Battle for Life

Summary: During the battle of Pelannor fields, Legolas receives a serious wound and is thrown into the Anduin River. Will Aragorn find him, and will he survive? Non-slash.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: A bit of blood I suppose.

Ah, and the fact I don't know much about Legolas I will make up some of his history. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Disclaimers: I don't own LotR.


Chapter Three

Gandalf was sitting with Eowyn, the woman unconscious and looked over the beds with the various injured people. He would have searched himself for survivors had it not been for Eomer's request at having someone stay with his sister while he searched for any of his people that was still alive, waiting for help. Gandalf had agreed to watch over her, easing the man's worries.

Suddenly Eomer appeared, out of breath. He looked like he had run up here. How he had managed to run from Pelannor's field to the Houses of Healing with that armour on him was remarkable.

"My lord, if you are wondering about your sister," one of the healers began.

"No! Please, we need a bed! Also the needs to treat a severe wound made by an Orc-blade!"

"We who?" Gandalf asked as he got up from his chair.

Eomer looked at the wizard and swallowed thickly.

"Lord Aragorn," he said. "He requires it."

"Why for?"

"For the elf," Eomer said. "For Legolas. I sent them my horse as fast as I could, they should arrive any moment."

"Is Legolas well?" the wizard asked worriedly.

Eomer looked away.

"He is not," the man finally answered.

"We have a bed free in one of the private rooms, just down the corridor, last door to the left," a healer said to Eomer. "We have brought fresh bandages and both warm and cold water to the room. What herbs, if any, lord Aragorn might need he just needs to ask us."

In that very moment Aragorn arrived and Gandalf's eyes widened.

Legolas looked very little like the proud elven prince he was. Lifeless in his friend's arms, looking very much drenched in both water and blood, Legolas reminded Gandalf of the gruesome sight when an Orc carried Legolas' unconscious, or perhaps blissfully dead, mother away. They never found her body. To have Thranduil see this sight… it would kill the elven lord.

Eomer directed the Ranger to the room, and Aragorn allowed just enough time to have Gandalf rush inside before he shut the door.

"What can I do?" Gandalf asked. Aragorn looked up at him in surprise. "I am a wizard, yes, but I do know when some things need to be done. For an example, get him warmer while you clean that wound of his."

"Yes," Aragorn said. "We need clean clothes, and I need…"

"Whatever herbs you seek, ask the healers. I shall have fresh clothes for our friend, and some cloths to clean the worst off."

The wizard left the room to get a change of clothes and cloths while Aragorn began to peel the elf's upper garments off. He was careful even though he knew Legolas was too far away to feel the pain.

When the wound was exposed the Ranger swallowed thickly. It had begun to get infected and he mentally counted up what he needed before he got of the room. He caught a healer and said:

"I need your help."

After repeating the herbs for the woman, he sent her on the way to retrieve them and returned to his friend. The elf breathed shallow, his chest barely moved.

"Hold out," Aragorn murmured to the elf. He turned away and realized while he had water there was no cloths. He could not use the bandages.

Gandalf came in carrying the cloths he desired and the Ranger took one without saying anything and wetted it in the cold water.

"I will clean the wound," Aragorn said. "Can you take away the blood from his face?" He knew he would not be able to stand it for much longer.

They both worked in silence, both of them freezing when Legolas' breath faltered for a moment. He convulsed once, spraying his lips faintly with blood. Gandalf spoke to the unconscious elf in Elvish, hoping it would comfort him a bit at least.

The door opened and Eomer came in with a basket of herbs.

"They have much to do out there, so I brought the herbs you wanted," he said to Aragorn.

"What of your sister?" Aragorn asked as he took the herbs.

"Gamling is with her," Eomer said. "They say… she will not wake up."

Aragorn looked at the man and determination settled in.

"After I'm done here, I will help your sister," he said. "Be patient; this may take a little while."

"… Thank you."

"Go," Aragorn said. "Be with her. Your presence will be noticed by her, and she will take comfort in knowing you are near."

Eomer nodded and closed the door behind him. Aragorn turned back to the basins of waters and settled down for work.


Aragorn collapsed into the chair a while later, and looked at Legolas. The elf was still too pale, his eyes closed in exhausted sleep and dark rings underneath his eyes. His wound cleaned, tightly wrapped and the bandages hidden underneath the white robes. Normally Aragorn would have just dressed his friend in a shirt but his body had been so cold he was dressed in warm leggings, a shirt and a comfortable robe with two blankets tucked around him.

