A Healing Touch

Hey, everyone, enjoy your weekend? I sure as hell didn't. The power steering on my car gave out, now I have to pay money to get it fixed... again. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.

louise_oblique: ::grins stupidly:: he he, thank you. I aim to please.

Silent Archer & Arwen Slayer: No, don't hurt Arwen! I happen to actually like her. I like Thranduil too. LOL, where do you find these people? Next were gonna have Sauron sympathizers. J/K, no offence, your friends are interesting. But thank you, and thank you, AS. For the record, your opinion DOES matter to me, of course you have a say.

Steph: You're more than welcome. Lol, you're right about Glorfindel, too. The funny thing is I never actually meant for him to be a hero... it just sort have turned out that way, but hey, you like it, I like it, everyone else seems to like it, so were cool. Let's just say Im making up for all those Bastard Glorfie fics, cus I luuuuv that elf! Lol, though I do like the occasional bastard Glorfie fic myself, Anestel was excellent, so is Cuil Eden.

giggle: Lol, God knows we can't live without angst. Honestly I think slash is the greatest thing since sliced bread. It could be genetic, the book does state that Oropher and the rest of his line after are bad tempered, this could be part of it too. Anywho, here's your next chapter.

lilith: Lol, thank you very much, and don't worry, I won't.

Dreemseer: LMAO! I couldn't have said it better myself.

Mawgy: Awe... Thank you, I appreciate that. And I just LOVE the stick pic, lol. See? It doesn't take much to make me happy. ::Grins stupidly:: Yay, I have my own stick pic! *ahem* anyway, lol, what I meant was, if you wanna be teleconnetic, I'm rootin' for you! Good luck on that. Speaking of which... it's funny you should say that about Leggy's brand, Glorfindel says something similar in this chapter, and yes, you'll get a further explanation about Legolas getting a different room. I'm glad you liked that last chapter though, and though this chapter is crap, I hope you like it too.

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Disclaimer: I... ah, fuck it, we all know who owns this stuff, and it ain't me.

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The great halls of the palace of Thranduil were dark and silent as the barely audible footsteps of the youngest son of the Mirkwood king silently walked to his quarters. As Legolas opened the door he was slightly surprised to see two figures, both Noldo elves, perched upon his bed in the middle of dressing each others wounds, staring back at him. Without a word, the prince slowly crawled up next to them, and as he lay at the eldest elf’s side, Glorfindel wrapped a protective arm around him. "How did things go, penneth?"

Legolas remained silent and after several minutes of uncomfortable quiet, Elrond broke the silence with a knowing tone. "You did not tell him."

The elfling sighed. "No."

"Why not?" Glorfindel asked.

"I did not have the heart to." Was his only reply.

Elrond raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of the small gash on Legolas' cheek and raised his hand to cup his chin and turn his face to get a better look. "What happened here?" the elf lord knew in his heart what had transpired, but decided it best for the young prince to admit the mishap himself. "Tell us what happened, Legolas."

The young elf lowered his eyes, sorrow hinting in their gentle depth. "My father-- he has too many grievances. I have seen him angry before but naught like this. He looks so worn, so… so tense. It is almost as if he has aged some. He has become more cold and callthanthan I have ever seen him and-- and he is so confused. Never in my life have I seen him cry other then the time that my-- my mother...."

"Shh, it is alright, little one, you do not have to speak of it."

The prince swallowed hard before he continued, fighting back the constricting feeling in his throat. "At first I believed my brothers had exaggerated when they spoke of how bad ada had become but now that I see it for myself..... I do not believe they were specific enough. He has been heavily drinking. I can smell it on his breath as well as his robes. His eyes are dark, almost black and he does not seem to care about anything anymore." Legolas added in almost a whisper. "never has my father struck me across the face… he does not seem to be the same person anymore."

There was an uncomfortable pause that filled the room. "Legolas, if you would like, I can speak to your father about what happened. Perhaps he will listen to a healer and while I do that I can asses his--"

"Nay! Please, Elrond, you mustn’t. He is pressured enough and does not need my hindrance upon his chest at this time."

"Peace, Legolas. I promise you I will not tell him if that is your wish, but you should. Not right away but soon."

The prince’s features appeared to be in debate with its self at those words. "I will consider it."

