Legolas smiled as his father fed him. The King of Mirkwood was telling his son tales of his youth; stories to entertain but not make Legolas laugh, as his injured body would only suffer further from the action.

Everyone was quiet as they listened, fully enjoying the tales. None of them realized the trouble that Thranduil and Elrond had gotten into when they were younger.

"It seems that you've had nearly as many misadventures as Aragorn and Legolas!" Elladan exclaimed.

Thranduil smiled, bringing a spoonful of soup to his son's lips. "Nearly as many," he agreed.

"I doubt that anyone could outdo us," Aragorn said to Legolas.

Legolas smiled. "Indeed. Not even your brothers!"

Elladan and Elrohir's eyebrows shot up and they both adopted looks of mock-shock, making Aragorn chuckle.

"It is a pity that I was not there, Thranduil," said Heredil, who was a few hundred years younger than Mirkwood's King. "I'm sure that my presence would have saved you both from your dangers."

Everyone looked at him, and Elladan and Elrohir began laughing hysterically, as if what he said was completely impossible.

Heredil shot them a mock-insulted look, his words having been a jest.

Legolas tried not to laugh, but the twins were contagious. The sound of their laughter was funnier than Heredil's words, and he closed his eyes with a wince when his chest vehemently protested.

Thranduil put the spoon down at the sight of his son's distress. "Legolas?" he said, gently taking his son's hand.

The pale elf gave no answer, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing labored from the pain.

Elrond had some painkilling herbs already mixed, having been waiting for Legolas to finish eating. He quickly passed it to Thranduil.

The Mirkwood King held it to his son's lips, gently helping him drink it.

Everyone was quiet as they worriedly watched their friend suffer. Legolas' face had turned white as a sheet, and he seemed on the verge of passing out.

When Elrond saw how severe the episode was, he reached out a hand to smooth the golden hair. "Be calm, penneth," he said, giving Legolas something to focus on besides the pain. "It will pass. Be calm."

Legolas heard him, but the injured elf was truly in a fix. The intensity of the pain stole his breath away, but the resulting heavy breathing only increased the pain thanks to the location of his wound.

It seemed like an eternity before Legolas' breathing began to ease as the pain slowly dimmed. His face remained white and his head lolled to the side weakly as the tension in his body was released. He continued to breathe faster than normal, eyes closed.

A stab of fear shot through Thranduil. The King's body shook from worry and anger at the people who had done this to his son. "Legolas?" he said, putting a hand under his chin and gently lifting it.

Legolas licked dry lips, his eyes fluttering, but not opening.

Elrond slid an arm behind the young elf and gently pulled him forward as Aragorn removed some of the pillows that propped the Prince up. They gently laid him down and watched as Legolas' breathing evened out in sleep.

Everyone was quiet, staring at the injured elf.

"I wish to speak to the captured human," Thranduil whispered.

Elrond looked at him, not sure if that was a wise idea. "I told the healers to notify me the next time that he woke."

Thranduil was quiet for a minute, staring at his son. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, the door opened.

A healer stuck his head inside the room, quietly beckoning to Elrond.

Thranduil stood and strode towards the door before Elrond had a chance to take one step, and he hurried after the angry King.

"Thranduil!" he called, after closing the door behind himself.

The King didn't stop, but he slowed his pace.

Elrond quickly caught up with him. "Please, mellon-nin, I am sure that Radek is innocent—"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Thranduil. He increased his pace again, quickly making his way to the healing rooms.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Radek looked around warily. He felt slightly improved; he knew that his fever had gone. His wound still caused him pain, so he tried to stay as motionless as possible.

The door suddenly opened, and Radek was surprised when it wasn't Elrond who entered. It didn't take much for Radek to realize who the stranger was.

Elrond entered behind Thranduil, quickly moving in front of him and approaching Radek. "How do you feel?"

Radek gave the healer a slight smile. "I am all right." He then looked at the stranger. "Mae gov-govannen? Did I say it correctly? I would bow before you, Your Highness, if I was able."

Thranduil and Elrond were both shocked that the human knew who Thranduil was.

"How do you know me?" Thranduil asked, surprise overcoming his anger.

"It was not hard to surmise," said Radek, trying to look Thranduil in the eye without moving much. "You are obviously the father of the elf who was…attacked. The resemblance is astonishing. As I heard your son's guard call him 'Legolas' that day, there is no reason for doubt as to your identity."

Thranduil walked forward so that the man could see him better. "Aye, you are correct." He hesitated, as if changing his mind on how to proceed. "What village are you from?"

Radek sighed. "I am from the village of Nangobel. May I ask on the health of your son?"

Thranduil was slightly surprised again. He studied the human laying before him, trying to discern any indication of trickery, but he saw real, honest concern in the man's eyes. "He is…improving," Thranduil answered.

Radek closed his eyes for a second. "I am glad."

Thranduil said nothing for a minute, before shaking his head. "I am not much like Lord Elrond. I cannot simply accept without doubt that you were an unwilling participant in the attempted murder of my son!"

Radek nodded. "I would feel the same if I were you. But please believe me when I tell you that I have been fascinated with elves since I was a child." He smiled. "I used to pretend to be one. My mother often told my brother and I about your race, and I enjoyed it, while Tanek did not. He took after our father, who did not like elves."

"And why was that?" Thranduil asked.

"Apparently, his brother was killed by an elf, for reasons that I never learned," said Radek. "He hated your race for it, and passed on the prejudice to my brother."

Thranduil's expression turned angry. "Elves do not kill without cause."

"I know," said Radek. "I suspect that my uncle was involved in some kind of illegal activity against an elf. As for Tanek, he and I were never close. He was too…" he shook his head, unable to think of the right word to describe him. "He is not a good man." Suddenly a stab of pain shot through his abdomen and he winced, closing his eyes.

Elrond laid a hand on Radek's arm, in quiet support.

Everyone was quiet while the young man suffered, and when he opened his eyes again, he looked exhausted.

"We shall leave you to your rest," said Thranduil, softly.

Radek nodded, closing his eyes again.

Elrond and Thranduil left the room, the healer waiting for the King to speak. It wasn't until they were halfway to Legolas' room before he spoke.

"I believe that you are correct," he said, as if there were reason for doubt. "He truly appears to be innocent."

Elrond nodded.

"He is from Nangobel," said the King. "I would ride there right now if I knew that this Tanek was still there."

"Aye," said Elrond. "He is most likely hiding elsewhere."

Thranduil sighed. "We need to find that man. No elf is safe, especially now; he likely believes that we killed his brother!"

Elrond's eyebrows rose at the King's words. He was right; if Tanek assumed that Radek was dead, his hatred of elves would become an unstoppable fury...