Elvish terms:
elleth - female elf
Adar - Father
ion nín - my son
"I am truly sorry," Thranduil whispers as he leads her toward the door.
It is the second time his son has interrupted them just as they were about to make love. Thranduil can tell by her weary smile that she won't want to return again, and when he notices the contempt with which she glances over his shoulder at Legolas, he realizes it's for the best. He bids her good night, all the warmth suddenly gone from his voice – for no elleth, no matter how beautiful she may be, has the right to look upon his son with disdain.
When she is gone, Thranduil turns and approaches the bed with a sigh. Legolas may already be of age, but the king can't bear to send his son away when he is afraid. "Was it the spiders again?"
"Yes," Legolas says, glancing up quickly, as if startled out of a daze.
Thranduil looks down to where his son's eyes had been fixed, and the blood rushes to his face when he sees the sticky, wet stain on the front of his night robe, which he'd donned hastily upon Legolas' arrival. He excuses himself for a moment, pulls on a pair of thin trousers, and tosses the robe aside before getting in bed and taking his son in his arms.
Legolas' muscles relax at the contact, and he releases a contented sigh.
"You are a warrior now, Legolas," Thranduil says. "You must not fear the creatures of darkness." He does not bring up the fact that soon Legolas will have to demonstrate his fighting skills in the real world, but the knowledge lies unspoken between them.
"I know, Adar."
Thranduil tightens his arms around Legolas and breathes in the fresh scent of his hair. "You are going to be all right, ion nín. Everything is going to be all right."