A/N: Thanks to everyone still reading!

Chapter 3: Of Ships and Kings

"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes -- and Ships -- and sealing-wax --

Of cabbages -- and Kings – "

-Alice Through the Looking Glass

Legolas pulled back on the shooting string of his bow, letting the familiar strain on his muscles grow. After a moment, he released the arrow and it flew through the air until it landed at the center of the target block.

He took a deep breath and smiled, taking in the sweet scent of his bow in the crisp air. It was not the mighty weapon that the Lady Galadriel had gifted him with but the one his father had given him when he first started to work with a bow and arrow. It was a battered thing, worn by use and time, but Legolas treasured it still.

"I remember when you could barely hit the target block, much less the center," a voice said behind him. Legolas laughed and turned around.

"Some memories are best left forgotten," he said, lowering his bow. He grinned at his father. "But I am glad to see you."

"I was told that a certain elf prince wanted to speak to his father after breakfast this morning," Thranduil said. "Well, it is after breakfast and the morning is fast becoming afternoon, yet still that elf prince has not come to his father's study."

Legolas glanced at the target block and suppressed a smile. During the morning meal, after the proper homecoming announcements were made, Legolas had asked his father to set aside some time for a meeting. His father had acquiesced and Legolas intended to go straight to his father's study after stopping by his room, but he had gotten sidetracked by the sight of the empty training fields from his window. Thoughts of the meeting disappeared as soon as he picked up his bow and quiver and now the sun was further up in the sky than it had been when he first set foot on the field.

"I apologize," Legolas said. "I only meant to stay for a moment or two."

"Ah, I know you well, my son," Thranduil said lightly. "After you did not come, I had a feeling you would be here. I decided then, if you would not come to me, I would go to you."

"Thank you, father," Legolas said. "I wanted to speak to you about rather important matters. Shall we walk then?"

Thranduil nodded and Legolas slung his bow to the side, holding it close to his body. They began to walk towards the palace halls at a slow pace. The snow had stopped falling and the sky was overcast but the day was still a pleasant one. From the distance, Legolas could see gaily dressed servants walking about and the glint of merry fires through curtain-less windows. Though the old year was drawing to a close, he did not feel it to be a time of endings. No, rather, Legolas thought it to be a time of beginnings, of fresh starts and new dreams.

Of horizons that had yet to come into sight.

Ithilien.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" Thranduil asked, after a rather long silence. Legolas blinked and pulled himself out of his reverie. He stopped walking and his father turned to him with a curious expression on his face.

"I wanted to speak to you about Ithilien, father," Legolas said. "I know that I have just returned home after a long absence but the deep woods of Ithilien call out to me. It is a wild place, untended and untouched by caring hands, but a fair country nevertheless. There is a greatness in the place. A certain feral elegance that beckons to me."

Legolas looked at his father, straining to find the right words to express himself. He would have painted a picture if he could, of blue and red and pale green blooms. Of junipers and myrtles, lily flowers and falling streams. Of showy saxifrages and long stemmed asphodels. Legolas would have woven a tapestry of heavy limbed trees and dead leaves, of wild grass and twisted roots. Of shadows and light.

Of possibilities.

"What do you want, Legolas?" Thranduil asked. His face was serious and still.

"I want to go to Ithilien," Legolas said. "Not to tame it but to nurture it. To make it a safe haven for all living creatures. I want to take some of the elves with me, those who would go of their own will, of course. I want to claim that land for myself and our people. For the people of Middle Earth."

Thranduil sighed heavily and looked up at the sky. His expression was unreadable and not for the first time did Legolas feel unsure of himself in his father's presence. Yet, he kept his head held high and his shoulders back, wanting to show his father through his actions that he was no child, but a warrior- with the potential to be a ruler.

"You no longer want to be only a prince," Thranduil said softly. "And you do not want a kingdom that other hands have built. I understand this, Legolas, and you have my blessing to go if that is what you wish of me."

"Is that simple, father?" Legolas asked, surprised. "Do you not want to hear of the plans that I have made? Do you not want to speak more about this? To make certain that…"

Thranduil looked at his son and laughed. He shook his head and put his hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"Nay, Legolas," Thranduil said. "I trust you. I had a feeling that this is what you wanted to speak to me about. I knew it from the moment I saw you last night, standing before my desk. You had a purpose in your eyes. I knew then that I no longer had a prince for a son, but a king. Though I would have stepped down from the throne if you had wanted it for yourself."

