Author's note: A huge thank you one and all for all of your love regarding this story! We reached the milestone of 50 reviews! Wow! Thank you for staying with this story for twelve weeks, and for not giving up on me despite the two-week mini hiatus. I know it's late in the week and after midnight now, but this chapter refused to be written any sooner, so any complaints will have to be taken up with my muse.

A big thank you to the amazing people who reviewed the last chapter: AraneltheSilvan, MariaJulietBituin, Nina, and margie-me! You guys made it possible to reach this milestone. Let's shoot for 60!

This chapter is the longest one yet, so I hope it makes up for the tardiness. Please enjoy!

Chapter Ten: What Did You Say?

~LOTRLOTRLOTR~

Elrond told the king everything, leaving out the part about the attacking trees. When finished, Thranduil looked ready to tackle the elf lord to the floor all over again.

"Why would you try to approach him when it was obvious that he was terrified of you?" Thranduil roared, voice shaking with barely concealed anger.

Elrond was not the slightest bit intimidated by the stormy grey eyes almost dissecting his soul. "I suppose there was still a part of me that believed Legolas had moved past his fear of me. When I saw a glimpse of that fear my instinct was to help."

Thranduil heard the hurt in the Noldor's tone, but it didn't serve to dissipate much of his anger. Rather, it only created more.

"It matters not to me what your intentions were, peredhel," he almost spat, "you should have left him alone. Legolas's fëa has already been damaged once." Thranduil closed his eyes in frustration. He had meant to deliver that piece of information with much more tact. As expected, Elrond's eyes widened in bewilderment as though he saw an orc standing before him wearing a pink dress.

Thranduil gave a placated sigh, some of his anger replaced by the doubt and worry. "I meant to deliver the news more gently."

Elrond took the seat offered to him, brow so creased a deep line seemed to split his forehead in two. It was several minutes before he spoke, in a whisper that betrayed the abject sorrow. "I should have known. The strength you gave.. it was all to heal him not calm him."

"Yes. I do not know how it happened or when. That is information that has eluded me since all this came into being." He cocked his head a little to the side. "But make no mistake, Elrond, you are involved somehow. I do not know how or why, but the proof of my words is lying unconscious in my bed."

Elrond couldn't deny that, grunting in agreement. "I assume that you healed him yourself."

"I healed him last night after you left, Thranduil replied coldly. "But the damage to his mind is apparently not."

"Young elven souls are fragile but they are also embowed with tremendous strength. Legolas possesses one of the strongest souls, which would be a feat for even Sauron himself corrupt. However, besides the forces of evil, there are two other causes for such a travesty. You know one of them well."

"Extreme sorrow," Thranduil answered.

Elrond nodded. "The pain of your father's passing fractured a piece of yourself, but what you may not know is that extreme fear can also be a catalyst." Elrond's complexion visibly paled. "You are Legolas's father and as such you share a certain bond with him I do not. Last night, when he screamed at me…. do you think that is when it happened?"

"No, it was not," Thranduil answered quickly. "His soul was in great turmoil even before that, during the nightmare."

Elrond looked visibly relieved at the news. "Yes, I remember his scream waking me from a deep sleep." Elrond rubbed a hand over his face, the memory of the shrill and pained scream playing back in his mind before he controlled it. "Assuming that there is no malevolent darkness dwelling in the shadowed corners of his room, the nightmare would have to be horrific. Real enough to make Legolas truly fear for his very life and the lives of his loved ones. Do you know anything of the nature of this nightmare? Something that could link its cause to a recent incident."

The Elvenking shook his head. "I only received bits and pieces from incoherent mutterings. It is all worthless."

Elrond's face pinched in contemplation. Then he spoke. "Not necessarily. Words spoken audibly carry with them a certain power, and in dreams that power may be tempered but their message is still just as important, if not more so. Many times I have found that it is beneficial to study them in order to better know ourselves and the past and present occurrences of the world around us. In my case, I mostly dream of the things that have not come to pass, or as you know them, prophecies."

