Legolas leaned back against the door as he closed it with a small sigh of pain. Twenty paces across the floor stood Thranduil's wide, large oaken desk, polished and shining, piled with neat stacks of paper, inkwells, stained quills, a goblet, a bottle of red wine, and candles set in neat rows all along the edges. In a chair behind it sat Thranduil himself, frowning over a paper with a pen poised over the page. He glanced up and Legolas's heart almost stopped from fear.

Thranduil's face softened into a smile and he laid down his pen. "Ion nin, you do not come to see me often while I am working. What can I help you with?"

Legolas hesitated. Ada seemed to unsuspecting and kind and loving. Yet the minute he learned the reason for his visit, he would explode into fury. The thought of searing pain and merciless fire sickened his stomach.

"Legolas?"

"Ada, I-I," Legolas stammered. He stumbled as he approached his father's desk.

Thranduil rose to his feet with speed, worry shaping his face. Legolas looked pale, almost lifeless. Something was wrong.

Legolas clenched his teeth as he gave a jerky bow, the wounds on his back stretching with the movement. "I have—have come to ask you for something."

"There is no need to fear asking me for something," Thranduil said, his voice gentle. "And no need to bow. What it is?"

Legolas stared into his father's eyes, wishing with desperation in his heart Thranduil's words were true. He wanted to beg ada to stop his punishments but dread held the words back. The pain in his back and the need to share it took control of his mouth and, without meaning to, he blurted out, "Please have Eigil stop punishing me. I-I cannot take any more!"

Thranduil's brow ceased. "Eigil is your teacher, Legolas, and if he sees fit to punish you then it is part of his duty as your teacher. But—"

A harsh sob escaped Legolas. He fell on his knees at Thranduil's feet, lifting his pale face to his father's and begging, "No! No! Ada, please, I beg of you, make him stop! I cannot live with this pain! I did not mean to be a failure and a disgrace to you. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry!"

Legolas curled on the floor, his body convulsing with sobs. Eigil had been telling the truth; ada had given him permission to punish him. Cold, heartless cruel. Ada, ada, ada. The last hope that Eigil had been lying to him dissolved into unfriendly blackness.

Thranduil's eyes opened wide in alarm and he dropped to his knees beside Legolas, struggling to contain his mounting panic. He reached toward his son. "Sshhh, Legolas, shh, everything is fine. Calm down, ion nin, please calm down and tell me what is wrong."

Legolas tried to obey his father; he tried to calm down. But the tears kept coming. Sobbing, he thought ada would punish him for disobeying. The fear of being burned turned his stomach into a pool of terror. When Thranduil reached out to embrace him, Legolas misunderstood the action. He cringed back, his vision blurry. Ada was about to punish him now. Ada would touch him. Ada's hands would be hot—so hot. They would melt the flesh from his bones. He backed away from Thranduil, unable to accept the punishment this time. He wanted to run; to flee to safety. But when he tried to run, his body burned in protest and he stumbled back against the wall, crying out as pain jolted his body. The world spun as he collapsed to the floor but he could still make out Thranduil coming toward him. He crawled past the desk and curled in the corner, wrapping his arms around himself and shuddering.

Thranduil's hand landed on his shoulder and Legolas screamed, imaging terrible, searing pain. It took him several minutes to realize the pain existed in his mind and Thranduil's hand was gentle and cool. As Thranduil's fingers brushed his wet cheeks, Legolas turned his confused, frightened gaze to his father's face; tears still streaming from his eyes.

Thranduil's face was white and his eyes pools of worry. He tried to speak but words failed him. His stomach churned at the sight of his trembling, cowering son. Legolas was afraid, his eyes wide. Legolas was afraid and hurt. Legolas was afraid of his father. And Thranduil did not know why but to see his son so weak and vulnerable tore at his heart. He leaned forward and hugged his little leaf to his strong chest, resting his cheek on Legolas's head.

Legolas struggled at first, trying to escape Thranduil's firm grip. As his initial panic faded, his realized Thranduil was not hurting him. He snuffled against ada's chest as he felt fingers stroking his hair.

"What have I done to make you fear me?" Thranduil asked, his voice soft and kind.

Legolas had no wish to answer but he must. It was against the rules not to answer when a question was asked. "I-I thought you were an-angry w-with m-me for b-being a f-f-failure." Tears threatened to choke him.