The lore master nodded in satisfaction, though it wasn’t the striking response he had hoped for. "Good. Now, let me examine your wounds then it’s off to bed with you. We must arise early in the morrow for the council." Legolas let out an annoyed sigh, irritated to be treated as if he were still a child, but did as he was told and stripped out of his jerkin, shirt and leggings before he laid out flat on his back across the soft mattress.

Elrond gently began to probe around the fading bruises and quickly disappearing cuts over Legolas' person, being painfully careful not to graze the brand on the elfling’s hip. Most wounds appeared to be healing nicely, most of the physical wounds, at least. Though they had suffered together, the prince still tensed at every touch, his eyes carefully following the elf lord’s every move nervously, though Legolas would refuse to admit to his fears. He had suffered the worst out of all of this, and those haunted blue eyes would carry that fear for a very long time.

While the elf lord continued to carefully examine the boy, Glorfindel gathered several different herbs from his satchel, grinding and mixing them in bowls. He was no healer and his knowledge came nowhere near as close to Elrond’s, but after living over many millennia, and taking part in many wars, he had learned several things about healing herbs.

Elrond reached for one of the bowls of salve, coating two of his fingers in its pasty contents and gently spread it over the pink leaf that now adorned the prince’s hip. Legolas gasped as the cool salve touched his wounded flesh and for a moment he stared at the brand before he let out another long sigh. He ran a finger along it then, tracing its curved stem to its spaded rim and back again in silent contemplation. This mark would forever adorn his body, a constant reminder of what had happened to him.

“It’s who you are.” The seneschal suddenly murmured. Legolas’ head shot up, and he stared at him curiously under a furrowed brow.

“What?”

“That leaf,” he motioned with his eyes. “is the symbol of your father’s house, the very thing you were named after.”

“‘Tis a curse.” The younger elf spat. “The very reminder of what the Dark Lord’s spawn did to me.”

“And the very reminder of who you are.” Glorfindel sternly replied. “You’re an elf of the Woodland realm and a son of the king. An archer, and a warrior. You see this as a curse, penneth. You should not do so.”

“That is a difficult task when you’ve been raped of your body as well as your dignity!” Legolas barked angrily. Glorfindel shook his head sadly, gently stroking back the prince’s hair.

“I know. But… perhaps, Legolas, you should think of it as a reminder of not what was done to you, but why it was done.”

“It was done only because of my own recklessness and stupidity--”

“No.” the seneschal firmly cut in. “it was done because of your loyalty to your father.” At the elfling’s curious gaze he continued. “It happened… this happened because you wished to help your father. You knew the dangers of venturing here may lead to, yet you risked your very life to save your family as a son to the king and a prince to your people.” The Balrog slayer sighed before he continued. “I hold high pride for my own battle wounds. You have seen the scar that bears my own hip. Do not think of your scar as a mistake made, Legolas, but a badge of loyalty to your house.”

Legolas stared long and hard at the elder elf, lips partly slighted though he said nothing. Different emotions flashed in the depths of his blue orbs, silently contemplating the seneschal’s words. Glorfindel knew his words must have had some effect on the prince by the look on his face and he smirked to himself.

Elrond listened intently to the conversation as he cleaned and dressed the prince’s wounds, smiling to himself as Legolas gradually relaxed amongst their talk. His grin soon turned into a frown as his hands lowered, knowing his next move would cause some alarm in the young elf. “Legolas,” he gently cooed. “This may be difficult for you, but I must treat your internal wounds as well.”

Again, the elfli fea features grew fearful, and he hesitated, unintentionally glancing from his lower regions back to the elf lord. “Elrond,” his voice quavered. “is that really necessary?”

“I’m afraid so, penneth. I am sorry.” The lore master replied regrettably. Looking nervously around him, the prince took in a long, steadying breath before he leaned his head back down.

Glorfindel shifted, moving his body so that Legolas’ head could rest on his lap, and soothingly played with his hair while taking one of his hands in his own and giving a small, reassuring squeeze. “Do not be afraid, melethron-nin.”

Despite the seneschal’s gentle consolations, Legolas could not help the pang of fear that issued in the pit of his stomach, and when he felt Elrond raise his legs so they bent at the knees and his oiled fingers at his puckered aperture, he could not help but tense in fearful anticipation. The elf lord paused in his ministrations. “Legolas, this may cause you some distress, but you must will your body to relax so this can be done with as little pain as possible. The sooner you allow me to do this, the sooner it will be over.” Realizing his lover’s words were true, and wanting to get this over and done with as soon as possible, Legolas closed his eyes tightly and forced his body to calm its self.

