A/N: Thank you everyone, including guests, for your continued reviews! To catherine10: I usually don't put direct translations of elvish within the text, but I always make sure to include enough context clues so the meaning is clear. However, I could also list them at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 7: A Friendship Sealed

Aragorn did not look back as the fortress of Dol Guldur faded under a mantle of fog. The horrendous screams of the Nazgûl had longed since ceased, and he wondered what had become of the creatures; he was not naive enough to believe they'd been severely hurt. The Ringwraiths would rise again to do their master's bidding, as strong and terrifying as before. He felt a sense of premonition that he would be seeing them again.

For now though, Aragorn concentrated on his route of flight. Radagast was unnaturally light in his grip as the Ranger fought to hold him upright, a gaunt elbow occasionally jabbing his ribs when the wizard stumbled. Legolas was not faring much better, half-supported by Gandalf as they, too, trudged through the woods. Yet somehow they managed to press on, and made it back to Rhosgobel by dusk.

The deepening gloaming cast shadows across the forest floor and in between the trees, and yet there was something decidedly less sinister about twilight in this small patch of Mirkwood, untouched by the Shadow's poison. From the roof of Radagast's ramshackle cottage, an owl hooted, such a blessedly normal sound that it almost made Aragorn grin.

Gandalf reached the door first and pushed it open. He and Legolas ducked inside, followed by Aragorn and Radagast. Both of the staffs in Gandalf's hand lit up from the crowns, illuminating the small and incredibly cluttered interior. Aragorn bumped into a small table, rattling a handful of ceramic jars and glass bottles. Large roots and threads of ivy arched up and around paned windows to a pointed ceiling where various clusters of jugs, canvas bags, and wool meshwork hung. Aragorn had to duck under some of them on his way to depositing Radagast on a ratty cot in the back corner.

"Do we need to set a guard?" he asked.

Gandalf bent down in front of a miniature stone hearth, muttering under his breath. A second later, a fire popped into existence. "No, this place is well protected." He then moved to begin lighting candles scattered around various shelves and windowsills, suffusing the cottage with a warm, comforting glow.

Aragorn turned toward Legolas, who had sagged forward against one of the exposed roots, both palms pressed flat to it and eyes closed as he breathed deeply. The Ranger grabbed a rickety chair from one of the work tables and dragged it over. "Here," he said, placing it close to the shoot.

Legolas craned his neck to blink at him, and then bowed his head in appreciation before sinking into the chair, keeping one hand touching the tree.

Aragorn removed his pack and set it on the floor, kneeling down to dig out his medicinal supplies. "Were you injured?" He had studiously searched Legolas for signs of blood during the trek back, and though he hadn't seen any, he'd feel better knowing for certain. The elf was still far too pale for his liking.

Legolas canted a mild look at the herb bags. "You're a healer as well?"

"Have you not heard my foster father's reputation?" he asked wryly, and was pleased when he received a soft smile in return.

"See to the others first then; I don't have any physical wounds."

Aragorn frowned at the odd phrasing, but nevertheless turned back toward Radagast, who was sitting on the cot and wringing his hands together through his beard. His wrists were raw and bruised from the chains, and he was in dire need of a nutritious meal.

"Gandalf, can you heat some water?" Aragorn asked, only to find the wizard was already in the process of setting a kettle over the fire. The Ranger moved his supplies over to a small table next to the bed and laid them out. Gandalf drew a second bucket of water from a tiny well in the floor and brought it over, and watched as Aragorn gently cleansed the abrasions and bandaged them. Radagast winced frequently, his eyes constantly darting around.

When he'd finished the first wrist, Gandalf stepped away and went to Legolas. Their voices were pitched too low for Aragorn to hear the words, but a few minutes later, Gandalf was back at his side with a green-leafed package.

"You'll have to eat small at first, until you've regained your constitution," he said, breaking off a piece of waybread and handing it to Radagast. The Brown Wizard took it eagerly and began to nibble on it.