Thranduil inclined his head in agreement. "I admit that your insights have greatly helped us in the war against The Shadow, but those were just that, insights. How can we glean anything of importance from an elfling's nightmare?"

Thranduil's frustration was clear, but Elrond was not going to give up. "Tell me what you first heard him say and continue from there," he instructed.

Thranduil began speaking, having memorized everything from the night before. "Legolas begged for me to help him, and when he awakened, he asked me why I didn't… come to his aid and fight harder to reach him when he.. called for me." Thranduil swallowed the lump in his throat and continued on. "Then you entered the room."

Elrond nodded grimly, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace in front of the hearth. "Did he say anything else that night?"

"Yes, before the healing began Legolas begged me not to let you heal him," Thranduil replied despondently. Then, his expression changed. "Legolas told me that he saw you threaten to kill me."

Elrond took the seat beside him, put there in preparation for their meeting. "That very well may be what did this, but we must not raise false hopes. As to what else was said, you were right. I cannot make good judgment upon only fragments of truth; which is what you have given me. Nor should I, for that matter. It would be an abuse of my power at this point because I would be intruding upon his deepest secrets; thoughts and desires he keeps closest to his heart and hidden from the world."

Thranduil did not make a move to sit but remained standing near his son's bedside. "If you had the information, would it change your mind?" he asked neutrally.

"Not unless I was given permission to do so or it would help us secure a victory in the war against the Shadow. That is the vow I made and I will not break it, even for you."

Thranduil nodded in assent, expecting no less.

"However," Elrond continued, standing up and walking over to the bed. "it does bring to mind something I must ask you now before another word is spoken." He lightly brushed his hand over the elfling, hovering it an inch above his body so as not to touch him.

"Speak your mind," Thranduil said, coming to stand on the other side.

"How severe was the damage to his soul?"

Thranduil was surprised at himself for not speaking of it sooner, and answered: "I found a shallow fracture."

The elf lord grasped onto the bedpost as if he would fall. "Oh Valar! What have I done…" he said quietly, knowing the pain that Legolas had gone through.

Thranduil numbly held his son's hand, paying little heed to anything else other than the steady pulse under his finger. Well, at least Legolas could not be plagued by nightmares, he thought. In order to dream elves needed to have their eyes open, otherwise, they saw only darkness; as pitch as their surroundings. Not for the first time, Thranduil regretted having such a small window installed. Lamps dispelled the darkness by night, but in the day the sunlight could not seem to reach the right angle to illuminate much of the room.

Thranduil's glow brightened slightly and he held his hand over his son's closed eyes. "Remember the light, Legolas, and return to it when you are ready." With a sigh, Thranduil dimmed his glow and returned his arm to his side. He wanted to wake his son and hold him again, almost yearned for it. But Legolas likely needed the rest to be unconscious for so long. He would let his son sleep for the time being; free from pain and fear. "There is something more I must tell you."

Slowly, with laborious effort, Elrond put aside his grief and approached him. "What is it, Thranduil?"

The Elvenking's eyes shined as he spoke. "Legolas voiced his pain during the healing. He actually cried out."

The elf lord straightened and held the gaze of the Elvenking, his face a canvas of concern barely hiding his own turmoil. "Pain is regretfully unavoidable in soul healing, nothing can be done to make it disappear completely. But there are ways of overcoming it such as giving strength and comfort in order to distract the mind from what is done to the body, as you have done."

"I gave it too late. I did not realize his pain until he screamed," Thranduil said morosely.

"Do not blame yourself for this, Thranduil. Legolas is very skilled at hiding his pain, even from me. His tolerance is very high, which will be beneficial to him as a warrior. He paused. "But it greatly worries me that the healing was painful enough to elicit an audible response from Legolas. I myself know of only one patient that underwent such similar tribulation."

"Who?" Thranduil asked.

"A human female child by the name of Sarah."

