Legolas

Legolas was torn between panic and relief. Panic that more people were going to find out just how imperfect he was, and relief that Estel was taking it out of his hands. Some part of him had known for a while that he wasn't coping, and as much as it scared him, that part just wanted Estel to take control.

"Legolas? Do you want me to pick for you?"

Legolas shook his head as the panic started winning out over the relief. How would he tell them? Any of them? What would they think, how would they look at him?

"Imladris. We go to Imladris." At least he could minimize the number of people who knew. His father didn't need to know his shame.

It was as though Estel could read his mind, or perhaps just his face. "We can do that, but don't think that means Thranduil won't find out about this. If I know my father, he'll insist on writing to him the moment he finds out what's going on. Thranduil may agree for you to remain in Imladris for treatment, but one way or another, he will know."

The dim ray of hope vanished. Legolas felt like he might faint. Everything he'd done to earn his father's esteem in all his many years was coming crashing down in this moment.

"We stay here, then. It would be cowardly, fleeing to Imladris to let Elrond do what I'm too weak to do."

"You are far from weak, Legolas."

Legolas didn't bother to argue, knowing he would never convince Estel the truth of his flaws.

"Come on, your father may not be asleep yet."

"N-now?" A wave of molten panic went through him. Legolas wasn't ready.

"Yes, now," Estel said gently. "I want to start getting you help as soon as possible."

He suddenly felt like he was trapped in a nightmare. Legolas just wanted it all to stop, to go away and be like it was before, when he was in control of his secrets.

"No," he whispered. His breathing was edging on hyperventilation, but he couldn't get control of it. Legolas hadn't had panic attacks in years, but without his knife to keep himself on track, he was losing his grasp on his own mental state.

"Legolas, try to stay calm. This is your father, remember. He loves you. He's not going to judge you. Come on, breathe slowly for me."

"I – need my – knife –" His words were interspersed with sharp gasps.

"I'm not giving you your knife."

Legolas only realized that he was tearing at his skin with his nails when Estel pried his hands away.

"If you need to hurt someone, hurt me." He pressed Legolas' nails to his own skin. "Go on, I can take it. I'd rather this than see you hurt yourself."

Legolas shook his head frantically. Injure his heart's brother? Unthinkable. He desperately needed to get control, but Estel's arms were under his nails, and he wouldn't tear at his friend's skin like he longed to tear at his own. Legolas tried to clench his hands into fists, but Estel wasn't having that, quickly linking their fingers.

"Stop it, Estel! Let me go!"

This plea fell on deaf ears. Estel wasn't going to let Legolas injure himself, even mildly. The room was spinning, and Legolas knew that he'd pass out if this didn't stop soon.

He tried another plea. "Help me. Estel – can't breathe properly – help."

This plea, Estel did respond to, even though it was clear he wasn't entirely sure what to do. "Ok, ok – um, lie back, like this. Now let's get your arms above your head, open up your lungs. You're breathing too fast, just try to slow down a bit."

Legolas couldn't slow down, not without his knife, but he didn't have the breath to tell Estel that. "Um – alright, let's do it like this." Estel pushed Legolas' tunic up and put a hand on his stomach. "Just breathe into my hand, ok? Nice deep breaths, right into my hand."

Legolas tried. His mind was flooded with panic at not being able to get enough air, but Estel's warm hand and steady voice were things he could cling to. He tried to do as Estel said, and as his stomach expanded and released, he realized that he was taking slower breaths.

They stayed there for several minutes, until the worst had passed. Legolas stared up at Estel in amazement. "It stopped," he said dumbly. "And I didn't need my knife."

Estel gave him an encouraging smile. "See? There are other ways to deal with things."

Legolas shook his head. "Only because you're here. I would have needed my knife otherwise."

"Well, I'll always be here for you, so that's not a problem, is it?"

"I guess not." Legolas knew that when Estel died, he would follow him into Valinor – and Estel would go to Valinor, Mithrandir had promised them.

They were quiet for a few more minutes before Estel finally broke the silence. "Are you ready to go?"

At once, panic seized him again. "No. No, no, no, I can't, Estel."

"You have to," Estel said gently. "I'll be with you. You can do this, I promise."

