Night was falling, and Elrond, Aragorn, and Thranduil were still in Legolas' room.

The Rivendell elf had given Legolas different herbs than the Mirkwood healers had, taking into account that Legolas' body was inwardly reacting as a mortal's. The results were good so far; the inflammation of the elf's shoulder joint had finally started to lessen.

Elrond was relieved at that, for the likelihood of lasting damage was very real in a shoulder that had remained dislocated for so long…especially in a body that lacked its elven healing ability.

The room was very quiet; Thranduil had not spoken in nearly an hour, diligently wiping his son's forehead and face with cool water, trying desperately to bring his fever down while Elrond and Aragorn sorted through their herbs and those of the Mirkwood healers, deciding which ones would best help the elf.

Legolas remained unconscious, never moving or making a sound.

"King Thranduil?"

Thranduil looked up, at Aragorn.

"Who is Raenwe?" the human asked. "Why has he done this?"

The king sighed, wiping his son's face. "It is a very old story."

"Do you wish me to tell him?" Elrond asked, sympathetically.

Thranduil shook his head. "Raenwe was a childhood friend of mine. When Legolas was a small elfling, Raenwe's son was a new warrior in my army. He'd been one for no more than a month before being killed in an orc attack…"

"And Raenwe blames you?" Aragorn asked.

Thranduil nodded.

Aragorn sighed, irritated. "He has had millennia to realize that it was no one's fault!"

"His son died protecting me," Thranduil continued, laying the cloth on Legolas' forehead. "He took an arrow meant for me, but before I could help him, I was whisked away from the scene by some of my guards. We weren't even able to bring Raenwe his son's body…" pausing, Thranduil sighed. "The orcs made off with it."

Aragorn cringed inwardly.

"I can understand Raenwe's emotions," Thranduil went on. "If I lost my son, I would never be able to recover from the loss…"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, as everyone painfully remembered Legolas' six-month deadline.

"Raenwe expects us to notify him when we find the antidote," said Aragorn. "But how are we supposed to do that?"

Elrond and Thranduil looked up at him, realizing the truth in his words. No bird had stayed to take a message back to Raenwe.

Elrond shook his head. "Mayhap he will send another message. Then we can keep the bird."

Thranduil sighed loudly, laying his head on the bed.

Recognizing the King's need to be alone with his son, Elrond tapped Aragorn on the arm and motioned for the human to follow him.

Aragorn hesitated, but reluctantly followed.

Thranduil was grateful for the privacy and he lifted his head, staring at Legolas. "Ai…ion-nin," he said, gently touching his son's face. The skin was hot, testifying to the younger elf's infected wound.

Infection…Thranduil thought. Illness in an elf! It is not normal, it is not right! How dare Raenwe do this to my son? My innocent son! Has he not been through enough in his life?

Suddenly, Legolas shifted his head on the pillow, turning slightly towards his father. He made a soft noise that sounded like a whimper, making Thranduil's heart shatter.

Tears filled the king's eyes at his son's suffering. He couldn't even imagine the pain that the younger elf's shoulder was causing him.

A few of the tears escaped as Thranduil reached for the cloth on his son's forehead and rewet it, gently wiping it along Legolas' face. "Fear not, ion-nin, I am here," he said, wondering if Legolas could hear him. "Elrond and Aragorn have come, and will work diligently to find the cure for your affliction. You will not die, I swear to you," he said, firmly, hoping that he was telling the truth. Elrond has the cure for the vanwacoi; he simply needs to find the book that he left it in. That will not take six months, he reasoned.

Legolas moved his head again, soundlessly this time.

A noise suddenly came from the hallway, and Thranduil realized that Aragorn was outside the door. "You may come in," he said, not surprised at all that the human had lingered.

The door opened, and Aragorn and Elrond both reentered.

"Thranduil," said Elrond, standing beside him. "I have thought on the situation, and have come to only one conclusion."

The king looked at him, askance.

"After Legolas has recovered, we must take him with us to Imladris," the healer said. "The cure for vanwacoi is in my library, as we know, and I have a larger assortment of herbs in my supply than your own healers…"

Thranduil nodded, seeing the wisdom in his words. "I understand." He sighed, looking at his son. "I shall accompany you."

Aragorn shot him a surprised look. He's going to leave his kingdom without a ruler?

Elrond was less surprised then Aragorn. He'd known Thranduil for several millennia, and knew the depth of the love that he had for his son…it was a love that would help Legolas through his terrible ordeal, and Elrond couldn't help but smile.

============

The first thing that Legolas became aware of was pain. It came from many different locations, his shoulder being the worst. The pain suddenly grew, and he gasped loudly, realizing that someone was touching it.

Elrond let go of his patient, not having known that he was awake.

