Disclaimer: I own Quessetal, and nothing, and no one, else! So saddening!

A/N: I'm back from Kelowna! WHOOP! Actually I got back last week, but I had to write this before posting it, right? I'm also now kind of hooked on Shakespere, from seeing A Midsummers Night Dream down there. ^.^

I think SUHET has a new project: HALDIR LIVES t-shirts. Yes, yes! And also my assistant manager, Rubber Armed Waldorf, would like to say hello. Waldorf and I also manufacture beans and chopsticks, and we plan to take over Germania. ^.^

So here's the long awaited chapter! Without further ado, I present to you, CHAPTER 28!

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Helms Deep was caught in a glorious sadness, a net straining their triumphant joy. For though women and children would run to their battered loved ones, not all had that chance. Amidst the love and relief, there was immense loss. Many, many of the people of Rohan had been slain, and an even smaller percentage of the elves survived. Some searched the ruins desperately for an absent friend, praying that they might yet be alive; others merely knew in their hearts of death, and knelt down to weep.

Legolas knelt by an unconscious Haldir. The prince of Mirkwood had been trained to fight, not to heal; but he knew enough. He removed Haldir's armour, light though it was, knowing it would prove to be a burden for the wounded elf, and carefully lifted the tunic over Haldir's golden head. A long gash ran across his side, crimson ribbons strung out in all directions. The cut was deep, and Haldir had lost much blood during the battle. Legolas never liked the image of such things, and suppressed a shudder. Even when he was a mere elfling, the sight of blood had never been something he had taken lightly.

Legolas reached for the water and cloth. Washing away the leaking blood, he began to clean the wound.

Aragorn watched, unnoticed, from behind as Legolas tended to their friend. He watched Legolas clean the great cut so tenderly, completely disregarding the arrow in his own shoulder and wound on his arm. After the terrors Aragorn could only guess Legolas had gone through, he could still care so deeply.

Haldir began to wake. He stirred, and hissed in pain as feeling rushed back into his body.

"Hush, mellon nin, este si," Legolas soothed. Not fully awake, yet not unconscious either, Haldir relaxed somewhat at his friend's gentle voice.

A young soldier suddenly came walking briskly by, and in his rush he accidentally kicked Legolas' foot, causing the elf's hand to slip hard into Haldir's side. The wounded elf started and cried out, clasping Legolas' arm. The soldier turned at Haldir's cry. He saw Haldir's grimace, and both Aragorn and Legolas' bitter stares. Guessing accurately at what had happened, he shouted some frantic, though sincere, apologizes, and continued on his way.

Legolas turned back to Haldir. The elf's eyes were nearly shut and his breathing harsh and uneven.

{Look how you hurt him more.}

Legolas lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered, though he knew not too. Haldir grinned weakly, as if to say that is was not his fault.

"Le na m?n edhel, ernil," he whispered so softly that Legolas had to bend down to hear him.

{And yet still he thanks you. You elves puzzle me.}

Legolas went back to the wound. "Le teithgurth nino, Im úva vanwa le gurthesse," he reasoned.

But Haldir only smiled. "Arat edhel," he insisted.

Soon the elf had fallen back into unconsciousness, and Legolas had finished cleansing the wound. Reluctant to leave his friend, he rose. "Echoir úsio," he bade the elf, and turned only to meet Aragorn's stern and ever impassive eyes. He stopped.

"How does he fare?" Aragorn spoke first, glancing over Legolas' shoulder to their friend, concern evident in his voice.

"The cut has stopped bleeding, and he is out of the gravest danger now. I go to fetch bandages." Without another word, Legolas moved behind Legolas and went of seeking the bandages he spoke of. He knew he was acting coldly to Aragorn, but Haldir needed his aid now, and he wanted to bandage the wound quickly, without a risk of infection.

Legolas came upon another elf not too far off, who had a good amount alongside him. The elf had no more use of the bandages, and handed them happily off to Legolas.

