Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Eleven: Agowilt

Cognizance was slow in coming.

My eyes snapped open, and lights danced across my vison. I shifted, eyes closing as I brought one arm to cover my face. An indeterminable amount of time passed before I willed myself to try again, and this attempt proved more successful. The room was not nearly so bright as I had originally percieved, and I gradually became aware of muffled voices.

A series of instances flashed through my mind. Council, battling, failing, my adar, assassin--I flinched, shooting upward. With movement far too uncoordinated to be of drowsiness, I worked to stand. Instantly, the world blurred, spinning around me. Stumbling forward, I gasped softly. My legs would undoubtedly have left me as a crumpled heap on the floor, if not for the wall that my shoulder came into contact with. The jarring impact elicited a grunt from my throat, but I used the structure as support.

AsI struggled to regain a sure stance, a hand brushed my arm before gripping it with gentle force. "Sîdh, Legolas. Not so quickly. You are in the healing ward. Everyone is safe. You hit your head and have a small cut." The speaker paused, pressing a hand to my chest. "Valar, why must you choose the moment I turn my back to awaken?"

A peace flooded me at the words. In the healing ward? Strange but not entirely unexpected. That voice--I knew it. "Forven?" I turned my head but could only catch sight of an arm. What was on the arm, however, stirred an ember of remembrance inside me. A vambrace, marked with the pattern of a warrior of my patrol, bore severl scuffs over its fading leather.

"Aye," he answered. "Can you stand on your own?"

Slowly, I nodded, feeling balance return. I shrugged off his hold, but he kept a hand outstretched--precaution he would call it, while I saw it as paranoia.

I might have apologized for my confusion if not for the countless times he and I had been in this situation. A careless mistake with indeterminable consequences--a time in the healing ward--worry for one--temporary oblivion for the other. "What's happened?" I said. While the events of the last days were slowly returning to remembrance, how one instant flowed to the next was lost to the distant depths of memory, blurred and faded.

"We were in council, baiting the assassin. He came and you were hurt in his escape." Bitter guilt tainted his words and I sighed. Even should he swear he did not harbor a feeling of blame, I knew he nevertheless would. I could not argue with him. His heart had determined his mind.

"A bump to the head can hardly be considered a hurt, Forven. It was a mistake on my part, and one I will not repeat. How far did you track the assassin?"

Over the next moments, all the events that had taken place in the last hours were repeated. As Forven spoke, I took the warrior tunic he offered and accepted his help with strapping my quiver on my back. Soon after, we left the healing ward--not without some arguement with the healers. There were times I wondered if we were more their captives than anything else, but the thought was quickly displaced by the many times their care had proved invaluable.