Chapter Three

I feel. Pain. So much pain it threatens to overwhelm me. My body shakes uncontrollably. My body. I have a body. This feels strange. Yet. I cannot fathom why that should be. A sense of loss lingers in my mind, somewhere just out of reach, fluttering away like a butterfly caught in a breeze when I try to grasp it. Where am I? My confused mind tries to make connections but fails, why do I feel this pain? Each breath is an agony, a fire burning in my chest with each inhalation of air I take. My guts are being held in a vice like grip that twists them this way and that, attempting to force them free of my aching body.

Confusion and fear rise within me like a river in flood and I try to force my mind to still, to regain control over these battered emotions . It is not working, I feel the trembling in my battered frame increase and with it the fear takes a tighter hold. I am powerless to stop it and as my body begins to buck and writhe without my consent my mind lets go with an almost audible snap. I feel a scream building within me that I am powerless to suppress and I allow it to gather force, building to a glorious crescendo before finally giving it voice in wonderful release.

The young man stiffens and for a few, interminable seconds is frozen in place, unable to twitch even the slightest of muscles. His dark ringed, mournful, grey eyes, already huge with fear in his ghostly pale face seem to widen yet further than humanly possible as his friends body suddenly begins to shake wildly beneath the white sheet he has so tenderly just placed back over it after checking on the bandages wrapped around the still raw wounds that do not appear to be healing as quickly as they should.

"Ada!" the call erupts from his throat, "ADA!".

Panic lends volume to his voice and the word seems to bounce off the walls of the room before exiting through the half open door to find the ears of the lord of Rivendel as he stands in the corridor outside conferring in hushed tones with his tall, dark-haired twin sons. All three of them turn towards the anguished cry, then with a quick, worried glance at each other hurry back to the healing room they have so recently departed, dreading what they will return to find.

As Elrond strides over towards the figure of his youngest son bent over the slight form on the bed he notices frantic movement beneath the covers. Estel's worried face turns to him with a heartfelt, plea in his tearful eyes.

"What is happening Ada" he asks, "why is he shaking like this?" His voice catches in his throat as chokes back a sob.

Assessing the scene in front of him with a practised glance Elrond replies gently, "it is the stress from his wounds ion nin, his body is reacting to the trauma inflicted upon it and the loss of blood he has sustained. Did he regain consciousness before this began?"

One slim hand has automatically gone to the princes forehead, feeling for signs of fever whilst the other presses questing fingers over the slender neck, feeling the erratic, weak pulse that beats there, far too quickly for his liking.

Turning to look at the twins who are standing in the doorway mirroring the same worried expression on their identical faces he raises his eyebrows and nods towards the equipment at the side of the room, their eyes narrow in mute understanding. They quickly move towards the table where containers of herbs and infusions are kept in case of immediate need and with practised hands begin to gather together the various ingredients they feel their father may need to treat fever and pain. They have done this so many times there is no need for vocal communication.

As they work together in perfect unison they become aware of strange scuffling sounds emanating from the other side of the room and turn towards the noise as one. Horror grips them as they watch their father and brother wrestling with the ailing elf as he apparently tries to fling himself out of the bed.

" Sleeping draught, now!" Elrond shouts as he holds the princes heaving shoulders down against the bed.

Estell has two slender legs held in an iron grip trying to stop them from twisting free as the spasming body gathers momentum. Elladan rushes over to the bed with a cup of liquid wondering how on earth they are going to get the injured elf to drink it whilst he watches helplessly as both father and son are suddenly launched into the air as Legolas suddenly arches his back then slams down onto the bed hard, his fragile appearance belying the strength within.

The beautiful face contorts into an ugly grimace conveying a look of absolute agony and fear the like of which the four watchers can never recall seeing before and a palpable feeling of tension builds within the room. Then, catching them all unawares, the pale mouth opens wider than would appear physically possible and an unearthly, heartrending scream issues forth. The scream seems to last an eternity, and cuts right through to the souls of everyone who hears it. It travels all through the last homely house causing a sudden cessation of activity as those within are affected by its presence and even hours after it has eventually come to an end many still feel a deep sense of loss that they can not comprehend.

Both sound and movement come to an abrupt stop and the slender elven body in front of them goes completely limp with an air of awful finality. Elronds heart is in his mouth as he reaches out a tentative hand to seek for signs of life only to have his wrist suddenly grabbed and held fast by long, slender fingers in a lightning quick movement he would never have believed possible.

