A word of warning: I began writing this story not knowing exactly where I was going with it, and believe me, it shows. It is disjointed and doesn't flow at all. It also didn't help that my ten-year-old cousin kept nagging me with questions as I worked on it. "Are you done yet?" "How much longer until you're finished?" "How many paragraphs do you have left?" Ha! I can never even accurately guess how many pages any given story will be! Anyway, this is by far the worst LOTR story I have written to date. But hey, at least I'm being open and honest about it. Hopefully, someone will enjoy it anyway.

Title: Mortality Has No Shield

Series: Book of Days (basically, it's a series of missing moments. Little scenes between Aragorn and Legolas that will take place throughout the trilogy – please read author's note (2) for more info.)

Author: Erika

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Estel is injured while on a hunting expedition and Legolas keeps him company until help arrives from Rivendell.

Timeframe: Takes place a few months after the flashback in my story "Fall of a Friend." It'd probably be best if you read that story first, but it's not entirely necessary. You can find it at on my website (link provided below)

Spoilers: For "A Light in the Darkness" and "Fall of a Friend."

Category: Angst, H/C, POV.

Disclaimers: It would make me the happiest person in the world to be able to truthfully say that Aragorn and Legolas belong to me, but alas, it is not so. I make no money from this, and it is written (against my will) for entertainment purposes only.

Feedback: Both positive feedback and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and will be cherished!

Archive: Please ask and send me a link to your site so that I can check it out. D

Author's Note: (1) It's been a few years since I last read the LOTR in its entirety so these missing moments are basically based on the movies. I apologize in advance if I contradict anything that's stated in the books; any mistakes are purely accidental. (2) So far, this series consists of the following stories: "A Light in the Darkness", "A Friend Such As You", "Darkness", "The Comfort of Listening", "There is Always Hope", "Fall of a Friend", "Mortality Has No Shield," and "Despair." (3) This is one of two (possibly more, we'll see) stories that are part of the "Book of Days" series but don't actually take place during the trilogy. The reason I'm including them in my "missing moments" series is because they're part of the same timeline.

Thanks to: Miki,for the reminders. ) I was going to dedicate this story to you until I remembered it's not one of my favorites, so I think I'll save that for one of the next HP stories that I'm more happy with. I hope you enjoy the fic.

Mortality Has No Shield

Legolas:

A refreshing gust of wind came sweeping through the trees, lifting the hair off my back and blowing it across and behind my face. When I cleared my vision I saw that the fire had gone out so I swiftly moved to rekindle it. Grabbing two pieces of dry wood, I struck them together until a spark flew and ignited the tinder.

I loved fire, from the gentle crackling sounds it made to the wonderful way the golden-orange flames leapt and fell in a constant dance. Even the smell enchanted me. The scent of smoke and burning wood was intoxicating, especially now that it mixed with the spicy aroma of roasting lympthas meat and the rich tang of the forest. And the forest surrounding Rivendell, though it lacked the splendor of Mirkwood, was exquisite. The song of the trees, the peaceful hum of the wind, the pattering feet of the scurrying animals, the invigorating musk of the leaves, bark, and earth… It was all so extraordinary.

I closed my eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. It was wonderful to be out in the wilderness again, hunting. The night air was cool, brisk, and refreshing; the clearing we had found afforded a perfect, unobstructed view of the stars. Sitting here, preparing dinner and reposing with Estel, I was completely content and at ease. I felt as if I could spend the rest of my eternal life enjoying nights such as this one.

I had wanted to embark on a hunting expedition for quite some time now and I was glad that Estel had agreed to accompany me. For years I had preferred to be alone but now I found Estel only heightened the experience, as it was a blessing to have someone to share things with. Also, my young friend had often complained that he had never spent more than a day or two away from Rivendell without the supervision of one of his brothers. This was my way of thanking Estel for how kindly he had taken care of me after Endanlel's death.

The first week had truly been terrible. Realizing how precarious my emotional state was, Estel had hardly left my side. Even though we were strangers, he had taken it upon himself to comfort and help me. He had seen to it that I ate and slept sufficiently and had listened as I told him about Endanlel. When my heart was truly cracking, he had taken me out into the forest for hours at time, silently observing as I tried my best to achieve communion with the trees.

As weeks passed, he had granted me time alone, to contemplate and explore. We still spent a great deal of time together but it was devoted to more than just Endanlel and my grief. We had discovered what our common interests were, discussed and debated different subjects for hours on end, and come to care for each other as far more than the comforter and the comforted. There had always been a spark between us, something drawing us together, and it did not take a great deal of time for that spark to grow into a deep affection. We had become inseparable.

Of course, Estel remained constantly observant of my moods. If he noted any trace of sadness or grief, he would do his best to lighten my thoughts. If my grief overcame me, he would comfort me. However, mostly we simply talked of whatever sparked our interest. Having someone to be with, someone who obviously cared for me very deeply, had been of comfort in and of itself, and slowly, I had healed.

This hunting expedition was also a celebration of that.

We had left Rivendell early yesterday morning and had found a herd of lympthas that very afternoon. Moving stealthily through the wood, we had been tracking its movements since then. Estel had expressed his confusion. He did not understand why we did not simply make the kill and return to Rivendell. I had explained that for me, the joy of hunting was in the chase. He had smiled and accepted that. And it was the truth. Mostly. In reality, I simply wanted to spend as much time in the forest as possible. Estel knew that though. He had seen it in my eyes.

I opened my eyes. Estel was watching me. A thoughtful expression touched his face. His eyes were concerned, serious, and astute; his gaze was intense and probing. My friend, I knew, was very perceptive. He often took to carefully studying me, his eyes seeing more of my thoughts and moods than I believed possible. It was his way of making sure I was all right. There were times, though, when I thought he was looking for something more than an insight into my disposition. I wondered, sometimes, if he was trying to understand everything about me.

Estel smiled suddenly and his eyes softened and glowed with a gentle happiness.

"What did you see?" I pondered aloud, intrigued by my friend's reaction.

His smile broadened so that it touched his eyes. "Joy," he said simply.

