Thranduil started at the small flare of pain in his face that jerked him free of the empty blankness he'd been rather happily and sleepily floating around in. The pain started off dully but quickly increased with every moment as the blonde felt himself being dragged upward into full awareness. He flailed and struggled against it; with every moment of increased awareness came increased pain. No longer a dull ache simply confined to his face, the pain had spread all down his left side and now burned and stung with fierce intensity. Thranduil willed himself back down into his previous blank oblivion but it was clear his consciousness had different ideas as it continued to slowly drag him into wakefulness.

With a deep pained groan Thranduil gave in, intent on finding out the reason his face and entire left side burned as though he bathed in one of the caustic lakes of the South. Pain and blackness greeted him as he came fully awake and memory returned in a rush to the Elf King.

Dragons, the ensuing battle, flames, excruciating pain, blindness.

Thranduil's most recent memories flooded his mind before he gasped aloud as the pain from his injuries flared fully to life and screamed at him as they forced the horrors of his memory into the background as nothing but the pain took hold of Thranduil's every sense.

"Are you awake Aran-nin? Be still, I have something for you – it will help I promise. Give me but a minute."

"Ca…" a hacking, rough cough interrupted Thranduil before he tried again. "Ca…Calelon?"

"Yes Aran-nin it is me – I have something that will aid you right here."

In the next moment Thranduil felt himself being slowly and gently propped into a slightly more upright position; both his head and stomach roiled furiously in rebellion at the action but thankfully Thranduil just managed to resist the urge to heave and retch and he swallowed down the bile that had threatened to make its way up his throat.

The rim of a cool glass was pressed to the blonde's lips before the royal healer spoke again, "This will help with the pain you are doubtlessly in. Sip it slowly - and worry not – it is powerful so there is no need for you to have to choke down a whole mugful of medicine. Tis only a small amount."

Gathering everything in him Thranduil raised his hand to push the glass from his lips. He remembered the terrifying and terrible nightmares he had had when last he'd been drugged, and though he'd not dreamt this last time he had been asleep for whatever reason he was loathe to push his luck and be put to sleep again.

"I…I have…I have slept enough Calelon."

A deep grumbling voice from his right caused the Elven King to startle in surprise, "Not this again Oropherion; your taking of painkillers is not up for debate here. Not this time."

Calelon cut in before Thranduil could so much as turn his head in the direction of Mithrandir's voice. "You needn't worry over this painkiller forcing you to sleep Aran-nin; I too agree you have slept enough for now. Ten days in fact has it been since you were last awake and in that time Aiwendil and I have perfected a powerful yet non-drowsy, non-mind addling painkiller. Trust me – it will help."

"Ten days?" Thranduil gasped out partly in horror at the fact but mostly due to the steadily increasing pain that burned and thrummed in time with the rhythm of his heart.

"It was much needed rest Oropherion – for both fëa and hröa. Now please cease in your stalling and fussing and take the painkiller. Both Calelon and Radagast have put much into it for your sake."

Thranduil said nothing to that, only held out a slightly trembling hand for the small glass of medicine. He was really rather tired of both the intensely searing pain and being such a complete invalid. He brought the tiny glass up to his nose and gave a sniff before pulling away abruptly at the sickeningly sharp scent of whatever herb had been used in it. Thranduil did not really trust either Mithrandir or Calelon when they promised that the drug would only dull his pain and not send him back into the dark sleep of night terrors but he quickly swallowed the bitter liquid regardless. He'd sooner face his nightmares than deal with a minute more of the horrific agony that currently wracked his body in ever increasing waves.

~o~

Some ten minutes later Thranduil gave the fingers of his left hand a curious and slight flex and was surprisingly pleased to note the action did not send agony tearing through his veins. In fact all of him –even his face that had ached and burned with a bone deep intensity had ceased in hurting him. And wonder of all wonders he did not feel even slightly sleepy nor addled – it seemed the Elven King had finally found an instance where a healer and a wizard had been honest with him.

