Another week passed with the antidote still not being found. Legolas didn't suffer any more attacks of breathlessness, for which he was immensely grateful.

As he sat at the table checking through books, Legolas was desperately trying to appear normal. He hadn't gotten much sleep all night, as he'd experienced something new for the first time in his life: a runny nose. At first it had horrified him, until he remembered the symptom affecting Aragorn when he had a cold. He'd been upset at the idea of being sick again, but his stomach was not affected and his head wasn't pounding, so he figured that he'd be able to bear it silently.

He was wrong.

His nose was running at that very moment, but he was trying not to sniff, not wanting to draw anyone's attention to himself

Suddenly Aragorn put a book down and stretched his body.

"Need a break?" Elrond said, well aware that human bodies couldn't sit for hours on end.

Aragorn nodded, standing. "I think I'll grab some pastries from the kitchen."

Legolas stood also, relieved to have the chance to take care of his problem. "I'll come."

Thranduil chuckled. "You cannot wait for Aragorn to bring them back?"

Legolas smiled, despite himself. "I have enough self-control to be able to wait, ada, I simply wish to stretch my legs."

Thranduil nodded. "Just be sure to save some for us."

Elrond chuckled.

Legolas nodded, and he and Aragorn left the room. "I'll meet you there," Legolas told his friend.

Aragorn nodded and they parted ways.

Legolas practically ran to his room, rushing in and grabbing a hand-towel, awkwardly blowing his nose the way that he'd seen Aragorn do it so many times. Grimacing as he wiped his face, he threw the towel into the pile of others that he'd used and rushed back out the door.

Legolas had good luck hiding his situation from the others, who had no idea that he wasn't feeling well. His throat had eventually developed a tickle and his head started to ache, but the symptoms were mild, so he was able to ignore them for the most part.

The problems started when night fell.

Everyone had long since retired, but Legolas was wide-awake; sitting up in bed as his nose continued to run. He could do nothing but wipe it, as he knew that blowing it would likely wake Aragorn, who was in the room across the hall. The human had decided to leave his door wide open in case Legolas lost his breath and needed him in the night; it was wise, as the elf was still so inexperienced with human ailments…but at the moment, it only served to be a nuisance to Legolas.

Sighing, Legolas wiped his nose again, eyeing his open door. Getting out of bed, he made his way into the hall and peered into his friend's room.

Aragorn was sleeping on his stomach, an arm hanging off the bed and his hair obscuring view of his face.

Legolas smiled when a sudden snore erupted from his friend. Grasping the door handle, he quietly closed it, before going back into his own room and shutting the door.

Sighing with relief, Legolas blew his nose, crossing over to a water pitcher and taking a long drink, hoping that it would rid his throat of its constant tickle. It didn't work, and Legolas stuffed his face into the towel to muffle the sound of his coughing.

He was glad that his father's room was further down the hall.

Sighing, Legolas rubbed his aching forehead, going back to the bed and climbing in. He began to doze off immediately, but woke when another fit of coughing took hold.

The whole night passed that way for Legolas; he would finally doze off only to be woken by a coughing fit. When morning came, Legolas was exhausted, but he managed to remember to reopen Aragorn's door so that the human wouldn't know what he'd done.

When Aragorn walked into Legolas' room, he was surprised to see the elf's bed in totally disarray, the lump in the middle the only proof that his friend was inside it.

"Legolas?"

He got no answer, and reached forward, trying to find his friend's face. Finally uncovering it, he didn't like what he saw. The elf had shadows under his eyes and his skin was paler than usual.

Just as he was about to check Legolas for fever, a sudden sound came from the elf and he started to cough, turning to shove his face into the pillow.

Aragorn sighed, frowning in concern as his friend kept coughing. Going to the fireplace, he lit it before going to the water pitcher and pouring a glass. "Here, Legolas," he said. "Drink this."

