Though this chapter is very sad, I enjoyed putting it together.

It was ten at night in Gondor. Elrond was quite tired. He'd been tending patients all day, many with serious wounds and injuries, and was constantly making his rounds. A restful break sounded wonderful, but he wanted to check on Alasse at least one more time before he took it easy. True to his word as he'd promised Legolas, she would be well looked after here. He came to her bed to relieve the current healer. "How is the Mirkwood princess?" He asked.

"Quite poorly, my lord." The female healer replied quietly. "The fever is not relenting. Even as she sleeps, it is far from peaceful. I have been trying to prevent her from moving around too much."

"Ai." Elrond approved. He told the lady healer to fetch him some more medicine while he took over for a while. Alasse slept tensely. He was about to sit down on the bed when Alasse moaned loudly. Her stomach lurched, and without warning, she jolted upright in the bed vomiting. Elrond was instantly at her side. Her eyes were wild with panic as she gagged and threw up, crying and panting, plus the sudden convulsion was aggravating her injuries! Elrond shouted for some help, when two of the other healers rushed in. One of them firmly held Alasse by her arms so she wouldn't rock back and forth so much. The other held a bowl and towel in front of her for her mouth's contents while Elrond held her hair back and kept his another planted on her chest where he could feel her erratic heart rhythm.

"The Orc poison is attacking her system." Elrond said. All this time since the attack, Alasse had not vomited until now. This episode made Elrond realize that they had not removed all the poison from her body as he'd hoped.

"I'm sorry!" Alasse wept when she was finished throwing up.

"Shh. It's all right, Alasse." Elrond told her as they cleaned her up. "You have no control over this." Alasse winced hard.

"Hurts...bad! My shoulder...really hurts..." She croaked. It was right then, that Elrond noticed her shoulder was red! He carefully pulled down her tunic sleeve and to his chagrin, the bandages were bled through. He removed them to find a few stitches out of place! The sudden movement from bolting upright so fast had done it.

"Alasse, I have to ask. Does your middle hurt as well?" Elrond asked cautiously.

"Mmm-hmm." Alasse nodded quickly, shedding tears. Elrond and the healers pulled back the covers, opened the now red-stained shift she was wearing. Peeling the bandages away, the stitches on her stomach had been ripped open and lots of blood was spilling out. The healers sprang into action. Alasse passed out from the shock of the duress, and the acute pain. The healers staunched the bleeding as much as possible, restitched and rebandaged her, then took a step back to catch their breaths. It was now passed midnight.

"I will stay with her." Elrond said. He told them. Keeping a fresh towel, a bowl of cool water, and a fresh rag on hand, he monitored Alasse's vitals. She was weak, and her heart rate though slightly calmer now was very low. He placed his hand on her brows and quietly hummed an Elvish chant for her to sleep without much pain the rest of the night.

Elrond had drifted off during the graveyard hours of the night and now dawn was only a couple hours away. He was awakened by the familiar sounds of suffering. Lifting his head and shaking his face awake, he looked down at his patient. Alasse was grimacing tightly and moaned in her sleep, tightly holding her stomach. Elrond felt her forehead with his hand. The fever was still rising. As he stood up and soaked a rag in water, Alasse started to turn on her side, but was sharply cut short when pain stabbed through her body and she fell back, and whimpered painfully. "Easy, child. Easy! You must be still." Elrond said to her, rubbing her uninjured shoulder. She shivered with her eyes closed.

"W-w-where..." She gasped.

"Shh. Stay calm, Alasse." Elrond said quietly, dabbing her hot face with a cool cloth, making her flinch at the sudden coldness. "You're in the healing room at Gondor. You've been badly injured. But we're going to look after you." Alasse tried to blink in response but the fever made her eyes hurt. But she knew the familiar voice and it comforted her. Elrond touched her face. "You're safe, Alasse. You just rest now, child." He said soothingly.

"Lord Elrond?" She spoke with her eyes barely open. "Legolas...he's not here." She said. I can feel it. "Where is he?"

"He departed this afternoon, to assist Aragorn in tracking down the rest of the Orcs." Alasse nodded meekly and tears filled her eyes. She tried to stifle a sob.

