Author: Estelrond

Disclaimer: The words are mine, the elves aren't

Warnings and all that good stuff can be found in Chapter one. I appreciate reviews though. I'm a feedback junkie. (Plus, if you don't, I'll send my assassin elves after you.)

I have to give a hug to Sio and Carol, my most faithful reviewers; I don't think they've missed a chapter! You rock, ladies!

Trinka- Thanks for sticking with me. I know I'm just a confuzzled little girl, but you tolerate me anyway.

San, Claudia, Any, Morwen and Sa… my world wouldn't be the same without you…NO, REALLY! hugs

The rest of this story can be found at (reviews there are nice as well)

My EXTREME apologies for the lateness of this post, but my schedule has been AWFUL! (understatement) And right now, I'm sick…it's not fun. Oh well, enjoy.

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Part Sixteen

A Healer You've Become

"No one shall die here tonight, nor shall any die tomorrow." Farlest's soft voice cut the stillness. He had once again materialized out of the air and Farqwen started slightly, caught off his guard at his brother's mysterious appearance. He was also most distressed by the fact that his brother held him at sword-point. There was also a large, snarling red wolf at his side.

"There is no need for death, brother mine." Then he smiled and bent closer, "Unless of course you do something stupid that I deem deserves such."

Farqwen knew his older brother quite well, and his skills were legendary. Placing his palm on Farlest's blade he moved it away from his nose. "I am no fool, brother. And should we not be allies? Why do you threaten me?" his voice turned soft and pleading, and to Aragorn, who still lay pinned under the elf's knee, even he could see no reason to threaten the other elf…but then the spell was broken.

The raven-haired elf laughed mirthlessly, "Even Adar cannot sway me like that. You are quite petty. I did not doubt for one moment that you needed to be threatened. Your spell must not have been a strong one…or perhaps you have become lax?"

The dark elf made as if to lunge at the other elf, but a growl from 'Ros caused him to shy away. Aragorn gasped for air as the pressure on his lungs was removed.

"Since when have the forest creatures been fighting for you?" the midnight-clad elf crouched before his brother, dagger in hand.

'Ros looked at Farlest, Pffft! He sniffed indignantly, Forest creature. If this brother of yours cannot be any more discerning than that I wonder why we really bother with him. I'm getting the compulsive urge to tear his throat out. The wolf snarled viciously.

"'Ros curb your temper my friend. Your wrath may be legendary but I really want my little brother in one piece. Even if the feeling's not widespread." The elf sent a warning look downwards. He really did not have any wish to be in this situation, and even though his blood was boiling he had no wish for bloodshed. He had loved Farqwen dearly when they were younger, he had been a protective guardian over his little brother, but then…he sighed disgustedly, his family had gotten in the way. No. His mother had.

It had been very hard on him, as he had seen his little brother's eyes turn hard, and his warm smile turn cold. He had loved all his siblings dearly. Though the others were now lost to them. One was better off on his own, and the other had been missing since a few years after his birth. His was a dysfunctional family…but he never for a moment had thought it would come to this.

He looked at the sword in his hand as if it were a poisonous viper that would recoil and strike him down. Why did this have to be?

"Drop your weapon, Farqwen. I do not wish to strike you down."

The silence was deafening as identical green eyes attempted to stare one another down. One filled with anger, the other with a sad…almost bitter… expression.

The younger elf's lips turned back in a fierce snarl as his weapon clattered to the stony ground. "This round is yours brother, but I warn you, I do not like loosing."

A bit of the old feeling came back to Farlest, as he could not resist replying, "I don't like to loose either, brother. That's why I always win…in the end."

Farqwen rose slowly, keeping his hands away from his body, where his brother could see them, "It doesn't have to be this way, Farlest. We could be fighting on the same side."

The black haired elf gave him a small, sad, smile. "Yes, brother. We might. But it would have to be my side, and that I do not see, as joyful as the prospect is, coming to pass. You know I cannot fight for the same reasons I once did. We have not lived honorable lives, you and I. Maybe perhaps someday I might atone for some of the hideous wrongs committed, but I do not see it." Then his eyes hardened again, "But I hope to make up for some of my mistakes tonight. 'Ros, watch him for me will you?"

The wolf bobbed his head in assent as Farlest made his way over to where Legolas lay on the ground. He was still tied at the wrists and ankles, and shivering uncontrollably. His body was wracked with chills and spasms of intense pain as the poison worked its way through his system. As soon as he touched the prince, opening his mind to the other's, the dark-haired elf knew that, without his help, his gift, the wood elf would not live through the night.

He swore under his breath. Complications were everywhere.

