Disclaimer: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Those you do not recognize belong to me.

Summary: Gaining the friendship of a mortal child was not something Thranduil expected on his trip to Imladris with his son. But when secret plots result in grave consequences, the boy may be the king's one hope of survival.

Author's Note: Much thanks to The Pearl Maiden, Gwedhiel0117, EmpresHimiko, Elven Warrior Princess, and doreenthashot for your reviews! I'm glad you guys liked the first chapter! Hopefully this one won't disappoint. Let's see what, er... trouble Thranduil and Estel get into, shall we? As a reminder, no slash whatsoever between any of the characters. Enjoy!

Elvish:

ada– father
tithen pen– little one
daro– stop/halt
muindor– brother
ion-nín– my son
penneth– young one

Chapter 2

Estel smiled broadly as Thranduil carefully maneuvered his horse through the trees, gazing up at the higher branches curiously. He had lost track of time since they had left Rivendell, though since the sun was steadily getting lower in the sky as the shadows lengthened, he knew it would not be long before they would have to return.

Thranduil moved his intense gaze to the forest around them, his light eyes narrowing slightly as he blinked a couple times. The Imladris guard had assured them he had set the patrol for the night, so he was certain they would have seen at least a hint of their presence. But there had been nothing. The trees were still.

"Ewwadan, Ewohir, and Ada took me on a picnic once," Estel said, running his small hand through the horse's light mane. "We went out by the wat'fawl. Do you wanna see the wat'fawl, Thwan'dil?"

The king took a moment to answer, unable to rid himself of the sudden feeling of dread that gripped his heart. "I do not think we will have time to see the waterfall, Estel," Thranduil finally replied, shaking his head a bit when his vision began to blur. "The sun is nearly set."

Though slightly disappointed, Estel nodded before he glanced up at the Mirkwood monarch with a smile. "Next time!" But then, concern crossed the child's face. "Awe you awl right, Thwan'dil? Your face is pawe."

Thranduil nodded, though it was not how he felt. A dull pain had been persisting in his temples for the better part of the ride, but it had only steadily increased to a point where he could no longer ignore it. His vision was continually unsteady and was beginning to darken, and a burning sensation was making its presence known in his stomach as his breath came with a bit more difficulty. Something was wrong. The king hoped he would be able bring his horse back to Imladris before the symptoms became too overwhelming, though he knew a member of the patrol in the forest would be able to aid them if he could not.

But then, Thranduil's heart sank. He knew where his sudden dread was coming from.

There was no patrol.

"Thwan'dil?" Estel now appeared to be nervous as he looked up at the slightly paler king.

However, Thranduil forced a small smile as he slowed his horse to a stop. "What say you to going back, Estel?" he asked. "'Tis growing late."

Estel looked back at him for a long moment before he nodded, turning to look ahead of them again. Thranduil sighed quietly as he turned his horse around, speeding its pace a little as they rode back toward Imladris. The king was unsure where these symptoms were coming from, though he was all too familiar with them. He remembered when he had been prince of Greenwood the Great when there had been an assassination attempt on his father, who had suffered the same ailments after being struck by a poisoned dart by one of their own. This was also not the first time Thranduil had felt these symptoms, for he had been struck on more than one occasion by an Orc's poisoned arrow during a skirmish in the forest of Mirkwood.

But this time, these ailments had come without warning. There was no poisoned dart or arrow, and the king was unsure where he could have come in contact with it.

Unless...

Thranduil shook his head, his thoughts unclear as the sharp pain throbbing in his temples slowly spread to behind his eyes, causing his vision to violently sway. His head was burning, as was his stomach, and he could no longer catch his breath without effort. He tightened his ringed fingers around his horse's reins. The child must be returned to Rivendell.

Estel glanced over his shoulder when he felt Thranduil slump forward a little and heard his harsher breathing, his eyes widening with horror. Pain was clearly seen in the monarch's fair but stern features, his eyes closed tightly as a thin layer of sweat appeared on his pale face. "Thwan'dil?"

The young, anxious voice caused Thranduil to open his eyes, but he found he could not focus on Estel's face. He swallowed hard before attempting a feeble smile. He could not continue. He whispered a quiet command in Elvish to his horse Estel couldn't understand before turning his attention to the child. "Ride on... tithen pen..."

