Thranduil paced up and down the length of his room, playing with a ball of fire. Cinwe sat in the armchair, her hands clasped in her lap.
"You have noticed how tired Legolas looks," she said.
Thranduil nodded. "Yes. I fear he is having bad dreams."
"Or studying too hard," Cinwe added. "I saw light coming from his room. Tell him to sleep. I will be waiting for you when you return. Tuck him, will you?"
Thranduil dropped his hand and the ball of fire fizzled out. He stepped out of the room and walked up the hall to Legolas's door. He knew Brenen, Realn, and Mykar were cuddled together in their bed and their candles were out. He knocked on the door and waited in silence for a reply. Receiving no reply after the second knock, he opened the door and walked into the room. A pitying smile came to his lips. Legolas was fast asleep, his head resting on a pile of papers. The quill had fallen from his hands to the floor. Legolas's fingers had knocked over a bottle of red ink and the liquid had run down his shirt.
Thranduil placed a hand on Legolas's shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. His son awoke with a jump, stuttering and stammering, wiping his hands on his shirt. "I-I-ada?"
"Come to bed, ion nin," Thranduil said with a smile.
Legolas bowed his head. What could he do? Ada would burn the flesh from his bones if he disobeyed. But Eigil would punish him if he did not complete his homework—his homework! Oh, no, no, no!
A small cry escaped Legolas. Red ink soaked through his papers, blurring the writing, destroying all his work. There was no time to re-do it. Eigil would—would—dread filled his stomach.
Thranduil regarded his son in puzzlement. Legolas seemed terrified. "Tithen las, Eigil will forgive you if you explain to him what happened. After all, you have been studying hard and I am sure he will understand you knocked over the inkbottle without intention. Now you need a good night's rest."
As he rose from his chair and stumbled toward his bed, Legolas clung to the hope ada's words must be true. Eigil would forgive him. He changed into a clean shirt and climbed into bed. As Thranduil leaned over him to kiss his forehead and tuck the blankets around him, grief welled up inside Legolas. He wished ada would be this kind to him all the time; forbid Eigil from hurting him. He did not understand how ada could display his love for him so openly knowing he had ordered Eigil to beat him.
"Goodnight, little leaf," Thranduil said, as he stepped out of the room and closed the door. "I love you."
The door closed. Legolas dissolved into tears, his confusion erupting in grief. He sobbed into the scrunched up form of his pillow until it was soaked through. In a puddle of salty sadness, he fell asleep, haunted by dreams of another day of torture.
Legolas opened his eyes and squinted at the sunlight filtering through the window. Groaning as he crawled from bed, the wounds on his back stretching, he changed into the dark clothes he so despised but must wear. As he reached out of habit for his homework, his fingers touched empty air. He stopped and remembered the red ink. He swallowed, dreading having to face Eigil yet knowing he must. Clinging to the hope ada's words were true and Eigil would forgive him, Legolas dragged his tired feet to his classroom.
But his hopes were shattered, breaking into red and black. When he tried to explain to Eigil what had happened, his teacher fell upon him, savagely beating him to the floor. Legolas flung up his arms as he fell, curling into a tight ball, tears dripping over his arms and falling to the floor. Eigil had never punished him with such brutality. He begged, he pleaded for Eigil to stop for he could not stand the pain. It caused red and black to swim dizzily in his vision, and sadness to pervade his heart. Ada had lied to him! he lay on the floor, unable to fight back, and sink away into blackness.
Eigil said as Legolas lost consciousness, "Have you no sense? Idiocy is rewarded with punishment! You should have done your homework. You should have stayed awake. I will not tolerate weakness!"
Legolas shifted as Eigil walked in circles around him. The pain from the savage punishment administered a few days ago for failing to turn in his homework still nagged at him, piercing his heart like a knife. His whole body ached, trembling with exhaustion and pain. And yet still his torture went on.
"Hold still!" Eigil snapped.
"Yes, sir," Legolas said.
"Question Five: Who are the valar?"
Legolas tried hard to focus but sleepiness had dragged him down through the quiz, blurring the answers in his memory. He knew what would happen to him if he failed to answer the question but even his burning fear could not sharpen his mind. His tongue slipped over the explanation.
