Author: Mirrordance

Title: Last Stand

Summary: The battle at the Black Gate leaves Legolas strange wounds that do not heal. He knows he is slowly dying & keeps it a secret, as he tours the fleeting mortal pleasures of the world before his last breath. He finds an unwilling coconspirator in Eomer

* * *

2: Finding Estel: A Memory I

* * *

Rivendell, 2938

* * *

      It was not altogether an unfamiliar malady, at least to Legolas, who's had it before. 

      Almost eight decades ago, weeks after the death of the Queen and a prince of Mirkwood from an orc-ambush, the King Thranduil was also faced with the possibility of losing his youngest son.

      An envoy of Mirkwood aides and soldiers made a party of twelve, escorting the ailing prince to Imladris and Lord Elrond's care, which was the best in all the land, and his refuge the most peaceful.  The Prince was deathly pale, and though he stubbornly remained on his feet, led the way and actively refused aid, his hands trembled, and he was profoundly weary.

      Legolas had been there the day his mother and older brother, as well as a number of his friends were killed.  He left the field with a hit to the head that was not fatal, but shook his vision and threatened his balance.  The accompanying headache was an incapacitating scourge, and blood seeped from a cut upon his forehead.  It was not altogether such a bad injury… he's had tons worse before.  But few of them who had been in that group survived, and it was he who had lost the most.  The sight of his friends, his mother and brother's crumpled, bloodied, lifeless bodies was a spear through to his heart.

      As surely as the orcs had killed them, they too were killing the young Prince slowly in his resulting grief.  The weeks pressed on and his wounds refused to heal.  The healers in Mirkwood thought perhaps it was a poison they've never seen before.  But other elven soldiers were injured in the melee and mended well.  There seemed no other reason other than it was Legolas' heart that was the most aggrieved.  And strong and stern though he seemed, it was a heart that was quickly failing.

      Estel had been seven years of age at the time of Legolas' arrival in Imladris.  Much was in the Prince's mind, and so he probably did not even see the dark-haired, sprightly human boy who had looked on in awe as the Mirkwood entourage was led into the halls of Elrond's house.  The curious adan trailed the party through to a guest room—not one of the sparse rooms in the Houses of Healing, he noted—and was set to step inside and watch the proceedings when he felt the touch of his older brother upon his shoulder.

      ~Go to your room, Estel,~ Elladan urged him, ~Ada will be very busy for the next few hours.~

      ~But I wish to see,~ Estel argued.

      ~The Prince is very ill,~ Elladan told him, ~He will not appreciate being a mere curiosity to you.~

      ~But elves don't get ill,~ Estel pointed out.

      ~Oh that's just a rumor Elrohir started,~ Elladan said with a slight smile; his adoptive brother was getting too clever too soon, ~Off with you now.~

      ~'Dan…~

      ~I will have none of that,~ Elladan told him sternly, ~You're on the tail end of a flu yourself.  Father will not be pleased at all to see you about.  As a matter of fact… did I not hear him confine you to bed?~

      ~He did, but,~ Estel's eyes lit, ~I didn't think he would scold me when we had guests.  I was right.~

      ~You really shouldn't be very proud of that,~ Elladan sighed.

      ~Elrohir said you've both done the same before,~ Estel confided.

      ~Well he shouldn't be so proud of it either,~ Elladan told him, smiling helplessly.  Sometimes, he felt as if he was trying to help rear a pair of seven-year-olds rather than just one.

      ~Will I get to meet him?~ Estel asked, ~The Prince, I mean? There's a prince in our house, 'Dan! I've read things about Mirkwood in the libraries, about the mighty King Thranduil, about spiders and things.  I have questions.  Will I get to?~

      ~If you're good,~ Elladan promised.

      ~But you always say that,~ Estel pointed out, ~And then I never get what I want.~

      ~But do you ever follow?~ Elladan argued, pausing as he awaited a reply.  None came.

