Hey, guys! Okay, an apology is in order, I'm afraid. I know, I know, I was SUPPOSED to post yesterday, but it was Sarah and Hannah's (my sisters, if you didn't know that) birthday party, and I didn't manage to get beyond editing the chapter. ;) So, I'm VERY sorry about that, all of you. :
But, anyway, here we go with the responses! :D
Vicki Turner: LOL!! I'm so glad you're enjoying it! And I think "amazing" is a perfectly blush-inducing word. ;)
Elysia of Corellia: Wow, I love the name! :) Oh cool, a lurker? Well, "blush" thanks for coming out of the shadows to review real quick! Yeah, I wonder if you can get a degree in "reader-torture". They could have "cliffies" as an elective! ;) LOL! Nah, I don't think I'm nearly good enough at being mean yet. I'm working on it, though! ;) LOL! Thank you SO much for reading and reviewing, Elysia!
Deana: Thanks! :D
LOTRFaith: LOL! "hands Faith a tissue" sorry I made you cry. ;) But yes, to quote Arwen, "there is still hope". :D
Sadie Elfgirl: LOL! I didn't KILL Thranduil per-se, I just- sorta put him to sleep! :P Yes, Bengwiil is somewhat like "what would happen if the elves of Mirkwood started a black-market drug" or something…Thranduil REALLY ought to rule it out as "illegal addictive stimulant, not for elves under 118" ;)
Helluin: ACK! Don't DIE, Helluin! ;) You're right, Hallelujah is NOT an easy word to spell…by the way it sounds, it really ought to be "hallaylooya" or something silly-looking like that. ;) LOL! YES! Dr. Elrond MD on the job. :P LOL! No, 'm afraid I don't give him the "magical medical touch" that some fanfic writers do, but- yeah, things can only improve, I guess, when they're this bad for Aragorn and Legolas. ;)
Cassia: HIYA!! :D Thanks for stopping by for a last review! "nod nod" Ooh, I'm so SORRY I made you cry!…well…no, actually, not really, you do it to me a lot. ;) LOL! J/K! "hands Cassia a Kleenex" At least you're kind and put up a Kleenex Warning, right? ;) YAY! Can't wait to read Cell #8! bounces oh- and a side note: (for the record, I think yours and Sio's stories only improve. Really. :)
Arayelle Lynn: Oh, I'm so glad that the emotion came through. I work hard on my angst, typically, especially when I'm dealing with issues like "death" and I'm glad it worked for you. :)
Dark Borg Drone: Sorry, some of the Elvish I use is common-phrase sentences, so I don't translate, and just figure it'll go without saying, the essence of what they mean. Specifically, though:
ea le govonen (be you welcome = you're welcome)
Umi us-eriol, meleth le im…baura le im… (leave me not alone, I love you…needed are you to me = do not leave me alone, I love you…I need you…)
"meleth le im" will probably come up a fair bit, because it means "I love you". So that ones it's kind of helpful to know. :) I do try to translate when it works for the scene though. Sorry if I confused you, Borg. :D
LegolasLover2003: That is interesting…about the action figure, I mean. ;) ooooooooh nice guessing. "nods, and then refrains from answering" well, what sort of an authoress would I be if I gave it away? ;) LOL! But yes, you're guesses are great, and VERY intriguing to read. "nod nod" And as to the elvish, granted, parts of it lean towards Quenya when I think that fits, but typically, I use Sindarin, because it is the tongue the Noble Elves of Mirkwood would have used commonly. As to the translation…well, you're guesses are actually QUITE close. You'll find it out later. :D
Celebdil-Galad and Tinlaure: Hiya, mae govonen rene (welcome back), you two! ;) Sorry, but if Rothenzil has a problem, he'll have to take it up with Grimi-son-of-Grimy. "introduces mad-elf to stocky-dwarf" LOL!! ;) Death wish? Me? Nah, not really…well…maybe a little. :P
Legolyn Fay: "stares at unconscious reader" gosh, maybe I should have had everyone sign a contract so I don't get sued. :P LOL! "puts three more anti-cliffy pills next to Legolyn" for when ya wake up. ;)
Stridergal: LOL! Yeah, Garaer isn't- the best, is he? Don't die though, it'll get- a little better! :D "hugs Stridergal" there there… ;)
