"I will not go to Imladris"

Estel was nearly finished with his one-horse litter. He had ruthlessly taken the rest of Legolas' jerkin and cut it into many narrow strips. The poplar poles were just right: green and springy. The shape was simple—a long 'V' with space for Sadoreth to fit between at the narrow end, then spreading outward until it was about four feet wide at the bottom where it would drag on the ground. The width was important. Too narrow and the litter would have no stability and every rock or unevenness would turn it over; too wide and it would be too hard to pull and would not fit many of the narrow parts of the trail they must traverse. Thin branches covered the space between the main poles, forming a platform for the injured elf. Stronger pole sections crossed at intervals to stiffen the entire contraption. There! It was done.

Estel pulled the light framework into place and tied it on Sadoreth, who now seemed resigned to his new status as draft animal. He bid the horse to wait without moving until he returned. Then the boy turned and faced the cleft again. He drew a deep breath. The easy part was over; now to get the elf. He returned to the campfire and found Legolas staring off at nothing. He was wrapped in Estel's cloak as well as his own, but still looked cold.

"Are you ready? I have arranged fine transport for you."

"I am not going to Imladris."

"Apparently you enjoy having the same conversation over and over. I do not. I am reluctant to point this out, but there is little, short of harming me, that you can do to stop me. I do not think you will hurt me, so stop muttering 'I will not go to Imladris' and save your strength. You will not have a pleasant journey."

Estel had carefully tended the wound earlier and, using the best of the many branches he had brought, had re-splinted the leg. It was not a good arrangement for litter travel. The sharp bend he was maintaining in the limb meant that it would be excruciating for the elf to lie on his back. He would have to be on his side.

Estel again lifted the elf over his shoulder. He started down the passage and had to stop almost at once. There was no way he could fit the elf through like this. The bent leg stuck out too much. He would need some cooperation and was not at all sure he could get it.

He spoke to the head hanging down his back. "You will not fit. The passageway bends too sharply."

"Yes, I am aware of that. I can see bits of my skin on the passage behind us!"

"You must try to climb around and ride on my back as I did yours when I was a child. You will have to put your arms around my neck and let me hold one leg. The other one will not be very comfortable riding like that but it cannot be helped."

Legolas begged, "Estel, please take me back and let me fade here. You are a good friend. I honor how hard you are trying to save me. But, please, Estel…."

"Very well, I will do it myself." So saying, he began to shift the elf by inches. It was soon obvious that, without cooperation, at some point Legolas was going to hit the ground, with who knew what consequence to his leg.

"If you help me reposition you, you will be able to strangle me."

The elf's head was now at the boy's rump. "A pleasing thought. Also, I find that I do not want to fade upside down, looking at your backside. Here, see if you can grab my hand if I stretch this way…"

Together they slowly worked the elf around so that he was upright and hanging by his arms around Estel's neck. Legolas panted from the pain. Estel said nothing and got moving; the sooner they were out of here the better. But only a few yards further on they were stuck again.

"Slide down, Legolas. We are in here so tightly you can lean against the wall of this blasted place and not fall to the ground."

Legolas followed the instructions and eased himself down until he was standing on his good leg and holding onto Estel with one hand.

"Now what?"

Estel did not answer. He did not think the elf would care for his next idea. He took off the cloak he was wearing like a thick rope around his chest and shoulder and spread it on the ground.

"Lie down. I am going to have to drag you."

"You are right, Estel. You have convinced me. I will not fade. Life with you is so much more attractive than the Undying Lands."

"You do not do sarcasm well, Legolas. You must be sure to take lessons from Erestor. Now, lie down. I will help you."

Having no real choice, the elf allowed the human to take his arms and gently let him down to the ground.

"Brace the splinted leg with your good one. Here we go." Estel began to walk backward, dragging the irate elf over rock shards and uneven ground. The elf bit his cheek and tasted blood as he tried to keep from crying out. His wounded leg, in spite of the other one being under it, bounced roughly. Pain lanced through him with every short pull that Estel made. After a seeming eternity they made it through the passage.

Once outside, Legolas stared at Sadoreth and the litter. The boy had actually done a fair job under the circumstances, and normally the elf would have said so. But he was exhausted from the journey through the passage, and the idea of traveling for who knew how many days in agony was not appealing. He should have had more energy to protest; he must be fading indeed.

"Estel. This is far enough. You have gotten me out of that accursed hideaway and I thank you. If you take me to a little wood so that I may be amongst trees, I will thank you again. But I will go no further."

The boy hummed to himself as he brought Sadoreth around to line up the litter with Legolas' body. Before he had gone to fetch the elf he had tightly lashed their weapons and few belongings to the side of the litter. He laid his cloak on it so that when the elf lay there Estel could bring it up and over him, giving him a layer of warmth above and below. He lifted the elf in his arms, swung him around, and placed him on the litter.

