Mask of Innocence


For disclaimer, summary and rating, see Chapter One.

A/N: Mae govannen! Yes, already, another update, but I'm sure most of you won't mind. ;) I'm back at school in less than two weeks now, and I'm beginning to worry already about homework and volleyball (if I make the team!) interfering with posting schedules, so I'm wanting to get as much published as I can. I have currently thirteen chapters after this ready to post, and even if I continue at every two days it will take me almost to September before I catch up with what I'm writing now, and even longer if I post every three days. Not sure you all cared, but I thought I'd inform you anyways.


Chapter Eleven: King vs. Councilor

Several hours later, Thranduil stood silently at his balcony overlooking the forest. A gentle rain had begun to fall, pattering against the king's clothing and skin. He cared not if he became soaked. Nothing mattered anymore, now that they had taken what anchored him in life, what had kept him in Middle-earth.

My child…my precious child…he is gone…and I cannot help him now…Oh Ilúvatar, why must you take him from me? What good will this do?

Squeezing his eyes shut against the hot tears that threatened to overcome him Thranduil saw the face of his little son, smiling at him, once again in his mind. My little Greenleaf, I wish to see you again, one last time. Valar, do not let Legolas suffer at the hands of the Enemy long; do not prolong his death. Let him be in peace. I do not wish for his spirit to be broken. I would see him die quickly, even if it would break my heart. End his misery, please.

Tears now coursed down his cheeks freely, mixing with the cool rain that caressed his face soothingly. His eyes suddenly strayed to the painting of his family, this time his eyes locking upon that of his wife. Her dark locks hung in soft curls about her fair shoulders, her pale flesh luminescent in the faint sunny light that shone down upon the family. Thranduil turned away at the thought of her. It hurt too much to remember, especially now. But yet he recalled how Vanya's touch would always soothe the greatest of his troubles, her kiss would always make him forget the pain and worry. Oh Valar, I need you, meleth. I need you more than anything. Our child is gone. The child you died protecting, the one I collapsed with in my arms when all was quiet on that terrible morning, is gone.

There was a soft knock at his door, and then it swung open with a soft creak. He did not turn around.

"My king, are you all right?"

Thranduil recognized the voice of that of his chief councilor: Saeldur. The Elf had been his advisor for centuries, and Thranduil trusted the councilor's beliefs and advice completely.

"What do you think the answer to that question would be, Saeldur?" Thranduil asked shakily, slowly turning around with tears glistening in his eyes. Saeldur stepped back in surprise at the king's grief-stricken appearance; his face had lost all color and his eyes all radiance.

He is fading.

"I have lost my only child to the same yrch that cut my wife's immortality from her body. Do you think I would be all right after having lost everyone close to me in my life? I will never forget witnessing all the deaths of my father, my mother, and especially my wife, but now…Legolas has been taken from me, ripped out of my heart. I will never see my son again. My precious child, the flame kindled by the love between Vanya and me. I promised her I would raise the child. A lot of good that promise will do now that Legolas is dead," Thranduil finished bitterly, ignoring the look of extreme guilt and anguish that was etched upon Saeldur's face.

"But, my king, Legolas was not dead when the yrch captured him! Captain Imrathon told us-"

"Legolas is as good as dead in the hands of the Orcs, Saeldur. I thought you were wise enough to realize that," Thranduil cut in quietly, turning back to the silence of the forest. "Captain Imrathon is on the verge of insanity, and although the healers tell me he is fading I cannot help but believe that he will linger long enough to know Legolas' true fate. Yes, he told me that Legolas was still alive, but it has been three days since he was captured. No matter his strong heart, I do not think he has the strength and courage to survive even a week in an Orc camp."

"My liege, you must be strong for Legolas. We will bring him back," Saeldur promised softly, begging for his king to understand him.

"He is dead, Saeldur! Dead!" Thranduil shouted, spinning around with tears glistening in his eyes. His voice was rough with unshed tears, his eyes filled with rage. "He is dead! Orcs do not keep their captives alive, especially if they are Elves! They torture them, use them for play and to quench their bloodlust, and once the poor creature is finally granted peace and rest from their torture by death they mutilate the body! Even if, IF they keep a captive alive, they do it only to make him, or even her, may the Valar keep this horrible reality from our women, into one of their own! They turn them in to Orcs, Saeldur! Orcs! That is where their race came from! Our kin, taken by Morgoth, tortured and mutilated until their blackened, gruesome bodies possess no strength or hope to ever see the light or hear Ilúvatar's Song. That is what will happen to my child if he doesn't die! My child, my precious little son, will be turned into an Orc, and I may kill him in a battle later! He is as good as dead, Saeldur! He is gone!"

Weakened now by his rage, Thranduil turned away, hiding his shame and tears from his chief advisor. Saeldur stood silently, gazing sadly at the floor like a child who had just been scolded by his father.

"Goheno nín, my lord. I did not know," Saeldur murmured softly, and turned to go. Thranduil called him back.

"Nay! Nay, you do not have to go, I have not dismissed you," he cried, his voice unsteady even as he struggled to mask his heart-wrenching grief. "Company would do me good."

Saeldur resumed his position of standing several yards behind the king. Silence hung over them for the longest time, and quietly Thranduil moved to gaze at the tapestry of his family years ago. He reached out with a trembling hand to caress his wife's picture, then his infant son.

"They were so beautiful, my wife and child. I only wish that I could have held them, one last time, before I lost them both," he whispered.

It was now that Saeldur made a very unwise decision.

His brow furrowing, the chief advisor spoke up, his tone upset. "The search parties have not even been sent out yet, and you are already in despair. Is this reasonable, my lord? Is it reasonable to abandon all hope and love with no evidence that all is indeed lost? Is it reasonable to say that something that still lives has died?" He challenged Thranduil, anger getting the best of him.

"How do you know Legolas is alive?" Thranduil cried, spinning on the advisor. Saeldur was silent, visibly angered but unable to answer. Striding towards Saeldur Thranduil's eyes gleamed threateningly, and he grasped the councilor tightly, their faces inches apart.

"If you have any news of my child, speak it now, or may you be thrown in the void with only the most evil and treacherous to keep you company," Thranduil threatened darkly, his tone low and dangerous. When Saeldur did not answer the king released him, having vented all his anger, as despair began to take control yet again. Thranduil looked away, and when his cold emerald eyes met Saeldur's gaze again tears glistened in his perfect orbs.

"Give me a week, my liege," Saeldur requested softly. "I only ask for a week, and then you may abandon all reason and end your life in whatever fashion you see best."

Thranduil looked away. He nodded slightly, and then looked back up. There was a sudden desperation in his eyes, as if he realized already what kind of end he would meet if his child did not return to him.

"Please, Saeldur, bring him back," Thranduil begged softly. He turned around and started to walk away, and Saeldur barely caught the words the king uttered as he lingered for a moment at the door:

"If my child dies, there will be no one left to rule in my place. For instead you will have two bodies; one of a fair, young Elfling with his small body ravaged by Orcs, and one of a cold, broken-hearted king, cursed with living to see the last days of his house and cursed with the task of burying his only child."

With those last words Thranduil was gone, having given into to his sorrow and despair, leaving Saeldur alone in his task to bring home the life and innocence of the Woodland Realm. And the councilor knew that without the laughter and bright smiles of the prince throughout the halls and trees of their Elven kingdom, Lasgalen would perhaps be doomed in the fight against the overpowering darkness that threatened to consume all.

TBC