Without knocking, Kalin made his way back into the Prince's bedroom, where he found Legolas right inside the door in wait for his sentry's return. Clearly, Legolas had been listening in to Ninan and Kalin's conversation, but since the conversation had been about the Prince, Kalin figured Legolas had all rights to know what was said. Kalin had no more than shut the portal behind him before his charge began thanking him, saying, "You have saved me. No one has ever stood up for me as you did. Thank you!"

To the sentry's surprise, Legolas was smiling, his fear and anguish at his father's treatment forgotten for now, so great was his relief. The sentry professed quietly, bordering on treason as he declared, "I am our King's subject, my Prince, but I am your servant. My allegiances lie first with you, just as I told Ninan. You need never worry I will choose another's side over yours."

"You risk making my father angry with you in doing so," the young Elf warned, though Kalin needed no such caution, for he knew well if Thranduil should ever have cause to think Kalin's loyalty laid with the Prince over the King, Thranduil would remove him from his position and send him to the dangerous border patrol as punishment, if he did not remove him from service entirely.

He placed a congenial hand upon his Prince's shoulder, though he hurriedly removed it after realizing how familiar he was being with his charge. Ninan had only just admonished Kalin for thinking Legolas to be his friend, and here he was acting it. But still, he told the young Elf with earnestness, "I will gladly risk our King's wrath to keep you safe and well, my Prince, just as I would to protect you from any other threat. It is my duty, my oath, and my pleasure."

Legolas nodded and gave his sentry another of his honest smiles, to which the elder Wood-Elf again could not help but smile back. However, to Kalin's consternation, the young Elf's grateful cheerfulness dissipated, leaving only confusion and unhappiness, as the Prince's thoughts returned to his father.

"I don't understand why he is angry with me. He couldn't have really been mad over me pouring ink in Andle's tea, could he?" the Prince asked in true bewilderment as he walked back to the windows where his bow laid forgotten upon the short table. Gazing out between the flowering vines growing over the small glass panes on the slope of the mountainside, Legolas spoke softly, as if thinking aloud, "There is some other reason he hates me. I think he wishes I had died rather than Naneth," the laegel repeated as he had said earlier.

He followed Legolas, coming to stand beside him at the windows. Although it had long since been removed, a rocking chair once sat under these windows when the Queen had been alive and Legolas a mere babe, wherein the Queen would sit with her Elfling for hours at a time, singing, nursing, and lulling to sleep her beloved little Greenleaf. Kalin wondered absently if the Prince recalled this and if it had anything to do with why Legolas often chose to sit on the floor under the windows rather than at his desk in the library, on one of the comfortable chaises in the sitting room, or even upon his bed. Even now, the younger Silvan dropped down onto the floor, one arm cradling his injured side as he did so, to resume sitting where he had been before Ninan showed at his door.

"No, my Prince, I don't think he wishes such at all," the sentry contested, although in truth, Kalin was not certain whether or not Thranduil would rather have his Queen alive and his son dead. "And I don't think your father hates you."

Absently, the Prince nodded, not seeming to be comforted or to believe entirely his sentry's assurances. Kalin stood there for a while, watching the younger Elf and waiting, though for what, he was not sure. I cannot leave him like this. I cannot leave him forlorn and sorrowful.

He was no learned scholar, no lorekeeper or historian, mastered no craft or tradeskills other than warcraft, and while intelligent, Kalin never considered himself the kind of Elf to whom anyone might come for advice. And yet, here sat his withdrawn, anguished, and injured Prince, in need of consoling words and with not a single person from whom he might receive them other than Kalin – for no one else would ever know of what happened today, Kalin was sure of it. The younger Wood-Elf's eyes were unfocused and his face slack while in deep thought; the elder Elf knew his young charge obsessed over whatever insults and criticisms the Elf-King hurled at him today – he thought about why his father hated him, why he wanted to hurt him, and what he had done to deserve it. Shaking off the feeling of having no right and no experience to offer such counsel, Kalin cleared his throat to gain his Prince's attention.

In what must have seemed a strange change of topic, the sentry asked Legolas, "Have I ever told you the story of how my sister died?"

Legolas' dark amber brows rose in surprise and he looked up to Kalin with attentiveness. "Halrene? I have heard the story of how she saved her patrol from the band of yrrch set to overrun their camp. She saved her entire contingent by luring the yrrch away, didn't she?"

It was the sentry's turn to be surprised. Halrene's name was often spoken with reverence, for she set the example of how the Silvan warriors hoped to be – that is, selfless, sacrificing, and brave – but he had not expected Legolas to know of her because she had lived and died long before the Prince was born.

"You have heard of her, I see," he told Legolas with a genuinely pleased smile. He sat on the floor near his Prince, adjusted his scabbard out of the way, leant his back upon the wall, and crossed his long legs at the knee while stretching them out before him.