As though reading his thoughts Calelon chose that moment to speak up, "So how do you feel now Aran-nin? The medicine should have fully kicked in by now; do you still have any pain? Aiwendil and I are confident in the medicine but we might yet have to alter the dosage."

"The dosage is fine Calelon – hannon-le. I feel much better now – no longer as though I am burning from the inside out."

The royal healer said nothing to that last comment, only exchanged a knowing and worried look with the grey wizard who sat at Thranduil's other side in an exchange the Elven King could not see.

Calelon held back a sigh at the worry he could see reflected back at him in the eyes of the Istar and turned his attention back to his patient. "That is good to hear. I am glad to have judged it well – you must let me know when you need a top up."

"Hn," Thranduil gave a non-committal grunt – the medicine had been exceptionally vile and he was in no great hurry to taste it again. He hoped it was fairly long lasting.

"Well then," Calelon clapped his hands together, "I think it is about high time you had a bit of proper sustenance."

The rim of another glass was held to Thranduil's lips and again he gathered his frail strength to raise his arm and push it away.

"I do not require feeding like some elfling child Calelon – as you saw not too long ago I am well capable of holding a glass on my own."

"This is a considerably larger glass - with all due respect Aran-nin the medicine was served in a shot glass."

If Thranduil's eyes had not been bandaged the glare he sent Calelon's way would have frozen Orodruin. As it was the blonde realised the futility of his actions and gave a loud and put upon sigh instead before he lifted his hand once more. "Just give me the glass Calelon. I am actually quite famished."

"Oh that is good – it's a good sign that you have a return of appetite. Very good indeed, but you must not let it get the better of you. Slow sips only Aran-nin and the minute you feel full or nauseas you can put it aside." Calelon gently took hold of Thranduil's hand and guided it to the bedside table, "The table is just here should you wish to rest the glass down."

The action was a kindness on Calelon's part but only served to remind Thranduil of his lack of sight and status as an invalid and the Elf King saw red momentarily as he again railed against his circumstances, his injuries and the so called ever watchful and helpful Valar. He gathered himself after a moment however, nodded his thanks and understanding to Calelon before he motioned for the glass.

Calelon obliged and Thranduil pulled the sweet, fruity smelling drink up to his lips. He knew even without asking what is was that Calelon fed him. It was a recipe common among his warriors; those who had been grievously injured and found themselves unable to eat or abide solid foods. A thick and nearly smooth drink prepared with berries, a leafy green for the added protein, minerals and fibre and just a drop of milk and honey to thin and sweeten. It was a balanced and nutritious meal in the form of an easy to swallow drink that was made for the truly badly off.

Thranduil ignored the implication of him being offered the drink and instead simply sipped at it slowly as he savoured the taste of his favourite fruit – strawberry.

"Come Mithrandir, are you still there? You have been most quiet – tell me what I have missed during my ten day slumber." Thranduil directed his request and a small smile in the direction he had last heard the Istar before he continued with his drink.

Mithrandir's low rumbling voice soon filled the room as he gave Thranduil a brief round-up of Woodland news and assured the Elven King that his realm still stood before he moved onto inconsequential chatter and idle palace gossip.

~o~

"I must say I really am rather pleased with your progress Aran-nin. It seems that deep sleep really has done you a world of good." Calelon's smile was clear for Thranduil to hear as the healer finished with bandaging his neck. "Your wounds look so much better; they have improved day on day."

"How much longer would you say?"

"How much longer what Aran-nin?"

"Until my wounds are healed, until you must no longer swathe me head to toe in bandages, until I must no longer be drugged to kingdom come simply to be able to sit up in bed. How much longer?"

Thranduil was displeased and slight panic flared in him as he heard Calelon sigh before he spoke.

