The Royal healer gave Thranduil's hand the gentlest of squeezes, "No offense to Riel Rithel but we could not lose you not now, not ever. So kindly remove all thought of sailing from your mind Aran-nin for it shall not happen – not on my watch. Now be still and let me work on your left eye in peace."

Thranduil said nothing and did his best not to flinch in pain even as he pondered what Calelon had said. He honestly did not think he would be that much of a loss to the realm but clearly others felt differently. It made him feel warm; glad that his hard work for his eledhrim was noticed and appreciated. Speaking of whom, what did his subjects think of his pro-longed absence? He had been laid up here for nearly a full two weeks. It was unprecedented for him – usually he would have long since hauled himself back into his office.

"What news of the realm Calelon? Tell me the latest? What has Lord Arahaelon told the people regarding my continued convalescence?"

Calelon huffed in an irritated manner, "I thought I asked for a little peace?"

Thranduil smirked, "I'm bored and very much out of the loop – that is never a good thing for a King."

"You're bored?" Calelon sounded exasperated and disbelieving all at once.

"Yes bored. If you were stuck in bed with naught to do or even naught to see then you too would be bored. So answer my question; after all it would be a terrible waste of all your hard work if I were to die of boredom now."

Thranduil could almost hear his healer grit his teeth and it filled him with glee; which was far better than the alternative of being wracked with pain, for Calelon had now moved lower down to tend his face and it really did hurt.

"There is not much to tell in all honesty – the realm remains fine and stable under the leadership of your fine daughter and Lord Arahaelon. There have been no sightings of that last dragon that managed to escape and ten of your warriors were released from the infirmary yesterday. As for what Lord Arahaelon has told the people regarding your absence – well as far as I know nothing at all has been said. The people know you were wounded but that is all."

"Hmm," Thranduil mulled it all over, happy to hear Rithel was doing well and that the healing halls were emptying. He was even more pleased to hear that there had been no further dragon sightings – they could keep watch for another month or two before calling back the patrols who currently watched Ered Mithrim altogether. The King was stumped however over how much he should have revealed to his people about his injuries. It would be a long and tedious healing process and he could not keep his realm in the dark for that long. On the other hand however too much information about his current state could lead to panic and unrest and Thranduil did not want to make Rithel's stint at the helm any more difficult than it needed to be.

He thought it over for a minute more before speaking, "Will you send a message to Lord Arahaelon when you finish here with me? Tell him to make it known that though I have been injured gravely I am now awake and on the mend but it will take time - and during that time Rithel will reign as my Regent. Make no mention of my injuries."

Calelon gave a thoughtful hum before, "I will do as you have asked Aran-nin however Lord Arahaelon is bound to ask after you himself. He has been quite worried you know, and will want an update on how you are doing. What would you have me say? Can I tell him of your blindness in your left eye?"

"No! You must never breathe a word of that to anyone. Do you hear me Calelon? Only you, Mithrandir and Aiwendil must ever know of this. You may give Lord Arahaelon a full update but you will say nothing of my eyesight. Understood?"

Calelon sighed, "Do you really think it prudent to hide such a thing from Lord Arahaelon? He is your Regent and will be bound to find out sooner or later."

"I said you are not to tell him," Thranduil ground out.

"I understand your position Aran-nin but I still maintain it is best to inform Lord Arahaelon now rather than let him discover the fact for himself. Your depth perception, peripheral vison and hand eye co-ordination will all be affected. Your gait, stance and the way you interact with the world around you will change as a result and Lord Arahaelon is as sharp as a hawk's talon – he will notice instantly. You cannot really hope to hide this from him. You ought to tell your bodyguards as well – they will need to be aware so they can keep your blind side covered and protected at all times."

Calelon paused and gave a thoughtful hum before he continued, "The way you handle your weapons from now on will be altered and your bodyguards will need to know in order to help them compensate for it. Crown Commander Aglardaer should also be told – you train with him do you not Aran-nin? He needs to know so he can best help you re-learn how to use your weapons. I know -"

"Stop," Thranduil bit the word out. "Just stop speaking Calelon – I know you mean well but I command you to follow my orders – tell absolutely no one of my blindness. Am I clear?"

There was an aggrieved sigh from the healer before, "As you wish Aran-nin I will keep your secret, but as I say you cannot hope to keep this from those close to you for long. What of your children? Do you plan to keep them in the dark too?"

"The only one in the 'dark' right now is me," Thranduil snapped now thoroughly aggravated by Calelon's words. "You will breathe not one word of this to a soul. This is my problem, my affliction and I alone will decide whom to tell and when. For now I will not be having any visitors save you, Mithrandir and Aiwendil so I needn't worry about who will notice I am partially blind or not. Now please will you speak of this no more. Just do as you must and then leave me be."

