A/n *peeks nervously out from behind a corner* Hi. Wow, yea. You guys must be shocked to see me, but things happened (though that is no good excuse). However! *cross your fingers* this will not happen again, and you can expect a more regular update this story from now on!

Oh! And for those of you who don't know, Oropher is Thranduil's father, therefore, Legolas' grandfather. Also italics is Legolas dream state.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Past and Present

The candles were flickering low, their light hardly enough illuminate the bed and the figure hunched next to it.

"Please…" the whispered plea would have been hard for the mortal ear to discern and most certainly the elf on the bed did not hear. He twisted his head against the sweat soaked pillow and let loose a ramble of intelligible words, moaning loudly. His father didn't stir from his position. His hands were clasped in front of him in hopelessness, and it was only when the rambled words became increasingly urgent and loud that he jerked himself from his self-induced trance.

"Shh…" Thranduil straightened, lightly smoothing back the stringy blond hair. "Shh…be strong, my son. I'm so proud of you, but you have to keep going, you can't give up now. You are…so, so, young. Surely the Valar wouldn't…" He trailed off, washing a hand over his face, he stifled a low sob and brushed the boy's hot hand against his lips.

Legolas jerked, throwing his head to the side as his breathing hitched. Thranduil crushed his hand in his grip and he bowed his head once more, offering yet another pray to the Valar. The crown prince of Mirkwood's face was wan and sunken, his skin ashen. The blankets were pulled down to his waist, revealing blood spotted bandages wrapped around his torso and the edge of the blanket was thrown back as well, allowing his left leg to be elevated on several pillows, stiff white bandages also encasing it. The prince let out another low whimper, his eye moving swiftly under their lids.

Legolas turned in a slow circle, rather amazed to find himself in his father's spacious courtyard. The last thing he remembered was a spider's obtuse body hanging over him, ready to kill, but somehow he had ended up here. Gazing dazedly around, he smiled.

He had forgotten.

Smiling even wider, he strode over to one of the splashing fountains and ran his fingers through the cool water. He hadn't seen this particular area of the gardens in years, ever since his father had banned the area after returning home from the Battle of the Last Alliance without Legolas grandfather, Oropher. These had been Oropher's garden, one of his favorite spot.

He didn't remember much about his grandfather but a fair amount of what he did remember happened in this garden. He smiled fondly, remembering how his grandfather had chased him around that fountain before Legolas had turned and 'chased' him right back.

Legolas had been young when his father and grandfather had left. He only ever saw his father alive again.

"Thranduil?..," Legolas whipped around at the voice, his hands jumping for a dagger that was not there. For the first time, he realized he was not dressed in his warriors grab, rather in a casual tunic and leggings, and rather more disturbing, he didn't have his bow or arrows, or even his simply boot knife. A regal figure was almost running towards him and he stared at him in shock.

"Grand…grandfather?" Legolas' mouth dropped open. Shaking his head in bewilderment, he oepned his eyes to find that Oropher was still there. Oropher smiled, slowing his steps.

"It is you, Legolas! you must forgive me, you look rather a lot like your father." Oropher laughed softly, running his eyes across his grandson. "You have grown," he muttered in almost as much shock as Legolas felt. He grabbed Legolas by the shoulders, holding him out at arm's length and grinning like a fool.

Legolas could only stare.

"But…but you are…well, dead."

"What are you, then, Legolas?" He remained smiling, but Legolas' mouth fell open.

"I'm not dead, if that is what you are asking," Legolas stated defensively, standing up a little straighter. "I'm...I must be dreaming, or something, but I am most defiantly not dead." Oropher laughed lightly, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders and leading him around the fountain and towards a wide pathway lined with towering trees.

"No," he confirmed, "You are not dead—yet." He raised an arm to push a branch aside as they passed and cast a sideways look at the crown prince. If Legolas was scared, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

"Why are you here, then? This isn't the first time I've been close to death," Legolas pressed quizzically, cocking his head to the side.

Oropher bowed his head, a burden and sadness that Legolas had never seen on him before masking his face. "I know. Things in Greenwood the Great haven't been exactly perfect." To his stark surprise, Legolas snorted.

"They don't call it Greenwood the Great, anymore. Now it is just Mirkwood. Horrible, ugly sounding, Mirkwood." Legolas glared darkly in the direction of the trees, mentally cursing all those who could not see their beauty as he did.

