Hello everyone, sorry to those of you who doubted this story would ever get updated. I had some mental health issues over the past few months and have only recently felt up to writing again. Thank you so much for all the kind PMs and reviews they mean so much! I hope this chapter is as well received as the rest, happy reading!

Aragorn hesitated before the heavy wooden door, wanting nothing more than to throw down the bowl of hot water he was bearing and run until his legs buckled beneath him. Two inches of oak were the only thing seperating him from the living nightmare he had been enduring for the past 72 hours.

His bloodstained hands served as a constant reminder of the events of the past three days. He had abandoned any attempt to scrub them clean, as each time he changed Eredhel's bandages it painted them a deeper shade of crimson. Every time Aragorn looked down at them he was filled with guilt, knowing that she had sacrificed herself to save him. He grimaced and pushed open the door, wincing as the creaking hinges broke the grim silence within.

The chamber held a bed, two chairs and a side table, the latter serving as a resting place for bandages, herbs, and the freshly picked prim roses Legolas had brought the day before. Aragorn deposited his bowl beside the vase and cast a doleful gaze down at Eredhel before his eyes moved to the ellon sat in the corner closest to her.

Legolas was leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees and chin resting on his folded hands. In all his years, Aragorn had never seen him look so haggard, so human. His usually bright eyes had dimmed to a stormy blue and all color had long since drained from his cheeks. He looked up briefly at Aragorn but then returned his gaze to the elleth, his eyes fixed on her pale face.

The city had been celebrating when their small group had arrived two days past, but the crowds had immediately quieted when they saw their King and the elves galloping towards the front gate carrying a body. Healers had attempted to take Eredhel from Legolas' arms but one look from the ellon and they had retreated. Aragorn had ordered herbs and supplies be brought to a vacant room in the citadel, as he knew Legolas would entrust Eredhel's healing to no one but himself. He had refused to leave her side, even when Aragorn had began assessing some of her more serious wounds, his eyes becoming more pained with every new gash or bruise that was revealed.

Now the ellon's eyes were vacant, his mind elsewhere. He had been haunted by reminders of the elleth since their ride back, even the most fondest of memories bringing a pang to his heart. It was half the reason he refused all sleep, knowing that slumber would most likely bring on visions of Eredhel. His greatest fear was that he would lose himself in a dream of the two of them together, only for him to awake and be told that he would never hear her voice again. Legolas grimaced and rubbed his knuckles against his forehead, thinking of the first time they had met, and the way her lips had curled around every syllable of his name. He smirked to himself, remembering how she had bested him.

It had been close to a thousand years since they had met in Mirkwood. Legolas had been leading a patrol in the southern part of the forest. Their initial mission had been to clear out a small nest of spiders but upon arriving they had found it nearly empty, with most of its inhabitants already lying dead on the ground. The elves had killed the remaining spiders but then started to investigate, wondering whether they had arrived at the wrong nest or if something far worse had killed off the creatures. Legolas was retrieving the few arrows he had used when he heard a rustling in the trees above him and signalled to his wardens. Immediately they had redrawn their weapons, their clear eyes cast upwards, suspecting more spiders to have returned. A movement to their left had made Vendlin release a shot into the brush but his arrow had struck only leaves and dirt.

Legolas had then caught a flash of movement to his right and moved away from their group towards it, realizing his mistake a second too late when he glimpsed something dropping from above him. He had braced himself for the sting of a pincer but instead felt an arrow being pressed into his back. His soft grunt had caused his wardens to turn, many of them knocking arrows when they found their Prince threatened by a cloaked figure. He had indicated for them not to shoot, and sucked in a breath before spinning around and drawing a knife from his hip in one movement. Once again he had been surprised when he felt cold metal against his throat. He and his enemy were in identical positions, holding their opponent off with one hand and pressing a blade to their neck with the other. A chuckle had slipped from beneath the navy hood and then a female voice. "Mae l'ovannen, Legolas haryon (Well met, Prince Legolas)."

