If I Had You

Chapter IX

Tauriel POV

Please don't die.

    Please don't die.

    The thought mindlessly repeats itself as I examine Aragorn's wound. The blade had struck the middle of his chest. I bend down, my ear an inch away from his mouth, and check for breathing. While there, his breaths are shallow and shaky. I breath a sigh of relief. At least, the blade hadn't struck his heart.

    It was still possible to save him.

    "C-can you, help him?" Says Arwen through her tears. I hook one hand around the back of his neck and tilt his head up. He's pale. Too much blood lost.

    "Yes," I say. "Nothing's set in stone, but hypothetically I should be able to save him."

    Arwen nods, unsure, Legolas at her side trying to comfort her. I take my mind and eyes off them and back towards the dying king. It would take much, but he could be saved. I empty out a bag full of supplies I had been carrying, crumple it up and tuck it neatly under his head. Hopefully that would keep both his head propped up and him comfortable. Then, I get to work.

    I feel the others eyes studying both Aragorn and me as I work. The intensity in their gaze puts its full force and pressure into my procedure. I sweat nervously, and I can't help but think what would happen if I couldn't save him. Arwen would be alone, Legolas and the others left without their friend. I hadn't had much time to get to know him. but I knew that if he died, it wouldn't be good for me.

    But enough about myself; A life was in need of saving.

    I take 15 minutes to work. Color appears back in his cheeks, and while he doesn't open his eyes his breathing becomes more and more normal. I breath a sigh of relief, and the worry lines and furrowed brow I know I have loosen. Maybe he would make it.

    "Legolas, can you carry him?" I say, looking back. "We need to get out of here."

    Legolas nods and I step back. The rest of our company stands back, shock still embedded in their expressions. Arwen is completely silent, her face still red but expressionless. I look away, trying to get my mind off Aragorn's recent wounds. Thranduil and the hooded people were still out there. And I couldn't allow myself to get off task, especially since the only other and superior archer was busy carrying another man. Getting us out of here was what I needed to do.

    "Let's go." Says Legolas. I nod, taking the lead, weapon in hand. I open the doors, my eyes scanning the area for movement. Nothing. Not even guards.

    After waiting a few moments to make sure, I start down the stairs, not caring how loud and obvious we were being. I hear the others run behind me. We continue to rush down the stairs, and an ugly feeling in my stomach appears. Nobody was in the halls, and the echos of our footsteps are the only sound I can hear. There was no way in hell that those monsters who'd attempted to kill Aragorn and launch that attack on Helm's Deep wouldn't attack again. My eyes keep searching the room and stairwell again and again, waiting for them to strike, as I knew they would.

    "Tauriel, stop!" Shouts Legolas from behind. What did he need?

    Angrily, I stop, a scowl on my face. I turn and see Aragorn. He's coughing violently, and the pale color had returned. Arwen had starting crying again, only this time instead of turning into a royal red mess, a few lone tears stream down her cheek. My scowl disappears as empathy replaces it.

    "I know Aragorn isn't doing well, but we need to keep moving." I say, approaching him. "Or at least find a room where we can hide out for a while. Thranduil and those hooded monsters are still here." I take Aragorn as I speak, my mind running through places of where to hide him.