A/N In honer of Memorial Day, here is an update! I am so grateful for the rights that I have and the people who have died for them. I am grateful to any man or women who has ever stood up in defense of what is right. Thank you from the deepest part of my heart.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Crisis in Mirkwood

Thranduil marched his son down the hall, keeping a firm grip on his arm and walking faster then was called for. Legolas stumbled lightly and tried to pull up to a stop, but the king only jerked his arm and half pushed him down the hallway. They reached Thranduil's private rooms and Thranduil yanked the door open. His ire was raising with every breath he took and he thrust the crown prince into the room roughly.

"I can't believe, you, Legolas!" he snapped, slamming the door behind him harder then was needful. Legolas, who had landed on the floor as he lost his balance, stared up at his father with glassy eyes. Thranduil eye's began to spark with a deadly fire that leapt into an inferno of doom as Legolas began to giggle. "I ask you to take charge of the feast of Hwand while I clear up other business and what do I find when I came back, hmm?" He began to pace back and forth with short, determined, steps in the small walk way before the door. His silver robs swished back and forth behind him, and Legolas' unfocused eyes followed them.

"Everybody drunk and their prince most of all!" Thranduil exploded as his son made no reply. "What did you do? Give every single elf all the wine they could have asked for in a thousand years? Leoglas, you aren't even officially an adult yet. If this was some stunt that you pulled to get me to think that you are as 'grown up' as you wish me to believe, then it back fired. I have never been so embarrassed as to walk into that room and see the mess that you made. Explain yourself!"

"Which Ada…do I talk to?" Legolas slurred, blinking his eyes rapidly and squinted up at his father. Thranduil clenched his fist, closing his eyes as he counted slowly back from ten.

"When you are ready, we will this conversation," he said coldly. Reaching down, he grabbed his son's arm again and heaved the drunk young elf to his feet. Marching him into one of the adjoining rooms, the king clenched his jaw as Legolas laughed lightly. "You get in bed and you stay there until you have come to your senses," he ordered, pushing his son none to gently towards the bed. He would keep an eye on the boy tonight, besides, he didn't think Legolas could make it all the way to his own rooms tonight. He had hardly been sober enough to recognize Thranduil when he had stormed into the feast, never made find his own way here.

Legolas sprawled across the top of the dark green coverlet and in moments was sound asleep.

Thranduil stared at his son, anger still bubbling in him. Tonight had been a catastrophe, all his commanding elves, dead drunk. He had never, never, seen anything like it. For crying out loud how much wine had his son allowed to be passed around. Starting to pace once more, he sourly reflected that his advisers and leaders were going to be the hot topic for tomorrow's gossip.

Glancing over at his still son, Thranduil felt his heart soften slightly. Tomorrow, and until any other big news came up, Legolas was going to be discussed, teased, and ridiculed for letting everyone get drunk. He was the topmost leader figure present, and therefore, would be one to be blamed. That was going to be more punishment than Thranduil could ever have dished out, and Legolas would certainly learn his lesson.

Feeling his anger starting to lose its edge, Thranduil gave a sigh as he rubbed at his temples. Turning away from Legolas, he left the door to his bedroom ajar and settled into the chair behind his desk. He wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight, not after everything that had happened. Pulling the first page off the pile on his desk, the king began to read.

A good three hours later, Thranduil had made a decent dent in the pile, much to his satisfaction. He was just reaching for a small goblet of wine that rested at the head of the desk when a sound form the bedroom caught his attention. Standing, the king leaned over the desk to peer into the room beyond. The lump on the bed that was Legolas stirred, before going still, and Thranduil frowned as he sank back down to the chair. He certainly wasn't going to envy Legolas when he awoke. But he had brought this upon his own head.

He was about to bend back over the paper when a single word was cried plaintively from the bedroom.

"Ada?!"

Glancing back at the room, Thranduil rose gracefully to his feet.

"Yes, Legolas?" he asked, leaning up against the doorway and folding his arms. A flutter of anger was beginning to rise in his heart once more, but he pushed it down as he watched Legolas raise his head to look up. The boy's face was pale, and his eyes bloodshot.

"I don't feel so good…" Legolas moaned, dropping his head back down with an audible groan.

"I'm sure you don't," Thranduil agreed, his tone hardening. Legolas let out a strange sound and rolled over. Curling up in a ball smaller than the king though possible, he wrapped his arms around his middle. While his father remained watching from the doorway, Legolas again flipped over, trying to get comfortable. His chest heaved as he panted, his eyes closing tightly as he shifted once more.

"If you are going to be…ill," the word was unfamiliar on Thranduil's tongue and he paused for a moment , "then please do not do so on my bed."

Legolas throw an arm over his eyes in response and let out a low whimper as he moved his head to a cooler spot on the pillow.

