Chapter 46

Elladan watched in horror as Breliond collapsed to the floor with blood gushing from a gaping wound across his throat. With a final thrust of his sword he defeated the huge orc he had been battling before moving over to the fallen captain already knowing he was too late. The rage he now usually managed to master within him grew wilder than it had in an age and he turned to face the dark form who stood over his fallen comrade. Red filled his vision and as he raised his mighty sword he let his anger loose and swung it down to cleave the enemy in two. For a moment the world shimmered before him and an ear splitting scream rent the air then his blade fell through suddenly empty air, its momentum carrying it down to pierce the ground and pull him off his feet dashing his fury like fine china into a million glinting shards.

Then the orcs began to run. Off into the forest. Smashing through the undergrowth regardless of what got in their way and a cheer went up from the remainder of the elven army. It would appear they had won. Too worn down and weary to follow and with not a single arrow left with which to bring them down the elves let them go and began to gather around the locus of the fight where Breliond lay with Elrond's eldest son kneeling beside him.

"'Dan!" Elrohir pushed his way between the battle worn elves to crouch before his brother. "How are..."

"I am fine, toren." Elladan interrupted his brother's anxious question. "I am fine." With a shaky smile the elder twin rose to his feet and looked down sadly to where Breliond lay.

"I fear this brave Captain was not so fortunate however."

"Whatever was that noise?" Elrohir asked shaking his head. "My ears are still hurting from its sound."

"I am not sure 'El." Elladan replied with a quieting look which said 'we will talk later' as their human brother arrived looking much disheveled and battle stained.

"'Dan, 'El." The three greeted each other with a warm hug, happy in the knowledge that they had survived. "If you are both well there are injured who need your help."

~o~

Legolas' skin looked almost translucent in the faint glow of light from the candles placed around his chamber, like pale, white alabaster and felt as cold to the touch as Thranduil reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. After the initial horrified call and subsequent panicked attempt to rise from his bed his son had now calmed but he knew it was only a temporary respite. He could divine some of what troubled the young prince but knew that there was far more lying beneath the surface which needed to come out and although not looking forward to the conversations that needed to come would not shirk them for the sake of the one he loved most in this world. His son.

A low moan preempted the fluttering of eyelids, unnaturally closed in sleep and Thranduil sat back in his chair, not wanting to appear too close, too needy. He knew his son hated to see him worry overmuch, thinking it meant lack of trust or belief in his abilities and for this he knew he was at fault. Having overly relied on dealing with his son as the Elvenking rather than a father as he had got older, the strict, sometimes even harsh model of his own upbringing ensuring he kept love hidden away lest his insecurities become clear, had created a widening gap between them that neither had known how to bridge.

Blue eyes opened warily and stared up at the ceiling for a few heartbeats before Legolas slowly turned his head towards his father his face a picture of abject sorrow and regret.

"I…" He croaked out. "I…"

"Hush ion." Thranduil leaned forward despite himself, smiling softly before reaching for a small glass of clear liquid that stood on the cabinet beside the bed. "Drink this, it will ease your throat."

Legolas eyed the proffered vessel warily with a shake of his head.

"Nay." His voice cracked on the word and he swallowed with a wince. "I need no…"

"'tis naught but water ion nin." Thranduil soothed. "Drink."

He moved to seat himself upon the bed and eased one arm behind his sons head in support, ignoring the slight flinch from the prince on contact, whilst tilting the glass against his lips.

With an almost inaudible sigh Legolas bowed to the inevitable and allowed the cool liquid entrance to his mouth surprised to find that it was indeed as his father had stated, purely water. Savouring the soothing effect upon his roughened throat he closed his eyes and drank deeply, attempting to ignore the conflicting feelings being stirred within him by the elf's close proximity.

"Enough?"

Legolas nodded and Thranduil withdrew the empty glass and his arm, allowing his sons head to fall back onto the pillow then reached out tenderly to tuck another stray strand of lifeless hair behind the youngster's ear frowning slightly as Legolas flinched again at the contact, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as if to block out the world.

"Oh, Legolas…" Speaking softly the king placed the glass back on the cabinet before gently stroking his fingers over the back of his sons hand unprepared for the violent reaction it elicited as the young elf cried out, his eyes shooting open whilst he feverishly tried to move away from the contact.

"Hush child," he continued in an effort to calm his increasingly agitated son. "No one will hurt you, 'tis only you and I here." The need to comfort had Thranduil reaching out once more.

"Do not…touch me." The young elf's voice quavered with emotion as he recoiled again. "Saes… saes, do not touch…"

Thranduil froze, staring into his sons huge eyes, trying to read the conflicting messages therein. Pain, embarrassment and self-loathing showed plainly and made his heart weep for the youngster but they also vied with something else, something it took a few moments for him to recognize as desire and unable to stop himself he recoiled in shock.

~o~

Elladan tied the final knot in the bandage he had been carefully wrapping around a silvan guards upper arm then sat back upon his heels with a sigh. That was the last of the injuries, a minor cut only but still needing cleansing as orcs blades were not the cleanest and often were coated with poison. In this instance however, the elf on the receiving end of the blade had been lucky. With a reassuring smile he rose to his feet and glanced around the makeshift camp.

