Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds

Ch. 16: Enlightenment


Hours had passed since Elrond, Cylene, the healer from Mirkwood, and Aaric, the healer from Lórien had entered the healing chamber. Those closest to the prince – his father, his brothers and his lover – waited impatiently outside the doorway. Friends of the prince, and others who had ties to any of the three, elvish, royal families also made their presence known by crowding into the corridor in hopeful support of their loved ones.

Elladan wasn’t surprised to see Elrohir, but he was a bit taken aback when Arwen came and hugged him. The last time he had seen her, they had a fairly sizeable altercation. None of that seemed to matter now, though. The only thing of concern was Legolas and what their father, and the other healers discovered.

Thranduil paced up and down the corridor, playing with his hands nervously. He didn’t utter one word to his other sons, who stayed huddled together, looking more forlorn than ever. The only ray of hope in the midst of all the depression was Tialise. She bounced about continuously, making sure to check on her beau, Dace, while also attending to others’ needs.

Celeborn and Glorfindel stood near each other but did not speak. Instead, they seemed content to watch Thranduil’s agitated movements while they brooded in silence.

No words were exchanged between Elladan and Haldir when the Lórien marchwarden entered the hallway. He simply took his place beside Elladan and waited quietly.

Upon seeing the chief marchwarden, Celeborn made his way through the corridor and placed his hand on Haldir’s shoulder. Although, he did not know all the details of what had happened in the forest the day before, he was very glad that Haldir was unharmed.

Word had spread throughout Rivendell about the prince’s strange illness. Scores of curious onlookers waited on the front lawns of the adjacent manors, hoping to learn more about Legolas’ condition. Some brazen, young elves attempted to enter the manor unnoticed. However, guards had been posted at every entranceway, at the request of King Thranduil. Thus, no one was allowed to enter the manor without his, Elrond, Celeborn or Glorfindel’s expressed permission.

The king walked the length of the corridor and then stopped abruptly. He noticed a small chamber to his right and decided to enter. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. The room was only partially furnished, having only a dresser against the westernmost wall, and a settee that sat directly in front of a window that looked to the east. Thranduil found himself looking out the window, trying to gain control of what little calmness he had left. The thought that he could lose his youngest son was unbearable. He simply could not comprehend the idea of a life without one of his sons.

Thranduil tore himself from the window and began to pace the room. He was so conflicted. He struggled with feelings of complete sadness and the emotions of rage. *If there is anyone to blame for this, it was the foolish, man-elf, Elladan.* The king was convinced that Elladan had told Legolas not to reveal his pain. He wanted to throttle Elladan within an inch of his life and then throttle him again. Thranduil kicked the dresser as hard as he could, ignoring the fact that the sound reverberated loudly in the nearly empty chamber. No sooner had the king stilled the swaying dresser, Elladan appeared.

“Is everything alright in here? I heard a loud noise.”

“Perhaps it is the body of my son collapsing to the floor. Maybe the dreams have come to haunt him once again during the light of day,” the king said icily.

Elladan stared at Thranduil in horror and in anger. “How could you be so crass? Legolas is your youngest son. Have you no decency?”

The king set his jaw, and stalked toward Elladan, red-faced. “How could you know about the return of Legolas’ nightmares and not tell me?” he hissed. “He could have died. Do you not understand? I sent Legolas here so many months ago because of these dreams… and now it has all gone to ruin because you, for once, would not open your enlarged orifice!”

Elladan’s mouth fell open for a moment, but being the quick-witted elf that he was, he was able to recover quickly from the king’s verbal attack and retaliate. “You scold me, when you were casting Legolas scornful and disapproving glances only hours ago? I know that the honor of Mirkwood and all its glory rests on the shoulders of your good name and the facades of perfection that your sons would try to portray. But could you not wait until he was unconscious before you probed him with your accusatory eyes?” Elladan regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but the damage had already been done.