Eyes, blue as a summers sky, suddenly shoot open and stare into his, holding them with an icy glare. The healer finds himself releasing a breath he was unaware he held and smiles gently into the face of the young elf that he holds as dear to his heart as a son.

" Relax pen neth, young one", his voice soft with relief and compassion, " you are safe now."

The azure eyes gradually lose the cold tension within their depths and he feels the steely grip on his wrist slacken, then finally disappear as the deceptively strong hold gives way and the hand falls gently back down onto the cool white sheet that has almost slid from the bed during their previous eyes stare with a lost, questioning gaze into warm, deep brown ones for a moment longer then lower in mute submission.

"Legolas, mellon nin, you are back with us". The words are almost a sigh as Estel, rising from the rug on the floor by the side of the be onto which he has fallen after being tossed from the errant, flailing legs earlier gazes with unabashed relief at the face of his lifelong friend. " I thought I had lost you this time," pain flickers deep within his storm grey eyes. " How do you feel?".

Legolas raises his fair face again, seeking those eyes and locking them with his own in a gaze that transmits both love and trust to the one he knows will always be there for him as he will be for the other. Two souls forever intertwined, a strong and unusual bond for two not related, never mind not even of the same kind.

" I ..am ..fine", his usually melodic voice sounds strained and harsh edged after the exploitation of vocal chords unused to the misuse recently given to them. A smile hovers at the corners of his mouth as he repeats this oft used phrase which has become the standard reply to that question over the past few years. " What .. Has.. ha….." as he tries to raise himself from the bed a sudden spasm of pain causes his breath to catch in his throat and the remainder of the sentence dies on his lips.

The archers eyes close as he tries to gain control of his body and quell the agony rising within but his usually strong will seems strangely unequal to the task and as his body falls back to the soft embrace of the mattress beneath him his eyes flutter briefly, half opening, then close again as conscious thought flees from his grasp once more.

Grey eyes fill with concern as they stare down at the prostrate elf then quickly raise again to meet those of his adoptive father in a silent plea for reassurance. Lord Elrond nods.

" He needs to rest ion nin", he smiles gently to help support his words "this is for the best".

Estels eyes lower once more as he takes this in and a small sigh of relief escapes his lips. For a moment he had feared the worst again and he was unsure how much more of this his overburdened heart could take.

" At least it saves us from having to wrestle this into him" Elladan glances ruefully at the cup of sleeping draught he still clutches in his hand as he speaks, then moves to the table and deposits it there with a knowing look at his twin.

The three brothers smile softly, they can all recollect just how difficult it is to get Legolas to swallow their fathers sleeping potion and share a sense of relief for the battle that has just been avoided.

Falling back into the chair beside the bed where he has practically lived since carrying the fallen prince into this room what feels like a lifetime ago the youngest member of the family runs his left had through the mop of unruly brown hair that seems determined to fall into his eyes and takes hold of the nearest, elegant, porcelain hand in his right. He notices that warmth has returned to the slender fingers and raises his gaze to watch the even rise and fall of the elven chest.

"He sleeps", Elrond whispers from the other side of the bed, " look, although his eyes are closed his face has regained a little colour. I feel that he is over the worst now". Then, looking sternly into the young mans eyes he states, "you must sleep yourself Estel, go, you need to find your bed. We will stay with him and wake you if the need arises".

The young man shakes his head in silent protest but feels hands on his upper arms as his brothers try to raise him from the chair.

" I will sleep just fine here" he protests from behind a huge yawn, the relief he feels at his friends improved health suddenly opening his mind to the tiredness he has been suppressing for so many days.

His eyelids droop, softly closing over the careworn grey eyes beneath them and he never notices when the twins finally lift him from the chair and carry him gently out to his own room before tenderly putting him into bed in a manner reminiscent of the many times they did the same for a sleepy child, too tired to climb the stairs at the end of a long days play. Sharing an indulgent smile the two dark-haired elves cover him over, plant light kisses on his forehead then quietly leave him softly snoring and, closing the door gently behind them head back to the healing room in which their long time friend lies under the watchful eyes of the lord of Rivendel their hearts feeling lighter than they have for many days.

TBC

Thanks for the reviews so far. I'm glad you seem to like it so far, I just hope you continue to do so. Sorry if it seems a bit slow to get going but I have a feeling it will start to speed up soon!