Aargh! Sorry everyone, I'm being a total shit at posting so erratically right now, the next chapter will be as soon after the 27th as I possibly can write it. Exams and coursework (And Championship Manager) have taken up all my time, so once again I'm sorry. In fact, I'm so tired, it's not even worth me writing anything here, so on with story. I haven't actually proof read this either…

Chapter Nineteen: A Knight's Tale  

The new day sparkled through the valley merrily, a warm golden glow filtering into the muted bedchamber, making the candlesticks sparkle like stars on a clear summers night. Slowly, the dawn crept further in, leaving the sleeping elf basking in a soft radiance, lighting up his once flawless features that were now, albeit temporarily, tarnished with fading bruises and healing scratches. His long blond mane matched the gentle hue of the brightening sky, the sun now straining to penetrate his slumber but could not. Legolas would not wake for a while, the weariness of his ordeal overcoming him finally, his body at last managing to let the elf be selfish, to accept that he must think of himself for the first time in what seemed a never ending nightmare.

The sun was an orangey gold, but still let off that eerie cold iridescent glow that autumn and winter always brought. There was mist at the lowest points of the dell, looming over streams lazily, refusing to lift. A peculiar silence had taken over Rivendell of late, gloomy, subdued, but the trees were full of sweet song once more, and yet they were not the uplifting verses that greeted them the night before, the words were tentative, nervous even. Lord Elrond was the only one other than the abducted pair that knew of true horror of what had befallen them, but elves are perceptive creatures and could tell that there was no room for over-the-top celebrations. Everyone just wanted to go back to normal, how life had been before; smiles, innocent teasing and elaborate pranks that made everyone feel like elflings again.

The hours passed and he remained lying in his comforting bed, the first time he had felt safe for a while. The sheets hung over his slender body soothingly, and his head was burrowed into the feather filled pillow, his hair straying over his face in golden wisps, guarding his senses from the intrusive morning light. Eventually he awoke reluctantly from his trance, his eyes fluttering irritably in the unwelcome sunshine. He didn't want to leave this bed, the consoling peace of his slumber beckoning him to return, and in his heart, there was nothing at that moment he wanted more, but he knew he couldn't. He had a duty to his friend, and to Lord Elrond, to help Estel in any way he could. How could everything change in such a short time?

Climbing out bed reluctantly, Legolas washed. Streams of brown water flowed from his filthy hair and he couldn't help but smile; elves did not suit being dirty, especially this elf. His new clothes lay on the back of the chair beside his bed and his mood lightened further. Clothes that fit him, that felt soft against his skin, the colours of winter, he mused. It wasn't that late yet, but it felt like it. The velvet tunic glistened, the ivory material embroidered delicately with silver leaves and fit his bandaged torso perfectly and he opened the door calmly, the sound of the latch echoing down the quiet corridor.     

He made his way down the stairs at his own pace, deep in thought. It was a relief not to have to be wary and alert to every sound, to just be comfortable again. Legolas was exhausted, physically and emotionally, his shoulders uncomfortably hunched; too long in the company of a graceless human he had joked, but that wasn't it. It was an invisible weight on him, his heart was heavy, his whole body felt heavier now. The elf traced his fingers along the walls lightly, familiarising himself with the halls once more. His feet were bare, the cool stone soothing his still aching feet. Shoes felt unnecessary and inappropriate now, he was just enjoying the softness of the rugs, the smooth floors; it was good to be back.

The fair prince paused; he could hear the sound of laughter. It felt like an age since it had last graced his ears. It was Gandalf's deep guffaw and Elrohir's melodic giggling.

"You cheated!" He heard someone exclaim, and Legolas grinned. "Where is my pawn, you crafty old conjurer?"

It was Estel.

Quickening his steps, Legolas appeared in the doorway of the hall. There he was, smiling and laughing at the table with the wizard, the crackling fire lighting their faces in an inviting glow. Elrohir stood behind Gandalf, leaning against the high backed leather armchair the Istari sat in, his ebony locks draped happily over his shoulders, he too, was grinning, and greeted the Mirkwood elf cheerfully.

"There is breakfast waiting for you in the dining room, my friend." The elf informed him. "We have all been treated to quite a feast."

"Treated?" Estel snorted from under the table, where he was looking for his missing pawn. "It was treat until the forth plate, I think my stomach is ready to split."

"You need feeding up, little one, you are stick thin." Gandalf remarked, pulling the carved chess piece from his beard and placing it back in its rightful place on the chequered board, picking up a knight and hiding that instead.

"I am not!"

Legolas smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to say or make of the scene before his eyes. Estel emerged from the floor and their eyes met momentarily, the human quickly looking away and returning his attention back to the tampered match.

Looking up at the wizard with a withering glare, he narrowed his eyes. "You would think being immortal, you would spend your time doing useful things rather than cheating a child of victory in a friendly games of chess."

