Thanks so much Lord Elrond of Hogwarts, Warrior Elf, Ymmas Sirron, Teha, Riva van Dyk, Elven-Star-of-Gold, Zammy, Lady Jaina, Arayelle Lynn, Wolf Maid, Kept-Secret, Legolas-Aragorn-r-hot, Inwe Elendil, Hp-Azn, Kathleen LaCorneille, TeacherTam, and tmelange.

This chapter is dedicated to my beloved, brave, beautiful cat Strider. I will always miss him.

Chapter 16: Trauma

But Legolas was wrong.

It was not Elladan, or Elrohir. Neither was it Estel.

But the prince did recognize the body…it was Kaemin, the messenger from Mirkwood sent for the twins.

Elladan and Elrohir had never gotten the message.

For hundreds of years, Kaemin had been the one to usually bring news to Legolas, sometimes staying with him for the rest of his journey. He had been one of his close friends.

And now he was dead.

As well as a slit throat, there was also a vertical slash all the way down his chest. Entrails and blood covered his front. His former bright blue eyes were wide open with fear and pain, glazed and unseeing. A dagger was imbedded into his heart. One of a short twin pair, identical to the one that had stabbed Legolas.

Roneinen's blade.

Legolas' knees gave way and he fell to the ground, vomiting in disgust onto the ground. A tear rolled down his face.

"Kae…" he choked.

He knelt there for a moment, horrified, scarcely believing what lay before him.

After a long period of time, Tarienna trotted over to the prince and nuzzled his shoulder, sympathetically whickering.

Legolas finally composed himself. Now that he actually thought about it, he realized he was relieved that it wasn't Estel or one of the twins.

Then he swore out loud at himself. How could he possibly be relived that Kaemin was dead? He had a family…parents, an older brother, and was even courting a beautiful young she-elf.

And now he was dead.

Legolas sat back on his heels, staring, still in disbelief, at the body, his mind reeling. Finally, he made up his mind.

"Tari," he crooned, gesturing to the horse who had stepped back again. "Come, mellon nin, good girl,"

He unclasped the brooch holding his cloak on and wrapped the cloth gently around Kaemin's body. Then he lifted it, finding it surprisingly light from the blood loss, and draped it over his horse's back. Tarienna flattened her ears and snorted stubbornly in irritation and discomfort, but obeyed her master.

He knew that the body had to be brought home, that a proper burial had to occur. Kaemin's family needed it. But Legolas had not the time. He wasn't riding very fast, anyway, so walking wouldn't slow him down much. If…he stopped in mid-thought and corrected himself – When he found Estel, there would surely be a search party nearby where he could borrow a horse from.

"Home," he told the mare softly, yet stern. "Go home, Tari, noro lim." He stroked her muzzle and gently patted her flank, urging her on. She tossed her white head before galloping off.

Legolas stood for a moment, almost smiling wryly when he realized the horror he would momentarily inflict upon his father when Tarienna rode in bearing a bloody body wrapped in his cloak. Then he realized how terrible it actually was, nothing to smile about. Kaemin's family would have never expected this. A messenger. A relatively safe job.

He felt the grief fill him again and closed his eyes for a moment. Not only was his friend dead, and he held himself responsible, but this only proved Roneinen's determination. It only made it more likely that he had already killed Estel.

'Estel is alive!' He told himself sternly, but knew fully how slim the chances were that his thought was true.

Valar, Estel was so young! He had barely been his friend for half a year, and Legolas hadn't really been much of a friend, either. Whenever he was around the boy, he was overprotective and worried that something would happen to him, mainly because he was just a small mortal. He had hardly been, truly, a friend. One that you could share your secrets with, one who would sneak out on a ride with you, one who would never think of you as weaker. But Estel didn't care. He looked up to the prince so much. He had probably thought that nothing could possibly have gone wrong in Mirkwood…

'This isn't helping!' Legolas realized. He wasn't going to find Estel by brooding about the past.

With greatly lessened hope and the pain of Kaemin's death still in his heart, Legolas adjusted his pack, bow, and quiver, sighed, and set off. His faith that Estel would be found alive seemed absent now, now that he knew the twins weren't even coming.

