Thranduil watched as Elrond felt Legolas' shoulder, checking for any sign that additional damage had been caused to it. The Prince had not spoken in over an hour, giving no clue as to what feelings were inside him. The King himself, upon returning to the palace, had gone straight to his study and locked the door, having no wish to be disturbed whilst he grieved and turned over chairs and other objects. After ten minutes of doing just that, though, Thranduil had realized that his place was with his last remaining child.

"Is there anything else wrong with his shoulder?" the Sinda Elf asked, more to break the silence than anything else.

The healer shook his head and stood up from his place on the edge of the bed. "No, though it will be painful for a while. Do you have any more injuries, Legolas? I understand how you must be feeling at the present moment, but-

"No, you don't," the Prince cut in, his voice low and husky due to copious amounts of smoke inhalation. "How could you possibly know how I am feeling? Even I do not know that."

Elrond sighed and turned to face Thranduil, hating to watch as Legolas went through so much inner pain and turmoil. "How is your hand now?" he asked his friend.

"My hand? It is still there." In all that had happened, Thranduil had forgotten about his own injury.

"I did not mean that. Have you managed to get the glass out of it yet? I want to take a look at it," Elrond said.

"That is un-hygienic."

The dark haired Elf could not help but smile vaguely. Trust a Sinda to come out with something like that. "I am a healer. Believe me, I have dealt with worse things than a bloody shard of glass. Where is it?"

Thranduil made a face as he nodded in the general direction of the desk. "Over there, wrapped up in cloth, because that is hygienic. But I do not understand. Why is it so important to you?"

"Does it not strike you as slightly strange that there was broken glass in the forest? It is suspicious, that is all," Elrond replied, picking up the shard and going across to the door. Had he glanced at Legolas, he would've seen the silver eyes flickering in recognition. "I will leave you two alone so that you may talk now. And that is exactly what you must do. You must not sit in silence." He looked meaningfully at the Prince, before turning and silently leaving the room.

"Elrond is right. We cannot sit in silence." Thranduil paused, and looked across at his son. "Tell me how you feel."

"I have already said that I do not know how I feel," Legolas muttered. "So much has happened in such a short time, and I don't…I cannot…" He broke off and hugged his knees to his chest, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

"You cannot what?" Thranduil pressed gently. He wanted so much to shed tears for the child he had lost, but knew that he had to be strong for the one he had left. "Come, you must not shut out those around you. You will only feel as though you are alone."

"But I am alone," Legolas whispered.

Thranduil sighed, and moved across to sit on the bed. "You will never be alone. I am here for you, and always will be. And you have the twins, and Estel."

"They can never replace Airëlus," Legolas snapped. He inhaled slowly, and swept a still damp lock of hair from his eyes. "I wish that…I wish that none of this had ever happened. I wish that I could turn back time."

"But there is no-one who has the power to do that," Thranduil said softly. "What would you change if you did, though?"

Legolas shrugged and fiddled absentmindedly with his sleeve. "Everything, I suppose. I mean, really, it is because of me that Airëlus is dead." Even as he finished speaking, panic flashed through the Prince's eyes: it sounded a lot worse out loud than it did in his head.

"His passing was not of your doing," Thranduil replied.

"But it was! And not just his death, but everything that has happened to this family," Legolas cried. "It started with Naneth, and that is why Calaen hated me. He hurt me so much, and I kept on wondering why. But I know now that I deserved everything that I got."

"No-

"Yes! I deserved everything that I got because I am a murderer!" Legolas yelled, anger, pain, anguish, distress, so many different emotions, flickering in his eyes. "Not only did I kill Naneth, but I killed Calaen and Airëlus!"

Thranduil shook his head and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Calm yourself. I have not once blamed you for the death of your mother, and I am going to do no such thing where your brothers are concerned."

"But they are gone," Legolas whispered. "They are gone and I remain here. It should not have been Airëlus who was taken. The only reason he was even out there was me. And now he has passed on and…" The Prince broke off as his voice choked.

