A/N: Hey everyone here, finally is the next chapter. I've just had the hardest time finishing it because it's just not an exciting chapter and it's mostly Legolas….Please stop throwing things at me. I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I felt this was an important chapter…not sure why, but there you have it. I've written it so now it's finally here. I've hopefully at least made it really angsty and I think you'll find the ending to be quite the cliff hanger, which I normally don't like cliff hangers, but I thought it might make up for what I think is a somewhat dry connecting chapter. The main purpose of this chapter is develop Legolas' feelings for Estel and his loathing for Firithgalad. I as always apologize for the grammatical mistakes. I didn't even reread this one so I know it's horrible. I was finally hit with a writers bug and wanted to finish and I know you guys have been waiting for ever (wink wink certain 100th reviewer) and so I thought I might as well post it. I hope you still enjoy and I've started writing a little of the next chapter which I promise has lots of Estel, lots of angst, and another cliff hanger ending! Enjoy in my good health….lol! And remember to take up all complaints with Legolas since this is his crappy chapter. Lol.
Chapter Five: Payment by Blood
Legolas followed some unforeseen route through the palace halls contemplating the strange occurrences he had faced throughout the day. First, a human slave boy with some uncanny ability to instill hope, to such an extend it became a power all its own, then suddenly the prince finds he has developed his own special ability to fight off the dark influences of Sauron, and now he was starting to hear voices that seemingly no one else seemed able to hear.
Was any of this real or was he going mad? Perhaps it was all just some bizarre dream he was having, but Legolas had to admit it seemed awfully vivid for a dream, even an elvish dream.
The elf prince closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to awaken, giving himself a pinch in the arm for good measure while he was at it.
After a few hesitant moments feeling no particular change, Legolas lifted his eyelids expectantly, but rather than being within his soft cushioned bed, he remained obstinately in this hallway.
Perhaps it wasn't a dream after all, Legolas thought resignedly, as bizarre as this day seemed to be going. Perhaps he truly was going mad after all, certainly not the ideal alternative.
And if it wasn't a dream then he had just made an absolute fool of himself. Legolas felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment. He cast surreptitious glances down both sides of the walkway, fearful someone had seen him standing in the middle of the hallway looking like he'd lost his mind.
While he might very well be mad that did not mean he was inclined for the whole palace to know of it. He could just imagine the lecture he would receive from his father should the king hear of this.
Thankfully….mercifully his surveillance met with no results. It seemed the Valar was with him today after all.
And yet something just didn't seem quite right. He had this nagging sense of unease coming over him making him feel nervous.
The air held itself in tense anticipation as though some dark deed had been done or was about to be.
Legolas walked down the hallway cautiously, his body tensed in expectation for unknown disaster.
His sharp eyes slowly spotted a huddled form materializing in his vision. The unknown thing as he could as yet term it was still quite some distance away, yet his blood was thudding with urgency that demanded he throw away all caution.
The elf prince felt a longing to run towards this unknown object, least he remain a moment longer with such a mystery left unknown, but years of training stilled his impatience lest he sacrifice caution to his own detriment.
The prince compromised increasing his pace, if but slightly; while keeping his senses fine tuned to danger.
Legolas approached the crumpled form warily, gripping one of his elven daggers reassuringly should some threat occur. As the prince made out the form of an adult human female he allowed the grip on his knife to ease, as his warrior skills informed him there was no threat.
Legolas knelt by the young woman observing her curiously. The woman's eyes were closed leaving the young prince confused. Elves slept with there eyes open, but he was not sure the same held true for humans. He was sure he recalled hearing once that humans preferred to sleep with their eyes closed, a strange abnormality to be sure.
However the elf prince felt quite certain this woman was not asleep belied by the broken dishes scattered across the carpet, precious china ground unsalvageable into the carpet.
The woman lay on her back with her head slouched against a small hallway table used to hold decorative vases of flowers.
There were similar such tables placed periodic down the long hallways of the palace to give a more natural feel to these cold stone walls.