Maranwe: Yes, when I had Aragorn say "he said other" I did mean "other things". Because I don't know Tolkien's writing as well as I'd like, I tend to lean a little Shakespeare now and then. Lines like "I asked him his business, but he said no other" come up a lot, so that's why I think I used that. Sorry if it was confusing. ;) And yeah, "Adda" is Sindarin, I don't know, maybe the Quenya is "Ada". "Adda" looks more like "Daddy" to me, which makes a better contrast against "Adar", "Father". sooo….yeah, anyways. ;) Onomonopias, YES those are fun! I basically listen to a sound, and just- try and brainstorm how it would sound in words. I sat next to our creak for ten minutes, trying to figure out its sound for my vignette "Look Through My Eyes". I ended up with "flofliniafloflinia"…so, as you can see, it tends to be a bit vague, but it is fun. :) And you'll be happy to know I've officially pestered Sarah and Hannah, and Sarah gave me this update:
"We are MORE than halfway through, and writing like maniacs after suffering double writers-block. It's going a lot better now, definitely!"
Hope that helps!
Galadryal: Hiya, thanks for coming and reviewing!! Normally readers don't bother to catch up so thoroughly, but thank you very much for doing it!! :D And I'm so SO happy you're enjoying it.
Elvin girl: though I'm sorry I made you cry, I can't help but blush that I did as well. ;) Thanks so much! Sort of makes me twistedly happy that you find my fics so tear-jerking. ;) LOL! Yeah, I know, I'm an angst-buff, especially with Estel and Legolas. "nod nod" Thanks for the review! :D
Well, guys, I guess it's time to get this posted before it gets any later! ;)
Here 'goes, Super-E to the rescue. :P
Enjoy! And thank you, hannon le, gracias, merce, ect for all the blush-worthy reviews. ;)
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Chapter 6
Not a Choice
He ran to me
Took me in his arms
Held my head to his chest
Said, "My son's come home again!"
He lifted my face
Wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in his voice
He said: "My son, do you know how I love you?"
"When God Ran" , Benny Hester
Legolas was running. He nearly tripped the rest of the way down the staircase as his feet flew from one step to the next. At last his boots hit the floor once more, and he made a mad dash for the elf standing in the Great Hall's doorway.
Before he knew what he was doing, the prince had thrown his arms around Elrond's shoulders, and pressed his forehead tightly against the elf's crooked cloak. "It is so good to see you," he gasped, trying to convey his nearly staggering relief at having hope once more.
"I'm sorry I could not have come on better circumstances," the elven lord replied quietly, gripping Legolas' shoulders as the prince stepped back from his embrace. "It is good to see you too, Legolas." His smile was still saddened as he looked the other up and down. "I know you must be hurting greatly, and I am sorry to bring grief to your door so efficiently, but I must ask…may I-" He swallowed hard, and looked away from Legolas' stunned face. "May I see him?"
The younger elf didn't reply at first. Elrond's grief seemed to shatter all hope that had been in him. "Then…there is no hope for him?" Legolas could barely make the words out in his own head. Elrond's foresight has all ready seen Estel, and all ready surmised that there was no hope for him…
No, Estel could not be lost! It wasn't fair, he was still breathing, surely there was a way to get all that Bengwiil out of his blood…
Elrond shook his head slowly. "Bengwiil is an artificial strength that becomes poison. And poison kills, Legolas. Once it finally kills, there is no bringing that person back to life, especially when he is…when…" A lump grew in Legolas' throat as the Lord of Rivendell looked away again. His eyes closed tightly as he tried to control his emotions. "When he is human," he finished, though his voice was barely above a whisper.
Legolas couldn't believe his ears. Elrond was here to help, was he not? Had Estel never given to his adoptive father the hope he'd left in Legolas? Where was the lord's confidence? Surely there was still a way…Legolas stepped back from Elrond quickly, trying to grasp himself. "Then…then what? Will they both die for no reason? Is there really no alternative, there has to be, my lord!"
