Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

Mirkwood's Plague II:

Aftermath

Chapter 15 ~ Chasing Ghosts

~*~

Glorfindel returned to his bedroom but didn't get back into bed, not certain he would be entirely welcome. Legolas didn't move from the bed so Glorfindel assumed he was still sleeping peacefully. He walked over to the window and looked out across the beautiful Mirkwood forest. Although near dawn, the sun had yet to lighten the woods.

"What the…?" Glorfindel whispered to himself when he saw a pale figure dressed in white stood on the grass of the garden and staring right up at him. "It can't be." Without even bothering to put on his shoes, Glorfindel ran from the room and through the empty corridors until he pushed through the front doors then ran into the garden. He found it completely empty of other people – corporeal or otherwise. He swung around, checking every inch of the garden, even looking up at Legolas' window. There was nothing there though. "Alright, this is very spooky," Glorfindel said aloud to himself.

He shook his head and turned to go back to the palace, only to find himself face to face with a tall, blonde, blue-eyed Elf. He only just refrained from yelling in shock.

"Talking to oneself is an initial sign of madness."

Glorfindel took a deep breath, steadying his frayed nerves. "By the Valar, Celeborn, don't sneak up on me like that."

"My apologies, I did not realise I was 'sneaking'," Celeborn smiled calmly.

"You scared me half to death."

Celeborn grinned at him. "What are you doing out at this hour anyway?"

Glorfindel found himself at a loss to explain his presence without sounding completely insane so he lied. "Nothing. Just taking a walk."

"At five in the morning?" Celeborn looked down critically. "And without any shoes on."

"Yes. No…I was…I thought I saw someone out…You weren't walking around out here a couple of minutes ago, were you?" the seneschal asked hopefully. That would, after all, explain everything away.

Celeborn could offer no such assurance, saying, "No, I was on my way to breakfast and I saw you come out here."

"Breakfast? At five in the morning," Glorfindel shot back with satisfaction.

Celeborn smiled softly at the friendly dig. "I like to get an early start." Glorfindel nodded and looked back to the forest again, as if searching for something. "Is anything wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," the Elven Lord grinned.

"A ghost? No. I mean, ghosts aren't real…"

"Glorfindel, I was joking."

"Right. Of course you were. Sorry." Glorfindel sighed, knowing he must have sounded crazy. "I'm sorry, Celeborn. I've had a rather strange night."

"So I see."

"I think I'm going mad."

"Let me make you some tea then, perhaps it will calm your nerves."

"Thank you, my Lord but I should get back to Legolas."

"Of course. No doubt I will see you later, Captain."

"Good…day, sir," Glorfindel bowed before Celeborn walked away. Once he was gone, Glorfindel swept his eyes over the landscape, now brighter with the grey dawn and shaking his head at his strange thoughts, he turned his back on the garden and returned to the palace. Although he went back to Legolas' chambers and stretched out on the couch in the sitting room, he found he couldn't sleep. Eventually, he went back into the bedroom where the prince remained sleeping soundly despite the early morning light, and stood silently by the window, staring idly out into the gardens to the spot where he had seen the white figure. That Legolas saw it that night was unsettling in itself and yet could be explained away by his illness and exhaustion. But Glorfindel, although a little tired, couldn't so easily dismiss his own senses. After all, he had not been afflicted by the disease. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Glorfindel turned to watch Legolas, huddled beneath the covers, his face pale, his eyes closed, breathing deeply. He remained asleep when Glorfindel had returned and truthfully Glorfindel was glad for that. It had scared him last night. Seeing Legolas like that was frightening.

The prince slept on well into late morning, not stirring until gone eleven in the morning. Glorfindel looked up when he heard the rustling of sheets. Legolas blinked blearily up at him.

"Is it morning?" he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Nearly eleven," Glorfindel confirmed. "You slept well."

Legolas mumbled his affirmative, trying to rub the tiredness away from his eyes.

"How do you feel this morning?"

Legolas thought for a moment. "I don't know. Better I think," he replied vaguely.

"Then…you don't remember last night?" Glorfindel asked cautiously.

"You honestly think I could forget that? I am not so shallow as to forget you after just one sleep," Legolas smiled at him.

It was clear that Legolas didn't realise he was talking about his ghostly encounter with his father and Glorfindel concluded that it was probably for the best. "But you don't remember anything else happening last night?" he checked cautiously.

"No. Why? I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

After a brief paused of relief, Glorfindel smiled kindly. "No. No, you didn't say anything stupid." There was a long tense silence for a moment, although Legolas didn't seem to notice it. Glorfindel dragged himself away from his thoughts and focused on the prince. "Do you feel up to having lunch in the dining halls with the others?"

"Actually, I do. I must admit that I am feeling a little hungry today," Legolas said as if this fact surprised even him.

