Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Summary: After receiving a cryptic message from Mirkwood, Lord Elrond hurries to the aid of the realm's troubled Crown Prince and discovers that things now are so very different for both of them.

Warning: This story is about a romantic relationship between the two main characters – Elrond and Legolas. It concentrates almost solely on the friendship and comfort side of the relationship and there are no explicit scenes or anything that could really be described as slash. However, if you really don't like that kind of thing then please don't read.

A/N: So sorry to anyone who read this before chapter 9. I hope it hasn't completely ruined the story for you.

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As You Were

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Chapter 10

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All Thranduil could tell at first was that his head hurt, pounded relentlessly in fact. For a while it was all he could focus on. Excruciatingly slowly, awareness started to return. He was laid down on his own soft mattress and was covered in warm blankets and apart from his pounding head and a slight aching all over his body, he felt fine and very well rested. What did worry him a little was that he had no memory of why he was feeling like this or why he found himself unable to open his eyes or easily move his body.

Just as panic started to rise in his chest he heard voices, annoyingly muffled by the throbbing in his head. They didn't seem familiar to him but he couldn't be sure. Now with something to focus on, Thranduil felt the panic starting to ease. He tried to make out some individual words.

"I…know," a voice said harshly then Thranduil heard footsteps walking around him.

"…about Elrond?" another voice asked.

This only confused Thranduil further. He couldn't remember Elrond recently coming to Mirkwood. Unless he was actually in Rivendell, which didn't make any sense because he was sure he had no business in Imladris and this certainly felt like home.

"Elrond's not here…nothing we can do," the first voice said softly.

"We should try to get him."

"No!" the other voice hissed in what Thranduil interpreted to be annoyance.

"Then we should find the drug."

'Drug?' Thranduil wondered. Why would they need drugs?

"Right, and overdose the king. That would make us popular with the prince."

'The prince'. Those words really stood out in Thranduil's mind. Apparently his son was still with him. So maybe he was in Rivendell after all; that was where his son preferred to be – or at least had preferred at one time. Then something had happened to stop him going but Thranduil couldn't quite recall what at that moment. This was getting more and more frustrating. If only he could open his eyes then he might be able to identify where he was. Once again he tried and failed to open his eyes and moaned in frustration. He must have made some noise as the voices ceased and Thranduil felt someone taking his hand.

"Your Majesty?" the calmer of the two voices called.

"He's waking up," the other person exclaimed.

"Shh," the first hissed. "Your Majesty, can you hear me?"

"Legolas," the king managed to croak out and he inwardly flinched when he realised how dry and scratchy his throat was.

The two people in the room with him must have heard thought as there was a brief, hurried and hushed argument above him as they seemingly debated how to answer, which worried the king greatly. Finally though one of them answered, "Prince Legolas is not here right now, Sire. He is…out at the moment."

"Out?" the other voice hissed in disbelief and Thranduil had to echo the sentiment. He didn't like vague comments concerning his only child.

The annoyingly vague response at least prompted Thranduil to renew his efforts to open his eyes and after a seemingly enormous struggle he managed to force them open, only to quickly let them fall closed again when bright light stung his eyes, making him wince.

"Shut the drapes," the calmer voice commanded to the other person. Thranduil heard hurried steps across carpeted floor then the sharp swish of fabric. "Try again, Your Majesty."

Listening to the instruction, Thranduil slowly forced his eyes open again, relieved to find the room significantly dimmer and thus more comfortable. Everything was distorted and blurry at first and he couldn't really make anything out. Two faces were hovering over him but they too were indistinguishable. Now that he could see though he realised that as well as aching, his head was also spinning dizzily. He swallowed back the nausea that came with this and blinked to clear his eyes.

It took a while but eventually the dizziness subsided and he started to be able to see more clearly. The previously blurry faces came fully into focus but Thranduil was disappointed that he still didn't recognise either of them. Very slowly and cautiously, he turned his head to the side, resulting in a brief attack of dizziness, and looked around himself. At least he was able to determine where he was – definitely Mirkwood and in his own room, except the place looked slightly different. His bedside table was bare but the rest of the room seemed unusually messy. The couch under the window looked as thought it had been converted into someone's bed, messily strewn with cushions and blankets. The room was relatively dark but it was clearly daylight outside although Thranduil couldn't determine the exact time as he would normally have been able to do. If only he could remember what had happened because this was definitely not normal – the king did not stay in bed during daylight hours. And he got the impression that he had been in this bed for a while, although the sheets and the clothes he wore felt fresh.