Elrond's eyes glided open in surprise as he stared fixedly at Legolas. "Both? Has another life other than Estel's been taken by this poison? Are there two bodies that lie cold in death this night, Legolas?" The older elf's eyes were narrow with confusion and worry.
Legolas' mouth hung half open. "I…" He stood blankly still, landing Elrond with a look of utter confusion. Then, with a blast of realization -realization that had been erased momentarily in relief- his father's voice resounded in his memory.
"Will you send a messenger to Rivendell? Inform Lord Elrond that his son, Aragorn…is dead."
"Lord Elrond? Did you…receive word from Mirkwood recently?"
The older elf nodded slowly. "Yes. Well, your father sent a messenger, and he was waylaid by the orcs roaming about in these woods. He escaped, and made it half-alive to Rivendell but a few days ago." His eyes focused on nothing as he spoke next, his fist clenching and unclenching at the neck of his robes absently. "The moment we got word of Estel…well, we rode hard for these Halls."
A few days? Had it really only been a few days…? Legolas couldn't seem to believe that.
Elrond looked up yet again, focusing only halfheartedly on Legolas' eyes. "Please, Legolas, I know it is hard for you as it is for me, but I just want to see him again. I know it is not pleasant, seeing the dead, but…understand that I must. Please."
"Elron-" Legolas' voice chocked somewhere in the back of his throat in surprise. He blinked several times, excitement taking place within him again. And then, to Elrond increasing surprise, the prince nearly laughed. "Oh, Valar, Lord Elrond! I- curse us, we should have sent word…well-" He couldn't think what to say. Estel is really alive! or It's not as you thought, or You shall never guess…
But none of these ideas as they flashed through his head sounded right. Instead, he decided on, "Follow me upstairs, my lord, I shall show…" but he didn't finish. The Lord of Rivendell's eyes were wide and disbelieving. They stared up. Past Legolas.
The prince turned, and quickly realized why. Panting, bracing himself against the railing, pale and trembling, Aragorn stood at the top of the stairs. The human seemed not to focus on much, but glanced around wildly for something familiar. He looked lost.
Elrond took a step forward, and Legolas a step to the side to allow space for the father and son. Elrond's hand had stopped clenching at his robe, and hung limply at his side instead. His eyes were even wider, his mouth slightly ajar. As Legolas watched, the elven lord's wide eyes began to sparkle with tears. "Estel."
Aragorn's eyes shifted downwards to where Elrond now stood at the foot of the stairs. For the first time, his eyes seemed to focus, and he appeared not as pale. For a second, he looked more like a boy, less like a man.
Aragorn's age fell away from him, and he grinned, and let go of the banister, running down the stairs as best he could, his booted feet thudding sharply. "Adda!" he cried, "Adda!"
Elrond too broke into a still-stunned run, moving swiftly up towards the young man running to him. Aragorn made it halfway down the stairs before his physical strength failed him, and his knees gave way beneath him. But it didn't matter. Elrond was already there, and caught his son in an embrace.
Elrond sat down on the stairs, and pulled Aragorn tightly against his chest, running trembling fingers through the young man's sweat-stringy hair. "Estel, fion nin…Oh, I was sure- so sure you were dead. I couldn't bare it, I didn't know- what could I have done without…oh, Estel…how did I not know you lived? I can feel you so clearly now."
