It shouldn't have surprised him. Tamriel would go for a drawf like him. Her heart was always bleeding for those who needed it, and injured as he was, he needed it. What blindsided him the most was that the feeling was reciprocated. It was depressing and it hurt in more ways than he could count. But he had to stay strong and keep focused. Orcs were crawling around, hiding in the shadows, biding their time and energy. Even though Legolas hadn't come across a pack of them yet, didn't mean that they weren't there. He kept his eyes peeled, seeking every shadow and keeping himself on edge. His bow and arrow at the ready at the moment's notice.
He had to get back to Mirkwood. There needed to be a strategy for this. Surely his father knew that the evil that plagued them would get through their walls again. Also, he had to inform him that Tamriel wouldn't be returning.
He was about to make the horse continue onwards, but when he glanced down he saw blood. It was a trail of it and it looked to be severe. Death. He debated only for a second before he lead the horse to the mouth of the cave and continued to follow the bloodtrail. If it was an Orc, then it wouldn't hurt to show mercy and kill it before it could give out any information, if information was gathered. If it was something or someone else....well...that actually depended on what that something or someone was.
The cave was dark and the trail of blood ended, but the scent began. It was close to death and it was horrid. He doubted that it was an Orc. No Orc would die in a cave. At least, not one that hadn't been attacked first. He kept his eye on the entrance of the cave, waiting for it to be some sort of elaborate trap or for his horse to bolt. Though he had to inwardly confess that Orcs might not be the smartest to pull off something of that feat. Not without a help of the necromancer that they were working under....
But safety first.
He walked further into the cave, not daring to voice. Until he heard a loud sigh that came close by. Diagonal and towards the back of the cave, right up against the wall. He could see a silhouette of a person. It wasn't an orc. He put away his bow and arrow. It looked like the person that was lying down was passed out, but not dead. Not yet. The breathing alerted him that time was of the essence.
This was war. As much as he hated to say or or even think it, there was no time for prejudices of the old. He might hate working with someone that was a drawf or a human, but....war wasn't picky as long as the side was right. He already seen Tamriel nearly lose someone and for this person, young or old, woman or not, to be a casualty didn't sit right with him. Carefully and mindful of the wounds, he picked her up.
"The Gods are really with you." He murmured as he looked at the entrance of the cave and thought about the quickest way to get to Mirkwood. Safety just might have to be a secondary precaution. Speed was his first. "You're very lucky." He could feel the blood sweeping through her side, coating his clothes and his hand with the precious substance. He got out of the cave, not willing to spend another moment in there and got on to the horse. He kept her steady and kicked the horse into action, making it yell and then take off at a run.
The woman in his arms, he noted, was obviously a half-ling. A half-elf and probably half-human. She looked to be more on the elven side with the shape of her face and the paleness of her skin, though that could be debatable due to the loss of blood. He mentally prepared himself for the inevitable argument that his father was going to bring up. Or anyone who dared to stop him at the gates.
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