It had been morning when Legolas found the body, and now it was mid-afternoon. He continued west, crossing an old bridge spanning across a particularly narrow part of the Anduin. He was nearing southern Gladden Fields where the ground was covered in grass, still brown and stiff from the past weeks' snow, and relatively short trees covered the land sparsely. The short winter season was quickly disappearing, and nature seemed to be blissfully happy. Legolas almost found it ironic how he felt the exact opposite.

Hopeless. Guilty. Miserable.

He was in an area where there used to be a village, filled with many small houses. But that was over a hundred years ago, and the only evidence that men once lived here was a few abandoned cellars, their doors covered from sight, grown over with plants.

Suddenly, the prince's eyes fell upon a cluster of five or six trees next to a small gully, obviously surrounding the spot of an old cellar. But this one was different. Legolas wasn't sure why, but something was wrong. It looked wrong, it felt wrong.

He walked up to it slowly, realizing how thick the tree branches intertwined. He noted how easy it would be for someone to hide up there, out of sight. And that's just how it felt, too, like someone was up there, watching him.

As he neared the center of the trees, he realized what had looked wrong to him. There was no overgrowth on the pair of cellar doors. A few carelessly placed twigs and leaves, but the thick roots that had covered the room for decades had been scraped off and pushed to the side. There was also a thick padlock, locking it shut.

Ignoring the feeling that he was being watched, Legolas followed the stronger feeling that something, or someone, was down there. He knelt on the creaky wood and gently rapped on it, wondering if someone below would be able to hear the noise.

"Hello?" He called.

Estel awoke with a shudder and a gasp. What had awoken him, he couldn't recall, but he wished it hadn't, afraid he would be victim to Roneinen's cruel ideas once again. But when he realized that the elf was not there, he was glad he had awoken. Glad to be rid of the dream.

The Dream. It came every time he closed his eyes, and still haunted his mind when they were open. The poisonous herbs had caused it, among many other horrible things. In his dreams there was just as much pain as being awake. He had visions of his family leaving him, saying that they no longer cared for an edain anymore, that they never had. Visions of people he loved hurting him, beating him, for reasons unknown. Legolas telling him that an elf could never be friends with a human, and then lighting a pile of poisonous herbs. The flames grew and grew until they surrounded the child's body, burning him alive.

But the dreams were only part of Roneinen's sick torture. The herbs had also filled his lungs with smoke that had never left. Smoke that made it impossible to breathe properly. His throat was tight and dry, his limbs trembling and weak, unable to even push himself up into a sitting position. His eyes stung and his heart beat fast. Faster and faster, always seeming as it would burst.

Roneinen had not understated when he said that it killed mortals slowly. Estel could tell he was going to die, and it seemed like it would happen any minute…yet the days still passed by.

After a week, noting that the boy was starving, Roneinen had given him a piece of meat. When Estel had eaten it hungrily, however, he was not aware that the food was raw and rancid and had stayed outside for days. For days he retched onto the ground, suffering painfully from food poisoning. Also, the water he was allowed every other day to keep him alive was dirty and stagnant, leaving the child even sicker.

And that was only the beginning.

Roneinen also inflicted every possible form of torture he could think of on the boy. From burning and cutting to kicking and punching, Estel could not believe his body withstood it. He couldn't believe he hadn't died yet.

He just wanted the pain to go away. He had never wanted to lose hope and let go, but it seemed like the only thing that would free him.

He looked up blearily at the ceiling when he heard a knocking sound, moaning softly at the headache the swift movement caused.

A voice called and his heart leapt. He knew the voice, but his feverish mind could not place it. Surely someone had not found him? After all this time…could it possibly be?

But he was too weak to respond, so he simply lay there, letting himself drift back into dreams, albeit how terrible they were.

Legolas received no response and sighed. But he was not giving up. Pulling out his short dagger, he prepared to pick the lock.

Then he felt a bolt of danger enter his mind and whirled around in time to see a body leap from the tree and collide into him at full force.

The dagger fell from his hands, rolling down the ravine, and to his horror, Legolas heard his bow snap when he fell on it. Struggling out of his pack straps and useless weapon, he pushed the form off of him and scrambled backwards.