"Sometimes life labels things as they are not, but that doesn't mean you have too."

Legolas scoffed, shrugging as he remained pointedly staring at the tree line. Oropher shrugged, moving past the subject. They had more important things to discuss. Taking Legolas by the arm, they begin to walk again.

"Legolas, you have a choice to make."

Thranduil stood shakily, keeping his hand pressed against the bedside table for support.

"How is he?" he asked dully. He locked eyes with his head healer, but the look the other elf was giving him was not hopefully. The elf sighed, holding his hands up helplessly.

"Prince Legolas' wounds is serious," he paused, pushing back the covers and revealing the blood soaked bandages. "The bleeding isn't stopping, I mean, it has slowed but not enough for me to be able to guarantee anything. And the infection has taken a great hold of him, his fever is higher than anything besides a blacksmith's fire should be." He stopped, shrugging."Thranduil, I'm not sure there is much else we can do. We will continue doing what we can, but he has to fight."

Any lesser elf might have cowed under the flashing angry flowing through his king's eyes, but he use to being the messenger of bad news. He could only grasp his king's shoulder, squeezing it firmly before letting go. "Come, my lord, you must sleep and eat. I promise that I will stay with Legolas and alert you to any changes in his condition."

Thranduil snorted in the healers direction, lowering himself to sit back into the chair that he had hardly moved from in the last five days. "I'm not leaving his side. I'm fine here. My son needs me."

"But—"

"That is enough! Unless you have anything useful to do, leave us." Thranduil looked directly away, ignoring the healer completely as he took Legolas' hand in his own. The elf turned away, taking the cue that his welcome was overspent, but the scene he left behind was a pitiful one.

Legolas was clearly in high distress, but as was Thranduil.

"You need him just as much as he needs you, if not more," the healer whispered softly, before closing the door.

Thranduil heard the door shut behind him and let his breath out in a loud rush. Bringing Legolas' burning hand up, he pressed it against his forehead as he bent over, his breathing hitching again as low sobs threatened to break free. His shoulders began to shake and he bent lowering, trying with all his might to stop the tears from flowing.

"Legolas…I-I need you." He choked on his words and it was several seconds before he found his voice again. "You have no clue, ion, how much I need you. You are everything. Without—" he stopped, no longer able to speak as his sobs overtook his lungs. "I've already lost my wife and my father. I can't lose you too."

"Is this what death is like?" Legolas asked, sinking to sit on the damp grass as his legs threatened not to hold his weight. Oropher smiled grimly, moving to sit next to him. The everlasting twilight that this world held for them hid the boy's face in shadows, but very real fear filled his face, despite his bravado earlier.

"Death…death is nothing that I can explain. But I can promise you, young one, that it is nothing to be afraid of." He watched in slight amusement as Legolas' black straightened indigently.

"I'm not afraid!"

"Of course, you are not…" Oropher resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Legolas was still young, and had a lot to learn, though if he was honest, the change in the young before him from the small toddler that he had known was astounding.

"Why are you smiling?" Legolas asked, turning his head so that his eyes locked on the fountain that was sprinkling water that glinted in the dying sunlight. "I am about to die. And you smile." Oropher's grin widened.

"I was remembering you as I knew you in life. Did you know that you were the cutest baby anyone could have laid eyes on! You had us all wrapped around your little finger, what with those big blue eyes and chubby little cheeks…"

"Grandfather!" Legolas hissed, blushing furiously and glancing around in embarrassment.

"What? No one else is going to hear us? Besides it is all true, and a king should always tell the truth." He began to laugh, watching Legolas burying his face in his knees. "You use to toddle around with your thumb in your mouth and your favorite blanket trailing behind you. Your mother use to get so exasperated that your blanket was always dirty, but you refused to sleep without it, so you always won in the end."

"I don't see a point in this," Legolas stated, his voice muffled. Oropher gave him The Look and continued on.

"You brought such peace and happiness, though. And laughter. I remember one day when you I took you out to the gardens so your parents could spend some time alone together and the birds were singing. You fought so hard to mimic them, and I swear I have never seen so many elves walk by us with red faces, all attempting not to laugh." He chortled, before falling silent, a far away gleam in his eyes. Legolas was silent as well, sneaking glances at his dead grandfather.

