Legolas was slightly aware of his surroundings as Aragorn packed up the campsite the next morning. The Elf could hear muted sounds through his sleep; a horse whinny, Aragorn kicking dirt over the fire…

He felt detached from his body, as if he were no longer inside it. He didn't mind, though, as he knew that there was a good reason for him to stay in such a state…the forgotten reason suddenly presented itself, when pain slammed into his head, making him gasp in shock and agony.

Aragorn quickly let go of his friend, who he'd been starting to lift. "Legolas?!" he exclaimed.

The Elf drew up his arms, digging the heels of his palms against his eyes. "Can't you make it stop?!" he gasped.

Aragorn felt a stab of guilt, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Legolas was a proud being, and would never make such a statement…it only proved how truly unbearable his pain was.

"I wish I could, mellon nin!" he answered, gripping his friend's shoulder. "I am sure that my father will be able to help you! Come, let us leave."

He attempted to lift Legolas again, but the Elf gave another pained cry.

Sighing, Aragorn waited for his friend's pain to lessen, hoping that it would do so quickly.

The few minutes seemed like an eternity to the suffering Elf, as the sharp, searing agony lessened to a pounding throb. It felt to the Elf as though there were a heart pulsing inside his head, stabbing him with each beat.

"Sorry…" he suddenly mumbled.

Aragorn barely heard the whisper, and lowered his head closer to his friend. "I did not hear you."

Legolas repeated it, and Aragorn frowned. "Sorry for what?" He realized what the Elf meant, and sighed. "Do not apologize, mellon nin, I wish I had a way to stop your pain."

Legolas wanted to say more, to reassure his friend that he hadn’t meant to cause him guilt, but he had not the strength.

Aragorn saw this, and reached out for him again, gently picking Legolas up.

The Elf squeezed his eyes shut when his head was moved, but forced himself to make no sound.

Aragorn turned to walk the short distance to his horse, but was surprised to find the animal already kneeling behind them. Smiling, he mounted carefully, trying not to jostle Legolas in the process. Patting the animal's mane as it stood, Aragorn told him what a good horse he was.

He received a whinny for an answer, and they were off again, towards Rivendell.

********************

They rode nonstop through the day, trying to go as fast as Legolas' pain would allow them. Aragorn had resorted to giving the Elf another light dose of the sleeping herbs, with the hope that it would enable him to ride faster without causing his friend more pain. It appeared to work, as Legolas soon slipped into a dazed/half-asleep state.

The human was so intent on figuring out their exact distance from Rivendell, that he barely noticed when it began to rain once more. It was only when water started dripping into his eyes that Aragorn realized it, and he sighed at the injustice of it all. Grabbing the edge of his cloak, he swung it forward to cover his ailing friend.

The light dose of sleeping herbs didn't last as long as Aragorn had hoped. By midday, Legolas had begun shifting weakly but restlessly in his arms, an occasional breathless moan escaping his lips.

Keeping his balance while adjusting for his friend's unsettled movements demanded so much of Aragorn's attention that he hardly noticed that the day was waning. So focused was he, that he accidentally passed the path leading down into the Valley, not realizing it until his horse abruptly stopped and refused to take another step. Looking at their surroundings, Aragorn suddenly realized what he'd done.

His jaw literally dropped in shock, and he turned the horses around, searching out the path. He sighed inwardly, angry with himself for delaying his friend from getting the help that he so desperately needed.

"We are almost there, Legolas," he whispered. "Almost there."

********************

Elrond sighed, as he paced in his bedroom. It was very late, but he could not sleep. He felt very restless, and was unsure as to the cause.

Aragorn was with Legolas in Mirkwood, he knew, but he had the dreadful feeling that something had befallen them.

How do they manage to get into so much trouble? he wondered. What havoc have they happened upon—or caused—now?

An urgent knock suddenly sounded on his door, and the feeling of dread intensified as he ran towards it, to find his butler waiting nervously. "What is it?"

"Estel and Legolas are here," the Elf told him. "It appears that Legolas has been injured in some way!"

Not surprised, Elrond left his room, heading towards the house's entrance.

********************

Bursting into the front door, Aragorn opened his mouth to yell for his father, but saw that he didn't need to as Elrond came running towards him.

"What happened?!" Elrond exclaimed, alarmed at the paleness of Legolas' skin and his limp body.

