Disclaimer: I still do not own LotR.

Warning: Slash, A/L. One-sided, OC/L.

Yup, finally the next chapter. Was going to come out sooner, but… I had to pay another visit to the hospital, and I'm sick. So much fun. -.- Anyway, please enjoy. And thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. It means so much to me and I'm glad (and surprised) that you like it. n.n

Jealousy Wrought

Chapter Nine: Out of Sorts

The healer, Eleren, took care of Estel with the supplies they had brought along with them, which was a wide variety since they hadn't known what they might find. The fever was somewhat tricky for him, though, for he wasn't used to treating humans. However, he did know the basics and was fairly confident he would be able to help the young man.

Thranduil had watched the healer as he ran his fingers through his son's mussed hair. They would have to get back to the palace soon. Legolas and Estel both needed better surroundings; not to mention better treatment and rest.

He decided to leave as soon as possible; before Legolas awoke. He was sure the archer would want to carry Estel and, in his condition, no one thought it was a wise idea.

Thranduil carried his son, while he had Eleren carry Estel should anything happen.

They had buried Eildan's body at a place where they would be able to find easily, for they didn't think they should carry the dead with them. As much as it pained them all to bury one of their own so far from home, they had no choice. They were really fortunate they had been able to find the tree, although it had been too late for Eildan.

It would take about two days to get back. They went as fast as they possibly could with Legolas and Estel both injured. However, with how exhausted the prince had seemed, Thranduil wasn't sure he could be awoken even by orcs.

They moved as far as they could before they were forced to stop and rest. Estel had started murmuring senselessly and shouting Legolas' name desperately, struggling within Eleren's hold.

Thranduil gently lowered his son beside Estel and then leaned over the human to see what was wrong. He looked worse than before.

"What happened?" he asked the healer in confusion.

"His fever has risen," Eleren answered absentmindedly as he rummaged through his herbs, trying to find one that would help, even if temporarily. He didn't even know why the fever had suddenly spiked, for it seemed to be steady the whole ride until now.

"Legolas. Legolas!" the human kept yelling, obviously deep in a nightmare. Thranduil cringed to even think about what it must contain.

He was startled when his son suddenly shot up and nearly knocked him over trying to get to the distraught man. He was amazed that Legolas was even able to move that quickly, for they had also treated the exhausted archer, one of the injuries had been a knock on the back of his head and he had also been given the herbs… He supposed it was just his need to be there for Estel, hearing his name said so despairingly, even through unconsciousness.

Legolas looked over Estel, grabbing his hand in comfort. The dark-haired man's features were tight with distress, his skin clammy and pale, spots of red on both cheeks.

"I'm here, Estel. I'm here," the young elf said gently, rubbing his thumb against the hand he held. His head pounded fiercely but he hardly felt it so focused he was on his love.

The words worked and the fevered human calmed slightly so Legolas continued, "That's it. All is well; I'm here, love."

At these words Thranduil snapped his head from Estel to his son in shock—as did the healer and some nearby warriors. 'Love'?

The king saw Legolas' expression: one of worry and of compassion; he deeply cared for Estel. It made sense.

He smiled warmly, and turned back to the troubled man who was relaxing at the sound of his son's voice. Nothing else had worked, hadn't even had an effect.

Now, however, they had another problem: how were they going to get Legolas to either sleep or let one of the others take care (and carry) Estel?

Once Estel was fully calm, Legolas lifted his uninjured arm and put his hand on his forehead, trying to lessen the pounding without realizing he was being watched.

Thranduil placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder, surprised when he gave a start.

"Ada," the young elf said as if this was the first time he'd seen him since setting out with Estel and Eildan.

Legolas took a look around, trying to get his bearings.

"Where… are we? Where's Eildan?" he asked after a moment, unable to find his old friend, events having not quite caught up to him yet.

Taken aback by the question, and somewhat alarmed, Thranduil merely stared at the archer. Legolas said nothing, though. "He… He's gone, ion-nin," he finally responded quietly. Did Legolas even remember what had happened? Was his head injury more severe than they had thought?

However, when Legolas' expression turned from one of confusion to one of horror, he knew it had just taken a moment for him to process the events with his abrupt awakening. No matter the case, he didn't like his son's expression and it greatly worried him, making him wonder what exactly had happened.

"Legolas?" he tried, moving the tangled and dirtied blonde hair out of his face soothingly.

Legolas looked back down at his love.

Thranduil leaned forward, and watched his son carefully. He was shocked to see tears making their way to his eyes. He knew his proud son wouldn't be willing to talk yet so, instead, he pulled him into a tight hug, doing all that he could.

Everyone was silent while father and son held each other close, both needing the comfort of the embrace as Legolas returned the hug just as fiercely.

The two stayed like that for a while, Thranduil quietly supporting Legolas, while the healer treated Estel. It was a miracle that his injuries hadn't reopened.

After the healer had taken care of Estel, Thranduil and Eleren somehow convinced Legolas to rest. He didn't sleep, and neither of them expected him to, no matter how much he needed it. However, everyone was glad of the break—even if they weren't with the circumstances—and took advantage of it, especially the horses.

…………

"Legolas, you must allow Eleren to carry Estel," Thranduil restated for the third time. As they had thought, it wasn't easy to get the arrangement they wanted, but they wouldn't leave until they had it.

"I am well; he can ride with me, Adar," the young prince stubbornly argued, too exhausted to realize he sounded like an elfling, too exhausted to tell just what his condition was.

"Absolutely not. You are riding with me," the king said in a no-nonsense tone. It was clear Legolas was not going to get his way. "Being as tired as you are you could end up passing out or drifting. Then what would you do if you lost your grip on Estel? What if he fell off your horse, Legolas?" He hated to be so harsh, but it was necessary.