He hissed in a sharp gasp as he was breached, and bit his lip before a whimper that wished to follow escaped his mouth. The burning pain was not reatreat as it was with the orcs, thanks to Elrond’s salve covered digits which helped them slide in with little friction, but the feeling of healing wounds being stretched was enough to cause anguish. With the soreness that came, memories began to assail his mind; quick flashes of the orcs, of how they beat him and humiliated him. How they branded him, and worst of all, how their patriarch took him against his will and viciously rode him. A sudden sob managed to escape his lips but not from the pain he now felt, but the brutal memories. He barely even noticed the tears that streamed from his eyes.

Elrond’s throat constricted and he wished desperately to stop, but if the wound was to heal properly he had no choice but to continue his ministrations, gently stroking the prince’s flank in silent apology. “We are nearly finished, love, nearly finished.”

“Legolas.” Glorfindel said firmly yet in a gentle tone. He began to worry when the elfling’s eyes remained tightly clinched shut, his head shaking from side to side in denial. “Open your eyes, Legolas… Elrond!?”

“I am finished.” The elf lord replied hurriedly as he gently removed his fingers. He quickly cleansed his hands with a cloth and then leaned over the young elf’s body, holding his head in his hands worriedly. “Legolas? Legolas, listen to me. You are here, safe in Mirkwood with Glorfindel and I. Open your eyes, penneth.”

“Hold on, Legolas, you are alright.” The seneschal was now very close to panicking, the sight of his lover struggling against the memories that wished to ensnare him into their grip and take him away from Arda too much to bear. “Legolas, you cannot leave us! My love, please! We’ve been through far too much to lose you now.”

Elrond pressed his forehead against the prince’s own, hands still pressed against his head in concentration as he murmured to the elfling. He mentally reached into the younger elf’s mind, searching out his soul before it faded from his body. “Legolas, listen to my voice. Hold on to that, let it guide you back to us. Please come back to us. We love you, meldir-nin.”

Both the elven lords words must have reached the princeling’s ears, for his eyes suddenly flew open and he launched himself into Elrond’s arms, sobbing hysterically. The elf lord sighed in relief and held the younger elf tightly to his chest, nestling his golden head underneath his chin.

“Oh, thank Iluvatar.” Glorfindel rasped, wiping away his own tears of dread from his cheeks, before engulfing both his lovers against his chest. “Don’t you ever frighten us like that again, Legolas.”

“I am so sorry, penneth.” Elrond breathed, unable to release his young lover from his grasp.

“What happened?” the elfling gasped through his tears.

“We nearly lost you.” The seneschal whispered. “You were fading.”

“I… I was fading…” he repeated to himself, unable to bring himself to believe those words.

It was not Elrond’s nature to wallow in self-pity, but he could not help but think the reason for the prince’s sudden behaviour. If he had not insisted that he examine the boy, then maybe he would not have come so close to losing him. But the other side argued with him, the logical part of his mind that told him he had no choice but to examine the wound, lest it become infected. His healer instincts usually won over such matters, besides that, it was only a matter of time before Legolas came to terms with what happened. He was very lucky that he had not died then and there while the orc took him. And Elrond knew in his heart that this would not be the last time this would happen. The next time they made love, the elf lord had no doubt the prince would undergo something similar. “Legolas,” he mumbled into his ear. “would you like me to go and find your father or your brothers?”

“No,” the elfling whimpered. “please, I do not want them to know what happened.”

“Legolas, perhaps this is something your family should know about. They wouldn’t judg-”

“Please! I am not ready to tell them yet.”

“Shh,” the elf lord cooed, rubbing the slighter elf’ back. “It is your choice. Wait until you are ready, I will not force you.”

“Will you both stay with me tonight? I do not wish to be alone.”

“Of course, penneth.” Glorfindel replied softly. “Your family’s quarters are too far for comfort anyways. Should something happen in the night they would be too far to realize it.”

“Why is that, Legolas, that your chambers are not on the same wing as your family’s?” the elf lord absently asked in attempt to keep the young elf’s mind off what had just transpired.

The prince sighed against Elrond’s neck. “When I was a child and I had come home to visit my family, my brother, Tallen had taken me to my old room in the family wing, but when we arrived there… my reaction was… more than disturbing.”

“What happened?”

