The room was still, finally. The healer cleaned the last of her things, wiping the blood from a bottle and gently placing it beside the others. It wasn't the first time they had been through this, but this time was the worst one yet. She looked over to her sleeping charge. The king sat at his bedside, gently holding his son's hand, just below where the bandages ended.

She wondered what ran through the king's mind in times like these. She was one of the only ones who was permitted to see him treat his son like this, with such care and love. She approached the bed slowly, intent on checking her charge one last time before leaving him for a few hours.

Nothing had changed since the last time she had checked on him. He burned with fever, but that was only to be expected with the amount of venom in his system. They had drained most of it from the wound, but the last of it was left for him to fight on his own, it is too dangerous to do otherwise. She worried it wouldn't be enough.

She bowed her head to the king who barely looked up and turned to leave. There was nothing more she could do for either of them tonight. She had been honest with the king, making certain he understood there was still a chance the prince would relapse and not make it. She shuddered at the thought. She knew first hand what both of them sacrificed for the safety of the kingdom already. The grief would shatter their king.

She had seen Legolas come into her ward time after time in need of care. Most times he walked in himself, but occasionally, like today, he had to be carried by his comrades, those were the days she saw the toll it also took on the king.

She shook her head as the scene from earlier played in her head. She had been seeing to another soldier, one of Captain Thaladir's unit, who had just arrived who was beyond exhausted, making certain he hadn't suffered anything more. He had told them the prince's unit was coming and in bad shape, but the warning did very little to prepare them for what showed up on their doorstep.

Soldier, bloody clothes torn, carried their injured companions on litters made from their own tattered cloaks. Wide-eyed and trembling, some were reluctant to trust anyone with their charge. The last came in with the prince.

Elhael was called over immediately and she immediately ordered the prince to be taken into the royal quarters. The soldiers obeyed her command, but when she asked them to leave, they hovered by the doorway.

"You need to leave so I may care for the prince," she said as she shuffled them out. She would have simply slammed the door in their face under different circumstances, but she had seen the fea gripping terror in their eyes and didn't know if their fragile state could handle even that. So instead, she left the door cracked open and trusted the others to care for them as she turned her attention back to her charge.

He lay on the table, limp, one hand hanging off the side as blood dripped from it. She reached over and gently lifted it back onto the table. Her assistant came in bearing rags and warm water and they set to work, tearing off the last of his ragged tunic and mopping up the black-laced blood in order to find the wounds she knew covered his body.

It took them hours. The king was notified the moment the party had arrived momently later, his soft footfalls pattering the floor back and forth just outside. She was glad he didn't push to be present. He didn't need to see this. It took them hours to cover the multitude of wounds on the prince's body. Spider venom leaked from most, while others had festered in dirt and grime. She marveled that he was still breathing.

Finally, the blood flow slowed, the venom was removed and bandages were put in place to cover the stitches. She wiped her hands and left her assistant to move him into bed while she spoke with the king. She swallowed, dreading the conversation to come, then drew herself up.

She dropped her apron from her hand as she stepped out. The king looked up immediately, his face drawn and hair slightly haggard. She bowed respectively.

The king cleared his throat. "How is he?" his voice trembled slightly. King or no, he was still a parent and worried no different than any other father.

"My lord," she began, trying her best to keep her own voice steady. "Prince Legolas is sleeping peacefully. We drained as much of the venom from his system as we could, but the rest is in his blood and he must fight on his own. That is our main concern, though he also lost a lot of blood and infection is likely to occur regardless."

"Will... will he live?"

She shook her head. "There is no way to know for certain at this moment, but he has lived this long so I have hope for him. He has a strong spirit and will fight as long as he can."

The king nodded. "May I see him?"

She nodded, her hand reaching for her apron. "Of course, but I must warn you, he is in a bad way and is not expected to wake for quite a while yet. He will likely have nightmares brought on by fever before it is all said and done. I would advise your Majesty to prepare yourself for the worst." The king nodded mutely, his eyes misted red. She had said that last part to him numerous times, but each time it seemed to weigh on them both just a little more.

As expected, the prince began to stir several hours later. The king nearly jumped out of his chair as he called her over, hovering over his son. He called to him, but she knew there was very little chance the prince heard his father's call, though she didn't have the heart to tell him so.

She placed her hand on the prince's burning forehead and furrowed her brow as her assumptions of infection were proved correct. A bowl of cool water and rags sat on the table beside her and she gently pressed one to his forehead. Without being asked, the king took her place in gently holding it there as Legolas began to mumble incoherently.

"Easy, ion nin," the king murmured over and over. Together they worked to keep the unconscious prince from hurting himself further as he ran from his hallucinations.

The prince cried out as phantoms tormented him just out of their reach even as they held him until, finally, the prince stilled, letting out a long breath before his breathing evened out once more. The king sat back and she took his place in replacing the towel.

She wiped the sweat from the prince's face and neck, frowning at the color lost in his skin. The king must have seen it too because he buried his face in his hands, letting out a small cry. Deep, aching, exhaustion seeped from his very presence. She turned away, letting him grieve in peace.

"Why?" he asked, voice no more than a whisper. She turned around.

"Pardon?"

He looked up, running a hand over his face and through his hair, though several strands fall back over his eyes. "Why does it come to this so often? Did I do something to upset the Valar? Because if so, why do they take it out on him?

"He serves this kingdom like no other, much better than I did and probably better than I ever will. You've seen the number of times he's dragged himself and others back from the front lines injured or dying." He bowed his head and the rest of his hair fell over his face. "Why are they punishing him?"

She wondered at his sudden outburst, but then again, she couldn't comprehend what it must be like to come to always assume your child will have to be stitched and bandaged every time they returned home. The thought made her stomach twist. But she shook it away and turned back to the prince, replacing the cloth once again.

"I don't know, my lord," she answered finally. "But I don't believe this is the Valar's doing. No, the Valar are kind." She looked up, meeting his drawn gaze. "This is the work of darker powers. They target your son because he is simply that, your son. They know if they can hurt him, they can hurt you. You must stay strong, my king. Your kingdom needs you, and perhaps more importantly, your son needs you. Especially now." She sighed, wiping the sweat away as he stirred once more. She couldn't imagine the images the fever poisoned his mind with.

The king nodded at her words, his chin resting on his fingers. Slowly, he reached out and took his son's hand in his. An unusual gesture under normal circumstances, but a needed one now as the prince stilled at his touch.

It only lasted a few minutes though before the prince stirred again and they struggled to keep him still as they waited for the episode to pass.

It would still be a long night, but the king and prince would face it the same as they had every other time, clinging to the hope of dawn and pulling each other from their demon's dark grasp.