Annore stared wordlessly out of his window into the bleak night. Worti appeared at his side, his eyes scanning the forest. "She is gone then," He stated disdainfully, his eyes full of scorn. Annore didn't look at him but murmured quietly, "I can't believe they came back."

"I don't know why they did," Worti agreed scornfully, misunderstanding his master. Annore glanced up mildly. He hadn't expected better from the man.

"Leave us, Worti." The human ordered softly, his eyes locked in the distance as he crossed his arms. Worti glanced up surprised. "My lord?" he asked questioningly, miffed at being sent away so rudely. He was, afterall, second in command in the town. Annore raised one eyebrow and shot him a lethal look. "I said, leave us."

With a disgusted look that he thought Annore couldn't see, though the human could actually see Worti's reflection in the window, Worti nodded. "As you wish," he answered tightly. With a bow, he quickly exited the tiny cabin, muttering to himself.

Faro, cowered in the corner, waited for the scolding to start. But Annore remained at the window, and slowly, daringly, Faro eased next to him.

He had watched them disappear into the forest quietly, without moving a muscle. Faro had waited for his Uncle to exploded, but he never did. "Is she going home, Uncle?" the little boy had ventured in a whisper as Krystal was carried into the shadows - fighting all the way.

Annore had smiled softly. "I don't know where she's going, Faro. But I hope its home."

Faro had glanced up apprehensively. "Are you not angry with me, Uncle?"

Annore paused, then affectionately rested his hand on his nephew's head, ruffling his hair slightly. "No, Faro. I am not angry with you, not at all. I'm slightly proud of you, actually."

Faro's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open faintly before snapping it shut in respect. "Proud, Uncle?"

Annore chuckled and cast his nephew a warm gaze before answering with a nod. "Not every 8 year old can keep a grown warrior busy enough so a captive can escape, even if it's a very slow warrior."

Faro flushed, and stumbled over his words, dragging his gaze away from Annore's. "Why, Uncle, I do not know what you speak of--"

Annore chuckled lightly once more. "Peace, sister-son. You have done well. One day, I think perhaps you shall make an excellent master of our village."

Faro stared at him in shock, his voice wavering, his mouth once again dropping open. "Me, uncle?"

Annore cuffed the boy lightly on the head and smirked. "Shut your mouth, boy. Unless you want the flies to join you for a visit."

The last shadows of Krystal's rescuers faded into the forest, and Faro glanced up. "Will she ever come back, uncle?"

Annore glanced down, surprised, before pausing. Bending down and scooping the little by into his arms, he glanced out one last time, before turning away and pulling the curtains closed.

"I don't suppose so, little one. But we'll remember the lesson she taught us, won't we?"

Faro glanced at his uncle in confusion. "What lesson?"

Annore frowned jokingly. "Surely one as smart as you can figure this one out, future Master of the village," he teased mockingly.

Faro scrunched his face up in thought, then his face light up.

"Learn how to tie your shoes *before* you go on guard with captives?" He proclaimed excitedly, his eyes bright.

Annore burst out laughing and eventually nodded. "Exactly."

-------

Aragorn eyed his brother warily and urged his horse besides her. "Is she asleep?" he mouthed silently, stifling a grin at his brother's awkward position. For the first hour of their ride towards Rivendell, Krystal had sat stiffly; her muscles jarring with every halting step the horses took. She tried to hide her winces and bit her lips to keep her cries at bay. But gradually, her shoulders began to slump, and her eyes began to shut softly. Now, she was leaning against Elrohir without reservation, her head tucked softly in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply. Elrohir, for his part, looked about 50% in awe that she was actually letting him hold her, despite the fact she was asleep, and 50% locked in firm concentration keeping the ride smooth.

Elrohir glanced down at her before nodding. "I believe so," he whispered.

The ride was quiet, except for the quiet chirp of crickets and scamper of the animal wildlife of night. The crunch of leaves under the horses hooves was masked by the soft sighing of the trees.

Suddenly, Krystal tossed her head roughly, smacking Elrohir directly in the nose as she swung her head around abruptly.

The elf grimaced and ducked out of the way, a hand raising to his nose as he silenced a groan. Legolas, glancing behind him, chuckled at the sight of the disgruntled twin, but sent a worried glance at Krystal. The girl had begun to shiver unbearably, her head shaking and her eyes cringing spasmodically.

