Sorry this chapter took so long to upload. I'd like to thank my new beta reader Tessa J Love you lots J Also I'd like you to visit libraryofmora.com, a huge LOTR slash archive with every pairing imaginable, it also has a huge selection of f/f slash and amazing fanart. If you haven't been there you have to go. Blah I'm still mad at ff.net for taking down the real people catagories because I love RPS, I always have, infact I write that more than FPS…oh well. I'm partial to the SB/OB pairing, DM/EW pairing…but you cant not love bb/dm…I dunno I like other ones but I can't think of them right now. Anyways, here's chapter three

With a small groan Legolas finally found himself face up on the bed, its pillows cushioning his back and legs. The mere effort to move had been exhausting and he would not have done so, save that the Lady Eowyn had asked it of him.
Closing his eyes he made an attempt to ward off the vagueness and dizziness with which he now saw his surroundings. The thought that the injury was perhaps worse than he had first guessed tugged at his mind but he willed it back. Diligently he pressed the cloth to his side, knowing that there was a fair amount of blood, much more than there had been before and that the mattress was now permanently stained.

He had been taught and had seen first hand that the people of his race heal faster than all others and that had been one of the many reasons he had hidden his injuries, confident that they would take care of themselves. Secretly he relished the fact that Eowyn had seen them, it gave cause for them to be alone, to have a conversation.

Why could he not have loved someone of his own kind? Why did he have to love a mortal, and after such little time? What would his father say if he learned that his son had come to love a wild shield maiden of Rohan? Though Legolas knew there was nothing uncivilized about the white Lady. He felt he understood Arwen's struggle with more clarity than he had before the quest. Aragorn was a valiant warrior, a healer, loyal to those he loved and very generous among many other things yet Legolas and others of the first born had trouble comprehending how the daughter of Elrond could fall for a mortal man no matter his worth, were men not weak? Now Legolas understood, the thought of leaving Eowyn brought great pain to the Elven Prince. Yet he knew they would never be, she was clearly taken with Aragorn, all who saw her knew this.

With a groan he lay still, trying to banish all thoughts from his troubled mind, desperately desiring to wait in peace for her return.
He did not have to wait long. He heard her enter the room, the small click when she turned the handle and the groaning of the hinges when she pushed the door open. Erasing all emotion from his face he opened his eyes and was startled to discover she had already crossed the room and now stood before him. How had he not heard her?

Beneath her arm she had tucked a small bowl, needle and thread and a parcel of bandages.

"You need not worry, no one knows you are hurt." She said softly.

The mattress sank under her weight as she sat and began to lay everything out. There was a methodical aspect to her actions; every movement was deliberate and calculated. Legolas was fascinated. From a pocket in her apron she withdrew a small bundle of herbs, none of which Legolas recognized. He watched her behaviour with interest, aware that she knew he was doing so and yet he was unable to stop himself.

She filled the small bowl with water and dropped a portion of the plants therein before glancing at the Prince's side. He could see the concern shining in her pale blue eyes and felt slight warmth knowing that the concern was for him. Taking the cloth from him she dipped it into the pitcher and began to dab at the wound. Instantly pain assailed him yet he bit his tongue, happy that she was so close to him, touching him even. He let his eyes close once more, confident in the fact that she knew exactly what she was doing and slowly the pain diminished.

" These plants both disinfectant and relieve pain." She said.

He nodded. So that is why she had put the plants and water together. He knew from the strong aroma that she was now washing his side with that instead of water from the pitcher.
When her ministrations ceased he looked up at her masking any and all disappointment he felt. He noticed she was now bathing the needle in the concoction of plant and water and immediately knew her intentions but when she spoke he did not interrupt or make any sign that he did know. He merely longed for the sound of her voice.

" The wound is deep and will not heal properly unless sewn together." He was silent and she continued. " You'll need to lie on your side."

Slowly Legolas began to shift positions, biting down on his lip hard to hide any pain the action caused him. Pleasantly surprised was he when a pair of pale slender hands rested on his back and stomach steadying him in his task. Her palms were not smooth, they bore the calluses from her sword training and riding. He knew she was well versed in all battle. This pleased and excited him immensely.

" Would you like to bite onto something?" The question was abrupt and he sensed nervousness in her. It puzzled him.

" No." Legolas was swift to answer her and looked away, eyes falling to the needle, which had already been threaded.

Casting his gaze from the wound he focused on a tapestry, which hung on the wall. It was of course a tapestry of a war victory. Legolas began the task of dissecting colours and images, bending his mind towards it to steel himself against the pain. With his keen sight he could easily see the subtle differences of gold thread used for the rider's hair, the different blues that had been used for their eyes when to someone else it looked all the same. He held himself as still as possible biting back a hiss of pain when the needle first punctured his skin.

" How did you manage to be hit?" She asked noting the obvious discomfort she was causing.

" An Uruk…once the wall was breached they managed to climb onto the wall, we were outnumbered and one managed to strike me when my back was turned."

Eowyn nodded as she listened, eyes occasionally straying to figure beside her. She had not thought it possible for a male to be as beautiful as the one before her. Whereas Aragorn was handsome and regal, Legolas was graceful and feline yet decidedly masculine. She shook her head slightly and then looked back to her work.

" Is something the matter?"

" Nay." Eowyn answered with a small shake of her head. "I should be the one who asks you such questions. Are all elves as stubborn?"

" Stubborn?" Legolas nearly snorted but stopped himself. Now that would be dignified, snorting in front of the beautiful lady of Rohan.

" Yes stubborn, I have tended to several of your people and they were most adamant that an Elven healer should be present yet none could be found, they would not listen until Aragorn presented himself and assured them I was very capable." Legolas nodded slowly.