Sudden noise greeted his ears, and Legolas opened his eyes to find his father and Aragorn bending over him.

"Penneth!" Thranduil exclaimed, taking the hand on his good arm. "How do you feel?"

Legolas blinked, slightly disoriented from his abrupt awakening. "Ada?"

Thranduil smiled. "Aye, ion-nin. I am here; you shall be fine."

Legolas returned the smile, before looking at Elrond, who was sitting on the side of the bed.

"Do you remember what happened to you, Legolas?" Elrond asked.

Legolas thought for a minute. "I was taken…" He paused, frowning as he tried to remember. "An elf…I do not know who…ada!" he suddenly exclaimed. "He said that he had a message for you—"

"Hush, ion-nin," Thranduil said, softly. "Be calm."

Legolas took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his body.

"You were found five days ago, Legolas," said Aragorn, sitting on the other side of the bed. "Father was just about to relocate your shoulder." He cringed. If only you had waited five more minutes before waking!

Elrond was thinking the same thing. Before he could say anything, Legolas spoke.

"Five days?" he seemed shocked, especially at the fact that his shoulder had not been fixed in all that time.

"It was badly swollen, Legolas," said Thranduil. "Be still, let Elrond care for you."

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes in dreaded anticipation of the pain.

Before his patient had time to grow anxious, Elrond quickly took the arm and twisted it, pushing it back into its proper place.

The pain was agonizing, and Legolas wasn't able to hold back a cry of utter torment.

Aragorn kept a tight grip on Legolas' good shoulder, in support, and squeezed it as Elrond carefully manipulated the arm to be sure of its mobility.

Legolas' eyes were squeezed shut; his face was paler than it already had been and his breathing was very harsh.

Thranduil sighed, brokenhearted at the sight. Still tightly clasping Legolas' hand, he used his other to gently smooth his son's golden hair.

"How does it feel now, penneth?" Elrond said, gently. "Is it set correctly?"

Legolas swallowed, not sure how his voice was going to sound after enduring such agony. "Aye," was all he was able to shakily whisper.

Aragorn sighed in sympathy. Reaching for the pitcher on the nightstand, he filled a glass with water and helped Legolas drink it.

One glass wasn't enough for the elf, and he drank a second before he was satisfied. As Aragorn laid him back down, Legolas closed his eyes.

"Sleep," said Thranduil, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead.

Legolas gave a soft sigh, settling deeper into the pillow and gladly obeying his father.

"I could not help but notice that you didn't inform him as to his…condition," Thranduil whispered to Elrond, after being sure that Legolas couldn't hear them.

Elrond looked at him. "I could not help but notice that you did not either."

Aragorn sighed. "Is Legolas familiar with vanwacoi?"

Thranduil shook his head. "I do not know. I have never spoken to him of it, but he is very knowledgeable, and could easily have learned of it."

Silence fell, as they quietly watched Legolas sleep.

"What exactly has this vanwacoi taken from him?" Aragorn asked, almost afraid to know.

Elrond sighed. "Everything that physically separates him from a mortal. His elven healing ability is gone; he is now susceptible to every sickness that plagues man. His exceptional elven eyesight and hearing will be reduced to that of a mortal—"

"But he still retains his immortality?" Aragorn interrupted.

Elrond nodded. "Yes. He is still an elf in every other way."

That does not make sense, Aragorn thought. Is not the elven healing ability part of what makes an elf immortal? He chose not to ask, as he was sure that Elrond knew what he was speaking of.

"And you are certain that you saved information on the antidote?" Thranduil asked.

Elrond nodded. "I remember placing the paper in a book, to keep it hidden."

Thranduil sighed heavily in relief. "What would we do without you, Elrond…what would Legolas do without you…"

Elrond smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You have saved his life so many times," Thranduil continued, voice slightly unsteady. "When he was born, and so many times since…"

"We all love him, Thranduil," said Elrond. "Fear not, we will restore him to the way that he was before."

The king nodded, giving his friend a grateful smile. As he looked at his son again, the smile vanished. "Elrond…the poison that the letter spoke of…"

The healer sighed. "I have no way of knowing what it is until the symptoms present themselves." Reaching out a hand, he felt Legolas' forehead, finding it thankfully nearly fever-free. "If it is truly as slow-acting as the letter said, then he may not feel its effects for quite some time."

Thranduil echoed the sigh. "He will not ever feel the effects; for it will not take six months to travel to Imladris for the vanwacoi cure."

Elrond said nothing, not wanting to frighten his friend with the fact that he had no idea which book he hid the paper in…and he had a quite a lot of books…

Aragorn sat silently, listening to the conversation as he watched his friend, his healer instincts searching for anything amiss with the sleeping elf. He had no idea that Legolas was awake, hearing every word that they said…