How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep...that have taken hold." ― J.R.R. Tolkien

It had been four days since the princes patrol had set out and still no word. They were due back two days ago. The King had sent him to find his son. And Galion prayed all was well with the prince though the darkening of the forest said otherwise. He nimbly settled from tree to tree followed by six others.

They alighted from the branches at length running through the Mirkwood forests. The sun was high and the air light with an undercurrent of a darkness that had been present not too long ago. The trees and wind were foreboding. That was until the smell assailed him and his brethren full force. He cringed as he tracked the scent like a hound until he emerged into the living embodiment of horror. A younger elf simply fell to his knees at the carnage while the other few had tears in his eyes. Galion furiously blinked back those that were threatening to fall from his own eyes and covered his nose with an armored hand. "Search for survivors! Bring what bodies you find, those intact we shall take home those mutilated… we must burn." The order however was redundant as all the corpses were beyond recognition. All that was left were scraps of flesh and bones. The elves were horrified at the brutalization of their Kin now weeping openly and swearing curses at the orcs and oaths of vengeance.

"Search for the prince!" The elves spoke amongst themselves giving each other words of comfort as they scavenged through the debris and carnage for any sign of survivors. It was Galion who found the deep brown cloak of the prince with golden leafs embroidered at its sleeves.

The world froze for Galion. "No, no." this couldn't be happening. No! The prince had always made it back be it wounded or carrying wounded or wounded and carrying a wounded. For him to simply end? It was unfathomable. To Galion the prince was more than that. He was. He was a symbol of resilience, endurance, perseverance despite all odds. Tears flowed freely down his face as the elves gathered around him some mourning their own losses and all mourning the loss of the prince.

Galion's jaw set as he cradled the cloak at his chest. "We can't tell him, he won't survive this."

A fair haired elf rested a hand on his shoulder. "We must. There is only so much we can say until he learns of the truth."

Galion bowed his head pressing his face into the cloak. Why Valar? Why had he allowed this? The prince he had done nothing wrong! Why had the gods abandoned them? He wept. They all wept unwilling, unable to do more than that. They were more then stricken with grief, they were broken. How would the realm live on? How would the King live on? Was now the time the Lady Galadriel spoke of? Was this why the child had been kept in secret? Had she forseen his death and not spoken? Why then? To what end to hide the child when now he could have comforted the King at the very least with his mere presence. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The sun was dead. Put out by the cursed darkness. The sun set a blood red when he finally rose tears still falling freely down his eyes. "We must tell the King." He said at length. There was not much else left to do.

The halls were silent save the change of the guard. Thranduil shifted upon his throne waving away his dinner tiredly having no desire to eat. It had been a long day. Patrols needed deployment. Elrond still awaited an answer on some unimportant matter. But all these did not weigh upon the king as did the absence of his son.

The delay had been far too long and he was a father. Worry was his prerogative and worry was the wrong word for what he felt. Four days! What if something had happened to his son? What if the patrol found his- No! He couldn't think that he had to have faith if not in the gods than in his son. He shifted in his seat unable to read through more than twelve lines in the past hour. Truth be told he had remembered none of what he had read. As the hour approached midnight he was ready to rip the report and set the rest on fire and then dance around it for good measure. Ai ion nin hurry back!

The scouting party he had sent after his son was due back any moment now. He rose and made his way to the war council room his eyes boring holes into the map. At length even this bored him and with a wave of his hand he sent the figurines on the map crashing onto the ground along with whatever else had been unlucky enough to stand on the table. He made his way back to the throne room pacing it like a jungle prowler. At length he collapsed back onto his Throne drumming his fingers onto the arm rest.

Soft footsteps broke the near silence as the worried elves on guard looked on at the scouting party. Thranduil's eyes widened not seeing his son nor any of the patrol. "Where-?" But his question was cut off when he saw what lay in Captain Galion's arms. "No!" the soft exclamation was followed by the King rushing to touch the shredded cloak of his son. "Where? Where is he Galion?"

Thranduil's eyes searched Galion's begging for this whole scenario to be merely a misunderstanding. Legolas couldn't be dead! He couldn't! The thought was impossible to comprehend. "Where…where is my son?"

"WHERE IS HE!" The yell cut through the halls like a knife. "Where is the body?" Wild eyes met Galion's saddened ones tears flowing freely down the Kings fair face.

