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Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.- John 15:13

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Annalee

"My queen, you are absolutely stunning!"

"Your cheeks are so red and full of life! Just like on your wedding day."

"Oh, yes, you were certainly a blushing bride. So beautiful!"

"Are you hungry? We have pie. I will go and fetch you a piece!"

Itylra and Faraine laugh as I sit amongst a room full of common folk, blushing deeply at their praise. "Thank you all very much," I reply quietly, "But you should see yourselves and your children! You are all so beautiful."

"Thank you, my queen," Imryll, a mother of five ellith, says with a curtsey and hands folded in front of her person. "And thank you so much for the baskets of food and toys for the little ones. They are all much appreciated."

"'Twas no problem at all. I felt that, as queen, I have not been doing my duty. So, I decided to finally come and get to know my people. I truly care so deeply for you all. I wanted to give you something that might bring you joy."

"We are honored to have you here!"

A little elfling tugs on the end of my dress, staring up at me with her large brown eyes. "May I give you a kiss?"

Another elleth in the room gasps. "Ara, no! You cannot ask the queen such things!"

I laugh lightly, scooping the child into my lap. "Of course you can, little Ara."

I lean in, and she kisses my nose, giggling. The others in the room laugh warmly at the scene, and my heart melts a little. Will Arahaelon and I have a little girl just like this someday?

My heart sinks at the thought of him.

"Has anyone here heard news from the hunt?" I ask the room, wanting some piece of information.

An elleth with golden blonde hair speaks up timidly. "My father sent a letter through my brother, whom he sent home to us. Neither the letter nor my brother will explain Ada's actions. Maybe he did not think him old enough to handle himself out there."

Alarya, sitting to my left, locks eyes with me, and her worry is evident.

"Thank you," I reply, smiling. "I am sure you are right."

"Well, we should be leaving now," Alarya says to the elves in the room, and their expressions turn to sadness.

"You are more than welcome to stay!" one exclaims, along with several others.

"Thank you, but we really must go. I cannot wait to meet with you all again," I say with a genuine smile, inclining my head formally. "Enjoy your gifts."

As Alarya, Faraine, Itylra, and I walk together to the palace, I cannot stop the tears from collecting in my eyes. "Something is wrong," I state the obvious, and Alarya touches my arm comfortingly.

"I know," she replies softly, not bothering to sugar-coat it, and I am thankful to her. Pretending will only make things worse for me. "But Thranduil and my sons are wise. They will do what needs to be done."

Itylra nods, trying to be brave despite the fact that her husband is out there, too, somewhere. "Lady Alarya is right, Annalee. Things will be just fine."

The statement ends heavily, and we all know it is just a desperate lie. With my heart racing and nausea forming in the pits of my stomach, I sigh wearily. "I hope you are right. 'Tis getting late, so I think I will go to bed now. Thank you all for accompanying me today," I thank them with a smile, "I appreciate it."

"See you tomorrow," Faraine and Itylra reply, kissing my cheeks.

"Goodbye."

I watch as they head toward Lossenel's room, probably planning to stay up late talking about her new courtship with Elrohir to keep themselves occupied.

Alarya's sparkling emerald eyes meet mine, and she reaches up, patting my cheeks in a motherly fashion. "Do not be anxious. I know my husband. He would give his life to spare any of our sons', and he is too clever to be killed, himself," she soothes, giving me a small smile. "They are in safe hands."

"Thank you, Alarya," I reply, embracing her for a moment. "I will try not to be."

"Sleep well," she says, giving me one last smile before turning and disappearing into the crowd of servants rushing about.

I make my way to mine and Arahaelon's chambers, nodding to the guard standing outside of the door. "Goodnight, Tarron."

"Goodnight, my queen," he responds politely, inclining his head, and I step inside, closing the door behind me.

I glance over at Arahaelon's study, imagining him sitting there, welcoming me back into our chambers after a long day apart. I step inside, allowing my fingers to run over the desk. His familiar, looping handwriting is scrawled across dozens of pieces of parchment, and I reach out to touch the words.