"What..." But Estel's question ended in a gasp when Thranduil's eyes closed again before he slumped forward more, limply falling from the horse to the forest floor. "Thwan'dil!"

Estel then turned to the horse he was now riding alone, who had slowed down a little without the presence of its master but still continued on, getting his small fingers tangled in its fair mane. "Stop!" he said anxiously. "Stop!" But the command had no effect, and the boy quickly attempted to recall its Sindarin counterpart. "Uh... daro! Daro!"

The king's horse slowed to a stop, snorting once as it shook its head with apparent irritation. Estel tightly held onto the saddle as he slid out of it, hanging at its side before he dropped to the ground. He grunted when he landed hard on his backside on the forest floor, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes from the impact. But then, he gasped when he remembered what had made him stop the steed to begin with, and he quickly got to his feet and ran as fast as his short legs could carry him back toward the fallen Elf.

"Thwan'dil!" The boy knelt beside Thranduil, who had landed on his side, and placed his hands on his arm, carefully turning him onto his back with a little difficulty. His panicked gray eyes quickly moved to the king's fair head, watching as a few of the golden leaves from his crown flowed through his hair before being taken by the light wind.

Estel then turned his attention to Thranduil's damp face, which had nearly lost all color aside from the flush that had settled in his cheeks. The five-year-old hesitantly reached forward and rested his hand on the monarch's forehead, quickly pulling it back when he felt the heat radiating from it. He was with fever. Something was wrong. Elves did not fall ill.

"Wake up, Thwan'dil!" Tears filled Estel's eyes when Thranduil's remained closed, and he lightly shook his arm. "Thwan'dil! Wake up!"

A quiet groan escaped from the king's throat as Thranduil's closed eyes narrowed slightly before they slowly opened. His weary, unfocused gaze found the child above him, and he attempted to give him a reassuring smile. "'Tis all right... Estel..." he managed to murmur. "I... I will be..." His sentence trailed off when his eyes shut tightly again in a wince, his face paling even more as he clamped his arms around his midsection.

Estel watched nervously as Thranduil's tense body then relaxed, his eyes remaining closed and his breathing light and quick. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, a couple tears leaking from his gray eyes. The child desperately longed for his foster father since he would know what to do. Elrond would know how to care for the ailing king while he did not.

Then, frantically trying to remember what the Elf lord would do for those he tended to, Estel reached forward and placed two fingers lightly on the side of Thranduil's neck. He had seen Elrond do this same action many times, and though he did not know its purpose, the rapid, pulsating rhythm he felt beneath his fingertips could not have been good.

"Pwease wake up, Thwan'dil," Estel whispered, lowering his hand again as he searched the king's face for any indication he could hear him. Thranduil stirred slightly, distress crossing his pale face as he turned his head slightly in the child's direction. But he did not open his eyes.

Estel felt tears roll more freely down his cheeks as his thin frame shook before he raised his gaze and anxiously looked at the darkening trees around them. "Hewp!" he called in a slightly trembling voice, taking one of the king's ringed hands in his smaller one as he searched for any sign of the patrol that was supposed to be in the forest. Why hadn't they come? "Hewp us!"

But no one came. It was with dread the child realized they were alone.

Elrond pushed open the door of his house and stepped out onto the porch, stopping at the top of the steps. His intense eyes scanned what was happening before him, moving from Glorfindel preparing the patrol to guard the forest that night to Erestor questioning Tidurian, captain of the guards from Mirkwood. The feeling of dread had not lifted from his heart, and when the Elf lord leaned on the railing as his dark eyes gazed out at the trees ahead of him, it only increased.

Something was terribly wrong, and he feared for the safety of his foster son and friend.

"The guards were told they were able to remain here, Elrond."

Elrond moved his gaze to his chief advisor as the slender Elf walked up the staircase to join him. "They told Thranduil they would remain by the gate for him and Estel to return," Erestor finished as he stopped beside his lord.

"Who told them?" Elrond asked quietly, his eyes narrowing slightly. These events already felt suspicious, though not on the part of the Mirkwood guards.

