Hi everyone! :) I wanted to answer a couple of reviews before we go on to the chapter: someone demanded action. It's coming, don't worry! :) This is my longest story by far, so I'm making the chapters longer. The other one I wanted to address about Legolas 'getting everything' and that it's 'unlikely'…if he still had the health of an elf, that would be true. Right now, Legolas is lacking his elven healing ability, which gives him the physical constitution of a human. Legolas' body has never had to fight sickness before, so his body is unsure how to deal with it. The reason why Legolas is doomed to fall ill is because he's encountering all kinds of germs that he has no resistance to. If we went to, like, a different planet or something, lol, and encountered all kinds of new germs, we'd all get sick too. Compare it to a kid; kids get sick all the time, because their bodies are exposed to tons of germs and have no resistance to them yet! Adults build up the resistance as they age, and that's why we get sick less often than kids. With Legolas' body only now having to fight illnesses on its own, it makes perfect sense for him to get sick a few times, lol. The poor elf is being bombarded with germs! ;)
The night passed slowly, as the two elves and human sat up with Legolas, each of them refusing to sleep.
Legolas was oblivious to it all, sleeping deeply.
Thranduil continued to rewet the cloth on Legolas' forehead, never relinquishing it to the others. He felt so guilty over the entire situation; Raenwe had planned to inflict him with the vanwacoi, not Legolas. Thranduil couldn't bear to see his son suffer; felled by a human illness.
For the fifth time in twenty minutes, Elrond felt Legolas' forehead.
"Any improvement?" Thranduil asked.
"Not yet," said Elrond. Inwardly sighing, he looked to the horizon, seeing the sun starting to rise.
A real sigh caught his attention, and he turned to see Aragorn tiredly staring at his friend.
Elrond reached out his hand, touching his son's arm. "Worry not, he will be fine."
Aragorn gave him a slight smile, but looked at Legolas when the elf started to stir.
Thranduil immediately started stroking his son's hair. "Legolas? Are you awake?"
Legolas slowly opened his eyes, blinking up at him.
Thranduil smiled, while Elrond turned to his pack of herbs.
"How do you feel?" the healer asked.
"Tired," Legolas told him.
Thranduil frowned, wondering how he could be tired after sleeping since the previous evening. Sighing inwardly, he wondered if he'd ever grasp the concept of human illness.
"Are you hungry?" Aragorn asked. "You need to eat."
Legolas' pale face suddenly got whiter, and he closed his eyes, putting a hand over his mouth and turning onto his side.
"Legolas!" said Thranduil, putting a hand on his back. "What is it?"
Elrond leaned over the younger elf, placing a hand on his forehead. "Hush," he told the king. "He is nauseated."
Everyone watched Legolas, who lay there unmoving, his eyes and jaw clenched tightly shut.
Aragorn put a hand on his friend's arm, careful not to touch his injured shoulder. He was glad that Legolas' stomach was currently empty.
Legolas took deep breaths, willing his stomach to calm. Between the headache and nausea, he realized that the symptoms were similar to a concussion. But I did not hit my head, he thought. I am suffering illness…a human illness!
Thranduil rubbed his son's back, anger mixing with his concern. If I am ever faced with Raenwe, I shall kill him for doing this to my son!
A minute later, Legolas opened his eyes, shakily lowering his hand. He started to turn over again, and Thranduil and Aragorn helped him.
Legolas took another deep breath, sighing with relief as his father patted the cool cloth over his fevered face.
Elrond poured warm liquid into a cup, bringing it to the Mirkwood Prince.
Legolas looked at him as if he believed the healer to have lost his senses.
Elrond smiled slightly. "It will soothe your stomach, and lessen the pain in your head."
Legolas looked warily at the cup. He was relieved that nothing had been in his stomach when the nausea had struck, and would rather not drink anything if it planned to come back up.
Aragorn slid an arm under his friend and lifted him up slowly, not wanting to bring on a spell of dizziness.
The world swayed before Legolas anyway, and the cup was suddenly before his face. Clamping his mouth shut, he inhaled its scent first, waiting to see if his stomach reacted.
Elrond was patient, expecting such behavior.
His nausea didn't worsen, so Legolas allowed Elrond to feed him a sip. His stomach immediately churned when the liquid made contact, but it calmed a few seconds later as the herbs began their quick work.