      ~I didn't think so,~ Elladan concluded, ~To bed, Estel, I mean it.~  The older elf walked into the guest room and closed the door behind him.  Estel trudged toward his own quarters.  He would follow, for now.

* * *

      Estel was, of course, seven years old.  And he lived in a vast palace adorned by secret ways and magical things.  And he had an insatiable spirit that could not be contained by wall and roof.  Which was, in his mind, really reason enough to deem all the mischief he did as merely natural.

      Elrond had come by to bid him good night and see if he was still ill.  The Lord of Imladris was confident of his youngest son's recovery, yes, though not particularly of his good behavior.

      ~I've been told you were out today,~ Elrond told him evenly, sitting by his elbow on the bed.

      ~Just to stretch my legs and get some air,~ Estel said quickly.

      ~It is cold out, Estel,~ Elrond sighed, ~The built of an adan is not so sturdy, have I not explained this to you numerous times? You are still slightly ill, you are courting a relapse.~

      ~I'm sorry, ada,~ Estel said.

      ~Apologize only when you mean it,~ Elrond told him tiredly, expecting him to say sorry again.  The hideously honest child didn't, and this made him smile, for some reason.

      ~Good night, Estel,~ Elrond said lovingly to his adopted son, leaning over and kissing him upon his still-fever-warmed forehead.

      ~Good night, ada.~

      He sank into his covers and meant to sleep, he really did.  But it seemed he'd been lying there for hours and hours after his father left, with his mind wide awake.  Sighing, he kicked off his covers and slipped on his robe over his sleeping garments.  He glanced at the door to the main halls, and then at his cabinet, where he knew a much-explored secret passageway lay hidden. 

      He supposed, since he was wide awake anyway (not that he did it on purpose!), he might as well drop by the library and refresh his mind about Mirkwood.  Its Prince was inside his house! And he had just a ton of questions.  He will be quick, for sure.  Ada, he probably wouldn't mind since the Lord of Imladris always made it a point to emphasize the importance of the… the… what had Elrohir said? The pursuit of a good education.  He might even be proud!

      But Estel grabbed an oil lamp and slipped into the secret passageway instead of the main door in case… well, in case ada felt otherwise.

* * *

      Legolas' eyes snapped open at the sound of strange and subtle creaking.  His heart began to pound, aggravating a headache that was already much to deal with to begin with.

      He held his breath… perhaps it was a healer.  They came and went and had their way with him all hours of the day and night.  But when the wall before him shifted, he wondered if the head injury was getting the best of him at last.  Was he losing his mind? Was he dying?

      A small head popped into his room.  It was a pale, pleasant face with wide, intelligent silver eyes, framed by mad dark brown whorls and waves of hair.  He blinked at the stranger, then narrowed his eyes in irritation at the intrusion.

      The boy—an adan!, he belatedly noted with some surprise—seemed as shocked as he.

      ~I'm sorry,~ the boy said quickly, in a loud whisper, ~I thought I took a wrong turn somewhere.~ he raised up an unlit oil lamp, ~It died, see.  I was on my way to the library.~

      ~I'm afraid you are in the wrong place,~ Legolas told him, the melodious voice shaking with the severity of his pain.  It was as subtle as he could make it, but the boy was smart, and he stepped forward with a frown.

      ~Why are you ill?~ the boy asked, ~You are an elf, are you not?~

      ~If I could stop it, I would,~ Legolas replied, his voice tinged with some bitterness, a bitterness that he loathed but somehow kept reappearing.  The boy took no offense.

      ~I'm Estel,~ he said, and the name made the elf's brows raised.

      ~Is that what you are,~ Legolas murmured, and there was some helpless disbelief in his tone of voice.  Hope came to him in the still of the lonely night.  He felt sore, and weak, and so desperately angry.  They do not expressly say so, but everyone thinks he is dying.  And this tike of a boy comes bearing hope.  The very idea was laughable.

