Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Nine: Virulence

The assassin had only just fled from my sight when I pushed past my guard, uncaring of aught but the crumpled shape of my son on the desktops. The side of his face was pressed down upon the wood, hair falling across his face. Ai, Elbereth, I saw blood.

"Legolas?" I said, hoping for an answer but not daring to expect one. I had seen the assassin's hands come up, watched with baited breath as there was nothing I or anyone else could do. We had to create a woven pretense, one that would convince the enemy that we were unable to catch even one of them. If such action came to cost me my son, I would not care if the entire illusion was shattered.

The elves that surrounded my son moved away as I reached for him, gently taking him in my arms and pulling him to the edge of table. "The injury is not serious," one of them--Caneir--said.  "Leastways, the bleeding is not. The skin was only split on impact. The healers have already been summoned."

I nodded my understanding, but continued in my action. "What of those that followed Forven?" Should my son awake to find his lieutenant remaining in any sort of danger, I would find myself dealing with a discontented elfling determined to ignore caution.

"Not returned, but I passed him in the hall. He said he had done his utmost, but his own pursuit had ended in the hall. The other warriors were still in place, however and we may still have a chance of tracking him."

"Good." My answer was absent minded as I attempted to cajole Legolas into waking. My efforts were rewarded as he barely stirred, head turning towards me. His face twisted into a grimace. "Legolas, wake up, ion-nin." Perhaps my words would pierce his consciousness.

I could not decide if time was flashing by, or if the events were occurring so rapidly that they blurred into an instant. Captains took action, as did my guard, while an alert was discreetly sent throughout the stronghold using a series of whistles. Those that were not warriors, would think it to be nothing more than  bird's call, but those that had completed the warrior's trials would know. A danger was nigh at hand--one of the highest puissance.

Legolas's eyes opened, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Immediately, sit up on his own , but only a moment passed before he faltered back against my shoulder. Even then he repeated the action, gaining the same result a second time. "Where's Forven?" he slurred, gaze flashing across the room. Coherency was quickly dawning back upon him.

I was beginning to answer when the warrior in question appeared in the doorway, leaning against the large frame. "Here, you pe-channas elfling." Forven stumbled just slightly  as he walked forward and I blanched, not because of his stumble but for his face. Across his cheek and to his nose, pale skin was marred by a swiftly forming bruise, while blood trickled from his nose. "It will fade," he said, clearly reading the question on my face, and one that was likely mirrored on Legolas'.

"What of the assassin?" Legolas sat straighter, this time unhindered, and swung his legs off the desks'  edge.

"From the whispers that have swept this way, he escaped, but we found his route. He was lost in the courtyard."