Beastly || Legolas

thirteen

Namir dragged himself up the rocky shore. The orcs were lost behind them but the current had also lessened. Around him the dwarves were pulling each other from the barrels and rolling their makeshift boats up onto the stone. They were all sodden and exhausted. The cold seeping into their skin from the water and the chill of autumn. Namir shook his fur out and changed. His bones shifting as he fell forward, human hands catching himself before he could hit the rocks. He gasped as the movement tugged on the arrow wound in his side. It was just under his ribs towards the right of his abdomen. He scowled at it, watching the red blood drip down his skin. "Fucking elves". 

"Namir!" Kili's voice called. Him and Fili climbed over the rocks towards him. The blonde brother holding a set of very wet clothing. Namir took it from him and began squeezing the excess water from the trousers. He didn't care much for modesty but the dwarves would probably prefer him to be clothed. "Thank you for getting the gate", Kili said as Namir pulled the trousers on. "I was going to jump for it if you hadn't gotten their first. Probably for the best since those orcs then surprised us. I would have been a sitting duck there. Thank you". 

"Don't mention it", Namir muttered as he began ripping his waistcoat into strips. He dabbed one on his wound and hissed in pain, an animalistic whimper catching in his throat. 

"Are you okay?" Fili asked, then he caught sight of the wound dripping from Namir's side. "You're wounded!" 

"Stray elf arrow", Namir forced a smile. "The elf soldiers had never seen a giant black beast before. Wouldn't be the first time someone has shot at me". For some reason this reassurance did not change the furrow on both dwarves' faces. Fili and Kili did not seem very happy. 

"On your feet!" Thorin called. The dark haired dwarf was up and moving round the group, counting heads.

"Namir has been wounded", Fili exclaimed. "We need to bind it". At the words, Bofur and Ori hurried over to see. Somehow Bofur managed to bat Namir's hands away and take ahold of the rags. 

"Give that here. Let me bind that properly. Sit down". 

"There's a orc pack on our tail", Thorin snapped. "We have to keep moving".

Namir sighed at the dwarf leader, ignoring him as he placed a hand on Fili's shoulder and lowered himself down onto the rocks. Bofur kneeling to wrap the strips of cloth round his abdomen. It tightened and a reflexive growl of pain left his throat as the dwarf tied the bandages tightly. "That will have to do", Bofur sighed. "There's risk of infection but we have nothing else". Namir made a grumpy noise. He was wet, the water chilly even with his increased body temperature, his sword was lost back in Mirkwood, and he was in pain. This was not very fun. 

"To where?" Balin asked Thorin, the old dwarf seeming just as fed up as Namir felt. 

"To the mountain. We're so close", Bilbo answered with a hopeful tone. Somehow the hobbit seemed to still have some cheer despite their dismal circumstances. No food, left in their under shirts, no medical supplies and no weapons. Exhausted, hungry and aching from their bumpy ride; they were in a sorry state and in no way ready to climb the mountain and face the dragon within. 

"A lake lies between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it". 

"So then we go round". 

"The orcs will run us down as sure as daylight", Dwalin huffed. "With no weapons to defend ourselves". 

Thorin stood through the group. He spared a glance for Namir and the small group around him. Namir stared up and met his eyes with his usual unblinking stare, one hand cupping the bandages over his wound. There were bruises colouring on his tanned skin, patches of red rapidly turning into blues and purples. Bruises that weren't noticed underneath fur. "Make sure he doesn't bleed out", Thorin instructed. "You have two minutes". Namir scowled and gave him a low snarl as the dwarf turned away, not in the mood for Thorin's bullshit.