Disclaimer, Notes and Acknowledgements: Please refer to Chapter 1

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Chapter 3 – Holding On

Their surroundings grew dimmer as they traveled on. Legolas knew that nightfall would be upon them soon, but fortunately they were only an hour or so from their destination. The rocking motion of his horse was making him slightly nauseated. He could feel cold sweat trickling down his neck and back, soaking into his tunic. The pounding headache that he had developed half an hour ago added to his misery. Not wanting to worry his friend, the elf had kept his latest ailment to himself.

Aragorn kept glancing worriedly at his friend while keeping pace with the horses. It seemed to him that Legolas had gone a shade paler since the last time he had looked at him which was less than five minutes ago. The elf was gripping the rein so tightly with his uninjured hand that his knuckles had turned white and his hand was trembling slightly, either from the strain or the weakness of the body, the ranger couldn't tell. Concerned for his friend's well being, Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas' knee and gave it a small squeeze, a gesture showing his genuine distress.

Legolas turned towards Aragorn, glazed silver-blue eyes trying to focus on the blurry image before him but failing miserably. So instead, he settled on forcing a smile at the general direction of his friend's face.

"I'm fine," he uttered. The most outrageous lie made even he himself cringe. Kicking himself mentally for not being able to come up with something more believable, he quickly averted his eyes and pretended that he was indeed all right, and that Aragorn's concern was overrated.

The ranger would have snorted if he weren't feeling so guilty for not realizing that something was amiss until his friend's collapse. He had wanted to abandon the game that Legolas' horse was bearing and ride home with the elf, but the stubborn-headed archer had refused none too politely. This had been the best hunt they had had for many, many months, and Legolas did not want to risk losing their catch, even though Aragorn said that someone could always come back to collect what they had to leave behind. However, Legolas did suggest that he could ride home himself, but the man had insisted that it was too risky. With the raging fever, Aragorn was surprised that the elf had managed to stay on his mount thus far. Therefore, they were back to where they began. Fortunately, they were almost home.

A cool night breeze swept over the trees. Legolas shivered involuntarily and pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders. The joints in his fingers ached so badly that he could hardly hold on to the reins any longer. To add on to his misery, his chest was becoming tighter, making breathing difficult. His vision swam sickeningly, and Legolas feared that he would topple off his horse at any moment.

Aragorn reached out to steady his swaying friend. "Hold on, my friend, we're almost home." Leading the animals towards the gate of The Last Homely House, the man let out a sigh of relief when he saw the gates open and his elven brothers rushing out to greet them.

"Estel! Legolas!" Elladan called out as he walked briskly towards the two friends, Elrohir closely behind him.

They had been alerted by the guards of their brother's and friend's return, but it was the state of their return that worried them. Knowing that Legolas would never take the horse and let Aragorn travel on foot unless something was very wrong, Elladan did a quick visual scan of the elven prince. Even in the fading light, the older twin could see that the Mirkwood elf was not faring well. The prince was hunched over the horse's neck and if not for Aragorn's support, Elladan doubted that he would be able to remain seated on his mount. The look on his human brother's face was enough to urge him on.

Quickly closing the distance between themselves and the two weary travelers, the twins took the reins of the horses and led them into the courtyard.

"What happened, Estel?" Elrohir asked anxiously as he pulled a semi-conscious Legolas off the horse, holding him upright as his knees gave way under his weight.

"I don't know! It was only a splinter, and I was sure that the knife and needle were properly disinfected and I made sure that I got everything out and..." the words rushed out of Aragorn's mouth in torrents, but before he could continue, Elladan stopped him.

"Slow down, brother! You're not making any sense!" Patting the distressed human on the shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, Elladan maneuvered him towards the house. "Let's get you two inside first. Then we will find out what happened."

But when Elrohir attempted to wrap his arm around Legolas' waist to support him, the delirious elf swatted annoyingly at the younger twin's hand.

"I can walk..." he mumbled and promptly staggered into the dark haired elf. Regaining his footing as fast as his uncooperative body would allow him, Legolas tried again, only to collapse into the waiting arms of Elrohir, almost falling flat on his face had his friend not caught him.

"Right. You can walk." Elrohir snorted loudly and hoisted the unsteady prince back onto his feet. "You either let me help you or you can crawl back into the house. Your choice," The young lord of Imladris threatened and watched with amusement when Legolas' mouth snapped shut as he quickly swallowed his intended protest.

Mumbling darkly under his breath, Legolas finally nodded his agreement. So, with the help of Elrohir, he made it into the house and into the healing wing without further incident, all the while mumbling something that sounded like 'a stupid splinter' to Elrohir. The dark haired elf shook his head with an exasperated sigh. He had no idea what the younger elf was talking about and, truth be told, he didn't think he wanted to know either. Perhaps later, but definitely not now.

TBC...