Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Lord of the Rings.
Note: Thanks for the reviews. I am glad that people like Legolas as I see him. Let's begin.
A hand on his burning forehead made Aragorn moan. The motions that kept rocking him were making him nauseous and dizzy even as he lay there with his eyes closed. His throat was parched and he swallowed thickly.
Soft voices refused to focus beyond a hazy murmur and whatever light came through in patched in what no doubt was a canopy of leaves above his head was making his head hurt. He gave a low moan as his stomach rolled unpleasantly.
"My lord, he is waking." The low voice close by jogged something in his memory but Aragorn could not be sure what it was.
His stomach flared with pain and his back arched in responds.
"Put him down carefully…." Aragorn nearly cried out as he was jostled. Within moments the haze clouded in his mind, pushing away all remainders of sleep. A hand slipped in between his own and despite himself or the stranger Aragorn squeezed.
The hand was smooth but Aragorn somehow knew that this hand was used to wielding weapons, a bow or the like. "Aragorn, can you understand me?"
The man had to will open his eyes to focus on the blind haze around him. The light was too strong; it hurt his eyes and made him moan with a new flash of pain. He couldn't see past some spots that danced around his vision as he nearly screamed.
"He is not awake, my lord. We have to get him back to the palace where the healers can attend to him. His fever is refusing to break and I do not like the look of that wound…." The soft voice was heavily accented and Aragorn had trouble focusing upon the words.
"Can you give him any more of pain medication? It might keep him comfortable for the remainder of the trip…." The voice he had heard earlier when he had first woke up, spoke closer to Aragorn's ear, as if he was sitting beside Aragorn. The man tossed his head to the side, trying to focus on the voices.
"My lord, I have never studied the healing arts with one of the race of men. For me to over drug him would be disastrous, especially if it is true who you say he is."
"Yes, I suppose so. I just do not like seeing him in pain. The next path will be rockier…"
"Then why can we not go through the open paths and must we take this back road? It would be much swifter…"
"And much more dangerous. These roads are not nearly as well protected as they have been before. Do you think that you can manage to keep him comfortable?" Aragorn struggled to remain awake but the exhaustion was overcoming him. The last bit he was aware of before he slipped off was the hand against his cheek and the softly murmured elvish.
XX
The elves that came back from the border of the Misty Mountains proceeded slowly for the barge they bore with them was heavy and the patient, the young human they carried, cried out every time he was jostle a little.
The sweat soaked dark hair and the dull cloudy grey eyes locked with his blue ones made Legolas a trifle uncomfortable. He had never seen such pain or such youth in a child of men before and he had seen many. Most he had seen came from Lake Town and they were unaccustomed and uncomfortable around the First Born but not this one.
Aragorn was a child of Elrond, raised as one of the elven lord's sons and he had grown up around elves. To turn to them for comfort and aid, well it made Legolas feel uncomfortable. Rarely had he felt such trust in one his friends of warriors clenching his hand when they were wounded but this child…this young one did the same, grasping his hand like it was nothing even if Aragorn was clearly delusional as he thought he was in Lord Elrond's home.
"Ada." Aragorn murmured softly, his head turning from side to side and Legolas softly spoke.
"Hush, soon you will be safe!" The hand that was now resting gently on the man's forearm squeezed as Legolas slowly rose from his spot besides Aragorn.
"We move forward." He ordered, going towards the brown steed that was his own. They had hidden their horses a little but further as they went scouting. The two elves that had carried the barge were careful with it, padded as it was with extra blankets but because of the nature of Aragorn's wound, the infected deep gash across the young male's stomach, he was prone to fits of pain.
The fever the man had developed over the past few days refused to break and while they kept him drugged most of the time, Legolas knew Aragorn must feel very uncomfortable. They were not far from the palace, where the healers could attend to the young human and hopefully get him better again.
Legolas did not wish to be the one to deliver the news to Lord Elrond if his foster son did not survive. Aragorn had to, he simply had to, there was too much at stake.
