Legolas and Tauriel: What I Did For Love

27: Sickness

[Tauriel POV]

"And you still don't know how the king ended up in the tunnel?" I asked Elladan for the hundredth time.

He sighed. "If I didn't know the first time, why would I know now?"

"You could have thought about it as you rode and come up with a reason."

"Well, I didn't."

"Prickly," I muttered under my breath.

"I can still hear very well, you know."

I rolled my eyes and dropped back in the line to check on the wounded. Specifically, Legolas and Thranduil. The king, while being battered and bruised, seemed to be improving. He had even woken up a few times, in the last two days since we had left the tunnel.

Legolas, however, was showing no such signs. His fever had only deepened. The healer said there was some kind of poison in his system, but until we were back in Rivendell, he could do no more. It was maddening.

The sun was low when we rode down the long winding path into the Valley of Rivendell. They had been warned of our arrival and hot food, baths, and beds were waiting for us. Exhausted as I was, I decided to chek on Legolas and Thranduil before going to bed myself.

As his bouts of consciousness became longer and more frequent, Thranduil had been informed of his son's condition and, in deference to their rank, they had been placed in rooms of their own, rather than in the infirmary.

I did not enter Thranduil's room but was informed that he was improving rapidly. Hopefully, he would be able to give us insight on why the goblins had captured him.

Softly, I opened the door to Legolas's room. A nurse sat near his bed, knitting rapidly while keeping watch. Legolas himself lay on the bed, his face flushed with fever.

The nurse made to protest a stranger being in his room.

"It's alright," I assured her. "I'm a friend. I won't stay long."

Gently, I brushed the hair back from his forehead. "Goodnight," I told him, rising from the bed.

The nurse evidently thought I was talking to her and responded. "Goodnight."

When I was almost to my room, Taurwe met me in the hall.

"I heard about Legolas," he said putting his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Taurwe." I hugged him, tightly.

He held me for a long time. But I didn't cry. For some reason, the tears would not come. Mostly, I think I was too tired to cry.

The next day I spent mostly caring for Legolas. His fever was so much worse in the morning that the healers sent for Lord Elrond. His face was lined with worry after he had examined him.

"I have seen poisons like this before," he said, turning to me. "The chances of survival are slim, especially in his weakened state. If he does survive, there may be lingering after-effects. They differ with every case."

I lowered my head. I had dealt with poison before, but nothing like this.

"I will do what I can, Tauriel. And he his stubborn. I don't think he will give in to the poison easily. There is hope for him yet."

I spent nearly the whole day in that bright, sunny room that defied all sickness and yet sickness still reigned. Once, in the afternoon, Taurwe persuaded me to take a short walk with him, but I was back soon after. News drifted in from time to time as maids came to bring fresh bandages or water and the occasional bit of food. I learned that Thranduil was improving rapidly and was expected to be allowed up the following day.