"Is she alright?" Elladan asked, alarmed. Elrohir clutched her tighter, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her closer. "I don't know," he answered frowning. He reined his horse in softly as her shivers became more violent.

"I think she's having a nightmare," Aragorn observed with alarm. Legolas glanced at him. "I've never seen such a violent nightmare, Aragorn."

The elven prince furrowed his brows as he thought back of Annore's list of her injuries. Perhaps there was something in her system that was causing her to act so?

"Should we wake her?" Elladan asked anxiously, as they watched her teeth begin to chatter. "Here, take my cloak." Legolas offered while he continued to review Annore's speech. He tossed it to Elrohir, who wrapped it around the girl along with his own, but if anything, her shivering increased.

"Dismount," Aragorn ordered uneasily. "Lay her down straight so she can breath properly, or something - but I still think it's an nightmare."

"Perhaps," Elrohir muttered through gritted teeth as he handed the shaking girl off to his brother. "Perhaps it's a fever-induced nightmare."

Fever? Legolas struggled to remember what he knew of fevers from his dealings with Aragorn. Usually, they could be brought about for no reason whatsoever..but sometimes..

"Infection!" Legolas burst out slowly. "Annore said her thigh was infection, but they didn't have the proper medication to heal it..the infection must be spreading."

Elladan glanced up. "What should we do?"

Unconciously, Elrohir's gaze wavered to Aragorn. All of the son's of Elrond were skilled in the art of healing, but Aragorn more so. Perhaps it was in his genes.

"Athleas." Aragorn murmured. "Kingsfoil. It may ease the pain. Annore claimed there was enough to medication in her to last her the night. We should find the plant and then hurry."

Legolas nodded. "Right - what does it look like again?"

Aragorn scowled. "When a wood elf asks a human to describe a plant, 'tis a sad day for Middle Earth indeed."

Legolas rolled eyes. "Not now, Aragorn."

"Touché.."

"It has white flowers," Elladan put in impatiently. "It's a weed."

Quickly, Aragorn managed to find some by the light of the moon. Crumpling up the tiny plant, and taking out his dagger, he slashed through her leggings to her thigh. The wound was jagged, but round in shape, and blood and other poisonous liquids still slowly oozed out of it. The skin around it was unnaturally hot and red, and feeling her head, Elrohir unnecessarily declared quietly, "She has a fever."

Biting down on the athleas, he softly lined her wound with in. Crumpling more, he muttered a few words under his breath, and the sweet smell of the plant filled the air and gradually, Krystal's shivering ceased, but her jerking around did not. Tears began to leak out of her eyes, and still asleep, she raised her hands to her eyes, muttering indistinct words.

Raising a hand to her forehead, Aragorn frowned. "Her fever's receding, but it's still high. She's caught in a nightmare now."

"Shall we wake her?" Legolas asked anxiously. Aragorn looked pained, but shook his head, his eyes still on Krystal. Her head was in Elrohir's lap, their cloaks still wrapped around her, but her shivering had reduced a bit. Tears, however, still spilled from her eyes. "If we wake her now, we'll scare her even more..she has to come out of this on her own."

Elladan sighed, frustrated then said," Let us mount again. The sooner we arrive home, the better."

Elrohir frowned. "Are you sure it's wise to stir her?"

Aragorn frowned. "We have no choice."

"It shouldn't hurt her, if she is only in a nightmare." Legolas offered hopefully.

"Help me, Elladan." Elrohir said quietly, gently easing Krystal off his lap. His twin rushed over to hold the shaking girl, and Elrohir mounted the waiting black horse and quickly opened his arms to take Krystal back. Elladan hesitated, and then gently hoisted her into his brother's waiting arms. Aragorn, stuffing the athleas in his pockets, rushed to hop on his horse. Within minutes, they were back on their trail, this time with frantic determination. Yet still, Krystal cried.

Soon, her whispered words of fear became audible to all, and Elladan closed his eyes s his heart wrenched. Legolas glanced back repeatedly, willing her to wake out of a painful nightmare - he wasn't sure who this affair was hurting worse, her rescuers or Krystal. Elrohir just continued to hold her close.

"No.." she murmured over parched lips. "Please, don't..go. Please."

Reaching in his pack, Aragorn tossed his brother a canteen full of water. "Give her this," he urged.

The elf tried to get her to drink it as best she could, and slowly, she managed to swallow half of it before a violent spurt of coughing shook her, and then her steady stream of words continued.

