The History of Legolas - The Last Green Leaf

The History Of Legolas – Part III
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Author’s Note: The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.

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The Last Green Leaf
Chapter Seven – Night


Legolas was awakened that night by a loud scuffle outside his room. At first, he thought that one of the night healers had dropped something and he closed his eyes again, but when his hearing focused in on the noises, he realized that what had awakened him were the moans of an injured or sick elf. Several elves, to be exact.

Slowly, Legolas sat up and went to the door that led into the other healing rooms to see what was going on. His side ached slightly, and he wrapped his arm around his body as if to hold his wound in place. He paced quietly over to the door and opened it a crack.

“Take him to the back, he is in need of critical care,” Legolas heard Nestadriel say. He could see the healer’s back as she instructed one of her underlings to move the injured elf whom was on a stretcher. Legolas could not see much of the elf whom was being moved, but what he could see of him was covered completely in blood. Legolas covered his mouth.

“What happened?!” He thought.

Though, Legolas did not move back, or close the door again. His curiosity ate at him and he stayed. Nestadriel moved out of his line of vision and Legolas could then see the entire room adjacent to his. Three elves lay on healing beds, each with their own severe wound and several healers buzzing about them to stop their bleeding. The injured elves were wearing border patrol tunics, Legolas noticed.

Suddenly, a healer stepped into his line of vision, facing his direction. It was Anariel. Legolas took a quick step back, but in doing so moved his wound uncomfortably and a small, startled cry escaped his mouth. Anariel looked straight at him. Immediately her expression was changed as she recognized Legolas and she opened the door and came inside.

“My Prince, you are to be in bed,” She said, taking his arm and slowly leading him back to where he belonged.

“What happened?” Legolas asked as Anariel helped him down onto his bed.

“Never you mind, my lord. Did you hurt yourself when you moved? Let me check your wound,” she said dismissively.

“Lady Anariel, I am fine. What happened to those elves?” Legolas persisted.

Anariel glared at him with fiery eyes for a moment. Then, looking away she unbuttoned the side of Legolas’ sleepwear and began to inspect his wound as she spoke.

“I know not for certain. They keep on muttering about an ambush and Orcs. Each of them has a poisoned wound, one has an injury from a spear. The other two have several arrow wounds.” She said seriously. “You’re bleeding.” Anariel noticed verbally. She began to unwrap Legolas’ dressing to replace it, but Legolas put his hand around hers to stop her.

“Do not worry about me, go back to those who need your help most.”

“Lady Nestadriel will murder me if I let this go unchecked, my lord. Besides, I am not needed – they have more healers in that room than they have use for.”

“Lady…”

“I will not leave, Lord Legolas.” Anariel said defiantly as she gave him another angry glare. Legolas looked at her with an equally angry stare. A moment of complete silence and static passed between them. Neither moved as they stared at each other, waiting for the other’s will to break. Finally, both gave up simultaneously. Legolas turned his head the other way and Anariel began to unwrap his dressing. The room was silent for a few more moments before Legolas broke the quiet.

“Will they live?

“It is not certain.” Anariel replied, not looking up from her work. She reached into the drawer of the stand next to his bed and pulled out an antiseptic and cloth. She poured the liquid onto the cloth and dabbed it on Legolas’ wound.

“Ah!” Legolas said, exhaling sharply as his wound stung.

“That’s what you get for moving around.” Anariel said, unmoved.

“I appreciate your sympathy.” Legolas replied.

“What sympathy?” Anariel said, smirking at him. Legolas chuckled. What a mystery this elleth was to him.

“Well, then, I at least appreciate your honesty.” He replied. Anariel smiled and said nothing as she continued on with her work. Legolas watched her intently. Her curly dark hair bounced a little as she worked and her bright eyes darted about. Her fingers softly brushed against him as she rebound his wound. Suddenly, Anariel looked at him and Legolas turned away, startled.

“My lord?” Anariel asked, a smile in her voice.

“Apologies. My mind drifted and my gaze did not follow it.” He excused himself, trying not to blush.

“Oh.” Anariel said quietly. Legolas saw a little pink flash across Anariel’s cheek as she finished wrapping his wound. “There. You’re all fixed now.” She said, smiling at the prince.

“Thank you,” Legolas said. Anariel stood up at his bedside and pulled the covers of his bed back over his body.

“Now, this time, please stay in bed.” Anariel said in a mocking tone.

“Yes, my lady.” Legolas said, smirking playfully.

“Good night, my lord.” Anariel replied as she smiled and walked out the door into the chaotic adjacent room. When she had closed the door behind her, Anariel let out a deep breath and tried to clear her head of the buzzing feeling that she was experiencing.

Behind the door, Legolas settled down in bed and tried to sleep, but could not bring himself to slumber for nearly an hour for his mind and his heart would not stop their racing.

~

The next morning, Arthion came to debrief Legolas on the nighttime attack that had been sprung on their comrades in the next room.

“Glandur, Meldiron, and Feredir were ambushed on the south side of the Forest River, just southwest of our halls.” Arthion said. “Feredir said that the Orcs numbered at least fifteen.”

“This does not bode well,” Legolas said.

“Nay, it does not. Especially with the festival so near. I fear elves will venture out despite this catastrophe.” Arthion replied grimly.

“Do we know why the Orcs were so near to the Forest River?”

“Nay, though Glandur said that he heard one of the Orcs shouting orders about finding Dwarves.”

“Dwarves? In Mirkwood?” Legolas asked, puzzled.

“It seems odd, but we have heard reports from scouts out west that there was a party of Dwarves headed in the direction of Mirkwood, though what a Dwarf would ever leave his cave for is beyond my understanding.” Legolas looked frustrated and puzzled, so Arthion pursued another subject.

“Hérion tells me that you have an elleth friend.” He said suggestively. Legolas shot him a disapproving look.

“Hérion talks too much.” Legolas said angrily. “She brought me a scroll from the library.”

“And…?” Arthion teased.

“And what? There is nothing else to tell.”

“Alright.” Arthion chuckled. Legolas glared at his eldest brother, knowing that he was not being believed. Arthion quickly changed the subject again. “Father is meeting with some of his advisors this morning and then he will be by to check up on you. I thought I would warn you so you could prepare yourself.”

“I appreciate that.” Legolas said. Arthion smiled at his youngest brother and got up from his chair.

“We look forward to you coming home, Legolas.”

“So do I!” Legolas replied enthusiastically. Arthion turned to leave.

“Farewell, little brother. Good luck with Father.” He said, walking out of the room.

“Indeed.” Legolas said. The young prince then fetched the scrolls sitting on the stand next to his bed and tried to focus on them, to no avail. His brain was busy processing Orcs, Dwarves, and Anariel.