After the orcs had fled and the decision reached not to follow the three brothers had quickly fallen in to assist the woodland elves take stock of the situation. Whilst Aragorn had agreed to help with the disposal of the enemies bodies that littered the battle site the twins had turned their hands towards the assessment and treatment of those injured.

Now, wiping his hands on the damp, bloodstained cloth that hung from his belt Elladan allowed himself to relax before moving over to where Elrohir stood deep in conversation with a captain whose face he recognized but could put no name to. As he neared the pair smiled and grasped each other's forearms in salute before the wood elf walked past him with a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"They are planning to return to the Halls as soon as the last of the litters is ready." The younger twin gestured to where a small group were lashing branches together with vines.

"It never ceases to amaze me how quickly they can scavenge the necessary sized branches and vines." He continued with a rueful smile. "I always struggle to find even the smallest of twig with which to build a fire in this forest."

"That is because you are not a wood elf, muindor." Elladan chuckled with a playful punch to his brother's shoulder. "And you do not ask the trees nicely." He ducked out of the way as Elrohir tried to return the punch with a snort.

"Aie, 'El." He then sighed, suddenly saddened as his eyes caught sight of the line of half a dozen unmoving elven bodies placed neatly side by side, waiting for transport home.

"More families will be grieving soon."

"'Tis not as many as it could have been, 'Dan." Elrohir replied as he too allowed his gaze to fall upon the dead.

"Even one is too many 'El." Elladan said softly, shaking his head. "Far too many."

The brothers descended into silence, each standing lost within their own thoughts and memories as if cast in stone. Their faces set grim and sorrowful their long black cloaks gathered about their forms as if to wrap them against the outside world.

A single voice began to sing, clear and sweet it rose in a melodic lament before being joined gradually by more and more, the different voices mingling, harmonizing, rising and falling together until the forest seemed alive with song and the twins found their own throats opening, their own fëa letting go to mingle with those of the elves around them, pouring out their own past griefs into the melody in a way they had long been unable to and a peace settled upon them as they had not felt for an age.

~o~

Legolas felt his insides twist as he recognised the look of revulsion that passed over Thranduil's face and

waited for the tirade to begin. How could he blame his father for that reaction when he was filled with

disgust for his own depravity? That he could react with such need for the touch of another was mortifying enough but for it to manifest itself over the presence of his own father made him feel sick to his very core. He huddled into himself, lowering his gaze and trying to gain control of the emotions that would be his undoing if they had not already done so judging by the expression he had seen.

The tirade never came, just the dip in the mattress that told of someone seating themselves on the bed and silence.

Need grew and at last Legolas raised his eyes warily, wondering if this was some new test, if his father was making him suffer in order to draw out the punishment he was due. The thought suddenly made his mouth dry and his heart began to beat faster in anticipation as past and present blurred bringing the sound of the whip and his own moans and pleas to mind.

"Legolas."

The voice surprised him with its softness.

"Legolas."

He shook his head as if to banish the sound from his ears.

"Look at me."

Thranduil's gentle tone almost unmanned him and he gritted his teeth against the conflicting emotions roiling within his chest.

"Ion…. Look at me." This time an edge of command had crept in and the prince's eyes rose in reflex answer.

"Aie, Legolas." Thranduil's own eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Forgive me."

A puzzled frown creased the young elf's forehead as his overwrought mind tried to make sense of his father's words.

"A...ada?" He stammered out. "I…nay…'tis I…" Words would not come and he felt a blush of embarrassment begin to heat his cheeks.

"Shhh." Thranduil broke in, keeping his voice soft and gentle as he would to a wild colt. "You bear no fault in this ion nin."

Legolas stared in surprise at his father's gentle words, his confusion and trepidation growing with each utterance, wondering how long it would be before the well concealed anger broke out and his punishment could finally begin. A shiver ran down his spine and he hated himself for not knowing if it was due to fear or longing.

Emboldened by the fact that Legolas appeared to have calmed somewhat Thranduil eased himself closer yet although he longed to reach out and comfort his trembling child remained just out of reach for fear of spooking him again.

"'Tis I who owe the apology Legolas, in fact I owe so many I hardly know where to begin." He smiled gently, keeping hold of the younger elf's wary eyes with his own.

"I am sorry, so very sorry for putting you in this situation." He rushed on as Legolas opened his mouth, effectively cutting off any words his son may utter in protest.

"I allowed myself to be guided by others instead of my heart, to think I had to hide the father behind the king." He paused, swallowing back the emotion that threatened to choke him. "In doing so I almost lost that which is most precious to me in all of Arda. Forgive me ion nin, let me start again, let me be the father you need, the father I should always have been, the father I want to be."

For a few moments all was still as each waited for the others reaction, both hoping for redemption yet neither daring hope that it would be bestowed, until a small sob escaped from the prince. Then could Thranduil hold himself back no longer and with a deep sighing breath of pent up emotion he bridged the gap between them to gather his son into his arms in an emotive embrace.

A/N

I will apologise in advance for any grammatical or spelling mistakes here but I have not edited this as much as usual because I didn't want you to wait any longer for the update. Of course, it may be that no one is left reading this so it won't matter in any case. If you are and you do find any glaring errors let me know and I will try to put them right. :)

Thanks go to sehellys, TryniS, bella 13446, and Lotrfn or their wonderful words of encouragement after the last chapter. Much appreciated guys. :)