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Calaer quietly cleaned up the spilt wine herself and rectified the chalice before sitting back down. There was a heavy silence now in the dining hall which made her feel uneasy.

"Are you alright Calaer?" Her father asked her quietly and she nodded.

"Of course, I just did not expect he was truly suffering so badly." She admitted and he gave her a sad smile. They picked at their remaining food in silence until the King eventually returned alone. Calaer looked up questioningly at him, unsure what to say; she knew she could not simply ask if Legolas was alright for he was not, he seemed worlds away from alright. The King seemed to realise her hesitation and smiled at her although it was strained.

"I bade Legolas retire for the remainder of the eve, he has trouble concentrating when it becomes too much." He said softly, sorrow evident in his voice and eyes.

"Might he wish for his meal to be sent to his quarters?" She asked and received a wistful smile.

"I am afraid he would not eat it; he has had very little appetite these past few years."

"Sounds quite like someone else I know." Elphir commented and flickered his eyes towards her."

"I try and that is the main thing." She replied swiftly in defense and then realised the King was watching her with a raised brow and quickly mumbled an apology.

"No need, we are all friends here." The King said kindly. "Now I will tell you of what you might expect of Legolas, I am afraid not much but I will tell you all I can and answer any questions you have."

For the next hour, Calaer listened carefully and sadly as The King told explained Legolas's habits involving the Sea Longing; the poor Elf sounded to be so truly lost within his own mind and his current existence seemed so very lonely, form what the King detailed, it was as if he hardly remembered how to be an Elf anymore.

"My Lord what was Legolas like before all this?" She asked when he had finished speaking and he closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

"Legolas was quite the mischievous Elf, during my younger years in Imladris, if Legolas travelled to the valley for some reason or other by his father's bidding, he would always find some excuse to remain a few days longer which would infuriate the Elven-King because time moves slower in the realm of Imladris and every extra day he spent with us was about an extra fifteen days he was longer away from his duties as a Prince. He was dear friends with my two foster brothers, Elladan and Elrohir and there was no telling what amounts of mischief they would cause when the three of them were together. I have known him since I were but ten years of age and he is my dearest friend. He has a big, kind and courageous heart and I know it is still there, and he is fiercely loyal." Calaer found herself smiling as the King recalled past deeds he and Legolas had got up to; he sounded like he had been a joyful Elf indeed before the Sea Longing had taken him. As she had listened, a cough had been niggling at the back of her throat and her airways were beginning to protest as she tried to hold it back, tried to remain polite. She sipped at her chalice of lemon water hoping to quell the feeling but it was quickly threatening to get the best of her. To her embarrassment her silent, inner battle did not go unnoticed by the King.

"Calaer are you well at this moment?" He asked her worriedly.

"Yes I am well thank you." She said quickly before taking another sip of her drink. He gave her a disbelieving look causing her cheeks to colour a little.

"She is pretending." Imrahil chuckled and she scowled at him, annoyed he had just admitted so to the King of all people. "You cannot fool Elessar Calaer, he is a healer.

"Sorry my Lord." She said quietly to the King who merely smiled at her.

"Please, only call me Elessar." The King said and Calaer looked at him in shock, she could not possibly do that! She forced herself to nod and his smile widened.

"Excellent, now please tell me what ails you at this moment?"

"I am trying not to cough at the table." She said quietly.

"I promise I will not be offended if you do, and I think you should; you seem to be having quite the inner fight to not do so." He commented and blushing again, she nodded and turned away and coughed once, twice and then a third time until the offending obstruction was cleared before taking a quick drink. "You feel better now?" He asked and she nodded.

"Yes my lor…I mean Elessar." She quickly corrected herself and received a grin which surprised her.

"I wonder if you would allow me to examine you, I admit I am very intrigued by your condition and eager to learn how you have been treating it." He asked kindly and Calaer looked uncertainly to her grandfather and father who nodded.

"Yes and I will answer any questions you may have." She replied after a moment and the King stood up and made his way to her side of the table and took the seat beside her and beckoned her to move her seat around so they faced each other.

"Woe to that child which when kissed on the forehead tastes salty. He is bewitched and soon must die." The King murmured as he lent forward and lightly kissed her brow. "But you thrive on." He gave her a smile. "You are an enigma."

"Indeed she is." Her father commented proudly. "We enlisted the very best healers in Gondor but Calaer's endurance even from when she was but an infant has been a mixture of luck and her own tenacious spirit."

"I have not missed that." Elessar smiled at her father before focusing his attention back to her. I understand you have trouble holding onto your weight."

"Yes, I do. It is why I eat similar to the Elves; their diet lacks the richness of animal fats which do not really agree with me." She replied with a grin for the topic was a little funny to be discussing with a King!

"We discovered quite by accident when she was but days old that she could not tolerate the milk from a wet-nurse that she could tolerate well stewed fruits and so we added quite a few, hoping to keep her nourished in the early days. As she continued to thrive, we tried her with other stewed foods and it was trial and error learning what she could or could not tolerate and through this we discovered she could indeed tolerate eggs and milk, cheese and sometimes cream and butter if she had eaten pineapple and papaya which are always readily available in our coastal region."

"The powder I shook onto my food earlier is both fruits I have dried out and had pulverised, it seems to be more concentrated and works even better for me but I still avoid meats although fish is not so bad on occasion." Calaer pipped up. "And it tastes quite nice so I do not mind taking it at all."

"That is quite fascinating." The King commented. "Do you keep records of all these findings?"

"Yes, grandfather has been keeping notes on all earlier trials and errors and I have a written my treatments down myself and how to make up any tinctures, medicines and such." She said answered enthusiastically and he grinned at her.

"You are certainly an intelligent young lady." She beamed at that.

"Thank you, you are too kind, much of it has been my father, auntie and my grandfather; they are the people who have ensured I am still here today."

"What of your lungs, how do they fare?" Calaer's smile faltered as she gazed back at the King and with a sigh, explained to him just how they were.

…

For a while, Legolas could hear voices and laughter which floated to him every now and then through the crash of waves. Eventually they had ceased and the light beneath the door had dimmed to near nothing. Now all he could hear was the sound of the sea, wave rolling and wind roaring above them. He stood, pale hands wrapped around cool bars, face pressed between them, tasting the salt of the sea with every deep breath he drew in. His mind drifted with the waves, thoughts scattered of memories from long ago, the quest with the Fellowship and then after and the last few hours. He wondered if Aragorn was still here or if he had left. He would not blame him if he left him here. The waves crashed and yet he was sure he heard a beat, like a drum. It went on a while and then ceased before beginning again. He did not know how long it went on for, seeming to mingle with the sounds of the sea but he knew when it did finally cease and wondered briefly at it before the sound of waves invaded his mind again and he lent clutched onto the iron bars of his prison in despair.

Hours past and he did not move, face still pressed against the bars, the iron hard against his cheek bones. Presently through the waves he heard what he was sure was coughing and wondered briefly at that for it was a surprising sound. It went on for a while and through the swirls and waves it struck at him, for surely the person was suffering in some way. He remembered then before Aragorn had ushered him from the dining hall; gazing into blue eyes but seeing further, seeing a wisp of a vibrant soul swathed with tendrils of a dark and foreboding shadow. He shuddered and closed his eyes, listening again for the sound of one suffering something he did not understand but all he heard now was the sea.

...

"Woe to that child which when kissed on the forehead tastes salty. He is bewitched and soon must die." This is a phrase from the 1600's regarding infants who were born in that time whose skin was salty and they died soon after, labeled as 'Failure to thrive.'

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