Legolas rolled off onto the ground. He groaned with pain but managed to grind out, "I am not going to Imladris."

Estel stared at him as if he could not believe what the elf had done.

"I wish Ada had seen that. He would stop holding you up to me as a pattern card of behavior! That was incredibly foolish; your leg will not take that kind of treatment." He picked up the elf again and set him firmly on the litter.

The elf rolled off again. This time he gave more of a muted, gurgling scream than a groan.

Estel nearly danced with frustration. "You wayward, beetle-witted coxcomb! If you do that again, I will bind you hand and foot!"

The boy walked around in a fierce, tight circle, trying to get control of his temper. After a time he came to stand over the elf and said very seriously, "I will tie you down. Do not make me do it, Legolas."

The elf surrendered to the plea in the silver eyes. He imagined himself tying down a struggling Estel and flinched at the thought. No, he could not make the boy do that. Perhaps when the fading was a little farther along, Estel would finally resign himself to the loss of his friend. But for now, he would not fight the boy.

After Estel had settled the elf on the litter, he packed dried grass around and beneath the wounded leg to stabilize it as well as putting some behind Legolas' shoulders to brace them. Then they set out.

During the night Estel had planned his route. They could not go straight to Imladris as there was a cliff in the way that Sadoreth and the litter could not negotiate. There were no trails from here to Imladris; this area had been completely abandoned to the wild long ago. He decided to go around the cliff to the south, hoping to encounter a search party. The problem was, if they did not come across a troop from the Valley, that route would take nearly a week. A mounted man could cover 30 to 50 miles a day, but a one-horse litter would be lucky to make 5 to 10.

The three travelers soon settled into a routine. Legolas simply endured. Estel ran ahead for a hundred yards or so, then ran back having picked out the smoothest route. He would turn Sadoreth in that direction, order the horse to continue, and then run out again, searching the next area. At roughly hourly intervals, if there was any cover at all, Estel would leave the elf to rest and enjoy a period of reduced pain while he scouted a much longer section. He was amazed at how much of the territory that he could have ridden blithely through was not traversable by a horse-litter.

As the day wore on, the elf and the human suffered greatly. Estel was exhausted from constantly running out and back, and from the tension of leading the expedition and making all the decisions. He not only had to get himself and the elf across the countryside, he had to watch for dangers that might overtake them while he concentrated on his task. He often had to walk bent over, holding one side of the litter off the ground in order to get over rocky stretches and other obstacles. He was also worried that he had made the wrong choice for the elf. Legolas was, to all intents and purposes, in hell. The litter bounced roughly over every tiny imperfection in the ground and landed with a thudding jolt after sliding over the top of rocks and tree roots. After a few hours Legolas had asked Estel for something for the pain. Asked! The boy had given him a little syrup of poppy (how deliciously ironic the Valar can be!) but the field kit had only a small amount that might have to last for days.

That night, in the tiny camp Estel made, the situation became worse. The elf's wound was infected. Estel frowned as he pulled away the dressing. "What did that idiot use that knife for, anyway? Gutting fish? Hold still, mellon nin, this will hurt a bit."

"Spoken like a true…aiyah!...healer." Legolas drew a shuddering breath. He was shivering in spite of being nearly inside the small fire Estel had made. The boy finished his ministrations and sat back weakly. There was no time to rest, however. He had dinner to make.

He made a little thin soup from mushrooms and greens found along the way and secured to the litter. It was not enough for one, let alone the two of them. The boy encouraged the elf to eat as much as he could coax into him and finished the little that was left. He banked their small fire and laid out their cloaks for sleeping. He set Sadoreth to watch over them, and lay against his friend to warm him. He whispered softly to the elf who wandered in and out of a daze.

"You cannot leave me, gwador nin. I need you to help me be the son of Arathorn. I heard Mithrandir and Ada speaking when they did not know I could hear. They said you are star-bound with me. You cannot go. I need you to stand by me, be my sword brother, my guide to the ways of people and places I have never seen. Twice in the last few months I asked if you loved me. Twice you proved your love. Now I will prove mine. I will not let you go. If you go despite my efforts, I will take ship like my famous ancestor and demand the Valar return you to us." The boy broke down into soft sobs that he had held back all the while since he had found the stricken elf. He whispered into the back of his friend's head, over and over, "Do not leave me…" until exhaustion finally brought sleep.

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The next morning the infection was so much worse that Estel turned the litter in the direction of the cliff. If they could negotiate it, they would cut days off their trip. Once at the top, the plateau was fairly flat all the way to the border of his home. Of course, the reason he had not chosen that route to begin with was because only a very desperate person would try to get himself and a disabled elf up the steep face. Estel could not help feeling that desperate described him fairly well at this point.

