Chapter 21: Athaleas

~LOTRLOTRLOTR~

Both King and Prince spent the next few hours in companionable silence, savoring the feeling of flying over the green grass. Though the ElvenKing's horse was faster, he kept pace with the prince. After all, the whole point of the ride was to spend time with him. Thranduil thanked the Valar that the ride was helping his son forget his worries temporarily and was content with watching Legolas more than the path ahead. It didn't really matter though. The horse would keep baring straight no matter where the king placed his attentions. He just had to be mindful not to pull the reins in another direction.

Legolas felt his father's eyes on him and looked over, smiling brightly.

Thranduil smiled brightly in return, cherishing the joy on his son's face and feeling joy himself. They had both been through so much, Legolas most of all. This ride was what they both desperately needed.

Soon, the archery fields came into view and were quickly passed. Thranduil made sure he held his son's attention before raising up two fingers.

Legolas nodded in understanding. He almost couldn't believe that they had traveled ten miles already. Legolas patted its neck and spoke soothingly. "Just a little longer and then you may rest and have a reward."

The horse nickered, urged on by the promise of the reward it would soon acquire.

About a half hour later they arrived at a grove of trees lining the edge of the forest, hugged by a winding stream. Both king and prince dismounted, leading their horses to water themselves.

Legolas suddenly jumped up onto a branch of one of the trees and a few seconds later, shouted, "Catch, ada!"

Thranduil caught each of apples as they fell. There were 4 in total cradled in his arms by the time Legolas jumped down. He tossed Legolas one of the apples and Legolas caught it with one hand.

"Hannon le." Legolas took a bite before plopping down by the trunk of the tree, leaning back against it.

Thranduil settled down beside his son, placing all but one apple on the grass beside them, and leaned back. The trunk of the tree was quite wide, so they could both lean against it comfortably. Thranduil was glad that they had decided to change into appropriate clothes for sparing. The same clothes could then be used for riding. It would have been very hard to ride 12 miles in a bushy robe.

"So how did you tame the captain's horse so quickly?" Legolas asked.

The king thought about the answer for a moment, and then replied. "Let me answer your question with a question. What was occupying your mind when you were trying to gain its trust."

"Thoughts of being thrown of its back came to mind," Legolas responded.

"Ah, that is why you failed to gain its trust. Horses are sensitive creatures that can sense fear or unease. The only way to safely approach an unfamiliar horse is with confidence."

"Is that what you did?"

"Yes, I did," Thranduil answered.

Legolas was still unsure how it was possible to do this. "But how do you purge yourself from all fear when you know what could happen to you?"

"You don't. The fear will linger if it is strong enough, so the only way to be temporarily rid of it is by clearing your mind of all thoughts."

"I suppose that makes sense." Legolas did not mention the injuries he received when he did not follow this advice, not wanting to worry his father over something that happened so long ago. Instead, he broached a new topic of conversation. "Isn't the captain going to need his horse?"

Thranduil shook his head. "The captain is training new recruits for the patrol for the next week. As long as we are back by then it will be fine. Besides, I have been given permission to ride his horse if I could gain its trust. Does that answer all your questions?"

"Yes," Legolas replied.

Thranduil thought back to the taming. There had been a lingering fear at the back of his mind that the horse would not take kindly to any of the techniques used and would trample his son as it darted out of the stables. That had been very hard to ignore, which is why Thranduil had not let it out of its stall until he was sure it would remain docile. As it was, the moment the Elvenking had mounted the horse tried to throw the elf off its back. Thranduil shuddered to think what might have happened if those last spoken words had not worked. Would Legolas have gotten out of its path in time?

A weary sigh pulled the king from his musings and he focused on his son. Legolas was currently standing on his knees, grasping the trunk and staring at the forest. Thranduil knew the ride could not have kept his son's attentions forever, but he was still disappointed that the joy of it had not lingered in the young ones mind strongly enough to distract from the destructive thoughts for a while longer.