His grip on his knife had faltered slightly at her use of Sindarin, but then tightened once more. "Man le? (Who are you?)" he had demanded. She had released her grip on him and backed away, reaching up to pull back her hood from her face. Immediately Legolas had withdrawn his weapon, and struggled to hide his surprise. It had been clear she was one of the Sindar, but her slightly tan skin betrayed her as an outsider of Mirkwood. Her starlit eyes had bored into his, her eyebrows raised at the Wood Elves' weapons trained on her.

"Im Eredhel Elrondiel, (I am Eredhel, daughter of Lord Elrond), I come with news for King Thranduil."

"You would have reached our halls much faster had you not strayed from the forest path. The Greenwood has become perilous," he had said, still annoued that she had gotten the best of him. Eredhel had smirked, as if guessing his thoughts.

"Yes, I have heard such tidings. It seems my detour was unneeded however, I apologize for depriving you of a hunt." It had taken a moment for her words to sink in as he realized she had cleared the nest on her own. He immediately masked the emotion but still felt uncharacteristically awkward under her penetrating stare.

He had studied her all the way back to the fortress, finding that his curiosity grew with every step. Once she had delivered her message about the Istari's arrival in Middle Earth to his father, Legolas had immediately offered (out of politeness only of course) to give her a tour of his home. They had passed hours together and her laugh became the only sound he longed to hear. She had attended the Midsummer Festival and it had been whilst they were dancing amidst the fireflies and moonlight that he'd realized how much she'd drawn him in, how far he'd fallen for her.

Legolas nearly smiled at the memory but then shook himself, harshly bringing himself back to reality. Gone was the smiling, carefree elleth, now only a shadow of the pale, weakened warrior that lay before him.

He noticed Aragorn staring at him and met the Ranger's pity filled eyes. Legolas resented the emotion and looked away, knowing what was coming. "Legolas..."

"No."

"You have neither rested or eaten."

"It matters not," was the ellon's flat reply. Aragorn sighed, their exchange having become familiar. Although the ellon was strong, Aragorn feared for the toll his grief was taking on him. Even Gimli had been unable to get through to him, much to their friend's worry. If Eredhel's condition did not soon improve, it would not only be the elleth that they would have to worry about.

Eredhel blinked in the sun, shielding her eyes from the golden light streaming through the clouds. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she realized she was lying on the shore of a beach resembling those of the Grey Havens. Looking around however, she failed to see any of the beautifully crafted ships or ancient buildings of Ciridan's people. The shore stretched on for miles in both directions and was backed by a thick forest, the only sounds were the crashing of the waves and cries of seagulls overhead. She shook her head, struggling to remember what had happened before she blacked out. Heat, the reak of blood and sweat, and the battlecries of orcs came back to her. Then all at once she remembered. The battle before the Black Gate, the troll, Aragorn. Immediately her heart beat quickened and she was on her feet, but just as her panic began to set in a gentle voice called out to her. "All is well mellon-nin."

Eredhel froze, and turned slowly to him. Ivoron was smiling at her, his grey eyes shining with admiration. He wore simple brown leggings and a light tunic, and his hair hung free of the braids he had usually worn. Immediately tears brimmed in Eredhel's eyes and she ran to embrace him, the ellon returning her enthusiasm as he wrapped her in his arms. Confusion clouded her racing thoughts until the realization hit her, and she took a staggered step back from him. "I died," she said flatly, trying to fight of the panic that was threatening to return. "Aragorn, he, he was being attacked, I-I," Ivoron placed his hands on her shoulders, fixing her in his calm eyes.

"He is fine Eredhel, as usual you spend more time worrying about others than yourself. Yes, you fell protecting him, and your wounds were grave, but you have not yet passed on. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for." He smiled at her and began walking down the beach. Eredhel followed him, her mind reeling. "You are between life and death, but you are weakening." At his words Eredhel became aware of a dull throb in her torso, but pushed it away, her mind too distracted by the ellon in front of her.

