Radagast chanted slowly over the final potion before him and watched as it slowly turned a pale blue colour. TheIstar nodded, it was ready at last.

The brown wizard turned to face the bed in which his close friend Thranduil lay. Calelon had just finished applying the second of the three salves they had prepared for the King's grievous burns, whilst Gandalf sat on a chair in the far corner of the room as he recovered from his recent exertion of power.

Radagast padded over to him slowly, pot of pale blue potion in hand. "Erm…Gandalf? I…my potion is made but it will need you to activate it once it's been applied." Radagast cocked his head to the side and studied his grey companion, "Are you recovered yet Gandalf? As we need to activate the potion straight away once applied."

"Yes, yes," Gandalf muttered as he sat up straighter in his chair and then motioned for Radagast to proceed.

"Ah yes…right."

Radagast walked until he stood above Thranduil and looked down at him. He was burned so very badly – Radagast could not even begin to imagine the pain the elven King would have gone through. Radagast continued to stare down at him sadly – very few knew it but Thranduil often sought him out, and where others often took him for a bumbling fool Thranduil had a healthy respect for him. As such Radagast had taught the elven King much about herb lore and how to harness and use green magic – he had even helped the King set the spell upon the Enchanted River. Over the centuries they had become unlikely but firm friends and he would not let his friend suffer any longer.

Determined, Radagast stepped up and first called the healing chant to memory – it had been a good few centuries since he had needed to use such a strong healing song. The first part of it – his part - was to be sung in Sindarin with the second part –Gandalf's – to be sung in the high tongue of Quenya. He went over the lines in his head a few times and once certain he had it correct he began to work his way around Thranduil's bed as he applied the potion and sung the chant.

"Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen…"

With each application of the potion Radagast pushed a little surge of power into Thranduil. He hoped it would help strengthen and sustain the King against the next step in the process.

At length the last wound was tended to and Radagast cast a weary glance over to Gandalf to see if he was ready to step in. It seemed he had perhaps pushed a bit too much of his own strength into Thranduil, but if it would help his friend then Radagast did not regret it one bit.

"I have done my half Gandalf – now for your turn. Oh, do, do hurry Gandalf, we haven't much time to activate it."

"Yes, yes, I know – keep your hat on."

~o~

Gandalf rolled his eyes heartily at his brown robed companion. Really did Radagast think he had a hearing problem? He had heard him the first time and was fully prepared to do his part – even if he had not looked it.

With one last irritated tut Gandalf stoop up and stretched forth his left hand – the hand that held Narya - over Thranduil's prone form.

"Hold him steady now Radagast, Calelon – I do not know how much this may hurt him."

The two did as instructed and satisfied Gandalf immediately began. Radagast did have a reason to fuss – the time span between the first and second part of this healing procedure needed to be kept to a minimum for it to have maximum effect.

"Nárendur á pusta…"

The once pale blue potion began to glow and slowly turn a pale red with each word intoned by Gandalf. Thranduil stirred slightly mouth parting as his breaths began to come faster and harsher. He did not thrash, only flinched from time to time as a small frown worked its way onto his face. So far so good, thought Gandalf as he moved deeper into the chant. Maybe, just maybe Thranduil would come out of this without much pain on his part. Gandalf certainly hoped so – the elven King had already suffered enough.

"Á rucë sí Nárendur… á tíra cotumolya…"

The glowing continued until the potion turned fully red and it was at this point that Thranduil began to move much more forcefully. He bucked and thrashed as he turned his head from side to side and began to groan.

Gandalf forced himself to focus and sang on, "Nárendur á pusta…"

The potion was a deep ruby red now and its glow spread so that it encompassed Thranduil's body fully. Thranduil unfortunately chose this moment to wake up and scream. The scream was one of pure agony and deep pain yet Gandalf hardened his heart to it and continued on regardless. This was for Thranduil's own good – it would help him in the end.

Gandalf stood firm and continued to focus as he called forth the evil that made dragon fire burn so terribly. The level of power he used threated to lift the illusion that kept Narya a hidden secret and Gandalf upped his concentration again as he struggled to get the power balance right. No one save Cirdan, Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and of course Radagast knew he held an elvish ring of power and Gandalf had no intention of letting that information become public knowledge.

He struggled for a moment before he finally struck the right balance and continued with his chant.