Roneinen was on his hands and knees in front of him, bearing no weapon. After all, he had used both twin daggers and had lost his sword in the fight weeks ago. If he had a blade, though, Legolas was sure that it would have been what had plummeted down at him from the trees. He was panting, seeming very frantic, his eyes filled with a crazy look, darting around like a scared rabbit. His blonde hair was matted and covered in tree bark, as was the rest of his body. His broken nose had obviously not been tended to, either, as was still slightly crooked.

"I-killed-you." He gasped.

Legolas stared at him for a moment. He knew that this elf was crazy, to think of eliminating the human race, but Valar, he honestly looked psychotic now! The past three weeks had sorely altered his once fair appearance.

"You know that I have been in so many battles that there is no possible way that a simple dagger would rid you of me that easily." He snapped, his mind anxiously planning what to do next. "Where is Estel?" he demanded.

Roneinen gulped, eyeing the sword still sheathed at the prince's waist. Then his mouth stretched into a wide, crazed grin. "He's dead." He laughed.

Legolas felt his throat tighten and his heart drop. "You lie!" He exclaimed, standing up and drawing his blade. But he knew he couldn't kill Roneinen yet, not until he knew where Estel really was.

"I have told many lies in my life." Roneinen admitted, still smiling as he slowly stood up. "But this is not one of them. The edain is dead. He has been for weeks."

Legolas frowned angrily and tightened his grip. "You know I am not stupid, Roneinen. I know that Estel lives. Now tell me where he is."

Roneinen's smile faltered for a second. Then it broadened and, with a shrug, he repeated. "He is dead."

"If you do not tell me the truth, I will cut off your head!" Legolas promised, though his mind was filled with Kaemin's image when he spoke of decapitation.

Roneinen did not move. "You wouldn't kill me, prince," he drawled. "You will keep me alive because I am the only one who knows the truth about where the edain brat is."

Legolas swallowed nervously, he had never been a very good liar. Then he remembered the cellar. "I suppose you wouldn't mind me checking this cellar, then? If Estel really is dead, what is there to lose?"

Roneinen paused, instantly worried, before remembering how he'd killed an elf a week ago when he thought it was looking for the boy. After it was dead, he found that it was a messenger, who conveniently happened to be carrying a written version of his message so that if anything happened, the news would still be delivered.

"Your Imladris friend's didn't get their message, Legolas," he sneered, changing the subject. "But they came anyway, to visit you."

Legolas felt his blood run cold. But what did this have to do with the cellar?

"Too bad they had to pass this way to get to you. If they hadn't, perhaps you'd see them again."

"Where are they?" Legolas shouted, fear evident in his voice.

Roneinen laughed inwardly. It was working. 'Foolish prince', he thought.

"Oh," he continued nonchalantly. "Their mangled bodies are simply lying in the cellar," He gestured downwards.

And his plan worked.

Horrified, Legolas looked down without thinking, his blade dropping slightly. Having nothing to lose and everything to gain, Roneinen charged forward.

Seeing the attack a second too late, Legolas vainly tried to move out of the way. But he was still hit with full force of Roneinen's body and the struggling pair rolled down the hill.

As they rolled, Roneinen grabbed the prince's right hand that was clutching the sword and pulled it hard, snapping the wrist even through the sturdy vambrace. Legolas involuntarily let go with a hiss of pain, and found himself a moment later staring up at his enemy, who held the tip of the blade at his throat.

"You were lying!" Legolas panted, clutching his throbbing wrist, his eyes blazing with rage. "They're not here! They never were!"

"You always have been gullible, my prince." Roneinen chuckled.

But Legolas had come too far to give up now. Estel was alive, he knew it, and probably in that cellar. He would not let Roneinen win.

Before Roneinen could tell what happened, the prince raised his left arm and swiftly hit the flat part of the sword with his palm, pushing the blade away from his throat for a few moments, only slightly nicking the skin.

'What the-?" Roneinen cried in surprise as the prince rolled over and leapt to his feet. Infuriated, he slashed forward, cutting a shallow but long gash down Legolas' right arm.

Legolas felt the hot pain race down his limb and leapt forward, grabbing his fallen dagger that he had tried to pick the lock with. He stabbed it upwards with all his strength.