The vase from this particular flower arrangement lay in shattered pieces mixed in with some broken tea cups. Legolas quickly surmised the woman before she had met this unexpected fate, must have been delivering afternoon tea to someone, most like his father.
A small puddle of water had pooled upon the table trickled preciously onto the carpet making an almost eerie dripping sound.
The territory looked like a disaster area at the moment, sending a thrill of apprehension up the prince's spine. What had caused this devastation? Surely not the woman. What had happened here?
Legolas looked at the young human woman uncertain what to do. Was she injured…why did she lay there so strangely….was she dead? He knew nothing of human physiology and he was no healer.
The human did seem a bit paler than human's usually did, but Legolas wasn't positive it wasn't his own misinformation that made him assume so. He reached his hand tentatively out to touch her hand.
He jerked back as though scalded as he left a small red imprint on her skin.
Legolas lifted his hand shakily into his eye sight afraid of what he might see. His hand was covered in a red sticky substance filled with the noxious odor of iron. The prince had seen the likes of such far too many times to be ignorant of the fluid substance….blood.
It took the prince a panicked moment to realize the blood must surely be this woman's and not his own, for it did not bear the slight silver tinge that was found in elf blood.
He followed his line of sight back to the source of this red fluid and was aghast to see a puddle pooling under the prone woman's still form, staining the carpet permanently in it's crimson sheen.
The prince was aghast to find the blood has already begun to leak unto the knees of his pants, soaking further and further up his person like some dark tide or red.
He shuddered forcing his eyes away from the encroaching red and brought his mind back to the task at hand. From where on this human did the blood originate? He could see no noticeable wounds on her person, it could surely be anywhere.
Legolas debated running for a healer, afraid to leave the unconscious woman alone should something happen to her. What if the woman's assailant returned to finish his ghastly deed. Legolas would never forgive himself should he allow a helpless woman to fall to such a fate.
The prince looked frantically around the hallway, hoping someone was in shouting distance, but alas the hall stayed disturbingly empty. While only moments ago such isolation had seemed a blessing, a now it had become a curse.
Legolas felt movement beneath his fingertips and jerked quickly around to see the woman slowly coming back to consciousness.
The elf prince sighed with relief. At least she wasn't dead then. She had laid so still before the young prince had been fearfully uncertain.
The woman began to moan softly as she tried moving stubbornly sluggish limbs in an attempt to gain some semblance of her predicament. Her eyes opened hesitantly looking about with an unfocused daze while her mind struggled to reorganize.
Legolas simply watched the scene uncertainly, unsure how best to assist the woman.
After a few moments the woman finally seemed to focus in on the prince, her face contorting from confusion into terrified anxiety.
The woman wept fearfully as she cringed away from the prince.
"Shhh… it is well." Legolas answered soothingly. "I will not hurt you. You have nothing to fear. Please, who did this to you? How did you come to be in such a state?"
The woman slowly and agonizingly tried to force herself to a sitting position, continuing to watch the prince with wide startled eyes.
Legolas gently helped the woman rise, leaning her up against the wall where she breathed haggardly as exhaustion overcame her from even so simple a task.
She tensed at the prince's contact, but made no comment as the prince helped her rise.
Legolas quickly removed his hands once he had helped her up not wishing to cause the distraught woman further discomfort, but before the prince could take his hands away a safe distance the woman snapped out her hand like a viper onto his wrist holding the prince like a life-line.
The prince gazed guardedly at the woman as he felt her nails burrowing into his skin drawing pin pricks of blood.
The slave woman looked at the prince with pleading eyes that immediately sent a flutter of fear in his stomach.
"Pleaze help him. My Eztel. Don let him hurt my Eztel. He'z jus a boy. Have merzy." The woman implored, her words sluggishly following over stiff lips.
Legolas' brows crinkled in worry afraid the woman must surly have a concussion of some sort to be speaking so disorganized.
"Eztel?" Legolas asked allowed. The women sluggish words made them difficult to decipher. After a few moments of thought the word rang with cold clarity. "Estel. Are you talking about Estel?" Legolas asked the woman.
"He took him. He'z not a bad boy. Pleaze he'z just a child. Don't let him have him." She pleaded her eyes seem to go in and out of focus as she spoke.