"Your Majesty?" one of the strangers at his bedside asked in concern and slowly the king turned his head to look at the one who spoke. "Can you hear me, sire?"

When Thranduil didn't immediately respond – it was taking more time than usual to process everything going on around him – the more panicked voice suggested, "Maybe he's in shock. He needs a healer."

"There isn't a healer," the first one hissed in irritation.

Wondering why he would need a healer and why there wasn't one to come to attend the king, Thranduil croaked out, "What…?" Damn, this confusing was frustrating.

"Just relax, Your Majesty."

"He doesn't remember," the panicked voice exclaimed.

"Shut up and just give him a minute." Thranduil almost smiled at this direction as he concurred completely with it. The continually pessimistic voice was beginning to grate on his already frayed nerves. "My Lord?" Thranduil wondered if he had actually smiled; he couldn't really tell, his head seemed so disconnected with the rest of his weak, unresponsive body.

"What…?" Thranduil tried again with no more success than last time. Sense was slowly returning to him and logic told him it would be best to quash his impatience and just wait until he felt able to move and speak properly. He let all the sights and sounds wash over him until they became more distinct. He wriggled his fingers and toes and then tried his arms. It seemed that his body, although feeling heavy and achy, was uninjured as he couldn't feel any real pain anywhere. His chest was a little sore but that didn't seem severe enough to restrict him to bed. Finally, he felt ready to speak properly and he cleared his dry throat before asking, "What is going on?"

"Thank the Valar you're all right," that panicky voice shouted.

"Volume," Thranduil prompted, wincing as the shout made his head pound even more.

"You'll have to forgive him, Your Majesty," the more rational and calm Elf said in a quieter voice. "We are just so relieved that you are all right." Thranduil nodded and the Elf, who Thranduil still didn't recognise, said, "Do you remember what happened, sire?"

"No," the king confessed.

"Mirkwood has been taken over by Men, sir."

"Men?" Thranduil repeated in confusion but the Elf's words did jog a memory. The Men. Legolas had brought them into the palace. They had a staff – dark, powerful magic they used to put a spell on Mirkwood's inhabitants. Legolas had stabbed him. No, surely he was remembering that incorrectly. Why would his own son stab him? Was that why he was here? Surely he should be dead, not asleep. "How long have I been here?" he asked, still trying to work this all out in his still sluggish mind.

The two Elves looked at each other, trying to decide whether to tell the truth. They could hardly lie to their king though so the calmer of the two replied, "About three months."

"Three months?" Thranduil exclaimed in shock. He had thought maybe a couple of days, not months. Still stunned by this, Thranduil struggled to sit up, blinking back the dizziness. Two sets of hands were instantly helping him but once he was sat upright he shrugged them off. "Three months? Why?"

"Lord Elrond mentioned that Prince Legolas kept you…drugged, sire."

"Drugged? Wait, Elrond is here?"

"Yes, sir. Prince Legolas sent for him a couple of weeks ago, I think. We have been locked in the dungeons for…"

"The dungeons? How are you…? How did you escape?"

"Lord Elrond set us free."

At this, Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief and rested back against the headboard. "Then it is all over."

Again, the Elves glanced at one another before the calmer one answered, "Not exactly, my Lord. Prince Legolas and Lord Elrond are, we presume, still in the Throne Room. Lord Elrond took the rest of those able to fight to go and rescue the prince."

"Why would the prince need rescuing?" Thranduil demanded abruptly.

"The Men took him. Lord Elrond said they had held him in a cage in the Throne Room," the sharper voice blurted out without even thinking.

For a moment, Thranduil stared at him in horror then shoved the bedsheets away, shifting towards the edge of the bed. The more rational Elf exclaimed, "Your Majesty, you cannot get up!"

"Why not?" Thranduil snapped, snatching his arm away from the Elf's hand.

"Because Lord Elrond will kill us," the nervous Elf said.

More calmly – and sensibly – the other Elf clarified, "Because you haven't moved in three months, sire. You cannot just hop out of bed and start wandering around."

"I don't plan to 'wander', I'm going to get my son," Thranduil told him sternly.

"With all due respect, Lord Elrond and fifty guards could not liberate Mirkwood. How are just the three of us supposed to succeed?"

"How long has it been?"

The guard considered this for a moment then answered, "Twenty hours or so."

"Any attack will have happened very quickly and if they kept any other Elves alive they would probably have locked them up again. Where would they take them?"