      ~I know,~ Estel sighed, amusingly melodramatic as if he was aged by the burden of his name, ~I wish I were Lucky instead.~

      The boy walked toward Legolas and sat at the edge of his bed.  Legolas' brow arched at the intrusion, but he said nothing of it.  The distraction was almost a welcome one.  Almost.  But not quite.

      ~Do you have every single kind of tree in the world in Mirkwood?~ Estel asked.

      ~I don't think so,~ Legolas answered.

      ~But it's so big,~ Estel pointed out, ~I know how big it is.  I've seen a map.  I know maps by heart.~

      ~If you do not believe me,~ Legolas sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, trying to relieve the throbbing ache there, ~Why do you bother to ask?~

      ~Elladan always says that,~ Estel frowned, ~I don't know.  Older people are supposed to know and I sometimes think I know more.~

      ~I can see that,~ Legolas muttered, before saying louder, ~Did you not have somewhere else to go?~

      Someone else to bother?

      ~Oh yes,~ the young boy stood up, bearing his useless oil lamp.  Legolas glanced at it, came to a strange decision and reached for the one upon his own night stand.

      ~Here,~ he offered the adan, ~Trade.~

      ~You won't use it?~ Estel asked.

      ~Some of us choose to sleep,~ Legolas told him as the pair made an exchange, ~Although I might suggest you use the common way rather than that secret one.~

      ~I can't,~ Estel said, testing the lamp Legolas gave him, ~I'm supposed to be in bed with the flu.~

      ~I want that lamp back,~ Legolas said tiredly.  The blasted boy was now making him an accomplice!

      ~Whether or not you give it,~ said Estel, walking towards the shifting wall from which he came, ~I will be passing by this way anyway.  So you really might as well.~

      Legolas frowned at him with displeasure.

      ~I would really appreciate it if you didn't tell ada or anybody,~ Estel said, pausing midway, ~I mean, I would really appreciate it.~

      ~I can't see why I shouldn't,~ Legolas said.

      ~If you give me your word,~ said Estel, ~I promise I will not get in trouble.  I promise I'll go straight to my room.~

      His head was pounding.  And this crazy adan was bothering him with his trivialities.  ~You have my word,~ he said tersely, drilling the tips of his fingers against his temples, ~Please just go.~

      The boy looked at him worriedly, then nodded and walked away.

      Legolas watched him leave.  The wall shifted back in place.  The night suddenly seemed quieter and darker without him there.

TO BE CONTINUED…

MASSIVE THANKS TO ALL WHO TOOK THE TIME TO READ!!!

THANKS ESPECIALLY TO MY REVIEWERS: Kristen, silvertongue, jenihenpen, MSL, elessar*lover, jopru, susan, chris, tychen, arayelle lynn, wadeva, sodalite, red, unni, lady of the twilight woods, itsuki tachibana, farflung, platy, AM, hobbit killer, starlit hope, kelsey, LOTRfaith and deana.

To jenihenpen: the reunion is not likely to happen, I'm sorry :) at present, the muses are pushing the fic into a place where I cannot see it happening, but we will always want it to :) like I said before (I think in my fic preview which I posted with the last part of my previous project), with the medium being the message and everything.  The character is always longing for something he cannot get.  And hopefully, if I manage to convey all the ideas right, so would we :)

To msl: sure, no prob :) I think the depiction of him as secretive and prideful is not one that is very strange, haha.  Oh well.  Angsty indeed :)  

To tychen: haha, yes, butter.  You've read my fics before so I guess you can tell I have a penchant for weird quirky little details and the fat old horse was one I could not resist putting in :)

To sodalite: it's a work in process at nine chapters as of today :) I can foresee about five more or so :) kinda long, hehe :) I did not think it would be when I started writing it :)

To platy: oh my! I totally missed that one :) thank you, hehe :) there is just one horse, I promise :)

To Kelsey: thanks for the information :) this is something I will check up on more :)

Why does no one believe I'm actually going to kill him? Haha.  Oh well.  We'll see :) 'TIL THE NEXT POST!!!