"Not strong enough, goheno-nin (forgive me), I should not have left you, it was my fault." Ivoron's brow furrowed, and he took her face in his hands.

"It was my choice to go, I knew what could happen. I have told you before there is nothing to forgive, if you had been by my side you may have fallen with me. You know why I followed you to that battle, I did not want you to be alone, and I am sorry for leaving you, and for the pain my death caused. But I can only ask that you allow me to make it up to you." Eredhel looked at him, for years she had wanted nothing more than to be once again held in his arms, to see his face light up with laughter. If she passed on, she would never again have to endure bloodshed or battle, would never again have to suffer or fear losing those she loved most. The pain suddenly got worse and her breath hitched as it spread towards her shoulders and abdomen. Ivoron looked at her with pity and took her hand, gently pulling her towards the water. Eredhel realized her feet were bare and when the water washed over them the pain lessened.

She took a step further and watched the water swirl around her ankles, noticing that the tide seemed to be pulling at her. She sighed contentedly and looked back towards the shore, admiring the forest swaying in the sea breeze. A flock of birds took flight from the tree tops and she smiled, the sight reminding her of the days when Mirkwood was known as Greenwood. Mirkwood. The haze of confusion suddenly lifted as memories raced through her mind. She and Aragorn visiting the forest, laughing as they rode their horses through the twisted trees. Dancing with Legolas during the midsummer festivities, his hand on the small of her back making goosebumps rise on her skin. Legolas. His blue eyes and golden hair flashed across her mind, his ever reassuring presence, the feeling of his skin against hers and his warm lips tantalizingly working their way down her neck.

Eredhel suddenly became aware that the water had reached her knees and she panicked, stumbling backwards and falling forward. Ivoron reached out and caught her but she stepped away, her eyes clouding. "No, no I can't." Thunder suddenly clapped overhead, and the water started to roil. She looked around fearfully as tears formed in the corners of her eyes, afraid that she was too late, that she'd never see Middle Earth again. The next clap of thunder made her jump, and the pain once again hit her full force, making her gasp for air.

"Eredhel, please," Ivoron begged, his handsome face now pained. But again the memories flashed across her mind, making her shut her eyes in confusion. When she opened them again he was gone, and lightening was flashing across the sky. The water pulled at her and Eredhel struggled, her feet dragging in the sand. The tide was rising quickly and her body protested in agony as she made herself run for the forest. Branches and leaves whipped her face as she ran, hearing the water close behind her. She sprinted blindly through the trees as visions took control of her mind. Watching Gandalf meet with Thorin at the Prancing Pony, awakening in a cold sweat in Rivendell with Arwen's fearful face in front of her, offering words of comfort. Then training with her brothers, the twins bantering as they sparred. Legolas hugging her when they had survived the Battle of Five Armies. Eredhel stumbled and fell to the ground, crying out as the pain took over her body. The water overtook her but it burned her skin like fire, making her scream. She didn't know how long she lay on the ground for, her body weakening as it endured wave after wave of agony, until suddenly she felt something, or rather someone, close to her and she stilled, finally and mercifully falling into unconsciousness.

Aragorn ran out into the hall, calling for a servant to bring cold water. When he returned to the room Legolas was holding Eredhel's arms down as she writhed on the bed. Only moments ago the elleth had started murmuring in her sleep and then suddenly her entire body had gone rigid before she cried out in pain. Aragorn began removing her larger bandages, trying to determine what could be causing her such anguish. When he removed the wrappings from where the troll had grabbed her he swore, causing Legolas to look over in alarm. "What's happening?!" he asked, his voice laced with fear.

"The wound looks infected, or poisoned, or both," said Aragorn, as the servant rushed into the room. He nodded to her and immediately began soaking rags in the icy water and dabbing at the wound. The blood that came off the elleth was black and Aragorn met the ellon's eyes. "She's weak, she didn't heal as fast as she should have, it's in her blood," he said gravely.