When I didn't respond, he leaned forward to grasp my forearm. "Always before, your eyes would weep. When you were enjoying yourself, even when your eyes were bright, there was always a shadow of tears and sadness. Now, it is finally gone."

I stared at Estel in awe, realizing he was right. This was the first time I had been truly happy since Endanlel's death. This was the first time I had not felt some level of grief, guilt, or regret. And I had Estel to thank for that, for my being here. If he hadn't cared for me with such tenderness and devotion, I truthfully believed I would have died of despair. He had given me so much of himself. I had never before known any friend who cared for me so deeply, or who I cared for so deeply in return. My gratitude to him could never be appropriately expressed. His friendship was a delight and a blessing.

I covered his hand with mine, "For that, I have you to thank," I whispered.

Estel blushed and shook his head, "It is I who should thank you." At the confused furrowing of my brow, he explained: "I comforted you in your grief, Legolas, and in return you have given me your friendship."

I felt my cheeks and the tips of my ears burn and nodded. "I…do not know what to say."

He tightened his hold on my arm, "You need not say anything," he whispered and then leaned back.

"Legolas, you simply cannot imagine it! She is more beautiful than any other living being…more beautiful than the trees you love so much. When I first saw her it was as if I was dreaming." Estel paused then, smiling almost shyly, "I-I think I am in love with her, Legolas."

The corners of my mouth curled up indulgently. He had been praising the Lady Arwen for over an hour now. He had excitedly described to me, in endless detail, the enchanting depths of her eyes, the lovely hue of her skin, the delicate glow of her hair, and the honeyed tones of her voice. Even if I had not chanced to meet Arwen once, many years ago, I would now have a flawless image of her pictured in my mind.

I glanced at my friend appraisingly. He had a positively boyish glow about him. I shook my head, amused. Estel was an intelligent, soft-spoken, extremely engaging companion whose wisdom and compassion often made him seem much older than his age. However, there were times when I realized how exceedingly young he really was. This was one of them.

I ate some more of the roasted lympthas I had prepared for dinner. Though Estel was perhaps the kindest person I had ever met, as well as a true and loyal friend and a very talented storyteller, he had absolutely no skills in the culinary department. The food he made – if one could call it that – was more akin to poison and had the consistency of tar, as I had had the misfortune of discovering last night. Therefore, tonight I had prepared the meal while Estel prattled on ceaselessly about the glorious Lady Arwen. He was so distracted that he had not even touched the lympthas, and Estel had an appetite that rivaled that of a dwarf.

"Does the lady return your affections?" I asked mildly, wondering why I was encouraging the lovesick young man.

"I do not know," Estel admitted seriously, "I know she is fond of me. Her eyes sparkle when she talks to me…but she probably thinks I am only a boy."

"I doubt that," I murmured, thinking of Estel's kind heart and generous spirit. "You are wise beyond your years, I am certain the Lady Arwen is not blind to that."

Estel grinned hopefully at my words. "Have you ever seen her, Legolas?" he asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes," I said as I continued to eat. Then, feeling Estel's expectant gaze on me and realizing that he was waiting for me to give my opinion on the lady of his dreams, I added, "She is very beautiful."

My friend fairly beamed and I laughed mirthfully.

A comfortable silence passed between us as I finished my portion of dinner. Seeing that I was done, Estel asked: "Shall we continue the chase?"

I arched a surprised eyebrow. Estel had not eaten. "What of your dinner?"

My friend glanced mournfully at his plate of lympthas. "I do not seem to have much of an appetite tonight," he apologized, "I am sorry. It looks delicious."

I frowned and cocked my head to the side. "Are you feeling all right?"

Nodding immediately, Estel rushed to reassure me, "Yes, I am quite all right. I am not ill. I am simply not hungry."

Knowing that my friend would not lie to me, I accepted his words. It was odd that Estel was not absolutely ravenous but stranger things had happened, I supposed. "Very well," I said, noting a shadow had fallen over Estel's usually bright eyes, "I will keep it in my pack and you can eat it tomorrow morning."

I reached inside my bag and pulled out a pouch of preserving salt I had brought. Forking the slabs of uneaten meat off of my companion's plate, I quickly stowed them away and replaced the pouch in my pack.

"We can continue the chase if you would like," I finally responded to Estel's initial question, "but we can also stay here tonight."

Estel frowned, "If we stay, we will lose the pack," he protested.

"It does not matter," I assured him. "There are many lympthas herds in these woods. We can easily find another. I suggested this hunting expedition simply because I wanted to spend time in the wood again."

"Legolas," he met my gaze, his eyes unreadable, "I have never before been fortunate enough to see you this happy and I would do nothing to darken your mood. If you would prefer to go, we shall. If you would like to stay, then we will stay."

There it was again. His endless generosity. I smiled. "Then we shall go, but not after the herd. Last time I was in Rivendell," I explained quietly as I stowed the plates and put out the fire, "I thoroughly explored the surrounding woods. A few hours from here, there is a cliff. The trees grow all the way to the edge of the cliff and then continue at the bottom. However, the trees on the bottom are…" I faltered, uncertain of how to explain it.

Estel continued to watch me, patiently waiting for me to find the right words.

"Their song is more vibrant, more mirthful, more alive. The trees here have…beautiful voices as well, but they are subdued. I can truly lose myself among those trees at the base of the cliff and I would like to, perhaps, spend two or three days there."

Estel nodded immediately, "Of course, my friend."

"You should know that we will have to climb down the side of the cliff," I warned him, "and that once we do I will–"

"You will allow yourself to be swept away for long periods of time by the beauty of the trees and I will be left to my own diversions," he interrupted and finished for me. "It did not bother me the numerous times I took you out into the forest after Endanlel's death and it shall not bother me now."

"That pleases me." I smiled gratefully. "We shall hike to the edge of the cliff tonight, set up camp, and then sleep. After sunrise tomorrow, we can climb down to the bottom. I fear that if we attempted it after sunset, your poor human vision would have you plummeting to your death," I teased.

Estel smiled.

