Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any characters associated with them; They belong to their rightful owner J.R.R. Tolkien. We just borrow them to play.
My Elvish sucks. Tolkien forgive me. *sobs*

A/N: Finally getting around to posting the second chapter to this. :) Sorry it took so long, but hopefully it will be worth the wait! Don't forget there will be a small epilogue after this. I'll more than likely post that next week with a new update for Beating the Elements.

Ruin

Elrond sighed wearily as he finally sat his knife down and looked at the shuddering elf that lay in ruin on the bed before him. He nodded to Glorfindel to finally release his hold on his head, while he gently lay a cloth across Thranduil's cheek to protect the exposed area. He then moved to stand in front of Thranduil's face and knelt down to look him in the eye. It was clear the elf had lost all his sight in his left eye, the once deep, blue-grey depths nothing more than a white haze that saw nothing.

The raven haired elf could not be sure if it was a blessing he still had the eye or not, because it was useless. He laid a part of the cloth over the ruined eye and he shook the thought from himself when he noticed Thranduil's good eye blearily looking at him. He could not quite tell if the Sinda was looking at him or not. "Thranduil..." He whispered, reaching out and running his long fingers through the other elf's white golden hair.

"Tell me you are done... I cannot withstand a moment more..." It hurt for Thranduil to speak. Between his screaming which left his throat raw and the open wound on his face, it simply hurt him to utter a single word. His mind was looking for anything to grasp ahold so that he did not have to focus on the pain, but trying to learn of his condition forced him to speak and thus the pain was simply never ending.

"Shh, do not speak." Elrond knew it would be painful for him so he would lay everything bare for Thranduil. He was never one to hold back information concerning his patients, finding it better for everyone if he told them the truth to their faces. He would not change in his ways now.

Looking at Glorfindel, the half-elf healer nodded. "Mellon nín, get him some water." He asked, turning his grey eyes back on Thranduil. He still stroked Thranduil's hair in an attempt to comfort him.

Glorfindel did as he was told, quickly getting a cup and filling it with water. He then handed the cup back to Elrond, before he reached for a chair and sat it down. Elrond took both the cup and the chair gratefully, and he sat down heavily while leaning over to help Thranduil drink, holding the cup to his lips.

Thankfully, the elf lay on his right side, and his right cheek had not been injured, so the fluids were mostly swallowed as Elrond slowly helped him sip the water. He had to be slow, and the cringes and winces of pain from Thranduil as the water seeped out of the open wound on his face were heartbreaking for both elves present to witness it.

The water was appreciated, but the pain that came with it was just another thing Thranduil added to his already long list of painful things to try and push from his mind. It was not working. He looked to Elrond, silently begging him to get his mind off it by speaking. Although the Sinda had a sinking feeling anything Elrond said would not be good news outside of the fact he was still currently alive.

And Thranduil knew that death could still claim him, but he fiercely pushed that dark thought from him before it had time to truly sink in.

Setting the cup aside, Elrond then looked at Thranduil with an unreadable expression. Glorfindel stood beside him, and he had to work hard not to show the dismay and sorrow that he felt for the white golden haired elf. Thranduil could barely make out Glorfindel's presence, so he focused his eye on Elrond whom sat in front of him. "How bad..."

Shaking his head, Elrond continued to stroke his hair gently, like a father trying to soothe a child. "Do not speak. It will only cause to serve more pain. I have done all I can at this time, Thranduil. I will have to clean your wounds again soon, and rewrap them to make sure infection does not set in. I will have to do this many times until they have mended. It will be painful, but you have survived the worst of it, I believe."

If there was anything positive to say on the situation, that was it. Though Elrond could not begin to speak on how amazed he was that Thranduil remained conscious through the whole procedure.

A frown creased his features, as Elrond then had to tell Thranduil the true extent of the damage. "Goheno nin, mellon. There is nothing I can do for your eye. Your left eye has been ruined by the dragonfire, it will never regain sight." He paused, and he felt his heart go out to the Sinda for what he had to say next.

"Thranduil, though I believe most of the wounds you sustained over the left side of your body will mend if you can survive that long, the damage done to your face is permanent. No Elvish healing can mend that wound. No magic can recover the skin lost. Dragonfire is magic as we are, and it prevents us from recovering from severe wounds. Yours is such the case. I am truly sorry. I did all I could."