“my chambers were still in disarray. After the attack on Mirkwood and my mother died… no one had appeared to bother with it. Blood stained the carpet, tapestries were torn apart, broken furniture lay across the floor… I began to cry and Tallen took me to my father. After seeing how the memories affected me, Tallen immediately ordered his attendants to relocate my things to this room… my old nursery. Somehow I had always felt comfortable here. Naneth would often spend her time with me here, reading to me or simply knitting while she watched me play.” A sad smile slowly graced his lips. “Ada would even come in here sometimes after he finished his paperwork and crawl around on the floor and let me ride on his back.”

“I am sorry, Legolas.” Elrond replied, feeling guilty for bringing up the painful subject.

“No, don’t be. The memories of this room are happy ones, and I always find it easier here to get a good night’s sleep. Those were good times.” The young elf’s voice gradually died down and when both elves looked down the prince’s eyes were glazed over.

“Legolas…” the seneschal started.

“It’s alright, Glorfindel. He is only sleeping.”

The Balrog slayer sighed to himself, shaking his head. “He really scared me tonight, Elrond. I thought for certain we were losing him.”

The elf lord nodded with a deep frown. “So did I. Tonight I think we’ve established that we must be careful of what we do to him. My decision was brash and foolish.”

“No,” Glorfindel shook his head, lifting a hand to stroke his dark haired lover’s cheek. “No, Elrond, do not think this to be your fault. You did what you thought was best for him.”

“Still, I should have known better.”

“Do not blame yourself for this. Legolas doesn’t, nor do I.” Elrond sighed but nodded and gently scooped up the prince while Glorfindel pulled back the coverlet of the bed. While the elf lord pulled himself and the dozing elfling under the covers, Glorfindel pinched out the candles before he joined them. “I fear I may be unable to sleep this night, meleth-nin.”

“Nor will I,” the elf lord agreed. “but we must try. There is a council in the morrow and we must be present. Would you care to sleep in shifts? For the first half of the night I will stay awake and watch over Legolas, then I will wake you in several hours. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” The seneschal nodded. “wake me in four and a half hours.”

“Very well.”

“Wake me, Elrond. I know you. You will stay up the rest of the night and allow me to sleep. Wake me.”

“I promise you, Glorfindel. I will wake you when my shift is over.” Elrond swore, rolling on his stomach so that he could keep an eye on the young prince. “Rest now, my heart. For the morrow will be long and gruelling.” The seneschal reluctantly nodded, and gazed at the young elf nestled between them as he allowed sleep to take him.

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Neither elf had slept well that night, too worried over their lover’s condition to allow peaceful dreams to engulf their troubled minds. Thankfully the prince had slept serenely and was untroubled by a relapse of what had happened to him. The next morning when the three elves headed down to the dining room, they found Elladan, Elrohir, Tallen and Nava already seated near the head of the table in a somewhat heated discussion regarding the wellbeing of Mirkwood.

"This is not about politics, Elrohir," Nava exclaimed. "it is about the wellbeing of my people and I shall not sit here while their homes are being destroyed!"

"I am not saying that," Elrohir replied. "I am merely saying that with your father's absence, you, as the crown prince, should be seated on the throne and directing your people. How are they supposed to defend their homes when they do not have a leader?"

Legolas took a seat beside Tallen, followed by Glorfindel, while Elrond took a seat on the other side beside his first born, taking in the conversation.

"We have a fine leader!" Nava barked. "Just because father is not at his best does not mean he is not our lord! He may be ill but I shall follow his every command until the day he passes to the Undying Lands! He may not present himself to the public but he is still here and is doing his very best."

"His very best?" Elladan interjected. "If that were true he would not be locked up in his chambers while his people are out there dying under the enemy’s hands!"

"That’s enough, Elladan!" Elrond suddenly demanded, standing from his seat. "We are getting off this subject. We shall wait until the council begins to decide the fate of Mirkwood."

"Yes, father." Elladan mumbled.

"Yes, lord Elrond," Nava replied. "I apologize. I am just worriedut mut my realm as well as my father."

"I spoke with him last night, " Legolas sighed, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. "You were correct, brother, when you said adar was not himself. But I never expected he was so ....." Legolas could not finish as he lowered his head and tightly shut his eyes, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat.

"You spoke with adar?" Tallen spoke for the first time. "What happened? What did he say?"

"I am not certain what exactly is grieving him, brother." Legolas said, his head still lowered. "But whatever it is deeply effecting him." Legolas sighed, his voice full of sorrow as he finally looked up into his brother's hazel eyes, while his own brimmed with tears. "He cried in my arms last night, Tallen."