I awoke shortly after dawn to find Estel's sleeping quilt neatly folded up by our two traveling packs. Surprised that he would have risen so early, I quickly climbed to my feet and surveyed our small campsite. Estel had obviously relit the fire, which should have been dwindling after the long night hours but instead roared with fresh life. Aside from that, everything was quiet and untouched. My friend was nowhere in sight.

Trusting my instincts, I swiftly slipped into the forest and covered the short distance to the edge of the cliff. Last night, just as the last rays of light gave way to the cover of darkness, Estel and I had reached the precipice. My friend had been awed by the beauty that the orange and pink streaked sunset cast over the tops of the trees and I was not surprised to find him there now, silhouetted against the light of the rising sun.

I came to stand beside him. My eyes fell to the forest below. The way the gentle rays of golden sunlight bathed the green and brown hues of the wood in radiance was indeed breathtaking.

"Good morning," I greeted my companion, observing with a sidelong glance that his features were drawn in a pensive mask and that shadows of fatigue darkened his face. "You look tired."

"Good morning," he returned, smiling. "Tired? No, I slept well. Your elf eyes are playing tricks on you, my friend."

Estel turned towards me, his face bright and his eyes alight with affection. Truly, he did not look drained now, the shadows seeming to have vanished. Perhaps the light had deceived me, then. "You missed a spectacular sunrise."

"You should have woken me," I admonished gently, "but I am glad you enjoyed it."

"I did enjoy it. I have enjoyed myself immensely since we left Rivendell. Thank you for inviting me." I nodded, glad that he did not regret his decision to come with me. "And I would have roused you, but you looked very peaceful and content and I was loath to disturb you."

I smiled at that.

"Are you ready to begin our climb down?" Estel asked excitedly, bouncing a little with an endearing childlike enthusiasm.

"Do you not wish to have breakfast first?" I questioned, slightly concerned that Estel had skipped dinner last night and now seemed quite ready to skip breakfast this morning.

An odd flicker passed through Estel's eyes but before I could examine it, it was gone. "I already ate while you were sleeping. I found the lympthas in your pack. I hope you do not mind."

"Certainly not," I assured him, trying to quell the sudden uneasiness in my heart. Was he actually lying to me? No, of course not; I dismissed the idea nearly as soon as it occurred to me. Estel would not lie to me, much less about something as trivial as whether he had eaten already.

Estel looked relieved, which surprised me. He could not actually have been worried that I would be displeased with him for taking the food – which was for him – from my pack, could he?

"Then we can begin our descent?" he questioned eagerly.

"Yes, of course, as soon as we put out the fire and collect our gear."

Estel grinned and together, we walked back to the campsite.

"Estel? Are you all right?" My tone was sharper than I had intended and it reflected the true extent of my concern. We were nearing the end of our descent but we still had a great deal of terrain to cover and it was a long way to fall. There was no way my friend would survive unscathed.

I looked up at the small ledge where Estel was precariously perched, his rope dangling just out of reach. We had been climbing for nearly three hours, alternatively conversing and exchanging teasing banter, and everything had gone well until just a few minutes ago. Estel had been propelling down with the apparent grace and ease of an elf when abruptly and inexplicably he had released the rope and fallen about five feet onto a small, uneven protrusion in the rock face. Now, he was hugging the side of the cliff so as not to fall further. His head was bowed and I could tell that he was shaking. I knew instantly that it was not from fear.

"Estel!" I called up to him again, trying desperately to control the rapid beating of my heart, my joy at sharing this experience with Estel having quickly turned to a chilling fear for his safety. What was wrong with him?

Estel didn't answer but the tremors wracking his body increased and I noticed that he was gripping the wall with fingers the color of snow. "Tell me what is wrong!" I subconsciously switched to elvish in my growing alarm, wondering if it would be possible for me to drop our packs and instead carry my friend to the ground.

"I-I am dizzy," he finally answered me in a strained gasp.

Dizzy!? The word sent the liquid tentacles of fire slithering through my veins. Fear like none I had ever felt in battle gripped me. If Estel was dizzy, there was no way he would be able to safely climb the rest of the way down. What was worse, if the lightheadedness overcame him, it would be all too easy for him to waver and lose his footing. I could see him now, tumbling through the air until he smashed, with unimaginable force, into the forbidding ground below, shattering bones and…

I swallowed. No. That was not helping matters. It was no short distance from here to the ground below but unless Estel broke his neck on impact or suffered a lethal concussion, he would survive. Imagining the worst-case scenario would hardly do any good. I had to keep my head and think of a way to bear Estel to safety.

"Estel, please listen to–" My words died on my lips. He was moving! What was he doing!? He was still shaking, still wobbling on his feet and… He was reaching for the rope! The fool! One mistake, one misplaced foot and he'd fall, no doubt suffering grievous injuries. The physical body was, after all, a fragile thing.

"No! Do not move!" I yelled but it was too late. Disoriented, he had stepped too close the edge and tried to gain footing in loose gravel and unsturdy rock. The ground gave way beneath him, sending down a shower of dirt to sprinkle the treetops below us. For a moment, he seemed to remain suspended in the air but then his arms flayed wildly, his desperate hands trying to claim purchase somewhere – anywhere – but grasping only empty air.

In a torrent of dust and chunks of rock, he fell, plummeted without uttering so much as a word of surprise or protest. It happened much quicker than the scenario I had pictured in my head, where his form had seemed to twist and tumble relatively slowly. In reality, one moment he was there and the next he was gone. It was only by the grace of my quick reflexes and keen eyesight that I was able to follow his movement, right until the moment of impact when a cloud of dust and torn leaves and branches obscured his body from view.

Frantically, I peered through the settling fragments Estel had displaced. My friend was not to be spotted. He must have fallen through the top layer of trees and thus landed beyond my field of vision. I had no way of judging how severe his injuries were.

"Estel!" I called down, desperately hoping that he was still cognizant, though it seemed unlikely.

To my great disappointment, I was not graced with a response, merely the rustling of branches and leaves as the breeze picked up. This did not surprise me. Such an impact, though not lethal, would no doubt shock one into unconsciousness. I would not allow myself to consider the other option – that Estel had been misfortunate enough to land in such a way that the life had been knocked from his body.

