Hi everyone! Here's chapter 35! There's only 1 chapter left! (sniff) Thank you so much for your fantastic reviews! I'm so glad that you all like this story! :) Enjoy the rest of it, and stay warm! Who else got 2 feet of snow like I did? (gasp) LOL! :)

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True to his word, Elrond returned after breakfast carrying a tray—with his sons behind him. At breakfast, he'd told the twins the same story that he told Thranduil, not wanting them to dash to Legolas' room and make the King suspicious. It wasn't until breakfast had ended that they learned the truth, and it was difficult for the two to walk calmly rather than rushing down the halls.

They reached the Prince's room and found the two friends asleep; Aragorn slumped in the chair beside the bed.

Legolas was still breathing too fast, his breaths shallower than they should be.

The twins grew nervous at the sight, and they gently slid their friend up higher in the bed, hoping that it would aid his breathing.

Legolas stirred slightly at their touch, but fell back to sleep without completely waking.

Aragorn suddenly awoke and sat up, quickly looking at Legolas to check his condition. He was relieved to see his father and brothers in the room, and almost equally glad to see the tray of food.

The hours passed quietly, and early in the afternoon, Legolas felt better.

"I think it would be wise for you to stay here," said Elrond, when the younger elf wanted to get out of bed. "You may feel better now, but that will likely change once you start exerting yourself. You have not given yourself much time to recover."

Legolas knew that Elrond was probably right. "But my father will know that something is wrong, if he does not see me all day. I do not wish him to come here and find me this way." He turned to Elladan. "You said that he was not at the midday meal?"

The twins shook their heads.

"I will simply bring him lunch, and after we dine, I will return to my room," Legolas said.

Elrond said nothing, inwardly wondering why Legolas was so adamant.

Legolas sighed, knowing the other elf's thoughts. "My father has hid his worry and fear for my life, and only recently has he been able to let it go. Just yesterday, he expressed his joy at how healthy I have been lately, and if he heard of this, now…"

The others finally understood, and Elrond couldn't bear to dissuade him.

The twins went to the kitchens to have the food prepared, and Aragorn—not wanting Legolas to exert himself—hunted around the palace for the King, finding him poring over paperwork. He then met up with the twins, and they went back to Legolas' room.

"He is working in his study," Aragorn told him.

Legolas nodded. "Hannon le," he told his friends, taking the tray. "I will be fine, I truly do feel much better."

Everyone nodded at him, hoping that he was as fit as he sounded.

Legolas slowly walked the halls, not wanting to aggravate his lungs. He hadn't lied when he said that he felt better, but he was not completely whole, either.

Reaching the door, he shifted the tray to his left hand and reached for the handle, but the door opened before he even touched it.

"Legolas!" exclaimed Thranduil.

Legolas smiled. "Good day, ada."

Thranduil returned the smile and took the tray, going back into the room. "I was just on my way to find you, ion-nin. You slept through breakfast, and I missed lunch."

So did I, Legolas thought. "I know; that's why I brought you something to eat."

Thranduil smiled again as he sat the tray on his desk. "That was very thoughtful of you." He sat down, looking at his son. "How are you feeling today?"

"Perfectly fine," Legolas said, taking a pastry off the tray.

The two elves had an enjoyable two hours, eating and talking. Legolas' breathing wasn't affected enough to be noticeable, to his relief.

Eventually, one of Thranduil's advisors came in, wanting to consult the King on some matter. Legolas took the opportunity to leave, for he didn't wish Aragorn or the twins to come looking for him. "I will see you at supper, ada," he said.

Thranduil smiled. "See you then."

Legolas smiled back and left, heading back to his room. He wasn't surprised to find Aragorn and the twins awaiting him.

"Tummy full?" said Elrohir.

Legolas chuckled, sitting on the bed.

"How is your breathing?" Aragorn asked.

"I had no additional trouble," he answered. "Worry not."

They made him rest until supper, and to Legolas' relief, Thranduil went to bed that night without knowing what had happened to his son that day.

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Another month passed…and Legolas' elven healing ability still had yet to return. None of his mortal symptoms had left, and everyone was growing very nervous.

