A Healing Touch

HAPPY EASTER!!! Yes, I know it was yesterday, I also meant to post this chapter yesterday, but I had to go to my sister's early to help her cook dinner. And, yes, I know I took forever AGAIN, and I'm very sorry. Poor Zipper's had a cold, and I was trying to be up at the stables with her as much as I could. That, and my grandmother had a seizure the other day, and I had to keep a close eye on her while my mother was at work. Anyway, on with the reviews.

RyousMistress265: Yup, your beloved Glorfy is back! lol, and don't worry, I'm not that evil.

giggle: You're absolutely right! Leave the mining to the dwarves. I think you should e-mail Thranduil and give him a piece of your mind ;) Happy you liked it, enjoy the next chapter.

louise_oblique: lol, and as usual I appreciate your review. Sorry this took so long.

lilith: lol, it is a word. Im a feminist myself. And don't get me started on men. It's actually a proven fact that men only use half their brains, so we should cut them some slack ;)

HHS: Not a problem at all, I'm glad ppl are actually going to my site and perving over the stories and pretty pictures, lol. Things will get better soon, don't worry.

Ryuujin: Thank you, happy you're enjoying it. And yes, I'm working on the second part of curious strangers. I've had a bad case of writer;s block lately.

Courtney: Hehe, sorry, I couldn't resist. I always wanted to write a gooiffhiffhanger. Don't worry, everything's going to be ok!

Mawgy: LMAO, you know what? That's funny, 'cos my dog humps a toy cat! And yeah, I'm not too big a fan of 'Thranduil abusing Leggy' fics either. I like Thranduil. Except for Wednesday's 'In your perfect time' series, that's an awesome fic. So, have a good easter? ;) Sorry this took so long.

Mandy: Thank you, here's the next chapter.


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“Legolas?” the elven king’s voice softly murmured, his chest reverberating against the prince’s tender ear. The younger elf shifted, peering up at his father through tired eyes.

“I am awake, father,” he whispered, drawing out of Thranduil’s arms and staring him straight in the eye. “I’m alright.”

Despite his son’s words, the elven lord was unsettled by the paleness in his cheeks, as well as the dimness in his eyes. The prince was forming dark bags under his blue orbs, and he even seemed to have difficulty holding his own weight. In this dark prison, cut off from the voices of the trees and the rays of the sun, Legolas was fading all the more. It was a difficult prospect, true though it was. They had already been trapped in here for several hours, how much longer could he last? He had to get out of here, out of this dark chamber, and out of this forest, to the land of Imladris and into the arms of his lovers. Such could only save him now.

He felt Legolas tense again as another onslaught of pain rocked his body with a shrill cry of agony, and Thranduil held him to his chest as the lithe form convulsed as his innards felt as though they were set aflame. When it was over, Legolas’ body continued to tremble in pain, and the king could do naught but rock him against his chest and whisper words of comfort.

“It will be alright, my son,” Thranduil promised as he stroked his son’s hair. “You will see. We will get out of here, and you will be with your mates again, I promise you.”

The young elf continued to pant, and at the moment was incapable of forming words. Seeing this, Thranduil pressed the water flask and pouratirational amounts of cleaclear cool liquid into his dry mouth. “Thank you,” he rasped, before leaning his head against the elder elf’s shoulder.

After several moments of silence had passed by, a sudden rumbling caused both elves to jerk in alarm, and Thranduil was quick to pull his son from harm’s way, shifting back against the far wall. Then both elvatchatched, wide eyed, as the rocky blockage that had imprisoned them loudly shifted, a small beam of light peeking through the dark cavern as a cloud ost rst rose. Several more rocks were lifted and pushed through, colliding with other rocks as they came rolling to the ground, and soon there was a small gap near the ceiling that was just large enough for a body to squeeze through.

“Adar,” came a familiar voice from the other side, before an even more familiar face hovered over the hole. “Legolas, are you alright?”

“Tallen, thank the Valar,” The Mirkwood lord sighed with relief. “Can you get us out?”

“If we bring down the entire wall with you both inside, your lives may be at risk. Can you climb?”

“Legolas is too weak. He can barely stand, let alone climb.”

“Nay, ada,” the prince rasped. “I can make it.”

Thranduil shook hiad, ad, a stern look upon his fair face. “You are in no condition for strenuous exercise, ion-nin. You will only make things worse for yourself.”

“Adar, please. We have no other way of getting out, lest we cause more harm to ourselves. And I- I do not thing I can stay in here much longer.”