"Estel! If you can hear me, know that I will find you soon and look after you. Do not worry, all will be well." I yelled, having no rational reason to do so. After all, my words could serve as no comfort to Estel, who was not awake to register them. Perhaps they were simply uttered to make me feel better, because for all my silent denials and reassurances, I still harbored a nagging concern that Estel had already passed from this world or that his injuries would soon precipitate his death.

I shifted my gaze from the treetops to where Estel had so recently stood. Most of the ledge had fallen away. Dust still lingered in the air. All that was left of Estel was a solitary rope, dangling in the cool breeze.

The sight was unnerving. What if… What if he had perished and the rope became all I had left of him? That and my ever-persistent memories? No. I shook my head resolutely. Estel had not fallen that far. He was alive. Injured, undoubtedly, but alive. And he needed someone to take care of him. He needed my help.

Suddenly, I was moving. Before, I had slowed my pace because Estel could not climb as quickly as an elf, though he certainly possessed the skill. He simply did not yet have the endurance. Now, though, I spared no energy. I moved with as much speed as my body and will allowed me. I did not take the time to find the safest footing or easiest path. I did not try to avoid the sometimes quite thick brambles of bushes and cacti that somehow grew on the now slightly-sloping side of the cliff. I simply propelled myself down as fast as I could. I had to reach Estel.

It had been nearly two centuries since I had last made this climb down the cliff and in my rush to get to Estel I had forgotten how treacherous the last stretch was. This bottom segment was not as steep an incline and thus allowed for the growth of more vegetation. Bushes and small trees covered the terrain, offering little to no clear passage. By the time my feet touched the forest floor, I was covered from head to tow in small twigs and thorns. Cuts and bruises marred my skin and my clothes were torn and muddied. However, though my climb after Estel's fall had taken nearly two hours and had been difficult and physically trying, I felt neither pain nor exhaustion.

Where was Estel?

From up above I had known exactly where he had fallen but from ground level I did not know my location in relation to his. Was he to my left or right? How would I find him? Would I even be able to see him from the ground? What if he was suspended too high and obscured from my vision by the thick foliage of the trees?

A foolish hope struck me. The fall had rendered him unconscious but perhaps…perhaps he had awakened. "Estel!" I bellowed as loudly as my voice and lungs allowed. "Estel! Can you hear me!?" I paused to take in a deep breath. "Estel!"

Nothing.

I sighed. Left or right then? Judging from where I had been when he had fallen, it logically seemed that I needed to… Wait. What was that? Had I heard something? A voice? Or had it been the call of some wild animal that chanced to be nearby? There it was again. It was faint, but it didn't sound like an animal…

Turning right, I followed the sound. At first I heard nothing, but then… "Legolas!"

"Estel!" I called back, relief making me momentarily weak. He was alive, just as I knew he would be though fear had kept me from completely believing it. "Keep talking, I need to find you!"

"Legolas! I am stuck… You will need to help me…please," his tone was gravelly and strained, almost broken.

Now I was running towards his voice. "Are you hurt?" I could have slapped myself as soon as I had uttered the words. What a foolish question. Of course he was hurt! One did not fall from the side of a cliff and land unharmed. "How badly are you hurt?" I amended hurriedly.

"I-I am not…entirely certain." His was closer now. "I am unable to move and…it has been so difficult to stay conscious. My leg feels as if it has been split in two and…I am cold." His voice was weakening as he spoke. I could hear the pain and pleading note in it. "Please…hurry."

My steps momentarily faltered. He had never sounded so young. Only now it was not amusing to realize how few years this man had seen. It was not endearing like his incessant babbling about the Lady Arwen had been. It was not at all reminiscent of any of the other times I had been reminded of his age. No, instead it was heartrending. He sounded so desperately young that it tore at me.

Estel might have been more mature than his years dictated, he might have been trained in weaponry and self-defense by Lord Elrond himself, but not even the accumulation of his heart and skill could deny one simple fact: my friend had never before been so grievously injured, had never before felt the level of pain he was surely feeling now.

He was in agony and frightened because of it.

"Legolas?" Sweet Elbereth, he sounded so…lost, so small, so close to tears. "I-I need for you to hurry, please."

I swallowed. It physically hurt to know that he was in so much pain. "Believe me, Estel, these trees have never seen an elf fly faster. I will be there shortly…" My words waned. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to say or do something that would take away his pain and fear. "You are not alone, Estel," I vowed, "You know I would not leave you."

I expected Estel to say that he was indeed aware of that but he did not respond. Whether it was due to physical or emotional strain, I did not know. I suspected it was a union of both.

"Estel, I know you are in a great deal of pain but you must keep speaking so that I may follow your voice." What I did not say was that if he kept speaking he would be less likely to lose consciousness again, which was critical to his survival. I did not know the extent of his injuries but they had to be severe, considering the distance he had fallen. It was imperative that he stay awake. If he passed from the waking world it would be so easy for him to slip further. I let these thoughts go unvoiced, though. Estel was the son of Lord Elrond and had been instructed in the ways of healing. He had to know.

"It is…so difficult, Legolas… The pain seems to en-engulf me and…my vision darkens… I can barely form the words to…describe it to you," he answered finally, his voice so soft that I could hardly hear him.

I was running with such speed that I almost did not see it. Estel's pack, frayed and ripped open, hung suspended in a tree that stood about twenty paces ahead of me. A blanket and some of Estel's clothes were tangled up in the branches just below those that held up his knapsack. The rest of its contents lay scattered in the grass at the base of the…

My chest tightened coldly.

Estel!

Coming to a stop just before my supine friend, I visually examined him. The first thing that struck me was how…diminished he looked. This was not the quiet but confidant young man I had come to cherish. This was not the self-assured, intelligent companion I had grown to love spending time with. This was…a child. A child who did not know how to cope with the physical hurt he was being assaulted with. A child who felt overwhelmed by pain and thus was giving into fear. The fear that his life would end this way? The fear that he was not strong enough to endure this agony? I did not know and could not say what so frightened my friend. I knew only that he was terribly scared. It was so obvious in the way he held himself…the say he seemed to sag into the ground.

Silently, I shook myself from my stupor. I had to gauge the severity of his physical wounds.

