"I could be good/And I would/If I knew I was understood" --The Barenaked Ladies, Too Little Too Late

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: Estel's dream is taken from 'Every Move You Make', the prequal to this story.

*****

"Why did you stay with me?" asked Estel, shuffling through the papers atop the desk before moving on to one of the drawers. Perhaps it was because he was so afraid to be caught that he talked, trying to calm his nerves, and perhaps it was simply because he had to know. Perhaps he knew what was ahead. But only perhaps.

"I feel so terrible about how we treated you before," Lysander replied. "You are so amazing, Estel. You have such a concept of honour. . .morals. When the others would hurt you I stayed back, too concerned for their opinions of me. I was weak. This is what I do in apology: I stay by you."

Estel could think of nothing to say. He had searched nearly the entire desk, all the drawers, too, by the time his throat unstuck. "You do not have to," he said.

"Yes I do," replied Lysander. He finished the cabinets and knelt to look beneath them, and just then--

"Now this is interesting."

Estel whirled. It was the King, that presumptuous, arrogant creature whom Estel had cast from his mind. So dishonourable, that he would be in the city while his subjects died upon the field. Estel said so.

The King chuckled. "Think before you act, boy. You are unarmed here while I have a sword--" indeed, he did "--and alone. If you value your life you will do as I say." At this Estel might have shriveled with fear, but his heart rose with hope. If Lysander had not been seen, he might be wise enough to run for help.

"What do you want from me?" Estel asked, feigning submission.

"Where are the others?" the King growled, and for the first time Estel saw that the King knew his people were defeated, and fought still. He would fight to the last Man: inevitably himself. And a part of Estel admired this, while he knew it for folly.

"All together where the guilty roam free while the innocent hang from the gallows," Estel replied over-sweetly. Angrily the King shot forward and slammed Estel against the desk. Lysander ran then, and was nearly at the door when the King whirled and drew his sword threateningly. Estel felt terrible, for he knew why the King had found Lysander: his own eyes had wandered.

"Do you think this wise, boy?" asked the King, as Lysander held up his fists. One hand held sword, while the other held down Estel, who began to scrabble for freedom, but stopped as the King laid pressure to his throat and cut of his air supply. Once Estel was still the King relaxed his grip, and Estel did not fight back.

"Let him go," Lysander said.

"You make demands of me, while you have no weapon?"

Lysander reached his hand to the wall and felt along it, seeking and finding the broom. "This is enough for me. Let him go and we will spare your life." The king laughed again, then took a step back, allowing Estel to his feet, drew out a knife and threw it into Lysander's wrist. As he did so Lysander threw the broom to Estel, but it slipped from his fingers. Now, unarmed, he faced the King, whose sword was drawn. . .

"Estel? Estel?"

Estel's eyes snapped open, and he gasped. "Lysander!" But there was no Lysander, no office and no papers, no keys to be had. Birds sang all around him in the trees, and the sound of wind on water brought a sense of calm to him. Estel realized that he was lying on the ground, springy and damp grass beneath him. Then it had all been a dream. . .or a memory. Legolas crouched beside Estel.

"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. He looked troubled, disheveled, blue eyes wide with worry, his hair thrown askew by an intense ride. The Elf gazed--or perhaps stared--at the mortal, as though willing him to be all right.

"What happened?" Estel's mind began to focus, and with a groan he rubbed his forehead. His head throbbed as his heart. How had he come to be there? He only remembered vaguely the horse. . .the horse!

"You fell off," Legolas replied, laughing slightly. "You were not ready for such a horse, now were you?"

Estel rolled his eyes. "No, Ada," he said, caustic more than comic. "You need not concern yourself with my safety." Glancing about, he found the warhorse grazing nearby, not far from Elladan's Rokko. "I said I would ride with you; I have done so. Good day!" Estel began to rise. The Elf's hand shot out, and he pressed the mortal boy flat against the ground.

"You still dream about Eregion, I see," Legolas observed. He knew well that Estel's harmful tone had been intentional, but knew also that Estel did not mean any personal offense. However, if he wanted to play at this game, so would Legolas.

"Let me go," Estel said narrowly.

"When he found you, Elladan says, you looked as though bewitched. Rage, this is called. Have you felt it since? Have you kept it bottled up inside?"

"Get off of me."

"You must miss him, to dream of him still. Yet I note, Estel, that he is no longer here and you remain. You did not leave with him for Mandos' Halls. Pretending you are gone will not make it so."

"Leave me be!"

"You might even think of your family. Your father and your brothers love you very much. It hurts them to see you slipping away and to be unable to help." A recitation; Legolas knew not what else to say. He groped for words and hoped he spoke rightly. "But, as I am told, because you are afraid of me--"

At this Estel tired of being the captive of Legolas, and he struggled, kicking and biting. Legolas moved to grab the boy's shoulders, but Estel wriggled away, throwing free the Elf's hand and scrambling to his feet. Knowing it was dishonourable and not caring, Estel placed his hands on Legolas's shoulders and threw the Elf back with a sound shove, then ran for the horses.

Legolas was quicker. Before Estel had covered five yards Legolas was there, wrestling him to the ground once again. The mortal fought, but his strength was insufficient: at last Legolas triumphed, pinning Estel to the ground. As a precaution, he rested his weight on his knee, which rest on Estel's chest. "Do you give up?" Legolas asked, willing to release the boy if he said yes.

