” Elrond now adopted a small frown. “Thranduil, there is something I must tell you.”

Thranduil almost panicked, his eyes turning toward Legolas, afraid that he had somehow missed something that had happened to his son during the night.

Seeing the look, Elrond quickly said, “No. Nothing more has happened to Legolas. What I need to tell you is that the fastest way we can get Legolas to Rivendell is by someone holding him on a horse.”

Thranduil nodded, fully understanding the logic of what Elrond was saying. He declared firmly, “He will ride with me.”

“I expected nothing else. However, the problem is that his muscles will be extremely tender and holding him will be very painful for him. To prevent such suffering, I will need to give him something that will put him into a near coma.” Elrond stopped, knowing Thranduil would interrupt, if he tried to continue. He waited for the wood elf’s reaction.

“You cannot mean that,” Thranduil said in total disbelief. “He was in a coma for over two weeks, and did you and your sons not work tirelessly to bring him out of it? You cannot seriously want to put him back...” He stopped, unable to adequately express his astonishment.

With a sigh, Elrond continued. “Want to, no. I do not want to, but I believe it must be done. I know it does not sound logical, but it is the best course of action we can take. Otherwise, Legolas will be in constant agony. You saw yourself his reaction, when I realigned the bone in his ankle. He is unconscious but not deeply enough to avoid feeling the kind of pain he would, as we travel. We must put him into a state of unconsciousness so deep that he cannot feel any discomfort. Only then, will he make the journey untroubled.”

Thranduil reached down and came very close to touching Legolas’s face. He pulled his hand back and shook his head, wanting only to make physical contact with his child.

There was no point in forbidding the touch. They would soon be touching him much more firmly. Elrond gave the elder blond elf a sympathetic smile. “You may touch him, Thranduil.” He watched as the Mirkwood king gently stroked his son’s cheek, both love and heartache in his blue-gray eyes.

Aragorn had not been surprised, when Elrond had explained about drugging the archer. As a healer himself, he had both seen and been a part of such a procedure. He was aware of the possible risk of being unable to wake Legolas, once they reached Rivendell. He didn’t think that Thranduil knew of this, but decided it was not his place to tell him. He would leave that decision up to his father.

Oddly enough, Elrond was thinking along the same lines. He was fighting his desire to be honest with Thranduil and at the same time, spare him more anxiety, especially since the course of action was set. Elrond close not to say anything about the risk. He only hoped he would not regret that decision later.

Elladan returned and built the fire up into a strong, steady flame. He had told Glorfindel, when passing him with the fire wood, that he would fix the morning meal. Glorfindel had thanked him and let out a sigh of relief. He was sure a good meal was in the offing.

After the meal was eaten, the blankets, except for the one under Legolas were folded and repacked. All the gear that they had used was taken to the horses and tied on. Only Elrond’s pack containing his healing herbs was left.

Water had been poured into a small cup that Elrond carried in the pack. Into it the elf lord put three dried leaves, one dark and two light green in color. Elrond set the cup at the edge of the fire and waited until he heard the water begin to hiss. Picking the cup up with the edge of his tunic to prevent the hot metal from burning his fingers, he stirred the contents with a smooth piece of wood, whose length had been shaved clean of bark.

Elrond had made the mixture stronger than needed, so that he could add water to cool it down but not dilute it too much. He handed the cup to Aragorn, who had replaced Thranduil on the other side of Legolas.

The elf lord sighed. Now, to wake Legolas so he could be given the herbs that would put the young wood elf back to into unconsciousness. If it hadn’t been such a serious situation, Elrond would have laughed at the very idea of doing something that appeared to be so ridiculously illogical.

TBC