Chapter one

"Aurgell? You can wake up now, Aurgell. Please, wake up now. The monsters are gone now, we can go home," The teary eyed elfling said as he shook the shoulder of one of the nonresponsive warriors. Upon getting no reaction from the guard, he turned to another warrior on the ground and tried to get a reaction from him instead.

"Stop it, please. You're scaring me! Wake up. I want to go home to Ada, please," He went around to each of the seven warriors, repeating the same plea to all of them, only getting more desperate when he was only answered with silence.

Finally the little elfling went back to his caretaker and fell to his knees beside him. "Gradow, please wake up. We need to go home," he sobbed. He laid his little head down on to the warrior's unmoving chest and continued to sob, as he watched Aurgell's face for any sign of waking.

What do I do now? The little elfling thought. He remembered his Ada telling him to always stay with his guard, so that is what he would do. Surely they all just needed a little rest, then they would all wake up and they could go home tomorrow.

Not after too long the little elfling finally succumb to his exhaustion, and curled up next to his caretaker with his head pillowed on the warrior's, cold, unmoving chest. His eyes glazed over into elven sleep, as his mind wandered off into dreams of home.

After a while the elfling finally woke up, only to curl back up in pain. Now that he was relaxed and the adrenaline had a chance to leave his system; he acutely felt the pain in the back of his head, where one of the monsters had clubbed him.

It made me go to sleep. He remembered. Maybe Aurgell got whacked on the head too. That's why they are all still sleeping, They are sleepy because they have owies. But I have an owie too. He remembered as his poor little head throbbed with each beat of his heart.

"Please wake up Aurgell. Please make my owie not ouchie," he begged, as he once again tried to shake the guard awake. He took the guard's hand and started to cry out of fear and confusion as the hand felt oddly cold and stiff, not warm and lax as it usually did when he took his caretaker's hand.

Just then, the elfling's ears perked up as he heard a sound coming from the woods around the clearing. He hid next to his caretaker in fear as he identified the sounds as footsteps and voices. However the voices were speaking in the common tongue, a language the elfling had yet to learn, and the steps were much too heavy to be that of an elf's.

"Please, wake up! Please," he cried quietly into his caretaker's ear, as a small group of men finally appeared into the clearing.

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"Damm," One of the men breathed, as he caught sight of the bodies of the mirkwood patrol. "Check for survivors," He ordered, as he went over to the nearest warrior. He knelt down, and gently placed his fingers on the warrior's neck to check for a pulse. Finding none, he respectfully closed the warrior's eyes before moving onto the next.

"Fonter! There's a younging over here!" a tall red haired man called. Fonter looked over in the direction of the shouter to see that indeed, a tiny elfling was clinging fearfully to one of the clearly deceased.

"Give 'im some space. Poor thing looks on the verge of fainting from frigh'," he ordered, as he saw some of the other men approach out of curiosity. None of them have ever seen an elven child before.

The elfling started to tremble from fright, and shook the dead guard's arm urgently, as large fear filled tears rolled down his angelic face. Slowly, Fonter approached the child with his hands out, like how one might approach a frightened animal, and held what he hoped was a calming smile on his face.

"Easy there lad. There's no need to be afraid. We're not 'bout to hurt ya," He soothed, as he held out his hands in a way that asked for the child's permission to be picked up.

This only seemed to scare the child even more, as he placed his hands over his head in defence with his eyes squeezed shut. With his arms out in the open and no longer on the warrior, Fonter and the other men could easily see blood coating the tiny hands. It was impossible to discern whether it was the child's own blood or not.

Alarmed, Fonter carefully reached out and took the child's wrists. He screeched in fright, and desperately tried to pull away, but Fonter gently held the squirming child close to him, and pulled the tiny hands over to himself so that he could see them.

Gently, he pulled the whaling elfling into his lap, with the child's back pressed against his own broad chest, and started to clean the blood away with a swath of cloth from his pocket.

He was relieved to find no injuries on the tiny hands, but upon looking back down at the terrified child, he discovered some more blood weeping from the back of his head, staining the golden strands of his hair crimson.

Fonter then gently yet securely wrapped one of his arms around the child's chest to hold him still, as his other hand parted the soft locks to see what damage was done. The elfling only shrieked in both pain and fright and thrashed around even harder in the restrictions of the man's arm.

"BAW! BAW! DAR!" The child shrieked before choking on his sobs of fright.

"Fonter, stop. You're jus' scarein' the poor thing," the red headed man said, as he watched the heart breaking scene.

