Disclaimer: Those you recognize belong to Tolkien. I do not own them. Everyone you do not recognize belong to me.

Summary: He was warned to never go to the cursed hill. But when Thranduil disobeys his father's orders to see if the stories are true, a single event from Oropher's past threatens the life of his young son.

Author's Note: Hey, and I'm back! Glad I seemed to catch a lot of you guys off guard with the Dwarves! What do they want with Thranduil? Well, there might be some more questions and answers here, lol. Thanks so much to The Pearl Maiden, Gwedhiel0117, doreenthatshot, and Elven Warrior Princess for your reviews! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter, and I will pass on your hugs to Thranduil, lol! Since I broke up chapter two a little bit, there is some new material in this chapter that originally wasn't going to be here, but I like how it turned out so much better since I think it helps the plot along, as well as explores Oropher and Thranduil's relationship a little bit. So now that Oropher is on his way, what'll happen next? We'll have to find out ;) Thanks, guys! Hope you enjoy!

Elvish:

ion-nín- my son
ada- father
nana- mom
tithen pen- little one

Chapter 3

Oropher removed his drenched cloak and carefully hung it over the chair in his study to dry. The steady rainfall that had persisted over the past few days, which had made his journey home a bit unpleasant, pounded against the window as a flash of lightning split the dark sky, a low rumble of thunder following soon after as the king pulled his fair, water-logged hair into a ponytail behind his head. He sighed, passing a ringed hand over his face as he leaned heavily on his desk, closing his eyes.

However, it was not only the dreadful weather that had burdened his heart. Not after what had happened.

A quiet knock on his door was heard over the downpour outside. Oropher responded with a simple "Mmm," not minding who would wish to disturb him when he had just returned to the palace. He was exhausted. Surely the matter could not be too important.

The door opened, and the king only opened his eyes when he felt whoever had entered stop before his desk. A concerned Aearion stood across from him, his light eyes looking over him closely. "Oropher, I-!"

But his advisor was abruptly interrupted when Oropher suddenly gasped as he straightened up, his eyes slightly wide. "My son? How fares my son?" He had been reluctant to leave his wife and newborn son due to his rough birth for the obligated duty he had, and he had not left until he knew for certain the tiny prince would be all right. But he was still greatly concerned.

Aearion gave him a small smile. "He is well, Oropher," he told him gently, causing the monarch to sigh with clear relief. "He has been sleeping well in your absence, though not through a night yet."

"I must see him," Oropher muttered, pushing himself away from the desk.

The advisor nodded once, what he had been there to report forgotten about as the king hurried past him and out of the study. His friend's family came first after all.

Oropher hurried down the hallway despite Aearion's words, slowing to a stop only when he reached the room he shared with his wife. He quietly opened the door without hesitation before stepping inside and shutting it just as quietly behind him. He then turned to face the dark bedroom, his light eyes scanning over the cradle they had set up on the opposite wall before they landed on their bed across from it. A slight smile tugged at the corner of the king's lips when he saw his wife stretched out at the end of it nearest the crib, her eyes closed in exhaustion with one hand hanging off one end of the bed and her feet off the other.

Silently, Oropher picked up a blanket from their divan near the door before he made his way to the bed and carefully draped it over his wife, ensuring her feet were covered, to keep her warm. She did not stir, though a hint of a smile appeared on her face when he leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. Clearly, the rough childbirth had taken its toll on her, as had caring for their infant son while he was gone. The king tenderly brushed a loose strand of her light hair behind her ear, sighing with concern.

Then, he looked over his shoulder at the cradle across from him. Once he was sure his wife was resting peacefully, Oropher straightened and crossed the room, a relieved smile appearing on his face when he saw the sleeping Elfling. He was so small with scarce traces of fair hair, his tiny hands curled into fists. The monarch slowly reached into the crib and carefully covered his son with the blanket more to ensure he was warm enough, lightly setting a couple fingers on his arm.