"I am sorry to have upset you Aran-nin, but you must begin to think of these things – this blindness will not solely affect you."

"Stop. Talking."

Thranduil knew he was being snippy with Calelon but he could not help himself. The healer had brought up a multitude of things Thranduil hadn't even considered and in truth he didn't want to consider them. Some part of his mind was still in denial about the whole blind-in-one-eye thing. Somehow a part of the elven King still felt that this would all pass – that he'd make a full recovery and go back to being the strong, healthy ellon he had always been and this would all be some dim, dark and distant memory.

Yet Calelon's words had struck him – hard – this was real and everything Calelon said was true. He'd have to re-learn multiple things from basics like climbing stairs to the more complex things like using his twin swords and close combat. Worse than all of that was the realisation that Thranduil would have to disclose his life changing injury to several people. Arahaelon was his Regent as well as a father figure to him, the older ellon looked out for him and knew him very, very well – Thranduil had not a hope of hiding his blindness from him.

Calelon was also right about the fact that he would have to tell his Elite; his bodyguards could not do their job properly if they did not know that Thranduil now needed them to act as his left eye. Aglardaer was his best friend and deserved to know the truth for that reason alone as well as the fact that the leader of his Army was also his preferred sparring partner. The two often had rather vigorous bouts of training together so that Thranduil could stave off the effects of the oft desk-bound life of a King. There was no way he could hide from Aglardaer. Telling his children was something the King did not want to contemplate altogether – he couldn't imagine how he was meant to break the news to Rithel and Legolas.

Thranduil gave a deeply weary sigh, he did not want to have to discuss his handicap with anyone. He was a prideful ellon and to divulge this devastating weakness and admit that he would need regular help from now on was a huge blow to his pride. Thranduil gave another sigh – this was going to be a hugely humiliating recovery for him. He cringed internally at the thought of having anyone see him stumble around as he tried to adjust to half his field of vision being taken away. Then there would be learning how to do close combat and use his extensive range of weapons again – that was bound to be an injury filled and embarrassing time. There was also the issue of his looks – Calelon had said he'd need to learn how to hold up a powerful glamour spell in order to look normal again. And all this was only the beginning – there was no telling yet what other permanent afflictions he might yet be left with due to the burns that stung all down the left side of his body.

What if his left leg was left with too much scar tissue for him to ever walk gracefully again? What if the burns on his left shoulder didn't heal sufficiently for him to ever be able to fire an arrow? What if? What if? What if? Question after terrible, tormenting question swam round the King's blonde head and Thranduil begun to hyperventilate. Would he really be forced to sail after all?

"Sîdh Aran-nin – please do not work yourself up like this – I am truly sorry, it was not my intention to upset you with my words." Calelon's calm voice broke through Thranduil's increasingly panicked thoughts. "Please try to relax, do not tire yourself with overthinking things too much. Yes the road ahead of you is long and daunting but you are stronger than you think and you have plenty who will be more than willing to support you along the way. So please, please do not be upset and do not worry. You will overcome."

Thranduil said nothing – he did not feel like he would overcome but that he would succumb instead. Perhaps that would have been easier? If he had simply succumbed to his injuries in the first place, then he would not have to sit here and be so tormented. After all the Halls of Mandos were rumoured to be a place of great peace.

A sharp rap at the door was followed by Mithrandir's gruff voice and interrupted the elven King's miserable, brooding thoughts.

"Open up Calelon, Radagast is here with the last of your herbs."

Calelon finished securing the bandages round Thranduil's eyes and lower face with a gentle caress of his hands. "Cheer up Aran-nin you have visitors and now that Aiwendil is here with the herbs needed we can finish up this medicine for you. Then you needn't spend all your days in a drugged slumber and you will be well on the path to recovery."

Thranduil gave no indication he had even heard his healer's soft, slightly excited words. Thranduil wanted no visitors, wanted Calelon to cease poking and prodding him, wanted his mind to stop tormenting him with bleak, dark thoughts of his future and haunting, painful memories of the past battle. Thranduil just wanted some peace – a bit time to himself so he could fully come to terms with everything that had happened to him.

He heard his door open and click gently shut again and knew he would have no such luck. In addition to Calelon he'd now have Aiwendil clattering round in that clumsy way of his along with Mithrandir's too sharp eyes, observations and comments to put up with. Yet he had no choice but to put up with it as best he could.

"Ah Oropherion, I am glad to see you awake."

Thranduil caught a whiff of the grey wizard's ever present scent of pipe weed and he wrinkled his nose, "Suilad Mithrandir. Have you been at the pipe weed again? I hope you stay away from my trees when you indulge your filthy habit; I did not suffer though battling fire breathing dragons only to have you burn my forest to the ground with a stray ember."

Gandalf gave a dry chuckle, "I am truly pleased to see you in such high spirits."