"Whom do you tend to, prince Legolas?" he asked before Legolas left.

"Haldir. But worry not!" he added, dimming the initial worry on the elf's face. "He fares well."

The elf nodded, and Legolas swept back. Haldir was still unconscious, and Legolas set quickly to wrapping the cut. But the movement of his injured and poisoned arm made him wince, and as he continued, he had to bite back his cry. He felt Aragorn's gaze on his back.

"Why do you stay here, Aragorn?" Legolas wanted to be alone just this time. There was much he felt the need to repay Haldir for, and he knew that Aragorn might not understand. With another turn of the bandage, Legolas tried to suppress his cringe.

Aragorn's eyes wandered to the arrow shaft still protruding from Legolas' shoulder. "You need to get your wounds treated."

Legolas paused for a moment, then continued to wrap the bandage. "Haldir needs to be tended to."

"Aye, that he does! I care no less for him than I do for you. But," he went on, "Another healer can bandage him, it is no extraordinary skill."

Legolas laughed softly. "Should I be insulted?"

Aragorn grinned. "Perhaps. But your wounds bleed still, and I do not want them to become infected. You must get them treated."

Legolas thought for a moment how to word his thoughts. "I owe him this."

Aragorn softened. He did not know all that had happened since he had left Lothlorien, nor did he know of Legolas' faring during the battle of the past night. But somewhere amongst it, he guessed, Haldir had aided Legolas greatly. And, knowing his friend as well as he did, Legolas would not let his debt go unpaid.

"Very well."

But as Legolas went on, the bandaging became slower, and less efficient. Aragorn noticed his friend's struggle, and the pain that would occasionally cross his face. He came and knelt beside Legolas.

"At least let me finish this, if you will not let any other, and go and have your wounds treated."

"I will tend to them myself, when I am finished here." Perhaps he could let a friend, or one who knew a little at least of him, see his scars, but not these strangers. Not these strangers who would not understand.

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "The elves are graceful and can move in many ways a man cannot, but I have difficulty believing that you will easily clean that shoulder wound." He nodded at the arrow in the lower part of Legolas' shoulder. Legolas glanced back at it. He shrugged. He could, if he tried, he thought to himself. But then, it would not be that simple, and the treatment not too effective.

"At least let me treat it."

Legolas looked at Aragorn, his nimble hands still working with the bandage. Yes, he could let Aragorn see. "Alright."

There was not much more to do, but in the end, Aragorn ended up finishing wrapping Haldir's wound, as Legolas watched, frustrated, and gently cradling his arm.

They both looked at Haldir a moment, but the elf seemed at peace, and though reluctantly, Legolas followed Aragorn away. He smiled to himself, and silently thanked Aragorn for choosing to go to a quieter place. Perhaps Aragorn sensed his uneasiness, perhaps he had guessed that Legolas would likely have scars, and would be unwilling to show them. Whatever the cause, Legolas was grateful.

"Oh, wait . . ."

Aragorn turned in confusion, but didn't have to ask as Legolas called over another elf.

"Quessetal, come here a moment!" An idle elf, obviously younger and eager to be of use, jogged over. "Watch over Haldir," he instructed, pointing at the captain, "and find me when he wakens."

Quessetal stared at his leader. "What happened to him?" he asked, obviously worried. Most of Haldir's soldiers knew him well, and loved him.

"An orc blade caught his side, but he is healing quick. Worry not for him, but find me when he wakes. I shall not be far off." With that, the two turned and left.

"Who was that?"