Though Elrond looked composed, the healer in him was frustrated beyond belief. He was angry at himself for his failure to mend Thranduil's disfiguring injuries.

Glorfindel could not look at Thranduil's face, not because of injury, for the cloth covered it from sight, but for the deep sorrow and agony he saw there. He reached out and gripped Elrond's shoulder, knowing that Elrond was blaming himself for Thranduil's new pain and sorrow.

Elrond was truly thankful for his friend's comforting presence. He waited a moment for Thranduil to absorb this information, watching the play of emotions flash across the elf's face. Horror, sorrow, pain, anger, so many emotions were swirling in the Eldar that lay in front of him.

Finally there was simply the expression of someone whom was trying to hide a pain from others. It could be described as an expression of a dull ache. "Le hannon..." Thranduil said, not even sure himself of what else he could possibly say at this moment. The news was still too new, the sorrow was still too close to the surface to trust in words concerning it's source.

Nodding, Elrond stayed a moment longer, resting his hand on Thranduil's head before he pulled back. "Shall I get Legolas for you?" He asked. He was unsure of whether or not Thranduil would want his son seeing him in such a state, but he also knew that both of them were well aware Thranduil still may not survive the injuries sustained from the dragon's devastating fire.

The elf himself did not know if he wanted to see Legolas. But he did not want his son to be left to sit in his fearful thoughts and worry over his father. After a moment, Thranduil was about to nod but stopped himself and simply said "yes" as softly as he could manage. It still hurt beyond words could explain to speak.

Elrond stood and nodded to the injured elf. "I will get him." He glanced at Glorfindel, whom was about to volunteer but Elrond shook his head as he stepped away from the bed. "I must do this Glorfindel. I need to tell Legolas what to expect and how to handle it. Please, go and rest. I still have much that I need to do after I speak with Legolas. You have not yet rested since returning from the battlefield."

"I will rest as long as it takes for you to speak with Legolas. I was ordered by Gil-galad to do what I could to help, and until he relieves me of that duty I intend on helping you with the other wounded that still need your attention. You have been working tirelessly since the dragonfire was spread on the battlefield. You need the aid. And I will not hear of any arguments or complaints."

Both knew it would be pointless in arguing with Glorfindel, so Elrond just offered a smile in silent thanks and nodded. Returning the gesture, Glorfindel gripped Elrond's shoulder. "Do not blame yourself for those wounds. You did all you could to save him. He is alive at this moment due to your efforts. Take heart in that." With that said, Glorfindel turned and began walking out of the tent. He would sit down not far from the tent and watch Elrond while resting his weary legs and back for a moment.

Watching Glorfindel, Elrond prepared himself to speak with Legolas. He turned around and stepped out of the tent, and was met with the young elf standing not three feet from him. It was obvious he had been weeping but he was trying to keep himself composed now as he stood before Elrond. "I have done all that I can for him." Elrond began.

"I want to see him." Legolas stated flatly. If Elrond was done, he wanted, -no, needed- to see his father.

Nodding in understanding, Elrond sighed and took Legolas by the shoulder, leading him a few feet further away from the tent where the young elf's father lay. "And you will, but I must warn you first. The damage done by the dragonfire is extensive, Legolas. Your father has been scarred by that fell beast. He has lost the sight in his left eye, and he will never fully mend."

Legolas felt as if his world was spinning. Blinded in one eye? Scarred? Unable to fully recover from these wounds? Short of his father either being alive or having passed into the Halls of Mandos, this was not the news Legolas had been preparing himself for. Elrond could see the younger elf was about to drop where he stood at the news, and he sat Legolas down before he fell and caused hurt to himself.

Kneeling in front of Legolas, the raven haired elf gripped Legolas' hands in his own and looked him in the eyes. "Listen to me Legolas. I will not lie to you. He may yet still die. He needs your strength and love to remind him why he must stay living. I will let you go and sit with him, but you must not touch his left side. Understood?" He searched the younger elf's face for any signs he should not yet let him see his father, but saw only determination.

"Henion, Elrond. Iesten, let me see my father." He looked down at Elrond, silently begging to see his father.

