Hey! So, again, I have not read or watched all of the Lord of The Rings books or movies, not that those are super necessary for me to understand enough to know I want parental Thranduil, lol. So yeah, I got most of my information from other people's amazing fanfictions. Oh, and I should probably mention that I don't own LOTR, although I don't suppose anyone would think I do...wow, that's my first disclaimer. Probably should have put those on some of my other fics, cause I own none of the works I do fanfics for...does that count as a general disclaimer for me now? nervous chuckle.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. This one was super hard to write...
The sound of children's laughter drifted across the lawn, reaching the ears of many of the elves who were lounging outside on the clear summer's day, making them smile at the simple joys of life.
Prince Legolas of Mirkwood also heard it, and smiled with the others. With the darkening of the woods, and the evil invading the land, laughter was heard less and less. The children, however, always found joy, as they did not feel the darkening as keenly as their elders.
Legolas glanced over to where the sound had come from, taking in the sight of many children playing a game with a ball, which got tossed around, and eventually, if the game went well, ended up being thrown between two branches of the trees.
As Legolas was starting to turn back to his group of friends, who were relaxing in the sun on their time off duty, the laughter of the children turned into fearful cries.
Whipping his head back around, Legolas's eyes widened at the sight of one of the children balancing precariously in the edge of the hill.
The ball had rolled away, and one of the children had ran, laughing, to catch it. It had stopped just at the edge of the hill, and he had bent down to pick it up, grateful that he wouldn't have to go down the hill and then back up, when the ball started rolling again, pushed by the gentle breeze, and it's own momentum.
Already in an off balanced position, reaching to pick up the ball, the child made one more lunge for it, to stop it from rolling any farther, but ended up tumbling down with it.
He screamed, feeling gravity taking a slow hold on him as it dragged him down. The other children who had been playing ran forward, as all children do, to see what was happening. However, someone else had started running forward before them, and he got there before them, even though he was farther away. Legolas, however, did not get there in time to stop the child from falling, so he did the only other thing he could. Lunging for the child, the prince wrapped his arms around him, and rolled with him down the hill, shielding the small child's body from the bumps on the way down.
The hill was not incredibly steep, otherwise people wouldn't have allowed the children to play near it. However, no matter how shallow a hill is, it still hurts if you fall and roll down it unprepared.
All lives are precious to the elves, but the children are especially so, and Legolas was impetuous, and did things without thinking of them fully, and so of course he was the one to save the child.
He couldn't think of anything as he went down the hill, all that occupied his mind was the child in his arms, which he knew he had to keep safe, and the bumps and jabs as he rolled along, hitting the occasional jump or rock stuck out of the ground.
When he was reaching the bottom, and his speed was lessening, he hit one last bump, sending him flying. He kept his arms around the child, who had his eyes tightly closed, until his head hit a rock at the bottom, just as he stopped. He hardly felt the rock, as darkness overtook his vision and his mind, causing the muscles in his arms to loosen, releasing the child from the confines of Legolas's arms, and letting him tumble down the hill a little further. The frightened child looked back up, and saw his rescuer lying prostrate in the ground. After a closer look, he saw the grass around the prince's head turning a dark red, which was slowly spreading.
Thranduil kept his facial expression bland, not letting his boredom and irritation show. He was stuck in another council meeting, and of course there was no peace. No matter what topic was being discussed, there were several advisors who did not agree, and who would argue about it for hours on end if Thranduil let them.
He had stopped trying to keep track of what the current two were arguing about half an hour ago, shortly after the discussion, if it could be called that, had started.
Sighing to himself, Thranduil turned his head to look out the window. It was a beautiful day outside, and he would have liked to be out enjoying the sun with his son, who had some time off from patrols. Instead he was stuck inside, forced to deal with arguing councilors.
As he was just about to turn back to the matter on hand, and hopefully end the argument sooner rather than later, a child's scream cut through the air.
Ignoring the other members of the room, he stood from his chair and stepped quickly over to the window, glancing anxiously out to see who had screamed.
Being on the second floor of the castle, and in his council room, he had a good view of the front lawns, where many elves gathered on days like that one. As such, he could easily see the small child teetering on the edge of the hill. That alone was enough to scare him, for Thranduil was a good king, and loved all his subjects dearly. What was even more terrifying for him, however, was seeing the elf who was already running forward to help.
The helper's long blond hair shone in the sun, and as he jumped to enclose the child in his arms, his face was tilted so that Thranduil could see him. "Legolas!" He breathed out, watching in fear as his son rolled down a hill, out of his reach.
He was unable to do anything but watch, and what took only part of a minute, seemed to the watching father to last hours. Before he knew it, the two tumbling figures had come to a stop at the base of the hill. Thranduil could just see them lying there. He saw the small child prop himself up on his elbows, and waited with baited breath to see the still form of his son move.