The sheer fear and desperation in the woman's voice chilled the prince to the bones. Though the woman seemed disorganized in thought and speech her message could be nothing more than clear….Estel was in danger.
"Who has taken Estel? Who wants to hurt him?" Legolas commanded as he held the woman's face in his hands, trying to get the woman's thoughts in order, as fear choked at the young prince's heart.
He scarcely knew this young slave boy and yet he could not bear to see the child harmed. A cloying sense of terror nearly kept him paralyzed with fear as he felt the danger crackling in the tensed air, as though the world held it's breathe for some great tragedy to occur.
Legolas felt certain that at this moment the very fate of middle earth hung in the balance. Should the boy die today all would be for naught. The elf prince did not stop to question why he thought these things. While the survival of middle earth was the most important thing, at the moment in the mind of a terrified elven prince it took second fiddle to the life of one young human slave boy.
"Tell me who has taken Estel? Where is he?" Legolas shook the woman frantically trying to pull answers from her addled mind.
"The forest. He'z inz the forezt." The woman strained slowly, seeming to have to force out coherency.
Legolas felt his innards freeze. The forest? Where in the forest? The boy could be miles from here now. Who knew how long ago the child had been taken away or even what direction. It was a futile pursuit. The sun was already starting it's descent beneath the mountains. It would surely be dark before a search party could be formed.
The elf prince felt despair grip his heart. He had failed this boy who had become his friend. Legolas forced burning tears of resentment from his eyes feeling wholly disgusted with himself.
The child had been scared. He had not wanted to leave the safety of the prince's chambers, but Legolas had forced him out. It was Legolas' fault the boy had suffered. He had sent Estel to his doom. And the prince would never even know the boy's murder…
And then the realization hit Legolas with deadly certain. Firithgalad! Estel had been afraid of the elf guard and Firithgalad had been embarrassed because of the human.
It was obvious the guard had left bitter, but Legolas had never imagined the elf would stoop so far as to harm the boy in retaliation. If the elf had anyone to be mad at it was Legolas, he was the one who had belittled the guard. He was the one who had demanded Firithgalad debase himself. Estel had done nothing… nothing except for the fact of being human, and in the elf guard's eyes inferior.
Legolas was to blame for all of it. He had truly hurt the boy more than he had helped him by shaming the quick tempered guard. And now young Estel paid the price for his own folly.
Legolas squared his shoulders determinedly. He could not give up now. He would go into the woods and find his young human friend, even should it mean riding through the forests in the dark of night.
And should it be too late? Legolas' mind cruelly whispered. Then Firithgalad would share his fate. The prince vowed.
Legolas had nearly set himself to begin forming a search party, when his eyes strayed to the weeping distraught slave woman. He had nearly forgotten about her.
He didn't know this anonymous woman's relation to young Estel…she seemed too old to be his mother, perhaps his grandmother? He couldn't be certain, but he couldn't just leave her here in any case.
She seemed now at a point of almost being complete oblivious with all that was around her. She was rocking herself back and forth whispering "My Eztel…My Eztel. Don'z hurz my Eztel" over and over while she bawled uncontrollably, loss in her own world.
Legolas could not just leave her like this. It was obvious she was in need of immediate medical attention, that Legolas was ill equipped to provide. She needed a physician.
Legolas quickly decided he would take the woman to the healing wing and then he would set out to search.
"Come with me and I will find you help." Legolas whispered quietly as he helped the woman wobbly to her feet.
The woman had stopped her moaning and now remained eerily silent as she wavered unsteadily on her stubbornly unsupportive legs.
The prince took much of the woman's weight, as he wrapped his arms firmly around her to keep her upright.
The elf prince slowly led the dazed woman down the hallway whispering soothing words of comfort and encouragement while he seethed inside at the lack of progress. It was painfully slow nearly dragging the disabled woman down the long endless hallway.
But the prince forcefully gritted his teeth against his own seething impatience, a rare and decided unpleasant feeling, as he continued to prod the woman foreward as quickly as he was able.