"There is no true time frame I can give you Aran-nin. You know the evil that was in the fire that burned you – these wounds…will never truly heal. Sure they will eventually close up as best they can but you know that you will be left with scarring…"

It was Thranduil's turn to sigh as he interrupted, "Yes, yes – the scarring I am well aware of that – the wounds will scar. Fine. I can cope with that. How much longer until I get to that stage?"

Calelon sighed again – a defeated and slightly frustrated sound that did nothing to dispel the unease that knotted Thranduil's stomach.

"As I said before, your wounds are now healing nicely – if you continue with proper treatment and rest along with the re-introduction of food then within the next week all of your wounds should be closed up and scarred over. Indeed the smaller ones have already begun to do so. But…" another heavy sigh, "that does not mean they are healed, that will not be the end of it. It is not as simple as that with wounds caused by dragon fire I'm afraid."

"What are you saying Calelon? Cease in speaking in circles and just spit it out. My wounds will close and scar – why does this not classify as healing?"

"Because there will still be pain Oropherion." Mithrandir reached out a kind hand, placed it upon Thranduil's right arm and gave a gentle squeeze, "There will always be pain. Every place you have been burned will forever be a source of pain to you; a deep and burning ache I have heard it described as, as though you burn from the inside out. Tis the curse of the serpent's fiery breath and there is no cure – not this side of the Seas."

"So…so you are saying I must sail after all?" Thranduil was reeling. He had only just decided that perhaps he was just strong enough to stay and fight for his health and the return to his throne and now this?

"Nay!" Calelon sounded just as horrified as he had before when Thranduil had spoken previously of sailing. "Nay, you will not have to sail – Mithrandir thinks he has found a way – something that will perhaps help you keep the pain to a tolerable level. And I myself am still looking, still researching – there has not been much work and study done into the aftermath and wounds of dragon fire, as so very few have survived it but I will do all I can. I promise you this Aran-nin, so please just put the thought of sailing from your mind. Just give us a bit more time."

Thranduil felt Mithrandir give another gently reassuring squeeze of his arm. "Forget all that for now Oropherion – Calelon speaks truly when he says we will do all we can to help you manage the complications from your wounds. Your job just now is to do as he says, take what medicines that are put before you and rest. Leave the rest to us. Worry about it no more for now and let Calelon finish his work."

"Yes Aran-nin we are nearly done – I only need change the bandages on your face and check your eyes. Then I will cease in poking and prodding you for today."

Thranduil nodded dumbly not really listening as he thought through the further revelation about the wounds he had received.

There will always be pain.

That was what Mithrandir had ever so sadly said and Thranduil felt a surge of emotion storm through him. Rage at yet more unjust suffering he would be forced to shoulder, trepidation at the thought that he would be forever forced to deal with the kind of burning ache he'd experienced earlier and fear over his Kingdom. For surely if he had to face that level of pain everyday he would go mad if he did not sail. Yes, he was fine now with the painkillers Calelon had given him but he could not remain drugged forever – the effectiveness of the drug would wane overtime, he'd build a resistance to it and then what? What would become of him? Of his Realm? Of his people?

Had he really fought so desperately to save his Woodland home and his eledhrim only to be defeated by injury and pain in the end? Thranduil felt like shouting, crying, screaming and silently giving up all at once. This whole ordeal really was proving to be too much for him; it had been folly for him to think that perhaps he was strong enough to overcome.

"…an-nin?"

Thranduil was shaken from his despair by Calelon's enquiring voice and Mithrandir's firm tapping of his right arm.

"Come. Come Oropherion – are you with us? Calelon wishes to check your eyes now and we will need to know what you can see."

His eyes – how could he have forgotten his eyes? Yet another misery to add to his ever growing list. With a resigned sigh Thranduil gave himself a small shake and firmly brought himself into the present.

"My apologies, I was…thinking."

