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Chapter 12: From Bad to Worse

As the band of elves walked on, Legolas whimpered pitifully and murmured something about 'estel'. Sila glanced sadly at the prince. He could tell how upset he was. If there was really a human child somewhere out in the forest, how long would it survive? He knew that men had a low resistance for the cold.

Ever since an elf-prejudice group of men began to prowl throughout Mirkwood, most of the elves living in the area developed a strong dislike for the race. Sila didn't think one way or another on the topic, but Legolas obviously cared a lot for this human boy.

He glanced back. If this 'estel' died because they didn't turn around, Legolas would be crushed. With a tentative sigh, the young elf turned and darted back to where they had found the prince.

Hyalma trotted quietly through the woods until she finally came to her fallen master. She nickered, concerned, and nuzzled the boy, but he didn't stir. She stood over him protectively and gently nudged him periodically, knowing someone would come.

Eventually, Sila neared where Legolas had been, and was surprised to see a horse standing not even ten yards from where they had found his friend. It was standing over some partially-covered form and nickered timidly, pawing at the ground.

The blonde elf neared the horse and gently spoke to it in elvish to calm it. It stepped back and Sila knelt on the ground, uncovering the body curiously. A soft whimper escaped the little dark-haired child. Sila carefully brushed back its hair to check that it was indeed mortal. Though obviously such, being so cold, the boy was clad in elven clothing and had an elvish manner about him.

"Estel?" Sila asked softly. The boy's eyes opened slightly but he was too numbed by the cold to move.

"Legolas?" the child whispered. All he saw was a blurry blonde form but the voice didn't sound like the prince.

"No, I'm Legolas' friend, Sila," the elf responded gently, carefully picking up the child.

"Is he alright?" the boy whimpered.

Sila smiled at the boy's concern. It was sweet that such a small, frail child was so worried about the prince even though he was freezing cold. "He's alright," the young elf responded.

He neared the horse and rummaged through its saddlebag, finding a warm blanket to wrap around the boy. But when he went to mount it, it snorted stubbornly and stepped back, ears flattened. Sila groaned, obviously this horse only let those it knew ride it. The teenage elf swore at the it and began to walk home with the now unconscious Estel, the animal slowly following.

Sila finally reached the center of Mirkwood, leaving the horse free to do whatever it pleased, bringing the child inside.

Thranduil saw the elf immediately.

"Sila!" he said sternly. "We were to wait until we got Legolas to safety before looking for the boy. Why did you leave? If something ill had happened on the way back we needed the whole band of elves to defend ourselves and my son."

"I'm terribly sorry, milord," Sila apologized. "But I don't believe this child could have lasted much longer out there. He needs healing immediately."

Thranduil stepped forward, taking the small bundle. "You still disobeyed orders," he said flatly, looking over the boy.

It whimpered and mumbled 'Legolas' deliriously. The king's gaze softened at the child. "Bring him to the healers and make sure he is well tended to," he said gently, handing the mortal back to Sila. He had no great like or dislike for men, but there was something about this child that one couldn't possible dislike. He could tell why his son had befriended him.

Estel was sleeping soundly in an empty room, covered in warm blankets, his wound bandaged. Suddenly he sat upright, gasping, his mind reeling from his horrible nightmare. He shuddered, not even realizing immediately that he was in an unfamiliar place. His dream frightened him greatly...it wasn't like it was happening to him at that moment...it was like foreboding feeling of what was yet to come.

Legolas blinked his eyes wearily, slowly awaking from his healing sleep.

"Good morning, Greenleaf." He heard a familiar voice say lovingly.

Legolas smiled, not needing to turn his head to know who it was. "Ada," he whispered happily.

He did a quick mental check of his body, knowing that even though his mind was still tired and couldn't recall, he had gotten into some sort of trouble, as usual. Then he remembered.

"Estel!" he cried, sitting up.

"Shh, Legolas, he's here, don't worry," his father assured him, gently pushing his only son back into a laying position. Valar, did Legolas care nothing for his own health?

"He is?" Legolas breathed in relief. "He's alright?"

"He's a little ill from being in the cold for so long but he will be fine. Who is he?"