"I promise you I will find Estel and should I fail he will be avenged. His death will not go unpunished this I swear." Legolas promised the woman. While He was unsure if this woman was Estel's mother, she was obviously fond of the boy, and thus he made his vow of vengeance to her.
"Please bring him home." The woman implored looking more lucid then she had since Legolas had come upon her. "Please lord." The woman turned pleading hopeful eyes to the prince, silently begging him to bring the child home safe.
"I shall do all in my power to see it so." Legolas promised. "It was Firithgalad that took him wasn't it? Do you know which way he's gone?"
The woman stiffened at the mention of the elf guard's name, but offered no confirmation or negation to the question, rather choosing to ignore it all together. "I don'z knoz where he's gone, my lorz. He takez themz to the woodz to hunt. I don know wherz he goez." The woman answered the lucidity slowing fading away again in a tide of confusion.
Legolas was unsure who "themz" was, but the prince had a sinking suspicion. And it filled the young prince with incomprehensible horror. Would an elf truly take out humans and hunt them for sport? What monster could do such a thing? That was an act one would associate with orcs not elves. It disgusted the prince to the very core of his being. Firithgalad had much to answer for.
Legolas felt a chill of fear run through his body as he imagined poor Estel running through the dark forest…running for his very life. The boy must be so frightened, not knowing where to go or what to do, fatigue and despair eating away his resolve.
Damn these tears that stung his eyes.
Legolas' forced them away with his free hand. He pushed their pace faster willing Estel to stay safe until he could come for him.
Legolas felt his arm muscles straining against the force of the woman's weight, and knew he would have to pause a moment and rest or risk dropping the slave women and causing her further damage.
The pause needled at the prince, for every moment could mean the difference between the life or death of his new young friend. He would never forgive himself should he come too late.
Legolas gently sat the women upon the floor, leaning her gently against the wall. The injured slave had gone strangely quiet though she seemed awake if only barely. The woman's eyes drooped exhaustedly and her breathing was a bit heavy considering how little energy she was expending, but Legolas remained hopeful she would be well once gotten to the healers.
He took a few deep breaths and allowed the blood to flow back into his arms, anxiety eating at him every second he wasted.
After only a few moments of rest he slowly helped the woman to rise again. Legolas whispered soothing words of encouragement to the woman trying to boost her spirits as well as his own. He was uncertain if his efforts had any effect of the slave woman, but it did help ease his own nerves, something to thing about other than Estel's uncertain fate.
He could afford no more time for comfort. There simply was no time left.
As they started foreward again the woman became tense and started to pull anxiously at the prince's grip. she must be delirious Legolas thought worriedly as the woman, with a panicked look of terror on her face continued to thrash weakly though unsuccessfully against the prince's hold, as though she no longer realized whom he was.
"Please stop this madness." Legolas tried reasoning with her. "You'll hurt yourself."
Having been distracted by the woman's antics Legolas' keen ears were slow to picked up the sound of soft foot falls approaching. The prince's face perked up hopeful. Was someone coming who could help? Someone who could help Legolas get this injured woman to the healers all the quicker and then to Estel's aid?
Legolas tried whispering calm soothing elvish words to the woman hoping to calm her once more, but as the footfalls came closer the woman seemed to grow more distraught. The prince simply could not explain this strange behavior.
He began to fear the woman if not calmed would surely cause herself further injury or seeing as he was in her general range might very well find himself injured as well. And at the moment he could not afford to be incapacitated in any fashion…estel's life might very well depend on his coming to his aid as quickly as possible.
"Please hush." Legolas whispered worriedly. "You must be calm lest you cause yourself further injury."
And then as quickly as it came the bout of madness ended and the woman lagged weakly against the prince, much to his mutual relief and concern.
Legolas eyes the woman apprehensively afraid the slightest movement might very well set her off again.
The woman was breathing heavily and her skin was pale and had a sweaty sheen to it that made it reflect the light of the candles lining the hallway.
Her face still remained morphed in a look of abject terror and she turned wide dazed eyes on the prince. Legolas could see the seeming resignation and hopelessness of the woman as her whole body spoke of utter desolation.