"I know you fear for them, Legolas, but there is naught we can do but pray to the Valar for their safety," Thranduil reaffirmed.

"I know, and I have been praying. I just wish I knew what was happening to them," Legolas admitted ruefully.

"That is a concern that I share as well."

Legolas silently looked on. The forest looked incredibly daunting, not at all resembling what it had once been. Legolas had many fond memories of playing beneath the boughs of the green trees. The twins used to visit often and play games with the young prince. They would chase each other through the Greenwood or sword fight using fallen sticks they found on the ground. Many times they even went riding together or climbed trees. Though, Elrohir usually just stayed on the ground, ignoring the teasing from his brother. Elladan, on the other hand, loved to climb trees and even had asked Legolas to teach him the language of the Greenwood trees. The twin had tried very hard to learn it, the level of dedication shown surprising the prince. By the end of his training Elladan had learned enough to be able understand some common words and phrases. The look on the twin's face when he recognized the phrase 'friend' had been worth all the effort. Now it seemed that fond memories would be all that would be left of them. Legolas desperately hoped he was wrong.

"Legolas?"

At the mention of his name the elfling turned around, greeted with the sight of both horses standing expectantly around his father. Legolas stifled a laugh with the back of his hand at the sight.

"I think they want their reward now," Thranduil said, amused.

"I think you are right. Let's feed them at the same time so they don't get jealous."

"Good idea." Thranduil pulled a few strands of his hair away from the horse and Legolas laughed musically.

Thranduil mock glowered. "It isn't funny, Legolas. Do you know how long it would take to grow my hair back?"

Legolas laughed even harder, imagining his bald father explaining to their friends how he lost his hair to a horse. He tried to steady his voice. "Wouldn't… it just grow back in a few months?"

"Absolutely not! Try 3000 years," Thranduil exclaimed, and the urgent tone of voice sent Legolas into another fit of laughter. Thranduil continued, inwardly beaming. "If our hair grew at the rate of a human's; given our lifespan, we would be tripping on it everywhere unless we trimmed it twice a year."

Legolas kicked the ground, his hands fisting as he doubled over with laughter. Thranduil laughed as well, unable to keep quiet with the infectious sounds of joy nor from the mirthful emotions that Legolas was sharing with him. A few chuckles and giggles passed their lips as they came down from their mirthful high, both of their faces now a shade of pink.

Knowing that they still hadn't fed the expectant horses, Thranduil handed his son an apple, grabbing the last one for himself. They looked at each other, wanting to get the timing right.

"Ready," Thranduil asked?

Legolas nodded and they both held out their hands at the same time. Due to the large size, the horses ate the entire halves of the apple first, grabbing the rest in one bite. Once finished with their snack the horses lingered for a while longer and then walked away, contented with grazing on grass nearby.

Thranduil propped his head up with his elbow, watching his son.

Legolas was currently staring up at the sky, when he suddenly spoke. "Someday I want to ride an eagle."

"I think that will be a possible," Thranduil replied.

"Really?" Legolas exclaimed. "Have you ever ridden an eagle?"

"No, I cannot say that I have."

The prince hummed in response. "I don't know if I would be good at it. What if I fell off its back somehow?"

"That is not something to worry about. General Gailwei and his eagles have never dropped any of their passengers. Besides, even on the off-chance that you somehow fell, they would not let you hit the ground. So do not fear this."

Legolas nodded, feeling better about it. Then he turned to Thranduil, quizzically. "Why have you never ridden an eagle, ada?"

"I have never needed to. Most who have ridden them have done so out of pure necessity. Either their home was overrun with the enemy or they needed to travel somewhere swiftly. But I am certain that General Gailwei will consent to giving you a ride if I ask."

"I would love to go!" Legolas declared, excited.

"Then I will make preparations for it in the Spring," Thranduil replied, with a smile.

