Chapter Four

Hunting Up Nightmares

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Legolas could feel the heat, blazing hot and furious. There were screams echoing all around.

He opened his eyes slowly and saw the fair elven city burning all around him. There were men everywhere, like insects, scurrying here and there, dragging unconscious elven forms along behind them, dragging them into slavery.

He tried to get up, to rise and fight this injustice, to put out the fires and drive away the men, but found he could not rise. He looked down to see his hands and feet bound, chained so he could not move. He was in a cart, with several other still unconscious forms, one of which he recognized…it was if the men were hunting them down, as if they were valuable property instead of living beings…

The cart began to move, and he looked back behind the boards, and saw the whole city in flames…his home burning…saw the dead bodies…the blood flowing like their own rivers…

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"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Legolas sat bolt upright, a nauseous feeling permeating his whole body.

The nightmares were back.

He leaned over the edge of the bed, finding his water bucket, and emptied the contents of his stomach and then some into it. He felt his body shaking, himself coughing, still gagging, his body trying to rid him of every last thing he had eaten all week it seemed.

He took a shallow breath, shaking horribly, his body numb and weak beyond his own reckoning. He had never felt this before in his entire life… and he was terrified.

He sat still for a moment, trying to calm himself, but only ended up vomiting again.

He didn't know what was going on, but he knew whatever it was it was not good.

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Haldir awoke, a feeling of dread overcoming his senses. Something was most definitely not right. He listened to the silence for a moment before it was broken by a horrible retching sound coming from Legolas's room.

Haldir jumped up, and rousted Remrethriel out of her bed.

"What is it Haldir?" she asked sleepily, her red hair sticking up every which way.

"Legolas is ill, go fetch Arwen and the Lord Aragorn."

"Ill? How so?"

The retching sound came again and Haldir grimaced.

"Just go, quickly."

Remrethriel nodded, her eyes wide, and scurried off to fetch their master.

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Aragorn felt himself being raised from sleep. At first he thought, it was Nerin, but when he looked next to him in bed, she was not there. He blinked groggily and looked up to see Aphara standing above him a worried look on her face.

"My lord, I apologize for waking you but Inzil has taken terribly ill…"

"Ill? I thought it was not possible for you to become ill."

Aphara looked at him apprehensively.

"So did we."

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Legolas could tell there were others there with him now, but who exactly he could not tell. He was still shaking, and was still highly nauseous, but he was not as bad as he had been.

He heard a kind voice, and someone was pushing him back up on the bed. He opened his eyes to see Haldir, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Be still Legolas, help is coming."

Legolas merely nodded, then dropped back onto his pillow, his eyes closing. He felt a cool cloth on his forehead, and opened his eyes to see a concerned looking Arwen looking over him, trying her best to battle the fever that was beginning to form.

He felt his eyes closing, the dark sliding in around him…the warm dark…

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Aragorn could tell he was dreadfully ill as soon as he entered the room. Inzil was pale, and shivering as if he was freezing cold, but was burning with high fever. His blue eyes were slightly glazed, and sweat covered his thin body.

He looked from Varin, who stood watching vigil over him, to Nerin, who was trying desperately to keep him from over heating.

"Varin, go fetch a healer, quickly, and bring him here."

Varin nodded, and left promptly, not wanting to lose any time that might help save his friends life.

Aragorn moved to take his place, kneeling down and taking the poor creature's hand. He held it tightly, trying to comfort him without any words.

Surprisingly, he did calm down. He stopped shaking quite as badly, and his breathing evened out leaving, were it not for the dreadfully high fever, an illusion of sleep.

He looked at Inzil, his silk spun hair strewn messily, yet beautiful across his pillow, and his eyes shining with inner light, and felt a sense of awe. This creature was stunning, and didn't deserve to be so ill, or even sick at all. He deserved to be well, and able to enjoy his life…He was too fiery, too willful, and too wonderful to die.

Aragorn decided then that he would make sure that Inzil lived, and lived out the rest of his life well, if it was the last thing he did.

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Legolas felt groggy, as if he had been running a great distance without stopping and had only lain down to rest for a few moments the whole trip. He rubbed his eyes, trying to make his eyes focus. He sat up slowly, his head swimming, and a slight nausea overtook him. He groaned not wanting to move any further, but knowing he had to.

His door opened slightly, and Arwen peered in at him. She smiled when she saw that he was awake, and entered his room, quietly closing the door behind her.

"I'm glad to see you are feeling better."

"So am I…What happened?"

"You fell dreadfully ill, and we were all so worried, Aragorn sent for a healer, then practically refused to leave your side until he was well assured that you would live…"

Legolas stared at her, puzzled.

"He wanted to make sure I lived? Even after I tried to escape? But why?"

Arwen smiled again, then sat down next to him.

"Because, believe it or not, he cares very deeply for you, Legolas, he cares for all of us."

Legolas just sat, deep in his own thoughts. Arwen smiled and put her palm on his forehead.

"You have cooled down quite a bit, but you should probably stay in bed for the rest of the day, so you don't have a relapse."

"Why was I sick?"

It was Arwen's turn to look puzzled.

"We don't know, but…" she lowered her voice and leaned in closer to him, "I will pray to the Valar, if they have not gone deaf to our pleas, that it will not happen again."

Legolas nodded, and then leaned back against his pillow. Arwen rose and opened the door again, the turned back to him for a moment before leaving.

"I'll tell Aragorn that you are feeling better."

Legolas just nodded, then leaned back further, lost in his thoughts.

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"My Lord?"

Aragorn looked up from his papers, to see Nerin standing in front of his desk, a slight smile on her face.

"Inzil is awake, and feeling much better."

Aragorn let out a relieved sigh. He had been worried almost to his own illness about Inzil's health.

"Is he ready to see anyone?"

"Not yet my lord, he is still not fully recovered, and is resting right now."

"Alright. Please send him my regards, and hopes that he is soon well."

"Yes my lord."

Nerin bowed slightly, and then exited again, still smiling. Aragorn watched her go; wishing he could go speak to Inzil, and find out exactly what had been ailing him. The healers had even been baffled as to what caused the illness, but Aragorn was sure he would know. There was a gentle knock on his study door.

Aragorn sighed again, then called for the person to let themselves in. Faramir stepped in, a bleak look on his face.

"I heard one of your slaves took ill, I wanted to inquire about his health."

Aragorn chuckled.

"I doubt that the health of my slave is the only thing that has brought you here," he bade Faramir to sit, "but he is doing fine."

"Well no, that is not all. My slave, the newest one, there is something different about him. If anything, if he were human, I would dare to count him among my friends. But I am not sure he feels the same way. He seems almost skittish around us…"

"Yes…"

"He is more…well…human than me sometimes, and he definitely has more insight on many subjects that I thought I knew well… but he is shy, and almost refuses to open up to me, to let me know anything about him…"

"It seems to me, Faramir," said Aragorn leaning forward, "That you count him as some sort of confidant. If I were you, I would try to get him to trust me in the same way. It may take some time, but in the end it will be well worth it."

Faramir sat for a moment lost in thought, then rose abruptly, a reassured look in his eyes.

"Thank you Aragorn, you have helped me out quite a bit…"

He bowed shortly and left the room, off to fix whatever problem had been perplexing him.

Aragorn laughed at the absurdity of it all and went back to work, thinking of what he planned to do the next day.

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Yeah…poor Legolas. He is starting to have some serious problems….

Thank You to The Great and Powerful Oz for your review! Yesh. They are spirited, very spirited….hehe.