- Take a piece of scone, soak it in water, add a few drops of miraworth and give your baby a crumb. His first teeth have already erupted and he can not only feed with milk. Yes! Give the wounded a sip of the miracle too.
Having passed the lembasse and mirimvor to the advisor, the king again sank on the grass and intentionally stopped talking. Istanen was glad to know that Trandil cared for his son and his subjects, so the grief did not completely break Lord Zelenolesya. But the king's voice sounded too even and colorless...
And Thranduil felt inside himself a huge ringing void. And it was good: no, the pain did not diminish, but as if moved somewhere outside the emptiness. And you can at least breathe... If a burnt face of his wife appeared in front of his inner gaze, Thranduil drove away from the vision with his will. The main thing was not to think, not to remember, not to move... The king spent the night in such numbness. And at dawn, the squad moved on.
The second day of the trip was quiet. And on the third day, there was a chase. Orcs were not going to give up the pursuit, the more so, a small squad of Nandor seemed to them easy prey.
In the morning the elves sleeping on the ground heard the stomping of many horseshoes. The whole squad jumped up at once.
- Orcs!
- Quickly! Remove traces of parking! - Commanded by the king, - and to the river! Orcs are not friends with water, we'll have a good time there somehow.
After a few moments, the light-legged elves were rushing towards the sunrise. Little Legolas was passed from hand to hand. Soon the detachment was on the shooter, where Anduin merged with Langwell, on the shoals lay a few logs, apparently once thrown out by the flood. Thranduil suddenly gave a strong order:
- Tie these logs together in two! And knock out the strong poles!
It is good that the forest elves did not consider the ropes to be an extra load! The logs had to be tied, however, with belts and torn cloaks. Soon, however, improvised rafts rushed downstream. The great river, after the recent rains, rose strongly and carried liquid structures with the speed of a good horse, spinning furiously and throwing up. But the forest elves were not accustomed to such jumps, because of their underground dwelling flowing out of no less turbulent river, on which they constantly rafted rafts. Laurenaro alone was not involved in the race, he sat with one hand clutching the rope tying the logs, and the other holding down Legolas' chest.
But in this way, the group quickly reached the beginning of the Elven Trail. Orcs were behind. Nandor cleverly jumped to the shore, let the logs downstream, and rushed to the darkening forest in the east. Poor Laurenaro had to lead for some time. The squad, having gathered the last forces, walked all night. The sun had already rolled out from behind the forest when the exhausted elves entered the shadow of age-old trees.
After a few dozen steps, Thranduil and Istannen announced a halt. Finally, exhausted Nandor literally fell right on the path. Here, under the majestic vaults of their native forest, they felt at home and somehow relaxed. When they came to their senses, the forest elves took up the task of setting up the camp. It was decided to make a fire and for the first time in all these days to cook something hotter. Istanen started feeding the prince, and the healer took up the bandage. Lorinoru announced that he was almost healthy, but advised to wash his eyes with an infusion of rosehip flowers for a few more days. But this is when they return to the underground palace. The king's healer was also quick to please: he took off the bandage and said that he wouldn't bandage anymore, but would grease his face and eye with ointment.
- The air of our native forest is the best medicine, my lord! And when we come home, I will make you a compress of acelas, and your face will be as smooth and beautiful as before!
These optimistic words woke up Thranduil. He looked at the healer in amazement, then at Lorinor and barely whispered:
- Just as smooth and beautiful... And why? For whom?!
The king suddenly stood up and stepped behind the trees. Laurenaro immediately rushed after him, caught up, clenched his shoulder with force:
- Don't you dare! It's too early to relax, we're not home yet! In the forest, too, there are enough dangers, spiders, in any case, we must beware. And orcs can risk walking along the Path. Hold on! Do you hear me?! The whole squad is looking at you now, hoping! Don't you dare!
Thranduil was held back by incredible efforts. He was suffocating, tears of tears tore his chest, and everything was blurred before his eyes. But then a child's crying came from the fire: Legolas felt his father's condition. Lorinor shook the parent over his shoulders again:
- You must approach your son!
Thranduil convulsively swallowed and headed for the camp. Taking his son in his arms, he was seasick for a long time, but he still did not calm down. Then he got tired of crying and fell asleep.
At first, the elves thought to stay here for 24 hours, but the Nandor was so eager to get home that in the evening they gathered the camp and moved on.