Author's note: Thank you for continuing to support this story, and for you new readers, welcome aboard! Now, this chapter has taken quite a long time to write over the years, because, basically, I didn't know how far to take things at first. Anyway, the inspiration for this chapter came from Raider-K(not spoiling anything by telling you how) and Lady Galadriel. Most of you can probably guess why.

A big thank you those of you who reviewed last chapter: AndurilofTolkien, TeenMuggle, and AraneltheSilvan. If you want to be mentioned in my next chapter, all it takes is a review- simple or complex, and I will add your name to the list.

One last thing, this chapter is the fluffiest yet! I actually had to take breaks in between writing it because it was so overwhelming. Enjoy!

Chapter Four: Take Of My Strength

~LOTRLOTRLOTR~

Thranduil held out his hand and Legolas took it, allowing himself to be led back to the bed.

Once there, the king drew down the duvet on his own side of the bed before directing Legolas to sit down; to which the elfling offered no argument. It was warmer due to his residual body heat, and granted much easier access to it since it wasn't blocked by the nightstand. Folding the duvet back over so that it was covering everything but the boy's chest, Thranduil spoke, trying to sound confident even though what he felt was anything but.

"Before I heal you, I will need to examine you first to assess the damage. This will take but a few moments. Lie back," he gently directed. Legolas complied, laying down into the soft pillow behind him. The softness did little to comfort him though.

Thranduil brought his hand to rest against his son's chest, sadly noticing that Legolas's heartbeat was still a little faster than it should be. He was about to start the examination, when interrupted.

"Wait.. will it hurt?"

Thranduil was quick to put his son's fears to rest. "No, penneth. There will only be slight discomfort, which will not last long." But there will be pain later, he thought grimly.

"Okay," Legolas replied, now more at ease.

Thranduil closed his eyes and Legolas watched in awe as his Ada's palm glowed a beautiful pure white color, brightening the room more brilliantly than any candle could ever dream. He flinched when the hand touched his chest, not knowing what to expect.

Thranduil gave his son a look of compassion. "I will tell you when the discomfort comes, try to relax until then."

Legolas nodded and breathed deeply, willing the tension from his muscles.

Thranduil focused his energy through his palm, guiding it deeper and deeper until it reached the electric energy. It was very strong and powerful, a vibrant, fast-flowing circle of energy that protected what lied within in. Right away, Thranduil knew it would take a lot of effort on his part to move past it. Focusing his senses outward, he spoke.

"The discomfort will come shortly as I attempt to reach your soul. Do not move or I will have to start again," Thranduil cautioned. He waited until his son gave a wordless acknowledgment, before focusing himself inwardly again. Due to having kept his own energy in place he did not have to seek out the circle of energy again, for it was already before him, crackling in challenge. Gathering as much strength as possible, he pushed against it. The energy did not yield at first, but Thranduil was unrelenting, and eventually he made it past the threshold.

Legolas tensed, the tightening of his chest feeling very odd. However, it was only slightly uncomfortable, just as he was told. The discomfort lasted for only a few seconds more before he felt a warmth where Thranduil's hand rested against his chest, a greater warmth inside him pulsing and soothing. Legolas closed his eyes, lulled into relaxation.

The elfling flinched upon hearing his father's sharp inhale. "Ada, what is it? Is something wrong?" He asked, a little frightened now.

Thranduil was at odds with what he should tell his son.. with what he should do. In truth, he felt like crushing his son in a hug and never letting him go, but since that couldn't happen, he did the only thing he could do in that moment.

Willing his fëa to leave his son, Thranduil took Legolas into his arms and held the boy close, a few tears gliding down his cheeks, which he secretly wiped away. Oh, Valar, what did this to you! The Elvenking was deeply grieved that such a horrendous thing would befall his son, but this grief was mostly tempered by anger. He was angry with himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. If only he had spent more time with the boy he knew he would have been present before any of this came into being, before the fear manifested so deeply into Legolas's subconscious in such a cruel way. So yes, he was responsible.

"Forgive me, ion-nin. Please forgive me for leaving you alone for so long," Thranduil begged, so far beyond keeping any of his true emotions muted anymore.

Legolas went from being afraid to truly frightened, pulling away from his father's arms. "Ada, you're scaring me.. tell me what is wrong with me!" he demanded brazenly.

Thranduil realized that he was scaring Legolas by his silence and quickly steeled himself before meeting the eyes of his son. He took a few more moments to carefully decide how he would to break the news. The king had felt a fracture in his son's fëa. Thankfully it was small and no further damage was found, but it would hurt quite a bit to heal. Of course it will, Thranduil chided himself, part of his soul has been separated. Like a broken bone, it needs to be set; sharply pushed together with the whole in order for it to heal in the right place. Moreover, disclosing this information must be done with a lot of care.

With the words in mind, Thranduil spoke. "Ion-nin, I have just discovered that you will need more tending than I previously thought."

"Oh…" Legolas's eyes were downcast as he contemplated on these words, some of the tension visibly leaving his body. "What do you mean, Ada?"