The elf was lying on his side, one hand tucked underneath the pillow, a position Aragorn had seen often with Legolas and knew the elf liked. He reached out and stroke away a few strands of blonde hair. He and Gandalf had cleaned it and now it was almost dry.

He stood up with a groan. He may be tired, but he was going to help Eowyn and then as many as he could. The Ranger made sure the blankets and the robe was warming Legolas up and said:

"I'll be back, 'Las. You just rest."


The man had just sat down to catch a bit of rest when he heard a healer:

"Lord Aragorn!"

He got up and saw she had called from Legolas' room. His eyes widened.

"He has a very high fever," the healer said as he approached. "I'm trying to bring it down but…"

Aragorn stepped inside and saw Legolas' chest heaving, his skin glistened with sweat. He rushed forward and felt the elf's forehead. It was hot to the touch. His body was warmer now, and Aragorn knew he had to make it colder.

"Bring me chilled water," the man ordered, "and cloths. We have to cool his body down."

The healer nodded and ran out.

"Don't do this to me, mellon-nin," the Ranger said. "Don't you dare die on me."

"Ada." Legolas' cracked lips moved, repeating the word, fruitlessly calling out for his father though not awakening.

All Aragorn could do was holding Legolas' hand and waiting for the healer to return.

Once she did, she had Eomer with her. The man was now out from his armour and held the basin with water.

"I must go," she said, giving the Ranger the cloths she had been carrying. "Will you two be enough or should I send for someone more?"

"No, thank you," Aragorn said. The horse-master put down the basin and Aragorn put all the cloths into the cold water. He then removed the blankets and slid out Legolas from the robe.

The two spent nearly an hour holding Legolas still and constantly changing the cloths. Finally the elf was lying calmly on the bed, his fever still there but not as dangerous as it had been and it gave Aragorn a chance to look at the wound. It had not reopened but the red edges made him cringe. For safety he put some salve on it before rewrapping the bandages. There were two beds in the rooms so he could move the elf from the wet one to the other one. Carefully he lifted his friend and Eomer had already cleared the other bed so the elf could just be laid down. Aragorn dressed him in the robe again and tucked him in.

"Thank you," he told Eomer.

"Friends help each other," the horse-master said.

Aragorn looked at him. Then he said with a smile:

"Aye… they do."


"Aragorn… have you rested at all?"

The man turned when hearing Gandalf's voice and smiled weakly.

"It feels like… he's never going to wake up," the man said as he gazed down at Legolas. The colour had returned slightly to the elf's skin, his breaths easier and in deep sleep, his eyes half-open. He had not woken once in the five days he had been unconscious, not even when he battled against the high fever four days ago. "We are to ride out to the final battle in the morning, and I fear more for him than for myself or anyone else. I fear… when I come back here he will be gone."

"You have two reliable people who will do anything in their power to keep him here, both in spirit and body," Gandalf said and clasped the man's shoulder. "Faramir may never have met Legolas, but he is very interested in our friend, and looks forward to speak to him. And Eowyn will not let him pass on. She greatly enjoys his calming presence and do not wish him any more pain, only joy and freedom. They shall look after him. The worst thing that could happen is that he wakes up, finds out we left without him and comes running anyway."

"That would not… really surprise me," Aragorn said. "Maybe we should strap him to the bed…?"

"Since when has that ever stopped him?" Gandalf asked in disbelief. "I seem to recall some of Elrond's horror stories including a witty elf and one stubborn boy."

"I was not stubborn!"

"What do you call it then? Obstinate? Pigheaded? Persistent? Hard-headed? Perhaps unreasonable?"

"Enough," Aragorn groaned as Gandalf smiled. "I do hope he will sleep until we get back. Who knows what ideas might run into his head shall he awake while we battle."

"Well, what do you know… he might think like you and do something foolish."

"Me? Have I ever done anything foolish?" Aragorn asked.

Gandalf looked at him.

"Well…" the man said after a while. "Maybe I have done it once or twice."

The wizard snorted at that.


Faramir lowered the book once he heard a slight rustle, and Eowyn tore herself from the window to come over.

Legolas' eyes slowly cleared and he blinked. He still looked sleepy and slowly moved his eyes onto both of them. Mouth dry, Faramir had no idea what to say. Eowyn however, found her voice easily:

"Good morning, my lord. It eases my heart greatly to see you awake. No, do not get up." At this she put a hand on his shoulder as Legolas had begun to rise on his elbow. "Stay and rest."