"Legolas...I miss him." Alasse gulped. And Aragorn!

"Ai."

"I'm sorry." She tried to wipe her eyes, and her head ached.

"No need to apologize, dear." Elrond said sympathetically, patting her hand. "It's understandable. But you need your rest now." Alasse began to feel very drowsy already, but she didn't want to go to sleep! She was afraid to. What if she never woke up? "I must fix you some more medicine." Elrond said and started to turn away but she anxiously gripped his hand, like a frightened child. He looked down at her in surprise.

"Will...will you sit with me for a minute, please?" She whimpered. She felt bad keeping him from other patients, but she was scared and felt so lonely. Elrond arched his eyebrows.

"You don't want to be alone?"

"No, I don't."

"Certainly, child. I can spare a few moments." Elrond agreed, and sat beside her.

"Hannon le." She sighed in relief, but still shedding tears. Elrond asked one of the other healers to get the medicine he requested.

"What is troubling you? Is it the pain?" The kind elder healer asked.

"Sir, I'm afraid."

"Of what, meld penneth?"

"Of...I'm scared...that I won't see Legolas again, when he returns. That I won't be here." She said in a shaky voice. Or Aragorn! I wish you were here. I feel...that I will not see you again, before you return victorious. I'd hope to say farewell to you...one last time. Of course, she missed her brother something fierce. But, she had not revealed her feelings about Aragorn to any of the elders. She was sure they would frown on such a relationship, between an elf and a mortal. So, as much as she showed her feelings around her friends, she had not declared her true desire. And now? She sensed that she would never have that chance.

"What makes you say that, meld penneth?" Elrond pressed gently.

Alasse bit her lip. "It hurts...badly...all the time." She said honestly, almost more to herself than to him. She had never known physical pain like this, and it was constant. "It all hurts. I just want it to stop! But it does not!" Tears poured down her face. Elrond clasped both of her hands, and gently rubbed her knuckles.

"I know." He said kindly. Alasse grew eerily silent for a moment, then looked up at him so despondently that he almost couldn't meet her eyes.

"Am I going to die?" She asked defeatedly. The great healer felt as if he'd been socked in the gut. He knew the answer and he could not lie, but he didn't want to tell her, resulting in her giving up and perishing quicker! He'd watched his own daughter, his sweet, precious Arwen suffer during the War of the Ring. He'd had to stand by and watch as she had quietly accepted her fate, and nothing he could do to preserve her life. Thank the Valar Arwen was still alive! Alasse was not his daughter, but right now she was helplessly looking up to him for comfort and protection as if she was, and she'd always been a dear friend. She was looking to him for help. He didn't have the heart to give up on her just yet. He strengthened his grip on her hands and looked her right in the eyes.

"I won't let that happen." He told her firmly. Her face fell. "Alasse dear, I know you're very ill. And I know you're alone without Legolas, and afraid. But I can't help you get better when you're thinking on such dreary matters." He smiled.

"I want to know the truth." She said directly, not amused at all. Elrond nodded with a sigh.

"There is still hope, dear one. You hold to that." He said quietly, rubbing her hands. She subtly nodded. He could feel her strength wavering as he clasped her palms, and the extensive speaking had already worn her out. "Now, you really need to rest. Here, try to drink this." He helped her raise her head a little to drink a cup of medicine. She took only a few sips then he eased her back down. "Now, I want you to go back to sleep." He said.

"Thank you...for staying with me." She murmured and closed her heavy eyes, as the exhaustion and the medicine took over.

"Sleep peacefully, child." Elrond whispered as he tenderly bathed her hot face with a cool cloth. Alasse's breathing became even as she drifted back to sleep, though she still looked pained. Elrond decided that this would be a good time to check her wounds again.

Elrond had examined the wounds, with the help of one of the other healers, and he was greatly concerned. If Alasse was to make it alive out of this, they should've shown signs of clearing up by now! Elrond and the healer cleansed and redressed, and bandaged the wounds again. In all this, Alasse remained asleep but she did whimper here and there. Elrond sighed heavily as he covered her back up with the blanket. The sun was just now rising.