Legolas tried to think of how to phrase it. "He is . . .a young and curious elf, whom I befriended on the march here." There was more to it than that. Quessetal was indeed young, and even more so curious. It had been his first real battle, this one, Legolas now recalled, and resolved to talk to the young one later. But on the second night of their march, the bold young elf had approached Legolas. He had been nervous about the upcoming fight, and had been asking questions and looking for advice. Legolas had offered what he could, and after, the young elf had tentatively asked if he had any scars. He had started to say no, but something stopped him. He had realized that this was his reality. This world, where scars were common. And his perhaps stood out among others, but there they were. If he could not accept that, then he would be living in a shadow forever. And so he had shown Quessetal his front and back, and the elf had stared in awe. And then he had said, "These aren't all battle wounds, are they?" It was half statement, half question. Legolas had replied with a shake of his head. The young elf knew of Legolas' capture, and looked into Legolas' sparkling blue orbs. "Did he do this to you?" Legolas nodded. And though he had despised the sorrow, and perhaps sympathy, in the elf's eyes, he could not help it. The rest of the journey, Quessetal had become a good friend to Legolas, and he was now glad that he had not been slain in the night.

Aragorn stepped behind Legolas. He had gathered more bandages, and had water and a rag to clean the wound. Legolas felt him place his hands on the arrow, waiting until Legolas was ready. Legolas took a few deep breaths, then nodded, gritting his teeth. Aragorn yanked the arrow from its place, and immediately more blood began to flow. Legolas hardly moved, practicing the art of hiding his pain. An art he had learned as a prince, and an art he had perfected in capture.

"You will have to remove your tunic, or else I will not be able to treat it properly," said Aragorn, but Legolas was already moving, already lifting the torn and bloodstained garment over his head. His golden hair swept over his slender shoulders that were still so much more fragile than they had been before Isengard. Aragorn had his eyes on the water bowl, soaking the cloth, as Legolas waited somewhat . . .what was it? Perhaps anxiously, for his friend to turn about.

Aragorn quickly soaked the cloth in the water, and turned to face Legolas.

He stopped.

There was his friend's bare back that he remembered as being so smooth and so fair. But here there were scars, so, so many scars, all over the once flawless flesh. Some were just faint but some were more solid, deeper.

"Aragorn, are you still there?" Legolas asked, knowing perfectly well that the man was right behind him, and knowing perfectly well what had stopped him. Aragorn shook himself from his trance, and moved to clean the wound. As he dabbed away, questions began forming his mind. He suddenly wanted very much to know what had happened to his friend.

The water stung a little, but any observers would never guess that. Not a muscle moved to show Legolas' agitation. He knew Aragorn would want to know things. He knew that Aragorn, like Haldir and Tirdin, would want to hear his evil tale.

Aragorn finished cleansing the cut and wiping away the spilling blood, and then bandaged it. "Now your arm."

Legolas turned around. Again, Aragorn was caught off-guard by the cruel scars over his flesh. Legolas despised the horror in Aragorn's stare, almost as much as he hated being stared at. But he merely stared in return, hard, trying to raise Aragorn's eyes and bring him back from his wonderings and thoughts.

But Aragorn came back on his own, remembering that his friend hated that kind of attention. He took Legolas' injured arm gently, but a wave of pain shot up it nonetheless. Aragorn looked at the wound for a moment. The flesh around it was a deep purple. After a little more observation, he spoke.

"This arrow was poisoned."

Legolas nodded. "Aye. I knew."

Aragorn looked up into the elf's brilliant blue orbs, deadly serious, and that little light of fear in his own darker eyes. "And yet you did not do anything about it?" Offering an apologetic and somewhat bemused smile, Legolas shook his head. Aragorn shook his head and immediately began to treat it, drawing some herbs from the pouch at his belt. "Ai, ai, my friend! You are hopeless!" he chided, and Legolas only laughed, despite the dire situation.

Aragorn put to work his advanced healing abilities, using leaves and other things to slow and stop the poison before it got too far to threaten Legolas' life. Judging by the look of the wound, and also by the fact that Legolas was still standing, the venom was not too serious, but it was poison nonetheless, and had to be treated as if it were fatal; else it might just become so.

Finally at ease as Aragorn dealt with his arm, Legolas felt the painful effects of the poison again, rushing past the barrier that had been built by adrenaline and action. He felt that it had indeed gotten far into his body, his legs aching greatly, his other wound burning again, and the pain increasing with every second. Luckily Aragorn was able to stop the poison from delving deeper, but Legolas felt himself weakening, and he only just held his passive mask and stable manner.