The elf tried to sit up, still coughing, and Aragorn helped him before handing him the glass. After Legolas drank it, Aragorn gently pushed him forward and laid his ear on his friend's back, listening to his lungs. He could hear some congestion, but it wasn't severe. "Where are the nettle leaves that we gave you?"

Legolas looked at him, blinking as if only just noticing his presence. Saying nothing, he pointed to the nightstand.

Aragorn opened the drawer and took them out; along with the small pot they'd given him to boil the water. Moving to the fireplace, he held the pot over the flames. "Do not lie flat," he said.

Legolas gave no reply, coughing again.

The water didn't take too long to boil, and Aragorn quickly brought it back, pouring it into a cup and adding some colder water to cool it down.

Legolas was sitting up in the bed, leaning back against the pillows with his eyes closed. When he felt Aragorn sit on the bed, he opened them.

"Is your breathing all right?" the human asked.

Legolas nodded. His chest felt tight, but he hoped that the tea would remedy that.

Aragorn handed him the cup, watching as Legolas drank it. "You will need to drink as much of this as you can," he said. "Your lung condition can be worsened by illness, especially if a cold settles in the lungs."

Aragorn's words were frightening, and Legolas nodded.

The human noticed that his friend had yet to say a single word. "Is there a reason why you aren't speaking?" he asked. "Is your throat sore?"

Legolas nodded again.

Aragorn sighed and patted his friend's arm. "You've seen me suffer so many colds…unfortunately, now you'll see what it's like."

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes as he started to cough again.

Aragorn gave him more tea, staying with the elf until his coughing fit ended. Reaching a hand to feel Legolas' forehead, he found it warm. "I'll go get ada," he said.

Legolas sighed, dreading his father's reaction when he found out that his son was ill. He started to doze off, but a few minutes later the door was thrown open.

"Legolas!" Thranduil exclaimed, rushing into the room.

The sick elf was startled, and started coughing again.

Elrond frowned at the sound as he approached. Sitting on the bed, he laid his hand on the prince's forehead. He was relieved to find that the fever was low. "Can you sit forward, penneth?"

Legolas repeatedly blinked his eyes, feeling slightly dizzy from the coughing. He obeyed, pulling his body forward, hanging his head as he sniffed. He felt his father put a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady as the healer listened to his lungs.

"Elrond?" said Thranduil, nervously.

"There is fluid in his lungs, but it is not a dangerous amount," said Elrond, sitting up and gently pulling Legolas to lean back again. "You have a bad cold, Legolas."

The sick elf said nothing, suddenly wiggling his nose. He frowned as the tickle increased, and then he gasped when his nose seemingly exploded with a huge sneeze. He groaned when it increased the ache in his head and closed his eyes, sniffing again.

Aragorn went into the washroom to retrieve some towels for his friend. His eyes widened in surprise when he found a pile of them in a corner and hardly any clean ones left. Taking the ones that remained, Aragorn brought them out and placed them beside Legolas on the bed before going back into the washroom. Taking a large bath towel, he plopped it onto the pile and used it to contain all the dirty ones.

Elrond looked at him with a puzzled frown when he saw his son with an armful of towels.

"Dirty," Aragorn said, walking towards the door. "I have to get more."

Thranduil's eyes widened when he saw that his son had obviously suffered silently all night. "Why did you not tell us?" he asked.

Legolas sighed as he blew his nose. "I did not wish to worry anyone, it's only a cold," he answered. It was the first time that he'd spoken, and his voice sounded very scratchy. He winced at the pain that talking caused his throat.

"'Only a cold' or not," said Elrond. "The situation with your lungs complicates things. You cannot keep hiding from us."

Legolas looked around for a place to lay the soiled towel. "Forgive me," he said. "I am not used to this." Nor do I think I ever will be.

Thranduil stood from the bed, going into the washroom and retrieving a pail. His heart clenched when his son started coughing again, and he picked up the towel by the tip of a corner and dropped it into the pail.

Elrond saw the pot of nettle tea, and poured some into a cup, handing it to the younger elf.