"I would have been here if I could have been," Oropher whispered, mainly to himself. He knew his duty as king, knew he had obligations to uphold, and though he had been gone for what normally wouldn't have been too long of a time, it still bothered him that he had not been with his wife and newborn son when it mattered most. "But I am here now."

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning completely lit the dark room, a loud crash of thunder echoing through the walls of the palace. The Elfling beneath his fingertips began to whimper, his wife beginning to stir soon after when she heard her son's distress.

However, Oropher reached down and carefully picked up their small child, making sure his head was supported as he held him close to his chest securely but gently. What power this being had over him he did not believe he would ever know, for simply holding his son eased his troubled mind as a thin line of tears formed in his eyes. "Shh, ion-nín," the king soothed quietly, brushing his fingers lightly over the Elfling's head. "It's all right. Ada's here. You are safe. Shh..."

Oropher began to walk with his son away from the window and the storm raging outside, and a slight smile crossed his face when the tiny Elf's whimpers slowly trailed off, one of his small hands grabbing onto his tunic while he buried his face in his father's chest. The king glanced back at his wife at the end of their bed, seeing she was lying still once more. His smile broadened as he then sat on the divan, making sure the precious bundle he held in his arms was wrapped comfortably in his blanket as he leaned back against the arm rest.

"Rest easy, Thranduil."

Oropher absently watched the dark rapids of the Duilwen rush past him, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the base of Amon Sereg. He would never forget the first time he had held Thranduil in his arms during that storm since after his rough, early birth, he immediately had to be placed in the care of the palace's healers. It had been one of the darkest hours of the king's life while he had waited with his wife to learn the fate of their son, uncertain if he would survive. And now, knowing his Elfling was in danger once more, he wished to shield him from whatever threatened him now, just as he had that first night.

Aearion, who had finished finalizing their plan with Thalion, turned to look at his lord and friend standing near the river with concern for a moment before he made his way over. "You know the plan, Oropher," he said.

Another moment passed before Oropher glanced back at his advisor, his uncertain gaze hardening as he nodded once. "Aye." He then looked up at the rock ledge above them, now able to faintly hear the gruff voices of who he assumed to be Thranduil's captors. The king glanced back at Aearion and Thalion as they pulled the hoods of their dark riding cloaks over their heads before he slowly did the same.

It would not be much longer before his son was out of harm's way.


Thranduil hesitated outside the tall set of double doors before him for only a moment before he pushed on the one which was already open a crack, slowly stepping into the dark room. His gaze saddened slightly when he turned to the window. His father, normally so proud, was sitting tensely in the chair in front of it, his pale face void of expression as he stared out into the night. The confidence was gone from his sharp gaze, the commanding presence depleted from this now slightly slouched figure. This was not the noble king of Greenwood. This was not his father.

The young prince sighed quietly, forcing back the tears that threatened to rise to his eyes. He had never once seen his father in this state, though he should have almost expected it. That day had been hard for both of them, for they had to watch his mother, the one his father loved as his equal and partner, leave them. She had told them she would always love them despite her actions, but the memories of what had transpired in the halls of the palace were too painful for her to bear, for she had witnessed her father give his life to save Oropher's, his final act causing her mother to leave for Valinor. The king had been left with no choice other than to allow her to leave, though she had left them with no word on whether she would return to Greenwood.

"Ada?" Thranduil asked with concern.

Oropher glanced over his shoulder at his son, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Thranduil," he muttered, his voice, which had contained little to no feeling since his wife's departure, lifting slightly.

Thranduil slowly walked toward his father, stopping beside him and studying his face carefully when Oropher met his gaze. The young prince had never seen those blue eyes so empty. It was unnerving.

He then moved closer to the king, tightly wrapping his arms around him and resting his head against his shoulder. Oropher regarded his son for a moment before he wound his arms around Thranduil as well, pulling his small form onto his lap as he sighed heavily.

