A Note From Sun Queen: Hey everyone! Usual apologies for the lateness of the chapter, but I have excuses besides laziness this time. I literally had *no* time to write, and I'm afraid that life will only get busier, but I'll try to update every week. I hope to have this fic finished by the beginning of summer.



Lookie! We broke the 200 review mark! Yay! Cinnamon macchiatos and pixie sticks for everyone!



Okay, your totally unrelated note for this chapter: It's Mother's Day, and I want all of you to get up and give your mums a hug before you read this. Go ahead. The computer will still be here when you get back.



Oh, and if the thought of blood squicks you, this chapter is not for you. Nothing too awful, but a little warning nonetheless. Poison can be pretty tricky to get out of the bloodstream...



Chapter Eleven: Poison



I awoke with a very undignified yelp as a burning spike of pain drove through my midsection. Reality slowly seeped back into my foggy brain; I'd spoken with the Lady Galadriel, looked into her mirror, and I'd seen another Elf standing beside me by the Sea. My *brother*, he'd called me...



But none of my brothers had brown hair and bright green eyes.



I was lying on my back on a *very* hard table, staring up at a low stone ceiling, spotted with age and odd stains. From the ache in my shoulders and ass, I'd been there for quite some time. My shirt and tunic were gone, and I felt a cold draft on my bare chest. A fire was burning somewhere to my left, exuding an acrid smell. I could hear a brisk, measured step behind me, accompanied by the swish of long robes.



The pain that had awoken me claimed my attention again, and I grimaced, waiting for the spasm in my stomach to settle. My shoulders clenched as a shudder ran through my body. My throat felt parched, and I could feel cold sweat collecting on my forehead and in the hollow of my spine.



I raised my chin slightly to examine myself, and immediately wished I hadn't. Dark spots danced in my vision as my strength gave out and my head slammed down again hard, almost enough to knock me out. I closed my eyes, willing darkness to come again and take me away from this misery. No such luck.



"Awake, I see." At this new voice, I opened my eyes. A somewhat familiar man was hovering over me, shaking his head in obvious disapproval, as though my return to consciousness had been deliberately timed to annoy him. I recognized the heavy black hair and the long nose: this was Professor Snape. One of the teachers Dumbledore had introduced to me at dinner last night. Had it only been yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime past, and when you're immortal, that's saying something.



How long had I been here? Where was Albus? I struggled to sit up, and was rewarded with another searing flash of pain and a decidedly ungentle hand shoving me back down.



"Please lie still." Professor Snape gritted his teeth, as though he'd rather be anywhere else in the world but here. "Your major wounds are healed, but you have a system full of Acromantula venom. How do you feel?"



"I feel like a Uruk-Hai has been using my head for clubbing practice." I rasped, as Snape prodded at my throat and chest. "Other than that, simply wonderful. How long have I been here?"



"You're in one of the dungeons, and you've been unconscious for more than two hours. Lie still!"



I managed to stop fidgeting as Snape finished his examination of my now-unblemished skin. Shaking his head, he moved around behind me; I rolled my eyes back in my head, wishing that I could sleep, dream of home again...and maybe never wake up. But Snape was speaking again, so I refocused my attention on his voice.



"...have remarkable regenerative abilities, Master Elf, but you have poison right through your blood. I'm brewing a purification potion, but I have no idea what effect it will have on you." Snape moved back into my line of vision, and I could see that he looked particularly grim. "When you arrived yesterday morning, Madam Pomfrey sent me a sample of your blood to analyse."



"I remember." I whispered, recalling how the cut's closure had shocked the healer.



"At any rate, you have a drastically different blood chemistry from any human, so I have serious doubts about the effectiveness of the potion. And I'm afraid that will leave you in rather difficult situation."



I had to admire the man's bluntness. But he had no idea I had my own tricks for dealing with poison.



There was a quick rap at the door, and I lifted my head enough to see two faces peek over the threshold. "Professor Snape?" inquired one of the boys, shaking black hair out of his face. His red-haired companion was carrying a package, which he laid carefully on the table.



"Mister Potter, Mister Weasley. What do you *want*?" Professor Snape ground out, as through he'd just hit the upper levels of his patience. The dark-haired boy took a step forward and cleared his throat.



"Madam Pomfrey sent us down with these supplies. She said she didn't know if you had enough crushed bezoar stone or phoenix tears, so she told us to bring these to you."



Snape accepted the package wordlessly, and turned his attention towards his brewing potion. I turned to the boys and rasped, "How is Albus?"



Surprised, the redhead turned towards me. "The Headmaster? He's sleeping. Madam Pomfrey says he's going to be fine."



