After the Storm

A/N: This is named thanks to the song After the Storm by Mumford and Sons, as it was a huge inspiration when writing parts of this. Originally, this was a long story, but I decided that I didn't like most of it, and so changed it to just the part inspired by the song. Personally, I find the Tolkien's ideas of hope and despair incredibly inspiring. Legolas is injured, but it is out of context- you can invent whatever reason you like for his injuries. Elladan and Elrohir feature lightly at the end of it, and they will appear more in some of my other fanfics.

Disclaimer: Uh….well… *hangs head in shame* don't own them, as much as I wished I did.

0-o-0-o-0

It hurts. Everything hurts. The pain blossoms in my chest, but spreads all over my body, like an endless fire. Ai Valar, it burns.

I cannot open my eyes. I cannot see where I am. I can tell I am moving; the wind blows across my face. I can tell I am being held. There! An arm is tight across my waist. But the pain blots out my thoughts. All I can feel now is the pain. My thoughts run in sync with the jolting underneath me. The pain…the pain…the pa-

0-o-0-o-0

Time has passed, I think. I don't know.

Where am I?

I can't see anything. Am I floating?

What is this that surrounds me?

Ah yes, Darkness .I remember what this is.

I can feel something. What is it?

Something squeezes my hand.

Hand. It is strange, but I didn't realise I had one until now. I can feel someone squeezing it, again and again. Why?

And then suddenly it all rushes back. Every moment of that fight I can remember, every foul beast that I killed, and the countless others that took each one's place.

And I can remember the pain. The pain that I felt now courses back through me. My body shakes, but I cannot control it. I cannot see anymore. All that surrounds me is the darkness. It tugs on me, pulling me back and down, down, into the blissfulness of oblivion.

The darkness gives way as I feel my body writhe in agony. I try to cry out, but my mouth won't open. My voice won't work.

Strong arms pin me down, stop me from moving. I want to scream at them. Let me go! I have failed. I deserve nothing more.

I cannot breathe. I cannot draw the air into my lungs anymore. I do not like this feeling. I do not want this. All I want is the darkness, the deep depths of oblivion. But it won't come.

I am drowning. I am drowning. The thoughts ring through my head as I sink under the waves. Above me, I can hear voices, but it doesn't matter. The water crashes over me, crashes through me, filling my mouth. I am drowning.

0-o-0-o-0

Legolas was still in the bed, the sun just beginning to rise outside. New bandages had been wrapped around his injures, the white linen tight around his body.

Thranduil sighed deeply. It had been two days, two long, arduous days since Legolas had been brought back to the palace. Since then, he had not woken up. He had barely moved, and was only swallowing the smallest amounts of water at a time.

Thranduil hated this. He hated watching his son put his life on the line. He hated watching him come home injured, or unconscious, or simply tired and despairing. He hated seeing the once bright eyes of his son dim and flicker, like a candle in too much wind.

He shifted closer to Legolas' bed. There were probably many pressing things for him to do, but right now he didn't care. He grabbed hold of one of Legolas' hand. It was so cold.

"Ion-nin, listen to me, if you can hear. You have to hold onto hope." He squeezed Legolas' hand again. "You have done the best that you can against this shadow. You have made me proud. And there will come a time with no more tears, and thing will not break or fall down anymore. Please, ion-nin, hold on."

"Do you remember, ion-nin, when you were just an elfling?" He smiled slightly as fond memories came back to him, of when this forest was truly Greenwood the Great. "I can remember the time when you brought a wolf cub into the palace…"

0-o-0-o-0

Something has changed. I can breathe now. I am no longer drowning.

Yet the darkness still tugs at me. I am so weary. I give in, sinking into the soft blackness.

But something stops me. Something tugs at my hand.

I hear a voice. A voice that I know. Who is this? Who can I hear?

Adar.

With that thought, the darkness starts to tug even more, trying to pull me down into its depths. But I can fight it now. I want to fight it.

Snatches of the voice filter through the darkness. I hear my father's words. He is asking me something. What is he saying?

He is asking if I can hear him. I want to reply. I want to say yes. But I am so weary. I cannot move. I cannot speak.

But I can still hear him. What is he saying now?

He is telling me that there will come a time when there are no more tears. Is that possible? Will there be a time when the forest is not covered in shadow, when it is light again?

I hope so. I hope so much that it hurts. But I cannot see it. I cannot see what my father talks about.

