Disclaimer: Same as all the other chapters.
Warnings: Same as always.
Oops. Another late update. Sorry guys.
This chapter is dedicated to DawnStrider and IwishSan. Thank you so much for your continued support, guys. I really appreciate it and I hope I don't let you down. n.n
Right. Well, I actually like a lot of this chapter; not all, mind you, but quite a bit. xD That is rare, believe it or not. I hope you enjoy it as well, or at least the parts I do. -.-
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Jealousy Wrought
Chapter Six: Wind's Madness
If he had been exhausted before, he was dead tired now. However, he had to force himself to stay up. He couldn't let his guard down, not even for a second; especially not now that he knew Eildan was a traitor. He had to watch over Estel. He had to protect him. He had been foolish before and, while he wished he could believe otherwise, he had to face the truth: his best friend had betrayed him.
Legolas shook his head. He didn't want to think about that. His blue eyes were wet with unshed tears that he refused to let fall.
It was midday now and Estel had only awoken once. Fortunately, his fever wasn't rising, but neither was his coherency.
The archer had finally decided to start moving—they needed to get to safer grounds; not to mention closer to the palace in the hopes of help. He still desperately prayed for the patrol to find them, slim chance though it was. However, by that time, Estel was starting to wake up, and he couldn't help but feel relieved that the man was waking.
When the grey eyes opened, showing how lost he was, how wearied, Legolas' relief deflated and his warm smile faded.
"Estel, love, look at me," he urged when the eyes refused to focus on him. He smoothed the sweaty hair from the man's forehead in a comforting gesture, trying to calm himself. Panicking will make things worse, he kept telling himself.
Estel closed his eyes and the young elf nearly did panic, but he kept himself under control. Soon, Estel reopened his eyes and they showed him to be more alert as they met Legolas'.
The prince sighed, grateful. He had only been disoriented at first. That was all. It still greatly worried him, though.
After a couple of minutes, talking to the man enabled him to get the reassurance he needed. Estel didn't talk much but it still helped since he was able to show how aware he was, and that he could answer the questions.
It seemed the man was finally starting to regain some of his strength, little though it was, or it also could have been just wishful thinking. He gave it no second thoughts. Even so, Estel needed a lot more rest and he was soon allowed to fall back asleep, Legolas being convinced enough to stop talking and let him drift. He also knew it was time to move, to get away from the river, for it was dangerous near it, Eildan could be on the search for them. With how persistent his old friend had been thus far, Legolas had no doubts in his mind about the elder elf's search.
He tried not to think about it, for it hurt far too much. He wanted nothing more than to completely ignore it, erase it from his mind; he wanted things to go back to how they had been. Had it really been all his fault? If he had never accepted Estel's confession, would this have happened?
No, his mind told him, and Eildan would still be with him, wouldn't have betrayed him.
But… how long would they have been able to ignore their feelings of love?
He had been too late in realizing Eildan's love for him. Maybe he shouldn't have denied it so much before. The signs had been there. He had just chosen to do nothing about them and act like nothing was going on. Maybe things would have been different if he had done something.
He could still feel Eildan's lips against his own, but there had been no warmth, no love in the mocking gesture.
Subconsciously, Legolas rubbed the back of his hand over his lips as if to get rid of a bad taste.
He shuddered.
So much contempt was seen in his old friend now, so much evil, so much cruelty, such a strong need to kill.
Tears finally managed to break through his self-control. He bowed his head, golden hair falling around his face in separated groups from being wet. Each tear fell to the sleeping Estel, slipping down to the ground, leaving a trail on the dirtied hand.
Legolas lifted the hand and pressed it to his lips, tears still silently falling, and he closed his eyes.
He was thankful for Estel at least.
When he was finally able to get himself under control, which was a good ten minutes later, he wiped away all traces of tears; from Estel's hand as well. He still held the hand, however, never wanting to let go.
He was ashamed of himself for breaking down, but it couldn't be helped and he had to move on and away from this place.
Sighing deeply, Legolas got to his knees and wrapped his cloak—what was left of it—around Estel.
The elf picked his love up gently and carefully carried him away. Looking at the sun's position, it seemed they didn't have much light left. He hoped it would be enough to get them somewhere they could camp for the night, somewhere safe where he could try to treat Estel.
