Thranduil gently lowered Legolas back down, while Celairdir replaced the cup on the table. The healer checked the prince's pulse and gave the worried father a reassuring smile.

"He is doing a little better. I hope the worst is over, even if it will take a while for him to recover."

The king breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't dare hope too soon, the previous night had left him badly shaken. He was utterly exhausted, the nagging fear for his son leaving him drained.

Celairdir gave Thranduil a scrutinizing look. "You look tired, why don't you rest? He pointed to another bed in the room. "Legolas will not wake for a while. I'll sit with him."

Thranduil wanted to refuse but Celairdir expected it and forestalled him. "You won't do him any good if you collapse from exhaustion."

After a moment of hesitation, the king relented and made his way over to the bed. "Wake me if there's even the slightest change in his condition." He laid down on the bed and soon his fatigue won and he slipped into sleep.

Celairdir settled down in the chair at Legolas' bedside, getting comfortable for the long hours of watching over the younger elf.

As Thranduil woke, he felt better. The light that fell through the window told him that he had slept for a few hours and that it was late in the evening. He pushed himself into a sitting position and immediately his gaze wandered to the bed his son rested in.

Celairdir was standing at the table, crushing herbs. As he heard Thranduil shift, he turned in his direction. "Good evening. I hope you slept well." He followed Thranduil's gaze and turned to Legolas, laying a hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "Don't worry, he is doing a bit better. He didn't wake yet but at least it looks like he is sleeping and no longer unconscious. His pulse is stronger."

Thranduil closed his eyes in relief, then he stood and went over to his son.

Legolas was still nearly as white as the sheets but his breathing was easier and as Thranduil touched his forehead, it was neither clammy nor burning. "What about his wounds?"

"No sign of infection and no further bleeding," the healer assured.

"The king took a deep breath. "That's good. When do you think he will wake?"

"I can't say for sure, but I don't think it will be too long now. He will be in considerable pain, even with the potion I gave him, so the more he sleeps, the better."

Thranduil nodded his understanding. "What about you, shouldn't you rest?"

"I will do so soon. I'll send for Fainor to attend to Legolas." The healer rubbed his eyes wearily. The last two days hadn't left him unaffected either. He was glad that Legolas showed signs of improvement so he dared to leave him in the care of Fainor and get some rest.

Thranduil gripped his shoulder. "Thank you, my friend." There were many emotions in the eyes of the king, the most prominent one was gratitude.

Celairdir squeezed Thranduil's hand. "You know how much I care about him. There is no need to thank me. You should send word to Galion, though. I imagine that the poor guy is quite busy at the moment."

Thranduil couldn't stop a chuckle. "I believe you are right. He surely has his hands full to fend off all the elves demanding one thing or another."

Celairdir smiled, gave Legolas a last look and left the room, finally being able to get some rest.

Thranduil reclaimed his seat at his son's bedside and resumed his watch, although with a lighter heart.

Once more the darkness receded somewhat and he was able to sense something. There was a dull ache, especially in his side and thigh. He still couldn't open his eyes or give any sign that he was aware of his surroundings. He heard the soft voices of his father and another elf, although he still couldn't make out what they were saying.

Breathing was easier than the first time he surfaced and his senses worked a bit better even if he still couldn't make sense of most of what happened around him. Somebody was touching him, lifting him up slightly while he felt other hands on his side. The pain flared momentarily, then something cool was spread onto his wound and his injury was wrapped again.

He felt himself being lowered back to the bed and his head came to rest on a pillow. A hand stroked his hair and he was covered with a soft blanket, then his father's voice sounded once more.

He tried to cling to consciousness a bit longer, but his body demanded rest and so he slipped into sleep again.

In the morning Thranduil was talking with Fainor when a light knock at the door interrupted them.

"Enter," Thranduil called.

The door was pushed open and Tinwion slipped through, closing it behind him.

