Faramir slid slowly out of bed, muffling a groan as his abused body sent up a very vivid protest. He did not wish to wake Éowyn, who had been curled into his side deeply asleep for the past two hours. Between assisting with medical care—although thankfully his own injuries had proved little more than strained muscles, deep bruises, and a single cracked rib—and keeping up the more prosaic tasks required of a home's mistress with visitors of the King and Queen's stature in residence, his wife was much fatigued and deserved her rest. Perhaps he should be grateful for his bruises, then. If not for those, Éowyn would likely have pillowed on his shoulder and he would have had very little chance of leaving her undisturbed.

The flooring was cool and smooth against his bare feet. He unhooked his robe from the bedpost and pulled it on as he crossed the room, biting back another pained curse. No, his arm was apparently not ready for that particular movement yet. He tied the robe closed and then slipped into the hall. The well-oiled hinges made no sound as he pulled the door gently closed behind him, taking care that it did not click as he released the handle. That done, he turned to the Queen, who hovered near with a single flickering candle in deference to the hour.

"My Lady?"

"I regret waking you." Arwen smiled apologetically, and Faramir shook his head.

"You did not. With all the sleep I have had in the past two days, I confess I feel the need for no more. I have been lying awake since my wife found her slumber."

She nodded. "Then you will not mind a brief interruption." Arwen motioned down the hall, toward the guest rooms. "Legolas has awakened."

Awake. Though he had put on a patient front, Faramir had been more anxious for his travelling companion to wake than he liked to admit. Seeing Legolas so still and silent after his ordeal was not an entirely comfortable experience, despite knowing that the sleep was a healing one. Ignoring his protesting muscles, Faramir started immediately for the room in which the Elf had been sleeping for the past days. "How is he?"

"Alert and responsive." Faramir nodded, breathing deeply through his relief. Aragorn had assured them that Legolas's mind was unharmed and all would be well. Hearing and seeing, however, were two entirely different things. "Aragorn wishes him to sleep for at least another day—he believes that doing so will aid any internal healing that may still be taking place. Legolas desires to speak with you before he returns to sleep, however." Faramir jerked another nod and picked up his step. Arwen's grey eyes darted toward him. "We suspected that you would wish the same, and thought it wise to fetch you."

"Thank you, my Lady. I am glad that you did."

They reached Legolas's door, the dark bulk outlined by a flickering light from within. Before Arwen could move to open it, however, Faramir halted.

"My Lady." She turned her calm grey gaze on him and Faramir straightened formally, his hands automatically seeking to clasp behind his back. When his bruises protested, he dropped them instead to his sides. "We have had very little opportunity to speak over the past days. If I may, I would take this opportunity to offer my deepest thanks for your aid in this matter. We were …" Flashes of forest and hills and pasture, of desperate haste and sleepless nights and frantic struggle, filled his mind and seized his heart. So close. It had been so close… Faramir shook that thought away. It was over now, and they were both alive and whole. It would not serve to dredge up such desperation and terror here in the safety of his home. "Thank you."

Arwen smiled and reached for his hand. "My aid was most gladly given." She pressed his fingers, then released him. "But think not that your own part was any less needful. Without your care and guidance, Legolas would not have reached Emyn Arnen." Her fair countenance darkened. "The spirit was both vengeful and powerful. It is well that you pressed on as you did."

Faramir's thoughts drifted back despite himself. "If it had taken me rather than him …" He sighed. "I would not have held out for so long. I would have been lost long ere we reached home."

"Then all have many reasons for gratitude, do we not?"

He grimaced. "It does not feel right to be grateful that another was forced to bear this trial."

The Queen studied him gravely. "And yet, this gratitude comes not from cowardice or fear. It comes not from a shirking of friendship, but from simple acknowledgement of a truth. His heritage offers a strength that yours does not. All in the end has worked for the good, has it not?"

Faramir met the eyes of the Queen, and nodded slowly. "Verily, my Lady."

"Then gratitude is not amiss." A smile softened Arwen's features, and she motioned toward the sickroom. "Shall we enter?"

He stepped away from the door, allowing Arwen to lead the way. The room was half-lit, dim enough for sensitive eyes but bright enough that all within was easily discernible. Aragorn stood beyond the bed, mixing a packet of herbs into a teacup. Faramir nodded to his King, then turned his eyes to the bed. Purple hollows painted Legolas's features, dark even in the flickering light, but his eyes were open and aware. Faramir grinned, the relief of the past days bursting to full-blown elation.

Against all expectation, they had survived.

"How do you feel, my friend?" He crossed quickly to the bedside.

Legolas snorted softly. "I believe I feel as though a houseless spirit has been attempting to dismantle me from the inside out."

Faramir chuckled. "Indeed?"

"Indeed." The Elf swept Faramir with his gaze. "And you?"

He hesitated. "I believe I feel the same, though perhaps from the outside in."

Legolas choked on a laugh. Aragorn glanced up quickly, but the Elf waved him away. "Nay, I am well." He returned his attention to Faramir, and raised a hand. "Thank you, my friend. I regret that you were harmed in the doing … but I owe you my life, and perhaps my very fëa."

Faramir seized the proffered hand. "You saved me as well, at the first. And any bruises I suffered were well worth the end result." Silence fell for a moment, then he shook his head. "In truth, it would be quite time-consuming to locate another Elf willing to take charge of the colony. I have not the energy for the matter."

The blue eyes danced, merry and free from any shadow. "Ah, I see. It was an economical endeavor, then."

"What else?"

"What else, indeed?" Legolas's eyes drifted closed and his grip loosened, but his voice was still strong and light. "In that case, I have been meaning to discuss some manner of hazard remuneration for my efforts here. It seems that I was not fully apprised of the—"

"The two of you have obviously spent far too much time with the hobbits." Aragorn moved forward, holding the mug with the tea outstretched. Legolas blinked his eyes open and shared a swift, fatigued smile with Faramir.

"I am not certain such a thing is possible."

Aragorn smiled fondly. "Nor I, in truth." He waved the mug gently. "Sleep now. There will be time for both thanks and negotiation when you are fully recovered."

"I am not certain that is wise, my Lord." Faramir pursed his lips. "Perhaps we should pursue this now, while we still have the advantage. Once he is up and about …"

Legolas downed the tea in two large gulps and tossed the mug onto the nearby table, where it landed with a dull thud amid the laundered towels and the herb packets. "I fear that I am drugged, and unable to fully participate in such discussions at this time."

Faramir snorted a laugh, then lowered himself carefully to sit on the floor, back resting against the bed frame. "It seems I am overruled." He leaned his head into the mattress. "Perhaps I will stay, however, until you return to your sleep."

"I would be glad of the company." Legolas settled back into the pillow, and his voice was already thick with oncoming sleep. "I am … truly grateful to see you well, Faramir."

Faramir closed his own eyes, listening with half an ear to the silence—the soft rustle of the King's footsteps as he crossed the room, the fair music of the Queen's whisper, the hushed creaking of the bed as Legolas gently resettled. Yes. They had much for which to be grateful.

"And I you, my friend."

A/N: Thanks for reading! :-)