Hey everyone! :) I wanted to address the reviews asking for Elladan and Elrohir. They will show up, but not for a while. This is the first time that I'd ever written Thranduil, so when I'd started this story, I'd decided to leave the twins out because I was trying to concentrate on figuring out how to write Legolas' father. When I got the hang of it, I decided to bring the twins in, but like I said, it's way later. Just wanted to let everyone know! :)

Legolas watched as his father fought for his life against Raenwe. He tried to reach his father's side, but could not break free of the chains that bound him to a wall. He could do nothing but watch, desperately hoping that his father would come out the victor.

"Revenge, Thranduil!" Raenwe suddenly shouted. "I had revenge on your son, and now I shall have it on you!"

Legolas' breath caught in his chest as Raenwe thrust his sword into his opponent's stomach. 'No!' he tried to shout, but he found that he could not speak.

Thranduil turned to look at his son, before falling heavily to the ground, blood pooling around him…

"NO!"

Aragorn held onto Legolas' arms, desperately trying to wake him. The elf was breathing much too fast, his eyes clenched shut in obvious distress. "Legolas!" he exclaimed, after his friend's frenzied cry.

The sick elf suddenly awoke with a jolt, his body shaking. He repeatedly blinked his eyes, finding them filled with unshed tears.

Aragorn kept a hand on Legolas' arm, using his other to remove the wet cloth on the elf's forehead and checking the status of his fever. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Legolas said nothing, still breathing heavily. His dream had been so realistic that he'd thought it to be reality.

Aragorn found the fever unchanged, and squeezed his friend's arm. "What did you dream?"

Legolas almost couldn't get the words out. "Raenwe killed my father…and I could do nothing but watch." He looked around the room, realizing that Thranduil was nowhere to be seen.

Aragorn winced in sympathy, sitting on the bed. "Your father is fine, he has been in the library with ada for the past hour, searching for the vanwacoi cure."

Legolas' breathing started to calm, and relief was obvious on his face.

"Sleep," Aragorn said, rewetting the cloth and using it to pat his friend's fever-hot face. "You will feel better when next you wake."

Legolas sighed, hoping Aragorn's words to be true as his eyes gently slid shut once more.

Legolas didn't wake again until nearly midnight.

Opening his eyes, he found it dark in the room except for a candle on the nightstand. He saw that Aragorn was asleep in the chair beside the bed, and his father's absence was again noticeable.

Legolas' terrible dream came back to him and it sent a shiver down his spine. Could something have befallen him and they aren't telling me?

Looking again at Aragorn, Legolas moved quietly, trying to get out of the bed without making any noise. He succeeded, blinking his eyes against the dizziness brought on by his illness.

Grabbing a robe, he awkwardly pulled it on and slowly made his way to the door. There was a strange floating sensation in his head, and he wondered if all sicknesses cause such a thing.

Opening the door, Legolas started down the hallway, leaning against the wall for support. He headed for the library, wanting to know if Aragorn's earlier words were true. It seemed to take forever to reach it, but when he finally did he had to lean against the door, weakness and his pounding headache trying to overwhelm him.

Ignoring it, Legolas straightened and pushed against the door. The first face that he saw was Elrond's, and he didn't immediately see his father. Something has befallen him! he gasped.

The sound brought Elrond's attention to the figure in the doorway, and he stood up in surprise before hurrying over. "Why are you out of bed?!" he whispered.

Legolas didn't realize the significance of Elrond's soft tone. "Where is my father?!" he exclaimed.

Elrond frowned at the expression of near-panic on the young elf's face. Legolas' skin was very pale under the fever-flushed cheeks; the sick prince looked disoriented and unsteady, and Elrond took his arm in case he was unable to maintain his balance. "He is right there." He pointed to the table, where a blond head rested unmoving.

Legolas blinked, realizing that his father had fallen asleep in his chair.

Elrond wrapped an arm around Legolas, helping him over to his father. "He is fine, penneth, what is wrong?"

