Chapter 7

Legolas smiled at Aragorn as he slept. The elf had already eaten a bit of stale bread and fresh deer meat while he waited for the man to wake up. It was late in the morning, but he felt no need to wake his friend. Legolas had taken no rest that night, instead gingerly lifting the man and carrying him to the path that would lead them more safely to his home. Aragorn had not stirred, but mumbled incessantly in Legolas' arms, smiling in dreams and thrashing into nightmares. So close to waking now, Aragorn lay still.

"Estel!" He whispered. The man blinked his eyes open and smiled when the first thing he saw was the deep blue eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas could do nothing but smile back.

"Good morning," Aragorn mumbled sleepily, eyes still locked on Legolas.

"Take your time, Estel. I managed to carry you all the way to the path last night. We should be much safer using the ancient way of my people."

Estel looked around and attempted to sit up. "How did you carry me without waking me?"

"You lost a lot of blood and your body was trying to recover. Your sleep was probably much deeper than you are used to." Upon sitting, Aragorn grasped his head and lay back down quickly. "Take it slow, mellonin, you are injured", Legolas said, helping the man to lie back down.

Aragorn immediately did as he was told, and allowed Legolas to do all the work of packing up the camp while he rested. The pair took it easy, eating and getting ready slowly so that Aragorn could regain his bearings and energy. Even when they travelled they paced themselves according to Aragorn's comfort.

The companions no longer travelled in silence, instead making up for many lost days by having long conversations about themselves, their past travels, and the upcoming quest. Much laughter was heard by the now quiet trees of the dark forest. Legolas found it hard to control his emotions around Aragorn after many days of bitter silence followed by pain and worry. He became blind to all but the constant smile on his friend's face, and did not pay attention to anything but the road ahead and the husky voice of the man next to him. He was overjoyed that Aragorn was recovering so well and that the two were back to their normal banter. Being a man full of pride, Aragorn did not complain as they travelled, but as the shadows of the day grew longer, his face grew more pale and his breathing more shallow.

Legolas, however, continued to talk and sing as he helped Aragorn along the path. He never thought that Aragorn would push himself beyond his physical limit. Surely the man would stop if needed. They were a whole league ahead of schedule. He barely noticed as Aragorn slowly withdrew himself from conversation.

Suddenly from the trees above a bird call was heard. Legolas stopped and smiled up to where the call had come from. He cupped his hands over his mouth and called back. Another call was heard from the same general area, and Legolas again called back. He turned to Aragorn, beaming.

"Estel, the castle is—"but he couldn't finish. Aragorn's eyes were full of pain, and sheen of sweat graced his entire face. His skin was pale, and he swayed dangerously, stumbled forward, and collapsed. "Estel!" he caught the man before he hit the ground and placed him gently on the leaves. He unwrapped the bandages holding the man's leggings together and checked the wound on his leg. Blood was seeping through the bindings and running down his leg. Legolas cursed and called up in a desperate, high pitched tone to the trees. Two elf guards dropped from the trees and ran to Legolas' side. One was a she-elf. She was tall and lithe with long brown hair tied away from her face in twists and braids.

"How can we help, Lord Prince?"

"Go to the castle and tell the healer to make ready a bed for this man." She nodded. "Hurry! Go!" and she ran away swift as a summer's breeze, immediately disappearing behind the gnarled trunks of the ancient trees.

"Estel! Aragorn! If you can hear me, I shall carry you to the castle. We are only a short distance away. Estel, please hang on… Don't go anywhere. Stay with us. Stay with me, please… please, melamin."

The second elf guard, a male with a muscular build and dark blonde hair, stood behind Legolas in silence. "My lord?" He asked hesitantly.

"Go back to your post," Legolas replied, lifting Aragorn onto his back as if the man were no heavier than a Halfling. He sprinted off in the direction of the castle of Mirkwood. Minutes seems to pass like hours as step by step Legolas hoped to see the castle through the next tree, the next…the next…

Finally after fifteen minutes of running at a pace that only a skilled warrior could manage, the stony castle appeared through the thick, tangled branches of the trees.

"Look, Estel! We are almost there…hold on, please…" he said, more to comfort himself than the unconscious man on his back.

No guards stopped him as he entered the gates and rushed to the already open thick oak doors of the castle. It was clear that they had been warned what had happened and were waiting patiently to give aid in any way they could. Instead Legolas was greeted immediately indoors by the healer, who led him swiftly to a room near Legolas' own chambers, and directed the prince to lay the man on the bed. Legolas did so with care.

He was unable to censor his feelings in such a worried state, and carefully brushed a hand over that wrinkled forehead, through the dark hair saturated with sweat and blood, down the rough cheeks. The touch was not in the passionate situation that the elf had imagined, but instead a desperate action under the veil of paralyzing fear such as Legolas had never felt before. Somewhere deep inside he realized that he was in too deep. His fate was now tied to this Dunedain ranger's, this rugged but caring man whom he had come to love so much.

"Prince Legolas, go clean yourself up and I will call you when I am finished," the healer said gently.

"But I—"

"I know that Estel is your dearest friend, but I must work alone for a time. Go and clean yourself up, change into something comfortable, take some food and rest. I will find you when I have done what I need to do."

Legolas nodded and tore his hand and eyes away from the man's pained expression. All of his thought was bent on Estel. All of his thought was bent on the fact that he hadn't gotten to tell his friend that he loved him. Legolas had never in his long life been afraid of anything, but he had not been able to say those few simple words, and how he was faced with the reality that he may never have the chance to say them. He knew that all he could do was wait and hope that his Estel would come back to him.


A/N: I know you are all as frustrated as dear Legolas. Keep reading, and it will be worth it. There are about four or five chapters left, and there is a bit more angst, of course... but the end... well you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?

I also have a sequel planned, but I don't know how long it will take to write it and I usually like to have a few chapters done before I start posting. I'll see if everyone likes this story enough to be interested in a sequel.

Keep reviewing!!