Had something happened to Estel? Legolas thought worriedly. Had the woman felt it? Was Estel hurt…injured…or perhaps dead? The prince refused to think of the thought.
Surely he would have felt it if something had become of the boy. Estel was a part of him now. The second the boy had touched his hand there had been an irrevocable bond between them. He would know if the boy had come to harm. He thought with certainty. He would have felt it.
"It will be well." Legolas replied comfortingly to the woman. "I will take you to the healers and they will care for you and then I will go and look for Estel. I will bring him back and all shall be well."
"Eztel. No don'z lez him hurz Eztel." The woman slurred out frantically as she began to weep helplessly.
Perhaps I should not have mentioned Estel the prince thought forlornly. He had only wished to comfort the woman, but it seemed he had only worried her further.
The woman's eyes widened seemingly further if that was possible and she fell strangely silent as she looked at something down the hallway. Then suddenly she burst out crying again and buried her face in the prince's chest. Her body was trembling noticeably against the prince…whomever was approaching seemed to be frightening the already distraught woman.
Legolas realized the approaching footsteps had stopped a few feet away, and he could almost feel the smoldering presence in the air.
Even so he looked up hopefully at this supposed savior. At last someone who could help him.
And then hope fell and was crushed under the cruel heel of despair.
Legolas could not prevent a silent gasp as he made out the expectant savior. It was none other than Firithgalad.
"No…Estel." Legolas whispered forlornly. If Firithgalad was here what did that mean for the young slave boy the elf guard had taken with him. Had Firithgalad caught the boy? Was he dead? Legolas shuddered at the thought refusing to accept it. No estel was alive. The boy was resourceful he had gotten away some how, escaped into the forest.
And yet Legolas could not allow this thoughts to appease his worried conscience. What were the chances a young human boy come ever hope to hide for a trained Mirkwood warrior who was well-experienced with these woods? And even if young Estel had managed to allude his pursuer there were still the evil creatures of the forest to contend with. Truly Estel was very like dead or soon to be.
But Legolas had to know….had to be certain. And if he was? If Estel was dead he vowed that Firithgalad's blood would flow this day in payment.
Legolas succored his building rage for the guard. He squared his shoulders, hefting the injured slave woman more securely in his arms, ignoring her silent whimpers, as he faced down the only elf he had ever come to hate.
"Firithgalad." Legolas shouted out challengingly. "Were is he? What have you done to him?"
The slave woman shuddered at the mention of Firithgalad's name. Legolas patted her soothingly calming her distress, however his eyes remained firmly planted upon his nemesis.
Firithgalad had finally gotten within speaking range and stopped abruptly.
Legolas almost couldn't prevent a gasp from erupting for his throat as he made out the red angry scar slashed haphazardly across the elf guards pale skin.
Blood dripped noticeably down the elf's cheek staining the guards shirt a pale crimson. Yet Firithgalad seemed oblivious of the ghastly wound scarring the once handsome face. While the scar would most likely not be permanent it would certainly be unpleasant and painful for a while if nothing else.
Legolas could see the obvious fury the seethed across the elf guard's face. Firithgalad was absolutely incensed with anger.
The golden-haired archer was uncertain how this boded for young Estel or for himself in this matter. He had a sinking concern that the elf guard might very well strike out at him should Firithgalad have the notion to. It appeared the elf had grown unstable in perhaps a potentially deadly way. Legolas had to use all his self control to keep from backing away from this malevolent being.
Legolas conspicuously eased a dagger from it's sheath preparing should he have to defend himself and his nearly unconscious charge.
Legolas was tempted to lay the woman down so he could better face his opponent, but he feared this slight lapse in concentration might be his downfall should Firithgalad choose such a moment to attack.
"Tell me Firithgalad. What did you do with the boy?" Legolas demanded again.
Firithgalad looked back at the prince, as though he had just noticed he was there. The anger fell away from his face, as though finally realizing who was addressing him. But the elf guard could not completely conceal his true feelings as his eyes continued to rage unhindered.
"What boy?" The guard asked dumbly.