"Probably back down to the dungeons, Your Majesty," the jittery guard answered, suddenly excited about getting out of this room and actually doing something.

"Dungeons. Of course."

"Wait, sire, please. You can't be thinking of taking those Men on," the more sensible Elf said in disbelief.

"What other choice do we have?" his companion asked almost excitedly. It has been almost a whole day. The original plan has failed." The sensible Elf shook his head but before he could put forward his argument, his companion interrupted. "Besides, we have the king with us now."

"Right, and what good is a king who can't even stand up?"

"Thank you for your vote of confidence," Thranduil muttered. He then extended his hand towards the taller, more cautious Elf and said, "I don't believe we've met."

Taking the proffered hand and shaking it without hesitation, the more excitable Elf said, "I am Serran and that is Corbane. We're with the Guard."

"Excellent," Thranduil said, withdrawing his hand from the enthusiastic guard. "Now, Serran, can you fetch me some water, please?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." He rushed off to do as instructed.

Whilst he was distracted, Thranduil attempted to stand up. Predictably, his first try failed and he had to wait for a moment for the dizziness to pass. His legs felt weak beneath him and his head spun and pounded. But he knew he had to do this. His child was in trouble and he had to help him. That spurred him on and, although a little wobbly, he managed to get to his feet and stay there even if he did have to lean on Corbane to remain upright.

"All right," he said, taking the glass of water from Serran and downing it in one. "I need clothes." The excitable guard ran to the closet and picked out exquisite robes. "Perhaps something a little more practical," the king smiled. Serran then returned with a tunic and pair of leggings. "That's better, thank you." He took a shaky step forward, pleased that he didn't fall flat on his face. "Wait here," he told the two guards.

"Can you manage, sir?" Serran asked in concern.

"Yes." Even though he was not entirely certain of this, Thranduil wasn't about to let two people he barely knew watch him change. Once in the bathroom, he took a moment to regain his breath before going to the basin and looking at his reflection in the mirror and was surprised by what he saw. He was thinner than normal, his face pale and his eyes had dark smudges underneath them even though he had been asleep all this time. His clothes were wrinkled but clean and he wondered who had changed him but his hair was extremely messy. Not that any of this mattered right then. There were more important things to worry about than his appearance.

When he returned to the bedroom he was fully dressed and at least looking a little more respectable. The two guards were stood waiting for him and the moment he appeared Serran rushed forward and asked, "So, what is the plan, Your Majesty?"

"Give him a moment," Corbane hissed.

But Thranduil had it all worked out and he answered without hesitation, "First we head for the dungeons. If there are more free people there then we'll need their assistance. Then we go to the Throne Room, get that staff from those Men and end this for once and for all."

"Yes!" Serran agreed. "Brilliant plan, my Lord."

"Wait, we don't have any weapons," Corbane reminded them both.

"Not a problem," Thranduil told them, stiffly walking to the closet, stepping inside and pulling back the hanging clothes to reveal a hidden door. He pulled it open and dragged out a heavy wooden chest. When he flipped the lid back, the two guards saw a collection of weapons; the king had a small arsenal in his closet. Picking out a range of daggers, Thranduil handed some to the guards and kept a couple for himself. "Thank goodness my son is so wildly overprotective and insists upon an emergency kit," Thranduil muttered to himself as he stood up. He recalled arguing for hours with his son over this but of course Legolas had won him over and he now was immensely grateful that his son was so strong-willed and that he had eventually given in. "Right, now let's go."

"Be on the look out for any Elves, my Lord, most are under the control of the humans," the more experienced guard warned his king as they went to the front door. Almost instinctively, the two guards separated, one going in front of their monarch whilst the other, Serran, went behind him, protecting the king as they were trained to do.

Surprisingly, the corridors were clear and they made reasonable progress. The only thing that made progress a little slow was their king. His legs were still weak and he limped down the corridors, trying to keep his pace up. He knew they really needed to hurry but after three months of inactivity, his body was still stiff and sore making it very difficult to move with any ease. Thankfully, the guards seemed to realise this and matched their own strides with the king's.

They reached the dungeons without incident and the two guards easily overpowered the two Elves stood outside the dungeon door. With the keys in hand, they proceeded down the stairs and quickly released – for the second time – the startled trapped Elves. After hastily explaining to the stunned captain the plan, all the Elves left the cells and once more made their way up to the Throne Room.