“How dare you!” Thranduil exclaimed. “Who do you think you are … that you can address me in such a manner? You are nothing but a simpleton in the presence of a demigod. You should be on your knees before me… you half-human, half-witted fool! Do not forget that I alone hold the key to your happiness with my son. If I were to simply utter the words, your plans to marry him would be dismissed. I will not tolerate your cheek, child! It is bad enough that your refusal to listen to your sister about her friendship with me was ignored. And do you know what that cost me? Do you? I was hauled into this manor and interrogated… like a criminal by your father and grandfather. You nearly destroyed our friendship. Thank the Valar for Arwen, who was there to explain away your misgivings. And as far as my son is concerned… and the expression of ill that you described… it is not one of anger, but one of woe. For Legolas to keep such a thing from me… I can only assume that it was your influence on him. So, allow me to make myself perfectly clear… you may be the best swordsmaster in all three realms, but I can break you, boy. Do you understand me? Now, get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness, lest I leave this room and take your heart with me.”

Elladan sank to his knees without hesitation and bowed his head. “I… I am sorry, Sire…”

“That is the first honest thing that you have said recently,” Thranduil commented coolly.

Elladan continued to grovel on the floor, completely ignoring the fact that Haldir, Dace, Makail, Orophin, Rúmil and Elrohir had heard the yelling and had entered the chamber.

“Father?” Makail asked, concerned, looking from the king to Elladan.

Thranduil glared at Makail and Dace and folded his arms across his chest. “The two of you should be on the floor before me, too. If you knew your brother was ill, you should have told me.”

“But we did not know,” Dace said honestly.

“You didn’t?” Thranduil asked, looking deep into Dace and Makail’s eyes for any sign of deceit. When he saw no lies in his sons’ eyes he turned to Elladan, who was still kneeling on the floor. “So, you acted alone in your treachery?”

Haldir held his breath. He had also known about the prince’s illness but had never come forward. Until this very moment, the marchwarden had considered this to be one of the best days of his life. He had finally gotten to be alone with Glorfindel, but the pleasant memories were about to be replaced with King Thranduil’s wrath.

“Aye, I am the only one who knew about Legolas’ condition,” Elladan said.

Haldir’s mouth fell open in disbelief. He was surprised that Elladan would lie for him, especially because the two of them spent more time arguing than agreeing. Still, he would not allow Elladan to suffer alone.

Thranduil glared at Elladan. “Should my son die, I hope you understand that his blood will be on your hands.”

“It will not be on his hands alone,” Haldir heard himself say. The marchwarden stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Sire, I, too, knew about Legolas’ dreams. He did not confide in me, I simply discovered him in a bad way one night after what seemed to be a nightmare. He also… saved my life…”

Thranduil sighed but did not stop Haldir from speaking. He wanted to hear the marchwarden’s account of yesterday’s events.

“He had… what appeared to be a waking dream… just after the forms competition,” Haldir explained. I was standing under an enormous tree when one of the limbs was struck by lightening. It crashed to the ground where I had been standing… only… Legolas pushed me out of the way moments before the limb fell. I owe him my life, Sire.” Haldir got on his knees beside Elladan. “I should be punished, too.”

Elladan was shocked by Haldir’s words and actions, as the two of them were not exactly friends. He was grateful, however, not to have to endure the king’s wrath single-handedly. He smiled in appreciation at Haldir but the marchwarden seemed to have more to say.

“Sire, you should also know that Elladan told Legolas to speak to you about his fading condition,” Haldir continued. “The prince refused, believing that you would see his illness as weakness and send him back to Mirkwood. The only reason Legolas came forth was when Elladan swore to tell you if he did not.”

Thranduil could feel his anger fading. It was replaced with hurt and guilt. He sighed and shook his head. He did not know Haldir well but knew that the chief marchwarden of Lórien would not lie to him. “Elladan?”

“Aye, Sire?”

“Legolas… he… he did not want to tell me?”

“Nay,” Elladan said quietly.

“And, if he had refused to come forth… would you have told me?”

“Aye, Sire,” Elladan responded sincerely.

Thranduil nodded slowly. He thought that Elladan was a fool, but he knew the dark-haired warrior loved Legolas and would never lie about something so serious. “You may stand,” he said to the kneeling warriors.

