A/N Oh my goodness! Once upon a time I was updating long before midnight. Curse other people's FF (and just life in general) that make me want to read instead of update...

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter Fourteen

Right foot. Left foot. Then the right again. Twist on the heel, with the left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Twist, this time with the right. Left foot. Right foot…

The endless reputation of his feet had captured Aragorn's attention as he paced back and forth before the doors of Elrond's work room. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back and his eyes were dull as the flickered between the floor and the closed doors.

Elrond had finally kicked him out, insisted that they needed to work over Legolas without Aragorn hovering over them. The man had fought them, rather violently, but at last the older elf had won the battle. His use of Glorfindel and Erestor had helped a great deal. The two elves currently sat against the wall and were under order to watch the human and their eyes tracked Aragorn's repetitive movements, discussing (or more likely arguing) something softly.

Right foot, left foot. Right foot again. Twist.

The door opened with a click and Aragorn's head shot up, his feet freezing as his breath caught. Elrohir slipped out, beckoning Aragorn forward.

"Legolas is waking up. Ada says you can come back in." The words had hardly left his lips before Aragorn was pushing roughly past him and into the room.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called softly and Elrond, who was standing next to the table, looked up. Dark shadows lined his eyes and his pasture was slumped tiredly. He must have been exhausted, yet he was still working with all his might to save Legolas.

Leaning over the still elf, Aragorn smiled gently as the prince's head titled to the side. A distressed sound left his chapped lips and the man reached out, bracketing his clammy cold cheeks with his warmer hands.

"Hey, hey, Legolas," he said gently as yet again the elf whimpered. His eyelids flickered and the man's heart jumped. "You are at Imladris, Legolas. Ada is working on the cure. Hey, do you think you can open your eyes for me?" His words were loud, clear, and slow, giving the elf plenty of time to understand. He repeated the message in the same fashion until the puffy eyelids slit open just enough to show flash of blue.

"Yes, yes, that is it," Aragorn exclaimed excitedly. He clasped Legolas' hand, squeezing it with both of his. The prince whimpered, his mouth opening soundlessly even though his lips moved. Elornd ordered something, but Aragorn paid no attention. "Look at me, Legolas." The elf's eyes shifted slowly towards his and Aragorn squeezed his hand again. Reaching up and brushing back the lank, blond hair, he smiled reassuringly down at him. "We are helping you, you just have hold to on. Your will is strong, you just have to hold on." He endeavored to push as much hope as possible into the sentence, grasping the elf's hand a little tighter and smiling a little bigger.

A tap on his shoulder caused him look around. Elrond was offering a wet cloth and he took it gratefully. Wetting the cracked lips, Aragorn again offered a cheery grin

"We made it, Legolas! We made it to Rivendell just as I said we would." Legolas' fingers twitched in his and he folded them firmly into his as he brought them briefly to his lips. Legolas' lips again moved, but no sound was forth coming. A spark of frustration lighted the dull eyes for a split second and touched the cloth to his lips again."Hey, it is alright. We can talk when you are feeling better, alright?" The human squeezed a few drops of moisture between the prince's lips. "Ada is close, Legolas. Really close. Just think of your warriors and how they will soon be better."

Legolas' fingers were twitching once more. "Be calm, please, Legolas." The prince's swollen eyelids were dropping closed and another whimper escaped his lips. "You are going to alright, Legolas," Aragorn whispered as he wiped the excess liquid off his face. He could see the prince losing himself to darkness once more and he bowed his head, touching their brows together . "And you can't die, not now. Not after everything we have been through." The price's hand went slack in his and Elrond was there once more, carefully prying Legolas' fingers free of his.

"We are close, Estel," he said with a wan smile. No one mentioned that it might be too late for Legolas, no one wanted to consider that possibility.

Elrond and his healers moved in once again, but this time Aragorn was allowed to stay in the room but as they worked, he began to pace by the length of Legolas' bed, his feet finding comfort in the familiar pattern. Twisting his hands together roughly, he kept glancing over shoulders, tuning in to anything that was said as still another hour passed. Another hour later and his legs began to falter. Sinking to the floor, he rested his head on his knees.

He never intended to sleep, but the next thing he knew, someone was shaking him awake.

"Aragorn! Estel!"

"—What! What happened? Is, is it Legolas?" he cried, awakening in a flurry of limbs and falling sideways. Hands caught him, and he blinked his eyes open to find Elladan and Elrohir crouched next to him, wide grins splitting their faces.

"Ada did it, Estel! He did it! He found the cure!"

THEHANDSOFAHEALER

At first, all Legolas knew was pain. It radiated up from his chest and spread to every inch of his body. It consumed his world. But, like the slow trickling of honey from a slit in a jar, the agony began to dissipate. Voices began to weave their way into his mind, sometimes anxious, though at other times they were joyful. Fear, anguish, love, laughter, all these he was able to discern.

The pain remained a constant ache, never leaving him. Sometimes it would swell dramatically and the voices would dim, but in the end it also receded.

Eventually, he was able to pry his weighted eyes open. A figure swam into view. It took him a moment to recognize the him, but then it clicked. It was Lord Elrond, framed by the soft glow of the candle. He began to speak, but Legolas blinked and upon opening his eyes found Elrond replaced by Aragorn, who was smiling brightly. His eyes shut of their own accord, and Aragorn was gone.

It was like a confusing montage of images. Every time he forced his heavy eye lids open, someone was there. It was mainly Elrond and Aragorn, but the twins made their appearances regularly and once even Glorfindel and Erestor. Light and darkness battled over the background, and it was all very disjointing. One minute Elrond would be sitting on his left in the dark, the room lighted by candle, and wearing red robes only for Aragorn to take his place once he blinked. If he blinked again, Elrond would be back, this time one his right and wearing brown.

