"Legolas," Éowyn said as she entered the infirmary, and Legolas leapt back into his bed. "Yes, do jump into bed before I arrive. I shall never know you were out of bed again." She sighed, sounding weary before a smile found its way onto her lips. Legolas briefly regretted that he was such a difficult patient. "Gandalf would like to see you."

Legolas nodded. After sensing the departure of the Enemy, he had thought Gandalf might come to the infirmary to free him. "Has he spoken with the king?"

"Gandalf has done much in recent hours," she said, her smile growing, and she gestured to the doorway.

Legolas rose at once. He had already considered sneaking out, but had stopped at the thought of Lady Éowyn's wrath. He tugged on his borrowed tunic. It felt odd and was too small for him, but he was grateful for it just the same. As he moved to the door, the woman stopped him.

"Here." She began wrapping a cloth around his neck and arm.

"What is this?"

"This will rest your hand while you are standing. Else, while the fingers are so swollen, the blood will not flow properly. It will become uncomfortable."

He stared at the contraption into which she had tied him. His protest was halted by the easing of the pressure that had already grown in his fingers. Reluctantly, he accepted the sling. Éowyn led him to the king's Hall through corridors wan in the morning's light.

The woman slowed before the doors to the Hall. She looked Legolas over, tugged on a sleeve, but it was simply too short. His leggings just reached his ankles, but at least they were without holes. Apparently deeming him acceptable, her hint of a smile as she opened the doors unnerved him.

The hall was dim, but Legolas clearly saw a group of people at the end of the hall. They turned to him as one and his breath caught in his throat.

"Legolas!" The hobbits ran for him, and after a moment of shock that froze him still, Legolas grabbed the hobbits and hugged them both with his free arm.

As they grabbed at Legolas, he winced as he laughed. "Merry! Pippin! What a wonder to see you! I knew not if you lived or what fate Saruman had left for you." He was dismayed to hear his voice so rough. "It is a joy to know you are well and whole and together."

"Actually, we weren't together until a few hours ago," Merry said, his eyes somber despite his smile. "But that's a very long story. You'd best have a seat and a drink were we to begin it." Legolas grinned, overjoyed to hear hobbits speaking of food and drink.

Aragorn approached. "It seems the Valar have seen fit to bring us all to Edoras." He threw a knowing a glance to Gandalf.

"When did you arrive, Legolas?" Merry asked. "How?"

"I arrived with Gandalf last night, many hours after sunset. How that came to be is another long tale."

"I assure you all," Gandalf interjected, "I did not keep his presence from you deliberately. I fear I was a bit preoccupied with a Ringwraith and a corrupt wizard."

Legolas's brow darkened as he scrutinized Gandalf and his words. "Do you mean to say Saruman is here in Edoras?" he said sharply.

"He is. Our encounter concluded ...as it must."

Legolas heard the note of regret in Gandalf's voice, but he had no interest in deciphering the wizard's words. "You have seen to them both, then?"

"Théoden has imprisoned Saruman. He will keep for the moment. The Nazgûl is no more." Legolas thought it peculiar to imprison a wizard, but for now trusted Gandalf's judgment.

As the hobbits barraged Legolas with more questions, he kept an ear on Gandalf's conversation with Éowyn. "He is greatly improved since I left him in your capable hands. I was right to trust you."

"I am pleased you think so. At times I felt I could do little for him but cover him in bandages." He dropped his arm that had clutched his torso. "I told him that rib was broken, but he would not allow me to wrap it."

"You have wrapped my entire body in gauze," Legolas answered, turning from the hobbits. "I beg you leave some part for me to see my skin."

Éowyn looked at Gandalf with an impatient look. "He may have survived the torment of orcs, but he will not live much longer if he must remain in the infirmary."

Gandalf grinned. "Had he been compliant and obedient, I would have feared the elf was near death." Legolas shot Gandalf a scowl, but the wizard avoided his eyes.

"After clothing, feeding, and tending to Legolas's wounds as best as I am able, I fear I can do nothing more for him."

"You may bring me food, Lady Éowyn," the elf interrupted again with a smile. "I told you, food is all I truly need to heal."

Pippin looked to Merry. "He sounds like a hobbit."

Legolas laughed, and it seemed an age had passed since he had last felt such joy.

Gimli and Aragorn approached him more cautiously than the hobbits. As their critical eyes raked over him, Legolas was aware his injuries, his pallor, and gaunt appearance would not go unnoticed.

Gimli's mouth opened then closed, his hands fiddling with his beard nervously, a strange expression on his face. Legolas had never seen the dwarf in such a state. Nevertheless, relief flooded him at the sight of his friend. "Bless the Valar, you survived." But Gimli remained silent, and something in his nervousness stayed Legolas's feet, and he could not go to him.

Aragorn stepped into the awkwardness. "My friend, my heart is greatly eased to know you live. You are much improved, I hear, under the Lady Éowyn's care. I only hope you did not drive her from her role as healer forever."

Now Legolas grinned. "I did my best." He did not look at Éowyn. Later, he might regret the comment.

Aragorn took a step closer and touched a hand to Legolas's loose hair, a smile quirking at his lips. "And what is this? No braids?"

