NiRi, for the sake of your poor eyes I have unbolded this chapter, and I have to agree, it does read better. From now on I will save bold for emphasis. I also made a few changes with Ch8. The "spider poison" is now "Shadow sickness". When you read this chapter you will see why. I also changed the "broken nose" bit. What a good author I am. pats self on back

See what happens when you lovely readers give a nice review? I listen and act accordingly. So review, please! Thank you.

One Friend to Another

9:

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"Kill it"

The wracking sobs of a five year old human child immediately followed the gruff order from the large orc named Grknak.

"No! Please!" the child cried desperately. "You cannot kill him. Please. You cannot!"

"And why not, human spawn?" The big orc crouched now in front of the tethered child, leering cruelly into the heartbroken little face.

"Because…he's….." Estel struggled to speak through his sobs, "..he's…."

"'E's what, scum?" Grknak backhanded the child's cheek, the boy's head whipping to the side and connecting with the tree trunk behind him. The boy barely registered the pain, the deep agony and worry in his heart overriding all else.

"Because he's the prince of Mirkwood!" the child finally got out before his voice broke into heaving sobs of terror.

The big orc stood then, one hand thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

"Is 'e now?" Grknak asked himself. The orc whirled round to face where his second-in-command stood with sword raised, poised to send the tip plummeting down into the heart of the elf lying at his feet. "Hold, Urshgk!"

At his commander's order the foul creature re-sheathed his sword with a scowl. He had been looking forward to ending the immortal life of the helpless creature at his feet. The elf owed him some recompense for the sport it had deprived them all of.

Grknak stood still in contemplation, struggling to form a plan in his tiny brain. The plan evaded him, but he decided to wait and see and maybe this elf could prove to be of value after all. Though stupid, the orc was not without ambition. If the elf was who the child said it was, then maybe someone or something would pay handsomely to have it in his possession, half dead or not. Frustrated that he could think of nothing else, Grknak resorted to yelling out orders to his hideous subordinates.

"Haul that elf carcass over 'ere and tie it up beside the brat!" he called finally. "Be quick about it!

Several orcs rushed forward to comply, picking Legolas up roughly and half dragging, half carrying the elf to dump him roughly next to the still sobbing Estel. They fetched a length of rope and rolled the unconscious Immortal on to his side, tying his hands behind his back then securing his ankles together. One orc pulled out a chipped and rusty knife and advanced again on the elf. Estel saw this and gasped. Were they still going to hurt his friend? The orc in question heard the gasp from the child and grinned evilly at him, then simply used the knife to cut the straps that held Legolas' quiver and knives to his back. The harness was cut free and thrown to the side, to be joined by the great Mirkwood bow, it's golden string severed by the same knife.

The orc ambled off to assist it's comrades in setting up a hasty temporary camp under Grknak's orders, and Estel calmed his sobbing breaths with some effort to study the fair creature slumped beside him.

The elf lay unmoving in the uncomfortable position the orcs had left him in, on his left side facing the boy with his arms tied behind his back awkwardly, stones and broken branches no doubt digging into his face and side where he lay on the forest floor. His eyes were still closed, breathing shallow and erratic with his face pale and dirt-streaked. If it wasn't for the small movements of his chest, Estel would swear the prince was already dead. He could see now that the elf was in a bad way, obviously deathly ill. Estel tried to remember what the big orc had said.

Shadow sickness.

He did not know what that meant, except to realise that Legolas needed a healer, preferably Lord Elrond. And the sooner the better. The prince's life was saved for now from the orcs. But he did not know how long that would last, or if this sickness would kill the blond elf long before the orcs decided to.

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The Last Homely House of Rivendell was in utter chaos.

Doors banged, elves shouted, and horses neighed in agitation outside in the courtyard.

Inside in his study Elrond was getting one of his headaches. The kind that did not go away easily, the kind brought on by stress, guilt, worry…….and a deep seated fear.

Elladan was just handing him one of the Lord's own pain relieving teas when the door to the study flew open and Glorfindel barged in, robes flapping and face flushed from his own stress and worry.

"Elrond, the last patrol has just come back" he announced breathlessly. "They have found no sign of Legolas or Estel"

"But?" Elrohir, seeing his father had not raised his head from his hands and was in no way up to dragging information from the blond general, had decided to do it for him. And he just knew that there was a "but" in Glorfindel's next sentence.

Glorfindel glanced at the younger twin. "But they did find orc sign"

Elrond groaned from behind his hands, his eyes closing in futility. Things just always, always had to get worse before they got better.

"Surely if that hare-brained prince is returning to Mirkwood he would have taken the shortest route, the direct path through the woods and then on over the mountain pass?" Elladan countered. "Are you telling me that you could find no trial of an elf or his horse or a clumsy 5 year old human on that path? None at all?"