I do not recognize the name. Has she ever been to Mirkwood? Thranduil asked.

"No. She lives in a village a few miles from my home. Sarah did not have a good childhood. Some children don't, but hers was especially horrible. When she was seven she was forced to watch her entire family being torn apart by Wargs. The child's nightmares were so severe and frequent that her relatives oft had to spend nights secluded in a nearby inn until morning. It was only when the girl complained of pain in the chest that they enlisted the aid of an elven healer. Not I but someone who is known to me. So great was the damage to the child's soul that she screamed during the examination; which you know is not supposed to hurt, and eventually much strength had to be lent in order for the healing to be completed without killing her."

Thranduil felt physically ill at the description. "What a horrible thing to experience. I cannot imagine what it would be like to undergo such suffering."

"Nor I," Elrond admitted. After a short pause, he spoke again. "I hope I am not right but is it possible that the damage to Legolas' soul was greater than what you perceived then? The fact remains that you are out of practice with this type of healing, and that is usually when most mistakes occur."

Thranduil shook his head. "I made absolutely sure I was thorough. I found only a small shallow fracture, nothing more."

Elrond spoke, though his voice was far less authoritative and the words themselves were hindered. "You must check for more damage."

Thranduil frowned, not expecting those words. An elflng's fëa, though stronger after a healing, was still vulnerable and could be damaged more easily because of it. "Surely you don't think…"

"The fear I caused him was great," Elrond replied distantly, dolefully staring down at Legolas's sleeping form.

Thranduil also watched his sleeping son, making careful note of the smooth brow and peaceful expression on his face. If he were to examine him internally again, Thranduil knew it would be far more uncomfortable for Legolas than it did last time due to his soul being delicate from the recent healing. Examinations were not done past that point for this reason. These were the emotions that showed through his gaze when he faced Elrond.

"I cannot bring myself to cause him more pain, even necessary pain."

"You must," Elrond pressed.

"No, you do not understand. You did not see what happened to him last night, Elrond. The healing was very hard for him to bear, and it is only his high pain threshold that preserved his strength enough for mine to have any affect. With a healing fëa, the examination will not just be uncomfortable. It will hurt and I have no way of easing it..."

Thranduil breathed in deeply. "Legolas will not go through that hell again, I'll find some other way." Thranduil felt a hand on his shoulder but did not turn his attention away from Legolas. The Noldor would not talk him out of his decision.

"Let me lend him my strength this time," Elrond suggested.

Thranduil had to admit the distal answer was unexpected, but he would not be moved. "It will not be enough. You are drained as much as I am if not more so. Expending any more of your strength could prove detrimental to your health and I will not be responsible for sending a partially dead healer back to your people."

"Yes, I am a healer, Thranduil. I lend portions of my strength on a daily basis to my patients in order to give their bodies the extra energy they need to heal. But I am used to exerting myself and I recover much quicker than most because of this."

Thranduil admitted that Elrond looked much stronger than he had that morning, but he was still not comfortable with it and the doubt showed.

"Please let me do this for your son. Though I do not know what I have done to torment him so, Legolas is injured because of me. If I am able to help your son it may make up for the gargantuan mistake I've made with my own."

Thranduil sighed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. "You know parental guilt is my weakness."

"Is it working?" Elrond inquired hopefully.

Everything in the king was telling him to let his son be after all the child endured the night before. Though, at the same time, he worried if what Elrond said was true. Could the incident in the garden have ruined all his work? Thranduil did not know the answer, but he knew he needed to be sure that his son's spirit was completely whole. That alone was enough for him to give his permission.

"Alright, but we do this quickly," Thranduil said, still not completely confident but having no other choice.

Elrond nodded.

Before Thranduil could change his mind, he placed his hand to his son's chest for the second time in two days, closing his eyes in deep concentration as he spoke the binding words.

The reaction was immediate: Legolas's breath hitched and he moaned in discomfort.

