Thranduil left the throne room so swiftly that Aragorn couldn't even ask what was happening. All knew was that the storm was getting stronger, and had not ceased how it should have. What did he mean by a force? Awakened? The stubborn King hadn't bothered to explain himself.

Once again, Aragorn was left confused. He was about to leave after him when Legolas appeared in the doorway.

"Aragorn."

Aragorn jumped, obviously somewhat startled from his sudden entrance. Elves were so quiet, and light on their feet.

"Legolas!"

"My Ada went storming to his quarters. What has happened, mellon-nin?"

"I do not know. He is being so vague."

"I worry for he does not seem alright. Is he ill? Do you know anything?" Legolas' tender eyes flooded with concern for his father.

"No, I am afraid not."

"I should see to it that he does not make any rash decisions."

"Please do."

Aragorn watched Legolas almost run down the hall, but slow to a light jog as he passed the guards. It was evident that he sensed something to be very wrong. Aragorn sensed it too, and calmly followed Legolas' path.

Legolas knocked lightly on the doors of Thranduil's quarters.

"Ada? May I come in?"

There was no answer, and he paused before asking again.

"Ada, are you alright? May I come in?"

Once again, there was no answer. Why did he not answer him? What was the matter? He felt his heart beat pick up as he pushed the door open just a crack. He was afraid of what he might find. His imagination ran away to follow dark roads. Only the candles in the window sill above the bed provided light. In the bed, laid Thranduil. His crown had fallen to the floor. Red berries and autumnal leaves spread over the wood. All of of his robes were still on. He hadn't changed. The covers seemed thrown over him. Not gently tucked like they would normally be. It was an unusual sight. How could he have fallen asleep so quickly? It had been only 5 minutes at best.

Legolas approached carefully. "Ada?"

As he examined the surrouding elements, he noticed that Thranduil's hand held something. Uncurling his weak fist, he revealed it. A piece of paper. No, a note and a small empty vile. Legolas felt panic engulf him as he wondered of the possible answers he hoped were all the wrong ones. Legolas opened the note.

It simply read: "Sacrifices must be made. The storm will pass."

Upon reading such a thing, he began feeling his hands tremble. A knot grew in his throat. What did it mean? What was wrong?

Words escaped his mouth before he gave them permission. "Wake up, Ada!" Shaking and pulling at the unconscious King Thranduil did nothing to wake him. Aragorn heard his friend's yell, and rushed to the room faster.

"Legolas! What's wrong?"

"He does not wake!" The note fell from his hand, but Aagorn caught it. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he tried to calm him down.

"Be calm, mellon-nin. He is breathing?"

"Yes."

"Then you musn't worry just yet."

Legolas gave a nod of his head, signaling his agreement, and Aragorn glanced at the paper in his fingers. "Did Thranduil leave this?"

"Yes. Read it."

Aragorn did so, and immidiately looked up at his friend. He had no clue what this meant. What sacrifices? Why was this damn storm causing King Thranduil to frett? Aragorn took note of the vile still in Thranduil's hand.

"What is that?"

"I do not know. We should call for a healer."

"Yes, yes we should."

The healer had come, and took his time to make sure that the King of Mirkwood was still in good health. Legolas and Aragorn stood outside the room, giving the healer space to work, and waiting. Finally, the healer opened the door to give the news. The two stared anxiously at the man.

The healer sighed, "He drank a potion that I have not seen in quite some time. It is composed partly of the magic of Elven ancestors. The good news is, he's alright."

Legolas stared at the healer questioningly. "There is bad news?"

"He will not wake up."

Aragorn was shocked, and saddened. Legolas leaned against the wall, with a weak hand over his heart. The Elf Prince, under such circumstances, would be crowned King. Now grief stricken, and burdened with his Kingdom's weight. His heart nearly lept from his chest. His lungs constricted, and under the pressure of every breath, it proved too much. In moments, Legolas' consciousness had fled from him like a scared fawn. The last thing he could remember was Aragorn reaching out for him as a black veil enshrouded his vision.

In his dreams, he wove a flower bed from light rays. He wove the mosses from mist clouds, and all the animals of the forest were born from constellations. It was a peaceful land, that man did not touch. But the dream didn't last long, and he soon woke. His eyes fluttering to life, and his heart back to a normal pace.

The healer was beside him, and Aragorn was sitting in a chair nearby. Legolas felt their eyes on him.

"How do you feel?" He heard the healer ask. Aragorn jumped to his feet, and came over to the bed.

"Legolas?"

"I am fine." He sat up slowly, taking in what had happened.

The healer left to stay by the side of King Thranduil, whom he was greatly dedicated to, and left the men in their conversation.

"You fainted."

"I am sorry, for I was weak." Legolas didn't allow his eyes to wander any farther than his own hands.

"Do not be sorry. I understand. The recent events cause you great distress. Just know, I am with you."

Legolas laid back down in the bed for further rest, and closed his eyes. Words of encouragment were both wanted, and needed.

"Hannon le."

By the evening, the whole Kingdom had heard of the events that transpired within the palace walls. Rumors had spread of an assassination to allow the young Prince Legolas to become King. There were other rumors going as far as to suggest that it was Legolas himself, who betrayed King Thranduil. Of course, none of which were true. Yet it sparked suspicions among the people of Mirkwood. Soon stories had spread all across the lands, and even to The Shire they journeyed.