Elrond was concentrating so hard on what he was doing, that his Elven senses didn't even hear Aragorn coming until the human suddenly burst through the door. Elrond was so startled that a bottle containing a drug that he was hoping would aid in Legolas' recovery slipped from his hands, but he somehow managed to catch it before it hit the table.

Looking up at his son, the expression on Aragorn's face made him rush out the door and to Legolas' room before the human even had a chance to speak.

"He's bleeding, father!" Aragorn finally managed to tell him.

A sudden pain stabbed Elrond's chest at those words. He knew that Legolas would not have much time left if his brain was bleeding.

Rushing into the room, they ran to the bed, Elrond expecting to see blood coming from the unconscious Elf's ears or nose, but he was immensely relieved to see none. He saw the bruises forming on Legolas' forehead from the blood collecting under his skin, but it was a good sign that it was staying contained…

Though, all that meant was that Legolas' death wasn't immediately imminent.

"Father?" Aragorn said, knowing what the bruises meant but irrationally hoping that Elrond would deny it.

Elrond sighed. "His brain may be bleeding."

Aragorn felt his strength leave him at those words, and abruptly sat into the chair beside the bed. "May be?" he asked, the word giving him a slight ray of hope.

Elrond shot a glance at him, before returning his attention to Legolas. Gently touching his forehead, he found the bruising skin tender. His skin was also colder than usual. "Yes…or it could be that the toxin severely weakened blood vessels within his head, making them break. Estel, get some more blankets."

Aragorn leapt from his chair to comply, bringing them back quickly and helping his father lay them over the Elf.

"Watch him closely," Elrond said. "While I mix something to stop the bleeding."

Aragorn nodded, sitting on the bed.

Leaving the room, Elrond quickly ran back to his closet, gathering the herbs he was working with as well as some others, and hurriedly went back to Legolas' room.

He saw Aragorn still sitting on the bed as he crossed to a small table, placing each bottle down.

Aragorn watched his friend's face, desperately hoping that his father's medicine would halt the bleeding…and praying that it truly wasn't coming from his brain.

Elrond came back to the bed with a cup, and together they slowly fed it to the unconscious Elf, trying not to move his head too much. They were relieved when the Elf reflexively swallowed.

Taking the cup back to the table, Elrond picked up where he'd left off, working faster now that Legolas' condition had worsened.

Aragorn pulled the chair closer to the Elf's bed, never taking his eyes off him. Time elapsed slowly, but every minute that passed with Legolas steadily drawing breath encouraged Aragorn. My father will make an antidote, he thought. Legolas will be saved!

It wasn't until a few hours later that Elrond approached the bed again with a cup.

"The antidote?" Aragorn asked, anxiously.

Elrond sighed. "I cannot be sure until we see what effect it has on him." He was relieved to see that the bruising on Legolas' skin hadn't gotten much worse, which meant that the blood-clotting medicine had apparently worked; to an extent, at least.

Not asking questions, Aragorn slid his arm under the pillow that Legolas rested on, gently lifting it so as not to move the Elf's head.

Elrond poured the medicine into his mouth slowly, not wanting to accidentally choke him. Once finished, he helped Aragorn gently lower the pillow again.

For a few minutes they sat there silently, watching the motionless Elf.

"How long do you think it'll take to work?" Aragorn asked.

Elrond shook his head. "First it has to fight against the toxin, as you know," he said with a sigh. "I will not fool you, Estel, this may be a longer than usual recovery for Legolas." If the medicine works, he thought. He tried to avoid the thought that Legolas was too far gone…especially if it was his brain that was bleeding. What am I doing? he suddenly realized. Aragorn needs to know that it may not work…I cannot give him false hope. "Estel, ion nin…"

"I know," Aragorn whispered. He looked at his father, his expression the saddest that Elrond had ever seen. "I know it may not work, but I will not lose hope! I cannot!"

Elrond smiled slightly. "I named you well, Estel."

Aragorn gave a sad smile. "That is what Legolas said, a few days ago…"

Once more they sat in silence, fatigue nearly overwhelming them both, neither of them having gotten any sleep for the past few days.

"Take rest, ion nin?" Elrond said, but it was more like a question.

Aragorn shook his head. "Not until he wakes."

Elrond sighed. "Even if the medicine is successful, he may not wake for days."

Aragorn realized the truth in his statement. Legolas' body had a lot of healing to do, especially if his brain was affected. Sudden fear gripped his heart. "Father…if he suffered damage to his brain…"

Elrond said nothing, knowing his son's thoughts. Legolas' immortal body was capable of quickly healing non-fatal injuries, but damage caused to the brain was something else entirely.

Sighing again, Elrond allowed himself to get comfortable in the chair, now that there was nothing they could do but wait. Blinking slowly, his eyelids suddenly felt heavy, making him realize just how tired he really was; his eyes wanted to close in sleep, which wasn't normal for Elves. He felt sleep pulling at him but defied it, sitting up straighter. I cannot sleep; Legolas needs me.

A sudden snore slightly startled him and he looked over at Aragorn, who hadn't been able to deny his human body the need for rest.

The sight confirmed Elrond's need to remain awake; one of them had to keep watch over the unconscious Elf at all times.

Getting out of the chair, Elrond approached the bed, studying the bruising on Legolas' forehead due to the internal bleeding. It hadn't worsened, though hadn't gotten better; Elrond knew that it would take time…if the medicine worked.

Sighing louder than he intended, Elrond sat back down and dropped his face into his hands. He'd never been so unconfident of his healing ability in his several millennia of life. With all the people I've successfully helped, over thousands of years…to be unable to save an Elf that I consider a son…The thought was unbearable.

A sudden sound caught his attention, but Elrond's tired brain didn't identify it for what it was. It wasn't until it sounded again that Elrond snapped his head up.

Legolas was moaning.

Blinking, Elrond suddenly realized that he'd fallen asleep. Throwing himself out of the chair, he couldn't fight the wave of panic that overcame him. I fell asleep…I left Legolas unattended!

Fear made his hand shake as he laid it on the side of the younger Elf's face. Legolas' eyes were closed tightly and he was breathing heavily, seeming agitated.

"What happened?!" he heard, not having noticed Aragorn beside him.

"I do not know," said Elrond, checking Legolas' pulse.

The heartbeat was too fast, but Elrond was encouraged to see that there was still no external bleeding. The bruising on Legolas' forehead was unchanged.

Legolas seemed to calm at the sound of their voices, Aragorn saw, and he took his friend's hand. "Legolas, mellon nin, please wake." He didn't expect him to, and Legolas didn't, but he did quiet down and once more became still.

Still shaken over the fact that he'd slept through his 'watch', Elrond leaned his hands on the bed, hanging his head. I should not have allowed that to happen! Legolas might have died thanks to my inattention…

A hand touched his arm, and he turned his head to see Aragorn watching him.

"I have faith in you, Ada," Aragorn said. "Your cure will work. If not…" he paused. "If not…then it means that he was beyond anyone's help…"

Elrond sighed at his son's tone. Aragorn's voice was choked up; he'd barely been able to get the words out.

Straightening up, Elrond walked away from the bed, towards the window. He saw that it was approaching nightfall, and he could feel disturbing 'emotions' from the trees…

Frowning, Elrond focused on them, realizing that they were grieving. For whom do they mourn? Elrond's too-tired brain asked. It struck him a second later, and he turned, his stricken gaze falling on Legolas.