"Amonost," Erestor answered stiffly, though a note of disbelief could also be heard in his tone. "He assured them he had set the patrol in the forest, and they would be all right if they returned by sundown."

Elrond slowly turned to look back out at the forest as he mulled these words over. Though Amonost had been a trusted soldier in his forces for many years, he was not one of the few who had authority to prepare a patrol. He did not understand why he would deceive the Mirkwood king and his guards about such a crucial detail.

Unless he wanted Thranduil and Estel to be alone.

Erestor sighed as he looked up at the Elf lord with concern. "For what purpose would he do this, Elrond?" he wondered in nearly a whisper. "Do you suppose Thranduil and Estel are safe?"

Elrond took a long moment to consider his answer before he simply shook his head. "I know not," he admitted before he stepped away from the railing as authority entered his tone once more. "Find Amonost. I want him apprehended to question."

"Aye, Elrond."

The lord of Imladris hurried down the steps toward where Glorfindel was finishing sending the patrol into the forest while Erestor disappeared inside the house. He could not forget the flickers he had seen, and he had the feeling the actions of Amonost had caused them. Elrond did not understand why the soldier had done what he had, though he was concerned about the consequences.

"Glorfindel!"

The golden-haired warrior looked up as the last guard disappeared through the gate, taking a couple steps toward the other Elf lord as he stopped in front of them. "Aye, Elrond?" he asked.

"I fear there has been deceit from one of our own guards," Elrond answered quietly, watching as Glorfindel's eyes narrowed slightly. He understood his friend's confusion, for he had all of their defenses under his command. "Thranduil and Estel could be in danger. I wish for you to accompany the patrol and search for them with all haste."

Glorfindel nodded once, but before he could respond, both he and Elrond turned when cheerful laughter reached their ears. Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas were walking toward the house from the training grounds, dirt smudged on their smiling faces as they discussed who had bested who in their sword work. However, their bright demeanors faded as soon as they saw the matching grim expressions on the Elf lords' faces.

"Is everything all right, Ada?" Elladan wondered when they slowed to a stop. Elrohir and Legolas appeared uneasy.

Elrond gestured for the three younger Elves to come forward, and the older twin led the way to him and Glorfindel. The lord of Imladris' dark eyes landed on the prince first. "Your father and Estel went for a ride in the forest some time ago," he said, his tone as soft as before. "'Tis almost nightfall, and they have not returned. I feel something may be wrong. I wish for you to accompany Glorfindel to search for them."

Though Elrond's tone was steady, worry crossed Legolas' fair face as he exchanged a concerned look with the twins. He quickly followed after Glorfindel with Elladan toward the stables to retrieve their horses, but Elrohir was stopped by a hand on his arm. The younger twin looked up into his father's tense expression with confusion.

"Ada?"

Elrond met his light gaze with a quiet sigh. "I need you to remain here with me, Elrohir," he muttered, watching as Glorfindel, Elladan, and Legolas quickly mounted their horses and rode through the gate. "We must prepare a room."

Estel reached a hand out and carefully brushed some golden hair out of Thranduil's deathly pale face before pulling his small cloak closer around the king's slightly shivering frame. Night had fallen, and though the Elf had briefly regained consciousness a couple times, he had not stirred since the sun had set. The only indication he still lived was his slight trembling. The child sighed when he placed his hand carefully on Thranduil's forehead again, feeling it was still as hot as it had been, before he wrapped his small arms around himself and shivered once. The night was cold, and though he desired the slight warmth his cloak could provide, his friend needed it more.

Then, Estel gasped as he quickly looked up when a quiet sound reached his ears, quickly looking at the trees around them. He saw nothing other than the king's horse grazing nearby, though he did not know what could be hiding in the shadows. There had been many times where he had heard his foster brothers or Glorfindel speak of Orcs that would sometimes draw near their borders. Were they lingering in the shadows now? What if trolls were eyeing them now from the shelter of the trees, waiting for their chance to snatch them?

The five-year-old whimpered when he heard the noise again, almost sounding like a twig breaking, and tears formed in his gray eyes as he curled up beside Thranduil, resting his head on his arm as he listened to the Elf's light, shallow breathing. The sound from the trees appeared to draw nearer, and Estel tightly closed his eyes as he grabbed onto the king.