"Can't you cure her?" demanded Legolas, his eyes not straying from the grisly wound as he pinned one of the elleth's legs down with his own.

"I have to reclean the wound, and get her to drink a drought of athelas, neither of which I can do if she keeps this up," said Aragorn, his hands moving shakily as he continued to wipe away blood.

"Then we have to wake her," growled Legolas, as he struggled to keep Eredhel pinned down.

"I can't," said Aragorn defeatedly, and Legolas' eyes snapped to his. "It's a specific type of Morgul poison Legolas, it keeps the victim in a state of nightmarish sleep, they suffer until their body can take no more and then, they die." Legolas' grip on Eredhel's arms loosened, his face going pale. "The only way I may be able to help her is if we can get her to lie still, if she keeps writhing all her wounds will reopen. But even then, the emotional damage could kill her in her weakened state."

"She cannot die." Aragorn looked at the ellon and felt his heart once again break for his friend. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, trying to remain calm for the sake of both of them.

"Hold her down, we will deal with the wounds first." Legolas immediately obliged, laying on strong forearm across her chest and the other across her hips while Aragorn crumbled athelas into a bowl of water. He began scrubbing at the wound, trying to ignore the elleth's moan of pain and the momentary flash of anger that entered Legolas' eyes. They calmed however and Aragorn felt a small amount of relief, knowing that his friend was trusting him. The room went almost silent as the Ranger worked feverishly, knowing that even a few wasted moments could be the difference between life and death. At one point Elladan and Elrohir came rushing to the door, but one look from Aragorn and Elladan dragged his protesting twin outside, struggling to keep Elrohir calm as he fought to see his sister.

An hour passed and Aragorn sighed, wiping his brow and pushing himself to his feet. The skin around Eredhel's injuries was rubbed raw, but no hint of the poison remained in her flesh. "Now we have to find a way to get her to be still, or nothing I've done will matter," said Aragorn tiredly. The elleth was still contorting beneath Legolas and he loosened his grip on her, afraid he would cause her more harm. Aragorn went to the table and mixed together several herbs, swilling them around in a cup for several moments before turning to Legolas. "You have to reach her. It is impossible for us to fully wake her, but if you can touch her consciousness she may be able to take control and lie still long enough to drink this. I've done everything that can be done, mellon-nin." Aragorn laid down the cup and took Legolas' place by Eredhel's legs, pinning them down with his arms. Legolas moved towards Eredhel's head, trying to steady his trembling hands. He reached out with his mind, his heart sinking when he could not feel her connection. He pushed farther, stretching to the edge of his consciousness until finally he brushed against it, and recoiled.

Pain, had consumed her being. Her body was on fire, and her mind was weak. Legolas instinctively pushed himself away, taking refuge in the safety of his own thoughts. Pity and heartbreak consumed him as he gathered himself and once again reached out for her, bracing himself for the contact. He pushed back at the darkness swarming against him and tried to break through the elleth's suffering. Legolas gently took her face in his hands, brushing the hair back from her face. The raging inferno momentarily lessened and he took the chance to reach out for her, trying to block the pain from her body. "Eredhel, im sí ( I am here)."

"Legolas?" He felt her confusion and even through their mental connection her voice shook. Suddenly she jerked underneath him and Aragorn grunted, distracting Legolas. The elleth groaned as the pain returned full force. Legolas immediately reached once again for her thoughts, trying to ignore the feeling of invisible fire on his skin.

"You have to fight it, we are trying to help you." His lips traced her ear and she stilled beneath him. Immediately Aragorn reached for the goblet on the table. Legolas felt her growing weak and took the cup from the Ranger and poured its contents down her throat. The feeling of heat intensified and she shielded him from her mind before he felt her slip away and felt only emptiness.