~ A Race Against Time ~

Aerlaer stared at the King in dismay, and swishing her tail in annoyance, headbutted him in the shoulder. "Stop being dramatic and get on." Thranduil blinked his eyes open and barked out a mirthless laugh at her change in form.

"You cannot be serious?"

"If you don't get on, I'm going to drag you out by your ear with my teeth." She snapped them for emphasis, before kneeling, and glancing pointedly over her shoulder.

"It's pointless, you won't reach the campsite in time."

"Try me." She challenged. "I've slowed your adrenal system as much as I can safely, and the compression will help. I don't want Legolas to lose his father, now get on!"

With a glare, Thranduil crawled forward, settling his tall frame behind her withers. This is highly inappropriate." He muttered.

"Just hold on tight." She warned, rising to her full height, realising just how difficult this would be. The King was tall, his legs long. Hopefully he'd be able to grip on. Long fingers twined and anchored into her mane.

"Fly then, if you must." He drawled out, and so she did, racing, leaping and twisting a treacherous break-neck path out of the crumbling castle and through the still raging battle down the mountainside.

King Thranduil's life hung in the balance, and Aerlaer could not let him die. Could not let Legolas lose his father.

...

Swiping dust and ash from his eyes, Elrohir squinted at the cumbersome looking rider careening past on a very familiar horse.

"What are you doing!" He yelled out, hoping she would hear him.

"He's been poisoned, getting the antidote

!" Came Aerlaer's reply, followed by a grumpy rebutal from her rider for telling a nosy Noldor his business. Elrohir's retort was cut short by a horn blast from the Lorien contingent.

"Fall back, the Castle will soon fall!" Haldir's warning was loud and clear. Sighting Elladen below, Elrohir made his way to his brother; pausing again when he saw a fiery haired elleth fighting off three orc, backed against a still remaining wall of the castle. Seizing his bow, Elrohir let off two consecutive arrows, each finding their mark. The elleth turned, once the third orc lay dead at her feet, and Elrohir winked at her, before turning away. A pale, blonde haired elf caught his attention next; racing up and up through the crumbling ruins, clearly disregarding Haldir's order.

"Legolas!" Elrohir called, but the elf didn't slow. "Idiot Sinda!" He cursed, and raced after him, ducking under a half caved in entrance. "Legolas, get out of here!" Elrohir bellowed, as the ground moved beneath him; pillars beginning to topple in earnest.

"Aerlaer's in here!" He called back, voice panicked.

"She's not, I saw her!" Elrohir replied, choking on smoke and dust. "Get out of there!" Legolas appeared; eyes wild.

"Where is she?"

"Get out and I'll tell you. She's safe." He added, grabbing the other elf and hauling him back towards the entrance. There was a great crashing above and behind them, the earth shook beneath his feet, beginning to slide away, and Elrohir didn't think, but leapt, dragging Legolas over the crumbling ledge with him.

...

A thunderous rumble from behind, caused Aerlaer to wheel about, and Thranduil cried out in an anguish which shook her bones as much as the trembling earth. The King slipped to the ground, gasping.

"Thranduil, get up!" She commanded, but his attention was on the ruins of Amon Lanc. The once great elven city, collapsing in upon itself, flames licking at what remained of the rotting, aged wood. Another cry of anguish, and Aerlaer shifted, kneeling beside the King, watching the castle burn and crumble.

"It was my home." He whispered, tears glistening in his silver eyes. "Lith's home..."

"I know." Aerlaer murmured softly. She knew now the devastation of losing your home. She no longer had a place to call home. Not truly. Beads of sweat had formed on the King's brow, and his hands were shaking, sure signs the venom was taking hold. Aerlaer pressed a hand over his banaged wound, and focused on pulling the poison back, and shutting his lymph system down a little more. She dared not slow his heart, although it crossed her mind. "Let's keep going, we are still a ways from camp."

This time when she shifted, Thranduil didn't argue, but clambered onto her back, his grip alarmingly feeble. The venom was moving too fast, and so she would have to move faster. Faster than ever. "Wrap your arms about my neck, lean forward and whatever you do, don't let go."

"I'm no inept rider." He muttered, voice now shaky, another alarm bell.

"And I'm swifter than a Meara, so hold on!" Aerlaer rolled into a smooth canter, checking he held his balance, before progressing to a gallop, and finally, digging her hoofs in, an all out sprint.

