Hello again. I had free time so I decided to post the next chapter now. Enjoy.

Thranduil's eyes jerked open wide. He had thought he was dreaming, but now he was in a bed with someone sitting beside him, someone whose hand he was clutching, who was in danger of falling on the floor. By the stars it was the middle of the night. He peered at the face of his companion and vaguely recognized him. He also recalled his 'dream' in which his father, no, his son, was carrying him to bed. This elf was neither.

He rolled his eyes reflectively. He'd work out the mystery when the sun came up. In the meantime, he would give his comforter room to lay down. He cautiously slid over and managed somehow to pull the other elf as well without waking him. Comfortable again, the king slid back into dreams.

~+~

Elorien glided peacefully to wakefulness with the rising of Anor. He was in a bed that wasn't his for some reason. He stared around without moving and then caught sight of Thranduil, sitting in a chair beside the bed. He blinked.

"Good morning, youngling. Care to tell me about last night?"

Elorien blinked again. Memory rushed back to him. "Well, it's like this, Your Majesty, Aragorn told me to keep an eye on Legolas, and well on you so I was worried because you always seem tired since he left so I followed you to make sure you were all right and you didn't seem to be so I put you in this bed and you thought I was someone else so I decided to stay but I was sitting up and…" He ran out of words.

"Thranduil chuckled. "You aren't in trouble. So that 'Man' told you to look out for me? He's got guts and so do you. I thank you." He stared out the window, leaving Elorien in utter shock.

Until just recently he had thought the king heartless. His perceptions were changing, though. Now he truly saw the father in Thranduil. He hadn't had a father himself, for he had died before Elorien was old enough to remember. He wondered if his father would have been like this, and blinked back tears.

Thranduil turned back to him. "Your name was…El…? I'm sorry, every time I try to remember, I think of Elrond and his twin sons."

"Elorien, sir. I'm a scout."

"Ah, yes. I remember. Raised by your mother, I believe."

Elorien nodded and looked down, tears starting again. *I wish I had a father like you* he thought, not realizing he said the words aloud.

A hand reached out and lifted his chin. "I wish I had always been such a father." The hand brushed away the tears. "But I shall try to stand in for yours, if you wish. It will give me practice for when Legolas returns." Thranduil smiled sadly. "Come, ion nin, let us eat breakfast together and discuss your brother."

~+~

Aragorn yawned as he rode into the dawn. Though his horse, Ara (so named for a plethora of ancestors), was also tired, he hadn't dared to stop because of the still present danger from the goblins. He was back in the foothills again now and decided it was safe enough to stop. He wouldn't be much use to anyone if he couldn't open his eyes. Finding a tiny spring, he practically fell off the horse.

He took one drink of water and then grabbed his bedroll to spread it out. He was almost too tired to do anything else, but he removed the saddle and bit from Ara before collapsing into his bedroll and immediately falling asleep.

~+~

Legolas almost missed the snort. He had been running without resting his legs for a very long time now, it seemed. But he had this overwhelming compulsion that he was following, plus he wanted to get as far away from his father as possible. The snort of a horse, however, broke his concentration and his legs began to ache.

Forcing himself to go over to the horse rather than just dropping to the ground where he was, he limped his way over to a rough camp. The first thing he saw was an elven bred horse. Then he noticed the sleeping man nearby. Finally he realized that the horse was not tied up, much to his amazement. Elves did not need to tie up their horses, but if a man actually managed to get hold of one, he normally had to tie it very tightly to keep it from escaping.

Legolas looked more closely at the man's face and at last recognized him. "Aragorn!" The man stirred slightly but did not awake, though it was nearly noon. Legolas knelt down beside him and pulled back the blanket. Aragorn's clothes were bloodstained from both his own blood and that of the goblins he had slain.

The prince, however, was more confused than ever. *Some magic,* he thought, *must have carried off Aragorn just as it had done me.* He shook the man who had saved his life. "Aragorn, wake up!" This time it worked and the Dunadan opened his eyes.

"Legolas?" he queried, before cutting off the rest of his words as his brain kicked into function.

"Yes, mellon nin. I'm not sure what happened but I know I was killing orcs after one of them shot you and then everything went dark. I'm afraid some black magic has torn us away and I'm seeking to return to Imladris." He watched anxiously as his friend's face twisted up. *He must be trying to remember,* Legolas thought.

