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Chapter 13: More Pain
Estel's heart hammered so loud in his chest, he thought someone in another room would be able to hear it.
"W-what are you doing?" he whimpered fearfully.
Roneinen gripped the dagger tightly in his right hand, his left pinning the helpless child against the wall. His dark green eyes darted to the blade and back and the boy, and smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I'm not quite sure yet, edain, I'm trying to think of the most painful way to punish you for your crimes."
"My crimes?"
"The crimes of your race."
"I didn't do anything wrong!"
Roneinen's eyes grew more hate-filled, if that was even possible, and he swiftly thrust the knife forward into Estel's shoulder.
In surprise and pain, Estel stifled a cry of pain.
Roneinen's eyes widened and he turned for a second to the closed door. He hadn't planned on the child making much noise...he hadn't planned at all. He just wanted humans to pay. "You fool! Do you want everyone to hear you?" he snapped, slapping the child's face as hard as he could, smacking his head back into the wall.
Estel whimpered as he slid to the ground, a tear rolling down his face and he closed his eyes tightly.
Roneinen dropped to his knees in front of the child, hearing approaching footsteps. "I'm not done with you edain. This was an accident, you hear me? That's what you tell anyone who asks. If you tell anyone what I did, I'll kill you and them! Is that clear?"
Estel nodded pitifully as Roneinen left the room. He hugged his knees tightly to his chest, choking back sobs.
Legolas walked slowly down the hall, one hand on his chest that was bandaged to protect his cracked ribs, limping on his wrapped leg. He smiled wryly, knowing how upset his father would be when he found that he'd left his room. But he was healing fast, and needed to see his human friend. He desperately wanted to talk to Estel.
Suddenly a familiar cry alerted his keen elven ears. Fear jolted his heart. Estel!
He picked up his speed and turned the corner. He thought he saw a form dart around the next hallway, but didn't care. He immediately opened the boy's door and froze to see the child in the corner of the room, curled against the wall. His shoulder was bleeding freely and bruises were forming on the side of his face, streaked with tears.
"Estel!" he exclaimed, racing forward quickly.
The child raised his head. "Legolas?" he whimpered, opening his teary blue eyes.
"Oh, Estel," Legolas gasped, dropping in front of boy, confusion overwhelming him. "What happened?"
"It was an accident," Estel sobbed. After a pause he continued uncertainly, "I-I tripped into the bed post," he lied, glancing at the sharp points on his four-post bed.
Legolas quickly glanced at the post. No blood. He knew instantly it was a lie.
But why? Why would the child lie to him?
Estel hiccupped and gingerly touched his wound. "It – hurts," he cried.
"Nienithar!" Legolas called to a healer that would be in the next room as he tenderly wrapped his arms around the stricken child, holding him close. "It's going to be alright," he soothed, gently wiping the tears out of the boy's eyes.
Estel nuzzled his face into the prince's chest and mumbled something that sounded like 'Why me?'
As Estel's shoulder was bandaged, Legolas sat next to him, comfortingly holding the child's hand. It distressed him to see how scared the child looked. He knew it wasn't just from the pain, even though it obviously hurt, for Estel hadn't even looked quite like this in the hands of the orcs. Something had happened to the boy, and Legolas did not know why he wouldn't say what.
Nienithar finished wrapping the bandage, glancing at the prince.
"You may leave," Legolas said curtly. The healer nodded and began to leave the room.
"Wait," Legolas added.
"Yes, my prince?" Nienithar asked.
"Can you tell how that wound was caused?" Legolas felt Estel tighten nervously.
"I believe it was a stab wound, milord," The healer said with a slight bow before leaving.
Legolas heard the child gasp and looked down at him. "Estel..." he said slowly. "What-"
Estel closed his eyes and pulled his hand away, scooting to the other edge of the bed. "I don't want to talk about it." He said shakily.
Legolas inched closer to the boy. "Estel, I do not understand. What has happened and why are you lying to me?"
Estel simply shook his head dejectedly, looking tired, miserable, and frightened.
Legolas sighed and protectively wrapped his arms around the mortal, draping the blanket off the bed around his shoulders.
"You're going to be alright, tithin min," he whispered. He felt Estel gently grip his tunic sleeve and could tell it would take a lot before the child calmed.
Legolas took a deep breath and began to softly sing. He hadn't in many, many years and his heart twisted with both inner pain, yet happiness, as he let the words flow out.
"Quel lome, lisse tulat, Nai lya kaima yeera nurashwe. Quel lome, lisse tulat, Nai lya esta yeera liiva tiln, Quel lome, lisse tulat, As' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle, Quel lome, lisse tulat, As' menle nauva calen ar' malta. Quel lome, lisse tulat, Quel kaima, tithin min."