He mounted his horse and allowed most of his company to pass him so he could ride behind the elves on foot. He did this so he could keep an eye on Aragorn. He prayed the man would be unconscious enough that the journey would not stay with him even as he was being ill.
Aragorn moaned as they managed to make their way past a difficult area. The man's head lolled to the side weakly, his chapped lips parted in a silent cry. The grayish sweaty skin made Legolas uneasy with how ill the man was.
He urged the horse slightly faster, hoping to get home soon. They had been away for weeks, following the movements of the orcs that gathered in the Misty Mountains. Before the first snow fell, the orcs had to be caught or killed. They were attacking the travelers that passed through and the elves that traded with the human settlements near the base of the mountains.
"How long until we reach the palace, Hiror?" Legolas directed his question at his scout who returned to him. The younger dark haired elf bowed before he answered.
"A little under two hours, my lord." Legolas gave a nod. He turned back to look at Aragorn and softly said as the man fidgeted. "Just hold on, Aragorn, soon we will have you with the healers."
XX
Coming home for Legolas was usually a silent affair, with him reporting in on his duty with king Thranduil before retiring to his bed or the healing wing, depending on how he came home. Yet now, Legolas was forced to offer his report in the entrance hall of the grand majestic palace.
The entrance hall was decorated with various elves, guards of the palace and Legolas' own guards. The big staircase that led to the upper levels and the family quarters. The heavy doors that led outside and the big doors that led to the other parts of the palace and the courtroom and throne room.
Currently the stern king of Mirkwood was standing before Legolas, his green eyes narrowed as he took in Legolas' appearance. Yet the tall, broad shoulder, blond elf could not find any wounds. Thranduil's eyes narrowed even more as he asked, drawing himself up to his full height.
"What happened?"
"This Dunedin was under attack and we saved him, my lord."
"Yes, I can see that you saved him but I still do not know what happened." Thranduil's deep voice hardened and Legolas sighed.
"The orcs we were tracking attacking him as he was making his way through the passes. They must have been tracking him for quite some time. He was set up in a trap and injured severely. We brought him back to our camp site but the wound got infected and he developed a fever. We tried to break his fever but it refused to break and…."
"And why bring him here?" Thranduil's voice had hardened even more and Legolas' eyes flew up to meet those of his sire. The king stared back at him, unflinching and finally Legolas said.
"He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and foster son of Elrond of Imladris, Adar." The soft word slipped between them and Legolas could see Thranduil softening slightly as the king rested a hand on his son's shoulder.
"I am glad that you have returned safely, Legolas. It is good to have you home yet I had not expected you home for months." The king's eyes hardened again and Legolas could see the moment between them had passed. His own eyes hardened and his anger grew. He reined it in, keeping it under check as he said.
"This man was wounded and he would have died had we not returned home. My men did not have the skills necessary to break the fever through we tried. We were weary and in need of rest….we had been away from the palace for many months…."
"Then you disobeyed my orders, prince!"
Fighting the urge to argue with Thranduil, the urge every child had, Legolas took a step back and bowed, knowing that the gesture pained Thranduil just as much as the distance he was now putting between them as he said. "Then punish me as you see fit, my lord."
The lines in Thranduil's face tightened and the king snapped out a command. "Bygone with you!"
With another nod and a bow Legolas departed from the room to his own rooms. His clothes smelled and he longed for a hot bath but his thoughts returned to Aragorn. Would the man wake up, delusional and confused with where he was? He would be all alone for soon the healers would retire for the day if they had done everything they felt they could for the young ranger.
Somebody should stay with him and Legolas sighed, knowing it would most likely be him. He smiled at himself and pushed open the door to his quarters, nodding at one of the servants before he said. "Put some fresh clothes out and a basin of water." He had somebody to check up on.