"You know of what boy I speak….You will tell me what have you done with Estel." Legolas growled angrily all cordiality gone.
"So it is Estel now." Firithgalad sneered no longer caring about whom he was speaking to as his anger got the better of him.
"You act as though he's worthy of your attentions, but he is nothing more than a slave and a worthless one at that. A tool to be used and thrown away when it loses it's purpose…and he has indeed lost his purpose. Like that one you have leeching to you now. Give her to me and I'll see her properly dealt with." The guard sneeringly replied as he eyed the slave woman possessively.
"You'll not touch her." Legolas seethed dangerously between his teeth. He held the trembling woman tightly…protectively to him as he glared darkly at the elf guard. He had no idea why Firithgalad was so interested in this woman, but Legolas was certain his reasons were anything, but beneficent.
This action seemed more to amuse Firithgalad then waylay the foolish elf, an evil grin plastered to his face.
"Well she is a pretty thing. Perhaps you'd prefer to have a romp with her yourself. She's a bit old for my taste, in human terms that is, but she does still cut a comely figure. But if you'd like I could find you a more suitable candidate, your highness." Firithgalad answered bowing mockingly as he said the prince's title. "Just give me the woman and I can find you a far more suitable and assuredly more attractive young wench to meet your appetites."
Legolas blushed furiously at the elf guard's unrefined speech. It was well known that the prince had as yet never had a woman warm his bed sheets. It was surely a cruel and shameful jab at his malehood. But one he had no intention of addressing.
Legolas had no shame in that he had never shared his love with another female. The prince knew that such was a rare and precious gift that was seldom shared with anyone other than the woman you would bind with one day.
And worse yet Firithgalad would dare to speak of rape…a crime the elves held with the highest contempt be it elf or human involved. Such an act was believed to destroy the spirit and ultimately the soul of a person leaving them an empty shell to wander the earth…a fate considered worse than death. An elf could never live through such an experience…though it was said that humans had survived such encounters, perhaps proof in the strength of their character.
It was indeed a disturbing thought that an elf who was expected to protect you…to watch your back when danger called, lacked such a sense of morality.
"You will tell me where the boy is Firithgalad. I will not ask you again." Legolas replied dangerously. He had no time to dispute the qualities of honor, goodness, and what being an elf entailed. Estel could be dying somewhere at this very moment or at the very least in danger….that is if Firithgalad had not already finished the job.
Legolas fingered the hilt of his dagger openly making his intentions known.
Firithgalad eyed the prince, trying to determine if Legolas was serious or not. Staring a few seconds into the prince's eyes the elf guard was unable to hold Legolas' gaze and quickly dropped his eyes.
"He's in the woods….the little miscreant." Firithgalad seethed under his breath, not realizing or caring if the prince heard how he described the young slave boy.
"What did you do" Legolas demanded angrily though inwardly he sighed with relief. The boy really was alive.
His eyes burning ominously with his own pent up rage. Legolas fingered his dagger tempted to slit the traitorous elf's throat now, but no. He must find out what happened to Estel. Surely Firithgalad would not be so angry if the boy was dead…it could only mean one thing…that Estel had some how escaped perhaps leaving his mark on the elf guards cheek. It just had to be so. Legolas was unwilling to accept or believe otherwise until he was given due proof of the fact and then retribution would begin.
"He was misbehaving. He needed to be disciplined…so I took care of him." Firithgalad replied defensively, avidly avoiding the prince's gaze. Though the guard was unable to conceal his anger he had grown more wary and more tense while in the prince's presence.
He knew Legolas was a formidable foe, even hindered with the woman as he was. Firithgalad kept his hands in steady reach of his own weapons as the conversation progressed and the prince's temper flared.
"You took him to the woods to hunt him didn't you?" Legolas yelled unable to restrain himself any longer. "You hunted him like an animal. You're a monster."
Firithgalad's eyes widened in surprise and he looked up at the prince quickly..his hands now shaking as they gripped the dagger in his belt. His little "hunts" had always been kept strictly secret. Only his few most trusted friends even knew or on occasion participated in what truly happened when he took a slave outside the palace walls.
How had the prince found out? Who had dared betray him?
