Legolas kicked at his steed's sides, urging the horse forward. The sound of hoofs hitting the ground mingled with the sound of the wind in his face, and he kicked once again, always feeling that he was going too slowly. Words from Aragorn's letter still burned in his mind, giving him no rest.

My dear friend,

I have to ask you to ride to Minas Tirith with all haste. I am in great need and I need the help of someone I can trust. Come as soon as you can!

Aragorn

Thousands of questions troubled the elf, making him shout to his stallion to run faster and faster. What had happened in Minas Tirith? Why did Aragorn need him? What matters could be so urgent?

Legolas had to admit that he was worried. Therefore, as soon as he saw the walls of the White City before him, he breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time his heart clenched in anticipation of the grave news he was going to hear. The elf did not wait for the stable boy to take care of his horse and jumped down and rushed forwards until he reached the gates to the seventh level. The guards let him pass him and led him to the King.

Aragorn strode forward to meet his friend, and Legolas observed that the man looked greatly relieved. "I am glad you made it," the King said. "I need your help, Legolas."

"What happened?" The elf asked immediately, still panting slightly from the exertion.

"I have a favor to ask of you," Aragorn started hesitantly. "Arwen has gone to Rivendell to visit her brothers, and I had to take care of something very important in her absence. Unfortunately, a delegation from Harad arrived yesterday and I will be busy with trade negotiation for the next day. Now I need someone I could trust completely to do it instead of me. I would have asked someone else, but-"

"What is it?" Legolas interrupted him impatiently. The elf's worry had only grown. Aragorn's reluctance to tell him the news immediately could mean nothing good.

The man paused indecisively. "I want to ask you to take care of Eldarion. It is only for a day. This time tomorrow I should be finished with all meetings and I will take care of him once again."

"You want me to look after your son?" Legolas was incredulous. His friend's letter had sounded so urgent, it had almost made his heart stop with worry, and all this had been about taking care of a six-month-old baby!

Aragorn misunderstood him and shifted guiltily. "Usually his nurse stays with him, but she has a cold now and we thought that it would be unwise to have her with Eldarion – she might be contagious and he is just a baby. I know it is much to ask, but I am sure you will manage. It is only for about twenty-four hours."

"Much to ask?" Legolas snorted. "It is not much to ask at all! Aragorn, I thought that this would be something more serious. Of course I would gladly take care of your son! Besides, I love playing with him!"

"Good!" Aragorn said, sounding clearly relieved. "Thank you, Legolas, I will never forget that! Do you want me to send some maids to help you?"

"Ah, there is no need!" The elf waived his hand dismissively. "I can easily manage with a child. Worry not, my friend, tomorrow your son will refuse to be parted from me."

The king laughed. "I am glad. I have a lot of work, so I will not be returning to the royal chambers tonight. Arwen is gone, so you have them all for yourself. You know how to care for a child, do you?"

"Certainly," the elf replied with a nod. Truth be told, he had never actually handled a child. Very few elves were born in Mirkwood after his birth, and he had been close to none of them, and so he had not met them as children. He had seen Eldarion once before and had played with the baby, and this was his entire experience with little children. But it could not be that hard, could it? A baby was just a smaller man.

Aragorn nodded with a grateful smile. "I will leave you then. If you have any trouble, call one of the maids. I will meet you again this time tomorrow. Arwen is returning in three days, and I will hand Eldarion to her then, so that if you are still in Minas Tirith I could even be able to spend some more time with you."

"I will be looking forward to that," the elf replied happily. "But right now I am looking forward to spending a day with your son.

Hour 1:

Legolas walked into the room and smiled at the baby sleeping in the cradle. This would not be hard at all. All he had to do was sit down and watch over the child. The elf yawned and relaxed in a chair next to the cradle. He was exhausted by all the worries and the wild ride to Minas Tirith, and he was just drifting into sleep, when Eldarion suddenly opened his eyes and started crying. Legolas jumped and was immediately at the little prince's side.

The elf's eyes were wide with worry as he looked over the tiny body. What was wrong with the child? He did not seem injured. Perhaps he was ill? Legolas touched the little forehead, but there were no signs of fever.

"Shh, don't cry, little one," he whispered soothingly, and took the baby in his arms, rocking him back and forth. "There is no need to cry." He started singing, but the baby's cries only intensified. Legolas' brow furrowed in confusion. Why was the child crying? Was this some strange human disease he knew nothing about?

