Voices floated above his head in a cadence of warbling chaos. Something soft and cool pressed against his forehead. Seconds passed before it became as hot as his burning body. Fabric chafed against his hot dry skin. He felt his clothes being removed and his body lifted before icy cold struck his bare skin, he screamed in pain. Gentle hands caressed his face but he jerked away, their touch sending bolts of fire through him.

For a long time he lay shivering in the frigid cold, straining to open his eyes and see the light that filtered weakly through. At last exhaustion took hold and he slipped into an eternal blackness.

§§§

He was bruised, bloodied, battered, and alone with naught but a weak shaft of moonlight barely shining through the surrounding darkness that seeped malice. He lay on his side on a smooth floor that swayed slowly. Iron bars surrounded him. Something smooth and round rested in the palm of his hand but when he looked down he was horrified to discover that the hand was not his own, nor did it move of his own accord. Slowly the hand, red with blood, unfolded to reveal a dark green stone fitted neatly into the palm of his hand. Illeandir studied the stone carefully, the stone felt... familiar, yet he could not place it. The only thing that came to mind was the sound of a rushing river.

Pain shot through him. Whether it was his or whoever's eyes he was seeing through he could not tell, perhaps both. The spasm of pain cause the hand to jerk and the small stone slipped between his fingers and rolled through the bars and disappeared into the darkness.

With a choking scream Illeandir and the person trapped in the strange cell lunged for the stone but it was too late. A strange sense of loss filled Illeandir. He felt as if he had just lost something vital to his survival. Then he realized it wasn't coming from him, instead emanating from the figure pressed against the cold bars trying to reach into the unimaginable depths below.

The figure slumped over and turned his face toward the moon, whereupon Illeandir got his first look at him. Ragged black hair hung down past his shoulders framing a thin, pale face with silver eyes. A face he never thought he'd see again...

§§§

"Zaharias!" Illeandir shouted, sitting straight up and snapping his eyes open. He was drenched in sweat and bare-skinned down to the waist.

Someone next to him sat up and tried pushing him back down. He fought them, thinking they were there to hurt him. He jerked and nearly fell off the bed he lay on. He was caught by soft hands and hauled back up, still fighting them.

"Help me!" they urged. Another pair of hands pushed Illeandir back down. Weak, exhausted, and trembling with fear Illeandir let them push him back down. The person who had helped lay him down again spoke, a woman.

"He's frightened." Their voice was soft with worry but also heavy with grief. Turning his head, Illeandir looked at them and instantly recognized the fiery blue eyes and open face.

"Nara?" His voice was hoarse and it hurt to speak. Nara smiled. Illeandir felt the tension leave his body.

"How do you feel?" she asked laying a small hand on his shoulder briefly.

"Better." Illeandir replied. He sensed movement beside and turned to face it. The sight that met his eyes chased all other thoughts from his mind. An elleth with white blonde hair stood beside him. Her starry blue eyes pierced his green ones with fierce intensity. She was finely built and delicate but her steely eyes bore testament to hard resolve and stubbornness.

"I'm not alone." Illeandir whispered. The elleth smiled.

"No, young one, you are not." she said. Illeandir sighed and slipped back into a deep, healing sleep.

§§§

He was flying far over the landscape, the ground below blurred as he raced passed. Fields, forests, rivers, and valleys passed underneath him until he came to a mountain range looming high in the sky, seemingly endless to the south and north. Suddenly he was plummeting through the sky and toward the ground where, at the last second, he spotted a small hole dug into the earth. The light vanished, only a small glimmer as if from a candle remained, as he twisted and turned though the narrow tunnel at an astonishing rate.

He suddenly slowed down as the tunnel opened up and more passages branched off from the main tunnel. He continued straight until he passed the fifth tunnel and turned left at the next one then turned left again. The tunnels opened up into a cavern twenty feet high and thirty feet across. He flew straight across it and dove into another twisting tunnel. Left, straight, right, left, and straight again.

Suddenly his path stopped and he came face to face with a wall. Looking up he noticed the tunnel continued in a vertical path and had no end from what he could see. The next thing he knew he was flying up and out and racing down another tunnel which opened up to reveal a huge cavern.

Thousands upon thousands of goblins scuttled across it like beetles and in the center of it all was the largest and most hideous beast Illeandir had ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon. A small figure lay curled at its feet. The creature, he could only assume it was the leader of the goblins, barked an order and a goblin came forward with a water skin in his hand. He grabbed the figure by the face and forced his mouth open.

Illeandir wanted cry with relief and anger when he saw their face. It was Zaharias, beaten and starved but still the same elf Illeandir had known since he was barely ninety years old. Perhaps, if his dreams could be trusted Zaharias was still alive, though for how much longer Illeandir did not know. He needed to find him before it was too late.

The goblin proceeded to pour the contents of the skin down Zaharias' throat. The elf gagged and coughed violently causing Illeandir to cringe.

A minute passed with the goblins waiting tensley for something to happen. Illeandir forgot he was dreaming and waited with nervous anticipation for whatever was to happen next.