Knowing that Legolas understood the full weight of the situation, Elrond stood and helped Legolas to his feet as well. He motioned toward the tent with a wave of his hand. "There is a chair you may use already in there. Legolas," He warned as the elf was moving around him to enter the tent. When Legolas paused and looked over his shoulder, Elrond said, "Steel yourself for what you are about to see. It will not help your father to see you dismayed at how bad the wounds appear."

"Le hannon." Was all Legolas said before entering the tent, leaving Elrond alone.

Glorfindel seemed to appear out of no where as he stepped up beside Elrond. "Will he be all right?" He asked, glancing at the half-elf healer. Which 'he' Glorfindel was referring to did not seem to matter, because Glorfindel and Elrond were both concerned for the welfare of both father and son.

"I do not know, mellon nín. I do not know." Was all Elrond could say in return.

Inside the tent, the strong scent of burned hair and flesh, athelas and aloe vera leaves, and death was ripe. It made Legolas' stomach flip, knowing the smell was surrounding his father. Swallowing hard, he slowly and quietly approached the bed where his father lay still on his right side. Keen elven eyes were not needed to see the spasms that continued even now to wrack the elf with pain.

And keen elven ears were not needed to hear the sharp intake of breath or hiss of pain each time a spasm occurred.

Legolas stood and stared at his father's back, realizing with dismay how the natural glow all elves give off was so dimmed in comparison to how it normally looked. In fact Legolas could hardly see his father's natural glow. His heart sank with the implications as to what that meant. "Ada..." He whispered, and the jerk of the body on bed before him said that his father was alert.

He quickly circled the bed until he was brought to see his father's face, and his heart leapt into his throat at the sight. A cloth lay over the left half of his face, covering every bit of it, but the seeping wound underneath showed through, the disfiguring shapes beneath the cloth clear as day as said cloth soaked up the fluids that seeped through from the melted away skin.

He tried not to look solely at his father's wounds, though he could not stop himself from glancing down the length of his father's body. Though Elrond and Glorfindel had worked quickly, they had wrapped the wounds skillfully with deft hands. He reminded himself he would be forever in their debt if his father survived.

Turning his gaze onto his father's face once more, he met the older elf's eyes. Or rather, eye, as his left eye was covered by the cloth. He pulled the chair up as close as he dared and sat down, taking his father's right hand between his own. "Ada... It is me. It is your Greenleaf." He whispered softly.

For a moment it looked as if Thranduil did not recognize him as he stared at his son. His eye was unfocused at first, like he was looking but not seeing, but his eye sharpened at the sound of Legolas' voice and he looked at his son and truly seen him now. "Ion nín..." He squeezed Legolas' hand, silently thankful for the contact.

Relief that his father recognized him and was indeed awake and alive, Legolas breathed a heavy sigh and nodded. Reaching with one of his hands he began to stroke his father's white golden hair, much like Elrond and Glorfindel had done, and kept a firm hold on his father's hand with his other. "I am here, Ada. I came as soon as I received word from Gil-galad." He said, doing all he could to keep the raw emotions he felt out of his voice.

It was not truly working.

"Guren linna a chened le, Legolas. But I fear I may not survive this.. I am...so very weary." Thranduil's voice sounded far away, and his eye began to get unfocused again.

It was obvious to Legolas his father was struggling to stay awake. "Ada, you must rest. You cannot heal if you do not rest." He said, not wanting to see his father in pain anymore. If he rested, his elven healing ability could begin to mend his body, and he would be relieved of pain for a little while.

The older elf's eye sharpened again and he focused on his son. It took a lot for Thranduil to admit to having fear, but he feared if he fell into a sleep, even a healing sleep, he would never again wake back up. Not when he knew of the ruin the dragonfire had left his body in. His mind would flee from this ruined body, and with it his very spirit to leave his body to die.

Looking at Legolas, whom had not taken his eyes off his father, Thranduil tightened his grip on his son's hand. "I fear I cannot sleep. If I fall into that oblivion, I may not be able to return to you, ion nín..."

A look of fear flashed across Legolas' face. He quickly shook his head and took his father's hand into both of his again, squeezing the older elf's hand firmly. "You would not leave me alone, would you Ada? I know you can survive this. You are so much stronger than many other Eldar I know."