Roneinen screamed in pain as the blade pierced his chest.

A few miles away, two identical elves were riding across the plain. Rumor had reached their home of something horrible happening to their younger brother. Hoping that it was just rumor, as a messenger hadn't even come to them, they headed for Mirkwood to find the truth. Their father and a few others rode just a few minutes behind.

Then, an elven scream reached their ears.

They shot a nervous glance at each other and kicked their horses into a quick gallop.

Roneinen stumbled backwards, dropping the sword, his eyes open with anguish and surprise. Legolas grinned triumphantly and staggered up, shaky on his legs but still holding the dagger forward.

Roneinen's eyes fell on where the sword lay just a few yards away.

"Don't move." Legolas warned, stepping forward so that he could easily use his weapon if his enemy decided to try to go for the sword.

Roneinen stood there, clutching his wound, gasping.

"You will tell me where Estel is." Legolas ordered.

Roneinen weakly shook his head. "You haven't changed, Legolas." He panted. "You think you are better than me just because you are the king's son, ordering me to do things like some animal."

"I do not think I am better than anyone because of my title." The prince told him. "I have respect for all who deserve it. You, however, are a cold blooded murderer. If I treat you like an animal, well, that would just be an insult to all Nature's creatures. I have more respect for any horse or dog than you, Roneinen."

Roneinen frowned. "Alright…" he began. "I say we make a deal, then."

Legolas' eyes narrowed. "I do not make deals with murderers." He hissed.

Roneinen smiled. "But what if it's the only way to save your little friend?"

Legolas paused before answering. "Continue."

"Well, how about you let me go, minding my own business, and I'll tell you where the edain is?"

"I thought you said he was dead." Legolas reminded.

Roneinen shrugged. "I told you I occasionally lie."

"If I let you go, you will simply murder any other human or even elf that gets in your way. I will not let you out of my sight until you are locked in the dungeons."

"That's fine," Roneinen laughed. "But that means there is no way you'll find the boy."

"I already know." Legolas said slowly, watching Roneinen's reaction to his words. "He is in that cellar, is he not?"

'There!' Legolas saw the emotion flash through his enemy's stern gaze. Fear, vulnerability.

Roneinen opened his mouth vainly to speak but Legolas interrupted.

"Don't try to tell me otherwise," Legolas warned. "I saw your face. I know the truth. You are afraid…because I know where Estel is."

Roneinen sighed exaggeratedly. "Fine, prince, you win. The edain is under there, but I'd suggest you get him quickly, if he's not already dead."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Legolas shouted. "What did you do to him?!"

Roneinen laughed. "I believe that I've lost track. Poison, whips, fire, after a while it all seems the same. Just something that makes the child scream…Valar, how I love that sound."

That was too much for Legolas. He charged forward, shoving Roneinen into the ground, holding the dagger to his throat.

"You sick bastard!" he exclaimed, slowly digging the tip into his throat.

Suddenly, both of them heard hoofbeats far off in the distance.

Roneinen smiled, his mind brimming with possible lies. "Those would be my friends." He told Legolas.

"You don't have any!" Legolas alleged.

"Oh, but I do. My brother, and many other elves who know the uselessness of edain. I'd suggest you get your friend now, and run, or else you will both be dead, after they see what you've done to me."

Legolas froze. He had to think fast. Perhaps if he let Roneinen go for a moment and got Estel, he could hide while the riders passed. But what if they took Roneinen with them?

Abruptly, Roneinen shoved Legolas, sending him heavily on his back into the ground. Then he ran.

Legolas scrambled back to his feet, watching Roneinen run off, to the north. He was already almost fifty yards away, but the prince knew he'd be able to catch up. But then they'd fight again, and who knew how long it would be until he had Roneinen restrained? Or what if something happened to him? What if Roneinen took his weapon again and injured the prince so bad that he couldn't help Estel?

Legolas would not take the risk. Roneinen was wounded, he wouldn't get that far. Right now he had to get to Estel.

Running up the gully, he fell to his knees on the cellar doors and stuck the tip of his dagger into the lock, twisting and turning it expertly. But it wasn't working…this lock was old, it could take many minutes for it to open.

