Hello there. So this is a fluffy one shot that bit me and wouldn't let go. Please enjoy.
The pain burned hot. Hot as the fires in which it was born.
Lord Thranduil leaned back in the chair of his study and closed his eyes against the pain. By the reckoning of most races in Middle Earth, the gaping wound that claimed the left side of the elf's face was quite old…yet its sting still lingered from time to time. At moments such as these the glamour he wore was a particular strain. He despised showing such a weakness as his vacant, white eye portrayed, never mind the ugliness of the sunken hole in his cheek. The glamour was a near permanent fixture.
Still, the king was currently involved in idle paperwork that had been mounting for several weeks – letters and concerns that required his eyes alone. The guards and attendants knew to disturb him only at their own peril during such times. Thranduil loathed to be interrupted as he thought, and his wrath had been duly noted. There would be small risk in allowing the facade to fade for a little while.
Thranduil rested his head against his hand and bid the magic to abate. The momentary transition elicited a bitter hiss from the regal elf's lips, but otherwise the relief was instant. His cheek still ached with the memory of its undoing, but the pain had significantly diminished. The respite, even if not full, was deeply welcomed and the weary king sighed as he sunk his head deeper into his cradling palm. A moment's rest would harm no one.
The soft click of the chamber door startled Thranduil from his sleep. How had he allowed himself to rest so long? With a rush of alarm the elven lord remembered that his accursed disfiguration was entirely visible to the naked eye. Swiftly he slid into the shadows the setting sun had intermittently cast throughout the room before the new occupant gained full view of the king. There were few elves who would dare enter the king's chamber unannounced. One elf, in fact. His elf. Legolas.
"Ada," called the elfling. "Ada, are you in here?"
Thranduil watched as Legolas padded into the room. He held the far off hope that his son would not see him lingering in the darkened corner, but the young one's eyes were already too keen.
"There you are," he giggled. "Why do you hide? Are we playing a game?"
For a moment, the king thought to reform the glamour and humor Legolas' innocent question, but now that the shock of being abruptly woken had gone, the throbbing ache in his cheek had returned with a vengeance. To construct the illusion again would only deepen the pain. More importantly, however, he did not wish to lie to his son. As the prince of the woodland realm Legolas would need to be aware of his king's weakness – the gross disfiguration of his cheek and the milky eye that stared blankly at nothing. And yet…Thranduil had not desired to reveal it so soon. His son would think him a monster.
"We do not play a game, little leaf," Thranduil slowly replied. "I will step into the light, but you must try not to be afraid."
Apprehension and confusion gripped the small elf's features. "I would not fear you, Ada," he replied trying his best to sound brave.
In a move uncharacteristically hesitant for any elf kind, Thranduil stepped out into the last dying rays of the sun. His face was the last thing the light touched. A soft gasp sprang unbidden from Legolas's mouth. "Ada, you're hurt!" he cried.
Thranduil sighed and knelt to be at eye level with his son. "I was hurt long ago and this is but the remnant," he said. "You may come closer if you wish."
With wide eyes Legolas timidly tiptoed to his father. Upon reaching the elder elf he gazed at the left cheek while quirking his head one way and then another as if searching for something. Thranduil knew that look well. His little leaf was so curious about the world and yearned to know how it worked. "What troubles you, ion-nin?" he asked, though he feared the answer.
"May I touch your cheek?" The request was strange and unexpected. In the past, most who saw the wound kept their distance as they attempted not to stare. Certainly no one had asked to touch it. Thranduil simply nodded to which the young elf instantly reached for his father's face. His touch was feather soft and gentle in the way only a child's could be. For a few moments he stroked the torn flesh and his hand ghosted over the unseeing eye. Soon, another question formed in his mind. "Does it hurt, Ada?"
Once again, Thranduil sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes," he answered. "Sometimes it hurts very much."
Legolas tilted his head. "Does it hurt now?" he asked.
Thranduil nodded once but left his eyes closed. The turn in conversation had brought his attention back to the pain, and the burden his son would now share a part of. He hated it and he loathed himself for being so careless with it.
Suddenly, he felt a different sensation brush his cheek. Light lips tapped what remained of the tattered skin in what was unmistakably a kiss. Legolas had kissed the wound. Thranduil's eyes sprung open to stare at his son. For once, the eloquent king was at a loss for words. His son looked at him with a hopeful smile upon his face.
"Does that feel better, Ada?" he asked so innocently.
Thranduil was so taken off guard that he could only manage a simple "what" in reply.
The little elf continued undaunted. "Whenever I was hurt, you or Naneth would kiss the hurt to make it better," he said. "So, did the kiss help?"
An unbidden smile graced Thranduil's face. He gazed adoringly at his young child and marveled at the kindness and courage he found there. "Yes, my little leaf," he answered as he wrapped his arms around his elfling. "It feels much better." And to his surprise and great joy, it did.
So, what did ya think? Reviews are always welcome. Please and thank you.