Firithgalad glared angrily as he imagined his vengeance on the fool who dared blurt out his secret. It seemed that in the near future some elf would be meeting with a most unfortunate hunting accident or perhaps be accidentally found in a spiders lair, or what if orcs should come upon him unawares. All these options seemed appealing, but then again Firithgalad had never hunted an elf before….the idea sounded quite invigorated.
But the boy first. The slave would pay and Firithgalad intended to savor every agonizing scream…The elf guard's eyes burned with an unholy light as self-righteousness over took him.
"He deserved it. He shamed me in front of you. He's always causing trouble. He needed to be put into his place. The boy was starting to get airs especially after you coddled him like he was worthy of your attention." Firithgald muttered darkly. "You should be thanking me for getting that troublemaker from out of your hair.
"You shamed yourself. The boy had nothing to do with it. If you wish someone to be angry with than be angry with me. It was I who challenged you, as is my right as your prince." Legolas answered with cold authority. "You have become corrupted with your own power. You are an elf…where if your compassion? Where is your goodness towards all life? What has given you such hate?"
Legolas shook his head sadly at the discovery that an elf could be so corrupted…could fall so far from the goodness and light of their people.
"Tell me is he…is Estel dead?" Legolas asked almost afraid to hear the answer. He had to know for certain that this wasn't all some cruel joke on Firithgalad's part…that the boy's cold lifeless body wasn't even now being ripped apart by wargs or some other Valar forsaken fate.
Firithgalad sneered at the sadness and pain the prince showed when he talked about the slave. How weak the prince had become all besought over some worthless slave, just like some emotionally fragile elf maiden. This was their prince, the elf meant one day to lead their kingdom, and all he could do was moan and whine about some meaningless human.
The boy in such a short time had already started to corrupt the prince with his foul weakness.
He should have killed the boy when he had the chance. But there would be other opportunities. The boy would die before he could reek any further havoc and perhaps even the prince would have to be reconditioned. His weakness would weaken the entire kingdom, and that could not be allowed to happen…even if that meant the prince would have to be gotten rid of as well….and that would not be so easy an action.
Yes the boy would pay dearly for causing him this extra hassle.
"No the boy's not dead…yet." Firthgalad muttered. He may have to play by the prince's rules for now, but not forever. They would have their reckoning soon enough.
"Lord Elrond came upon us after the boy gave me this." Firithgalad touched the scar across his face a fresh wave of anger distorted his features. The shame of being bested by a human and a boy at that. If nothing else such an action in itself should be a death penalty against the little miscreant.
If the prince refused to carry it out, which he doubted by the way the prince coddled his little human pet, he would just have to ensure the proper punishment was carried out himself.
"The boy escaped into the forest after Elrond and his sons distracted me. They went after the slave after ordering me back to the palace. "
Legolas knew little of Lord Elrond, except his father's own obvious dislike of the half-elf and his offspring. They had only met on a few scarce formal occasions and then only spoken the brief formalities required between guest and host.
But Legolas had heard rumors of the elf lord that he had no slaves of his own and abhorred the practice all together. He could only hope that Lord Elrond would take pity on the boy and see him brought safely to the palace.
After all Lord Elrond was a great healer. Surely a healer would be obligated to tend to even an injured slave or risk denouncing his own calling.
But even so Legolas had no intention of leaving Estel's fate in such uncertain hands.
Finding new strength Legolas lifted the nearly unconscious slave woman into his arms and began walking quickly down the hallway.
"Firithgalad you will follow me and as soon as I have seen this woman safely to the healing ward you will take me to the place where you last saw the boy. And once I have seen the boy cared for you, I, and my father will be having a discussion about your recent conduct."
Firithgalad with a disgruntled sneer followed meekly behind the prince. He petted his dagger lovingly imagining drawling the deadly weapon from smoothly from it's sheath and stabbing it through the prince's unsuspected and even still far too trusting heart watching as the life faded from the elf prince's eyes.
But alas it was too soon. This was simply not the place or the time. The chance of discover was too great….and he had no desire to meet the executioners block because of his own impatience.