"Now, Elrond!" Thranduil ordered, and Elrond immediately laid his hand beside the Elvenking's, whispering a few binding words in Quenya. He was unable to hide a small gasp as the energy left his body, nor hide the brief waver of his legs, but he stood tall a moment later. Thranduil gave him an apathetic look but did not linger for long, turning complete focus to the task at hand. Though in sleep, Legolas tried to move away from their touch, but the firm hand of the healer kept him still while the Elvenking did his part. Each one hoped that their tasks would be completed quickly for both could feel the tensing of the child's muscles.

Both elves winced when Legolas whimpered, the sound cutting them deep. Thranduil did not need to implore the healer to comfort his son for Elrond was already stroking Legolas's cheek. Much to the peredhel's surprise and Thranduil's relief, Legolas soon leaned into his touch and quieted.

"Please forgive me, penneth," Elrond whispered as he held the elfling still.

~LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR~

After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, Thranduil withdrew his hand. "Valar be praised, he is completely whole," he breathed, slumping down into his chair.

Elrond said nothing, remaining unmoving in the chair.

The Elvenking had been watching Elrond mentally war with himself since he came into the room. In truth, he had derived some satisfaction from it, but no more. It was clear that the peredhel's heart was heavy, almost painfully so, with grief and self-loathing; two things Thranduil was all too familiar with. Though he had doubted it at first, it was now clear to him that the Elrond that harmed his son was no longer before him, but a grief-stricken healer who broke the sacred bond of trust. Though a part of him ached to see Elrond in such a state, he did not interfere, knowing that any form of comfort would not be welcomed or do any good.

However, his disposition changed when Elrond's shoulders slumped, his head falling into his hands.

Forgetting his own fatigue, Thranduil stood up and moved closer to Elrond who still remained standing by the bed. He had been intent on comfort, but his heart clenched when he noticed the faint bruises that adorned his head. Taking the liberty of rolling up the sleeves of his robe, he found bluish-purple bruises littering both arms. Elrond tried to pull away, but Thranduil did not allow it, acting the part of a healer assessing the injuries of his patient.

"Ow!"

"Hold still."

"Don't press so hard and I will," Elrond bit back.

"The pressure is needed to reduce the bleeding."

"You are just creating more bruises!"

"It's hard not to when they practically cover every inch of your arms!"

"I don't have that many."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

Thranduil released his hold but did not roll down the sleeves. "Did anyone ever tell you that you make a horrendous patient?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jar, facing his patient.

"Once or twice." Elrond spoke again, "Why do you carry a jar of salve in your pocket?" the healer asked curiously.

"When Legolas was a child he would often acquire cuts and bruises. Though he is no longer a child, I still carry it with me just in case." Thranduil smiled nostalgically at the memory. He missed caring for his son in that way and felt a little hurt that Legolas had not come to him after the sparring accident, probably taking great pains to hide the injury. But Thranduil still noticed the bulge of bandages under his tunic, and the bowl of cold water in his room was not exactly a normal occurrence.

Elrond smiled softly at him. "You are a good father, Thranduil. Legolas is very fortunate to have you."

"I try to be," Thranduil replied. He unscrewed the lid and dipped a few fingers into the jar, coating them with the sticky green substance.

"I can manage it on my own, you know."

"I know, but some of these bruises might not be the entire fault of the trees. Please allow me to make amends for the harsh way I treated you."

Elrond nodded in understanding, nothing more needing to be said. To the healer's surprise, Thranduil was very gentle as he applied the salve, barely brushing the skin as he covered every bruise in a coat of the salve that was nicely even, in Elrond's expert opinion.

Thranduil spoke. "You seem surprised."

"I admit I was expecting a much rougher treatment." Elrond spoke again, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. "Since when did you become so learned in the practices of healing?"

"How did you come by so many bruises?" Thranduil countered.

"I asked you first."

"Yes, but you're forgetting that I am the King," Thranduil declared haughtily.

The elf lord mock-sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. Some things had not changed.

