Sorry once more about the delay and again I thank all of you for your inspiring and encouraging reviews. This chapter was written with the help of a new muse, Fred the Spider. Fred is on loan from NiRi and is a close personal friend of her lovely Leggs. He is not as big as Leggs, but he is just as passionate about reviews. hint hint He does not need to eat reviews to live...he eats lurkers. So unless you want to be lunch for a large black eight-legged muse, please review.

Beta-ed by NiRi, without whom this would never have gotten written anytime this month. At least not in a form that would have made any kind of sense. Big hugs all round for NiRi

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I hope you don't either. If you do, why are you wasting your time reading this?

One Friend to Another

Chapter 15:

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It was late evening in the elven sanctuary of Rivendell. The sun had already begun her slow descent across the sky to dip behind the forests of Rhovanion. Again the elven sanctuary was encased in a rare shroud of quite and peace. No foreign delegates crowding the Hall of Fire, no strange humans or elves packing the Healing Rooms in need of patching up or as reinforcements from orc or warg attack. There was however, still much to do. Servants readied bed chambers and prepared enough food to last the night. Healers scrounged the near-by forests for herbs.

One small human sat cross legged in his bed chamber before a roaring fire, his lips moving in a silent chant as he stared unseeing into the flickering flames. The child could not fully understand the strange feeling in his tummy. He just knew that tonight he was to do something very important, something that his new princely friend depended upon greatly and he had to get it right. The twins had instilled in him the importance of reciting the Athelas rhyme to perfection, and he repeated it over and over again to himself in a silent whisper. His identical twin "brothers" lounged on the couch behind him.

The three were waiting patiently for the call to the healing rooms from their Ada. Estel would soon be called upon to summon whatever latent power he held that could help Legolas.

Elrohir sat reading a large book pilfered from the vast library of Avareth, Elrond's head healer and second in command when it came to curing poisons or high fevers…..or Shadow sickness. The ancient elleth did not begrudge helping the twins in researching ways to help the fair Mirkwood prince, but she did begrudge entrusting the likes of Elrohir to her precious stock of healing volumes, simply because anything he borrowed was never returned.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Avareth herself appeared in the room, humbly bowing to the twins before solemnly announcing, "My Lord Elrond bids you all to join him in the Healing Rooms."

At her words, she quietly left, closing the door behind her.

The dark haired twins turned and looked at each other, the same fearful look in both pairs of eyes. Elrohir felt his stomach clench, and he knew his brother felt the same. Avareth had never bowed to them before. She had been healing and chastising them since they were elflings, spoiling them one moment and cuffing their ears the next. She had never treated them as lords, and they did not expect it from her. They suspected that she did so now for several reasons, not the least being the tense atmosphere that permeated the entire house since the degeneration of Legolas, and the arrival of his father, the king of Mirkwood.

The fact that she was too distracted to even notice Elrohir had her most precious book spoke volumes. Things in the healing rooms were dire.

Elladan noticed Estel's eyes on him and read there the fear, anticipation and worry that they all felt. He prayed to the Valar that whatever happened tonight would not steal away the innocence of one so young. Holding out his arms to the child, he was rewarded with the boy jumping up from the floor and flinging himself into the comforting embrace. Estel clung tightly to Elladan and nuzzled into the elf's neck, while Elrohir reached over and gently stroked the boy's back in soothing circles.

The boy breathed the fresh lavender scent of his big brother's blue velvet tunic and told himself he would not cry, he must not cry. Inside his tummy there were butterflies, and those butterflies were doing so many loops and turns that he felt sick. Estel swallowed dryly and clenched his eyes shut tight. He did not really understand this song he had to sing for his new friend Legolas, but he told his Adar and the twins that he did. He didn't want them to be disappointed in him.

Elladan finally broke the tense silence as he rose to his feet, the boy still in his arms. "Come, little one. It is time to go sing that special song of yours to a certain silly wood elf." Then all three headed out of the door.

