AN: I'd like to say thank you to everyone who said you liked my OC's...I made that comment on the last chapter because I've read several stories that became somewhat OC-centric and were just tiresome to read. Then again, I am paranoid...
Review Responses are up. The link is on my profile.
Chapter Six: Reunion
Thranduil was startled out of his thoughts when the door to his wife's garden suddenly burst open and one of the captains flew in unannounced.
"My King," Brithdil said, kneeling, slightly out of breath. "Been looking—pardon my intrusion but we found your son."
"Where is he?" the older elf demanded, standing up from the small stone bench.
"Meluial is taking him to the healers. She found him down in one of the lower dungeons. I would have brought you sooner, but I could not find you."
The dungeons? Ai, Legolas, what were you doing down there? "Thank you, Captain," the king nodded, brushing past the other elf. He broke into a rather un-kingly run and was half-aware that Brithdil was following him as he made his way down to the healers. He had retreated to Isáwien's garden—now kept up in her memory—in hopes that being in the place she had loved the most would give him some insight into where Legolas was. But it seemed to have only delayed his reunion with his son.
"Meluial!" he called, rounding the corner and seeing his daughter just exiting the healers'.
The elf-maid whirled about. "Ada!" she shouted happily, throwing her arms about the king. "He's here...we found him!"
"Brithdil told me," Thranduil said, gently pushing Meluial away. His daughter had been away for some time on patrol, but much as he wanted to see her he knew there was an elfling who needed him more. "Is he all right?"
Meluial sobered. "Luinlothiel's in there with him...he's hurt and scared, but I think that's all."
Ignoring the dirt and cobwebs that clung to his daughter, Thranduil gently kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you," he whispered. "Captain Brithdil," he nodded to the guard.
"Ada," Meluial grabbed his sleeve. "Just...be careful."
"Careful?" Thranduil raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You'll see," she replied sadly.
The king frowned, but pushed open the door undeterred. He easily spotted the healers and his eldest daughter clustered around one of the beds, focusing on its small occupant.
"Luinlothiel?" Thranduil called softly.
The she-elf looked up, relief etched on her fair features. "Ada," she sighed. "I told you he'd come," she whispered to the elfling in the bed beside her.
Thranduil knelt beside his daughter, his heart nearly breaking at the pitiful sight before him as any remote thought of mentioning his son's disobedience fled his mind when he saw the state the elfling was in. Legolas had obviously been bathed to remove the dirt from his imprisonment, and Thranduil could see clearly a pair of bruises on his son's face, one on his chin that was mingled with scratches and one near his ear. Legolas' left arm was bound up in a sling, and the head healer, Celebalqua, was busily tending to his right hand. But it was the pain and fear in his son's eyes that affected Thranduil the most...pain and fear that went beyond his physical injuries.
"How is he?" the king quietly asked.
"The break in his arm should mend easily," Celebalqua replied, gently laying the injured hand on the bed to mix a few herbs together. "He scraped up one knee and his chin, too...looks like he took a fall in the dungeons. The bite concerns me, though..."
"Bite?" Thranduil asked, scooting over as Luinlothiel stood up to put an arm around his son, careful to mind the broken arm.
"He said it was a rat," the healer replied. "I don't know what the rat had been eating, but it looks as though an infection might be setting in."
Thranduil sighed, gently resting his head against Legolas'. "What happened to you, Elfling?" he asked gently.
The young elf sniffed, shaking his head and half-turning to bury his face against his father.
"He hasn't said a word since Meluial brought him in, except to tell me about the rat," Celebalqua said quietly, carefully smoothing an herbal mixture against the bite wound in the prince's hand, wincing in sympathy as he whimpered in pain. "Give him time," she added encouragingly, wrapping a length of clean bandage around the elfling's hand.
"Ada," Luinlothiel gently touched her father's shoulder. "I will tell Aranion to take over the court for you tomorrow so you can stay here," she offered.
The king nodded in agreement, knowing the crown prince could well handle matters of the court. "Oh, Legolas," Thranduil sighed, gently stroking his son's head. "What happened to you?"
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"My Lord?"
Startled awake, Thranduil looked around for a moment, unsure of where he was.
"Please, excuse me."
His gaze focused on a contrite-looking blonde elf standing some distance away. "Amarthwen," he said coolly in greeting, wincing as suddenly-stiff muscles reminded him he had fallen asleep kneeling next to his son's bed. "Did you need something?" He knew he sounded a bit short, but if the nurse had come in hopes of getting her charge back she had the wrong impression. Thranduil wasn't about to let Legolas out of his sight just yet.
"I just wanted to see for myself that he was all right," she explained, taking another step toward the bed.
Thranduil snorted inwardly. He did not believe that Amarthwen had meant to do anything wrong, but she had been grossly negligent in her duties. Had she aided in the search rather than locking herself in her chambers and spending the day weeping he would have felt differently...as it was he was beginning to doubt her abilities to care for his son.
"He will be fine," the king said, a bit sharply. He was somewhat pleased when the nurse flinched and looked down.
"I offer my apologies, My Lord," the she-elf replied.
Thranduil nodded, ever-so-slightly, turning his gaze back to his sleeping son. Celebalqua had given the elfling a tea to help him sleep, and the king fervently hoped his son would be safe from nightmares for at least this night.
"I will have to consider your future employment, Amarthwen," he said smoothly. "I do not take lightly what happened to my son, nor your part in it."
