Legolas lay on his father's bed, running things over in his confused and hurt mind. He was not quite sure why he had returned to Thranduil's rooms, but he knew that there was something comforting about being there, despite what he was feeling. Ever since he had been an Elfling, the Prince had always gone up there if he had been afraid or unsure of anything. It had always seemed a haven to him, a place of refuge, safety.

Begin Flashback

The small Elfling tore along the dark corridor, golden hair flying behind him as he ran around a corner. Legolas knew full well that he was not supposed to be out of bed at such a late hour, but he was horribly scared, and wanted someone, anyone who could offer him comfort.

"Go away," he whispered, jumping nearly a foot into the air as thunder sounded outside, echoing through the palace halls. The noise seemed to be worse out here than it had been in his own room.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs which led to the King's private chambers, Legolas hesitated. He was supposed to have permission to go up there, and if he went up without any, then surely his father would be angry. But another clap of thunder made up the child's mind, and he bounded up the stairs. It did not matter that he would get into trouble – at least he would be safe.

After what seemed an age to him, the little Prince was at the top of the stairs, and outside his father's room. Taking a deep breath, Legolas pushed open the door and ran inside. He was afraid that the King would not be there – sometimes he worked very late in his study. But no, Thranduil was asleep in the large bed, his face half covered by loose hair.

Another crash of thunder sounded and lightning illuminated the room. Letting out a cry of fright, Legolas ran forwards and dived onto the bed. The Elven-king sat up with a start, immediately on the defensive. But he blinked in surprise when he saw who the intruder was.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked sharply, pushing some hair out of his eyes.

In reply, Legolas threw himself against his father, and buried his face in his chest. His body trembled as rain crashed against the windows, and the room was momentarily lit up. Thranduil looked down in surprise, and wrapped his arms around the frightened child.

"What is it, Greenleaf?" he asked softly. When there was no answer, he moved back a little so that he could look into his son's face. "Has something happened? Did you have a dream?"

Legolas shook his head and pointed outside with a trembling finger. "The noise. It won't stop, Ada."

"Do you mean the thunder? That will not hurt you," Thranduil replied.

"But it's too loud," Legolas muttered.

"Yes, it may be loud, but no harm will come to you from it. Besides, I thought that you wanted to be a warrior when you are older. Warriors are not afraid of thunder." The Elven-king concealed a smile as disappointment crossed his son's face.

"I do want to be a warrior," Legolas said falteringly. "But some warriors are afraid of thunder, aren't they?" Even as he spoke, there was another crash, louder than any other that night. He started, but did not dive back to his father as he so wanted.

Thranduil smiled, and drew the Elfling to him. "Yes, you are right. Some warriors are afraid of thunder."

"Who?" Legolas asked.

"Well, I…I am not quite sure…" Thranduil sighed at the look he was being given. "Glorfindel. Lord Glorfindel is afraid of thunder."

"But Glorfindel is a fighter," Legolas said slowly. "How can he...? That's not very brave."

"No, but he defeated a Balrog, so I think that we can overlook his fear," Thranduil replied. He sighed inwardly. 'Valar help me. I have just told him that the legendary Balrog slayer is afraid of thunder. Maybe we can put off our trip to Rivendell this year. And next year also.'

"Can I still be a warrior, then?" Legolas asked hopefully.

"Of course you can," Thranduil replied. "But make sure you tell no-one else of Glorfindel's fear."

"Why?"

'Because I would prefer my head to remain where it is,' the Elven-king thought. He smiled at his son, and said, "Because warriors never tell each other's secrets."

Legolas nodded. "Alright."

"Are you happy to go back to your own bed now, or would you prefer to…" Thranduil trailed off as the child dived under the covers. "I see."

Legolas smiled happily as his father lay down beside him, and drew him into his arms. "Aren't you angry that I came up here without permission?"

"Of course not. You can always come here to me," Thranduil replied, stroking the child's hair. "You are not afraid any more, are you?"

"No, because you are here and you can fight away all of the bad things," Legolas muttered, his eyes going out of focus as sleep took him.

The King smiled weakly at the words. His little son had so much faith in him, yet he knew full well that he would not always be able to 'fight away all of the bad things' as it had so innocently been put.

End Flashback

Legolas was pulled out of the past and back into the present as the door opened, and Thranduil came in, with Airëlus just behind. When his eyes met the King's, the Prince turned on his side, and faced the opposite wall.

"How are you feeling?" Airëlus asked softly.

When there was no reply, Thranduil went forwards and sat on the edge of the bed. "You must not shut us out like this," he said softly, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. He withdrew it though, when Legolas flinched. "You have been through a lot, and I understand that you will find it hard to trust again. But Airëlus and I are here to help you."

Legolas closed his eyes in despair, and drew in a deep breath. This was not right. It was not long ago that Thranduil had been beating him relentlessly, and hurling abuse at him, yet here he was, trying to correct everything that had happened, and heal the one whom he had done so much damage to.

"Please. All that we want to do is make you better," the Elven-king said. "I know what it is that you think, and I know how confused you must be. But if you would only speak, then the healing process will start."

"You do not even have to look at us," Airëlus said gently. "We can do whatever you feel comfortable with. It does not even matter if at fist you only speak a few sentences."

The young Prince nodded from his place on the bed. They wanted a few sentences? That was what they would get. "I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone."

"Legolas-

"I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone," he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Please, we can help you," Airëlus said.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Legolas snapped. "I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone."

"Listen-

"GET OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" the Prince screamed, pushing himself into a sitting position and facing his father and brother. He glared defiantly at the former, until the King stood, and went over to the door.

"As you wish, Legolas," Thranduil said. "Airëlus, come. We will get out and leave your brother alone if that is really what he wants."

The Crown Prince looked up in surprise. "Ada, should we not…?"

"No. Like I said, if that is what he wants, then we should go," Thranduil replied. He nodded at his eldest son. "Come."

"Alright," Airëlus said slowly, locking eyes with Legolas. "We will go." With that, he left the room.

The golden haired Prince stared at the closed door that his brother and father had gone out of, and sighed deeply. He really did want to talk. He wanted answers to so many questions. But he was hurt. Not just physically, but emotionally also. It would take a lot for him to come out of the door that he had locked himself behind.

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