"Cinwe, help me," Thranduil pleaded, clutching his wife. "I am at a loss. Legolas is hurt and alone and lost and he does not trust me. This is my fault and I know not what to do! What I swore would never happen has come to pass!"

Cinwe ran a hand over her husband's cheek, looking into his eyes and stilling his hands. "Thranduil, relax. Legolas will learn to love and trust again. He needs you to be strong for him and believe."

Thranduil sank into the chair behind himself and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking, "Oh valar, oh valar, oh valar, I do not know what to do . . . my mind is a turmoil of confusion and horror at what I have done!"

"I am as much to blame as you," Cinwe said gently. "I too feel torn inside but we have to be strong for our children."

Thranduil swallowed, struggling to control himself. "Yes, I know, but the harm Legolas has come to weighs so heavily upon my mind . . . I feel as if I inflicted every cruel injury marring his body myself." He shuddered.

Cinwe reached down to take Thranduil's hand in hers. "In a way, we did wield the whip. We neglected him, left him open and vulnerable. I think he would have overcome his feelings of rejection given enough time, and we would have realized we had thrown him over Brenen, Realn, and Mykar; we would have come back together again. But while he was alone and sad, while we were with out other children, encouraging them and giving them most of our time, Eigil attacked him and twisted his feelings with lies, resulting in this nightmare."

Thranduil pressed Cinwe's hand to his cheek. "I love you so much. The monster it would take to attack a child in such a cruel way . . ."

Cinwe wiped the tear from her face with a small sniff, tendrils of silky hair falling in front of her face as she leaned down to kiss Thranduil on the forehead. "It hurts to think of it. And it is worrying to think Eigil is out there, hiding. The scouts have yet to find him and bring him back."

Thranduil stood up with a small sigh. "Yes . . . I will check on Legolas. Then I have work to do. Stay with him when I am gone, Cinwe. He will need you more then me, and he will trust you more for Eigil spun no lies about you to him."

Cinwe nodded. As Thranduil opened the door, he met the worried blue eyes of Brenen, Realn, and Mykar.

"Is—is Legolas all right?" Realn quavered.

Thranduil swallowed, feeling his heart burn with ache at the sight of his sons in their distress.

"Legolas is healing," Thranduil said, kneeling in the doorway to be at eye level with the elflings. "He is tired ad hurt and he needs quiet and a lot of love to recover."

"C-can we see him?" Realn asked. Thranduil noticed he was squeezing the crystal ball he held in one hand tightly.

"Not yet," Thranduil said.

"Please," Mykar whispered.

"Take them with you," Cinwe advised. "I will stay with them and Legolas and keep everyone quiet so he may rest. Legolas is their brother, Thranduil, and they care about him as much as we do."

Thranduil stood up and crossed the hall, taking Realn and Mykar by the hand. As he turned the knob to his room, he said, "You must be quiet; your brother is very tired."

As three heads nodded, Thranduil opened the door and softly crossed the carpeted floor toward his bed. Brenen, Realn, and Mykar clustered around him and Cinwe as they stared at Legolas lying on his stomach beneath the white sheets, his eyes closed, dark shadows beneath his eyes. His blonde hair fell over his shoulders onto the pillow.

Thranduil leaned down to nestle the blankets around Legolas more closely and run a hand over his son's smooth hair. He stepped back with reluctance, patting Brenen on the head, nodding to Cinwe as he walked from the room and shut the door, uttering a long sigh. He took slow steps in the direction of his office, feeling grim and gloomy. Legolas had slept for three days without waking, not even responding to the feel of his bandages being changed and his wounds cleaned.

As he sat down at his desk in the large room and picked up his pen, he stared at the papers before him, wishing he could abandon his work and let the kingdom fall into chaos for a while. He cared not what happened to the kingdom; he wanted to sit with his injured son until he awoke. But . . . some dreams had to be laid aside in the face of reason. Cinwe would take good care of Legolas.

Thranduil began his work, leaving his seat to pour himself a goblet of wine to steady his nerves. The cup was empty when the door to his office opened. Thranduil looked up in fear, half expecting it to be Cinwe coming with bad news, but it was Realn.

"I am sorry to in-interrupt you, ada," Realn began. His hand squeezed the crystal ball so tight his knuckles were white.

Thranduil leapt to his feet and hurried to Realn's side, seeing fury kindled in his son's eyes and steadily building. He pried the crystal ball from Realn's grip and took his son's hands in his own. Realn clung to him, biting his lip.

"Why are you angry?" Thranduil asked. "Have your brothers been teasing you?"

"No," Realn said. He exploded, "I hate Eigil! I want to twist his head from his neck and smash his face to mush! He does not deserve a quick death or banishment! I want him to die a long, painful death for what he did to my brother! I wish I could burn him and hear him scream! It would serve him right! I hate him!"

Thranduil patted Realn's back. "Hush, hush, ion nin. I know you are angry; I am to . . . Realn, please try and calm yourself."

Realn shook his head, gritting his teeth, his hands clenching into fists as he tore them away from his father. "NO! I do not want to calm down! I want to kill Eigil! I-I cannot control myself."

Thranduil looked at his son, trembling with contained rage. He beckoned to Realn as he walked toward the door. "Come with me. We will go down to the training courtyard and you can expel your anger in the form of fire."

Realn drew in a deep breath, giving a small nod. Thranduil left his office and guided his son to the stone courtyard, taking in the fresh air and warm sunshine as he walked. The trees were bright green with leaf, and the path was clear in the grass. He stood to one side of the iron door as Realn rushed into the center of the courtyard, flung his head back and shrieked, flames exploding from his mouth. The fire curled in the sunshine, giving off a wide rush of heat. Realn collapsed on his hands and knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, fire rushing in rivers from his hands and swirling in a wide pool of flame around him.

"I HATE HIM!" Realn screamed from within the flames, as the fire rose to engulf him. "Hate him!" He buried his face in his hands and sobbed as the angry flames subsided into his puddle of grief.

Thranduil ran to Realn's side and gathered the elfling into his arms, rocking him with a sad expression. "It is all right, ion nin, Eigil cannot and never will hurt your brother ever again. The valar will ensure, and I will ensure, he cannot harm anyone ever again."

Realn snuffled against his neck, his tears sliding down Thranduil's neck and soaking the front of his robe. He wrapped his arms around his father and clung to him until his rage and grief were dried into the cloth of his father's clothes. As he wriggled upright, Thranduil wiped the tears from his face and kissed him.

"I-I feel better now," Realn faltered, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Good," Thranduil said, patting his son on the cheek. "Let us fetch your crystal ball from my office now."

Realn sniffed. He looked over Thranduil's shoulder as the iron grate creaked.

"You have a visitor waiting for you in your office," Galion said.

"Who is it?" Thranduil asked, twisting to look at his little brother. Galion was tall and handsome, his dark eyes smiling. He was training under the tutorship of the head butler of the palace, and enjoying the work to the fullest extent of his heart.

"Raileen," Galion answered.