Legolas would never admit to being weak, Thranduil knew, he was far too proud. But the strain in his voice was disturbing, and his admission to being uncomfortable was even more troubling. To climb would be to risk his life, but to stay here would most definitely be a death sentence. Legolas was fading rapidly now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

“Tallen,” the Sindar called up to his second son. “Throw down some rope, and secure one end.”

The elder prince nodded and referred his request to one of the elves below him, and after several moments had gone by, the end of a rope was lowered down to the two trapped elves. Thranduil then secured the rope around his younger son’s waist before he received an annoyed scowl.

“Just to be safe,” the king answered the unspoken question. “You are not at your best, and I have no wish to see you drop to your death.” Legolas sighed in irritation as the two approached the rock face. “Tallen, is your end secured?”

“It is, adar,” came the reply. “We are ready when you are.”

“Legolas?” the elder elf turned to his younger child.

“I am ready,” the prince replied as he set one foot on a large rock and his hands on two more, which he made certain were firmly wedged in the rubble.

“Very well. Tallen, get ready.”

“We are ready, adar,” came the reply after a fair amount of shuffling on the other side.

After a nod from Legolas, Thranduil gave the order to pull. The young prince was surprised, to say the least, with the amount of difficulty he had climbing the rock face. Under normal circumstances, he would put out little effort in climbing rocks or trees, but now he found the exercise exacting and strenuous. Sweat began to bead upon his brow, and his hands were quickly becoming blistered and sore.

Though he would never admit it, he was secretly glad for the rope that held him, and it proved to be quite useful when another wave of pain coursed through his body during the ascent. Though he bared his teeth against the pain, he had nearly lost his hold on the boulders, one of the rocks dislodging under his foot as his weight was forced onto it. The rope had held him as the boulder tumbled down the wall, and he could do naught but dangle from it until the agony coursing within him ebbed away and his father was able to climb up after him to help him regain his footing.

The rest of the ascent went without mishap, and once he was pulled through the small hole by his brother, Legolas collapsed against him, panting for breath. Thranduil followed through moments later, and the three elves took a moment to regain their breathing until they descended the other side, Tallen bracing himself and remaining at the top to secure his brother’s rope.

The descent was not as strenuous, but it still left Legolas panting on trembling legs before they reached the bottom, and there the exertions the prince had endured finally took their toll on him. He collapsed hard on his knees before anyone could catch him, and the last thing he saw as he hit the hard earth, was the concerned faces rushing towards him.

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Thranduil paced impatiently before the oak door of his youngest child’s chamber, awaiting the healer’s diagnosis. He had been removed from the room earlier, his agitated and ddingding mood distracting the doctor from his work. That had been a half of an hour ago. Now he, along with his two elder sons, could do nothing but wait for the young elf’s prognosis.

Both Nava and Tallen were leaned against the walls, arms crossed, in nearly identical postures, watching as their father continued to walk from one end of the hall to the other. Their heads both lifted simultaneously when the large door creaked open, revealing a grim faced, dark eyed elf, and before he could even close the door behind him, he was immediately advanced on by the three elves.

“How is he?” Thranduil demanded. “How is my son?”

“Do you know what is wrong with him?” Nava asked, not giving the healer time to answer the king’s quarry.

“What caused him to faint like he did?” Tallen’s question immediately followed.

“Do you have any medicine that will help him?”

“My lords, please,” the healer implored. “I will tell you what I can, but perhaps we should move this conversation to a more private setting.”

“Of course,” Thranduil nodded shakily, gesturing far down the hall and leading the other three elves to the small family room, making sure the door was firmly closed behind him before he took a seat between his two sons on a pine coloured sofa, gesturing a chair across from them to the healer. Once he was seated, the healer took a steadying breath before he began.

m whm what I have ascertained, prince Legolas has received a quite severe head injury, a concussion to be precise. He will not die, with the proper treatment, of course. There are medications I can give him, and he will have to be spoon fed until he awakes. He will also require constant supervision.”

“You cannot wake him?” Nava inquired.

“No, my lord. I am sorry. He will awake eventually, rest assured. However, the young prince’s concussion is not what concerns me the most at this time.”

“How could it not?” Tallen demanded. “His head wound is the most severe injury on his entire body.”

“His body, yes,” the healer agreed. “But the damage upon his heart is far more life threatening, I’m afraid.”

“How do you mean?”