The prince continued now more dragging than helping the slave woman towards the healing wing…keeping his senses attuned to any indiscretion on Firithgalad's part. He certainly had no intention of trusting the elf guard, whom he had once trusted with his very life, not to stick a dagger in his back. Such dishonor no longer seemed above Firithgalad.
Finally Legolas could see the healing wing. He was nearly bubbling with impatience.
And then suddenly a commotion broke out. Voices were approaching in a hurried manner. The noise caused healers to come rushing out of the infarmy seeking to discover what the commotion was all about.
Legolas promptly stopped one of the healers and after assuring the elf that none of the blood was his handed off his charge into the young healers capable hands.
The prince turned towards the rapidly approaching and now certainly irate voices, affording a distrustful glance at Firithgalad, who seemed not to notice as he also watched to see what all the commotion was about.
Then what looked like a very frazzled guard came into view followed by a very noble looking elf who currently had the most gut wrenching expression on his face. Legolas would not like such a force of fury to be directed at him.
And followed behind this noble elf lord were two younger and seemingly almost identical elves who also happened to have the most unpleasantly frightening and identical looks of ferocity on their faces. They hovered protectively behind the elf lord and his unmoving burden like a pair of angry wolves set to attack any who dared impinge upon their foreward progression.
That was when Legolas allowed his eyes to wander to the object carried in the elf lord's arms.
Legolas' breath caught…it was Estel. The boy couldn't possibly still breath… he looked so pale so lifeless.
"No." Legolas quietly whispered as tears burned his eyes. "Is he…is he dead" The prince asked scarcely above a whisper his eyes still fixated upon the still young slave.
The smoldering eyes that had previously been boring into the elf guard's back turned to prince Legolas, much to the guard's visible relief.
"Nay he still lives. But for how long as yet I can not say." The elf lord replied calmly.
Legolas turned his wide mournful eyes from the boy's pale face and met the elf Lord's cold piercing eyes.
"Lord Elrond please, how badly is he injured?"
The elf lord paused a moment as though considering his answer while his eyes seemed to pierce his soul.
After a few moments the elf lord's gaze softened fractionally as he gently passed Estel over into the arms of his eldest son, Elladan. The elder twin accepted the child immediately hugging the boy with tender care against his chest. While Elhoir stood in a tense defensive position lest anyone dare to come too close.
Elrond returned his attention to Legolas inclining his head ever so slightly, which Legolas solemnly returned.
"You highness, He had two arrows lodged in him; one in his shoulder and one in his leg. I had to remove them both before I moved him lest they cause him further damage. He also is suffering from severe blood, which should be expected under the circumstances. He has a broken wrist, more cuts and bruises then I'd care to count, and is to the point of exhaustion…not to mention he's dehydrated and nearly starved to death among everything else.
Legolas turned his gaze away from the accusation. Estel had been sorely miscared for long before Firithgald ever took him to the woods. It was Legolas' responsibility to see that all the slaves were well treated and he was reminded far too often this day how much he had failed in this respect. He felt shame burn his face and he was unable to look the elf lord in the eye nor his two silent, but lethal son's glowers.
"Can not be done for the boy." Legolas asked forlornly. "Please is there anything you can do lord Elrond?"
"I shall try me best." Lord Elrond soothed gently seeing the anguish in the young prince's eyes. Perhaps the ways of Mirkwood were changing, in any case Elrond suspected he might have found an advocate in the young prince, who seemed so terrible fond of the young human.
"You shall have everything you require, my lord, and all the best healer's of Mirkwood at your disposal." The prince commanded. "If there is anything more I or my father can do you need only ask."
"Thank you prince Legolas and now with your leave we must make haste. I fear his time runs short."
"Ada." Elhoir cried in panic.
Elrond turned and look back at his now pale faced children.
"My son's what is it? What is wrong?"
"Father," Elladan replied with an ashen face. "The child's stopped breathing…."
I hoped everyone liked it. As always I want to thank all my advid readers and I'm sorry I don't have the time to thank you all personally. It is your reviews that keep me going when my resolve fails. This story would not be possible without you.