"Ar," I whisper as tears fill my eyes, "Ar, if you can hear me somehow, please come back to me. Please be careful."

I collapse into his chair, finally allowing the tears to fall.

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I am awakened in the middle of the night by a voice drenched in worry and panic.

"My queen! Queen Annalee, please wake up! 'Tis an emergency!"

I open my eyes blearily, my heart already racing with anxiety. "What it is, Tarron?" I ask the young guard quickly, but I know the answer when I look into his panic-stricken brown eyes.

"King Arahaelon has been wounded, my lady. He has been calling out for you since the hunting party arrived about an hour ago," he explains breathlessly.

"Why did no one wake me?" I demand, nearly in hysterics, and I jump from the bed, grabbing my robe to cover my lacy nightgown, "Is he alright? Is my husband okay?"

He purses his lips, not replying, and tears begin to fall down my cheeks. "Follow me, my queen."

He leads me out of my chambers, and once we are out of the Family Wing, the halls are swarming with servants and guards and high-ranking elves, all wondering what will happen to the king.

As we approach the Healer's Wing, I can hear his tortured screams, and my blood feels like ice in my veins as I run faster.

"Annalee! Annalee!" he yells over and over again, "Where is my wife? Where is she?"

"Arahaelon!" I exclaim through my thick tears, entering the room behind Tarron.

Thranduil and the rest of the family, as well as Lord Elrond and the healers, look up as I enter. Tadion moves to make room for me, and I am by my husband's side in mere seconds.

"Ar, I am here, my darling," I whisper to him through my tears, and his dazed eyes meet mine as I take his fevered hand, bringing it to my lips and planting a hard kiss upon his skin.

"Annalee? Annalee, is that you?" he asks hoarsely, grimacing as another wave of pain crashes over him.

"Yes, I am here now." I am unable to continue as I begin to cry once again.

Tadion wraps an arm around me, not saying a word. The only sound in the room is the low chatter of the healers and Lord Elrond and the sound of Arahaelon repeatedly whispering my name.

Slowly, healers begin to leave the room, leaving just Lord Elrond and the family.

Elrond lowers his eyes. "Arahaelon's wound has been sealed, but the poison is very potent. I do not know if he will survive the night," he says, heaving a great sigh that seems to pain him. "If he does, then he will be in the clear and on his way to healing."

I rest my head over Ar's chest as sobs rip through my chest, and someone reaches out to stroke my hair.

"Ar is strong," Lossie says quietly through her tears, addressing no one in particular. "He will survive."

Legolas agrees softly.

"Let us leave them," Thranduil suggests wearily to the others, eyes red, "We will check on him again in a little while."

Legolas places his hand on my back for a moment. "He will be alright, Annalee. I know it. Arahaelon has pulled through things like this before. Have hope," he reassures me quietly before leaving with the others and closing the door.

A few hours pass silently with my husband sleeping deeply. Everytime I check his temperature, he is burning, and his skin is so pale that it has a very slight bluish tint to it.

Sometime in the night, he awakens from the herbal slumber the healers put him in, and I pull back, sniffling. I reach out to stroke his cheek that is burning hot to the touch, and his eyelids flutter open tiredly. His gaze swallows me, pulling me in like the very first time I ever saw him. He weakly rests his hand upon mine that lies on his blanket, no longer in a fevered daze.

"Lirimaer (Lovely one)," he whispers through labored breathing, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "I have missed you."

My expression morphs into one of anguish as I cry, leaning forward to rest my forehead against his. "I missed you, too," I choke out, and his hand touches my neck so softly, so tenderly.

"Do not cry," he commands with a shuddering breath.

I smile through the tears, laughing miserably. "You are crying, as well, Arahaelon," I point out, causing the faintest, quickest smile to cross his lips.

"I am in pain."

I watch as his eyes fall closed for a moment, and panic strangles me. After a few seconds, his eyes open once again. I take the cool, wet washcloth from the basin sitting on the bedside table, and I begin to wipe the grime from his face.

