"Yrch!" Legolas hissed, immediately jumping down out of the tree he was crouched in and drawing his bow.

Tauriel looked up from where she had been sharpening her daggers, secretly almost glad for the interruption to their somewhat awkward patrol. It was just the two of them today, and Legolas didn't exactly talk much, at least not to her. The other elves from their patrol had been temporarily deployed to help defend the northern border, leaving only their two most competent fighters behind.

She hadn't sensed the orcs approaching like he had, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Now he was next to her, bow still drawn and giving her an icy look.

"Tauriel!" He snapped, sounding less like the carefree and playful elfling she had grown up with, and more like the cold, distant commander that he'd become. When he wasn't irritated or even just indifferent, he was always quiet and reserved now. She supposed it was hardly unsurprising given the circumstances. He undoubtedly carried a huge amount of responsibility as the prince of Mirkwood and had bore his burden for centuries, defending his kingdom against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm it.

She quickly leapt to her feet, feeling her face flush as she quickly drew her own bow. She avoided the hard look she could feel he was giving her.

"How many?"

"Sixty. Maybe more." He said quickly as he spun round on his heels, concentrating intently as he tried to ascertain a more accurate direction. "They draw close- we don't have long." His eyes darted to the horizon and he paced impatiently over to the tree line, his whole body tense and alert. "We'll have to fight them." He turned to look at her, taking a deep breath as he steeled himself for what was to come.

He wasn't afraid. He was a warrior; he was never afraid, especially of orcs. They were slow and stupid and remarkably easy to kill. But there was only the two of them tonight, and they had not been prepared for, nor expected, to run into such a large party of orcs like this.

Just before the orcs came crashing through the trees, for a split second Tauriel thought she caught a hint of emotion in his face. Not fear, not even remotely close. It was closer to a fierce, protective kind of determination. Something that showed that maybe deep down, there might still be a part of him not numbed by war, that still cared about her.

They had not been prepared for a fight like this. They'd been cornered; surrounded from all sides and heavily outnumbered.

They had already dispatched more than 50 orcs between them and were fighting at close range now. There were only about seven orcs left, which in normal circumstances the two elven warriors would've made quick work of, but they'd been fighting too hard for too long and they were both exhausted.

Legolas unsheathed his twin knives, pulling them deftly from over his shoulders and slicing through another orc's throat in one single movement, its rancid body falling to the floor with a garbled, bloody scream. He pivoted, panting heavily and saw Tauriel desperately fighting off two more, that had teamed up on her, with a frustrated yell.

Suddenly his eyes widened in horror as his gaze was suddenly drawn to an orc that had emerged unseen from behind a tree; bow drawn and a wicked grin on its face. It was aiming straight at Tauriel.

The orc loosed its arrow. Legolas didn't even think. One minute he was frozen, helplessly watching the arrow fly through the air towards her, and the next he was throwing himself into its path.

Tauriel had just finished killing the two orcs she was fighting when she heard Legolas cry out behind her followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

His body.

She screamed and started to run towards him, but before she could even take in what exactly had happened, she noticed the orc- the last orc, nocking an another arrow from behind the tree. Before the stupid thing could even think, she fired her last arrow straight through its eye and out the back of its head.

Immediately she ran over to where Legolas was crumpled on the ground. He was just about conscious and somehow still managed to half smile at her weakly as she approached despite the pain he was so obviously in. It was the first time she had seen him smile at her in years. His face was alarmingly white, but what was far more alarming was the arrow embedded in his blood-soaked side.

A terrible grief stabbed at her heart as realisation hit her, why he had smiled at her like that. The orc behind the tree. She had her back to it, she hadn't even seen it coming, but he had.

She threw down her bow and fell to her knees beside him, tenderly stroking his too pale cheek with her hand. All the weird awkwardness, the distance that had grown between them, it didn't matter to her anymore.