Legolas smiled happily. "I will look forward to it. Hannon le."

"Gi nathlam," Thranduil replied. He could not stifle the abrupt yawn that came.

Legolas noticed his father's fatigue and unknowingly sent a pang of guilt through their bond.

Thranduil felt it and immediately spoke. "No, do not feel guilt. I willingly gave you my strength. You had great need of it and I could bear to see you suffering no longer."

"I know, ada," Legolas admitted. "Though I cannot understand why the healing was so hard for me to bare. It has been weighing on my mind. That night you told me that it wouldn't be that bad, and yet it was. I can't help but think that I have- "

"No, Legolas," Thranduil interrupted. "The fracture was deeper than I had initially noticed and so you did not know what to expect that night. For that I couldn't be more disappointed with myself. You bore the pain bravely, much more bravely than I would have thought and I am beyond impressed that you did not pass out." He continued, sending his son all the positive emotions he felt as he spoke the next words. "You are strong, Legolas. Do not ever doubt that. I am proud of the elf that you have become."

Legolas's breath hitched as he felt the warm emotions flood his being, chasing away all doubt. The prince hadn't been expecting to hear those words, nor feel the powerful emotions that accompanied them. All this time he had believed his tolerance was weak, but to not only hear, but feel that his father was impressed with him, proud of him, made Legolas realize that he was stronger than he thought.

Thranduil saw the myriad of emotions on his son's face until finally a gentle proud smile remained. He had not expected that smile to disappear almost as soon as it had appeared, but it did and Legolas spoke.

"Do not be disappointed with yourself. I am the one who asked you to heal me, despite knowing that your experience was lacking. You tried your best and I am grateful that I am free of pain. You made that possible, ada. Only you."

Thranduil was nearly overcome with relief and the feelings of peace Legolas was sending through their bond was incredibly calming. But Thranduil could not focus on it for very long. The day that Elrond had brought his unconscious son to him gave the king insurmountable fear. Even worse was the few moments that Thranduil had to cause his son some pain to check if the elf lord's actions had harmed his healing soul. That action alone, though unlikely, could have killed his son then and there. Though, even after the second examination the Elvenking kept a hidden fear then that he had not noticed the full extent of the damage that first night and his son would not fully heal; only appear to be whole. This fear had stayed with the king ever since, though it was buried. Now that fear was uncovered and out in the open, ready to be dealt with. And only one person could definitively help the king deal with it and put it to rest, and Thranduil realized that the opportune time was now upon them to do so. But am I ready to know the answer?

Without hesitation, Thranduil spoke. "Legolas, I am going to ask you something and I need you to be absolutely certain of your answer before you speak it."

Legolas nodded, not understanding the urgency but not opposed to answering any question brought forth either.

"Do you feel fully healed?"

Legolas closed his eyes for a full minute, and Thranduil waited with bated breath.

Finally, they opened and to the king's immense relief, a small smile graced his son's face. "Yes, I am fully healed, ada." Legolas thought for a moment. "Lord Elrond said the same."

Thranduil briefly shut his eyes, taking a breath in relief. If both the master healer and Legolas had said as much then the king truly had nothing to fear. The possibility of the contrary had been a heavy weight upon his heart and now that burden was lifted and Thranduil felt lighter.

Now at peace with that situation at least, Thranduil allowed himself to enjoy the feeling a little longer, though fatigue was quickly sneaking up on his senses, making them dull and causing his eyelids to become heavy. The king did not think this very peculiar, having experienced it for several days now. Thranduil decided that resting them for a few minutes couldn't hurt. Then they would go back home. The king could tell that the hour was growing late by the temperature of the air; the way it cooled his throat and lungs when it entered and departed. His elven body was absolutely immune to the slight cold, though the king could still feel it and therefore knew that it would not bother his son. Now assured of Legolas's wellbeing, Thranduil allowed himself to let go, unknowingly slipping out of awareness.

