Disclaimer: I do not own LotR. Still.
Warnings: Genre. Enough said.
I don't know how satisfied I am with this story, but it'll do, lol. I debated long and hard over the ending—I've never had such a hard time deciding, and actually almost did both versions. No. I'm not going to do it now. Don't ask. xD
Unfortunately, this is the only thing I've written so far this year. I'm in the process of finding a place to live and will be moving soon. I'm not quite sure about the whole internet thing yet, but… Hopefully I'll get some writing done at least…? Internet's a huge distraction there…
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Let me know what ya think. n.n
What Will Never Be
Legolas' mouth was set in a grim line as he wiped the blood off his twin knives onto his already stained leggings. His sapphire eyes scanned his surroundings for any moving orcs.
His dark-haired companion came up next to him. "That's the last of them," Estel said while he made to clean off his own filthy blade.
Legolas nodded in return and turned to him. The man was covered in dirt and dark blood but seemed unharmed.
Estel raised an eyebrow at the elf but subconsciously checked him over as well.
A smile soon brightened Legolas' features. "'Tis a wondrous day, mellon-nin," he finally said in disbelief as he placed a slender hand on Estel's shoulder.
The man chuckled at the prince and shook his head, although he couldn't agree more. It was rare indeed for the two to come out of any fight without one or both of them limping off the battleground.
They had been ambushed by the horde of orcs—unable to flee before they had attacked. They often fought orcs but this trip had been one of pleasure, not business. Estel had gone ahead to meet up with Legolas on his way from Mirkwood. When he had gotten the letter from the prince telling of his travels he had thought it would be a pleasant surprise. Indeed, Legolas had welcomed his company, especially after he had sensed the orcs.
Estel and Legolas made ready to move out as they gathered their packs and whistled for their horses. Most grateful that both horses were unharmed, the two started back towards Imladris.
About four hours of riding later, the two were welcomed with open arms by Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir.
"Come, you are just in time for the evening meal!" the elf-lord exclaimed happily. To see them both back and well was a fantastic change. He nearly had the healing wing prepared for them.
Estel made a face at his foster father while the twins smiled behind him.
"Aye, so I had them delay…" Elrond grinned, a light in his eyes. As soon as the guards of Imladris had seen the two approaching, he had given the word to stall the meal for them.
They laughed, everyone in good moods at their safe return.
"Let me get Elen settled and then I shall join you," Legolas suggested, patting his mare's neck.
"Nonsense. Have the stable hands take care of her for you this night," Elrond demanded, nodding towards two elves that stood nearby. "It's been far too long since we have seen you, penneth."
Legolas could only give in to the elder elf's wishes and so Elen was handed over after some affectionate attention.
Elrond walked ahead while the twins chatted animatedly about what he had missed.
Estel stepped beside him and draped his arm across his shoulders, pulling him close as he laughed, "We are not the only ones to think this a wondrous day."
Legolas tilted his head back and laughed, the melodious sound carrying on the wind.
…
Legolas and Estel had first gone to their chambers to change and wash up before meeting the others for the meal. The meal had been pleasant and had lasted for a couple hours while the five had sat around the table talking.
Elrond was pulled away by his duties but he had allowed the twins and Estel to stay by Legolas' side and give him a proper welcome—they were so rarely given, or were given at his bedside.
The four moved to the library so the kitchen staff could clean up. They sat by the hearth, the sounds of the fire a soothing background noise as they conversed. The trip had been a long one for Legolas but he had been so excited to be able to catch a break from his princely duties and see his friends that he didn't mind how long they stayed up and talked.
Estel, Elladan and Elrohir's voices started to pound in his ears, however, and their faces blurred.
He shifted his head slightly and blinked rapidly to clear his vision. He was shocked when the movement sent a stab of pain throughout his skull. He hid his discomfort while trying to piece together the words Elladan now spoke.
What a time for a headache, he thought.
Estel turned to him quizzically, a worried look in his stormy eyes.
Legolas shook his head with a smile, causing him to hide another wince.
About another hour passed and the pain had only intensified. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide it much longer.
The blonde almost sighed with relief when Elladan and Elrohir stood and told them they were retiring for the night.
Estel and Legolas stood as well and walked with them to their chambers before heading to their own. However, when they reached the hall with their chambers, the man placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. The grey eyes bore into blue darkened by pain. "What is it, Legolas?" he questioned in concern.
Legolas started to shake his head but quickly stopped himself. "Nothing, Estel," he automatically replied. At the man's look of doubt, he amended, "Only a headache, mellon-nin."