Faster and faster, she drove herself, parallel to the fringe of the woodland, the wind whipping through her mane, comforted by the still tight grip of the King about her neck, yet, no, his balance was off...

"I'm slipping!" Thranduil gasped, and sure enough she felt him falling sideways. Aerlaer swung right, reseating him, and felt his knees try and fail to press for purchase against her sides. He was failing fast. The camp was only a league away now. He began slipping right, and she swerved left. How long could they keep this up?

"Hold on!" She urged, reseating him again, then simultaneously throwing her head up to prevent him slipping forward over her shoulder. His grip about her neck fell away and she skidded to a halt, shifting as he slid to the ground.

"Thranduil, get up!" She was at his side, jostling his shoulder. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his entire body seized. "Thranduil!" Aerlaer slapped his cheek, fighting back panic, and his eyes fluttered. "Where's the antidote?"

"Wh-what?"

"The spider antidote, at camp. Where is it?" She slapped again at his cheek and he groaned.

"Red... tent. Healer's tent..." He spoke slowly, shakily as if far away. Nodding, more to herself, because Thranduil had lost consciousness again, Aerlaer pushed him onto his back, and pressed her hand over his heart, his body had seized again, and to her horror, so had his heart. With a shove, Aerlaer pushed a significant amount of her life force straight into the failing organ, and the King jolted, eyes snapping open.

Golden threads of her life force twined around vibrant green, yet parts of each vinelike thread were touched by a rot, not so different to parts of the Greenwood. Aerlaer pushed further, pushing the rot back. There was a withstanding strength to the King's fea, reminding Aerlaer of an oak tree, and the way his lifeforce thrummed, it was as if it were the woodland itself... surely not...? "Thranduil," He gazed up at her, seemingly aware once more. "Is your fea tied to the Greenwood?" His eyes widened.

"Yes." He whispered, and Aerlaer swallowed hard, and leapt to her feet.

"I'll be back, don't you dare die."

...

"Wouldn't dream of it." Thranduil replied, but the Princess was already galloping away.

He drifted, for how long, minutes, an eternity, he did not know. All he knew was the woodland's own heartbeat, slowing, ever slowing, as time ran out.

He'd tied himself to the Greenwood to keep it safe, keep his people safe. Locked away in his palace, he was safe from true danger to hold back the evil, to slow its progression. Now? Now he could only hope his connection would not see the Greenwood fall. If... if he faded now... he would be with Lith again. Thranduil's heart ached at the thought, and then clenched. He couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, his chest grew tighter, and tighter. But, Legolas, he couldn't leave Legolas. He gasped, fighting, but it were as if his very bones constricted him.

"Don't die!" Light surged through him, jolted him, and he gasped, a silhouette above glowing golden. "Legolas can't lose you!" An elleth's voice cried out, and liquid spilled over his tongue. He spluttered, barely swallowing it through gasps for air. "Live! Come on!" Energy sparked through him once more, and Thranduil cried out, now feeling that raw energy tearing through him, like molten fire. Like dragonfire. A scream tore from his throat, the pain too much, but the forest, the Greenwood, he could not forsake the forest. He reached, and grasped onto the elleth, then he was falling into a dark abyss.

...

Legolas pulled Arod up fast, leaping from the saddle before the gelding had stopped, and dropped to the two elven bodies lying upon the earth. Hoofbeats slowed from behind him, and he heard the gasp of the healer who had accompanied him, along with Elrohir's cursing.

Kneeling between the two elves, he released a shaky breath, relieved to see Aerlaer's chest rising and falling, as did his own father's.

"There's a used vial of antitode." The healer, Erinor, murmured, dropping to the King's other side, and checking him over, pressed a hand over his heart. "Elbereth, he's glowing gold!"

"Aer, what have you done?" Legolas murmured, seeking out her lifeforce, and let out a sigh.

"I believe she saved my life." His father's voice rasped out, and made to rise, but Erinor, pushed him back.

"You are still unwell, my Lord." He warned.

"What happened?" Elrohir asked, while Legolas let some of his lifeforce flow into Aerlaer, frowning at the glowing green presence of the woodland, thrumming through her veins.

"I was stabbed by a poisoned blade. The Princess insisted on dragging me back here for the antidote." Thranduil explained.

"Then why is she passed out?" Legolas bit out, brushing hair from her face.

"I believe the poison had begun to stop my heart. I felt a great deal of energy poured into me." His father murmured, sounding exhausted. "Amon Lanc, is it done?" He added, quieter.

