Growing Pains- Chapter 13

Sorry for the wait! I got back from Barcelona an hour or so ago, after having spent two hours sitting with a guy kicking the back of my seat. That was fun.

Barcelona was great, though. We were doing a lot of work, studying flash flooding and rebranding and other stuff, but we did get some time in the city centre. I had the most amazing macaroon (if you don't know what those are, you need to find out). It was caramel and was honestly like heaven.

And I saw a poster for the Hobbit on the side of a bus! It's only twelve days until I get to go see it... I AM SO EXCITED!

Anyway, here is the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far.

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

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Estel woke up to the sound of soft voices.

He blinked heavily, trying to make his eyes focus. When they did, he was only more confused, until he realised the blanket he was sleeping under was covering his eyes. He flipped it back and peered out from under the wool.

Elrohir was still asleep, but was turned on his side now, the gash on his head still covered in bandages. Elladan was still sat beside him, in the same clothes he had worn riding in. Legolas was on the opposite bed, half sitting up against the headrest. His ankle was propped up on a folded blanket, and Estel could see from where he was lying that he was still shivering slightly, and sweat was beginning to bead across his forehead.

Legolas was talking, and Estel tried to wake himself up enough to hear what he was saying.

"-get some rest," Legolas was saying. "You need it, Elladan, look at yourself. I'm pretty sure you haven't slept since I arrived. We didn't go inside at all the first night I was here, and then I know you spent the next night packing. After that none of us slept at all. You need to rest."

"No," said Elladan quietly. "I'm staying here. You know I am, Legolas. Don't try and force me."

"I will if I have to," said Legolas, and his voice was harsher this time. "I'm not letting you do this to yourself just because Elrohir has been hurt."

"Leave it, Legolas," said Elladan, his voice weary and slightly bitter. "I don't want to go through this again."

"So you remember what happened last time?" asked Legolas, a slight wry amusement in his voice. His voice suddenly dropped and became almost pleading. "Saes, Elladan, just listen to me."

For a moment Estel thought Elladan would. But then, from his position on his side on the bed, he saw his brother's shoulders tense. "Give it up, Legolas," he muttered. "Just stop it. I won't go."

Estel could see the stubborn set of Elladan's shoulders, and how Legolas was gritting his teeth. He thought now was maybe a good time to wake up. If nothing else, it would distract his brother and Legolas.

He faked a yawn and sat up, his head twanging with the start of a headache and his arm throbbing. He rubbed at the cast absently. It itched.

Very early morning light was filtering through the windows. Estel swung his legs off the bed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just gone dawn," said Elladan absent-mindedly. He then realised that he had acknowledged Estel, and his face abruptly became blank. Estel sighed.

His eyes flickered over to where Elrohir was curled on his side on the bed. "Did he wake up?" he asked. Last time he had seen his brother, Elrohir had been flat out on his back. "You should have woken me."

"He wasn't really awake," said Legolas softly. "Just enough to turn over and murmur something that we couldn't understand, before he fell asleep again. Elrond looked him over. He's a little better."

"Good," murmured Estel. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots. They were still muddy from yesterday. It was strange. It seemed like everything had happened far longer ago than yesterday. He half-heartedly tried to scrape the mud off of them, before remembering that they were in the healing wards and that would be a bad idea. He tried to kick the small clumps of mud under the bed.

"He's still unconscious, though," said Elladan softly. "He will be for a while longer, and we have no idea how coherent he will be when he wakes."

Legolas allowed a small smile to play across his lips. "Elrohir has taken harder knocks to the head than this, Elladan. As have you. And myself."

Elladan simply shook his head. "Not that much harder," he murmured. "And the harder times were close, Legolas. You know this."

"Aye, but I also know that it will do no good for you or for Elrohir if you keep on like you are. For the sake of the Valar, you haven't even changed your clothes, Elladan! If you do not want to sleep, then at least go and get us some food, and change into some clean clothes."

Elladan shook his head again. "I'm not leaving, Legolas."

"Ai Valar, Elladan, stop being so stubborn!" said Estel exasperatedly, having listened in to the conversation. Elladan's shoulders instantly tensed, and he slowly turned around to where Estel was sitting on the bed.

"I didn't ask you, Estel," he said softly. "And I will not listen to you try and make me leave as well. You haven't left since we came in here."

"That is because I was sleeping," pointed out Estel. "Elladan, you look terrible. Get some rest."

"Ai Valar, will you two leave me alone?" said Elladan exasperatedly.

Legolas shook his head, and levered himself to his feet. His ankle shook underneath him as he did so, but he only grimaced slightly and limped over to where Elladan was sitting.

"Elladan," he said, and his voice was soft. "Don't do this to yourself. Saes." He moved closer and gripped the back of Elladan's chair. "Just go and change into clean clothes," he said imploringly. "Get us all something to eat. You can leave Elrohir for a little while. Nothing will happen when you turn your back."