"Prince Legolas, Haldir has awoken."

Both man and elf jumped at the voice, for not even Legolas' extreme hearing had heard Quessetal behind them. Legolas turned first in surprise, but then laughed. "Oh, my friend, your name suits you well!" he said, and the other laughed as well, for Quessetal means "feather foot".

Legolas turned back to Aragorn, and before he could ask, Aragorn responded, "We are done here, then, and let us return to our friend." Aragorn did not miss the fact that Quessetal seemed uninterested in Legolas' unusually scarred body. Legolas slid his tunic over his head once again, and all three of them found their way back to Haldir, who was now sitting, back against the wall, and a much more conscious expression on his face.

"Ah, my friends, I see your wounds have been treated," he said happily, mostly indicating Legolas. But Aragorn's healing would still take some time to fully eliminate the poison, and Legolas sat heavily down beside Haldir, most of his body aching dearly.

He smiled quietly at his friend. "I am glad to see you awake and somewhat well again, Haldir," he said.

For some time the four remained there, chatting lively, and recounting the events of the past night. Quessetal told excitedly of his first battle among Haldir's army, and it seemed that he had indeed fought well. Legolas told of his dire situation, surrounded by the many foes, and of Haldir and Gimli's rescue, even as Gimli joined them. Aragorn too spoke light- heartedly of his affairs with Eomer son of Eomund, and with King Theoden. Gimli then spoke of his battle, and told proudly that his count was now 42. When he had asked Legolas of his faring, the elf had suddenly realized he had not been keeping track, and made up a devious lie. "Alas for you, my friend, for I have beaten you by one, with a count of 43!" And oh, how Gimli had moaned, "to be beaten by an elf!" he had said. But they had all laughed, Quessetal and Haldir both liking this particular dwarf a little more.

After some time, their merriment died down to a quiet contentment. Now they were all sitting against the wall, Legolas nearly asleep, and the others occasionally talking or just lost in their own thoughts. But they were all content in that they were alive and their faces were peaceful.

Legolas was reliving the glorious end of the battle, and suddenly remembered something.

"Excuse me, but I have some matters to attend to," he explained, rising quickly, feeling much better than before with Aragorn's healing. Aragorn also stood.

"As do I. We will see you both," he indicated Quessetal and Haldir, "ere you depart."

And so the two old friends walked away, finding that indeed they were both seeking the same person. They wandered the chambers of the place, then going outside, and stepping through the ruins of rock and life. Soon enough they found their quarry. Legolas' eyes brightened, and he ran forth.

"Mithrandir, Mithrandir!" he called out, and the wizard in white robes turned about, and a twinkle sparked in his eyes as he spotted the elf coming towards him.

"Ah, Legolas, here you are!" he said happily, as he came to a graceful and sudden halt before his wizard friend. Legolas could not deny the joy, could not fight it back, and it glowed on his every feature.

"Mithrandir! What wizardry is this, for here you are living before my very eyes!"

Gandalf laughed. "Oh, my dear elf, I believe I could ask you the same thing." He winked at Legolas, as if he knew everything, as if he knew what had become of Legolas since his fall. And how unfair that was, for Legolas knew nothing of Gandalf.

Here was Gandalf the grey, now Gandalf the white, it seemed. But Legolas had seen him fall, he had! And yet he was alive! Oh how Legolas took joy in that sight, that seemingly impossible sight, and how the delight shone on his face, such as it never had before. To have this friend, this old friend of his, dead! He had never thought he would see him again, never! But here he was, as alive as ever could be. Tears brimmed in Legolas' flaming blue eyes, though he suppressed them. He then turned to listen to the conversation now between Gandalf, Theoden, Eomer, and three other men who Legolas had not heard of. Aragorn joined them, and Gimli, having followed them in his restlessness, jogged up as well.