Tallen stared at his little brother in a mixture of both disbelief and sorrow. "Well," he said. "for once father has swallowed his pride and took some much needed comfort. It is good that you are here, Legolas. Perhaps father may open up his grief stricken heart to you, if not us."

"Perhaps."

"Come," said Nava. "Let us not dwell on these sad times for now. Let us enjoy our morning meal."

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The council members were seated at a round table under a rather large gazebo, just outside Thranduil’s cave, in a cluster of foliage.

The council members consisted of Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel, the high elves from Lothlorien, Lord Elrond, Glorfindel, and Elladan and Elrohir for Rivendell and Nava and Tallen to represent Mirkwood. Legolas was there too in support of the house of Elrond as well as his father's realm. Gandalf the Grey had also come, if for no other reason than to referee, should an argument break loose, which would most likely happen. Being a friend of all three elven realms, perhaps he could convince Mirkwood to a peaceful solution with the other households. The entire council was rather surprised when the meeting was interrupted by Thranduil who unexpectedly showed up, and took a seat between his two elder sons, not bothering to greet the gathered elves or wizard.

Elrond's breath caught in his throat as Thranduil appeared looking more than a little dishevelled. What Legolas had said was no lie. The elven king did indeed look like he had aged. Lines creased his wise face and his eyes were bloodshot. He had dark bags under his eyes and his once graceful and proud stance was now slumped and slow.

The Mirkwood lord noticed he was being stared at by every person present and was rather offended by the pity their eyes projected. "Well, are you here to discuss the threat my kingdom is under or are you all here just to gawk at me as if I were the Dark Lord!?!" he suddenly barked. "Get on with it."

Nava cleared his throat and stood, and taking a deep breath he relayed to the council of all that had happened, explaining the constant orc and spider attacks and how their numbers seemed to be increasing. "Day by day we are having greater difficulty controlling them. Our scouting parties come back in fewer numbers each day and soon I fear they will find a way to breach our boarders."

"We are having similar difficulties across our own territory." Lord Celeborn chimed. "However, we are able enough to control them. Perhaps we can spare a few guards and send them here to assist you."

"The number of orcs on our boarders have lessened dramatically, thanks to the fine hunting skills of my sons." Elrond said with a hint of pride in his voice. "We can spare as many soldiers as you require."

"We are not as weak as you think, Peredhil." Thranduil growled. "We may be outnumbered but we are still a powerful realm and my son's guards can fend off as many enemies as anyone else."

"But even so, adar," Tallen cut in. "my soldiers do not have the power to ward off both the orcs and the spiders. All help is welcome."

Thranduil glared at his son, his teeth tightly clinched but before he could reply, Gandalf stepped in. "Perhaps, my old friend, you should just for this once, swallow your pride and allow Elrond to help. You know you could use it."

The king turned his challenging eyes to the old Istari, which Gandalf unflinchingly held, and in the end it was the elf lord that lowered his eyes. "Very well." he mumbled.

"So it is settled," Galadriel's musical voice announced. "Guards from each realm shall be sent to Mirkwood to assist with this would-be ongoing battle."

"We could also send some medical supplies and weaponry." Glorfindel inquired.

"Do not push your luck, Noldo." Thranduil spat.

"We could use more weapon supplies," Tallen interjected. "and I'm certain the healers would appreciate some extra medicinal plants."

"Fine!" the Mirkwood king barked.

"Very good." Celeborn replied. "Meeting adjourned."

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After the meeting, Mirkwood’s lord immediately returned to his quarters. In a whirlwind of golden hair he stormed down the halls with a mixture of emotions on his handsome face; Shame, anger and sorrow. Slamming the twin oak doors behind him, he lowered himself into his chair by the window and un-corked a bottle of liquor.

How dare his own sons contradict him in front of the council like that? Especially in front of that half elf imbecile and a daughter of the kin-slayers. Did his children really think him so weak? Thranduil sighed. Look at him. Here he was sulking in his chambers meanwhile his people were out getting themselves killed to protect their kingdom, putting the weight of his entire kingdom on his sons shoulders. He was no leader. He was a selfish, greedy, power driven monster. He couldn’t even mask his own emotions anymore. For the Valars sake, he broke down crying in the arms of his youngest child!

