The Ghost Warrior [Legolas Fan Fic]

Chapter Thirteen

For this, remember that Legolas has a very strong connection to nature, so even when he is partially out of it and floating in a near unconscious state, he can still 'talk' with trees or animals. Also, that he is about that of a six year-old human child in appearance.

The same day, somewhere on the outskirts of the Imladrin border...

It was dark. Very, very dark.

Maybe someone closed the curtains? The sun coming through the windows could be very bright...

No, that didn't seem right. He felt like he was moving.

And going to be very sick.

Slowly, his drugged mind began to become a bit clearer, though there was still a heavy haze that rested upon his mind.

He couldn't figure out why he was moving, or where he even was for that matter. It seemed like an area he had never been before, mainly because he didn't recognize the few trees around him. Or, at least they didn't recognize him.

And the darkness, he couldn't seem to make it go away though he desperately wanted to.

Not to mention the burning pain in his lower chest and upper back. The wounds felt taut and as if they were going to break open. The pain made him want to cry, and a whimper escaped him although he was unaware of it.

Then, the moving stopped and loud voices could be heard above him. It seemed as if the beings were arguing about something, but he didn't care to focus on what. He was just happy the movement was gone because he really did not feel well at all, and the rocking motion was not helping in any way.

A few moments later and he felt himself moving once more, however it lasted for the briefest time as he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

Another whimper escaped him and he was finally able to crack open his eyes. The sight that greeted him, however, sent a shiver down his spine.

Two elves stood before him, one in what appeared to be Imladrin dress while the other was dressed in black from head to toe, including a hood that hid his face from the elfling's view, although it seemed that there was also a mask beneath it, he just couldn't quite tell. The black one seemed to be yelling at the other, and quite loudly.

"Look," the black one said, "I want to be out of this land before this night falls for the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien have entered these lands, and I do not need that witch to ruin everything!"

"Morohtar-" the other tried to start but was just as quickly cut off.

"No, Eruheran. Stay here and watch over the Prince while I go check ahead." With that being said, Morohtar began to walk away, but then stopped in his path. He seemed to be thinking about something before he turned around and looked at Eruheran sternly.

"Do not coddle that brat or help him. Leave him be." And then he turned and continued to walk away.

Eruheran blew out a breath, settling his hands on his hips. Then, aware of eyes staring at him, he turned towards the little Prince and met his gaze full on. The elfling flinched and looked away, but not before he could hide the pain that was glazed over his blue eyes.

Feeling a bit of pity, Eruheran began to make his way over to the other, shrugging his pack off in the process. The Prince started to panic, backing himself into the tree he had been dumped next to by Morohtar, trying to make himself as small as possible. When he finally stood before the elfling, he crouched down before him, watching as tears trailed down the tiny face before him.

Carefully he sat down, undoing the flap on his pack. Eruheran slowly drew out a waterskin, taking a small sip before offering it to the Prince. However, the other just stared at him making no move to even attempt to drink the water. Eruheran couldn't blame him.

Placing the waterskin back into the bag, the bigger elf then took out some bandages and reached for the Prince.

The sobs started in full.

Sighing, Eruheran drew the little elf onto his lap, holding him in place with one arm while he examined his wounds with the other. As expected, they were beginning to seep out blood. When he went to remove the old, soiled bandages, the Prince began to squirm and fight against him, despite the fact that he was only causing himself more pain. The bigger elf let go, watching as the elfling scrambled away from his reach to huddle up against the tree once more.

Shaking his head once more, he put the bandages back into his pack, closing it up. Just in time too, for Morohtar was walking towards them.

Upon reaching the place where Eruheran and the Prince were sitting, he noticed with disgust that tears were making their way down the elfling's cheeks and sobs seemed to wrack his body. Annoyed, Morohtar walked over to the Prince and grabbed his arm, yanking him up forcefully onto his feet.

"Since you are now awake, you will walk on your own. And your tears must cease as well, for I will not deal with a crying brat." Venom seemed to lace his tongue as he spoke for the fear returned by tenfold in the elfling's eyes.

He tried very hard to keep his tears at bay, for now more than ever they seemed to want to break free and cascade down his cheeks.

But the fear had a tight hold on him, so instead the little Prince stumbled along blindly, tripping over fallen twigs and rocks, barely staying on both his feet. He was unaware for how much time had passed, except that with every waking moment his pain seemed to become more and more present. But he dared not stop for Morohtar would kick his legs and yell at him to keep moving, pushing him in the directed he was meant to go. Behind, Eruheran just watched silently, never stepping in to prevent the Prince's mistreatment.

It was after about three hours that the elfling's body could no longer handle the exhausting march that was forced upon the injured body, and finally collapsed. The Prince tripped and fell, passing out as his body landed on the rocky ground.

The other two elves stopped, watching the elfling. After a few moments of no movement, Morohtar growled and bent down, swinging the elf up into his arms. Throwing him over a shoulder, he began to press on once more.

Eruheran however had something to say.

"Morohtar," he began, "We need to change his bandages. Look at how the blood stains his tunic. He will die before we ever reach our destination!"

Never stopping, Morohtar spoke quietly, but the venom in his voice made Eruheran freeze in his tracks and fear for his life for the first time with this elf.

"We will not treat his wounds nor will we take care of him. I do not care what happens to him so long as I bring ruin to those worthless elves. You have two choices: you will either keep quiet, or you can go drown yourself in the nearby stream for your nerve to help the Prince."

As Morohtar walked away, a growing darkness seemed to trail behind him.

And Eruheran, not willing to die quite yet, quickly followed the other along his path of chaos and darkness.