Disclaimer- See previous chapters. Same thing as before.
"NOOOOOOO!" yelled Thranduil as he saw his youngest slump forward. "Please don't leave me! I've only just found you again!"
The brothers just stood by each other, stunned by the events of that day. They couldn't grasp the fact that not only was their little brother alive, he was also not so little anymore.
Thranduil gazed around the room yelling for healers. Elves swarmed forward to assist the dying prince but Thranduil pushed them away, grasping his youngest in his arms and running for the Healing Rooms, or where he hoped they still were.
Calarian and Eldran remained in the hall, being swarmed by their former warriors.
"We thought you were dead!" exclaimed one enthusiastically.
"How did you escape Sartarian's wrath?" cried another.
The two brothers just glanced at each other before Eldran said, "Mellyn nin, we really need to go and see if our youngest brother has survived."
"Of course!" the elves exclaimed and pushed the two brothers towards the open doors. They rushed out and to the houses of healing, where they knew their father would be.
Thranduil eased his youngest gently onto the bed and stared at the healer, praying that he would be able to save his youngest. The healer checked Legolas' vitals before staring at the King with tear-filled eyes.
"I'm sorry, your Majesty, but the most we can do for him now is to make his passing a peaceful one."
The King was heartbroken. "No! I will not let that evil elf win again and take my son away from me! I have only just found him again!" Eldran dashed into the room followed swiftly by Calarian.
"How is he, Ada?" Eldran whispered. Thranduil's head raised slowly and Calarian gasped at his father's tear-filled eyes.
"We can't lose him now! Please you must do something!"
"Peace, Prince Calarian. There is nothing we can do, save a miracle from occurring." The healer said gently.
They all turned to see Legolas lying on the bed that was slowly turning red with his blood. No-one spoke. All were watching the glow surrounding the prone form grow ever dimmer. The steady breathing became more sporadic and laboured.
Eventually the glow diminished and Thranduil bit back the tears that threatened to fall down his face. Eldran sat by the bedside holding one of his brother's hands, tear streaks visible in the fading light. So much had happened in the space of one day.
They had regained their freedom and their kingdom and Sartarian had been killed. The had seen their little brother be the warrior they thought he was, but was now leaving them forever to join with their mother.