He felt Estel's body relax and the child's eyes closed tiredly, sighing softly as he drifted into sleep. Legolas smiled fondly at the child, tucking the blanket gently over the boy.
Thranduil walked down the hall swiftly, frowning. Valar, he went to get his son something to eat for a few minutes, and when he returned, as always, Legolas had left. With broken ribs and a shattered leg, no less. Could Legolas not leave this child for just a few days?
He was just reaching the child's room when he froze in front of the slightly open door. He leaned against the crack and listened carefully to something he never though he'd hear again.
He could hear Legolas singing softly inside. He peered in and saw his son gently cradling the mortal child, singing a lullaby his mother, Thranduil's wife, had sung to the elfling prince everyday when she was alive. She hadn't been alive for two thousand years, and Legolas hadn't sung in that time either, especially never that song - being originally made just Legolas.
Thranduil smiled softly, tears in his eyes as he listened to his son sing beautifully. This child wasn't just any human.
"Thank you, tithin edain," he whispered with a small smile as he continued down the hallway.
After a week, Estel stayed in his room. He was too scared to leave, yet also scared every time he was alone. Seeing the child's fear, Legolas stayed with him as often as he could, yet never receiving any further hints as to what had happened. He made sure, however, out of suspicion, that he was the only one ever to see Estel. The healer's words- 'A stab wound' – rang clearly in his head. Someone was hurting his young friend and he was determined not to let anything happen again. Eventually, he knew, Estel would tell him what happened.
Another anxious week passed. Estel's shoulder was mostly healed, as well as Legolas' injuries, being an elf and healing fast. Still, Estel revealed nothing.
Estel rolled over quietly, hugging the blanket tightly around him as he slowly woke up. Looking around, he realized that Legolas was not there as he sometimes was.
He felt a shiver of fear run down his spine, as he did everyday. He never knew when Roneinen would be back...to hurt him. But inside, he knew that Legolas would not let any harm come to him.
He slowly got out of the bed, stretching, and beginning to change into a clean tunic hung in the room. Maybe it was a one-time thing, he thought...he wished. Just a single moment of rage, never to happen again.
Estel hated being in his room all day. He hated being in such a small, vulnerable space, and wished to at least go out and see some of the rest of Mirkwood. For the past couple weeks he had been too afraid to leave his room, but now he finally was ready to.
As he slowly left the room he noticed the hallway was empty, which both pleased him and made him nervous at the same time. He made his way down the hallway and sneaked out the door, breathing in a deep breath of fresh air. He smiled as he strolled throughout the courtyard, out of sight of any elves. He figured he'd be able to get back in his room before anyone even noticed he was gone.
He skipped happily near a grove of trees, forgetting all his troubles. Then he heard someone clear their throat threateningly behind him and he jumped fearfully, turning to face Roneinen.
"Didn't even know I was there, did you? Stupid edain." He hissed, sword drawn.
Estel backed up quickly. "L-leave me alone," he told the approaching elf unsteadily.
"Did you tell anyone?" Roneinen snapped quickly.
"No!" Estel managed before turning to run away.
Roneinen grabbed Estel' shoulder swiftly and pulled him backwards, causing the boy to yelp in pain. "You did, didn't you? I can hear it in your voice."
"I didn't, I swear," the child stammered, trying painfully to pull out of the elf's tight grasp. He opened his mouth to shout for help but Roneinen clamped it shut.
"You lie-!" Roneinen began but his threat was cut off by an abrupt shout.
"Estel!" Legolas shouted, racing up to the pair. He had entered Estel's room only to find the child gone. When he saw got outside and saw Roneinen with the boy he knew what had happened. He had known that this lower-class elf didn't like men but had never really given it a second thought.
"Roneinen! Release him now!" the prince exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the sword dangerously close to Estel.
"No!" Roneinen spat.
Before the elf could think twice, Legolas punched him in the face, temporarily dazing him. The prince pulled Estel out of his grasp, pushing the child out of the way of harm.
"Run and tell my father!" he shouted as Roneinen staggered backwards, holding his bloody nose with one hand.
Legolas kicked Roneinen in the chest, causing him to release his sword. The prince grabbed it, but before he could use it, Roneinen pulled another dagger out of his tunic and stabbed it forward, right into then left of the unsuspecting prince's chest, near his heart.
Legolas' blue eyes widened in horror. His legs buckled involuntarily as he fell to his knees, straining to remain conscious as pain overwhelmed him. He heard Estel scream behind him and tried desperately to open his mouth and tell the child to keep running, to tell his father, to not stop for him. He gasped for his next breath as his eyes rolled back as his vision blackened, the last thing he felt being the blade ripped from his body. Then he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
"NO!" Estel cried as blood began to pool around his friend's unmoving body before the hilt of Roneinen's sword was thrust against his head, cruelly dragging him into unconsciousness.
TBC!