Thranduil smiled when his son drank more of the medicine.
Aragorn laid his friend back down when Legolas was finished, and the sick elf's face gained a little color when his stomach settled.
"Hannon le," Legolas said to Elrond, sighing with relief.
The healer smiled, patting his arm.
Legolas blinked, opening his eyes all the way. Slowly turning his head, he viewed his surroundings. "Do we leave soon?"
Aragorn frowned. "Leave?"
"We cannot leave, Legolas!" Thranduil cut in. "You are ill!"
Legolas sighed. He felt completely horrible, but was so impatient to get to Imladris. "Aye, but is that not reason for haste?" he asked.
Elrond smiled slightly, recognizing the young elf's trick. Reaching a hand towards Legolas, he felt his forehead. "Your fever has not lessened, but neither has it worsened."
Legolas frowned, not sure if he was trying to say that it was a good or a bad thing.
Elrond stood, gesturing for Thranduil to follow him.
Aragorn moved closer to Legolas, watching as they walked away.
"The choice is yours," Elrond said to Thranduil.
"Whether or not we journey on?" Thranduil said, shocked. "Legolas is not fit for travel!"
Elrond stopped walking. "That may be so, but I think that we should." He sighed, facing the King. "I hate to worry you, Thranduil, but there is no other way to say this…"
Thranduil frowned, a stab of fear growing in his stomach.
Elrond lowered his voice, as if not wanting anyone else to hear. "Legolas' body is not used to dealing with illness. What I fear is that his body will not know how to fight against it, and he may get sicker. I have a much more extensive supply of herbs in Imladris than I have with me here…"
Thranduil realized his friend's concern. Should they linger here, Legolas' illness could go beyond Elrond's control. "We leave, then!"
Elrond nodded, turning and making his way back. "We move on," he told them.
Aragorn looked slightly surprised, but Legolas was glad, and tried to sit up.
Thranduil reached him almost faster than the eye could see. "Be still, penneth," he said.
Legolas looked up at him, his eyes widening when his father swooped down and picked him up. "Ada! I can walk!"
"Can you, elfling?"
Legolas looked up at his father, smiling slightly at the smirk that the king was trying to hide.
Remounting, Thranduil shared Legolas' horse with him. "Do not bother protesting," said the king. "Sleep, so that your body can heal."
Legolas said nothing, irked at being treated as if he were a fragile piece of glass. Sighing, he rested his head against his father's chest, hearing his heartbeat. Ai, he thought. What is wrong with me? I should be glad to have my father's support, not resentful of it.
Thranduil set the horse into a walk and looked down at his son. He grinned at the sight of Legolas asleep with a smile on his face.
Travel that day was slow, as Thranduil didn't want to accidentally rouse Legolas, who had yet to stir from his slumber. He wasn't sure if it was a natural sleep or not, for the younger elf's fever hadn't changed.
Elrond wondered the same thing, and they rode even after night fell. When it was too dark to see properly, they finally stopped.
Thranduil was very gentle with Legolas, but he was nonetheless relieved when the sick elf awoke from the movement.
"Ada?" Legolas whispered, sounding groggy.
"Hush," the king said, gently placing him on the bedroll that Aragorn quickly laid out. "We have stopped for the night."
Legolas said nothing, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He felt foggy, from having slept for so long.
"How do you feel?" Elrond asked, kneeling beside him as Aragorn built a fire.
Legolas was about to say 'fine', but knew that he'd never get away with it. "My head still aches."
"And your stomach?" said Elrond, feeling his forehead.
"Not as bad as it was," Legolas told him, sounding relieved.
Elrond smiled, placing a pot of water over the fire.
"I'm almost afraid to ask you this, Legolas…" said Aragorn, kneeling beside him.
Before the human had a chance to continue, Legolas spoke. "Not yet."
Aragorn nodded with a frown; it upset him that Legolas couldn't eat. "The very minute that you are able, mellon-nin, I expect you to tell me. You need strength."
Legolas nodded at him, watching as Elrond prepared more tea. His eyes kept trying to close by themselves, and it surprised him, considering that he'd slept all day. "How far did we get?" he asked his father.
"We arrive tomorrow," the king told him.
Legolas smiled at that, and looked at Elrond as the healer brought him the tea. "Have you recalled which book the vanwacoi cure is in?"