With a heavy sigh, Oropher tore his attention back to Legolas. "You have lived a good life, Legolas. A short one, yes, but a good one. But you also still have things to offer the living world. Missions to fulfill, friends to make. However, I will not lie. That life will more than likely be filled with hard times, loss, and pain. It will not be easy." He sighed. "I know times in Greenwood have been hard, and I can see it that you are tired of fighting. I would give anyting to change it so that fighting was not all that you knew. You are at to young of an age to crave peace. The time is fast approaching that you must make your decision, think carefully for you can not undo this choice." He smiled grimly at Legolas.

Legolas shook his head. "What would you do, Grandfather?" he asked almost pleadingly.

"I cannot answer that for you, Legolas. You must make this choice." Oropher patted his arm lightly and opened his mouth, but closed it again. Standing abruptly, he pulled Legolas up with him. "Come, let us walk once more. I always thought that nature and walking had a way of helping me sort through my own head."

"Legolas?!" Thranduil jerked awake, his eyes wild as they searched the room. Slowly his breathing returned to normal and he wiped a hand across his face. Legolas lay still next to him, his chest hardly moving. The bright light of mid-afternoon filled the room and its cheerful color gave the false illusion of color to Legolas' skin. The sheets were pulled up to his chest, hiding the bandages, but they could not hide the palpable feeling of death in the room. Legolas was hovering at death's door and Thranduil mentally cursed himself for falling asleep. Every second counted, for Legolas' could swing either direction. He had to help him. Had to convince him to come back.

"I'm still here, ion-nin," he whispered, wetting his son's cracked lips gently. "Ada isn't going to go anywhere. I've got you. I've got you…" Legolas remained still. "It will all be alright. Everything will be alright. Just come back to me, come back to me, Legolas." Feeling as flustered as he sounded, Thranduil leaned back, pressing his trembling fist against his mouth as a sob threatened to burst free. Scrambling blindly for Legolas lax hand, he gripped it with crushing force, as if his hold alone could bring his child back.

A low, keening sound left his lips as he began to rock back and forth, but Legolas remained almost absolutely motionless.

"You are growing…more real." Legolas looked over at his grandfather with wide eyes as they walked. It was true. While he hadn't been able to note the difference before, he could now tell easy tell between the slightly fuzzy version from before and this crystal clear one.

"I told you that you were dying and that your choice was soon to come upon you," Oropher said gently, watching Legolas, whose hands were shaking ever so slightly as he brushed his hair away from his face. Oropher reached out, gripping his shoulder tightly.

"It is alright. It is alright to be afraid... but use the fear. You have to make your decision because if you don't, then you won't get to make it." Oropher paused, opening his mouth before shutting it again.

Legolas nodded shakily, but he wasn't an idiot. He could see that Oropher wanted to say a lot more than what he was. He had an opinion on what Legolas should do, but he wasn't going to share it. He was leaving the choice entirely up to him.

"Do something!" Thranduil pleaded, his eyes wide and begging. The healer sighed helplessly, rubbing the back of his wrist against his brow.

"My Lord," he began but was silenced as Legolas rapidly deterring breathing abruptly stopped. "No, don't do this," he half whispered half pleaded, easing the prince up. Smacking him hard of the back to see if he could restart his breathing, he didn't even noticed as Thranduil wavered where he stood, his face whiter than death.

"Legolas…it is time."Oropher watched his grandson's face intently, calculating the flickering emotions. Oh, what he would have given for this second chance, the chance to make memories with his loved ones again, to make them laugh and smile, or even make them angry. He would give so much to fix the mistakes he had made, to tell his family that he loved them one last time.

Legolas bit his lip, but as he raised his head determination was glittering his eyes. "I want to go home," he said simply. "Ada needs me. Mirkwood needs me. " Oropher smiled proudly.

"Your highness!" The healer's loud voice rocked violently around in Thranduil's brain as he stared down at his motionless child. The image was blurring and shifting in front of his eyes rendering the scene even more horrible. "Your highness!" A sudden, sharp, pain burst across his face and abruptly everything shifted back into focus.

The healer was standing in front of him, hand raised high and cheeks flushed. Looking past him, Thranduil saw that Legolas had been propped high against the pillows. A low keening sound left his lips and his knees buckled, forcing the healer to grab his arms.

