Legolas
Legolas woke to find Estel's head on his chest, and his own hands twined in the man's hair. Despite everything, he smiled. He'd resisted, but his father had been right to send him to Imladris. All too soon, the memories came back, and the pain along with them.
As though sensing something amiss, Estel jerked awake. Their eyes met, Estel checked the prince's arms, smiling when he found no new cuts on them. The old ones had all been stitched and bandaged, no doubt when he was asleep. "How are you feeling?" Estel asked.
Legolas didn't know how to answer that question, so he asked one. "Your eyes look red. You've been crying. How are you feeling?"
"Better than you, I'd wager. But if you don't want to talk about it right now, you don't have to."
Legolas sighed in relief, but his relief was short-lived.
"There is something else I need you to promise me, though. If it all feels like too much, you need to promise you'll come and talk to me before hurting yourself."
Legolas knew better than to make such a promise. "And if after talking to you I still feel the same? Will you let me and my blade go to do what needs to be done?"
"No, of course not. I'd never let you hurt yourself."
"Then you see why I can't make that promise, mellon nin."
Estel's jaw took on a stubborn set. "Then I'm not leaving your side until you're better."
That was going to be a problem. Legolas didn't know how he'd survive the encroaching darkness without any form of release.
It seemed Estel could read his mind, however, because his next words addressed his exact thoughts. "We'll find other ways to make you feel better, ok? I'll talk to Ada. Just don't hurt yourself. I'd sooner you slashed at my arms than yours."
Legolas flinched. "I'd never hurt you."
"So you think my heart is more resilient than my arms? It hurts me worse than any physical wound, watching you in pain."
Legolas hated to be reminded of how he was hurting his friend. Could he do nothing right? It would have been so much easier if he had been allowed to die. The thought went round and round in his head and it wouldn't stop.
He was vaguely aware of Estel shaking him. "Legolas! Hey, come on, breathe slowly. That's right, nice and slow."
Legolas hadn't even been aware that he was gasping for air. Estel's voice was calm and slow, and it steadied him. He did his best to match his breaths to the man's, until his heart finally stopped racing.
He tried to hold the words back, but they burst past his lips. "I want to die, Estel. I want it so badly."
Estel pulled him into a tight hug. "I know, mellon nin." His hands rubbed soothing circles in the elf's back. He didn't say anything else, just held him, and Legolas drew strength from that.
Finally, Estel pulled back, glancing at the sky. "It's nearly noon. Ada will be bringing lunch in soon, but we have time to go and sit in the tree for a bit, if you'd like."
Legolas flinched. In truth, he hadn't been able to eat since Haldir's death, but telling Estel that was a bad idea. He'd have to find some way to get out of it. "Yes, maybe being in the trees would help."
"Can you walk? Ada stitched up your arms, but you still lost a lot of blood."
"I can walk. Elvish endurance, remember? We are not weak like you mere mortals."
Estel rolled his eyes, but let it pass.
Legolas only just gotten up when a wave of dizziness hit him. He felt himself falling and reached out for something to grab on. He managed to snag the bed cover, but it simply fell with him. He would have hit the floor had Estel not caught him.
"Legolas! What's wrong? Ada said you would be fine with some rest!"
Legolas felt himself being put back on the bed and waited patiently for the world to stop spinning. "I'm fine," he muttered.
"Not yet," said a firm voice. Elrond entered, carrying a tray. "You've lost a lot of blood and you need to regain your strength."
Panic seized him as Legolas tried to think. He'd refused food up until now on the excuse that he felt sick, but that wasn't going to fly with Elrond any longer, not after he'd just collapsed.
"Thank you, hir nin." He pushed himself up into a seated position and took the tray gracefully, praying the elf lord would leave.
Instead, Elrond sat down in a chair next to the bed and levelled a stern gaze at the tray.
Legolas reluctantly picked up a fluffy roll and raised it to his mouth. Images of Haldir's dead body flashed before his eyes. How could he eat, when his friend's body was currently being consumed by worms?
"Legolas." Elrond raised The Eyebrow in warning when he saw the roll was placed back on the tray.