Elrond rose wearily and finally turned to leave when standing in the entrance of the healing hall across the room, he saw one of the last people he'd expected to show up! "My lord Thranduil!" Elrond gaped.

The great Elvin king stood there, frozen and looking petrified. His usually intimidating, majestic stance was faltered with grief. "Elrond, my daughter...is...is she..." Thranduil stammered, afraid to ask.

Elrond came forward. "She is alive, my friend." Elrond smiled sadly, touching his shoulder. "But very weak. I am doing everything I can for her. She is a strong maiden, Mellon. But her injuries were most severe, and as of now she is fighting just to see another day. Just so you know, the damage was extensive, and all things considered, she's lucky just to be breathing!"

The shaken Elvin king stared at him in horror then slowly nodded. "C-can I see her?" Thranduil asked sadly.

"Of course." Elrond nodded. Thranduil had been in war and seen many horrible sights. But still, he was not prepared for what he saw when his eyes fell on his princess. She looked so frail, so pale, so drained of life that only the rising and falling of her chest was what indicated to him that she was still alive. He hardly recognized her. This wasn't the cheery, bright, and bouncy elleth he'd known since the moment of conception. He was sick at heart as he gazed painfully at his normally strong daughter.

"Alasse...my darling...no...mui meld -iel..." He choked, tears filling his eyes. He removed his armored gloves and dropped down, kneeling at her bedside, his normally strong shoulders shaking.

"How did you come by at this time?" Elrond asked his friend.

"News of the White City's great victory has spread all over, mellon." Thranduil replied without looking, trying to regain his voice. "But then word also reached me that the princess of Mirkwood had fallen in battle! I...I...I just had to come! I didn't want to believe it. I had to know for myself. Mithrandir brought me."

"You made the right choice, Mellon-nin. I'd have done the same. I'm truly glad you're here, though I am terribly sorry for the circumstances and what you have to witness." Elrond said sympathetically. He could easily identify with his friend's anguish! He had done all he could to shield Arwen from harm and heartache. Fortunately for him, she still lived, and he was beyond grateful that she was immortal, and would not suffer as the men, dwarves, and hobbits did! But Elrond could almost physically feel his friend's agony. He knew what it felt like, how hard it was to feel helpless and unable to protect his daughter from being hurt. He'd been there once and would not want to go through it again for anything! Yet now here was his old friend, inflicted with the same heartache! But he would be there through this with him, to offer whatever comfort he could!

"I would rather be here to help her through it, then back in my palace not knowing the truth." Thranduil said.

"Ai. That is best. Perhaps it will lift her spirits the next time she awakes." Elrond said encouragingly.

"Go, my friend. No doubt you have other patients to look after her. I wish to stay here with my daughter." Thranduil looked back at him, almost pleadingly.

"That is fine." Elrond bowed and left. One of the healers appeared with a bowl of fresh water and a dry cloth. She started to wet the rag and put it on Alasse's head.

"Here. Let me do that!" Thranduil begged, taking the rag from her. The healer gaped up at him suspiciously. He was no mere, ordinary elf, that was for sure! He was dressed grandly in a lavish traveling robe and magnificent cape. She'd never seen him before.

"I beg your pardon, my lord, but who are you?" The healer asked firmly.

"I am her father!" Thranduil retorted. The healer blinked. Alasse had been dressed in simple archer clothes when they'd brought her in, and not wearing anything that shouted princess. But Elrond had been the last healer to be with Alasse a little bit ago, and he would never let some stranger just walk up and monitor his patients unless he trusted them.

"Of course. Forgive me, my lord." The lady bowed, feeling much more at ease. "I am sorry that you have to see her in this state."

"So am I." Thranduil gulped sadly and kneeling down again, started caressing Alasse's face with the wet rag. The healer was astounded that the larger-than-life, intimidating figure she'd just witnessed could be so gentle and tender.

"If you need help, just call for it." She said as she bowed and began to leave.

"I will. Thank you." He said. Thranduil gazed down at Alasse, who was sleeping so deeply she didn't even sense he was there. His troubled thoughts went back to the moment he'd received the tragic news...