Estel searched Legolas' face before nodding in satisfaction at the answer. "Would you like some tea to lessen the pain?"
"Nay, it will soon pass. Hannon le," Legolas said with appreciation.
Estel could tell the pain was great by the elf's tight features but didn't pester. He knew the prince's pride, and it was only a headache.
The two bid each other a good night and went into their bedchambers.
The morning came much too quick for Legolas and he couldn't force himself to get out of bed. The pounding in his head had only grown over night and he felt weak.
He groaned as he rolled over, hoping to get comfortable and fall back asleep.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
…
Estel frowned when he glanced at Legolas' empty chair and then at the door, expecting the young elf to enter, apologizing for being late.
Elrond followed the man's gaze and met the grey eyes. He saw the worry reflected in them.
"Is there something you did not tell us last night?" Elrohir asked the question they were all wondering.
This was very unlike Legolas, for he was always on time to the morning meal, getting up early to greet the new day and listen to the birds.
A bad feeling grabbed hold of Estel's heart.
The man slowly shook his head. "I'm going to check on him…" he trailed off as he stood and hurriedly made his way out the door.
The three exchanged concerned glances, and they prayed the prince hadn't kept a wound secret from them.
Estel quickly reached Legolas' chambers as he practically ran down the halls so great was his worry. When he stood in front of the door, he forced himself to take a deep breath before opening it. Mayhap he had merely overslept because of his exhausting trip from Mirkwood, he tried to tell himself.
He knocked first, expecting a reply. However, when none came, his heart sped up with fear.
Without further hesitation, he rushed in and over to Legolas' bed where he quickly found him: his sheets were rumpled and the curtains were even still drawn.
It had only been a headache…
"Legolas?" His voice came out choked, afraid of what he would find.
The only response given was heavy breathing.
As he finally got a good look at Legolas a gasp escaped at the sight. The elf's eyes were shut tightly, his brow beaded with sweat, his lips parted slightly as he panted for breath and his cheeks were red with fever.
"Legolas!" he shouted, hoping to wake him. He couldn't believe this had happened. He had known something was wrong last night. Had Legolas some wound he didn't know about? He should have pried!
All this Estel thought in frenzy as he tore the sheet off the blonde and desperately searched him for an injury. Legolas was unresponsive to his shouts and pleas, and tears pricked his eyes as the guilt consumed him.
Estel tried to swallow his panic as he took in his friend, trying to make the healer in him take over.
The healer would not have missed this! he thought furiously.
He paused in his frantic movements and sprinted towards the door, shouting down the halls until a maid answered. Thankful that she had been close by, he quickly told her to retrieve Elrond immediately—no matter his task.
With that done, he was back at Legolas' side. He needed his father.
"Estel…"
The man jumped at the sound of his own name said so weakly.
"Aye, mellon-nin, I am here," he was quick to soothe.
The archer's eyes opened and the dull, pained look that consumed the usually bright, cheerful eyes made him almost weep.
"Why did you not tell us of the wound? Where is the pain at, Legolas?" he asked, trying to get his friend focused and find where exactly the injury was. He hadn't seen anything on him first glance.
"…Everywhere," the prince said through clenched teeth, closing his eyes tightly.
Estel looked sadly at his friend and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. For Legolas to even admit that he was in pain told him a lot, and for him to say that it was everywhere…
"I need you to keep your eyes open and stay with me, mellon-nin. Tell me where the wound is," he said gently while trying to inspect the elf. He had looked over Legolas before they had even left from their fight, as had Legolas looked at him. He didn't understand.
He had had a headache last night.
The man carefully checked the blonde for any cut he may have acquired on his head. Not a scratch.
"Lay still," Estel commanded when Legolas suddenly began shifting.
However, the young elf didn't listen and kept squirming.
"Legolas!" he yelled to get his attention.
His friend started to groan between his movements and, especially at the lack of response, fear clenched a heavy fist around his heart.
The door burst open.
And Estel was able to breathe a sigh of relief at Elrond rushing in. The sight took off some of the edge and he was hopeful.
Elrond had brought herbs and bandages and pots and anything he could think he even might need with him since the maid had been very urgent and determined. He dumped everything on a nearby desk and rushed over to the bed. With one glimpse of Legolas it was obvious some type of poison was at play and so Elrond said nothing but started to search with his son to find the infected wound. By Estel's panic-stricken expression he knew his son had no idea where it was located.
Elrond tapped Legolas' face and called his name, hoping to get some type of response. He frowned, scanning his pale features while placing a hand on his forehead.