"Adda," was all Aragorn could respond. In his dark world, the place where poison were his thoughts, and lies his sight, there was one thing that Bengwiil could not trick out of him. Elrond was here. He was here and he loved his Estel. His adoptive son. He loved him. No doubting it. Aragorn held tighter to his father's robes, and half-panted, half-sobbed, "Don't let go of me…don't let the dark have me back, Adda, please…"
"I won't, Estel, I promise. Bengwiil shall not hold you again. Not as long as I am with you." He sighed shakily into the top of his son's sweaty head. "I love you, Estel, how I love you only Ilúvatar understands. And you're alive. And- and you're safe, and I…" He couldn't seem to express himself enough, so he stopped talking then, and simply wrapped his arms tighter around Estel's shoulders, closing his eyes, and memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Aragorn closed his eyes, and savored the feeling of Elrond's pointed chin pressing against the top of his head. He felt the lord's breath moving in and out, sporadically showering Aragorn's scalp with a warm, moist sense. He didn't want to let go…but the breath was turning cold. And his father's chin was beginning to make his head throb. His father's heartbeat pounded so loudly, it made his ears ring. And the fingers that closed around his shivering shoulders were thin, cold, crushing, and meant harm.
Aragorn knew it was his head alone telling him these things. That Elrond loved him. That the last thing he ever wanted right now was for his son to hurt. But hurt Aragorn did…and he couldn't seem to grasp anything outside the hurt anymore.
The human swung his head out from under Elrond's chin, and his pressed himself, eyes closed, against the lord's shoulder instead. As his trembling fingers groped blindly for something to hold onto, he murmured, "You- you don't mean it, Adda, and…I know you love me, so- I won't listen, I promise. I promise that-" His hand found the elven lord's cloak, and gripped it desperately.
Elrond's hand moved nervously over his son's forehead, while Aragorn mumbled on, and then slid despondently back. The boy's skin felt as though it were on fire. Apparently, Bengwiil manifested as a fever in a mortal. As Elrond already knew too well, fevers were dangerous enough in a human on normal circumstances. The fact that Aragorn had survived this long was a wonder.
Elrond pressed a warm palm against the back of his son's sweaty head, pulling the boy's forehead tighter to his shoulder. "How do you feel, Estel?"
"It's really…dark and cold…and cold…t-to, but I…see…it's far…not really, but I…don't see it…" Aragorn's voice wandered in and out of itself for the longest time, and Elrond could barely tell what he was trying to say. But at last, the human's mind surfaced to a conclusion only a selfless personality such as his could have found at such a time. "Legolas' father is dead."
Elrond's head shot up, and he turned a quick look on Legolas. The prince met the gaze evenly, and shook his head hastily. "No, no not dead, just as Aragorn was not dead." Legolas cocked his head slightly and shrugged halfheartedly. "Bengwiil."
Elrond only nodded. "Is he more critical than Estel, then?"
Here, the Lord of Rivendell presented Legolas with a hard decision. The prince had no doubt in Elrond's healing abilities, he could save someone from Bengwiil, as Legolas had already learned. But…what if he healed Thranduil, and there was no time for Aragorn anymore? Was it a choice between the two? No, he refused to believe that. Elrond was here; he could heal them both.
He had to believe he could heal them both.
In the end, though, Legolas needn't have struggled over his answer so, for Aragorn spoke up. "Yes." Elrond looked down at the human in his arms, just as the Aragorn looked up at him, his pupils dilating aimlessly, making his eyes look wider and more frightened. "Go, Adda, you can save the king…you can save Legolas' father." His head rested limply against the older elf's chest. "I'm…just sick."
Legolas stepped to the foot of the stone staircase, staring mystified towards the panting human. "Aragorn, you are not just sick, it's Bengwiil that-"
"I'm just sick," the other insisted, sitting halfway up, and staring resolutely back at Legolas between painful blinks. It seemed as though the light was hurting his eyes all of a sudden. "Adda, go to the king, I know that he is close to death, I have been there myself. No one is in the room, he does not know comfort, and he will not come back, save if you go now and-"
"Aragorn, this is the third time you have collapsed from Bengwiil- at least! You-"
"I am just sick." Aragorn turned his eyes from Legolas to Elrond instead. "Adda, if I had not heard Legolas' voice all that time in darkness, I would not have survived, I know I would not. Thranduil went willingly, he will not fight death. He may be dead already!"
"Aragorn!"
Aragorn's head snapped to the side. "No, Legolas, I am just sick! Leave it be, save you're father-"
"But you-"
"Estel," Elrond's voice was calm and quiet as he redirected his son's gaze towards him. "Are you really just sick?" His eyes were deep and probing, begging for the truth or no word at all.
