The stony walls of his bedchamber greeted Haldir as he awoke from what felt to be an odd dream before an inkling of recollection seeped into his mind. Somewhere between leaving the table and making his way up the stairs, his memory faltered, unable to recall how he had come to recline upon the bed once again although certainly he had meant to lie there if he had awakened in that position. Why he was still clothed, however, was a mystery best suited for later investigation.

A thin shaft of moonlight filtered through the tightly drawn draperies, illuminating a silvery path against the dull gray of the floor, the only glimpse of the outside world provided for his viewing. Suddenly, his accommodations were much to stifling, the confines of the room much too close for an elf accustomed to the open air of nature's magnificent glow. He needed to get out.

Pulling on the oddly familiar boots, he slipped from the room as quietly as a shadow passes through paling darkness, leaving neither sound nor suggestion in his wake.

The air of the courtyard was crisp and cool, the grasses fragrant with the hint of forthcoming lily blossoms. Haldir breathed deeply, welcoming the fresh tingle of twilight into his senses.

The sky's clear brilliance was unblemished by even the faintest wisp of a cloud, bathing the lush greenery of the courtyard in silvery light as the creatures of the night whispered quiet songs of contentment amongst the leaves and meadow plants. Haldir knelt before the glowing face of the moon reverently, his head bowed momentarily in a silent prayer of gratitude for the beauty that surrounded him. A smile of almost childlike delight then spread over his lips as he collapsed languidly into the embrace of the verdant mattress beneath him, cushioned by its hearty yet pliable stems. Stray lengths of grass caressed his cheek with their feathered fronds, tickled the pointed tips of his ears playfully as the moist scent of damp earth mingled with the light sweetness of new foliage.

He resisted the urge to roll about like a dog with senses beguiled by the wondrous splendor of nature but chose instead to remain on his back, absorbing the radiant clarity of the night sky. For the first time in many weeks, he felt at peace, lying in the serene darkness lit only by the glow of the moon.

His tranquility, however, was to be short-lived. The unwelcome shift of vertigo coupled with a rolling surge of nausea swept suddenly over him, tearing him from his blissful stretch amongst the grasses. His stomach lurched as he rose into a sitting position, moving as carefully as possible in attempts to rid himself the urge to become violently ill. Drawing in a slow, deep breath of cooling air, he closed his eyes and concentrated his energy on calming his turbulent insides, feeling as if the very ground he rested upon were spinning into a black oblivion. No matter how valiant the effort, he soon knew that all attempts to stall the inevitable were in vain, for his body rebelled violently against the will of his mind and he staggered to his feet, refusing to be sick in the open where just anyone could happen upon him.

Despite the constant, dizzying shift in his vision, he managed to stumble away from the field of grass and into the density of the small thicket which bordered the walls of the courtyard, where he braced himself against the trunk of an ancient oak tree with one arm, awaiting his unpleasant fate. His stomach clenched in painful spasms as he retched with considerable force, bringing up the meager contents of his evening meal along with what felt to be several of his toenails.

Apparently eating anything at all was suddenly proving to be a most fatal mistake, for the heaving sickness seemed to neither subside nor abate, until he fell to his hands and knees, his body wracked with a convulsive gag.

Gasping for breath, praying for reprieve, he sought desperately to quell the oily nausea which slithered through his stomach, to regain control of his body just long enough to drag himself away from the thicket and breathe the open air rather than the foulness which seemed to engulf his senses, making him impossibly sick once more. He reached a groping hand to his side, seeking something solid with which to grasp and pull himself from the indecently prone posture the sickness had forced upon him.

A firm yet gentle hand suddenly grasped his flailing wrist, hauling him unexpectedly to his feet.

"You, my friend, are the most stubborn creature I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."

Haldir's cheeks, previous devoid of any color save a sallow and sickly white, flamed with scarlet heat for the it was the voice of Lord Elrond that greeted his ears. Completely and utterly mortified at the thought of the noble Elven Lord seeing him in such a shameful position, he sought to pull away, yet Elrond's grip was surprisingly strong and Haldir lacked the strength to fight him.

"There is no shame in sickness, Haldir. Do not seek to resist me. Let me help you, you arrogant elf!"

The commanding displeasure of Elrond's tone was enough to stay Haldir's futile resistance.

"Come now, Haldir. I shall bring you an herb to calm your stomach, but you must walk with me to a place better suited for sitting."

Elrond's arm slid around his waist, steadying him as Haldir weakly draped his own arm across the other elf's shoulders, allowing himself to be lead slowly across the still-whispering grasses. The pair had not journeyed far before Haldir was overtaken with dizzying sickness yet again, forcing him onto all fours as he clutched at the grass, gagging in revulsion. Elrond's gentle hand slipped beneath Haldir's long locks, holding them away from his face until the March Warden was released from the clutch of illness. He lent his hand to Haldir and the archer accepted it without complaint, allowing the Elven Lord to help him stand upright. Against his will, he leaned heavily against Elrond, feeling both grateful and humiliated.

At last, they reached the edge of the clearing where Elrond helped him onto a stone bench. Haldir's shoulders slumped defeatedly as he sat in abashed resignation, unable to contest as Elrond slipped his ornate robe from his body and draped it around him. It wasn't until then that Haldir realized he was shivering violently. The heavy robe was warm from the heat of Elrond's skin and smelled faintly of lavender, the scent soothingly pleasant.

Elrond laid a kind hand on Haldir's leg, his somber gaze filled with compassionate sympathy for the archer's condition. "Rest here for a moment. I shall return shortly."

Drawing the velvety softness of Elrond's thick robe closer to his fevered flesh, Haldir sighed heavily. Never had he shown such weakness in front of another, at least not that he could recall. His pride was encumbered with the burden of illness, so he dwelt on thoughts of self-humiliation no longer, praying that his stomach would at least remain calm long enough for Elrond to bring him the herbal concoction he had promised.

The Elven Lord returned shortly, a wooden mug filled with a steaming liquid could not identify.

"The taste is bitter, but try to keep it down. It shall ease your suffering," Elrond said as he handed the mug to Haldir, who sipped it gingerly.

The archer grimaced and spat. The potion tasted of sour, green berries and licorice root, a most unpalatable combination.

"This is positively revolting," Haldir coughed, choking down a vile mouthful at last.

Elrond sighed. "Yes, I know. But nothing that seeks to make one better would taste of honey, now would it, March Warden?"

Haldir managed a hoarse laugh as he forced another swallow of the foul liquid down his throat. Almost instantly, his rebellious stomach sought to disgorge the herbal remedy, but the medicine began to take effect before he could further shame himself before Lord Elrond. The rolling nausea began to subside at last and he sighed gratefully.

"Hantale, mellon-nin," Haldir breathed, sipping the warm liquid a bit more easily now, the simple feel of its heat lending his shivering body a shield of strength against the chill of sickness.

Elrond smiled kindly and draped one arm around Haldir's shoulders almost protectively. Haldir unconsciously leaned into the comforting embrace, his thoughts feeling a bit fuzzy.

"Tired," he mumbled into the stiff silk of Elrond's regal tunic.

"As you should be," Elrond said. "Come, let us get you to your chambers before you are forced to spend the night in the courtyard with my royal robes!"