One Friend To Another

Chapter 7: Follow

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It was still dark outside as a sparrow began it's morning song barely the hour before dawn and the heavy rain that had fallen all night was finally beginning to wane.

Legolas rose stiffly from his bed and immediately started to dress. He heard not a sound from the rest of the house as he hastily began packing his few belongings into a well-worn pack. He had needed no call to rouse him from slumber this morning, save for the chirp of the lone sparrow, as he had barely slept all night. He had been lying awake as the storm had raged outside, he had watched the flames in the hearth splutter and die and he had listened as the rain finally abated and almost completely eased off to become a few intermittent drops that the chilled breeze carried through the open window and left on the floor of his room.

Despite his exhaustion he had found no rest. Every bone in his body ached and his mind had churned with worry for his father and his people. He felt the need to return to them so badly he had not been able to relax and let sleep take him all night, worrying that something terrifying had happened in his absence. Fear gnawed at him that something terrifying had happened in Mirkwood during the four days of travel to and three days stay in Imladris. He felt nauseous as his mind dwelt on dark thoughts of invasion by orcs, destruction by fire and the desolation of his people.

He had spent the long night in a waking nightmare of guilt.

Estel's eyes flew open and he came immediately awake from the deep sleep that had taken him in what just seemed mere hours ago. Disorientated and groggy he listened for what had woken him and heard the short call of an awakening sparrow on her first hunt for grubs. Just as he was closing his eyes again and settling once more deeply under the warm covers he heard the distinct click of a door closing somewhere out in the hall……and immediately came awake as he remembered his mission and the strange golden haired prince.

His packing complete Legolas turned his attention to his weapons, checking that his knives were clean and sharp before adding them to their holsters in his quiver and strapping the whole thing to his back. He slung his bow over his shoulder to join them, and lifted the pack and strapped it to his waist. Pausing only to fill his water flagon from the tapped spring that flowed through the bath chamber, he reached his hand out cautiously to the door handle. He half-expected the door to be locked, if Elrond had kept good on his threat to keep him by force in Imladris. Surprised that the door opened unhindered, he then expected a guard or two posted outside his room to capture him if he should step out of the ornately carved portal.

But the corridor was empty, the house in sleepy silence.

Dressing hastily Estel pulled on breeches and shirt and tunic and boots, grabbed his already prepared pack and poked his nose out of his door in a miniature parody of the prince just moments before. The candle globes in the hall were still lit, their flickering flames highlighting the tall shadowy figure that lingered for a second then disappeared around the corner to the stairwell.

Not a sound or movement did the elf prince detect in the entire building. Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked as quickly and silently through the house, making one detour to the well-stocked kitchens to grab several cakes of Lembas from the dry larder, remembering the location of the elvish waybread from the time he had joined the twins in a hunting trip many years ago.

As stealthily as a 5 year old could go, Estel trotted after the prince as fast as his short legs could carry him. His small doeskin boots were as soft and silent as slippers on the tiled floor, his little feet carrying him not much slower than the skulking prince. All Legolas' senses were focused forward on his journey, not behind, so he did not even hear the scurrying figure stub his toe on a door post when he was caught off-guard by the elf's detour into the kitchens. Slipping behind a pillar Estel waited for the elf to re-emerge from the kitchen and resume his exit of the large house.

Making his way out the door and towards the stables Legolas was suddenly assaulted by feelings of a different guilt at the way he found himself abandoning the hospitality of Imladris and it's lord. He felt ashamed that this was how he had to leave behind his friends Elrohir and Elladan, with no fond farewell or warrior handshakes and promises to visit again and plans of future hunts.

Legolas sighed. How had it come to this? Sneaking off in the dark like a thief or a disgraced trespasser, not knowing when, if ever, he would return. He ached for the hurt it would no doubt cause Elrond and the twins when they discovered the prince was gone.

And then he found himself thinking of a certain human boy. Would the child remember the warrior prince if he ever returned? With a stabbing ache in his heart Legolas realised that he would probably be grown up by the time he returned to Imladris and he silently cursed himself for letting Estel into his heart, however begrudgingly. He had tried to hold out against feeling anything other than disdain for the tiny mortal. But the child had won him over and he knew it. The innocence and ignorance of the small boy had opened up something inside of him, found a tiny part of him that remembered how to have fun, and it scared him.

He shook his head. He did not need this.

Moving on Legolas encountered no one but one guard on patrol of the grounds around the Last Homely House. The guard greeted him warmly on recognition, thinking nothing odd about the prince leaving in the hour before sunrise.

Once again the boy was almost caught out as Legolas stopped to exchange greetings with the guard, but on sudden inspiration he took advantage of the preoccupation of the two elven figures as they quietly talked and skipped off to the right and cut through Elrond's beloved gardens instead of heading straight for the stables that he presumed Legolas was heading for.