Yesterday in Mirkwood

"Gondor has achieved victory again, Sire! But...I am afraid we also bear some most tragic news, my lord king." Feren said gravely. Thranduil stiffened and peered at his servant nervously.

"What is that?" He asked slowly.

"My deepest apologies, my lord. We have received word that in the great battle, the lady of Mirkwood, Princess Alas-"

"NO!" Thranduil sharply cut him off with an anguished cry. "I don't believe you!"

"My lord," Feren tried to speak calmly, but he felt like a murderer telling his worshiped king such heartbreaking news, "it has been reported that she fell to the sword in the midst of battle. I'm eternally sorry."

"What?! No! It's not true! I won't allow it!" Thranduil's eyes widened with fear and he instantly rose to his feet from the throne. "Surely you're mistaken."

"My Lord! Gandalf the White is here!" One of the guards declared. Thranduil's heart dropped into his stomach and he ran to greet the white wizard.

"Mithrandir!" Thranduil cried. "What brings you here?"

"Unhappy tidings, I'm sorry to say." Gandalf answered gravely.

"I cannot be..." Thranduil shook his head, petrified. Suddenly his usually sturdy legs felt like butter. "No..."

"No doubt news has preceded me on my journey." Gandalf frowned. "I am afraid you must accompany me back at once." He looked at the shaken Elvin king with all seriousness. "My friend, your only daughter whom you love is dying! Come with me now! You must come!" Gandalf implored him.

Thranduil sharply commanded a servant to saddle his stag. He grasped his swarming head and ran his fingers anxiously through his long, silky hair. This couldn't be real. He could not be hearing this! Tears blurred his vision and he felt nauseous and dizzy. He was breathing raggedly and he stumbled to the floor, struggling to process a coherent thought...

Thranduil remembered those horrible moments too vividly. And the pain he'd felt when Gandalf had confirmed his fears was now reeling through his body all over again. He reached out and cradled Alasse's face as he leaned down closer to her. He clasped her small, limp hand in his large one and kissed her palm with hot tears. "Alasse..." he swallowed hard. "Daughter, I am here! I'm with you. Don't leave me! I beg you. Fight! You must fight! Fight to live. You and Legolas are my pride and joy. If I lose either of you, my life is worth nothing! Please, live..." He winced and lay his head on the bed, close to hers.

Gandalf watched his old friend dismally. He and Thranduil hadn't always seen eye to eye before on the matters of other realms or the proper strategies for dealing with enemies. But through it all, they'd still been friends. Gandalf had been there when Thranduil married his wife, when both of their children were born, and when Thranduil had lost his wife. They'd both been through and seen a lot in their lives. The sight before him broke Gandalf's heart.

Alasse began convulsing. Thranduil felt Alasse's forehead, and drew his hand back in alarm. He rose to his feet and grabbed the first healer he saw. "My daughter needs help! She is burning up badly!" He implored the female healer. She hurried to Alasse's bedside and confirmed the king's worry.

"Stay with her, my lord. I am going to fetch Master Elrond." She instructed him. Thranduil nodded and hovered over Alasse protectively, caressing her flaring face. He glanced fearfully at Elrond when he hurried in.

"I'm afraid you'll have to step back, my friend. We have to check the wounds again. You're welcome to stay near, but I suggest you look away if you do not wish to see what has truly happened to her." Elrond warned him.

"I will stay. And I will watch. I am never letting her out of my sight again!" Thranduil declared.

Elrond nodded. "It is not going to be a pretty sight."

Thranduil shuddered when he saw her ugly wounds. He'd known she'd been hurt badly, but now he could see just how badly! Thranduil fisted his hands and leaned against the wall for support. Rage burned through his veins as he was forced to witness the horrible and most likely irreparable damage that had been inflicted on his daughter! His little girl elf! In his mind, he silently cursed the Valar for letting this happen to his little girl. Where was the divine logic in that?! And why?! What had she done to deserve this?

Gandalf quietly stepped beside Thranduil and coming to the edge of the bed, he spread his hand out over Alasse's flushed face. He whispered an enchantment, praying it would work.