"Good. You should go and get dressed then."

Legolas sat quietly at lunch whilst the others talked cheerily, trying their best to keep the mood upbeat for Legolas' sake. Much to Elrond's delight, Legolas actually ate something, not much but it was a start. No one forced him into conversation, which he appreciated greatly because he honestly didn't think he could summon up the energy to form a coherent thought suitable for conversation.

After lunch, Legolas retired to his rooms where he quickly bathed and sat in Glorfindel's arms in front of the fire, dozing off in the warmth until night descended when he went to bed and slept reasonably peacefully. This routine continued for the next few days and Legolas remained largely undisturbed. Celeborn and Aragorn had temporarily taken over the running of Mirkwood, giving the prince sufficient time to recover. They brought Legolas frequent updates, making sure he knew the important things but not mentioning anything that they could handle by themselves. And over the next couple of weeks, Legolas slowly regained his strength with the help of Glorfindel's love and Elrond's medicines.

The day that Legolas had been absolutely dreading soon approached. His coronation. Plans had already been made. The whole thing had been organised with Legolas' somewhat reluctant approval. It was something he couldn't prevent though. It was inevitable. He was next in line. Technically, he was already king, this just made it finally official. Even so, it was a big step, one that Legolas wished he could avoid. Mirkwood could not, however, carry on under the rule of advisors and outsiders. She needed her king and that duty fell on Legolas' shoulders alone.

Of course, Rumil had always been intended to take up the role, being the eldest of the two brothers he had always been in line to be king. That had never been a concern before for Legolas. Due to the natural succession, Thranduil had ensured Rumil was totally prepared to take on the ruling of a kingdom, teaching him everything he would ever need to know about the running of Mirkwood. As Legolas was a long way from the throne, he had never been taught such things. He knew his duties as a prince, that was a necessity of his position. Personally, however, Legolas had always been far more interested in studying the arts and history or training in the Guard. Being a king had honestly never crossed his mind and apparently it had never occurred to Thranduil either for he had never pushed the extra lessons on his youngest son. Now that he was alone in the ruling of a broken kingdom, Legolas could not help but feel angry at his father for such an oversight.

For all his anger though, in truth Legolas was absolutely terrified. He had no clue what to do next. He was in this all alone. There was no family to fall back on. If it weren't for Glorfindel's presence, he was certain he would fall back into that deep, dark pit of despair in his heart. Whenever, during the preparations and rehearsals for the coronation, Legolas felt it suddenly overwhelming him he would seek out the seneschal and his beautiful blue gaze would anchor him once more.

Despite the preparations, which lifted everyone's spirits but Legolas', Elrond still insisted that Legolas needed to recover. Even though he was slowly regaining his strength it was not easy on the prince. The dark bruises on his body, although fading, still caused him discomfort and his muscles ached constantly. It turned out that he found it difficult to walk any distance or stand up unaided for too long, a fact that he was all to eager to conceal from everyone but that Elrond and Glorfindel always picked up on. They would invent an excuse for him to either retire to his rooms or at least sit down for a while. Legolas never openly mentioned any of this to his people though, not wanting to dampen their mood or concern them.

Everyone else in Mirkwood, people who had been robbed of their families and friends, seemed delighted that even with limited resources they were crowning their beloved prince as king. And Legolas tried his best to indulge them, smiling whenever they spoke enthusiastically about the coronation. He could hardly tell them that he was frightened. They needed a strong leader.

As children, Rumil and Legolas had always complained at how little time they spent with their father. Thranduil had told them that his duty as King of the Woodland Realm required him to make some sacrifices. As a child, Legolas had never understood this but now he had a better understanding. Sacrificing your own well-being for the good of your people seemed only appropriate. After everything that had happened in the past months, didn't they deserve some stability in their lives? Who better to provide that than their only surviving royal? He had a responsibility to make things as easy for them as possible even when he himself was falling apart.

The evening before the coronation, just after the final rehearsal, Elrond himself prepared dinner, much to the twins' amusement, insisting that Legolas join them even though he was really exhausted and just wanted to hide away in his rooms and pray that something would happen during the night to halt the fateful day that was looming. He sat quietly, picking at his food as the others chatted away excitedly. The Hobbits had become caught up in the excitement of the coronation preparations and were now talking about the outdoor party afterwards and who they were going to dance with.

Only Glorfindel was truly attentive to Legolas, occasionally glancing over to the prince and offering a reassuring smile.

When the conversation died down a little, attention was returned to Legolas, still lost in his own thoughts. "Well, Legolas, it seems as though everything is ready for tomorrow. Rehearsals went well today, I thought," Elrond said softly, startling the prince from his musings.

"Yes," he merely smiled weakly, placing his fork on the plate in front of him.

