Hope - A Lord Of The Rings Chronicle

Caras Galadhon

“Raina?!” Aragorn calls, rushing to her with the others. He places an arm on Frodo’s shoulder as Legolas crouches down and lifts the girl’s head off the ground.
“What’s happening?” Pippin asks frantically.
Legolas lifted a hand to her brow, and he wasn’t surprised at what he saw. His skin was glistening with her sweat, and her countenance seemed stormy and troubled. Legolas felt hot just looking at her, but knew she was probably sick beyond measure.
Frodo’s heart thundered in his chest as he watched the elf check over Raina for any wounds, or entryways of poison to the blood. He never meant for any of this to happen, never wanted Raina to get hurt.
“Is she dying?” Merry questioned
“Dying?” Frodo felt sick. He turned to the Ranger “Aragorn, I never meant for any of this to happen, all I wanted do was to scare her into going home. This is all my fault.”
The Ranger couldn’t answer, instead he merely gripped the hobbit’s shoulder comfortingly. It seemed like Raina had been more ill than they had originally anticipated, and what with her probably blaming herself for Gandalf’s death, that had not helped the matter.
Legolas knew he couldn’t let the hobbit take the entire blame. He had been charged with taking care of Raina, and he had failed to notice she was failing. The elf should’ve never let her walk anywhere today.
"No." Legolas shook his head "The fault is mine. She was too weak to do anything. I should've stayed with her in the mines, and let you all go on without us, I should've-
Aragorn knew that they were both wasting time and risking imprisonment. If the orcs returned, they would all be captured and slaughtered before Raina would receive any significant help at all.
"That sort of thinking will not help her now." Aragorn told them "Get her up. Let us take her to Lothlorien."

The elf nodded, resolved to put away his feelings of fright and panic in an attempt to save her life. He deftly lifted the unconscious girl off the ground, and shifted her in his arms, growing more comfortable. It was strange to him. Now that she was once back in his arms, he felt comfortable again, reassured. Maybe it was because he knew that was probably the safest place for her to be.

Or at least he told himself that.

Aragorn passed him, picking up Raina’s sword before sheathing it on her belt. He took her bow, and quiver from Legolas, and then tied the sword around his waist. Although the elf was carefully composed, he could sense the fear radiating from him. The Ranger placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed.

Legolas knew Aragorn was trying to comfort him, but it proved no use. For neither did it settle his nerves or calm his breathing. The elf could feel the beads of sweat trickling down the back of Raina’s next, feel her laboured breathing as she tossed and turned in his arms, and knew that she was getting worse by the second.

He hoped, prayed that they would reach Lothlórien in time.

The company was tired, but they knew they must move on. After all, their lives and Raina’s depended on it. They travelled swiftly throughout the remainder of the day, though Legolas was hardly  leading the pack, not after bearing Raina’s body weight as well as his own. Still, he managed to run faster than the dwarf, which was a testament to both his skill and light-footedness.

The sun had begun to set in the West when they reached the waters of Dimril Dale. The fellowship walked among the icy bank as Aragorn traversed a rock. He stood upon its peak, watching rose gold hues float across the distant sky, and the woods of Lothlórien beyond.

"Come on!" He cried reassuringly to the others behind him "Not far now."

He was right, for it was not long before they reached a field with tall stalks of emerald grass, and the company jogged through it swiftly, before entering a glade of trees. Legolas sighed, his arms beginning to ache. Elves had incredible resistance, but he had carried his friend all day, with little rests and needed nothing more than a warm bath, good food and a nice long sleep.