Estel was lying at an angle away from me and was unaware of my arrival. I decided against informing him of my presence as I thought it best he be spared the sight of my surprised and shocked reaction as I took in his broken body.

He was trapped in a wretched tangle of branches and leaves, as well as an assorted bundle of his own belongings. Sprawled across the ground on his back, with his arms and legs tied in branches that had been torn down by the force of his impact, his form was twisted into an unnatural position.

Opening my mouth in a silent gasp, I resisted the urge to close my eyes. A legion of splintered bark abraded his skin, which was covered in welts, bruises, bloody gashes, and a sticky sheen of stinging sweat. His right arm was bent out of shape and… I suppressed a shudder. The bone was protruding from his forearm. His leg… By the Valar. It was sickening. His left leg… It had somehow been speared by one of the tree's gnarled branches. In the area of his thigh, it jaggedly plunged into his flesh like a warped sword. Blood slowly oozed from the wound, soaking his clothes and dripping onto the forest floor only to be absorbed by soft earth.

The offending branch was about an inch in diameter and measured nearly seven feet in length, sticking up from my friend's body like a spear. There was no question as to why Estel could not move. Even a slight shifting of his position would conjure enough pain to make it feel as if his leg was being sliced in half.

"Estel," I whispered tentatively, immediately coming to kneel beside him. Now that I was closer I could see that he was pale and shivering from the cold. It was horrible, yet at the same time it was simply a relief to see, as well as hear and know, that he was alive.

Estel lifted his gaze to look at me. His face was chafed and a nasty concussion stained his forehead and disheveled hair with crimson streaks. No doubt it was the reason he found it so trying to not stray into the blackness of unconsciousness. What sickened me was the terror and agony that filled his glazed eyes. It was perhaps more apparent there than in the manner in which he bore himself. The blue depths that were usually alight with kindness and a thoughtful wisdom were now marred by a pleading desolation. His normally gentle features were warped by anguish.

"Lego–" His rasping voice abruptly gave way to a fierce bout of coughing that left him noisily gasping for air.

"Shh," I soothed, instinctively running my fingers through his hair and cringing as they touched the liquid warmth of blood. "I am here, I am here."

Estel's breathing quieted to a labored wheezing. Minute tremors shook his chest.

His eyes finally focused on my face. "You're late," he stated plainly, mirth lacing his fatigued and pained voice.

I frowned. Late? "I am afraid that I–"

"Being an elf of considerable speed and…en-endurance, I…e-expected you…long ago," he explained faintly. Then he smiled, or rather, tried to, and took in my bedraggled state. "You look terrible," he added, his eyes sparkling, albeit rather dully.

Estel and I often exchanged teasing banter but…why now? I did not understand. He was in so much pain… I could see it quite plainly on his drawn features and in his strained eyes. Why would he joke now? I closed my eyes in realization. It was his way of fighting the fear and bodily torment. His way of keeping himself distracted.

Opening my mouth, I tried to think of something amusing to say but humorous words failed me. "I–" My throat was suddenly dry so I cleared it at tried to speak again. "I-I will work on treating your wounds. Do not worry, it will be all right." My voice was hollow.

"D-do not placate me with meaningless r-reassurances, Legolas," Estel managed to mumble. He was afraid for his life, then.

"I am not," I told him grimly, "I am placating myself." And I was. For though I had so far noticed no life-threatening wounds and was reasonably sure of my friend's eventual complete recovery, words like 'it will be all right' served little purpose to someone in as much pain as Estel was in right now. For it no doubt felt like he was dying.

Estel laughed shakily. It was a strange, clipped, unnatural sound. This was not the time for levity after all, no matter how much it might serve to divert my friend's attention from his current situation. "How bad is it?" he asked fearfully.

I bit my bottom lip for a moment before answering. I hated hearing the uncertainty and vulnerability in his voice. How could this be the same person that had so diligently stood by me through my trials of grief and despair after Endanlel's passing? "Probably much less serious than it is painful, but I cannot be sure of anything until I finish examining you," I responded truthfully. "I will have to…remove the branch," I added after a moment, hesitant to even mention it.

Estel nodded, exhaustedly allowing himself to sag back onto the forest floor. It was becoming harder for him to remain conscious but he seemed slightly more at ease. He was obviously still feeling a great deal of discomfort but my presence seemed to relieve his turmoil and…

Suddenly, Estel stirred and fixed surprisingly alert eyes on me. "It is g-growing harder to con-concentrate. You… You should …clean and bandage by…concussion first and then…examine me for further…injuries."

An embarrassed flush stained my cheeks. He was right, of course. Even with my limited medicinal knowledge, I should have realized that. The trauma to his head was more dangerous than the other wounds he had suffered. I had merely allowed myself to become distracted by the surprising grotesqueness of the spear-like branch, and by my relief that he was alive. The danger had not yet passed though. Depending on how serious the head wound was, the life could still fade from him.

"Do…not worry," Estel added, seeing my humiliation, "It is…all right. J-just hurry, please."

"Of course," I agreed quietly. Too quietly. Anxiety abruptly coursed through me. A chance still remained that I could lose him, that I would have to watch him die, just like Endanlel. How could it not have worried me before? All that blood on his forehead and matted in his hair? He had even told me that his vision was fading, how could that not have alarmed me?

Please, I pleaded silently, Please let him be all right. Please do not take him from me. I could not bear the thought of him passing from this world. Not now, not so soon. If he died, I would miss him terribly. And how would I tell Lord Elrond and the twins? He had been both son and brother to them, how would I find the words to tell them that Estel was gone?

By the Valar, what was I thinking? Perhaps the agony I had lived through in regards to Endanlel's fall was clouding my judgment. How could I be thinking of what would happen if Estel died when I had as of yet no reason to believe that he would not survive? I had to examine the severity of the concussion without allowing fear and worry to rule me.

