Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Legolas and the Rangers ❯ Lost ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5

 

Lost

 

Legolas froze as he heard the ground groan.

 

He noted that there were actually several large cracks in the pathway, all tell tale signs yet somehow he hadn't seen them. The memory of his father's lessons came back to haunt Legolas as he recalled how his father had warned him to look for signs of underground caves after his Thranduil had broken his arm when he and the twins had fallen into a cave just beyond the High Pass many years ago.

 

All this he noted in a mere second yet without a second thought, he leapt across the gap already opening behind Blaen and careered into his back, sending the young ranger flying towards safety while he in turn, fell into the yawning blackness opened up beneath their feet.

 

Legolas had only a moment to realise that he was falling towards water when suddenly it was rushing up to meet him and then swallowing him.

 

Instantly his bow was smashed from his hands as the current caught him and carried him forwards.

 

It was incredibly dark and Legolas immediately brightened his elven glow as high as it could go in a vain attempt to see what was happening around him. It was off little use though as it only spread as far as a metre or so around his body in the crushing water.

 

The Prince was surprised however, to discover that while the stream was only about a metre wide, it was at least two deep giving Legolas a little more room to maneuver.

 

It was only seconds though, before Legolas had his first contact with the wall of the stream; still not yet worn smooth after hundreds of years.

 

Legolas cried out as his back scraped hard along the wall, leaving deep, jagged cuts behind. Opening his mouth was a mistake as he immediately took in a lungful of water.

 

Legolas coughed and frantically clawed his way to the surface but the current was terribly strong and didn't let him surface until spots were dancing before his vision. The elf had only a moment to snatch a lungful of air before he was forced under again.

 

The current threw him hard against the wall a second time. There was no mistaking the cracking noise that filled his ears nor the blinding pain that raced across the right side of his chest. The Prince struggled for a moment not to open his mouth and voice his pain but he couldn't stop it when the water twisted his body hard, severely aggravating his ribs.

 

Water filled his lungs a second time but Legolas was rewarded with a much quicker return to the surface where he was able to pull in several lung fills of air this time.

 

The current dragged him under once more and sent Legolas tumbling along the floor of the stream. By the time the elf rolled over a fourth time, he was very nearly ready to throw up yet all that was dashed from his mind when he glimpsed the approaching rock face where the stream turned sharply to its right.

 

Panicked, Legolas thrust out his left leg to prevent himself crashing into the wall only to hit it hard and again feel the snapping of bone.

 

Legolas very nearly lost consciousness under the painful assault and for several moments, he simply floated along in a stunned trace, desperately fighting the darkness threatening to overwhelm him.

 

It was his head breaking the surface that roused Legolas and for only a split second, he saw a sign of hope before he was helplessly dragged under again.

 

This time he fought, struggling with sheer desperation to steer himself towards his right.

 

The stream was still at the same depth but now much wider at about at least five metres. The current refused to be thwarted though and dragged heavily at the Prince. The only advantage it gave Legolas was the buoyancy, which supported his body and took some of the pressure off his broken bones.

 

With a final desperate grunt, Legolas threw himself at the small ledge. His fingers snagged it and for one moment, he thought that he might be ripped away. With a tremendous force of effort though, the Prince threw up his other hand and managed to catch hold of the ledge more firmly with that one. Not allowing time for rest, Legolas dragged his body closer to the ledge and managed to heave his upper body onto it.

 

For a moment, he paused and panted harshly as he tried to regain his breath. Knowing that he had to get out of the water before it had a chance to dash him off his precious ledge, Legolas dragged his body further onto the ledge. His next task was to get his good leg up but that proved to be a difficult task as he struggled against the pounding of the current.

 

Eventually he succeeded and was able to pull his broken one up as well, wincing as he did so. He quickly scooted back until his back was pressed against the stream wall panting heavily. He had no desire to go back into that stream which had very nearly taken his life.

 

As he sat there, he became aware of the throbbing in his ribs and the searing pain in his leg. Somehow, his pack had survived and was still on his back but its contents were wet through and through. Legolas couldn't help grimacing at the thought of eating soggy lembas bread. Most of his arrows were gone along with his bow and one of his white handled knives.

 

He sighed forlornly and used his remaining knife to cut up his dripping cloak into strips for bandages. He used most of them tying up his broken leg. It had only been a crack as far as he could tell which he was extremely pleased about because at least it was not as severe as he had first believed.