"My Lord," he bowed to Thranduil, "I wanted to return this to you." He held out his hands and only now did Thranduil realize that he had Legolas' weapons. For a moment, he was confused, then he remembered that Tinwion had taken Legolas' weapons after they had removed them from his son.

He accepted the bow, quiver and knives from the younger elf and placed them on a table, noting that Tinwion had obviously cleaned them. "Thank you for taking care of them."

The warrior inclined his head, then he straightened and cast a glance in the direction of the bed. "How is Legolas?" Tinwion and Legolas had often gone on patrol together and the both of them had developed a firm friendship.

Thranduil gave him a reassuring smile. "He is doing better. He hasn't woken yet but Celairdir expects him to make a full recovery."

"Tinwion breathed deeply. "Thank the Valar. I was worried, there was so much blood."

Thranduil couldn't suppress a shudder as he remembered how his son had looked as they had found him. "Yes," he agreed softly, "he gave us quite a scare."

"Has there been any word from Angon yet?" Tinwion asked.

"No word about orc activity so far. The patrols didn't encounter anything unusual. They will continue at least until the old forest road. We still don't know what these orcs were doing here."

"Thank the Valar that Legolas is such a fine warrior. Otherwise it could have ended badly."

Thranduil grimaced. "It ended badly enough."

Tinwion couldn't say anything to that. After all, the king was right.

Since Legolas was slowly improving, Thranduil had asked Galion to bring him the work gathering on his desk. He had pulled up a table and was now reading reports and responding to letters. His pen lightly scraped across the paper. Celairdir had returned a few hours ago and relieved Fainor. He sat in a corner, sorting herbs and other items. Except for the scraping of the pen and the rustling from Celairdir, the room was quiet.

A soft noise from the prince immediately drew their attention. Legolas shifted in the bed, his head moving on the pillow. For the first time since they brought him to the stronghold he showed signs of waking.

Thranduil got up and leaned over his son, watching him intently. The younger elf moaned softly, then his eyelids fluttered. His forehead creased and it seemed that he was feeling the pain from his wounds.

"Legolas?" Thranduil asked softly.

Celairdir appeared at his side, laying a hand on Legolas' brow. "Penneth?" he asked. "Can you hear us?"

Another moan escaped from the younger elf, then his eyelids lifted and tired blue eyes gazed in their direction. Legolas blinked, seeming confused, then his eyes focused on their faces and a spark of recognition appeared.

Thranduil's lips curved upwards in a relieved smile. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from him. Finally seeing his son conscious again did a lot to ease his worry.

Legolas' eyes locked on his. "Adar," he whispered.

Thranduil smiled at his son, taking his hand and squeezing gently. "My son, finally you are awake. You had me so worried."

Celairdir carefully gripped Legolas' shoulder. "Don't try to move, your wounds are severe."

Seeing the confusion in Legolas' eyes, his father asked softly, "Do you remember what happened?"

Legolas furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment. "The storm...orcs," he finally managed.

"Yes, you went out to check for damages and encountered a group of orcs. We found you south of the palace, badly injured," Thranduil explained.

Legolas' gaze darkened as he remembered the desperate fight. He swallowed and coughed weakly. "Thirsty," he murmured.

Celairdir took a pitcher of water from the table and filled a cup while Thranduil sat down on the bedside and carefully placed an arm behind his son's back. He lifted Legolas gently, not missing the soft hiss of pain as the movement pulled at the wound in his side. Celairdir placed the cup against Legolas' lips and let him drink. After the younger elf had enough Celairdir put the cup back and took another one.

"This will help with the pain," he explained.

He helped Legolas drink the medicine, then Thranduil carefully lowered his son back down.

Legolas needed a moment to catch his breath, lines of pain were visible on his face. He searched his father's gaze again. "How long..."

"More than two days," Thranduil said softly. "You lost a lot of blood and your wounds were poisoned." He brushed a strand of hair out of Legolas' face and gently laid his hand against his cheek. "You were very ill, my son."