He heard a maid passing down the corridor and quickly ran out, still holding the child in his arms. "Wait!" He cried. "You must help me!"

The maid stopped and looked at him in confusion. "Yes, my lord?"

"Prince Eldarion – he is crying!" The elf looked panicked. "I do not know why! Maybe it is some disease I know nothing about?"

The maid looked at him as if he had gone insane. "Or maybe the Prince is just hungry," she said simply. "This is the reason babies usually cry."

Legolas gasped. Of course! How come he had not thought of that before? Babies were unable to walk, so they could not go and get their own food. They were unable to talk, so they could not ask someone else to feed them. Their only choice was to cry and thus demonstrate their hunger.

The elf thanked the maid and rushed inside the royal chambers. He had to feed this child as fast as possible since his sensitive hearing was unable to bear the crying anymore. Besides, he was not sure if staying hungry was healthy for the young one. Legolas suddenly remembered that he had some lembas left from the journey and smiled in relief. This would certainly feed the child fast.

He took a small piece of the elven bread and placed it in the child's mouth. Eldarion's silver eyes widened in surprise, and he spat the bite towards the elf.

Legolas blinked as the saliva-covered piece of lembas hit him between the eyes. "Come now, Eldarion, I thought you were hungry. Maybe your parents do not usually feed you with this, but it is very tasty and I am sure you will like it." To illustrate his point, the elf put a bite of lembas in his own mouth and ate it, twisting his face in an expression of utter pleasure and rubbing his stomach contently. "See? It is good."

He put another piece in the child's mouth. This time, however, he was prepared when Eldarion spit it out, and ducked, leaving the projectile fly over him and land on the floor. He sighed tiredly and looked through the window, noting the position of the sun. Only one hour had passed, so twenty-three more remained.

Surely he would survive twenty-three hours…

Hour 2:

As soon as Eldarion spat out the second bite, his cries intensified. The child was obviously hungry, but stubbornly refused to eat, much to the elf's dismay.

"You know how to eat, do you not?" Legolas murmured surprised. "I put the bite in your mouth, and then you chew it with your-" Suddenly the elf took a glance into the child's mouth and froze in horror. No wonder Eldarion could not eat!

The boy had no teeth!

What sort of devilry was that? Was it some terrible disease that made all teeth fall out? Legolas mustered his courage and took a closer look into the child's mouth although the view was horrible and sent shivers of terror down his back. No, his teeth had no fallen out. That would leave holes. No, it looked more as if the child's gums had grown and had covered his teeth.

Whatever the truth was, one thing was certain. Some terrible illness had befallen Eldarion, and Legolas was the first to discover it. Now it all depended on him to save Aragorn's son from a horrible and possibly painful death.

"Help!" He screamed and rushed out of the royal chambers, holding the still crying child in his arms. "Help! I need help! The prince needs a healer!"

A young servant heard him and ran to him. "What is it, my Lord?" The boy asked fearfully. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"It is not me," the elf replied urgently. "Young Prince Eldarion is suffering from a terrible disease. I need a healer immediately!"

The servant's eyes widened in worry. "Follow me, my Lord. I will take you to Ioreth. She will know what to do."

The elf and the boy ran towards the Houses of Healing as fast as their feet could carry them. They burst into the room while the elderly healer was examining a patient, and stood at the door panting.

"What are you doing here?" Ioreth asked. "Do you not see that I am working?" Her eyes shifted towards the crying child and she frowned at Legolas. "The young prince is obviously hungry. You could go and feed him instead of standing here."

"Lady Ioreth," Legolas mumbled, trying to fight his rising panic. "I… he… Prince Eldarion needs your skills! He is gravely ill and I fear that he does not have long to live!"

The old healer paled and stared at the elf. "What is wrong with him?" She quickly asked.

The elf paused briefly, hating to bring the terrifying news. "He has no teeth."

"What?!" Ioreth, the servant, and the patient screamed at the same time.

Legolas bowed his head in grief. He knew that the news would not be accepted lightly. What if it was too late? What if this was a mortal disease that had no cure? How was he going to tell Aragorn that his son was dying? Unbidden tears came to his eyes and he blinked to keep them there.

The shocked silence lasted for a few moments until the servant boy recovered first. "You mean to tell me that you made me take you to Ioreth because the prince has no teeth?"

The elf frowned. "We should not have come to Ioreth? Why? Is this beyond her skill?"

The healer stared at him and suddenly burst into laughter, much to Legolas' shock. "He is not ill!" She cried. "He has no teeth because he is six-months-old."

