Unspoken ( A Legolas Love Story )

28: Fading

For two days and nights, Strider and Nerwen took shifts watching and taking care of Legolas. They changed dressings, reapplied poultices, and tried to administer herbal remedies orally. At some point within that time, the elf's eyes had closed, and they did not open again. They then resorted to regularly checking his faint pulse. Legolas's skin was pale and his body cold. Although a fever raged in his mind and very occasionally he tossed from side to side. It was one of the few signs of life that they saw, and they were glad of it.

Wren waited outside the cabin, beside the door, sometimes she paced, but more often than not, Strider would find her sitting motionless, her arms wrapped around her knees that were tightly drawn up to her chin. Her mother and Strider each urged her eat and rest. But Wren had withdrawn from them both, her skin pale and her eyes grey from lack of sleep.

On the eve of the third night, Strider left his room knowing here was nothing more he could do.

Wren stood up and barred his path in the doorway, he knew that she could see the hopelessness in his eyes.

"I have done all I can Wren; I have nothing else left to try. These wounds should not have been fatal, and yet he continues to slip away from us."

Wren began to object with rising hysteria in her voice. Strider reached for her shoulders to gently calm her.

"I have treated wounds like this before. Orc poison is foul stuff. But if you treat it early, and the patient is of strong body and mind, they usually recover." He paused. 

Wren looked at him wide-eyed.

Something had been gnawing at Strider for some time, and he feared he was too late to voice it.

For months, he had watched a friendship grow and blossom between the elf prince and his little ranger. He reflected, ironically, how instrumental his own role had been in the development of that relationship and the series of events that had followed. It was he, who had suggested the training sessions to Legolas, because he believed that the elf need some purpose and direction. But additionally, he thought it might it would help curb the thinly veiled animosity that seemed to exist initially between Legolas and Wren at the time. However, Strider had not expected the elf's partiality to Wren to develop to the point, that Strider, himself would become concerned regarding Legolas's intentions. Latterly, he had tried to subtly warn Legolas and spare Wren from some potential future heartache. But at the time, Legolas seemed rather unaware of the tragic path he was seemingly travelling on. And Strider more than most, knew exactly the agony that particular course entailed.

In truth, Strider had not been certain what Wren actually felt for the elf. Strider had always shared a unique relationship with her, often protective, much like an older brother. And although he knew her well, he also knew that when it came to matters of the heart, she was very guarded. Her reaction to Legolas's response in the orc incident several weeks ago, had surprised him and he had not known what to make of it. However, Strider's primary concern had been Legolas's apparent decline into despair in the weeks that followed, but he too had shut Strider out. Over the last two days, as Strider had watched Legolas further deteriorate without due cause, and witnessed Wren's response to that deterioration, he had gained distressing clarity over the unfolding tragedy.

Strider looked gently at her. "Wren...Legolas is not fighting. I think he does not have the will to live. I can only assume he is fading from this life..."

Whatever color had remained, drained from her face.

Strider sighed. He was wary of speaking his mind, as he did not want to lay the heavy burden of the elf's life at Wren's feet. He knew that Legolas's fate was all but decided. And yet, in the deepest part of him the smallest glimmer of hope flickered, as he breathed out.

So, he said with great compassion, "I believe Legolas loves you, but he harbors no hope of that love being returned." He cupped Wren's deathly pale face in his hands and said her name. "Aletheîa, if you love him...you should tell him, for I know of no other way to save him now."

He kissed her on the forehead, as she stood frozen before him.

"I must go now and send a raven to KingThranduil...to tell him that his son is dying."    

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The night is long, but the end draws nigh...

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