"I…I had a dream," Legolas answered. "Raenwe killed him. It seemed so real…"

The sick elf's voice sounded distant, as if he were speaking while falling asleep. Elrond tightened his hold, using his other hand to check the status of Legolas' fever. "I can imagine. It must have been terrible indeed." He found the younger elf's temperature still unchanged; something that greatly worried him. "You are ill, Legolas, you know that fevers can affect the mind."

Legolas nodded as Elrond gently sat him in one of the chairs. "Aye…but when I woke, ada was not there, so I feared the worst." He gave Elrond a sheepish look, feeling foolish.

Elrond smiled, patting his arm. "He was there many times, but you were asleep."

Legolas smiled back, watching his father's face as he slept. His eyes were open, of course, and though their whispering voices could have been enough to wake him, they didn't, as the circumstances regarding Legolas had rendered the elf-king very tired.

Legolas suddenly noticed that the table was piled high with books. "Have you found it yet?"

Elrond's smile faded. "No."

Legolas said nothing, nodding. "That is all right. I was but an elfling when you hid it; nearly three thousand years is a long time to clearly remember the location of a mere piece of paper."

Elrond nodded, though he looked upset at the admission. Suddenly he frowned and looked towards the door.

Legolas followed his gaze, hearing nothing.

Elrond suddenly jumped out of the chair and dashed towards the door, quickly opening it and going into the hallway.

Legolas realized that Aragorn must've woken up, found his friend's bed empty, and run down the hall in search of him. He sighed at the fact that the vanwacoi had obviously stolen from him his exceptional elven hearing.

He was glad to see that he could at least hear muted voices through the door. Elrond's, 'hush!' was obvious, and Legolas realized that the healer had aimed to intercept his son before the human burst in and accidentally woke Thranduil.

A minute later the door opened and Aragorn walked in, looking concerned.

Legolas gave him an apologetic look, feeling sorry that he'd made Aragorn worry.

Not saying a word, Aragorn walked quietly over to Legolas, pulling him out of the chair and supporting his weight. He brought his friend over to the door and Elrond opened it for them.

"Stay in bed, Legolas," Elrond whispered. "You need rest in order to recover."

Legolas nodded, having heard those words seemingly thousands of times in his life.

Aragorn remained quiet as they walked back to the room, and he helped Legolas lie down, pulling the covers to his chin before he finally spoke. "Do that to me again, Legolas, and you'll live to regret it."

Legolas gave him a lopsided grin. "Forgive me for worrying you, naneth."

Aragorn rolled his eyes at being called 'mother'. "How would you feel if I was the one who was ill, and you awoke to find me missing?"

Legolas blinked. "You speak as if that has never happened before."

Aragorn took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to hide a grin. "That is not the point, mellon-nin."

Legolas chuckled, closing his eyes as the strange floating sensation returned to his brain. He was relieved that his stomach felt all right, but his head still throbbed.

Aragorn watched as Legolas drifted off to sleep, relieved that his friend hadn't somehow hurt himself when he'd left the room. When he'd awoken to find the elf gone, he'd been afraid that Legolas' fever had risen and he'd wandered off in a delirious stupor…only to find out that he'd merely snuck away. "Stubborn elf."

When Legolas opened his eyes the next morning, it was to see three happy faces above him.

"Your fever has broken," Aragorn told him, smiling. "How do you feel?"

Legolas took a deep breath, trying to clear his still-foggy mind. "Better," he realized. "My headache has greatly diminished."

Thranduil sat on the side of the bed, reaching a hand to his son's forehead and gently stroking it, as if trying to disperse the rest of his pain. "Can you eat? You have gone without food far too long."

Legolas nodded.

Elrond smiled at that, having seen too often the effects of starvation on an already sick body. "Estel?" he said.

Aragorn nodded and left the room, intent on bringing the elf some breakfast.

"What are your symptoms now, penneth?" Elrond asked.

"Just the headache," Legolas told him. "But it has greatly lessened."

