In Mirkwood- Chapter 6

Happy Birthday to me! I got an Apple laptop today, so will still be publishing even though this computer is on the verge of giving in! I also got the One Ring and the box set of Game of Thrones (I finished the books last night- ASDFGHJKL!)

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

"How is he, Sire?"

Thranduil glanced up as Galion came through the doors. The mid-morning sunlight was glancing through the window, glinting off the dust notes in the air. It had only been a few hours since they had been allowed back into the healing wards, and Thranduil had not moved from the chair.

"He is getting warmer" murmured Thranduil as Galion approached, sitting on the end of the bed carefully.

"A fever?"

"The healers think it might be." Thranduil gently twitched back the light blanket covering Legolas to reveal white bandages. He sighed. "Apparently the wounds are beginning to look infected, though they aren't sure."

Galion nodded as Thranduil pulled the blanket back up and then turned to him.

"Where did you go?"

"I went to speak to the other captains, Sire. On my way I hear a lot of whispers and rumours circulating, so I took the time to draw up an official report on what happened. This way, everyone will at least know most of the facts."

Thranduil turned in his chair. "What did the report say?"

Galion frowned. "Sire?"

"I know little of what happened, Galion, other than it was an attack on orcs, and obviously…" Thranduil gestured at the bed where his son lay. He reached out and placed a hand on Legolas' forehead and frowned. Almost instantly a healer sitting nearby was at the bed, her slender hand pushing away Thranduil's. The King sighed and turned back to Galion.

"The rest of the patrol is dead, aren't they?" Thranduil's voice was heavy as he watched the healer out of the corner of his eyes.

Galion nodded slowly. "Aye my Lord" he murmured. "All of them were gone by the time we arrived."

Thranduil sighed. "Remind me, after the bodies return, to speak to all the families."

"My Lord?" asked Galion, glancing at the still form of Legolas.

Thranduil ran his hand through his hair; his gaze now focused on the healer as she pulled back bandages and checked wounds. "I am still King, Galion. Others have lost their children, their spouses, or their friends. If I do not speak to them, at least, then they will think me selfish, placing my son above all of theirs." He sighed. "Despite the fact that deep down that is exactly what I do does not matter. I am their King; I must go."

Galion nodded, and just then the healer stood back from the bed. Thranduil looked up at her expectantly.

"There is little change" she said softly. "Though he does seem to be getting warmer. We shall keep giving him as much liquids as possible, and see what the afternoon may bring."

Thranduil nodded gratefully, and the healer moved to the other side of the room, busying herself with herbs. Thranduil looked back at Galion. "The full report, if you would."

Galion nodded. "We first noticed something was wrong mid-afternoon. The trees were silent, so I ordered the patrol to the forest floor and we continued cautiously."

"We were not even south of the elf path when we discovered them." Galion shifted on the end of the bed. "It was absolute carnage, Sire. There must have been over a hundred orc corpses littered in amongst the trees."

"I ordered the patrol to spread out and check for survivors. I personally found Legolas, and worked with a few of my patrol to move him out of the mud and close the wounds. The rest of them piled the orc corpses and moved the bodies of the fallen away from the blood."

"A stretcher was built and I and two others brought Legolas back. The rest of the patrol stayed out there, making rough stretchers to bring back the bodies and to burn the corpses of the orcs. Upon arriving here, I took the liberty to order another patrol out to join mine- they should be back later today or tomorrow."

"Some of the orcs, the ones furthest south, were killed by arrows, but the rest of them had died to knives or swords. I think there were two bands of orcs at the site. It is my guess that Legolas' patrol took on the first band of orcs, not realising a second band was nearby. When the rest of the orcs attacked, the patrol was completely overwhelmed. In those situations, it is impossible to even retreat sometimes."

Galion looked up at Thranduil, who was clenching his fists again. "I hope that I did what was right" he said.

Thranduil sat back. "Aye it was" he murmured. "You probably did better than I would have ever done." He gently brushed back hair from Legolas' still face. Legolas was still pale, though maybe there was a hint of colour in his cheeks. Thranduil didn't know whether that was good- it could easily be from an incoming fever.

