Our Prince Has Awakened

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Legolas jolted, and Eowyn, assuming that it was another one of his spasms, tried to gently push him back onto the mattress. But his eyes snapped open and he swung his head wildly. He locked eyes with her and scrambled away from her. He had the look of a trapped wild animal, head swinging wildly trying to find something that looked familiar. 

"Mi van im? (Where am I?)" He cried out. He glanced at Eowyn once again before glancing once again around the room.

"Please, I am afraid I cannot understand you," Eowyn said gently, she tried to take a step forward but at his frightened look she made herself stop. "I wish to help you. I am Eowyn of Rohan." It was quite clear that he still did not trust her, and he still placed himself as far as possible away from him. He grasped at his side, on to discover that either whatever he had been looking for was no longer there. That was when he noticed the injured hand. He looked at it for a second, before turning back to the woman who was standing before him.

"Where am I?" He repeated, enunciating slowly in the common tongue. This language wasn't coming as easily in his confused state. He had never struggled before with the language of men, but he felt like he was underwater. He felt... fuzzy. Something was very wrong with him, something was affecting him, but he could not place it.

"You are in Edoras, in Rohan," The strange woman told him gently. "You are safe here." But he shook his head. Edoras? How had he gotten there? What had happened to him? Where was Forn? And suddenly he was filled with a sense of panic. Forn. Where was Forn? Where was Aragorn? Gimli? The hobbits? Boromir? What had happened last? He only remembered leaving Lothlórien. What had happened to him? What had caused these gaps? Was he safe? He did not know this woman. She could be lying to him. Where was Forn? Why has she left him? Why had any of them left him? Why was he alone?

"How..." It took him a moment to find the words. "How did... how did I get here?" Oh if only the common tongue was coming easily. He could not find the proper words to describe what he was feeling. He wished he could ask this woman all of his questions. He wished he knew what was going on.

"I believe that your friend brought you, Aragorn. Your dwarven friend, Gimli, was with you as well. I am afraid that I know nothing beyond that." The woman spoke kindly, but Legolas still could not trust her. He was too confused. "You were very sick." Sick? He was sick? What was his illness? Why did she not mention Boromir? Or the hobbits? What was he missing? 

"A van?" He exclaimed suddenly, looking at her worriedly, before realizing that he had not spoke in her tongue. He gave a frustrated sigh and tried to think of the best words. "With what?" He finally repeated. 

"I am afraid that I am not sure. Your friend believed it to be something magical." 

"Magical..." Legolas repeated carefully. Suddenly he glanced back down at his hands.

"Your hand-" Eowyn started, in an attempt to explain what had happened, but she stopped herself when she realized that he was tearing at the glove covering his non injured hand, ignoring the bandages lacing the other. 

"Legolas," She asked gently, causing him to flinch. "Please, let me help you." She came towards him slowly, only to have him turn away from her with a harsh word of denial. She stopped, at his command, but watched with worried eyes as he tried to move his broken fingers to claw off the glove.  When he finally released himself from its confinements, his cry of shock is what drove her to his side. 

"Ego!" He cried, clutching his hand to his chest. "Begone!" He translated, turned away from her and doing his best to slide the glove back over his hand while still keeping it hidden from her. Why were parts of it black? What did this mean for Forn? What had happened? 

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