They sat that way in silence for neither one knew how long, finding comfort in the other's presence. Thranduil kept a tight hold on his father, a thin line of tears forming in his eyes. He had not approached Oropher since his mother had left them, and now that he was safe in the king's arms where he often sought comfort, the strong feelings of abandonment that he had kept contained were beginning to break through the walls of his resolve.

"Ada... Why did Nana leave?" the young prince asked quietly, fighting to keep his tears from falling.

"Her reasons for departing Greenwood are her own," Oropher answered just as quietly as though speaking any louder would compromise his current strength. "She felt as though she had to, tithen pen. I could not deny her request."

Thranduil bit his lip for a moment, a couple tears escaping from his eyes despite his best efforts to restrain them. He had seen how upset his mother had seemed as of late, but he did not understand why she would abandon them. Couldn't they have helped her?

Fear then gripped the prince's heart. "Ada, did I do something wrong?" Thranduil pressed anxiously, tightening his hand on his father's light tunic as more tears fell from his eyes. "Does she not love me?"

Oropher stiffened slightly at his son's inquiry, slowly tightening his arms around him. "Do not believe for one moment your mother does not love you, ion-nín," he told him firmly, holding the Elfling close. "She loves you more than anyone in this world, as do I. Do not forget that, Thranduil. Do not ever forget that."

Thranduil's tears now fell freely, though they rolled ignored down his cheeks. His mother had claimed she loved him, his father echoing her words, but she had still left. Why? His mind was reeling, unable to focus on one particular thought. He felt abandoned. He felt guilty. He was furious. He was heartbroken. He was confused. He longed for his mother.

"Will... will Nana return, Ada?" the prince wondered softly, his tone containing no feeling as he attempted to decide which emotion he should focus on.

"I... I know not, tithen pen," Oropher muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

Surprised by the uncertainty of the king's normally steady voice, Thranduil slowly looked up into his face. Oropher was looking back at him with a hint of a smile crossing his features, his light eyes moist. In the gentle moonlight, the prince watched as a single tear rolled down his father's cheek.

Thranduil sat still against the cave wall. His tears had stopped some time ago as he blankly stared at the night sky across from him. How he longed to feel the wind, to hear the voices of the trees, to be free from these chains in this dark, enclosed place. How he longed for his father, to feel secure enfolded in his arms once more.

Then, he slowly looked up when he heard nearing footsteps in time to see Throri appear at the top of the stone staircase. His eyes widened fearfully when he saw the axe in his hands.

The young Elf shrunk back against the rock wall behind him when the brown-bearded Dwarf approached, causing him to growl in irritation. "Hold still," Throri snapped as he raised the weapon.

Realizing he had nowhere to go, Thranduil closed his eyes and turned his face away. If this was to be his end, he knew he should have bravely faced it as the prince he was. As his father would have done. But he was too afraid, and he knew he was not only bringing shame to himself by admitting it.

However, he never felt the blade. Instead, his arms dropped to his sides, one after the other, as the axe cut the chains that were restraining him. Thranduil cautiously opened his eyes and looked down on his hands, seeing the cuffs were still tight around his wrists, but at least he was not trapped to the wall anymore. The muscles in his shoulders protested to the sudden movement after cramping from being in one position for what felt like a long passage of time, and he rolled them out to try to loosen them.

"Galin wants to see you," Throri added, reaching out and roughly taking Thranduil's arm as he pulled him to his feet before dragging him to the staircase behind him.

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, Throri shoved him forward, and Thranduil winced when he threw his hands out to catch himself as he landed on his knees near the fire. He turned them upward, seeing the small scrapes covering his palms from the rough treatment over the course of the time he had been in captivity. Then, he raised his gaze when a foot landed in front of him, seeing the black-bearded Dwarf was smirking down on him.

"What a joy it is to see the prince of Greenwood kneeling before me," Galin said, his eyes gleaming as the other three Dwarves laughed.

Thranduil felt a surge of anger, which was enough to push himself to his feet. "I would never bow to you!" he replied heatedly.