Elladan and Haldir rose to their feet just as Elrond entered the room.

“Thranduil?”

“Aye?” the king responded anxiously. “Legolas… is he alright? What… what has happened to him?”

“I would like to speak to you about the prince’s condition privately, please,” Elrond said.

“May Makail and Dace accompany me as well?” Thranduil asked.

“You may include anyone you wish,” Elrond said.

“Makail… Dace… I… I would like you to join me,” Thranduil stammered, suddenly feeling the weight of his guilt. “It is not an order,” the king added quickly, “it is only a request.”

“Of course we will come,” Makail said while Dace nodded.

Elladan hung his head when the king and his two sons started to leave the chamber until he heard his name being called.

“Elladan?”

“Aye?”

“Would you like to join us?” Thranduil asked.

“Very much,” Elladan said.

“Come,” Thranduil said.

Elladan stared into the king’s eyes for only a moment before they headed out of the chamber and walked hurriedly toward the healing room. He could have sworn that he saw a glint of approval and maybe even a morsel of respect embedded in the king’s eyes.

When they entered the chamber Legolas was not in the room.

“We took the prince to the adjacent resting room,” Elrond said, answering the question before it was voiced. “Aaric and Cylene are in the room with him just in case he has another troubling dream.

“What… what ails my youngest son?” Thranduil asked. “Please do not keep us in suspense any longer.”

“Very well,” Elrond said. “Legolas is possessed.”

“Possessed?” Thranduil asked in shock.

Elladan, Dace and Makail exchanged alarmed glances.

“Aye,” Elrond said.

“What do you mean he is possessed?” Thranduil asked. “An elf cannot be possessed; it is a human affliction.”

“And yet… he is possessed,” Elrond said slowly. “We could not determine who, what, when, where or why… but something has a hold on the prince. From our examination, we determined that a powerful spell was cast on Legolas. Whoever did this to him selected him specifically… meaning that this was no accident. Legolas was chosen to be possessed.”

“Why?” Thranduil asked.

“Because Legolas is unique,” Elrond explained. “His ability to communicate with animals is much stronger than that of a normal elf. He is gifted. Whoever or whatever has possessed him knew about Legolas’ ability. Thus, it attached itself – its essence – to Legolas’ power, which is why it has increased… as well as his bad dreams.”

“Can you remove the spell?” Thranduil asked.

“Nay,” Elrond said. “This magic is far beyond any of our powers. And in all honesty, we are fearful of even attempting to remove the spell, as it could kill Legolas. The only one who may be able to assist us is Galadriel. Like Legolas, she is gifted. She is also very old, very powerful and very wise; she will know what to do.”

“So… you want to summon her?” Thranduil asked.

“Aye,” Elrond responded, nodding. “With your permission, Celeborn and I will assemble a small band of warriors to set out for Lórien. Their journey to and from the Golden Realm will be long… it may be at least a month before they return to Rivendell. I believe, however, that this will be the best way.”

Thranduil nodded. “Very well, you have my permission to send for her.” The king paused before speaking again. “Elrond… can this… this entity see through Legolas’ eyes? That is to say, can the being that possessed him hear what we say and see what we do?”

“Nay,” Elrond said. “Whatever possessed Legolas seems to be trying to communicate with him through his unique ability. Of course, our biggest concern right now is that Legolas must learn how to control the new powers he has acquired. If not, I fear his suffering will only increase over time.”

Dace gasped audibly and Makail clutched his chest in alarm.

Elladan wrung his hands nervously partly from concern about Legolas and because a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him about the events that had occurred the previous summer and the orc’s warning.

“We can help Legolas to gain control of his visions and we can try to prevent his nightmares,” Elrond said with confidence. “Herbs can be used to restore the mind and to facilitate dreamless nights to a certain extent but the entity will need to be removed from Legolas eventually.”

“What will happen if the entity cannot be removed?” Thranduil asked. “What will happen if Lady Galadriel cannot help my son?”

“He will die,” Elrond said gravely.