"Alone..not..please..."

Her words didn't make a lot of sense, but they still tugged at their consciences.

She jerked in and out Elrohir's embrace for several long minutes. Rivendell was drawing closer, but it was still almost two hours away when Elladan exclaimed angrily, "I can't take much more of this! We have to do *something!*"

"Any brilliant ideas?" Legolas snapped frustrated. "We can do nothing but hurry.."

"And pray." Elrohir filled in softly.

Legolas shot him a surprised glance before nodding softly, his eyes suddenly filled with sympathy. It had been rumored that the sons of Elrond no longer prayed after what had happened to their mother - clearly that was untrue. "Yes..and pray."

"Aragorn, you've had a lot of nightmares before--"

The young ranger rolled his eyes at his eldest brother. "When I was *young*." The edan put in doggedly. Elladan ignored him.

"What eased your mind during your nightmares?"

The human furrowed his brow and sighed. "My nightmares were seldom fever induced but--"

"Yes?" Legolas prompted impatiently.

"Ada used to..well sing to me to ease my nightmares." The tall, proud, gritty man admitted, and Legolas smirked to think this tall, leader of men ever had nightmares, but he knew it was true.

Elladan nodded. "Yes, I remember that. Should we sing?"

Elrohir's face was drawn as more tears poured out of Krystal's eyes. Her face remained bleakly impassive, despite the river of sadness flowing down her cheeks and her erratic jerking. "At this point, we've naught left to do." He said wearily.

"Anyone know any good songs?" Legolas asked in agreement.

Uneasy silence followed, and Elrohir raised exaspered brows. "We're *elves* for Valar's sake! If we cannot come up with a soothing song, we might as well forsake the name!"

Aragorn glanced towards the stars. "Ahem."

Elladan waved a hand, but smiled. "Your practically an elf, young edan."

The ranger's jaw tightened but he said nothing. In Elrohir's arms, Krystal tensed and cried out in pain as his horse sidestepped to avoid a shadow of a tree. Legolas sighed. "Useless," he muttered, before he opened his mouth and with a sideways glance towards the stars, began to sing.

"Upon the hearth the fire is red,

Beneath the roof there is a bed;

But not yet weary are our feet,

Still round the corner we may meet

A sudden tree or standing stone

That none have seen but we alone.

Tree and flower, leaf and grass,

Let them pass! Let them pass!

Hill and water under sky,

Pass them by! Pass them by!"

Elladan studied Krystal as Legolas's sweet tenor voice filled the air. Slowly, her inconsistent trembling began to cease and her tears gently finished their downward rush. Aragorn slowly joined in, his deep voice quietly adding depth to the cheerful song.

"Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,

Let them go! Let them go!

Sand and stone and pool and dell,

Fare you well! Fare you well!"

The twins determinedly kept their gazes on the sleeping girl, letting their horses choose their own path. After all, the animals knew where they were going. A tiny gleam of light found it's way to Elrohir's eye, and glancing up, he saw the sun beginning to rise, peaking over the trees in her own unhurried fashion. Her weak light played glint of the daggers and the sparkles of the buttons on their cloaks, reflecting and shining weak light in the forest. Legolas, raising his eyes during song, felt a smile play at his lips as his eyes caught something on the horizon. There, in the distance - maybe another hour away, Rivendell lay like a diamond among rubble. The shinning haven caught in the early morning light gave off almost a blissful glow, much like that of the elves themselves, shining just on the edge of the horizon. Krystal heaved a soft sigh, and finally her nightmare faded away and they could tell by her steady breathing she was only sleeping.

"Home is behind, the world ahead,

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadows to the edge of night,

Until the stars are all alight.

Then world behind and home ahead,

We'll wander back to home and bed.

Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,

Away shall fade! Away shall fade!

Fire and lamp and meat and bread,

And then to bed! And then to bed!"

Elrohir chuckled. "To bed, indeed." He agreed as the last strains of the song died out. " I think we shall all need a good rest when we reach Rivendell."

Legolas managed to grin. "I fear that may be impossible, Elrohir."

The elder elf glanced at the Prince. "Why?" But Elladan nodded and Aragorn sighed and explained.

"If you think we receive a lecture *last* time, Elrohir, for not bringing her home, imagine Ada's chagrin when we bring her home like *this*!"

Elrohir scowled, but shrugged. "Still," he argued, his voice growing quiet. "At least we'll be home."