Disclaimer, Notes and Acknowledgements: Please refer to Chapter 1

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Chapter 2 – A Turn for the Worst

Legolas felt the weather turning warmer and warmer as they traveled on, until the heat was making him slightly dizzy. Why wasn't Aragorn complaining? He was always the first to complain about hot weathers. Another wave of dizziness assaulted him and he staggered slightly, trying to regain his footing. Instinctively, the wood elf reached out to steady himself on his mount, but unfortunately, the horse had moved on without him. He did not realize that he had stopped walking. Stumbling sideways a little, he thanked whatever gods that were watching over him when his hand found a tree. Grabbing onto the woody plant, he promptly braced himself against the trunk before he made a fool of himself by sinking to the ground. He took deep, even breaths to calm his racing heart and swallowed convulsively when a sudden wave of nausea hit him without warning.

Aragorn slowed his pace when he realized that his companion had lagged behind. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he was alarmed to see his friend in the state of near collapse. With a few quick strides, he made it to the elf's side.

"Legolas? What's wrong?" Taking the elf's arm, Aragorn lowered him gently onto the ground. His face scrunched up in concern as he took in his friend's pallid complexion. Pressing his palm on Legolas' forehead to check his temperature, he was astonished to find the skin beneath his hand hot to the touch.

Legolas moaned softly when a cool hand was placed upon his brows. He allowed his burning eyes to drift shut but was pulled out of the daze when Aragorn shook him lightly.

"You are burning up! What happened?" When the elf turned his eyes upon the man, Aragorn noticed that the normally clear blue eyes were now glassy and slightly unfocused. Tapping Legolas gently on the cheek to gain his attention, the man tried again. "What ails you, my friend? Please tell me."

"Finger hurts..." Legolas finally managed after several seconds of being question. He could not believe that he had to admit to that eventually. He would definitely be mocked to death now.

"The splinter?"

When Legolas nodded, Aragorn lifted the elf's right hand and immediately realized that something was wrong. Legolas' hand was swollen and was warm to the touch, and the skin had turned an unhealthy shade of red. Quickly unbinding the index finger, Aragorn had to suppress a shocked gasp. The tissue around the incision he had made yesterday was purple and the finger had swollen to almost twice its original size. Dark blood oozed slowly from the cut when he pressed on the surrounding area lightly.

"When did this happen? Why didn't you say anything?!" Aragorn almost yelled at the elf, more out of fear than anger.

"I...I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. When I bandaged it, it was only inflamed," said the elf in a small, shaky voice. He felt like an elfling being reprimanded by his father for doing something wrong.

Aragorn inspected the wound closer but could not identify what was wrong, aside from that it was badly infected. The utensils he used to remove the splinter were sterile, he was absolutely sure of that. So what had happened then? Removing his pack, the man searched for the water canteen. Pouring a little water out on a bandage, he placed the damp cloth on the elf's forehead and helped Legolas take a sip of the water.

"I'm fine," insisted Legolas. "Just let me rest for a while and we can be on our way." Without allowing Aragorn a chance to retort, he let his eyes slip shut with a small sigh.

Aragorn shook his head at the elf's antics. His pride and stubbornness will one day be his downfall, thought the ranger. With nothing else he could do, Aragorn cleaned his friend's finger, applied more salve and re-bandaged it. He then eased the elf down onto his side. Legolas did not protest but allowed Aragorn to lower him down onto the grass. The man replaced the damp cloth on the elf's forehead after pouring more water on it.

After making sure that Legolas was resting comfortably, Aragorn unloaded the horses and allowed them to graze on a nearby patch of grass. It would be some time before they continued their journey. He wanted Legolas to get as much rest as they could afford. As much as he wanted to get home, he didn't want to risk aggravating Legolas's condition.

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, and it would be dark in a few hours. Aragorn did not have the heart to wake Legolas, but if they didn't make it back by nightfall, his brothers would most probably be sent out on a search and rescue party. He had no intention to be ‘rescued' by his brothers. In addition, he wanted to let his father have a look at Legolas as soon as possible. The elf's long slumber had him worried and his fever did not get any better. Thankfully, it did not get any worse, either.

Crouching down beside the elf, Aragorn said in a gentle whisper, "Mellon nín, it's time to wake up." The human watched as Legolas let out a small moan but did not wake. Reaching out and tapping his friend lightly on the arm, he tried again. "Legolas... come on... open your eyes..." the man coaxed the sleeping figure.

Ever so slowly, the elf pried his heavy lids open. "I'm awake,'' Legolas replied groggily as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. Pushing himself up a little too quickly, he regretted it immediately when the world around him started spinning out of control and he felt as if he were trapped in a barrel as it was tumbling down a waterfall. Clamping his eyes shut, the elven prince swallowed quickly to suppress the bile that threatened to rise from his throat. It wouldn't do his ego any good if he got sick now. After taking a few deep breaths, he risked opening his eyes a little and was relieved to find that his surrounding had returned to their original state. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, only to be greeted by pair of intense silver-green eyes that silently voiced their owner's worries and fear. Forcing a smile, Legolas opened his mouth to say something, but was promptly cut off by Aragorn.

"Don't say you're fine because I know you're not."

Accepting Aragorn's help, Legolas rose shakily to his feet.

The man steadied the wavering elf and gently brushed a lock of stray hair from his face. Legolas did not look well even after the rest. His face was still flushed with fever, and his eyes were cloudy and glazed. The areas beneath his eyes were puffy and slightly swollen, too.

Aragorn wrapped his arm around the weaken elf's waist and led him towards the horses. "I'm sorry, mellon nín, I don't know what went wrong. I was sure the knife and needle were clean..."

Legolas interrupted the man with a small wave of his uninjured hand. "You do not need to apologize for things that are out of your control. I trust your skill as a healer, and I'm sure you did everything right.''

Heartened by Legolas' words, the ranger gave his friend an appreciative smile. As they approached their mounts, Legolas noticed that most of their burden had been loaded onto Aragorn's horse, while his own horse only carried half of her original load. It was clear that Aragorn intended for him to ride. Legolas start to protest, but was silenced when Aragorn gave him 'the look' that told him that any attempt to dissuade the ranger would be futile. With a defeated sigh, the woodland being allowed the future king of men to help him mount. He was surprised how weak he actually felt and was secretly grateful for the human's aid.

"Try not to fall off.''

The human's attempted joke drew an indignant snort from Legolas, but the elf knew that there was some truth behind those words. He hoped that he could stay on the horse long enough for them to reach Rivendell.

After Aragorn made sure that his friend had settled securely on his horse, he gave the chestnut mare a pat on her neck. Then he took the rein of his own horse and the two companions began their journey home.

TBC…