A Forgotten Friendship: A Middle Earth Fan Fiction

Wounded

Legolas looked over Tauriel quickly, his eyes easily finding the crimson stain that was beginning to spread over her right shoulder as she lay sideways on the ground.

His face was serious, his features hard as chiseled stone.

Quickly her ripped the bottom of his shirt, producing a strip of tough material. She had time, time to get to Rivendell he hoped, but there wouldn't be a moment to spare. He rolled her unconscious form over onto his lap and tightly wound the fabric under her arm and over her opposite shoulder to keep pressure on the wound and hopefully keep her from bleeding to death.

With gentle strength Legolas picked the injured guard up and stepped warily over the corpse of an Orc as he walked hastily to the opposite end of the fateful clearing. The tight path continued on this side and, with a quick glance over his shoulder, Legolas took off at a run, traveling as fast as he dared without injuring her further. Tauriel's breathing was ragged and her face was beginning to pale. Legolas looked ahead, a grim expression invading his face. The trees finally broke their border of the path, giving way to a line of mountains, ominously standing between the pair and Tauriel's best means of survival.

The path began to curve upward, crisscrossing over the rocky terrain. Legolas's breaths escaped his dry cracked lips in gasps and short spurts. His brow gleamed with perspiration as the sun began to set with dark colors that matched the mood of the quiet Elf.

The pass was not long in length, but the incline and extra weight was making the trip tedious and exhausting. Legolas fought for each step, pulling his strength from the joy and hope that had washed over him earlier.

What wouldn't he do to experience that feeling just once more?

•••••••^^^•••••••

A fire crackled as the wind moaned and whistled against the mountaintop. Legolas had reached the portion of the pass that flattened out at around midnight and had collapsed in fatigue under a rocky ledge.

After collecting himself and pulling together a few shards of scattered energy, he had set to work making a fire and to taking a closer look at Tauriel's wound.

He pulled her closer and brought her head to rest on his legs. Her whole body was wracked with chills and her face was deathly pale. Legolas moved closer to the fire, attempting to warm her as he tended to her poorly bandaged gash. Carefully he unwound the cloth and ripped open the fabric, that was stiff with blood, surrounding the puncture.

Upon examination Legolas found that the gash was larger than he originally thought. A thin line of red ran down the edge of her pale neck and deepened, evidence of the knives path as it spun, as it traveled down. It ended in a deep puncture below her prominent collar bone. The skin encircling it was encrusted with dried blood and stained with the red of fresh.

Legolas strained to reach his pack without moving Tauriel. He grasped it with a grunt of weary effort and groped around in the leather bag before pulling out his canteen and a small cloth.

Slowly, with precision and delicacy, he began to clean the wound. She unconsciously recoiled at the cool sensation, her skin crawling with shivers. Legolas sped up.

As the blood vanished the true severity of the situation unveiled itself. The puncture was deep, very deep. It had missed her heart by several inches, but what of her lung? Several bones had been shattered, her higher ribs cracked in the feeble attempt to protect her organs.

Legolas sighed as he looked down at the wound. High above Middle Earth, far from home and help so teasingly close, he had no herbs, no bandages, no medicine to speak of. He had only himself and his love. The love that had mocked him silently for so long as it burned a hole in his heart slowly.

Tearing another piece off of his clothing, Legolas rewrapped the wound with silent fingers. He knew that he had to get to Rivendell within the next two days. Mentally he calculated the distance and sighed again in exasperation. It would be difficult, but he would not allow her to fall through his fingers after so much waiting.

He shivered slightly in the cool mountain air and looked down in tired sorrow at Tauriel's silvery face. He pulled off his cloak and put it over her, pulling her into his chest to warm her freezing skin. He turned her towards the fire and closed his eyes, he had to get rest if he were to make the journey for the both of them. He reached over and grasped Tauriel's hand. It felt frail and small in his, and Legolas grasped it gently, willing his warmth to overtake her freezing body.

Just as Legolas began to fall into sleep's sweet arms, he was surprised to feel a cold squeeze of Tauriel's hand, accepting his own.