Legolas's bow clattered to the ground. Trembling fingers pressed to the hilt, trying to hold it steady.

"Legolas!" I dashed to him.

Thranduil got there first. He knelt and braced one arm around Legolas's shoulders, keen eyes assessing the damage in a glance.

Legolas sucked in a sharp, agonized breath. "W-what of Aragorn?"

I glanced over just in time to see him strike a blow that knocked Boromir's sword from his hands. Then he smashed the sword hilt into Boromir's jaw.

"Aragorn's fine," I reported, putting my hands on Legolas's shoulder.

Boromir fell, unconscious, and Aragorn stood over him, looking incredibly tempted to remove Boromir's head. Instead, he sheathed his sword and strode to us. "How bad is his injury?"

Thranduil glanced up. "We need to get him to an infirmary. He needs Elven healing immediately. Take his feet Aragorn, we can carry him."

Thunking footsteps brought Gimli closer. "How might I be of assistence? He's my friend, yeh know."

Thranduil paused. "Steady his midsection while we carry him. The less that dagger is jarred, the better."

While I stood out of the way and fretted, Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli lifted Legolas off Denethor's body. Legolas gave a cry of excruciation, which tore into my soul. My eyes rested on Aragorn's coat, which Legolas had dropped, and I ran and snatched it up. "Wait, let me wrap this around the hilt...it'll steady it more."

They held Legolas up while I gingerly wrapped the coat around the hilt. The blood staining his tunic made my gut twist, but I forced a tight smile when I met his gaze. "You're going to be fine. I'll never be far, don't worry."

Legolas gave me a faint nod, his ivory skin already pallid with sweat.

Thranduil began walking backwards toward the long, winding path, and Aragorn and Gimli followed his example.

"Wait," Èowyn called. "Take him into the throne room. It looks like the city's inner keep...if that's true, it'll have a store of medical supplies."

After a short hesitation, Thranduil nodded. No one said it, but if all this boiled down to a civil war, our little party might need a stronghold while the Elf and Dwarf army subdued the uprising.

I desperately hoped it didn't come to that.

Èomer silently walked to where Boromir lay and slung the Steward's son across his shoulders like a sack of grain. Then he, Èowyn, Dwalin, and the wide-eyed rascals followed us into the throne room.

None of the Gondorians made any move to stop us, but I didn't dare breathe evenly until we'd gotten the doors shut and bolted.

I helped Èowyn search for supplies while the Hobbits quickly cleared a meal off the table situated in front of the Steward's seat. More like dumped it on the floor as Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli carried Legolas in that direction. As they set him down, Èowyn carefully took his bow and removed his quiver, and I used my hands to pillow his head.

Thranduil shrugged off his cape, letting it flow to the ground, then he carefully removed Aragorn's coat from around the blade. "We have to get his tunic out of the way before we remove the knife. The moment the blade leaves his flesh, the wound will start pumping blood, so we'll need immediate pressure." His eyes flicked to Dwalin, and a flash of wariness crossed his features. "Master Dwarf, you have the bearing of someone that's seen a great deal of war."

Dwalin crossed his arms. "Aye. And I've treated my fair share of nasty wounds. But if ye want my help, ye'll have to trust me."

Thranduil hesitated for a millisecond, then nodded. "Ready a bandage, Master Dwarf. Eda, I need you to hold Legolas's shoulders down. This will be excruciating for him, but if he moves, he will hurt himself more."

I nodded and laid Legolas's head on the table, leaning down to kiss his sweaty brow. His wide, pain-filled gaze met mine as I straightened and placed my hands on his shoulders. Aragorn gripped Legolas's knees and pinned them down. Meanwhile, Èowyn handed Dwalin a tablecloth, and he began tearing it into strips.

Thranduil gripped Legolas's tunic and ripped it apart, leaving his ribcage bare and bloody. The sight of the blade embedded in my husband's body made my stomach heave.

Legolas raised a trembling hand to touch my cheek. "Look into my eyes, Eda. You needn't see this."

I obeyed, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on Legolas's. Even as Thranduil pulled the dagger free and Dwalin put heavy pressure on the wound, and Legolas writhed in agony, I refused to look again at the damage done.

Thranduil withdrew and began to pace around us, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his fingertips into his temples.

Legolas's eyes slid shut.

"Legolas!" I cried, shaking his shoulders.

Aragorn gripped my shoulders and pulled me away, despite my struggle. "Stop," he whispered in my ear. "King Thranduil has to establish contact with Legolas's feä in order to start healing him, and that takes concentration from them both."

Tears of anxiety fill my eyes, and I put a hand over my mouth to keep from making any distracting noises. Aragorn rubbed my shoulders, and I realized how selfish I was being. He was just as worried as I was—he'd known Legolas far longer than I had, and loved him just as much, though in a different way. Yet Aragorn was being strong, keeping faith in his friend to pull through.

With that in mind, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, purposing to be strong also. As I did, I felt something within me stir, as though someone had skimmed their fingers over the liquid surface of my spirit.

Thranduil frowned and paused his pacing, eyes opening and flicking to me. He gave me a subtle nod, then closed his eyes again and continued walking. He must've somehow found some link between Legolas's spirit and mine.

A long minute passed, then Thranduil hummed a few notes under his breath. He wetted his lips, then began singing quietly in Elvish. Though his voice had a chillingly beautiful quality, listening felt like an intrusion on a private moment, though I couldn't understand the words—he spoke with an inflection, or perhaps a dialect I wasn't familiar with.

Legolas began visibly relaxing. His breaths evened, and his eyelashes fluttered at infrequent intervals.