Throri and the red-bearded brothers Drorin and Dworin reached for the young Elf, but Galin raised a hand to stop them. "Let him be," he told them quietly before turning his dark gaze back to the seething Thranduil. "It is not you, wretch, who I ultimately desire to have kneeling before me."

His anger slowly slipping away, Thranduil gazed back at the Dwarf with mounting horror. But then, he caught a glimpse of movement from behind Galin, seeing a dark figure with a hood covering their face was crouched at the edge of the rock ledge, just out of the light of the fire. For a moment, his heart raced, remembering the stories of spirits that were said to linger in Amon Sereg. He had always believed this place truly wasn't cursed, but now, he wasn't so sure.

However, he was not the only one to see this mysterious figure.

Either Drorin or Dworin, the prince was unsure which, cried out with fear and pointed behind Galin. "What is that?" he asked fearfully.

Galin quickly turned around as Thranduil followed his gaze, and the latter was surprised to see the figure was no longer there. But, he realized, spirit or not, he could use their unease to his advantage.

"It is said this place is cursed," he said quietly, using the same tone he had when he had told this story to his friends.

"Cursed?" The other red-bearded brother sounded just as nervous as the first.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder at them, a slight smile on his face. "This used to be a post for our guards," he explained. "One night, they were ambushed, though no one knows by what. A violent struggle cost many their lives. Our guards took their attackers captive and tortured them without mercy in the cave where you kept me. Many were killed, but one night, the prisoners escaped and slaughtered the guards in their sleep before they fled." He paused, seeing his words were having the desired effect on the two brothers.

"They say those who were killed here still linger, seeking revenge for their unjust deaths," he concluded, dropping his voice even more, "taking the form of figures in black."

Drorin and Dworin exchanged concerned looks while Thranduil turned away with a slight smirk, purposely describing what he and the brothers had seen. However, Galin laughed loudly.

"A mere child's story," he boasted confidently. "We have traveled here for some time and have not seen any spirits."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly, wondering just how long the Dwarves had been breaching Greenwood's borders without being detected. It was clear the dark-bearded Dwarf had some grudge against his father, and for a moment, he feared what could have happened if they had gotten much closer to the city.

The brothers were not convinced, however, as they glared at Thranduil. "The wretch drew them out!" Drorin shouted, ignoring the startled look the prince gave him. "He's an Elf!"

Galin rolled his eyes, but it was Throri who was spurred into action. "I believe in no spirit," he muttered, holding his axe tightly in his hands as he passed the small group. "Watch and see. Whatever you saw is flesh and blood."

Thranduil watched anxiously as the brown-bearded Dwarf disappeared out of the light of the fire to confront the alleged spirit. A short moment passed before the young Elf jumped when a gruff, panicked yell rang out through the night.

Drorin and Dworin stiffened while Galin's eyes narrowed angrily. "Throri!" he shouted, but he got no response. The head Dwarf then roughly grabbed Thranduil's arm and pulled him forward with him as he walked to the edge of the rock ledge, startled to see the Dwarf in question lying on the grass beneath them.

"Are you all right?" Galin called out.

"Ye... yes..." came the dazed response from Throri. "I... I was shoved..."

Growling angrily, Galin pulled Thranduil back to the fire and the red-bearded brothers, who were now pale-faced and wide-eyed, and shoved him forcefully to the ground. The young Elf winced when he landed hard on his left arm, rolling onto his back to look up at the three Dwarves towering over him.

"I do not know what is happening here, but it is not a spirit!" Galin snapped. To take out his frustration, he kicked the vulnerable Elf in the side. Thranduil curled up in response, attempting to protect his midsection as he closed his eyes tightly to stop himself from making a sound. But when the Dwarf's foot came down on his tender arm, the prince couldn't stop a pained cry from breaking through his lips.

Suddenly, Drorin and Dworin shouted fearfully. Galin turned his attention away from Thranduil, his eyes widening slightly when he saw all that was left of them was their axes in the light of the fire. He grabbed Thranduil by the hair and pulled him to his feet, though he could not stand completely, and dragged him over to the other edge of the ledge, the young Elf dropping to his knees. The red-bearded brothers were both in the clearing below, seeming disoriented as they sat up. They had also been shoved.

