Fast update! Yeay! :P Okay, no remarks for this chapter, only a huge thank you for all of my reviewers, followers, or any other who has interest in this story! :)

BETA: thewayfaringstrangers

Epic Elven Warrior Princess: Oh, because you were smashing your head against the wall ;) Please do tell more ;) In what way are you related to Legolas? :P

gginsc: Thanks ;) Love your review! :)

Jasper6509: Haha, who knows... ;)

Lazy Gaga: I'm glad it is ;) Though perhaps you will get some more answers/clues in this chapter ;)

ShadowHawq35: I'm glad you did like the solution! My beta did remark -justly- that it's not very Tolkien-ish, but it was too late to change the plot ;) Mmm, who knows? :P

Squiddy the Beth: Thank you very much, again ;) Find the hug in the chapter! ;)

TheButterflyCurse996: O-o. *weakly* But we sweared it on the precious... :P Wicked gift :P

Ynnealay: You saw well ;) But didn't Gandalf have a white staff made of wood? Or is there an english nuance here? Thank you very much! I just try to express the deep friendship between the two. Aragorn has never known a life without Legolas. :p Oh, and here is some Legolas for you ;)

Fever

"Baw! No, please! Saes! Saes, baw!"

Aragorn jerked awake. Confused, he took in his surroundings, trying to determine where he was. A table. A chair. Bookcases filled with knowledge about healing, history, foreign nations and even some linguistic studies. Maps on the wall. His study. He was in his study. So the panicked cries had only been a dream…

"No! Estel, saes baw! Estel! No! Estel!" Within a few seconds, Aragorn had opened the door and had sprinted towards the source of the cries, only to find Faramir already there, desperately trying to sooth the young elven prince. Immediately, Aragorn took a seat next to him, and started to sing an old lullaby. It had always helped to calm Legolas down when he was wounded again, and in the process, it worked its healing powers on the ranger too, who might not be hurting physically, but certainly was emotionally at the sight of his proud friend in pain.

This time however, it didn't work. The elf's distressed cries were almost painful to hear. His face was distorted in pain, and every time Aragorn tried to reach out for him, to caress his cheek or to hold his hand to let him know he was not alone, Legolas jerked away from his touch. He seemed to be fighting something, for he was thrashing around wildly. To their dismay, the young elf grew more agitated by the minute.

"Baw! Estel, Estel! Baw!" Seeing his song had no avail, Aragorn broke it off. Carefully, he pulled Legolas closer, ignoring the fearful protests and the nails that were scratching his skin. Holding his mouth almost against the elf's ear, he began whispering softly, in a rhythmic chant.

"Tìn na, Legolas. Tin na. Im sì. Tin na." (Hush, Legolas. I'm here. Hush.) The elf fought a little longer, squirming to break free from Aragorn's grip, but he found himself too weak to do so. Still, it wasn't only after a long time that the cries died into a pitiful whimpering, and his body stilled, even though his hands were still clutching Aragorn's shirt. Only a frown upon his fair features betrayed the discomfort that was still lingering in his body. His cheeks were still flushed with fever.

Worried, Aragorn pressed a damp cloth against his forehead. This raging fever was burning him up. They had to cool him down, otherwise he would not live through the next day.

"Faramir, please let a cold bath be prepared –it cannot be icy though. I think four buckets of cool water for one boiling will suffice."

"Immediately, my lord." The steward arose and disappeared through the door. Somewhere in the hall, the king could hear him talking to one of the servants, but he could not quite catch the words.

Not that he was trying to, actually. Gently, he started to unfasten Legolas' shirt, humming softly to send the elf deeper into a healing sleep. He grimaced when he found the cloth under his fingers damp and clammy. For an elf to sweat, his condition must be dire indeed! Quickly, he removed the wet clothing, and continued to do so until nothing but a thin blanket was covering him. Then he did the same with the trousers.

After he had finished undressing the elf, he waited, still singing softly.

He didn't have to sit there long though. Within a few minutes, Faramir came back, with the announcement that the bath was filled. Aragorn thanked him with a smile and a nod and embraced him elf-like, to express his gratitude for the steward's silent support, before wrapping Legolas's slim form in a soft fur. Carefully, he took him in his arms, but he could not prevent the elf's head lolling lifelessly back and forth. With a careful gesture, Aragorn secured him against his shoulder and began walking to the bathroom.

It wasn't far. A few days ago, they had moved Legolas to his own chambers. Since they knew the source of the plague, they had also understood no medicine or potion would heal the ill, not until they found the fifth element. Therefore, the healers could do nothing more than to make the patients as comfortable as they could – a task that could be easily taken over by Faramir and Arwen, together with the king. And as they had a faint hope that the familiar surroundings and scent would calm Legolas, they had decided to bring him to his own room, instead of leaving him in the Hallsof Healing.

And since Legolas had always been attentive to his personal hygiene – prissy, Aragorn would call it – his chambers were situated close to the royal bathroom.