"The enemy has been defeated. Galadriel has cleansed the entire hill with water. The trees can now re-grow." Erinor replied, unwrapping the makeshift bandage from the King's chest.

"Very good." Thranduil muttered, watching Legolas. "Take her back to camp, so she may rest properly." Legolas gave a stiff nod, but it was Elrohir who swooped in, gathering Aerlaer up. With a shaky exhale, Legolas stood. He'd momentarily forgotten.

"Get on your horse, I'll pass her up to you." Elrohir said, looking at Legolas as if he were inept.

"Have I now been forgiven?" He replied, and took up Arod's reins, swinging up into the saddle.

"Mostly." Elrohir retorted, stepping in to place the unconscious elleth into his waiting arms. "The question is, does she forgive you?"

Legolas did not answer, but urged Arod into a steady canter, back to the camp. Perhaps, once Aerlaer awoke, and after he'd expressed his displeasure in her once again risking her life, she would let him explain everything.

...

A familiar presence surrounded Aerlaer when she stirred, head pounding as if her mind had been trampled upon. "Legolas?" She whispered, too tired to force her voice.

"I'm here." His words were a comforting murmur against her hair, and now she felt the steady beat of his heart, pressed against her back.

"Your father?"

"Alive." Lips pressed against her temple. "Sleep. We'll talk once you've recovered." Nodding, Aerlaer let her eyes fall closed, sleep dragging her away.

When Aerlaer next awoke, she was in an unfamiliar room, lying in a bed. Her head still throbbed, although the pain was bearable now. Slowly, she eased herself up, blinking the room into focus. It was a bedchamber, although the walls were stone, there was life in the walls, all around her. She was aware of it in a way which was not entirely normal. Where was Legolas? Where was anyone?

Slipping from the bed, she noted she wore an elven nightdress. Standing, her head spun, and she barely made it to the open door before she knelt to the floor, steadying herself. Awareness flooded through her, but of what? Of who? A door nearby clicked open, and footfalls came towards her.

"Aer." It was Legolas, and she let out a relieved breath.

"There's something wrong with me, my head-"

"You used a lot of lifeforce at once to save my father. You're still recovering." Legolas murmured, picking her up and carrying her back to the bed.

"No... this is different. There's something else, a presence in my mind." She whispered, once she was settled, rubbing at her temples. "Where are we?" She added, noting now the nearby sound of a small waterfall and an open balcony leading out into a garden. It was strange, but it felt familiar.

"The royal halls of Felegoth." Legolas replied, touching her forehead with a frown. "Should I fetch a healer?"

"Is Elrohir or Elladen here?"

"Not at present, they remained to treat any wounded at camp."

"Then why am I here?"

"My father insisted, and Galadriel agreed. You are here to simply rest. Something you've had little of in weeks."

"Neither have you." She countered. Legolas merely shrugged. "Would you like me to fetch a healer? I can have food brought, although, there is a bowl of fruit in the common area, I can bring it in if you wish to eat?"

"Perhaps some fruit." She decided, and he disappeared, returning in moments and setting the bowl on the bed. She took a berry, and nibbled at it, watching as he took a guard like stance some feet away. He was acting strange.

"What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"No?" He frowned, confused.

"You're not being yourself." He raised a brow. "You're distant." She didn't like it.

"I'm giving you space, since we're... well..." He sighed, and she closed her eyes, heart thumping now with both an ache of pain, but with longing too.

"I don't want space." She muttered, but refused to look at him.

"Neither do I." He admitted, but made no move to come closer. "But until we have spoken, until you will hear me out, it is better this way."

"Well, I am currently your captive audience." She sighed at his pained look. "I am ready to listen." She added softer, and Legolas let out a relieved sigh, taking a nervous step forward, clearly eager to explain.

"I should have told you about Tauriel, but truthfully, during the quest, during everything, she'd slipped my mind. Her uh, welcoming was entirely unexpected and unwanted."

"You loved her." Aerlaer murmured.

"I thought I did once, yes." He admitted. She swallowed the lump in her throat. The awareness flared in her mind and she rubbed at her head. "This conversation can wait; whatever ails you cannot. I'm fetching a healer." Legolas turned on his heel and strode from the chambers.

With a grimace, Aerlaer pushed the platter of fruit aside and curled in on herself upon the bed, head pounding once again, mind filled with everything all at once. What was happening to her?

It has been a minute or so since I updated this one. 3