Aragorn stared back for a long moment. Then, "The king is dying, Adda. Please. I know Legolas loves him greatly. That is my choice."
Elrond nodded reluctantly. "We have little time," he agreed, and stood slowly up, allowing Aragorn to remain sitting on the stairs, now braced against the railing rather than the elven lord's chest. "Come, Legolas, will you take me to your father's room?"
Legolas didn't respond, but climbed up the stairs after Elrond in silence. That is, until he reached the step Aragorn sat on. He knelt down before his friend, and grasped for the human's hand. "Aragorn, please, tell your father. It is Bengwiil, your life is in danger, and-" He gritted his teeth, then added in an anger that fear planted in him. "And you know it, Strider!"
Aragorn's eyes were emptying of emotion as Elrond began to walk away. "Your father's dying, Legolas. Go to him. I'm…I am just sick." His eyes shut tightly, and he pushed past the elf before him, staggering down the stone steps. "Go, Legolas, go. Human's just get sick," he called halfheartedly. "They get sick and sometimes…well, sometimes they die…"
"Aragorn!"
"Go!" Aragorn's voice was shrill with emotions he did not feel. Fear and anger. Both were things he didn't mean to convey. Both were the fault of Bengwiil. Both were taking off with him once more.
Legolas stood frozen as Aragorn staggered as quickly as he could down one of the hallways to the balconies. He had to go after him. He had to save-
"Legolas!" Elrond's stern tone made the prince jump, and spin around. He met the lord's dark eyes bravely, for in those windows was an emotion he could understand. Elrond was worried, and yet…there was hope there as well. "If we hurry, we can save your father and Estel from Bengwiil. But if we delay they will both die, do you understand?"
Legolas nodded.
"Good, come with me." And the two of them ran quickly up the stone steps.
- - - - - - - - - -
When they'd reached Thranduil's door, and Elrond turned quickly and asked for a volunteer to help, Edren had of course been the first to stand up, though Garaer insisted he'd been more than willing to join them as well. Elrond had responded to the elven guard in a two short sentences. "Help my sons. Front gate, and hurry if you can."
Then Thranduil's door shut behind the elven lord, prince, and friend.
"What can I do?" Legolas whispered quickly as Elrond ran his gentle hand over Thranduil's forehead, and then eyes.
At Legolas' words, the elven lord cast his robe off along with a leather satchel that had been swinging from his shoulder. Quickly, Legolas and Edren knelt down to open the leather bag. They soon found scattered on the floor before them, about five handfuls of different herbs as well as a pile of cloths, and a flagon a little over half full.
"What should we get you, Elrond?"
"Legolas?" The elf didn't appear to be listening to Legolas' question. "How did this get here?" His fingers brushed over the cut running the length of Thranduil's collarbone.
Legolas looked away. "I…it was an accident."
"Well, then it's the most convenient accident I've ever been across. Hand me some Salab, will you? Young, if you can find some."
Legolas blinked in surprise and watched stupidly as Edren handed the elven lord the handful of baby green herbs. "Convenient?" the prince demanded disbelievingly.
"Well, it seems to have sliced one of the primary blood veins. A vein that feeds directly to where Bengwiil is attacking him." Elrond's forefinger tapped his temple absently as his right hand reached for the Salab he had taken from Edren and put on the king's bedspread.
A horrifying memory followed the realization. "You're…going to take the poison out." Legolas' voice was very quiet and slow as he thought the words out. "Like you did with me," he concluded, meeting Elrond's curious eye bravely.
The elven lord nodded. "It is the only way I can save him."
"I know," Legolas stood up and walked to the other side of the bed. "What should I do?"
"Edren," the young elf leapt to attention. "I need you to hold the king down. It is a hard thing I ask of you, I know, especially when he is your king, but you must keep him from moving as much as possible."
"Yes sir," Edren nodded promptly, moved to Legolas' side, and began to massage Thranduil's shoulders gently.
"What should I do?" Legolas repeated, trying to catch Elrond's attention once more. He was afraid he knew…he was right.