Elladan looked up at Legolas. "How do you know that?" he asked softly. He shook his head. "Better I am here, Legolas. Don't try to persuade me."

Legolas gripped Elladan's shoulder. "Saes," he said, and Estel saw a hint of what looked like grief pass over his face, and he wondered why. Legolas moved around so he was standing in front of Elladan. "Elladan," he said. "Saes."

Elladan sighed bitterly. "Will you not stop it, Legolas?" he asked, standing up abruptly and grabbing the blond elf's hand from his shoulder. With a bitter look he pushed it away, shoving Legolas back with a push to his chest.

Legolas stumbled back, and that was where it went wrong. Legolas put his entire weight on his injured ankle as he stepped backwards, the one that was already weak and should really not be supporting much at all. Before he could do anything it gave out underneath him. There was a sickening tearing sound, and suddenly red blood began to blossom on the bandages.

Legolas bit his lip and hissed in pain, sinking to the floor and his body trying to involuntarily curl in around his ankle to protect it. The bandages were slowly turning bloody.

Elladan jumped up as soon as he realised what he had done, closely followed by Estel. "Elbereth," Elladan muttered under his breath. "Ai Valar, Legolas, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do this."

Legolas looked up from where he was half slouched on the floor, his bloody ankle now out in front of him. His hands were clenched into fists, and he was making a visible effort to not grab the ankle. He knew it would only make it worse.

Elladan reached out with a tentative hand towards Legolas. He almost seemed to sigh in relief when Legolas reached up and grabbed hold of it, and then he pulled the blond elf to his feet. Legolas winced at the movement, and kept his bloody ankle off of the ground.

"I know you didn't," he said softly. "It's alright, Elladan, it really is. I've only torn the stitches. It's not too bad."

"Sit down," said Elladan, slinging one of Legolas' arms over his shoulder and helping him limp over to the other bed. "Let me stitch it."

"Elladan, I mean it when I say I want you to go and get some rest and some food," said Legolas, grimacing as he swung his ankle up onto the bed. "I can wait a little longer. Or your father could be fetched."

"No," said Elladan quickly. Part of him was definitely accepting the blame for this, and he didn't want his father to know what had happened. Another part of him knew that Elrond would find out regardless, but still…

Besides, he did not know where his father was right now. Glorfindel should be returning soon, and maybe Elrond had gone to meet the elf. His father had actually left quite soon after Elrohir had briefly woken. Maybe he wanted to give them some space. The Valar knew they needed it.

Well, he needed it. He could never stand seeing his brother hurt, or anyone he loved being hurt. Ever since…

No, it would not do to dwell on such thoughts. Elladan grimaced slightly. He saw sense in Legolas' words, knew that his clothes were bloody and muddy and generally covered in filth, and that they were all hungry and tired. Yet he could not bear to leave his brother.

Legolas, almost sensing Elladan's indecision, smiled up at him. "You can leave him," he said softly. "I promise you nothing will happen."

Elladan shook his head. "Someone needs to see to your ankle," he said defiantly.

"I can do it." Estel wasn't sure what made him offer to help, but he could see that Elladan was on the verge of leaving, and that he needed to leave as well. Besides, he knew how to stitch and bandage wounds. He could help.

"I can help," he said, when Legolas looked at him a little questioningly. "Adar taught me. Elladan, you know I am good. I can do it. Go and change clothes and get something to eat."

Legolas nodded. "If Lord Elrond has taught him, Elladan, then I trust him to do a fine job. Go."

Elladan sighed, and turned towards the door. He knew when to accept defeat, and it was clear that Legolas would get out of that bed, torn stitches in his ankle or not, and force him out if he did not go of his own free will. He looked back over his shoulder at Elrohir, on his side in the bed. The white bandage stood out against his brother's raven black hair.

He caught Legolas' eye, from where his friend lay on the bed. Estel was already beginning to gather everything he would need.

"Promise…?" he asked softly, fully aware that Legolas knew exactly what he was being asked to promise.

Legolas nodded. "I promise," he said, a sad smile on his face. Estel watched as the same flash of grief passed across his face again, and again he wondered why.

Elladan nodded, and turned and left. The door slowly swung shut behind him. Legolas sighed.

"Finally," he said softly. "I thought I wouldn't be able to persuade him this time."

Estel returned to the side of the bed, setting a bowl of hot water and some cloths down on the chest at the end of the bed. "What did you mean when you said you promised?" he asked. "And why did you both seem sad when you were saying it?"

Legolas grimaced as he shifted to try and find a more comfortable position. "You are observant, aren't you?" he asked with a smile. "It happened a while ago, but neither of us have managed to forget. That is one of the reasons Elladan was so reluctant to leave the room, even to just change his clothes."