"And what may be the answer to your riddle?" asked Theoden, continuing their conversation.

"If you would learn that, you should come with me to Isengard," answered Gandalf. All of them there stared in shock.

"To Isengard?" cried one of the anonymous men.

"Yes," said Gandalf. "I shall return to Isengard, and those who will may come with me. There we may see strange things."

"But there are not men enough in the Mark, not if they were all gathered together and healed of wounds and weariness, to assault the stronghold of Saruman," protested Theoden. But Legolas felt that Gandalf was not going to assault. That would be a thoughtless and stupid move.

"Nevertheless to Isengard I go," persisted Gandalf. "I shall not stay there long. My way lies now eastward. Look for me in Edoras, ere the waning of the moon!"

"Nay!" said Theoden suddenly. "In the dark hour before dawn I doubted, but we will not part now. I will come with you, if that is your counsel."

Gandalf smiled, approving the decision. "I wish to speak with Saruman, as soon as may be now," he said, "and since he has done you great injury, it would be fitting if you were there. But how soon and how swiftly will you ride?"

The King thought for a moment. "My men are weary with battle," he said; "and I am weary also. For I have ridden far and slept little. Alas! My old age is not feigned nor due only to the whisperings of Wormtongue." He spat out the name. "It is an ill that no leech can wholly cure, not even Gandalf."

Then Gandalf bade those who were to come rest. They were to journey under the shadow of evening. Not many men were to accompany them, for Gandalf spoke of a parley, not a fight.

So now four remained of the Fellowship. Pippin and Merry were still lost in the wilds, and Frodo and Sam somewhere in Mordor. Though somewhat nervous about the approaching visit to Isengard, Legolas did not dwell on his worries. The four then wandered, Gandalf and Legolas speaking of where they had been, Gandalf first telling of his dark tale, and then, though reluctant at first, Legolas began to tell of his yet darker tale. Then they had stopped to wander, and sat upon small boulders, listening in horror, sorrow, and morbid fascination. This time Legolas was not bombarded with cruel and unrelenting memories. This time it was merely a story, and there was also some pride in it. Pride that he had survived, and was here, well again.

A silence passed as he finished. Aragorn was staring distractedly at Legolas' boots, lost in the story and in his thoughts. Gimli was staring in awe. And yet Gandalf seemed somewhat sad, but otherwise unaffected, and again Legolas had the suspicion that he had known all along.

Then they got up together, as if by a silent decision shared by them all. No one spoke for a while, until Gimli stumbled over a rock, and they all burst out in laughter. Life and merriment had now returned in full to Legolas' life. He walked as he always had, unhindered and unworried. And oh, how good it felt.

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Translations for elvish stuff:

Hush, mellon nin, este si: Hush, my friend, rest now.

Le na m?n edhel, ernil: You are a good elf, prince.

Le teithgurth nino, Im úva vanwa le gurthesse: You drew me from death, I will not loose you in death.

Arat edhel: Noble elf

And I think that was it for the elvish.

No, that is not the end. There are definitely more chapters to come! Oo, I guarentee you, the next chapter will be goooooooooooood. I have my devious mind already working on it. Mwahahahahaha.

Now, I have something that is not sarcastic to say. I was in Kelowna for a week, as I told you, living in paradise and having the time of my life. But then only a few days after I leave, all these fires come up there. And now with 30,000 people evacuated, it's hard to believe that only a few days before I was living in paradise. There was a picture in the paper of a hillside of beautiful houses, houses we were looking at as we zoomed past in our boat. The fire was licking away. I ask that you all pray for the people in Kelowna who have lost something to the flames.

Okay. On a bit of a happier note, here's the review responses. I also have those here from chapter 26, which came after I posted chapter 27, so here's the other chapter 26 ones first:

Peapod: Heh, I'm flattered that I'm your, hm, rebooter, shall we say, for the LOTR fics? Anyways, thanks for reviewing!