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The hours passed slowly in the resting chamber, but no one spoke as the prince’s family members and Elladan waited patiently for Legolas to awaken.

Elladan looked around the small room and shuddered. It seemed like a cell with too many people crammed inside. His mind wandered to a time long past when he and Elrohir were mere boys and had been playing in one of the courtyards. In jest, Elrohir shoved him roughly and he fell to the ground and landed headfirst onto a large rock. He remembered his father carrying him to the healing chamber and his mother wiping away his tears. His father had let him sleep in the resting room, fearing that he would try to exact a playful revenge on Elrohir, which he would have, of course. So, he slept in this very room, surrounded by his mother’s love. She teased him mercilessly, which he loved; she always knew how to make him smile – how to comfort him. Now, looking around the room, it seemed so unfamiliar, so dark and cold.

The healing room had four resting rooms, which were usually used for severely injured patients. Elladan had always thought of these chambers as being comfy, even though they were sparse. They only had the bare essentials: a bed with nightstands on each side, a small table at the foot of the bed and four small but comfortable chairs. Each room had a window so that the wounded party could enjoy a cool evening’s breeze or the gentle caress of the morning sun.

Elladan’s mind took him to another place. He remembered when he and Elrohir had brought their mother home from the orc dens. He remembered staying with her in one of the resting room that was in the farthest corner of the healing chamber – a place that he, nor any others in his family had ever ventured since Celebrían’s departure. He remembered watching her agony. Her physical pain paled to that of her mental and emotional state, however. Her terror filled eyes and violent nightmares still haunted Elladan. He had never seen his mother cry… not until after what the orcs had done to her. The sound of her laughter had been forever replaced with the sound of her crying. And now this… the same thing was happening to Legolas – to another one he loved. He failed his mother, but he would not fail again.

The young prince stirred suddenly and looked around the room. “Father?” he said weakly.

“Aye, Legolas, I am here,” Thranduil rushed to his youngest son’s side and placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder affectionately.

Makail poured some water in a cup and handed it to his father.

Thranduil helped Legolas to take a drink before placing the cup on the nearby nightstand. “Legolas… Legolas… how are you feeling?”

“I am fine, Father,” the prince responded, smiling faintly.

Suddenly, Elladan felt as though he was intruding. Legolas needed to be alone with his family, now. The two of them could talk later. Quietly, he exited the resting room and made himself comfortable in the healing chamber.

Again, time crept by. Elladan was left alone with his thoughts – his fears. He knew that he and Elrohir were responsible for this and he knew he had to stop it.

“Elladan?”

Elladan met the king’s eyes, taken aback by his sudden appearance. He tried to regain his composure, though, by trying to smile away the worry in his heart. “Aye, Sire.”

“Legolas is asking for you,” Thranduil said.

“Oh,” Elladan mumbled absently.

“Thank-you for allowing Makail, Dace and me some time alone with Legolas. But it is your turn, now.”

“Thank-you, Sire,” Elladan said, bowing politely.

Thranduil nodded. “Tell Legolas that we will return a bit later.”

“I will.”

Thranduil nodded his head once again and ushered his sons out of the room.

Elladan entered the resting chamber and was surprised to see a weak but alert prince sitting up in bed.

“Elladan,” Legolas said slowly.

Elladan sat on the bed, as close to the prince as possible and embraced him. “I have been so worried.”

Legolas did not return the embrace. Instead, he sat stiffly, like a statue.

Elladan released the prince and stared at his saddened face. “What’s wrong?”

Legolas hesitated before answering Elladan’s question, as though he was trying to formulate the words carefully in his mind before speaking. “Have you spoken to your father or any of the other healers about my condition?”

“Aye.”

“So… you know, then… about… about my illness?”

“I do.”

Legolas nodded slowly and stroked Elladan’s cheek gently. He let his hand slide downward slowly until his fingers reached the collar of Elladan’s undertunic. He tugged lightly at the necklace he had given to his lover so many months before and fingered the lovely blue stone that acted as the seal to their engagement. “Elladan…” the prince began softly, “I… I am not certain that we should get married.”