Galion stood up. "Would you like me to stay, Sire? Only I need to redistribute the patrols now, and fill in paperwork. I will need to do Legolas' duties as well."

Thranduil nodded absentmindedly. "You are dismissed" he muttered. Galion bowed and turned to leave. Thranduil looked up. "Galion?" he called.

"Aye, my Lord?"

"Hannon le."

0-o-0-o-0

"It is what we feared, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, my Lord."

"No doubt about it?"

"No, my Lord."

Thranduil sighed deeply, shifting closer to the bed. "What can we do?"

The healer passed over a deep bowl and a few cloths. "Try to keep him as cool as possible, Sire. We cannot let this fever rise too much."

Thranduil nodded. Taking the bowl, he wetted the cloth and began to wipe the beads of sweat away from Legolas' forehead. Legolas was lying on his back now, only one thin sheet covering him. As Thranduil gently placed the cloth on his forehead he moaned faintly, twisting his head in delirium. Thranduil wiped the cloth over his forehead, murmuring softly, and Legolas stilled.

"Anything else?" he asked the healer, who was moving to the other end of the room.

The healer looked around. She sighed. "Pray."

Thranduil looked back at Legolas, and dipped the cloth in the cool water again. Placing it on his forehead, he took another and began to spread the cool water over Legolas' face and neck.

It was dark now. Through the window Thranduil could see the stars, faint pinpricks in the inky blackness of the sky. He sighed.

"Ai Elbereth" he murmured. "Why did this have to happen?"

He got no answer from the Valar. He never expected any. The night of the first charge at Dagorlad, when he had returned to the tents, had been the last time he had called out to them. That night Gil-Galad had found him on the battlefield bringing in the wounded and the dead, and had asked him to come with him. Thranduil had not noticed how gentle he was when speaking to him. He had never really assumed anything until Gil-Galad had led him to his father's tent and taken him inside.

Thranduil still remembered every single detail he had seen upon entering- the brightly burning torches in brackets, the maps and pieces of parchment scattered across the floor. The stretcher in the middle of the tent, his father's lifeless body resting there. Gil-Galad had solemnly handed him Oropher's crown, and that had been when Thranduil had given in and wept, falling to the floor next to his father's body. Gil-Galad had simply looked on with tears in his eyes; even though he had not really liked Oropher much, Thranduil had lived in Lindon, and he had known the Prince well. Elrond had come in soon after, giving Thranduil what comfort he could offer. Thranduil had cried into Elrond's shoulder for longer than he cared to remember.

That night, sitting in his father's tent with Elrond, the crown of Eryn Galen in his lap, Thranduil had questioned, raged and even pleaded to the Valar, begging them for one more moment with his father, one more day when he would not have to be King in that bitter war. It had been to no avail. The stars had remained clouded and the Valar had not answered.

Thranduil did not blame the Valar for this. After all, he was only one Elf. They would not answer him. Yet that night had been the last time he had asked. After that night he had taken up the crown of Eryn Galen and led his army into the battle. He never forgot the Valar, of course, but never again did Thranduil plead to them like he had on that night. It was up to him to cope.

Yet tonight he was scared, very scared of what might happen. And when there was no-one else to turn to, even those that would not answer were better than nothing.

Thranduil looked at the stars again. "Saes, Elbereth" he murmured. "Just let him live. Let my son survive. He is not meant to die, not now. Not here. Please, don't take him away from me. Namo, don't let him enter your halls. It is not his time. He can do so much more for this world."

Thranduil buried his head in his hands as hot tears trickled down his cheeks. "Saes" he murmured. "I'm begging you." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Hear that? I haven't begged you for so long. Just listen to me. Saes, just this once. It was too late that night, too late for anything to happen. But my son still has a chance!"

Thranduil clenched his teeth. "I will not let my son fall to the shadow! I cannot let that happen. Saes, just this once, listen to me. Saes…"

0-o-0-o-0

Thranduil looked up as the door swung open.

"How is he, Sire?"

Galion greeted him like he had for the day with that question. And, as usual, Thranduil sighed upon hearing it. His answer never varied much either.