Thranduil almost rolled his eyes before he remembered the unholy pain that once favoured action now caused and settled for a grunt instead.

Gandalf chuckled again before Thranduil felt the wizard place his hand upon him and send a warm wave of healing energy through him, "How do you feel today? I hope you are not in too much pain?"

"Nay, I am not in much pain at present though I am sure Calelon will change that once he gets back to work on me. I am as well as one can be in this situation."

Calelon gave a small laugh, back at the elven King's bedside, "I will do my best to keep you as pain free as possible Aran-nin but it will be difficult if you refuse to take any painkillers."

"What is this Oropherion?"

Thranduil held back a groan of annoyance. Calelon was nothing if not crafty; although he had promised not to drug Thranduil the healer knew that the grey wizard would have no such compunctions.

"I do not need anything just now Mithrandir, I am fine worry not. I am tired of being drugged to sleep – especially without my prior knowledge." That last little barb aimed at the Istar.

"Hmm, yes well…"

Thranduil smirked as he listened to the wizard shift around and clear his throat guiltily.

"Be that as it may Oropherion you ought not to take your injuries so lightly. Dragon fire and its resultant wounds are serious business indeed. You should heed Calelon."

"No – I can manage whatever pain comes my way. I am not as weak as you think Mithrandir."

"Elbereth save me from the pride of elves," Gandalf muttered crossly. "There is no shame in needing the relief and comfort painkillers bring Thranduil, especially not when in your condition. Calelon fetch the pain killers."

"Calelon will do no such thing as I have commanded him to leave me be. I don't need to be coddled Mithrandir. Why don't you make yourself useful and regal me with one or two of your yarns? And tell me have you seen either of my children recently? How are they?"

"M-make myself useful?" Gandalf grumbled at the King's cheek, "What do you think I have been doing all this time Oropherion if not making myself useful? Do you suppose I have come to these elf infested woods of yours for a nice sunny holiday?"

Thranduil gave a soft snort, "Oh come now Mithrandir you know what I mean. I am grateful for what you have already done for me." The blonde let the gratitude he felt seep into his tone, "Yet I would be even more grateful now if you would take my mind off things as Calelon tends to me."

Gandalf grumbled under his breath some more before Thranduil heard the grey wizard settle himself into a chair to his left. "As I'm sure Calelon has already told you, there's no need to worry about your realm. Arahaelon and Rithel are doing a fine job. I haven't seen much of the Princess to be perfectly honest with you Oropherion; the business of running a Kingdom does not lend to much free time but there have been no ill reports and day to day life continues as smoothly as it ever did. So aside from her probably being worried about you I am certain Rithel is fine. You should let her visit you – I'm sure it would ease her worries and do her a world of good – and the same goes for young Legolas."

Thranduil smiled at yet another positive report on Rithel's running of things in his absence before his thoughts turned to his young son.

"What of Legolas Mithrandir? How does he fare? He had a bit of a shouting match with Calelon yesterday over not being allowed in to see me," Thranduil smiled a little wider at the memory.

Gandalf harrumphed, "And that is exactly why you ought not to ignore my suggestion and ought to allow your children to come in and see you Oropherion. Sure your appearance now – bandaged from head to toe – will be a little disconcerting for them but it will stop them from near worrying themselves to death over you."

"Nay Mithrandir, this too I have told Calelon already – I want no visitors just now save you, Calelon and Aiwendil. And you are not to breathe a word of my injuries, especially my blindness to anyone."

Gandalf snorted, "Well it is too late for you to warn me off now Oropherion, I have already explained your injuries to young Legolas who was woefully in the dark about what had happened to his own Adar. Really Thranduil, it was shameful the way the boy was -"

"You did what?" Thranduil hissed interrupting the Istar mid-flow, "You told Legolas of my injuries?" The King's voice was low, full of incredulity and the promise of violence.

There was a rustle of cloth as Gandalf sat up straighter in the chair, "Yes I told Legolas and feel no regret. I am sorry but I think it was shameful of you all to keep him in the dark."

"Ah, Mithrandir with the greatest of respect I do not think Riel Rithel, Lord Arahaelon and Thanniel were being unkind when they decided to keep the young Prince in the dark," Calelon interjected as he sensed the rising murderous rage emanating from his King. "Ernil Legolas is rather young and really did not need to know all the gory details just yet. It was for his own peace of mind."

"Peace of mind? Well that plan clearly backfired Calelon – I have never seen such a stressed and fear-filled elfling in all -"

"What. Did. You. Tell. Him?" Thranduil snarled interrupting the wizard again.

The elven King was furious – he knew wizards loved meddling but really this was too much. Who on Arda did Mithrandir think he was?

