AUTHOR: Conlai
E-MAIL: [email protected]
RATING: R
PAIRING: Aragorn/Arwen, Legolas/�omer
SUMMARY: Aragorn and �omer return from war in Harad, but Aragorn's injuries are severe. Legolas and Arwen worry over him, but Legolas may find more support than he'd expected.
WARNING: Maybe a little blood, some torture and rape implied, but not graphically described.
DISCLAIMER: In the land of Middle-earth, Tolkien is God. I am an annoyance.
***
Legolas let a sigh of relief escape his lips as he heard the quick steps of the surgeon pattering towards the door. He stepped aside as it swung outward, allowing the man to exit while he himself went unnoticed. He caught the door's edge before it had closed again, and quietly slipped into Aragorn's cold chambers. He was half delighted to see the man out of bed and attempting to redress, relieved to see he was able to stand, but noticing with trepidation how heavily the ranger leaned against the edge of the bed. However, it was the more protective, motherly part of him that spoke.
"You should not be out of bed, by any means," he reprimanded, gripping the man's shoulders firmly and pushing him back down onto the bed, removing the breeches his friend had been struggling to pull over his various wounds from around his ankles. Finding himself to weak to resist, Aragorn simply yielded to the elf and let Legolas tuck the covers about his bare shoulders. "There is no impending battle, friend. We are all quite safe, now."
"I should send word to Arwen," Aragorn thought aloud.
"Word has been sent to Gondor. She shall know that you have returned and are being kept in Edoras," Legolas pointed out thoughtfully.
"Aye, but we both know that she will worry nonetheless." he paused, his breathing suddenly laboured with pain.
Legolas watched him closely, and laid a hand on Aragorn's damp brow, waiting for the spasm to pass. "You are fevered,' he said worriedly, "and it is chilled in here."
Aragorn managed to shake his head as the incessant throb of his wounds subsided. "No wood can be found, and what wood there is has been taken to the rooms of those more grievously injured. It feel much more contented with its use now than if it were warming me."
Legolas could not suppress a smile at Aragorn's ever-noble nature, half borne of amusement and half of admiration. "How badly were you hurt? I had not the time to look at you."
Aragorn allowed Legolas to push the covers off of him and have a look at his various injuries, inspecting the surgeon's needlework with a critical eye. Remembering that his friend's breechclout had been removed, he covered Aragorn's more intimate area's before continuing. The gashes were severe, and though he knew that Aragorn had sustained worse many times, he could see that the strange poisons made in Harad were beginning to do there work. Aragorn's skin was damp with sweat from his fever, and Legolas could easily see by the unsteady look in the man's clouded eyes that he was very dizzy. He carefully brushed a few limp strands of black hair away from Aragorn's face, and found that the man leaned into his touch. His condition seemed to have worsened in only the few moments Legolas had been examining him. His brow was drenched in sweat, and he was becoming more delirious.
A soft knock at the door pulled the Elf's attention away from his friend's face, and he covered Aragorn's naked form again before granting entrance.
TBC...