Bit by bit, he began to be able to leave his eyes open for longer amounts of time, though the pain would intensify for every fighting moment of awareness. His throat refused to open and speak; burning with such intensity every time he tried that he eventually gave up.

One night, he opened his eyes to find Aragorn's back to him as he talked quietly with who appeared to be the twins. Their voices washed over him like a calming wave and, for a moment, he was content with everything going on around him. Aragorn laughed loudly at something, and one of his brothers shed him decreasing the laugh to a low snicker.

"Legolas is asleep, Estel," he heard whom he thought was Elrohir rebuke, and then he was sliding back down the slippery slope of sleep.

The next time he awoke, he found the room empty and silent. Curious at the new change of events, he slowly twisted his head to the side and was reminded instantly that every move hurt. Pulling a sharp, gritting, gasp, he froze as his throat alight with unquenchable fire.

"Hey, Legolas, gentle now." As if appearing out of nowhere, Aragorn was there, leaning over him and taking his hand. He squeezed his hand tightly, brushing his hair back from his eyes. Legolas tried to speak, tried to say the man's name, but just like all the other times, his throat closed up. "You are alright, you just need to calm down," the man said, pressing his hand against his brow.

After a minute of fiery agony, Legolas felt the flare up dying and turned his head slowly to lock eyes with a widely smiling Aragorn.

"Are you finally going to stay awake for longer than a few minutes," the man asked, that foolish grin still stretching his face. He sat down on the side of the bed, tossing his book that he had been reading carelessly into the chair in the corner that he had just vacated. The elf settled for giving Aragorn a confused look, his mind struggling to keep up. "Legolas!" he began without waiting for a reply, "I don't think you remember, but Ada found the cure! He did it!"

The smallest of smiles began to grow across Legolas' face, and he allowed his eyes to slip shut in weary relief.

"You had better not be thinking of going back to sleep yet. Ada says that it is time for you to stop spending every hour sleeping. You have been out of it for almost two weeks now."

That got Legolas' attention and his eyes flew open.

"Two weeks!" he tried to exclaim, but his throat began to flame, and what words did manage to make it across his lips were low and rough. He would never had believed that it was it was his own voice had it not been for the fact that he felt and paid for each word dearly. He began to cough, the action tearing into his already battered and abused throat.

He felt Aragorn stand and panic seized him. Using what little strength he did have, Legolas flailed his fingers, trying to get the man to come back. A second later, a warm familiar hand closed around his own and clenched tight.

"I'm just going to get Ada, alright?" He heard the man say, but he only gripped the hand harder, refusing to let his friend go, even if it was for his own good. Aragorn sighed heavily, and then the bed dipped once more beneath his weight.

"Are you sure you don't need Ada?" Aragorn asked as he watched the elf take deep, shuddering breathes as the coughing eased. Legolas mouthed the word 'no' and then swallowed thickly. A grimace of distaste crossed his face and Aragorn stifled a smile. It wasn't often that the esteemed prince of Mirkwood made a face like that. He quickly sobered, though.

"You have been coughing up blood," he said, standing. Picking up a glass pitcher and a small glass, he turned to his friend. "You aren't allowed much at the moment but…" he trailed off as he sat back down with the glass. Only the bottom inch or so had been filled with water and he raised it in a question. Legolas nodded slowly, again making the face. "Just take it slow." The man slid an arm under behind the prince's head, lifting it off the pillow as he brought the cup to his lips.

Legolas allowed the cool water to pass between his cracked lips. It was bliss against his dry tongue and the salty after taste of blood. But as the liquid hit the back of his throat, he discovered the terrifying fact that he couldn't swallow.

Gagging on it, he began to choke and splutter and Aragorn quickly elevated his head higher, allowing the water to drain out before Legolas could manage to drown himself.

"Don't panic, just be calm," he said more than once as he waited impatiently for the elf to stop coughing. When he did, he gently lowered him back and grabbed a nearby towel and began to wipe at the water. Legolas shot him a glare, but the man only smiled as he dabbed at the water stains on the elf's tunic.

Legolas sighed, allowing his eyes to close. He was downright miserable. Aragorn was silent, and the elf cracked an eye, looking at him, expecting more from the man than this. He was idly spinning the glass in one hand.

"You gave us quiet the scare, you know?" he said after a minute as his eyes darkened, but they brightened again as he looked back down at his friend. "We almost lost you more times then I care to count. I don't know how many hours I spent begging you just to pull through. It was almost too late for you for the cure to have any effect." Legolas frowned, wondering where this conversation was going. "But you pulled through in the end..." Aragorn was quiet, his eyes expressive, before he suddenly straightened, all business once again as he sat the glass down. "Alright, Legolas, go to sleep We will talk more once you feel up to it." His fingers enclosed about Legolas' forearm, squeezing gently to assure him that he was alright, that he was safe. And then Legolas was once again sucked into the dream world.

To Be Concluded...

Aren't you guys happy? Legolas is going to be alright and is sleeping soundly, the poor thing. :)

This chapter wasn't my favorite, but just as a reminder, feel free to tell me how you felt about it and anything that went wrong or that you didn't like! I love getting constructive criticism. :)

Review Replies:

Lir: Well, now he is all better! Maybe not all the way better, but he better off then he was at the end of last chapter! :) Everyone is feeling happier and better, so you don't have to worry so much now. (Dude, review for me is a rarity (which I feel absolutely horrible for) but I went years, I repeat, years, of just being a guest silent reader. :) ) Thank you so much!

Lord Illyren: Well, I am fairly positive that you will be able to last to the next chapter without too much trouble. :) Alas, the cliffies are over until the next story... when they will without a doubt return with full force. Thank you so much!