His muscles were all tensed up, ready to spring into action. After a few more seconds, during which Legolas stayed still, he turned from the window, striding across the large room. "Council dismissed," he said sharply as he walked away, not even looking behind his shoulder at the shocked council members as he said it.
The long, decorative robes which Thranduil normally wore were getting in the way, not allowing him to go as quickly as he would have liked. Having only Legolas in mind, he didn't even think twice about it when he unclasped the cloak, letting it fall behind him. It fluttered to the floor and landed gently, lying unmoving, just as Mirkwood's prince was, not that Thranduil looked back to see, or make the comparison.
Being a king, Thranduil needed to at least keep as much of a royal appearance as he could, and so he did not run through the castle halls, even though he was in an extreme rush to get outside. He sufficed with walking extremely quickly, and then once he had reached the sunshine of the outside lawns, he broke into a run for the short distance towards the hill which Legolas and the child had fallen down.
He slowed down once he got to the top of the hill, and jogged down carefully, seeing the large group of people at the bottom, surrounding his son. A couple healers were already there, as well as a few of the more curious elves who had been outside at the time.
When they saw the king approaching, most of the gathered elves stepped back respectfully, leaving the way clear for Thranduil to get to Legolas.
The blond prince was still lying where he had fallen, but the two healers, who were kneeling beside Legolas, and had not moved as Thranduil approached, were propping his head up. One was trying to stem the flow of blood, and the other was trying to get the prince to wake.
A quick glance further down hill showed a few people around the child that Legolas had saved, and Thranduil could hear the child insisting that he was fine.
Relieved that Legolas had kept the child uninjured, the king turned back to his son, who had still not moved. His face was pale, his eyes were closed, and his light blond hair was crusted with blood in some places.
After a few moments of letting the healers work, Thranduil pushed his way through. The healer who had been holding Legolas's head and trying to revive him, seeing the King's intention, quickly moved away, making room for Thranduil to kneel down beside Legolas, and gently cradle his head.
Thranduil stroked his son's face a few times, fighting back the pricks behind his eyes that he refused to believe were tears. He had seen his son injured many times, often worse than this; he could not be seen to be crying in front of his people. And besides, Legolas didn't need tears right now.
Thranduil set his jaw, and changed the motion of caressing his son's face to slapping it gently but firmly. Using his stern king's voice, which Legolas knew to obey as soon as he heard it, Thranduil quietly ordered, "Legolas, wake up."
The unconscious prince didn't react, remaining as still and as pale as he had been before. The other healer, the one who had been trying to stem the flow of blood from the head wound, looked up at Thranduil, then went back to what he had been doing.
Thranduil's brow furrowed. "Legolas," he barked, "your king commands that you wake up." His voice became weaker towards the end, and he began to get dejected, until he saw something that gave him hope.
Legolas's brow twitched, as if he were in pain, and his head moved half an inch. Encouraged by this, Thranduil resumed his quick tapping, hoping to bring Legolas back into awareness.
"Come on, ion nin," he murmured soothingly, watching as Legolas struggled to reach consciousness. "That's it," he said, watching as Legolas's eyes slowly opened, blinking several times.
A few moments later, Legolas groaned and closed his eyes, his hand reaching up slowly to go over his face. After exchanging a glance with the healer, Thranduil moved slightly, repositioning himself so that he was shadowing Legolas against the sun.
The healer, seeming to finally have slowed the bleeding, was now holding a white bandage against the wound, and the other healer, whom Thranduil had replaced, was tying it onto his head.
Thranduil diligently lifted Legolas's head gently when the healers needed him to, so they could tie the bandage all the way around. Legolas still had his eyes closed, getting his bearings, and taking it all in.
Stroking his son's cheek gently once more, Thranduil waited patiently for him to open his eyes, which he did a few moments later, although only halfway.
"Ada," Legolas began, his voice weak and only a murmur, "what happened? Why does my head hurt so much?" He winced as the healers finished tying off the bandage at the side of his head.
Thranduil smiled wryly, recalling what had happened just minutes before. "You jumped down a hill, Legolas, and hit your head. Quite simple really. If you're stupid, you get hurt."
Legolas seemed to have a hard time remembering, but his confused expression cleared after a few seconds.
Going serious again, Thranduil continued quietly, bending down further so that only Legolas could hear him, "But in all honestly, Legolas, I am proud of you. You put your own life in danger to save a child, who is perfectly fine, thanks to you."
Legolas smiled at both his father's praise, and the knowledge that the child was fine. A few moments more, Legolas allowed his eyes to close, and his breaths started to even out.
Alarmed, Thranduil looked up at the two healers, who didn't seem to be incredibly worried. "Let him sleep, My Lord," the one whom Thranduil had replaced said. "We need to transfer him to his room in the castle; we can wake him and examine him more thoroughly there. The fact that he woke up at all is a good sign."
Thranduil nodded absently, greatly relieved to hear that his son would be alright. "Don't you want him to go to the healing halls, not his room?" He asked.
