The Antagonist [ A lord of the Rings / Legolas Fan-Fic]

Act 22: Healing wards

Imladris - 13th of October 3018 TA

The journey back to Rivendell was neither easy nor short, however riding on elven ground made the haste somewhat lessened. The peaceful, sheltered town of Elves was eye-catching from afar, as the first day as Awarthrie and her company had arrived. As for Legolas, it was like his second home. Not only because he shared a rare friendship with Lord Elrond and his children, but as well as, a friend of Estel. He closed his eyes he had not felt peace such as this in far too long. Especially, in that short quest, he dealt with more darkness and pain that he thought.

He tried not to dwell on those things now. They were now back on safe ground, and Lord Elrond was one of the best healers. He and the she-dwarf would be fine. The demands of Lord Elrond where delivered and both were alive. Before life in the Mirkwood had left Legolas exhausted, struggling to cope with the demands of being both a prince and a captain. Yet here again, he was risking his life in a new quest, who had weakened him a lot.

The three days in those ruins had a dreadful impact on the ellon. He released himself from the she-dwarf grip and leaped off the stallion, waiting for her to follow. She climbed down, losing her balance and almost fell. She ended up cursing in dwarfish and repositioning herself. Then she stepped next to Legolas offering her arm to him.

"Must you do that?" the elf asked, eyeing her as he decline her help "You've learned from the dwarves, but this particular practice is better to be forgotten."

Awarthrie shrugged at his response "It's our way, Elf!" She skipped next to him.

"It disgusts me," Legolas admitted as his hand rested against his cracked rips "Cursing doesn't sit well with me these days. Furthermore, a Lady with noble background should be aware of what she speaks of. And much trouble would have been saved, if you had not spoken as such."

"I believe you much enjoy the names I called you, Elf," she said, hiding a smile, "Because only once you have advised me to stop." The she-dwarf looked carefully at him "Elf what troubles you?"

"I do not know," Legolas noticed and was quiet, his eyes meeting hers and tapping her shoulders for them to finally step inside. He needed to take care of his wounds and rest.

The she-dwarf recognized the look of concentration on the elf's face. She did not speak, but followed him.

The elf couldn't focus on this, or anything. When he tried, pain lanced between his temples and dark spots danced in his vision. He suddenly took on a pale look, taking one step backwards, he crumpled like a puppet. Before he fell, Awarthrie grabbed his arms as he tumbled. Then he lay there in the rocket ground as still as a corpse, barely breathing at all.

When the dwarf noted the elf lying so still on the ground, she thought that the tree-hugger was dead. She knelt next to him allowing his back resting against her lap "Legolas," her voice queried cautiously "Please, answer me?" Her hands rested against his torso and she found him finally breathing. But he looked so pale. As pale as death.

But Legolas did not answer. He did not fight the darkness he was dwelling in, but greeted it as an old friend. He spaced out, lost now in his own pain. He never managed to react as everything happened so fast. He held for so long, during their journey back. It was a miracle he managed to ride all that distance with such injuries.

"Legolas, don't you dare," the she-dwarf softly tried to shake him, but Legolas wasn't responding at all, her eyes were again filled with tears and she seemed lost. There was nothing that she could do. She was not a healer, and she was not familiar with elves. "Legolas!" she went on calling him.