A Safe Haven…Too Late?

Disclaimer: I own nothing (sadly) that has to do with the Lord of the Rings, except the plot line. Duh.

To all my reviewers: thanx so much. i cant answer all of you personally because my mean parental entities wont let me on the Internetthrows mean look at the smug looking ones previously mentioned but i love you all and wont include slash since a lot of people did not like that idea. for those of you who did, maybe i'll do a story especially for you guys.

Enjoy!!!


Legolas was near collapse. He had traveled nonstop for nearly four days before he caught sight of Rivendell. During that time, Aragorn seemed to slowly worsen. His breathing became harsher and it took more of an effort for him to get any air at all. Legolas' condition was also not ideal. He felt unusually weak and light headed. It was hard for him to concentrate on anything for long, and he knew why. During one of the calmer nights, the Elf had inspected the gash in his arm and found traces of the poison that was now devouring Aragorn from the inside out. Yet he had ignored it. To him, the young Ranger's welfare was more important than his own. Aragorn might see differently, but he was not in a state to give his opinion at the moment. And besides, the prince of Mirkwood couldn't care less if his friend had a death wish. He wouldn't let him die.

Bursting through the gates and almost knocking one of the guards off his feet, Legolas did not waste time to even slow his horse before hopping off, Aragorn in his arms, taking a deep breath and using more of his strength, he gave of loud yell.

"LORD ELROND!!!!!" the elf hollered. He saw the lord of Rivendell and his twin son's run around a bend and start for him. Getting to him in almost inelven time, they all started to talk at once, but Lord Elrond quickly took control of the dialogue.

"What happened?" the elven ruler said tersely as he examined the two travelers.

"We were ambushed by Orcs. They had poisoned they're arrows." Legolas said, trying to fight off Elladan and Elrohir at the same time. He was reluctant to trust Aragorn into even their able care.

"Legolas, let him go. You can do no more for him. Let us take over now." Elladan said soothingly. Slowly and reluctantly, the tired and hurting elf released his friend and with out a second to spare, promptly passed out.

Lord Elrond pursed his lips as he examined his two new patients. He knew the poison that was eating away at his son and knew that the athelas the prince of Mirkwood had put on the wound was a big help. His son would not die. It was Legolas he was worried about. Not all the blood on him was the human's and the older elf knew how Legolas would put his friends welfare before his own. And the poison needed to be treated within two hours of receiving it to be effective.

"Take them to the healing ward." He ordered the twins, "And make haste. We have a lot of work to do


Elladan gently laid his human brother on the bed as though he were made of glass. Elrohir had entered the healing ward right behind him, carrying Legolas. The blond elf was laid on a bed several cots down from Aragorn's and made comfortable, for his wound was not serious and he had most likely past out from exhaustion. Elrond was the last to come in, and the elf lord immediately rushed over to Estel. Tearing away his tunic, Elrond winced at the arrow wound and the obvious sign of poison. Ordering Elladan to fetch him a pitcher of water, the lord of Imladris ran his fingers along the edge of the wound, his fingers picking up some of the green liquid. Lifting it to his nose and sniffing, he scowled.

"A poison made from the moryávë," Elrond muttered. Moryávë meant "dark flower" and it was aptly named. Almost black in color, it had a horrible stench and the nectar was fatal to humans and elves, if the remedy was not administrated in time. Not knowing for certain how long ago his son had received this wound, but being able to guess by the amount of crusted blood around it and the sign of infection. Judging by this, the wound would have been rendered about three to four days ago. But that was impossible! The poison took two days before it caused the lungs to start shutting down and for the antidote to become ineffective. How was the mortal only on stage three out of nine: chills and difficulty breathing? 'Legolas...' Elrond thought, 'Legolas must have done something. Athelas most likely. And that slows the poison!' Thanking the Valar for this stroke of luck, the ancient elf set to work healing his son.


Hours later, the healer stepped back from the bed, tired and dirty. Blood from the arrow wound covered his hands and the smell of the herb, galadyávë, which he had used to counteract the venom, was starting to smell sickly. But the good news was that Aragorn would survive. He might not be totally out of the woods, but he would live to see the next morning. Deciding that now was the time to check on Legolas, he walked over to the prone elf. Reaching the bedside, Elrond picked up the elf's hand and gasped. It was ice cold. Putting a delicate ear to Legolas' chest, his worst fears were realized when he heard a deep, nasty rasping.

"No..." he whispered, horrified at the fate that had labeled itself's Legolas'. "No, no, no, no, no!" Elladan and Elrohir looked up from cleaning up supplies to glance at their father.

"What troubles you, ada?" Elrohir asked worriedly. Elrond looked up, startled, and a calm mask slid into place.

"Nothing that you should worry yourself over, ion nin. I was just thinking out loud." Elrohir frowned, but his twin touched his arm, shaking his head slightly. It was not good to interfere with their father when he was in a mood. Humphing, the younger twin went back to work. With one last glance to see that Legolas would not die as soon as he left, Elrond wasted no time in sweeping out of the hall to go see if it was possible to save the Mirkwood prince from this dreadful fate, leaving behind to confused sons and a sickly elf.


A/N: this is kinda short but I promise I'll make up for it in the next chapter. Laters!