Hey everyone! Here's chapter 3!

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Legolas slept through the night and morning, waking just before midday. He blinked up at the ceiling, realizing that he felt better; he was still a little tired, but his head didn't hurt as badly, to his relief.

Turning his head, he saw Elrond and the twins standing around Aragorn. The sight alarmed him and he jumped up, nearly tripping over the chair that sat beside his bed.

Everyone turned at the sound, and Elrohir rushed to the other elf and took his arm.

"What is wrong!" Legolas asked, ignoring the newly forming bruise on his leg.

Elrohir sighed as he helped Legolas over towards Aragorn. He sat the elf in the chair that he'd vacated, before saying, "The blade was poisoned."

"What!" Legolas exclaimed. He reached out to grab Aragorn's arm, needing reassurance.

"I do not believe it to be deadly," Elrond told him. "Please be calm, Legolas."

The elf looked anything but; his eyes opened wide with panic. He reached over to feel his friend's forehead, finding Aragorn's fever to be higher than he remembered. Legolas' headache increased thanks to his anxiety, and he rubbed his head absentmindedly.

Elladan moved to the herb table and chose a small leaf, crushing and dropping it into a cup. He brought it to the bed and filled it with water. "Here, Legolas, have some water."

The Mirkwood Prince hadn't seen his friend's sly action, and he drank it without question. A minute later, he felt his pounding heartbeat start to slow and his headache ease somewhat. He took a deep breath, realizing that the other elf had given him a calming herb.

"You should eat, Legolas," said Elrond, watching him.

Legolas was too worried to eat, but he didn't bother refusing, knowing that they would force him.

"I'll fetch lunch," said Elrohir, leaving the room.

Legolas watched Aragorn, wishing that he would wake.

"You fret overmuch, Legolas," said Elrond, feeling sorry for the younger elf, especially considering the circumstances. "Once his fever breaks, he will be fine."

"You are sure of this?" said Legolas. "You are sure that his fever will break?"

Elrond reached over and uncovered the wound. "See? The poison does not spread."

Legolas leaned forward; inspecting the wound, seeing how uneven his stitching had been because of his anxiety.

Elrond watched Legolas, sensing the guilt within the elf. "You have nothing to blame yourself for, penneth."

Legolas looked at him, his normally bright eyes appearing dulled. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, sighing.

Elladan sat on the chair arm and wrapped his arm around Legolas' shoulders, as Elrond came around the bed and sat on it, facing the younger elf.

"Is it your fault that the orc knocked you down?" he asked.

"Yes."

Elrond blinked, not expecting that for an answer.

"I was not fast enough to avoid the blow," said Legolas, looking down at his fidgeting hands. "If I had been, Aragorn would not have had to intervene and save me."

Elrond reached out and put his hand over Legolas', stilling them. "You are one of the best fighters that I have ever seen. Is that not so, Elladan?"

The older twin nodded. "Aye, much better than Elrohir."

Legolas smiled slightly at Elladan's attempt at humor at only including his non-present twin in the statement.

Elladan chuckled and briefly tightened the grasp on his friend, in a quick hug.

Elrond smiled at the sight. "If there was any way that you could have avoided the blow, you would have," he said. "If you had seen Aragorn knocked down, you would have done the same thing that he did. Would you not?"

Legolas nodded without hesitation.

"And you would have been glad to have spared your friend the wound, happily taking it upon yourself to keep him safe—"

"All the while telling him to stop blaming himself," Elladan cut in.

Legolas nodded again, still looking down at his hands and Elrond's.

The healer reached out his other hand and tipped up Legolas' chin. "Cease looking so sad, penneth, Aragorn lives and will for a very long time; he has quite a destiny ahead of him…and so do you."

Legolas blinked, the words giving him hope. He smiled, and Elrond chuckled.

"Much better," said the ancient elf, returning the smile.

Someone suddenly lightly kicked the door and Legolas jumped, startled. He blushed slightly at his reaction, and Elladan quickly crossed to the door and opened it, finding Elrohir balancing two trays in his arms. He took one and they approached the bed, sitting them on the herb table.

Elrohir handed his father a bowl of broth to feed Aragorn, and he picked something up for Legolas to see. "If the elfling eats everything on his plate, he gets this!"

It was a strawberry-filled pastry.

Legolas' stomach growled, and he realized that he hadn't eaten since the morning of the attack.

Elladan handed the elf a dish containing eggs and honey-covered lembas bread, sitting a cup beside him on the nightstand.

Legolas looked at Aragorn, wishing that he was awake and eating with them. He sighed, and suddenly the pastry floated directly before his face.

"If you eat that, you get this!" Elrohir reiterated.

Legolas made a face at him, smiling at the same time.

A few minutes later, Legolas was eating the pastry, inwardly sighing with bliss. Rivendell's cooks must've heard what had happened and just made them, for they were still warm.

"Good?" asked Elrohir.

Legolas nodded, smiling.

The younger twin reached over for the tray and picked up another dish. Removing the cover revealed more pastries, and he held it out to Legolas, smiling when the Mirkwood Prince took another.

"Do I get one?" Elladan asked, jokingly.

"Of course not," said Elrohir. "Not after what you said about me earlier."

Elladan visibly startled. "How did you know!"

"I heard you," said Elrohir, smirking.

"How?"

Elrohir gave no answer, eyes twinkling as he shoved a pastry into his mouth.

Elladan reached over to grab one, but Elrohir moved the dish away.

Legolas couldn't prevent himself from laughing.

Elrohir echoed it, handing the dish to his brother.

Elrond took a pastry off the dish before Elladan had a chance, smiling as he ate it. He was proud of his sons for cheering Legolas up despite their own worry for their brother.

Legolas was still smiling as he picked up his cup, taking a sip. He was surprised—but then again, not—to find that it was miruvor. He drank the strength-giving cordial down, replacing the empty cup on the nightstand. When he looked up, everyone was staring at him.

"Feel better?" Elladan asked.

Legolas nodded; his stomach was full, his headache felt better, and his spirits were lightened. "Aye, much. Hannon le, mellyn-nin."

Elrond patted his arm, and everyone smiled.

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'mellyn-nin' : 'my friends', plural