Thranduil took a large swig of his liquor, not bothering to savour its taste but merely chug the bitter liquid down his throat. He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard a knock on one of the large doors. Before he could grant entrance, Glorfindel walked in the dark room carrying a plate stacked with fruit, bread and cheese. "I thought you might be hungry." the seneschal replied. "You haven’t eaten all day."

Thranduil grunted. "It is customary to wait for a reply before entering ones chambers."

"I picked up that habit from Erestor." he joked as he set down the dish of food on the side where a small end table stood and he suddenly noticed the bottle and the recognizable scent of alcohol. "May I join you?" Thranduil let out an annoyed sigh but nodded at the elder elf. Glorfindel sat across from him as the elven king passed the bottle to him. After taking a slow, long sip, the seneschal passed it back.

Glorfindel sat still, staring at Thranduil while he swallowed the fine liquor, wondering how to explain the situation to him. He knew that he would be betraying his young lover's wishes if he told Thranduil about what happened back in the forest but in his heart he knew that Legolas would not tell his father at all out of fear of adding to the stress of the elven lord. Besides, even if Elrond promised Legolas he would not tell him, the Balrog slayer made no such vow and figured telling him would be for the better. "Thranduil, we must talk."

"Obviously."

"About Legolas."

Thranduil paused from drinking and lowered his bottle, setting it beside him on the table. "What of him?"

Glorfindel sighed. This was going to be difficult. He licked his lips nervously before beginning.
"When we received your son's message informing us of the attacks Elrond immediately dispatched himself and several guard to Mirkwood. Legolas, being your son, insisted in going with them and Elrond unwillingly agreed. On there path journeying here they came across a small party of orcs, there seemed to be too little of them, some may have been slaughtered by your people, I do not know, but there were enough of them to overpower the guards. None of them survived other than Legolas and lord Elrond." Glorfindel paused, allowing the elven king to take in the information. Thranduil's face was plastered with a deep frown and slightly parted lips and the seneschal continued. "The orcs took them both captive. They beat them, tortured them, just for the fun of it. But Your son suffered the worst out of the attack. They-- they took Legolas against his will.” The old elf sighed sadly. “They tortured and raped him, Thranduil.” The elven king, as pale as he already was, seemed to turn paler while his mouth hung slightly open and his eyes grew wide with disbelief. "When I and my party found them, they were so badly beaten that I could not believe they had survived the torture. My heart nearly broke at the pitiful state they were both in."

"Legolas…" Thranduil whispered to himself before finally irrupting "Why would my son not tell me this? Why would he keep this secret from me!?!"

"You already bear the weight of an entire realm on your shoulders, Thranduil. Legolas did not wish to add to your grieving heart," he explained, his next words added with a hint of anger. "and you could not look past your own grief to see there was something distressing him."

"I am such a fool!" Thranduil cried. "I sensed there was something amiss but I did not pursue it. Ai, what am I to do?"

"You can start by talking to him. Your son loves you very much, Thranduil, and right now he needs you more than ever."

"How long were they in the orcs custody?"

"Four days. Four gruelling, treacherous days."

"Has he spoken with anyone else about this incident?"

"Only Elrond and myself."

"Why would he discuss this with you?"

"Because--" Glorfindel hesitated. "Thranduil, there is something else you must know."

"And what is that?"

The seneschal sighed shakily. "We are lovers."

Thranduil stared at him for several long seconds, opened mouth. When he finally spoke his tone of voice was dangerously low. "What?"

"Legolas, Elrond and I. We are bound."

At that moment the Balrog slayer thought that the elf lord’s head would pop as it turned a dangerous shade of red before he exploded. "I leave my son in your care for the majority of his young life and find out you are bedding him like some maiden!?!”

"It did not start like that. At first we did love him, we truly did as if he were our own son, but then--"

"Then you both decided you needed a new play mate and now my son is taking it up the backside like a female by a Noldo and a half elf!" Thranduil bellowed. "I should kill you!"

"You speak of it as though Legolas is being used as a toy, but I love him, Thranduil, with all my heart, as does Elrond!" Glorfindel growled back. "I would die for him!"

"Believe me, that can be arranged!" Thranduil had a look of pure rage as if he were ready to kill and turned around and swung open the twin doors before he audibly marched down the hall in a fit of anger. Glorfindel sighed and followed far behind.

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"You did not say much at the council, penneth." Elrond murmured into Legolas' ear. The two elves were curled up together on the prince’s bed, Elrond spooned up behind the younger elf while he stroked his fingers through the flaxen hair of his lover.