I could not help the deep sigh of relief that escaped my lips. Estel would be all right. Though I lacked the skill of Lord Elrond and even that of his foster son, I was able to determine that the concussion was not terribly serious. Painful, undoubtedly, but not life-threatening. I had also carefully removed all the branches, leaves, and supplies that my friend was entrenched in until all that was left was the branch that remained plunged in his thigh. This had allowed me to examine my friend for other wounds. In addition to the ones I had already discovered on first sight, Estel had suffered three broken ribs and a twisted ankle. Nothing terribly serious.

He had been fortunate. It could have been much worse.

"Estel," I directed his wandering attention back at me, "All will be well; your wounds are not grave, especially considering…what happened."

I expected the news to be of great relief to him, but it was not. Not to the extent I thought it would be. Fear still filled his eyes, mostly unchecked. The edges of it were subdued but there was still…something. It was more than the nearly overwhelming pain and his now disproved fear of death. Far more than that. He was severely rattled and I now doubted he would feel completely calm until we were back in the safety of his home.

I averted my gaze from Estel's helpless form. I felt so powerless to comfort him. What could I do? What could I do besides assure him that he was not alone? For a moment I took his hand, held it tightly until he smiled his appreciation and nodded. Perhaps, it was enough.

I sighed. It was time to clean and bandage the concussion.

Being the son of a very skilled healer, Estel had been taught to always travel with a pack of bandages and healing herbs. I did not see it lying in the grass or perched in the tree. It most likely remained in his pack.

Jumping up, I grabbed hold of the lowest branch and used it to pull myself into the tree. My muscles were sore from the climb down the cliff but I ignored the pain and quickly set about retrieving the pack. As soon as I had it within my grasp, I leapt back down and emptied its contents onto the ground beside my now-quiet friend.

A medium-sized leather pouch fell into view. I grabbed it and peered inside. There were several rolls of sterile white cloths that could be used for cleaning wounds. A plethora of different-sized bandages were also stored there, as well as a variety of smaller bags, each labeled with the name of a different medicinal herb. Everything I needed for the rudimentary treatment of his wounds was here.

Satisfied, I set the pouch aside and quickly set about the treatment of Estel's head wound. To my joy, some of the color returned to my friend's features as I worked and he was more easily able to stay awake and alert after I finished. Though still in a great deal of pain, in seemed Estel was at least no longer battling the dark world of unconsciousness.

Sighing, I turned my attention back to the branch. A spear would have been simpler. This branch was jagged and I could tell the part embedded in Estel's body was just as bent as the rest of it. Pulling it free would increase the damage it had wrought on Estel, as well as aggravate the bleeding, but I had no choice. I had to treat any possible infection that the grimy branch might have started.

It would be best to remove it without warning, as Estel would undoubtedly tense up and make the extraction more painful than necessary. However, to ensure that Estel did not hurt himself in an instinctual reaction to the agony, I would have to put something in his mouth for him to clamp down on. Doing so would warn my friend I was ready to extract the branch.

Quickly, I found a piece of wood that was just about the right diameter to serve my needs. Then I tightly wrapped one of the white cloths around its surface. "Estel," I murmured, touching my friend's cheek.

Estel's gaze fixed on the branch I held, his acute mind immediately grasping my intent. His eyes widened, giving him an unbearably helpless air. He knew this was going to be painful. Sadly, I wondered if he was even capable of imagining just how searing an agony he was soon going to feel.

Taking a deep breath to try and soothe his nerves, Estel opened his mouth and I slipped the cloth-covered branch inside. Adjusting it so that his teeth bit securely into it, I skimmed my fingertips gently over his cheek in a gesture of silent support and comfort.

"I am sorry," I whispered, brushing my hand over his face to close his eyes. It would be best if he did not expect the exact moment of the removal. "Try and relax," I urged, rubbing my thumbs over his temples.

Estel made a visible effort to release his fear but he was still tumbling on the knife's edge of anxiety. I wanted to wait for him to calm down slightly but I knew that it would make no difference. The youth was frightened because he had never felt so much pain and because he had no conception of what to expect upon my extraction of the branch. Be it five minutes or five hours, no amount of time would still that fear.

Silently begging my friend for forgiveness, I took hold of the branch at a position about a foot above the point of entry. Then, tightening my grip, I pulled it free in one rapid move.

Estel tensed and screamed, a sound so loud it was not muffled by the cloth-covered branch in his mouth. It was a surprised, agonized sound so raw with emotion that it ripped my heart to shreds. It was a sound I would never forget and not soon forgive myself for. To have caused him so much pain, albeit unintentionally, was…sickening. Seeing and hearing Estel like this filled me with such bitter sorrow that I thought I would weep from it.

My friend's cry died into relative silence. His entire body was tightened and strained; he was practically convulsing with choked sobs. Fiercely clenched teeth bore into the branch in his mouth and his face was twisted and contorted in a grimace of anguish. A silent trail of tears traced the contours of his cheeks. His eyes were firmly shut and he was clawing at the ground with his left hand.

Estel's mouth worked to form words but they were distorted and stifled. Still, I knew what he had attempted to say. My name. He was calling out to me. Calling out to me in incomprehension at the terrible sensations overwhelming his body.

I covered his left hand with mine, stilling its frantic movements. "I am here, Estel. Shh. I am sorry, I am so sorry." Glancing at the branch I still held, I noted the bloody three-inch segment that had cut into my friend's body. It had a cruel twist right in the middle of it. Shaking my head regretfully, I cast the branch aside and instead placed my hand on Estel's hair. Gently, I smoothed the tangled locks back.

"My friend," I leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his brow. "My beloved friend. I am sorry. The pain will fade, though. I will take care of you." He gripped my fingers tightly. "I will take care of you."

Squeezing his hand, I thought that if I could, I would hold him. His body was so battered that it would no doubt only cause more pain than comfort, though. And I still had to bandage the gaping wound left by the branch, as well a set his broken arm and treat all the other abrasions he had suffered.

"Estel," I whispered remorsefully, "I must begin treating your wounds." Indeed, blood was already pouring from where the branch had been embedded. I gently caressed his cheek until his jaw slackened and I was able to remove the branch from his mouth. "Do you understand? Estel?"

"Y-yes, Legolas," he replied, his pain-laced voice nearly unrecognizable in its roughness. "Go…ahead and t-treat my…wounds… I will manage… Knowing you are here is…comforting."