Legolas was glad to have brought his father some relief and was content to wait a short while for the words that would send them riding back home.

But when ten minutes passed and they never came, Legolas grew concerned. He moved closer to his father, carefully observing and taking in every detail of the elf's appearance. Thranduil was lying on his back, absolutely still, his chest rising and falling in a gentle, even rhythm. There was however one aspect that was unnatural though. The closed eyes. Elves only closed their eyes while they slept if they were injured or fatigued to a high degree. His father had a healthy complexion and his brow was smooth, free from any pain. Concluding that Thrandiul was not injured but still exhausted from the recent fëa healing, Legolas kissed his father on the forehead, speaking in a whisper. "Sleep, ada. I will keep watch."

Legolas sat back on his legs and that is when he noticed the makeshift bandage on his ada's hand. The elfling recognized it immediately, as well as his folly in not remembering it sooner. Disappointed with himself, Legolas unwrapped the silken fabric, revealing another layer underneath soaked in dried blood. The prince carefully removed the material, wincing when he laid eyes on the 2 inch crimson cut on his father's palm. It was deep and still seeping blood, though clotting in most places. But it was not a superficial cut, as Thranduil had told him. Legolas pushed away the momentary disappointment at being lied to and continued examining the wound.

Legolas brought the injury to his nose and smelled it, relieved when only the sour metallic scent of blood was all that reached him. But the prince saw something else then as he lowered the hand away from his face. The edges of the wound were slightly reddened, the color faint and not easily detectable. Though the prince didn't know much about medicine, the elfling knew that when a wound became red around the edges it was infected. The faint color of red meant that infection had just begun to set in. Still, he was worried. Infections were not something to treat lightly, for they meant that the wound or injury would not heal properly unless they were treated in time. Furthermore, it looked incredibly painful and the prince was surprised that Thranduil had not complained about it. "Ada, why must you hide your pain from me," Legolas whispered. Fortunately, Legolas knew a little about caring for wounds thanks to the lessons from Lord Elrond, but the prince had never put them into practice except on himself, and those injuries had been minor compared to this.

Sighing heavily, Legolas tossed aside the soaked bandages and carefully put his father's hand down, palm facing up instead of touching the grass. Then he stood, whistling for his horse. She came trotting up to him almost immediately and Legolas grabbed the traveling pack attached to the saddle, before freeing the mare to continue grazing.

Legolas set the pack down by Thranduil and gathered some stones, stacking them in the form of a hollow platform. The prince looked around his surroundings, spying a few fallen branches under the trees. He picked them up and gathered them in a pile, breaking the larger ones over his knee before putting them with the others. Legolas knelt down to his knees and placed the branches inside the stone platform with a small abandoned nest for kindling that had been attached to one of the larger branches. These tasks finished, Legolas grabbed the pot from the pack and rose to his feet, walking the few yards to the stream. The prince filled it a third of the way with water and then returned, retrieving the two special stones from the pack and striking them near the nest. In no time at all a spark flew free of the stones and ignited the birds nest. Legolas lifted it to his mouth and gently blew on the tinder until flames arose where smoke had been.

Setting the filled pot onto the makeshift platform, Legolas paused. He realized he had no way of transferring the water without pouring it. But that would be ridiculous. Legolas began to think of a way and his eyes caught sight of the discarded bandages. An idea came to him and Legolas ripped off a piece of his own tunic, keeping it in hand as he waited for the water to heat up. He glanced over at his father, noting that he was still deeply asleep.

After about five minutes had passed the water began to steam. Legolas lowered a finger to test the temperature, pulling it out a second later. It was not warm enough so Legolas waited a few minutes more and tested it again. Still, the water was not quite warm enough. With a sigh, Legolas leaned back on his hands and resigned himself to wait.

The reality of where he was and what was happening finally hit.

