@Kayo : Thank God you like Nara! And sorry for making Thranduil goes berserk! He! He! Can I do it again?
@Nikki1 : I really want to see your expression! Describe it to me!
@Alkvingiel : Dunk your head in the River Anduin to get more tears, mate! Oh, I'll go check 'Healing Guardian'! Thank you for telling!
@Fire Breathing Ferret : A ferret made of rubber? Ha! Ha! Wait a minute! The bulldog has just swallowed a fireball! The ferret is going to melt!!! Mwuahahaa!!!!
@tbiris : Legolas has lost it completely, I know. All that begging and pleading. Oh, even I won't dare standing in Thranduil's way now!
@MoroTheWolfGod : I will! I will! On one condition! Give me your class ring!!
@penny : Sorry for making Leggy so bratty. It won't last long.
@feanen : Of course Thranduil has a temper. Where do you think Legolas gets it from? LOL!!
@Menthol : It took practice, o my fellow student! Practice. Try talking to Legolas' poster everyday and imagine him in your total command. The words will come to you. He! He!
@szhismine : See? I told you you'd hit Thranduil instead of me!!!
Aranel of Mirkwood : Now you guys are making me cry!!! Waa!!! Okay. Here are some more tissues. A whole big box of them. Keep it, in case Thranduil hit his son again.
@Lucy : I so like Charleton Heston, especially in the film 'The Ten Commandments'. Cool!
@Chanra : You got electrocuted? Thank God you're alive!
@Ardhe1314 : Wait for Kel's appearance in the coming prequels!
@namarie2legolas : It's National Mushroom day then (is Mushroom his name? Cute.) Hope he goes in peace.
@Twinlakesghrl : Second chappie for the day, huh? Hmm…Anyway, a post-LOTR fic is coming up after this story. I call it 'Trouble In Telcontar'. It will come out sometime at the end of October.
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Thranduil was awakened from his light slumber by his son's deep moan. He straightened up in the big chair beside the bed and looked closely at the ailing young elf. Legolas was still sleeping, but fitfully. His face was slightly flushed and his forehead was damp with sweat.
The king touched his son's skin and flinched in alarm. He's burning up! I thought he was getting better. What could possibly have caused this? He instantly checked his son all over. To his dismay, he found the wound on Legolas' thigh was festering once again. Valar! It is not healing as it should! Something is wrong!
The king hastily dampened a towel and wiped his son's burning face and forehead. After taking off Legolas' nightshirt, Thranduil soaked more towels and bathed the prince's fevered flesh, whispering consoling words all the while as Legolas writhed and moaned in his arms.
"Fa..ther…" Legolas' sudden voice was just a feeble whisper.
"I'm right here, my son. It's all right. You will be fine," the king crooned back, sponging down his son's chest and shoulders.
"Too hot…"
"I know, little one. Just hold on. I'll get it down."
"Hurts…my leg…please…make it stop…"
Thranduil nearly broke down and cried right then. His heart was torn apart to see his son suffer so. Gently running his hand through Legolas' sweat-sodden hair, he said, "The wound in your thigh is festering again. I'll call for Aragorn. He will know what to do."
But when the king made a move to leave the bed, Legolas protested, "Don't leave me..."
"I won't be long, son. I'll be right back, I promise."
Thranduil had a hard time forcing himself out the door, so reluctant he was to leave his son even for a short while. He beckoned at the guard who stood at sentinel in the hall several yards away. The man hurriedly came forward at the king's signal. "Yes, my lord?"
"Go get King Elessar. And be quick. Tell him my son's condition needs his immediate attention."
The guard blinked in uncertainty. "But, my lord, it's late in the night and King Elessar might have retired to bed…"
"Just do as I order you to do! My son's life is hanging on the balance and you want me to wait till morning?!" Thranduil almost shouted, clenching his fists.
Gulping nervously, the guard bowed under the Mirkwood king's formidable glare. "Forgive me, my lord. I…I'll inform my king right away."
Thranduil stared until the man quickly vanished from his sight before he returned to his son.
Aragorn came rushing over a short while later, belting his flowing night robe along the way. By then, Legolas' temperature had gone up even higher. Thranduil looked up, panic flashing in his deep blue eyes. "I don't know what's wrong. He was fine this morning. It must the wound in his thigh. It's festering again."
The human king knelt down and checked his friend's injury. Blood and puss was steadily coming out of the hole. Legolas' gave a low moan at Aragorn's touch. "It is as you feared, my lord," Aragorn said grimly. "The wound has reopened. But I think that's not all. Something else is preventing this injury from closing up completely."
Thranduil closed his eyes briefly as he recalled the sorrowful scene that day. "He fell on to it this morn. He was trying to stop us from leaving him."
Aragorn had found out about that episode from Faramir. His steward had also entered behind him after being informed of Legolas' alarming condition. The king saw the deep guilt and remorse in the elder elf's eyes as Thranduil raised his gaze, but he didn't comment. He said instead, "I need your help in holding your son still, my lord. I have to purge the infected blood and puss out of the wound. I also need to investigate to find out if there are still any broken pieces of the shrapnel left in his leg."
Leaning over to have a closer look, Faramir then said softly, "The infected area is spreading. We must stop it before he loses the use of that leg and we must do it fast. We have no other choice but to cauterize the wound."
Thranduil looked extremely horrified. "C…cauterize it?" He hugged his son tighter to him, knowing that the procedure was going to cause Legolas huge amount of pain.
"Forgive us, my lord. It has to be done." Aragorn was grimacing inwardly even as he said those words. He truly didn't want to hurt Legolas any further but they certainly had no better option. The infection would not only cause Legolas to lose his leg, it would also cost his life.