"What about *you*?" asked the other boy. "We saw them bring you in, you looked pretty beat up. You're the Headmaster's friend, aren't you?"



"Yeah. My name is Legolas. Who are you?"



"Oh, my name's Harry. Harry Potter." The black-haired boy introduced himself, and I saw he had a curious jagged scar on his forehead. He gestured to his companion. "This is my friend, Ron Weasley. We saw you kill that spider-"



"-That was wicked cool!" interjected Ron.



"-And we saw them bring you in." Harry shot Ron a glare, then continued. "Madam Pomfrey sent you down with Professor Snape, 'cause she's got a hospital wing full of beat-up Ministry wizards on her hands."



"How charming. Listen, can you help me?" I lowered my voice, and Harry and Ron leaned forward to catch what I was saying. "My tunic is over there by the wall. On my belt, there's a little brown leather pouch. Will you bring it to me?"



"Okay." Ron obediently fetched my belt, and pried the little drawstring bag loose.



"Now," I said with a conspiratorial wink, "Please attract the attention of your rather short-tempered professor, because I'm quite afraid he'll knock me out if I say another word."



The two boys shared a grin. "Sure," Harry said agreeably, then: "Excuse me, Professor?"



Snape whirled and stalked to my side. "What? The potion is at a very critical stage, and if I ignore it, it will be ruined, and I'll have to start all over again. I *pray* this is important."



"Of course." I threw a glance towards Ron. "Will you please open that little bag?"



Ron tugged the drawstrings and emptied the contents of the pouch into his hand. About half a dozen dry, withered leaves fell into his palm. Snape picked one up and sniffed it curiously. "What is this?"



"Dried athelas leaves." I summoned a ghost of my old grin. "A very good friend of mine taught me never to leave home without them. Steep them in hot water- they'll help to counteract the poison."



Snape was running a practised thumb along the leaf's brittle stem. "Fascinating." he murmured, half to himself. "Professor Sprout would love to have a look at these..." He swept off to another corner of the room, and began to busy himself with a pot of water.



Harry and Ron were turning to leave, but I managed to raise one hand slightly. "Wait." They stopped, and looked back at me expectantly. "I need you two to stay another few moments."



"Why?" asked Harry, brow furrowed in curiosity.



'Because," I answered, "When Professor Snape finishes steeping the athelas brew, I'm going to try to heal myself. But I'm going to need your help."



"Huh?" Now the two boys looked very confused. "Do you want us to help heal you?" asked Ron uncertainly. "We can't really do that kind of magic, you'd have to get Madam Pomfrey-"



"No, no." I cut him off. "I need an outside source to help anchor me. What I'm about to do is desperate, a last resort of my people to cure a poison in the blood. Normally, you'd have a group of family members or close friends to help you, but-" I snarled as another pain-flare tore through me, tightening my shoulders and arching my back, "I'm a long way from any of those right now. Will you help me?"



"What do you want us to do?" Harry asked warily, exchanging a glance with Ron.



"Nothing much. I need you to talk to me, keep me grounded. Or even to each other. I need an external stimulus to anchor myself."



"Okay." Still wary, the boys moved away as Snape swept over, carrying a steaming pewter goblet. He eyed me as I took a sip.



"Exactly what do you intend to do, Legolas?" I admired the man's discretion, calling me Legolas, rather than Master Elf as he had before; he didn't reveal me before the still-ignorant children, and I had made sure my hair stayed quite firmly in place over my ears.



"A battlefield healing technique I picked up a few years ago." Draining the goblet, I sighed as a fresh wave of strength coursed through me. Athelas is a marvellous treatment for many ills. It helped suppress my pain while forcing the poison towards the surface, exactly as I intended. I glanced at Harry and Ron, and nodded. "Start talking."



"About what?" Harry asked, uncertain.



"Anything. Anything at all. Just start talking, and for the love of the Valar, don't stop, no matter what."



"Okay." Slightly unnerved, Harry turned to Ron. "So, have you heard the rumours about who's playing keeper for the Slytherins this year?"



"Yeah, I'd heard Millicent Bulstrode, but they haven't had a girl on their house team in years..."



I let the sounds of their voices wash over me, anchoring myself to the conscious world. Then, with a flash of athelas-fuelled strength, I shot forward, and grabbed one of my daggers from the belt Ron had left beside me. Then, before I could stop myself, I sliced a deep cut through my wrist.



Harry and Ron gasped, and Snape swore, but fixed them all with a glare. "Keep talking." I grated through gritted teeth, blood flowing from in between my clenched fingers. Maybe it was the look on my face, or the blood coursing down my hand all over the table, but they obeyed. Focussing on the sound of their voices, I forced my consciousness inward.