"We journeyed south of Mirkwood to investigate rumors of a lifeless forest and silent trees!" Aragorn said, running alongside his father as they dashed down the hallway. "Their sap is toxic! It absorbed through his skin…"

Toxic sap…lifeless forest…this does not bode well, Elrond thought, stricken at the irony that the lighthearted, loveable Elf would meet his demise from a tree...a part of nature that Legolas so loved.

Nothing more was said as they burst into the room that Legolas used when he visited Rivendell.

Laying his friend on the bed, Aragorn stepped back to allow his father to examine him.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Elrond said, feeling the Elf's forehead, surprised to find no fever.

"He awoke with a headache the morning after sitting in one of the silent trees. It got progressively worse—though he refused to tell me."

"Was he in a tree that one night only?" Elrond asked.

Aragorn shook his head. "No, he climbed one the second night also."

Elrond sighed. "What are his other symptoms?"

"Nothing else…but father, the pain he suffers is unbelievable, completely unbearable at times."

Elrond was surprised that there were no other effects, and his son's words sent a chill down his spine. He'd known Legolas much longer than Aragorn did, and knew how the Elf downplayed his discomfort. For Aragorn to say something like that, Elrond knew that it was no exaggeration.

"None of my herbs lessened his pain," Aragorn continued, with a sigh.

Elrond looked at him, shocked to hear that. "Nothing you had offered any relief?"

Aragorn shook his head, looking upset.

Elrond echoed his sigh as he turned back to his patient. The poor young Elf had apparently suffered horribly. "Is he unconscious due to his ailment, or your herbs?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I can not tell, anymore. I gave him sleeping herbs, but a light dose. He'd started to come out of it, but not fully…"

The door suddenly opened, and the butler came in with the medical supplies that he knew Elrond would need.

Elrond nodded his thanks as he searched through them for an especially potent painkiller. With these stronger herbs, it was his hope that Legolas' pain would not be so bad when he next awoke.

Aragorn pulled the bedcovers over his friend as his father readied the medicine. Laying his hand on the Elf's shoulder, he was surprised when Legolas' features suddenly changed.

Elrond turned at the sound of a pained cry. Rushing back to the bed, he helped Aragorn hold Legolas down, who'd apparently awoken.

The suffering Elf had turned onto his side, holding his head, eyes closed tightly as he gasped in pain.

Aragorn turned stricken eyes to his father, who mirrored the look.

"Legolas," Elrond whispered. "You are safely in Rivendell. Please calm yourself! I have something to ease your pain."

Legolas made no indication of having heard him, so Elrond repeated it, smiling gently when his patient opened his eyes.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Aragorn slowly helped the Elf sit up high enough to drink the painkiller, pushing the cup back when Legolas choked; apparently the remedy did not have a pleasant taste.

Elrond was patient, holding the cup for him until Legolas drank it all. As Aragorn laid him back down, Elrond placed the cup on the nightstand and gently placed his hand on the younger Elf’s head, hoping the drug would work quickly.

Legolas said nothing, unable to speak. His pain was so excruciating that his arms, still encircling his head, were quivering.

“Is there nothing more that we can do?” Aragorn whispered, a hand on his friend’s arm.

Elrond shook his head. "Not at the moment. We need to wait to see if the drug works."

Aragorn had a feeling that he would say that, and couldn’t prevent a sigh.

For what seemed like an eternity they sat there, one on each side of Legolas, anxiously waiting for the drug to take effect—if it took effect—the fact that nothing else had helped the pain bothered Elrond greatly. This toxin was obviously resistant to drugs, so Elrond made it as potent as he dared; any stronger, and it could knock the Elf out for days.

Sighing, Elrond tightened his hold on Legolas' arm, wondering if the Elf knew that they were there. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Legolas abruptly stopped shaking.

"Legolas?" said Aragorn.

Elrond gently pulled the younger Elf's arm away from his head, trying to see his face, and unexpectedly met with no resistance.

Legolas had passed out.

Elrond frowned, immediately taking the Elf's wrist and feeling his pulse.

On the other side of the bed, Aragorn had done the same thing, and they both unconsciously held their breath as they waited to feel a beat.

After a few seconds of near panic, they felt it. Slow and weak, but it was there.

Gently laying Legolas' arm back on the bed, Elrond wondered if the dose had in fact been too strong for the weakened Elf, or if his body had simply been tired of suffering.

He suddenly heard Aragorn sigh, as the human looked towards the window at the darkness. Elrond knew exactly what his son was thinking. It's going to be a very long night…