To Measure Worth by NaughtyNettie

Regaining Control

Chapter 27 - Regaining Control

Gimli had expressed his most sincere gratitude to Alcandir for bringing Legolas back to them and bid him farewell then returned to his usual place at the elf’s side. He had become extremely accustomed to his position at Legolas’ side and there was no place else in the camp that he felt as comfortable. On the numerous occasions that he actually ventured away from the side of his ailing friend his mind would begin to create horrifying images of Legolas fading and he not being there to comfort and ease his friend’s passing. That image would alternate with the fearful thought of Legolas waking to find himself alone. Neither were acceptable to Gimli and he would do everything in his power to make sure that his fears would not came to pass.

He sat, rinsing a cloth for his friend’s brow, watching the man ride out of site. He would be eternally indebted to the bounty hunter but had no idea of a payment fitting for what the man had gone through and had done for them. The campsite quieted after Alcandir left and although Gimli had only known the man for a short time it felt as though something were missing. Wonderment filled his thoughts at the possibility of seeing Alcandir again, hopefully next time would be under better circumstances.

He placed the cool cloth back on Legolas’ forehead then gently lay his strong, rough hand to the pale face checking for any change in temperature. Legolas still burned with fever and trembled involuntarily from the poison. His eyes were sealed shut and he had the distinct look of pain etched into his face. In short, the elf prince hadn’t improved since arriving at their current campsite.

Gimli wished more than anything Legolas would just wake, even if briefly. He had hoped that he would rouse before Alcandir had left so that he could thank the man who had help to return him home. He knew that the two had communicated, as best they could, out in the desert soon after fleeing Marek, but he knew that Legolas would want to personally thank Alcandir for all that he had done.

There were times, since meeting the elf, that Gimli had become irritated with Legolas. Almost violently at the start of their journey with Frodo and the ring. The annoyance of the elf had slowly declined as they spent more time together and his admiration had grown toward the end of the War. During their trek through Fangorn and the Glittering Caves the pair had developed an incomparable friendship with each other, one that rivaled any other formed in Middle Earth.

When he had first received word of Legolas’ disappearance, panic had surged through him and he could think of nothing else. As he sat within the Citadel of the White City, the dwarf had barely slept, so overcome with worry and anger was he. Now, as he sat, wiping tiny drops of perspiration from Legolas’ face and neck Gimli had realized that he had grown to love the elf. Legolas had become like a brother to Gimli and it was difficult for the dwarf to imagine his life without the annoying elf.

Gimli was roused from his thoughts by the light shuffling of Angrod coming to sit across from him. The two exchanged comforting smiles and the dark elf set about checking over his Prince’s current condition. An unusual friendship had formed between these two as well and Gimli had to keep from smiling as he thought of what his father might think of his befriending not one, but two elves. Gimli and Angrod had formed a quiet respect for each other. They had spent so much time together watching over Legolas that they had almost developed a routine for the way they cared for him. One would begin cleaning a wound and the other would finish, all without exchanging words with each other.

Without a word, Angrod stood, picked up the bowl next to Legolas’ head and left the campsite. Gimli knew he was heading to the stream, several yards from camp, to procure fresh water and perhaps to do some thinking away from the curious eyes of the restless soldiers. He watched him walk away, a slight sag to his shoulders and knew that the dark elf shared his frustration over the elf prince’s prolonged illness.

He had no sooner left the small clearing when Gimli’s attention was jerked back to Legolas. The elf had started coughing again and Gimli took the cloth he had been using to wipe his face and neck and held it next to Legolas’ mouth. Tiny droplets of blood sprayed the cloth crimson, followed by a light trickle which Gimli caught before it could drip down the elf’s cheek. Coughing subsided and once Gimli was assured that Legolas had not stopped breathing again, he turned to exchange cloths for a clean one nearby. They had kept many cloths and clean bandages close at hand and once a day one of the faithful friends would set about cleaning the soiled items so fresh material would be available.

Turning back to his ailing friend, Gimli was met with tired, blue eyes. All motion froze for the dwarf and he stared in silent shock at the long awaited site. "Thank the Valar." He breathed out as he placed his hand on the elf’s warm cheek. Confusion was evident on Legolas’ face and he lifted a trembling hand and placed it over the rough one covering his face. Gimli turned his hand over and grasped the limp cold hand in his own and smiled, a large joyous smile, down at the elf.

"It is good to see you awake my friend." Gimli’s gruff voice quivered with emotion.

"It is good just to see you at all." It took some time for the elf to finish the short sentence, words were strained and the voice a mere whisper, but it was like music to Gimli’s ears.

"Aragorn!" Gimli called over his shoulder then turned back to the elf. "Can you hear me well Legolas?"

Before Legolas could answer, they were joined by two very apprehensive looking Kings. Grins identical to Gimli’s spread over both faces and tears of joy glistened in Aragorn’s eyes. Gimli was already busy wiping loose tears from his cheek with his free hand, his other hand still clinging tightly to Legolas’.

"Welcome back. How do you feel?" Aragorn now knelt over the elf prince staring into his eyes.

Legolas closed his eyes and for a moment Gimli feared that he had lost consciousness again. But then, the blue orbs reappeared and the elf just looked at the three with a somber expression. That was all the answer the three needed to the previously asked question, it would have been a shock had the elf admitted he was in misery.

Angrod must have heard Gimli shout to Aragorn because the dwarf watched as he bolted out of the woods, his leggings wet from the water sloshing over the edges of the bowl he carried with him. Gimli made sure that the dark elf saw the smile on his face in order to ease his panic and moved slightly so that he could join them at Legolas’ side.