Elrond froze, having not expected the question. "No…" he said, not looking Legolas in the eye. "But I shall. Fear not."
Legolas said nothing, obediently drinking the tea and lying back down again. He fell back to sleep within minutes, and Aragorn followed his example, exhausted from staying awake the night before.
As Elrond turned away to rinse out the cup and put it back in his pack, he couldn't stop a feeling of anxiety from gripping his stomach as he desperately tried to recall which book he'd hidden the antidote paper in. He hadn't the slightest idea, and it terrified him. What if I no longer have the book? he thought. Please…he prayed, let it still be in my library…please…
The next time that Legolas awoke, it was to the sound of loud voices. Startling, he opened his eyes to find himself held against his father's chest, sitting on a horse. The sun was setting, and he looked around, bewildered.
The voices had come from Rivendell elves, as they welcomed Elrond and Aragorn back home.
Blinking, Legolas tried to figure out how they'd suddenly come to be in Imladris. He felt disoriented, remembering nothing after going to sleep the night before.
Thranduil felt the sudden tension in his son's body. "Legolas? Are you awake?"
"Aye," Legolas answered, re-closing his eyes as the horse started walking again.
"We've arrived, mellon-nin!" Aragorn said, touching his friend's arm. "Soon you will be fine, Legolas."
Legolas smiled at that, drifting off again as the horses stopped and he was handed down to Elrond.
The healer didn't bother waiting for Thranduil to dismount. Turning and hurrying into his house, Elrond headed for the room that Legolas had long-ago claimed as his own, and gently laid him on the bed.
Legolas stirred again when Thranduil neared the bed. Opening his eyes, he watched tiredly as Elrond handed the king a wet cloth.
"I shall return," the healer said. "I wish to retrieve more herbs."
The king nodded, laying the cloth over his son's forehead.
"How do you feel, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, sitting beside him on the bed.
"I am fine, Estel," he replied, closing his eyes again. "Worry not."
Aragorn and Thranduil exchanged a frustrated look over the sick elf.
Elrond hurried to his herb closet, gathering everything that he knew would help to cure human sicknesses. Going back to Legolas' room, he found Thranduil and Aragorn changing him into nightclothes.
Heading towards a table, Elrond laid out his herbs and began separating them based on their healing properties. Finding one to combat fever, he quickly mixed it into some water and heated it over the fire.
Aragorn saw his father's actions, and helped Legolas into a sitting position.
Legolas kept blinking his eyes, trying to keep them open. Sickness is a strange thing…he thought. To be exhausted after sleeping so much? It made no sense to him, and suddenly the cup was before his face.
Obediently drinking it, Legolas closed his eyes, asleep even before Aragorn laid him back down again.
"That was the cure for his illness?" Thranduil asked.
Elrond shook his head. "No…many human illness have no cures; their bodies simply have to fight it. I have many herbs that help, including the one that I just gave him. It should lower his fever."
Thranduil nodded, watching his son sleep.
"There is no cause for worry," Elrond said. "This illness cannot prove fatal. His symptoms will cause him discomfort for a few more days, but he will be up and about soon."
"Truly?" said the king.
Elrond nodded, smiling gently.
Thranduil looked relieved, but then he frowned. "You were so eager to get him here so quickly…I believed that he may've been dying."
Elrond looked contrite. "Forgive me, mellon-nin! I wished for haste because I did not have with me the herb that I just gave him. I was afraid that his body would not know how to combat the fever without it…"
Thranduil nodded, holding out a hand to stop the healer's words. "I understand, worry not."
Elrond stopped, but sighed. "If you would like, you can assist me in searching for the book containing the vanwacoi antidote."
Thranduil looked at him, eyes opened wide. He'd been so worried about his son's current state, that he hadn't realized that they could now free Legolas from this whole terrible situation forever.
"Aragorn will stay with Legolas so that he is not left alone," Elrond said. He gestured towards the door, knowing that Thranduil would feel better if he were actually doing something to help his ailing son.
Thranduil took another look at Legolas, not wanting to leave him. Elrond assured me that he will be fine, now that he has been treated for the fever. He sighed, gently smoothing his son's hair.
"I will not leave this chair," Aragorn said to the king, from where he sat beside the bed. "He will be safe."
Thranduil smiled at the human, before nodding and following the healer out the door.