Thranduil shook his head in despair, and moved back to his desk. It is his own fault, he reminded himself sternly as he took a seat.

He did not get much paperwork done over the next hour. Legolas' groans kept coming back to him, disturbing his peace of mind. His eyes would continuously drift to the open doorway, before snapping back to his work. There wasn't much he could do for Legolas, his son would just have to suffer the consequences of drinking, and then learn from it.

A sharp rap on the door surprised Thranduil, and he looked up, startled. Who on earth was calling this early in the morning? The knock sounded again with urgency and Thranduil hurriedly got to his feet. Crossing through his rooms to the doorway he frowned as the knock came again. Jerking the door open, Thranduil was surprised to find Gelir, his top healer, standing outside.

"What has happened?" Thranduil asked sharply. It wasn't that often that the healer came to him, never mind pounded down his door. Horrific images began to flash through his mind, each worse than the last, and he took a breath, preparing himself for the worse.

"Can I see Legolas?" she asked without preamble. Thranduil frowned, this having been the farthest thing from his mind.

"What for?" he asked with suspicion, shifting his body ever so slightly so that he blocked his rooms from her sight.

"Because I've just been tending Arminas, who was at the feast tonight," she explained patiently, though Thranduil noticed the tapping of her fingers against her arm. The king sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Of course it was related to the feast. "Did it not seem strange to you that that many elves could get drunk that quickly? Most of them were old enough to know their limits and have very rarely been drunk. They know when to stop."

Thranduil paused, thinking with a frown slowly drifting down his face. "What does that have to do with Legolas?"

"I want to confirm something."

"Very well," Thranduil consented, stepping aside to let her through. She gave him a momentarily confused look at first, but a second later realization dawned and she stepped through the door. "I brought him here so I could keep an eye on him," the king explained, catching her look. "What exactly do you want to confirm?"

I think that someone tampered with the wine. I've never known elves to get drunk so fast. Also, Arminas was a different sort of unwell, nothing, again, like I've seen from simple hangovers." Thranduil stopped mid-step, his face tightening and fire springing into his eyes.

"Someone tampered with the wine?" he asked oddly, his face rapidly darkening as an ugly expression crossed his fair features. To her credit, the healer didn't back down as Thranduil repeated the question, the volume of his voice rising with each word.

"Yes, I believe so," she replied, meeting his blazing eyes calmly.

"Poison?" he asked furiously, his lips curling in disgust.

"Perhaps," Gelir said, "but it might have been meant more for a practical joke, or someone trying to discredit you and your family. Whatever the reason, I really don't care. All I care about is finding out if there is anything that can be done for the elves, because a lot of elves are going to be out of commission otherwise."

Thranduil didn't look any happier, but before he could speak, a cry came from the bedroom.

"Ada!" Legolas voice was distressed and pain filled. Gelir and Thranduil glanced at each other, and then made a dash for the room.

Legolas was lying on his chest on the crumpled bedclothes, writhing lightly as he tried to ease the pain in his body. His back was shimmering with sweat and his fist clenched in the pillows hard enough to turn them white. His tunic, which he had apparently pulled off when he had grown to hot, lay in a rumbled heap on the floor.

"Ada!" he called again, licking his dry lips as he panted heavily.

"Turn him over," the healer ordered without hesitation. Thranduil did as requested, taking his son by the shoulders and rolling him over onto his back.

"Ada…" Legolas again groaned. He latched onto his father's arm instead of the pillow and dug his fingers into flesh.

"Hold him still," the healer ordered calmly, rolling up her sleeves. Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around Legolas' heaving chest.

"Be calm, Legolas," he directed softly, a fire still burning in his eyes as he watched the healer beginning to run her hands along Legolas' belly, pressing gently here and there.

"Ada?" Legolas murmured, his head falling against the king's shoulder. "I don't feel so well."

"I know," Thranduil whispered, a touch of guilt entering his voice. "But you are going to be alright." Legolas suddenly cried out and jerked upwards, his fingers tearing into Thranduil's arms as Gelir found a practically tender spot.

"His bowels are swollen." She looked up at Thranduil with concern as she reached up and took Legolas' pulse. Thranduil watched her carefully, rubbing Legolas' arm lightly in what he hoped was a comforting manner. He didn't doubt that if Legolas' hadn't been still drunk, then he wouldn't have been able to get away with this so easily. It had been a long time since Legolas had wanted to be cuddled.

Gelir continued her examination, and after a few minutes stood back, her hands on her hips. "This is the same symptoms that Arminas showed. Watch him, and call me if anything new comes up. I'm going to go see what I can do."

Thranduil nodded, but she didn't see it as she hurried away. He let go of Legolas and sat up straighter, easing his son off his lap as he did so.

"Ada?" Legolas asked pitifully, reaching out to snag his father's robe.