XX
The smell that always clung to the infirmary reminded Legolas of weeks spend here when he had been shot on his first patrol, or the time he had broken his leg when he had fallen from a tree when he had tried to jump to another branch because of a dare. Most of these times he remembered his father sitting with him, scowling him and being worried. He sighed, what had happened between him and Thranduil that had caused their relationship to be so tense?
The only one in the infirmary was Aragorn who was lying on a bed, the sheets pulled up to his chest. The young man was tossing and turning as one of the healers sat by the bedside, stroking back his hair.
"How does he fare?" Legolas kept his voice soft and the healer turned and bowed.
"We have threaded the wound and the infection, my prince. It is only a matter of time to see if the fever will break. We have done everything we can and now it is up to him to see if he will live or not." Legolas gave a nod.
"See to it that you make sure that he does not want for anything. He is my guest…"
"Yes, my prince, I will see to it myself."
"Good, is there anything more aid that Aragorn requires?"
"Except a miracle, my prince, nothing that we can do."
"Good, then you may retire. I will sit with him. I can call you when his conditions changes or worsens." The healer gave Legolas a relieved now and Legolas drew up the comfortable chair as he sat down. The sweat soaked skin and the dark hair that clung to Aragorn's brow did not look any different from this afternoon. The lines in the young man's face had tightened with pain and absent minded Legolas petted Aragorn's hand, praying that Aragorn was offered rest from whatever plagued him.
XX
Time passed for Legolas as he dozed in the chair and for a while watched the sun set behind the trees and a servant came to light the torches so the infirmary was batted in a soft light. Legolas was alone for most of the time for Aragorn slept fitfully, sometimes tossing and turning and murmuring things under his breath.
A knock on the door alerted him to the presence of another and Legolas turned. He rose the moment he saw it was Thranduil. His back eased in the familiar bow but the slender hand waved the formality away.
Thranduil entered, gracefully closing the door behind him before he spoke, voice deep. "I am sorry for the way I reacted earlier, Legolas. I should not have said such a thing. You were right in returning home when you found this human….He is of great importance and the impact if he were to die would be dreadful."
Legolas gave a nod and Thranduil approached the bed, laying a gentle hand on Legolas' shoulder as the younger elf sat down. "How is he?"
"The healers say they have done everything they can. It is a matter of time now."
"Time will tell if he will make it?" Thranduil pulled a chair to himself and sat down as well, his green eyes passing over Aragorn's still form.
"Yes, they hope his fever breaks soon. I am to call them when his condition changes."
"You should rest, ion nin."
"I have no need of rest, Adar. I cannot sleep knowing that Aragorn is here alone. He is young and is most likely confused, he can injure himself."
"Be careful, Legolas, you know nothing of this man…." Thranduil's voice was soft but filled with warning as the man they were discussing cried out. The cry was soft and the grey eyes opened, dull and flushed with fever as they looked around, trying to find anything familiar as Aragorn said in a hoarse voice. "Ada?"
Legolas started as did Thranduil and as Legolas leaned forward, intent on reassuring Aragorn, the younger man's eyes locked on Thranduil and then he asked in a small voice yet with no recognition in his eyes. "Ada?"
Legolas wondered what his father would make of it until Thranduil leaned forward and one of the king's hands rested on Aragorn's sweaty palm. Lowering his voice Thranduil softly said. "It is alright, Aragorn, I am here. You are safe, go back to sleep, little one."
His father's green eyes were focused on the grey ones and then Thranduil repeated. "You are safe, little one. Go to sleep." Relief flooded Aragorn's eyes as the man closed them again, relaxing while tightening his hold on Thranduil's hand, surprised through Legolas was, he relaxed back in his seat and allowed the night to pass, keeping a vigil over Aragorn together with Thranduil as they hoped the young man would be alright.
That is it for now. I kind of had to knock Aragorn out. So review of course. Next chapter, what will Aragorn does when he wakes up and does not only find the prince but the king of Mirkwood at his bedside? Have a good new year.