A/N March is here and with it comes another update! Guys...I had waaay to much fun writing this. More than I should have...

Disclaimer: not mine.

All Through The Night

"It has been far too long since I have slept in a real bed," Aragorn said tiredly, flopping down on the nearer of the two beds and closing his eyes.

Legolas snorted, cocking an eyebrow as he swung his pack off his shoulders and dropped it at the foot of the other bed. "And here I was thinking that you enjoyed sleeping on the ground." He turned slowly on the balls of his heels examining the shabby room.

It was bare for the most part, except for the two, rickety old beds and a wash stand. Pale, sun bleached curtains hung in front of a small window, which was the only current source of light. A lantern sat on the wash table, and a candle bracket was attached above each bed.

"This inn is almost as bad as that one you forced me to go into last summer, the one with the lice," Legolas stated as he surveyed the room, one hand on his hip.

"Oh, don't remind me," Aragorn moaned, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. "But you are being too harsh on this one. It is fairly decent, and well kept." His voice came out muffled and Legolas shot him a look.

"Maybe you are right." Legolas easily agreed, sinking gingerly to sit on the edge of his bed. One of his hands automatically came up and pressed against his left side, and he let out a hiss in-between gritted teeth.

Aragorn caught the sound and rolled over, opening one eye to peer anxiously at the elf. "Is it paining you?" he asked, to which Legolas shook his head. When the man raised an eyebrow and laid a disbelieving look on him, the elf smiled.

"It only pains me when I move," he admitted, looking away from the man.

"I would think it would hurt more than that." Aragorn said wearily, remembering the look of the gash that extended from the elf's lower left ribs down to just above his hip that he stitched early that morning. Or maybe it had been last night. He had really been focusing on what time it was when he had been working on it. The wound had been bleeding profusely despite that fact that it wasn't very deep.

This was part of the reason they had decided to spend the night in the nearest inn rather than out in the wild. The other reason was that an ever increasing number of orcs roamed the wild, and after the last orc attack wherein Legolas had been injured, they weren't comfortable with the possibility of having to fight off a large group.

"I'll get you some more painkillers." Aragorn said, examining the elf critically with both eyes now. Legolas' face was pale, and he could detect the faintest of trembling in the prince's fingers.

"Don't worry about it, I am alright." Legolas assured, but the man didn't listen. Pulling himself slowly up from his comfortable and relaxed position, he crossed to his own pack and began to dig through it.

Glancing up at his friend, Aragorn asked, "Do you want me to change the bandages as well?" When Legolas shook his head, he shrugged. "As you wish. We will have to change them in the morning, though." Finding what he was seeking, he sat down besides the elf on the bed and handed him a couple of herbs and the drinking skin. After watching to be assured that the elf really did take his medication, Aragorn once again stood. Stretching his arms above his head, he felt a pop, and then relaxed again, yawning.

"I'm going to see if the food and ale here is any good. Do you want to come?" he asked, heading towards the door.

Legolas shook his head again, murmuring, "I'm fine." He tentatively reclined back on the bed, hissing lightly as his wound was stretched.

"You sure?" Aragorn intone in concern, his brow furrowing. When the elf nodded, he said, "I'll see if I can bring you up some food. If I do, will you eat it?" After the prince nodded once more, he left the room, a twinge of worry in his stomach. The injury had taken more out of Legolas than he had first hoped.

Aragorn returned to the room an hour or two later with a full belly and a plate of semi-warm food for Legolas. When he pushed open the door, he found the room dark, none of the candle having been lit.

"Legolas?" he called softly, making his way further into the room. The light of the full moon cascaded onto the floor and illuminated the lump on the bed which must be his friend. Crossing the room, he laid the plate on the bedside table and sat down next to the elf.

Legolas was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell evenly and one of his arms was draped over his side, covering his wound protectively. But what assured Aragorn the most was that the elf slept with this eyes open.

"Get some rest, mellon-nin," Aragorn murmured, lightly patting the elf's arm as he rose. He would let him sleep; he needed it more than herbs, food, or companionship.

Unlacing his own boots, the human kicked them off and crawled into his own warm and comfortable bed. He never noticed the faint stain of red creeping up the elf's silvery tunic.

