Allright, this chapter needs some explanation before I plunge in.:) This starts out within a dream of Thranduil's. When you see this, 0-0-0-0 that means that what you are reading is a dream, and when you see it again, the next paragraph will be NOT a dream. Everyone thouroughly confused now? Good.:) Hope you all like the chapter.

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" He's perfect, meleth nin." The queen of Mirkwood looked up to her husband and laughed quietly. " Fortunately, he takes after me, instead of his father."

Thranduil pouted playfully. " You needn't brag, Lady. Tis only too true that our son has inherited your beauty, your grace..."

The perfect elfling in question decided he had been ignored long enough and set up a wail from his position in his mother's arms.

" Your patience..."

The fair queen laughed as she coddled her son, coaxing a smile back onto his tiny face. " You forgot one thing, my Lord," she told her king as soon as the young prince had ceased howling.

Thranduil bent over the little Legolas, allowing his son to play with the long blond braids that swung forwards. "mmm? And what was that?"

" He has your voice..."

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Helith cast a cautious glance at this Lord as he changed the young prince's bandages. For a moment, a smile had played across the Elvenking's features, but now it was gone.

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" Ada?" The young prince appeared in the doorway. " What's the matter?"
Thranduil did not respond to his young son. He sat at his desk, his face buried in his hands.

" Ada?" Legolas clambered into his father's lap, his small hands reaching up to stroke the Elvenking's cheek.

Slowly, Thranduil circled his son with his arms, clinging to the small, blond elfling as if his life depended on it. He met the child's eyes and nearly despaired. Did his eyes have to be exactly her shade of blue? His features a permanent reminder of that which was lost?

The child's blond brows drew together in confusion. What could upset his strong father so badly? And how could he help? His eyes brightened as a thought occurred to him. If he didn't know what to do, at least he knew someone who did...

" We will find nana," he told his father decisively. " She will know what to do..." Legolas broke off in horror as he saw his father's eyes fill with tears.

Without a word, the Elvenking clung to his child and sobbed.

Legolas cried as well, his father's tears frightening him. For if his father cried, surely something truly horrible had happened...,

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Thranduil groaned in his sleep as his dreams became darker.

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" What happened?"

One of Legolas' friends who had accompanied the prince on his hunting trip stood before the king. He shifted from leg to leg, uncomfortable.

Thranduil fixed the elf with a steady gaze. " Please, Halden, I need to know."

Halden stared at his lord. He could not remember ever hearing the king say please before in all of his long life. " We were attacked by a spider colony, my lord," he said softly. " On the morning of the second day." He squirmed again, not completely willing to explain everything...he felt as though somehow he was betraying Legolas...

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. " And?"

Halden sighed. Thranduil was his king. " The prince, Legolas," Halden shook his head. This was hard. " My lord, he fought as though he wished to die."

The Elvenking's eyes widened. " Explain," he rasped.

" He did not guard himself, but plunged right into the very thick. Wherever there were the most spiders, that is where he would be. Twice, I killed spiders that would have taken off his head because he was not taking sufficient precautions. The second time, he turned on me..." Halden's forehead creased. " Then he said something strange."

" What?"

" He said...that I was not to look after him. He said he must 'prove himself fit for the position.' I did not know what he meant." The young elf missed the stricken expression that flickered across his Lord's face. " The spiders were being beaten back. We had almost won, but then I heard Legolas cry out." Halden's features creased with guilt. " A spider had managed to climb into a tree right over Legolas. It dropped down, trapping him underneath. Before I or Bram could get to him, he was bit..."

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Helith jerked his head up in astonishment. The king had actually cried out in his sleep! It was a soft cry, but it pierced the healer to the very soul. He looked on the face of his liege, and his heart crumbled. With a deep sigh, he moved to Thranduil's side and shook him gently.

" My lord," he whispered softly.

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Thranduil felt the dream lose it's grip on him. He slid from it's clutch, back towards the land of the waking. With a start, he came back to consciousness.

Helith stood before him, and Thranduil was surprised to see tears shining in the other elf's eyes.

" I am sorry, your majesty," Helith said quietly. " If I had known...,"

Thranduil passed a hand before his eyes, as if to wipe away the lingering images. " They're only dreams," he said roughly. He looked at his son's still form. " Has there been any change?"

Helith shook his head. " None."

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Unnoticed by either elf, the door to the healing wing swung open.

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Thranduil leaned forwards and pushed a strand of golden hair behind his son's pointed ear. " His arm?"

" I checked the wound while you slept," Helith said. " It seems to be healing well."

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An elf entered. Tall, with dark hair and piercing gray eyes.

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Thranduil's brow furrowed. Something was not right...,he suddenly leapt from the chair and whirled towards the door, his hand closing around the hilt of a knife he kept concealed in his robes.

He leapt toward the intruder...only to find his elven dagger blocked by another. Thranduil gasped in surprise as he viewed his opponent.

" Really," Lord Elrond of Imladris said dryly. " Had I known that this was the welcome you had in store for me, I should not have bothered to come."

Thranduil's dagger fell from nerveless fingers. " Elrond...I..."

Elrond held up his hand, halting his friend's speech. " Peace," he said softly, returning his dagger to its sheath. " I understand. Where is Legolas?"

" Here, my lord," Helith managed to squeak from his position beside the prince's bedside.

Without a word, the lord of Imladris crossed the room to the bed on which Legolas lay.

Thranduil clasped his hands tightly behind his back in an effort to keep his hands still. Elrond had been examining his son for the last hour...and the Elvenking's worry was increasing exponentially with every minute that passed.

Elrond finally straightened, stretching the muscles in his back. A frown wrinkled his brow.

'not a good sign,' Thranduil thought to himself. "What is wrong with him, Peredhel?"

"The poison has passed," Elrond said softly. "His arm is healing. Were he to wake now, I would say he would be out of bed in less than a day."

Thranduil felt his heart freeze at the other elf's words. "Why won't he wake?"

The Lord of Imladris shook his head, his dark braids swinging across his face. " Something is wrong with his heart. But it is not a malady that I can heal." He saw the look of despair that crossed the fair king's face and felt his heart squeeze with sympathy. " I cannot heal him, Thranduil," he repeated. "But I can help."

Elrond gently placed a hand over Legolas' forehead and began to murmur softly.