By mid-afternoon they reached the base of the cliff face. Estel did not want to be without a horse but it could not be helped. Before the climb he would turn Sadoreth loose and hope someone from the valley would find him.

At the base of the cliff, Legolas looked up in disbelief. It rose above them 175 feet, very steep, with outcroppings of rock all up the surface. The incredible futility of Estel's plan caused the first sharpness of mind the elf had had all day.

"Estel, enough of this nonsense. There is no way you are getting me up that cliff. The trees here are old and wise. Let me stay here, and fade in their embrace. I do know, truly I am not unmindful that my going will grieve you…(he had heard the boy in the night, though he had made no sign) …and I am myself grieved that I will not fight by your side, see you find your place, and be your mellon your life long. But we cannot always choose our path, Estel."

Estel slid his arms beneath the elf and carefully lifted him and carried him to one of the trees he had spoken of. He set him down and said simply, "I must dress your wound again." He began to remove the splints and his hands were steady in spite of the moans of pain the elf could no longer hold within.

"Hold now; do not move. There. Well, at least it is not worse than this morning, though that is bad enough. Give me your hand and hold this pad, so. Good. That is enough, take your hand away. Now a little disinfectant…" The elf dug his hands deeply into the dirt beside him. "Nearly done. Once more. Hold! You must not move!... ah, there ...finished." They both relaxed, breathing heavily.

"I must assemble the things we will need in the morning. It will take us all day to make the climb, no doubt, but once at the top, out of the trees, the valley falcons will likely see us. So this is surely the best way. We will begin first thing in the morning. Come, Sadoreth, you can carry whatever I find." He started off.

The elf called after him, "Are you deaf! We are not going anywhere! Even if I were hale it would be a hard climb and I would have to help you! Estel, you have gone beyond what anyone could expect. You have tried your best. But it is over. I will be gone by tomorrow night or the next morning for certain."

Estel stalked back to where the elf sat supported against one of his beloved trees.

"Then go! But I will take you up that cliff, dead or alive!" He stormed off into the wood, motioning his horse to follow.

When he returned he had a huge load of vines on his little horse. Sadoreth's head stuck out comically from the rounded mound. Estel pulled them off and set about making ropes for the next day's ordeal. He had one coil of elven rope on his saddle, but it was not enough. For one thing, he would need to bind Legolas securely to the litter, securely enough he could not possibly come loose, and that alone would take many feet.

When he was finished, he brewed more tea from the dwindling supply in his field kit. When Legolas was not watching, he poured a very little tea and half of the poppy syrup that was left into the prince's cup. Then he carried it over to the elf.

"Have a little more tea. The infection is making you dehydrated."

The elf tried to focus his blurring vision on the boy and accepted the cup. But when he raised it to his lips, Estel reached out and tipped it all neatly down his throat. Legolas sputtered and choked and then furiously recognized the taste.

"What have you done! That is too much!" His eyes narrowed as his sluggish mind reasoned out why the boy would give him that much syrup when they had so little left. "What are you going to do? You do not mean to start now!"

"Of course not. Have a nice, pain free rest and you will feel much better."

The elf's eyes glazed against his will and his breathing evened out.

Estel adjusted the elf's cloak and smiled. "Now I will not have to listen to you carry on while I go up the cliff to scout out the situation for tomorrow."

Estel's brothers, Glorfindel, and Legolas had all given him climbing lessons. They had been very thorough since they worried about the human and his lesser capabilities. Therefore, his preparations were careful and well thought out. He took square pads of leather and cut holes and pushed his fingers through them. These would protect his palms and the suede would increase his grip. He went to the base of the cliff and looked up. It was not really sheer, not when you looked closely. He removed his boots and using his belt knive, cut strips from the smooth, worn soles in irregular patterns, hoping the now rough surface would give him a better grip. He planned a route and began. He not only tried to find the best way up but also some ledges where he and Legolas could rest the next day. The rock was very rough, and as he neared the top he had begun to leave shining splotches behind him from numerous cuts and gouges in his hands and limbs. He moved deliberately and slowly and had no mishaps. He made it to the top, pulled himself over, and lay gasping on the cool, blessed grass that grew to the edge. After long minutes he got to his feet and explored, looking for a tree close to the drop off. He found one that was leaning over a little but securely rooted. It was a young, strong tree about a foot in diameter. Legolas would have been appalled at what he did next, but Legolas was not there.

He drew his belt knife and cut the bark in a circle around the trunk. He pulled bark away in strips until he had a wide gap. The circle was about six inches wide and sap began to ooze at once out of the smooth inner bark. He would need this smooth surface to act as the pulley to get the elf up the cliff. There was too great a chance that the outer bark would fray and break even the elven rope after a long time of stressing it.

