A/N: 100+ reviews. *gapes* Who woulda thought? *teary eyes* Gah, I love you all! *big group hug*

REASON FOR LACK OF UPDATES: lack of writing flow, and I don't want to put anything out there that isn't up to my lowest standards. *cocks a fist* Damn writer's block to hell! (pardon the language -_-)

Own nothing, will gain nothing from this but tears (thanks again all who have left such wonderful reviews!), and there you have it.

~Far Deeper Than Skin~


What was there? Was there feeling, anything to be felt? With what seemed a great effort, I slowly opened my eyes. The light above me swirled, my head throbbed. Raising a hand slowly to block the burning rays, I whispered hoarsely, "Turn off the light, Madam Pomphrey."

"There's no light, my friend," a gruff voice responded, and a rough hand took mine in a firm grip. "It is good, though, to see you awake."

I closed my eyes again, inhaled deeply. "Where's Madam Pomphrey?"

" No Pomphrey woman here, mate," the gruff voice answered.

"This isn't funny, Weasley." It had to be a Weasley, there was no other explanation. Trying to laugh, but ending up with a cough, I tried to say, "Shouldn't you be on the field?"

The rough hand let mine go. "Field?" A short, uncomfortable pause made me open my eyes. "I think you were hit harder than we thought, Legolas."


I blinked, tried to sit up when a strong hand pushed me down.

"You are in no condition to be sitting," the gruff voice continued.

The white above me danced just before my eyes, swirling. I shut my eyes tight. " Cut the spell, Weasley, it's not funny anymore."

"Weasley?" The voice was heavy with pain, the hand rested itself on my forehead. "I'm no weasle, Legolas. You don't recognize me?"

I reached up and removed the hand from my head. "You never know when to quit." I exhaled. "Look, I've got a killer headache. Tell Angel to take over practice." Swallowing, another thought hit me. "And find our reserve Keeper while you're at it. I don't think I'll be able to play next week."

"I'm getting Elrond," the voice said hurridly.

Within moments I felt alone.

I groaned, tried to fall back asleep. Sleep, sleep is what I needed. By the time Fred or George, whichever, returned, if I could be alseep, he'd leave. The lack of Weasleys was my main goal, for who knew what a Weasley could do for a headache?

Sleep refused to take me in its iron grip this time, though. Shifting and groaning, there was not a position that made me rest. I twisted under the silk blankets, rolled on the matress, put myself in positions that seemed physically impossible, all the while trying to keep my long hair out of my face.

I froze. Heart stopped still.

Long hair? I took a strand of hair between two fingertips, stifled a cry of surprise when I found the strand to be blonde. And about shoulder length.

I rolled onto my back, inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly. It was only a spell, only a spell of Weasley's. Both of them had pranks that did something like this......sometimes.

Groaning in frustration, I placed my hands over my ears.....my ears?

I shot up in bed, threw the silk bedspread from my lanky body.

I was sleeping in silk sheets?

The hospital wing had the worst blankets in the world. Thick and itchy.....but these....these were of the finest silk. Too silky to be possible.

"He didn't recognize me, m'lord," came the gruff voice, from just outside the door.

Panic seized me, adreniline coursed through my veins. I had to hide, had to get away from the freaky voice and whoever it had brought to the chambers. Yet by the time I had the perfect hiding place picked out, I felt the presence of men in the room.

"Legolas? You can't be standing! Back in bed, my boy, back in bed!" Slim hands took hold of my shoulders, led me back to the soft matress. "I know you must be anxious to know what happened, but please, wait until you've healed."

I groaned again, as it seemed the only thing to explain how I felt. This voice was the same voice I had heard during that.....halucination. I knew for sure I was dreaming.

"Listen! He's making funny noises now!" the gruff voice cried worridly.

"You do not know the sounds of a confused Elf when you hear them, do you, Gimli?" the melodic voice asked. With a sigh, he said softly to me," You can open your eyes, Legolas. You're awake, it might as well be done."

It was then I realized I had my eyes closed.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking away the swirling room, trying to dive through the waves of confusion to reality. "Didn't I tell you to stop the joke, Weasley? It's not funny anymore."

"See, sire? He's called you a weasle, too."

A concerned face came into focus. Strong cheekbones, pale skin surrounded by a neat tangle of dark brown hair. Penetrating eyes bore into me, a cool hand swept my forehead.

"I don't think he means the weasle you're thinking of, Dwarf," the man muttered, sitting on the edge of my bed gently.

I raised a hand in annoyance. "Did you just call your brother a dwarf?" I asked slowly.

This would have brought chuckles from both twins. The dark-haired man only tightened his expression.

"My brother?" he asked, glancing away from me.

"Your brother?" the gruff voice answered with the same confusion. "Who am I to be the brother of Lord Elrond?"

Lord Elrond.....yes, that was the name of the guy in the dream....

"I know you," I murmered. "I was at practice, and then I was in the woods, and you were taking me away on an unstable wooden stretcher. Then Weasley carried me up the steps, and you said not to ask me questions until I was better." I was raving like a drunk, but it all made so much sense! "I said stop the joke, or is there no respect for your Quidditch captain anymore?" I rubbed my throbbing temples. "Was it you two that gave me this headache as well? So you wouldn't have to play next week?" Chuckling slightly at the cleverness of the thought, I told them," You should have waited until closer to the game. I may get better just to spite the both of you."

The dark-haired man rose from my bed quickly. "This isn't our Elf prince, Gimli."