Upon their arrival into the healing rooms, Elladan was pleased to be greeted by Estel's nanny. She tenderly took the child from him and carried him to an empty bed. There she had laid out some of his favourite toys and games, to occupy and distract him from the screened off bed at the far side of the long room, as those gathered made ready. She caught Elrohir's eye and motioned for the two elves to go to the other bed.

Stepping around the screen, the twins found Elrond, Thranduil, Gandalf and Avareth. Thranduil sat on a chair near the head of the bed, his son's pliant hand held in his own. His eyes fixed on the pale face of his son, he did not look up to greet the newcomers. Elrond stood in whispered conference with the wizard and Avareth. He stepped over to his sons as soon as he noticed them, and greeted them in turn with a brief, heartfelt hug, then directed them back around the other side of the screen to talk.

"Is Estel sufficiently prepared?" he asked in a subdued whisper.

"As well as he can be for his age, Ada," Elladan told him. "We told him that Legolas is stuck in a deep sleep that he cannot wake from without Estel's help, and the song will hopefully reach him in his sleep and wake him from a nightmare." The elder twin sighed. "But we had to also tell him that the song might not work and that Legolas might choose to journey to Mando's Halls instead of coming back to us. He cried then, for a while, but he is being very brave now, Ada. He wants to do this."

Elrond nodded in approval with a fond glance at the boy across the long room. "He is brave indeed."

"Ada, what about Thranduil?" Elrohir asked "Does he know?"

Elrond nodded slowly, "He knows. I told him of Estel, of who he is and why we must try to do this." Again Elrond's eyes rested on the playing child. "I expected him to protest, but he accepted my judgement without argument, which surprised me." The elf lord paused for a moment and pondered Thranduil's quick acquiescence. "He is willing to try anything at this stage, 'Ro. He wants his son back"

"He is a good father," Elladan stated simply.

"He is," his father agreed. The elf lord suddenly clasped each twin on a shoulder. "Come, my sons. It is time."

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As the evening grew darker Imladris' Lord called for servants to bring extra candle globes to light the main healing room. Once this had been done and the candle globes placed in all the sconces in the walls, the servants left and Elrond placed guards outside of the doors of the healing rooms with strict instructions to allow no one to enter for the rest of the night unless he himself called for aid. All present had already eaten and a table with a crystal jug of refreshing cordial had been set to the side of the room. It was going to be a long night.

Thranduil gave up his seat reluctantly, near the head of his son, so that Estel could sit near the prince. Gandalf stood on his left, while Elladan and Elrohir stood on the other side of the bed. Behind them stood Avareth, next to the herb table and within easy reach of the pots of water boiling on the fire. Thranduil took himself to stand at the foot of the large bed. Avareth had fetched him a chair, but he refused it, preferring instead, to stand. He stood straight-backed and vigilant, the hem of his deep green robe flapping gently in the warm breeze from the open window.

On his chair up close beside Legolas sat a pensive Estel, while Elrond stood to the right of him conferring across the bed with Avareth, the two healers checking and rechecking that they had all they could possibly need of healing supplies. The boy sat on his hands and studied the figure on the bed before him.

This was the first time he had seen the Mirkwood elf since their rescue in the woods. If he thought the prince looked bad then, he looked much worse now. The once fair face was so pale and drawn he looked almost transparent. The dark brows and long eyelashes stood in stark contrast to the too-pale skin. His closed eyes looked sunken and bruised, cheekbones so sharp they cast a shadow on his cheeks. Estel bit his lips and struggled with the painful pull on his heart. He slowly reached trembling fingers towards a long arm that lay atop the sheets. The arm felt warm under his fingers, and clammy like a water skin left to long in the sun. He jumped to his feet suddenly and snatched his hand back from the Mirkwood prince as a long fingered hand touched his own arm. Estel looked up startled into the kind eyes of his Ada.

"Give me your hands, penneth." Elrond spoke soothingly and took Estel's right hand in his own, placing it gently upon Legolas' brow. The child's left hand was placed on the elf's chest, right over his heart. Estel marvelled at the slight thump...thump... thump that he felt tickle the palm of his hand, and the rise and fall of his hand as breath entered and then left Legolas.

