Merry Christmas, everyone! ;)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Legolas," Aragorn said, gently wiping the elf's hot forehead. "Please wake, my friend, you have slept long enough."

The elf gave no reply, lying motionless and pale.

Aragorn sighed, reaching over to feel Legolas' abdomen again. Some of the swelling had gone down, to his immense relief. He fervently prayed that his friend would no longer feel such horrible pain when he finally woke.

A few hours later, the elf's fever finally broke.

Tears of joy filled Aragorn's eyes and he lifted his friend from the bed, carefully sitting him in a chair as he changed the sweat-drenched sheets. After that, he brought Legolas into the adjoining room and quickly bathed him and dressed him in clean nightclothes before again laying him on the bed.

Legolas looked better, not as deathly pale.

Aragorn pulled the elf's wet hair out from under his head and laid it above him on the pillow to dry. He then placed a wet cloth on his friend's forehead, in hope of abating the light fever that still remained.

The door suddenly opened as Faramir came back. Aragorn looked at him, frowning at the Steward's expression.

In Faramir's arms lay a blue robe. Red stains could be seen on it, and Aragorn stood. "Whose is it?" he asked.

Faramir looked shocked. He hesitated, seeming unable to speak. "It belongs to Marzek," he finally said.

Aragorn's eyebrows shot up. Marzek was one of his advisors; he'd been Denethor's before Aragorn and was like an uncle to Faramir.

Saying nothing, Faramir took the robe and held it up. Strawberry paste covered many areas of it, as if the man had accidentally spilled it on himself.

Aragorn had hoped to find clothes stained with the fruit, but he didn't expect to actually find anything.

"Before you ask," said Faramir. "He does not like strawberry. He would not have gone to the kitchens to eat some."

Aragorn stood and approached the Steward, taking the sleeve and sniffing the red stain. It was definitely the strawberry paste.

"I cannot believe that he has done this!" Faramir exclaimed, anger replacing some of his shock. "Why would he try to kill you and Legolas?"

Aragorn shook his head, puzzled himself. "I know not."

Faramir sighed, sitting in the chair beside the bed and looking at the elf. "He looks better!"

Aragorn nodded. "His fever is nearly gone."

Faramir smiled, but it was replaced with a frown as he thought back to Marzek. He stood with a sigh, walking to the table and taking the bag that the herbs had been in. He stuffed the robe inside and headed for the door. "I shall arrest Marzek, and take him to prison."

Aragorn watched him go; opening his mouth to speak, but he could find no words.

Faramir walked down the hall towards Marzek's chamber, still unable to believe that he had done such a thing. He came to the door and was about to knock, but it opened before he had a chance.

"Faramir!" said Marzek. "How are you today, my boy?"

"Fine," he replied.

Marzek blinked. "Is something wrong? I have not seen the King all day; he has not taken ill, has he?"

Faramir shook his head; all hope that this was a dreadful mistake dashed by such an obvious question. "He is fine, I was just with him."

Marzek appeared puzzled for an instant, but quickly covered it. "That is good. Have you learned yet what has befallen the elf?"

The way he said 'the elf' instead of Legolas' name sent warning bells through Faramir's mind. He'd never heard Marzek speak of elves…had he some dislike for them? "Legolas is not doing well," he lied.

Marzek nodded, not looking concerned in the least. "Pity."

Faramir sighed; reaching his hands into the bag that was slung around his shoulder. "Have you supped yet?" he asked. "The King gave me a pastry earlier, but I find that I am still hungry."

Marzek stopped dead. "A pastry!"

Faramir nodded. "Someone brought it in his room, but he did not want it."

Marzek looked at him, before facing forwards again, looking dazed. His breathing-rate had increased, and he swallowed convulsively.

Faramir needed no more proof. "Why did you do it?"

Marzek looked at him again. "Do what?"

In answer, Faramir took the dirty robe out of the bag.

Marzek stared at it.

