The Silvan (Lord of the Rings-Legolas)[Wattys2016]

Chapter 46: I Am Silvan

'Ride, Legolas, like the winds of November...'

He could not tell how many hours had passed, but the light had gone and his muscles ached and his shoulder had become numb, a small mercy.

His brother remained completely still, the softest ghost of breath dusting over Legolas' forearm as it held his brother in place. There was poison at work, but he had not dared to remove the arrow, for to do that may mean the prince would bleed to death; yet leaving it lodged in his body meant it would be more difficult, with each passing hour, for him to recover from its toxicity. He could not stop, for to do so would mean certain death.

He tightened his arm around the lax body, securing his brother to himself, as if by doing so he could assure himself that nothing could happen to him, that Legolas' only connection with his real family would not fade away and leave him alone again, thrust him back into that strange void in which he had lived his entire life, and from which only now, was slowly emerging and opening his eyes to a reality that had been hidden from him.

A sudden thought came to him and in his addled state, it took a while for him to realise what it was. He was being followed, the trees told him it was so, but there was no danger. It was one of The Company. Yet Legolas still remembered their treachery in the glade where they had been assailed and wondered if he could trust them.

But the answer was already in his head. Yes, he could trust them, but the question remained, a question Legolas would need to address later - what had happened? Why had he not been told of the danger that lay before them?

It seemed mere minutes had passed before the sun was once again rising and the land regained its colours. The distant gallop of hooves told him the warrior behind him was gaining ground. His body was half numb now, but he would not think of that - could not and he bolstered his concentration, gathered every bit of strength he still had inside him to block the pain, the exhaustion, the image of Dimaethor lying in a pool of blood.

Ride like the wind, Legolas, and do not stop until your brother is delivered...

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Glorfindel strode through the forest with Elladan and Mithrandir at his side. Rhawthir too was there for he was the most veteran of the Silvans and thus, the best elf to guide them home. He walked with one hand tucked inside his belt to take some of the strain off his wound, the rest of The Company following in grim silence.

They had walked on through the night, and if Idhrenohtar had anything to do with it, they would continue on through the day - but Glorfindel had other plans as he turned to stop them.

"We will rest for fifteen minutes. Eat and drink, tend your wounds," he said curtly.

They sat and broke out their meagre supplies, chewing on broken way bread and squashed meat jerky. Elladan chewed on his own food as he moved to Rhrawthir and peeled away the bloodied bandage. Wetting a cloth with an antiseptic solution he carried in a canteen, he pressed it to the wound, eliciting a hiss of pain from the warrior.