Building Ithilien [Legolas] LOTR

The World is Changing

Despite Miredhel's vehement protests, Legolas insisted on carrying her to a fallen log in the grove of trees.  Her ankle throbbed, and it was just as well that she did not put any weight on it.  He suggested that she clean her wounds and change the cloths which she had hastily pwrapped around her cuts.  So there she sat in the shade while the other two elves had walked the horses to a nearby stream for water.  When they returned, both her brother and the prince insisted on checking her injuries.

Legolas had to admit she continued to impress him.  She had managed to tie neat little bandages for her arms and had tightly bound her twisted ankle in cloth.  "Nicely done, Lady.  I had planned on helping you in these labors, but I see that you have managed on your own."

"She always does," commented Eledhel, rather proudly.  "Miredhel trained as a healer years ago."

"I had not known this," said Legolas.  "She is full of surprises."

"Aye," agreed her brother, "and I helped my sister by providing her with much opportunity for practice."

Miredhel softly laughed at her brother's assertion.  "Without Eledhel and Belegil, I would never have mastered the art of bandages," she agreed, good-naturedly.

Her seemingly improved spirits cheered Legolas who, truth be told, had been angry with himself for his behavior toward her during the ride.  He still felt that he had been right, but the way he had addressed the issue had completely lacked finesse.  Convinced that the Valar had brought them together again for a reason, he promised himself that tonight he would make amends with her and put everything to right.

While Legolas entertained these thoughts, Eledhel took one look at the messy pile of old bandages beside his sister and decided they needed to be burned.  He quickly went to work collecting fallen timber and kindling, leaving Legolas and Miredhel to each other's company.  Legolas knelt beside her and asked for permission to check her ankle.

"I am sure I only twisted it when I fell off Thorontal," she said to her brother, her eyes dimming as she remembered her lost horse.

Legolas slid his hand along her ankle and tendon, carefully rotating her foot in his hand.  "Does this hurt?"

"Do you even know what you are doing?" Miredhel asked.  It was the first time she had spoken directly to Legolas since their argument, and she still avoided his eyes.

"I admit to having a slim knowledge of healing," Legolas said, "but I have seen other much more gifted healers at work.  I know how to check for broken bones."  He gently placed her foot on the ground.  "I have long admired the ability to heal, like my friend Aragorn—he could patch up anything."

Miredhel recognized the name.  "Is this a man you speak of, my lord?"

Legolas nodded.  "I know he spent time in Lorien.  Did you know him?"

"I know of him," she revealed, "he often spent time with the healers when I was there.  Eledhel knew him much better."

"Yes, I know, for it was Aragorn who first introduced me to your brother."

"He is truly gifted, for a mortal," Miredhel said, "much more so than I."

"Your brother thinks very highly of your skills, Lady Miredhel."

"Well, of course he would.  Eledhel persuaded me to study with the healers.  He hoped I would enjoy it."

Legolas nodded and moved to sit next to her on the log.  Inside, he rejoiced that he and the maiden were having such a peaceful conversation.  "Do you enjoy healing?" he asked, hoping to understand her better.