Legolas deeply inhaled once, exhaling slowly. He did this several times, willing the fear and anxiety from him. He could not afford to falter, not when his father depended on him. He needed to keep a clear head and not let panic control him. Slowly, he let it go, allowing surety and resolve to take their place. Yes, he was alone, but he could fight. Even if he were outmatched, he could at least buy a little time for his ada to awaken and deal with the threat himself. Besides, Legolas very much doubted that the king could remain asleep if there was so much noise, or if he screamed.

A bubbling sound snapped the prince out of his musings and he removed the pot from the flames.

Legolas remembered Elrond telling him that boiling hot water was used to treat minor to life threatening infections, being somewhat preferable to cauterizations. At the time, Legolas had not wanted to ask what cauterizations were and he still did not want to know, the very name creating fear. The prince knew one thing, he would not be able to handle using boiling water to clean the wound. The thought of using somewhat hot water was already making him anxious. Since the water was now extremely hot, he needed to cool it somehow. Luckily, there was a stream nearby. Though, Legolas realized belatedly that there was nothing to carry the water in. Normally a canteen would be brought, but that had been in the kitchens being cleaned after the last few uses and the prince had forgotten to retrieve it.

Having no other choice, Legolas walked the few yards to the stream and carried handfuls of cold water back, cooling the boiling water in increments. It took a while but eventually Legolas poured the last of the water from his hands into the pot, drying them on his tunic. The prince tested the temperature, groaning in exasperation when it was yet again not hot enough. He turned to his unconscious father, speaking. "I cooled it too much. Forgive me for my lapse in attention."

Thranduil offered no response and Legolas put the pot back on the fire, sitting back on his legs so he could carefully observe the water this time. Every now and then Legolas tested it and then waited for it to warm further. It took a few more minutes but eventually the water was hot enough and Legolas removed the steaming pot. Now comes the hard part, Legolas thought. The elfling lifted his father's hand, setting it in his lap. Then he retrieved the strip of torn tunic tucked it in to his belt. He lowered it into the water for a few moments and then pulled it out, giving it a small squeeze before bringing it over to the hand in his lap.

Not allowing himself to waste any more time, Legolas pressed the heated cloth to surrounding skin of the wound and began to gently rub around it, trying to disinfect the area as much as possible. He knew that this action would not hurt, and so he was calm as he completed this task. The wound was not very long so it did not take too much time to disinfect the entire area around it.

Legolas gave the cloth a thorough washing, knowing that any impurities he did not remove would hinder the healing process. When the cloth was sufficiently cleaned Legolas squeezed out some of the excess water and brought it near the wound.

Legolas swallowed. He knew it was possible to feel pain even while unconscious if it was strong enough. Never before had the prince caused anyone pain, and so the thought of it happening was his principle source of anxiety at the moment. He just hoped that Thranduil was in a deep sleep for what he was about to do.

Before he could talk himself out of it Legolas gently pressed the cloth to the wound.

Legolas was unaware that he had been holding his breath. When a few seconds passed he realized that his father was not reacting, and let out a shaky breath. He started dabbing at the wound and the dried blood soon turned the cloth a deep red, further adding to the long list of things that Legolas had to push from his mind to deal with later.

Thranduil tensed.

Legolas felt stones settle in his stomach, but forced himself to continue, muttering an apology. He was glad when nothing more came of it.

The prince continued clearing away the dried blood to reveal portions of infected skin that had been hidden under it. Legolas blanched at the sight, never before having seen an infected wound. Before it could be dealt with, Legolas knew that the cloth needed to be rinsed of all the blood first and he needed to keep working at a fast pace before the infection spread and the water had a chance to cool much more. However, the latter had a far more simple solution.

When the cloth was clean once more Legolas took a deep breath, taking a few moments to steel himself for what was to come. Oh, how he wished lord Elrond was there to do all this for him. But he isn't here, his mind supplied. You must get the infection under control yourself or it will grow and fester.