“What?” Elladan asked, searching the prince’s eyes.

“I… I could die,” Legolas stammered. “I cannot do that to you or your family. I cannot allow your heart to be so intertwined with mine when the shadow of death threatens to take me. I love you too much to do that to you. It would be better if you just tried to forget me.” The prince looked down at the bedcovers, awaiting the sting of Elladan’s rejection.

Elladan cupped the prince’s chin, lifting it gently. “Do you think my love so shallow that I could abandon you at the first sight of difficulty? I think not, fair prince. And as for my heart… it is already so ensnared with yours that even a severance of our promise to be wed would not quiet the beating of my heart when you are near. You are asking me to do the impossible… you are acting as though removing this necklace will somehow erase my memory of you… of my love for you. This,” Elladan continued as he touched the necklace, “is only a symbol of our promise to one another. But with or without this emblem… my love will hold ever on. I could never stop loving you, Legolas… not even at your request. My heart, soul and body are yours forever. I will cherish you until the end of time. And should such a day come… that you would pass from this earth… and that my heart would somehow survive the blow, I will never, ever love again. My heart will be akin to the sky above… it will go on forever, untouched for all eternity.”

Tears rolled down Legolas’ face. He collapsed into Elladan’s arms and wept until he reached a new level of weakness. Mental and physical fatigue wrung him like a wet cloth, draining all emotion from his being. He felt foolish for behaving this way, for weeping like a child, but the events of late were more than he thought he could handle. He knew he was going to die. Through his tears he wondered what would become of his father and brothers when he was taken from this world. What would happen to Elladan? He felt as though his mind was breaking and so was the world around him. His being was riddled with rage and sorrow at the same time. He hated himself and he hated his gift. He wanted to reach into his being and destroy the entity that had done this to him… to the ones he loved… the ones who would have to watch him die. The prince pushed Elladan away. He stood uneasily and kicked one of the nightstands over. He threw himself against the wall as hard as he could, deciding that he would kill the thing inside him, even if he would die in the process. Legolas tore at his clothes but could do no more as his body gave way to his utter exhaustion. He sunk to the floor sobbing and trembling.

Elladan sat beside the prince and pulled him close. He heard Thranduil enter the room but did not care. His concern was Legolas now and he decided then and there that Thranduil’s opinion of him no longer mattered. He would love Legolas and take care of him in his own way, whether the King of Mirkwood approved or not.

Thranduil had never seen anything quite like his son, and the sight before him was frightening. The king had always considered Legolas to be one of his stronger sons, both mentally and physically. Joren, the crown prince, always possessed the most clarity of mind and the greatest leadership skills. But Legolas was elegant, intelligent and a highly skilled warrior. He always remained poised in battle, was slow to show signs of weakness, and had a shrewd ability to judge the character of everyone he met. The king did not think that Legolas’ current state made him weak. On the contrary, the king believed that the young prince’s ailment must be quite severe for him to behave in such a way. Thranduil had a great deal of respect for Legolas, and although he had questioned Legolas’ most current choice of a bed-partner, the king could now see why his youngest son wanted to be with Elladan. Despite the fool-elf’s immature conduct, he clearly possessed another side.

Legolas was so weak and forlorn that he did not realize his father had entered the resting chamber. And Elladan was sure to ignore the king’s presence. He knew how proud Legolas was and also knew that the prince would behave differently if he knew his father was near. Elladan believed that a farce on Legolas’ part would only delay and possibly worsen his inevitable breakdown. Elladan knew that Legolas would have to come to terms with all that had happened so he could fight it and he was determined to help him any way he could. Elladan knew what he had to do; he knew this wasn’t really Legolas’ fight but his, and he would sacrifice his own life before he would let the events of the summer claim the one who mattered most to him. He noticed the bruises on the prince’s arms and handsome face and had to still the rage in his heart. He felt ill when he thought about Legolas’ invisible attacker and made a silent promise to make the one who hurt his lover pay ever so dearly.

“I can’t…” Legolas said between sobs. “I… I… can’t…”

“Shh…” Elladan said, cradling the prince in his arms. “Don’t think about anything. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Alright, Greenleaf?”