"Ada will be devastated. He'll blame himself."

"Your father is strong. He'll be ok."

"Just give me a bit of time. Tonight, even. We can tell him tomorrow."

Estel shot him a shrewd look. "What are you going to do if I give you the night?"

"Nothing," Legolas lied, but his friend knew him too well. Even now, Legolas was considering making a break for it, running for the depths of Greenwood and hiding until he could bring back his perfection and cut away this strange weakness Estel brought out in him.

"I don't believe you, mellon nin. Come on. Unless you want me to have the servants call Thranduil here?"

"No." Legolas wouldn't be visited in bed like an invalid. He resisted feebly as Estel took his hand and pulled him to his feet. There was no resisting the determined human, and Legolas tried to focus on not letting his legs give out. This was bad enough without him needing to be carried to his father like a child.

"I can't," he breathed, panic rising to a crescendo inside him as they got closer and closer to his father's chambers.

"Don't worry, I'll help you. I won't leave you to drown, mellon nin, not anymore, not now that I know you're drowning."

Before he knew it, they were at the king's rooms. Legolas made a futile attempt to break away. When that failed, he finally lost the battle against his legs and his knees gave way. Estel seemed to be ready for it and grabbed him with a firm arm around his waist, taking most of his weight.

Thranduil opened the door when Estel knocked, his eyes immediately going Legolas. He grabbed his son's shaking shoulders. "What is it? What has happened?"

"We need to talk to you," Estel said firmly. "May we come in?"

Thranduil stepped aside, ushering them to a long couch. He sat next to Legolas, who had Estel on his other side. "Ion nin?"

Legolas opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He had to say something, his Ada was looking more and more worried by the moment, but he couldn't push the words past the block of terror in his throat. What would his father think? Legolas' face burned with shame.

"Estel?" The king turned to the human. "What's going on here?"

Estel glanced at Legolas and seemed to realize that he wasn't able to speak. "Legolas. Hey, look at me. That's right. Take off your tunic. I think it'll be easiest if we show him."

Legolas desperately shook his head, trying to force words out of his traitorous mouth, but all that came out was a terrified cry.

Thranduil had had enough, and he reached for Legolas' tunic, pulling it over his head before Legolas could get himself together enough to struggle.

The silence that followed was deafening. Legolas saw his father's eyes go from his slashed-up arms to his prominent ribcage, his fingers absently working the padding Legolas had sewn into his tunic. The blood drained from the king's face. "Legolas?" he whispered. "What has happened to you?"

Legolas was more grateful than he could put into words when Estel took over. He told Thranduil everything. By the time he was done, Ada had tears running down his face, just as Legolas had feared. He'd hurt his father with his flaws. He shouldn't have let Estel tell him.

He couldn't meet his king's eyes. Estel's arm around his waist was the only thing keeping him from making a run for it. Legolas wanted nothing more than to disappear.

Aragorn

Aragorn feared that Thranduil would start interrogating Legolas, much as he himself had done, demanding to know where the crazy idea of needing to be perfect had come from. He could see that Legolas couldn't handle that right now, though, and sought to protect him.

He drew the king's attention. "I'm going to write to my Ada and ask him to come here and help Legolas. We'll know more after Ada examines and speaks to him, but for now, Legolas needs our support."

His words had the desired effect. Thranduil hastily wiped the tears off his face and put a hand under Legolas' chin, forcing his son to look at him.

"You are perfect, ion nin, just the way you are. I wouldn't have you any other way." He pulled Legolas into a tight hug. At first, Legolas was stiff in the embrace, but after a few moments, he melted into it.

"I'm not, Ada," he disagreed in a choked voice. "I'm weak and pathetic, and I can't even get through a normal day without attacking myself like a crazy person. I –"

"Shh, stop saying such things about yourself. Legolas, look at me. I love you. Nothing will ever change that, no matter what you do. No matter how you struggle, I would never think you weak. Do you understand?"

Legolas' face slowly crumpled as the tears started. Thranduil pulled him back into a tight hug, and then Legolas was clinging to his father like he'd clung to Aragorn earlier. "I'm such a failure," he wailed, pressing his head to his father's chest. "I can't do it anymore, Ada, it's too hard, please…"

Thranduil shot a panicked look at Aragorn, who moved closer, putting his arms around the prince so that Legolas was embraced on both sides. "We're going to find a way for you to do it," he promised. "Something that isn't this hard. No one deserves this, gwador, especially not you. We will help you, I promise."