"It's so quiet here, Gandalf. I hope they don't think I abandoned them." The frazzled wizard looked absolutely miserable as he chewed. "Poor Sebastian, I think he would have liked to share the lembas."

"They'll be back, my friend," Gandalf reassured him.

Aragorn arched a surreptitious eyebrow at the Grey Wizard in question, yet when Gandalf leaned closer, it wasn't to give an explanation.

"You'll need athelas, Aragorn," he said quietly, and cast a meaningful look Legolas's direction. The elf had closed his eyes again, one hand still resting on the tree root.

Aragorn furrowed his brow. Athelas had its uses, particularly for serious wounds, but Legolas was not injured in that way… His eyes widened in realization. Of course, the Black Breath.

He urgently sifted through his satchels in search of the herb. "Do you two…?" he asked, glancing between the two wizards.

Gandalf shook his head. "Its effect does not linger on the Istari as it does on elves or mortals." He went to the hearth and poured the now steaming water into a small cup.

Aragorn found the plant and crushed the leaves between his fingers, releasing a sweet, minty aroma that immediately invigorated him and dispelled the pall that had been hanging over him without his notice, for he had been too focused on helping his companions. He sprinkled the leaf flecks into the tea and then carried it over, taking a seat on a work bench carved into the hollow.

"Legolas," he called, holding the cup near the waxen elf's face so the calming fragrance could waft over him.

The prince's eyelids slid upward sluggishly, revealing two irises of dulled blue, yet even one inhale of the athelas's scent imbued a glimmer of vibrancy back into them.

"Drink this."

Legolas lifted his other hand to accept the cup, though Aragorn kept his hold on it, just in case. He coaxed Legolas into drinking all of it, and then leaned back pensively. He would have to trust in the plant's potency and his own abilities as a healer. "The hands of the king," he'd been told more often than he wanted to hear.

"Le hannon, mellon nîn," Legolas murmured in thanks.

Aragorn let out a sigh that released much of the tension he'd been carrying, and his mouth tugged upward at the prince's requited use of 'friend'. "Rest now."

Legolas grew still as he fell into sleep, but at least his eyes were only half-lidded rather than fully closed. Aragorn rose to his feet, stretching until his lower back popped. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he caught Gandalf with a satisfied smile on his face, but when he turned, the wizard merely lifted his brows in an innocent mien the Ranger didn't buy for a second.

Aragorn shook his head, and went to join his nosy friend at the table.

Legolas stood in front of one of the windows, basking in the warmth of a shaft of sunlight streaming through. He couldn't believe he had almost forgotten what it felt like, but thankfully the shroud of darkness had been banished from his spirit. Legolas glanced over his shoulder at the Ranger sleeping on the floor in front of the hearth, which had burned low during the night. Twice now, this man had saved him, a debt which Legolas could never repay; though, somehow he knew Aragorn, son of Arathorn, would never demand anything in return. What the man had offered, however, was something Legolas had never had to consider before. Friendship with a mortal was not an easy thing to bear for those who walked the paths into eternity. And yet, he could not deny that it felt right.

A soft snore hitched the man's breathing, signaling his imminent wakefulness. Legolas turned back to gazing out the window, lips twitching at the rather unusual sight gathering outside. A few moments later, a presence sidled up beside him, and Aragorn made a soft noise of disbelief in his throat.

"How long have they been out there?" he asked quietly, for the two wizards were still slumbering.

"Since dawn," Legolas replied. "If you think it permissible, we should wake Radagast. I think this would do him good."

"I agree," Aragorn said, hesitating long enough to shake his head at the motley gathering of three foxes, two raccoons, half a dozen squirrels and chipmunks, a waddling porcupine, and even a skunk. There were also several birds hopping around on the ground and pecking at the dirt, as though they were part of the crowd as well.

"Aragorn."

The man paused mid-turn, and Legolas reached out to clasp his shoulder firmly. "I did not have the chance to say it before, but your true name is safe with me. It is an honor to be entrusted with that knowledge—and your friendship."