"Goheno nin, ion nín...but I do not know if I can summon the strength needed of me this time." Thranduil wanted to close his eyes and rest them, but knew the darkness would swallow him if he did, so he forced them to stay open, even as he could not focus on Legolas' face just mere inches from his own anymore.

Legolas was squeezing his father's hand so tightly, his own knuckles began to whiten from the strain like they had earlier. "I cannot bear to face this evil without you, Ada. I am not yet strong enough to do so without your strength to guide me." He looked at Thranduil, silently begging the older elf to stay with him. "If you leave me now, I will follow you to the Halls of Mandos."

Thranduil looked alarmed, but before he could say a word Legolas continued. "I am not afraid of death, Ada. I am afraid of living an eternity alone. I could pass in peace, knowing that you, and Naneth, and all our fallen kin are there waiting for me. We would be away from this evil at last. I cannot bear this life without you in it."

Eye focused and sharp and his heart pounding in his chest, Thranduil clutched Legolas' hands in his. "You are too young to pass into the Halls of Mandos. You have not yet lived a true life. Do not say such things. Iesten, my little Greenleaf."

"Then you must not succumb to these wounds!" Legolas said sharply, a tone that most would have thought was that of his father's. His voice softened as he then said, "Iesten, Ada... Le melin. Do not leave me." He leaned over, pulling his father's hand up to his face and leaning his cheek against it as he let his eyes slip closed.

Thranduil stared at Legolas for several moments, not bothering to try and pull his hand back. He knew Legolas spoke the truth when he said he would die if Thranduil could not survive these wounds. "I do not know if I will wake again if I try to rest..." He admitted once more.

"If I feel you are leaving me, I will do all I can to waken you. I will stay with you as you enter the healing sleep you need to mend. I will not leave your side." Legolas said, looking at Thranduil again and squeezing his hand gently.

As painful as it was, the Sinda forced a smile to grace his face. "Le hannon, ion nín." He closed his eyes and sighed, and it seemed as he exhaled the last of his will and determination to stay awake left him. He had no more strength to fight the oblivion that was calling him. "Le melin.." Was the last thing he could manage to say before he was swallowed by the looming darkness. He trusted his son would not leave his side as he rested. Perhaps he could take light in that.

Perhaps he could find it in himself to mend from the devastating dragonfire.

Legolas' breath caught in his throat, but he felt the older elf was not leaving him. He let out his breath slowly when he still saw the movement of his father's chest. He was still alive. He would survive these wounds, Legolas was sure of it. His father was too strong, too great to be taken from Arda so soon.

Still, Legolas refused to let go of his father's hand. He would keep his word and stay put while his father rested, and wake him if he felt that he was leaving him. At this moment in time, no one else needed him more. "Hodo vae, Ada."

xoxo

Legolas had only left his father's side when Elrond and Glorfindel were present and needed to clean the wounds again and rewrap them. When it was time, Legolas would be the first to wake Thranduil, tell him what was going to happen and let him know he would be near; always.

But he could not bring himself to be present and witness what Elrond had to do. He could not be present when his father began screaming in agony as they had to unwrap, clean, and then wrap his wounds again. It never got easier for Elrond or Glorfindel, but they knew they must do it in order to keep the Sinda alive.

And he began to mend.

Slowly, as days continued to pass, the Eldar was mending. First the more minor burns healed completely, leaving no scars. Though Elrond was happy to see this progress, he still carried a great burden on his shoulders. As many lives as Elrond managed to save from the dragonfire, many more were lost to the fell beast before Gil-galad and the men and elves of the Last Alliance managed to bring the beast down.

Gil-galad sat in the camp, nursing a wound he had received during that awful fight. Elrond had attempted to help, but he brushed the healer off as it was nothing more than a gash, and Gil-galad could well mend a simple gash. There were far more others that needed the skilled half-elf's aid.

Such as Thranduil did this moment. Gil-galad cringed at the sound of a strangled, pained cry coming from Thranduil's tent. He knew cleaning the wounds and keeping them wrapped in fresh cloth was a must, but he felt for the Sinda, having to suffer such pain just to live another day. He glanced up as he seen someone stepping out of the tent.

Legolas had attempted on a few occasions to stay, but his heart could not bear it so he quickly disappeared into the camp away from his father's pained screams. Gil-galad waved at the younger elf to get his attention. "Legolas, come here for a moment." He called, smiling slightly at the younger elf.