"I would have never asked that of you," Legolas said. "You are the king of Eryn Lasgalen. There is no other who can take your place."

"Except for you," Thranduil said, with a slight smile. "But now I see that my son, my firstborn, wishes to tread a path of his own making. I am proud of you, Legolas. As your mother would have been proud of you."

Legolas was overcome with emotion. He smiled at his father, feeling his heart fill with joy. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in months, years even, Legolas felt truly happy. His father squeezed his shoulder before releasing him.

"But tell me that you are planning to stay for a while longer," Thranduil said. "It has been years since I have last seen you and winter is no time for a long journey."

"Of course, father," Legolas said. "I plan to stay in Eryn Lasgalen for at least a year. That will give me enough time to bring to life my plans."

"And to rest, Legolas," Thranduil said, as they began to walk again. "You have traveled many miles, and to many distant places. Be at peace here in your home for a little while. But tell me, so many of the elves have left for the sea- how long will you stay in Middle Earth, my son. Does the sea not call you yet?"

Legolas paused before answering. What answer could he give his father? He felt the call of the Sea like a pull on his heart, but he knew it was not yet time for him to make the crossing. He was waiting for a beckon, a sign. Legolas felt that his father would not understand his hesitance- not really.

"Yes," he said. "It has called me and it still does. But the pull is not as strong as it could be. I will stay in Middle Earth for as long as King Elessar remains on his throne- if I may. Perhaps longer. It is not my choice."

Thranduil said nothing and for awhile, the two of them walked in silence.

"Father, there is something else I wish to speak to you about," Legolas said finally but he stopped when Thranduil held up his hand.

"Ah, yes, I was expecting this too," he said. "Lohr brought it to my attention before breakfast. You are upset about Karalynn."

"Father, I understand that Karalynn needs to be around children of her... of her mind's age," Legolas said. "But at the risk of becoming sick? She can find others here to play with. I am here now; I do not think we need to put her health in danger. I do not want her to go along with the others to the Lake town. Not anymore."

"That is not up to you, Legolas," Thranduil said. "Kythe is her mother. Faran is her father. They decide what is best for her."

"Yes, but I allowed the adoption as you did," Legolas said. "Do we not have any say over that which concerns her health? I have seen sick men and women, father. I do not want Karalynn to be afflicted by such a thing if she does not have to be. There is no reason for her to be ill every year, just to have playmates."

"Speak to Kythe about this, Legolas," said Thranduil. "I will give you leave to have the last word. However, I urge you to be wise in handling this matter. It is my opinion that Kythe and Faran are doing well in raising Karalynn."

"I am sure that they are very good parents," Legolas said. "But parents must look after the welfare of their children- not just fulfill their wants."

"I agree," Thranduil said, glancing at his son with a faint smile. He narrowed his eyes suddenly and tilted his head to the side, as if suddenly struck by a thought. "Kythe and Faran have not spoken to you about Karalynn yet, have they? No, I can see it in your eyes. I suppose there has been no time to really bring all matters to light."

"What matters, father?" Legolas said. "I have heard things being hinted at but no one has told me of Karalynn aside from her condition. Tell me father, what have the years brought her? Why do Kythe and Lohr look troubled when they speak of her to me?"

Thranduil's eyes seemed to bore into Legolas then. It was a probing gaze, steely and disconcerting. Legolas felt as if his father was making a judgment about him and Legolas did not like the sensation.

"Karalynn is not an elf, Legolas," Thranduil said finally, after a long pause.

"Yes, I know that," Legolas said. "But father…"

"Neither is she truly human," Thranduil said, completing Legolas' sentence. "But she shares many of their weaknesses and traits. For all we have done and do, she will never feel that sense of kin with us; with elves. Being around the people of the Lake town is a comfort to her. I allowed her to accompany the trading groups because I thought it would be good for her to see that she is not the only human in Middle Earth."

Thranduil sighed.

"It is a hard thing to be lonely, Legolas," he said softly.