Legolas felt a knot forming in his stomach as he folded the cloth over. "Please don't scream when I do this, ada," Legolas pleaded brokenly. Then, as gently as he could, Legolas lowered the cloth into the wound and began to scrape away the infection.

He nearly dropped the cloth when his father moaned in discomfort. But he didn't stop, knowing brief suffering was better than prolonged pain.

Legolas was taking great care not to hurt him more than he had to, but more pressure had to be applied in order to remove all remnants of infection in some areas, which usually were the most sensitive and pain could not be helped. This realization did not make it any easier though. Legolas knew that Elrond would have already administered an herbal draught by now to dull the pain, but the prince's brief lessons in healing never covered the preparation of any herbs for ingestion, only informing the elfling of which herbs were to be used on different injuries and how to pack them into the more severe wounds to aid in healing.

Thranduil gave a pained whimper and Legolas felt as if he would lose his stomach then and there. He just barely stopped himself, deciding that it would be in both their best interests if he began to shut out the painful sounds and just focus on the work. Legolas felt tears welling in his eyes at the prospect and he blinked them away.

Legolas held onto Thranduil's arm as he attempted to pull his hand away, finding it difficult despite the fact that he was using most of his strength. "Please, ada, I know it hurts but just endure this for a little longer."

Thranduil's brow creased in worry and then, as if hearing his son's pleads, the king stilled.

Legolas was puzzled at this turn of events but didn't stop to ponder the reason for it. When Legolas continued cleaning the wound no sounds of pain came forth. Even more surprising was that his father was not trying to pull his hand away again. These two things made it a lot easier to deal with the remaining infection.

The wound now sufficiently cleaned, Legolas washed the cloth in the water again, purging it of all the pus and fluid. He tried his best not to gag at the sight of yellowish pieces floating in the now murky water, but the prince felt bile rise up his throat and before he knew it he was scrambling toward a few bushes, heaving up what was left of the lembas he had ingested before going riding.

When it was over the prince pressed his hand to the trunk of the tree to steady himself, wiping his eyes of the salty tears that had escaped. Legolas absolutely hated throwing up. The uncontrollable convulsing of his body and the feeling of violently heaving his guts out filled him with dread. The only good thing about it was the pleasant feeling after, and Legolas wholly focused on it as he stood there, breathing in the fresh air slowly to calm his racing heart.

At that moment Legolas felt the tree's energy connect with his own. He heard no words, but felt a tinge of sorrow reach his senses. "Worry not for me, mellon nin. I am not ill," Legolas placated.

Legolas felt the tree's spirit calm. The prince smiled softly when he felt the peace that the tree was sending him in return. Then, apparently satisfied that its Prince was not in danger, Legolas felt the tree withdraw its essence from his soul, leaving an ebbing and pleasant warmth which bathed his spirit. Legolas focused on the feeling a bit longer before turning around and heading back to his father.

Thankfully, everything was as he left it. Including Thranduil, who had not moved even an inch, his hand still lying face up. Legolas was grateful for this because it meant that he didn't have to disinfect the wound again, which would have involved heating more water. Now all that remained to do was pack the wound with herbs and re-wrap it in fresh bandages.

Legolas retrieved a roll of bandages and some herbs from his pack, recognizing it to be Athaleas, or Kingsfoil, in the common tongue. It was a healing herb that could be used for almost anything, making it a mandatory essential to be included in every traveling pack. He crushed the herb in his hands The way Elrond had told him to, carful not to let any of its healing juices seep out of the stem, before pressing it into the wound. He made sure to pack enough of it around the wound and then wrapped it in a length of white linen to keep it in place, careful not to make it too tight. Certain that the wound would heal unhindered now, Legolas returned his father's hand near the side of his body.

Legolas took a few moments to watch his father resting peacefully, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his lips as he silently observed him. He felt a pang of pride that he was able to successfully tend to his father with hardly any mishaps. And his unconscious father, no less. But at the same time he hoped he wouldn't have to do that again anytime soon.

