A Peculiar Fellowship

Part Six

Sentences in Italics are Elvish and bold is Dwarvish!

-

Frodo's cries broke all their hearts, but the sting of arrows in the air forced them to move on. Boromir was carrying the poor Hobbit, Legolas was half carrying Laradel... and Aragorn seemed in a daze.

It felt strange and wrong and impossible. Gandalf was the one who had been there for all of them through everything. He had been at the Lonely Mountain, the Hobbits all loved him dearly, and he had been the steady figurehead of their months-long journey. What could they do now?

Laradel nearly collapsed against a boulder once they had made it outside. She was numb to the physical pain now, as a shadow began to weigh on her soul. Although she had tasted death before, she had somehow assumed she might never witness it again. At least not when it came to those so dear to her heart.

Legolas stood off to her side, looking lost. Had he ever known death before? His mother, yes, he had told her once, but that was long ago, and he barely remembered that. No, Laradel realized. This pain, this... loss was new to him. It was as if he couldn't comprehend it.

"Legolas," Aragorn called, "Get them up."

Numbly, the elf started to do so, going to help each Hobbit to his feet.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir snapped.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" Aragorn reasoned with him.

That seemed to break Legolas from his trance.

"Wait, Aragorn," he said, making his way to kneel at Laradel's side. "We must spare enough time to care for this wound."

"Nonsense, I'm fine," Laradel muttered stubbornly, attempting to limp her way over to Aragorn.

Legolas grabbed her by the arm and sat her down upon the rock once more.

"Quickly then," Aragorn said. "And we shall dress it more properly when we are a safe distance away."

Laradel caught Aragorn's gaze. "Let the Hobbits rest while this is tended to."

His only answer was a nod.

A small tugging at her leg alerted Laradel to Legolas' actions. He had gently pulled the fabric open further and was eying the remaining shaft of the arrow critically.

"I cannot tell if it was barbed or hooked," he said. "I may need to push it through the other side."

Laradel shook her head. "No, I believe it was normal." She flatly joked, "Though I suppose we shall find out when you start pulling."

Legolas gave her a funny look, and at first she thought maybe he didn't understand. But, then he spoke once more.

"This is rather familiar, is it not? You and I, and an arrow wound."

She froze, looking at him in askance, but before she could say a word, he swiftly pulled the arrow from her flesh and she yelped in pain. The distraction had helped, though, she had to admit.

"Yes, well... Last time my wound was a fair bit more fatal than this, wasn't it?" she replied as he tightly wound a strip of fabric around her thigh. "And yet here you are, come to my rescue again."

"You hardly need rescuing, Laradel," he said, his face earnest and his tone soft. "But even lords and ladies need assistance. There are some journeys that none can bear alone."