Estel looked at the ground below him and sighed. He was really too tired to make his way down but he could not leave the drugged elf alone all night. He dangled his legs over the edge and began the descent as the sun lowered toward the horizon.

When his feet hit the base of the cliff he staggered to his friend. Legolas was still sleeping, his eyes closed. Estel could no longer remember how frightened he had been when he saw elves sleeping for the first time, though his brothers delighted in repeating the story. Now he found the elf's closed eyelids terrifying. He touched his friend's cheek. It felt so cold. The lips were slightly blue. Suddenly he could not bear to be near the elf; he had to move or he would howl like a wolf.

He went a short distance from Legolas and told himself to rest a little before he continued with the work that needed to be done. He curled up on the ground and once again allowed the tears that he had suppressed during the day to flow. For a few minutes he would stop trying to be brave enough for two. He would let go of the effort to be determined and confident. He would simply let fear and grief and the pains of his body hold sway.

He could not let himself weep for long, though, for the elf needed him and he wouldnot yield this battlefield. He clambered up off the ground and staggered to the side of his friend. Legolas seemed still asleep and so Estel went to tend the fire.

Legolas felt the boy's presence and was consumed with a need to speak with him. He was sure he had little time; perhaps a day or two of consciousness—not much more. He was worried he would sink into the final stages with some things left unsaid. He turned his head to see Estel putting more wood on the fire and brewing still more tea. It was all they had in the way of food and it was amazing that the boy was still going strong, or at least seemed to be.

"Estel, will you come here?"

It was the first time that the elf had asked for him and Estel turned quickly. "How may I aid you, gwador?"

"I have somewhat to say to you." The elf drew a deep breath and began. "I have been proud to be your friend, Estel. You have a loving heart, courage enough for an army of men and…" (he continued on in this vein but Estel was not listening).

Estel had had a hard day. He was frightened all the time. He was frightened that his friend would fade and he constantly worried that his decisions, large and small, were not the ones his father or Glorfindel would have made. There was no part of his body that was not sore, or scraped, or bruised, or aching, or all four combined. He responded to his dear friend's words by completely losing his temper.

"Wonderful! So now I must listen to the 'I have been proud to be your friend' speech! Well, you are not proud enough! Not enough to stay with me and see if Adar can do something for you! I am sure he can get you on a horse again even if you cannot run through the trees! If you can ride, you can shoot a bow! And even if you could not – is that all you are! Just another body to fight and die for Mirkwood? They have many! Do you not think that maybe some of us love to hear you sing? That we might want to hear your thoughts on deep subjects? Some of us desire your counsel, not only your quiver! We want your love, not only your bow! Are you so arrogant that you can only live as perfection? I must go through every day in Imladris with my nose rubbed in my imperfections! And how many times have you said to me, 'there is more to you than how fast you climb trees; more than how far you see', and on and on and ON! AAAAAARGH! You…you…ELF you! Take your own counsel, my friend! I have had enough! I am done!"

He stomped off to make repairs to the litter but his shaking body interfered. He sat down with a thump and put his face in his hands and prayed for patience and the strength to do what must yet be done. He was as frightened as he had ever been in his life, and the one who had always helped him with his fears now seemed the enemy to be fought. /I need your belief that I can do this, but you deny me./

After an hour or so, cold and stiff, Estel got to his feet. He repaired the litter by firelight, checking every joint and tie and each piece of wood for cracks and splits. Since it was no longer a horse litter he cut five feet off each side, above the first cross-piece. He then went to the elf with a warmed cup.

"Do you want a little more to drink? This is the last of the tea. Tomorrow it is just water for us." Estel slipped an arm behind the elf and lifted him so that he could drink. The elf turned his head and accepted the cup but his hand shook and the contents slopped over the edge. The young man covered his friend's hand with his own and helped steady the cup to the blue lips. He continued with difficulty, "Legolas….forgive me. I am sorry I said those things. You are my brother; I am ashamed that I spoke so. Do you remember when you told me you were afraid of my dying, that being a friend to a man was a hard thing for an elf? Neither of us could imagine then that you would go first. Now I find that same fear in me. That is why I will not let you go without fighting with all that I am."

The elf spoke softly, with understanding. "I know. I know this is very hard for you, Estel. You will do as your heart bids you and I…" Legolas sighed in defeat. He doubted there would be any force on Arda that could withstand this man. Even fading, he could not. "I will agree to this much: I will not hinder you tomorrow and I will try to remain until I have been seen by Elrond. Then I will leave you, but at least you will know nothing could be done. Will you then let me go?"

"Yes."

They both knew he lied, but the elf was too worn to pursue it. "Go to sleep, Estel. Since you are determined to risk yourself trying to get both of us up the cliff, you need some rest."

Without another word the boy once again lay against his friend and they both took what comfort they could from the contact.

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End chapter 3