"Wake up, Thwan'dil," he whispered anxiously, a few tears escaping down his cheeks. "Pwease. I'm scawed, Thwan'dil. Pwease wake up..." Though he was not rewarded with a response

Then, Estel cried out with fear and flinched when a hand lightly touched his arm, hiding his face in the sleeve of the monarch's light tunic. "No!"

"Estel."

Surprised by the gentle voice, Estel opened his eyes and looked up, finding an anxious dark-haired Elf above them. He immediately recognized him as a soldier in Rivendell's patrol. The guard held his arms out, and the child quickly moved into his embrace as his tears came more freely.

"Lord Glorfindel! Come with haste!"

Estel gasped quietly at the sound of the familiar name, and a small sob escaped from him when the golden-haired Elf rode into view. "Gwowfy!" His voice broke as he screamed and began to sob.

Glorfindel brought his horse to a stop and leapt to the ground in one fluid motion, running forward and picking up the boy into his arms as Estel ran toward him. "Oh, thank the Valar," he whispered, holding the trembling five-year-old close to him for a moment before he started to look him over. "Are you hurt, Estel?"

"N-no..." Estel mumbled, sniffing and shaking his head as the twice-born warrior carefully wiped some of his tears away before more quickly took their place. His gray eyes moved to behind his friend when Elladan and Legolas stopped their horses near Glorfindel's and hurried over. "B-but... Th-Thwan'dil..."

The golden-haired Elf quickly glanced at where the member of his patrol was kneeling beside who he now recognized to be the Mirkwood king as Estel coughed a couple times. Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to hopefully calm the shaken child even slightly, Glorfindel turned to the two younger Elves with him. "Take Estel," he told them.

Elladan immediately removed his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around Estel as he took his young foster brother into his arms before Glorfindel hurried over to Thranduil's still form with a panicked Legolas close behind. The boy wound his arms tightly around the older twin's neck as a couple more sobs escaped from him, and Elladan gently rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him.

"Shh, Estel... Slow your breathing."

Estel sniffed, but his tears continued to fall. Elladan sighed, holding him close as he rested his chin on top of the boy's dark hair. "What happened, Estel?" he asked, his gray eyes moving to the trees around them warily. "You were not attacked, were you?"

"N-no..." Estel shook his head. "I d-don't kn-know..."

Elladan's brow furrowed, not knowing what could have happened to the proud king he had grown close to. "Shh, Estel, it will be all right. You were brave, muindor." Estel's arms only tightened around his neck slightly in response.

Glorfindel carefully picked up Thranduil's limp body into his arms, attempting to move him as little as possible since he was unsure about what ailed him, and hurried toward his horse. Elladan's eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed how pale the king's face was, his concern for his friend increasing. "We must make for Imladris with all haste," the twice-born warrior muttered as he passed them.

Legolas followed at a bit of a slower pace with the dark-haired guard who had found his father, appearing a bit shaken himself. Estel looked up when the prince neared him and Elladan, and another quiet sob escaped from him. "Legowas?"

"Aye, Estel?" Legolas stopped beside the older twin, looking down on the child with concern.

Estel attempted to wipe his tears away, though it was a futile effort as he gazed back at his friend. "I... I'm s-sowwy, Le-Legowas..."

Pain crossed Legolas' fair face at the boy's words, and he placed his hand lightly on the back of Estel's head as he gently pulled it down to his shoulder to offer some comfort, closing his eyes as the child's quiet sobs echoed around them.

Elrohir paced nervously on the porch of his home, Elrond's dark eyes following his every step. Finally, the younger twin came to a stop and turned back to the Elf lord. "Do you truly feel there has been some deceit, Ada?" he asked. Amonost had been one of the guards who had trained him and Elladan in their younger years, and he did not want to believe him capable of treachery.

Elrond slowly shook his head. "I know not, ion-nín," he answered quietly. "It is my hope to learn more once the guards return. I pray no ill has befallen Estel or Thranduil."

Clearly agitated, Elrohir began pacing once more. Elrond sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on settling his own fears. The image of Estel curled on the ground beside a dark figure was haunting him, and he hoped and prayed that his foster son and friend would be returned safely.