"Calm yourself Oropherion – I said nothing of your blindness – that tale is yours alone to tell whomever you may wish. I did tell him however the truth of what has happened to you; that you were grievously injured in defending the realm from the perils of dragons and their fiery breath. And I also encouraged him – told him you were in good hands and on the mend. It was the right thing to do. The boy was not eating and had such a haunted look to his eyes. No child should ever look so stressed and frantic and fear-filled. I did what I thought was best for him."

Thranduil's anger left him in a rush as he considered Mithrandir's descriptions of Legolas.

Stressed, frantic, fear-filled, not eating, haunted.

The King clutched his bedsheets tightly in his fists easily ignoring the pain that flared. Had his son, his Lasseg really been so worried over him? The thought pained Thranduil more than any of the wounds on his body currently did. He could not bear to picture Legolas that way. He was such a cheeky, happy-go-lucky child; the words stress and fear did not belong in any sentence pertaining to Legolas.

"H-h…how is he now? How is Legolas now Mithrandir? How did he take the news? How is my son?" An edge of hysteria had crept into Thranduil's voice but he could not help it.

"Sîdh Oropehrion, young Legolas took the news well and seemed relieved to know that none of the wild imaginings he'd had regarding the situation were true. I have not yet seen him today but he was well when I left him. Still I do think it would do both him and Rithel good to see for themselves that you are awake, aware and on the way to being hale again."

Thranduil's death grip on his sheets loosened just a fraction. He had thought it would be easier for both his children if they did not have to see him like this and truth be told he didn't want them to see him in such a weakened and pathetic state either. He was their Adar, their protector and the only parent they had this side of the Seas; he'd been reluctant to let them see him in fear that somehow he would go down in their estimations – that they would see him as weak and pitiful rather than their strong, ever capable Adar. It was a ridiculous thought – he knew neither of his children were so shallow – but it was a thought he could not shake.

Perhaps, Calelon and Gandalf were right, perhaps allowing his children in to see him would put to bed their fears and worries for him. If Rithel and Legolas could see that he was coherent, able to talk and even smile perhaps then they would feel better and be able to go on without the burden of their worry for him weighing them down. Thranduil could see the many benefits of such a visit – not just for his children but for himself too – nothing on Arda made him feel joy and comfort in the way his children so effortlessly did.

Yet Thranduil knew what else his children would see should they visit him – bandages, weakness and pain. Three things that were sure to garner pity and pity for him was the one thing Thranduil could not bear to ever hear in the voices of his children. The bandages across his eyes would also be sure to raise comment and that was one thing Thranduil really did not want to get into with anyone just now.

Calelon's gentle voice sounded very near Thranduil interrupting the King's thoughts. "So what say you Aran-nin?"

"My answer remains the same Calelon, I want no visitors. Please just carry on with your procedures and let us get this over and done with."

Calelon sighed in defeat, "As you wish it Aran-nin, I've finished tending to your eyes and haven't much more to do on your lower face then I will move onto the rest of your body."

"Yes, just please continue as swiftly as you can, I tire of being prodded and poked. I just want some peace and a little time to myself to think."

"Of course Aran-nin," there was a small splash as Calelon wet a new cloth to use and Thranduil had to resist the urge to hiss as the cool, stinging cloth was pressed to his chin.

"I'm so sorry Aran-nin, this really would be easier if you would take some pain killers. You needn't even take the strong ones; you can take the ones the maethyr use on patrol - they are non-drowsy."

Gandalf snorted, "Just give him the strongest ones you've got Calelon, ignore Thranduil – wounds caused by dragon fire are among the most painful things one could ever suffer."

"You stay out of this Mithrandir, it has naught to with you. I tire of being drugged into oblivion."

"Sleep is good for you Oropherion – just now the more you get the better. Honestly why stay awake and be put through such pain? All for the sake of your pride? Is it worth the agony?"

"I said stay out of it Mithrandir! Why must you meddle? You cannot possibly know how much pain I am in or not. I think I am well able to ask for pain relief when I really need it – which right now I do not." Thranduil huffed at the Istar.

Gandalf sniffed, "Of course Oropherion; that is why you were clenching your teeth so hard when Calelon merely dabbed at your face."

Thranduil spluttered in shock rather than outrage. He had clenched his teeth, but not so hard that he thought anyone would be able to tell just by looking at his jawline.

As if reading his mind Gandalf continued, "Your left cheek now comprises of two pieces of sinew. I can see every time you clench you teeth in agony or bite your tongue to hold back a cry of pain. It is pointless to argue any further. Admit your pain, forsake your pride and take the painkillers."

Gandalf gentled his tone at the look of shock that appeared on the King's face at his words, "The sleep will do you good Oropherion."