Slowly, deliberately, Zaharias rose to his feet and the goblins cheered. A chill crawled up Illeandir's spine as Zaharias faced the goblin king in defiance, bouncing lightly on his the platforms of his feet with barely restrained energy.

The king raised his hand but just before it dropped the dream faded, replaced by elven dreams that slowly gave way to consciousness...

§§§

Soft singing woke Illeandir. Without moving he opened his eyes and explored the room filled with soft light that seemed to be coming from everywhere. A large variety of plants grew in various sizes of pots and some even sprouted through carefully carved holes in the floor. A large window filled the eastern wall. Sunlight filtered through the window overlooking much of the city and Pelennor Fields. Great ruts in the earth from the battle fought hundreds of years ago still scarred the landscape, though they were less obvious now.

Satisfied that he was, for the moment, safe Illeandir turned his attention to the source of the singing. The elleth with blue eyes sat in a chair rocking back and forth silently while she sang. She wore a long white dress with sleeves that fell loosely about her elbows. In her hands she held a shirt Illeandir recognized as his own. She was mending an arrow hole in the shoulder. A small pile of clothes lay at her feet, they were also his.

Illeandir lay there, listening to her sing of the forest and the stars. She finished the song and worked in silence until she had finished mending the shirt. She dropped it next to her and, without looking at him, said,

"I am sure you have questions."

Illeandir was so startled he jerked and nearly fell off the bed. He caught himself even as the elleth jumped up to try and catch him before he did fall. Groaning softly he pushed himself up into a sitting position as sore muscles stretched for the first time in possibly days. He arms shook as he held himself up. His right arm gave out and he crashed back into the bed with a cry.

"You would do well to not use that arm until you are fully healed. You seem to have a habit of getting shot there."

Illeandir grimaced. He had noticed, especially in the last few years, that his right arm had weakened. Probably due to the immense amount of strain he'd put on it, having broken his forearm twice and been shot five times in the shoulder not to mention the old wound from the goblin attack in Hollin.

"Who are you?" Illeandir asked as he propped himself up against the headboard.

"My name is Ithilwen. I am friend and honorary maid of Princess Nara."

"Honorary?"

"An excuse to be with her whenever I want." Ithilwen said with a smirk.

"Ah, I see." Illeandir said, he had no idea. The complexities of court life escaped him. He was an elf of action. Preferring to solve his problems quickly and usually with a bow and conveniently placed arrow. Titles meant little to nothing to him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You were poisoned."

"I gathered that." Illeandir said. Ithilwen smiled. "By what?"

"Gurthlass." she said solemnly. Illeandir closed his eyes and took a deep breath knowing he should be dead.

"Death Leaf." Gurthlass was one of the deadliest plants in all of Middle Earth. The shiny round leafed plant only grew in what was once known as Mordor. The soil there was so tainted with evil that whatever had managed to grow was twisted and poisonous. As it was, the heart of that black land still lay barren. Only the furthest edges could support such life, but even then it was hardly enough.

The Gurthlass plant was easily recognizable by its shiny black leaves, which very nearly oozed poison. The leaves could be dried and crushed into a deadly powder or pressed and the clear, tasteless poison extracted. Both ways would drop a man within hours and kill him slowly and painfully but if the plant was consumed directly a person could be dead in under five minutes.

"I do not know how you survived." Ithilwen said. "I believe there was enough in you to kill ten men. We had to cover you in ice to slow the poison before we could get the antidote made."

"How long?" Illeandir asked.

"We've kept you in an induced coma for the past two weeks while your body healed. We didn't dare do it the first week, even to stop you from hurting yourself as you thrashed about. You woke once just before we put you in a coma."

Illeandir nodded. He remembered that. He also remembered something else that made his heart leap into his throat.

"El?" he asked. Ithilwen shook her head.

"Nara is with him. He will not survive." she said. Illeandir gave a cry of dismay and tried to get up but Ithilwen pushed him back down. "You are not strong enough! Stay down!" she ordered and with a final push, forced Illeandir onto his back. Faced with his weakness Illeandir didn't move. The fact stung as he held back tears of frustration. He rolled over onto his side and refused to look at Ithilwen's pitying gaze. He didn't want pity, didn't need it.

The door suddenly burst open and Nara ran in, her hair flying wildly about her face. Concern flooded Ithilwen's face as she stood to comfort the princess. But Nara wasn't there for comfort. She turned to Illeandir with tears in her eyes.

"My father wants to see you." she said, trying to muster a commanding voice. Ithilwen drew back.

"He can't. He can't even sit up." she said sharply. To prove her wrong Illeandir slowly sat up, his right arm threatened to give out again. Nara gave Ithilwen a pointed look. Ithilwen sighed. "Look at him." she whispered, moving closer to Nara so Illeandir couldn't hear her. "He's struggling." It was true. His whole body shook and all he wanted was to lay back down but he refused to.

"Is there something you can give him?" Nara asked. Ithilwen shook her head.

"Not without risking his health."

"Please, Wen. My father has held on this long. If you won't do it for him do it for me. I know how much Illeandir means to you but my father is the only friend he has left. Please."