"Á rucë sí Nárendur…"

Thranduil screamed all the more, bucked and thrashed so wildly that had it not been for Radagast and Calelon he would have fallen from the bed. He was more than fully awake now, though his eyes were rolled back in his head as he writhed and shouted in agony. Gandalf simply gave thanks that the walls of Thranduil's stronghold were thick enough to save any passing wood elf from hearing their King scream in tortured anguish.

They were nearly at the end now; the glow around Thranduil had all but disappeared and the potion slowly returned to its original pale blue colour as the malevolent sting of dragon fire let loose its hold upon Thranduil's tender skin. For an ancient healing spell that Gandalf had used but once before it had gone rather well; the evil that lingered in the burns had heeded the will of Narya – master of all fire – and fled.

Now Thranduil's body would have a chance at healing. True, there was much more work to be done on him and he would face a lengthy recovery alongside unsightly scars but at least the slimy evil of dragon fire would not hinder him in his progress – would not drag him back into the abyss.

Finally Gandalf pulled back his hand and all but slumped to the floor in exhaustion. It had been a long time indeed since he had had need to call on so much of Narya's power and he felt utterly drained. Still - he pulled himself back up – Thranduil had not yet stopped his anguished wailing and he still trashed violently against his brown companion and the Royal healer.

Gently and mindful of the burns that had nearly eaten away the King's face, Gandalf tenderly cupped the unburned side of Thranduil's face and held him steady.

Thranduil tried to move his head but Gandalf's gentle yet strong hold prevented him from doing so, though the King did not cease in flailing his body.

"Sîdh, sîdh, Oropherion – heed my voice and calm yourself."

Thranduil's thrashing eased only a fraction whilst his one clear eye roved the room – fear and confusion easy to see in the ice blue orb.

"I need…I need – no, no, no…" Thranduil's voice was no more than a whisper, hoarse from screaming and smoke inhalation as he tried desperately to move his head so he could look around but Gandalf held him still.

"Look at me Oropherion, look at me – be calm," Gandalf soothed. "You are not on the battle field now. Sîdh mellon-nin."

Slowly Thranduil stopped his writhing and Gandalf gently angled the King's head so that he could look him in the eye.

"Just focus on me mellon-nin – you are at home now – the battle field is left far behind. You are injured but we will help you," Gandalf intoned slowly and calmly.

The grey wizard could sense Thranduil's great unease and panic had not calmed in the slightest as he continued to look frantically round the room. With a sigh Gandalf stroked his ash blonde hair – if he could just get Thranduil to focus, to calm himself and just focus on him things would go a lot smoother.

Gandalf tried to soothe the elven King again, "Me Oropherion – forget about looking around the room. Just calm yourself and look at me."

Instead of calming Thranduil got even more agitated as his one clear eye continued to dart from direction to direction and he bucked hard against Calelon and Radagast as he tried his utmost to sit up.

"Where Mithrandir?" Thranduil's hoarse voice was steeped in panic.

"Where are you? Mithandir? I can't… I can't see!"

~o~

Thranduil knew he sounded panicked, frightened even – but he did not care. He could not see.

He. Could. Not. See.

Black - black was everywhere even though Thranduil knew very well that his eyes were wide open. He could hear Mithrandir speaking to him, telling him to be calm yet he paid him no mind as he tried again to sit up in spite of the pain in his body only to find himself being held down firmly and he had no strength left to try again. Instead he keep moving his eyes – up and down, round and round, left and right hoping against hope – but still there remained just blackness.

Complete and utter darkness.

Thranduil jerked his head free of Mithrandir's grip at last and let it lay on the pillow in exhaustion as he let the fact that he could not see sink in. He tried his best to calm, willed his rapidly beating heart back to a normal pace and at last let out a long shaky breath. He stared hard into the inky blackness and felt a single tear slip from his right eye.

He. Could. Not. See.

The words spun round and round in his mind and Thranduil felt another tear slide free. It came from his left eye that time, stung horrifically and caused more tears to spring to eyes. Thranduil tried, tried hard to blink them away but each blink only confirmed his plight. Whether his eyes were closed or open the darkness remained.

"Leave me," Thranduil cringed to hear the soft weakness of his voice and tried to steady it. "Leave me now."