"S…Sinew?" Thranduil questioned his voice sounding weak and scared even to his own ears. But he was scared – very scared. He had caught but a mere glimpse of how damaged his face was when he'd tried to wipe at his eye and had caused himself a whole deal of pain. It had felt like a portion of his face was missing but Thranduil had assumed that had been his fevered imagination running wild. He hadn't gotten to touch his face again since then but surely, surely his face was not so wrecked that Mithrandir could see straight through his cheek? Mithrandir exaggerated… right? Calelon had said he would need a strong glamour that was true but was he really so badly off that he had a hole in his face?

"Calelon you told me my face was quite bad…" The elven King struggled for words, "How…how…what do you mean? What does my face look like? What do you mean Mithrandir that I have only sinew where my cheek once was? What exactly has happened to my face?!"

Calelon threw an annoyed look over at the grey wizard; he really felt Mithrandir could have used a bit more tact and care with his words. Now it would be up to him to break the news to Thranduil of just how much of a mess his face really was as best he could. It was honestly a talk he had wanted to deal with later – much later. Not now when he was still trying to get Thranduil to see sense and take something for his pain.

Calelon sighed – it was fast becoming a habit. "Your face is…well do you wish me to be blunt Aran-nin?"

Fear tightened its grip on Thranduil's heart but he gave a small nod and almost whispered his answer. "Yes. Tell me everything Calelon – hold nothing back."

"Very well Aran-nin, truth be told your face is a complete wreck," Calelon began unhappily before he launched into a full description of his King's ruined face.

Thranduil was silent throughout the entire description as he struggled to imagine his new looks. Right then he wished for nothing more than to be able to see – so he could inspect every inch of his face in morbid curiosity. Thranduil had never been vain about his looks (he took far more pride in his jewellery and hair) though he knew he was considered handsome; it would take some time to get used to seeing a beastly, orc like face in the mirror going forward. For that was what Thranduil imagined his new visage to resemble.

The elven King let out a weary, shaky breath. He would definitely not be inviting either Rithel or Legolas nor anyone else for that matter to visit him. Not until he got this glamour spell Calelon spoke of down to a fine art.

"So you said I would need a glamour spell Calelon, are you certain there is one strong enough to cover the multitude of sins that is now my face?" Thranduil honestly felt like crying the more he thought about it. What if there was no spell strong enough to help him cover up? He would most certainly have to sail then.

"Yes there will be a spell strong enough but I shall have to work on it. The glamour spells I know right now are on a smaller scale – you need a spell infinitely stronger and I shall need some time to study it and fine tune it before I can teach it to you."

Thranduil didn't feel entirely re-assured by that answer; while he was glad to know there was a strong enough spell out there he was dismayed that Calelon did not know it or hadn't even found it as yet for that matter. He wanted to get this part of his recovery out of the way sooner rather than later. The elven King would not be able to turn away visitors indefinitely so the sooner he learned a way to mask his disfigured looks the better.

"How long do you think it will take you find and learn such a spell Calelon?"

The healer blew out an exasperated breath even as he begun to wrap a fresh length of bandage over Thranduil's lower face signifying the end of that part of the King's treatment.

"I am unsure Aran-nin, in all honesty medicine rather than magic is my forte – I should have to seek outside help – perhaps from one of the Avari. They are rather proficient in magic after all. Right now though my priority is to get your sight back fully in your right eye and get your body healed and out of this bed so you can begin your rehabilitation. Your looks can come after as far as I am concerned."

Thranduil felt a small surge of anger shoot through him at the remark, "Well Calelon I am sorry to say your priorities and concerns do not line up with mine. I want you to start working on that spell today – once you've finished with me here." Calelon made a noise as though he were going to protest but Thranduil pressed on, "Nay Calelon you will listen to me. I know you think me vain for prioritising my looks but it is not so – just think for a moment – I shall not be able to keep visitors from my door forever. Yet I tell you I shall not consent to a single one being let in to see me whilst I look like this, so the sooner we find an appropriate glamour spell the better. Otherwise I shall leave it to you to keep my concerned visitors at bay and provide them explanations as to why they cannot see me."

Calelon threw an aggrieved look at his King even though he knew the blonde could not see it as he thought of the futility and stress it would cause him to continually try to keep Princess Rithel, Lord Arahaelon, Prince Legolas, Crown Commander Aglardaer, Thranduil's Elite personal guard and countless others from being able to see the King over a prolonged period of time.

"Aran-nin please be reasonable – your face is covered in bandages – none will see what is beneath should they visit you. You really ought to just focus on getting your strength back and learning to cope with your visual handicap. I thi-"

"How Calelon how?!" Thranduil interrupted. "How am I supposed to focus on my rehabilitation and feel like I am getting better when I know there is a hole in my face? A hole Calelon! How will my visitors be able to believe me when I say I am on the mend if they still see my entire face swathed in bandages? What good is it if I gain my strength and complete my rehabilitation only to be unable to return to my throne as I have no way with which to disguise my now gruesome features?"

