A cool breeze swept through the forest, gently stirring up the leaves on the earthen floor. All was quiet, until the smallest of sounds occurred. It was only traceable by an elvish ear, and the sound itself was made by an elf. Legolas jumped down from the tree he had been sitting in, and he mourned the loss of the tree's comforting embrace, but he needed to move on. Legolas was patrolling the Northern Mirkwood borders. So far he had not encountered any abnormalities, except for the dark trees that once were so full of light. Legolas was readying to travel back to his father's palace when he heard a noise. His pointed ear twitched as he searched for the source of the sound. Then he immediately knew what it was. Spiders, their hideous legs dragging their grotesque bodies closer and closer to Legolas' location. Legolas quickly jumped back into the tree he had sheltered in before and readied his arrows. Judging by his more than capable ears, there were multiple spiders heading his way. As soon as Legolas saw the gnashing pincers of a spider, he pulled his bowstring taut and fired. Before the spider had a chance to cry out, he silenced it with another arrow. He shot down three more with his bow before he jumped down and faced the remaining two. He unsheathed his familiar twin white knives and advanced on the spiders. He danced around them, scoring welts with his knives all across their hideous torsos. He was a whirlwind of death, always quick, always elusive, and he killed them quickly and efficiently. Alas, with a dying breath, a spider stung him in his right side. Legolas quickly fell to his knees and breathed deeply through the pain. He slowly stood up and took some cloth from his pack. He wrapped it hastily around his stomach area, and covered the wound. He didn't bother to clean it, as the wound was probably shallow and would heal quickly. He swiftly collected his arrows and set off for the palace.

The road was short and familiar, so he didn't understand why he felt so winded. Nevertheless he persevered and jumped through the trees of Mirkwood with ease. As he made his way towards the palace gates black spots danced before his eyes blinding him momentarily. The guards looked at him in concern but he waved away their unspoken questions. "Im maer. Man siniath?" He questioned the guard. "Mae tollen, hir nin.* Your Adar wants you to attend a council meeting as soon as possible." The guard replied. Legolas inwardly sighed at the prospect of attending another tedious council meeting, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He nodded to the guard and made his way to his chambers and quickly set his knives, bow, and quiver on his bed. He quickly changed into more formal clothes, suitable for a council meeting. He quickly ripped off the bandage on his waist and didn't look at the wound. It was probably healed by now and he covered it with his tunic. He made his way through the sparkling caves of his father's halls. It took him longer than usual to make his way to the council chambers, but he thought nothing of it. Legolas took a deep breath before opening the double doors.

"-and that's why we should send out more patrols near the Eastern border." Amon finished. Legolas was ready to fall asleep by the time Amon had finished speaking. Linor started to say something but Legolas didn't hear as his wound started to throb unpleasantly. The pain was reaching a peak when Thranduil asked him something. "Uhhh, possibly?" His words slurred together as the pain intensified. His head was ringing as if there was an angry dwarf inside trying to fashion his skull into an anvil. His side burned, and it stung, but he had to keep going. He was fine, Adar would be fine if he had this injury. 'It's because you're weak.' A voice whispered to him. This encouraged him and he pushed back against the pain to form a coherent thought. "Legolas, are you well?" His father said with concern layering his tone. "Yes Ada, I'm fine." Then he giggled. Ada's hair was so pretty. It was so pretty, and he was so sleepy, and then the pain in his side reached a new height and he whimpered. His father immediately said, "Everyone out. This meeting is dismissed." The council members looked disgruntled but hurried at the fierce tone in Thranduil's voice. Thranduil rushed over to his son and tentatively rubbed his arm. "Ion nin, what troubles you? You look terrible." Legolas stood up and tried to say "I'm fine Adar." But instead his head hurt and black was creeping in on his vision. He had tunnel vision and grabbed onto his chair for support. Then his legs betrayed him and he fainted into his father's arms. He faded into unconsciousness. It was so peaceful here, in the black void of sleep. He didn't hurt here. But then he heard his name being called. "Legolas. Legolas! Legolas, can you hear me? Wake up!" The voice was fearful. Legolas opened his eyes at the scared tone of voice. Thranduil looked at his opened eyes in relief. His father had lowered him to the ground and tried to resuscitate his son. "Ada it hurts." groaned Legolas. Thranduil lifted his son up and carried him swiftly out of the council room. He had one arm under Legolas' knees and one clutching his son's torso. All parted before Thranduil, and some gulped at the protective gleam in his eye as he carried Legolas to the healing chambers. His elegant silken robes swished* across the polished floor. Thranduil burst through the doors of the healing chamber. He lay his son down on the nearest bed and sat in a chair beside it. He clasped Legolas' hand and told the healers what had happened. He remained motionless, except for when they revealed Legolas' wound. The stab point was oozing pus and blood dripped down the side. Thranduil grew nauseous at the sight. He squeezed his son's hand tighter. He wanted to slaughter whatever monster had done this to his son, his little leaf. He wanted to hug Legolas and keep him safe forever. But now his son was wounded, and he could hug him when he healed. For now he would hold Legolas' hand.

Legolas woke up feeling stiff. His side hurt less and there was a warm, comforting, familiar hand holding his. He looked over and saw his father, a little worse for wear, but perfect as always. When Thranduil saw his son's blue eyes staring at him, he smiled and clasped Legolas' hand with both hands. "What happened?" Legolas croaked out. His father quickly handed him a glass of water. In doing so he released his grip on his son's hand. Legolas missed the comforting reassurance of his father's hand but brightened as he sipped the cold, clear water. "What happened?" He asked again in his normal tone of voice. Thranduil's gaze turned somber. "You had a spider leg stab wound. It was infected. Some of the leg remained inside you and the limb was also poisoned. You've been sleeping for two days." "TWO days?!" Legolas said in alarm. "Yes ion nin, your wounds were very serious. I almost thought-" Here Thranduil's voice cracked, and Legolas laid his hand on his father's arm. Legolas also was a bit shaken. What if he had never woken up? He would never see his Ada again, wouldn't wander his beloved forest. Not to mention, what would happen to Thranduil? Legolas didn't know if his father could handle his death, and his mother's death. "Ada, can I hug you?" He said shyly. "Of course, my little leaf. Always." His father answered. Father and son embraced, and Legolas inhaled the familiar scent of his Ada. Thranduil clutched Legolas tightly. Legolas was safe. It was alright now. His little leaf was safe.

Notes: *Lords and Ladies, I apologize at my uncouth elvish.

Yes it's a word and yes I used it in the correct context