"Legolas! Ai valar…" She let out a choked sob. It didn't seem real. Somehow she'd always let herself believe that they were invincible. So many battles they'd fought side by side, always victorious with barely a scratch to show for it. It was difficult to believe it was him laying there, badly wounded and collapsed on the ground.

He wanted to reassure her, hating to see her so distressed at his expense, but his head was reeling and he was unable to stop his face creasing as pain overwhelmed him. He let out a hiss, curling up into himself and instinctively wrapping an arm around himself as white hot pain seared through him.

She put a hand on his arm reassuringly as his breath came in ragged gasps as he fought to get a hold of himself. When he was no longer fighting for breath, his mind immediately went to her- he hadn't even checked if Tauriel was hurt. Suddenly he tried to sit up in a panic, groaning as it did nothing but provoke a fresh surge of pain.

"Tauriel?!-"

Her heart skipped a beat at the pure concern plastered across his face, at the ridiculousness of the fact that he was more concerned about her despite the state he was in.

"I'm unhurt. It's you we need to worry about." She tried to give him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but it faltered when she saw him grimace in pain again, as he clutched his stomach tighter, breathing sharply through clenched teeth.

The hand he'd wrapped around himself was already covered in blood, and it was clear that she needed to do something to stop the bleeding, and fast.

They didn't carry much in the way of healing supplies on patrols, but thankfully, they always did carry yarrow exactly for this purpose. She gently helped him lay back and carefully cut through several layers of blood stained clothes with a knife, before applying the leaves as best she could to the skin around the wound. He cried out in pain, but both of them knew it was a necessary evil.

"Please- take it… out…" he managed to ground out between uneven shallow breaths, as she put as much pressure as she dared on his side to try and slow the bleeding. His head swam and he groaned weakly as he swallowed and shut his eyes tightly as his vision darkened. Somehow he was aware that she was talking to him, her voice increasingly frantic as he failed to respond, but her words were swallowed by a high pitched ringing in his ears.

"-las!"

The ground felt like it was tipping beneath him- like he might fall any moment. Yet, wasn't he was lying down? He moaned again and became aware of Tauriel's hand on his face. One hand cupping his cheek. That was nice. It was funny that he'd spent so many nights out on patrol sitting next to her in the darkness, daydreaming about such a thing, and now it was happening but he felt too ill to properly appreciate it.

He didn't enjoy her shaking him as much; consciousness assaulted him once more. His body felt so weak and drained but his senses were restored. As incredible pain crashed through him, he mourned the peaceful darkness.

"Mm…'m… ok…" he could hear how slurred and incoherent his speech was and felt ashamed.

"Posto Legolas!" Stop that! "Valar you are not fine!"

When he'd suddenly become unresponsive, she was worried she was going to lose him there and then. She felt totally helpless as she'd watched, terrified, as he'd turned sheet white and his eyes had rolled back. Even now his lips were still tinged with grey.

She dared to look down at the wound and saw that mercifully, the bleeding seemed to have slowed for now.

"Thank the Valar… It's stopping. We need to get you back to the healing halls…" Urgently. She looked around uselessly, although she already knew they were completely alone. It wasn't that she couldn't lift him- but that she didn't know how she could lift him in this state. It would surely only injure him further and he'd die if he lost much more blood- she could tell by the pallor of his face that the internal bleeding was already too great.

He watched her closely, unable to do much else, still in his own dreamlike haze of suffering. But he could read the dilemma in his eyes.

"Take it out. Please…" He begged her. "It's the only option."

"Nae! You will bleed to death! I'm sorry 'Las, we have to leave it in." She felt a pang of sadness in her heart at her accidental use of his childhood nickname. They'd been so close once, only to have grown so far apart over the last few centuries. It hurt her to think of all that time, wasted. Time with him she might never get back.

"You need proper care…" Care I am not able to give you.

Legolas suddenly let out an uncharacteristic, involuntary cry and curled in on himself, both arms wrapped around himself clutching at his injured side. His brow was furrowed and it was all he could do to stop a tear from rolling down his too pale cheek.