"Of course. Everyone has heard of Halrene. Faidnil once told me there is even a song about her great deeds, but I've yet to hear anyone sing it," the young Elda complained with a consternated frown. Legolas loved to hear stories of battles and bravery; he took after his father in this way.

"As a kindness, the bards don't sing it when my father and mother are around, and these days, they are always in attendance during the feasts now they have retired from rotation in the border patrol. The grief of her death returns to them at the least reminder," Kalin explained patiently, which earned him an understanding nod from the Prince. "One day, though, I will sing it for you, if you wish."

This promise earned the sentry the most carefree, authentic smile he had yet to see upon his Prince's face since this morning, before taking Legolas to endure Thranduil's wrath. The laegel considerately replied, "I would like to hear it, but not if it reminds you of your grief, Kalin."

A pang of sorrow leapt across the older Silvan's chest, though it was not for the remembrance of his sister's death, but for the kindness his Prince showed him. As had the late Queen been well known and well loved amongst her people for her kindheartedness, Legolas too evinced his compassion for his kith and kin. Kalin loved his sister greatly – as much as he loved his Prince – and it pleased him every time he heard someone speak well of her or wanted to hear of her. And yet, Halrene's story was not of what the sentry wanted to tell the younger Elf. He hesitated, though, for the same reason Legolas gave for his not wanting to hear the song should it upset Kalin. The sentry did not want to bring up the Queen's death, nor did he want to give his Prince false hope. But Legolas' eagerly interested face made up the sentry's mind and he told himself, Perhaps a little false hope is better than no hope at all. More than likely, the young Silvan thought he would hear a tale of daring and battle, but the guard had a different story to spin.

"What few know, my Prince, is after Halrene died, my mother and father took it very poorly, as might anyone who has lost a loved one. Naneth was the most besorrowed by my sister's death. Even then, her and father had already stopped patrolling and were doing what they now do – training the younger Elves in warcraft. My parents were the ones to train Halrene and me, in fact. And after Halrene's death, each time Ada was faced with a young Elleth who had dark auburn hair and light green eyes, or who wore her hair in a similar way, or had a similar style of clothing as Halrene – he would become overwrought with grief from his memories. Suppress it though he tried, he eventually requested only to train the Ellyn. It took him over three years before he could train the Ellith without becoming distraught."

Legolas moved into sitting cross-legged again, his elbows on his knees, and his chin in one hand. The Prince's entire body leant forward and his head tilted to the side as he listened intently. It was not often Kalin spoke this much or this seriously to his Prince, since it was not his place to teach or advise the young Wood-Elf. Clever, always eager to learn, and a lover of storytelling, the Prince was already captivated by his sentry's narrative.

Kalin collected his thoughts for a moment, for here was the relevant point of his story. "Naneth, on the other hand, grew quite bitter. Whether an Elleth or Ellon she trained, Naneth was very stern and very exacting. I think, perhaps, she was not taking out her anger upon her students, but trying to instill in them the knowledge they would need to survive. She did not want to lose another Elf whom she cared for, and so thought to be as hard upon them as possible so they would be the best warriors they could be. Of course, her students only thought she was being cruel and grew to dislike her for her harshness. Nonetheless, some of our most apt and bravest warriors were trained under her during her darkest, most grievous time of mourning."

Ever astute, although he rarely got credit for his intelligence from his father, Legolas smiled faintly at the guard as he came to understand why his sentry told him this story. "So you think my father is only trying to make me the best Prince I can be?"

"I hope it is the case, anyway. I am just a sentry and I cannot claim to know our King's thoughts. He loves you, I am certain of it. He is doing what Oropher did for him in trying to strengthen you, to make you capable of withstanding any trial or hardship you might encounter – just as my mother tried to do for her students. But also," Kalin added with a devoted smile for the young Silvan, "he is just like my father. When our King looks at you, he sees the Queen in you. Although you look more like your Ada, you share more in common with your Naneth, and it must pain our King to be reminded constantly of the Queen's death."

Again showing his acumen and a wisdom born not from age but from a life in which too much hardship had already accumulated, Legolas opposed, "It doesn't seem fair to me. I have lost my mother just as he lost his wife. Why should I have to suffer more because he suffers?"

For this, Kalin had no answer. He thought to himself, It is not fair, it is true. But life is rarely fair. He would not share with his Prince such a trite rejoinder, though. Instead, he tried to offer Legolas some hope, while not realizing how false his promise would prove to be over the many years to come, "In time, my Prince, our King will grieve less, his faer will be less burdened by the Queen's death, and it will all get better. I promise you," he oathed wholeheartedly, not once thinking he was lying, although in Kalin's lifetime, he would not see this come to pass.

He earned a smile for his efforts – a smile beginning small but growing as Legolas allowed Kalin's promise to instill within him optimism for his future. "You are right," the young Elf told his elder. "I suppose I will just have to endure it for a while longer. And perhaps I will be a better Prince for it."