THEADVENTURESOFALIFETIME

Legolas didn't know what made him wake. Maybe it was the inner sense that something was dreadfully wrong, or maybe it was the strong scent of blood that filled his nostrils and the wet touch of liquid against his cheek.

Whatever it was, Legolas suddenly found himself awake. The first thing that he noticed was that he wasn't feeling well. Not well at all. His head was pounding sickeningly, and he could feel his pulse throbbing fast. A strange coldness was creeping across his body and his thoughts were slow and jumbled.

Struggling into a sitting position, Legolas gasped as his hand sank until a pool of liquid, the warm fluid squelching up and over his skin. He lifted his hand away from the liquid and held it up to the light of the moon, trying to get his blurred vision to focus on the shaking limb. All the breathe left his body as the light of the moon revealed a dark substance that was dripping back to the bed. That was blood or he wasn't a warrior…

Dropping heavily back to a flat position, Legolas sucked in a breath as he landed in a small pool of the fluid that immediately began to soak into his tunic and onto his skin. Quickly sitting back up, Legolas moaned softly with dismay as he stared down with horror at the blood coving the bed and himself.

The red liquid coated his left side from his hip to shoulder, spreading up to the side of his face and hair. Feeling sick and a little contaminated, Legolas gazed down, his heart pounding, trying to force his sluggish brain to work.

This wasn't good, not good at all. He had so much blood on him, on the bed. Too much! The mattresses was saturated, and when he pressed his hand against it to keep his balance, more blood than he thought possible oozed up to float in a small pocket the elf had created.

Panicking at the sight, Legolas swung his legs over the bed, only one thought entering his hazy mind. He had to get to Aragorn. Aragorn would help him.

Standing, the elf clasped to the ground, his blood depraved body unable to stay upright. Struggling back to his feet, the elf kept his eyes reverted on the mound of blankets that was Aragorn. Staggering forward a few feet sideways, the prince grabbed at the wash table desperately. His legs felt like jelly and his mind was mushy.

The man across the room muttered something low in his sleep and turned over, before letting out a loud snore.

"Aragorn…" Legolas moaned, sinking lower against the wood. "Aragorn, wake up." The man was normally the lightest of sleepers, but tonight he seemed to be in a deeper, more resting, sleep. Everything was beginning to fuzz in front of Legolas' blurred vision and he shook his head.

Letting go, he lost his balance and lurched down to all fours. Flecks of blood spotted the ground, marking his trail, and it was with great effort that he crawled the last few feet to Aragorn's bed. Pulling himself back upright, Legolas closed his eyes as dizziness swept over him.

The human lay there, his mouth partially opened as he continued to snore softly.

"Estel!" Legolas breathed out, gasping for air lightly as he reached out to shake the man. "Estel, I need you to wake up!" his fingers brushed the man's face and he stirred, frowning in his sleep.

THEADVENTRUESOFALIFETIME

Aragorn was sleeping soundly when something cold touched his face. A voice called his name in the darkness, a voice he knew.

Jerking abruptly awake, Aragorn atomically reached for the knife that he always kept under his pillow.

"Estel?" the strained voice brought his eyes flying up. Legolas was leaning heavily against his bed, his white face showing up easily against the darkness.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked in confusion, quickly sitting up and reaching out for his friend. As his fingers touched the elf's shoulders, he felt the elf go limp in his hands. "Legolas!" Aragorn shouted out in surprise, struggling to support the prince's dead weight as the elf feel against him. Laying the elf on his side, the man scrambled out from under the blankets, his brain shifting into panic mode.

"Legolas!" he called again, kneeling next to the elf on the bed and rolling Legolas over with shaking hands. The prince moaned softly and Aragorn's heart fluttered. "Legolas? Can you hear me?"

"Estel?" Legolas asked, and Aragorn nodded hurriedly, trying to help the elf further onto the bed. Legolas made no move to help him, and the man licked his dry lips. Legolas was starting to seriously scare him. "Stay with me, mellon-nin, just let me grab a light," he ordered.

Turning away, the human fumbled across the room to the wash table were the lantern rested. Once he had a bright light burning, he whirled around. The lantern fell from his hands with a loud band and Aragorn let out a sharp gasp.