My own heart roared in my ears as I dove deeper into myself. What I was doing was similar to an Elven sleeping trance, with one rather large exception. I concentrated all my will on my pounding heartbeat.



Then, I stopped it.



Stillness reigned inside as my blood stopped flowing and my lungs froze. The fingers that gripped my slashed wrist went limp and nerveless, almost upsetting the pewter goblet that I'd positioned under my arm. Knowing I had very little time before I caused permanent damage to my body, I cast my consciousness about, looking for the poison.



It was everywhere, a swarming black miasma in my veins. The athelas brew had helped isolate it from my now-motionless blood, as I had hoped. Then, I focussed all my will on *forcing* the vile poison out of my body.



Through the slash in my wrist, one oily black drop fell with a quick *plip* into the empty goblet that had held the athelas brew. Then another. Soon, a thin rivulet of the evil black poison was running down my wrist, dribbling into the cup.



Through it all, I clung to the sound of Harry and Ron's panicked voices. The words flowed through me, meaningless jabbering that was frequently joined by a high, unfamiliar sound. When I was certain my blood was purged of every last trace of the foul blackness, I latched my conscious mind to the thread of their voices, and let them draw me back to the physical world.



I was dizzily aware of my heart beating once more, of Snape wrapping my wrist tightly as the blood flowed anew. Harry and Ron were staring at me, still talking nervously, and I realized the room still echoed with the sound of screams. *My* screams.



Then I collapsed, eyes wide open, into an Elvish sleeping trance.



**********



It seemed an eternity later when I became aware of the outside world once more. I came awake sputtering as someone poured what felt like liquid fire into my mouth.



"There," Snape stepped back with a grim smile. "That should do you some good."



Swallowing, I felt my eyes widen as a rush of strength poured through my limbs and into my brain, banishing the last of the poison-related weakness. "Wow." I blinked, flexing stiff muscles, "What *was* that?"



"*That* was the last of your athelas leaves, brewed together with an extremely highly concentrated extract of cola nuts." He smiled thinly. "Pure caffeine."



The two boys had moved off to one corner of the room. When he saw I was awake, however, Harry grinned and tossed me my shirt and tunic. "Thanks," I called as I caught them. I busied myself with pulling my shirt over my head. "How long was I out?"



"About ten minutes." replied Snape. "You were breathing, but you didn't respond to any stimuli..."



"And my eyes were wide open." I finished for him, and began to lace up the shirt. "Don't worry, that's just part of my normal sleep pattern."



"You sleep with your eyes open?" Ron was eyeing me in confusion again.



I simply nodded, too tired to think of an explanation to satisfy the boy's curiosity. Doubtless he would come up with his own reason.



Done with the shirt, I hauled on my tunic, nearly upsetting the pewter goblet full of oily black venom that still rested on the table. I grabbed it, carefully handing it to Snape, who took it equally cautiously. "Be careful with it," I whispered, making sure Harry and Ron didn't hear. "That's enough poison to kill about ten humans."



Gently tugging at the improvised bandage on my wrist, I smiled when I saw the cut had healed, skin smooth as though it had never been slashed. I tossed the bloody cloth on the table behind me.



I turned to the two boys then, who would have been well within their rights to be scared to death of me. "Thank you," I said sincerely, "You two helped more than you know."



"Don't worry about it..." Harry trailed off, and I saw his eyes flick upward, from my wrist to my face. "Hey, what's wrong with your ears?"



Oh crap.



Too late, I realized I'd unconsciously pushed my hair back behind my ears as I'd dressed. Now, they were there for Harry and Ron to see, in all their pointed glory. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Snape stiffen.



I wished for a distraction, anything; an earthquake, a hoard of orcs, a Balrog...well, I got my wish, because a distraction came walking right through the door.



"Harry Potter, sir?"



My head snapped towards the even, melodious voice. The speaker was trying to suppress a quaver, but he couldn't disguise the smooth modulation of his tone.



A figure stood framed in the doorway, a leanly muscled young man, naked but for a blanket wrapped over his shoulders and around his waist, and a pair of wildly mismatched socks.



Slowly, I drew my gaze over his body towards his face, trying to kill the hope that sprang to my heart. Slender build, long, chestnut-brown hair that hung in tangles over his shoulders, tucked haphazardly behind...pointed ears.



I locked my eyes with his, stormy blue with vivid green, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.



Green eyes.



The elf from my dream.



He broke contact with me, gasping. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, as though to shut out the world, I heard him groan.



"Dobby's in a lot of trouble!"





To be continued...when Legolas' presence in this world is finally explained, can the elves save themselves from the humans who would subjugate them once again? And, exactly how drunk can Winky get? Tune in next week for the exciting adventures of A Mirkwood Elf in Dumbledore's Court!