Thranduil blinked, fighting to understand what Legolas meant. As his confusion and worry threatened to send him into a whirl of panic, he swallowed and said, "Come, little leaf, you are hot and sweaty. You need a cool bath to help you recover your senses. You can tell me everything when you are ready."

Legolas nodded, relief washing over him. He stood up, stumbling against his father, and followed Thranduil through the adjoining door into the large chamber of his parents. He wiped his running eyes, his fear beginning to ebb away. Ada was not like Eigil had led him to believe. Ada was . . . different.

Thranduil filled the stone tub in the bathroom with cold water and heated it to a pleasant warm with a touch of his fingers. His thoughts were in turmoil but he refused to think about them, focusing on the task of channeling hot energy into the water. He beckoned to Legolas hesitating in the doorway, and watched his son come toward him, forlorn and lost.

"Your bath is ready," Thranduil said. "Undress and climb in. You will feel better in the water, I promise."

Legolas obeyed out of habit. Dry blood had crusted to his shirt, having soaked through the bandages. As he tugged his shirt off with care, he heard his father gasp, and he twisted to look at Thranduil. He tilted his head to one side as he saw Thranduil staring at the bandages on his back in horror. As Legolas looked at him, Thranduil blinked and said in a faint voice, "You are hurt."

Legolas nodded sadly. Did ada not know he was hurt from the punishments since he had ordered them? He let his shirt fall to the floor.

Thranduil swayed and rushed to his son's side. "Why have you kept this from me? Why have you not told me? Oh, tithen las, tithen las! No, no, let me do it."

Legolas held still as his father walked around him, unwinding yards of bloody bandages. He could not understand Thranduil's reactions. Ada was confusing. As the wounds, hidden beneath the layers of bindings, were revealed, Thranduil's face grew paler and paler. As the pile of red stained cloth fell to the floor, Thranduil stood staring limply at the ugly sight of his son's back. Old scars were laced with knew ones, the skin torn and peeling. Flesh lay open, oozing blood and pus. He did not know what to feel or think. His body's instincts helped out and he turned quickly away, vomiting into the sink. Some of the sickness gone from his stomach, he steeled himself and turned back around.

Legolas sank down into the water, his arms trembling as he lowered himself into the tub. The water around his back turned a dull red. Thranduil swallowed as he sat down on the wide rim of the tub, beside the rack of bottles. Legolas twisted to look up at him, his eyes wide and lost.

"Legolas, I must tend to your back," Thranduil said. "I want you to know any pain you feel I do not intend to cause you purposefully. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ada," Legolas murmured.

Thranduil picked up a cloth, dipped it into a deep bowl of water and wiped the oozing blood from Legolas's back. Legolas hissed, his whole body clenching up.

While his hands worked at cleaning the wound, Thranduil spoke to his son, distracting Legolas's mind from his pain. Legolas clung to the sound of his voice, tears coursing down his face. As time passed, his tired eyes began to close and his head slid forward, his chin coming to rest on his chest.

Thranduil laid down the cloth and gave his son a little shake. Legolas jumped awake, splashing water from the tub, stuttering over an apology.

"Come, Legolas," Thranduil said. "The water is cold. I must bandage your wounds and then you must rest."

Legolas dragged himself from the tub and wrapped a warm towel around his tired body. He followed Thranduil into the big bedroom. The air was cool and a steady rain fell outside the window. He stood in the center of the floor while his father rubbed salve into his back and wrapped clean bandages around the wounds. His task completed, Thranduil smiled and leaned forward to kiss Legolas on the cheek. Legolas lowered his confused eyes to the floor.

"Rest now," Thranduil said.

For the first time Legolas hesitated. Now that he knew Eigil had been telling partial truths, he was afraid the elf would come for revenge as soon as he was out of the safety of his father's presence. And after Thranduil's gentle touches, he could not face the sting of the whip again.

Legolas faltered. "Ada, I-I do not wish to leave you . . ." He took an instinctive step back in fear of the punishment for denial.

"I do not wish for you to leave me either," Thranduil said. "Sleep in my bed."

Legolas stumbled to the big bed with a grateful sigh. He tumbled into the sheets as Thranduil pulled the blankets back. As the cool blankets wrapped around him, he turned his head toward Thranduil and murmured, "Hannon le."

Thranduil sat beside his son, holding his hand until his eyes closed. Silent tears slid down in his cheeks in slow succession. What had happened? What had he done? He had allowed Legolas to be brutally and cruelly abused right underneath his very eyes!