Mithrandir harrumphed, "More like worrying after I specifically told you not to. I do have something in mind Oropherion…well more of a someone but the fact remains I have a plan to help you manage any future pain. You might try to trust me a little."

Thranduil found he was far too tense to take Mithrandir's bait and be goaded into a distracting argument. He was now anxious to know what he'd be able to see (if anything at all), and depending on that answer Thranduil would cement his decision on whether he would sail or not.

"Do as you may Calelon. I am ready."

"Ok Aran-nin I will start with the left eye first. I need to know exactly what you can see."

Cool fingers begun to gently unwind bandage after bandage from around Thranduil's face and the Elven King felt the freshness of the air upon his damaged skin. It stung a little at first, particularly near his (non-existent) cheek but it was a pain easily ignored as Calelon finally begun to loosen the bandages that had been secured around his eyes.

Thranduil was tense and held his breath as he felt the last of the bandages slip free from over his left eye.

"Open your eye Aran-nin, tell me – is there any difference? Any improvement to your sight in your left eye?"

Thranduil slowly prised his left eye open and despite knowing deep down he would see naught but darkness it was still a rather crushing blow to have his blindness fully confirmed to him. For if ten days of deep healing sleep had not helped then nothing ever would.

With great force of will to keep the desperate disappointment from his voice Thranduil answered. "I see naught in this eye. It remains as dark as ever. I am blinded – you yourself said I would never see with it again Calelon."

"Aye that I did Aran-nin but I still had to check. I am sorry if I raised any false expectations."

"There were no expectations on my part – not for this eye."

Calelon heaved a sigh before he placed gentle hands upon Thranduil's face once more. "Shall we do the other then?"

The whisper of fabric against Thranduil's cheek told the blonde the final bandage had been removed. "What can you see Aran-nin?"

Calelon had sounded breathless with nervousness as he'd asked the question and even Mithrandir's comforting arm on his had tightened and tensed. Yet neither of them could possibly feel as anxious as Thranduil did in that moment as he steeled himself to open his eye. The Elf King did not know how he would feel if his desperate hopes for sight in at least this eye were also crushed. He did know what he would do however should he be met with darkness again. He would sail – the Woodland Realm could not have and did not deserve a cripple for a King.

Slowly ever so slowly Thranduil opened his right eye.

And mercy of all mercies he found that he could see.

He could see.

He could see.

He could see.

Praise whichever of the Valar that had finally taken pity on him. Thranduil could see.

True, his sight was not clear – it was a bit hazy and everything was blurred around the edges but he could see. He could see both Calelon directly in front of him and Mithrandir to his right. He could see the room he lay in and through the big bay windows he could see the trees and sky beyond and as blurry as they were the sight was enough to move the Elven King to tears. Tears of pure unadulterated joy.

He would not have to give up his Kingdom and sail away in misery and defeat. He had been given a second chance and Thranduil would grab it with both hands; he would stay and fight. Fight his way back to full health and victory, fight his way back to his rightful place upon his throne. The fire serpents would not defeat him.

Thranduil let out a shaky trembling breath he had not realised he'd been holding.

"I can see."

~o~

The next half hour passed in a blur of contented joy for Thranduil. Despite having his still rather painful wounds on his face cleaned and tended too, despite Calelon telling him there had been no improvement to his looks and likely never would be (and refusing him a mirror to see for himself), despite Calelon replacing the bandages over his good eye and leaving him in the dark once more Thranduil could not help but feel happy. He still had half his sight; it would clear up and get sharper over the next few days until he would no longer have to bandage his eyes. He still had a long recovery ahead of him but with his sight coming back to him he could do it. Thranduil was determined.

So determined in fact that when Calelon had finally tucked the last of his facial bandages into place and fed him another dose of painkillers Thranduil asked for Aiwendil to be brought up to his room.

"I want to get started on this glamour – I can learn it as I lay here and wait for my sight to improve. For once that happens I want out of this bed. If I make the most of my time now I can learn how to cast and hold this glamour in place ready for when my sight is completely restored to me."