"B-but Aran-nin I really need to…"

"Calelon, Mithrandir and…Aiwendil – it is you right? I can feel your presence. Please leave…I…I need…"

"Nay Oropherion we are not leaving you," Thranduil could hear the concern in the grey wizard's voice. "We have only just dragged you back from the brink – what you need is to let Calelon take a look at you. Starting with your eyes, we will do everything to help you Thranduil…"

Thranduil cut him off, "What? What will you do Mithrandir? If my sight is gone then it is gone – there will be no help and I…I…"

The King found himself choked by a sob and took a great heaving breath before he continued, "Just leave me please – I need…I need a moment. Go."

"Th-Thranduil…" Aiwendil's voice sounded soft and broken but it could not match just how broken Thranduil felt inside at that moment.

"Come," Calelon's smooth calming voice interrupted the brown wizard, "We will leave but only for a moment Aran-nin. Then I must come back and tend you and check over your sight. The sooner I begin the more chance we may have of saving it."

Thranduil only gave a soft snort which gave way to a near silent sob. The door clicked shut behind the three and for the first time since his beautiful wife's death Thranduil loosened his iron grip on his emotions and gave them free reign.

Grief, pain, fear and despair all freely flowed forth.

And the elven King cried.

~o~

Legolas glared at his arrow that had gone so clearly astray. Why could he not get this right? He was usually so good in his archery lessons and it was rather aggravating that he was so off today.

"Right all - that's it for today. You are dismissed but I recommend that you all seek the training grounds before our next lesson together and get some practice in." Lady Yalä chuckled, "Some of you definitely need it."

Legolas huffed and stalked over to collect his wayward arrows – they had all been so off the mark – how embarrassing.

"Las."

Legolas turned to see his three best friends as they too gathered their arrows.

"Valar Las you were quite off today," Aeglosson stated as he plucked one of Legolas' arrows from a nearby hedge and handed it to him.

"Do not remind me," Legolas pouted as he accepted another awry arrow from Tauriel. "I am surprised Lady Yalä did not call me out on it."

Faervel gave him a small encouraging smile, "It was not so bad Las – Aeglosson exaggerates as ever. After all it is only our first time trying this technique."

"Yes but no one was quite as bad at it as me today," Legolas could not shake his annoyance.

"Well it's over for now – doubtless you will practise yourself silly before the next lesson and show us all up then." Tauriel smiled at him, "Now are you coming for lunch?"

"Yeah," Aeglosson piped up. "My Naneth packed us up a huge lunch back at mine. She said we were welcome to come and take it after practice and head out for a picnic."

"Uh I don't think -" Legolas cut himself off as he felt the ominous presence of Lady Yalä behind him.

"Going somewhere Thranduilion? If I remember you have laps to do for me."

Legolas spun slowly on his heel before he dipped into a quick bow, "Of course Lady Yalä. I will begin them now."

The Prince turned to look at his friends apologetically, "Sorry mellyn – you go on ahead and enjoy."

"Will you join us later? We can wait for you." Faervel was ever the nice one.

Legolas gave him a quick small smile before he shook his head – no. He would have loved to go on a picnic with his friends and he knew they would have waited for him. After all it would not take him overlong to get through Lady Yalä's punishment. But Legolas wanted to get back home – he had decided to face his fears and accost one of the adults in his life and get them to tell him the truth about his Adar. He needed to know; twas the reason he had been so off his aim during the lesson and Legolas knew he could not function properly whilst he was so in the dark about his Adar.

"Nay – I am to head straight back to the palace after this, Lord Arahaelon's orders," Legolas fibbed when he saw that his friends looked as though they would protest.

"Oh – ok – I guess we'll see you tomorrow then Las."

Legolas nodded, quashed his guilt at the lie and waved goodbye before he followed after Lady Yalä to begin his laps.

He would use his punishment time to get his head clear and straight before he confronted either Rithel, Thanniel or Lord Arahaelon. Physical exertion and fresh air always helped him feel better and think more clearly and already this morning he had managed to work off most of the cloying fear from earlier that morning that had near crippled him. He would be brave, he would be strong and he would find out the truth about his Adar.

~o~

Thranduil lay perfectly still and emotionally drained. He had gained a hold of himself, ceased his weeping and now waited patiently for the expected return of Calelon. The time of his grief was done. He was King and he had to move on. Or at the very least try.

He sighed as he continued to blankly stare into nothing. He thought that the darkness in his right eye had lightened somewhat to a more dull grey; then again it was likely his overly hopeful imagination showing him what he most wanted just then.