Just then, Legolas was aware of the acrid taste in his mouth.

Rising to his feet, Legolas walked the few yards to the river and rinsed his mouth. When the taste was gone he made his way back to his father, settling down near him. Legolas did not understand how Elrond could remain so calm when tending to his patients, nor how he kept his stomach. The master healer had certainly dealt with far grislier wounds than this and always kept a level of composure, or so he thought. It was a safe bet to make though, considering Elrond was the best healer in middle earth. In order to get that good at something a lot of time and effort was required. Legolas knew better than most of the truth of this statement.

Instinctually, Legolas reached behind him with both hands and grasped the hilt of his knives and then his bow. Reassured that they were there the elfling dropped his hands, setting them back in his knees. The position was not for comfort he realized, but for defensive purposes. If anything tried to attack Legolas could jump to his feet and lot quicker than if he were sitting with his legs folded under each other. Even with this defensive tactic, Legolas still felt an unease at the prospect of keeping watch by himself. Though that unease was lessened now for some reason. He supposed it had to do with tending to his first serious wound. Perhaps overcoming the fear of the experience made him bolder.

Encouraged by this idea, Legolas continued his dutiful watch.

~LOTRLOTRLOTR~

When Thranduil awoke two hours later he realized that he had fallen asleep.

Mentally kicking himself for leaving his son alone, Thranduil was about to open his eyes when he heard a small intake of breath near him. Immediately the king began to dissect the sound, making sure that his body did not betray his current state until he knew who the lungs belonged to. They were near enough to the forest for just about anything to find them, but the creature near him was definitely not an orc. Putting aside the obvious, an orc had harsh, grating breathing that sounded as if their lungs were scraping against their rib bones, not to mention the guttural sounds that would be emitted from their throat due to the damaged vocal cords there. Thranduil tried not to dwell on the horrific reason for this and contemplated on another possible creature. A human would have likely tried to stir the king, unless his or her intentions were ill. In that case either himself or his son would be the target.

Thranduil pushed down the panic that arose from this thought and forced himself to continue breaking down the events logically.

Legolas was the most vulnerable, so he had a higher chance of being taken. Whereas the Elvenking would be seen as a threat, and one capable of defending himself and others due to the sword hanging by his hip. Thranduil mentally frowned as he felt its weight. If his sword was there then he was not dealing with something that meant them harm, for his sword would have surely been taken long before he had awakened. So not any enemy, but a friend. Except no one but himself and Legolas knew of the ride that they had taken, unless someone had managed to conceal themselves in the stable and was listening to their conversation at the time. Thranduil highly doubted that. There was no place to really conceal anything. The stables were by design an open area to protect against spies listening in to private conversations concerning travel routes or other sensitive information. All this begged the question. Who was it that now kept a vigil over him? Could it have been his son all along?

Weighing the pros and cons and deciding that the risk was minimal, Thranduil opened his eyes.

To his immense relief, Legolas was sitting near him, currently gazing toward the direction of the forest, his body tense. It was clear to the Elvenking that his son had been keeping watch while he slept, though was not entirely comfortable with doing so. But there was something else. He couldn't quite place it since his son had shut his emotions off from him, but it was there none the less. Deciding to revisit that avenue of thought later, Thranduil set his mind to the task at hand. It was time to let his son know that he had awakened, but he needed to do so subtly or he could end up frightening the boy. With the right method in mind, Thranduil softly cleared his throat.

Legolas whipped his head in his direction, posture relaxing when he noticed that his ada was awake and looking at him. He spoke. "How did you sleep, father?"

Thranduil heard his son's clipped tone, but decided that it must have been the remnants of uneasiness from the watch that caused his son to use his 'public' voice, though no one was around to hear the two. "I slept well. But how long have I been asleep?"