Legolas looked at her in confusion. What did the child's age have to do with the fact that he had no teeth? He was beginning to wonder if he had taken Eldarion to the right healer.

Ioreth understood his confusion and smiled sympathetically. "Children are always born with no teeth," she explained. "The teeth only grow when they grow older. This is normal."

The elf blinked several times in shock. Children were born with no teeth? How was he expected to know that! His gaze immediately shifted towards the bright sun, shining through the window. One more hour had passed. Twenty-two remained.

Surely he would survive twenty-two hours…

Hour 3:

"Is it not the same with elven children?" Ioreth asked.

"To be honest, I have no idea," Legolas admitted softly. "I have never seen an elven baby." Now that he knew that Eldarion was healthy, his irritation at the child's constant crying had only increased. He was sure it was unpleasant for the humans around him, but for his sensitive ears it was pure torture.

"You still need to feed him," the healer said. "And better do it soon. The poor prince looks very hungry."

"I will," the elf replied with a nod, but suddenly froze in confusion. "How can he eat if he has no teeth?" He asked.

Ioreth sighed, desperately trying to be patient. She knew that this elf, brainless as he might seem at the moment, was a friend to the king and she did not want to insult him. "Babies eat milk," she said. "Usually Queen Arwen or his nurse breastfeed him, but now that none of them is here some cow milk will do. I am sure you will find fresh milk in the kitchen."

Legolas thanked her hastily and rushed to the door. This crying had to stop. Now!

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and looked back. "Ioreth?" He whispered hesitantly.

"Yes," the healer asked impatiently.

"I would greatly appreciate it if King Elessar never learns of this little talk we had today."

Ioreth grinned. "As you wish, my Lord."

The servant and the patient chuckled and exchanged a glance. Legolas glared at them and murmured, "The same applies to you two," before leaving the room.

He could hear the wild laughter behind his back, but at the moment Eldarion's cries were much louder and he ran towards the kitchen. This child had to be fed and fast!

When he reached the kitchen a maid showed him where to find fresh milk, the correct temperature he had to heat it to, and how to feed it to a baby, and he sat down on a chair, carefully feeding Eldarion with the nutritious liquid. Finally the child stopped crying and Legolas smiled satisfied. The worst was over. If he had handled feeding the baby, he could now handle anything.

On his way back to the royal chambers he did not miss throwing a look at the window. Three hours had passed since Aragorn had handed him the child. Twenty-one more remained.

Surely he would survive twenty-one hours…

Hour 4:

Strangely, the feeding did not seem to have cheered Eldarion. The child had stopped crying, but he was not smiling either. He was simply lying in his cradle, frowning as if in pain and whimpering occasionally. Legolas was worried. Had he fed him too much milk? He had no idea how much a child was suppose to take. And if he had given him too much, what could he do now?

One thing was obvious – the child was unhappy. And the only thing Legolas could think of was try to entertain him. The elf bent over the cradle and lifted the boy. He lifted him high in the air and grinned at him. "Can you fly, Eldarion? Do you want to? Uncle Legolas can make you fly!"

The elf threw the child upwards and caught him on his way down. And then he threw him again and again, every time throwing the baby a bit higher than before. After the third time Eldarion's frown was replaced by a smile, and very soon the little prince was laughing happily.

Legolas was laughing as well. It seemed that his babysitting hardships were finally over and at last his joyful time with Eldarion was about to begin. The two princes were looking at each other laughing, their bright eyes twinkling in merriment.

And then the unthinkable happened. The poor elf was completely unprepared when he was suddenly sprayed with a dense mixture of milk and stomach acid, and almost dropped the baby. Eldarion gazed innocently at the filthy and shocked elf and laughed happily.

Legolas glared at the child. "You did that on purpose, did you not?" He asked angrily. The elf swiftly cleaned the child's face and set to cleaning himself. He desperately needed a bath. All of his clothes were covered in the sticky substance and he hastily took them off in disgust. Before he entered the adjacent bathing chamber, he realized that Eldarion was staring at him with a grin. "Now, what are you looking at?" The elf asked angrily and unsuccessfully tried not to blush. He grabbed a tower and wrapped it around his waist. "And when you learn to talk, don't you dare tell your parents that you have seen me naked!" Legolas could have sworn that the baby had winked at him conspiratorially.

