Whispers of the Forest (Legolas x Male OC)

Quiet Conversation

Swimming, floating, drowning in darkness. Moments passed by without any thought. Sometimes for just a second, he could feel. He could see the light seeping in through his eyelids, feel the weight of the blanket carefully draped and tucked over his body. Grimacing from the sharp stinging pain in his side and the hollow pounding ache in his shoulder before he was pulled back into the suffocating darkness. For those few moments, he thought he could hear the wind whisper as if a window was open. He'd strain for it, strain to keep it in focus so he could be rid of swimming inside his mind, but he always fell back into it. He'd heard Aragorn mumbling advice to the unknown voices around him sometimes. He'd heard the comforting sounds of Gandalf reassuring Gimli, but he hadn't heard his Prince. And the moment his mind would grasp that he was immediately pulled back into the clouding sleep.

And then he felt a hand gently grab his, pulling him out of the darkness long enough to feel wisps of his hair being swept out of his face and gently placed behind his ear. He tried to move, tried to open his eyes, but for the love of Valar, nothing happened. Everything was heavy and refused to move. The fog pulled him back but not before he heard the voice he had been wanting. He clung to it for as long as he could, wishing he would just open his eyes, move a finger, anything. Instead, his prince's voice grew muffled and faded into nothing as he succumbed to the growing foggy darkness.

He thought days had gone by, at the very least. Maybe it was actually weeks or months, but it was impossible to tell through the swirling, confusing mess his mind seemed so keen on keeping. Voices passed by him, words rarely clear enough to understand.

The room was so dark he didn't think his eyes were open, but the heaviness of his eyelids told him otherwise. The cloud in his mind hadn't left, and he was terrified this was all a dream, a sick trick of his mind, but he could clearly feel the warmth surrounding his hand, and when he tried to turn his head, he could. He saw Legolas, safe and well, asleep. The Prince was sitting on a wooden chair, with his top half draped on the bed, head resting on crossed arms. It looked rather uncomfortable, and a loving smile etched its way across the listener's face. The hood of the Prince's cloak was up, hiding part of his face. Sîrion, ever so slowly, slipped his hand from Legolas' grasp. He moved the hood up softly, studying the Prince's peaceful face. He furrowed his eyebrows in worry as he saw the tear stains and couldn't help but feel very suddenly confused. Where was he? What was so upsetting to Legolas, and why hadn't he woken him? He shifted, attempting to sit up. His side felt as though it was on fire, and his breath was stolen as he clenched his teeth tight to prevent making any noise. As the pain subsided, he took a deep breath, moving as quickly as he could to a sitting position. Gasps of pain were the only sound that left his lips, and he found himself cradling his arm right arm as the piercing pain faded from his side to a pulsing ache. His shoulder felt off, throbbing from the simple movement. He glanced to his right, surprised to see the discolouration of his shoulder. It had sections of deep purples and blacks, surrounded by more yellow, greenish skin. He attempted to roll it back, stopping immediately when the throbbing increased. He shook his head, trying to clear off some of the fog in his mind. He moved his attention to his side, moving the blanket down further to look at the off-white bandage. He fought the urge to unwrap it and find what was underneath, adding it to the growing list of questions in his mind. He tried to remember, well, anything. The Black Gates flashed in his mind, clashing with the orcs. The tower of Sauron falling. He breathed a sigh of relief, looking back toward Legolas. His heart ached to see the tear stains, but his prince was safe. It was all over. He smiled bitter-sweetly, looking up at the ceiling. His head rested on the wall, and he revelled in the peace of this moment. A small whispering caught his ear, an inkling of sound, but it left as quickly as it came. He looked the best he could, twisting painfully to see if either window on either side of the bed was open. They weren't. He chewed his lip and hoped the defeat of Sauron did bring back the voices of nature. He wouldn't know until a window was open or he found a way to wander outside without collapsing from pain. He would wait for Legolas to wake, he decided. Even if he could stand, he wouldn't want to leave the other alone.