Legolas watched himself wander though a beautiful forest that resembled what he'd always dreamed that Mirkwood might look like had it not had to endure the ever-present threat of the Shadow for most of his life. 'Dream,' he realized hazily as he followed the other him down a path that weaved through the trees and brought them to Minas Tirith in a few short strides. 'This is a dream.' Or perhaps it was a vision – he'd always had a difficult time distinguishing between the dreams and feelings of everyday life and the prophetic visions that occasionally came to him. That didn't seem likely, but the notion that what he was watching at the moment was more than just his imagination was too powerful to ignore.

The other Legolas, oblivious to his counterpart's musings, was moving through the streets at a strangely remarkable pace, searching. Had he lost something or was he the one that was lost? The latter made more sense to Legolas, for he was lost himself and didn't know the way to return to his family and friends, but the other was looking all around. He was missing…a child? A chill wind blew and told him that his guess was correct. It made him want to scream and cry in despair even though he couldn't quite remember why. 'I can help him,' he decided, and did indeed start to follow his other self down the streets toward a darker part of the city when he was stopped in his tracks by a most joyous sight.

A child! A child was running past them and in the opposite direction. Legolas couldn't see his face, only his long dark hair and distinctively pointed ears, but he was certain that this was the lost child that they were seeking. 'There he is!' he cried, or else he thought; it was hard to tell and it didn't matter anyway because the other Legolas didn't heed a word of it. As the child ran away, toward a light, his other self continued on his path, walking deeper into shadow.

Legolas was torn for a second – he didn't want to abandon his counterpart to wandering in darkness all alone, but an overwhelming pain seized his body every time he thought of not following the child. If only the other elf could hear him and turn around! Knowing that the wind would only carry away any shout he was going to send to his other self, Legolas turned away from the shadows and began his journey on the same path that the child had taken. Almost immediately he felt an odd sensation on his forehead that was cool and comforting at the same time. It felt like contact, as if someone – a small someone, if the way that the sensation didn't quite cover all of his forehead was any indication – was touching him with his hand and trying to draw him in further toward his goal. He walked closer to his destination, to the hand, and most of all to the child, and the light seemed to expand and dissolve the world around him…

As his vision came into focus the first thing he saw was the source of the light: the sun was shining through a window in his bedchamber. No, that wasn't right; the window was in the wrong place, or else his bed was. Had Aragorn moved their bed while he was asleep in it? That was an old trick that the twins used to play on him when he visited Rivendell, back when Elrond and Mithrandir were still in Middle-earth and they could still pretend that the dangers of the outside world not totally change their lives. What a peculiar thing for his husband to do now.

The hand against his forehead shifted to stroke the hair on the top of his head and Legolas moved his gaze to see to whom it belonged. He was surprised to see Pippin standing over him – what was he doing in the royal bedchamber? For his part, the hobbit smiled in relief when he realized that Legolas was awake and staring at him.

"Good morning!" Pippin greeted in a soft voice that struggled to be light and cheerful. "The one week we go out of the city and you wind up in here, huh? I guess all sorts of excitement happen around here once the hobbits go away."

"Pippin, is he awake?" Aragorn's voice came from somewhere just out of his line of vision. His face suddenly appeared beside of Pippin's and it looked as strained as his voice had sounded. "Mela nin, amin mela lle," he breathed tearfully. "How are you feeling?"

"I love you too, Aragorn," replied Legolas in a hoarse whisper. "Why did you move our bed? Did Elladan and Elrohir tell you about the pranks they used to pull like this? I liked it better where it was before; the sun shines right in my eyes when it's in this spot."

Aragorn moved swiftly to the other side of the bed, blocking the sunlight with his body. "I'll have someone move this to a better position immediately," he promised as he picked up the elf's hand, kissed his fingers, and pressed the palm against his bearded cheek. "But I don't want you thinking that I moved our bed to tease or torment you. We're not in our chambers in the citadel, my love."

"Then where" – began Legolas as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His voice cut off when he beheld the entire room for the first time since waking. "I'm in that awful room in the Houses of Healing," he groaned.

The three other beings in the room – Merry, Sam, and Eowyn – came forward and scattered until they were all standing around the bed. "Now I wouldn't be calling it awful, Mr. Legolas, begging your pardon," said Sam, his eyes twinkling as he lectured now that his worries had been partially lifted. "It appears to be a right nice place to stay if you have to be here."