Thranduil paused and took a moment to regain his breath and swallow past a throat that was once again sore due to his little outburst. The elven King tried his best to find his centre again and calm himself – it was unfair of him to yell so at Calelon – none of this was his fault after all.

Thranduil let himself sink further back into his pillows, gave a deep sigh and when he spoke again his voice was a mere hoarse whisper. "Calelon…I…I am sorry…it is just…how am I supposed to recover and feel normal again when I know my face looks so hideously abnormal?"

Thranduil felt Gandalf give an undamaged part of his arm a comforting squeeze but he felt anything but comforted. Perhaps he was a bit vain with his looks after all. This was all proving too much – the thought of having to simply make do and live with his ruined face for the foreseeable future on top of everything he had still to face and overcome felt like a weight that would crush Thranduil completely.

Distantly Thranduil heard Aiwendil clear his throat but paid no attention, mired in his dark thoughts as he was.

"There is no need to be so down in the dumps about your face Thranduil." Radagast spoke for the first time since he'd entered the room.

The elven King cocked his head in the direction of Aiwendil's voice and the brown wizard suddenly found him the centre of attention of all in the room as his fellow wizard and the Royal healer both paused to look at him.

Radagast startled at the attention and fumbled with the small jar he had in his hands then, dropped it and looked down at the fragments in dismay before he began to mutter in a distressed manner under his breath and he bent to scoop them up.

"Never mind about the jar now Radagast," Gandalf had a feeling his fellow had been about to say something significant. "Why do you tell Thranduil not to worry about his face?"

The brown wizard looked up from his squat on the floor, "Oh why that's easy Gandalf. I have a spell. The perfect one too – very powerful, very powerful indeed Gandalf."

Thranduil struggled to sit up a bit more at those words, "Is it a glamour spell you speak of Aiwendil? One that will help my cover the damage done to my face?"

For Thranduil did not doubt the Istar knew a great many powerful spells but did he really have one that would help Thranduil camouflage his dire facial wounds? Aiwendil did tend to get rather muddled up and forgetful sometimes and Thranduil didn't dare get his hopes up too high before he made sure.

"Oh yes Thranduil, I use it to help protect and hide my rabbits and other animals from the orcs and other nasty creatures in the Woods. Just one small change to the words of the spell and it will ensure your face looks nothing but perfect Thranduil."

Thranduil let out a relieved breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and he heard Aiwendil move closer.

"I can teach it to you now if you like."

Calelon interrupted then, "That is wonderful news Aiwendil but please you must allow me to finish my work here before you attempt to teach Aran Thranduil anything. I have only tended to his face thus far and I really must finish."

"Oh," Radagast sounded somewhat surprised before he strolled back to finish work on the new painkillers for his blonde friend. "Of course, of course Calelon. Do as you must. I will teach you later Thranduil – after I check on my rabbits."

"Hannon-le Aiwendil, I am in your debt." Thranduil's heartfelt gratitude was clear in his voice.

"Yes, yes, yes." Radagast waved away the thanks embarrassed and delved back into his work.

Gandalf chuckled at his fellow's antics and gave Thranduil's arm another fond squeeze, pleased that Thranduil's demeanour was no longer as dour and despairing as it had been before Radagast's timely interruption.

The grey wizard turned to Thranduil, "Well now that that is sorted Oropherion will you be still and cease in making Calelon's job quite so difficult?"

Thranduil made an indignant sound and did not even deign to answer the grey wizard but instead inclined his head to where he last heard his healer's voice, "You may proceed Calelon."

"Thank you Aran-nin though I must ask again, can I convince you to take some of the non-drowsy painkillers?"

Thranduil held back a sigh – so they were back to this again?

"You have done well so far that is true but cleaning and re-bandaging the larger wounds on your body will take a great deal more time and will most likely cause you a great deal more pain than the ones on your face as they are spread over a much larger area."

Thranduil blanched at the thought – in all honesty having his face tended to had been agonising enough – surely the pain could get no worse? Yet he was still nervous that if he opted for painkillers Calelon would go back on his word and slip him ones that would put him to sleep.

Dark images of dragons, burning trees and melting flesh flashed through his mind and Thranduil steeled himself. He did not want to go to sleep. Not just yet when the memories of his last horrifying nightmares were still so fresh.

"I am fine Calelon, do as you must. As I said before I can handle it."

~o~

He most certainly could not handle it.

Thranduil supressed yet another groan – he'd never been more wrong in all his long life. He had grossly miscalculated the amount of pain that would result from Calelon's ministrations. Even the slightest touch sent pain searing through Thranduil's too sore, burnt skin. The water Calelon was using to clean his larger wounds felt as though it was pure high grade acid rather than the refreshing, cooling liquid it was meant to be and the salve was even worse. It didn't soothe and ease his hurts like Calelon and Aiwendil had promised it would. It stung even more fiercely than the water and made the King want to curl into a small ball and never move again.