 

His ribs were more difficult and he ended up cutting up his light green tunic, which he had previously worn underneath his darker green jerkin. The bandages around his ribs weren't really enough but they'd have to do.

 

Finished at last, Legolas took the time to observe his surroundings. The ledge was only about a metre squared with just enough room between his head and the ceiling to sit comfortably upright. Strange glowing funguses grew beneath the water on the floor of the stream giving the small cavern in which Legolas found himself a dim glow.

 

For the first time, the enormity of Legolas' situation sunk in. He was alone, who knew how far beneath the earth's surface with hardly any food and several severe injuries.

 

Turning to the cavern wall behind him, he desperately searched for dirt but found only rock. There was no way out that way. The only way was back into the stream, which he assumed would eventually emerge as a spring somewhere but Legolas was too terrified to even think about the idea.

 

Eventually he settled down and tried to sleep, only discovering then that he'd forgotten the jagged wounds on his back. The bandage for his ribs had covered them for now and they didn't seem to be bleeding badly so Legolas had to contend with lying on his side, trying not to let the misery of his situation sink in.

 

After a while, he sunk into a fitful doze, his eyes closed in exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

When Legolas next woke, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. He checked over his wounds and discovered that they were fine for the moment.

 

Digging in his pack, he found a package of lembas and ate half of it. It was indeed wet and soggy and like Legolas had predicted, he couldn't help grimacing as he ate it.

 

That done, he tried to access his situation a second time and this time, he also checked the roof above him and as far as he could lean out from his ledge without falling in. Again though, he only discovered rock.

 

Telling himself not to panic, Legolas started to pull at the bits of rock trying to dislodge them but to little avail. His fingers were brushed and cut before he picked up his knife and tried to use that instead.

 

The rock wouldn't budge however so Legolas decided to go to his pack and try and see if there was anything in there that would be of use. All he had was a length of elvish rope, a spare tunic and pair of leggings, a small number of healing herbs, a few parcels of lembas, a pack of playing cards in case he got bored and some essential cooking items.

 

The cards were ruined so he threw those away along with his clothing, which he didn't think he'd need anymore since he didn't really get cold like the race of men and it would only drag him down if he had to get back into the stream as he suspected. He also threw away his cooking items and his boots which were too heavy to swim in really.

 

He swallowed a few of the herbs to build up his strength and fight off any threats of infection then packed all the items he'd decided to keep back into his pack along with his quiver and the arrows. His knife he kept close at hand in case he needed it although he didn't know why but he just felt safer with it.

 

After that, he settled back. His courage certainly wasn't at full strength and he was reluctant to brave the waters just yet. His injuries were also a problem. He couldn't sit around and wait for them to heal which would be four or so weeks because he would run out of food and although he wouldn't starve, he knew he'd come close to it. Elves could go much longer without sleep and food than humans but certainly not forever. Even if they healed, he'd be too weak to swim.

 

He decided that maybe over a few days, he might be able to come up with another solution. For the time being, he would sit back and give his body some time to recover. Softly he sang an elven song to himself to keep up his spirits.

 

* * *

 

Legolas remained on his ledge for what he estimated to be a week while he gave his injuries time to heal. They were all doing well and the cuts on his back were mere scabs now.

 

In contrast, his spirits were low with the pressing down of the earth above him and no sign of the stars or sun in a week but he tried not to let it get to him.

 

By then his food had run out. Legolas had decided that once it had, if he'd come up with nothing then he'd have to get back into the stream. Fortunately, he'd come up with a bit of a plan. He was going to try and use his knife to control his passage by using it to grip the wall whenever he had the chance. It wasn't much but it was all he could think to do.

 

Getting back into the stream was an entirely different matter. He could not stop thinking of his terror as he'd been swept along nor the lack of control he'd had over the situation.

 

There was nothing he could do though. He either had to stay put and wait for death or take the chance that he might survive the stream and maybe live to see another day.

 

In the end, he moved so that he was sitting on the edge of his precious ledge with his feet dangling in the water.

 

He sat for some time before reluctantly lowering himself into the water. He clung to the ledge for a moment, trying to fight back his fear yet afraid to let go of the only safety he'd had for the last week.

 

The decision was taken from him though when his fingers suddenly lost their grip and with a small cry, he was pulled away from safety by the stream.