Taking his leave, the fair elf exited swiftly, his head spinning. He didn't know what to expect on their return, but it wasn't this. He longed to see the tortured human laughing again but not like this. It didn't feel right. Or real. Not through a desperate act, hiding his pain from those he loved.

Finally, he escaped from his third serving of breakfast; unsure of whether he could ever eat another meal again. Legolas walked slowly through the house of Elrond, nursing a full stomach and his aching ribs, until he reached the courtyard. The clouds had drawn in a little, swathing the trees in a hazy sunshine, a slight wind skipping over the buildings, and a lone figure sat on the steps, arms resting on his knees. He approached Estel silently and stood behind him wordlessly.

"If you are going to stand over me, at least say something." Estel eventually said quietly.

"I cannot find any words to speak."

"You want to know what happened this morning." He said simply. "If that is what you wish to know, then just ask and be done with it."

Legolas fell silent, and after what seemed like hours, he sat down beside the grim faced boy. "If I honestly believed you were happy again, then I would not press this, but your discomfort at my presence told me that was not the case. Why do you hide behind a cheerful mask when you do not need to?"

The young being said nothing at first, tapping his fingers on his knees. The elf watched him intently, his eyes trailing over his features; the red rimmed eyes, puffy and tired, sore, sliced cheeks and bruised jaw. Estel suddenly turned to him; his silver eyes were wide and tinged with anger, but little else.

"My brothers and Gandalf are the only ones who remind me of who I was. I don't care if it's not real, I'd rather pretend to be normal and happy than have everyone know my shame." He growled. "Why did you tell him? You said you'd wait until I was ready."

"I didn't tell him; the morning after you cut your wrist, he asked me what happened. He already knew." Legolas replied defensively. "Remember that night, Estel? Remember how you took care of me, treated my wounds, made me food, then drugged me so you could kill yourself?" Anger boiled in his veins suddenly.

"I didn't drug you so I could do that. I did it because you needed rest, you would never have slept with the pain of your ribs." He explained, looking to the ground. "I did it so that I could treat my own wounds in private, injuries that I didn't want you to see."

The elf gazed sadly at the dark haired boy, watching his lip quiver.

"Legolas!" Someone cried from inside and he turned around to see who it was.

"Would you like to speak somewhere more private, Estel?" He asked quietly, but was only met with silence.

Shifting his gaze back, he realised Estel was gone. Sighing, he looked around, but there was no sign of him and Gandalf joined his side.

"Lord Elrond is looking for you." He explained quietly. "He's in his study."

The week following was strained and slow in passing, it was unusually mild though a chill still lingered after dusk. The leaves slowly began to shed their leaves as October drew closer, and the whole of Rivendell was left in the golden blanket of autumn. Legolas had barely seen Estel since the night they had returned, they shared meals together, but never had the chance to talk privately. The fair elf often spent his time with Lord Elrond now, discussing what to do with Raenir, but they could never come to a clear decision. This day was no different, and the pair sat amongst the dusty books quietly, steaming cups of tea and untouched plates of food resting on old parchments. 

"I have not seen Estel today." Legolas remarked.

"Nor I, one of the maids said he was up at the crack of dawn and spent the morning on the archery field alone." The other elf explained, his voice tinged with a sad confusion. "I have seen little of him this past week."

"I am not the only one he is avoiding then."

"It seems not. I want so desperately to speak with him, but I cannot think of any words so I let him disappear…" He tailed off and an awkward silence fell between them. "I had word from Glorfindel this morning; he says he will send news on these characters as soon as he knows anything, but he has not heard of any of them except for Donvan. Mithrandir thinks it best he join Glorfindel in Gondor, so he rides south at dawn, I think he feels of little use here." The raven-haired elf spoke eventually, passing the letter to him.

His eyes trailed over the words for a moment. "A lucky escape." Legolas mused over the words bitterly.

"It was."

"It doesn't feel like that." He snorted. "Has Raenir said anything, or has he kept up his infuriating silence these past days?"

Elrond looked up, his face darkening. "He has become decidedly talkative of late." He began, taking a long sip. "The things he says about my son…" He trailed off and the younger elf could see the anger in his eyes. "Despicable, lecherous claims about Estel's character, he shows no remorse or fear."

"He enjoys causing pain too much, he can see how much it hurts you so he carries on despite his imprisonment. But above all, Raenir knows he's failed his mission, he knows Estel is still alive and so is going to try and torment him further by spreading vicious lies."

There was a gentle knock on the door and a servant appeared, they traded a couple of words and he exited promptly.

"A party from Gondor have just arrived at the borders, one of their company is unwell." He said irritably. "This is an unwelcome distraction indeed."

Estel sat alone on the same stone bench he always sat on, book resting on his lap as the cool breeze fluttered around the winter flowers, the late afternoon sun creeping through the trees. He wore a grey tunic and trousers that matched his eyes and soft suede boots, his dark locks plaited neater than he had ever allowed before, the bruises on his face had thankfully faded but the cuts remained a scrambled mess, especially his gashed cheek that didn't seem to be healing at all. He could hide the other injuries, move on, but these remained, reminding everyone, making them stare at him with nauseating pity.