"Nîdh…" he said weakly, closing his eyes. It hurts.

Please, I don't know how much longer I can bare this.

"Please… hold on… I will get you something for the pain. But we cannot stay here. I will think of something." She reassured him, taking off her cloak and laying it over him gently. She didn't know much about healing. She was already thoroughly out of her depth, but she was confident that if she could find some, she would be able to identify athelas. She didn't know much about the herb, only what she had learned from the ranger that Legolas often travelled with.

If only it were Estel here with him now and not me… he would know what to do, how to help him. I am afraid whatever I do will not be enough.

She didn't dare stray far from where he lay, but thankfully she managed to find the herb fairly fast; it grew commonly around these parts of Mirkwood.

When she returned, his eyes were closed once more and he was only half conscious, yet she pressed on and crushed the athelas leaves into a cup and mixed it with water.

"We need to get this into you, it will help the pain and stem the bleeding also." She didn't know if he was able to understand what she was saying but she hoped somehow her voice could comfort him.

She slid round behind him and tried her best to ease him up into her lap gently so he was somewhat upright. She had to hold his head and tip the cup carefully to his lips, though her own hands were shaking. He was in and out of consciousness, but slowly she managed to get him to take it down. She was thankful that as an elf, his body would hopefully absorb it quickly.

They just had to wait. She laid him back down into her lap and tried to comfort him as they waited for the herb to take effect. His skin was clammy with sweat, and she absentmindedly brushed aside his silky blonde hair from where it had began to stick to his face. It was still somehow white gold and pristine, even now. He was always immaculate, so perfect. It felt odd having him laying there in her arms like that. There once was a time where this moment was all she had wished for.

His face screwed up in pain as he moaned softly to himself, barely aware of her presence, but gradually she felt his body become less tense, his moans less agonised. Eventually he gazed up at her with soft blue eyes, confusion written on his face as he clawed his way back from the haze of pain.

"Are you hurt?" He looked horrified at the sudden thought, and shifted to see her better, wincing when his stomach which still had an arrow lodged in it, inevitably protested against the movement. Her eyes met his dazed, questioning gaze and she could barely look away.

You've already asked me this before. Do you not remember?

She just shushed him and laid him back down, stroking his hair softly as he relaxed.

"I must apologise for my weakness." He cleared his throat slightly. "I know not what came over me." He said quickly, sounding flustered. She rolled her eyes; he was obviously feeling more himself. She suddenly felt a little awkward at how close they were and moved away slightly.

"Severe blood loss was 'what came over you'" She chided, shaking her head incredulously.

"I am well." He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for the pain he knew would follow as he struggled up onto one elbow, the other arm still wrapped around his stomach. It felt like hot knives were being driven through him.

"No, you are not."

She could see his arms shaking and before they collapsed under him, she quickly helped to gently prop him up on the tree he had fallen next to. She went to fetch her waterskin, only turning her back for a second but gasped when she turned back around and saw him about to grab the shaft of the arrow stuck in his side.

"No! Leave it! You cannot remove it!" She sprinted back and slapped his hand away in horror. "Do you want to pass out again? Or die?-" She quickly swallowed her words. Speaking it aloud made it feel real. She immediately regretted her harsh words, but he had terrified her just now when she thought he might never wake up.

He sighed. He still felt very lightheaded, and rationally he knew they couldn't risk it. Thankfully the bleeding mostly seemed to have stopped for now, and he had no intention of repeating what had happened earlier.

"We need to get you out of here. The blood will attract more orcs when night falls. We need to get you to a healer." He nodded, his breathing measured as he tried to control the pain that lanced through him with every slight movement, and throbbed more with every beat of his heart.

"I can walk-"

"Nae!…" She tried to think of a better alternative but couldn't come up with anything fast enough.

"I am ok…" he ignored her as she raised her eyebrows. "The pain is not too bad. I feel less unwell than earlier, truly, I will manage."