Galion said nothing but a tear snaked its way down his cheek as well. "Burned, my lord-"

"NO! VALAR NO, SAES NO!" Thranduil fell to his knees still holding the battered cloak pressing it to his chest. He sobbed into the cloak tears shaking his whole frame shuddering.

"Saes Eru Give him back to me! I have no one else! Take my life saes not his Valar please. He is too young to die! Do you hear me? Give him back! SAES!" The wracking sobs resounded in the throne room. His son his precious son. He had no one else. Why? Why had the light abandoned him? What had he done to deserve this? And if he had why had the gods not taken him. Why? Why had he let Legolas go? His sun the whole reason he still kept on going. What use was their living in a world where his son no longer sang? No longer laughed? No longer existed.

He screamed. Screamed because there was nothing left. What little of his heart remained was shriveling like a winter leaf. And with each cry he felt more at peace as if a thin mist veiled his eyes. Everything was greying. Colors lost their luster. Trees their song. Even the coat he held seemed to bring him less pain. It was a numb feeling that gripped him. A vague sense of an undying furnace somewhere close to his heart. Everything lost its value. And slowly almost acceptingly the cloak dropped from his hands. After a good hour of shouts the hall was plunged in silence.

"My King?" Galion's eyes widened in horror as his blue eyes met the dimming ones of the King. "No! My King please!" He dropped to his knees shaking. He had known this would happen deep in the confines of his heart. He had prayed the King would be stronger but he had always known. Who didn't? The King was but a shadow without his precious Greenleaf.

The King turned slowly and then looked back at Galion. His face was broken in its alien serenity. "Please what?" The voice was far away as were the eyes the voice calm as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather.

"What are your orders my King?" But the King pointedly ignored him and settled on the throne eyes staring at nothing in particular and said almost dreamily. "Orders? What Orders? I, I have none to give, leave….leave me to my peace."

Galion shuddered as his escort looked upon their King in horror. "Lord Galion? What are we to do?" A younger elf asked nervously as his patrol looked at the fading king.

But Galion's whole body kept shaking. He had received a letter once one hundred and ten years ago. Sworn to secrecy. Elrond had been against this knowledge spreading but Lady Galadriel insisted. And so it was decided in appeasement to both parties that Galion would know. What he did to deserve such an honor and burden he did not know but it was him the Lady Galadriel had chosen and perhaps chosen well for he was the closest to the King. It was him the elves would look to for guidance if all else failed. "My Lord," his lieutenant looked worriedly to the King, "We need a regent, we, we need you."

The elves looked to him for advice for guidance, lost and desperate and at length he relented. He knew himself and he was no leader of elves. Advisor yes but, if there was a better choice….his thoughts shifted back to the letter.

A time will come noble Friend, Captain, and Butler when knowledge as this will you need. Look not to lesser elves must you but to the line of Orpherion. More I cannot say, for that which I have seen is clouded. Only know this, age matters not in dark times.

He had not been butler nor even captain then but she had known. She had foreseen this. "Mirkwood has a King, Thranduil has another son."

The gasps and confusion was audible throughout the hall where many elves had gathered after the Kings screaming. Shoulders set cold sweat running down his back Galion turned to face his brethren. "Thranduil's younger son was kept hidden in Rivendell so that he could be raised in peace." The confusion was evident but the elves instantly assuming that their king could have had a secret lover in Rivendell away from the forests in which his first wife was slain. Ready to believe anything now when they had nothing, no hope left. More sweat snaked Galion's neck unsure how to explain that this child was half Vanyar, half from the hated race.

"I shall assemble a sortie, and they shall ride to bring the prince back home." The elves were dismissed and he called over his lieutenant. "You will lead the escort."

The elf bowed but Galion stopped him. "I am no regent. Now listen well, no one must know of what occurred in Mirkwood or the darkness will hit us hardest for truth will out and if the darkness knows of our loss it shall use this chink in the elven armor to annihilate us. In this way now it shall be divided unsure who to strike spreading thinner than it would if it new our position."

"What do I say Captain?" The elf shifted on his feet waiting for the reply.

Galion's brow furrowed in though until his eyes alighted. "Everyone knows the Kings temper, say he found out of the son and demands him back, Elrond would not stand in the way."

"The lieutenant bowed." Galion looked at the Kings broken face and prayed to Ilúvatar that what he did would be enough. Then he went to his room and finished what he had started on the forest floor. Weeping his heart out.

Sortie- Ten to Fifteen soldiers

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