The hoofbeats were very close now, he turned to the western horizon, seeing vaguely in the distance two horses racing towards him.

Only two? Roneinen had spoken of his brother and many other allies. Surely this couldn't be them?

Continuing picking the lock frantically, he kept his eyes on the riders. They were much closer now, he'd be able to see them clearly any moment now…

They looked exactly the same…

Elladan and Elrohir!

Legolas stopped picking momentarily, staring in wonder and shock. They had decided to come anyway!

'Of course!' Even if Kaemin didn't reach Mirkwood, certainly some word of Estel's kidnapping would have reached there. Roneinen actually had been somewhat right. They were here!

Within a minute, they reached him, dismounting.

"Legolas?" Elrohir asked incredulously. At least the prince was not visibly hurt enough to have been the one who screamed, but where was Estel? Both twins felt their worry rise.

"'Dan, 'Ro…" Legolas breathed. "I…"

"Legolas, where is Estel?" Elladan demanded. "What are you doing?"

Legolas glanced down at the dagger in his hands and felt his heart beat wildly. What would he tell them?

"Legolas?" They pressed, their voices tinged with concern. "We heard something happened to our little brother…"

Legolas took a shaky breath.

"Please tell us that it's not true…" Elrohir whispered.

Legolas looked up at his friends. "I'm, I'm so sorry…But it is true."

The horrified looks on their faces broke his heart.

"An elf from my home, he hates humans and…and, he kidnapped Estel."

Elladan and Elrohir said nothing for a moment, the news slowly and painfully sinking in.

"I think Estel is under here," Legolas continued. "I was fighting the elf, Roneinen, you may remember him, he was a caterer. He ran. I can't open the cellar."

Elladan spoke first. Legolas saw his upset grey eyes look down at the cellar before he began to remount his horse. "My father and about a half a dozen others from Imladris are just a little ways behind us-"

Legolas nodded, he could hear them coming now.

"-They'll be able to open this. Where did Roneinen go to?" Elrohir finished, also on his horse.

Legolas realized that they were going after Roneinen. Surprised, it took him a second before answering. "He went northeast, probably over the Anduin tributary not far away. It was just a few minutes ago. A can't imagine that he could've gotten very far, he was wounded."

Elrond and the other riders were already appearing in the distance.

"We will find him." The twins promised, revenge clear in their tone. They didn't even know what had happened to Estel, but they would make Roneinen pay for doing anything at all to their treasured little brother.

Legolas nodded speechlessly as they rode off, just as Elrond and the rest reached him.

The Rivendell lord glanced in confusion at his sons riding swiftly away.

"Legolas, what is going on?" he asked, sliding off of his tall grey mare.

Legolas felt tears burn in his eyes. "Lord Elrond," he began softly. "Estel is in this cellar and it's locked. An elf from Mirkwood took him and I don't know what he did, but I fear he might be wounded. Elladan and Elrohir went after him."

Elrond's eyes widened in shock. "Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, come," he ordered, motioning Legolas off of the doors and kneeling on the ground, prying his fingers under the wood edge. Following his lead, the other three elves did the same next to the corners of the same door.

"This is old wood and will break easily. One – two – three- Lift!"

Legolas watched as the four lifted up and within half a minute of the strong power of the elves, a cracking noise was heard and the ancient wood groaned and creaked as it broke off its hinges. Then the elves flipped it over on top of the remaining door, still padlocked.

Light filled the small chamber and Glorfindel gasped audibly. Elrond paled and stared in horror below.

Legolas felt his adrenaline rush and panicked. "What's wrong?" he exclaimed, fearing the worst.

Erestor quickly stepped up before the prince could move and grabbed his good arm, pulling him away from the sight.

"Let me go!" Legolas shouted as Elrond slowly dropped into the hollow. "Please let me see!"

"'Tis not something you would want to see, Prince Legolas," Erestor whispered in the prince's ear. He too, though trying to hide it, was obviously distressed at whatever he'd seen. "Just let Lord Elrond do what he can, and you might be able to help later. You are wounded, let me tend to it."