Not that it mattered. Even in normal circumstances, Legolas would weigh no more than a child, but now, with his body wrecked and thinned by the prolonged disease, it was as if Aragorn were notcarrying a body at all. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the elf's ribs poking out under the skin.

With his elbow, attentive not to push Legolas head against the wood, Aragorn opened the door to the bathroom and knelt next to the marble bath. The place was a tad too luxurious for his ranger's taste, with little fountains and large, deep pools, all in marble and gold and turquoise, but Arwen and Legolas seemed to enjoy it, so they had not changed it. And besides, Aragorn had given his friends permission to use them as often as they wished, so that he didn't feel uncomfortable with having all these riches solely for himself.

Carefully, Aragorn took away the fur that was covering the elf and laid him down in a shallower part of the bath, with his head still on the edge. They were lucky. Usually, the pool was filled with warm water, welling from the hot spring in the mountain. Just before the plague hit however, Arwen had decided to let the bath be cleaned. In the chaos that followed, none had thought about refilling it, so that now they had been able to quickly pour cold water in it.

And indeed, the water felt deliciously cool. Legolas too, seemed to enjoy it, for his frowning diminished, and his body relaxed a little more. Gently, Aragorn splashed some water over his face. To his relief, he noticed the feverish red paling, and the breathing become easier. It seemed they had bought the elf some time.

Sighing, Aragorn leaned back, resting his head against a marble table. As he had done so many times, he began thinking again about the fifth element. Something powerful. Something pure. Something…

"My lord?" Aragorn sighed, opening his eyes.

"Yes, Elentìriel?"

"I thought you might need any assistance with dressing Legolas again? You have been sitting here for almost an hour," the maiden answered, casually leaning against the door frame. The Valar knew how long she had been standing there. Aragorn blinked.

"An hour already?" he murmured softly, before looking up at the elf. "I'll be find, thank you. Besides, I do not think it proper if…"

"If what? I saw Legolas naked? Come now, Estel. You know the habits of my kin. We are not nearly as prudish as you are." A mocking smile played around her lips, and Aragorn too grinned.

"Yes, I remember that all to clearly. But still, I can handle dressing Legolas. The only reason why I was sitting here so long, is because I was thinking about the fifth element." Elentìriel nodded.

"Ah, the fifth element. What a curse to be so close to a solution, and yet so far away! Did your dreaming produce any answers?" Elegantly, she walked over to the basin and sat down next to Aragorn, who sighed.

"I fear not. I have been thinking about any other tree that could have the same amount of the Spirit in it, but I could only come up with the Culumalda."

"Culumalda? Isn't that the tea lady Ioreth gave to Legolas the next day?"

"Yes. It was made of the bark. Apparently, it has some strong healing capabilities that even the elves don't know about. It has helped Legolas greatly."

"But it didn't take away the fever," Elentìriel pointed out. Aragorn shook his head.

"Indeed, it didn't take away the fever. But the cool bath seems to have succeeded in this." They were silent for a few moments, until the elf turned her head to him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Did you tell Mithrandir about the Culumalda?"

"Indeed I did."

"Then what did he say?" She was holding her voice perfectly under control. No one could have detected even the faintest trace of irritation in it, but Aragorn read the signs of her body all too clearly, and understood she was not into teasing today. He shook his head.

"Not pure enough. The soil that was nurturing the tree, had once been tainted by darkness." Elentìriel nodded thoughtfully, her eyes gazing in a distant memory.

"Yes, I remember. There has been a battle there, long ago. Is it still enough to spoil the Spirit?"

"According to Gandalf, yes."

"So we cannot take something out of nature. For almost every place had almost been plagued by battle."

"Except for Lorien."

"That's true," Elentìriel answered thoughtfully. "What about the Mallyrn?"

"If Galadriel were still on these shores, it would have worked, but together with her, a great deal of the magic and the Spirit have flown out of the Golden Wood. Lorien won't help us anymore."

They thought about the problem a little longer, until Aragorn looked down at Legolas. The elf seemed to be sleeping rather peacefully. Though there still was a frown upon his forehead, his cheeks were no longer flushed and he did not stir. Aragorn straightened.

"I'm going to bring Legolas back to bed. The bath has done a marvelous job."

"That's true, for certain. Look at how he sleeps! I think the sound of our voices soothes him. Do you need any help?" Aragorn began to dry Legolas' hair, before lifting him out of the water.

"Perhaps you can take the fur?" Together, they wrapped the young elf in the soft blanket, being so gentle that he barely moved. Only when Aragorn took him in his arms, he clutched his clothing with his hands, burrowing his face in the familiar scent. The king smiled down at him tenderly.

With the smoothest walk he could manage, he brought Legolas back to his room and tucked him in. Then he took his seat as before, and prepared to remain awake again through the day and the night, as he had done so many days before.