The other healer smiled. "If we are right, it is most likely just a concussion. A bad concussion, but just a concussion. He will need to be able to rest easily and comfortably, and his own chambers are the best place for that. After the first twenty-four hours, when he will need to be woken and checked on every few hours, he will be alright on his own, with just the occasional check in, in case he needs something."
"I see," Thranduil replied. "Thank you, for all you have done for him."
"Of course, My King," the first healer replied, bowing his head politely. Then, looking back up the hill, he continued, "Here is someone with a stretcher now, and we can transfer him to his room."
Surprised, Thranduil looked up himself, and sure enough, a younger elf was walking down carefully, carrying a stretcher under his arm. Looking around, Thranduil realized that all the other elves had dispersed as well, including the child.
When he looked back to his son again, he found that Legolas was already being moved to the stretcher, which was laying on the ground next to him. Mere minutes later, Thranduil was walking ahead of the stretcher, which was carried by the two healers, leading them to the royal wing, where Legolas's chambers were.
Thranduil watched as Legolas was moved from the stretcher to his bed, he stood aside as the healers examined him, and he waited patiently while they woke him up and questioned him.
Legolas was groggy when they woke him up, and groaned not a few times during the process of their examinations, but finally they were done, and he fell back asleep. How peaceful that sleep was, however, Thranduil could not say.
The two healers who had been there the whole time approached Thranduil once Legolas was sleeping again. "My Lord," one of them said, while they both bowed to him. They were on the far side of the room from Legolas's bed, but they still kept their voices quiet, and Thranduil followed their example.
"What have you decided?" the king asked, masking the nervousness he felt from his voice.
"Prince Legolas does indeed have a concussion, but he will make a full recovery. His memory is not affected at all, he merely has a sensitivity to bright light and a headache, which is to be expected. He needs complete bedrest for a few days, and time off duty for a week. After that, I will examine him again. If he is recovering well, I would then put him on light duties. We have given him some painkillers, and I will be back every few hours to wake him, and make sure he is alright still, and has no serious negative side effects."
"Of course," Thranduil said solemnly, nodded slightly at them as a thanks for their work. The healers bowed once more, then left the room.
Sighing heavily, Thranduil dragged the chair from the desk over to the bed, and sat in it. Putting his head in his hands, he thought of how many times he had sat in that same chair, beside the same bed, and sighed again. His son could never stay out of trouble. At least this time he had an excuse.
Thranduil waited by Legolas's bedside until he woke up, although he didn't know how long it took. His mind had replayed memories of times long past, and some from more recently, all of them having Legolas injured in some way. Sometimes, Thranduil had more pressing work that called him away from his son's bedside, which was normally in the infirmary, but he always tried to visit Legolas whenever he could.
As the images flashed through his mind, time around Thranduil passed, unnoticed by him, until his musings were disturbed the sound of sheets rustling. His head snapped up, causing a painful crick in his neck at the sudden movement.
Legolas's head, which had been positioned straight on the pillow, was now tilted to the side, facing Thranduil. The prince's face scrunched up in pain, and he let out a heavy breath, before his eyes slowly opened, a wince gracing his features.
"Ada," he croaked out, his voice hoarse, and his brow furrowed.
"I am here, Legolas," Thranduil said, placing his hand gently on Legolas's forehead before standing from his chair. He walked over to the windows, and closed the blinds on them, leaving just the little light that came through the cracks into the room. His experience with concussions, both his own and other's, gave him the knowledge of how much sunlight could hurt the eyes.
"Thank you, Ada," Legolas breathed out, his face relaxing some.
"You're welcome, Legolas," Thranduil replied softly, stroking his hand over his son's hair. Then, his expression hardened slightly, and it's hand paused it's motion. "That was a foolish thing, ion, jumping down a hill. You could have been killed!"
Legolas glanced over at him, a wry smile gracing his face. "That may have been preferable," he said dramatically, scrunching his eyes closed in pain. "This headache is killing me anyway."
Thranduil allowed himself to smile slightly, and he started running his hand through his son's hair again. "Truthfully, ion nin, I am proud of what you did. You risked your life to save that child, and you did it without thinking. You have no idea how proud I am."
Legolas, hearing that, kept his eyes closed, but smiled anyways. He was grateful that he had managed to help the child, but hearing his father saying that, it meant more to him than anything. It almost made the concussion worth it. Almost.
And that's that one done. It was sooo hard, you have no idea. Actually, it wasn't that hard, but it was definitely one of the hardest. And, if you liked this, you may want to check out my other fic, "Now I Get It", as it is kinda a companion to this one. Not really, and you don't need to read either one to understand the other, but "Now I Get It" was written after my friend said she was curious about the line in this fanfiction where Thranduil muses: "His experience with concussions, both his own and other's, gave him the knowledge of how much sunlight could hurt the eyes." So yah, you can read that one if you like. :D
Thanks for reading!