Chapter Thirty Four

A dead silence fell over the room. There was not even the sound of a breath being drawn. All eyes were fastened on Legolas, except his eyes, of course, which were staring intently at Elrond.

The Lord of Rivendell was the first one to recover. He sat down beside Legolas on the bed. He was greatly affected by the desperate pleading in the young archer’s eyes. He took a deep breath, but before he could say a single word, Thranduil’s voice broke the silence, again demanding, “What is wrong with my son?”

Elrond knew the elven king was using his assertive personality and aggressive tone to hide his fear and sympathized with him, but a confrontation now would not be good. Elrond looked up at Thranduil and gave him a warning look. His desire to keep from upsetting Legolas any more than he already was far outweighed assuaging Thranduil at that moment.

By the look on elf king’s face, he understood and clamped his mouth shut. It was a big concession for the normally forceful king to make, but he realized that harsh words exchanged between himself and Elrond could be detrimental to the very one he wanted most to protect.

Elrond looked back at the confused face of the younger wood elf. “Legolas, I do not know what exactly is causing this problem. I suspect it is a result of the venom and all that you have suffered because of it.” He started to add the fact that he had just awakened from a drug-induced coma, but Legolas would only be further confused as to why that had been done to him. He suspected that Legolas probably did not remember what had happened after the final tortured attack had been carried out against him. Instead, Elrond simply said, “So. you must give your body time to heal itself.” He also stopped short of offering assurances. He didn’t know if all would be well, and he wasn’t going to offer any false hope. It was reality that would have to be dealt with. Whether that reality was just temporary or proved to be permanent, only time would tell.

Legolas didn’t like having a discussion being held about him while lying flat on his back. He began struggling to sit up.

Elrond started to protest, but Legolas shook his head rapidly to ward off the elf lord before he could start up with sternly expressed reasons why it was best he stay where he was. Elrond was an excellent strategist and knew that giving in on this one point now may well lead to victory in something more important later, so the dark-haired elf lifted Legolas up while Aragorn fluffed the large pillows and propped them against the carved oak headboard. Elrond eased Legolas back into the plush softness, though it did little to relax the young elf.

It was then that Legolas pulled his arms out from under the bedcovers, intending to rest them on top. He stared at his splinted wrists in complete shock. He turned them over, as if looking at the other side would confirm that what he was seeing wasn’t real. That didn’t happen. He had the expression of one who was staring at two strange things that did not belong to him.

He shifted slightly and felt a twinge of pain in his left foot. Looking down toward his feet, he saw that his left foot was at a slightly higher elevation than the right one. He slid his arms under the covers and lifted them up, revealing the fact that his left foot was also splinted and rested on a small pillow.

Elrond had been right. By the surprised look on Legolas’s face, he did not know what had taken place when Mordraug, using the snake, had tried to kill the Mirkwood prince. Elrond felt for him, but he did not want to overburden the young elf’s mind with the truth until he was stronger and could better handle it.

Legolas pulled his arms back out, letting the covers settle once again. The shock of finding three of his extremities obviously broken and now splinted and bound had momentarily driven the fact he couldn’t speak properly from his mind. In his head, he was asking, *What happened to me?* However, “Shilb orfintal bet cheen?” is what came out. He moaned in frustration and would have slammed his hands down in frustration had he not caught himself in time.

Tears suddenly came to Legolas’s eyes, as he shook his head angrily. He wanted desperately to ask and keep on asking until someone told him what he wanted to know, but he was now well aware that continuing the attempt to speak would result in only babble coming out. That would most definitely lead to an emotional outburst, which was very near the surface, as it was.

Legolas once again looked at Elrond, fear now growing in the blue-gray depths. Had the snake’s venom damaged his ability to speak the words that he formed in his head? Was this a permanent condition? His eyes grew wider, especially at this last thought. The fear came close to turning into panic.

Elrond reached out and put his hand on Legolas’s right shoulder. “You must be patient, Legolas.”

*That is easy for you to say!* Legolas thought sarcastically. He felt that he was being patronized, and his face reflected that emotion perfectly.

Almost immediately, his demeanor softened, as he looked at the elder elf’s face. Elrond was obviously upset, as well. None of this was his fault. *I am sorry,* Legolas silently apologized. *I know you would give me the answers, if you had them.* He shook his head and lowered his eyes, adopting a rueful expression then lightly touching Elrond’s arm. It was the only way he knew to get his feelings across.

Elrond understood the silent message and nodded.

Legolas’s fears were not eased, however, since the most knowledgeable healer in Middle-earth did not know what was truly wrong and that the venom, as the cause, was only a guess, though it seemed a logical one. Legolas tried to keep himself from trembling.

It occurred to the young elf that he had no way of communicating with anyone. As far as he knew, no one was even aware that he could not remember what had happened to him. Speaking was a waste of time and any attempts to continue would result in that emotional outburst he was trying so hard to suppress. With his hands splinted and bound, he could not write. How was he to ask the questions he needed the answers to? He lay his head back farther into the cushioning pillows and closed his eyes. *Ai, Elbereth, what am I to do now?*

In addition to the frustration and fear, his body was really starting to force its presence into his awareness. It had been hurting since he first woke up, but now the pain was pushing itself to the forefront. He still could not remember what had happened to him after Mordraug...what? What had that evil elf done to him after they had fought in the forest clearing? Legolas knew it had to be something terrible to put him in the state he was in. Three broken bones and a body, whose every inch was painful, suggested a long fall. But, there had been no place in that forest to fall from. He immediately dismissed the idea that he had somehow ended up on the face of one of the cliffs surrounding the valley forest and then fallen.

Memory loss, a frustrating speech problem, rising fear and pain were all getting to be too much, overwhelming the elf’s fragile hold on consciousness. The emotional turmoil and the physical pain had drained him of every ounce of his energy. Both mind and body lacked the strength to deal with anything right now. He found himself longing for the peaceful nothingness of oblivion. Not to have to think and not to be able to feel would be a glorious blessing.

Knowing Legolas was probably hurting and thinking the young wood elf wanted to sleep or, at the least, rest, Elrond stood up and motioned for Glorfindel and the twins to leave the room, for the time being anyway. He knew better than to try and get Estel to leave. The human would not budge. There was also no question that Thranduil would leave Legolas, either.

Elrond pulled both Estel and Thranduil over to the balcony doorway with his back to the bed, so he could talk without Legolas overhearing, even with his keen elven ears. Softly, he said, “I will look in on him later. I regret that I cannot give him anything for the pain. He has been drugged enough, and even a simple pain killer right now might cause an adverse reaction. Just let him rest quietly, and hope he can fall asleep before the pain gets to be to much for him.

“I will search my texts and see if there is anything I can find regarding his speech difficulty, Do not try to push him into anything.“ He stopped short of saying “into remembering anything”. Now was not the time to worry Thranduil and Estel, when he was not absolutely sure his idea in that regard was correct. He raised his eyebrows, asking if they understood.

Aragorn nodded.

“Just find something that will help my son,” Thranduil said, though he didn’t sound as stern as the words alone would have indicated.

Without waiting to see if Elrond intended to answer, the king turned and went back to where Legolas still lay propped against the headboard of the large bed. One look at him, and Thranduil knew his son was asleep. His eyes were only about half closed, which made Thranduil’s heart lift a little. He decided to leave Legolas leaning back against the pillows rather than risk waking him by moving him down flat on the bed.

Elrond quietly left the room while Thranduil and Aragorn sat in chairs on opposite sides of the bed and prepared to wait.

TBC