Hours later, night had fallen, and everyone was tired.

Aragorn sat in a chair beside the bed, fast asleep. The twins were similarly dozing, having had hardly any rest in the past few days. Thranduil was lying on the bed beside Legolas, nodding-off occasionally, but too anxious over his son's condition to get any real sleep. Heredil had succumbed to slumber even before Aragorn; his wound, lack of rest, and emotional turmoil having served to exhaust him. The only one awake was Elrond.

The healer watched over everyone quietly, extremely tired himself. The constant care of Legolas over the past days was difficult even for an elf, who couldn't last much longer with no sleep.

The door suddenly opened, surprising him. An elf's head peeked through, and Elrond saw that it was one of the healers.

Standing from where he sat, he quietly made his way to the door. "What is it?" he whispered.

"The man speaks," the elf whispered back.

"Stay here," said Elrond, not wanting to leave Legolas 'alone'.

The healer nodded, and Elrond left the room, quickly hurrying down the hall.

When he entered the healing room, he found another healer bent over the man, holding him still.

"He suffers a fever," said the elf.

Elrond removed the cloth from the man's forehead, finding his temperature higher than he liked.

"No…" the man suddenly said, turning his head. "Do not…do this, Tanek…"

Elrond replaced the cloth, listening.

"Do not," the man said again. "Please…"

Suddenly, he stilled, going quiet.

Elrond quickly felt for a pulse, relieved when he found one. "What did he say before my arrival?"

"He repeatedly called for this 'Tanek'," the elf replied. "Mayhap a friend, or brother."

Elrond nodded. "Most likely." Sighing, he straightened again. "Make note of anything else that he says, and fetch me if he wakes."

The healer nodded.

Taking another look at the injured man, Elrond searched his face, noting his youth and unexpectedly innocent appearance. 'Do not do it,' he said…Elrond thought.

Frowning, he left the room.

The healer that Elrond had left in Legolas' room was standing over the injured elf when Elrond re-entered, rewetting the cloth that lay on the Prince's forehead.

Quietly walking away from the bed, the healer whispered, "All quiet," to Elrond.

Elrond nodded, thanking the elf for staying.

The healer nodded in reply before leaving the room.

Walking towards the bed, Elrond saw that everyone was still deep in slumber. Legolas was still in the same position, having not moved. His face was extremely pale.

Elrond gently felt the pulse on the side of his neck, finding it thankfully steady. He sat on the bed and watched Legolas sleep, so grateful that he had survived his terrible injuries.

Trying to stifle a yawn, Elrond eventually rose and went over to the window, looking out on the night. He leaned against the frame, thinking back to the odd words that the man had spoken in his sleep. A breeze came into the window, and he closed his eyes as it caressed his face…

With a sudden jerk, Elrond found that he'd dozed off. Not knowing how much time had passed, he looked over his shoulder towards Legolas, meeting with an unexpected sight.

The young elf's body was no longer limp, but tensed up, his eyes clenched shut tightly and a wince in his features.

Legolas was awake, and in severe pain.

Elrond straightened up so fast that he accidentally whacked his elbow on the window frame. Wincing himself, he quickly rushed over to the bed. "Legolas!" he whispered, gently touching his face.

The injured elf opened his eyes, and Elrond's heart broke when a few tears escaped them.

"Oh penneth," said Elrond, wiping them away. "Why did you not say anything?"

Legolas moved his eyes towards his father, who was asleep beside him.

Elrond sighed, wishing that Legolas wasn't so self-sacrificing. Quickly going to the table, he mixed some strong painkilling herbs and brought the cup back.

Legolas bit down on his bottom lip as Elrond carefully lifted him up. He fought for control over himself, not wanting to make any sound that would wake his father or the others. He didn't want to be fussed over—or watched—while he suffered.

Elrond fed him the medicine and carefully laid him back down again, using a towel to dry the new tears of pain that Legolas had shed. "Sleep," he whispered, brushing his fingers over the younger elf's cheek in a comforting gesture.