"His name's Estel," Legolas explained, though worried about how the boy must feel in a place he'd never been in before with no one he knew. "Lord Elrond took him in as a son and I met him a few months ago when I went to see the twins. He's a wonderful friend."

"I see," Thranduil remarked, marveling at the fact that the Lord of Rivendell had adopted an edain. 'A human-a wonderful friend?' he thought inwardly.

"Can I see him, please?" The prince asked,

"Legolas," Thranduil sighed. "Must you always be so hurried and careless for your own well-being? You still need rest, ion nin, the young edain will be fine, I promise."

Legolas nodded, knowing there was no way to change his father's mind. As he felt sleep overcome him again, a small thought entered his mind, reminding him of the strange feelings he had and the suspicion of the poison still in his back. 'I'll tell someone...eventually,' he thought dismissively.

Estel sighed shakily as the nightmare gradually dimmed from his mind. Then fear re-entered his body as he realized he didn't know where he was. He didn't know what had happened after he collapsed. He didn't know where Legolas was.

He gulped fearfully. What was he supposed to do? There was no one in the room and he feared to shout out for someone, though he figured he must've been in Mirkwood. Shakily, he slid out of the bed, hugging a blanket around himself, slowly walking towards the door. Just as he was about to reach for the handle, it swung open, almost knocking the boy down in surprise.

A tall blonde elf walked in, shooting the child an annoyed glance.

"Lord Thranduil requested me to bring you some food." He said flatly, setting a wooden tray with fruit, water, lambas, and a muffin, on the bedside table.

Estel eyed the tray hungrily. "Thank you very much." He said politely. The elf said nothing. Estel gripped his blanket nervously. He smiled brightly. "I'm Estel," he said at a lack of nothing else.

"I know who you are, edain." the elf said coldly.

Estel's face fell at the bitterness of the word. "What's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Roneinen, if you must know." The elf snapped, stepping back towards the door. "Stupid child," he muttered cruelly, eyeing the boy.

Estel felt his stomach tighten nervously but continued with his friendly nature. "Do you know where I could find Prince Legolas?" he asked nicely.

Roneinen groaned inwardly. This was just too much. He hadn't wanted to even go in the same room as a mortal, but it was his job. He hated men more than anything else and this perky child was breaking his last remaining thread of patience.

"You may not leave your room, edain," he said, barely containing his anger.

"But I need to see Legolas," Estel pouted pitifully.

"I said – You can't leave your room!" Roneinen shouted. "Are you deaf?"

Estel stepped back fearfully. "N-no," he whimpered. "I'm sorry."

Roneinen smirked. "You need to be taught a lesson." His hand slid under the folds of his robes.

Estel stumbled back into the corner. "What are you talking about?" he asked, the dangerous glint in the elf's eyes scaring him.

"You are inferior to the Firstborn. You do not deserve to be treated like us. You are worthless." Roneinen hissed, nearing the child. "I shouldn't have to put up with you,"

"I can't help it." Estel whimpered. "I didn't choose to be mortal."

"You befriend the prince and it seems the Lord of Imladris has taken you in. You live a wonderful life like an elf, even a high-class one – 'Foster son of an Elf Lord.'" His eyes flashed with rage. "But I and my brother weren't born to the royalty of Mirkwood. Oh no, we had to work hard and all I have now is this bloody job of catering to weak scum like you. But, no...that wasn't bad enough. Your greedy, cruel kind had to kill my father!"

Realization hit Estel. This elf hated the elf-prejudice men in the forest and now had to take care of a mortal, thinking for some reason that he had something to do with the cruel humans. "I have nothing to do with the men in Mirkwood!" He exclaimed. "I hate them, they hurt Legol-"

The elf roughly slapped his face. "Shut up! You dare call the Prince your friend?! You do not deserve to, edain!" He grabbed for the boy's shoulder but the child moved and the shoulder of his tunic was ripped off, revealing the scar of the dagger wound inflicted by the orcs.

Roneinen grinned. "Already got in some trouble?" he sneered.

"Orcs," the child whispered fearfully.

Roneinen smiled wickedly. "You're going to wish they had done away with you while they could, edain. You don't deserve to live with the elves. You don't deserve to live at all." A dagger glimmered under his tunic.

TBC!