Chapter 1



"Twenty four!"

"Twenty four?"


Legolas Greenleaf, the prince of Mirkwood forest, grinned, his blue eyes sparkling as he watched two of his companions, Gimli, son of Gloin and Aragorn, son of Arathorn battle their way through the army of orcs who had just invaded the fortress Helm's Deep. Despite the wretched weather conditions, the horrible smells of blood and the cries of the wounded and dying men, the three managed to find ways to amuse themselves.

The Elf watched as Gimli sunk his axe into the gut of one of their enemy and continued shooting his arrows. It had been a VERY long couple of weeks for the three of them. Following the disappearance of Frodo and Sam and the captures of Merry and Pippin, the trio had quite a bit on their plate to worry about. 'The least they need to worry about,' Legolas thought silently to himself as he notched yet another arrow, 'Is how I have been feeling lately.' He successfully shot down his eighteenth orc in ten minutes when he thought back to earlier that morning when he'd woken up with a pounding pain in his head. The ache was still there, and he felt a slight burning sensation at the back of his throat. This was odd, for Elves were never ill, but Legolas learned quite a bit about illness from the ranger and the hobbits.

"Eighteen!" Gimli shouted over the din, hurrying over to his Elven companion. "Not bad for a first timer, eh?"

Legolas smirked. "Aragorn-there are many more approaching." He pointed over the stone wall, and the ranger nodded.

"Keep firing as many arrows as you can."

Legolas sighed as another army of orcs burst into the fortress and the fighting continued. He could suddenly hide it no more, and sunk to the ground, dissolving into a fit of harsh coughing. Aragorn stopped what he was doing when he noticed Legolas, and immediately went to the Elf's side. "Are you all right?" He asked with concern in his dark eyes. "I feel strange, Aragorn." Legolas whispered, once the coughing fit ended. "My head aches, as does my throat."

"You are ill?" The ranger raised an eyebrow. He placed a hand against Legolas's forehead. "And burning with fever. We must get you to a safe hiding place. Gimli!" Aragorn darted over to the dwarf, who was twirling and slicing the stomachs of more and more orcs. "Legolas is ill-we must get him downstairs."

Gimli stopped fighting. "Ill you say? Impossible! Elves never fall ill."

"It is odd, I know, but he has a fever. Aid me in getting him to the caverns below."

The dwarf dodged an attempted assasination from behind as he hurried after Aragorn over to Legolas, who had his head cradled in his arms, looking very similar to a child. "Lean on me. There you are." Aragorn helped Legolas to his feet, and with the help of the dwarf, they got him downstairs, where they were greeted by Eowyn.

"Oh dear-what is the matter with him?" She asked with concern.

Legolas let out a small sigh before collapsing to the ground, and both Aragorn and Gimli leapt back with surprise. Eowyn knelt down and felt the Elf's forehead, frowning. "This is very strange. Elves do not get sick, am I correct? Or am I dreaming perhaps? Pinch me, Aragorn." She held out her arm. The ranger raised an eyebrow.

"I'd rather not, Eowyn. You are not dreaming. He is very ill and needs a healer."

Gimli watched as the ranger lifted his friend from the stone and brought him over to a mat that Eowyn had set up for herself to sit on while the battle raged above. The rest of the women who were hiding with her, watched with interest once Legolas was laying down. "Is he hurt?" asked Eowyn, kneeling down beside the Ranger who was removing the Elf's cloak.

"He does not seem to be. He was fine ten minutes ago. He just collapsed."

It was at that moment that Legolas moaned and his blue eyes fluttered open. "Where 'm I?" He asked in a hoarse voice. He still felt very strange. Eowyn dashed over towards her bag and pulled out a canteen filled with water, and went to hand it to Aragorn.

"Have him drink some of this. It will help." She said, bending down so she could peer into the Elf's eyes. "How are you feeling?" She asked with concern. "How long have you been feeling this way?" She corrected herself.

"Since-since the battle with orcs following Boromir's fall." He whispered, not struggling when Aragorn placed the tip of the canteen to his dry lips.

"I see. Were you hurt at all? Did you get shot? Perhaps, Aragorn, one of the orcs shot him with a poisoned dart that took a while to go into effect."

"Why did you not tell us you were ill?" Aragorn demanded. "At the first sign of discomfort, Legolas, you should have informed me."

"I am sorry." Legolas whispered. "I was foolish, but I am not familiar with signs of illness."

Gimli bowed his head, feeling downright awful. He and Legolas had become fairly close over the past couple of weeks, and he could not bare to see his good friend suffer so. Eowyn nodded, pouring some of the canteen water into a handkerchief. She gently blotted Legolas's burning cheeks and forehead, when Theoden hurried towards them.

"You are needed! Haldir has been killed-the orcs are multiplying!" He then noticed Legolas as well, but did not have the time or the patience to ask what had happened. He turned and fled back up to the fortress. Eowyn, as she ran a tender hand down Legolas's arm, came upon a slight ridge sticking up from his shirt. Aragorn looked at Gimli. "Stay here. I'll return soon." He dashed after the king, leaving Eowyn and Gimli to look after the Prince.

"Hold on." She said quietly, and rolled up the sleeve to the shirt. Imbeded in the Elf's flesh was the tip of an arrow. Clearly it had been there for weeks, for the blood around it had dried. He obviously had been so involved in the battle where he had received the wound, that he hadn't thought about it afterwards. "So you have been feeling ill for at least two weeks then?" Eowyn asked. "You have an arrow tip in you."

"He does? Let me see that." Gimli peered over Eowyn's shoulder. "Legolas-you are hurt. The damned thing must have been filled with poison!"

Legolas let out another moan when Eowyn attempted to extract the tip of the arrow from him, and she immediately ceased her job. "Legolas-I must remove this. At least if the arrow tip is gone..."

"Forgive me, Lady Eowyn, but even if the arrow tip is gone from Legolas, surely the poison from the arrow has already circulated through him?" Gimli asked as Legolas let out another moan.

"Is he all right?" A little girl hurried over to Eowyn. She had been sitting but a few feet away, munching on a piece of black bread and listening to the random chatter of the other women and children who were hiding in the same caverns.

"He is very ill." Eowyn explained. "I would stay away, little one, until we are certain he is not contagious. Do not announce his illness to anyone. I do not want to be responsible for a panic." Eowyn told the girl with a gentle smile. "what is your name?"

"Elorian." The girl replied, smiling back. "He's a handsome fellow, I must say, though." She giggled before hurrying back over to her mother."

Eowyn turned back to Legolas, running a hand over the Elf's forehead. "You're going to be just fine, love." She told him. "Hold on for us-I know that Aragorn and Gimli could not bare to loose you."

"Stubborn pointed ear ass." Gimli grumbled.

"Shhhh!" Eowyn warned as she peered up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the remaining battle. 'Is this all you can give us, Saruman?' she thought bitterly.

A/N: This is NOT going to be a Mary-Sue, I promise you. :oP It is not going to be a slash-fic, either, even though there will be plenty of TLC from Aragorn.