Here's chapter 2!
The elvenking raised his head. He did not know how long he had cried. He stood, swiping the tears from his now bloodshot eyes before stretching his limbs. This was foolish. He would not cry anymore. Enough tears would be shed by the princess, he need not add to them. He called for a healer who stood off to the side.
"Send someone to find Húrdir and have him come to me here. And have a maid come as well. I need a drink." The healer nodded and hurried away.
Thranduil risked a look at his son- healers still moved around him, but the frenzied activity had ceased. They were finally beginning to wash Legolas's long hair, and were beginning to replace the tattered, soiled clothes with soft, clean garments. This was a good sign. He beckoned to a healer.
"What can you tell me?" He asked.
"My King, there is some hope. Though we are still worried by the wounds on his stomach, chest, and leg, and the cut on his face will scar, some wounds are not infected, as we feared. His fever remains, but he has cooled somewhat." The healer bowed, returning to his work.
Thranduil felt a sliver of the tension in his shoulders leave him. There was a little hope for his son.
Húrdir entered the room, bowing to the king before standing beside him.
"You summoned me." He stated, eyes taking in the activity in the room.
"I did. I cannot sleep until my son wakes. Bring me my work from my desk, as well as inform the princess of the situation." Húrdir looked taken aback at this.
"You have not told her yet?"
"I felt it best to let her sleep in peace for a few hours, let the healers do their work before she knew. She should not be permitted to enter until they are finished cleaning him up, however. She will be upset enough as it is." The king nodded, signaling he was finished. Húrdir nodded in response, bowed again, and left.
Pulling his chair closer to the prince's bed, Thranduil made himself comfortable, sensing he may be waiting for some time before Legolas woke up. A maid approached him, curtsying before she stood at attention.
"What service can I provide to the king?" She asked, her voice clear and soft.
"I need a drink. Bring a bottle of our strongest wine. And tea. Preferably floral with honey." She nodded. He added, as a final thought. "And bring some crackers. That will be all." With a wave of his hand she hurried away. The elvenking's eyes returned to his son.
The maid returned shortly, bearing the king's food and drink. He motioned for her to place it on the table next to him, then held out his hand for a glass of wine. She quickly poured a glass and placed it in his outstretched hand.
Húrdir returned, hands full of documents.
"Your work, as you requested, My Lord." He bowed before continuing, "The princess is distraught. She will not stay away for long."
"It is alright if she comes now. He is looking better," the king replied. Húrdir nodded in agreement.
"He has not awoken then?"
"No. He is breathing easier, though. And so am I. Has the council been told?" Thranduil took a sip of his wine, eyebrow raised at his adviser.
"No, My Lord. The sun has not yet risen, though it will soon. Much of the palace still sleeps, for it is still early in the morn." Húrdir looked pointedly at the glass in the king's hand.
Thranduil choked on his wine, spluttering as he realized the hour of the day and the strength of the drink. He looked at the cup, then shrugged and nodded at the adviser before downing the rest of his glass. He was king, and his son was critically injured. He looked up at Húrdir.
"Have you slept?"
"I have not."
"Go. I have all I need. Rest, and assemble the council at nine. That should give you a few hours at least," the king reasoned.
Húrdir nodded, bowing once more before leaving. Thranduil held out his glass to the maid, which she quickly refilled. 'What a mess," he thought. 'I'll have another drink." He continued to sip the wine and let his thoughts wander.
A sound pulled him from his thoughts, bringing his head up. A groan of pain, from the prince. Thranduil strode to the bed, kneeling beside his son's head. Eyes fluttered open as Legolas moaned again, his head rolled to the side.
Blue eyes met grey, but there was no recognition in them. Panic and pain flooded the younger elf's face, as healers rushed to tend to him.
"Shhh. Be calm, my son," the king soothed, stroking Legolas's blonde hair. The prince's face did not relax, but his eyes gently closed before he slipped again into deep sleep.
What do you guys think? It took me longer to write this than I expected, but I think I like where it's going. We'll get to meet a new character or two soon! Thanks for the reviews loves!