Zelda: Yes, I did like your website! Very well structured, good job! And, as for slash, I was pondering turning this into a slash (thanks to GGJ *glare *), but decided not to, as that would add a whole other subplot, and the current main plot is enough for me! Also I'd have to deal with the whole Aragorn-Arwen issue, and I hate that, so yeah. But I may be doing one in the future, we'll see. As for this fic, no worries, it will stay slash free! Though I apologize if I get a little too close around the friendship stuff. Heh.

And now chapter 27 reviews!

GGJ: I am sorry I left you, but . . .well, I left you. But yeah. Hehe. And you used my muses in your review. They are MINE! *hugs Nifien and Tirdin protectively * You little chibi thingy there is WAY too bouncy. You need to like, hit her over the head with a stapler a few times. =p

Pirate-chicha: Hehe. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be able to heed your plea for no more torture. =) That's right, you'll see in the next chapter, my friends! HAHAHAHA!

Merrylyn: Wow. Hyper child! Dude, you alone seem to have enough energy to take over, say, Hungary! You should join with me and GGJ in our world domination. Mwahahahaha. And yes, poor Legolas. There are just too many elves out there! So much hotness, so little time. *sigh * And sorry this couldn't be another insanely quick update, but maybe there'll be another in the future? NO PROMISES. Heh.

Kaimelieamin: Welcome back, Kaimelieamin the Bleached! Heh. Well, we are all good and happy that you did not disappear, and that you returned from the dead. ^.^ And yes, why would we want Legolas to be tortured . . .? *cackles evily and plots in her Plotting Corner *

HalandLeg4ever: Yes, that is one thing we would kill Peter Jackson for, right, Haldir? *Haldir nods vigorously * But we still need him, until ROTK extended is released, and THEN we can go after him. Mwahahahhaha. I can see the headlines now: "Famed director mobbed by crazed fangirls!"

Sirithiliel: Hopefully I put the right number of "i"s in your name. Heh.

Coolio02: Sorry I couldn't really update soon, but at least I updated, right?

Ankhesanamun: OH NO! YOUR FISH DIED! *bawls * Sorry, I have a thing for fish. My sister has a goldfish and we also have a 33 gallon tank, in of which are 6 catfish which I have grown quite attached to. I assure you I would fall into a fit of depression if one died. But Parksville is cool, eh? My uncle lives on the beach down there..like, seriously, it's his backyard, then the breakwater wall, then sand, then the ocean. It's AWESOME. Hm, Naneth, you say? Well, what do ya know, lucky guess for me! Heh. Thanks for your help, by the way.

Irish QT: *batts eyelashes * Why thank you! Glad to be of inspiration to you.

Lady of the Forest1: Yay, everyone loves Haldir! WHOOP! Good thing I have no Haldir-haters here . . .or at least that I know of . . .*glances around suspiciously *

Peapod: Who said I was waiting for the movie? THIS FIC NOW GOES TO BOOK VERSE! Though I will probably work in some of the spoilers I've read on ROTK. So there may be a slight change in my writing from here on in, because of constant reference to Tolkien, and also because I will have to copy out lines of dialogue now and again.

Shanya: I wonder what Tolkien would say if he saw the films? Would he approve, or be outraged, or both? Hm. Interesting.

Menthol: OH MY GOD! SOMEONE WHO LIKES NIFIEN! You must be one of the only! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! *fly tackles Menthol * But no, I'm sorry, I don't think she'll appear again.

Mrs. Isaacs: Wow. You have no idea how satisfying it was to listen to you rage on while you read it. It was the most pleasing thing I've ever read, I think. ^.^ And please tell Jason that he has my sincerest apologizes, as I did not mean to drive you out of your mind.

Well, that's all for now, folks! Until next time, please be kind and review, and remember critiques are my best friend, and always, always appreciated! School starts in a week, so unless I update this week (har har har), then it may take a while again. I'm so sorry I keep having long delays, but yeah. Really, I truly am sorry!

Toodles!

~Searcher of Souls~