"What do expect me to do, Beraddes? He's injured, an' if I let 'im go, he might jus' run off an' get 'imself hurt, or even worse, killed," he protested, as he adjusted his hold on the elfling to get a more secure grasp on the wriggling body.

"I think I've got somethin' that migh' help. It's this stuff I got from the healers to rub on my own younin' before bed. It doesn't actually put 'em to sleep, but it does work in calmin' and making 'em a bit on the drowsy side. It won't hurt 'im none. If you can get 'im out of his tunic, I can rub some of the stuff on his chest. Maybe then we can do somethin' about that wound of his," Beraddes proposed, as he slung his pack off of his shoulder to retrieve the jar that contained the soothing cream.

Fonter nodded in agreement to the plan, and gently started to pull up the dark green material that made up the elfling's tunic. The elfling shrieked in terror as he felt himself being disrobed, and leaned forwards to sink his little teeth into the man's arm. Fonter grunted in pain as the little one sunk his teeth in with surprising strength; enough strength to break the skin and make him bleed. But Fonter held firm and didn't loosen his grip in the slightest.

Beraddes came to his rescue by gently pressing down on the little one's jaw in just the right place to make him release his grip.

"Now now, there's no need to bite," he chastised, as he took the stopper from the bottle, releasing a soothing aroma in the air. He then carefully poured some of the creamy lotion into his hand and began to massage it into the child's skin while Fonter held the child imobile. Seeing as the bottle was snuggled up to the man's side while in the pack, it had an unintended warmth to it, adding to its soothing properties.

After only about five minutes, the elfing ceased his struggling, and his sobs of fright were reduced to silent tears, however he still remained tense in Fonter's grasp.

"It's startin' to work. We should take a quick look at his head, then get on outta here. We gotta get back to the village and 'im to safety," Beraddes said, as he tenderly rearranged the child in Fonter's lap so that he could get a clear view of the back of his head.

He carefully felt around the child's head, looking for any unnatural bumps or divots that would indicate a fractured skull. Fortunately he felt none.

"I'll wrap it up for now, but once we get to the village, we need see about gettin' some stitches put in," he said, as he pulled some bandages from his bag and wrapped them around the child's head to create a headband of sorts.

"Looks good enough for now. I'll ride with 'im, and then he can stay with me. Erima has been sayin' that she's been missing takin' care of kids ever since our son moved out to be on his own. She'll be more than happy to have 'im around to take care of," Fonter said, as he observed Beraddes handy work. Beraddes nodded in agreement.

"I would take 'im in, but we just don't got the room. I'll bring my little boy over at some point though. He migh' feel a bit better with someone his own age around. You should probably take the lotion too. My kid doesn't need it as much as he does right now."

With that said he slipped the bottle into Fonter's bag and rounded up the men to get moving again. While the two of them were distracted by the elfling, the rest of the men had collected the deceased warriors' weapons to give to the families, and buried the bodies deep enough to keep scavengers from trying to dig them back up.

Fonter carefully lifted the now sleepy child up into his arms and carried him over to his horse. He handed the elfling over to Beraddes while he mounted up, and then reached back out to take up the child once more. He sat the child down sideways on the saddle in front of him and gently wrapped a secure arm around him to keep him from slipping down.

"Alright men, let's move out," he called, as he steered his large chestnut colored stallion in the direction of home.

After a while of riding, he felt the child lean back into his chest. He looked down to see the elfling's mouth slightly open and his eyes half lidded with a glazed over, vacant look. He smiled as he came to the realization that the little one had fallen into the elven version of sleep. He had heard of the way that elves sleep, but never got to see it in person before, and he found himself oddly intrigued by it.

I wonder how his eyes don't get dry. He thought, as he gently wrapped his cloak around the little one to keep him warm.

Night was fast approaching, and with it came the sudden nipping cold of late fall. The horses' hooves crunched slightly as he trotted over the fallen leaves, then quickly turned into a clopping sound as they went over a small wooden bridge expanding over a small creek to reach a cozy looking home nestled between a couple ancient oaks.

A tall sturdy woman opened the door of the cottage to greet the home comers. The light of the fire slipped past her to illuminate the front yard, as well as cast a silhouette of her figure.

"Fonter! I'm glad you're finally home," She said, as she stepped down from the house to accompany her husband to the Barn.

"Me too, Love. Me too. But Erima, I need to tell ya about what happen today. It's important," The man said, as he carefully slipped down from the proud stallion, with his cloak gently nestled in the crook of his left arm, and held securely against his chest.

"What is that?" Erima gasped, as she saw something move sluggishly in the confines of the cloak.