Ithilwen sighed. "He is the last one. I won't risk his life for anything."

"Please, I know you wouldn't, but he has survived this much."

"No! I won't allow it." Ithilwen snapped. She turned away from Nara and gasped. Illeandir was sitting at the edge of his bed with his feet planted firmly on the floor. He looked up at the two women.

"I cannot walk." he said simply. "Nor can I disobey the orders of a king."

Nara let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. Ithilwen huffed.

"Ellons." she muttered. "Stubborn and wild as a stallion." She massaged her temples. "Very well." She turned to Nara who was both smiling and crying. "If he dies it's your fault. Now help me get him up." After much struggling the women managed to help Illeandir to his feet where he stood unsteadily. Ithilwen handed him his freshly mended shirt and he nearly fell over trying to put it on.

He was quite a sight. His cheeks were hollow and skin unnaturally pale. All of his ribs could be easily counted and his shirt no longer fit across his shoulders. Dark circles under his eyes lent him a deathly appearance but his green eyes were bright and clear. Ithilwen looked him up and down and nodded to herself.

"You need food." she said. Illeandir stifled a yawn. "And rest." To that Illeandir had no response.

As much as he hated to admit it, Illeandir wouldn't have gotten far without the aid of Nara and Ithilwen. He may not have even made it out the door. As it was he was utterly exhausted by the time they reached the door leading to where Eldarion lay on his deathbed.

The king of Gondor lay ominously still on the white sheets with his hands laying folded at his chest. Illeandir sat down heavily in the chair next to him. Nara sat on the bed and stroked her father's cheek.

"Da, Illeandir is here." she said. A tear dripped down her cheek. Eldarion stirred and opened his eyes. They were clear but Illeandir could seen their light fading. Eldarion's gaze settled on Illeandir and he smiled softly.

"You look terrible."

"Speak for yourself." Illeandir said, he had not the energy nor will to smile back. "How do you fare?"

"Easier, knowing you are alive and well." Eldarion paused to catch his breath. "Nara, would you please leave us."

"But..." Nara began. Eldarion held up a trembling hand.

"It is not my time, daughter."

"Yes, father." Nara stood and left with Ithilwen following closely.

"She will make a good queen." Eldarion said when they were gone.

"She is young."

"She has her mother's courage."

"And her father's wit." Illeandir said, earning another smile from Eldarion.

"She is ready. Look after her will you? Check in every decade or so?" Eldarion chuckled. This time Illeandir smiled.

"I will."

"Thank you." Eldarion breathed.

"Why did you not tell me about Ithilwen?" Illeandir asked.

"Call me selfish but I wanted an old friend to myself for awhile." Eldarion replied. "She would have found you soon enough." Illeandir could not fault him for that. He would have done the same. The two friends were silent for a while, sharing their last moments together.

Illeandir remembered the dreams he had while he was unconscious.

"While I slept," he began, "I dreamed of an elf."

"Did you recognize this elf?" Eldarion asked, his breath wheezed a little. Illeandir knew he needed to be quick.

"His face was like moonlight and his hair blacker than a raven's wing and his eyes were drops of silver rain."

"Zaharias." Eldarion said. His breathing deepened. Illeandir grasped his hand and leaned close.

"He lives. Zaharias is alive." Illeandir spoke with excitement. Joy filled Eldarion's face. He tried to form words but his breathing came fast and uneven.

"My daughter." he said between gasps. Illeandir saw fear in his eyes.

"Nara!" he shouted. The door burst open and Nara and Ithilwen rushed in. Nara raced to her father's side.

"Da?" she asked. Eldarion held his hand out feebly and she took it, kissing his weathered fist. Illeandir tried to let go of the hand he held but Eldarion would not let him. The fear had left his eyes.

"Stay." he said. Fresh tears burst from Nara's eyes and she sat on the bed at her father's side. Eldarion's breathing slowed. With great effort he spoke again, "Do not weep for me, daughter. I will always be with you."

"I'll miss you." Nara said. Eldarion smiled.

"I love you, my little moonbeam."

"And I you."

Illeandir felt as if he were intruding on a private moment but soon Eldarion addressed him.

"Lee," he said. Illeandir smiled thinly at the shortened nickname. "I name you Erfaron, Lone Hunter. May your search bear fruit." Eldarion looked to Ithilwen. "Hannon le, mellon nin." Ithilwen jerked, her eyes wide. Eldarion sighed with content. "My family."

His eyes closed and he took one last breath. Eldarion, Second King of Gondor, was no more.

******************************

Another nice long chapter for you because I feel bad about not updating for a while on the last chapter.

Special thanks to GadSul and MonsterCupcake61176 for the names they gave me even though I didn't use any of them. :) Thank you for the support though!

By the way... If in the first dream Illeandir and Zaharias sound like they are one - I meant to do that.

*sigh* On to school... :/

I just might cry. I'm not ready to go back! I have a life! A reason to live!

Not anymore!

Yes thank you, Gollum. I knew that the moment marching band started.

gollum, gollum