Okay, firstly, I'm not happy with this one. It doesn't come out as I wanted it to. It's really, really short, too, I know, but if I had waited any longer, I probably wouldn't have continued this at all. Perhaps I'll change some things later if I get better ideas. And have more time (preliminary medical examination is waiting, and I'm already in panic). And it took already really long to continue this, I didn't want to leave those wo still follow this story waiting any longer (if anyone is still reading this at all).

Secondly, PLEASE correct me if I make mistakes in grammar or in choice of words. I learned English in school, but that's not really helpful for trying to write a story (we rather learned how to interpret poems).

Thirdly, if anyone has good ideas how this could continue, feel free to tell me. I'd be glad about any suggestion.

And fourthly, thanks to those wo reviewed this story. Without you, I would have given up long ago.

He woke less than two hours later. At first, he was confused and couldn't make out what had happened. Then it all came back, and he quickly turned toward Legolas to check his condition. He was deeply frightened when he found the elf moving restlessly, giving soft moans and whimpers of obvious pain. His forehead was covered with sweat and hot to the touch.

"Legolas?" the ranger asked anxiously, but his friend wasn't responsive and didn't give any reaction at all.

Aragorn quickly unwrapped the bandages to check the arrow wound. It didn't seem to be infected. But why was the elf suddenly running such a high fever?

Then another thought stuck him. Poison. He cursed inwardly. It had been an orcish arrow, he should have considered this possibility much earlier! There were herbs in his pack to delay the effects of most of the poisons known on middle-earth, but they couldn't break the symptoms when they had shown already.

Aragorn looked around. Gimli wasn't there, so it was his turn to take watch. Boromir was lying close to the cave entrance, sleeping. The ranger hurried to wake him.

"I need more water. As much as possible."

The Gondorian just stared at him confused for a moment.

"Hurry!"

The sound of Aragorn's voice told Boromir that this was indeed important, and without a question he rose and vanished outside.

No sooner had he gone than Gimli entered the cave, looking extremely worried.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping beside the human who was busy crushing herbs from his stock of healing supplies.

"The arrow was poisoned. He's running a high fever. I have to get it down and neutralize the poison."

Gimli's sharp intake of breath gave his shock away. He always pretended to be grumpy, but he cared a lot about the rest of the fellowship and especially Legolas and Aragorn, who had become very good friends of his. He didn't know how to handle the situation with the usually proud and strong elf lying shivering and moaning on the ground.

Boromir only needed a few minutes to return with the water. They wet clothes and placed them on Legolas' forehead, chest, arms and legs to bring the fever down. Aragorn carefully lifted his upper body to give him the newly made potion to drink. Then he sat down beside his friend, watching him closely.

"Now we can only wait and hope," he told the others.

Gimli and Boromir exchanged worried glances. They didn't miss the hint of desperation in the ranger's voice.

"I'll take the watch," the Gondorian finally said and left the cave again.

The hobbits were still sleeping, too exhausted to wake despite all the excitement. Aragorn was grateful for that. The little ones needed all rest they could get, and the next day would be strenuous again. They needed to reach Lothlorien as soon as possible, for only there Legolas had a chance to survive.

Aragorn and Gimli spent the rest of the night by Legolas' side, from time to time wetting the clothes and feeding him herbal teas to fight the fever and keep him hydrated. When the new day dawned, they were tired and near despair for the elf's condition only worsened with every passing hour. The ranger was sure that if not for the herbs to keep the poison at bay, he would have already died.

They woke the hobbits before the sun showed itself above the rocky hills. The little ones were deeply shocked when they realized the suffering of their wounded and delirious friend, who was now moaning and thrashing around. After a hurried breakfast, they gathered their supplies and broke the camp. Aragorn carefully lifted Legolas in his arms like he had done the day before, and the others took the packs. Then they began their way towards the woods of Lothlorien.