And Valar! How it hurt to move – even breathing was beginning to become a chore with the way his skin protested every little movement with fierce agony.

Calelon was being really very gentle with him; Thranduil knew the Royal healer was doing his utmost not jostle or move him about too much. Yet after what seemed like a long, agonising age Calelon eventually came to the point where he'd fully dealt with all the raw, open wounds on Thranduil's chest, torso, hips and upper thighs. It was time for the wounds that could not be tended to by Thranduil lying on his back. And then the elven King had had no choice but to move; and even with the slow, careful, coaxing movements Calelon and Mithrandir employed it was absolute torture for Thranduil.

The slow and gentle move to get the King into an upright position so that the burns that snaked round onto his back could be tended left Thranduil a pained and weakly panting mess. The room spun in the most horrifying and disturbing manner – the floor and ceiling switching places several times – and Thranduil had to force back a dizzying wave of nausea.

The blonde felt really rather glad that he hadn't really had anything to eat since first awakening after the battle, for it would all have come up at that moment in a rather undignified manner and Thranduil felt sure he wouldn't have been able to stop it. He was having plenty enough trouble holding back the bile that kept rising in his throat with each sickening lurch his stomach gave.

Calelon, Mithrandir and even Aiwendil all looked at the elf King in grave and clear concern and though Thranduil felt as though he had several pairs of eyes on him (even if he could not see them) he paid them no mind. The blonde was too busy trying to centre himself again and keep the bile from rushing up his throat. His body ached fiercely, his stomach roiled rebelliously and with each minute that passed Thranduil felt his mind get more and more clouded by pain. His grip on reality was slipping little by little without the King even realising it.

"I think now would be the best time for those non-drowsy pain killers Aran-nin." Calelon spoke up concernedly as he eyed Thranduil's suddenly ashen white skin. Clearly the move had taken a lot more than expected out of his King.

Calelon watched as Thranduil shook his head but before the healer could so much as groan in exasperation he saw the King rear forward suddenly, hands flying up over his nearly fully bandaged mouth as he made a retching noise.

Instantly aware of what was about to happen Calelon was there, small chamber pot at the ready and he held his King steady, "It's ok Aran-nin I'm here."

Thranduil gagged and retched again before he swallowed desperate to stop himself from being sick; yet his tortured body had clearly had enough and gave in with the next nauseating flip his stomach made. He vomited violently, vaguely aware of an arm round him but only just. He was far more aware of the tight pain of his stomach clenching in the most painful manner as it emptied itself and of the vile taste of blood and bile combined. His tight, burned skin too protested his jerky, heaving movements as Thranduil gagged repeatedly until at last there was nothing left.

The King collapsed backwards onto his pillows in utter exhaustion, mind completely hazed by pain.

~o~

He could hear voices – they seemed distant and faraway – and Thranduil felt panic seize him. His maethyr, those were the voices of his maethyr were they not? His Elite. Why did they sound so far away? Thranduil looked round him wildly, forced himself to sit up a little – he would not let that beast separate him and cut him off – not again.

Just then Thranduil felt something brush him, touch him and he jerked back violently.

"Do not – do not touch me!" Thranduil reached for his sword but was dismayed to find it missing. Still he held his hands up in a combative stance, steadfastly ignoring the pain that flared in them. "Stay away serpent!"

Calelon pulled his hands away from his King in surprise at the sudden change in demeanour and shared a concerned glance with both Mithrandir and Aiwendil.

"Aran-nin sîdh, sîdh please. You are safe try not to be alarmed."

Gandalf took a step closer to Thranduil and laid a gentle arm on his tense shoulders, "You can relax and calm down Oropherion. You are here, safe in your halls and you are well."

Thranduil jumped as the fire serpent dared to touch him again and he snarled, "How do you know my name? I said stay away!"

With those angry words the blonde violently jerked himself backwards and to the side and very nearly fell off the bed as result. Calelon was there in an instant reaching out to steady his King before he took a nasty fall.

"Help me Mithrandir I need him to be still, Aiwendil bring me the strongest painkillers we've got – ones with the quickest sedative effects. Please both of you quickly."

For it was now clear to Calelon that Thranduil's grip on reality had slipped completely and that the blonde was in the throes of delirium. Promises be damned – it was more than time that the Royal healer administered some pain relief to his agonised King.

Yet Mithrandir holding Thranduil down whilst Calelon tried to secure him to the bed seemed to have been the worst move they could have made as Thranduil really began to struggle then, to fight them in earnest and scream.

"Unhand me miserable worm – I will not succumb to you – not so easily. My warriors are nearby and you do not wish to anger them so unhand me servant of Darkness!" Thranduil struggled then panicked as he felt the dragon's claws tighten round him and hold him in place all the tighter.