Valar how he wanted it. For this to all be some form of shock or something that he would recover from and regain his full sight. Yet Thranduil was nothing if not a realist. He knew that this tale had a very slim chance of a happy ending; whilst he had sobbed he had reached up to wipe at his eyes and… well… half of his face seemed to be missing. He had jerked his hands back in shock and agony as his raw skin protested at being touched but not before he had gained a glimpse of how much of a wreck his face was.

Slowly Thranduil began to take stock of the rest of his body and started by wiggling his toes. He moved upward, bit by bit, wincing a little as he felt a painful area on his hip. The further up he went the worse the pain seemed to get and Thranduil found himself gasping at it. Finally he was back up to his face again and the elven King braced himself as he lifted a shaky hand in readiness to touch it. He wanted detail – to know just how badly he was maimed.

"I would not do that if I were you Aran-nin or I fear you will come to regret it. The wounds are still very fresh and will be very tender."

Thranduil stilled then let his hand drop slowly to his side at Calelon's voice.

"How bad is it? My face Calelon – how bad?"

A weary sigh left the Royal healer before, "Quite bad. Now here, drink this it will help your pain."

Thranduil forced himself to swallow the vile drink set to his lips before he ground out another question. "Quite bad tells me nothing Calelon. Tell me this instead – will I be able to face others again without them fleeing in terror at the sight of me?"

Another deep sigh, "You will have to learn how to hold a glamour spell in place – and a powerful one at that."

Thranduil's heart sank, "That bad?"

"Yes Aran-nin that bad. Even once you heal your face will never be the same – not this side of the Seas. I am sorry. Now may I have a look at your eyes and conduct a few tests? Your looks I can do nothing for but your sight I may well be able to save."

"Of course."

Thranduil lay still and tried not to flinch as he felt Calelon's cool hands upon him, but it was difficult. The pain in his face was unbearable even with the painkiller he had taken and it was not long before Thranduil flinched away from the Royal healer's touch with a gasp.

"I am sorry Aran-nin, this will hurt and I wish I could put you to sleep or give you something stronger for the pain but I need you awake for this part of the procedure. I apologise in advance for any pain I cause you."

"Worry not Calelon – do as you must. Tis doubtful that I would be able to find rest anyway."

"But you must Aran-nin for tis the only way you will recover."

"Hmm," Thranduil gave a non-committal grunt.

Unless Calelon drugged him Thranduil knew he would not find rest. Already the burden of his Kingship began to crowd him as he tried to recall his last memories. How had he gotten here from the battle field? And what of his maethyr? How had they fared? Had they won? Or had his and his people's suffering been in vain?

Thranduil scrunched his face up both at the pain of being examined and as he tried desperately to call forth his memory. Alas for him all remained as dark as his sight currently was. He could remember nothing.

"I cannot remember."

"That is expected – do not worry over much at this stage. After all Mithrandir had to call you back from the very brink of Mandos. It will be a few days until anything comes back to you."

Mandos? So that had been where the dark place was, Thranduil mused. He had been badly off indeed.

Thranduil hissed as he felt Calelon lift the lid on his sore left eye and decided to keep speaking to distract himself from the pain as well as catch up on what had gone on in his realm since whenever it was he had been knocked out.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Nine days."

"Nine days? Elberethabove!" Thranduil had not expected that, "I take it Lord Arahaelon has assumed position as Regent?"

"Yes Aran-nin with Riel Rithel at his side. Along with the help of Bôr they seem to have everything under control. And worry not we were victorious over the dragon scum – you cut down the last one that charged our forces. The Serpants of the North have been routed and the realm is safe."

Thranduil tried his hardest to remember the battle – to call to mind how it had gone yet still nothing came to him and he cursed under his breath.

"Sîdh Aran-nin you will get a full report from the war council eventually and it will all return to you then if not before. If it eases your mind now however I am told that all the dragons were slain apart from one slug which managed to make good its escape."

Thranduil tensed at that news before Calelon soothed him again.

"There have been watches set day and night my Liege – if that dragon were to show its face again we are well prepared."

Thranduil felt himself relax a little. Arahaelon was wise – he would ensure the realms safety whilst Thranduil recovered.

Any sense of relaxation quickly left Thranduil and he very nearly screamed as he felt pain tear trough the left side of his face and Calelon hastily apologised.

Struggling not to whimper Thranduil asked after his warriors. "How have the maethyrfared? How many wounded? How many deaths?"