"You know that you would never willingly have allowed this to happen. You know and I know that had you been aware of what was going to happen, you would have tried to prevent it at all costs," Thranduil said softly. "Do you honestly, truly believe that Airëlus' death was caused by you and you alone?"

"I suppose not," Legolas sighed. "Although, I believe that I had something to do with it. There is nothing you can say which will make me stop feeling this way, Ada. If I was not so stupid as to think that you and Airëlus had been…. None of this would have happened."

"Do you think that you are the only one who feels guilt?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas looked up in surprise, caught off his guard. "What do you mean? Why would anyone else feel guilty?"

"How do you know that I do not place some of the blame on myself? Inside, I could be screaming and cursing at myself because I let Airëlus ride to Rivendell, and I was not there when he died," Thranduil replied.

"But you do not feel that way, do you?" Legolas asked uncertainly.

"I am feeling many things," the Elven-king sighed. "And it is not just me. Elladan could be feeling guilty because his vision could have come a few days earlier. Estel could be feeling guilty because he let you go out in the forest on your own. Maybe he thinks that if he had gone with you, he could have helped you fight Calaen."

Legolas drew in a deep breath, and shook his head slightly. "I did not think of it that way."

"I did not expect you to," Thranduil replied. "I will not lie to you. These next few days, weeks, months are going to be hard for you. To lose a loved one at such a young age is the worst thing that could possibly happen. But think of it this way: when there are two loving people, one must always leave another behind, no matter how strong their love is. In this case, it is you and Airëlus. You were destined to part one day, yet only one of you would carry the burden of sorrow. You have spared him from going through the pain that you are now."

"But it is the same for you," Legolas said softly.

"That is true," Thranduil sighed. "If I had known that Airëlus' time was today, I would have said so many things to him, things that I have always wanted to say but kept to myself."

Legolas nodded slowly, and kept his gaze locked onto the Elven-king's. He tried to stop his eyes from filling, but found it an impossible task. Launching himself forwards, he threw his arms around Thranduil's neck, and allowed his tears to fall freely. His whole body trembled as he sobbed into his father's shoulder, finally letting his emotions escape.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry for everything."

"Apologize for nothing," the King said in a hushed voice. "Nothing in life goes wasted, and even this grief which we go through now will bring us closer to the true meaning of life, even if you cannot yet see it. Do you know why tears flow?"

Legolas drew back from the embrace, and slowly shook his head. "I suppose…I suppose because we have lost a loved one, and it is just our way of coping with the loss."

Smiling weakly at the answer, Thranduil reached out and brushed away some tears from his son's cheek. "You speak truly, but they also flow to protect our broken hearts and cleanse our spirits. All of this sorrow shows us the preciousness of love. This suffering will help you to become one who understands the pain in others' hearts."

"I never thought of it like that," Legolas said slowly. He paused, and looked up at his father. "Is it wrong that some of my tears are for Calaen?"

"No matter what he did, he was still your brother," Thranduil replied. "Did you love him?"

"Yes, I loved him," Legolas sighed. "What about you?"

"He treated you in the worst way possible, and it is because of him that we are grieving in this way. But yes, I loved him," Thranduil said softly. "Everything in life happens for a reason. I do not know the reasons as to why we are being put through this, but maybe one day, it will all be made clear to us."

He reached out and drew Legolas to him once more, vowing then and there that he would kill himself before seeing any more harm befall his youngest. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that Legolas was not just the youngest son, he was the only son. That also meant that he was the Crown Prince of Mirkwood, heir to the throne.

Legolas remained oblivious to that, though. He exhaled deeply and buried his face into Thranduil's tunic as grief overcame him once more. Father and son sat like that for a long time, drawing apart only when they heard the sound of clattering horses down in the courtyard. The soldiers had returned with the bodies of the fallen.

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