Standing next to a tree, Legolas found that he had not the strength to climb it.

Aragorn had made them stop for a rest, for the Elf's sake, and Legolas had automatically headed for the comfort and safety of the trees…only to be reduced to simply staring at it.

These trees do not comfort me, he thought. They do not speak.

Easing himself to the grass, he settled for simply sitting against it instead. Raising a hand, he placed it on the tree's bark, searching deep within himself to see if he could hear anything from the tree.

He heard nothing.

Sighing, Legolas turned onto his side, feeling rejected. Leaning the side of his face against the bark, he watched as Aragorn prepared more of his painkiller.

If only the medicine worked! Legolas hadn't the heart to tell his friend that the remedy had done nothing for his pain…if anything, his head was hurting worse.

"Here."

A hand touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes, only now realizing that he'd closed them. Taking the cup, Legolas frowned at the fact that he hadn't heard his friend's steps over the pounding in his head.

As he drank, Aragorn felt his forehead. "No fever. This is a strange affliction that grips you, mellon nin."

"Aye," Legolas agreed, handing his friend the empty cup. Shifting his body, he settled deeper against the tree, ignoring the fact that the sap and dirt was soiling his clothes as well as his face. His head hurt so badly that he actually didn't care.

"You have me very worried, Legolas."

The Elf looked towards his friend, trying not to move his head. "Tis not as bad as you think," he lied. "I am simply tiring, from having little sleep these past two nights."

Aragorn frowned, but said nothing.

Legolas wished that his friend would stop watching him, as he didn't think that he could keep up the façade for much longer.

"I think I should take you to my father," Aragorn suddenly said.

"That is not necessary," Legolas found himself replying, even though his mind agreed with the human. "I will be fine, Estel."

"How do you know?" Aragorn exclaimed. "You don't even know what's wrong!"

Legolas had no answer for that.

"We are just as far from Rivendell as we are from Mirkwood," Aragorn realized. "We'll continue through this forest and begin heading northwest. My father may be able to help you."

Legolas sighed. "All right."

Aragorn was surprised that his friend—someone who normally hid pain until he was nearly half-dead with it—gave in so easily. Why would he agree so quickly? "The herbs are not helping," he suddenly realized.

Legolas opened his mouth to disagree, but Aragorn cut him off.

"Come," the human said, standing and taking his arm. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive home."

Legolas allowed his friend to assist him, but as soon as he made it to his feet, the world spun and tilted dangerously.

Aragorn hadn't quite expected it, still not knowing the full extent of the Elf's pain, and almost didn't catch him in time. Wrapping an arm around his friend's waist, he pulled Legolas' arm over his shoulder and made his way towards the horses.

Legolas' vision started to come back when they reached the animals, and he protested when Aragorn intended for them to ride together.

"It has passed," Legolas told him. "I can ride alone. We will make better time that way."

Aragorn saw truth in the statement, and helped him to mount his own steed. Taking the reins of both horses, Aragorn kicked his into a fast walk.

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will his pain away. He didn't have them closed for very long, for Aragorn suddenly stopped, looking off to the right.

Legolas followed his gaze, his eyes widening at what he saw—what his senses had neglected to inform him of, thanks to his pain…

Orcs.

Automatically reaching behind himself, he grabbed his bow and notched an arrow to the string. His head screamed in pain at the motion as he fired—

—and missed.

Aragorn looked at his friend in utter shock. Legolas had never missed a target in all the years that he'd known him. He has been lying to me! He must be in agony for the pain to ruin his aim!

Grabbing both horses reins; Aragorn turned and galloped off rather than fight. If Legolas couldn't defend himself, he'd be as good as dead.

The fast gallop of the horses sent waves of excruciating pain through Legolas' head, and his resolve finally broke. Clutching the horse's neck, he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Aragorn saw him slump over and quickly grabbed his arm, not wanting him to fall off the horse.

The sound of the orcs behind them vanished as the distance between them grew. Aragorn and Legolas would have no problem outrunning them, but for the fact that Legolas would obviously not be able to endure the fast pace for long.

A few minutes later, Aragorn tugged his horse to a stop, looking to his friend. "Legolas?"

The Elf was incapable of speaking, eyes still shut tightly against the horrible pain in his skull.

Aragorn again felt his friend's forehead, noting the absence of fever. It cannot be poison then, he knew. What could be causing this?

Looking around the landscape, he realized that they'd entered an area of very rocky terrain. Hoping that there was a cave nearby, he kicked the horse into a slow walk, surveying the scenery.

A soft cry of pain sounded, and Aragorn felt anxiety grip his chest. Legolas was a proud being, and though Aragorn's fears of his friend's condition were finally confirmed, it was terrible to see the extent of his suffering.

Little did the human know that it would get much, much worse…