"I need you to keep him, Legolas. I need you to speak to him. Keep him here, all right?"
"Like Aragorn did for me," Legolas said quietly, and at that, his face went resolute.
"Yes." And Elrond said no more, but pulled the Salab away from Thranduil's neck, where he'd been rubbing it to numb area, and reached for the flagon, pouring some of the liquid inside onto a cloth.
"Isn't athales supposed to be boiled afresh?" Legolas asked, as the sweetness of the plant filled the darkness around them. It seemed to turn the air clear.
Elrond sighed. "Well, yes, but better it be prepared in advance than wilted athales be used, I've found." He shook his head, corking the flagon again. "I fear that I am only so knowledgeable with the ways of this plant, but it is all I know of that can delve so deeply into someone's system and purge it of poison. It is the only thing that saved you, of that I am certain."
Legolas shook his head slowly. "No. Not the only thing…"
Darkness…deep darkness of forever sleep. It was taking him. Far, far away. But somewhere deep in the shadows a voice called. "Friendship does not waver at a wind…"
Elrond watched the prince carefully, knowing what was likely going through his head. "Legolas," he said gently. "Aragorn will be fine, but you have to help me now with your father, all right?"
Legolas sat slowly on the bed, taking his father's hand, and running his thumb up and down the back of it. "I'm scared," he admitted quietly. "I hate Bengwiil, it stirs within me my worst recollections, the darkest of my memories…I don't want to remember."
"Istón," Elrond's voice was sad as he took a second cloth and rubbed Salab into it. "This is the only way. You are permitted to leave if you feel you must, but I truly believe you can keep your father with us while I heal him. Are you willing?"
"I am willing," Legolas responded quickly shaking his head, and giving Thranduil's hand a squeeze. "I- I'm just scared."
Elrond didn't answer back, but instead, brought the cloth of athales close to Thranduil's cut, and after a brief hesitation, pressed down hard.
Thranduil's body didn't respond at first. The room was still and silent. Elrond's eyes shut tight as he pressed the athales harder. He began to whisper in Elvish, his tone commanding yet with a undercurrent of uncertainty. Of worry.
Legolas pulled his father's hand close to his own heart's rhythm. "Come back, Adda," he pleaded. "Come back to the light."
It happened instantly. Thranduil's back arched painfully, almost as if someone had hit him at a pressure point. Elrond's eyes snapped open, and he nodded, panting. "Good, it is working."
Legolas couldn't meet the lord's gaze, he was shaking all over. What would happen when Bengwiil started to come out of that wound? What would he remember? Would he become hysterical and useless?
"It's coming, Legolas, it's coming…"
Legolas shook his head at Elrond's words, and felt Edren tense beside him. His hand tightened over Thranduil's.
The air started to smell green as Bengwiil mixed with athales. Legolas found he was trying not to breathe. He could hear Elrond commanding the Bengwiil out in the elven tongue again. His lungs were burning, and he filtered in a bit of air. Just a bit.
Darkness threatened his thoughts…a cave…Bengwiil…Aragorn's pale face…death…the dying…the unthinkable…the forgot and remembered…silently, Legolas vowed not to breathe anymore of the green air.
His eyes were fogging slightly, and his head was dizzy. No, he would not inhale! His grip on Thrandui's hand was slackening, and he'd given up on whispering to the king anymore. He didn't want to breathe to do it.
"You shall conquer it, Legolas."
Oh, Valar! Why did Estel have to believe in Legolas so? He'd so much rather give into his fear, and stop trying to fight it. Bengwiil was evil, and he had a right to hate it entirely, and avoiding it was wise wasn't it?
Think of what you're saying, Legolas thought bitterly. You would rather avoid your own memories than speak comfort to your father? What is wrong with you.
Legolas' head was spinning from lack of air. His hand rested heavily on his father's but the fingers would not move. He couldn't do this, yet he could do no other! The choices swam before him like a blank idea. A blurring more than sight. He didn't want to breathe in that smell- that living memory of Bengwiil. Yet how could he abandon Thranduil?