She wanted to argue with him, but if he could walk, she knew it would be the fastest way to get him to help soonest. The only other alternative was dragging him, and she knew that would only delay them massively and cause him a great deal of pain. There was certainly no way she could leave him to fetch help either. She nodded in resignation.

"We will try." She frowned as he stifled a moan as he shifted again to gauge his weakness. "Goston achin…" I am worried about you.

He was frighteningly weak as she tried to help him up, but they immediately realised the arrow sticking out of him was going to be a problem. Every slight disturbance would knock it and jar him, and within moments he was back flat on the floor, breathing heavily through the pain.

"We can't remove it, but I need to snap the shaft." Tauriel told him, moving the material of his clothes aside. She hesitated. "Are you ok?…" It seemed a silly question, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was quickening.

"Aye. Please, just do it." He ground out, gritting his teeth as she grasped the shaft and snapped it in her fists, as close to his skin as she dared. Orc arrows were never well made and it snapped relatively easily, but she knew the real horrors lay within.

He cried out in pain as he curled in on himself. Without thinking Tauriel took him into her arms and held him gently as he tried to ride out the assault of pain and nausea that had accompanied the jarring of the arrow embedded in his abdomen.

She couldn't bare seeing him in so much pain. She knew that despite everything he was doing his absolute best to hide it, or control it at least- but he was too exhausted to try and convince her anymore.

He was the strongest, most resilient elf she knew. He never showed weakness.

She remembered a time where they'd still been close, where he had come home from a particularly eventful patrol where he'd become separated from his scouts, been completely overwhelmed and got bitten by a spider. He'd still come out on top, of course, but she'd been the one who'd rubbed his back and stroked his hair out of his face as he'd retched and heaved all night, and stayed with him as he suffered through the horrendous after effects of the venom. It was the sickest she'd ever seen him, and even then he'd made an admirable effort to hide his illness from her. She'd found him half collapsed and being sick alone in the forest, trying to hide in the dark and clearly hoping to somehow ride it out alone. In reality he'd needed two strong doses of anti venom from the healing halls, so it was a good job she'd found him.

After a moment, he tried to speak again, his voice hoarse.

"We need to go." He sighed, already sounding exhausted. "If we wait much longer I fear I won't be able…" He admitted sadly, looking at the ground with a look of shame.

Tauriel quickly gathered their things before very carefully helping him up. At least now the shaft was snapped shorter it put less strain on the wound and he could move a little easier. She took his hands in her own to help him, and gasped slightly at their touch.

"Your hands are so cold…" she gave them a squeeze trying to work some life back into them. Legolas nodded mutely in agreement. His hands felt like they were incased in ice, weak and lifeless, much like the rest of him. He shivered and Tauriel frowned. Feeling the cold wasn't something their kind was familiar with.

"Here…" when they had got him standing, she draped her cloak around him on top of his own. He was hunched over, holding his side and clearly in pain.

He couldn't so much walk properly as stagger with her help. She pulled the arm he had not wrapped around himself over her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist, worried at how limp and pliable he was in her grasp. She adjusted her grip as they walked, very slowly, with her taking most of his weight as his legs faltered beneath him, stumbling repeatedly.

He couldn't seem to make his legs work properly, he knew he was pitching and swaying all over the place, no doubt making her job of half carrying him all the more difficult. He couldn't help it though; his head was reeling and he felt hot and shaky all over. Being upright certainly hadn't agreed with him, and it was all he could do to remain so and not collapse to the floor.

He'd gone very quiet, and Tauriel just hoped he wasn't about to pass out again. Elves were surprisingly resilient to even heavy blood loss and as long as the bleeding was controlled in time, their bodies were usually able to replenish what they had lost fairly quickly. However, the way he was still barely able to remain on his feet told her otherwise. She could tell how dizzy he felt as she held him, and she didn't miss the way he paled several shades as he let out a stifled moan, hanging his head and inhaling sharply for a moment, his face creased with pain.