"That's what makes it so terrible," responded Legolas dryly. His previous visits to that room had never called for him to stay overnight. They had, however, involved his body being poked and his knees apart and in the air while seemingly every healer in Gondor looked for the fabled birth opening to appear. "I hate being here."

"I can understand that," empathized Eowyn, remembering her restless feelings during her own lengthy stay after the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Merry nodded in agreement.

"Why am I here this time?" Legolas wondered aloud, rubbing his hands over his face. "I remember – pain. I was in a lot of pain."

"You became very ill while having lunch with Gimli and your father," Aragorn told him gently, though tension was present in his tone. "Do you remember anything else?"

Legolas forced his groggy mind to grasp at the puzzle pieces of memory that were floating around in his head and put them together. "We were talking about my wayward youth," he recalled. "Ada told Gimli that I looked like him after I smashed berries in my hair and turned it red."

Remembering fondly the night by the campfire that Legolas had told them that story, Pippin reached out and entwined a strand of the elf's golden hair around two fingers.

"I was laughing," continued Legolas, smiling at the little hobbit's nostalgic gesture, "and starting to tell him that back then I would have preferred to be a dwarf some days when" – panic swelled within him as the full force of the memory slammed into his mind – "when all of the sudden my stomach – I've never been in more physical pain before."

He grabbed his stomach but was only somewhat comforted when he felt that the hard swollen bulge was still there. "The baby! Ai Elbereth, is our son all right, Aragorn?"

"The healers have felt his movements, as have I," Aragorn informed him, "so we at least know that he still lives. What we don't know and do not dare to guess is if all of this came about because something was the matter with him or if this illness has affected his well being in any way. You're the only one with the ability to find that out. Tell me, please; what does our child tell you?"

Legolas closed his eyes, concentrating all of his thought and energy on connecting with the baby while listening for one distinct sound. He nearly wept for joy when he heard it. "I can hear his heart beating fast and strong," he declared. Aragorn let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and the tension in his face and frame visibly drained away. "He tells me that he is well, my love. I can't say that he's entirely happy that he had to endure so much, but he'll be fine."

"That's fantastic!" gasped Pippin, overjoyed. "You don't know how worried we've all been about you! Aragorn's been with you since almost the minute that you came here and we headed straight for this room this morning" –

"Morning?" interrupted Legolas.

"You slept through the afternoon and all night," explained Eowyn. "But that was to be expected considering all that you went through. Your father kept repeating that your body was just taking a little time to recover; I think he was trying to convince himself of that more than us. I've never seen him so emotional."

"Where is my father? And Gimli too, for that matter?" Being familiar with their overprotective natures, it didn't seem natural that they weren't there to hover over him. Legolas shuddered as he thought that perhaps whatever illness had befallen him had also affected them but then dismissed it as irrational.

"They've been with the healers for several hours now," answered Aragorn; "for almost as long as you've been here, in fact."

Maybe that thought hadn't been so irrational after all. "Not because of any need on their part," amended Aragorn quickly when he saw the look on his husband's face. "They've been discussing your condition with them, trying to tell them everything they remembered so that the healers will be able to figure out exactly what brought this illness on."

"I'll go with them," Merry volunteered. "King Thranduil and Gimli wouldn't be too happy if we waited much longer to tell them that you're awake. I'll bet the healers want to talk to you too."

Legolas sighed as the hobbit sprinted out of the room. "I must be running those healers ragged," he said. "What a way to learn all about elf bodies and male pregnancies! I wish Elladan and Elrohir were here to handle all of this."

"You'll get your wish soon enough," said Aragorn wryly. "I've already sent out an errand runner to Rivendell with a message that basically says: "Stop procrastinating and get your lazy behinds back to Minas Tirith with your answers or your books, or both."

"Aragorn!"

"They'll find it amusing," protested the Man, smiling under his husband's scold. In truth he hadn't written it that way to be funny but because he was wracked with fear. The twins would be able to see that and they would understand the urgency of the summons. "It was necessary too. The healers of Gondor are gifted and well-trained, of course, but this is beyond their skill right now. I'll be most relieved when you are back in the care of my brothers."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Aragorn's stomach sank a bit when Thranduil, Gimli, the healing woman Ioreth, and the warden of the Houses filed into the room behind Merry. The expressions on their faces were grim; with Gimli's drained of all color and Thranduil's slightly green. Obviously they at least had a guess as to what the cause of Legolas' mysterious illness might be and it was something unsettling. The king himself didn't have a clue what it was – Thranduil and Gimli had rushed right past him on their way to see the healers the previous day with only a shout that they had remembered something that could have been important. Wanting to remain as close to Legolas as possible and not wanting to hinder anything that could help him and the baby, Aragorn hadn't stopped or pursued them to find out more. He unconsciously pulled his husband closer.