Legolas resisted the urge to close his eyes and pray, for he needed to watch his steps. Instead, he whispered, "Please help him. We need help, Ada. He needs help."
He still clung to that unlikely chance desperately. He didn't know what else he could place his hope in.
He glanced at the unconscious Estel.
And trudged on.
…………
The sky had just lost its last rays of light by the time Legolas found worthy enough shelter. It was nowhere as protective as the cave, nor as secluded but it would work for the night. It had to.
The prince had laid the human near some thick bushes, the like of which surrounded the both of them. Trees with healthy canopies of bright green leaves hung above them as well and would be useful if they should need cover.
Of course, Eildan could climb as well as any other wood-elf and, with Legolas carrying Estel… well, the chances didn't look good. However, it was better than nothing.
Legolas pressed his hand to Estel's forehead and found himself letting out a breath of relief just because the fever hadn't risen.
Again, he treated the man to the best of his abilities—and supplies—which wasn't very much since the surrounding plants didn't offer much of anything.
Once finished with the little he could do, Legolas unsheathed his twin knives, placing one of either side of him. He decided it'd be best that way, because, should something happen to him, Estel would have a weapon that he would be able to wield in his weakened state. He didn't think the human would be able to defend himself really, but it eased his heart to know that he would at least have a chance and the slight awareness from before only helped. It wasn't much, only simple sentences—merely one-word ones actually, but he was still responding… most of the time. During other times, he seemed dazed, delusional, calling for Legolas, sometimes his foster father, Elrond, or foster brothers (Elladan and Elrohir). He would shout Eildan's name in fear and Legolas wondered if Estel thought he was still being attacked as he weakly struggled. When he was like this his fever actually did rise, and frightfully. When this happened Legolas nearly wept with fear, unable to do anything for his love.
He prayed for the Valar's help. It was all he could really do now.
Currently, Estel was thankfully calm. Therefore, Legolas turned to his side, watching his love closely. He lay next to him, had been for hours, ever since the man had calmed and was sure of it. He gently placed his slender hand on Estel's chest, feeling the rise and fall, and, even though the breathing hitched every now and then, it was still reassuring. It usually was. He just had to be especially careful of the injury on his chest and side.
…………
Legolas suddenly awoke with a start. His eyes darted everywhere, trying to regain his bearings.
The strong breeze mocked him, blowing his hair wherever it wanted, and in his face. The hallow laughing of the wind sent chills down his spine, a horrible feeling following its trail and went to his heart, gripping it.
The archer sprang into a crouching position, possessively protecting Estel, twin knives now held in front of him, ready to sink their teeth into whatever was the cause of this ominous feeling.
The elf took on a feral look; most people would run seeing the expression held by such a sinfully beautiful creature, his pose clearly stating that he knew what he was doing.
Estel groaned.
Legolas nearly lashed out at him. He had been concentrating too much on sounds, or the lack of them.
He saw the wince in the man's features, his eyes scrunched up tightly as if he could pick up on the same feeling Legolas was, even while unconscious. Except, he couldn't afford to comfort the fevered and injured man, protecting him was more important.
He forced himself to bring his attention and eyes away from Estel and back to his surroundings.
The wind died.
Legolas shifted.
A doe sprang out of a bush and darted across the clearing.
However, the only thing that moved when the deer did was Legolas' eyes.
That wasn't it.
It wasn't because of some frightened doe that had the whole forest tensed. He could sense it in the trees.
It was like someone had scared the poor animal, chasing it away. To scare him? To warn him? To play with him? Had it been Eildan? Or was it really all just in his head, his wearied mind playing tricks on him? Maybe it had just been some other creature that had spooked the young doe.
…Where was her mother?
Legolas shivered.
He stood stock-still; moving not one inch.
He waited.
And waited.
There was nothing.
However, the trees were still tightly wound as if the wind had them in a tight hold, refusing to let go, which would explain its sudden stop.
Legolas chanced a quick glance at Estel. That was what it was supposed to be anyway.
He froze when he saw that the human was a lot more pale than before, sweat dripping from his brow, hands clenched—one at his side, the other on his stomach.
"Legolas," he moaned. His hand fell to the other side as if he tried to escape the haunting presence.
Still, Legolas couldn't let his guard down. "Shh, love," he tried his best to soothe the suffering man with soft words. "It will be alright. Be calm, mellon-nin."
The words had but a little effect.
