A/N Wow...seems like it has been forever since I have updated this story! I know...I missed the date, but it is here now! Lets just pretend that I wanted to wait for Bilbo's birthday to update...yea, that sounds like a good story. :) I am sorry that you guys had to wait this long. :( But on with the story!

This can be considered my present to the Tolkien fandom in for Bilbo Baggin's Birthday! I mean, I guess it is Frodo's as well...but I love and adore Bilbo.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Healers and Warriors

"You do realize, right, that you fail as a healer?" Legolas snapped.

"Well, then it is one huge miracle that you are still alive," Aragorn reminded the elf lightly, grimacing as he shifted where he sat.

"Oh, be quiet. You know perfectly well what I mean, and sit still!" The prince of Mirkwood shook his head in derision, but his fingers were gentle as he tightened the white bandage that was wrapped firmly around the man's waist. Bright spots of red were already starting to dot the white fabric, and Legolas wrapped the bandages around once more before trying it off. "You don't take proper care of yourself. Isn't that what a healer learns?"

"You aren't the one to be giving me this talk. I am fine, we can keep going," Aragorn said with a smile that was just slightly off. His hands were gripping the rock he was sitting one a little too tight and the normal excited gleam in his eyes was dulled.

Legolas huffed, sitting back on his heels. "I, unlike, you am no healer therefore I have an excuse. Aragorn, you are not fine. We will go until we find a suitable place to rest, but then, I assure you, we will stop." A hardness had entered his normally calm voice and Aragorn glanced at him in surprise. Legolas had turned his back to him, repacking their supplies but his shoulders were tense.

"You are mad at me," he said delicately. He pushed himself up straighter and resisted the urge to moan as he wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Mad doesn't cover it, Aragorn." Legolas jerked the straps closed with one sure, angry, movement and spun around to face his companion. "Oh, I am beyond mad. It has been two days, Aragorn, two days! And just now you decided to tell me?!" He stocked closer, his eyes darkening dangerously as he jabbed his finger at the man. "Did you think you could just mention in passing, 'Legolas, look at that track, must have been a fairly large animal. It would make for several good meals, oh, and by the way, that skirmish that we had with the orcs? I got sliced across the gut and I think that it is getting infected, just in case you wanted to know. Anyway, which way did you think the deer went'?" His volume was increasing dramatically and Aragorn could only star at him with bewilderment.

"At least I had the courtesy to tell you," he said defensively, his arm tightening around his middle. "I didn't wait until I had passed out, unlike you have done before," he paused, cocking an eyebrow for emphasis, "…more than once."

Legolas flushed lightly, and bent down to pick up the both his and Aragorn's pack. "I just didn't appreciate the surprise," he mumbled, silencing Aragorn's statement that he could carry his own pack with a glare.

"You never do…" the man muttered under his breath. Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself and eased his protesting body upright. His middle cramped with sudden pain and he doubled over with a loud hiss. His knees buckled, but then a pair of strong arms were wrapping around his shoulders and taking his full weight. The wave of agony continued to crash over him and he stayed bent over and panting as he waited for it to pass. He could feel Legolas patting his back soothingly, but could not respond to it.

"I'm not going to forgive you," Legolas swore after the man had straightened with his help, though to Aragorn it sounded much more like relief rather than anger. The man couldn't help the chuckle as he allowed himself to rest against the elf. Legolas examined the pale, sweaty, man, before smiling wanly, "Well, at least not until you are walking under your own power again." Not all the hardness or anger was gone from his voice, but it was a start.

HEALERSANDWARRIORS

They settled down in well sheltered clearing not a mile away. By time they reached it, Aragorn was weary down to the bone. He leaned heavily on the elf, trusting him blindly to keep him upright and moving in the right direction.

Legolas had kept up a stonily silence throughout and Aragorn knew that the elf was still mad at him. Why, exactly, he was so mad was another question. This wasn't the first time that they had done this to one another (and he hazard a bet it wouldn't be the last) but usually the elf wasn't this angry. Something was bugging him, but in the man's hazy condition he was having trouble figuring it out.

The elf was still as gentle as ever, however, as he lowered the man down to sit underneath a large tree.

"Here we go, now you just sit still and rest," he said quietly, straightening after touching Aragorn's arm gently. "I'm going to go see about starting a fire." The man nodded once, shifting against the rough bark in an attempt to ease the pain. He only succeeded in jarring his wound worse and a sharp hiss escaped from his lip as he arched up against the tree.

"I told you to remain still!" Legolas snapped, kneeling back down next to the man, worry pulling at his face. "What do you have that will ease your pain?"

"I'm fine," Aragorn insisted through clenched teeth. Legolas arched an eyebrow.

"Tell me, what do you have that will ease your pain?" he asked again, but this time with force. Folding his arms firmly, he waited. Aragorn winced, his hand covering his wound protectively as he chewed his lower lip.