Legolas knew that there was nothing he could do, so simply nodded silently and let himself be led to away by the elf lord who began to clean his arm and splint his wrist. When the bone needed to be snapped back into place, Legolas didn't even flinch. His eyes were affixed on the cellar that no one had entered or left since Elrond had gone almost ten minutes ago.

Elrond dropped into the chamber next to the small unmoving form. The child was whimpering and shivering horribly, his frail body covered in filth and dried blood.

"Estel?" he whispered nervously. The elven lord gently traced his fingers over his son's body, checking for broken bones before lifting him. Estel cried out and recoiled at the touch and his eyes flew open, weakly struggling to escape whatever was near him.

"Calm, ion nin," Elrond soothed softly. "It's just me. Estel, it's alright."

Estel was gasping loudly, his breathing extremely labored, crackly noises coming from his lungs. His wide silver eyes were stunned with pain and confusion, not showing any recognition towards his father.

Elrond looked in horror at his son's injuries. The most grievous at the moment seemed to be that he wasn't breathing properly, his pale grayish skin and purple lips showing that he wasn't getting enough air. But other than that, his emaciated body was also bruised and cut all over, small singed areas showing burns. He lay on his side and seemed unable to move any further than that.

Tenderly, Elrond slid the trembling child into his arms, finding his skin hot and feverish to the touch. Estel coughed weakly upon being moved and buried his head into his father's chest, crying pitifully.

Elrond hugged the child close, resting his cheek on Estel's matted brown hair, whispering comforting elvish to him.

"Oh Estel," he murmured miserably, cradling the child gently. Why? Why this poor boy? Didn't the orcs already cause enough trauma? What did the Valar have against his poor innocent life?

The Imladris Lord slowly stood up, holding the child tightly with one arm as Glorfindel reached down and helped him out of the cellar.

Just as Erestor had finished wrapping the prince's wrist, Legolas noticed Glorfindel bending down to assist Elrond. What he saw in the Lord's arm made him literally sick, as he had when he found Kaemin's body.

Estel was in his father's arms, sobbing weakly, his small body shaking.

'Just like what happened with the orcs…'

Legolas felt guilt overwhelm him, and closed his eyes painfully as Elrond took the child to the opposite end of the gully for medical attention.

'I can't let this happen ever again…'

Elrond gently brushed the tangled dirty hair and dabbed the damp cloth on Estel's hot forehead, crooning softly to calm the boy, looking sadly at the bandages covering his son's chest and limbs. He had applied healing and pain relieving salve to the numerous scratches, bruises, and burns, and it looked like it would heal well within a week or so. But Estel had obviously inhaled some sort of poison that could take much longer to fully leave. He had lit a soothing essence candle nearby to help clear the lungs, and given Estel a liquid medicine to drink, but the breathing was still labored and weak.

If his breaths evened, Estel's body would probably also return to normal, though weaker. So much trauma and blood loss for one so small could cause him to have a fragile immune system and just an overall weak body for a long time.

But it was his son's spirit that worried Elrond the most. He didn't know what Roneinen had done down there, but it was something he knew Estel would never forget. What if he was scarred for life, always afraid and shy?

Estel whimpered softly and turned over in his sleep, opening his eyes slowly. He looked confused and surprised to be out of the cellar, but most of all – relieved.

"Legolas found you, ion nin, you're going to be alright now." Elrond told him.

The child raised his head slowly to look around.

Elrond gently eased the boy back onto his back. "Stay still, he's here, you can see him eventually."

Estel nodded weakly but didn't say anything.

"Estel," Elrond pressed. "Can you speak?"

Estel looked up blearily at the form above him. He recognized it but didn't want to say anything. He never wanted to say anything ever again.

"Estel, please, say something."

"Nys," the child whispered. No

Elrond smiled softly. "So, you refuse to talk?"

"Ays," he confirmed quietly. Yes

Elrond chuckled softly. "Are you aware that you are speaking right now?"

Estel brow furrowed and he paused, realizing what he was doing. His fever had made his mind cloudy. "Ays Ada." He murmured, bowing his head for a moment, tears burning in his eyes. "Amin hiraetha," he whimpered. I'm sorry

"Sorry?" Elrond repeated in shock. "Whatever for, my son?"