"Ai! Elbereth!" he exclaimed in horror as he caught sight of the elf. Legolas was covered in blood, it was in his golden hair, on his face and neck, and drenched his slivery tunic. "Oh, Valar!" he man moaned, ducking to pick up the fallen light. Setting it careful on the table once more, he leaned over the elf, bracing his pale face in-between his hands.

"What happened?" he demanded harshly, fear making his voice sharp. "Legolas! Focus!" the elf's eyes snapped onto his face and Aragorn smiled weakly in encouragement.

"I –I…" Legolas began, but Aragorn shushed him.

"Did you receive any other wounds yesterday that I don't know about!?" the human asked, tightening his grip on the elf's face to get him to focus on him.

"No." Legolas whispered, losing a little more color and closing his eyes. Aragorn shook him harshly, and he cried out, his eyes snapping open. Aragorn cursed softly and began to undo the silver clasps on his tunic.

Legolas let out a shaky breath and turned his head into the blanket that it was resting on. Swallowing thickly, he gazed at a spot of blood darkening the blankets with dim eyes. "I'm getting blood all over the bed…" he murmured.

"I don't care." Aragorn said frankly, undoing the last clasp and easing the elf's right arm out of the sleeve.

"I already ruined the other bed." Legolas revealed in a dazed tone.

"I really don't care at the moment." Aragorn stated, pulling Legolas' left arm out as well. The bandages around the elf's middle was soaked through, there wasn't an inch of white fabric left, and Aragorn felt ill.

"But…" Legolas began, but trailed off, his eyes starting to slip shut.

"Legolas! Talk to me!" Aragorn begged, picking up his knife and slicing through the wet material. Legolas moved his head feebly and the man glanced up at him, before glancing down back as he pulled the bandages away. His eyes widen in surprise and he sucked in a surprised breath. "Your stitches! They are gone!"

Legolas' eyes flashed open, and he eased himself just enough to look down and his chest. The neat and emphatically straight stitches were indeed gone, leaving the jagged wound that they held shut dripping blood.

"How?" Legolas asked weakly as Aragorn pushed him back to lie flat.

"I don't know." Aragorn cried, fear edging his voice. He took a deep breath, and he when he next spoke, his voice was calmer. "But first thing first, we have to stop the bleeding. Then we can worry about whatever else."

Grabbing his bag from the floor, Aragorn dumped everything out. Grabbing his healing bag, the man ripped it open.

"I don't dare give you anything for the pain, not with the amount of blood that you have lost." He said, finding his needle and holding it close to the light so that he could thread it. "You are going to have to deal with a little pain."

"I'll be fine." Legolas assured, his voice beginning to slur. His flung an arm over his face and took a deep breath, holding it. Aragorn wiped at the blood with the edge of the blanket, trying to see what he was doing. Hurriedly he began to stitch, continuing to mop up the blood as he did so. Legolas sucked in a large breath, and Aragorn winced as the motion caused his needle to slide in deeper than he had planned.

"Hold still." Aragorn commanded, pressing his bloodied hand against the elf's chest as warning. Legolas bit his lower lip in pain, squeezing his eye shut as the needle bit into his skin once more. Perspiration glinted on his skin, and his breathing rate increased dramatically. His eyes fluttered close.

"Just hang on, Legolas, but I have to stop the bleeding." Aragorn rebuked gently, shaking his sleep mused hair out of his eyes. The elf shifted once more, swallowing as his body's reaction to the pain and loss of blood made him feel ill "A few more and then we will be done," the human insisted. He skillfully wielded his needle with the same confidence that he did his sword, and soon the wound had once again been closed. The bleeding had, for the moment, ceased and the man turned his attention to other important matters.

"How are you doing, Legolas?" he asked in concern. Legolas' skin was no longer pale, but ashen, and he lay listlessly there, his eyes half-lidded.

"I'm…" Legolas began, breathing softly, "I'm…" the rest of his sentence faded to something intelligible and Aragorn frowned. Quickly sifting though his herbs, he selected the ones he wanted and began to work them together into a paste.

"I'm going to take a guess at what you said." Aragorn said conversationally to the elf, hiding his worry for his friend behind a false cheeriness. "You said that you were just fine, didn't you, and even though it is beyond clear that you are not." Legolas smiled at the words, but didn't try to counter them.