It was clear from his frown that Legolas did not agree with his father. Karalynn- lonely? The thought was ridiculous. How could she be lonely when there were so many around her who doted on her; who loved her? He opened his mouth to say so when he saw a figure dressed in the light robes of a healer, approaching them.

"Hello father, hello Legolas," Lohr said, walking to where they stood. He looked at his father, giving him a polite nod and then turned to Legolas. "I have been looking all over for you. "

"Well, now you have found me," Legolas said. He smiled at his brother. "How very fortunate for you."

Lohr lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. "It seems that you are in a droll mood this afternoon," he said. "In that case, I suppose you would not be of mind to pay a visit to Karalynn. She is still asleep so she may miss out on your wit- which would be a misfortune, I suppose."

Legolas' smile quickly disappeared. "Lohr," he began but his brother held up his hand, cutting him off.

"It was a jest, Legolas," Lohr said. "In an hour or so, the medicine will wear off and she will wake up. You know where her room is- call for me when she begins to wake and try to stay out of her sight. I do not want her to become too excited."

Legolas nodded gratefully. He looked at his father to take leave but Thranduil waved him off with a slight smile and a knowing look in his eyes.

"Go on, Legolas," Thranduil said. "It has been far too long since you have seen her. Go."

"Thank you, father," Legolas said, already walking away from them. "And thank you, Lohr. I will send out a servant as soon as she stirs."

Lohr and Thranduil watched as Legolas nearly sprinted across the snow-covered land towards the palace halls. For a long time, they watched until Legolas disappeared from sight. Until he was completely out of earshot. Only then did Lohr turn to his father and sigh.

"Kythe still has not spoken to him about Karalynn," he said softly. "I almost wish she… I almost wish she would not…"

"Legolas should know," Thranduil said firmly. He turned to Lohr. "And he will notice the changes even if no one says a word."

"Yes, I suppose," Lohr said. "But I am worried about what he will do when he finds out. I sense something in him, father. He feels… helpless. Or a part of him does, at least. He… it is almost as if he is still not here with us. His mind is faraway."

Thranduil sighed. He knew that Lohr's abilities as a healer extended far beyond simply mending physical injuries. Lohr had an intuitiveness about him- he could sense feelings and emotions as if they were physical maladies. Nuratar had recognized this early on which was why he had recommended that Lohr succeed him when he left for the Gray Havens.

"He has only just returned, Lohr," Thranduil said. "You can not expect him to be who he was before he left with the Fellowship. Your brother has been through things that you could not imagine. Give him time to focus, to gather his thoughts. Give yourself time to accept the changes in him."

"It is not just that," Lohr said. He looked at the palace, towards where Legolas had gone. His eyes grew dark and troubled with thought. "Legolas… he wants to regain the ground that he feels he has lost. Everything here reminds him of how much time has passed, I think. He seeks to find a way to control how he feels- he seeks to find control."

Lohr looked at his father.

"Karalynn is the weakest of all of us," he said softly. "And at this point in her life, she is at her most vulnerable."

"Lohr, do not go down this path of reasoning," said Thranduil. There was warning edge to his voice. Lohr knew how his father felt about Legolas and Karalynn. Lohr knew that something in his father's heart had been broken the day Legolas brought Karalynn back from Lothlorien, so many years ago. Legolas was the oldest child and their father had placed his hopes and dreams on him. Whatever Thranduil thought of Legolas' choice was private- Lohr knew that he would defend Legolas before others no matter how he felt inside.

"He would not hurt her for the world, my son," Thranduil said, lowering his voice. "You know as well as I, Legolas is not capable of raising a hand to her."

Lohr closed his eyes.

"There are many more ways to hurt people, father, and the least of them is with a raised hand."

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She was still asleep.

Legolas stepped silently into her room and closed the door behind him. He had stopped by his own quarters first- to drop off his weapons and to change his clothing. The snow that had fallen on his clothing had melted and he knew that it would not do to visit her in damp clothing.

For a moment, he stood with the door at his back, letting his eyes get used to the darkness inside. The curtains had been pulled over the windows and it was oddly quiet and still- a vast difference from the bustling noise of the rest of the palace. He turned his head towards her bed and quickly looked away. No, he was not ready to even look at her. Not yet.

He needed to gather himself first.