"Legolas recovers," said Faramir. "After we determined that the pastry he ate had contained poison, I found one in the King's chamber. He was able to detect the Purple Weed, and gave Legolas the antidote." He paused, watching the older man. "Why did you do it?" he asked again. "How could you do such a thing?"

"I did it for you!" Marzek exclaimed. "After your father and brother died, the throne should have been yours! It was stolen out from under you! With the King's death, it would fall to you!"

Faramir shook his head, bewildered. "It would fall to the Queen."

"Not if she hadn't gone on her trip," said Marzek, bitterly.

Faramir gaped, in utter shock. "You would murder a woman!"

"An elf," said Marzek. "Yes! To give you what is yours!"

Faramir shook his head, words escaping him. "But Legolas…why did you poison Legolas? Have you any idea how terribly he has suffered from your poison!"

"Of course I do," Marzek said, coldly. "As for why…he controls Ithilien, does he not?" said Marzek. "With the death of the King and Queen, he might simply extend his rule and take the throne of Gondor for himself."

Faramir had heard enough. Drawing his sword, he pointed it at Marzek's throat. "You are under arrest!" he said. "For the attempted murder of the Prince of Mirkwood, and for conspiracy to murder the King and Queen of Gondor!"

"You would arrest me?" Marzek said, surprised at the concept. "The man who treated you as a son for so many years? Denethor was not a father to you; I decided had compassion on the lonely son of the Steward and treated you as my own!"

Faramir sighed. "I no longer count you as family," he said, sadly. "You tried to kill my friends, to give me a throne that I have no desire to sit upon!"

Marzek was silent for a minute. "And so, I perish," he finally said, looking at the floor. "Execution is now my price for trying to help you get what you deserve."

Faramir's sword wavered, and he couldn't help but feel pity for the old, deluded man.

Marzek suddenly took a step, to flee, but Faramir's sword came up again, stopping him.

"Walk," said Faramir, angrily.

Sighing, Marzek had no choice but to head towards the prison.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aragorn looked up from Legolas' bedside as Faramir re-entered the room. "Was it truly Marzek?" he asked. "There was no mistake?"

The expression on Faramir's face was proof enough. "It was. He admitted it."

Aragorn blinked. "How did you manage that?"

Faramir smiled slightly. "I told him that you had given me a strawberry pastry."

Aragorn shared the smile, amazed at the Steward's quick mind.

"He is in prison," Faramir said, with a sigh. "Awaiting your judgment."

"Did he tell you why he did it?"

Faramir nodded, hesitating a moment before telling him.

Aragorn was shocked at what he heard, and grew enraged that not only was Legolas needlessly targeted, but also his wife.

"Forgive me," Faramir said, hanging his head. "This would not have happened if not for I."

Aragorn frowned. "This is no fault of yours! Rather, you should be commended for your quick work during this investigation. You discovered the second pastry, you found the man responsible, and Legolas lives."

"Do I?" they heard.

Aragorn and Faramir were both startled at the sudden voice.

"Legolas!" Aragorn happily exclaimed, grabbing his friend's arm. "How do you feel?"

Legolas looked at them through half-opened eyes. He blinked a few times before answering. "As if…an oliphaunt…fell on me." His voice was slow and weak-sounding.

Aragorn winced. For once, Legolas had not lied and said that he was 'fine'. "Do you still have pain?"

Legolas nodded slightly. "Aye, but not…nearly as bad…as earlier."

Aragorn was relieved at the elf's words.

"Earlier? You mean yesterday," said Faramir.

"Ah," said Legolas, showing no outward reaction to the Steward's words. "Yesterday, then." His eyes closed wearily.

"Rest," said Aragorn, patting his arm. "I will get you some painkilling herbs, and then you can sleep."

Legolas gave no reply, and Aragorn moved to the table.

"We found the man responsible for this, Legolas," said Faramir. "You no longer need to fear for your life."

"Good," Legolas whispered. He asked for no details, showing the humans how disoriented the poor elf still was.

Aragorn returned with the herbs and helped Legolas drink them, after which the elf quickly fell back to sleep.

TBC