Though he loved his friend dearly he felt a pang of jealousy. Aragorn seemed a jack-of-all-trades able to do the impossible and drew much love and many admirers.

" Well sometimes…much to my regret as it were my kin act superior…" He sighed glancing back at her.

The sight of his once flawless skin red, angry and swollen disturbed him and upset him all the more that Eowyn had to see him in this painful and weakened condition. It upset him that Eowyn did not see him at his best. Yes he was vain in a way; he knew it to be so yet he accepted to fact as a characteristic of his people. He felt the dirt that clung to his skin; saw the straggling strands of once brilliant hair, resting limply against the pillow. He felt selfish for caring about his appearance but it annoyed him that he could do nothing for it.

" Ah…once again, thine face seems troubled…I am curious as to your thoughts, I have not had a chance such as this to talk to one of Elven kind." Eowyn said meeting the prince's gaze momentarily. Blue clashed with blue and suddenly both looked away, the woman delicately threading the string as painlessly as she could.

" I am almost done your highness." She said though there was no happiness in her voice.

Legolas noticed that she seemed rarely happy. He wondered at the thought, desiring hours, days and months, perhaps years unto which he could unravel the mystery surrounding the mortal, her joys, her sadness, her triumphs. He wished to know everything. Never had he felt such passion for someone.

' Ah, I barely felt it." He lied. Both knew but she spoke not in an effort to leave his ego undaunted.

Another minute passed and then Legolas felt the knot being tied. A breath of relief escaped his dry lips and he let his head fall forwards against the pillow.

"All I need to do is bind it with herbs and place a protective bandage and then you will be left in peace." Legolas immediately raised his head feeling shame at once more letting his weakness through before this cold woman.

" I thank you." He whispered and without meaning, continued in his native tongue, "Meleth'nin." Eowyn's eyes shot up and she regarded him quizzically. Immediately he ducked his head, realizing his mistake.

" I've not the pleasure of hearing your language apart from the cries of war, it's beautiful, what does it mean?" She asked, pressing the herbs gently against the wound. Legolas did not answer at first. Her face seemed to still. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight.

" It means my friend." He lied, after several seconds.

" Do you presume to know me so well that I am a friend?" Eowyn asked at once setting to work with the bindings. Legolas sighed.

" Are we not all allies against the same evil? Does that not make us friends?"

" When have elves found it in their hearts to befriend mere mortals?" She asked and though her tone was joking enough Legolas immediately sensed a serious undertone.

" Ah, you do not know much of elves then?" And suddenly the thought struck that he'd very much like to teach her the ways of his people.

' Ah, I know enough." She said with a gentle smile, all coldness dissipating for a flicker of time. Once more the mask was in place and Legolas sighed inwardly.

" You'll need to sit if you wish me to bandage you properly." Legolas nodded and began to push himself up, with less grace and poise than he wished. A soft grunt managed to escape through a fresh flare of pain. Eowyn said nothing and set to wrapping the thick white linen bandage around Legolas' chest. The pressure of the cloth felt good though Legolas could not think of why.

" I did not know you were such a skilled healer." He said while she fastened a pin of sorts to hold it together.

" Ah, I am many things; Prince of Mirkwood. Now I am finished and I would strongly suggest that you rest while you can." Legolas nodded slowly and began to inch his way back against the pillows.

Without thinking Eowyn was at his side, arranging them behind his back and drawing the covers over him. Legolas smiled softly at her and as though realizing what she had been doing was wrong somehow, she took a step back.

" Well I will send someone to check your wound tomorrow." And without another word she left the room.

Heeding the lady's advice Legolas let his head fall back against the soft cushions and his eyes became vacant almost instantly.



* * * *

" You understand I have only agreed to retire to our chambers out of courtesy for those who are ill. You were making such a racket I thought perhaps we would be thrown out." Aragorn said tiredly to the figure beside him. Gimli snorted indignantly.

" And I am worried about Legolas but for those two reasons I would still be in the sick rooms."

"Aye you would be, you would be one of the ill." Gimli answered his axe gripped loosely in his stubby hand. Aragorn rolled his eyes and stopped before a set of massive oak doors.

" You believe what you will dwarf and I will believe what I would like to believe." Aragorn said wrapping his hand around the small golden handle and swinging the door inwards. Gimli followed him through the doorway and they paused halfway across the room.

"Ah, he's sleeping…thank the gods." Gimli sighed with relief and began to remove his boots. Aragorn however had become completely still, his eyes on the floor.

" There is blood." He whispered, gaze wandering finally to the bed. " On the floor and on the coverlet beneath which he sleeps." Gimli looked up at these words, worry clouding his features once more.

" Is he injured?" He questioned going to stand beside the human. Aragorn nodded and the pair approached the bed quietly.
The elf's face was a pallor that was unfamiliar on their friend and his brow shone with perspiration. Gimli lay a hand on Legolas' forehead.

"He's warm."

From a closer perspective the blood was more apparent, a stark contrast against the white linen sheets and green blanket. With steady hands Aragorn grasped the edge of both blanket and sheet, gently peeling them back. Both Gimli and Aragorn stared at the practically gleaming white bandages.

" But he has not visited the sick rooms, I would have known." Aragorn said softly, puzzled. As his eyes travelled lower he became aware of a large bloodstain.

" He has lost a fair amount of blood, perhaps I should wake him and examine the work done." Gimli looked as though he were about to protest but became silent.

" Look, it is the supplies Lady Eowyn came in search of earlier." He pointed at a bowl, needle and thread, which lay on the floor in front of the bed. Aragorn followed the dwarf's direction and raised an eyebrow.

" Ah then I know that he has been well tended to."