What is he saying now? The voice comes and goes, and I can only hear snippets.

He is asking me something again. He asks whether I remember.

Remember what, Adar?

I cannot hear what he is saying.

Nevertheless, he is there. He is still here with me. The darkness still pulls, but I rise above it. I am stronger than the darkness. I will not let it claim me. I will have hope. I will do what my father says.

I will hold on. I will hold on. I will hold on.

0-o-0-o-0

Thranduil did not know how long he sat next to his son. He did not stop talking softly, asking his son whether he remembered some of the memories he had. He had spoken most of these memories now, trying to get through to Legolas in any way he could.

He sighed. Legolas had not moved, and the hope that had been fluttering in his chest was fading fast. Healers bustled around him, sometimes changing bandages, or trickling more potions down his son's throat. He did not watch. He kept talking as outside, the sun sunk into the treetops.

The sky was dark by the time Thranduil ran out of stories to tell his son. He simply sat there, talking about anything that came to his mind.

The first stars were starting to show when Thranduil mentioned the weather in passing. He was talking about the storm that had hit Eryn Galen a few weeks ago, when a sudden memory struck him. He gasped, and stopped talking, hit by the memory from a long time ago.

The King stroked Legolas' face gently, before reaching for his hand again, and squeezing it gently. He started to tell the story.

"Do you remember when you were just an elfling? There was a great storm in Eryn Galen, the greatest that the forest had seen for hundreds of years." Thranduil smiled. "You were only young then, but I remember how scared you were on the first night! It was the first time you had been in a proper storm, and crept into my room that night. You came up to my bed, and startled me so much!" Thranduil's eyes were slightly glazed, lost in the memories of Legolas' youth.

"The storm lasted for four days. On the evening after the storm ended, no-one could find you in the palace. The entire court was in uproar! So I went outside, to see if you had crept into the forest. Which of course, you had."

"I followed your tracks north, until I came to a clearing. A great old oak tree had fallen in the storm, leaving a gaping hole in the canopy. The ground was muddy and torn up. And do you know what sat at the base of the fallen tree, covered in mud? A little elfling, crying softly."

Thranduil paused. "I went over to you, and sat down next to you in the mud, pulling you into my lap. It didn't matter that it was nearly dark, or that I had just gotten my best robes covered in mud. What mattered was you. You will always matter most to me."

"I asked you why you were crying." Thranduil gently stroked his son's face again. "Do you remember Legolas? Do you remember what you told me?"

"You said you were crying because the storm had hurt the forest. You told me that the forest had been hurt, and that it wasn't as beautiful anymore."

"So I took you by the hand, and we stood tall. Together, we climbed to the top of the fallen oak and sat there. And lo! before us, on the other side, lay many small flowers, each drinking in the dying rays of the sun."

"We sat there, and I told you stories of the Elder Days whilst I braided flowers into your hair. Do you remember the flowers, ion-nin? Do you remember the stories?"

Thranduil bowed his head in grief, still holding on to the cold hand of his son. "And then you looked up, did you not, ion-nin? I followed your gaze, and behold! Stars were sparkling in the night sky. You sat on my lap, in the dark forest, and I told you about the stars. Do you remember the tales, ion-nin?"

"In the end, I reached the final story I knew about stars. It was the story of Earendil, our most beloved star. I told you the story of Earendil and Elwing, as we sat in the dark forest. I told you how there was always hope."

Tears formed in Thranduil's eyes as a sudden memory struck him. "Can you remember what I said to you? Can you remember what I told you, as we sat out there in the forest, watching the stars?"

0-o-0-o-0

I can hear the voice again. It is clearer now. I can nearly hear every word that my father says.

Somehow, I know where I am. I know who I am, why I am here. I am no longer floating. I am lying in a bed.

Yet the darkness is still there. It still tries to pull me down, but I am oblivious to its efforts. All I can hear is my father's voice. He tells me stories.

What is he saying? He is asking me if I can remember when I was an elfling. He asks whether I can remember the great storm.

I didn't think of that day until now. Over the centuries, those precious moments have slipped out of my mind. I didn't think to treasure them like my father has done.

I listen to him talk about that day. How could I forget? I remember running through the forest for ages. I thought I could hear the trees crying. Little did I know that they were rejoicing in the rain.

"And do you know what sat at the base of the fallen tree, covered in mud?"

Yes I do. I remember sitting there, sniffing quietly. I remember the shame that I felt when you found me, Adar. I had seen how proud and stern you were, and I felt like a disappointment.