Swallowing, I gave his fingers one last squeeze before releasing them. Suddenly, I wished for Estel's remarkable talent in storytelling. Then, I would be able to distract him from all this. I did not possess that talent though, and would have to make due without it.

"Do you remember how we first met, Estel?" I asked as I worked to clean the wound in his leg and slow the bleeding, knowing full well that I would not be able to stop it. That would fall to Lord Elrond.

"Of…course," he sounded confused, "After Endanlel's dea–"

"No," I interrupted him, "That is not of what I speak." I could not say why I had not told Estel of our relationship when he was but a child of four years, only that I had not seen fit to mention it until now.

"Tell me then," he requested tiredly, his curiosity not betrayed by the pain and fear that tainted his words.

Quietly, in the peaceful tones of one who hoped to soothe yet felt utterly useless, I told him of our first encounter. I wanted to offer him more comfort than the calming tenor of my voice but apparently I did well enough for Estel listened in rapt silence. His tears dried, his breathing slowly calmed and his pose relaxed. Occasionally, he would whimper or shudder in pain, but mostly, he gifted me with his full attention, either ignoring the agony of his wounds or simply allowing himself to be distracted from it. By the time I finished, I had succeeded in tapering the flow of blood and had proceeded to disinfect and bandage the wound.

Estel did not speak after my words faded into silence. I knew that later there would be questions. He would want to know why I had not told him of this before. He would want to know why I had not returned to Rivendell as I had promised. He would want to know a great many things and I would attempt to satisfy his curiosity. Now, though, he was in too much pain to formulate any queries.

"Are you feeling any better?" I paused to take his hand.

Estel nodded. "The…p-pain in my thigh has lessened…b-but I'm still so cold."

And frightened, I noted silently. The pain might have lessened but the fear hadn't. "You have a fever," I told him quietly, "I will wrap you in blankets as soon as I treat the rest of your wounds."

By the time I finished treating his injuries, creating a cast and setting Estel's arm, night had fallen and the warmth of the sun had faded. I had my friend bundled in five warm blankets but the chill of darkness only added to the coldness he already felt. He was shaking and his teeth were chattering and I had nothing left to pull over him.

"Le-Legolas," he whispered shakily, having been further weakened by the brutal pain the setting of his arm had caused, "H-how are we going to…re-return to Riven…dell?"

I froze. I had been so concerned with treating Estel's physical condition that I had failed to consider how that physical condition would hinder our return to his home. I instantly knew that it would be impossible for me to carry Estel back up the cliff. Bearing him far around the cliff until the terrain leveled out would take too long by myself. I would need the assistance of others.

"I will need help to bring you back to Rivendell," I told him what he surely already knew. "Alone, I would be able to return in a matter of–"

"No!" Estel yelled with surprising force, "You cannot leave me alone to go back for help!"

He sounded so scared. So desperate for the comfort of my presence. This entire experience had shaken him, upset his nerves. I understood that, but why so severely? He would be all right and he knew that, but that did not seem to diminish the pain and vulnerability he was feeling now.

"Shh," I clasped his hand to my chest, "No, of course not Estel. I would not leave you. I would never leave you here alone." A lifted his hand and placed a kiss to the back of his palm.

Estel subsided back into the relative warmth of his blankets, a grateful look lingering in his eyes.

"As I was saying, I would be able to return for help a matter of hours and, if they knew our exact position, Lord Elrond and others could arrive with help in a matter of hours. We have only to send them word of our plight."

"How will we do that?" he asked confusedly.

I smiled, "I will ask the trees to deliver a message for me."

Estel looked truly bemused.

"Help will be departing Rivendell shortly," I announced as I allowed myself to emerge from the communion I had established with the surrounding trees. Normally, experiencing a true union with the woods left me feeling peaceful and content. This connection had been different, however. With the sole purpose of delivering a message, I had kept the joining brief and not let myself become lost in the song of this old forest. I would no more leave Estel emotionally alone than I would physically.

Estel cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "You are sure?" He was still shivering but his words were steadier than before.

I smiled, "Yes, my friend, I am sure. I requested that the trees deliver a message to the lord of Imladris and they agreed."

He sighed resignedly. "I wish I could…understand."

"Perhaps someday you will."

He shook his head. "I doubt it, but it is…kind of you to say."

"You appear to be feeling better," I noted, pleased.

"No," he whispered, "I am…merely learning to…cope with the pain better." His teeth began to chatter again as soon as he had uttered the words.

Instinctively, I moved towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch any of the sensitive, bandaged wounds. "Perhaps if we share body heat," I suggested. "It…might also ease your…fear."

Estel glanced at me sharply. This was the first time I had mentioned how frightened I knew him to be. "I…simply…" He faltered and shook his head helplessly.

I held up a hand to silence him. "You needn't explain if it makes you uncomfortable. Tell me when you are ready."

I was gifted with a thankful smile in return but I was surprised when it suddenly wavered. When I looked into Estel's eyes, I was concerned to see them shimmering with unshed tears.

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed.

Estel did not answer.

"Is it your concussion?"

He shook his head.

"Your leg or one of your other wounds?"

"No, Legolas," he pulled away from my touch. "You have been…most kind to me. It is…m-more than I deserve."

I frowned at this. "Estel, you deserve all the kindness that remains in my heart. I do not understand your words."

"I-I am sorry…Legolas." His voice broke, but this time it was not from pain or even fear. Instead, it was…guilt?

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Ignoring his obvious desire for physical distance, I reestablished contact between us by placing my hand against his cheek.

"Have you not w-wondered…at the b-bout of…dizziness that struck me down from the…side of the c-cliff?" He questioned, closing his eyes to break eye contact.

Truthfully, I had not. "No…I was too concerned with taking care of you."

Judging by the shame that momentarily flashed across Estel's face like fleeting streaks of moonlight, I had chosen the wrong words to say.

"It…was not the first time I…experienced such disorientation," he admitted almost pleadingly, asking me with his tone and manner not to be angry with him. "I am sorry. I…I should have told you I have not been…feeling well."

