Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for whatever you don't recognize.
A/N: Wow you guys. I can't tell you how happy I am to receive such ongoing support from everyone. I know I've only got 8 reviews (and that's nothing compared to other stories) but to me, your kind words and encouragement really help. So thank you all so much. Ok… now on to chapter three! Enjoy! P.S. Italics mean a memory.
Chapter 3
King Thranduil sat at his desk, looking, but not truly seeing the reports in front of him. His mind was elsewhere, focused on happier times; before his beloved wife had sailed west across the sea and his only child had gone on a quest that could very well claim his life.
It was spring and Legolas had just learned to walk. He and his wife were sitting outside in one of the palace gardens. Legolas was between them, toddling unsteadily from parent to parent. Thranduil had looked up into his wife's sparkling blue eyes. The sunlight had caught her hair, making the blonde locks shine more brilliantly than the sun itself. She'd laughed as Legolas stumbled into her arms and giggled happily. His son then turned and walked shakily into his father's arms. 'He has his mother's smile.' Thranduil remembered thinking to himself. "Ada!" Legolas had said to his father's face.
Thranduil remembered crying that day too, but those had been different tears. Those were tears of joy, he thought bitterly, as he angrily swiped at the wetness on his cheeks. 'Get a hold of yourself! Legolas is not dead. He is merely on quest to save all of Middle Earth.' Thranduil smiled grimly to himself. 'That made me fell loads better.' He thought sarcastically.
A knock sounded at his study door. "Enter!" He called, hastily wiping the remaining tears off his cheeks. Tathlogar came in, his fair features uncharacteristically grim.
"Your majesty, it's the child. She has finally awoken." He said solemnly.
"That should be cause for great happiness, Tathlogar, not this grim face I see before me." Thranduil answered, slightly confused. "What is it that has you so distressed?"
"It is her eyes, my lord. They are filled with such pain. It is very difficult to look into them for very long without breaking down yourself."
Thranduil's own eyes narrowed in thought. "Take me to her." He commanded quietly. Tathlogar nodded and preceded him out the door.
They walked silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally they reached the healer's hall. Tathlogar stopped and looked uncertainly at the doors in front of them.
"You go ahead. I…I don't think I could-"
"It's alright." Thranduil interrupted, placing a gentle hand on the other elf's shoulder. "Go."
"Thank you, your majesty. It is hard to see such pain in one so young."
Thranduil smiled and nodded. "Go." He repeated.
Tathlogar glanced one last time at the doors, bowed to his king, and walked slowly down the hallway. Thranduil watched him go, puzzled as to how a warrior such as Tathlogar would be so affected by seeing a fellow elf in pain. Tathlogar was young, yes, but he was no green soldier. He'd seen his share of horrors on and off the battlefield.
Thranduil shrugged and pushed open the doors. At once the head healer, Ansgarth, came to him and bowed his head respectfully.
"Your majesty, I assume you are here to see the child that was brought in nearly a week ago." When Thranduil nodded his head affirmatively, Ansgarth led him to a bed on the far side of the hall.
"I have done everything I know how to do for her." The healer said. "She had no physical wounds on her when Tathlogar brought her in. It is her heart that needs the healing, and there are no remedies for that; except for what love others may provide for her." Ansgarth finished as he stopped beside a bed that held a small child wrapped in blankets.
The child was turned away from Thranduil on her side. All he could see of her was a mass tangled black hair. He motioned with a small flick of his hand for Ansgarth to leave the two of them alone. The healer nodded and returned to his other patients.
"Child." Thranduil called softly.
No reply.
He frowned slightly, circled around the bed, and knelt so that he was at eye level with the small elfling. Her eyes were shut tightly and her arms were wrapped firmly about herself. Thranduil reached out one hand and brushed dark hair away from her small face. At the contact, the child's eyes opened wide and pinned the King in his place.
Thranduil gasped. This small elfling's dark blue eyes spoke volumes. They showed him such anguish, such sorrow, that his own heart constricted painfully within his chest. The grief in the elfing's eyes screamed silently, pleading for someone to do something, to make everything go back to the way it once was. The pain in those eyes was so immense, the suffering so fierce, Thranduil's breath was stolen from his lungs. Her blue eyes tortured him with their agony and sent chills down his spine.
Then the small child blinked. The spell that the elfling's eyes had put him under shattered and Thranduil started.
"Oh my child," Thranduil whispered brokenly. He tentatively held his arms out to her. She looked at him questioningly for a long moment. Just when Thranduil was about to lower his arms in defeat, she sat up, looked into his eyes and launched herself into his arms. She clung to him with all the strength her small body possessed. Thranduil hugged her tiny body closer when he felt her begin to shake with silent sobs. He felt the front of his tunic begin to dampen with the child's tears.
"Shhhh. I am here child. I will not leave you." He whispered to her as he slowly rocked her back and forth.
Thranduil knew not how long the elfing cried or how long he held her until finally all her tears were spent. He just embraced her until she turned her small face up to his. The pain in her dark blue eyes was still there and it grieved Thranduil to see it, but he suspected it would take this poor child many long years to overcome her great sadness.
"What is your name child?" He asked her softly. She did not speak. "Everyone has a name. Come, will you not tell me yours?"
Again his question was only met with silence.
"Well, I shall have to give you one then." And hoping to make the sad elfling laugh, he said, "Shall I call you Lady Frog Belly?"
No answer except for the smallest wrinkling of her nose.
"No? Well then, how about Lady Pig's Feet?"
Still no reply apart from the child's lips compressing into one thin line.
Thranduil smiled slightly and thought for many moments, gazing at the small child cradled in his arms. His eyes took in her porcelain face, large haunted blue eyes, and long black hair.
"How about Talar?" He asked quietly. The elfling merely blinked and kept her gaze focused intently upon Thranduil's face. He took that as acquiescence and hugged her closer.
"Talar it is then. Welcome to Mirkwood, little Talar."
A/N: Alright! So I've named our little elfling. I searched and searched to find an appropriate elvish name for her on the internet and couldn't find anything suitable. And then the name Talar popped into my head and I thought, 'Why not?' I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I will try updating again soon. Oh and I have a question for you guys who are reading this: How long was Legolas traveling with the Fellowship? I need to know for the story.
Thanks for reading!
Heart's Whisper