Legolas' breath caught in his throat as Haldir appeared in the doorway of the dining hall clad in the thick, velvety tunic that hung seductively across his hips, the leather belt that secured the twin daggers across his waist slung low and tight. Generous slits on both sides afforded a view of his snug black breeches and the contours of the muscles beneath the soft leather. Although as tall as Legolas and equally graceful, the Elven archer was visibly larger in stature, his shoulders and chest broader, causing the curvature of his body to accentuate the slim waist and muscular legs that were not as typical of Legolas Rivendell kin. The icy blue of the material appeared to almost blend with Haldirs flowing silvery locks in the low lit candle light of dining area, sharpening the planes and angels of his face more so than Legolas had ever noticed them to be. The familiar dark red cape of the March Warden's elite status billowed behind him as he approached the table, head high, gaze unflinchingly calm. Until this moment, Haldir's full beauty had escaped his notice, but now, it was glowingly apparent with every footfall of his graceful stride. Unconsciously, Legolas wet his lips with a single stroke of his tongue, silently praying that the other elf was paying his gaping stare no mind.

Haldir shifted his belt so that the scimitars it housed would not knock and rattle against the ornately carved chair and took a seat beside Legolas. The archer winced slightly as his still bruised shoulders brushed against the back of the chair, forcing him to sit up a bit straighter to avoid contact with the wood, but none paid his posture any heed, save Legolas, who watching Haldir's every move with concerned reservation.

"Your appetite has returned then?" Legolas asked.

"Only vaguely," Haldir admitted, "but I know that I must eat in order to speed my healing."

Although Haldir's outward appearance and composure boasted of elegant tranquility, Legolas knew the archer carried himself in such a manner partially to conceal his many cuts and bruises as well as to present an air of control and well-being. None of this served to delude Legolas into believing that Haldir felt as he looked. A few delicate sniffles as well as the occasional quiet cough was proof of his facade, but Legolas would never deny him the chance to present himself otherwise. Haldir was quite possibly prouder and vainer than Legolas himself, so for this reason, he kept his silence and spoke not of Haldir's ill health.

Both elves and men feasted in the great hall this evening, and the atmosphere was one of both gaiety and sadness over the Battle of Helms Deep. Stories were exchanged and condolences offered while man and elf ate and drank away the lingering emotions of post war tensions amongst the tantalizing aromas of roast boar and honeyed mead .

Haldir engaged in very little conversation, mostly listening to the tales of others rather than telling his own. Legolas sensed that he still had yet to embrace the reality of almost losing his life in battle as well as witnessing the loss of the lives of so many of his brethren. In fact, the archer showed very little emotion at all other than a calm pleasantry that Legolas felt certain he feigned as well as he covered his pain and sickness. But Legolas knew it festered in his heart. . . and that was troubling. Release of such feelings could quite possibly speed his healing dramatically, but he dared not suggest such a soul bearing act to the other elf just yet. If ever.

Perhaps Haldir had his own method of dealing with such matters, but Legolas feared the sadness would cause the archer needless suffering for a prolonged period of time. Possibly he might speak with Elrond or Glorfindel about the best way to approach such a thing without appearing to pry or force a healing Haldir may simply not be ready for.

After eating comparatively little to most others at the table, Haldir rose to his feet, announcing that he was retiring for the evening. None questioned his decision, but instead bid him a fond farewell to which he responded with a polite nod before stepping away from the feasting warriors. There was now a stiff quality to his usually gliding gait that only one such as Legolas would notice.

Glorfindel, who had been monitoring Legolas as closely as Legolas had been watching Haldir, leaned across the table to his friend and spoke softly in Elvish, "Follow him, Legolas. He does not look well."

"I intended to do so anyway," Legolas said.

A smile parted Glorfindel's lips. "There was never a doubt that you would not, my friend. Hurry before he reaches the stairs, but do not let him see you. Just keep watch."

"He will not see me if I do not wish to be seen," Legolas assured Glorfindel before departing from the table as well.