"Aran-nin I do not think -"

"How many?" Thranduil was pleased with the strength he managed to get into the question.

Calelon gave that great, weary sigh again. "Too many. The numbers of wounded are so great that we have had to open the lower emergency healing halls in order to tend to them all."

"And the deaths?"

"Also far too many. Twenty five arrived here already dead and a further five joined them. My staff have worked very hard but could do nothing for them."

"Of course - I have every faith in all thenestryn," Thranduil was quick to assure.

"Le fael Aran-nin. There remain another five warriors perilously close to Mandos but again I assure you my staff will do everything in their power to keep them in the land of the living."

"I know and I thank you and your healers for all you have done and continue to do."

Thranduil meant it. His people were often mocked as 'less wise' but they were in fact very skilled in herb lore and medicines; he knew he could rest assured that his warriors would receive the best medical care possible outside Imlardris.

Satisfied that he knew what he needed to know regarding the realm Thranduil asked the last question he was dying to have answered. He would have asked it beforehand but he was a King first and a father second. It was sad but a fact of his position.

"What of my children? You mentioned Rithel was aiding Lord Arahaelon but what of Legolas? How do they both fare? Do they know the extent of my injuries?"

"Riel Rithel has been nothing but exceptional – a pillar of strength to the people; she has done the name of the Royal House of Oropher proud. Ernil Legolas too has been most brave for someone so young. Both he and Riel Rithel attended every funeral in your place. Riel Rithel alone however knows the extent of your injuries – Thanniel, Lord Arahaelon and the Princess deemed Ernil Legolas too young for all the details."

Thranduil attempted to nod before he swiftly abandoned the agony inducing action, "I see. Thank you for filling me in Calelon, it is most appreciated."

"You are most welcome my Liege," and Thranduil could hear as the Royal healer pottered around with something before Calelon moved closer to his bedside again.

"I have finished my examination of your eyes and face now Aran-nin. I will begin to bandage your wounds now and I think it will be best if you are asleep for that part."

Thranduil felt himself gently propped up before the cool rim of a glass was pressed to his lips for the second time.

"This will help you sleep and contains stronger medicine for your pain Aran-nin; the more rest you get the faster and easier your recovery will be."

Thranduil lifted a trembling hand and slowly pushed the glass aside. "Do not try and put me to sleep without first telling me your findings Calelon. What of my eyes? My sight?"

"As you wish Aran-nin – I believe in your right eye you have what is called flash blindness. It is caused by exposure to high intensity light and heat. I will put some ointment directly into the eye itself which whilst uncomfortable will help greatly. It is my hope that you will have full vision in your right eye within the next two days."

Thranduil wanted to smile, grin and whoop for joy but he heard what Calelon had been very, very careful to say – his right eye. Calelon had spoken of his right eye only and not the left so instead Thranduil braced himself.

"That is good news indeed but I notice you have said nothing about the sight in my left eye."

Thranduil gulped as Calelon gave that heavy sigh that he had come to dread.

"I am so very sorry," Calelon began and Thranduil felt his heart sink in fear. "It will take a divine miracle from the hands of the Valar themselves for you to ever see even a smidgen of light in that eye. I am afraid Aran-nin that your left eye will never see again."

TBC.

Istar – Quenya for Wizard

Ceven dhaer, anno vellas lín enin 'raw hen - Great earth, may you give your strength to this body

Nárendur á pusta – Servant of Fire halt (Quenya)

Á rucë sí Nárendur – Flee now Servant of Fire (Quenya)

Á tíra cotumolya - Face your foe (Quenya)

Sîdh – Peace

Mellon-nin - My friend

Aran-nin - My King

Naneth - Mother

Mellyn – Friends

Adar – Father

Maethyr – (plural) Warriors

Riel – Princess

Nestryn – (plural) Healers

Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of Thank you

Ernil – Prince

A/N: So at last an update for this one. I'm sorry it took so long but I was really stuck for inspiration and then of course I got distracted by writing Christmas tales. (Go check them out if you haven't already – it's not too late!) So yeah – my apologies – I'll try my best to keep the updates fairly regular – but even if they are a bit late don't worry. This story will be finished.

For those who are reading and following Friendship Amidst Loss fear not – I'm currently working on an update and will get it posted as soon as I can.

As ever thanks to my fab beta Karleen for her work.