Disclaimer, Notes and Acknowledgements: Please refer to Chapter 1

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Chapter 4 – Misdiagnosis

Elladan was already armed with various healing herbs and utensils when Elrohir settled the incoherent and almost unconscious wood elf onto the bed. Aragorn, however, was looking around with wild and searching eyes.

"Where is father? Why is he not here!" The human asked in a near frantic voice, but before any of his brothers could answer him, the man twirled around and his gaze settled on the prone elf on the bed. "I swear the needle and knife were clean! I made sure that I did everything correctly!" The string of words flowed out of his mouth and suddenly Aragorn turned towards his older brother with a deep frown etched onto his worried face. "What went wrong!" he asked as his fingers unconsciously latched themselves onto Elladan's forearms, digging painfully into the elf's flesh. "Do you know what went wrong!"

It took the dark haired elf a moment to pry the human off him and pushed him into a nearby chair. "One question at a time, Estel." Elladan crouched down beside his little brother. "Father was called to Lorien for an urgent meeting yesterday. But worry not, Elrohir and I are more than capable of handling this little emergency..." Elladan trailed off and stole a glance at his twin, who was cutting away the bandage carefully from Legolas' swollen hand.

Aragorn wiggled on his seat with the intention of getting out of the piece of furniture and to his friend's side, when Elladan pressed him back down forcefully. "You either sit here and stay out of our way, or we'll be forced to throw you out."

Aragorn slumped back into the chair with an exasperated sigh. He knew that tone of voice and it usually meant business. There was no room for arguments. Elladan had won again. So he sat obediently as Elladan left him and hurriedly joined his twin.

The two brothers conversed softly but urgently with each other, occasionally reaching out a hand to check Legolas' temperature and pulse, or peering into his glazed silver-blue eyes. Several minutes later, the twins seemed to have come to a conclusion as they nodded at the other. The elder twin went over to the table and quickly prepared a mild sedative. They would rather not have the prince conscious while they performed the painful procedure.

After some unsuccessful attempts on Legolas's part, the twins managed to force the drink down the stubborn elf's throat and, within seconds, the prince succumbed to the effect of the tea.

With a small sigh of relief, Elrohir picked up a small knife from the healing utensils that were spread out on the table. He ran the blade over the candle fire to disinfect it. Wielding the knife in his right hand, he let it cool a little before lifting Legolas' injured hand and pressing the tip of the blade into the prince's palm, slicing it open with practiced ease.

Dark, almost black, blood oozed from the wound and Aragorn grimaced as Elladan caught the poisoned blood with a basin, as his twin continued to draw out the liquid and allowed it to drip off the blonde elf's fingertips. Gradually, to everyone's relief, the blood flowing from the deep cut turned from dark to bright red, indicating that they had successfully removed all traces of poison in Legolas' swollen hand. With the gruesome task done, Elrohir wiped the remaining blood from the prince's hand while Elladan prepared a bowl of herbal mixture to bathe the wound in before stitching it closed.

Aragorn watched with anticipation as Legolas' hand was bandaged and tucked beneath the blanket. When that was done, Elladan placed one hand on the elven prince's chest and the other on his forehead. Elrohir, in turn, rested his right hand over Legolas' bandaged hand and placed his left hand on the back of his twin's shoulder. Together, the brothers channeled their healing energies into their injured friend in an attempt to force out the remaining poison in his body.

The ritual did not last long and, when Aragorn saw that his brothers were done, he sprang to his feet and in a few quick strides made his way to the bed. "Will he be all right?" The man asked rather shakily.

The slight tremor in the human's voice directed Elrohir's attention to the young man. Setting aside the towel that he was using to dry his sweaty hands, the tall elf moved to his brother's side and patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Worry not, brother, Legolas will be fine in time. Though I must ask..." he trailed off as he saw Elladan move out of the room, no doubt to prepare the foul tasting herbal tea that would counter the remaining poison in the prince's body. "Are you sure it was a splinter that you removed and not a thorn?"

With his mouth slightly ajar, Aragorn was about to confirm his diagnosis when the frown on Elrohir's face made him think twice. Closing his mouth slowly, the man played yesterday's situation over in his mind. The fragment was about half an inch in length, a little long for a thorn but rather strong for a splinter. A frown worked gradually onto the human's features as he mentally tried to discern between a thorn and splinter.

Elrohir watched with sympathy as the man's frown deepened. With a soft laugh, the elf asked the stumped ranger. "Have you forgotten what Adar told you about the Cyprius trees? Or were you sleeping during that particular lesson?" he teased and watched with a smirk as Aragorn's face turned swiftly red from embarrassment.

'Dear Valar! Cyprius trees!' How could he have forgotten all about that? Elrond had specifically drilled that lesson into him. The thorns of a Cyprius tree were very thin but sharp. It would easily pierce a person's skin and was often being mistaken for a splinter due to its appearance. To make things worse, the thorns of a Cyprius tree were poisonous! Aragorn suddenly had the urge to bang his head on the table. How could he have missed it? It was so obvious! Sighing for the umpteenth time since they returned home, the ranger sank into the chair beside the bed and ran his hands over his tired face, suddenly having this urge to bang his head against something solid.

Giving the human a gentle pat on the shoulder, Elrohir proceeded to clean out the bloody basin and returned the clean utensil to the table while waiting for Aragorn to come to terms with his mistake.

"It could have cost him his arm," the man said with a small whisper, his voice shaky from the shocked of his error.

"It could have, but it didn't. You got him back in time."

Elladan chose this moment to make an appearance, much to Elrohir's relief, for he was sure that Aragorn was going to launch into one of his I-am-an-idiot modes. The elder twin was carrying a pitcher of water and a cup of steaming concoction. The pungent smell from the herbal mixture was slowing diffusing into the air in the room, making Aragorn cringe. The man fervently hoped that the tea would not taste as bad as it smelled. Legolas would not be happy when he was forced to drink that horrid medicine. And it was all his fault. After watching Elladan set the items on the table, Aragorn turned his attention back to his friend and was surprised to see Legolas struggling to wakefulness.

TBC…