The elf shook his head and opened the door to the bathing chamber. He tried to wash himself as quickly as possible so that he could still keep an eye on the child. When he came out, he looked forlornly at his dirty clothes. After receiving Aragorn's urgent letter he had left Ithilien so quickly that he had had no time to pack more clothes. The elf looked around. Perhaps he could borrow some of the king's clothes. He was sure his friend would not mind. Certainly they would be too big for him, but at least they would be clean.

He started rummaging through the closest wardrobe. "Arwen's clothes," he muttered and continued looking. "More Arwen's clothes. I am not that desperate yet." He heard a chuckle behind him and turned to grin at the child before moving to the next wardrobe. "Guess what we have here, my prince. Even more Arwen's clothes! Doesn't your father have any clothes, Eldarion?" The baby did not reply, so he continued. "When I think about it, he would not need them. Especially if he has kept his old ranger habit of taking a bath once a year. Ouch!" Legolas looked down to see what had hit him. Lovely! Eldarion was now throwing his toys at him! Who would give such dangerous weapons to an insane baby? "Alright, I admit, I was exaggerating," he murmured reluctantly and went on rummaging through the piles of dresses. Occasionally he found some baby clothes, and then more dresses again.

When he opened the final wardrobe, he sighed in relief. "Ah, here they are!" Legolas put on the royal robes, which were visibly too big for him, and looked unhappily at the mirror. His expression only darkened when Eldarion started laughing at him.

The elf quickly tore his look from his reflection and gazed longingly at the sun. Four hours had passed. Only twenty remained.

Surely he could survive twenty hours…

Hour 5:

Legolas collapsed tiredly on a chair and prepared to rest, when a strong and unpleasant smell suddenly assaulted his senses. His warrior instincts made him stand up immediately and in a moment he was ready, his knives clutched tightly in his hands. What could smell so foul? Surely there were orcs nearby! But how had the filthy creatures managed to enter the city?

Just then he heard that Eldarion had started crying. Still on his guard, Legolas carefully approached the cradle. "Shh, little one, I will take care of you. I will never let those foul creatures lay their dirty hands on you. I promise."

The child did not stop crying, and the elf risked throwing him a quick glance. What he saw made him choke and drop his weapons in horror. For he had discovered the source of the smell and it was an evil that could not be defeated by any weapon known to him.

Eldarion's clothes and sheets were soaked in a yellowish liquid of unpleasant odor. Legolas closed his eyes and took a step back. This could not be happening!

The elf took a few moments to muster his courage and opened his eyes again. Then he clenched his fists in determination. He would defeat this enemy as he could defeat any other! Legolas proceeded to his task and sighed in resignation. In times such as this he cursed his superior elven senses. And why did one need the sense of smell anyway?

When the elf completed this challenging quest, he placed the now clean and blessedly asleep baby in his cradle. Legolas yawned and looked through the window once again. Five hours had passed. Only nineteen remained.

Surely he would survive nineteen hours…

Hour 6:

The elf could barely believe his good fortune. After Eldarion had fallen asleep, he had not awoken, giving him a moment of peace. And Legolas needed the peace. Most of all, he needed to take a very long and thorough bath once again. No matter how well he washed himself, the horrible smell of the yellow liquid always seemed to cling to him.

After the elf had washed himself very carefully, he put on Aragorn's clothes once again and tried to make himself look as presentable as possible. But when he sniffed the air around him, all his dreams crushed like an old ship in a stormy sea. This cursed smell was going to stay with him for days.

Legolas rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the sun. Only an hour! He had hoped that Eldarion had been asleep for a longer time. But an hour was an hour, and now only eighteen remained.

Surely he would survive eighteen hours…

Hour 7:

The exhausted elf had hoped that the baby would sleep for a longer time, but Eldarion awoke too soon for his liking. And every evil usually brings a second one along – not only did the child awake, but he immediately started crying.

Legolas examined him carefully. Nothing appeared out of order, and the experienced babysitter came to the obvious conclusion that the baby was hungry. Again. How often did that boy need to eat?

As he took Eldarion in his arms and left the royal chambers, he managed to throw a look at the sun. Seven hours had passed since he had agreed to look after his friend's son. Seventeen more remained.

Surely he would survive seventeen hours…

Hour 8:

Legolas entered the kitchen and greeted the maid he found there. "I need some fresh milk," he said. "Your young prince is hungry again."

The girl looked at him regretfully. "I am sorry my lord, but unfortunately we just ran out of milk. We are waiting for more supplies."

The elf looked dismayed. "There is no milk in the city?"

"At least not the in the palace," the maid replied. "Surely there must be plenty of milk in the city, in the people's homes."