The woodland elf glanced at Gil-galad and he stepped over to the dark haired elf. "Hîr nín. Manen le?" He asked, kneeling in front of the elven king and warrior.

"Well enough, mellon nín. Le hannon. But can you do me a favor? I need some athelas for this gash." As if he needed to confirm, he motioned to the gash running down his arm. He grinned ruefully at the other elf. "I do not want Elrond to be distracted from tending to your father, and he has already tried fretting over me like I am some elfling." He laughed quietly.

Legolas' smile was half hearted at best, but he tried in consideration for the older elf. "I will get some athelas for you." He stood and made his way through the camp. He purposely found a different tent with some spare athelas, knowing full well Elrond had plenty at his disposal in his father's tent. He just could not bear to look upon his ailing father in the state he was in.

Gil-galad watched Legolas leave. In truth he could have easily gotten the athelas himself, but he hoped it would help get Legolas' mind off of the sounds coming from his father's tent. He looked at the wound and picked at the cloth of his torn sleeve, peeling it away from the lesion. He had not heard the younger elf approach until the Wood-elf was again kneeling before him.

Legolas sat a bowl, some athelas, and some clean cloths down before he took ahold of Gil-galad's arm, beginning to clean the area. "Let me. You have done enough. This is the least I can do for what you have done. You saved my father. I have not yet had a chance in thanking you personally. Le hannon, hîr nín." He glanced at the older elf and nodded his head.

"I only did what any other would do for an ally. Your father will survive." Gil-galad motioned with his free hand around the camp. "When this war is over and Sauron is defeated, and mark my words we will defeat him, you and your father will return again to Greenwood the Great. He will be crowned king then." He looked to Legolas with a gentle smile.

"Eryn Galen... Long have I missed it since this war has begun. Do you truly believe we will win?" He glanced up at the dark haired elf as he began wrapping the wound once he was done applying the athelas.

Gil-galad nodded. "Indeed I do. I have faith in both elves and men. Sauron will not win. He does not have the strength that binds us as friends and comrades in arms. Light will always shine through the darkness, Legolas. Do not lose hope. Ias i guil, mas i estel." He reached over and gripped Legolas' shoulder with his good hand, a smile gracing his face.

He then glanced up as Glorfindel stepped up behind them, nodding to his lieutenant then. "Legolas, we are done tending to your father's wounds. You may go and be with him. He is still awake, although not for long. He still needs to rest so that he may finish healing." He gripped Legolas' other shoulder and gave a squeeze before looking to Gil-galad.

Nodding, the younger elf stood and looked at the dark haired elf's arm. "Le hannon. For everything, hîr nín." He looked to Gil-galad, and his smile was not so forced as it had been earlier. Gil-galad's plan had worked, Legolas had put his father's pained sounds out of his mind while tending to and speaking with the other elf until Elrond had finished.

He turned and nodded to Glorfindel then made his way toward the tent as Elrond left and began making his way to the other wounded in the camp. They exchanged a nod and a weary smile as Legolas passed him.

Glorfindel turned to Gil-galad and picked up the bowl Legolas had left. "If I am not mistaken, your legs are not wounded." He raised a brow and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Hmm?" He grinned a bit and Glorfindel just rolled his eyes at the dark haired elf. They both shared a smile, knowing what Gil-galad had done for the young Wood-elf.

TBC

A/N: Whoop! I'm still pretty proud about this story, as short as it is. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so don't forget to leave a little review. Reviews = Happy encouragement. ;)

If my Sindarin is wrong, do not be rude about it. Please either politely correct me, or kindly tell me what does not exist and I will replace it with English/edit the scene. Thanks

• Mellon nín: "My friend"

• Goheno nin: "Forgive me"

• Mellon: "Friend"

• Le hannon: "Thank you"

• Henion: "I understand"

• Iesten: "Please"

• Ada: "Dad/Daddy"

• Ion nín: "My son"

• Guren linna a chened le: "My heart sings to see you"

• Naneth: "Mother"

• Le melin: "I love you"

• Hodo vae: "Rest well"

• Hîr nín: "My lord"

• Manen le?: "How are you?"

• Eryn Galen: "Greenwood the Great"

• Ias i guil, mas i estel: "While there's life there's hope"