"None" the ancient elf confirmed.

"Then he didn't take the direct route" Elrond stated simply, his headache finally easing enough so that he could raise his head and see the three other anxious faces in the room.

"Ada?" Elrohir queried gently, his own worry growing at the sight of the pale, ill-looking countenance of his father. "Are you alright?"

"No, my son. I am not alright" Elrond all but groaned. "And neither is Legolas. That young elf was probably so ill he would barely know what direction he was travelling in"

Elrond rose from his seat, lifting a sheaf of parchments from his desk in front of him and paced the room.

"This is a letter from Mithrandir" he stated, lifting the papers for all in the room to see. "It arrived by messenger from Mirkwood just before lunch this morning, while we and practically the whole of Imladris were out scouring the valley for Estel. I only got it an hour ago"

"It seems the wizard had gone to Mirkwood from here to offer his counsel to Thranduil, and maybe find out more of what just might be troubling Legolas" Elrond explained, still pacing the length of the room and back again.

"That cunning wizard found out that our young prince was seriously wounded on a patrol almost six months ago. The patrol were clearing a nest of spiders when they were attacked by orcs. Legolas took an arrow to the chest…..a poisoned arrow." He paused to let the implications of that sink in to his audience. "It seems the orcs of the Necromancer are now working in tandem with all the foul creatures of that dark wood. The Mirkwood healers battled to save him for days, and eventually he seemed to come round and recover enough to go back out on patrol with his warriors"

Again Elrond paused, and leafed through the parchments in his hand to find the relevant page.

"It was around that time that Legolas began to change. He became morose, anxious. Obsessed with strategies and battles and defence of his realm. Seldom resting, barely eating, driven only by the fight against the Shadow that seeks to ensnare Mirkwood from all sides" Elrond sighed. "His friends could barely recognise him as the prince that they all knew and loved. He drove them all away with his anger and obsession" Elrond rubbed his eyes tiredly. "For months Legolas has been eating, sleeping and breathing nothing but his own single-handed fight against the Shadow"

Elladan was the first to see where this was heading, as the most experienced and skilled healer in Imladris aside from his father.

"The poison, Ada. What antidote did the healers use for the poison?" he asked.

"That is just it, my son. They do not know." Elrond looked at his son. "They treated him with all the antidotes that they knew and he seemed to recover though they could not tell which one it was that worked, if any"

Elrohir stood up now, catching on to what his father and brother were talking about.

"None of them did" he stated, suddenly wide-eyed with fear. "None of the antidotes worked!"

"Exactly" The Lord of Imladris sank dejected back into his chair behind his desk. He passed a hand over his forehead in deep thought. "It seems that the Shadow Legolas has been sensing all around him, the Shadow that he has been fighting all this time….."

"It is not all around him" Elladan finished the thought for him.

Elrohir caught on now too. "It's inside him"

Their father nodded slowly and noticed Glorfindel standing with his mouth gaping in shock.

"So you see, my friend" Elrond said to him "Legolas could be travelling across Mordor his mind itself so shadowed by the sickness he would not even notice"

"With Estel at his heels" Elrohir suddenly felt very ill, worried sick about not only his dear friend the prince but the child that had followed him. "He would not be able to defend himself or Estel, Ada!"

"But why?" Glorfindel asked. "Why would the evil of Mordor inflict such a slow acting torture on the prince? If this is the work of the Necromancer, why not just kill him outright?"

"Because the more the prince suffers, the more his father suffers" his Lord replied. "And the weaker Mirkwood will become"

"King Thranduil will fade, if Legolas dies" the older twin stated needlessly.

"And if Thranduil fades, Mirkwood will fall" Elrohir added.

"And if Mirkwood falls, Rivendell falls" It was Glorfindel that voiced the cold fear now seeping into the hearts of all of them. "The Shadow will encroach into Imladris, then Lothlorien……."

"Legolas is the key" Elrohir realised, his voice rising in shock. "All this time that pompous, arrogant, hare-brained twit of an elfling prince is the key to the survival through this age of all of the Firstborn realms?"

Elrond looked at the youngest twin and nodded.

"And that key to the survival of all of the Firstborn is wandering sick or dying Elbereth knows where" he didn't want to voice the dark thought that he knew they were all thinking anyway. But he did. "And with him in his care is the child that is to be the hope of all Mankind"

"I will order the guard to widen the search" Glorfindel declared, turning on his heels to approach the study door. "We will find them Elrond"

"I know, mellon nin" the Lord of Imladris returned heavily. "I just hope we find them in time"

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TBC.

A. N. See, no cliffy. Was that a cliffy? Does it count? Ah, well. Leggy is safe for the moment. Kind of. Or maybe not. Ummm….bye.