"Never," Estel growled, and taking Legolas's knee in his hands sought to twist the limb away. This worked, but Estel was only on his feet a moment before Legolas grabbed him and held on tight. As Estel kicked and bit and struggled, Legolas lifted him and carried him toward the lake. Estel knew this trick, and struggled with more vigor but to the same end: none.

Almost pleased to do so, Legolas waded out until the water reached to his thighs, managing a fighting Estel all the while, and dropped the boy carelessly into the water. Estel closed his mouth too late, earning him a mouthful of muddy water. With all the speed he could muster he was at the surface, spitting and sputtering his mouth clear of mud. "I suppose you think yourself terribly clever for that little trick?" Estel demanded. For a moment he knelt, then added, "I suppose you think everything you do is clever just because you are an Elf, is this so?" Legolas acted without thought: he gave Estel a kicking shove and the boy fell again beneath the waters, this time catching a breath of air before the murky waters closed over his head. Legolas fished him out.

"I suppose you think everything I do is brutish, simply because I am an Elf," Legolas responded, offering his hand to Estel. At first the mortal only eyed the hand curiously, then gripped it tightly and pulled himself up. To the surprise of both, their eyes were only hardly four inches apart. The last time they met, Estel was hardly as high as Legolas's shoulder. "Let us go back to dry ground. There we might talk easier."

"I note you took your shoes off," Estel mentioned grudgingly as they trod toward the shore.

*****

Some time later, as Estel's tunic rested on a log in the sun where it might dry, the boys lay on their backs in the grass. Legolas chewed thoughtfully on an apple, and finally said, "What happened, Estel? To you."

Estel watched a cloud the shape of a dragon drift across the sky. "I could not do it anymore. Lysander. . .was gone. I saw Oswald, sometimes--Lysander's brother. He drifted for a time, but he is a child. At a time, he was my closest friend. How strange that it would be he who understood best what was happening to me, and he who listened and understood. We comforted each other, until he moved on and left me behind.

"There was more to it than only Lysander. Everything had changed; I had changed. The fact that I had. . .was responsible for someone's death plagued me. The horrors of it all haunted me. I did not want to see anyone anymore; they all either had been there and did not understand or had not been, and did not understand thusly. I felt as though I slipped from the flow of the world, as from a stream of moving bodies so easily left yet not so easily rejoined.

"Alone, it was easy enough to fade to grey. Nothing but shadow remained of me. Vaguely I was aware of the problem with my condition but had not the will to repair myself. Life was a play, and I mimed my part badly."

For a time Legolas said nothing as Estel blandly twisted strands of grass. He thought of his mother, how he had felt when she had left. The pain had not died. "Did you not care that your father and brothers worried about you?" he asked, the same question he had been asked so many years ago.

"If I pretended very strongly to be well," Estel said carefully, "they would believe me. I wanted for them to know the truth."

Fair, Legolas thought, in many ways. Elrond and the twins would not have gone unknowing for so long, and they would have been hurt that Estel thought he needed to hide his pain. Then, it had also hurt them to know and to see their attempts at helping Estel fail time and time again. Faced with such a quandary, the Elf changed the subject. "What about Elothar?" Legolas asked. "You two were nearly the same in age. Where is she now?"

"She is in Lothlorien, with Lady Galadriel, for which I am extremely grateful, to my own shame."

"You do not like her?" Legolas asked. After Estel had insisted on taking her from Eregion, when the others would have left her in the prison?

"When Elothar is in Imladris, Elladan is not. . .Elladan. He is not my brother. He no longer understands or tells jokes, but is an example. The fact that Elothar has more or less raised herself independently to adulthood does not stop Elladan from assuring that she becomes someone to be proud of. A noble pursuit, I know, but I am selfish. I want him to be my brother."

Legolas had nothing to say to this. Yes, Estel was being selfish, but only reasonably. "Hey," Legolas said at last, thinking he should say something, and rested a reassuring hand on Estel's shoulder. But he knew not what to say next. "That is all right to feel," he said.

"Well. . ." Estel met Legolas's eyes, saw that they were true, then looked at the ground. "Let's go home," he said at last. Many hours had passed, in addition to quite a few swims and lessons in hand-to-hand combat, and very few words save those spoken in recent moments. The air adopted a chill, a promising of nightfall. "Ada will worry."

Legolas nodded mutely. He understood. "Will he be angry with you, for riding the warhorse?"

"Angry?" Estel asked. "He never specifically forbade me. . ."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Good luck," he answered.

Reviewing his actions, Estel realized that in a matter of hours Legolas had so abused the boy's fears that he was no longer playing his part with dry nonchalance. Or had it simply been that this person waited only to be unlocked? That remained to be seen. As Legolas helped Estel up onto the warhorse, the younger wondered how he would act in the presence of his family. Both wondered.

*****

To be continued

MoroTheWolfGod: Or, if not now, certainly when Legolas brings him home! Oh, that kid!

Gwyn: There is no need to be rude about it. Anyway, if you're going to ask for an update, wouldn't it be more reasonable to read the entire story first?

Amlugwen: Thanks.