That night, Thranduil took a small, private supper with his sons. Together they spoke of many things, letting the conversation turn to wherever Alandor wished, for he had many questions about Mirkwood, the home he had barely known. There was laughter and much merriment, and to Legolas' eyes, it seemed that years of care and grief had fallen from Thranduil, care and grief Legolas had not even known his father had borne. Wine flowed freely at the table, a strong and sweet liquid that went down like a pleasant fire. The talk continued far into the night, long after the food had been eaten, though the drink continued to flow.
At last as the night wore on, Legolas grew weary and took his leave, leaving Alandor and Thranduil to continue their discussion. Perhaps it was the wine that was affecting Legolas so, or perhaps it was the stress of the last few weeks spent in daily battles. Whichever it was, the young prince did not at the moment seem to care. He was in high spirits despite the fatigue that had settled over his body.
Not long after he left his father and brother, Legolas found himself at the door to his room. The moonlight flooded room beyond greeted him and he did not even bother to light the lamps about his room. He could see well enough in the moon and starlight. Quickly, he shed his tunic, placing it in a wicker basket which the maids would take to the washing area. Then he lay stretched out on top of the sheets that covered his bed and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply the scent of the rain-washed earth of the departed storm. Long moments passed in this way until he finally reopened his eyes. Something was not right. But what it was that was bothering him, he could not tell. Still, he trusted his warrior instincts, and they were screaming at him that something was amiss. In an instant, he realized that he was not alone in the room.
He rolled over on his side in one swift motion, grabbing up one of his hunting knives that he left on the small night table. He unsheathed it as he stood, tossing the covering to the bed.
"Come out," he demanded, facing the dark corner where his closet was located. A vague figure was all he could see, robed and hooded, standing silent as a statue carved in stone.
The figure made a move towards him. It made a gesture as if to show that it was unarmed, yet Legolas only gripped the hilt of the knife more firmly. Closer the figure came, hands palm outwards in a gesture of peace. Legolas stepped back cautiously, allowing the figure to enter into the more lit area of the room while maintaining reasonable distance between them. The figure's hands flew up to the hood that covered its face. The hood was thrown back quickly.
"Aragorn!" growled Legolas just before he lunged at the man.
Aragorn saw the intentions of the elf as he sprang and moved just in time to avoid being impaled by the hunting knife he bore.
"I do not wish to fight you," Aragorn said as he dodged a second attempt to be sliced open by the elf.
"No, you wish to die," said Legolas. "Why else would you have come?"
He swung wildly at the man and had his wrist grabbed for his efforts. Aragorn frowned. Was this a trick of sorts being played by the elf to catch him off guard? Or was it some secondary effect of the serum? For the elf was not as quick in his movements as Aragorn knew him to be when faced with a foe. His aim was off too. Aragorn noted to himself that under normal circumstances, Legolas could make the kill on the first try. It had to be the serum that was affecting him. Still, Aragorn was not going to go easy on his friend and knew that despite the hindering effects of the serum, Legolas was still very much capable of making the kill. And he would if he got the chance, for he was under the influence of Kyno's suggestions.
With a quick twist of Legolas' wrist, Aragorn loosened the hold on the hunting knife and took it for his own. He pointed it at Legolas, who darted to one side and grabbed up one of the twin white knives that he always wore into battle. Why he did not grab the other, Aragorn did not know, but he was glad for it. Dodging one of those blades would be challenging enough.
Legolas took a swipe at Aragorn, just barely missing the man's stomach as he jumped backwards. Now Aragorn threw the hunting knife to one side and unsheathed Anduril, for he knew he would have to fight the elf, as much as that pained him to admit. True, he had not expected anything less, but he had still hoped to avoid it. But now it was obvious that he would have to fight Legolas and subdue him in anyway possible. He struck out with his sword and the blade met Legolas' own sword, stopping its flight towards his sword arm. Legolas struck again at him, and this time the blade found a mark as it bit into Aragorn's arm. The Gondorian bit back a cry of pain as the blood began to trickle from the wound. Luckily for him though, he had been moving and the blade had caught him at a moment when it would do the least damage. Still, the man was taken aback. The sight of his blood on Legolas' sword was one that he had never expected to see.
The drawing of blood, while it shocked Aragorn, seemed only to kindle the elf's bloodlust even further. Legolas attacked again and Aragorn met his blade with his own. Now both tried to disarm the other, hoping to loosen the other's grip so that their weapon fell from their hands. Whether it was the serum's effects on Legolas or the Numenorian blood that ran in Aragorn's veins, the man found that he was holding his own against the elf, who could probably disarm him if the circumstances were normal. Still, neither seemed able to gain any sort of upper hand in the battle. Finally, in an attempt to take Legolas by surprise, Aragorn feigned a blow, dodging out of the way as Legolas' blade came dangerously close to embedding itself in his chest. With a half turn, Aragorn got behind the elf and smashed the hilt of his sword into the back of Legolas' head, hoping to knock him out. His actions had the desired effect and Legolas stumbled forward, unconscious. Dropping Andruil to the floor, Aragorn rushed forward and caught his friend before he could hit the floor. Then he carefully laid Legolas on the bed, resting his golden head upon the plush pillows and covering him with the blankets.
When Legolas was thusly arrayed on the bed, Aragorn retrieved his sword, placing it back in its sheath where it hung at his hip. Then, hovering over Legolas, he reached into the small leather pouch hanging from his belt. From it, he extracted one of the white pills to counter the effects of the serum. He brought it to the elf's lips, tugging free his wineskin filled with water at the same moment. He placed the pill inside Legolas' mouth, ready to help the unconscious form before him to swallow it.
Suddenly, Aragorn stopped, unable to go through with the deed. It was not that he felt guilty; he had no qualms about doing whatever it took to save his friend and return him to normal. But a thought had crossed the mind of Gondor's king. If Legolas were to swallow the pill, Aragorn was not sure if it would be strong enough to counter whatever serum the elven prince were to ingest the following day. He pulled the pill from the elf's mouth and instead, knelt by the bedside. His mouth was close to Legolas' ear when he spoke, his voice soft as a whisper.
"Legolas. There is something that you must do. Do not drink any wine! Ask only for water until we speak again tomorrow night, you and I. You will not remember that I came to your room this night, nor the fight, nor indeed that I shall await you in your room this same time tomorrow night. But you will come and we shall not fight. In the morning when you awake, you will take the white pill on the night stand and drink no wine!" As an afterthought, he added, "this I command you!"
Briefly, Aragorn wondered if he should leave two other pills and instruct Legolas to give them to Alandor and Thranduil, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He could not rouse any suspicion on the part of the traitors. Total surprise was the only weapon he had against them. The beginnings of a plan were starting to take shape in his mind. If his instructions to Legolas took hold and the elf did as he had been bidden, perhaps Aragorn stood a chance of saving the royal family of Mirkwood.