"I have normal pain reliefs," he admitted at last, jerking his head towards his pack. "You might as well throw some in for infection as well." He again tried to change position, but this time Legolas came to his rescue. Taking his arm, he helped him shift upwards and into a more comfortable position, before handing over the requested pack. Panting lightly, the man drew opened it open and blinked fuzzily down at its contents.

"Here," he said at last, pulling out several herbs. "Brew it."

"Thank you," Legolas said with a touch of exasperation. "This time do as I say and do not move." Aragorn smiled wanly at the elf retreating back and slumped back against the tree. His wound hurt more than he was willing to admit.

He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, Legolas was shaking his shoulder lightly and whispering his name.

"I'm awake," he slurred rather unconvincingly as he brought his head up. He blinked for a minute, trying to control his blurred vision and focus in on Legolas' fuzzy face, before giving up. He heard the elf snort as a hand pressed his head up and a cup held against his lips, before he was ordered to drink. He did so without complaint and felt himself slipping away. Legolas was moving around him, he could sense him more than hear him, and it was with full trust in the elf to take care of him that he allowed himself to slip off.

Legolas, on the other hand, wasn't as confident in his abilities.

Aragorn wasn't well, and the prince was completely aware of that. His normally sun-tanned face was pale, and sweat was dribbling down his chest. The wound itself was red and swollen, and didn't like anything like a wound should. As the hours wore one, his lips began to move soundlessly in fevered rants.

"Of all the stupid times to go and get ill," Legolas muttered as he splashed some of the little water they had onto a rag before dragging it across his friend's face. He waited a moment for Aragorn to respond, before sighing "Of course, you would get an infection. Ten days…ten days is all that you had to wait, then we could have made it to Rivendell and Elrond's help. But no…"

Aragorn mumbled something, tossing his head to the side before crying out, his hand flying to his side.

"No, no, don't touch!" Legolas scolded, snatching his hand away and squeezing it in his own. "Just, leave it alone." The man jerked, his sweaty face twitching as he moaned and Legolas sighed. That might have come out a little harsher than he had mean it, and Aragorn had always had a knack for reading emotions, unconscious and ill or not.

"Alright, I didn't mean it like that." Legolas sighed, wiping the rag down his face. Aragorn shifted again, hissing through his teeth, but as the cool rag touched his face, he turned into it. "At least I can give you some comfort." The prince's voice was soft and quite, hardly a whisper.

He hated it when Aragorn became ill or injured, especially when they were alone in the wild. Legolas was no healer. The basics would one day not be enough, and that scared him more than packs of orcs or spiders, or even both together. When—if—that day came…well, he didn't like to dwell on it. He trusted Aragorn completely when it came to healing his body, and it rather unevered him and rather frightened him that the human did the same. He was no healer. He was a warrior, he took life rather than give it.

As the night progressed the man only grew worse. His fever rose, and with it the incoherent mumblings. Legolas did all he could, but he had this terrible gut feeling that it wasn't going to be enough, that it would never be enough. Aragorn's wound was swelling, and the swiftly darkening color of the skin contrasting darkly to the lightly colored puss that was starting to leak. Puss was never a good sigh, even Legolas knew that.

Aragorn was growing from bad to worse and from worse to terrible and what came after that Legolas didn't want to know.

At the break of dawn, Legolas began to feel like he was the one suffocating, but from stress rather than illness. He was no healer, he was a warrior. But with his friend's life on the line, well, he was going to have to step it up.

Moving away from the fire and from Aragorn, Legolas took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He just needed to focus, to think. How would Aragorn treat this? But that was the problem, he just didn't know. He was usually unconsciousness at this point or comforting his friend and sadly not paying attention to whatever Elrond or the twins were performing. He needed to fix that, next time he would pay attention. But it was not the next time, it was the present.

Taking another steadying breath, he let blew it out and braced his hands against a nearby tree. Aragorn cried something out behind him, but he resisted the urge to turn back and offer fruitless aid. He needed help, Aragorn needed help, he needed to focus, too remember. Squeezing his eyes closed, he strained his memory, trying to think, trying to focus on any little detail that might be of some help. Leaning his head against his arms, he slowed his breathing, closeing his eyes and cleared his head.

The man moaned, and his keen ears could hear him twisting and turning. Blocking it out, he took another deep breath.

After a full minute, his eyes popped open and his face hardened. Whirling around with his eyes set, he marched back over to the groaning and ill man.

HEALERSANDWARROIRS

It was evening when Aragorn next awoke and was coherent. Legolas was sitting against the tree with his knees pulled up against his chest but when Aragorn let out mumbled 'Legolas' he was scrambling to his side.

"Estel! How are you feeling?!" he asked in one breath, scooting over to kneel closer to the man and touching his arm lightly. The ranger only moaned again and slowly raised a hand, washing it over his face in a slow, tired, movement.

"Legolas…" he repeated sluggishly, shaking his head. "What…what happened?"

"Orc attack. You received a nasty cut, which became infected. You spent the last several hours suffering from a high fever," Legolas reminded gently. Fear was still underlining in his voice, and even sick as he was Aragorn picked up on it.