~+~

Aragorn was torn between laughter and tears at the elf's words. He settled for looking thoughtful, though he was more worried than ever about the effects of the blackwater. He pushed himself up but almost fell back if Legolas hadn't grabbed him. He wasn't sure as yet if it was simple infection or poison but neither prospect was particularly welcoming, especially when his only companion was an elf with amnesia.

The main point of pain was centered on his left lower back where a blade from behind had caught him. It would be almost impossible for him to treat it by himself. Letting out a hiss of pain, he said, "Legolas, would you lend me a hand? I fear that one of the—orcs got me in a place awkward for me to tend myself." He eased the tunic up away from the spot and asked, "What does it look like?"

Legolas was silent a moment and then said, "It looks rather raw with red lines streaking out around it. I assume you wiped it off at some point because there isn't much blood. The scab is blackish, though. Oh no! Poison?"

They both groaned.

Finally Aragorn said, "Is your knife clean, my friend?"

Legolas drew both daggers, but to his dismay, both looked somewhat worse for the wear.

"What about one of your arrows, then?"

The archer pulled all of them out and was relieved to find a few that had never been used. The rest had all been retrieved from the body of some foe. These arrows he only used on the enemy. He had a different quiver for hunting food. Those arrows he always kept meticulously clean so as not to taint the meat.

Putting most of them back, he took the three good ones and searched through Aragorn's pack for the cooking pot he was sure would be there. He set the three arrows into it momentarily while he started a fire. Then he held the shafts in his mouth as he rinsed the pot a few times before filling it with water, which he set to boil. At the man's instructions, he got out a bowl and filled it with water as well before bringing it to the healer. Aragorn pulled out of his herb pouch an Athelas leaf, which he breathed on before dropping it into the water. He wasn't fond of doing field surgery on himself but at least he had the right tools, mostly. He had no thread and needle and cursed himself silently as he remembered. Not that he was capable of sewing himself up at such an angle anyway, and he was doubtful that Legolas would have been up to the task in any case.

The water began boiling in fairly short order, and the prince stuck the head of one of his arrows into it, holding it by the shaft. When he figured it had been sanitized well enough, he brought it over to where the man was waiting. "Do you have anything to bite down on," he asked.

Aragorn grabbed the corner of his blanket and set it between his teeth. Then he nodded to the elf. There was a sharp pain as Legolas drew the hot arrowhead along the line of the infected cut, and he ground his teeth.

~+~

Legolas hated causing pain in such a way, but knew it had to be done. Though he had only known the man for a few hours total, (the time together in Imladris plus the time since he had found Aragorn again. The time the cursed magic separated them didn't count) he had spent a great deal of time on his long run reliving the moment that Aragorn dove in front of the arrow meant for him. He assumed that some of the blood on the man's clothes was from that and that he had managed to bind it himself.

He grimaced as he opened the infected wound and followed the instructions Aragorn had given him earlier, using a clean bandage dipped in Athelas water to flush out the poison and then push more blood to the surface to get out more. Then he added more herbs to the water and swirled it around.

Aragorn was lying on his stomach, so Legolas gently tilted the bowl so that the healing water could counter the poison cum infection. When all that was left was soggy herbs, he dumped them on another bandage and tied that section directly over the long cut, not pausing when his patient shuddered convulsively.

Then he asked, "Do you need me to check the arrow wound?"

Aragorn shook his head. "No, it is well bound and healing. It missed anything vital, thank Iluvatar."

Legolas didn't insist. He was rather uncomfortable touching other people in any way so he was glad not to though he knew he owed him his life. Then he realized that he had not yet thanked him. "Thank you for saving my life back there. I have never before seen such a brave act." For a moment he had a sense of déjà vu but it swiftly passed. "We shall rest here, I think, until your pain has passed."

As the man did so, the elf went to toss the soiled cloth into the fire and then keep watch.

~+~

Elrond paced the floor, biting his lip nervously. Elladan had found the two herbs that grew in Rivendell and both were in various stages of distillation. However, he still awaited the arrival of the last essential ingredient plus the patient. He also wondered where Aragorn was.

Having healed him so many times in addition to raising him as a son, he had a weak magical bond with the man. Unfortunately, its only use at such distance was to tell him that the man was alive. Within the bounds of Rivendell, he could also occasionally sense strong emotion if he concentrated but now he could only hope that the man, though alive now, would remain that way as he made his way home.