Elrond sat in his study and stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. He was still not really sure if it was a good idea to write to the king of Mirkwood and inform him about the condition of his son.
Once again, the lord's thoughts drifted to the young elf. He had done everything in his power to help the archer, but no one could tell if it was enough. The prince was badly injured and he was in danger of fading. His light was getting weaker and if it didn't get better soon, it would go out completely.
At this thought, the healer shook his head and got up to go to the window. Warm wind blew and passed through the branches of the big trees. The sound of the wind and the rustling leaves calmed Elrond a little.
He would be incredibly sorry if the prince died now. He was far too young for that, still had so much ahead of him. And now he was going to die at the hands of horrible and cruel men. Much like Estel, the Lord of Rivendell did not understand the motives for such a terrible thing.
But Estel's anger, pain and incomprehension ran much deeper. The human had just watched his best friend and brother die, which also burdened and darkened his soul. The healer knew that his foster son would never get over the loss of Legolas.
The dark-haired elf sighed. There was still hope. All was not yet lost.
Three days had passed since their arrival in Rivendell, and although his father did everything he could to help and heal Legolas, there was no sign of life from him.
As the days before, Aragorn woke up at the bedside of his friend. By now he was not simply exhausted, no, he felt completely exhausted. His whole body cried out for rest and sleep, but his thoughts and the fear in his heart kept him from it.
With an agonized sigh, the ranger looked into the lifeless, pale face. It hurt beyond belief. Why Legolas? Why did it have to hit the archer, of all people? Why did they do such a thing to him? Questions to which the man had no answers.
Gently he squeezed his friend's hand, but of course no reaction came back. The bright blue eyes remained closed and no sound passed the prince's lips. The fever was slowly going down, but to everyone's concern, not as fast as it should. The wounds healed slowly, but still the pale skin of the blond elf looked terrible.
Whether his father had written to Thranduil to inform him of his son's condition, the ranger did not know. He had intended to do so, but the Lord of Rivendell was not someone who liked to spread panic quickly.
Gently and carefully, the human stroked the archer's cheek. It broke his heart that his friend did not show the slightest sign of awakening.
In the next moment, the door opened and Elrond entered the room. His gaze rested on Legolas for a moment before looking at his foster son, who of course knew what was coming. "Estel, you should rest urgently. You look terrible."
Aragorn rolled his eyes. He didn't need his father to tell him that, but there was no way he was leaving here. The prince needed him now, and the human couldn't bring himself to leave him alone.
"No, Ada. I'm staying with him!" To his surprise, Elrond said nothing more in response and walked over to the herb table. The ranger's eyebrows furrowed suspiciously. What was going on here?
In the next moment, the healer appeared next to him with a cup, and the Ranger was about to reach out to sit his friend up, but his father held him back. "No, Estel. It's for you. To help you get your strength back."
Under normal circumstances, the man would never have just drunk the medicine without first checking what it was, but his tired mind would not allow a clear thought. So he drank the cup completely until suddenly an overwhelming weariness seized him.
Shocked, the heir to the throne wrenched his eyes open as he realized what his father had done. Elrond gave him an apologetic look, but Aragorn had already fallen asleep.