"I did not expect ada to be there. I was rather surprised."

"As was I and I imagine was everyone else as well."

"Do you--" Legolas was cut short as his bedroom door slammed open and his father stormed in, looking more than a little angry. On the contrary, he looked furious. Legolas mentally cringed at the fury in those icy blue eyes and he and Elrond immediately parted and stood.

"What in Arda is going on here!?!" Thranduil roared.

"Ada?"

"Legolas," Thranduil snarled. "tell me what Glorfindel says isn’t true! Have you bound yourself to him and Elrond!?!" Legolas felt as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he looked at his father for a short moment with wide and frightened eyes before he lowered his gaze to the floor. "Legolas? Tell me the truth!"

"It is true, adar." Legolas whispered.

Glorfindel rushed in and stood at the door, taking in the situation. The look on Thranduil's face could have scared off Morgoth himself. "How could you? You have shamed me! Shamed this household! Bedding two males, not just any two males but old enemies of mine! What in Arda has gotten in to you? I aught to throw you over my knee!"

Legolas looked up at his father, tears brimming in his eyes, but his voice was powerful and unwavering. "I am no longer a child, ada! I love them more than words can ever say! They are everything to me and they have both taught me how to love and not fear it! They have protected me and made me feel loved and appreciated! I am happier with them than I have ever been in my entire life and it isn’t right for you to take that away from me!"

"How dare you." Thranduil's enraged voice growled. He then turned his deadly glare towards Elrond whom matched his gaze. "And you! You’ve corrupted my son! I leave him with you so that he can heal and next thing I know you are using him as a substitute for your wife!"

Elrond glared hard at the king as those words seemed to wrap around his heart and squeeze it with brutal force. "I am doing no such thing!" he barked. "I love Legolas with all my heart and I would do anything for him!"

"Oh, do you?" Thranduil shouted. "Do you not realize that you will one day break his heart, Peredhil? When you travel to the Undying Lands and reunite with Celebrian will there still be a place in your heart for him? What then will you do? Who will you choose to spend the rest of eternity with? Your first true love and the mother of your children or my youngest son whom isn’t even a quarter of your age? Answer me, Peredhil!"

Legolas' heartbeat was rapid and hard as he waited for Elrond to answer. What would he do when that time came? Legolas did not think he could bear losing the elf lord and would most likely die of grief if he lost him, and his heart seemed to skip a beat at that prospect.

Before Elrond could form a proper response, Glorfindel walked over to the three and stood behind Legolas who was kneeling on the floor and placed both hands on his shoulders. "Even if Elrond chose to be with his lady, I would never leave Legolas. When I once told him I would always be there for him I meant it. I will always take care of him."

"You?" Thranduil roared. "You have already betrayed him by telling me of your relationship with him along with the orc attack."

Legolas’ head shot up and he stared wide eyed at the seneschal. "You told him? Why?"

"Because I knew you would not, penneth, and he needed to be told for your own sake."

"In any case," The son of Oropher sneered. "I cannot believe what is going on. I am very disappointed in you, Legolas. I would have expected more from you!"

"But, ada, I-"

"Do not ada me, Legolas! Right now I do not even wish to talk to you! Any of you! I want you all out of my dwelling in the morrow, do I make myself clear? And Legolas, as long as you continue bedding these Noldor elves I do not want you back here!"

With that, Thranduil stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Elrond sighed and looked down at Legolas who was fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. With a sudden rush of anger, Elrond chased after the elven king.

Bending down, Glorfindel gathered the prince’s shaking form to his breast, rocking him gently as the tears finally fell and he sobbed soundly into the seneschal’s shoulder, grasping his robe for dear life. Gently Glorfindel lifted Legolas soundly off the stone floor and laid on the bed, the weeping elfling curled up at his side. "Shh, penneth, it will be alright. He only said those things because he was angry and a little surprised. He didn’t really mean it, just give him some time to calm down and think things through. shh,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond stalked down the halls trying to catch up with Thranduil and when he finally reached him, he whirled around on the other elf lord, blocking his path, glaring at him furiously. "Are you mad, Thranduil?"

"Step aside, Peredhil, this is not a good time." The golden haired elf sneered.

"Frankly, Thranduil, I do not care. Right now your son is in that room crying his eyes out because you are too self righteous and too proud to allow him to live his own life the way he wishes. Can you not understand? He loves me. He loves Glorfindel. He cares for us both deeply and we, him. Why is it that you fear love so much?"