Finally, Thranduil weakly nodded. "Do it then. Make it quick, though. We must not prolong his suffering."
Faramir and Aragorn glanced knowingly at each other, and then started to get busy. Aragorn ordered for more hot water and towels to be brought in. Faramir retrieved a clean dagger and stabbed the blade between the burning wood in the fireplace.
Next, as Thranduil crooned assuring words to his son, Aragorn began the agonizing process of purging the blood and puss out of the wound. The Mirkwood king had to turn away from the gruesome sight but could not escape hearing Legolas' pitiful moans and whimpers. His small cries then turned to screams of agony when Aragorn probed deeper for any leftover pieces of shrapnel.
"Hold on, child. Hold on. Won't be long now," Thranduil repeated those words, again and again, into his son's ears.
"Got it!" Aragorn suddenly exclaimed, holding aloft a small item that looked like a piece of lead, the kind that only came from the deep earth of Mordor.
"Looks like we've missed that one. No wonder his wound is not healing normally," Faramir said, looking quite guilty.
"I almost missed it myself, Faramir. I found it buried very deep, hidden beneath the thigh bone," Aragorn replied, throwing the piece into a nearby waste container. Wiping the blood off the wound, he asked, "Is the blade ready?"
"It is, my lord." Faramir went to retrieve the dagger from the fireplace after wrapping his hand with a thick cloth before taking the hilt. Thranduil blanched when he saw the glowing blue tip of the sharp blade, blazing incredibly hot with steam emanating from it.
"Fa…ther…" Legolas trembled with deep fear when he sensed the heat.
Stroking his son's head, Thranduil blurted at the two men, "I…I don't think he can handle this."
Aragorn swallowed painfully. "I know, my lord. But he has to." The Gondor king began to look around. "Get something for him to bite on. A towel for instance."
"Here, my son. Bite on this," Thranduil told the prince. Aragorn and Faramir's eyes widened when they saw the elven king placed his own hand against Legolas' mouth. "No, my lord! We can still use other…"
"I want to share his pain!" snapped Thranduil. "That's the least I can do for him now." In much softer tone, he continued, "Bite on my hand, little one. Let me feel your pain."
With trembling lips, Legolas placed his teeth upon his father's flesh, and then he braced himself and waited.
Faramir's heart constricted at the scene. Such a strong love and devotion ran between father and son, something the man had wished for with Denethor but never received. He felt the familiar tinge of envy and longing, as well as sympathy and sorrow for the Mirkwood royalties' plight. If my father would do the same thing for me, I won't mind getting burned alive a hundred times over! came that thought to his head as he brought the blade closer to the wound.
"Ready?" Faramir asked. The other two nodded. Aragorn pushed down the lower part of Legolas' body to the mattress and hold him firmly there. Then Faramir lowered the blade.
Legolas' reaction was instantaneous. He jerked mightily, nearly throwing his father and Aragorn off him. As muffled scream exploded from his throat, his teeth bit deeper into Thranduil's palm, making his father wince and groan in pain.
Faramir placed the blade on the wound for several seconds as Legolas thrashed desperately, trying to dislodge the cause of his sheer agony. Thranduil and Aragorn held on to him, grimacing at the smell of burnt flesh and cringing at the prince's shrill cry. An instant later, Legolas went limp in their arms.
"He has passed out," observed Thranduil worriedly, feeling Legolas' bite on his hand grew lax. Aragorn could not respond to that. His throat felt too tight for words.
Faramir finally pulled the blade away. "It's done."
Nodding weakly, Aragorn reached for the fresh bandages and basin of cool water that the servants had brought in. "Let's rebind the wound and get his temperature down, then."
Thranduil had pulled his hand out of Legolas' mouth and was gazing down at his unconscious son in sorrow. Aragorn saw the bleeding bite marks. "My lord? May I?" he asked, gesturing at Thranduil's injured hand. The elven king looked down and seemed to be surprised to see the marks there. Wordlessly, he let Aragorn took his hand.
"His pain was great," Thranduil said softly as his other hand traced Legolas' pale cheek.
"So was yours, my lord," Faramir stated as he repeatedly wiped a damp cloth over the prince's chest.
Thranduil looked up. "Not even close, Faramir. I felt but a little of his suffering. I wish it was me who was laying there, not him."
Aragorn chuckled softly as he bound Thranduil's injured palm with a clean strip. "I don't think your son will agree to that, my lord. I fear his temper if that happens!"
Thranduil smiled. "Oh, yes. His short and volatile temper. How can I forget? I believe you have received most of it the whole time he has been here?"
Faramir and Aragorn looked at each other and grinned, remembering the objects and curses that Legolas had thrown upon their heads. Thranduil's smile suddenly grew dim. "I wish that the manyan stone is still with us. Legolas needs it very badly now."
Faramir was puzzled at this. He looked to Aragorn for explanation but the Gondor king had gone very deep in thought.
The mention of the stone of manya brought to Aragorn past memories since the time he had befriended Legolas. He knew that Legolas was born a manyan, a mystical healer who could heal all kinds of wounds and maladies just by the touch of his hand. But that ability had been wrenched cruelly from the prince over a hundred years ago when a wicked witch had dug the magical stone out of his neck. The stone had been the source for the great gift and without it Legolas had lost his healing touch. But the stone could still be used when it was submerged in water. However, after a century later, the power of the stone had also diminished. They had to cast the stone far away into the sea before it destroyed the manyan bearer instead.
Something about the manyan stone had given Aragorn an idea, but he loathed speaking of it to the others until he was absolutely sure. Reaching for Legolas' hand, the man gripped it and mentally vowed, Just like you have healed the rest of us before, I will find the way to heal you back completely, my brother. On my new kingdom, the House of Telcontar, that I swear.
TBC…..