For a moment, Aragorn only blinked in surprise. Then he lifted his other arm and returned the elvish embrace with equal measure of heart and sincerity. "Gail sílle erin lû e-govaned 'wîn."

Legolas grinned. A star certainly had shone on the hour of their meeting, and, he felt, would continue to.

They woke the two wizards, directing them to look outside. One glance, and Radagast's nervousness vanished in a flurry of excitement as he shuffled out the door. Legolas had never seen a more peculiar sight than that of woodland creatures practically bouncing for the wizard's attention. Aragorn looked just as perplexed, while Gandalf grinned in amusement.

Something warbled intrusively then, and a tiny hedgehog pushed his way through the throng.

"Sebastian!" Radagast scooped up the little fellow and nuzzled its nose.

Legolas could not help but grin; there were too few moments of such joyous innocence left in the world.

"It's so good to see you all again," Radagast prattled. "You'll have to tell me what you've been up to."

Aragorn's brows shot up as the Brown Wizard gestured excitedly, and all the forest animals went bounding into his cottage. "Does he actually hear them speak?" the Ranger asked dubiously.

Gandalf shrugged. "Who knows." He then turned a knowing gaze toward Legolas. "I'm glad to see you well again, young prince. I assume you'll want to be returning home as soon as possible."

Legolas nodded. "It's best not to keep my father worrying too long."

Gandalf chuckled. "Indeed. I appreciate everything you and Aragorn did—even if you did disobey my orders," he harrumphed.

Aragorn did not bother to hide a cheeky grin. "What do you expect, Gandalf? I'd say your tendency to meddle has worn off on us."

Legolas laughed, a melodic chord that filled the glade with ripples of mirth.

Gandalf's beard twitched with a mixture of indignation and poorly concealed gaiety, and then he sobered again. "I think I will stay a little while longer," he said, craning a glance over his shoulder. "Just until I'm sure Radagast has fully recovered from his ordeal."

Legolas nodded in understanding.

"Will you be alright traveling back to the palace?" Gandalf asked.

The elf resisted an eye roll. "The forest may be darker, but it is still my home and I know it well."

"Speaking of which," Aragorn interjected. "I've always wanted to see Mirkwood, and what better guide than a wood-elf?"

Legolas's eyes narrowed a fraction, glancing between the Ranger and wizard and wondering if they'd arranged that. Gandalf certainly seemed pleased, but Aragorn's expression was tentatively hopeful.

Legolas smiled and nodded. "It would be my pleasure to show you."

"All the way to the palace?" Gandalf asked curiously.

"If it is permitted," Aragorn replied, casting a questioning look toward Legolas.

"Of course it is," the wizard answered first. "You'd best start off then, for it's a several day journey. Oh, do say hello to Thranduil for me," he added cheerfully as he ducked back into the cottage, which had gotten a mighty lot more crowded.

Legolas snorted, and muttered under his breath, "Coward."

Aragorn frowned. "Is there something I should know about?"

"My father can live up to his reputation," Legolas admitted reluctantly. "Are you sure you want to brave that so soon after our recent harrowing experience?" He did not want to admit that the thought of the Ranger backing out would bring him disappointment.

Aragorn tilted his head as though pondering, but then a smile tugged at his mouth. "I think it's worth it."

A/N: That's it! Thanks for reading and expressing your support whether it be through following, favoriting, and/or reviewing. Hope to see you again when I post the first chapter of my next LoTR fic, either next Tuesday or the one after. And here's a teaser for it:

Twilight Paths - "Legolas becomes the catalyst in a plot to destroy Mirkwood when a mysterious illness begins to strike down elves. While friends and wizards desperately search for answers, Legolas finds himself on an equally harrowing journey to survive a strange and terrifying dreamscape beyond any world he's ever known."

Catherine10, here's the exact translation to the elvish phrase in this chapter: "Gail sílle erin lû e-govaned 'wîn." = "A star shone on the hour of our meeting."