"I'm not hungry right now." It was the truth. He hadn't been hungry since Haldir's death.
"Too bad." Estel snatched up the roll. "Do you want to eat, or do you need me to feed you?"
Oh Valar. He'd had this argument with Estel before, when he'd been injured and too sick to eat, or at least he'd thought. The man could be bullheaded when he wanted to, and he wasn't above forcing Legolas to eat if he thought it was required for his health.
"I can do it myself," Legolas snapped, taking the roll and breaking off a small piece. He lifted it to his mouth, but he couldn't quite get it past his lips. He only realized he was shaking when the piece of roll dropped down into his lap.
Estel was there at once, abandoning the bedside chair and slipping into bed next to Legolas, his warmth and weight comforting. "What is it, mellon nin? Speak to me."
Elrond had tactfully walked to the other end of the hall, and Legolas tucked his head against Estel's chest to avoid looking at him as he spoke. "I can't eat. Not when he can't. Just the thought makes me sick. I've tried, Estel, I swear I have, but I can't, not since he died."
"WHAT? You're telling me you haven't eaten since then? Mellon nin, that was three weeks ago! How are you still on your feet?"
"I'm not," Legolas pointed out, gesturing to the bed.
"Right, that's it, you are eating this roll and you are eating it right now. I'll not have you collapsing from starvation."
Estel gave him a menacing glare and pushed the bread close to the prince's face. "Open up."
The air was suddenly thin as Legolas tried to twist away. He brought a hand to his throat, which felt like it was closing up.
Elrond was suddenly there, pulling Estel away. "Perhaps this is not the best way to deal with this, ion nin. Legolas, listen to me. You need to breathe slowly, remember? Estel, take that food away."
The tray disappeared, and Legolas slowly regained control of his breathing. Elrond's soft, concerned eyes peered into his. "Legolas, listen to me," he said gently. "I can't let you starve to death. You're going to have to eat something, even if it's just a little. I'll have a broth made for you, alright? Something nice and thin. It'll be easy to get down."
The thought made him want to retch, but Legolas knew it was the best deal he was going to get. "I won't keep it down," he warned.
"I will give you some herbs for nausea before you eat. You'll be fine."
Legolas seriously doubted that, but he nodded anyway. Estel came back, his mouth set in an unhappy line, but he forced a smile when he looked at the prince.
"Once you've eaten, and I'm sure you won't collapse, I'll take you outside," he bargained. "I'll bring Elladan and Elohir, and you can watch the three of us race up the trees."
Legolas rolled his eyes. Ever since he'd known Estel, the man had aspired to climbing faster than an elf. He was remarkably good for a human, and he even sometimes managed it, but those times invariably led to him falling in his haste.
Elrond muttered something about his sons giving him gray hairs as he passed. Legolas felt a smile tugging at his lips.
A few minutes later, Elrond returned with the broth. The sight of it turned Legolas' stomach, but one look at Estel told him that there was no way to avoid it. Perhaps they would take pity on him when the broth was splattered all over the floor.
"Here, drink this first." Elrond handed him a cup of tea that presumably had herbs for nausea in it. Legolas downed it quickly, regretting his haste at once, because he had nothing but the broth before him.
He took the spoon and raised it to his lips, but found that his hand was shaking too badly to keep hold. The spoon dropped to his lap.
"Here." Estel gently wiped the mess up and scooped another spoon. "Open up."
"Please, Estel."
"No, Legolas. You are going to eat."
Squeezing his eyes shut, Legolas allowed the human to feed him the spoon of broth. He swallowed and immediately started choking as his stomach roiled. Images of Haldir's dead eyes had bile rising in his throat.
Elrond's hands were suddenly on him, one on his chest and the other on his back. The elf lord was murmuring words Legolas couldn't make out. To his amazement, after a few moments, his nausea faded, and his stomach stopped protesting.
"It is not a physical symptom, but something brought on by your own mind, probably from misplaced guilt." Elrond gave him a kind smile that didn't completely hide his worry. "For now, I will help you eat, until you are able to manage it on your own."
Legolas slumped back in defeat, wishing that he had been allowed to die when he'd had the chance.