“Al… alright.”

Elladan began to sing. His voice was as smooth as marble and as rich as the sweet dessert cream made by the Lórien elves. He sang a song that his mother had taught him many years ago. The melody spoke of the heavens and how every star mirrored a fragment of his love. Elladan sung and sung until Legolas’ tears ceased and his head slumped in fatigue against the Rivendell warrior’s chest.

Thranduil watched silently as Elladan scooped Legolas’ up in his arms and laid him on the bed. Carefully, he pulled the blankets up over the prince’s body.

The king quietly righted the overturned nightstand and watched as Elladan tucked his son in the same fashion Areen used to when Legolas was a child. Thranduil met Elladan’s eyes and spoke in a soft voice. “You have endured much on your own, haven’t you?”

Elladan nodded slowly.

“I misjudged you, Elladan. You are stronger than I thought.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

“You have been here all day without time to rest or eat. Are you hungry?”

“Aye,” Elladan admitted.

“Go and tend to your needs. I will watch Legolas now.”

Elladan nodded numbly, feeling as though he had been dismissed.

“As soon as you have eaten and had some time to yourself, return to this room,” Thranduil offered politely. “I will take my leave then.”

“You… you are going to leave?” Elladan asked, bewildered.

“Aye,” Thranduil said. “You are a better caregiver than I in this instance. I trust you with the life of my son. It is clear to me now that you love him… deeply. And while I am very concerned for Legolas, I also fear for my other sons. They are quite distressed about all of this and they need me, too. I will visit Legolas everyday, of course, but if you could stay with him, I would be indebted to you.”

“I will stay with Legolas as you have requested but you owe me nothing. Your son’s hand in marriage outweighs anything that anyone could ever give to me.”

Thranduil smiled. “Very well. I will care for Legolas in your absence.”

“I will return soon.”

Thranduil nodded and watched as Elladan exited the room.

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Elladan made his way out of his father’s healing chamber and down the long corridor. He ignored any curious stares from nosy or concerned onlookers by rushing to his bedchamber. He was not surprised to find Elrohir waiting for him.

“How is Legolas?”

“Not well,” Elladan said. He avoided his twin’s eyes and averted his attention to a small cart that bore a basket of fresh bread and several covered trays. Elladan removed one of the lids and ate a small piece of sliced, smoked meat before uncovering a platter filled with cheese and another overflowing with fruit and vegetables. Elladan busied himself by eating, never looking in his brother’s eyes.

“Tell me, Elladan,” Elrohir said from where he was sitting. “Tell me what you are thinking.”

“I do not know what you mean,” Elladan lied.

“Ha!” Elrohir exclaimed. “I know you better than anyone. I can see right through your falsehoods.”

Elladan shrugged in mock indifference but Elrohir could sense his brother’s despair. He softened his tone before addressing his brother again. “I spoke with Dace a bit earlier. He told me about Legolas’ condition.”

Elladan looked at Elrohir for a moment before continuing to eat.

“Elladan… Elladan… I am so sorry. What can I do to help you through this?”

“You can accompany me to Gaidon once Legolas is feeling better,” Elladan said simply.

“What? Why?”

“Because I am going to find the one responsible for my Greenleaf’s suffering and kill him. The men we met in Gaidon… they were the Northern Dúnedain. I have heard that they sometimes track and kill orcs. Perhaps they will know where we can start our search. If not, we can set out on our own. That orc… the one that threatened me… he is the one I want to find.”

Elrohir hesitated before speaking. “I do not think what happened last summer has anything to do with Legolas’ current condition. It is a coincidence.”

“It is not!” Elladan shouted, knocking one of the lids onto the floor. “If Legolas dies then I killed him and that orc has won. I do not know how he did it, but he told the truth. He swore to kill me and he will do it by killing my prince. I will not lose another to him! Do you understand me! I will not let someone else I love die because of him!”

“Elladan,” Elrohir said in a gentle voice, “please be calm.”