And then I remember you sitting down. I remember clambering into your lap, and you, not caring about your best robes, holding me until I stopped crying. I remember it all.

I am sorry, Adar. I am sorry that I forgot this day. I promise I will never forget it again.

I can remember my crown of flowers that you made me. I can remember the stories that you told me. I can remember the old tree that we sat on. I remember how I understood that the forest was not ugly because it had been scarred. You taught me that, no matter what happens to the forest, it will always be beautiful, because it will always be our forest. It will always be home.

But wait. You talk of more stories, stories of Earendil. How could I forget these too? I suppose I never forgot. I just did not remember these stories throughout the centuries. They sat in the back of my mind, gathering dust. But one tug and it all comes back to me.

I hear your voice again. I want to reply. Do I have the strength?

Your hand squeezes mine.

0-o-0-o-0

Tears formed in Thranduil's eyes as a sudden memory struck him. "Can you remember what I said to you? Can you remember what I told you, as we sat out there in the forest, watching the stars?"

The tears now fell slowly down Thranduil's face as he whispered, his voice broken. "I told you… I told you that no matter how dark the night is, you can always find light-"

"-If you look up for the stars."

Thranduil felt someone squeeze his hand. He looked up into the eyes of his son.

0-o-0-o-0

In that moment, Thranduil was certain his heart had stopped. The heavy despair that had settled in him all but flew away. Hope returned. Thranduil leaned forwards, gently stroking his son's face. "Legolas!" he cried. "I was so worried, ion-nin. Never do this to me again!"

Legolas tried to smile weakly. He watched as a silver tear slowly trickled down his father's face. Strangely, it comforted him. He turned his head slightly, grimacing as the simple movement sent sharp waves of pain up his body. Thranduil squeezed his hand gently, his brow creasing with concern. "What is it?" he asked. "What is wrong?"

"It hurts" whispered Legolas, his face a grimace.

Thranduil sighed. "Oh, ion-nin" he whispered. "Why does this always have to happen to you?"

Legolas tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Adar" he whispered.

Thranduil glared at him fiercely. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Legolas" he said sternly. "The darkness is not your fault, you know that. You do everything that you can do, and even though it scares me to death when you put your life on the line for the forest, I am so proud."

Legolas tried to turn his head away, but Thranduil pulled him back gently. "Do you remember the story of Earendil, ion-nin?" he asked. "He always had hope. Hope that he would succeed. We must all hold onto hope."

Legolas sighed. "I just wish things would go back to the way they were."

Thranduil smiled slightly. "So do I" he said. "But they cannot. Not until we have vanquished this shadow. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Legolas chuckled slightly. "That sounds poetic" he said. "Who did you get that from?"

Thranduil smiled briefly. "Mithrandir" he said. "He is full of that stuff."

Legolas sighed, and neither of them spoke for a while. Eventually Legolas opened his mouth. "I know we have to keep fighting" he said. "And in the midst of all this despair, I forgot that there is always light and beauty there. I forgot to look up at the stars."

He looked at his father, tears now forming in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I forgot Adar" he whispered. "I promise I won't ever forget again."

"Neither will I" said Thranduil. He leaned back into the chair next to Legolas' bed. "Go to sleep" he said. "And don't think about disobeying. I may be your father, but I am also your king, and I can order you about."

Legolas chuckled slightly as he closed his eyes. "That has never stopped me before" he said, drifting off into a deep healing sleep.

Thranduil sighed. The fact that his son, infamous for escaping from the healing wards, had fallen asleep so easily was troubling. He looked down at Legolas. He slept with his eyes closed, a sure sign of weariness among the elves. A faint smile tugged at Thranduil's lips. He would be alright. He leaned back, and went to sleep for the first time in days.

Elladan and Elrohir came back into the room some time later. What they saw made them smile in relief.

Legolas was fast asleep, curled on his side in his bed. Beside him sat Thranduil. He was slumped in his chair and his eyes were glazed as he wandered in elven dreams. His hand still reached out, clasping Legolas'.

The twins smiled at each other. Without a word, they moved over, carefully pulling the covers over Legolas and covering Thranduil in a soft blanket. They looked one last time at the two exhausted elves, before gently shutting the door on father and son.

The End

Elvish translations:

Ion-nin- my son

Adar- father

(Mithrandir, in case you didn't know, is what the elves call Gandalf)