"Aragorn… where is he?" the elf managed to ask. Well, his lungs were no longer burning. All of his aches were gone, and he was warm. And hungry. And where was that bloody human when Legolas wanted to see him?

Feeling uneasy to lie but needing to keep Legolas calm Eowyn said:

"He has left the city momentarily but should arrive not long after now. Please, have a little to eat and then maybe you should rest some more."

Legolas knew she was lying; he could see it in her eyes. But however much he wanted to rise and demand her to tell him where that stupid human had gone, surely Aragorn the fool was fighting Sauron's army as they spoke, he could not move from the warmth. His skin still felt cold. He could barely move, and his wound pulled if he moved too much. No matter how much he wanted to fight alongside his friend, he would only be a burden at this stage.

He accepted the woman's help as he sipped the broth, the warmness soothing and comfortable. He was well aware of the man watching him but not staring. Just watching. That was fine. Aragorn trusted him if he was allowed to watch over Legolas while the elf slept.

After finishing the food he felt the sleep call for him again. He laid his head back on the pillow and mumbled out:

"Hannon le."

Faramir's eyes widened slightly and turned to Eowyn, but she had heard the phrase enough times to just reply:

"You're most welcome my lord. Now, rest."


Aragorn returned to the city, weary but victorious. Gandalf had probably had healers to start attending to Frodo and Sam, and to be honest the Ranger had not energy enough to tend too many injured even if he wanted to.

However, he watched over the transport of all wounded, and helped as many of them as possible to be comfortable. He quickly shed his armour for a light robe that was much easier to move in and simply put up his hair with a leather tie. He had not time to shower; he had to help at least a few. Then he would quickly get the worst off before checking in on Legolas.

It was after dark he finally got time to wash his face and the worst of his hair before drying himself off roughly. He set his wet hair up and walked to the elf's room.

Faramir woke up once Aragorn entered and looked sleepily up at the man. The new Steward had not even recovered fully yet he was exhausting himself for Aragorn's sake.

"My lord," Faramir said and rose up slowly.

"Go, get some rest," Aragorn said. "I have slept in a chair myself, more than once because of that stubborn elf, and I can agree with that they are not very comfortable."

Faramir nodded thankfully and slipped out, allowing Aragorn to be alone with his friend. The man soon-to-be-king had met Eowyn briefly and she told him as much as she could about Legolas.

The elf had woken up twice, both times he had eaten but fallen asleep as quickly. No trying to rise from bed, as even he seemed to have realized it would do no one any good. Aragorn sat down on the edge of the bed and gently laid a hand on his friend's cheek. Legolas stirred, his eyes clearing. Aragorn felt his heart slow down; despite reassurances, he would not be able to rest easily until he saw Legolas, awake and well.


The man looked into Legolas' deep eyes and released a sigh of relief. He leaned down so he could rest his head on the elf's shoulder, breathing his friend in. Tired now, he moved so he could slide down behind Legolas. The elf sleepily turned his head and looked questioningly at him. Aragorn simply laid a hand where he knew the wound was, careful and felt the bandages underneath the clothing.

"You scared me, 'Las. I forbid you to ever do that again, you foolish princeling!"

"'Tis not my fault an Orc is skilled enough to injure me," Legolas huffed.

"You were exhausted, were you not? Not resting, always taking the watch, never sleeping… you barely had energy for this battle."

The elf said nothing. Aragorn moved his hand so he gently could wound the arm around his friend's middle.

"Never do that again," he said, this time quiet yet serious. "Never do that, even if it gives me and Gimli more rest, you hear me?"

"… Yes. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive, my foolish friend. Just focus on regaining your strength."

"My father…"

"I sent a letter to him… three days ago, when I had time. He may come."

"He will."

"Aye… you're probably right."

Legolas blinked a few times to keep himself awake and said:

"What of the others? Are they all well?"

"Aye," Aragorn said. "Gimli was kind enough to take care of your weapons. They lie on the other bed right now. Merry and Pippin are both fine, so is Gandalf… and I have checked up on Frodo and Sam, both is resting."

"So you went to war with Sauron?"

"I would have let you come had you been healthy," Aragorn said. "But you were not. I would have sent you to death had I let you join us."

"I know."

"Are you angry with me?"