Before they reached the corridor, Thranduil told them, "Don't engage until I give the order." Nods of understanding went around the group and they crept onwards. When they reached the doors, Thranduil risked a peek inside and although shocked by what he saw remained calm, knowing exactly what he had to do. This would require courage and precision but he was surprisingly confident. He had to do this for his son. Legolas needed him and his kingdom needed him, that was all the motivation he needed.

Indicating for his group of guards that it was time, Thranduil threw the double doors open, hoping for the element of surprise. And he certainly achieved that. As the King of Mirkwood, flanked by the very Elves that had already been caught once that day, burst into the hall the now mostly intoxicated Men stood staring open-mouthed. Even their leader was too stunned to move. He stared at the king even as the free guards rushed into the room. Both Elrond, who was sitting in the far corner and Legolas who was stuck in his cage, looked up when the doors opened. Elrond got to his feet ready to fight beside the Mirkwood guards and the prince called his father's name in distress. The king didn't even glance at him, already facing off with the leader of the Men.

The Man held his hand up to halt his scrambling companions and Thranduil did the same with the Elves. There was a long, tense silence as the two leaders eyed each other up. Rather predictably, it was the Man who broke the silence first.

"Well, well, Thranduil, you look good for someone in a coma and at death's door," the man said with a smile.

"Thank you," the king replied flatly, wishing his voice sounded a little less croaky.

"We thought you were lost to us. Even the wondrous Lord Elrond could not figure out how to rouse you. I think perhaps he succeeded after all," the man said, his eyes flicking to Elrond.

"No, actually, I woke myself."

"Really?" Thranduil nodded, giving the man time to figure it out for himself. When he did, a smile crossed his face, which then transformed into a laugh as he looked over to Legolas. "Well, aren't you a clever little liar? What did you do, act it all out?"

"Drugs," Legolas answered calmly from his cramped cage. "Sedatives."

"Smart."

"Thank you," the prince rasped.

"But now I think it's time to stop with the games. They are starting to get dull, don't you think?"

"Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy this next one," Thranduil smiled.

"Which one would that be?"

"The one where I take back my kingdom then kick you out of it. Or perhaps I'll turn you over to Gondor; I suspect they have some interest in you. You are criminals, are you not? I mean, no way are you smart enough to actually find something that valuable and precious," he said, gesturing to the golden rod held tightly in the man's hand. "You have to have stolen it." The man smiled thinly, clearly insulted but trying to hide it. "You know what that makes you?"

"A thief?" one of the drunken Men offered around a laugh.

"A coward," Thranduil corrected pointedly.

The man bristled at the insult but lifted the staff up threateningly. "And yet I am the one with all the power here."

"For now."

"You know I have an entire army at my command; your army, in fact." Thranduil didn't look in the least bit fazed by this. "And what do you have, Thranduil? A handful of pathetic, unarmed Elves?"

"Loyal followers," Captain Cassan put in from behind his king.

"Loyal but foolish."

"They believe in their kingdom, they value their freedom," Thranduil growled.

"And their king? Do they love you, Majesty? Are they willing to die for you?"

"Yes," the captain said immediately and the free Elves nodded sternly in agreement.

"What about your – frankly pathetic – excuse for a prince? Would you die for him?" the Man asked purposefully directing their attention over to the cage to embarrass Legolas and anger Thranduil.

It didn't work though, as Thranduil quietly instructed, "Avert your eyes." They all did immediately. "Give me back my kingdom and you might just get out of this alive," the king added in a low voice, fed up with the banter. Although the man laughed he started to retreat when Thranduil stalked forwards threateningly. He raised the staff but before he had the chance to issue a command, Thranduil was calling to the glassy-eyed guards standing to stiff attention around the walls, "Release my son."

Of course the Elves didn't even blink at the order. Usually they would have been scrambling to obey as fast as possible. "You see, they don't follow your orders anymore, Thranduil."

Thranduil stared into the nearest Elf's eyes for a long moment, much to the humans' amusement, and said in his most severe commanding tone, "Release my son and detain these criminals."

Much to the Man's – and truthfully, Thranduil's – surprise, there was a flicker of recognition in the Elf's eyes. Suddenly, the Man looked panicked and he raised the staff and shouted, "Cease them!" All the Elves around the room remained firm, not moving an inch. "What?" the startled human breathed. "Move! Kill them!" he yelled, waving the staff at them.

"It seems your toy is broken," Thranduil said, stepping closer to the human. "Arrest them," he ordered his free guards and they willingly advanced on the humans who were cowering behind their stunned leader.