His gaze traveled from corner to corner, perusing the trinkets and fixtures that made up Karalynn's room. At first glance, it seemed that not much had changed. The small vanity table, cluttered with brushes and various hair ornaments, still stood in its place near the window. At the far wall was her closet, filled with the gowns and simple dresses the court seamstress had made for her. He knew that at this time of the year, only her warm winter clothes would be hung there. There was a larger closet at the end of the hall filled with the rest of her clothing. The dark blue rug on her floor, the large toy chest at the foot of her bed, the elven poem scrolls on her wall, the silver candle holders and vases- these were all familiar to Legolas. They were proof that time had not passed over this place he so loved.

His eyes were drawn to the shelves that he had set on her walls many years ago. He had built them for her growing number of dolls and toys and he smiled fondly at the small flowers he had carved on the sides. He remembered how wide her eyes had grown as she traced over each carving with her fingertip.

( "Flowers, Legolas! You carved flowers in the wood! Look how pretty they are…"

"So that you may have an eternal garden in your room. These flowers will never fade nor die." )

The memory was still strong in his mind, as were all of his moments with her. He had kept them deep within his heart, hoarding them like treasures only to be looked at and admired in the darkest quiet of night. It was true what Gimli said the night Legolas decided to return home; Legolas had not spoken of Karalynn before the dreams began. He had found no reason to. He felt that if he kept her a secret, if her name did not move past his lips, then she would truly be his and only his. He shared her with Kythe and Faran, his father, his brothers and the other elves in Eryn Lasgalen already- he did not want to share her with anyone else.

Legolas frowned as his thoughts moved back to the present time. His eyes narrowed as he realized something was wrong with the image before him.

Her toys were gone.

Instead the shelves bore a muddle of new objects. His eyes moved over each one carefully, storing them in his mind to ponder later. A small bouquet of dried flowers tied with a pink silk ribbon. A few leather-bound books with gold lettering on their sides. One of his old training arrows. A number of scrolls, piled on top of each other in a haphazard way. Some quills and a bottle of black ink.

A few faded hair garlands lay on one shelf along with small lavender pouch. A few silver and copper coins that he recognized as human-made. More knick- knacks and loose ends littered the surface of each shelf and Legolas tilted his head to the side, confused. Where were all her toys? Where was her favorite ball? Or the small wooden figurines that Daurwyn had made for her? Where was her prized porcelain tea set?

The only toy that was still there was the doll Elladan had made for her during their stay in Rivendell. Yet even the sight of that familiar plaything troubled him. It looked as if she had not changed the doll's clothing for a long time. There was dust in the folds of its dress and on the surface of its face.

What a ridiculous thought! Of course she has changed its clothing over the years. She loved that doll. There is dust on it because she is sick and has not played with it for some time.

You are being foolish, Legolas Greenleaf!

But if it were so, how would that explain the faded color of the dress? Karalynn had changed its clothing dozens of times in the days before the Fellowship had left Lord Elrond's realm. She had been extremely careful with it, even to the point of obsession. She would not have allowed the doll's dress to fade in the light of sun so why had she set it up in that shelf where the first rays of dawn would surely have hit it? Would she have been so thoughtless of its position?

He looked over her room again, banishing all feelings of nostalgia and melancholy from his mind. Had he fooled himself into thinking that nothing in her bedroom had changed? The hair decorations on her vanity table were different. No longer were they of the bright and vibrant colors he remembered. These clips were more subdued, made for older elf children. Kythe was the one who fixed her hair each morning and unless that routine had changed, it would mean that Kythe was the one who had picked out these particular designs.

Why would Kythe pick such muted designs for her happy child-like daughter?

There were more books on her bookshelf but they were not all books of stories and tales. No. There was a book on history, a book on language and a book on art. As a matter of fact, they were Lohr's old instruction books from his days as a young scholar. Was Kythe trying to force Karalynn's simple mind to comprehend such abstract subjects?. But still…. why would Kythe do such a cruel thing? Didn't she know that Karalynn would not be able to handle that sort of learning? She couldn't even read! She did not possess an elf's quick mind, after all.

A loud sound broke through his thoughts and he turned towards the bed.

Karalynn was coughing. Ugly, hacking, painful sounding coughs that seemed to come from deep inside her chest.