This stretched on for long minutes. After perhaps half an hour, Dwalin pulled back the bandage a few inches to check the wound. "The bleeding's nearly stopped," he murmured under his breath, careful not to disturb Thranduil's haunting melody. "Gimli, if ye'll help me, we'll get him bandaged proper."

Aragorn darted forward to help also. They gently lifted Legolas's shoulders off the table and wrapped thick strips of fabric around his waist, securing the ends when they finished. Then they laid him back down and backed away.

After a while, the hobbits drifted off to inspect the throne—not the Steward's seat, the massive, imposing, carved monstrosity Aragorn was meant to fill. No one scolded them. Èowyn walked over to where Èomer stood over a tied Boromir, and they whispered back and forth. Dwalin went to the doors to peek out, and Gimli followed him. Gandalf's pale eyes flicked between Thranduil and Legolas, but he did nothing more. Aragorn led me over to a nearby bench, and I stayed with him there.

Finally, Thranduil stopped singing and rubbed his eyes with his long, pale fingers. "He is well on his path to recovery," he announced. "I fear I need rest, however. Are we safe from the mortals outside?"

Dwalin looked at Thranduil and crossed his arms. "They don't look eager to raid the keep...but I wouldn't be either. We won't know their minds until we ask."

I stood and walked closer to the conversation. "Then let's find out. I'll stay with Legolas in here, and if things get bad, I'll defend him. But most of us should probably go out to talk to them."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, I think King Thranduil should remain with Legolas. He'll be a better last defense, and I need you to represent the Elf-Dwarf alliance."

Thranduil glanced at Aragorn and nodded. "Agreed. Better they didn't see me wearied."

I didn't want to, but I nodded. They would know best.

The hobbits exchanged a glance, then Pippin quickly hopped down, walked to Thranduil, and stopped in front of him, craning his neck to peer up the ElvenKing's imposing height. "If you'll permit me, King Thranduil...I should like to remain here with you and aid in protecting both yourself and Legolas."

Merry gawped at his friend from across the room.

Thranduil gazed at Pippin for a long moment, facial lines softening to warm amusement. Bending at the waist, he braced hands on knees to even their height a bit. "You are a very brave Halfling," he said, not a trace of unkindness to his tone. "And I am grateful for your offer. However, I should like a chance to speak alone with my son."

Pippin's shoulders tensed when Thranduil first bent down, relaxing as he began to speak, then squared. "Should you ever wish my aid, my lord, you need only ask."

At this, a tired smile stretched Thranduil's lips. "Of that, I am confident."

Aragorn cleared his throat. "In that case, everybody prepare for a confrontation. With any luck, a unified front will convince them to listen."

I walked over to where Èomer had set Legolas's bow and arrows, and I strapped on the quiver. "Then a unified front we will be. Lead the way, King Aragorn."

He sent me a somewhat-disapproving frown, but he squared his shoulders and strode toward the doors.

We flanked Aragorn. Dwalin and Gimli manned the doors, and after we had walked through, they left the door open, but held their axes at the ready. A few strides out, Aragorn halted, and we followed his example. "Can we have your word for a truce?"

The Gondorians, who had clustered into a tight knot for discussion, took a good look at our ready stance. They murmured amongst themselves, then one aging man with silver, shoulder-length hair stepped forward. "I am the captain of the guard, and I will represent Gondor's army. We will not raise arms against you while we negotiate terms."

"Terms?" Merry's fingers tightened around his sword hilt. "Your Steward is dead, and his heir is our prisoner. A massive army of Elves and Dwarves sits on your crumbling doorstep and need only walk in to overcome what weakened army you have left. And you want to negotiate terms?"

Aragorn placed a hand on Merry's shoulder and squeezed. "Silence." His tone was gentle, but unyielding. To the men, he said, "Noble soldiers of Gondor, I do not wish to take your city by force. Indeed, for me to do so could be to doom us all, for we need your valiant aid to overcome Mordor. Be assured that no harm will come to Boromir. He was faithful to his father's cause. A just repercussion for his actions will be decided upon after Mordor's fall."

The Gondor ambassador nodded slowly. "What of this army of Elves and Dwarves? Why have you brought such force to our doorstep?"

Aragorn beckoned me forward. "This is Queen Amariel of Erebor. She and her husband, Prince Legolas, who was injured, have formed an alliance of Elves and Dwarves for the purpose of attacking Mordor...and protecting Gondor." He paused. "Have you anything to add, Queen Amariel?"

I took a deep breath and released it. "What Aragorn has said is true. My husband and I did not bring our forces here to harm Men. Our wish is that the Men of Gondor would join our alliance against Mordor, as the Men of Rohan did. This massive alliance would be headed by none other than Aragorn—your rightful King."

Gondor's ambassador frowned. "What assurances can you make to Gondor, should we agree to accept your legitimacy as King?"

Aragorn took a moment to consider. "I will take the throne in order to serve and protect Gondor first, our allies second, and myself third. I can make no other assurances until the war is won."

The man nodded. "I must convene with my men."

Aragorn nodded also. "And I with mine."

But when we huddled up for political troubleshooting, we did so outside, acutely aware that Thranduil wanted time alone with Legolas.

***Author's Note***

Happy Monday!...oh who am I kidding...but I hope this brightens the beginning of your weeks a little. :)

But it gets better! I just published a place for us to gather as a community, have fun, share jokes, chat... post random LotR things... and whatever else we feel like doing. Check it out if you want to! It's called The TSW Party.

As always guys, expect another chapter next Monday. Have a great week, and a superb 4th of July!!