Smearing the paste over the wound, Aragorn smiled back at his friend. "Listen, Legolas," he began, his voice calm and soothing. "I'm going to sit you up now, so that I can put the bandages on." He hooked an arm under the elf's shoulders. Legolas groaned, but allowed the man to heave him upright.

"Good, now here, hold on." The man continued to instruct. Taking Legolas' hand, he guided it onto his own shoulder, where he helped the elf grip a fistful of his tunic.

When Legolas managed to stay up on his own, Aragorn swiftly began to wrap Legolas' chest and midriff in fresh bandages. He chatted softly with the elf about nothing of importance, just trying to keep his attention.

"But where did the stiches go?" Legolas asked after a few minutes of Aragorn's questions going unanswered.

"I –I don't know." Aragorn answered lightly, a frown darkening his features. "I do have my suspicions, though."

" 'hat are they?" the prince mumbled weakly, his fingers tightening his hold.

"Poison," Aragorn answered after a pause. "The orcs on this side of the Misty Mountains have lately taken to using, well, I guess it isn't technically poison, but herbs that thin the blood." He began to explain, gently tying the last knot in the bandages. Gripping his friend firmly once more, he reclined him back onto the bed. Legolas held firmly to his forearm to help orientate himself, but didn't resist the man's actions. "Now that I come to think about it, that is probably why your wound bleed so much, and why it didn't clot tonight. My guess is that the orcs added something new to it, something that ate away at my stitches and hindered your body's natural healing process."

Legolas nodded, but Aragorn thought he looked like he hadn't comprehended a thing. Reaching out once more for his healing bag, he pulled out a tiny vile.

"Luckily, Ada has taken to preparing antidotes to orc's poison in large batches, and I've starting carrying most of them around with me, just in case." Uncorking it, he held it up to show it to Legolas. The elf tracked the movement with his eyes, before blinking sluggishly. Aragorn gently eased his head up, and pressed the bottle to his lips. Legolas atomically swallowed a couple of times, before Aragorn pulled it away.

"Go ahead and go back to sleep." Aragorn said, taking pity on the elf as he watched the prince's eyelids beginning to shut of their own accord. "I will watch over you, and wake you if needed." He grabbed his pillow and slid it under the elf's head. Dragging the blankets out from under the elf as well, he folded his friend in their warm embrace.

Legolas was almost instantly asleep, and Aragorn sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. His own heart was beating faster than normal from the scar of waking up and finding Legolas half-dead. He never wanted to experience that again.

Getting to his feet, the man sat on the floor, and pulled on his boots. There was no point in trying to go back to bed, not tonight. Lacing them firmly, he stood and crossed to the opposite side of the room.

The overwhelming sent of blood hit his nostrils strongly and Aragorn pulled up, his nose wrinkling up in disgust. Moving closer, he found that Legolas had been right. Blood soaked the bed in one large puddle.

An unexplainable feeling of gratitude swept over the man as he stood staring at the crimson fluid. It was a minor miracle that Legolas had awoken when he had and been aware enough to get Aragorn up for help.

Legolas stirred lightly behind him, and Aragorn turned, breaking away from his dark thoughts about what exactly would have happened had the elf not awoken.

"Shh…" he soothed lightly, pouring water into the basin that he picked up from off the floor. He wouldn't stand to have all the blood still on Legolas, not for one more minute. It made him look dead. Dipping his own handkerchief in the water, he ringed it out and began to wipe at the drying blood on Legolas' cheek.

The elf shifted again at the touch of water and his eyes cracked partially open. "No," Aragorn calmed, "It is alright, go back to sleep." The prince eyes slipped shut once more and he relaxed back into sleep, once more drifting off.

It took more than an hour for Aragorn to wash off all the blood that covered his friend. The water in the basin was crimson once had finished, as well as were his hands. But his friend was clean, and Aragorn was sure that they were both happier for it.

Sitting down tiredly, Aragorn gently placed two fingers momentarily on his friend's neck, checking his pulse once more. It was still to fast, but steady, and Aragorn wasn't as concerned as he had been. If he carefully monitored his friend, and gave him plenty of fluids and rest, then he should be just fine.

Leaning back, Aragorn sat watch over his sleeping friend as the first light of dawn filtered in though the overhead window.

THE END

Well...what did you think? Did it live up to itself? (if not, then feel free to give me an idea of what you think would be the perfect story)

Next month! A nightmare (along with comfort) :)