"What about the orcs?" Legolas asked.

"After we found you, I sent Agon out to follow your tracks. They found the orcs and burned them. Angon sent patrols out to search for more orcs but so far there haven't been reports about other groups of them."

Legolas blinked sleepily. "I didn't expect them so far in the north."

Thranduil pulled the blanket up to his son's chin. "We couldn't find out what they did there. I find it hard to believe that it was just bad luck that you encountered them." He studied his son's face. Legolas looked better, a bit of color had returned to him and he breathed easy once again even if he looked incredibly exhausted. "Sleep now, you need to rest," he ordered softly.

His son's eyes closed slowly and he relaxed into the mattress as sleep claimed him.

Celairdir watched Legolas intently and took his wrist, checking his pulse. He turned to Thranduil. "It will take some time for him to recover, but he is certainly out of danger now."

The king let out a sigh of relief. It had been days filled with worry and he thanked the Valar that they had spared his son and he could finally relax.

In the next few days, Legolas slept a lot, but his periods of wakefulness increased slowly. Thranduil still stayed most of the time with him, even if he had resumed some of his duties. Word about Legolas' condition had spread fast after he had been brought back to the stronghold and the elves of Mirkwood had feared for their prince's live. So nobody begrudged the king the time he spent with his son.

Celairdir finally removed the stitches and allowed Legolas to leave his bed for the first time. The prince's wounds still pained him and moving put a lot of strain on his side but he was persistent. With the help of his father, who had a firm grip around his waist, he slowly made his way over to the adjoining room.

Thranduil gently settled his son on the couch in front of the fireplace, placing a few pillows behind his back and covering him with two soft blankets.

The small exertion had exhausted Legolas, who was dismayed how weak he still was. But being able to finally get up and walk around did a lot to calm his restless spirit.

Thranduil pulled a chair over and settled at the table near the couch. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Not now. Thank you, Adar." Legolas relaxed against the pillows as the pain caused by his movements slowly abated.

"Angon and Tinwion asked if you are up for a visit. I told them maybe tomorrow. What do you think?"

Legolas smiled. "I would like to see them."

Thranduil returned his smile, noting with satisfaction that his color was nearly back to normal. "Good, I'll let them know. Just promise not to overdo it."

"Adar..." Legolas started to protest but he was interrupted when Celairdir entered with a tray in his hands.

"Something to eat for the both of you, you certainly need it." He placed the tray on the table and put two plates in front of Thranduil and Legolas.

The king couldn't help but chuckle at the attitude of the healer. "Thank you, my friend." He grasped Celairdir's arm and locked his gaze with him. "For everything." The other elf couldn't miss the gratitude shining from Thranduil's eyes. Celairdir had been a steady support during the last days and Thranduil appreciated it greatly.

Celairdir wordlessly squeezed Thranduil's shoulder, then he left father and son alone.

During their meal Thranduil entertained Legolas with a few episodes that had happened during council in the last days. After they had eaten, Thranduil settled down at the table to get some work done, while Legolas snuggled beneath the blankets and started to read a book.

After half an hour Thranduil looked up to see that the book was about to slip from his son's fingers. Legolas had drifted off to sleep. He silently stood up and rescued the book from falling to the floor.

Watching his son for a moment, he noted the steady breathing and the open, glazed eyes as Legolas wandered in elven dreams. He was certainly on the mend and Thranduil thanked the Valar once more that Legolas had survived the encounter with the orcs.

He knew that it wouldn't be long before his son would resume his duties and lead his patrol again into the dangerous parts of the forest. But at the moment he was on the road to recovery and safe within the stronghold and that was all that mattered.

He settled down again with his work, the only noises breaking the silence the soft breathing of Legolas and the occasional crackling of the fire.

For the first time since the storm, Thranduil truly felt at peace.

END