Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: I am sooooooooo sorry for the long wait, but school started, lots of field work, my job on top of that, and my car just broke and I had to get it fixed. It's just a bit overwhelming at times. Anyway, thanks for the reviews and those sticking to this story: lathspel, thessan11, and istnes. I really appreciate them and everyone reading this. Again I am sorry and hope to update sooner. Please enjoy!

Aragorn tossed restlessly on his makeshift bunk, feeling every bit of uneven earth beneath his back despite the many blankets that covered the ground. His father deemed it dangerous to move Legolas in such an unstable condition so the elves made camp until it was safe to bring the blonde elf back to Rivendell. Worry and discomfort practically kept Aragorn from finding any rest at all. He lay for a moment on his back; flashes of Legolas' battered body, taunting his weary mind, seemed to burden his thoughts. He sighed heavily and decided to give up; there was no way he would be able to rest now despite the soreness of his body. Before he even made it into a sitting position, Elrohir decided to enter his tent, carrying a tray of food with an all too knowing grin on his face.

"Well, well, dear brother. We weren't trying to escape, now were we?" He asked smugly.

"Of course not, Elrohir," Aragorn replied innocently, "We weren't trying to do anything of the sort. I was simply leaving." He stood up too quickly hoping to stop his brother from forcing him back down, but the sudden movement was too much for his weakened body, and the tent began to spin. He felt two strong arms holding him up while he tried to gain his bearings again. A voice seemed to be calling to him, but it echoed far away.

"Estel? Estel, are you alright?" The man could barely form a sentence and there was no recognition in his eyes. Slowly he felt his body lay back against the thick blankets once again. 'Somehow this seems to be a step in the wrong direction,' Aragorn thought as the world came back into focus and the room ceased its dizzy spiral.

"I do not think it wise for you to be up, gwador nin," Elrohir cautioned, worry still present on his features. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Aragorn responded with a grunt of displeasure, though he knew that his brother was right.

"I wanted to see Legolas," the man whispered all of a sudden as Elrohir began to clean up the floor where a few stray pieces of bread had fallen when he hastily settled the tray on the ground to stop his brother's collapse. The elf ceased his administrations and kneeled next to Aragorn, whose right arm now lay over his eyes, wallowing in the memories no doubt.

"I know, Estel, but he is very unstable. Ada still has not left his tent since we've made camp. Please, be patient. I know it's impossible for you but try," Elrohir added trying to lighten the mood that was threatening to plunge headfirst into the darkest despair. Aragorn remained unaffected by the comment; not even a half a sad smile was evident on his face. It was not until Elrohir looked closer that he saw a lone tear slide smoothly down the man's temple and into his hair.

"Oh, Estel," he whispered heartbrokenly. He reached out a gentle hand and wiped away the tear's trail. Aragorn flinched in surprise, but did not remove his arm from his face.

"Please," croaked the anguished man, "Leave me in peace." Though slightly hurt by his brother's comment, he knew that he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a bit and finally come to terms with what had occurred. Patting a comforting hand on his brother's knee, the elf rose gracefully and walked quietly out of the tent.

Feeling the absence in the room, Aragorn finally let go of his overwhelming grief that threatened to strangle his heart with its constricting grip. His whole chest ached with the effort, but he refused to stop as the sobs continued, hard but silent. His friend could be lost to him and it was all his fault. His sobs soon turned to coughs as his tired and sick body could not withstand anymore emotion. Eventually, he passed out in an exhausted sleep.

Sleep did not seem part of Elrond's foreseeable future as he sat vigilant beside the resting body of the battered elf. He sighed every now and then as he checked the pale face for a fever and then proceeded to inspect the wounds beneath the many bandages that covered Legolas' body.

The physical injuries were treatable, though they would take a rather long time to fully heal, even for an elf. The wounds were devastating: broken ribs, collar bone, and arm. Contusions colored the almost white skin. Infection set in and caused the elf to mumble and toss restlessly as his body tried to heal in sleep. There was no doubt that nightmares were also causing his disturbances, but Elrond dared not think of the hours of torment that he endured to suffer so.

"Ada is he any better?" asked a rather concerned Elrohir. He went here of all places hoping something good would come of it to tell Aragorn and put his mind at ease.

"No, I am afraid not," Elrond replied exhaustedly, his eyes never leaving the battered body before him. The lines seemed to go deeper into his face, and he sat hunched over with his elbows on his knees as his hands kneaded his forehead every so often. He rubbed his tired eyes where dark bags took up residence. Healing took a great deal from him, and Elrond looked awful.

"Oh, ada…" whispered Elrohir as he took in his father's appearance. It was almost as bad as Aragorn's. "You should rest. This is not healthy. Legolas will need you at full strength when he awakens." The young elf hoped his words would break through Elrond's tough exterior, but he knew the attempt was fruitless.

"No, my son, I must remain here. I cannot leave for fear his condition may worsen. I trust no one else with him. I promised Estel I would heal him, and I will." As defeated as he seemed only moments ago, the elf lord became instantly defensive at the mention of breaking his promise to his son and to himself.

"I wish you would reconsider, but I know not to argue with you. Would you at least eat something if I brought it to you?" Elrohir asked hopefully.

After a slight hesitation, a solemn nod was his response. A small sense of relief coursed through the young dark-haired twin and he left and returned quickly carrying a piece of lembas bread and a cup of tea. Elrond suspiciously eyed the steaming mug and Elrohir could not help but smile. He knew better than to drug his father especially at a crucial time like this.

"I put nothing in it, ada, though you deserve it for all those times you did it to us unsuspectingly." Elrond gave a small smile, easing his son's stress a little more. They sat quietly for a few moments until Elrond finally broke the silence.

"How is Estel? I know I should have checked on him but…" He left his sentence hanging knowing his son understood his meaning. He couldn't leave Legolas…at least not yet. Aragorn would understand.

"He is…as well as can be expected," Elrohir replied slowly, unsure whether to reveal his true condition only to worry his father more. It was too late because Elrond's eyes locked directly with his in concern and inquisition. "His physical health has been a bit compromised by the current outing, but he should feel better in no time if he allows himself to rest." He wished not to speak further for he knew not how well his brother was doing mentally. He could only guess by his previous reaction.

"And mentally?" Elrond asked hesitantly part of him wishing to remain ignorant.

"I honestly do not know. I was told to leave him alone, or rather begged. A part of him is dying with Legolas and I do not think he knows how to handle it. I…I think he was sobbing when I left."

"It's going to kill him," Elrond whispered closing his eyes trying to block out the image of his son crying brokenly.

"What will?" Elrohir asked softly, knowing all too well the answer to his question.

"Should Legolas not recover…more happened to him than we know and I think somehow Estel knows this deep in his heart. A part of him is mourning for the loss. Perhaps he has already accepted a truth we so wish to deny."

"And what truth is that?"

"That this is truly the end. That Legolas will not be able pull through this like so many times before. Not all injuries can be healed with salves and herbs. Sometimes, the wounds run too deep to reach. Only time will tell, but perhaps...hope is really lost."

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