Legolas occasionally had attacks of breathlessness, and his shoulder still pained him. He tried to ignore his body's complaints, denying that they existed. He refused to accept that he wouldn't be cured; or rather, he acted that way in front of the others. Inwardly, he was frightened.

Every morning, the first thing that Legolas would do was open his balcony doors and stand there for a minute. Each time, he froze and quickly closed it. Sighing, he would force his dismay away with one thought; Tomorrow may be the day that the air does not chill me. He knew that it was a slight exaggeration, but he didn't care.

As the days passed, everyone was at least glad that he didn't contract any illnesses, and Legolas desperately hoped that he would not.

His hope was in vain.

"ACHOO!"

Aragorn was woken by the sudden sound, and rolled out of bed, quickly going into his friend's room. He found Legolas sitting up, blowing his nose.

"Aragord!" Legolas said, his voice sounding very nasally. "I'm sthick agaid!"

Aragorn blinked with a frown, his half-asleep mind not grasping his friend's words. When he realized why, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Whath so fuddy?" Legolas asked, trying to hide a smile.

Shaking his head with a smile, Aragorn came closer, feeling his friend's forehead. It was warm, but only slightly. "Do you have anymore symptoms?"

"Headache," Legolas said, closing his eyes and leaning back against the pillows. "Sore throat. Aragord, you don't think-"

"No," said the human. "It's not likely that you have the same sickness as a few months ago. This is probably just a cold."

Legolas sighed with relief, but it turned into a cough.

It sounded dry to Aragorn, likely caused by his sore throat. "Sit forward," he said, wanting to be sure.

Legolas obeyed, and Aragorn listened to his lungs. He heard nothing amiss, and gave his own relieved sigh. "I'll go get ada," he said.

Legolas nodded, blowing his nose again. "You should not get too close," he said. "I don't want you to catch it."

"Don't worry about me," said the human, as he walked towards the door. "I'll be fine."

He was wrong.

The next morning, Aragorn awoke with the same cold. Legolas had felt guilty, thinking that it was his fault that his friend was now sick, but Aragorn reassured him that if that was the case, it would've taken a few more days before he would've become ill. Legolas had been relieved to hear that.

Aragorn took his pillow and blanket and plopped himself on the couch in Legolas' room while the twins took care of them…or rather, tortured them.

"I don't need anything, Elrohir!" said Aragorn, putting the pillow over his head. "Just leave me—achoo!—alone, please."

"I need something," said Legolas, to Elladan.

"What's that?" the older twin asked.

"Please try to convince my father that I'm not dying!"

It had taken much talk, but the elven-King had finally believed that this time, Legolas truly had a harmless cold. It was a long-lasting one, but a cold nonetheless.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, and Legolas began to wonder if the vanwacoi antidote was useless. Three months! he thought, as he fell asleep one night. It has been three months since I received the antidote! Will I never regain what I have lost?

The next morning, Legolas woke to the sound of strong winds. Turning over in bed, he looked towards his balcony to see snow swirling through the air. Will winter never end? he thought. He'd loved snow all his life, but since the vanwacoi had destroyed his tolerance to cold, he desperately wished for warmer weather.

Rolling out of bed, he shuffled towards the balcony, opening the door and expecting to freeze.

He didn't.

Opening his eyes wider and straightening up, he realized that the freezing air had not bit into his skin. Blinking, he suddenly realized that when he'd awoken, his eyes had been open.

Backing away from the balcony, he felt himself start to shake. Has it finally returned? he wondered, nervously. After waiting for so long, am I really whole once more…or is this a dream?

Taking the deepest breath possible, he inhaled and exhaled without difficulty, not coughing at all. He did it again just to be sure, and his lungs didn't give even a twinge.

Raising his arms, he grasped his chest, trying to still his suddenly racing heart. His breath started to come short, but not due to the horrible lung condition.

Suddenly looking at his right arm, Legolas lifted it, gasping when he was able to raise it all the way with no trace of pain. He lowered it again, realizing that his body felt stronger and healthier than it had in months.

"I'm cured," he whispered, almost unable to get the words out. "I'm cured!"

Smiling, Legolas ran out the door.