"What happened?" asked Estel as he began to cut away the bloody bandages around Legolas' ankle. Legolas grimaced. "Do you want something to take the edge of the pain?" asked Estel as he pulled the bandages away.

Legolas shook his head, and Estel sighed. "Let me rephrase that. I am going to give you something to take the edge of the pain. Do you want to have it sweetened or not? Here's a clue: the answer to that questions depends on how easily you co-operate."

Legolas chuckled. "I shall have it, then," he said. Estel smiled and handed over a small earthen cup. Legolas drank it down quickly. He pulled a face. "Even sweetened with honey it tastes foul."

Estel smiled a little. "Anyway, what happened?" he asked as he dipped a cloth in the warm water and began to clean the blood away from the wound.

Legolas' face went a little harsher. "It was about three, maybe four hundred years ago. I was here in Imladris, and Elladan, Elrohir and I went out riding into the mountains. There had been reports of increased orc activity through the pass from the Rangers, and so we went to investigate."

Legolas sighed. "It went wrong. We were ambushed, and only barely managed to get out of there alive. We all took wounds, but Elrohir's were worst. As usual, we were rushing. Elladan, the least wounded of us, stitched us both up, and we headed back to Imladris."

"It wasn't enough." Legolas' gaze darkened. "Elrohir's wounds became infected two days out of Imladris. That night, he was unconscious. We rode as fast as we could back home, and all three of us ended up in here when we arrived. At first, it looked like we were all going to be alright."

Legolas shifted on the bed, grimacing as Estel finished cleaning the wounds and threaded a needle. Carefully he began to stitch.

Legolas continued. "Elladan had left the room for only a few minutes when Elrohir suddenly got worse. And by worse, I mean really bad. Someone ran for Elladan, but in the time that it took to find him and bring him back, Elrohir had nearly died and then become stable again. Ever since then, anybody has a hard time getting Elladan to leave the room when his brother is unconscious. It works the other way round as well, but Elladan especially. He is terrified of coming back to find his brother dead."

Estel's eyes were wide as he listened. The thing he found worst was not, actually, what had actually happened. He knew both his brothers had been injured badly before. The thing that was frightening him a little now was the way that Legolas spoke so easily of the event, so matter of fact, like he was not talking about the fact that his friend had nearly died. Was this what he himself would eventually become? Would he eventually lose all sense of horror at things like this, because it had happened so many times already?

Legolas caught his surprised gaze. "What is it?" he asked, shifting and then wincing as it pulled on the new stitch in his ankle that Estel was tying off.

Estel shook his head, the main part of his concentration turning back to Legolas' ankle. "I just…never mind. Don't worry about it."

Legolas nodded. He watched as Estel put another neat stitch in his ankle. "You were not lying," he said with a smile. "You are good at this."

Estel shrugged. "When you have Elrond teaching you for years, you become quite good at this. It's just practise."

Legolas shook his head. "No, you have a knack for this, Estel. I have had practice, hundreds of years of practice. And I can safely say that your stitches are better than mine. Mine are good, good enough to keep someone patched up, but I am no healer. You could be."

Estel shrugged again, concentrating on putting in another stitch. "Maybe," he said.

"Do you want to be?" asked Legolas, hissing as the needle bit into the muscle in his ankle.

"No," said Estel shortly. "I want to be a warrior. I want to learn to fight."

"You know how to fight," pointed out Legolas. Estel sighed and rolled his eyes. That wasn't what he had meant. He knew how to defend himself, certainly. He knew how to fight, in a sense, but he didn't know how to fight at the same time. He didn't know how to fight like his brothers and Legolas could fight. There was a difference between fighting to defend yourself and fighting like a warrior.

That could probably be put more eloquently, thought Estel, but it was the best he could come up with. His brothers had always taught him well, taught him to defend himself and use a sword, but it was not the same.

Legolas was watching him almost expectantly, and Estel sighed. "It's not the same, what they've taught me," he muttered as he bent over Legolas' ankle. "My brothers, even Glorfindel, have taught me well, but I just always feel like they are holding back on me, not teaching me everything they could."

"You have not had long to learn," pointed out Legolas.

Estel grimaced. "That is exactly why I am irritated," he muttered. "That is what they always say: you have plenty of time to learn, you don't need to rush. In case you haven't noticed, Legolas, I am mortal. I don't have a lot of time to learn. I don't have the hundreds of years that you and my brothers have had to become perfect."

At that Legolas snorted slightly. "We're far from perfect, Estel."

Estel chuckled. "Believe me, I know," he said. "But still, what I said stands." He shook his head, a sigh forcing its way out through his lips. "I don't know how you do it," he muttered.

"What?" asked Legolas.

Estel put down the needle and thread and turned to him. "How in the name of the Valar have you done it for all these years?" he asked. "I have had a tiny taste of what you and my brothers go through and I was terrified, I really was. How have you managed it for so long?"