Legolas nodded. "Do you know when the supplies will arrive?" He asked.

She shook her head. "I can say nothing for sure. They might arrive soon, or might take a few more hours."

The elf sighed. Eldarion was still crying loudly in his arms, telling him that a few hours were way too long. Where could he find milk? Perhaps he could walk through the city and knock on every door, asking people if they had any.

He was about to leave when his gaze moved to the maid and he was struck by a sudden idea. "Wait!" He cried.

"What is it?" The girl asked surprised.

"You are a woman!" Legolas said triumphantly as if he had made some important discovery.

The maid was genuinely taken aback by his words. "Yes, I have always been one," she murmured confused and somewhat offended. "How clever of you to notice!"

The elf, however, was grinning widely. "You are a woman! You can breastfeed him!" He cried happily and handed her the child.

She paled and looked at him in shock. "How dare you!" The maid hissed and slapped his cheek before storming out of the room.

Legolas held the child in his right arm and cupped his aching cheek with his left palm while gazing at the door with a hurt expression on his face. "I do not understand," he whispered. "She could have fed him."

A merry chuckle behind him made him turn around. An old man, who was cleaning the tables, was watching him with an amused look. "You do not know much about women, do you?" He asked smiling.

Legolas sighed in defeat and rocked Eldarion back and forth, trying to stop his cries. "Perhaps you could enlighten me," he said.

The servant's smile broadened. "Well, first of all, women do not have milk all the time. It is only after they have given birth to a child. Is it not the same with elven women? Perhaps you have greater control over your bodies and your women can choose when to have milk."

"To be honest, I have no idea," Legolas admitted softly.

The old man chuckled. "My boy, I see that you still have a lot to learn."

Apparently I do, Legolas thought bitterly. In all the centuries he had lived he had never needed to care for a baby and perhaps a ten-year-old child would do better than him! He thanked the man and left the kitchen. On his way he caught a glimpse of the sun. Sixteen more hours!

Surely he could survive sixteen hours…

Hour 9:

The elf had little luck in his search for fresh milk. He walked through the city and knocked on every door, but few were able to help him. The sun had not set yet, and many people were still outside, working in the fields, so he received no response. A kind woman he met promised him that when her husband returned with the goats tonight, she would milk them and save some for him. Unfortunately, tonight was too far away for the hungry baby in Legolas' arms.

A boy and a girl who opened one of the doors claimed to have milk, but it looked old and rotten, and the elf was fearful to give it to the child. At another house he managed to find some milk, but it was not enough to feed the hungry Eldarion and the little prince kept on crying.

Legolas sat on a bench and tiredly closed his eyes. When he opened them, he quickly closed them again to ward off the bright glare of the sun. When had the sun fallen so low? The poor child had been starving for too long! He had to find milk soon if he wanted to return the boy healthy and happy to Aragorn at the end of those fifteen hours that remained.

And he would surely survive fifteen hours…

Hour 10:

Legolas was about to knock on the next door, when he noticed something that made his heart leap in hope. It was a woman holding a little child, no more than one year of age. She had given birth recently! He shushed Eldarion and quickly approached her. "Well met, my lady! I am glad to see you."

The woman grinned and threw the elf a glance that surprisingly made him shudder in dread. "I am most glad to meet you too, my lord," she said beaming. "How can I help you?"

Legolas had the uncomfortable feeling that she was examining him from head to toe, drinking every detail. He hesitated for a brief moment, but Eldarion needed milk and he had no choice. "I see that you have a young child," he said. "This boy I have here is hungry. I was wondering if you… if you… if you could breastfeed him," he said timidly and took a step back. He could still remember the maid's reaction and was prepared to guard his cheeks.

The woman's face seemed to be shining. "I would love to, Master Elf! Come, bring him closer!" She said and her nimble fingers moved to undo the buttons of her shirt.

"Stop that!" A male voice boomed from the inside. Suddenly a flushed and angered man appeared, and he glared at Legolas, his eyes dark with rage. "What do you think you are doing with my wife?"

The startled elf's eyes widened. "You are wrong, my good man, I certainly never meant to-"

"I am not your good man and I know very well what you meant to do!" The man shouted in fury. "I saw you! You wanted my wife to take off her shirt!"

