Reviewer responses:

Lili: Hehe…yeah, I was updating quickly, but I am going to try to update every day for the rest of the story. I hope I can do it because I am nearing the end anyway. Kind of…

Mornflower: Yeah, they do find trouble and odd ways in which to get hurt. I'm tired of the usual hurts, but I always seem to revert to arrows. Ah well. Your father talked with you about torture, huh? Interesting. I never had that conversation with mine!! Glad you liked 3 and 4.

Beling: Ah Unglisen. Such a short scene, but I wanted people to think of her as something you don't mess with. A smart spider. I will have to come back to her later perhaps.

HarryEstel: Yeah, I couldn't even get to the posts I put up the other day. I managed to coax it to let me see them, even when I first got chapter does not exist messages. I just kept putting the number up in the address and hitting enter until it cooperated.

Joee1: Hey there! Don't worry about not reviewing all the chapters, you DID review which is something! Yeah, I haven't written the discussion chapter yet. You'll see why! Further trouble huh…from elves in Mirkwood…? You'll see that too now!

Coolio02: Thanks for the reviews. Glad you liked and yeah, the big spider…I hate spiders, but I had to use her, she was in the back of my mind for a while now.

Apsenniel: Glad you liked it.

InsanePirate624: Yeh, was not working properly for a while there. But hopefully it's up and running now! Yeh, I was tired of an evilThranduil the whole story. So I decided he would put his love of Legolas above all. But I do have a yelling scene I think. I haven't written it, I am thinking of doing it though. We'll see.

Deana: Yeah, he didn't. But I think later he will have to wonder about this man.

KeshieShimmer: Blind leading the blind…I like that! That is kind of what it was.

Shadowfax2931: Hey, good to see you. Glad you like it. Oh, well sorry about the email problems. No I haven't gotten anything from you. But I will keep checking. Thanks for reading.

Losing Grip: Glad you are liking this story! Here's your update!

At first, Estel was aware of the sweet smell of herbs. Then he was aware of the brightness of the sun filtering into the room. Lastly, he was aware of the insistent tug on his sleeve.

"Wake up, sleepy head. You have been sleeping for three days, Estel! My wounds are nearly closed and you need to wake up and face my father with me!"

Legolas was perched on the side of Estel's bed, his hand wrapped protectively around his middle, but no sign of pain on his face.

The healers were watching the interaction with great interest. These same Elves had taken care of a near-fatally wounded young Legolas when the Elf had come back carrying his mother's mutilated body.

That time, he had been muttering about men and how he hated them and how he would seek revenge. But those words had been spoken in delirious, fever-induced rage.

Legolas was a bright and kind soul and he had never taken out his anger on any man. He had simply withdrawn from the world, held his anger inside and not spoken of the incident again.

His father, they suspected, knew the truth of what had happened that day, but few others did. They were intrigued that he had befriended this scraggly human boy. The human didn't look a day over 30, to an Elf, that was a mere boy.

But Legolas seemed to get along with him well, perhaps better than he had gotten along with his old friends in years.

"I like the change I see in him," Bardon, the head healer, said to no one in particular as he gazed at the mirth in the Prince's eyes. "I have not seen him this happy in a while. Perhaps it takes the human race to break him and the human race, again, to make him whole."

Estel stirred now and they waited to see if he would be fully awake this time. Legolas had tried this tactic a day earlier, but the man had still been far too delirious to know what was going on around him.

"Legolas? Stop tugging on my sleeve…" Estel muttered, his eyes opening, then closing again at the sudden onslaught of light.

Legolas laughed. "Seems like you are really awake this time, mellon nin!" he called out, not realizing that he was treating the human as he would any Elven friend.

Estel, for his part, didn't notice either. He fully opened his eyes, squinting, and was able to make out Legolas leaning over him. "You look a little blurry," he said with a sigh. "I suppose that will go away when I wake up the rest of the way?"

The Elf laughed and stood. "Yes. The healers were able to find an antidote for you and my father sent word to Imladris that you are here and doing well."

The man huffed at that. "Well? If this is your definition of well I'd hate to see you unwell, dear Prince."

Legolas laughed again and glanced to the healers. "Can he get up?"

They nodded, but Estel thought otherwise. "Get up, Legolas? I barely woke up and you want me to get up? Everything I hear about wood-Elves is true. You are full of energy and must never need sleep."

For his part, Legolas was full of energy. He hadn't felt so good in a while. He felt whole again. Like a weight had been lifted from his heart when he had learned to trust and admire men again. At least this man. He hoped his intuitions were correct and Estel was not the only one of his kind to be thus.

He laughed when Estel flung his feet over the side of the bed and slumped to the ground, then yelped when he felt the cold stone under his bare feet.