"Yes?" Thranduil asked darkly, his anger at whoever had done his growing at the weak sound of the prince's voice.

"Ada, are you mad at me?" Legolas' red shot, bleary, eyes watched his father earnestly. His mind was foggy from wine, but he could tell by his father's posture and voice that he was livid.

"Not anymore." Thranduil turned back to face his son, cupping his check gently in an added reassurance. Legolas' face visibly relaxed and he sank against the pillow, clenching and unclenching his fist. His head was pulsing enough to make him tremble, and his stomach had decided to join the fun and was cramping with a furiously that surprised the elf, who was not use to sickness.

The pain was making it hard to think, and in his befuddled state Legolas let slip on of his greatest fears. "Is it because I am not strong enough?"

"No, no. Not at all, Legolas," Thranduil instantly insisted with surprise, but Legolas only shook his head in disbelieve. His facial muscles tightened as another cramp rolled across his body and he wrapped his arms firmly around his middle, if that could help at all. Clamping his teeth together, he let out a low whimper.

"Shh, shh…" Thranduil moved further onto the bed. Taking his son by his shoulders, he allowed his head to rest in his lap and began to lightly run his hand through the blond tresses.

"I'm sorry," Legolas managed to choke out as the cramp lessened for the moment and he found himself had curled around his father, with the kings arms supporting him. 'I'm sorry," he repeated even as he gave into his body's desire and allowed himself to rest against his father's cool robes. His mind was screaming at him to get up and be strong, but he just couldn't manage it. "I'm sorry." He dug his fingers into his own arms as another cramp began and clamped down for all that he was worth.

"Legolas, stop saying that," Thranduil scolded firmly, his voice coming out harsher than he meant it too. Legolas flinched, and the king immediately regretted the tone. "Do not apologize again," the older elf explain in a forced calm. When he laid his hands on the elf that had done this…

An uncomfortable silence descended over the two, and Thranduil glanced down, unsure of what he could say to his only child. Legolas' only concern, however, was not letting a sound leave his lips at the pain he was experience. He closed his eyes, allowing his breath to snake in and out in fast gulps. He jumped as Thranduil leaned over him, touching his brow lightly. Opening his eyes once more, he met his father's piercing stare.

"Do you remember who served the wine?" Thranduil asked intently, his hand adding gentle pressure. Legolas shook his head mutely, his face blanching as yet another wave of pain crashed over his senses.

"Everything…everything's dim before—before the feast," Legolas tried to explain, his voice catching as another cramp took propriety of his attention.

"Nothing?" Thranduil pressed. This could have been an assassination attempt, and while they were not unheard of, no one had ever targeted such a large group, or, maybe closer to his heart, his son. Was this to become a common event? He certainty would not stand for that. This would stop here and now.

"No," Legolas grounded out, his fingernails almost tearing gauges into his skin. "No," he repeated, coughing and giving a cry.

"Alright, that is alright." Thranduil reached out, wrestling his sons hand away and clutching them tightly. Long, ugly, crescent shaped wounds decorated the prince's arms and Thranduil frowned. "Everything is going to be alright. Gelir is working on something to make you feel better." He allowed Legolas to dig his finger nails into his own hands, easily hiding the wince that wanted to appear on his handsome features.

"Ada?" Legolas abruptly whimpered. He buried his face further into his father's lap as his body began to buckle under the stain it was being put.

"It is alright," Thranduil insisted once more, rubbing his thumb along the prince's taught fingers. He released the shaking hands long enough to scoot Legolas' tense body over a few feet so that he was able to slide further onto the bed. Taking the hands once more so that Legolas' couldn't perform additional damage to himself, Thranduil allowed Legolas to lay his hand back on his lap. The young prince licked his dry lips but quickly ended up biting them hard as his body convulsed.

"How, how is your archery going?" Thranduil asked hesitantly, tightening his grip on his son's hands as he bent low, lightly touching their brows together. Sweat crested Legolas' skin and king could feel him trembling violently. "You instructor said you do exceedingly well, better than most children your age. Even in his pain, Legolas smiled. His pride and love of the weapon was clear. Thranduil smiled back, gently bestowing a kiss in his hair. "In fact," Thranduil began in a soft tone, "He said that you are better than I as…by far."

"Impossible," Legolas snorted, his breath catching again. His fingers were no digging painfully into his father's flesh, and the king briefly wondered if he would carry the marks for several days or weeks.

"Very possible," Thranduil countered, his smile growing. "Archery was never exactly my strong point. In fact, one time when I was a littler younger than you are now, I got into major trouble because I attempted archery where I shouldn't have. Your grandfather was so, so, angry. "He chuckled, remembering his now deceased father's face with both a pang of love of grief. Thranduil began to tell his story, gripping his son's hands firmly when he sensed his son's need form something to distract him.