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Legolas shadowed Haldir's footsteps through the corridors and into the courtyard where the archer had paused to gaze at the clear brilliance of the night sky. For a moment, he looked as thought he may take a moment to commune with the natural beauty that surrounded him, but the consideration of this thought passed and he lingered no longer, making his way towards the main hall that lead to the winding staircase.

Legolas followed soundlessly, intending to make certain that the archer actually made it up the stairs without incident, but not offering any assistance outright. This might infringe upon Haldir's already fragile pride. It would certainly have that effect on Legolas, were he in the other elfs position!

Haldir reached the staircase and placed his hand upon the marble banister, pausing as if in sudden thought. As if the suggestion in his mind pained him, he squeezed his eyes shut and winced.

Legolas cocked his head to one side, puzzled by the strange course of actions, but made no move to help nor hinder Haldir. He merely observed, quietly lurking in the shadows.

Suddenly, Haldir flinched again, this time with a sharp, hitching breath of air, grasping the ornate railing of the banister once again as if bracing himself. The simple act of breathing became a labored and intense struggle as he fought to maintain a secure footing, but his still ravaged body would not allow it to be as such. He groaned in pain, seeking the support of the staircase with one hand while pressing the back of his head with the other, his sense of balance faltering.

Legolas was at his side instantly, catching the other elf in his arms before he could hit the hard marbled floor.

"Legolas!" Haldir cried in a voice strained with proud indignation and surprised relief.

"Be at peace, my friend," Legolas said gently. "I only wish to help you."

"Let me be," Haldir grumbled, stumbling away from the prince weakly, still holding a hand to the back of his head. "I am fine."

He staggered a short distance away, swaying dangerously with the effects of vertigo. Legolas leapt to grab his wrist, pulling him from another crumpling fall so swiftly that he almost toppled them both.

"Mordor Fires, Haldir, you cannot even walk properly!" Legolas said, still holding fast to his wrist although the other elf shot blue daggers of anger through him with his dark eyes.

"Unhand me, Legolas!" Haldir snarled menacingly.

Legolas boldly returned his stare. "I will not."

"Then you shall have to steal my consciousness with an axe handle once more before I. . ." Haldirs voice faded as the dizzying pull of blackness seemed to envelope the depths of his now unfocused gaze. "B-before. . ."

He never finished the sentence but fell forward and collapsed into a limp heap of silvery blue into Legolas' arms, the sudden and swift pull of darkness overcoming him. Legolas held tightly to the beautiful elf until his full weight rested against him, then gently, with the utmost of care, he lifted Haldir's prone body into his arms, cradling the archers injured head against his chest as one would a sick child. Haldir moaned softly, still pinned beneath the cloak of unconsciousness as the Elven prince slowly ascending the stairs, carrying him without strain until he reached the room where he had watched Haldir lay for so many days, fighting to come forth from the edge of death and back into the light.

Legolas laid him gently on the bed, Haldir's silken locks spreading across the pillow like ripples of moonlit water, and covered him with the warmest of the thick blankets, leaving the archer fully clothed, save his boots which he slipped from the archer's feet carefully so as not to rouse him. For a moment, he paused, taking in the elegant beauty he had so recently come to recognize, even more lovely in the peace of what now was merely sleep, his features softened by the depth of his slumber. Legolas traced the fair outline of the March Warden's jaw with the back of one hand, noting the fevered warmth that still lingered there. Haldir's skin was much like the silk of his hair, smooth and unmarred by scars or time. Such a stunning creature.

Haldir's breath was steady now, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his sleep. This natural act simply mesmerized Legolas, whos hand had mysteriously found its way into Haldir's long hair, twining the soft strands between his fingers. As if drawn by some outside force, Legolas bent and pressed his lips against the warmth of Haldir's mouth in a gentle, lingering kiss before moving away from the bedside, leaving the other elf to dwell in what he hoped were pleasant dreams.

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