"You will be okay," I tell him like it is a fact, and he does nothing but observe me, his gaze wandering over every dip and curve and angle of my face.

He catches sight of the lace underneath my robe, and he gives me a tiny smile. "You are wearing your nightgown, just as I asked."

I laugh again, placing a kiss upon his brow that is drenched in sweat. "Is that all you can think to say in a moment such as this one?"

He frowns, eyes saddening. "You were waiting for me, and I was careless. I allowed myself to sustain injuries."

I place the cloth back in the basin and fix him with my stare. "Do not think such things."

"Come here," he begs quietly, and I move carefully, lying on his chest. His warm hands wander up my back, resting on my shoulder blades, and chills race across my skin, something that does not go unnoticed by him.

"I love you," I whisper as my tears free fall, hitting his achingly handsome face.

"I love you, Annalee," he says firmly, green eyes searching mine as he runs his fingers across my jaw. "Will you kiss me?"

I lean down, capturing his lips with my own without a second thought. I kiss him fiercely, like I never have before, yet I am careful not to hurt him. His fingers trail down my neck like the touch of a butterfly, and I cup his jaw with one hand, keeping myself stable with the other. I can taste his passion and how much he has missed me through his touch, and his hand gently guides me closer to him, deepening the kiss. The warmth rushing through our bond is like magic, healing every aching emotion inside of me and, I hope, inside of him.

When our lips part ever-so-slightly, our gazes meet and noses brush together, and his happiness is written like poetic verses in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is deep and rumbling from within his chest. "How I have missed that," he sighs, and I pepper kisses across his face, relishing in his touch. His whispers my name painfully, but it has nothing to do with his injuries this time.

"You must get better," I command, pulling back to stare at him, and I run my fingers across his beautiful hair that is caked with dirt and blood. "And you must bathe."

This causes him to smile again, but it turns into a grimace swiftly. He touches his side where a bandage is wrapped thickly around his wound, which appears to be gigantic. I trail my fingers over the bandages until they end just below his chest. He surprises me by making a low sound in the back of his throat as I move my fingers across his chest absentmindedly.

I look up, startled, and his eyes are closed, chest heaving with heavy breaths. "Do you need something? Should I get Lord Elrond?" I question him anxiously, about to stand, but he grabs my hand, placing it back on his chest.

His laugh is a short, winded breath. "Sometimes I forget how innocent you are," he mumbles, then goes to explain, "I want you. Even lying here near possible death, you still manage to drive me wild. I am pained everytime you touch me, but not in the way you would expect- not from my wound nor the poison."

My skin goes up in flames as quickly as a forest would. "Ar, do not say that," I change the subject, talking about his worsening condition. "You are going to be fine."

He twists the ring around my finger, looking sicker by the minute. "I am angry with myself for being careless," he admits, looking up to search my eyes, "I could be with you now, Annalee. Just as we both promised."

"And we will, when you are healed," I reply, still all red in the face and flustered.

His eyes reflect the cold truth that I am unable to admit or even think.

"Get some rest, Ar," I instruct. "I will be here."

He takes my hand, guiding me to him, and he places a barely-there, open-mouthed kiss on my lips, a mere brush, making me want more. I give in to him, locking our lips once more. His hands scorch my waist with their heat, pulling me as close as possible without hurting him. His touch is dizzying, and I wish more than anything for him to be okay. He cannot... he cannot leave me.

I pull back when he tries to pull me impossibly closer. "You are going to hurt yourself," I whisper against his lips, kissing him once more and then standing from the bed, and I look over my shoulder at him as I walk to the door. "Get some rest, meleth nín (my love). I will be back with Lord Elrond and Melnor, and your family wishes to see you."

He does not reply, and his sickly appearance makes me pray even harder.

Eru, please save him. Please save my husband and my king.

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A/N: Awee the love birds. This shatters my heart to write. Please forgive me! Please overlook any grammatical mistakes. It's late, and my brain is fried. I wanted to post this as soon as possible, though!