Legolas grew confused and looked over his shoulder.

"Why should I be angry?" he asked softly. "Stop be foolish and rest some, Estel."

"Hn. Take your own advice, elf."

"I am doing that, human."

"Prissy Prince."


"Pointy ears."

"Snotty brat."

"You two act like children as usual."

The voice, deep yet smooth, made Legolas' eyes widen. He looked to the door and exclaimed:


Thranduil was still dressed in his travelling clothes, dust and mud clinging to him and his hair a bit ruffled. Something told them from the moment he had gotten down from his horse he had run.

"You look like you came in a hurry, my lord," Aragorn said carefully.

"I might have been a bit unclear in my… description of where I was going in the middle of the night, but I do believe they will find out," Thranduil said and sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and managed to look like the king he was despite his condition.

"You did not tell them?!" Legolas shrieked.

"I am the king, I do what I want! Besides, I wrote a letter that was on my desk!"

"You cannot find a simple letter on your desk, there are so many letters and papers there already!" Legolas replied. "Ada, tell me the truth or I am rising from this bed."

"Fine, be boring," Thranduil said but both his and Aragorn's hand descended on the Elven prince's shoulder to keep him down. "I gave a letter to my head advisor, and told him I was going here before the others will move out. I had not the patience to wait."

He stroke Legolas' cheek and the younger elf yielded, closed his eyes and grabbed both of their hands.

"Now I can rest in peace," he murmured. "Now when I know all is safe."

"Aye, that would be best," Aragorn soothed. "Rest away all aches and pains. We will all be here when you wake in the morning."

Legolas smiled and let the man climb out albeit a bit reluctant to do so. Thranduil removed his cloak and his outer robe, spreading the robe over Legolas so the elf could feel his father's scent. The richness reached Legolas' nose and he inhaled Mirkwood.

"Estel, where are you going?" he asked.

"I thought of leaving you two alone for a bit."

"He needs rest, I shall not take that from him," Thranduil said. "I understood the underlying message; you did not?"

Legolas' eyes shone with something, and Aragorn understood. He walked back to Legolas and sat down on the other side.

"I shall stay until you are asleep," he reassured. "No worry."

"Thank you, Estel, Ada."

He held both of their hands and his grip did not lighten even though he gradually fell asleep. The two looked at each other and Aragorn said:

"If he has strength enough to cling like this, he should be up in no time."

"Tell me about it," Thranduil said and winced. "Legolas, ion-nin, that is my bones you are trying to crush. No matter how much I despise paperwork, I rather have my hand intact for the next pile of papers."

Legolas' grip eased slightly and the king stroke his son's forehead.

"Sleep deep, and long. See Mirkwood again before join us here," Thranduil murmured.


Aragorn pulled at the armour, Gandalf swatting away his hands from them and he tried to glare at the wizard. Gimli chuckled before his eyes widened.


The soon-king turned around and he smiled.

Legolas' hair was falling freely down his shoulders and back, the fragile-looking jewellery around his head oddly out-of-place after knowing him mostly as a warrior (he did not wear anything 'kingly' if he could prevent it) and the clothes making his entire frame shine. Thranduil walked behind him, his magnificent robes alerting Gimli who it was. His mood dampened a bit but when he noticed no ill looks came from the older elf he relaxed slightly.

"Mellon-nin," Aragorn said. "It pleases me more than anything to see you up on your feet again."

"I would not miss your crowning no matter what shape I was in," Legolas said.

"If you had to crawl?" the man suggested.

"Oh, shush you smelly human."

"It's king to you, princeling."

"Hn," was Legolas' productive answer as he pulled a bit at the armour and robes. "You will forever in my eyes be Estel, no matter what title you gain. If you permit it."

"You would not stop even if I forbade you."

"True," the elf said with a grin.

"Well…" Aragorn said. "Good thing I do permit it."

Thranduil hid a snort and Gandalf shook his head.

"Let's get this over, shall we?" the man said. "Legolas, stop pulling. It looks fine."

"No, it does not," the elf insisted and gave a last pull. "Now it looks perfect."

Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"Elves," he muttered.

"Would you have wanted me any other way?" Legolas questioned.

Aragorn looked at the friend he had nearly lost, but managed in the end to save and smiled before saying:

"No, my dear Legolas… I wouldn't."


Hey, the ending! Hope you all enjoyed it. It was a short story about Aragorn and Legolas, but that's okay too I guess.

Until another time,