With his horse finally prepared with no tack save a bit-less bridle and his bedroll secured to it's back, Legolas mounted then turned the big bay stallion to gaze longingly on the silhouette of the stately residence of his hosts. He bowed his head once in an unseen gesture of respect and farewell, then spun the horse noiselessly and cantered off alone into the woods that bordered the realm of Imladris and headed for the bridge that would take him out of this realm and on eventually to his own forest of Mirkwood.

He did not hear the snort of greeting that one stubby grey pony gave her young human master. He did not see the child leap clumsily onto the stocky equine's hastily prepared saddle. He did not see the pair duck at the last moment and exit the stable at a dead gallop that would give Elrond grey hairs had he known about it.

He did not know that he was not alone.

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Surprisingly enough, Estel had not as much trouble keeping up with the swift Mirkwood horse. Two things helped him in his trail of the prince. The first one being his pony. Though small she was elven bred and trained and cantered unwavering along the prince's trail with barely a sound of hoof beats, and he himself had been trained to ride since he could walk, first by his human parents, then by his new elven brothers.

The second reason was that Legolas had slowed his horse after crossing the ford that marked the borders of Rivendell. The blond prince's urgent need for haste had given way to a grudging awareness of his own state of health after the first couple of hours of fast travel had passed. The bay stallion had stumbled on a rough patch of rocky ground and Legolas had narrowly avoided falling off his horse. His shame at almost being unseated gave way to an awareness of a strange dizziness and he had no choice but to slow the horse to a walk. He still felt stiff and his shoulder and back ached. As he travelled on the pain grew until it invaded every bone in his body. A feeling of uneasiness followed the incident, fearing that maybe Elrond had been right after all and he was ill.

"No, I am fine" he whispered tersely to the pivoting ears of the horse. "It is just lack of sleep and food"

But as the horse trod steadily on, Legolas began to feel worse. Every part of his body ached, but none more so than the old arrow scar on his chest. It burned as if a hot poker was being held over it, and sweat ran down from his forehead in rivulets as if he had a fever. He couldn't have, he stubbornly told himself again. Elves do not get fevers. But then his vision blurred suddenly, causing the dizziness to turn into full blown vertigo as the ground beneath the horse's feet seems to ebb and flow as he watched. The elf clung to his horse's mane like it was a lifeline trying to stay atop it's back, and he refused to give in to the growing knowledge that he should stop.

Not far behind the prince the young human clung skilfully to his own horse as the pony's stride ate up the miles of woodland and scrub, hot on the prince's trail. Estel could no longer remember why he had followed the elf on his undercover departure from Rivendell. He could only remember the feeling of urgency when he had heard the prince and his adopted father arguing the night before. He wanted to know more about this golden haired prince, he felt intrigue and a nagging curiosity whenever he thought of the tall blond elf that had appeared from nowhere, rejecting him at first then seeming to offer the child a beleaguered acceptance. He thought back to the archery lesson the day before and a smile lit up his cherubic face.

Estel had feared the elf's gruff manner, the prince had been a strict teacher at the beginning, but then for some reason everything had changed. The small boy could not understand it, but the two had connected. The change came after the strange elf had "talked" to the big oak tree. The strange elf had never truly relaxed, but they still had ended up having fun. The child had tripped over a tree root and fell on his backside with a grunt at one point….and the elf had laughed. For a split second Estel had contemplated crying in embarrassment at his ungainly stumble, but then he had noticed the sound of the elf's laugh. It was like music, and it seemed to the child at the time that the birds and trees around Legolas had joined in with the sound, with merry chirps and rustling of leaves. And Estel could not help but laugh right back.

The prince's bay stallion slowed his walk to a hesitant step as he felt his master's wavering posture. Like all elven horses the animal had been bred to defend his master and trained to carry an injured elf. But even the stallion could sense that this elf was not going to be able to stay on his back for very much longer.

"No, we must…go on" Legolas tried to nudge the horse onward, but the animal stood squarely on it's four feet and did not budge an inch.

The horse whinnied in concern and gave a toss of his great head, trying to implore the elf prince to dismount and rest. But in doing so he unwittingly wrenched his mane from Legolas' grip. With nothing else solid to hold on to, the blond elf wavered and finally slid to the ground. His knees buckled as soon as his feet touched earth but he caught himself in time and clung to the back of the great horse to keep himself upright.

"This cannot …be happening" Legolas cursed softly to himself as the horse escorted him to a nearby tree.

Once within reach of the tree he let go of the stallion and leaned an arm on the rough bark instead, then fell to his knees at it's base. He could feel all strength leave him bit by bit as the pain and nausea grew.

Darkness encroached on the edge of his vision and the last thing Legolas felt was his back impacting with the ground and the last thing he saw was an orc's hideous face leaning over him. His last thought was that he had failed his father.

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TBC.

A.N. Ooh, was that my first ever really evil cliffy? Truly? Oh, good.

runs