The doctor sighed. “All the evidence is there. His paleness, his erratic heart pains that you have informed me of, his growing weakness, his increasing solitude, these all point to signs of grief. To be exact, I believe Legolas is fading.”

“Fading?” Nava replied, his eyes wide in denial. “That cannot be. Legolas has everything he could possibly want; a home, a family who loves him, subjects whom adore him-”

“And a lover?” the healer asked boldly. He was answered with a blank stare, and he nodded. “‘Tis not my place to say, but I believe the young prince may fancy someone whom either does not return his affections, or he cannot possibly be with.”

There was a disheartening silence throughout the room, and for a while, no one spoke. Thranduil then nodded his head slowly. “Thank you, Hathelhen, now if you will excuse us, I should like to speak with my sons alone.”

“Of course, my lord,” the healer bowed respectfully before heading for the door. “I will be back to check on him later.” That said, he closed the door behind him, leaving the family to themselves.

“I can’t believe this,” Tallen exclaimed, rising from his seat only to begin pacing before the small desk in the corner of the room. “I have noticed Legolas’ behavior in the past months, but never has it occurred to be that he has some secret lover. Why didn’t hll ull us? What does he have to fear? Surely he would not fear our scorn, he should know that we would be happy for him. Who could it possibly be that he fawns over?”

“Sit down, Tallen,” Thranduil ordered, and the prince halted in his steps, returning to the chair the healer had previously occupied with a scowl upon his face. “I know who it is.”
th pth princes shot their father a startled look, and Nava met his brother’s eyes for a quick instant before he returned his gaze to Thranduil. “Who is it then, adar?”

The king sighed. “First, I want you both to give me your word that you will not overreact. It is a good match, and your brother is deeply in love, but even I was displeased at first. Promise me, that no matter what, you will not begrudge Legolas for his decision.”

“What could possibly make us resent him so? He is our brother, adar, we love him.”

“I know. But it is difficult to come to terms with something I have taught you both to be wrong your entire lives.”

Both brothers glanced skeptically at one another. “You have our word, father,” Nava swore.

Thranduil sighed with a nod. “After your mother was killed, and Legolas was… attacked, Elrond was the only one whom could possibly heal him after such a traumatizing ordeal. He was taken into his home after that, and he was raised as one of Elrond’s own.”

“Yes, we all know that, adar,” Tallen replied impatiently. “But what does all this have to do with Legolas’ lover?”

“Tallen,” Thranduil sighed. “After Legolas was attacked, he would allow no one to touch him, no one except for Elrond and Glorfindel, and occasionally Erestor and Elrond’s children. Legolas, even before the attack, had always been very shy and intimidated by other people, if you remember. But when… he was molested that night, what trust he had in others was lost. I do not know how, but both Elrond and Glorfindel seemed to break through to him. They were the only two he would allow closeness to his body… and to his heart.”

The two brothers stared speechlessly at their father momentarily, until Tallen began stumbling over his own words in baffled shock. “Are- are you saying that… Elrond and Glorfindel… are sharing- I mean, they are bound?”

“Yes, ion-nin,” Thranduil replied. “Legolas, Elrond and Glorfindel are bound. And because that they are so far away, and Legolas has not seen them in years, his heart is slowly breaking, and nothing other than to reunite them will save him.”

Both princes slowly took in their father’s words with astonished faces, utterly speechless at this new information. Thranduil had suspected this, all their young lives he had taught them that females were created for males, and that it was wrong to think otherwise, as was he taught by his father. Now he could see the error in that belief.

“But… but, they are both male, ada, and-”

“Yes, Tallen, and I know what you are going to say. Please do not be angry.”

“But it is wrong! It is appalling, it is-”

“It is love,” Nava replied calmly. Thank the Valar for his eldest son. The crown prince could always find reason in the most trying situations. “And Legolas would accept no other, and we shouldn’t expect him to after what he’s endured.”

“How can you say that, brother?”

“You have a mind for a reason, Tallen, use it. Glorfindel and lord Elrond raised him, and Legolas felt protected by them. To his fragile mind, they could defend him against any threat. They were his guardians, and our brother slowly learnt to trust them. Only because of the love he had grown to know could Legolas allow them to touch him in such a manner without fear, and I have no doubt that they do not love each other.”

Tallen gazed down at his shoes, his facial features changing throughout Nava’s speech from a disgusted look to one of gentle understanding. “Tallen,” Thranduil asked. “Now that you know this, do you still care for Legolas?”