"Leoglas!" The prince's head snapped around to face Elrond. "Breathe," the lord said quietly, his eyes more understanding than his words. "It will be fine."
Legolas nodded curtly, and gasping in a full gulp of air, his hand tightened over Thranduil's. "Lasto beth nin, Adda, tolo nan galad!" He was shouting. Trying to drown out the memories and fears that echoed within him. Threatened to crush him. "Lasto beth nin, Adda! Morth tur-al garo ad thenin glawar," he called quickly, saying the first Elven words he could think of.
His breath was short, his head spinning. The floor tipped and the ceiling bowed at its center. The whole room was a circular rather than square- lacking corners, lines, sharp edges, defining features. It suddenly became to Legolas a large blur with no shape. No beginning and no end. But he held tightly to his father's hand and whispered every Elvish word that entered his head, stringing it together in a comforting phrase that made little, and often no sense.
He would fight it. He would stay awake and himself despite his breathing Bengwiil in and out. Despite the driving fear that nagged at him, he would not let go. And soon, Legolas was made to realize that there, in Thranduil's dark room, he was fighting this greatest fear of his. He was defeating Bengwiil again. And he awoke suddenly to the fact that once he had allowed himself to fight it- he could not only battle but win.
Estel, how blind I was not to believe as you did. Not to have hope. But Legolas smiled despite regret. He was winning. Winning over Bengwiil with no doubt as to the result. Everything would be fine. All would be well.
Someone was pounding frantically on the bedroom door. "Lord Elrond! Prince Legolas? Please, someone- Estel he's- Lord Elrond? Prince Legolas?!"
"Legolas, keep talking, Edren? Hold tight," Elrond instructed quickly, as the two elves went hesitantly back to their business. But Legolas, though speaking to his father and squeezing his cold hand, could not take his eyes off the bedroom door Elrond hurried to open.
What about Estel?
Elrond swung the door open and addressed the elf standing there with a curt nod. "What is it, Tiris?"
"Lord Elrond- Estel was running for the stables, and so I followed him, for he was not himself. I asked him where he was to, but he said 'I do not want to kill you, Tiris,' and rode off!"
Elrond didn't react for several short moments. "In which direction did he go?" he asked quietly.
"Towards the West, into Mirkwood, my lord." Tiris paused his panting for only a moment. "What can I do, sir, what is wrong with him? Why was he afraid of killing me?"
"I know not…" Elrond whispered, and turned to look at Legolas. The prince's eyes stared knowingly back, pierced with sadness.
"He is not himself, Lord Elrond," Legolas repeated Tiris' own words. "He thinks…his greatest fear it…" Legolas couldn't bring himself to tell Elrond of Aragorn's greatest fear; of what the human had seen when poisoned with Bengwiil.
"He is sick," Elrond summed up to Tiris quietly, when Legolas did not finish his sentence. "I pray you, send a rider after him. When Estel stops, instruct that rider to wait a quarter of the hour, and then make a sort of signal, perhaps if he took a horn with him. By the time of that signal, we will be able to come and assist him."
"Very good, sir," Tiris responded promptly and turning on his heal, took off down the hall.
Elrond closed the door, and turned quickly to Thranduil once more. Legolas didn't move.
"Come, Legolas, keep talking. Keep him here." Elrond's voice was very quiet, but in no way betrayed what he was really thinking.
The prince was shaking his head numbly. "I cannot stay here," he whispered, in the tone of one who has only just realized a great important thing. "I have to go after-"
"Legolas." The sharpness in Elrond's voice came unexpected and caused Legolas and Edren both to flinch. "If we go after Estel now, your father will die. This is not a choice between lives, all right?"
"I know…" Legolas' voice trailed away. He didn't know. He didn't understand. He forced his mind to slow down and look past the panic that came naturally. Did he trust Elrond? Yes. Did he truly believe that Aragorn was stronger than seemed as he said he did? Most certainly.
"I know," he repeated, but this time he meant it. Kneeling down once more, he grabbed his father's hand tightly. "Come back, Adda, please. You don't know what is at stake…"