Yes, what did he mean? In trying to ease the information's passing he was wasting precious time. Things needed to be sped along. Thranduil spoke, determined to say all that was needed.

"Your fëa.. Is more damaged than I thought."

"Is it cut?" Legolas asked.

"Not exactly. I came across a small crack.. a fracture."

Legolas looked perplexed. "Is that like the time Elrohir fractured his leg while climbing a tree?"

Thranduil nodded. "Yes. Except that was bone. Your soul is different and injuring it is much more dangerous."

Thranduil saw the flash of fear, wishing he had not needed to use such harsh wording with his son. He reached out a hand, grounding the elfling where he lay. "Legolas, look at me," he commanded.

The elfling looked up at his father, both fear and hope betrayed on his face.

Thranduil's tone softened. "It is alright to be frightened, I was the first time too." Of course the Elvenking was leaving out that Legolas's injury was worse than his had been, but he did not want to cause the boy any undo fear.

Legolas' eyebrows soared above his eyes. Thranduil had never told him many stories of his youth, and certainly never hinted to him about any fears he may have had in that time. Legolas had always envisioned his father as being a courageous elfling back then, never fearing anything. To suddenly hear that his father was afraid of something came as quite the shock but what was more of shock was that his Ada had experienced the same kind of injury he did.

"You had a fracture too?" Legolas asked.

"Yes," Thranduil admitted. "I was even more afraid than you to have it healed, and went so far as to run away and hide under my bed. But my father easily found me."

"What did he do when he found you?"

"He spoke. For the longest time I heard nothing else but his voice. It was not harsh or firm, only calm as he briefly told me of the pain and then of the wonderful feeling that is experienced during the healing. The curiosity of what that would be like overcame much of the fear in me."

Legolas looked curious as well, just as Thranduil had hoped. He continued, dreading the next words, but he would not let his son be unprepared.

"There is one more thing you must know. During the healing, you will feel some pain… It will be hard to bare." Thranduil let these words stand on their own.

Legolas shook his head, not liking the sound of that one bit. "No, I don't want to…."

"You must, ion-nin." Thranduil caressed his cheek . "I promise you that any pain you feel will be brief and I will help you through it, just as my father did for me."

Legolas stayed silent, still a little afraid.

Thranduil spoke again in hopes of giving his son a little courage. "It is not that bad Legolas, I promise you."

Legolas was indecisive on the matter. On the one hand, he really wanted to prove that he was brave, but thinking about the pain he would feel made him want to curl into a ball and forget the whole thing. On the other hand though, Legolas remembered his father warning him that the pain would only worsen if he wasn't healed. That sounded really scary.

"…Okay. I will try to be strong," came the hesitant and quiet response.

Thranduil smiled proudly, kissing his son's temple. "I know you will." He held out his free hand to the boy.

Legolas looked at it, confused.

"When the pain becomes the hardest to bare I want you to squeeze my hand. That way you will know that there is only about five seconds to go. I want you to count them out loud when the time comes." At a nod from Legolas, Thranduil said one last thing, making sure to keep his voice gentle. "Keep still and I will not have to do this again."

With a last glance to his son and a deep breath to steady his own nerves, the Elvenking placed his hand ever-gently over his son's heart and waited for Legolas to brace himself. Once he was certain that Legolas was prepared, the king whispered the elvish healing words and a much brighter glow ebbed to life from his palm once again.

Legolas clenched the duvet at the first sting of pain. It wasn't very strong and he easily refrained from voicing his distress. The next few seconds the pain came and went, allowing Legolas to sufficiently brace himself before more came.

Thranduil did his best to focus on the healing instead of his son's pained flinches, but he found it quite difficult to do so. Abruptly, Legolas's heartbeat quickened, and he ran his fingers through the young one's hair to help ease his pain. The pounding beneath his palm slowed and Legolas held his gaze. Thranduil could see that his child was putting trust in his ability not to mess up and hurt him, though still slightly feared it happening.

Putting aside his own stress, he spoke. "Not for much longer. Sîdha," Thranduil crooned, continuing to stroke the golden tresses.

Legolas tried breathing through the tight burning sensation in his chest, finding it easier to do so with the comforting motions through his hair. Not for the first time, Legolas was glad his father was there with him. Suddenly, something unexpected happened; the glow of Thranduil's palm brightened.

Legolas flinched under the hand pressed against him as the pain ratcheted to an intense level. It no longer came in waves but was constantly there now and his body was strongly urging his lugs to crying out.

Sensing that his son would not take much more, Thranduil held out his hand to him. "Squeeze my hand, Legolas. It will help." Legolas took the hand without protest, squeezing it hard, much harder than Thranduil thought he would. But the pain didn't subside much. It was like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, drawing ever nearer to the edge with each agonized breath, and after a few more moments Legolas could bear no more.

"Ada!"

Thranduil immediately stopped, jerking his head upward to meet his son's glassy eyes.

"Hurts. No more… saes," Legolas begged, pressing his own hand to his chest as if to ease the burning there.