Legolas sighed as he drank it; relieved that it helped his breathing, but realizing that he was likely to become very tired of drinking it.

Aragorn came back into the room with an armful of clean towels, sitting them in a pile on the nightstand. Unslinging a pack from his shoulder, he handed it to Elrond.

Elrond opened it, fishing through his herbs. "Do you have any pain, Legolas?"

Ordinarily, Legolas would have said that he was fine, but the coughing caused his throat near-agony, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to deal with it for very long.

"He told me that his throat is sore," Aragorn told Elrond, before Legolas had a chance to say anything.

Elrond nodded, taking out some leaves and holding them out. "Chew these," he said.

Legolas took them and obeyed, grimacing when he swallowed.

"What do you wish to eat for breakfast?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas slowly shook his head, his eyes closing and reopening again. "I am not hungry."

"Is your cold affecting your stomach?" Elrond asked.

"No," Legolas said, eyes closed.

"Then you must eat," said the healer. "You are ill; your body needs fuel in order to fight it."

Legolas sighed, not reopening his eyes. "I'll eat later, right now I just wish to sleep."

No one could refuse his wish, as they could see how tired the sick elf was.

"Sleep, penneth," said Thranduil. "We will be right here."

At that, Legolas reopened his eyes. "I'm all right, ada," he said. "There is no reason to watch over me. Tell them, Estel."

Aragorn suddenly found the two older elves looking at him. "Well…" he said. "Speaking as someone who knows what it is like to have a cold, it's uncomfortable, yes, but it's not a serious illness. Rest and food is usually all that is needed."

Elrond nodded at the king. "Estel speaks the truth, as I have had many years to observe him. If no complications arise, Legolas should be fine within a week."

"If no complications arise?" Thranduil repeated.

"Complications are not common," Elrond told him, suddenly noticing Legolas trying to hold in his coughs. "Do not hold it back, penneth, coughing is the body's way of ridding the lungs of fluid."

Legolas inwardly sighed, having tried to hold it in to show his father that he was all right. Grabbing a towel, he held it over his mouth to downplay his cough's severity, wanting everyone to leave him in peace. "Please," he said. "There is no reason to hover. Leave my door open if it will ease your minds, but don't let something as minor as a cold force you all to sit around my bed waiting for disaster."

No one said anything for a minute; seeing his point, but remembering all the times when disaster did strike.

"I hope that we shall not need to throw those words back at you, mellon-nin," said Aragorn.

Legolas smiled slightly, despite himself. "You will not."

"All right, my son," said Thranduil, standing, to Elrond's surprise. "We will leave you to your rest. Be sure to call if you need anything."

Legolas nodded, closing his eyes and burrowing his head deeper into the pillow.

Aragorn frowned when Thranduil gestured for them to follow him, motioning for them both to be quiet until they were far enough away from Legolas' room.

"We will simply return once he has fallen asleep," said the king, looking smug.

Aragorn smiled, amused at Thranduil's trick.

The sound of harsh coughing suddenly filled the room, and Thranduil cringed as he leaned over the bed.

Legolas' eyes were squeezed shut; his face paler than it had been that morning.

Thranduil sighed. Legolas' cold had worsened since the previous day, with the sick elf not able to obtain much sleep. It was now nearly nightfall once more, and the elf-king nervously hoped that the illness had reached its peak, for Legolas looked exhausted.

Wiping a wet cloth over his son's forehead and face, Thranduil reached for the cup of nettle tea that he'd recently brewed, anticipating his son's awakening. "Drink this, penneth," he said.

Legolas opened his eyes, seeing what his father held. He kept coughing, suddenly unable to stop.

Thranduil frowned, fear entering his eyes at the sight. He put the cup down and dashed towards the door, bellowing Elrond's name.

The healer had just been entering the room, and was literally plowed into by the frantic king. He gave a cry of shock when he was unexpectedly knocked off his feet.