"Amin edain." He sniffed, beginning to tremble again. I'm human

Elrond embraced the child tightly. What had Roneinen said to him? "Hush, child," he whispered. "Don't say that, there is nothing wrong with being a human. I love you either way."

Estel shook his head and mumbled something inaudible, beginning to cry, letting himself be rocked back and forth until he fell asleep.

An hour later, Elrond looked up from where he was sitting in the cool night air, Estel wrapped tightly in a blanket, to see Legolas standing in front of him.

"Is he alright?" Legolas asked softly, his voice sounding unusually frightened.

"He should recover," Elrond told him as the prince sat down next to him. "Physically, anyway. He is very scared right now, though."

Legolas looked sadly at the small boy, pale and weak. "I'm sorry, Lord Elrond." He whispered.

'Why is everyone apologizing for things beyond their control?' "Legolas, this is not your fault." He said sternly.

"I shouldn't have brought him on that ride with the orcs. I should never have brought him with me to Mirkwood. Everything is my fault…" He miserably told the elven lord about the spiders and getting lost in the cold. He told him about Roneinen and the stabbing and how Estel had been missing for weeks but the messenger was killed. By the time he was finished, his eyes burned with tears.

"You still have not told me anything that is your fault." Elrond responded gently.

Legolas looked up at the elf lord incredulously. "I made Estel go through all this! He's barely eight years old, my lord! No one should have to go through any of that, let alone a child." He lowered his voice. "A human child, at that. I have gotten into many terrible situations with the twins, and I felt horrible enough then, but they're a lot older than Estel-"

"Legolas." Elrond interrupted. "You always have so much self-blame, and yet I have never known why. You always apologize for things that are not your fault at all."

"But this is my fault! If I hadn't of brought him here, he'd be perfectly fine right now!"

"Are you sure about that?" Elrond asked with a sight smile. "Do you think he has never gotten in trouble before?"

Legolas hesitated. "I was never told anything…"

"Elladan and Elrohir must have decided not told you of all the times Estel has gotten into danger. They, just like you, always feel responsible. The truth is, however, that it's no one's fault. Trouble just follows you three everywhere, and Estel has inherited it."

"What kind of danger?" Legolas asked curiously. Surely, nothing could amount to what had happened lately.

"Well, when Estel was four, he wanted to do everything. He wanted to ride horses, but I only allowed him on a small pony. One afternoon, when no one was looking, he snuck out to the stables to try to prove that he could ride a real horse, a big one. Of all in the stable, he somehow chose Elladan's horribly spirited stallion. How he even managed to mount it, I don't know, but he ended up riding it right through the fence and falling off onto a particularly large rock, shattering his left leg in four places."

Legolas cringed.

"But…he barely shed a tear. Instead, he was worried that I'd be upset with him and the elves would be disappointed and send him away. And just a week after the cast was removed, he attempted to use Elrohir's sword, which left a gash all along the same leg…" Elrond paused and looked down at his sleeping son, lovingly stroking his head. "He's gotten many injuries that he surely doesn't deserve, but the years will pass and this will just be another of them. In the future, your friendship will result in even worse situations."

"Well, then maybe I shouldn't be his friend!" Legolas exclaimed, standing up.

Elrond stared at him. "You do not mean that, Legolas…"

"Yes, I do! He's barely alive now and I won't let that happen again!"

"Legolas-"

"I will not see him anymore and cause him further pain!"

Elrond stood up to face him. "Do you not realize that you are his only friend, other than family? Do you know what pain you will cause him?"

"No more than he has already suffered." Legolas replied coldly, turning to leave.

"Legolas, no!" Elrond shouted. "Your departure would hurt him more than everything that happened these past weeks! Do not abandon him!"

But Legolas turned his back on the camp and sprinted off into the night, pulling the cloak he'd been lent tightly around him and flipping up the hood. He closed his eyes as he ran but the tears still fell freely.

'It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?' His heart felt otherwise.

And as he passed out of view from the campsite into the dark, dangerous night, he ignored the feelings of approaching danger, shrouded in unimaginable grief.

"I'm so sorry, Estel," he sobbed brokenly. "I'm so sorry,"

To Be Continued!