The woman was still smiling brightly and did not seem troubled by her husband's anger. "Come now, my love, no harm is done. The lad only wanted to-"

The man ignored her and moved forward, grabbing the front of Legolas' tunic and lifting him off his feet. The elf was still holding Eldarion in his arms and could not push him back. Legolas was feeling quite uncomfortable in the strange situation and was hoping that not many people would watch the scene. Unfortunately, a small crowd had already begun to gather.

"I saw you!" The man repeated. "You wanted my wife to take off her shirt!"

The elf vigorously shook his head. "I certainly never wanted her to do such a thing!" He protested.

"Silence!" The angry husband cried. "Did you not ask her to breastfeed this boy?"

"I did, but I never-"

"And how would she feed the boy without taking off her shirt?" The man snapped.

Legolas did not like where this was going. "Then I suppose I wanted her to take it off, but only to-"

"Silence!" The man shouted again and turned towards the crowd. "Did you hear that? He admitted his guilt! Shameless elf! I will complain to the King!"

Legolas gulped nervously. The last thing he needed was Aragorn to find out how exactly he was taking care of his son.

The anger in the man's eyes had only grown. "Perhaps elven women take off their shirts for every stranger," he hissed, "but the women of Gondor know how to behave properly!"

The grin on his wife's face, however, and the glances she was throwing at Legolas suggested that she had never heard the meaning of 'proper behavior'.

Her husband finally released the pale elf, who collapsed in a heap on the ground but managed to keep the baby unhurt. Eldarion had long ago stopped crying and was observing the scene with curiosity. He is memorizing it all and will tell Aragorn everything once he learns to talk, the elf thought in terror.

The man glared at his wife, who seemed to be melting on the spot. "Stop looking at him like that!" He said angrily.

"And how should I look at him?" The woman asked and sighed dreamily. "He has much to look at – this silky golden hair, those bottomless eyes, this porcelain face – ah! I would say he is almost as handsome as our King!"

Legolas choked and almost dropped Eldarion. He had not wanted this woman's compliments because they made him feel uncomfortable and made him want to run as far away as possible, but now she had practically insulted him! How could she compare him to this former scruffy, muddy and greasy-haired ranger! Now this was an incident Aragorn had to learn nothing about!

The man liked his wife's words not much more than Legolas did, and turned to shout something at her. The elf used the moment of inattention and sprinted away.

As he left this horrible house behind him, he managed to glance at the sun. Fourteen more hours remained. Would he survive them? He was not so sure anymore…

Hour 11:

The good thing about this accident was that Eldarion had obviously forgotten his hunger and was now laughing happily. That was the only good thing. In fact, the child was not only laughing, but was also occasionally smirking and throwing Legolas conspiratorial winks much to the elf's horror.

Legolas had reached a decision – he was not going to ask any more human women to feed Eldarion! He could easily get the milk of an animal, maybe a cow or a sheep, perhaps a goat. Now the elf realized that those animals would do best because they had milk all the time, while most others had only after giving birth. He should have thought of that earlier.

Surely there had to be a herd of sheep or cows somewhere nearby and he would find one to milk. Legolas rode out of the city gates and looked at the Pelennor Fields in growing dismay. This was such a vast field! Why did no one use it to graze their stock here! Where could he find cows now?

Legolas remembered that years ago a villager had told him that he preferred to graze his cows up the mountains. In this way the animals were forced to climb to reach the grass, and consequently they had less fat and more muscle, which resulted in better meat. His memory made him ride towards the White Mountains although he knew that he would have no time to reach them. There were lower hills and forests on the way, however, and he hoped to find his fortune there.

The elf was worried that if they did not find any animals soon, it would get even harder after sunset. It was summer and the day was long, but still the sun was sinking lower and lower towards the ground. Thirteen hours remained until he was to hand Eldarion back to Aragorn. He had already survived almost half of his ordeal!

Surely he would survive just thirteen more hours…

Hour 12:

For some time the elf had been suspecting that Eldarion had never been hungry at the first place and had been crying for some mysterious reason. The baby had stopped crying long ago and was now happily sucking his thumb and frequently giving Legolas' hair a strong pull.

The elf grimaced as the little prince laughed merrily and showed him triumphantly how many golden hairs he had managed to separate from the fair head. Legolas sighed. Even if the child was not so hungry now, he would definitely need milk later, so it was better to continue their search. Besides, Minas Tirith was left far behind already, and the horse was taking them further into the wilds. And although the sun was going to set soon, its sight lifted Legolas' spirits. Only half a day remained!

Surely he would survive twelve more hours…

…even though if Legolas knew what was awaiting him, he would not be so sure at all.

To be continued…