“I will not!” Elladan screamed. “When I find that orc… and I will know him in an instant… I will tear his heart out with my bear hands. I promise that he will suffer for all he has done.”

“Elladan,” Elrohir said firmly, “I will not let you do this. Pursuing this is suicide.”

“Then I will die defending the one I love,” Elladan said, stalking out of the room.

Elrohir stared at the floor in defeat before realizing that there was someone who may be able to help him. With his confidence suddenly restored, he set out in pursuit of his former fiancé, Ellaria. Although her rejection was very likely, aside from Elladan, Ellaria was the only one who knew every detail of the summer’s events. And even though her knowledge of these events was responsible for their separation, she was Elrohir’s only hope.

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Legolas stirred and sat up abruptly, looking around the small chamber for Elladan.

“Legolas?” Thranduil said, concerned by his son’s sudden actions.

Legolas flinched, startled, he had not expected to see his father. “Oh… hello, Father,” he stammered. “I… I was looking for Elladan.”

“He will return soon. He just went to get something to eat,” Thranduil said reassuringly.

“Oh…” Legolas said, sitting up in the bed and leaning back against his pillows and staring at the ceiling.

A bout of silence passed between father and son – each of them feeling more than a bit uncomfortable for differing reasons. At long last, Legolas broke the silence.

“I… I am sorry for all of the embarrassment I have caused you, Father. I never meant to bring shame upon you, my family… or our realm. I saw the disapproval and disappointment in your eyes earlier. So… so… I… I shall return to Mirkwood as soon as I am able to…”

“Say nothing more,” Thranduil said, interrupting the prince. “Legolas… Legolas, the look you saw on my face was not one of disapproval or disappointment in you. I was and am disappointed with myself.” Thranduil looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting Legolas’ eyes. “Being here in Rivendell has been… well… humbling for me.”

Legolas’ eyes momentarily widened in curiosity. He wondered what his father’s words meant.
“I have had a great deal of time to myself and have been able to think about things,” Thranduil continued. “I have always been hard on you… on all of my sons. But I have done so for a reason. I have wanted to make you strong. And, truth be told, I believe that your mother and I have done a fine job. All four of you have made me very proud. But… but my pride means nothing if you will not tell me when you are ill. I know that I am slow to share my feelings with you… but…”

Legolas smiled sincerely. He could see the love within his father’s eyes. “I know.”

“I would never punish you for this… I would never send you away for something that you cannot control. You have not shamed me. I only wish you would have told me…”

“I am sorry, Father,” Legolas said. “I did not want to fail you by appearing weak to our competition adversaries.”

“Do not concern yourself with that now,” Thranduil said gently.

“So, when will the archery competition take place?” Legolas asked, changing the subject. “Will it still be held in a couple of days?”

“Nay,” Thranduil responded. “The competition has been postponed. So much has happened recently… I think everyone needs to rest. The archery competition will take place five days from now. Perhaps you will feel well enough to watch it by then.”

*Watch it?* Legolas started to protest, but remained silent.

Before the conversation could continue further, Elrond entered the room. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Legolas and Thranduil chorused.

Thranduil felt his heart catch in his chest upon seeing Elrond but kept his composure.

“How are you feeling?” Elrond asked, looking at the prince’s bruised and pallid face skeptically.

“I feel a bit weak… and very, very tired,” Legolas admitted.

Elrond nodded. “Extreme fatigue is a good sign. It means the herbs are working to restore your vitality but you must rest, Legolas. You do not have to fear having fell dreams… the herbs that have been administered to you are very potent. When you sleep, you will not dream. This remedy is short-term, however, as dreams are the foundation of reality… they are necessary. On the other hand, we must gain control of your visions. Aaric, the healer from Lórien, knows a great deal about intuitive gifts such as your own and Galadriel’s. As such, he has concocted a potion that should calm the intensity of your visions.” Elrond presented a small, glass bottle to Legolas. The container was filled with a transparent, purple liquid and had a tiny cork in it. “Drink a small amount of this once a day,” Elrond instructed. “Go ahead,” he encouraged, “take a small sip now.”