"Can you hear me?" Aragorn continued his questioning.

Legolas furrowed his brows in mild confusion. "Aye. Some."

"That you can hear me at all is good news, you are improving." Aragorn rose from the ground. "Let me put some tea on, I think it does you good."

The King left the happy group and Gimli found himself the focus of Legolas’ gaze now. He could see that the elf fought to keep his eyes open and Gimli rubbed his hand furiously between his own. "Stay awake Legolas, you have been away too long and we have missed your company."

Legolas attempted to nod his head but Gimli could see this pained him and hushed the elf. For the moment he was just happy to see his friend awake, conversation could come later. The dwarf removed the warm cloth from Legolas’ head and rinsed it in cool water once again, the smile never leaving his face.

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Opening his eyes and being greeted by the beauty of green leaves dangling overhead, was something that Legolas had dreamed of since waking up inside a tent on his way to Marek. It was also something that Legolas never thought he would see again. The site was indescribable.

Other than his joy at being back beneath the trees, Legolas felt awful. He had never known such pain and discomfort. Judging from the looks on his friends’ faces, his feelings had been well known and worried over. He did have to admit that he felt better since that last time he had woken but that wasn’t saying much considering he felt so horrible now.

Legolas could feel himself falling back to sleep and he wanted to grant his mind and body the solace it sought, but he was also afraid of giving in to those desires. He had slept so long and barely remembered any of his experience, and it frightened him to be so out of control. He needed to regain that sense of being in command of his own life and the only way he was capable of doing that, at the moment, was by willing himself to stay awake.

As well, he could see, in the faces of his friends, that they were not ready for him to sleep again so soon. They had each taken turns just talking to him, they wouldn’t give him an opportunity to respond and he was quickly quieted if he tried. They knew it was a strain for him to speak and Legolas was content, for now, just to listen to them.

He knew that they had many questions with regards to what had transpired over the course of his captivity, but they were patient and content to wait until he was ready. And for this, Legolas was grateful.

He had also been unable to speak with them because they were dripping small amounts of fluid into his mouth. Legolas couldn’t remember when he had last eaten and the tea and berry juice tasted like a festival feast. He was hungry and would do anything for a real meal. Aragorn had told him that food would have to be reintroduced to his system very slowly so as not to overwhelm him and make him even more ill.

The thought of food, or lack thereof, brought a new thought rushing back to Legolas. Where was the man who had tended to him in the desert? Who was the man? Legolas hadn’t been able to talk with the stranger because, at the time, he was unable to hear what was being said and the mock sign language had been hard to follow.

Raising a trembling hand to stop the next swallow of tea, Legolas looked to Aragorn. "Where is the dark stranger who cared for me in the desert? I wish to thank him."

Aragorn dropped his gaze briefly and absently swirled the remaining tea left in the cup he held. "He has left to return to his home."

"Who was he Aragorn?"

"That is a discussion for another time, when it is not so difficult for you to speak." The King smiled kindly to Legolas then motioned for him to open his mouth for another spoonful of tea.

"I do not need to speak, just listen." He paused, measuring Aragorn’s reaction. "Tell me who it was that came for me."

Aragorn set the cup down in the dirt and wiped his hands on a cloth. He then stared past the elf and sighed heavily.

"When we learned of your abduction and destination, we knew that there was no way that we could follow you into Harad. Two Kings, a steward, a dwarf and another elf would be easily spotted amongst the Southrons." Aragorn paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, his gray eyes now focused on Legolas’ blue ones. "The man that I sent to find you and bring you home is named Alcandir, he is a bounty hunter who works out of Gondor and Rohan and is obviously very good at his job."

Legolas thought for a moment on what he had just been told. Aragorn, one of his best friends, had hired a bounty hunter to pursue him into Harad. That over the course of his captivity he had spent time in the possession of slave runners, Haradrim and a bounty hunter was astounding to the elf. He could see that Aragorn was watching him closely as he digested what had just been told him.

It made so much more sense now, the feelings that he had had about Alcandir when first meeting him. That he could sense a darker side to the man and yet knew that he was a good, decent person. Alcandir had seemed so gruff and gentle at the same time. He had been the perfect example of contrast.

Then, Legolas could not control his feelings on the matter any longer. "You hired a bounty hunter to pursue me?" A smirk appeared on the elf’s face. "How much was I worth?"

Aragorn blushed slightly a look of mild confusion causing his brow to crease. "I did not pay him anything." The two sat, for a moment, watching each others expression waiting for the other to crack. Once noticing the small smile on Legolas’ pale face, Aragorn began to let out a light laugh, the tension easing somewhat.

Legolas let out a small laugh as well but before he could retaliate his body was overcome with coughing. Aragorn’s laughter was stopped immediately as he lifted the elf slightly and placed the cloth in his hands gently over Legolas’ mouth. When the coughing ceased, Aragorn pulled the blood tinged cloth away and swiftly tucked it behind him so Legolas could not see it. He lay the elf back on the ground and gave him a small sip of water.

The sound of coughing roused Gimli, Angrod and Eomer from their tasks about the camp and the four were, once again, standing over the prone elf. Legolas didn’t say anything to his friends, he just smiled reassuringly and closed his eyes.

The presence of his friends, their hands pressed into his and gently lying upon his arms and chest in reassurance, was what finally gave Legolas the power to let himself slip into a restful slumber. Sleep would be a welcome thing now, not being forced upon him as it had been previously. He could allow himself to rest comfortably now, safe beneath the trees and amongst his friends.

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