Even so, Kalin did not like the thought of his beloved Prince enduring anymore of their King's violence or unwarranted judgment, nor did he like hearing Legolas so willing to accept their King's anger; however, all Kalin could do was offer his support and whatever protection he might without being caught and thus removed from his charge's side. His own gloominess lightening with his Prince's bettered mood, Kalin stood and offered his hand out to Legolas to pull him up from the floor, as well.

"Come," he asked of the young Silvan, telling Legolas, "if we can't practice our archery today, let us find something else to do other than sitting here. It is a beautiful day outside and – "

The sentry's intended offer to his Prince was immediately forgotten, for as he tried to pull the younger Elf up, the ache of Legolas' injured chest made him gasp, release his sentry's hand, and then topple back to his knees upon the floor. Seeing his charge in pain caused Kalin physical pain, as well, and it horrified him to be the cause of it, even if indirectly. The sentry dropped to his own knees and held his hands out to keep Legolas from moving, hoping he might ascertain the severity of the younger Elf's injuries.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, can I see?" Kalin asked Legolas.

Legolas nodded and Kalin gently lifted up the laegel's shirt and tunic so he could see Legolas' throbbing side. Too freshly made to have bruised, the mark upon the Prince's torso was a deep and angry red line running from his hip, over his belly, and to the middle of his chest. In a day or two, the welt would be a significant, painful contusion hindering Legolas from doing much by way of the physical entertainment of which young Wood-Elves were wont – that is, climbing trees, running, sparring, and of course, shooting his bow.

Morgoth's arse. Was Thranduil trying to kill him? Kalin had no children but could never imagine hitting one had he any, nor had he ever been struck by his parents. Each time he saw the bruises upon his Prince, the sentry's mind went hazy with rage. As he ever so gently prodded the muscles upon his charge's chest, Kalin worried, Are his ribs broken or will they just bruise?

Worriedly, he implored the Prince, "You should see a healer. I know little of healing but – "

Firmly, Legolas interrupted, "No. I can't." Turning his face away from the guard, Legolas slid his tunic and undershirt back down his torso and added, "Besides, I can breathe fine. They are not broken."

It was not pride keeping the young Elf from seeking out help for his injury – or at least, not his own pride. No, the laegel wanted to hide the damage done to him to save his father's reputation. Knowing he would not convince the young Silvan otherwise, the sentry settled for the next best thing. "Then let me wrap them, my Prince. Please. Just in case."

When Legolas gave his assent with an uneager nod, Kalin jumped back to his feet, helped his Prince to stand – with more care for the laegel's injuries this time – and led him to sit upon his bed. He told the young Elf, "I'll be right back. I have linen in my room sufficient enough for binding them."

Again, the Prince nodded, ostensibly not liking the idea but willing to allow it, since Legolas likely hoped in doing so he would convince his sentry not to fetch a healer.

Kalin ran to his rooms as if the Dark Lord himself were chasing him. When first the Queen had died, the sentry had often feared his tenderhearted Prince might follow suit, for while Legolas had loved his mother as any child did, the young Silvan's sorrow had been augmented by the shared grief of the entire Greenwood. For months after, Legolas had to live with the constant reminder of his mother's torment and demise because as Queen, she had been the topic of conversation and well wishing from the Wood-Elves of the Greenwood. And, of course, Legolas had received little comfort from his Ada after his Naneth's death. For weeks after the Queen's death, Kalin had trailed his Prince everywhere, staying beside him whether Legolas was otherwise alone or in the company of his friends, so Kalin would be nearby should his young charge's sorrow overwhelm him. Now, though the worst of Legolas' grief had faded, Kalin still took care to be available for his charge at all times and took constant note of his Prince's moods. Thus, although it would only take minutes for him to collect the linen from his room, he sped through his task as quickly as possible so he could return to the young Elf, as he did not desire to leave Legolas alone for any length of time when it was clear the Prince was mired in melancholy.

With this in mind, the Silvan threw items from his wardrobe onto the bed, not caring he was making a mess of his otherwise pristine, austere room. In a bag with other rudimentary healing items he took with him when in the forest on patrol or when traveling with the Prince, he found linen he gauged suitable for his purpose. Leaving the mess he had made for later, Kalin intended to run back to the Prince's chambers when he noticed the long ignored sack of stones and carved game board upon his desk. It had been a winter feast gift from Legolas; the small board was made from obsidian, while the rounded, polished playing pieces were made of ivory and turquoise.

If he cannot practice his archery for distraction, then I will let him beat me at stones until he is mirthful again, Kalin told himself, picking the articles up with a smile.

In Kalin's thinking, protecting Legolas' rhaw was his primary duty, but protecting his young Prince's faer was just as important – today, the sentry had his work cut out for him.