He took out his dagger and released the elf. Moving to the ranger he repeated the procedure. The man's eyes were flinty and his stance and pose told Farlest that the ranger was enraged. Complications galore…

"Why are you helping us?" the Aragorn's voice was soft, but the elf could feel the dark current of anger running beneath it. But then, Farlest thought, the man had no reason to trust him, no reason at all. Especially now that his friend was dying because of Farqwen, and why would you trust the brother of a killer? Ah, but was Farqwen truly a killer? No…he was misguided, but…oh he had been so different. It had been Farlest who had grown hard. He had been the killer. And he had done his job well. That is, save for the last time he had ever called the slaughter of innocent beings a mission. He had failed by choice. And now…he had the chance to spare again, the life of the blue-eyed elf whose youthful terror had moved him so that he had laid his weapon down, and swore never again to raise it in such manner again. The elf had shown him a different side of life. He had thought the prince dead and had been astounded when 'Ros had told him the truth.

And now that elf lay dying at his feet.

"I help because it is the least I can do." He turned on the man, "Make no mistake, Heir of Isildur, I do not help because of you." He knelt beside the stricken prince and took the wood-elf's hand in his own, "I help because I owe your friend a debt I cannot repay." Then he smiled softly, placing a hand on Legolas' forehead, "Perhaps someday I will…"

The prince moaned, semi-conscious and not comprehending the situation, and tried to push Farlest away, but the healer would not be moved.

Opening himself to the other's body, and was immediately assaulted with multifarious sensations. The radiant energy of the prince's life force, the brilliant light of his fëa, the sharp, burning sting of his wounds, and…. there, the sickening, creeping misery that was the poison in the immortal's blood.

In an instant, Farlest realized that healing the injured elf without significant harm to himself was an impossibility, the poison was too far along and his wounds too severe. Farqwen had done his job well; curse him.

Breaking the link he had established with Legolas, the raven-haired elf handed his sword to Aragorn, who was watching him like a hawk. "Watch my brother."

"What for? Isn't that what the wolf is supposedly doing?" The ranger had decided that he wasn't going to go anywhere. He did not trust this elf as far as he could throw him, and he seriously doubted that he would be able to even so much as pick him up.

Farlest's face was grim, "I'm going to need his help if your friend is to live." Aragorn opened his mouth to argue, but the elf held out a hand to silence him. "If he is to have a chance, there is no time to lose."

With one last suspicious glance at the raven-haired elf, the man moved over to stand beside Farqwen. 'Ros joined Farlest at Legolas' side, What is your need?

"I can't save him without killing myself. I'm going to need your support if we are all to live through this." He met the serious gaze of the wolf, "It's risky, and it will weaken you. I won't do this unless you are certain you wish it."

But the red-furred animal only nodded solemnly, putting his paw on Farlest's knee, he waited silently beside his friend. Farqwen and Aragorn studied them with curiosity, and the minions of the elven mage only waited in the shadows, unsure of their part in the drama that unfolded before them. Neither the orcs or the men had made a move; and some had slunk away into the night, not feeling enough loyalty to the cause to risk their own necks now that the odds had fallen away from their master's favor.

Farlest knelt, his head bowed, his hand on the chest of the Mirkwood Prince. 'Ros standing faithfully beside him, when, of a sudden, a strange, warm light seemed to flow from the Noldo's fingertips.

He concentrated on the poison. He felt the wounds in the elf's back, and found that they were not life threatening. Legolas would have to heal those on his own as Farlest did not wish to drain 'Ros or himself to that extent. He concentrated on the poison, that roiling, seething darkness that permeated the wood elf's bloodstream.

The light reached out, and burned away the spreading shadow that was swiftly killing the prince of Mirkwood. He sought it out wherever it was, breaking out in a light sweat, his eyes clenched tightly shut and jaw set in concentration. 'Ros was panting as he tired as well, feeding the healer his strength. Whilst the others watched, drawn into the strange scene before them.

The night became deathly still.

At last, the creases in Farlest's brow smoothed, and he drew away. He breathed deeply, trying to slow his racing heart, he could see darkness crowding on the edges of his vision, but he could not pass out, not now. He could not…would not…show that kind of weakness in front of the present company.

'Ros, nearly as tired as his friend, whined softly, putting his massive head in the elf's lap. Farlest stroked the wolf's muzzle absently.

Then Legolas stirred…

Aragorn, forgetting all else, ran forward, throwing himself down next to his friend, "Legolas?"

The prince blinked blearily at him, "A-Aragorn?" He struggled to a sitting position, gritting his teeth to stifle a pain-filled moan. For though his life was no longer imperiled, his torn back throbbed fiercely. "What happened?" He demanded softly. When his gaze came to rest on Farlest, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "What is he doing here?"

'Ros cocked his head and shot a warning glare at the blonde elf. Aragorn placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "It's all right. He saved your life, mellon-nin." The ranger smiled at the two elves, "I believe we owe him an apology. I may have misjudged him."

The weary Farlest simply nodded his head in gratitude.

Good choice, young Dunadan. Sent 'Ros.

"It seems a shame to spoil the moment, brother," Hissed Farqwen, who, being momentarily forgotten had made good use of his time, retrieving his weapons, and rallying the remnant of his company. He pointed his sword at Farlest's throat, "surrender now and I won't kill you."

Farlest let his eyes slowly travel up the blade and beyond, his gaze finally coming to rest on the pair of green eyes that were so like his own,.

"Kill me then." He challenged softly.

To be continued…

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