Suddenly, he caught a faint smell of that strange plant that 'Dan and 'Ro told him was called athelas. The smell permeated through the healing rooms, and Estel felt his heart lift slightly as he breathed it in. The smell reminded him of grass in summer after a warm rainfall.

Elrond crouched down behind Estel and put both hands on the boy's shoulders.

"Estel, I want you to think back to the time you first saw Legolas," the elf lord told him in a slow even whisper. "Picture his face then, his smile, his hair. Think of all you remember of Legolas when you talked with him on the archery field. Now close your eyes." Elrond placed a warm hand on the boy's eyelids and Estel closed them, keeping them closed when Elrond removed his fingers. "Picture Legolas, Estel. The colour of his eyes, the light in his eyes as he sees you for the first time..."

His Ada's voice continued on in a whisper near his ear, but he no longer heard the words. Estel breathed in the athelas and thought back to the day the Mirkwood elf had arrived in Imladris. He had noticed the big bay stallion first, the animal muscled and sleek, then the long legged being that had leapt lightly from the horse's back, in hues of green and brown and gold. He remembered seeing the huge ornate bow upon the lean creature's back and had wondered if the weapon was really twice as long as he was tall, like it looked. He remembered the sun glinting off hair the colour of the narcissi daffodils from his favourite garden. He heard again the musical lilting voice that greeted him by name with the words, "Mae govannan, Estel," the familiar Elven name that meant "Hope" sounding like the note of a song as it floated through the air to his ears.

Legolas had bowed low with one hand over his heart, and his hair had swept down over his face. He had then straightened and flicked his hair back with a shake of his head, and Estel had found himself staring into eyes the colour of the deepest, clearest blue that shone with an inner light, like sparkles of sunshine on a rippling pond. The eyes had crinkled pleasantly at the corners as the prince had laughed at a comment by Elladan, and the child had been star struck at meeting his first ever prince, but had turned serious again as Legolas had looked deep into Estel's eyes. At the time, the child recalled thinking that this prince could see right through him.

Then something stirred at the bottom of that deep, clear blue pond. It was like someone had poured a dark and filthy substance into the once clean water. Something black and cruel rose to the surface of those cerulean eyes, and the dancing light had vanished. The smile evaporated, and the prince had turned away from him, striding off into the Last Homely House after the twins. Estel remembered feeling scared, and wanting nothing more than to see the light come back into Legolas' eyes.

Then suddenly, Elrond's voice was back in his consciousness, whispering closely into his ear. "Sing your song, my child," his Ada prompted.

Eyes still closed, the little boy felt several leaves of athelas being pressed into his left hand. His hand was placed once more over the prince's chest, the plant now between his own skin and the thump...thump...thump of the elven heart, but he could still feel it.

"Sing your song, Estel and bring him back to the light," came his Ada's voice, and the child began to sing.

His voice started hesitantly, then grew in strength as the words flowed into his mind and out of his mouth. He was barely aware of doing it. He could only faintly hear his own voice. He could hear the song in his mind and feel the tune in his heart, the words taking form without thought.

"When the black breath blows

And death's shadow grows

And all lights pass,

Come athelas! Come athelas!

Life to the dying

In the king's hand lying!"

Over and over the little human sang the ancient verse, the lilting soprano touching the hearts of the gathered elves and wizard. The childish voice flowed smooth and warm, growing louder, more confident as the scent of the herb grew stronger until it permeated the room.

At the foot of the bed, King Thranduil stared transfixed at the child, who stood with eyes closed as if in a trance, that sweet innocent voice carrying such conviction as it pleaded to bring forth the power of the athelas. Once more the song began, louder and stronger than ever before, and the king fancied he heard another voice join in, a mature tenor echoed deep and far away behind the tones of the soprano, then the verse ended and the boy fell boneless to the floor.

TBC.