Thranduil gasped when they collided, sending them both to the floor in a heap.

Elrond quickly scrambled up and limped towards the bed, concerned at the gasps coming from the Mirkwood Prince.

Legolas felt the bed move when Elrond sat on it. "I'm all right," he croaked, laughing at the insane sight that he'd just beheld.

Thranduil was relieved to hear his son's voice. "He could not stop coughing!"

"How is your breathing?" Elrond asked, feeling the sick elf's forehead.

"Fine," Legolas said, his laughter making him cough again.

"Legolas," said Thranduil, seeing through his son's lie.

Legolas closed his eyes, inwardly fighting his laughter. "My breath is not overly short, just somewhat…thick?"

Elrond nodded, brushing some hair out of Legolas' face. "It is caused by the fluid in your lungs. You've been asleep for the past few hours, allowing it to settle. Do not try to hold back the coughs, for the more you do it, the more fluid you get out."

"Out?" Legolas echoed, his laughter quickly fading.

Elrond nodded. "The fluid has to come out of your lungs. Compare it to coughing up water when you nearly drowned last year."

"When he what?!" Thranduil exploded.

Elrond's eyes widened so much that Legolas started laughing again. Unfortunately, it only served to induce another coughing fit.

Elrond winced at what he'd just done; obviously, Legolas kept certain incidents a secret from his father. Sighing, he slid an arm behind Legolas and sat him straight up in the bed. "Hold him, Thranduil."

The elf-king obeyed, watching as Elrond listened to his son's lungs again.

Legolas leaned his forehead against his father's shoulder, still coughing. His head was painfully spinning, and the coughing was causing excruciating pain to his throat. He couldn't prevent a groan, and felt his father's hands tighten their hold.

Elrond sat up again, frowning.

"Elrond?" said Thranduil.

"The fluid has increased," Elrond said. "Do you feel much worse, Legolas?"

Legolas closed his eyes as they leaned him back against the pillows. His mind said 'yes!' but he answered, "No."

Elrond reached for his bag of herbs, just as Aragorn came into the room.

"I could hear you coughing down the hall!" the human said, with a sympathetic expression. "I had a feeling that you'd be waking soon, so I went to retrieve some of these." With that, he pulled a dish out from behind his back.

Legolas smiled sleepily, at the sight of Rivendell's pastries. He had no appetite, but reached out for one anyway, hoping to disperse everyone's worry.

Everyone watched him as he ate, noting how sluggish his movements were, and aware of the fact that he only ate one.

After another coughing fit, Legolas fell back to sleep.

"Is it only my opinion that he seems to be growing worse?" Thranduil said, nervously.

Elrond sighed as he sorted through his herbs. "The amount of fluid in his lungs is cause for concern, especially given the fact that he also has a lung condition."

Thranduil looked stricken. They'd never seen such fear in his face.

"Juniper oil?" said Elrond.

Aragorn had already placed a bottle on the nightstand, anticipating its use. He handed it to his father and opened Legolas' shirt.

Elrond slowly poured it onto the sick elf's chest, spreading it gently so as not to wake him. The vapors filled the air quickly and Elrond hoped that it would ease Legolas' breathing, which he could see was strained, despite the elf's assurance of being 'fine'.

Legolas made a soft noise in his sleep, moving his head slightly.

"Hush, penneth," Elrond whispered, handing the bottle to Aragorn.

Thranduil placed a hand on his son's forehead. "I think that his fever has risen."

Elrond checked for himself, confirming the king's suspicion. Sighing, he laid the wet cloth on Legolas' forehead. "It's going to be another long night."

Poor Legolas! Let's all get in line to kill Raenwe! ;) Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews! Keep on reading; MUCH is still in store, believe me! ;) lol! (Oh yeah, in case you're wondering, the mention of Legolas 'almost drowning last year' was in reference to my 'Tears of a Soul' story.) Also I wanted to say again that the twins WILL be in this story, but not until much later. Stay tuned for chap 17! ;)