One by one the wounded healed and left, it took only a few days for the halls to become nearly empty. Most injuries were not bad, but then, there were not that many men left to treat after the battle. Haldir still had not woken up. Every so often Aragorn or Legolas or one of the healers would come check on him or to change his bandages, but things were not looking up.

Eomer had been allowed to leave, as long as he tried to stay off his right foot and came back each day to have his broken arm check upon. Yet he stayed. With his foot wounded he could not walk, or even stand, for long periods of time. The rohirrim instead sat on one of the beds, injured leg stretched out in front of him, and papers laid out on his lap. He was kept up to date with the meetings the others were having and the plans they were making, and he tried to be at least somewhat useful in his wounded state.

"Hnnaaa!"

Eomer blinked and looked up, that was not a good sound. Another moan of pain came from across the room and he turned in that direction. It was the elf. Putting a map off to the side the man got up and hobbled to the side of the elf's bed. Though the elf lay on his stomach Eomer could see he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his hands clutched the sheets beneath him tightly. That usually was not a good thing. He glanced around the room but there was no one there, just his luck. Another pained sound came from the figure and Eomer knew he had to do something, but with only one free hand he was not much help.

Wincing slightly he limped to the door and leaned against the frame as he glanced up and down the hall outside. Again no one. Eomer looked back to the elf again, he could not just leave him there. But what was he to do? He was no healer. The man sat heavily on the bed next to the elf, who was shivering now.

Wait, Eomer paused, shivering and sweating? He leaned across the gap between the beds and placed a hand on the elf's brow. With a gasp he pulled back, the elf was burning up, he had a horrible fever. But elves did not get sick, they could not. Fumbling one handedly with the bandages, the rohirrim managed to get them far enough off he could see the wound.

The elf groaned again. Eomer stared at the gash in shock and fear. The area around it was beginning to turn a disturbing color of black, and anyone in their right mind could tell that was bad.

But he had no idea what to do, accept to find someone who did, and fast.

~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas did not look up, though he heard footsteps approaching, he knew who it was. The elven prince stood on a wall staring out at the now ruined fortress. Bellow him men were digging graves for boys as young as ten and old men. "It saddens me, Aragorn," he said with a sigh as the other reached his side, "So many lost."

The man placed a comforting hand around Legolas' shoulders, "But we did win," he stated optimistically.

The elf turned to him with a sad smile and opened his mouth to say something.

"Aragorn!"

The pair looked up abruptly and turned around. Aragorn frowned, "Eomer? What is wrong?"

Standing on one foot and leaning heavily against the wall Eomer winced slightly as he caught his breath, "'Tis the elf... In the healer's... He..." he panted and attempted to explain the situation, "It's not good."

"Haldir?" Legolas questioned worriedly, "What happened?"

"I do not know, poison I think."

"Poison?"

"Aye, in the wound." Aragorn immediately dashed off, closely followed by his elven companion. Eomer watched them go, "Right... I'll be there shortly..." he said, more to himself then to the others. He then paused for a moment, "... Ow..."

~~~~~~~~~~

Aragorn cursed aloud when he saw the gash on Haldir's back, "How could I have missed it?" he muttered, angry with himself as he identify the poison. There were few that could effect an elf this way, so that narrowed it down, but in his weakened state Haldir was more susceptible to illness. Yet Aragorn could still not figure out how the poison had gotten into the wound without his noticing.

"How bad is it?" Legolas questioned, coming up behind him.

The ranger sighed in frustration, "I cannot tell what the poison is. It must be some new concoction of Saruman's," he raked a hand through his hair, "How can I treat something when I do not know what it is?"

"You must try," urged Legolas, placing a hand on Aragorn's shoulders. The man looked over at the elf and blue eyes met grey, the ranger nodded, his face set in determination.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eomer cursed every diety he could think of for his injury. For reasons he could not even think of let alone explain the man was worried about the elf. He wanted to make sure the elf was all right, but he could not do that if he could not walk.

Limping down the halls the rohirrim winced practically every step. Dashing all about the keep was not good for an injured foot, nor was it for a broken arm.

When he finally arrived at the healer's he leaned heavily against the doorframe and looked in. Then he heard words he did not know he had been dreading, "I don't think there is any more I can do..."
 

TBC...

A/N: Oh no! Haldir's going to die! Major cliffhanger, hehehe... I feel evil. Like I said up there *points* I will be on vacation for the next 3 weeks so I probably won't work on it durring that time, thus, no updates for a long while, sorry.

Review, or no updates for an even longer amount of time!