Fonter looked down at the small bundle held in his arm, before gently pulling away at the fabric that hid the tiny figure from view; careful not to wake him.

Erima covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a gasp as she beheld the tiny blonde haired creature enfolded within the warm cloak. She then reached out and gently snatched the precious bundle away from her husband to press him against her own bosom. She gave a distressed sigh as she noticed the slight red stain on the back of the bandaged head.

"Poor babe," she cooed. "You take care of that horse, then come in and tell me what happened," she ordered, as she turned and swiftly carried the elfling into the warm house.

With all of the shifting of positions and fussing hands, it was no surprise when the child's eyes cleared as he returned to the waking world. He blinked lazily as he looked around the room he was in, before suddenly sitting up, as fear started to creep back over him at the sight of the unfamiliar room.

"Easy now. It's alright," she cooed to the skittish child. His head whipped around to look at her, before his eyes widened at the sight of a stranger holding him in her arms. He shrieked and started to struggle fiercely in her grasp.

"Alright. Alright," she said, as she hurriedly set the terrified child down on a cushioned couch. He scooted himself back into a corner on the couch before grabbing the cloak and pulling it over himself to hide under.

She gave a pitiful laugh, finding the sight both adorable and sad at the same time. It felt like watching a kitten cry.

"Peace child. Peace. I won't hurt you none. I just want look at your head," she soothed, while gently sitting down on the couch next to him.

She made no move to touch him. Simply sitting quietly next to him, letting him take his time to calm down. Eventually, Fonter entered the house and took note of the slight standoff. Erima simply waved him away to clean up a bit. He was rather filthy, and the child only seemed more tense with his presence.

Finally, after nearly an hour of sitting all scrunched up in the corner; the little elfling seemed to tire of being scared, and allowed himself to finally relax. Seeing the visible change in the child; Erima slowly reached over and gently pulled the cloak away so she could see him better. He watched her wearily, but didn't pull away when she reached to tenderly run her hand over the silken locks on his head.

"See? You have nothing to fear little one," she whispered, as she pulled herself closer to him so that she could remove the bandage wrapped around his head and see what damage had been done.

"How bad is it?" Fonter asked quietly from the end of the room.

Erima looked up, a bit surprised that she hadn't heard him walk into the room. Thankfully though, the elfling didn't startle at Fonter's presence. He just seemed too tired to truly care anymore.

"It's not too bad. It stopped bleeding, so it won't need stitches. I just need to clean it up and wrap it back up again," She replied, as she gently smoothed the child's hair back.

"Good," Fonter smiled. He walked over to them and knelt down in front of the elfling. The child shied away from him slightly, but otherwise remained calm. "Don't you worry none. We're going to take good care of you until we can get you home," he soothed.

While he was talking to the elfling, Erima got up and went about wetting a rag with warm water to clean the wound on the child's head, as well as a medicated tea to help with the pain.

"Hold still, babe," she said, as the child pulled away from her, with a small whimper of pain. She then gently bathed the back of the child's head with the warm water, cleaning the blood away as well as disinfecting the wound. The child squirmed a bit while she treated the wound, but did his best to stay still.

Once she had rewrapped his head with a fresh bandage, she then tried to coax him into drinking the tea she had, but he stubbornly refused the drink by turned his head away. Fonter even tried to get the child to drink, but he simply wouldn't give in.

"Alright, have it your way then." Erima finally relented as she set the mug to the side. She then went about making a nest of some sort out of blankets and pillows around the elfling so that he couldn't just roll off of the couch in the middle of the night.

"I'll get a proper bed for 'im tomorrow, but for now, he should be jus' fine," she said as she and Fonter watched together as the child snuggled down and curled himself around one of larger pillows. Fonter smiled at the child's cuteness and pulled one of the blankets higher up to rest on the child's shoulders and tucked under his chin.

"We should be gettin' to bed too," Fonter said, as he gently reached around to rest his hand on his wife's hip.

She smiled as she turned to give him a quick peck on the lips. "You did a good thing today," she praised. And with that, they left the child to sleep on the couch as they went to get some sleep themselves.

TBC.

Translation:

Aurgell

(Aur-gell)- morning joy

Gradow- Brother by heart

Ada- Dad

Baw- No

Dar- stop

Thanks for reading. Since you took the time to read the story, I sincerely ask you to please take two seconds and tell me if you liked it. I'm happy with anything, even something as simple as a smiley face.

I am also open to suggestions. What do you want to see happen? Let me know and I'll see if it can be done.

Thanks for reading, and happy Fourth of July.

You are a beautiful person. ;)