Thranduil could hear the grey wizard shuffle to his right before he grumbled, "You are meant to be resting Oropherion – nothing will get any better if you do not rest. Can you not see it was your enforced ten day slumber that brought about all this healing in the first place?"

Gandalf was trying so very hard to be stern with the blonde but he was failing badly – still so happy to see that his long-time friend and verbal sparring partner would not be forced to sail before his time after all.

Still though Thranduil really did need the rest and the Istar tried to be a little more threatening, "If you do not take the rest you need yourself Oropherion Calelon will have no choice but to force you back into sleep once more."

Thranduil was unperturbed, "Calelon will do no such thing Mithrandir, lest he wish to spend the rest of his days in the dungeons. And you will do no such thing either Mithrandir lest I bar you from my Woods forevermore."

The Elven King was grinning so hard that it had to be painful for him, bearing in mind his facial wounds, but it was a sight for sore eyes that had Gandalf transfixed and failing to respond for the moment. He was just so happy for Thranduil – he really had been worried for him and of course his children and the Woodland Realm. Thranduil was the soul and driving force of the Wood and was very much still needed on this side of the Seas.

The Istar could not stop a smile of his own as he teased back, "Is that truly how you would treat those who have pulled you back from the brink?" Gandalf harrumphed, "Tis very poor behaviour indeed Oropherion – what would your Naneth say?"

Thranduil barked a laugh at that – a deep and joyous sound that was too rarely heard in Gandalf's opinion - before he spoke again, "I hear and will heed you Mithrandir."

Thranduil's voice grew serious as he shifted his head round in Calelon's general direction to include the royal healer in his next words. "I am beyond appreciative of the work you both along with the aid of Aiwendil have done to help save my life and my sight. I am grateful more than words can ever say and should you ever need aught from me that is within my power to give you need only say the word and it shall be yours; for never will I ever be able to thank you enough."

"I know the road ahead of me is still a long one that will be fraught with many challenges to overcome, but I am determined I will do so. I fought to protect my people and I will now fight to get back to my throne and be the King they deserve. I promise you I will heed all you have to say to me – I'll not undo all your good work now. I will not overdo it with trying to learn this glamour but I do want to learn at least the basics of it straight away. If I can learn this and get it out of the way I will already be that much further down the path of recovery."

Calelon gave his King's good right hand a kind squeeze, "I have already sent for Aiwendil Aran-nin and he will be here shortly. But please do keep to your word and do not overreach yourself today in trying to learn this glamour all in one go. Glamours such as the one you wish to learn require powerful magic behind them and though I know you are one of the most powerful wielders of magic in the entire realm please remember all you have recently been through. Your magic stores will be low to non-existent right now so please do not try anything like actually attempting to uphold the glamour today."

"Calelon is right Oropherion – heed him."

Thranduil turned his head to sigh in the wizard's direction, "Have I not just promised I would heed you both? I will not attempt to uphold the glamour today. I just want Aiwendil to explain the spell to me, talk me through it step by step and perhaps teach me the words if there are any. Nothing strenuous at all I promise."

"Good – see that you keep that promise."

There was a knock at the door and the sound it being opened before Aiwendil's familiar smell of hay and rabbits hit Thranduil.

"You, you called for me Thranduil? Does the painkiller not work? Oh dear, oh dear I was so sure, so sure that it would work. I have something else. I have another idea for a potion, I –"

Thranduil cut the brown wizard off before his worry could get any more frantic. "I did call for you Aiwendil – le fael for coming so swiftly. You needn't worry over the painkiller you so kindly made for me – it works just fine and I am really ever so grateful."