Returning to his book, his fingers trailed across the slightly yellowing paper and he drifted away in the words once more. A few minutes passed and the sudden sound of voices drawing closer caught his attention, his eyes darting around for signs of movement. There were voices he recognised and some that he didn't, growing louder until he could hear what they were saying, and they suddenly emerged through the trees, a dozen or so men and women. One woman sat on a horse with which Estel presumed to be her husband, she was heavily pregnant, her skin pale and sickly, his face frowning and concerned. She was ill, but by the mood of the rest of the party, the young boy sensed it was not too serious. He smiled and nodded in greeting to the elves that accompanied the company, and he approached them, his eyes trailing over the others.

Estel halted in his tracks, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

It was Carinyc. His hands shook violently, the book in hand falling to the ground.

The dark haired man caught glimpse of Estel and smiled warmly. "My eyes almost deceived me, this young fellow could be mistaken for one of the firstborn." He laughed.

Lómarandil, a loyal guard of Rivendell couldn't help but let out a gentle smirk. "Many have made the same observation. This is Lord Estel, foster son of Lord Elrond."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." He spoke a little uncomfortably seeing the terrified expression on the young human's face. "My, my, you have been in the wars, haven't you?"

Estel said nothing, too shocked, too afraid. His heart thumped, why wasn't he running? Why couldn't he move?

Legolas strode down the path with the raven-haired elven lord quietly until the party came into view. He paused, taking a second glance at one of the men. For a moment, he could have sworn it was Carinyc. The dark features were similar, but he was too old, and his momentary alarm disappeared. They welcomed the company politely, and Legolas placed a hand on the boy's shoulder in a gentle greeting. Estel jumped, startling the fair elf.

"What is wrong, little one? You're white as a sheet." He murmured as Elrond led the men and women away.

The wide-eyed human stared at him, his mouth parted as if he were trying to find the words. He backed away, his boots scraping on the stone path.

"I'm losing my mind, Legolas." He spoke, his voice almost a whisper. "Every time I think I'm moving on, that it's finally over, it comes back. I would have told everyone that he was the man who hurt us, if I could have got the words out, an innocent man would have joined Raenir in the cells."

"I know how hard it must be, but you are not losing your mind, Estel. You're strong-"

"Strong?" He snorted. "You know nothing of me, if I was so strong, then why couldn't I stop him? I can kill a dozen goblins without blinking, but I can't fend off one man."

"Est-"

"You don't understand, you never will, so stop trying to! I haven't slept since I slit my wrist."

"Estel, you slept for days-"

"I'm a good actor." He said dryly. "I lay in my bed every night, staring at the ceiling, too afraid to shut my eyes. He's dead, Legolas, but he's still in my head, still in the dreams that I refuse to have. Raenir makes sure he's in your mind too. You're not repulsed by every friendly hug or touch your family gives you. You don't lie to your brother so that he still loves you and looks at you the same way as he used to." Estel growled angrily, tears threatening to run down his cheeks. "You don't hate yourself. You don't stand in front of the mirror every day but can't bear to look at the sickening reflection."

Legolas looked at his young friend, his heart breaking, his own tears welling in his blue eyes.

Estel's shaky voice muted. "Your first kiss was not with a man who was about to rape you. You didn't have someone touching every inch of your flesh, groping so hard it bruised. You didn't have a man whisper every sick fantasy in your ear, telling you his exact intentions. You don't still smell him on you. You didn't kill a man when you were eleven years old because you were so afraid of what he was about to do. You don't hate every second you're alive with this memory refusing to fade. So don't pretend you understand, because you can't."

A silence fell between them, and the elf stood motionless, his head reeling and stomach knotted tightly. Looking down at his trembling hands, a tear trickled down Legolas' nose, hitting the ground with a slight tap. He was shaken by Estel's outburst, helpless and angry that he couldn't fix this. Glancing back up, he realised the young boy was long gone, looking around; he suddenly noticed that it was dusk. He must have been standing there for over an hour, wrapped in his painful thoughts. The sound of hooves drawing closer caught the elf's attention and Elladan burst into view, his face grim, acknowledging his friend with a simple nod.

"It is good to see you again, Elladan, we did not expect your return so soon." Legolas spoke gently, clasping the horse's reins.

"It was not my intention to, but I received some very disturbing that brought my swift return."

Tbc…

Okay, your review replies should be here, but it was going to take me so long to get through them, I thought it was best to just post today with a broad thanks, rather than any later with all your replies. Your reviews are always wonderful to receive and really make my day, so I promise I'll reply properly next chapter!

I love you all! (Sorry, I'm just a little emotional at finally getting round to posting this chapter)