Authors Note: Thank you again and again for your reviews. Wow, over 200 reviews so far I never ever thought that I would get so many when I first started writing this fic over three months ago! Thank again for your support in writing this and I hope you enjoy the few more chapters that there are to go to the end!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

By the time Estel and Lysander reached the healing rooms, Healer Phelan had already cleared a small area at the far end of the rooms and had begun his examination of the tiny infant.

Estel felt Lysander's grip on his arm lessen and then disappear, glancing up as the dark elf moved towards the healer in order to help, leaving Estel standing alone in the entrance way watching from a distance.

He was suddenly forced to move as he was roughly pushed out of the way by another of the healers rushing back into the room in search of clean sheets and muttering angrily under his breath.

Murmuring back an apology Estel started slowly moving to where Lysander had come to stand opposite the healer. Between the two was a makeshift, but clean, bed and upon it lay the child. As he moved closer its features became clearer to him, the tiny pointed tip to one of its seemingly fragile ears was the first thing to catch his attention. He admired the tiny miracle yet was nervous to touch he seemed so breakable, Estel had no desire to hurt his lovers creation.

"How is he?" Estel managed to ask, his voice clearly unsteady but neither Lysander nor the healer made any remark on it.

"I am not sure." Phelan said carefully using a small, clean blade to tidy the remains of the cord of which Elrond had hurriedly cut in order to disconnect the child from its father. "He seems healthy enough considering the ordeal he has just been put through but..." The healer trailed off.

"But what?" Estel demanded.

"But he is exhausted, this whole situation has put as much strain on him as it has on the prince. I have examined him thoroughly and there is nothing more I can do at the moment." Phelan sighed heavily. "I will..."

"Healer!" A young she-elf rushed up to them.

"What is it Pyrena, can you not see I am in the middle of something?" He growled the irritation he felt obvious in his tone.

"I am sorry to interrupt but you are needed immediately Lord Elladan has requested your presence, there has been an incident outside the main hall!"

Lysander glanced up suddenly worried, Arwen was supposed to be sheltering in the main hall.

Phelan nodded and made to follow her but was abruptly halted by Estel's hand upon his wrist.

"Where are you going?" The man scowled.

"You heard, I am needed else where, now let me go!" Phelan was in no mood for this confrontation it had been one tiring day and it showed no signs of calming down anytime soon.

"But you have not finished here!" Estel growled pointing down towards where his son quietly lay.

"As I have said there nothing I can do now," He pulled his wrist roughly from Estel's grasp. "You can clean him up carefully and keep him warm until I return if there are any changes there are many other healers around than will help him." Softening his tone Phelan placed a comforting hand on the young mans shoulder. "He will get through this and grow to be as strong and healthy as both his parents," Phelan gently squeezed his shoulder. "You can not expect him to be as any other babe after what he has just been put through. Just give him a chance to recover slowly."

Phelan then turned and headed quickly out of the room after the she-elf.

"I will fetch something to clean him with." Lysander said before also turning and heading away from him.

Estel watched for a moment as Lysander made his way about the room stopping to ask where certain things were kept before he turned back to regard his newly born son.

He moved closer until his body rested against the side of the bed and slowly reached out his hand, letting his fingers gently graze over the soft silk of his forehead, brushing lightly at the places where his elven father's blood had dried upon the pale skin trying to dislodge that that marred the elven beauty of his child.

The infant appeared to be sleeping his breathing was slow but reassuringly deeper than it had been a short while before. He was still wrapped tightly with in the white sheet, only his head was visible a soft spattering of fair hair covering just the crown of his head.

"Here." Lysander's voice, soft in tone brought him back from his thoughts. The dark elf handed him a small basin of water and a small square piece of a plain beige coloured fabric.

"Thank you." Estel murmured in response, taking both items and placing them both down gently beside the child on the bed.

"I am going to check on Arwen." He heard Lysander say his voice almost inaudible. "She should have been in the main hall I want to be sure that she is safe."

Estel nodded, he too was worried about his sister's welfare but with all that had happened today she came a sorry third on his list of concerns, his lover and child at the forefront of his thoughts.

After slowly dipping the cloth into the luke-warm water he rung it out carefully.

He held the now damp fabric in one hand while the other he used to gently push away the infants coverings to provide easier access to the soiled skin.

He began to delicately wash away the filth that clung to the small half, elf-lings body and with each tender pass of the cloth he revealed more and more of the soft pale skin so like his lovers.

His thoughts immediately flew back to Legolas and the bloody image of his lover lying unbearably still and silent. He would give anything to know that his lover was safe and well, that between them Lord Elrond and Elrohir had managed to save him.

~*~

"Has it worked?" Elrohir asked, he was on the verge of utter despair, so far he had watched as his father had attempted to halt the bleeding three times, his hope lifting for just a moment only to be dashed seconds later each time as more blood flowed freely.

Elrohir did not think he could cope with the loss of his long-term friend and had no hope of being able to explain to his young foster brother that he would have to bring up his son alone.

Elrohir glanced up as his father sighed loudly clearly frustrated.

He watched as Elrond slowly released the pressure he was placing upon the wound. Bandages and cloth had been wrapped tightly around Elrond's attempts at mending the large incision he himself had made.

Both Elves unknowingly held their breath waiting to see whether this time it would hold. Both knew, although neither said it out loud, that there would be little point in repeating this if it did not hold. There was only so much blood an elf could afford to loose and Legolas was nearing that point at a concerning rate.

"I think." Elrond spoke slowly, looking up at his son. "That it is holding."

He pulled his hand away completely and watched, almost waiting for the time when the scarlet liquid would once again cascade down from the pale body between them and pool on the cold stone floor beneath them.

But the time did not come and slowly both allowed a small volume of hope to form in their hearts.

"He is too strong to die like this ada." Elrohir whispered although Elrond clearly heard him.

"We shall see." Elrond said slowly. "He is not through it all yet."

~*~

TBC...