"You… you had a rough night as well," he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"You don't worry about that, you aren't allowed too." Legolas patted the man's arm, giving him a firm look. "It was only after I remembered to drain your wound of infection that you even began to get better. You just lay there and rest. Unless, that is, you have any information pertaining to your health that I should be aware of."

Aragorn nodded, struggling to get more words out, before he began to cough. Legolas inched closer, the worry clear in his face.

"Legolas, I'm fine. Stop worrying," he got out between gasps of air. "Water…water would be nice, though."

"On it." Legolas jumped to comply, moving faster than what was necessary.

It wasn't long before the man drifted back into a healing sleep. The next time he woke, he was feeling much better, and told the elf so. But the prince insisted on hovering by his side, and at last his patience was at an end.

"Legolas,seas! Please, just stop worrying. I swear I will tell you if I feel worse, or if I need anything, or, or, if you need to do something, alright?" Aragorn gave the elf a pointed look, and Legolas shrugged. "Legolas, I'm fine. I don't think it was that bad of an infection, I am sure I would be feeling worse if that was the case." Legolas didn't respond to that either, keeping his eyes glued to the ground so that the man could not read the fear that was there. "Alright. Differently approach. What if I was make an agreement. Next time you are injured I will leave you in peace as long as you swear to do the same for me." He grinned at the elf, but Legolas only scoffed.

"We both know that that will never be true." Legolas smiled a small smile back, but his eyes were still worried. "Besides, I can't trust you judgement right now. You were very sick last night and still are. Aragorn, I was worried for you. No, I was terrified. I don't normally have to actually have to perform the medical aid. That is your and Elrond's job, defiantly not mine."

Aragorn suddenly chuckled. "Is that what is making you so uptight? You did fine. I can tell, it is my body after all. I would be a lot worse if you hadn't done a good job. And I'm not dead, so that can be a comfort to you."

Legolas was silent for a minute, offering the flask of water to the man. He helped him drink it, before speaking again.

"That just is the problem, though. Aragorn, I'm a warrior. I destroy rather than a heal and one of these time when you leave me alone to sort out your injuries, it will end in death."

"Legolas, you did just fine," Aragorn tried again to state. He inched his way up the tree so that he was sitting up to face the elf. His tone took on a seriousness that hadn't been there before. The prince wasn't in a joking mood.

"NO—Aragorn, listen. I am fine as long as I have someone guiding me, but when you choose to wait until you are at the point of collapsing and already feverish to tell me that you are injured then it leaves me all alone with your life in my hands with no clue how to save it! Give me orcs to kill to save you, or even spiders or wargs, but don't leave me alone to heal you!"

"Legolas…" Aragorn tried weakly, but the elf held up a hand to stop him.

"Next time you give me warning, you understand," he said firmly, his eyes dark with the seriousness of his request. "If you can even remind me of basic instructions, then you can feel free to pass out. No, actually, skip that. The longer you can help me, the better. Just…just try not to leave me alone like that again." Most of the venom and anger had faded from his voice know, leaving him sounded tired. He washed a hand across his face, and leaned back, taking a steadying breath.

"Alright," Aragorn agreed simply, making Legolas blink. He had thought the man would put up more of the fight. Narrowing his eyes, he wondered if the man's fever was back, but as he pressed the back of his hand against the man's cheek, he found just as it had been before. Not cool, but not as hot as it had been that night.

"I'll do my best. But Legolas, I can't promise much. I trust you, though. Ki just so you know. I would trust you with anything that I own, I would…I would trust you with Arwen, alright. Don't be so hard on yourself, you are better than you give yourself credit for." The long speech was starting to wear him out, and closed his eyes with a low sigh. Legolas caught on immediately, and he ordered the man to rest without a pause. Aragorn, chucking lightly, carefully rolled over. He hissed out loud once, but waved the prince off.

Legolas backed off, but Aragorn couldn't resist one last remark.

"You know, Legolas, the only condition that came with that agreement is that you obviously have to agree to never abruptly collapse on me again."

Legolas made a non-committal sound, muttering something that the man couldn't catch and all he could do was stifle a smile before once again slipping off to slip, trusting Legolas all the while.

THE END

Hmm...I think that last bit was a little off...oh well. Feel free to tell me good or bad! Trust me, I can take whatever you might want to say!

Was that enough Aragorn angst to suit you for now? Hopefully it was, because while there are more stories centered around him, I really do love my Legolas angst. Speaking of which... the next story will involve Legolas h/c I am not sure on any other facts at this point, but I can promise that I will update on time next time. :)

Thanks!

Review Replies:

ElvenPrincess: Oh, you are perfectly fine! I'm just glad that you review. I hoped you enjoyed your Aragorn angst. :) Thanks so much!

1monster2: I can for sure do that! I won't be next, because it is a first come first serve style, but I would love to do it. :) Dude, I don't handle heat well...you have my sympathy. Oh, thanks so much!