"Where are my boots?" he asked, now realizing that he was barefoot, like Legolas, and wearing the clothing of the wood-Elves.

"Those filthy garments of yours have been taken to the cleaners, young man," Bardon said, coming over. Estel shrank back, looking fearfully at Legolas.

But Bardon was intuitive. "You have nothing to fear from me, Estel of Imladris. I do not, nor did I ever, harbor the feelings of my people toward men. I grieved for the loss of my queen and the near loss of our prince, but I never hated your kind."

Legolas shied away at the look Estel gave him. Bardon realized he had given away information to the man that the prince must not have volunteered.

He knew what part too.

"Legolas, you must put that behind you. It was not your fault and you were gravely injured trying to save her."

Estel's head snapped up. He couldn't help it. "You…" but he said no more. "We will not speak of it. You do not want to."

He didn't ask the prince, he stated it. He knew that Legolas didn't want to speak of what had transpired with his mother and he wanted the prince to know that he did not mind not knowing. He would be content with what the prince told him.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," Legolas said. He smiled again. "Let's go outside. I must show you the beautiful gardens of the palace. There are none like it in all of Middle-Earth, not even the gardens of Rivendell can stand up to them I have heard."

He extended a hand to Estel.

The man looked at the Prince, saw the trust and sincerity in his eyes, reached forward and grasped the hand.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Estel and Legolas spent hours in the garden each day as they both recovered from their wounds.

To the surprise of everyone, Legolas had taken to the man and was seldom seen apart from him. Rumors abounded throughout the kingdom about the man who had wended his way into their prince's heart.

And a lot of the talk branded Estel as a wizard; one who had cast a spell on Legolas and made him accept him. The people of the forest fathomed all sorts of wicked schemes the man could be cooking up, including that he was tied to the men who had killed the Queen all those years ago.

But none of these thoughts or rumors reached either Legolas, Thranduil, Estel or the palace workers. In essence, those who needed to know did not.

"So Legolas? Are you ever going to tell me more about you in your past? I mean, I've told you just about every story I have to offer, including all the embarrassing ones."

Estel was lounging on a bench in the East Garden, idling twirling a pine cone between his thumb and forefinger. He had tried to get Legolas to speak of his past before, but had been thus far unsuccessful.

He heard the familiar sigh and the lurch of the bench Legolas had been sitting on. The Prince had stood and was now pacing. As usual.

Estel could tell he desperately wanted to speak to him, but that Legolas was still not entirely comfortable with what had happened to him.

And the man couldn't blame him. From what he had culled from serving staff, the Prince had come back carrying his murdered mother and collapsed just inside the gates of the palace.

He had been young, the equivalent of 13 in human years, and he was grievously wounded. For many days the healers thought they would lose the Prince. And when his body had mended, his mind and heart had not, so they fought still to keep him in the world of the living.

Thranduil, for his part, pushed away the feelings of sorrow and heart-wrenching grief he felt at the death of his wife and he saw only Legolas. The King neglected the court duties of the royal house, but no one blamed him. He rarely left the healing ward, but no one blamed him.

Instead, his loyal councilors took up his duties and ran the kingdom while Thranduil worked fervently to draw Legolas back from the brink of death.

The King wouldn't have been able to go on if his son had given in to his grief. The elder Elf would have died from his own grief.

Estel now, hundreds of years later, was trying still to get Legolas to speak of what had happened. But he had had no luck so far.

"Legolas?"

The Prince looked at the man, a haunted look in his eyes. He had been playing the scene of his mother's death over and over in his mind again. But he never let it out.

"I have told you all I can," Legolas answered, turning away.

"Perhaps all you think you can, Legolas. But definitely not all you can and not all you should. Keeping it bottled up for all these years could still kill you."

He hadn't meant to sound patronizing, but the hard look he got from the Prince led him to believe that was how he had come off.

"I've only known you a few weeks, Estel. I've never even spoken of that time to my oldest friends. My father is the sole recipient of that knowledge. What makes you think you deserve to hear it?"

Estel frowned. "Why do I deserve to hear it? Why? I'll tell you why, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Because I too saw a parent murdered. Two in fact. My mother and father were killed before my very eyes by Orcs who raided our camp. I was a small child, but those things burn themselves into your memory and you can see, taste, smell, feel and hear them as if they happened only yesterday. I know what you felt and still feel. And I know you need to speak of it."

The man's eyes widened when he finished his rather loud outburst. He hadn't meant to say that. He hadn't meant to tell this strange Elf all that. But somehow, now that he had, it felt right.

Legolas didn't move. It looked like he was hardly breathing, for that matter. His eyes were riveted to Estel and his hands were clenched at his sides.