Legolas shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply. "I really don't. You will understand when you get older, Estel, and then you will not be able to explain it as well."

Estel pulled a face. "That's what my brothers say. Don't start saying it as well."

Legolas chuckled. "It won't happen again," he said with a smile. Estel picked up the needle and began to put another stitch into Legolas' ankle.

"Last one," he said with a smile. "Then I can bandage it." Legolas shifted uncomfortably on the bed and wiped one hand over his forehead. Estel frowned, and then reached up and placed the back of his hand on Legolas' forehead, Legolas half-heartedly attempting to swat the hand away.

"You're hot," he said. He sighed. "That's why you are restless as well. You knew you had a fever, didn't you?"

Legolas shifted slightly. "Your father knew," he muttered. "It hasn't climbed much."

Estel grinned slightly. "You are like my brothers when it comes to injuries, you know that? But it's not too bad. I won't even make you drink something foul. Just keep drinking water and get some rest." He finished off the final stitch and grabbed a roll of white bandages from the chest at the end of the bed.

Legolas chuckled, and Estel frowned. He began to carefully wrap the bandages around Legolas' ankle. "Why aren't you angry?" he murmured softly, his eyes quickly darting up to Legolas' face and then back again.

Legolas stilled his restless movements, and looked over at Estel. "Why should I be?" he asked.

Estel rolled his eyes. "Isn't it a bit obvious?" he said scathingly. "I messed up. I caused all of this: Elrohir's injury, everything. It is my fault. Why aren't you angry?"

Legolas shrugged. "I was," he said. "When I first saw you, I was angry that you were there. But in the middle of a battle, you don't have time to think about things like that, so I didn't. And then afterwards…" He chuckled morosely. "I don't know."

Estel raised one eyebrow and Legolas chuckled. "You know you look remarkably like Lord Elrond when you do that."

Estel grinned a little. "I know. But seriously, is that all you are going to say, that you don't know? You can do better than that." He lifted up Legolas' ankle and pushed the roll of bandages underneath it. "Tell me. I'm pretty certain Elladan is furious at me. Why aren't you?"

"You have not been to Mirkwood?" asked Legolas. Estel shook his head. "Things are different in Mirkwood. I have seen plenty of younger elves try to prove themselves. Sometimes things have gone wrong in the process. Sometimes things go wrong anyway."

Estel snorted. "So what?" he asked. "I am mortal, not an elf. Another thing which my brothers either completely forget or take great care in noticing, depending on how it will help them. They say I have plenty of time to learn, when I do not. Yet they are swift to protect me because I am not as strong, or as fast, or as agile as an elf."

"Your brothers' fault is that they love you," said Legolas softly. "You are their brother, and after everything that they have seen it is only fair that they want to keep you from seeing the same. I am not saying they are right," he added as Estel shot a glare his way. "But they have their reasons. Much like you did," he added pointedly.

Estel sighed, finishing off the bandage and tying it off. "You still haven't explained why you are not angry," he pointed out. Legolas chuckled.

"You are more like your brothers than you may realise," he said with a smile. "You are irritatingly stubborn."

Estel grinned. "I learnt from the best," he said. "Now tell me."

"Elbereth," said Legolas with a roll of his eyes. "I will try." He shifted so he was sitting up a little more.

"I can't stay angry at you, Estel, because I know you did it for the right reasons. I know you have a good heart, and that even if you were trying to prove yourself, you were also trying to help. Besides, I have had plenty of time to become accustomed to things like this happening. You are not so different from an elf, Estel. I was in the battle outside Erebor, and men fought with just as much ferocity and instinct as elves." Legolas' face clouded over. "They died the same as well."

"Anyway, I don't see much point in being angry at you. Elladan is only angry because he was really scared for you, his little brother, and it will wear off soon." Legolas grinned. "Trust me, he will be apologising in a day."

Estel grinned and ducked his head almost shyly, and Legolas smiled. He had meant it, what he had said, and it was true that he didn't see much point in being angry at the young man. He had seen enough of war and death to know that it just wasn't worth it.

Estel didn't say anything else, and almost jumped up from the chair at the edge of the bed where he had been sitting. "Get some sleep," he mumbled as he turned away with the remainder of the equipment he had been using. Legolas smiled as he turned on his side and watched Estel carefully tidy up. The young man moved over to the side of Elrohir's bed and straightened the sheets, checking the bandage around his head. Estel's hand rested for a brief moment over Elrohir's shoulder.

Legolas smiled again, his eyes slowly unfocusing as he drifted off to sleep. It really wasn't worth it at all.

To Be Continued...

There are still things to come- Elladan hasn't forgiven Estel yet, Elrohir hasn't woken up and there are still about 25,000 words to publish! Next chapter will be up on Wednesday. As always, reviews are very welcome.