The nurse looked up, shocked. "My part? I did nothing!"
"Did you?" Thranduil asked coolly. "Why did you not come to me the moment you could not find him?"
"I didn't want to interrupt—"
"Do you think my family matters so little to me that I would have begrudged such an interruption?"
Amarthwen looked down, ashamed.
"You did nothing, Amarthwen," Thranduil continued. "That is exactly why I have come to doubt your abilities in caring for my son."
The nurse's cheeks flushed in shame, and she kept her gaze fastened on the floor so Thranduil could not see her eyes. "I apologize," she repeated softly. "I will understand if you wish to banish me."
The king softened a bit. "I would not banish you," he replied. "But I do not know if I can entrust my son to you again."
Amarthwen nodded. "I understand." She looked back up, tears shimmering in her pale blue eyes. "Please convey my apologies to your son...and tell him—" her breath hitched as though she was holding in a sob. "Tell him to remember what I told him?"
Thranduil's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "What did you tell him?"
A tear stole down the nurse's pale face. "That nothing he could do could make me care any less for him. Just...just tell him to remember."
The king nodded. "I'll do that," he said quietly, gently resting his head against his son's as the nurse left.
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It was dark. Too dark. And far too warm. Legolas fought against whatever restrained him, a strangled sob breaking through his throat as he tried to battle the darkness.
He cried out as white-hot pain shot up his left arm, and a restraining hand landed on his shoulder, holding him down, forcing him to stay in the darkness.
"Ada!" he called, reaching for the voice that had softly sung him to sleep. "ADA!"
"Shh, I am here," a cool hand touched his forehead. "Wake, Little One, I am here."
Slowly, there came a glimmer of light...but it seemed so far away! Ada was calling him, and he struggled toward the light, frustrated at the darkness that was weighing him down.
"Why can't he wake up?" he heard Ada say, though the older elf's voice was strangely distant.
"It's the sedative," another voice replied—it sounded like one of the healers. "It must still be working."
He heard a heavy sigh, and the hand on his forehead slid away. "I am here," Ada said again, and Legolas could feel him pressing against his forehead.
He fought again, forcing his eyes to open—a strange sensation as he couldn't quite remember ever sleeping with closed eyes before. Just for a moment darkness seemed to obscure his vision, then resolved itself into a golden cloud and a faintly-lit room.
"My Lord?" the healer's voice called softly. "I think he's waking up."
The golden cloud shifted out of sight, and Legolas was overjoyed to see Ada's face leaning worriedly over him. "Legolas?" Ada asked softly, placing one hand against the elfling's face.
Legolas sniffed and leaned his head against the king's hand. "Ada," he whispered, his voice broken.
The older elf's face split into a large smile. "I have waited so long to hear your voice, Legolas," he said.
"I'll wake Celebalqua," the healer offered. "She might want to examine him now that he's awake."
The king waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Did you have a nightmare?" he asked gently.
Legolas nodded, tears filling his eyes.
"What was it about?"
The elfling's eyes widened, his nurse's words echoing in his mind. "But if you do tell there won't be enough left of you for the orcs to find...I'll kill you myself." He shook his head frantically.
Thranduil frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"N-no," Legolas stuttered, biting his lip to keep it from trembling.
The king nodded. "You don't want to talk about it?"
Legolas shook his head, his gaze dropping.
He heard his father sigh, and looked up to meet the older elf's sad eyes. The king gently stroked his hair—the way Nana used to do, the way Luni sometimes did when he couldn't sleep. "I wish you would tell me about it."
The elfling sniffed back another tear. He didn't like making Ada sad, but he didn't want to make Amarthwen angry.
"Maybe in the morning," Thranduil suggested. "It's very late, and I have to speak with Amarthwen tomorrow."
Eyes wide in fear, Legolas looked up at his father.
Misinterpreting his fear, Thranduil smiled kindly. "After what she said I have decided not to release her, though she will not be taking up her responsibilities for some time, until you are recovered."
Legolas swallowed, his heart pounding. "W-wh," he tried to ask, his mouth dry with fear.
"She asked me to tell you to remember what she said," Ada replied, "that nothing you could ever do could make her care for you any less."
The prince squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, his stomach suddenly twisting in terror. He felt his father place a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he suddenly shuddered with fear. Did this mean Amarthwen had told Ada everything? Did he agree with what she did?
He remembered that Amarthwen had said Ada locked bad elflings down in the dungeons...was that why he hadn't stopped her?
"Legolas?" his father asked in concern, but Legolas couldn't answer. Tears slid down his cheeks as Thranduil gently turned his head back. "Oh, Little One," the king sighed, and gently pulled his son into an embrace, careful of his injuries.
Legolas buried his face in his father's shoulder, his mind a whirl of confusing emotions and memories. "Why d-didn't you come?" he whispered.
He felt his father sigh deeply. "I didn't know where you were. We searched the forest for you...even all the way to the village. I would have come immediately if I had known you were down there."
The elfling sniffed, and at least a little part of the turbulence in his mind lessened.
"Now, go back to sleep," Thranduil said gently. "I'll stay right here with you, all night."
Legolas nodded, opening his eyes enough to look up at his father, though he couldn't quite smile.
"Go back to sleep," the king repeated, laying a hand on the elfling's forehead.
The last thing Legolas saw before he drifted back to sleep was his father's smiling face, watching over him.
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