“Of course I do,” the younger prince gasped. “No matter what, he is still our little brother. And I- if this is the path that he should choose, so be it, I will not condemn him for it.”

The elven lord nodded his approval before he turned to his eldest son with a sigh. “Ready a horse and carriage. Have our own horses and a band of soldiers prepared as well. We must get to Rivendell with all haste. Legolas does not have much time left.”

“Right away, father,” Nava nodded, and quickly left the chamber. Thranduil then rose to his feet, and wrapped a paternal arm around his second son’s shoulders as he guided him from the room as well.

“I hope you can understand why they share this union, ion-nin. Your brother has endured so much, you all have, and I doubt he could survive without them.”

“I understand, adar,” the prince sighed. “Forgive me for my doubt, I was wrong in my misgivings.”

“It is I who should apologize. I was wrong to teach you that such unions were unacceptable, and I now see my lapse in judgment.”

Tallen nodded with a smile, not speaking anr wor word of it. “I shall return to my chambers and ready myself.”

“Very good,” Thranduil nodded, and watched wordlessly as his son walked down the hall before turning the opposite direction and headed for his youngest child’s chambers.

Once inside the elaborate room, he slowly walked up to the large bed, his eyes immediately drawing to the still form wrapped in the woolen blankets. He passed a hand down the pale face, and held the motionless cheek in his warm hand. “Ion-nin,” he whispered in a strained voice, fighting back the unwanted tears at seeing his son so ill. “We are going to Imladris now, you are going to get better, and you are going to see Elrond and Glorfindel again… Legolas? Oh, please awake, ion-nin.”

The still face remained blank, and the elf king had to fight down a sob that had somehow made it past the lump in his throat. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“My lord,” came a young fene vne voice from the door, and Thranduil did his best to look stern as he turned to give the maid his attention. “Prince Nava has asked me to inform you that the horses have been readied, sire. Shall I send for someone to retrieve prince Legolas?”

“Thank you, nay, I shall do it.” The king replied, and with a polite curtsy, the maid left, leaving Thranduil to his son. He carefully lifted the prince into his strong arms, tucking his head underneath his chin before carrying him out the room. “Things will get better, my son, you will see.”

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Nava extended his hand from his heart to his father in farewell, before his brother and father repeated the gesture in exchange. After wishing them a safe journey, he watched as Thranduil, flanked by two guards, motioned his horse forward and onto the forest path, followed by Tallen and behind him, the large elven horse pulling the sturdy wagon that held his youngest brother, surrounded by six more soldiers, and four more following behind. One guard held the lead of a dappled grey mount, Skylenar, Legolas’ special friend. Since the young mare was utterly stubborn about being mounted by strangers, she was currently being used as a pack-pony, and held satchels upon her saddle. He hoped desperately with all his heart that the party would make it to Rivendell unharmed, and that Legolas would be saved.

For the most part, the days that they traveled went by uneventfully. They rarely stopped in their travel, even during the nights they rode on, pushing the horses to their very limits. Twice a day for only an hour would they break, allowing the horses to graze while the elves had a chance to take what food they needed or to relieve themselves. During this time, Thranduil would put a pot over a small camp fire and heat up some broth before holding Legolas to his chest and feed him the warm liquid, pouring down bits of water afterwards, and on the second break, he would usually sponge bathe him before changing his clothing as well.

They had had one encounter with a band of orcs when they had neared Dol Guldur. They had been outnumbered, but had fought them off nonetheless. Thranduil and his guards had stood in a circle around the carriage, back faced against it as they slaughtered the enemy, their swords slashing and their bows singing as fine arrows were released from the strings. They had prevailed with minor injuries, and after retrieving their used arrows and weapons, and tending to their wounds, continued on as if nothing had happened.

They had run into some difficulty when crossing the bridge at the Old Ford with the carriage, and it had taken a particularly long time to get it across without mishap, but their patience had proved to be an asset, and they had made it across safely.

They had continued on, across the terrain, and into the mountains, and as they ever neared the land of Imladris, Thranduil’s spirits rose as he could scarcely hear the rumbling waves of the waterfalls. The road continued on, and when they had made it, finally, to over the mountain, the king’s heart sang with joy as his elven eyes looked on the beauty of Rivendell, taking in the lovely waterfalls and magnificent homes of the city’s occupants. He did not take long, however, and quickly lead his men down the city’s path, eager to return his son to his lovers and see him well again. They had made it, and Legolas would be alright.

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