"Fine. You win. The trees of your realm pelted me with the solid fruit of their branches as I escaped with your son."

"Whatever did you do to upset them so grievously?" Thranduil asked, though his calm demeanor did not fool the dark-haired elf in the least.

"I did not know at first, but then I understood that they thought I harmed Legolas," Elrond replied, feeling a stab of guilt.

"What did you do to make them think this?"

Of course, a wood elf on the side of the trees, why was he not surprised. Thranduil's tone was dangerously calm, trying to seek out any hidden truths, so he would need to tread carefully.

The healer stood his ground, defiant in the face of the obvious tactics of intimidation. "The first time Legolas avoided me, I told you I gave chase, but it was when Legolas… passed out that the attack began."

To his surprise, the Elvenking let out a small chuckle.

Elrond's face slightly reddened with annoyance. "One of your guests getting bullied by your trees is funny to you?"

Thranduil had to choke back another laugh, imagining the peredhel running away from an onslaught of nuts and pinecones. It must have been a sight! He barely got out the words.

"Well, I dare say you will need my son's help before you are able to step foot outside again. By tomorrow, every tree in Mirkwood will be your enemy."

Elrond rolled his eyes and this was the final thing to set Thranduil tumbling over the edge with laughter.

He calmed soon after, the glint of mirth having disappeared. "Thank you, I have needed that," Thranduil said, wiping his eyes of the mirthful tears.

Elrond mock-glared at him. He couldn't be too upset with him though, for it was plain to see that no one needed to laugh more than the king of the woodland realm. The same must hold true for his people.

"After you left I studied all I could in case you never returned."

Elrond had almost not heard him, too deep in thought. "What amazes me is that you found time to do so. Medicine is one field that will always be never ending in knowledge, so no matter how much you think you know there will always be more opportunities to expand upon it."

"Where there is a will there is a way." Thranduil paused, a sigh escaping his lips. "I do not yet possess the will to forgive you for what you did to me and to Legolas, though, I do not blame you for your actions today."

Elrond looked up at this, hopeful but also quite skeptical. "The former I expected, but I put your son's life at risk with my actions. You have every right to blame me."

"I did at first, but now I realize that I cannot blame you for doing something that I would have done," Thranduil replied, pulling up his chair closer to the bed so he could hold his son's hand again. "I know that If Legolas feared me I would stop at nothing to get to the bottom of it. Speaking of which, there is one thing I have been pondering. Your actions last night were most unusual."

"If you are referring to my anonymous entrance last night, I do not think you would have permitted my entrance if you knew who I was," Elrond replied.

"No, you are right, I would not. Still, your method was most unorthodox," Thranduil replied.

"Perhaps," Elrond agreed. "Though that is not the only reason I did it. In truth, I wanted to gauge Legolas's reaction toward me without the bias of knowing who it was."

"What did you hope to accomplish by this?" Thranduil asked, curious as to what the answer would be.

"I had hoped to confirm or disprove that I unknowingly facilitated such fear, but it was confirmed as soon as Legolas saw my face."

Thranduil nodded, knowing it to be true. He gently applied another coating of salve onto a particularly wicked looking bruise and wondered if it was caused by his crushing grip earlier.

"While I am working on your other arm, I have a delicate matter to discuss with you," Thranduil said, attempting to move his dreary thoughts elsewhere.

"I expected as much after you told me you had need of my counsel." Elrond said, waiting patiently for Thranduil to begin what was sure to be a very long conversation. He gave equal patience to the healing treatment as well, though it was more than a little uncomfortable, even with the Elvenking's gentle touch. The hard projectiles striking his skin at such speed had made it very tender, sensitive to even the slightest touch. That is why he sighed in relief when Thranduil finished, although, it was clear that the Elvenking was slightly hurt by it.

"Was it that bad?"

"No," Elrond responded quickly. "you did well. The flesh is just tender, that is all."

Thranduil nodded, accepting the answer. "What I mean to speak with you about concerns your sons."