Legolas's grey eyes grew dark. He raised his right hand, displaying his splinted his fingers. "I cannot braid my hair," he said flatly. "I am simply satisfied it is clean."

Whispering beside him irked Legolas. He turned to see Merry and Gimli smiling, clearly scheming. Gandalf nodded to a guard, who went to the king seated at his throne.

"Come, Legolas, and pay your respects to the king." Gandalf said.

"Of course, Gandalf." Legolas walked as smoothly as he was able the length of the hall to the throne.

"Greetings, King Théoden of Rohan," he said with a low bow. "I apologize for tarrying to the throne. Truly, I am honored by this audience, and by the hospitality of the Rohirrim, as well as the care your healers have shown. The Rohirrim are a fine people."

The King smiled. "I thank you for your noble words. No harm done in your tarrying. Such a reunion of friends is a rare sight. It warms the heart. I was informed there was an elf in our midst, but I fear that is all I know of you."

"Forgive me, lord. I am Legolas Greenleaf, of the realm of Greenwood the Great, known to many as Mirkwood, ruled by King Thranduil."

"Like your friends, you have traveled far from home." Legolas nodded. "I am pleased to say I—we—have something for you." He glanced at Gimli, who with Gandalf had come to stand beside the king. Aragorn, the hobbits, and Éowyn stood quietly behind Legolas.

Gimli grinned mischievously then sobered suddenly as he stepped forward, clearing his throat and grasping his hands. "Legolas," he began, with great weight in the name. He was silent a moment before starting again. "Some losses are unrecoverable, and some are returned as gifts." With that, the guard turned from the throne holding what Legolas had never dreamed of seeing again.

Legolas stood as still as stone. As the guard passed the bow to Gandalf, Legolas's eyes followed the weapon, growing wider as it neared. When he did not take it from Gandalf, Gimli prompted, "It is yours, Legolas, and it is real, you have my word."

Legolas's left hand drew out slowly to grasp the bow. He then freed his right hand from the sling to run his splinted fingers along the weapon. His mouth hung open as he peered at the bow, inspecting every inch and every rune. "My bow," he whispered. "I thought..." He caressed it reverently and felt a part of himself no healer could touch begin to heal.

"It is truly by chance that this weapon has returned to you," Merry said. "While Gimli and I made our way to Edoras, we came across scouts returning from far across Rohan. Actually, they came across us, and it was good, for without them, I don't know that we would have made it here at all.

"But as they were about to return to Edoras with us on their horses' as new baggage, Gimli spied the bow poking out from one of the scout's packs. There is no bow such as this, I know you'll agree. The man said he found the weapon in a field, where there seemed to have been a scuffle, leagues and leagues away. Aragorn's sword was close by."

"Bless the Valar! This gift brings me more joy than I can express, Meriadoc Brandybuck. But I will say I feel still more joy to see you."

Gimli came forth then, playing nervously with his beard again. Then he looked up at Legolas intensely, clearing his throat. "I am more gratified and gladdened than you can ever know," he said quietly, "to see you here in Edoras, free of the orcs. But, I—I must beg your forgiveness."

At his words, Merry came to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder. Gimli looked at Merry, something passed between them unfathomable even to Legolas.

"Merry found me in Orthanc, by chance loose from my chains after they had given me water, and we were able to find our way out of the tower, climbing up a vent, of all things!"

Legolas's left hand gripped his bow tightly. He was unable to take his eyes from Gimli, his face suddenly taut, heedless of the silence that had fallen around them. "Once we knew we had found a passage that might lead out, we began to go back to retrieve you, but Saruman had come down to the pits. He was speaking to the orcs. We could not return! We had to go on—" Gimli swallowed, "—without you. I—I pray that one day you can forgive me."

Legolas found himself drawn back to the tower, envisioning their escape. With his broken hand and foot, Legolas could not have climbed out of the vent. It was possible that by that time, he was also too weak, he had to admit. How Gimli had accomplished the same he knew not—perhaps dwarves were indeed the superior race.

But Legolas had been chained to a wall. There had been no way to free him without losing their chance at freedom.

Nevertheless, however long he mused over it, he could not shake the sense of having been left behind. Though he had prayed for Gimli's freedom and well-being, once out of his chains and making his own escape, he had longed for his friend's presence, if only for the comfort he might provide.

Legolas's feeling of abandonment had nothing to do with reason or wits. His heart longed for assurance that his friends would have done anything to free him. For no reason he could fathom, Gimli's words were not enough.

Gimli had finished speaking, and silence filled the room. His expression did not change, his posture moved not a hair. All seemed to wait for his response. Only, he had none. A long silence followed, broken only by Gimli's shuffling.

Finally, Legolas managed, "I understand," but he was unable to put any sincerity into the words.

Gimli stood before him, eyes clasped shut, denied the forgiveness he sought. Merry's hand grasped one friend's shoulder as the hobbit looked bewildered at the other. Legolas tried to find within him what Gimli asked of him, but he found nothing.

"Legolas, you should return to the infirmary to rest," Éowyn said suddenly. Legolas had forgotten her presence, but was suddenly glad for it. "You have been out of bed quite long enough. And I will see about having another meal brought for you."

Still ill at ease, Legolas began to relax as she led him away. "I am yet weary." He clutched his recovered bow and left the Golden Hall.