"He's been barely conscious since I entered. He's said only my name," Estel informed his father, his eyes never leaving Legolas. "He admitted to a headache last night…"
Elrond wrenched his gaze from Legolas at the guilt-drenched words and saw the forlorn look the grey eyes held as they continued to sweep over the unconscious elf before them. However, the healer had no time to try and quell his son's self-blaming thoughts. First he had to save Legolas' life.
They had the prince stripped so the clothes wouldn't hinder their frantic search. They had found no deep wounds and, at first, were perplexed.
"Here!" Estel suddenly shouted in excitement. Not a wound had been seen during their search and they had been concentrating so hard that Elrond jumped up and immediately went into action. There was a slight scratch on Legolas' collarbone as though he had dodged what would have been a devastating blow but the blade had still left its mark. The scratch had seemed just that at his first once-over until they had had a need to examine everything because of the lack of deep cuts. The scratch was a deep purple, the area slightly swollen.
The poison was strong, especially to be able to attack Legolas so from a mere scratch.
Elrond and Estel thoroughly cleaned the wound, applied a salve and dressed the area hoping to slow whatever poison was coursing through the prince's body.
After, Elrond crushed and mixed herbs together into a tea, placing what he hoped to be the cure inside. The poison had had all night to do its damage, and he just prayed it wasn't too late.
Estel managed to wake Legolas enough to drink the contents, although he was vaguely aware of his surroundings and the man had to help him. Then they carefully dressed Legolas in some of Estel's night clothes since they were bigger and left the top untied so they could still have easy access to the infected area when needed.
Elrond picked up the bowl he had brought everything in and disappeared into the bathing chambers to come back with cold water and a towel to place on Legolas' forehead. They had to bring the fever down. The usually bright eyes were glazed over from the fever and poison and were only half-open. Legolas had said nothing during everything and he had his eyes shut tightly.
Estel's eyes were wide with fear as he watched his friend suffer, fighting for his life.
…
He was on fire. At least he was convinced of it until it persisted. No one could be aflame for this long and still be alive, right…?
His chest constricted painfully as he tried to gasp in breaths of desperately needed air. He could feel himself being moved and he groaned as it sent spikes of pain throughout his body.
He heard panicked voices through the fog and wanted to know what was happening. When he forced his eyes open he could see nothing through the haze.
Am I dreaming? he thought, fear racing through him. What had happened?
He felt another shift and this time the pain consumed him, taking his breath away.
And he knew nothing more.
…
Elladan and Elrohir had soon joined them, most worried when the maid had fetched their father in such a rush. Elrond had told them to give him a moment before they crowded Legolas, unsure of what had happened. Neither Elrond nor Estel had had time to even think about telling the twins about Legolas being poisoned so they had gone to check for themselves. When they had first seen Legolas, surprised would have been an extreme understatement.
The four stayed by the prince's side, taking turns rewetting the cloth that was attached to his forehead. Legolas was completely unaware and, except for the groans and gasps for breath, he made no sound, and besides the occasional twitch, he made no movement. He was incredibly weak. The poison had taken over completely and held on tight.
Each prayed that it wasn't too late.
"I knew something was wrong," Estel whispered, finally breaking the silence after hours. He couldn't help but keep thinking about his friend's headache—the headache that he had noticed and thought nothing of.
Elrond froze while mixing the next batch of tea for Legolas. In his fear he had forgotten his youngest son's guilt.
The twins fixed Estel with looks of disbelief.
"There was no way you could have known, Estel," Elrond said sternly, but resumed making the tea. It would be a lot harder to console Estel if Legolas didn't recover.
This was news to the twins, however, and they wondered when and how their brother had known something was wrong with the archer.
"He had a fierce headache last night," the man explained, his voice full of unshed tears, "and I knew."
"Ion-nin, I doubt even Legolas knew," the elder elf continued, now moving over to the bed and beside Estel. He had the tea in hand and motioned for the man to help him.
Elladan and Elrohir watched the two feed the young elf the tea little by little until it was all gone while they wondered how they hadn't noticed his pain.
All of them had thought this had been the one trip where neither of them had been injured. How wrong they had been! Legolas was closer to death than ever before.
Once Estel had settled Legolas back down and made him as comfortable as he could, Elladan pulled him into a hug.
Estel, Elrond and the twins sat by the sick elf's side for hours, only moving when rewetting Legolas' cloth, changing the water, giving him tea, or redressing the wound that looked so insignificant.
Still, Legolas showed no signs of consciousness; no signs of improvement.
By the time the evening meal came, Legolas' breaths were even more shallow, his heartbeat slower, and his fever higher. An hour later, Estel shot up, a panicked look in his eyes, "Ada, he's not breathing!"