"About the same. I cannot tell."

Galion nodded, yet instead of coming into the room he lingered by the doorway. Thranduil frowned. "What is it?"

"The elves have just come back from the battle site, Sire" said Galion softly. "Bearing the bodies of the fallen."

Thranduil sat up straighter immediately. "I want you to bring all the elves that you took, that first saw the…site, to me. Straight away."

"But Sire-"

Thranduil waved his hand. "I know they are weary, Galion, yet I wish to speak to them. It will not take long, and then they can rest."

"Actually, Sire, I wasn't going to say that" said Galion. "I was just wondering whether it would be wise to bring them into this room, with…" He trailed off, indicating the still figure of Legolas lying on the bed.

Thranduil sighed, glancing at Legolas. "I will meet them outside this room, then. It will not be long."

Galion bowed. "As you wish, my Lord" he said as he left the room.

It was not long before he returned and knocked on the door. Thranduil, who had been slumped in the chair next to Legolas, stood up. He gently kissed Legolas' brow. "I will be back soon" he murmured. Legolas, beads of sweat covering his face, made no response. He had hardly moved, only sipping the smallest drops of water at a time.

Galion opened the door as Thranduil turned away from the bed. "They are here, my Lord" he said softly.

Thranduil nodded and made his way out of the room, Galion pulling the door to behind him.

Twenty elves stood to attention in front of him. Though they had tried valiantly to neaten themselves up, Thranduil could see their clothes were muddy from kneeling on the ground. Patches of dark blood stood out against green cloth. For some of them, their soft boots were coated in mud and something else, a black ash that clung to them. These were the elves that had burnt the orcs. Yet all of the elves carried in their faces the horror and grief of what they had seen; their faces were pale, nearly white. Tracks had been made through the dirt on their cheeks, where tears had long since dried.

All this Thranduil took in in an instant. He pulled himself up. "At ease" he commanded.

Instantly the elves in front of him sagged, a few leaning on their neighbour. Thranduil watched them.

"I know you are weary" he said softly. "And soon you will be able to rest. Yet first I wanted to speak to all of you."

He looked at each of them in turn as he spoke. "I wanted to thank you all for what you have done. It is no easy matter to see what you have seen, to cope with what has been thrust upon you. What is more, you returned my son to me, and for that I am grateful."

"I know it is hard." At these words, a few of the elves dropped their gaze to the floor. Thranduil continued. "I know all too well how difficult it is to cope with what has happened. Fifteen elves have been lost. Another life still hangs in the balance. At times like this, it takes enormous effort simply to carry on."

"But carry on we must. Yes, the darkness is spreading, is deepening. But, and forgive me for sounding clichéd, we must not fail those who gave their lives for us. I know what questions are in your minds, but we cannot let them stop us from fighting. We have to carry on."

Thranduil blinked as a sudden tear grew in his eye, and looked at the assembled elves. "Again, I am deeply grateful to you. Please, go and rest. You are dismissed."

Galion nodded and the elves turned to go. Yet one of them lingered slightly and the rest of the group, seeing him stay, turned to watch.

The elf bowed low. "Forgive me, Sire, but I-well, we all wanted to know…"

Thranduil nodded. "Continue."

"How fares Prince Legolas, my Lord?"

The question was quiet and soft, and yet Thranduil felt a sudden pricking at his heart when asked, seeing again how beloved Legolas was by his people. He smiled a small smile. "He is alive" he said softly. "But I will not lie, he is gravely wounded. The next day or so will be very important."

The elf bowed again. "Thank you, my Lord" he said. "If there is anything we can do…"

"I will let you know" assured Thranduil. The elves turned and left, their weary feet scuffing the floor. Thranduil turned to Galion.

"I would tell you all the same things, Galion, but I suspect you already know."

Galion smiled. "It was inspiring nevertheless, Sire."

"Be careful Galion" warned Thranduil. "Cheap flattery does not get you anywhere." He chuckled slightly. Maybe there was still hope, but hope in what, he did not know.

To Be Continued

There, it's not a cliffie, is it? Next chapter up tomorrow!