"I fear nothing." Thranduil growled.

"If that is true then you would not torment your child like this. I would never be so heartless towards my children. There is obviously something upsetting you, Thranduil, otherwise you would not be acting as such towards your children as well as your kingdom." Elrond sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers before adding more softly, "Thranduil, please. We were friends once, long ago. Trust me as you once did. Tell me what is going on for your sake as well as your kingdom’s."

Thranduil looked deep into the grey eyes of the Rivendell lord as his face seemed to soften and he lead them into his chambers, taking the two seats in the corner. "Do you want to know what ails me, Elrond? Everything! Everyday I watch good people I’ve known for centuries get killed. And for what? To protect this kingdom. This tiny insignificant kingdom is worth more than their lives to them. I’ve lost so many good friends and family in the passing years and each time it becomes more difficult and I find myself wondering who will be next. One day I may even find that I’ve lost one of my own sons."

Elrond nodded in understanding, the elf’s words making perfect sense. He too had lost many good friends in battle, great warriors and soldiers like Gil-galad, but the casualties he suffered came nowhere close to as many as Thranduil had lost. His father, Oropher, and his mother, his wife, his good friend, Rodarion, former captain of the guard, just to name a few.

"Ai, Elrond, I am tired. Tired of worrying each day who I will lose next. My heart grieves for those I’ve lost and I cannot seem to let go."

Elrond gently placed a hand on the elf king's shoulder as he placed his head into his hands.
"You have created a shell around yourself, my old friend, a barrier to keep yourself from being hurt. You lock yourself in your chambers so you do not have to face reality and when people try to break through this wall you have created you push them away and become cold and callous. You do not fool me, Thranduil. I know you purposefully become cold and distant to keep yourself from being hurt, but I do not believe you realize how much you are hurting others. Your family worries over you," Elrond glanced at the floor, scrutinizing several empty bottles. "and your constant consumption of alcohol is not helping matters at all. Let us help you."

Thranduil turned tired eyes up to meet the dark haired lord’s. "What should I do?"

"First I think that you should go and apologize to your son. Ever since those orcs had taken him he has been insecure and he needs his father's support more than anything right now."

"The rape." Thranduil murmured. "I was so angry that I had forgotten all about that. Ai, I really am a bad father."

"Will you stop that," Elrond said, becoming annoyed. "I am growing ill of hearing you wallow in self pity. You are a good father and you know it. You just forgot how to act like one for a short while."

The two stood and walked down the hall side by side. "It is obvious that my son truly loves you but I still do not fully agree with his choice of lovers, especially two males. And I must admit that I am even more unsatisfied knowing that his lovers are both you and your seneschal."

"Now wait a moment, Thranduil--"

"That is why if either of you ever leave him or hurt him," Thranduil said raising a hand to silence him. "I will have you locked in my dungeons and throw away the key." The two stared at each other for a moment before the golden haired elf’s lips quirked. Elrond smirked, realizing Thranduil had granted him and Glorfindel his approval and he snorted in a very un-lordly way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the two elf lords entered the prince’s room they spotted Legolas curled up to one side of Glorfindel, hugging him tightly as the Eldar sang softly into his ear. The Balrog slayer paused as he looked up and noticed the two figures in the doorway.

Thranduil could not help but smile slightly as he witnessed the tender moment and walked up to the bed sitting on its edge and lightly placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. The elfling stirred and turned reddened eyes towards his father and gave him a nervous look. Gently, Thranduil grasped both of his hands and guided him to sit up straight then tenderly cupped his chin, causing him to flinch but he did not pull away. "Ion-nin," Thranduil murmured, gentle eyes shimmering. "I am so sorry. What I said was unfair and I can only ask for your forgiveness."

Eyes brimming with tears anew, Legolas hesitantly encircled his father's waist. In kind, the elven king wrapped his own arms firmly around his son's shoulders and held himht aht as the prince's body trembled and fresh sobs racked his body.

Glorfindel soundlessly slid off the bed and headed to the door, Elrond leading the way to give father and son some much needed quality time and as the seneschal looked back before closing the door, he grinned as he watched Thranduil gently smile down at his son and kiss him lightly on the top of his head.

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ada/adar: daddy/father
penneth: young one
meleth-nin: my love
melethron-nin: my beloved
meldir-nin: my dear
ion-nin: my son

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I know it wasn't as good as the other chapters but I tried, plus I had a killer headache while writing this.