Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reviews!

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Legolas slept through most of the journey that night, not realizing that Aragorn had given him a sleeping herb. The human doubted that the elf would've been able to sleep without it, due to the pain that being dragged would cause. The human had taken painkilling herbs himself; as large a dose as he dared, not wanting his own pain to interfere with getting Legolas out of the dangerous woods.

The hours passed faster than Aragorn thought they would, and when dawn came, he stopped, gently laying the wood down to the ground.

Legolas was still asleep, and made no movement.

Aragorn carefully sat down next to him, raising his knees and resting his arms on them, lowering his head as he tried to painfully regain his breath.

Legolas suddenly made a soft sound and Aragorn looked at him, amazed at his good timing in stopping. "Legolas?" he said, tiredly.

The elf slowly opened his eyes, looking disoriented.

Aragorn frowned, noting the dullness to his friend's eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Legolas winced, blinking for a few seconds before seeming to come to himself. He nodded, but the human suddenly saw that the Mirkwood Prince was visibly shivering.

Reaching out a hand, Aragorn felt the elf's forehead, to find his skin even colder than it had been before. It was very frightening, for such a thing was extremely abnormal not just for an elf, but for the situation, as Legolas had no internal bleeding and could not still be in shock; his elven healing ability would've healed it by now...unless the elf was bleeding inside…

Scooting closer, Aragorn ignored his own pain as he moved the cloak from the elf's midsection and opened his tunic before lifting Legolas' shirt. The stitches were holding well and the bruising hadn't spread, to his immense relief. Then what is wrong with him? he asked himself.

Legolas made no sound as Aragorn fixed his shirt and tunic, and re-covered him with the cloak.

"Legolas?" said Aragorn, looking at him intently. "How do you feel?"

"All right," the elf automatically answered.

Aragorn shook his head, nervously. "No, mellon-nin, I can see that you are not. You are too cold, and have grown paler. Something else ails you, and I need to know what it is! Please, tell me exactly what you feel!"

Legolas blinked again, the frightened tone of his friend's voice helping him to become more aware. He realized the seriousness of the situation when he saw that the summer sun was beating down on him while he shivered from cold. "Weak, mostly," he said, his words slow and sluggish.

"Has the pain increased?"

"No," Legolas answered, sounding relieved. He closed his eyes unexpectedly.

"Legolas?" Aragorn said, alarmed.

"Tired..." the elf whispered, not re-opening them.

A stab of fear shot through Aragorn's stomach, hurting nearly as much as his ribs. "You have slept for ten hours," he said, placing a hand on his friend's arm. "Stay awake, Legolas."

The elf opened his eyes, fear beginning to show in his eyes as he gained more lucidity. "What is…wrong…with me?" he asked, sounding very feeble.

"I am not sure," Aragorn said, checking his friend's pulse. The beat was slow and weak. "But now is not the time to hide any symptoms; is there anything that you have not told me? Anything at all?"

Legolas shook his head, his eyes closing again involuntarily as he winced.

Aragorn's heart pounded as he watched his friend. Unslinging the healing pack from his shoulder, he took out some painkilling herbs and gave them to the elf, taking some himself. He looked at the stimulant herbs, wondering if he should give his friend some of those also. He opted to do it, for Legolas was literally failing before his eyes. "Take this, Legolas," he said.

The elf obeyed, chewing slowly, his eyes still closed.

Aragorn fed his friend some of the rabbit meat, before pulling the vine around his shoulders again and walking on, praying that they would make it to Lake Town quickly without encountering any dangers.

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By the time night fell, Legolas had grown even weaker.

Aragorn was terrified, for he still could not determine was what wrong with the elf. He spent the entire night walking, full of the same stimulant herbs that he kept giving to Legolas. They kept him awake so that he could keep walking, and they kept Legolas from losing consciousness, through the elf laid in an exhausted stupor.

Morning rose once more, and Aragorn was again forced to stop. His legs were aching—though he knew that they'd be hurting even worse without the painkilling herbs that he needed for his ribs—but this was day number three, and though Legolas should've been showing improvement in his condition, he was instead showing further deterioration.

Sitting on the ground beside his friend, Aragorn sighed nervously. Legolas' eyes were half-closed and his breathing was shallow. "Legolas?"

The elf made no reply, but when the human called his name again, he weakly shifted his head. "Stop," he said.

Aragorn frowned. "Stop what?"

"Stop…squeezing…me," Legolas whispered.

"Squeezing you?" Aragorn echoed. "Nothing is squeezing you! Are the vines too tight?"

Legolas gave no reply, and Aragorn reached over to see if the vines needed loosening. He was shocked at what he found; Legolas was practically being crushed by them.

Aragorn gaped, knowing that there was no possible way that he had done this to his friend. He looked at the elf, not understanding what had happened, but Legolas' eyes were shut, his face paler than ever.

Aragorn grabbed at the vines, trying to loosen them, before suddenly noticing their color. They were a deep green where they touched the elf, though they'd been gray from the Shadow when Aragorn had found them.

Looking at the vine that he dragged the wood with, he saw that it was still gray, as were all the vines that weren't touching Legolas…though he could see with his own eyes that the green seemed to be spreading. A terrible thought entered Aragorn's mind, and it shocked him to the core—

The Shadow-afflicted vines were slowly sucking the life out of Legolas.

With a cry of fury, Aragorn unsheathed his sword and quickly cut the vines, throwing them off his friend. "Legolas!" he exclaimed, tapping his friend's face. "Legolas, wake! They no longer touch you; they will harm you no further!"

But Legolas gave no reply, lying motionless.

Aragorn made a sound of dismay, dropping his face into his hands. He couldn't believe that the tool that he'd found to help save his friend had nearly killed him—and apparently still could.

Aragorn lifted his face at the realization that Legolas could still die. What if he cannot survive with what strength he has left?

Not wasting another second, Aragorn carefully gathered his unconscious friend into his arms and walked on, ignoring his own pain as he prayed that the elf's precarious rib would hold.

TBC
I bet no one expected that, lol!