I froze and withdrew my hand from his face, causing Estel to open his eyes and meet my gaze. In the enchanting blue depths I read a desperate need for forgiveness, one that was perhaps amplified Estel's pain and fear.

He had not been feeling well? Since when? "Explain that."

"I have…not been sleeping and I l-lost my appetite. I felt…dizzy when I…watched the sunrise this morning." Estel subconsciously leaned towards my hand, which still lingered in the air above his face but then caught himself and sank back into his bundle of blankets.

He had lied to me, I realized, feeling a coldness of the spirit overtake me. "You were awake all night, weren't you?" I questioned nearly emotionlessly, "And you didn't eat breakfast at all this morning, did you?"

"You are correct…on both counts," he confessed brokenly.

I sighed and closed my eyes. The fool had put his own life in danger. Climbing down the side of a cliff was not something to be done lightly. It was dangerous. Once mistake, one misplaced foot or weakly tied knot and death was certain. How could Estel have even attempted it knowing he was not well? What if he had fallen from a greater distance? He would have been killed!

I wanted to be angry with him for lying to me and endangering his life, but looking at his beaten and battered body, I couldn't. "You lied to me," I said, and I did not sound angry. I sounded hurt. Considering the stricken look on Estel's face, having caused me pain was worse than the prospect of having angered me. I wished I could erase the hurt from my tone, for Estel's sake but even if I could keep it from saddening my voice, I could not keep it from darkening my eyes.

"Yes," he spoke so softly I barely heard the word. "I am sorry, Legolas," he apologized. "My…my intention was not to…hurt you."

People rarely ever meant to hurt those they cared for, but it seemed to happen a great deal anyway. "Then what was your intention? Why did you lie to me? Why did you not tell me you had fallen ill?"

He sighed. "I was overjoyed because you were happy for once…so when I started feeling unwell, I did not want to tell you. I did not want to…ruin your mood."

I swallowed, feeling suddenly guilty. He had done it for me. He was always willing to do so much for me. "Oh, Estel," my hurt faded and I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You would not have ruined my mood. I would have been happy to care for you until your health returned."

Estel appeared relieved to see that my pain had faded and that I was not annoyed with him. "I should not have lied."

"No," I agreed, "You should not have. Do you realize how dangerous it was to attempt the climb while feeling ill?"

"I do now," he responded dryly. "I just… I just…did not think anything would happen." His tone bore the seriousness of death. Finally, he admitted the primal reason for the fear that gripped him.

I understood now, grasped the source of his turmoil. I had actually experienced something similar, long ago, when I was young and overly impulsive. It was difficult, the first time one was severely wounded. I remembered the feeling of utter helplessness well. It was a jarring dose of reality to realize that one was not invincible. Which was exactly what had happened today to Estel. He had thought that nothing would ever happen to him. He understood that people were wounded frequently but had believed himself to somehow be beyond that. Now, he knew he could be just as easily struck down as anyone else and that frightened him.

I smiled sadly. To feel oneself invulnerable to peril was a folly of the young, and Estel was quite young, after all, and not impervious to making foolish errors in judgment. Very foolish errors in judgment. "No one ever does. In the beginning. It is a harsh realization but it has its advantages. You will learn and be more careful about such things."

He nodded forlornly. "I have always known that…eventually, I will…die. It was…difficult to accept, having grown among your immortal kin, but I thought I had. I was…wrong. I comforted myself by saying…that it was something on a…distant horizon, something not to be faced for many…many years. Now…it seems so…"

The whispered words trailed off into silence but I knew what he had stopped himself from saying. "Real," I finished for him. "Now, it seems so real."

He swallowed and closed his eyes.

"Estel," I ran my fingers across his cheek, "death is not something to be feared. It is merely the end of one journey and the commencement of another."

"Yet your kin, lest struck down by tragedy, will never embark on that journey." The words could have been entrenched with bitterness but they were not. They were a sad statement of fact.

"I am aware of that," I acknowledged. I did not know what else to say. Death was not a foreign concept to my people but neither was it the looming certainty of mortals. I could not pretend to understand what Estel must feel, knowing that no matter what course he stayed he would eventually fade from this world. Thus was the price of mortality. It had no shield against death.

Estel sighed heavily but his mood seemed lightened somehow. Perhaps it had eased his conscious to tell me he had lied to me. Perhaps confessing the source of his fears had lifted some of the weight from his heart. Perhaps my understanding had helped. Whatever the reason, I was glad to see some of the heartbreaking fear leave his gaze.

"Do not lie to me again," I requested after a few moments of silence.

"I will not," he promised.

"Good," I smoothed back the tangled locks of his hair, "Thank you for telling me the truth. Have you experienced any dizziness since your fall?"

He shook his head, "Only disorientation d-due to…my concussion. Do not…worry. I have been…infected with this…sickness before. It is…quite common in Rivendell. Perhaps you have…heard of it… Imphilias."

Yes, I had indeed heard of it. Imphilias was a temporary ailment that affected its victim with bouts of dizziness, loss of appetite, and occasionally, headaches and a fever. "You are sure it was Imphilias and not something more serious?"

"Yes… I seem to have a…w-weakness for the illness. I have…contracted it several times since child-childhood." He pulled the blankets more firmly around him and tried to huddle into their warmth.

"Come, I will hold you for warmth." Without giving him a chance to reply, I lithely slipped inside the covers and settled myself beside him. Then I extended my arms and pulled him close to me, my fingers dancing across bruises that caused my friend to grimace and gasp for breath.

"I am sorry," I apologized, preparing to withdraw.

"No…" he protested. "Please…your touch is…soothing."

Nodding, I gently held him against me. "Good."

"Now what?" he questioned momentarily.

"Now…we wait," I rubbed my hands soothingly over his back, "Try not to worry. I will take care of you until Lord Elrond arrives with help." I will always take care of you.

Estel smiled against me, having heard what I left unspoken. "I know," he murmured. Finally, he relaxed. Completely relaxed in my embrace. Maybe he knew that he would come to terms with this realization that no shield existed that protected him from harm. Or maybe it simply made him feel safer to know that I would do my best to always look out for him. Such was the loyalty I already felt for this man.

THE END