Furious now, Galin cried out as he moved back into the light and stood with his back to the fire, holding the weary Thranduil in front of him almost as a shield. "Whatever you are," he murmured to the darkness as he looked frantically around him, his voice rising, "show yourself!"

There was a quiet footstep to his left, and Galin quickly turned to where Throri had been tossed off the ledge, wrapping his arm around Thranduil's neck and pulling the young Elf close to him as he ignored his attempts to free his throat from his tight grasp. The black-bearded Dwarf took a step back when a tall figure in a dark cloak stepped into the light from the fire, a hood concealing the face.

"It is some spirit..." Galin whispered in disbelief, tightening his arm around Thranduil's neck slightly as he brought him around the fire.

There was a quiet laugh from the dark-cloaked figure, and the prince's eyes slowly opened at the sound. "Not entirely."

Hardly daring to believe he was hearing the familiar deep voice, Thranduil's eyes widened as the figure pulled back the hood, revealing the fair but furious features of the king of Greenwood. "Ada!"

Oropher's gaze softened slightly as he gazed at his injured son, but it hardened just as quickly when Thranduil gasped as Galin cut off his breath even more. "Release him," he said firmly, fury laced heavily in his tone.

However, Galin only laughed. "Oropher, Oropher. You come so easily for your wretch here," he replied, tauntingly running his fingers over Thranduil's cheek. "Pity you do not do the same for all."

The king stiffened when he watched Thranduil attempt to turn his head away from the Dwarf, but then, his eyes widened in recognition as he looked at his face a bit more carefully. "You."

Galin turned his dark eyes to the stunned Elf. "You recognize me now, Oropher?" he asked quietly.

Oropher stared at the dark-bearded Dwarf for a long moment, shaking his head slightly before the anger returned to his gaze. "It was out of my control, Galin," he answered quietly but sternly. "My son has no part in what transpired."

"No," Galin agreed thoughtfully as he looked at the struggling Thranduil. "But he has brought me you."

Before Oropher could form a response, another dark-cloaked figure stepped out from the ledge across from him, revealing the light-haired captain Thalion, who appeared just as angry as the king as he twirled his sword once. Then, a third light-haired Elf appeared beside Oropher, instantly concerned when he saw Thranduil was still in danger.

"The other three Dwarves have been caught and bound, hír-nín," Aearion announced, casting a pointed glance Galin's way. "They will be tried on the morrow."

Oropher nodded, satisfied with this news, as he met Galin's dark gaze. "Release my son," he repeated, his tone dangerously quiet as he slowly reached for his own sword. "We will give you one more chance to come quietly."

Galin continued to back away from the three Elves with Thranduil, glancing behind him when he felt the cliff drop away beneath his heel. His gaze landed on the rushing water beneath him, and his dark eyes gleamed as he slowly turned back to the king. "And be tried and executed for trespassing in Greenwood all this time and endangering her prince?" he said mockingly. "I think not, Oropher. The punishment for trespassing on your lands would have been severe enough without threatening your son's life."

Thranduil glanced down at the Duilwen River as well, fear gripping his heart when he realized what the Dwarf had in mind. He quickly turned back to his three rescuers, anxiously reaching a hand out to Oropher. "Ada, help!" he shouted.

A split second too late, Oropher realized what Galin had planned. "No! Thranduil!" He hurried forward, reaching for the prince's outstretched hand.

But Galin had already jumped, and the king's fingers only brushed against his son's as the Dwarf disappeared over the ledge with the young Elf, both falling into the rushing river below.

Author's Note: Um... stress with school = cliffhangers? No? I tried :P Lol! Now that you're ready to strangle me... Haha, I know I'm evil, lol. So close, yet so far! What'll happen next? We'll see! Thanks for reading, guys! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thanks!