The prince obeyed Elrond by drinking a small amount of the remedy. He braced himself just in case the brew was foul tasting, but was pleasantly surprised by the delicate sweetness of the medicine.

“Its effects should be immediate. According to Aaric, this will make your waking dreams… your visions less intense. It will not prevent them, however. He also warned that your visions may change… I am not sure how, exactly… I am sorry to be relaying Aaric’s instructions to you… and that he is not here himself to speak to you. He was unable to come speak to you himself because a young warrior from Lórien was injured when practicing for the upcoming archery competition.”

Legolas smirked inwardly. *Amateur.*

“Are you hungry? Would you like something from the kitchen?” Elrond asked.

“Nay,” Legolas said. “I am just tired.”

“Very well. I will leave you to rest. If you have any questions or need anything, feel free to summon me at once,” Elrond said warmly. The Lord of Rivendell turned to Thranduil and spoke with hesitation. “Uh… Thranduil… are you hungry? I… I could… bring you something.”

“Nay,” Thranduil said coolly. “I am fine.”

“Alright,” Elrond said, trying to ignore the king’s icy response. “Celeborn and I have assembled a team of warriors to set out for Lothlórien at daybreak. We have asked them to bring Galadriel as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you,” Thranduil said, maintaining his distant manner. “I, too, have amassed a small group of warriors. They will set out at first light for Mirkwood. I want Joren to know about all that has happened here… he would want to know…” Thranduil broke off suddenly.

“Thranduil,” Elrond said gently, “if there is anything I can do…”

“There isn’t,” the king said flatly. “You have done enough.”

Legolas watched this verbal exchange in fascination. He could feel the tension between his father and Elrond and wondered what had caused the strife. He wondered if Elrond had believed the rumors about his father and Arwen – if that could have caused a rift in their friendship, but Legolas quickly dismissed the notion as absurdity. He felt a sudden wave a fatigue and felt his head roll to the side unintentionally.

“Legolas!” Thranduil said, rising to his feet and rushing to his son’s side. “Legolas, are you alright?”

“Aye,” Legolas slurred. “I… I… am just so weary, Father. I… I… need to rest, now.”

Elrond met Thranduil’s concerned eyes and he nodded enthusiastically, silently reassuring Thranduil that the prince should sleep. “I will take my leave, now. Legolas, if you need anything…”

“Al… alright…” Legolas replied groggily.

Elrond bowed and left the room.

Thranduil remained standing next to his son for a moment. He found himself smiling when he observed the contours of Legolas’ face and how much he looked like his mother. He noticed that Legolas was already sleeping and felt himself relax a little. The young prince looked so peaceful that Thranduil couldn’t help but to touch his face.

The prince stirred and met his father’s concerned eyes. He was shocked to see his father still standing next to him. “Do I look that bad?” the prince asked, smiling faintly.

“Aye,” Thranduil replied honestly. Despite his kingly stature and royal station his eyes did not lie.

Legolas could see the despair deep within his father’s orbs. And although the king usually frowned upon physical affection, the prince decided to forgo the unspoken rule and touch his father. He grasped his father’s left hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “No matter what happens… no matter what… everything will be fine. I need you to promise that you will make sure that everything and everyone is fine…”

“I swear it,” Thranduil said sincerely. He didn’t pull away from Legolas’ touch. Instead, he placed his right hand on top of their already interlocking hands.

Legolas felt something strange suddenly – a tickling sensation inside of his head. Without warning he saw a myriad of pictures flash through his mind. Hundreds of images and sounds flooded his brain and then they were gone.

“Legolas?” Thranduil asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Legolas lied. “I just want to sleep, now.”

“Very well,” Thranduil said. He released Legolas’ hand and helped make him comfortable. “I will stay until Elladan returns. Then, I will go attend to your brothers. I promise, though, that I will be by your side as much as I can.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Legolas watched as his father took a seat near the foot of the bed and then tried to collect his thoughts. Somehow, he knew what had just happened; he had a vision. He wondered if touching his father triggered it. At any rate, he knew much more than he wanted to – his father was in love with Elrond.

---

TBC…