Legolas listened intently, or as intently as he could with waves of pain washing over him, but soon a firm knock resounded into the bedroom. Thranduil looked up, sitting up straighter, but before he could answer, he heard the door open.

"From what I have seen, "the healer's voices rang out loud and clear, announcing her presence. Thranduil relaxed his hold on his son, whom he had atomically grabbed, and watched as the Gelir pushed her way into the room. "There isn't much I can do."

"What do you mean 'There isn't much you can do?'," Thranduil asked in a terrible tone. "My son is in pain. Surely there is something you can do for him!" He began to disentangle himself from his son, but Legolas wouldn't, or couldn't, release his grip and Thranduil eased himself back.

"I didn't say I couldn't do anything for him, though most medication and herbs are out of the question as I don't dare give him anything because I do not know what was in that wine. He could react badly if I gave him the wrong thing, changing matters from bad to worse in a heartbeat." She leaned crossed to the other side of the bed and slid her fingers under the prince's neck, taking his pulse.

"But he is in pain!" Thranduil protested, his fingers slowly tightening as his anger which was so close to the surface this evening again showed its ugly face.

"He is strong, he can endure the pain," Gelir murmured distractedly, again moving to run her hands across the prince's belly. Thranduil began to open his mouth, but Legolas broken voice cut in.

"Ada, I—I…" Legolas paused, sucking in a gasp of air as the healer pressed down. He let out the breath in a strangled cry as he began to thrash, his body bucking in an attempt to stave off the pain. When Legolas' fit had ended itself, he was exhausted and lay limply against his father. The healer, who had bustled way at the beginning of it, hurried back around with a large, white, clay bowel that had steam rising in gentles waves.

"I have other elves to tend to," she explain in a hurried tone as she tucked a stray of her wayward hair behind a pointed ear. "Change these cloths when they grow cool." Wringing out a large square of pale, white, cloth in the water, she gently laid across Legolas' midriff. The prince cringed at the hot touch, but slowly relaxed, once again half curling around his middle. "Other than that, I am afraid, that he is just going to have to wait it out. I'll come check on him periodically, but I am just beginning to realize the number of elves that are going to begin to trickle through my doors. If Legolas gets dramatically worse, then bring him to me."

Straightening, she lightly touched Legolas' hair, before smiling grimly at Thranduil. She was gone as quickly as she had come.

Thranduil was silent for a moment, his heart pounding as he looked down at his son's bright eyes. The wide, desperate, eyes were watering with pain and Thranduil felt his heart clench. Shifting closer, the king began to stroke the long, golden hair that so resembled his own. He would do almost anything to erase the pain from those eyes, yet he could do nothing. Legolas let out a shaky breath, and coughed, his body quivering.

"Ada?" he whispered plaintively. His fingers were spamming open and shut in the excess fabric of Thranduil's robes.

"Yes?" Thranduil asked.

"Would you…would you," the hesitancy in Legolas' voice jolted Thranduil and he turned his son's face upwards with gentle fingers. The young prince's eyes were now not only swimming with water, but with doubt. Thranduil sighed, wondering not for the first time if he had somehow failed in his duty as a father. "Would you tell me about mother?"

The simply words burned a hole into his heart and Thranduil momentarily froze. The mere thought of his beloved wife sent a bolt of pain straight into his soul.

"I miss her," Legolas whispered, his voice catching on the last word. Thranduil's heart was once again besieged with pain, but all the same, he smiled down at his hurting son.

"So do I," he admitted softly, thinking that perhaps "miss" was a bit of an understatement. Shifting closer to his son, his own flesh and blood, he rested his hand atop Legolas' head.

"I –I remember one time, when you were very small, only a few years old, when your mother…" he began after a long pause. His deep, soothing, voice filled the room as he continued his story and Legolas' slowly relaxed against him. He shifted Legolas until he was more comfortable, all the while keeping his story going.

When he healer stepped back in to check on Legolas' a few hours later, she found Legolas sound asleep on the bed, nestled protectively in his father's encompassing arms. His fair face was peaceful, if not calm. Thranduil raised his head at her first steps and nodded once as he stroked his son's hair in slow, measured, storkes. The father had things under control, much more so than any herb she could have used at the moment.

Nodding once, the healer backed out of the room.

THE END

Well, Legolas managed to get himself into trouble once more without even trying... I swear that elf attracts trouble like no one else. :)

Next time! A young Legolas (A cute little toddler I sure he was)hanging with the twins. :)

P.S. ...you know that moment were you feel like everything is perfect and you are ready to post. And then you push save only to realize that FF has automatically logged you out and that you have to START OVER. (ok, I was only putting the finishing touchs one it, but it was still a bad moment) *sigh* Just thought I would let you know the pain I went through to get this to you.