Despite his current emotional state, Thranduil managed to smile when he witnessed for himself that his son was awake and alert. "My Little Greenleaf," he cried out in relief as he rushed to Legolas' side. Aragorn let go so that the two elves could embrace. "I was so concerned for you and my little grandson. I swear that this will not happen again as long as I have life in my body."

"Ada," groaned Legolas in an exaggerated long-suffering tone. How very like his father to believe that he could protect him from becoming ill. "I don't think that any of us have any say in the matter of my health. I'm pregnant! All of this probably happened for some silly reason, such as my body overreacting to not having all of my healing capacity or that I'm somehow overexerting myself. Although I don't see what I'm doing too much of these days unless it's sleeping or breathing…"

"That's not quite what happened, from what we've gathered," Gimli spoke up as he walked forward to stand beside the elven king. Placing a firm hand on Legolas' arm he added, "It's good to see you well again and we're going to make sure that you stay that way."

"Not you too, my friend! Of course I'm going to continue to be healthy," argued Legolas, his wavering voice at odds with his brashly unconcerned words. It sounded as if the healers had determined that his illness had passed, but he was growing progressively fearful. What exactly were his father and Gimli implying? "The baby is fine. I can hear his heartbeat, feel him moving, and sense his life. I'm better too..."

Aragorn swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat when he heard Legolas' voice trail off. He berated himself for his selfishness; would he always act like a child when it mattered most, thinking only of what he wanted and not what was best for others? As a healer he should have realized that Legolas needed rest and not a room full of people to exhaust him by making him put on a brave act! "Are you feeling unwell, my love?" he asked tensely. "Would you like some of us to leave, or all of us? Do you need something? Name anything and I'll make sure that you get it."

"A generous offer, but a little grand under the circumstances," smiled Legolas as he turned toward Aragorn and squeezed his hands reassuringly. "The only things that plague me now are a sore throat and feeling a little lightheaded, but a pitcher of water and a little food should take care of that."

The warden of the Houses cleared his throat as Ioreth's face blanched, Gimli bit his lip, and Thranduil ran a slender hand over his son's hair. "My king, my prince," said the warden hesitantly.

"What is it?" asked Aragorn, his nerves overwhelmed and frazzled. He tightened his grip on the elf's hands. "It was the food wasn't it? There are some foods that his body cannot handle in his current condition." Please let it be as simple as that! "That's easily remedied, don't you agree mela?"

The baby kicked and Legolas recalled the pain and fear he'd experienced the previous day. How could just eating something put them both in so much distress? He'd only had a bit of fruit, water, and – "It was the honey," he whispered. Thranduil nodded in confirmation. "But it's not just a matter of avoiding it, is it?"

"Are you familiar with the irila plant?" questioned Ioreth.

No one answered right away, due more to their pondering as to the reason behind the question rather than their lack of knowledge on what she spoke of. "It's a flower," Sam finally answered for everyone. "There are a lot of them in my garden, and in some of the ones around here too. Right pretty they are when they bloom."

"Do you know what it tastes like?"

"I've heard that its flavor is – sickeningly sweet," said Legolas. His heart twisted at the memory of the honey's unusual taste, for now he understood. "But I've never actually tried one before. There is an old wives' tale that it's – it's deadly to eat."

The warden closed his eyes briefly at the sound of the sharp intake of Aragorn's breath. "As we've learned in the past few years, the old wives have a tendency to remember what needs to be remembered when everyone else has forgotten," he stated. "We cannot say it for an absolute certainty, but the description of your symptoms, the illness' sudden and violent onset, and our own examinations tell us that this is most likely. We are forced to conclude that you were poisoned with the irila flower."

To be continued…

A/N: The irila flower is something I totally pulled out of my butt (where I tend to keep most of my ideas) because I couldn't find a poisonous plant in nature or in Tolkien's work that would do all that I want it to do. I admit that I didn't look terribly hard, but I did try.

There have been some guesses and questions out there about who exactly is responsible for the poisoning. I love hearing all of them and only want to remind you that no one's been officially named yet (though I do have a culprit all picked out), so anything's possible…. :)