Then, the Elf lord opened his eyes again when the sound of approaching horses reached his ears, watching as the guards rode through the gate. Elrohir immediately rushed down the steps toward them, but Elrond hesitated when Glorfindel, Legolas, and Elladan followed close behind, getting as close to the house as they could.

Fear gripped his heart when he saw Thranduil, pale and seemingly lifeless, riding in front of the twice-born warrior and Estel curled up in a cloak before his eldest son.

Elrond watched as Legolas and Elrohir helped to carefully lower the Mirkwood king off the horse, Glorfindel leaping down and taking him back before he hurried toward where he was waiting. "He is with fever," the golden-haired Elf explained as he quickly took the staircase with Elrohir and the prince close behind. "I know not what ails him."

"Elrohir will bring you to the healing ward," Elrond said, keeping his tone steady. "I will be with you momentarily."

"Aye, Elrond."

Once Glorfindel, Legolas, and Elrohir rushed Thranduil inside, Elrond turned his attention back to Elladan, who was walking toward him at a bit slower pace. His worried eyes landed on his foster son, whose head rested against the older twin's chest with his eyes closed. He could not discern if Estel had suffered any injuries, which concerned him most.

However, Elladan's small smile put his mind somewhat at ease. "He is fine, Ada," he muttered when he stopped in front of the Elf lord, looking down at the child sadly. "But he is frightened. He was sobbing until he fell asleep on the ride here."

Elrond gazed down on the boy with concern as he reached out and lightly ran his fingers over Estel's damp cheek, stained with tears. "Oh, child," he whispered, carefully pulling him into his own arms. "What has happened?"

Elladan slowly shook his head. "I know not," he said. "Estel said they were not attacked. But Thranduil..."

"Must be seen to," Elrond finished for him, authority entering his tone once more. "Come. I will have you bring Estel to his room."

Elrond began to lead the way back up the staircase, but the gentle motion roused Estel, who looked around with confusion. "Ada?"

"Shh, Estel," the Elf lord soothed. "You are safe now, ion-nín."

Estel was calmed slightly by his foster father's deep, gentle voice, but then, he gasped quietly as he quickly looked back up at him. "I twied, Ada. I reawwy did..."

Elrond paused, looking down on Estel with a slightly raised eyebrow. "What do you mean, Estel?" he asked.

"I... I twied to hewp Thwan'dil," Estel answered as he clutched the Elf's light tunic, tears forming in his eyes as his voice rose a little. "I didn't know what to do... He got sick, and I did what I couwd... Don't be mad, Ada. I twied..."

The lord of Imladris glanced at Elladan, who looked back at him with the same slightly confused look. Thranduil had fallen ill? "I am not angry, Estel," the former muttered, wiping away the tears that had escaped from the boy's eyes. "You did well."

Estel looked up at him with surprise. "I... I did?"

Elrond nodded, giving him a small smile. "Aye," he confirmed, tenderly brushing back some of the child's wild dark hair from his face. "But tell me about how Thranduil fell ill, penneth."

"We wewe riding in the twees, and I asked him if he wanted to see the wat'fawl," Estel explained, sniffing as he rubbed his eyes. "He said we didn't have time, but he looked pawe. Then he couwdn't bweathe wewl, he towd me to keep going, and he fewl off his howse. I touched his neck like you do, and thewe was a fast beat. I don't know what it was. And he didn't wake up, and his head was hot, and I think his stom'ch huwt, and... and... and..."

"Shh." Elrond gently pulled the child's head down to his shoulder, lightly kissing the top of his dark hair. "Calm yourself, Estel. Breathe, penneth." He was greatly concerned for Thranduil, for shortness of breath, fever, and stomach pain were not ordinary afflictions. The Elf lord held the young mortal close and rubbed his back as he looked back at Elladan, and by the look in his son's matching gray eyes, the same thought had crossed his mind.

The ailments Estel had described were common symptoms of poison.

Author's Note: So, they were found, but that doesn't mean they're out of hot water yet. Poor Thranduil and Aragorn. I love them, I really do, lol. Anyway, if you would like to give little Aragorn a hug right about now (doreenthatshot and AnaOfRohan have already done so), mention it in your reviews and I will pass them along! Lol! Hope you liked the second chapter! The third will be up soon. Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!