And he focused again.
He waited.
He watched. Listened.
Until he had no choice but to give up. The feeling had mostly left, only lingering enough to have him on edge. It kept him jumpy, but there was no sound to startle him; only the heavy breathing of Estel could be heard.
He needed to get away from there, needed to move somewhere that didn't have this maddening feeling about it. He didn't even care if it was the darkest of caves at this point.
Briefly, he checked to see if Estel was close to consciousness and then quickly picked him up, not being as careful as before, but was still instinctively cautious of the wounds.
He was shocked to feel the man was trembling, and violently. Should he have been attentive, he probably would have been able to see it.
"Valar, I'm sorry, Estel," Legolas apologized sadly, ashamed of getting so worked up.
Half an hour later he finally allowed his wearied legs to stop; it wasn't in a cave either. Even with his earlier thoughts he was grateful for that at least. With his current state of mind, a cave would have been a terrible idea. However, he really would have taken refuge in one if it had been necessary.
The area was much the same as the last one, with differences in the location and the amount of foliage. It worked, and that was all that mattered.
The feeling had greatly diminished; it merely brushed against him occasionally now. Legolas had been so distracted, however, that Estel had groaned and twisted as he tried to force his way through to consciousness, without his notice.
Estel finally opened his eyes and shifted his blurry sight to the elf beside him.
Immediately, Estel knew something was wrong, and not just with the archer. In his sleep, he had been disturbed by some strange presence that had caused him troubled dreams. Seeing Legolas, it obviously wasn't in his imagination alone. The elf was tense and hadn't even noticed he had awoken, which said everything.
"Legolas?" he whispered, which was all he could manage; it hurt his parched throat just saying that.
Said elf started, whipping his head around to look at the human.
"Estel!" the prince exclaimed in surprise. His love was awake and in pain. How had he missed this? He just needed to relax; he doubted he'd be able to defend either of them being this uptight.
"What… happened?" the man stuttered. Legolas' behavior was frightening and he had to wonder.
"Nothing. Worry not," the archer quickly tried to reassure Estel, but failed and knew it. Still, he changed the subject. "Forgive me, love, but I have no herbs."
Estel frowned. Why wouldn't they have any? He couldn't remember anything. What had last happened?
He couldn't breathe.
He tried to claw his way out.
He struggled, kicked, bit his lips to stop from screaming, knowing it would make things worse.
Fire shot through his side, chest and lungs.
Red followed him.
Eildan had pushed him in the river and he had passed out soon after that. Now they were running from him. He vaguely remembered the short conversation he had had with Legolas.
The man's frown deepened and he shifted, stopping with a hiss. The move had sent agony through his aching body, the muscles stiff or injured, bruised or torn. Legolas was blatantly lying to him about the discontenting air, clinging like a foul stench. Even how he was he could feel and understand it so it must have been worse for the wood-elf.
However, he knew the stubborn prince would say nothing. He had to let it go; he had no choice.
Legolas placed his hand on Estel's gently, giving him a small smile that was meant to be reassuring.
Estel could feel the fine tremors run through the prince, who must not have known about them otherwise he wouldn't have made the contact.
He sighed deeply, and immediately stopped. He was so uncomfortable, if only he could find the right position!
The stormy, glazed eyes shut tightly, and he squirmed, trying to do just that. His mind was losing focus again, the fever regaining the upper-hand, deciding Estel had had enough time with his love.
Legolas tried to still Estel, holding his shoulders down gently, but with the right amount of force.
"Nay, Estel, do not move," he tried foolishly to reason with the unaware man.
Legolas continued like that, trying to soothe Estel, until the man gave in to sleep.
He sighed heavily.
By the Valar, what could he do!
He was losing it. The exhaustion grew, the concern grew, the fear grew—everything was only becoming worse.
And the feeling… It still held him.
It taunted him.
He was going mad.
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(..:points above:.. For some reason the line wouldn't work, and neither does the HTML. -.- )
Poor Legolas. ;-;
I'll just stop apologizing for late updates. -.- (whispers: sorry) xD I was having problems writing. Haven't gone over to my dad's for the last three and now four times and that's where I get most my writing done. ..:shrugs:.. I'll try to be better. n.n
Let me know what ya think, please. n.n There's only about two or three chapters left. Exciting, huh? n.n;;
Ja ne