He was on the verge of something.

"I…I…Estel," he stuttered. "Why didn't you tell me?" It was an instinctive reaction. He didn't think before he spoke, didn't think that he was asking Estel what Estel had been asking him. If he hadn't ventured the same information, why should Estel have? But that hadn't crossed the Elf's mind in his shock at the news.

Huffing, Estel stood up and crossed his arms across his chest. "Why should I have told you? You didn't tell me! What, because you're a Prince do you think that makes you special? Do you think that means I have to tell you these things when you won't trust me with the same knowledge of your own past?"

He stalked away from Legolas, leaving a very confused blonde Elf in his wake. For a moment, Legolas didn't move. Couldn't move really. He was rooted to the spot in shock.

Estel knew what he was feeling? He had lived through the same situation? And I treated him like just another person trying to drag the story out of me. Maybe he needs this as much as I do?

"Estel! Wait!" He cried, hurrying off in the direction the man had went. He didn't see Estel and he wondered just how fast the man could travel.

Then, he heard an alarmed shriek. "Wait!"

Legolas, recognizing the voice, veered off to the left in the direction he had heard the shriek. Estel sounded like he had been in trouble. But what could threaten him here?

The people do not trust men, Legolas! The Prince chided himself. He never should have let Estel out of his sight!

Rounding a large weeping willow tree, whose hanging leaves and branches had obscured Estel from Legolas' sight, the Elf was greeted with a scene that made his heart leap into his throat.

There was an arrow protruding from Estel's right leg, which the man had a strong grip on from his position on the ground, and another notched and pointed at his chest.

A ring of five Elves were surrounding the man and all had looks in there eyes that were easy to read. Hatred. It was unusual to see such anger on the features of the Firstborn. They were by nature peaceful here in Mirkwood.

"No!" Cried the Prince, running forward.

He reached the ring of Elves just as the arrow was fired, and before he fully realized what he was doing, Legolas launched himself into Estel, knocking him to the ground.

The man shouted his own warning to the Elf, something akin to "don't", but Legolas hadn't heard him, or if he had, he hadn't heeded him.

Estel heard the unmistakable "thwump" of an arrow imbedding itself in flesh, but he didn't feel any pain besides his previous arrow wound.

Legolas fell heavily on top of him.

The Prince, not entirely sure what had just transpired, moved to push himself up with his arms on either side of Estel.

But the moment he tried, there was a searing pain in his back and he cried out and collapsed down again.

Estel gulped at the sudden weight hitting him again, but he realized there must be a reason Legolas was still atop him.

"Legolas?" He whispered, reaching toward the Elf's chest to push him upward and off him. His hands met with damp fabric. Pulling them back, he found them coated in blood. Elvish blood. "No!" He shouted, rousing Legolas back to full awareness.

"Es…Estel? Are you all right?" he muttered, again attempting to raise himself, only to crash back down with another cry. "I…I can't get up."

The man, knowing his friend was wounded, eased him up, but didn't roll him over. The Elves around them were suddenly in motion, finally regaining their senses.

"Your highness!" Cried the one who had fired the arrow. "I'm sorry. That was not meant for you! I only meant to dispatch the edan!"

Legolas couldn't answer. Estel, who had wormed his way out from under the Prince, immediately turned his attention to his friend.

He gasped.

A beautifully fletched arrow it was. But to him it was ugly. One of the most ugly things he had seen. Protruding from Legolas' back, directly between his shoulder blades, the arrow was ugly to Estel.

Realizing what had happened only made matters worse for the Elf. Pain suddenly ripped through him and Legolas let out another sharp cry. But he was rapidly careening toward darkness and was unable to move.

Estel fingered the tunic around the wound, trying to ascertain just what type of arrow it was. Then, he remembered the one who fired it.

"Do you barb your arrow tips?" he called out loudly.

The Elf didn't answer at first, still shocked that he had shot his Prince in the back in the palace gardens. He knew he was in serious trouble.

"DO YOU?" Estel shouted, furious at the Elves for the pain and harm they had caused the Prince.

"No…no!"

Estel didn't wait for anything else. He held Legolas still and pulled. The Elf screamed this time, but Estel pushed it from his mind.

Instead, he immediately tore a large section from his tunic and pressed down on the wound, bringing a moan from his friend.

"Easy does it Legolas," he soothed quietly in the Grey Tongue. "We have been through this before. I will not lose you this time."

But the Elf was already unconscious.

A/N: Okay, a cliffie, I know. But I have to think just how I want to work the next chapter. It should be up tomorrow, but if I dont like what I comeup with....you might need to wait a bit longer. I'll do my best. Thanks for reading everyone!