Walking In Darkness

Here's a story that I was intending to keep cute and fluffy… but then that annoying person in my head came out of hiding and told me to make it sad… sorry.

Legolas is the equivalent of a six-year old human in the first part of this, and an adult in the second.

Please enjoy!

"Ada, how much do you love me?"

Thranduil turned from where he was drawing the curtains in his son's room and rose an eyebrow. "Very much, Legolas. Why do you ask?" he said as he walked over to the bed where the little prince was laying half-submerged under the blankets. He pulled back the chair he had just been sat on while reading a story to his son and sat down, looking expectantly at the little blond.

Legolas ignored his father's question and pushed back the covers, sitting up and staring intently at the elvenking with a small frown on his little face. "Yes, Ada, but how much?"

Thranduil smiled. "Do you see those stars out there?" he asked softly, turning and pointing to the open door leading out onto the balcony.

Legolas nodded.

"Count them," his father said, and the little prince's eyes widened.

"I can't, Ada! There are so many of them, it's imp-imposs-"

"Impossible?"

"Yes, it is impossible!"

"Well. So is explaining how much I love you."

Legolas smiled widely. "Do you love me as much as I love honey cakes?"

"Much more than you love honey cakes little leaf."

"Do you love me as much as I love jumping in muddy puddles?"

"Much more than you love jumping in muddly puddles," Thranduil said with a smile as he gently pushed his son back down again and pulled the blankets up to his chin, his thumb gently stroking the elfling's soft cheek.

"Do you love me as much as I love bedtime stories?"

"Much more than you love bedtime stories."

A yawn interrupted Legolas before he could even begin his next sentence, and he tiredly moved onto his side and stared up at his father with big blue eyes. "Ada, I love honey cakes, muddy puddles and bedtime stories a lot," he said thoughtfully.

Thranduil smiled, leaning down and placing his forehead against the prince's.

"And I love you a lot, Las. You are precious to me beyond measure, and I love you more than anyone on this earth. You are my stars, my world, my universe, and I would give my life for you."

Legolas smiled faintly before his eyes slowly glassed over and he was lost in elven dreams about honey cakes, muddy puddles and bedtime stories. Thranduil smiled softly as he bent over and kissed him, his heart bursting with so much love for his elfling as he left the room.

"Ada, how much do you love me?"

Thranduil's tears tasted salty on his dry lips as his head turned, puffy eyes locking onto the exhausted ones of his son. The prince was laying in a bed in the healing rooms of Imladris, bloody bandages covering his entire broken body. His chest was heaving, raspy breaths escaping his lips as he attempted to breathe normally, and whether the elvenking wanted to admit it or not… he was dying.

It was going to be just like any other patrol, Thranduil had thought as he hugged his son goodbye three weeks prior. What he hadn't expected was to see Mirkwood warriors riding through the gates of the Woodland Realm two weeks early, carrying their unconscious and blood-covered prince.

Thranduil had been told of the damage done to his son by the malevolent beasts that were orcs, and he had immediately made the decision to take him to Rivendell, where Lord Elrond would hopefully have a better chance of saving him.

But now he had been told that there may be no hope.

His son was dying.

"Very much, Legolas," came the king's hoarse voice as he took the younger elf's hands in his and squeezed them tightly.

Legolas smiled. "But how much?"

Thranduil felt the tears fall from his eyes again, not having the strength to stop them. "Do you see those stars?" he asked, voice quiet as he moved slightly so that his son was able to see the bright lights in the night sky behind them through the window.

Legolas nodded, his own eyes becoming watery as he looked back at his father.

"Count them."

"Impossible."

"So is explaining how much I love you," the elvenking cried.

Legolas released a shaky breath but squeezed his father's hand and looked into his eyes, the pain reflecting off them like a mirror. It was heart-breaking to see the usually strong and mighty elf king let his guard down and cry so openly.

"Do you love me as much as I love riding in the forest?" he asked, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his side.

"Much more."

"Do you love me as much as I love training with the twins?"

"Much more."

"Do you-" Legolas paused as he broke into a coughing fit, lurching into an upright position and practically screaming as his burning organs protested with the movement and his stitches ripped in more than one place.

Thranduil immediately jumped out of his seat, his face a panicked mess as he held his son in his arms and whispered in his ear. "Shush, shush Las, everything will be okay, do you hear me? Shush now."

Legolas squeezed his eyes shut and took in a deep breath before pulling back slowly and looking up at his father, tears streaming down his face like a gushing waterfall. "Do you love me more than I love you?" he whispered raspily, and before his father got a chance to speak he continued. "Because you are precious to me beyond measure, and I love you more than anyone on this earth. You are my stars, my world, my universe, and I w-would-"

"Legolas?" Thranduil asked as the prince fell forward and his eyes drooped. "Legolas, please… Legolas, stay with me my little leaf, stay with me."

Legolas' eyes opened slightly and he looked up at the terrified face of his father, a smile appearing on his lips. "I would give my life for you."

The sound of the elvenking's anguished cries filled the Last Homely House, and everyone, every elf lord, every maid, every cook, every animal, stopped and shared a look with each other.

He was gone.

Tissues? Tissues, anyone? Yes, you? Here, take the whole box.

Okay so… I don't know what to say.

If it makes you feel any better, I didn't specifically say he died, so lets just imagine Elrond runs into the room with a determined look on his face and performs emergency CPR and our prince is alive again.

There. Better?

… no?

Oh.