It had taken what had felt like hours but they had succeeded in getting him to breathe on his own again. Since this scare, Estel wouldn't move from the chair he had pulled up beside the young elf's bedside and he kept his fingers resting on his wrist for his pulse. Elrond had only left Legolas' chambers once after that and that was to retrieve more herbs that he hoped would help combat the poison. No one spoke, no one moved; the only sound was Legolas' shallow, wheezing breaths.
This was how the night slowly passed and Legolas had only grown weaker, his fever impossibly higher. It had gotten to the point where the archer could no longer swallow the tea that Elrond prepared him, and they had had to painstakingly drip the liquid down his throat.
The fear of Legolas' death was a palpable force within the room.
Tears formed in Estel's eyes as he watched his friend deteriorate before him, helpless. He moved his other hand over Legolas', both hands resting on the blonde. He prayed this night wouldn't be his last—the last time he would see Legolas' sapphire eyes full of love and cheer, last time he would see his smile and laugh, the last time he would see him…
He had known something was wrong.
Legolas' form became blurry as he silently sobbed for his best friend.
Hands were placed on each shoulder, giving him comfort.
The man looked at Elladan and Elrohir, and didn't care that they saw the wet trails running down his cheeks. Each held a forlorn expression, their eyes locked on the sick elf before them.
Elrond soon brought over some more tea, sorrowfully looking down at the one he thought of as a son.
He was dying.
And he feared he could do nothing to stop it.
…
Estel held Legolas up while his father slowly fed him the tea. He prayed that it would help but he was afraid it was far too late. It had taken too long for them to realize he had been poisoned, and it had been too strong.
They were all terrified.
After the cup was empty he slowly lowered Legolas.
"Estel…" The name was said so quietly that the man hadn't been sure he had heard anything but for the elves around him: Elrond had stopped and turned to face Legolas and the twins both stared with wide eyes.
"Legolas, I am here," he said, quickly sitting down beside the blonde and taking his hand into both of his, cradling it.
Legolas closed his eyes with a wince, too weak to hide his pain. His hand was squeezed gently and he gave the man a tired smile. He couldn't believe how strong the poison was and even he knew his recovery to be unlikely. It was exactly because of his that he had forced himself to stay awake.
The others were relieved when Legolas' eyes reopened, having feared they had lost him already. However, they were extremely saddened by the pained mask he now wore.
Legolas beckoned Estel closer, needing to know the man could hear his every word as it was a strain to speak. He knew of his friend's guilt and he knew he was dying. He needed to dispel some of Estel's hurt.
"'Tis no fault... of yours. Even I knew not," he whispered slowly. "Mayhap... it was not... so wonderful."
He weakly laughed, and Estel choked on a sob, a slight sad smile accompanying.
Elrond and the twins watched quietly, tears threatening to fall hearing Legolas' words. The weak sound of his voice warned them all…
Estel leaned over and kissed Legolas' clammy forehead gently. "We will fight this, mellon-nin," he encouraged, his heart already breaking.
…
A couple hours later the four only tried to make Legolas more comfortable; the tea now mostly to dull the pain. They sat around him while they sadly listened to every painful inhalation the young elf wheezed in between groans.
The pain encased him and he could barely think. He knew his friends were there, taking care of him. He wanted to apologize to them for he wished he could spare them this sight. It hurt far more to know they were watching since he could do nothing to hide his agony as the poison raced to finish its job.
And it burned.
Legolas cried out and clenched Estel's hand.
After the wave of pain decreased, he could feel the calloused fingers run over his forehead and through his hair.
"Forgive me," Legolas haltingly said in a barely audible whisper. "I… can no longer… hold on." He stared deeply into Estel's stormy eyes, seeing the tears already forming. He knew how much pain this would cause.
He tried to hold back a shout of agony but the pain continued to ride him and he could barely control his weakened body as it shook.
Estel closed his eyes tightly, willing this all away. He had never seen an elf—let alone Legolas—in so much pain. It tore him in two.
Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a tearful glance and each reached out to touch the young elf that meant so much to them.
Estel reopened his eyes when he felt the others move. He looked at each of them in turn and then at Legolas' pain-wracked body, and nodded.
"You can let go, mellon-nin," he managed to say soothingly. He forced himself to stay steady and to not start crying yet, for Legolas needed him.
Legolas smiled slightly and closed his eyes after a weak squeeze of Estel's hand.
Estel raised the slender hand to his lips and kissed it gently, tears falling on to the limp hand.