Elrond ran his free hand over his face in exasperation, a very uncharacteristic sound escaping his lips. "What have they done now?"

Thranduil cut straight to the point, wanting to save the peredhel from his destructive thoughts. "Either one or both of your son's told Legolas of the gruesome practices that orcs have used against our kin." The king reclaimed the healer's arm, spreading the rest of the salve on before switching to the next arm. Elrond's face was ashen, and it was clear that he was in a state of shock, but Thranduil saw beyond it, to the deep pain and grief that rested beneath the surface.

Thranduil spoke gently, resting a comforting hand on the peredhel's shoulder. "Forgive me. I know of the manner in which your beloved was taken from you and I do not wish you to suffer the remembrance. Therefore, you must believe that I would not have asked this of you if I had a choice."

Elrond nodded, his face solemn as he spoke. "Do you know how far they went?"

"Legolas said they mentioned the torture of the body and spirit. How much detail they gave, I do not know, but he was adamant in his belief that his hair and teeth would fall out and he would turn into one of those monsters. Legolas truly believed that he would turn into an orc, and it took some work on my part to convince him otherwise. If I had not been able to he may not have let me heal him." Thranduil visibly shuddered as he spoke the last words.

"In the span of a few days my sons have managed to put your son's life at risk and quite possibly terrify the boy for years to come." Elrond clasped his hands on his lap, staring morosely at them. "So it is true, the passing of their mother has truly changed them." The healer cut his eyes to Thranduil. "This is in no way my attempt at justifying their actions, mind you, but my son's used to be joyful and lively, a love of pranks and practical jokes nearly driving out every guest we have ever had. But now they are melancholic and speak to no one, except your son, it would seem."

Elrond stared at the hearth for a moment and frowned, meeting the Elvenking's waiting gaze. "I will confront them about this and get their sides of the story before an action is taken. If it matches what your son has told you, which I have no doubt it will, then I personally place my sons in your hands for a just punishment."

Thranduil searched for a mischievous twinkle or some other tell that Elrond was joking, but there were none.

"You are really serious, aren't you?"

The elf lord inclined his head. "My sons need to learn that their actions have consequences. Since Legolas was the one that was wronged, it is only right that his father be the one to pass judgment once more. But If I am being honest, I, myself, see no punishment that is fitting enough for this terrible grievance. Again."

"I will take your wishes into consideration. Again," Thranduil said with a hint of a smile, before sparing a glance at Legolas sleeping soundly in his bed. They were silent for a time before Elrond broke the silence.

"I assume my sons are locked away in your dungeon."

So he was going there. "They were, but now they are likely in their chambers."

Elrond seemed perplexed at this but then apparently answered his own question. "How did they take their punishment?"

"Better than I had expected." Thranduil suddenly faced the healer, placing both of his hands on his shoulders. There is something I must tell you. I have only waited this long because of the distraction at finding Legolas unconscious but it cannot wait another minute. I warn you that what I am about to tell you is deeply troubling and will not be easy to hear."

Elrond's gaze darkened. "Go on."

"When I paid a visit to them in my dungeons, your sons showed almost a complete lack of empathy for what they did. It seemed they care more for each other and Legolas was simply an afterthought. Elrohir displayed the worst of this, and nothing, save my sword, could change it."

Elrond arched a brow. "Should I have reason to be concerned?"

"Hardly. Your sons do not even bear a scratch. The sword was mostly a means to evoke a reaction and prove a theory."

"What theory, Thranduil? What are you not telling me?" Elrond asked impatiently. Sometimes a fast truth was better than a drawn out explanation.

"I was not sure before, but now I have no doubt that your sons… are tainted."

Author's note: This would normally be the part where I say we are halfway done or there are only a few chapters left, but I find that in some cases it can ruin plot points, so I will leave you all with a question. How do you think Elrond will react?

As always, feel free to review, fav, and follow! The next update is Saturday, and the twins will be back!