Any doubts Aragorn had had about Thranduil's reaction were dispersed as the elven king pressed a kiss to his son's head. Aragorn knew that acceptance from his father was more healing for Legolas than it would be from anyone else.

He knew by now that there was no calming Legolas when he was this distraught; they simply had to wait it out. Legolas untangled one hand from Thranduil's tunic and reached back for Aragorn, who took his hand and squeezed it.

"Help," Legolas whispered. "Help, Estel." Aragorn knew now that before yesterday, the prince had never asked for help in his life, and he understood the strength and desperation that it took to utter the words now.

"I'm here, gwador. Tell me what you need."

Legolas just shook his head. He didn't know what he needed. Aragorn felt hopelessly out of his depth and he wished his Ada was here. He'd promised he wouldn't let Legolas drown, but he didn't know what to do.

Legolas' nails were digging into his hand, and his voice got higher and more breathless as feelings Aragorn could barely fathom wreaked havoc in his mind. The prince was doubled over as though in pain, but Aragorn knew that this pain wasn't physical in origin. "Estel… please…"

Thranduil was giving him increasingly panicked looks; he didn't know what to do either. Aragorn frantically tried to think. When he'd first been brought to Imladris, he'd had a hard time adjusting after the deaths of his biological parents. Elrond had comforted him in a number of ways, and he tried the same tactics now.

"Come on, let's get you into bed." He easily lifted Legolas' skeletal form and tucked him into the king's bed. He slipped in next to him and gestured to Thranduil, who was wringing his hands.

"Get some more blankets in here, and tell the servants to bring some warm milk with honey."

At any other time, it would be ludicrous, him giving orders to the king of Greenwood, but right now, Thranduil only looked relieved as he hurried to do as instructed. He heaped the blankets over Legolas, who was still shaking so hard that the entire bed was vibrating.

"Come, get in on his other side. Hold him tightly. Do you have any lullabies you used to sing him when he was a child?"

Thranduil nodded, pulling Legolas close to his chest. Aragorn moved with him so that the prince was sandwiched between the two of them. Thranduil stroked his son's hair and started singing softly. It seemed to work; the tune soothed Legolas, who slowly stopped shaking and sobbing, though the tears were still coming thick and fast.

When the warm milk and honey came, Aragorn slipped out of bed to take it from the servant and helped Legolas sit up to drink it. Soon afterward, Legolas fell into an exhausted sleep.

If Thranduil found it strange that he and Aragorn were ensconced in bed on either side of Legolas, he didn't say so. They both had bigger things to worry about right now.

"I never knew," the king said in a pained whisper. "How could I not know? He's my son. He could have killed himself. If he avoided food for long enough, or cut too deeply just once…"

"Legolas hid it well. I don't know all the answers, hir nin, but my Ada will. I'll write to him first thing tomorrow."

Thranduil nodded, not taking his eyes off Legolas. "Thank you, Estel. You have done more than I could ever repay. If you ever need anything, you have only to ask."

"All I want is for Legolas to be well. It hurts me to see him in so much pain."

"Me as well. It feels cruel, forcing him away from his coping strategies, even though I know they can't be allowed to continue. He's suffering so much… how many times has he enforced his own idea of perfection on himself with a knife or by refusing to eat? What would ever give him the idea that I would want this for him?"

"I don't know," Aragorn said sadly, stroking Legolas' hair. "Ada will find out, I'm sure of it."

Thranduil nodded. "I'll see to it that the message is sent first thing tomorrow. What about Legolas? Should we move him? I'm not sure if it's safe to leave him alone."

"It's not," Aragorn agreed. "Let's leave him here for tonight – we don't want to wake him up. I think he might be more comfortable in his own chambers in future, though. With your permission, I will stay there with him."

"Of course. Thank you, Estel."

The two of them fell into silence, both watching Legolas as he slept. Though he didn't know Thranduil well, at this moment, he and Aragorn understood each other perfectly. They both just wanted Legolas to be ok.