"2 hours," Legolas replied. "How do you feel?"

2 hours? He had left his son alone that long? "Still fatigued, but it has lessened a great deal."

Legolas didn't seem like he heard his father, and Thranduil mistook the lack of reaction for anger. "I apologize for leaving you alone this long. I did not realize I had fallen asleep. But you kept a vigilant watch despite my lapse in judgment and for that I am grateful. Hannon le, ion-nin."

"It is alright," Legolas replied. Not having mastered his emotions, the prince unknowingly conveyed something unbidden.

Thranduil felt the mix of fear and anger, and spoke, not knowing what was bothering his son. "You seem troubled, ion-nin. Is there something wrong?"

Legolas gave another quick answer. "It is nothing." Then he stood up. At least, that was the plan, but the prince soon discovered that he couldn't feel his legs. Shrugging in annoyance much louder than he meant to, Legolas rolled onto his back and used his arms to manually straighten each leg out.

Thranduil seeing the predicament moved to assist, but Legolas held out his hand. "I can manage on my own," Legolas replied, beginning to massage the life back into his legs.

Thranduil nodded, simply observing.

Finally after 5 tedious minutes, the feeling was back in both appendages and Legolas rose to his feet. "We should make our way back now, it will be dark in a few hours," Legolas said, holding out his hand to his father.

Thranduil looked at it for a brief moment before grabbing it, allowing Legolas to assist him in rising to his feet. Though the king had taken a good two hour nap, the fatigue was still there, making his legs slightly unsteady. Thranduil noticed that Legolas kept hold of his hand, presumably to ensure that he would not fall.

"Thank you, Legolas," the Elvenking said gratefully. "I can manage on my own now."

Legolas nodded and let go. Fast. Far too fast. It was as if Thranduil's hand was made of fire and it hurt the the prince to touch it. The Elvenking knew that Legolas was hiding something from him, but decided not to press him for now.

Both whistled for their horses and they came trotting up to them.

Thranduil mounted, politely declining the assistance of his son. Legolas didn't seem to mind and went to his own horse, pausing a moment with his hand resting on the saddle bag, before mounting. Thranduil saw this but the action had been so brief that he didn't think anything of it. Instead, the ripped tunic caught his eye. That was not there before we left. Could something have happened to him while I was asleep? Was he attacked? This thought was cut short when Thranduil remembered the edges of the tear. They were not jagged, but smooth, as if someone took care not to leave the remaining fabric with uneven edges. Legolas must had done it himself, but the question was why. Thranduil mentally cringed and immediately started looking for signs of bandages under the child's tunic.

Legolas saw the way Thranduil was staring at him, and huffed in annoyance. "Ada, I am not injured. Can we just go?"

Thranduil was relieved to hear that the boy was not injured, but that begged the question: Why rip the tunic? The king had a feeling that the answer would be revealed if a thorough search of the saddle bag was made, considering that was the only place to store any items other than on someone's person. The Elvenking was certain that what ever was in the saddle bag would lead him to the reason why his son was acting so strange, though that realization did not stop the musings. Could I have done something to offend him? Or did my leaving him have a harsher effect on him than I could see? Why did he rip his tunic? Why?

"Ada."

Thranduil realized he never answered his son, and nodded quickly.

Legolas urged his horse into a fast canter and Thranduil followed suit, mind racing with possibilities. Despite the tugging of his heart, Thranduil stayed silent for the remainder of the trip.

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed these gifts. The next chapter will be along shortly as soon as I edit it a bit more. I left this chapter a bit ambiguous so you could have the task at guessing what Legolas was upset about.

What do you think is bothering Legolas? Also, did you find the healing scene realistic? Though in reality Thranduil would not have shown any pain to his son, the king was deeply asleep, and when asleep I feel that the will to shelter his son in that way would be briefly forgotten and natural instinct of the body would take over.

As always, feel free to review and tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Help me get to 100!