The whip snapped down. "I am afraid that is not correct," Eigil sad sweetly.
Legolas shuddered. So much pain . . . his feet slipped and the floor rushed up into his face. His body hit something hard, digging into his ribs. He felt wet blood streaming from his nose as he fainted.
Whimpering, Legolas opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor, the blood from his nose dried beneath him. He groaned as he sat up and blinked. The light of the room was dim and the last rays of evening sunlight filtered through the window. He staggered to his feet and grabbed a hold of the desk before him to keep himself from falling as the world reeled around him.
The dizziness passed and his eyes fell on the pile of papers lying before him. Homework. So much homework. How could he do it all? He glanced around; glad Eigil was not to be seen. A tear sliding down his cheek, he collected the pile and walked to his room. He took each step slowly, to make it worth the agony that exploded in his back. Leaving the papers in his room, he hoped he was not too late for his archery lessons in the field.
Come nightfall, Legolas crawled into his bed and wept. Bitter tears poured down his face. In bed sheets soaked with grief and stained with agony, he fell asleep. But even in sleep, he could not escape his reality. He dreamed of Eigil's savage beating and awoke to wild laughter in his head. With a jolt, he realized he had not done his homework! Despair filled him, pouring out of his eyes. Eigil would flog him again tomorrow! The dread and the urge to escape the punishment forced Legolas out of bed. With shaking fingers, he lit a candle at his desk. How he hated fire. The thought of being burned terrified him, and the knowledge that because he lacked fire, he was a failure tore at him.
Legolas dipped his pen into his inkbottle and wrote out answers to sheet after sheet. The words formed with an effort. The letters blurred beneath his pen. Legolas blinked. His eyes wanted to close; he wanted to sleep. So tired . . . Legolas slumped forward, his cheek smearing the fresh words on the page before him for the ink had yet to dry. His fingers knocked over the candle. It fell sideways as he slept on, setting ablaze a pile of loose paper. The fire rose, licking with pleasure at the walls and floor. The bed went up next.
Legolas awoke as the air grew thick with smoke and the heat was too hot to ignore. He screamed in terror; everywhere there was fire! He fell from his chair, crawling across the burning floor, coughing and choking. He gasped in fresh air as he fell on his face in the hallway. Ada's hands grabbed him and shook him.
"Legolas! Legolas! Tithen las! Are you hurt?"
Legolas blinked, leaning against Thranduil's chest as his father rubbed his back. He felt naneth's hands stroking his hair, whispering softly to him. The fear of answering the question wrong terrified him. Wrong answers were rewarded with punishment. Was he supposed to say he was hurt? Would ada tolerate weakness and injury? Perhaps ada would burn him for giving the wrong answer.
"N-no, ada," Legolas faltered. He hoped he had made the right choice.
Thranduil nodded, kissing Legolas's smoky cheeks. "Thank the valar!" He shifted Legolas to Cinwe's lap and rose to his feet, holding out his arms to embrace the fire burning in his son's room and absorb it into himself. How had the flames begun?
"How did the fire come to commence?" Thranduil asked, kneeling down to his son.
Legolas swallowed, remembering ada's gentle caresses. He looked up into his father's eyes and Cinwe rocked him. "I-I knocked the candle over when I fell asleep . . . I think. I was studying." He could not lie; lying was punished.
"You were . . . studying? At three in the morning? Legolas Greenleaf, what were you thinking? I appreciate the fact you wish to learn but you have crossed the line! Night is for rest! You are not to study at night!"
Legolas cringed in his mother's arms, and she shushed him, running a hand over his ear, sending Thranduil an annoyed look. Legolas felt his heart begin to ache. How would he find time to do all his homework now?
"No, ada, please do not do this to me!"
"End of discussion," Thranduil said. "Would you like to sleep with your brothers?"
"Own room, please," Legolas mumbled.
Cinwe helped him to his feet and guided him to a spare room. He fell into bed and let his mother tuck him in. Alone, he cried without a sound. His homework was destroyed again! Eigil would be furious and he would be punished. He could not do this anymore!
I am afraid you are all going to kill me . . .