Legolas moved swiftly to the bedside, stifling his anger at Kythe. How dare she allow his Karalynn to be exposed to such an illness! How dare Kythe allow Karalynn to play with those human children, to mingle with those sickly mortals!

How dare she allow his Karalynn to suffer at all!

To his surprise, Karalynn did not awaken. As he watched her, she shifted slightly and her eyes fluttered but she remained asleep. She lay on her side with one arm flung over her waist and the other, at an angle to her head. For a moment, Legolas did not move.

It was the first time in nearly four decades that he had looked upon Karalynn without help from his memory.

She had not changed and this was no trick of the eye. Her hair, still long and black, lay tousled against the white sheets of her bed. Her face, youthful and sweet, made his breath catch in his throat. She wore a plain white night dress, with a high collar and long sleeves. If there was any doubt in his mind that his love for her had faded, it disappeared in that moment. His heart filled with longing for her and any trace of uncertainty fled before the sight of her face.

"Kara." He whispered her name reverently and reached down to touch her cheek. "So long. I am so sorry…"

His fingertips moved over her soft skin gently, taking in the smoothness of her face. How could he have stayed away from her for so many years? His arm trembled slightly. He did not want to wake her so he drew his hand away, clasping it to his chest as if it were an alien limb. It had been too long… how could an apology be enough? Did he even have a right to touch her as he did now? He had deserted her in Rivendell for strangers to bring her home and though it was for a greater good, the thought echoed in his mind like a taunt.

I abandoned her. I left her. She did not understand. I abandoned her. I left her.

Would she be angry at him? Would she frown and turn away if she woke up now and saw his face? Would she cry as she did when he left with the Fellowship?

His fingertips burned.

Legolas blinked.

Her skin had been hot.

He leaned forward and placed his hand over her brow lightly. Karalynn winced and turned her head away from him. Her skin was on fire! Legolas drew back and she began to tremble. Her eyes fluttered open but he knew she could barely see in the darkness of her room.

"I'm cold." Her voice was weak and hoarse. "Mommy? It's cold. I'm so cold."

Legolas said nothing, not wanting to betray his presence just yet. He was torn by indecision- should he call Lohr as he had promised? Or should he betray his presence by helping her? The sound of her labored breathing reached his ears and Legolas made up his mind.

He pulled her blankets up to her chin, gently moving her arms down so that she was completely covered. Her gray eyes searched the darkness for someone, not knowing it was Legolas, and her brow wrinkled with the effort.

"Mommy?" she said. "Mommy, are you there?"

"Shh, darling one," Legolas whispered, smoothing away the strands from her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

She was still feverish then, an affliction that he had seen humans suffering from. He had pitied them with a sort of detached observation, not really knowing what they were going through. Now it seemed that his previous indifference was coming back to haunt him tenfold.

Karalynn's eyes fluttered again and then closed, making Legolas worry. Should he call Lohr? Kythe said that Karalynn simply needed time to heal but it looked like she was in such pain. Surely Karalynn had never been this bad before.

"Cold," she whispered again and he felt the bed move slightly as she drew her limbs closer to her body. She hugged herself and tucked her chin in, trying to keep herself warm.

She continued to tremble and Legolas knew that the thick blankets which had been laid over her were not enough. Without stopping to think about the consequences, he swiftly removed his shoes and lifted the thick coverings. She whimpered at the rush of cool air that surrounded her with the loss of the blankets but in a moment's time, Legolas had crept into the bed with her.

He wrapped his arms around her shivering frame and held her tightly against his chest, fearful at the heat her body radiated. Yes, she had a fever but she was also shivering. Legolas did not want to think about how an illness could affect her mind and body so- to confuse being cold and hot- and so he did not dwell on it. How could humans tolerate being ill? Instead he focused his attention on the feel of her back against his chest, each breath she took in and released. He pressed his lips against her hair and began to breathe with her, letting his mind open up to her.

Sleep, my love. Sleep.

Her body slowly began to relax and in a moment's time, he felt her body expand and contract with each deep breath. She had fallen back asleep but Legolas could find no peace in the fact. Though his hold on her was gentle, his expression was fierce and almost angry.

This will never happen again, Karalynn.

Never again.