"King Thranduil! It is alright! He is alive…he's alive." The healer shook his liege slightly, blocking his view of Legolas.

"He still lives?" Thranduil blurted, forcing his legs to take his weight as his eyes became suspiciously bright. Pushing the other elf out of the way, Thranduil collapsed on the side of the bed and laid his hands on Legolas' chest. The prince's chest was moving shakily up and down, and though it was challenged, he was breathing. Letting out a sob, Thranduil let his head drop onto his son's chest, willing him to simply keep breathing.

"We don't have much time left." Oropher watched Legolas proudly. "You have great potential Legolas, always remember that."

"Grandfathers always say things like that…" Legolas brushed off with a smile. He looked around once more at the beauty surrounding them but felt no tug to stay like he had before. He had made his decision. Everything around him was starting to fuzz around the edges and he turned back to Oropher but didn't speak. What was one to say to his dead Grandfather?

"Do me one favor, child." Oropher soft voice roused him out his thoughts and Legolas nodded immediately. Oropher had his own distant look to his eyes and when he smiled down at him, Legolas found them glistening.

"Tell my son that I am proud of him. Tell your father that he was the only son I ever wanted and was always more than I could have asked for. Tell him…tell him I'm sorry that I left him, and that I am sorry that I didn't to more in life to let him how proud I was of him." Oropher's smile was boarding on bittersweet and Legolas nodded once. "And lastly, please, don't let him ever forget, that I love him, and you, more than even the most precious of jewels or gold. More even than Greenwood." Legolas nodded again, his young face turning serious as he realized the burden his grandfather was laying on him. The much older elf sighed, worry creasing his face. "And don't you ever, ever let him forget it," he finished at last around the lump in his throat. "You tell my son all that."

"I will, I promise," Legolas said sincerely. To his surprise Oropher reached out, pulling his grandson in close and clinging to him. "I promise," he repeated, hugging the elf he had only been allowed a short time with in life as hard as he could.

"I will see you again, Legolas." Oropher smiled once, holding him out at arms length once more. "But live a full life until then. Don't you make me have to revisit you while you are still alive, alright?" Legolas nodded.

"Till we meet again."

Thranduil collapsed back into the chair next to Legolas' bed, for the first times in days looking somewhat like the king he was. The healers had managed to convince him that Legolas would be alright if he stepped away for an hour to take care of his own needs, and he had returned in fresh clothes and with clean hair. To his uttermost relief, Legolas' condition hadn't gone downhill at all and he was still breathing steadily. Thranduil breathed his own sigh of relief at this, reaching out and momentarily squeezing the boy's arm.

"Call me if you need me," the healer said softly, before slipping out the door and leaving Thranduil alone with Legolas. The king of Mirkwood leaned his head back against the worn headrest of the chair, feeling more tired than he could ever remember. The next thing he knew, he had drifted off.

"Ada…Ada….?" The hoarse whisper penetrated Thranduil's sleep wrapped mind, but it only took a moment for him to jerk awake.

"Legolas?" his son's name was off his lips before his eyes were even open and he found himself half falling out of the chair, coming to kneel beside the bed. Legolas painstakingly twisted his head to look at his father, blinking drowsily.

"Ada?" he asked again, his voice cracking as he struggled to keep his eyelids open.

"Oh, Legolas…" was all Thranduil could say, gripping his son's arm tight enough that in the back of his mind he knew he was likely hurting him. "Legolas…" The relief that was spilling over in his voice was almost embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. Losing his father and his wife had just about killed him, but he had had Legolas to get him through it, it would have broken him to lose his son.

"Ada," Legolas repeated, his eyes slipping closed tiredly before he jerked them open. "Ada, I have something I have to tell you." He was slurring his words, but he feebly returned the grip his father had on his hand and smiled. His whole body hurt like he had been trampled by an Oliphant, but it was alright. It would heal, but right now he had a message to pass on.

THE END

Well, it all ended happily. :) I am not entirely sure what the next story is about (not a good sign, I know) but I promise something.

I have a proposition! I am in need of a favor and in turn in I will give you back a favor of some sort. If you are interested please PM before February 11, because the offer ends then. :) Thank you!