I have no idea where this idea came from. All I know is that a plot bunny went and bit me right in the middle of class and I had to write this right away! It's a little more Thranduil focused than Legolas, but I can still fit here. I'm planning on writing a sequel to this part that goes into the future, but I'd like to know what you think of this part. So, sorry for the wait, but here it is! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Tolkien is a genius. I am not. Only Thalion is mine.

Chapter 5: Closed Eyes

Thranduil stood motionless, heedless of the rain that poured down on him. His eyes traveled over the chaos before him, his mind screaming out in silent horror.

The downpour of rain was slowly starting to wash away the blood that colored the grass of the training fields. All around him, warriors and healers ran alike, struggling to save as many lives as possible. One of the southern patrols had returned, barely. The majority of their number now lay upon the grass, motionless.

The group had stumbled out of the forest in the midst of the raging storm. With nearly all of the company wounded, it was a miracle alone that they had made it back to the stronghold at all. Sentries raised the call and soon the field had been flooded with warriors and healers, trying to help as best they could. There were so many so grievously injured that they had to be stabilized outside before they could be moved.

Thranduil knelt next to one of the returned warriors. A gruesome gash to his midsection left many of his internal organs exposed, so deep had it gone. The Elvenking reached out and laid his hand on the elf's closed eyes. He could feel that the life within this warrior was gone. With a silent prayer to the Valar, he took off his outer robe and laid it over the elf's body.

Rising, he turned to see what he could do to help.

-I-I-I-I-I-

Thranduil collapsed wearily into a chair by the fire, his hair still dripping with rainwater. He did not care as he stared weakly into the fire.

So many dead. There had been so many that had already passed when they had arrived. Many more had fled to the Halls of Mandos before they could be saved. Nearly half of the patrol had seen death. Nearly all the rest were bedridden.

Slowly tears began to leak out of his eyes. There had been so much blood. He was no stranger to the tragedy of war. He had fought at Dagorlad, and many of the battles leading up to it. He had seen the hurt and pain, had even experienced it himself. But that was on a distant battlefield. This was his home that was being stained by the filth of Dol Guldur.

He did not think he would be able to speak to all of the families tomorrow. Yet he must. He must go and offer his condolences to those that had lost a husband, a father, a son. How many more of Mirkwood's children must he send to their death? How many more elves muse close their eyes in eternal rest before he realized that the fight was not worth it?

He bent over and rested his elbows on his thighs, allowing his head to fall into his hands. His eldest son, Thalion was leading his own patrol in the south, currently attempting to gauge how bad the situation was. He feared for his child, feared that he would not return on the morrow. He feared having one more life to weep for.

"Ada?"

The small voice startled Thranduil and his head jerked up to see his youngest child, Legolas standing in the doorway of his room. It was late and the elfling should be in bed right now. Thranduil forced a smile onto his face. "What is it ion-nin?"

Legolas stood in the doorway for only a moment before jogging over to his father. He climbed into Thranduil's lap and sat up. A small hand reached up to wipe away the tears on Thranduil's face. With a great deal of seriousness, Legolas said, "Do not cry Ada. Everything will be all right."

Thranduil clasped Legolas to him, trying not to cry further. His child's simple gesture reminded him why they fought the darkness. They fought so that they could protect the innocence found in children. He hugged his small son tighter, his heart filling with love as well as fear. One day he would have to send Legolas out on his own patrols. It had been hard enough to watch Thalion go. He did not know if he could bear to let his youngest go as well.

Legolas pulled back from his father and smiled, which quickly turned into a yawn. Thranduil smiled. "It is late for little elflings to be out of bed."

Legolas shrugged and settled into his father's lap, letting his head rest against his chest. "I am not a little elfling, Ada, so it does not matter."

Thranduil had to stifle a laugh. Legolas would always be his little elfling, even when he was leading patrols of his own. He wished that day to be long in coming. "Maybe. But you will always be my little Greenleaf."

-I-I-I-I-I-

Hopefully, I'll have a kind of part 2 up to this soon. Please let me know what you think! And I'm sorry once again for the wait, but you know how real life can be. So feedback please and I'll go get that next part written!