"Duron! Arodon!" Thranduil struggled harder to free himself and felt his skin, which was tight and painful for some reason he could not fathom, break and begin to bleed.

"Arthon! Aglardaer please! Anno dulu enni!" Thranduil screamed out for his Elite – he cared not how weak and cowardly he looked at that moment shouting for others to aid him. He simply wanted to be free of his serpentine prison.

The healer and Istari in the room were horrified. Thranduil was completely and utterly delusional and quite clearly thought himself back on the scorched battlefield.

Calelon steadied his grip on his King before shouting back at Aiwendil, "Do hurry and bring that dratted potion here already Aiwendil before Aran Thranduil really hurts himself." The healer looked down at bandages that were slowly colouring red under the firm grip of both he and Mithrandir and felt deep pain sear his heart at the sight. "Please, please hurry!"

Thranduil for his part just screamed; raw and pained and dreadful. His Elite were gone – no doubt murdered by the same miserable worm that had him trapped now. He was alone. He was alone and he was on fire – his skin burned fiercely and he hurt with a pain that seemed soul deep and Thranduil knew he was being consumed.

Consumed by a dragon's dark flames. The elven King screamed.

~o~

Calelon sat in Thranduil's bedside chair as he tried and failed to nurse hot cup of chamomile tea. His hands shook badly, sending the hot liquid sloshing dangerously about the cup and in the end he simply set it down and clasped his hands together tightly in the hope that they would stop shaking.

They didn't.

And Calelon didn't think they would stop anytime soon – at least not whilst he had Thranduil's dreadful screams and panicked, gurgling shouts still ringing round in his mind. The Royal healer failed to suppress a shudder even as he glanced at the now peacefully sleeping figure in the bed as he recalled how Thranduil had very nearly choked to death as they had tried to administer the powerful painkiller and sedative that Aiwendil had brought over.

Calelon rubbed a tired hand over his face. The morning's events were not ones that would fade from his memory anytime soon.

Gently he reached a still trembling hand out to push a stray strand of hair from Thranduil's re-bandaged and now slack face. Calelon sighed aloud – once Thranduil had succumbed to sleep he had had to re-do all his hard work. Cleaning and re-bandaging all of Thranduil's wounds which had opened again due the blonde's frantic trashing brought on by his hallucinations.

Calelon sighed again – deep and weary, "He looks so peaceful now yet I feel guilty. I broke my promise to my King and he will be furious when he awakens."

The Royal healer's grey clad companion snorted, "Your King is a fool. You should have listened to me instead and drugged him long before." Seeing the other's crestfallen expression Gandalf gentled his tone, "Still, never mind all that now – what's done is done and it was done for the best. How deeply have you put him under? How long do you think he will remain asleep?"

Calelon clasped his shaking hands in front his face, "I put him under quite deep. Unless I call him back first he will be asleep for at least a full week before he awakens again."

Calelon stared at his pale, scrubbed-clean-from-blood, trembling hands as he rested them in his lap. He and Mithrandir had decided it would be best if Calelon forced the King's fëa deep into sleep in order to give his body time to heal and give his mind much needed respite from the memories that so clearly haunted him. Calelon really hadn't wanted to go to such an extreme but found that he couldn't argue against the benefits such a deep and prolonged rest would bring to his King.

Slowly and reverently Calelon crossed his heart even as he murmured fervent prayers to Elebereth under his breath.

Hopefully the next time Thranduil awakened he would be lucid and in a much better state of mind and health.

Hopefully when next the King awakened most of his sight would be returned to his right eye.

Hopefully. Hopefully. Hopefully.

TBC.

Riel – Princess

Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King

Eledhrim – Elves

Ellon – Male elf

Sîdh – Peace

Suilad – Greetings

Istar – Quenya for Wizard

Istari – (Plural of Istar) – Quenya for Wizards

Adar – Father

Ernil – Prince

Lasseg – Little Leaf – Family nickname for Legolas

Maethyr – (plural) Warriors

Hannon-le – Thank you

Anno dulu enni – Help me

Fëa – Soul (Quenya)

A/N: So a completely Thranduil-centric chapter here and I think there will be more like this as we go on – but fear not I have gotten over my need to torture the poor ellon now and so next chapter we should see him making progress. Yay! Thank you guys for sticking with this fic (and me) I appreciate it so much. Also – I know I said this would be no more than eight chapters but I think there will be a bit more than that now – it won't be Friendship Amidst Loss style epic – but still more than I initially anticipated. And for those reading FAL – I'm working on it – I'm just stuck on a bit of dialogue and can't seem to move past it – I'm taking it in to my lovely beta Karleen for some help this weekend so I promise I'm working on it! And as ever thanks for reading :)