"Do not use that as an excuse to get out of bed," said Elrond. "You have the recovery speed of a human now. You need to rest to regain your strength."

Legolas said nothing, hating to accept such words.

Thranduil couldn't blame him. He remembered himself at Legolas' age, and knew that he had been exactly the same way. He sighed as guilt over the situation began to assault him again. Why did Raenwe not choose me to afflict?

A sudden touch brought him out of his thoughts, and he found Legolas' hand inside his own.

I do not blame you, Legolas' blue eyes clearly told him. Do not blame yourself.

Thranduil smiled slightly, tightening his grip.

Aragorn came back a minute later, opening the door and moving towards the bed, trying to be quick without spilling anything. Setting down the tray, he moved back and purposely bumped into his father, slipping something into his hand. "Why don't the two of you eat in the dining hall?" he said. "I'll stay with Legolas."

Thranduil was about to refuse, but Elrond spoke first. "That is a good idea, Estel. Thranduil needs to eat almost as much as Legolas does."

Thranduil frowned, but Elrond caught his eye and briefly revealed what he was holding in his hand.

"Ada?" Legolas said, not seeing what had passed between the two older elves. "Have you been neglecting yourself over me?"

Thranduil smiled and smoothed his son's hair. "Mayhap a little, ion-nin. I shall go with Elrond to remedy that."

Legolas smiled, sitting up and accepting the bowl of broth that Aragorn handed him.

"Put some of this in it," said Elrond, handing the human a packet of herbs. "It will help the headache."

Aragorn took it, and the two elves left the room.

The minute that the door closed behind them, Thranduil grabbed Elrond's arm and snatched the letter from his hand.

Thranduil,

I assume that you have arrived in Imladris by now. Can luck have it be that Elrond has already found the vanwacoi antidote? Remember, Legolas only has six months to live without it before my poison kills him…rather, five and a half. Time is already running out, old friend.

Raenwe

Thranduil opened his mouth to exclaim just what he thought of his 'old friend', but Elrond quickly put a hand over his mouth, not wanting Legolas to hear. Grabbing the letter, he read it himself, pulling Thranduil down the corridor…towards his library, not the dining hall.

"You look better," Aragorn told Legolas, as the elf drank the broth.

Legolas smiled, handing the bowl back. "I feel better…finally. How do you deal with sickness? I feel as if I have been ill for weeks."

Aragorn nodded, placing the bowl on the table. "It is something that humans grow accustomed to. It does not happen regularly, so that makes it easier to bear."

Legolas said nothing as he picked up a piece of lembas bread. "I hope that it will not happen often to me." He felt ashamed to admit what he considered a fear, but the words were out before he had a chance to stop them.

"So do I, mellon-nin," Aragorn said. "But your body is not used to dealing with illness, so do not be surprised if you become ill again. I hate to say such words, but it would be better if you knew what to expect…"

"I know," Legolas said, finishing the bread and drinking a cup of tea.

"Are you full?" Aragorn suddenly asked.

Legolas put down the cup, thinking. "Not particularly…why?"

Aragorn suddenly smiled, pulling something out of his pocket.

Legolas watched as he opened a cloth-wrapped bundle, to reveal…..

"Estel! You didn't!" he exclaimed, reaching out for the pastries.

Aragorn smiled. "Rivendell's finest," he said.

Legolas smiled as his hand hovered over them, unsure which one to choose. They each had a different fruit topping.

"Try the blueberry," said Aragorn.

Legolas did as he said, taking a bite and closing his eyes. "Umm…finest, indeed!"

Aragorn smiled, taking one for himself and placing the bundle on Legolas' tray. "The others are apple, lemon, and cherry."

"You truly do spoil me," Legolas said, smiling. "By the end of this week, I shall weigh more than I ever have."

Aragorn smiled. "Do you wish me to get you anything else?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, hannon le."

"You're welcome," Aragorn said, taking the tray.

Legolas grabbed the bundle of pastries, sitting them in his lap.

Aragorn chuckled, and between the two of them, every pastry was eaten.