It was said with such an utter lack of conviction that everyone's smiles dropped. Gimli was the only one seemingly oblivious. "So, Elf, are you nervous?" he asked brightly.

Legolas looked up, a little surprised at the question. "A little," he answered, looking down at his plate to avoid prying eyes.

"I know I would be," the Dwarf laughed. "I'd be terrified."

"Gimli," Aragorn hissed, stopping Gimli's speech, sensing that Legolas was getting uncomfortable.

"What?" the Dwarf asked, clueless as Aragorn glared at him with cold eyes.

There was a somewhat uncomfortable silence after that until it was broken by Legolas standing up. "I think I'm going to go to bed now. If you'll excuse me, it will be a long day tomorrow."

Before anyone could reply, Legolas had fled the room.

"Excuse me," Glorfindel said, also standing and running after the prince. He quickly caught up. "Legolas, wait." The prince turned to face him, appearing surprised that Glorfindel had come after him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Legolas lied easily.

"I'll walk you back to your rooms."

"No. Thank you, Glorfindel, but I think I need to be on my own tonight."

Glorfindel looked slightly offended but he did understand. "Of course, I'll leave you alone." He pulled Legolas into a brief hug before releasing him. "I'll be around if you need me."

"Thank you," Legolas whispered. "Good night."

"Goodnight."

Glorfindel turned away, listening to Legolas walking slowly away from him. He was worried about the prince. He had been with Legolas throughout all his insecurities. A few days ago, Glorfindel had gone to Elrond, trying to persuade him that Legolas just wasn't ready for the responsibility of ruling the kingdom. Elrond, despite his own concerns, had told Glorfindel that they had no choice but to continue. Legolas was king. There was no way around it. Glorfindel had stormed from the room angrily but at heart he knew that Elrond was right. The same as Legolas knew it. Still, to see Legolas looking so utterly resigned to his fate was heart-breaking. All Glorfindel wanted to do was wrap Legolas up in his arms and shield him from the terrible fate he had been burdened with.

Legolas went straight back to his rooms and sat down on the bed. The rooms were virtually empty as all of Legolas' belongings had been moved down the hall to the king's larger quarters. Legolas had absolutely no desire to be based in Thranduil's old rooms, they held too many memories for him.

Although he laid down and tried to sleep he remained too nervous about the coronation to settle. Eventually, he gave up and wandered to his father's rooms, hoping to find solace there. The room was lit only by the silver moonlight shining from the open window. It was full of Legolas' things in the sitting room and office but the bedroom contained only a bed and a couple of hard-backed chairs. For a while he just stared out the window, ironically over-looking the place where his father and Rumil were buried. He could do nothing but stare at the small markers for over an hour, alone in the darkness. Eventually, when he could no longer stand up alone he turned away from the window and sat down heavily on the wooden floor, his head in his hands. No tears escaped his eyes though. Over the past weeks it seemed he had cried enough for a lifetime. He didn't think he had any more tears left in him. It had left him feeling empty and drained, exhausted.

Celeborn had first gone to Legolas' quarters, concerned at his sudden exit from the dinner table. The prince's rooms proved to be empty though but Celeborn had a good idea where he might have gone. When he entered Thranduil's old rooms he found Legolas sitting on the cold wooden floor, staring at the opposite wall. Deciding against lighting a candle, Celeborn walked across the room, making sure he made enough noise for the prince to hear him and turn him away if he wanted to but Legolas didn't so much as blink at his presence.

"Legolas?" he asked softly, crouching down so he was in front of the young prince.

Not even meeting his eyes, Legolas said, "Don't," his voice cracked and hoarse.

Celeborn merely nodded silently and got up quietly and went to the bed to sit down, being careful to be certain that he could see Legolas in case he was needed. Not once did Legolas even look up at him though. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. They sat in complete silence for a few hours until around four in the morning when Celeborn finally spoke up, hating the sight of Legolas like this.

"Legolas, come and lie down for a couple of hours," he suggested. When the prince didn't even look up, Celeborn got up and crouched down in front of the prince once more. "Please, Legolas." Finally, Legolas' eyes met his own and he nodded. Celeborn held out his hand and carefully helped him to stand. "That's it," he whispered, leading him over to Thranduil's large bed. He helped Legolas lay down but the younger Elf knew he wouldn't be able to get any real rest.

"It's going to be alright," Celeborn whispered, gently running his hand over Legolas' hair in an unusually parental manner. "Try and get some sleep."

It was an hour before Legolas finally took his advise, his tired eyes drifting closed, soothed by Celeborn's gentle hand working through his hair, the other free arm holding onto him loosely. Using the Lothlorien Lord's arm as a pillow, his tears dampening the sleeves, the prince – soon to be king – finally gave into his exhaustion.