Legolas closed his eyes, wishing desperately for slumber, to escape the pain that consumed his body.

Ever so softly, Elrond started to sing, giving Legolas something else to focus on while the herbs began their work.

One corner of Legolas' mouth turned up in a slight smile as he recognized the old lullaby that Elrond frequently sang to him when he was an elfling. Before long, he was asleep, the song staying with him in his dreams.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day dawned wet and stormy. The thunder was very loud, and everyone hoped that it wouldn't wake Legolas, who was still asleep, even though the sleeping herbs had long-ago worn off.

Thranduil stayed lying on the bed with a gentle grip around his son, hoping that Legolas would sense his comforting presence and not be startled or disoriented when he awoke.

Elrond occasionally went to the healing wing to check on the human, who was not doing well. His fever hadn't abated, and he was as motionless as Legolas had been.

The injured elf was doing slightly better, as his fever had dropped further. His body seemed to not want to let go of it completely, and Aragorn couldn't prevent a sigh as he rewet the cloth on his friend's forehead.

Lightning suddenly flashed, and the resulting thunder was the loudest one yet. It sounded like an earsplitting crack rather than a rumble, for the lightning had left the sky and shot into the valley of Imladris.

Everyone was startled, but none as much as Legolas, whose body gave a violent jerk, making him let out a cry of pain.

"Hush, Legolas!" said Thranduil, reaching out a hand and laying it on his son's cheek. "It is just a storm. Be calm!"

Legolas' eyes were opened wide and his breath came in fast gasps.

Everyone rushed to their friend, worriedly crowding around the bed.

Legolas closed his eyes, moving his head towards his father, scrunching up his eyes from the pain of his wounds.

Elrond mixed some painkilling herbs and brought the cup to the bed, carefully lifting Legolas up and feeding it to him.

Legolas' eyes remained closed as he drank, but after Elrond laid him back down, he opened them.

Everyone smiled at him; glad to see that the injured elf was aware of his surroundings.

"How do you feel?" Aragorn asked, anxiously.

Legolas blinked a few times, taking as deep a breath as he could without increasing his pain too much. "Fine."

Everyone just stared at him for a minute, before seeing the slight smile on his face. They started to laugh, the tension broken.

"The truth, ion-nin," said Thranduil.

Legolas closed his eyes, exhaling lightly. Another sudden crack of thunder startled him again, and he reopened them. "The pain is less," he said.

Everyone gave great sighs of relief.

"It is about time," said Elladan. "You've been lying here for days."

Legolas frowned. "How many?"

"Nearly six," said Elrohir.

Legolas blinked his eyes, shocked.

"We've captured one of the humans," Heredil told him. "Mayhap we can soon discover the reason for this."

Legolas blinked. "Humans?"

"Men of my race have done this to you, Legolas," said Aragorn, sadly. "You have my apologies."

Legolas looked at him, frowning at his words. He tried to shift his left arm towards Aragorn, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

Aragorn saw what he was trying to do, and gently took his hand.

"Your apology is unnecessary," Legolas said. "It was…no fault…of your own…"

At that, his eyes closed tightly, as the movement had sent a wave of pain through his wounded body.

Aragorn clutched his hand tightly, lending silent comfort.

Legolas felt his father soothingly stroke his hair, and the wave of pain thankfully died down. "Six days?" he asked, opening his eyes again.

"It's a good thing that you are immortal," said Aragorn, smiling ruefully. "For you have spent most of your life so far unconscious!"

Elrond reached out to open Legolas' shirt, wanting to check his wound. He slid a knife through the bandage so as not to cause the elf more pain. "Your elven healing ability was hindered by how ill you became. You lost more blood than I've ever seen a living person endure, penneth."

Everyone peered at the stitched wound on Legolas' chest, and Legolas was shocked at its location, wondering how he'd survived.

"Good fortune was on your side once again, ion-nin," said Thranduil, his voice shaking from the thought of what could have been.

All that Legolas could do was give his father an encouraging smile, and the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was the same expression mirrored on his father's face.