Thranduil could not believe what was happening. This was a highly unusual occurrence. Even though Legolas was so young, he still had quite a high pain threshold. He never cried out unless the pain was unbearable, which meant that it was. But the Elvenking didn't understand how that could be when the healing was not even halfway finished yet. Thranduil had never experienced this much pain when he had to endure the same healing, so why was it different for his son? The king's heart was breaking at the harm he was causing but he had no choice. If Legolas was not healed he would live as a broken elfling that eventually died from such damage. Thranduil knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never ever forgive himself if Legolas died from his own incompetence, burdened with carrying the weight of an empty heart until finally fading. Thranduil sighed heavily. It would do no good to think of such things. Legolas was alive, not dead. Treating him as such only caused undo harm to himself and served as a distraction from what truly mattered.

Thranduil spoke, voice heavy with regret. "I do not know what is causing you such severe pain, ion nin, but I must finish healing you."

Legolas said nothing, still trying to overcome the residual pain.

"I would take your place if I could." Thranduil could barely get the words out before Legolas stared into his eyes, conveying such utter vulnerability and pain that it made the Elvenking internally wince.

"Seas," Legolas whimpered, a lone tear streaking down his face.

That did it. Whatever resolve Thranduil had when healing the boy had vanished. Legolas would not suffer anymore. He wouldn't allow it. There had to be a way to heal him painlessly. But did such a method exist? Pain was very much a part of soul healing, as was the pleasure. Nothing could be done to change it as far as the Elvenking knew. But… maybe he didn't have to. There was another method, he realized. Only in times of great need was it ever done due to its extreme effect on the body, but he would pay any price to ease his son's pain.

Thranduil rubbed his thumb across Legolas's small hand. "Ion-nin, you must allow me to continue healing you. There will be less pain this time, nothing like before."

To Thranduil's relief and surprise, Legolas spoke, voice thick. "You promise?"

"I promise," he replied sincerely, not breaking eye contact.

Legolas nodded and anxiously waited for the healing to continue, with more bravery than Thranduil thought he possessed. He gently lifted Legolas's hand from his chest and replaced it with his own, speaking the invocation

Legolas flinched as the pain came again, but it only lasted a fraction of a second before an incredible amount of strength infused into him, making the burning almost nonexistent and much easier to manage this time. Curious as to what was causing this strange feeling, Legolas opened his eyes. One look at his father gave him all he needed to know.

Thranduil nodded slowly to confirm his son's suspicious, muscles already weakening from the absence of a large portion of strength. In turn, Legolas felt the warmth in his chest return and this time it flooded his senses, filling him with a feeling of wholeness and calm, taking away all remnants of pain. His father's fëa held his own, giving him the sensations of diving into a pleasantly cold and rejuvenating spring, and it was wonderful. Thranduil could also feel his son's fëa more strongly. It felt like being bathed in sunlight on a warm summer's day, pleasantly intensifying as the healing neared its end. Though it only took a few moments for the damage to be repaired, it seemed much longer when the healing was complete.

Thranduil was pleasantly surprised to see Legolas sleeping soundly, a small smile on his lips that also elicited a smile from Thranduil as he drew up the covers around his son's arms. Planting a kiss to his forehead, Thranduil laid down beside him, draping an arm around his son.

But sleep would not claim him that night.

There were so many confusing and troubling thoughts swirling around in his mind to find any peace or solace. One of the main concerns was why Legolas had screamed. Thranduil had a hunch it had something to do with the trauma of the nightmare, but all possibilities needed to be considered. That other possibility, was the elf lord.

The Elvenking knew that Elrond was a kind hearted elf that would sooner see himself killed that to hurt anyone, especially Legolas. Thranduil no longer harbored any doubt of this due, in no small part, to the vow of peace. Legolas also knew of this vow, and yet, still seemed almost deathly afraid of the healer, as if believing Elrond was a vile monster intent on harm. What had the peredhel done to inspire such fear in his son? Or had he done anything? Moreover, what of the nightmare? The bits and pieces of his son's screaming pleas didn't really tell him much about the nature of it, but for a nightmare to mar an elf's fëa it must have been quite powerful indeed, anchored by a deep fear within Legolas. But that didn't really point to any clues either. Thranduil didn't have the faintest idea what Legolas so greatly feared. The only fears Thranduil recalled, were the minor fear of the dark at 200 years-old; equivalent to five in human years, and fear of going to the healer's when he was about 250.

One thing was certain, Legolas held all the answers. Elrond likely knew some of them as well, but more importantly, unlike his son, the lord of Imladris would speak openly of them if asked. But that would be tomorrow. Right now, Thranduil needed to keep close to Legolas. A healing fëa was still very delicate and fragile, and he couldn't risk another nightmare undoing all his work.

With a resigned sigh, Thranduil settled his head against the soft pillows and watched over his son as he slept, determined to spot any signs of a nightmare before they had a chance to harm his Greenleaf; his heart.

Author's note: So what do you think? Did the fëa healing live up to your expectations? Do you feel like screaming into your pillow from the fluffiness? I did ;)