The prince was a fighter. Aragorn had knew this before, but it was in difficult times, he found himself fully appreciating the elf's power. Two weeks already, Legolas had been fighting the plague. He was one of the few elves who had managed to survive this long. Most died after a few days. Some lasted a week or more. But two weeks! Still, a nagging voice spoke, he wasn't out of danger. He was just fighting. And even so, one day his strength would be spent, and then… Don't think about it!

With all his strength, Aragorn focused on other thoughts. The fifth element, for example. As if he hadn't thought about it for days. He could dream about it now!
Suddenly, a flash of a memory came back to him. A feeling of comfort, and light. Aragorn frowned, trying to grasp the image, to unravel it further. Something white, and gold. A lady… the Lady Galadriel…. He had dreamt about her. She had smiled, and had said something to him. What had she said to him?

Desperately, Aragorn strived to recall her voice, but nothing came back. The whole dream was as sand between his fingers, slipping away. Images, feelings, a single sound… They were woven together, but many threads and colors were lacking in the tapestry.

What message had she given to him? Was it advice? Or had it just been a memory of their stay in Lorien, seemingly so many years ago? No, it was not a memory. She had spoken to him, and had opened her hand. She had held something in it, offering it to him… What was it? Aragorn cursed his mind. So close! He just had to remember… The slim hand. Her skin white as alabaster. Her dress lit up by a light… white… pure… glass. And then he saw.

"What are you doing?" Cursing loudly, Aragorn jumped and let his chair topple over. The wood hit the floor loudly, succeeding in something none of the healers could have done. It woke Legolas.

At the BANG of the chair, the elf jerked from his bed with a gasp, trembling a little. His eyes fluttered open confused, and he muttered something inaudible, looking around fearfully. Immediately, Aragorn knelt by his side.

"I am sorry, Legolas. I let the chair fall," he murmured guiltily, stroking the elf's hand. The prince turned his head to look at him. He was panting from the shock, and his eyes widened in fear when he found himself unable to take in enough air. Shakily, he breathed in again, willing himself to calm down, but a wheezing sound arose and the grasp around his chest tightened. He coughed.

Aragorn saw what was happening. Quickly, he helped Legolas upright and began rubbing his back in slow circles. Beneath his skilful fingers, he felt all muscles tensing.

"Easy, Legolas. Try to relax. It will ease your breathing. Relax. I'm here, don't worry. Relax. Try to breath in slowly. Slowly, Legolas. That's it. Now breath out. Good, very good. Calm down."

Under the tender administrations, the elf slowly relaxed. The pain around his chest disappeared, and he felt his former weakness catching up with him. His head fell back against Aragorn's shoulder as the soft rubbing soothed him. His eyes were closing again.

Somewhere, he knew he had to say something to his friend, a plea not to worry to much, but sleep overtook him, and his body slacked again. He barely registered Aragorn laying him upon his pillow again. Then, he fell back into darkness.

Regretfully, Aragorn watched his friend sinking back into oblivion once again. He continued to caress his face for a few more minutes, until he was certain Legolas didn't notice anything of it anymore. Then, he ducked and slowly set the chair right again. Meanwhile, Elentìriel was watching, her eyes dark with sorrow and guilt. Her voice was soft when she spoke again, as to make sure not to frighten him anymore.

"I am sorry, Estel. I thought… I thought you knew I was here." The pain was clear in her tone, and Aragorn could do nothing else but to shook his head and wave off the apology.

"It's alright. I have been… distracted."

"By what?" At her question, Aragorn looked up, smiling lightly.

"By the solution of our problem."

"The solution? Do you know… Do you know the fifth element?" The elf could barely contain her excitement, and Aragorn smiled more broadly.

"Yes… Well, actually, Lady Galadriel showed it to me, in a dream."

"What did she say?"

"She said nothing… or rather she did, but I cannot recall her words. But she showed me something. An object filled with joy and pureness. A phial with the light of Eärendil." Elentìriel laughed loudly and was almost dancing.

"Then we have it! Where is the phial now?"

"In Valinor, with Frodo." Aragorn answered smiling. Elentìriel's joyful expression turned into one of confusion.

"But Estel…"

"Yes, I know we can not go to the Blessed Lands. But I've been thinking further. The phial contains the light of a star - well, a starlike Silmaril. You are an elf, Tiri. You know better than me the purity of Elbereth'scrafting." The maiden looked at him as if he had gone mad.

"So you want to catch a star as fifth element?"

"Exactly." He saw her debating whether she should tell him that was impossible, or to leave him in his dream. Her mind made up, she started talking slowly, as if explaining something difficult to a little child.

"Aragorn, only the wisest of the elves could catch the light of the stars, and they have all sailed. We cannot pluck a star from heaven." Aragorn just grinned merrily.

"Oh, we can."

"Then how?"

Yes I know - I'm mean. *Runs and hides*

xXx Archiril