Legolas dropped his gaze to Estel. Then he closed his eyes sadly, and nodded, giving in.

Thranduil rubbed Legolas' back soothingly as if telling him he made the right choice… and he had. "You know he will be safe," the king reassured.

Of course Legolas knew that to be true, he just didn't want to be separated from his love anymore. He had already failed him more times than he would like; he didn't want to add to it.

As they got on the horses it was obvious that Legolas still wished to have Estel ride with him. Therefore, Thranduil and Eleren rode close to each other; also for the simple fact that the healer could keep an eye on the injured prince.

Not long into their return ride, Legolas either fell asleep or passed out, despite his best efforts. With that they were finally able to make some progress since he was unable to feel the pain of the horse's movements.

They had no problems for the rest of the day, for Legolas slept straight through it, while Estel was still unconscious. However, no matter how well things went, they still had to stop at night. The dangers that came out were too much of a risk at that time.

The following morning, they left early and didn't stop except when it was necessary.

Legolas' exhaustion had taken over him, so when he did wake up, he didn't argue; barely even moved or spoke. It worried Thranduil, but also made him feel relieved since he wasn't sure how the young elf would rest if he found out the state Estel was in.

He hoped it was better this way.

Estel slowly opened his eyes, blearily looking around.

Then, suddenly, a pair of sapphire eyes was in front of him, looking at him worriedly.

"You are awake," the elf said with a warm smile, relieved.

He smiled back at his love, which caused Legolas' to grow wider. It had been a weak smile, but it was more than anyone had seen within the past few days. To say he had missed the expression would definitely be a huge understatement.

The sun shone brightly above and only a few leaves were in his way when looked up at the white puffs that made odd shapes streaking across the open sky.

Estel blinked a few times, trying to rid his eyes of the heavy feeling that seemed to have recovered, sapping his strength to stay conscious.

He leaned into Legolas' hand when the young elf started to rub his thumb caringly against the side of his face. The hand felt cool, but the thought that he had a fever didn't even cross his at ease mind.

The silver eyes opened to look at his love, to show that he appreciated the gesture and everything Legolas did for him.

However, he stopped cold, his expression turning from soothed to horrified in an instant.

Legolas frowned at Estel, perplexed. Seeing where the man looked, he glanced over his left shoulder.

And saw Eildan.

All Legolas managed to do was move to the side slightly and face his old friend, who he had thought dead.

In turn, he was greeted with an already bloodied sword through his stomach; then fiercely kicked to the ground where Eildan straddled him.

Legolas feebly struggled, trying to get the guard off of him, and failing, as the elder elf merely grinned down at him.

"How…? You are dead…" he stuttered, eyes wide.

Estel fought with his body to get up, to move so he could help Legolas. He didn't like where this was headed and the wound looked grave. However, it seemed as though an outside force held his body down, for he could not budge even an inch.

He could only watch, watch as Eildan leaned forward and kissed his love, pressing down on his newly acquired injury in order to gain access when the archer gasped in pain.

Eildan put his hands into the golden hair, holding Legolas' head still. Red stained the place where the fingers were, streaking the blonde.

It was then Eildan remembered.

He grinned maliciously and pulled back.

Still straddling the archer, he reached into a pouch attached to his belt.

Estel hadn't even noticed it before, but now that he looked, there was a deep brown color at the bottom of the tan material.

Estel watched with growing apprehension, a sickening feeling rising within as he held his breath to find out what was in the pouch that Eildan seemed so fascinated with.

When it was finally revealed Estel turned his head to the side and violently threw up what little content he had.

Legolas' reaction was entirely different, on the other hand, disbelief overwhelming everything else. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the object, as if it was a new bow someone had shown off to him.

However, the object was neither pleasant nor appreciated.

A hand.

It was a hand.

His father's right hand rested in Eildan's own, a wicked smile carved on his lips as he witnessed Legolas' reaction, the horror in the once bright blue eyes.

The gold ring with an emerald gem placed between leaves had been a gift from his mother. Thranduil never took it off, especially not after her death. It was a one of a kind, and there it was, right before his very eyes, where his father was not.

"He was looking for his precious son," Eildan said in a sing-song voice, playing with the rings on the king's fingers.

Tears fell from Legolas' eyes, the bloodied hand becoming blurry. His injury had been all but forgotten.

Eildan rubbed Thranduil's thumb against Legolas' cheek to get rid of the tears in mock-comfort.

Legolas immediately recoiled and turned to the side, disgusted, tears flowing faster.

"You know, he fought hard just to find you, and this is the thanks you give him…?" Eildan said, clicking his tongue. He threw the hand down near the prince's head.

Legolas growled, his face twisting with anger. How dare he!

He shoved at Eildan forcefully. He was able to push the mad elf off since he wasn't expecting the sudden show of defiance with how broken he had seemingly become.

However, a look of fierce determination had taken over the archer's face and Eildan knew he had pushed too hard.

And he grinned wider.

He chuckled when Legolas tried to stand, barely succeeding as his body swayed.

Without warning, Eildan rushed forward, sword in hand and thrust it into Legolas' chest, finishing what he had started. He shared one final cruel kiss with Legolas before the prince crumpled to the ground.

Eildan turned to Estel, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

Estel watched in horror, still unable to move, unable to speak, as he watched Legolas' eyes glaze over in death, staring listlessly at him.

Don't worry. It'll make sense… next chapter. n.n;;

Yeah, I don't like this either. It makes me wonder how long ago I wrote this… -.- I tried to fix it as much as possible. Please don't be too harsh, haven't had the best of times. Anyway, I'll update again as soon as I possibly can. Sorry with how long these have taken.

Oh, and the next chapter will be the last, unless I edit it that much. Not satisfied with it at all. ..:shakes head:..

Ja ne