The man held the staff up towards the unresponsive Elves and tried once more to command them, shouting, "Kill them!"

"I don't think that yelling is going to make a difference," Thranduil told him dryly.

Turning around, the Man yelled at his human army, "You restrain them!"

The human's naturally hesitated but fearing their leader's wrath they went to stop the free Elven guards. Thranduil gestured for them to take the Men into custody. Two guards grabbed hold of the human leader, restraining him before he could dash out of the door and escape the melee. Although the two sides fought, it was brief as the humans, barely fighters to begin with, were too slow and too drunk to really make any impact on the much fitter Elves. While he was restrained, Thranduil ripped the ruby-topped golden staff from the leader's clinging hands.

"Give that back!" the man yelled, trying to struggle free from his Elves.

"Not so powerful without it, are you?" the king said, rolling the short, heavy object over in his hands. He walked over to the wall and, taking the staff at its end, pulled it back.

"Don't!" the human yelled as Thranduil brought the staff as hard as possible against the wall, smashing with surprising ease the red gem on top. There was a burst of white light and when it had cleared, the Elves under control of the Men were all knelt on the floor, stunned and confused but at last the free-willed. "You…"

"Shut up," the two Elves holding him snapped.

"Take them all down to the dungeons and lock them up," Thranduil commanded to the Elves who had by now restrained all the other humans. The order was instantly obeyed. "The rest of you help them," the king said, nodding towards the Elves on their knees.

Just before the guards could take the leader of the Men out of the crowded Throne Room, Elrond's voice called to Thranduil, "Wait. Thranduil, I need the key to the cage."

The king looked over to where Elrond was crouched by the cage next to his son. Seeing Legolas in that degrading state made anger bubble up in his chest and he demanded his guards, "Search him." The guard stepped forward and roughly patted the annoyed Man down until he found a set of keys in his inside jacket pocket. Once he had the keys to his freedom in his hand, Thranduil growled, "Now get him out of my sight."

As the man was dragged, struggling, from the room, Thranduil joined Elrond at the cage, handing the Lord of Imladris the keys. "Good to see you, Elrond," he said thinly.

"Glad to see you're awake," the Elven Lord returned. "Just one more minute, Legolas." As Thranduil tried keys in the lock, Elrond retrieved a table cloth off of one of the tables to cover the prince up once he was free.

Finally, Thranduil found the right key and swung the cage door open. Immediately, Legolas straightened out his legs painfully, reaching up to snatch the cloth from Elrond's hands to cover himself, intensely aware of the number of people in the hall. Elrond and Thranduil reached down and helped a stiff, shaky Legolas to his feet.

Knowing fully well what the young Elf had endured, Elrond immediately said, "All right, we need to get you to the healing halls now."

Before Elrond could follow on this though, Thranduil had wrapped his son in his arms, holding him tight and Legolas stood contentedly in his embrace. For a moment, Elrond allowed this, giving the family some time to reunite. To Thranduil it must have seemed like only days since he'd last seen his son but to Legolas it had been closer to three months.

After a while, Thranduil pulled back, his eyes raking over his son's body. Legolas looked completely different to the last time he'd seen him.

"You should go with Elrond now. I'll join you as soon as I have all this sorted out," Thranduil told his son with a small smile at the chaos around him.

"Don't you need some help?" the prince asked, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"No, I can handle it."

"Come on, mellon nin, let's get you out of here," Elrond encouraged, laying his hand on Legolas' arm gently.

Even as Elrond guided him around, Legolas said, "They're from Gondor so you'll need to contact the Steward. And there are some Elves in the dungeons."

"I'll fill him in," Elrond assured.

"And the guards Elrond took down…"

"Go, ion nin, I will deal with everything," Thranduil said, sensing Elrond's urgency in taking care of his son even though he didn't know all the details.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive."

Legolas nodded, muttering, "All right." At Elrond's side he only managed a few more limping steps before collapsing against the Elven Lord. Elrond had expected it but had thought Legolas would make it at least out into the hallway before his strength and pride gave out. Fortunately, Elrond managed to catch the prince before he hit the floor.

Thranduil immediately rushed over and asked, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I'll explain on the way," Elrond said, easing Legolas down gently. The king took a second to ensure his son's tenuous modesty before letting the Rivendell Elf lift his child easily into his arms. "Come on."

"I should probably…"

"Thranduil, you have been drugged unconscious for over three months, I want to check you over in the healing halls.

"Very well. And we have a lot to talk about, I think."

To Be Continued…