Thranduil reached out his right hand for the brown wizard which Radagast happily took and listened in rapt relief as the blonde in the bed before him assured him that the medicine he'd worked so hard on served its purpose well – just as it should – and that more than that his sight was rapidly returning in his right eye. Radagast listened and felt some knot of unease untie within him as Thranduil's words and underlying joy washed over him. He was glad for his friend and for the Woodland realm – for without Thranduil Radagast knew the Kingdom he had come to call his own home would swiftly fall.

The brown wizard's happy musings were cut-off as his blonde friend made a request.

"You said you had a glamour that would help me cover the sin that is now my face Aiwendil. Will you teach it to me?"

Radagast looked up at both Calelon and Gandalf unsure if he could comply with the request put to him.

"You are fine to start talking him through it Aiwendil. Just be sure he does not start to actually try to uphold the glamour. Aran Thranduil is not yet strong enough to perform such powerful magic."

"Indeed," Thranduil agreed much to the brown Istar's surprise, "I do only want you to talk me through it – how it works, what I will need to do to uphold it once I am strong enough, how it will affect me magically – will it drain me completely? That sort of a thing. We'll not actually do anything for now – I have promised both my Naneths here." And Thranduil gave a cheeky smirk which saw Calelon roll his eyes and Gandalf huff and gather up his robes as he made for the door.

"I will leave you both to it. I shall visit you later Oropherion. Navaer."

"I too shall take my leave of you – you should find it easier to concentrate Aran-nin without my pottering around to distract you. I shan't be too far though – send for me should either of you need aught."

The door gave a gentle click as it shut behind Gandalf and the royal healer and Radagast turned his full attention back upon Thranduil.

"R-right," Radagast licked his lips, "This is a powerful spell Thranduil, very powerful indeed. I use it to keep my rabbits safe you know. Safe from the enemy. It is called Hall Thurin – yes, yes, yes, it is one of the strongest spells I know. It will help you, it will, I know it."

~o~

Rithel resisted the urge to rub at her temples to lessen the increasing pounding there. She was coming to understand very well why her Adar would have a glass or seven after (and sometimes during) council sessions. And though this was not even a council session it was quickly proving just as exasperating.

The silver haired Princess looked longingly at the bottle of Dorwinion on a far off cupboard that glinted in the light of the bright summer's day that spilled in through the windows before she gave herself a firm shake. Drinking during meetings was unbecoming – she had told her Adar so numerous times – it would not do for her to be a hypocrite now. But still…Rithel glared balefully round the room at all the ellyn who were wholeheartedly invested in their own arguments and steadfastly ignoring her.

The Princess traded a long suffering look with her bodyguard Arlä who merely rolled her eyes back as if to say 'ellyn'.

Thoroughly fed up the Princess clapped her hands hard and loud. The noise was enough to stop the increasingly heated argument the ellyn before her had been having.

"Can we please put your petty differences aside for now and focus on the task in hand? Do you not think we can handle this matter like the distinguished individuals we are meant to be?"

Rithel did naught to hide her displeasure as she glared round at the ellyn she had called for – Lord Arahaelon, Crown Commander Aglardaer, her Adar's Elite – Arodon, Arthon and Duron - as well as Bôr and Galion.

She had gathered them to discuss the increasingly distressing rumours that her Adar was dying or already dead and that the Woodland Realm was about to or had already lost its greatest ever leader.

"Well I gave my suggestion to you weeks ago when all this first began," Lord Arahaelon's tone was that of one speaking to a simpleton. "I told you it was best to keep Legolas here in the palace until things were a bit more settled or until your Adar was well enough for visits but you insisted on letting him carry on with his normal schedule and now look where that has landed us."

Rithel took a small, quick deep breath and staved off the urge to throw something heavy at the condescending silver haired ellon. The longer they worked in such close proximity the stronger the Princess' urge to hurt her Adar's Regent became; Rithel was sure he was usually her Adar's right hand but just now he was becoming an ever increasing thorn in her side.

Still she very reluctantly admitted Lord Arahaelon had a point. Legolas had inadvertently started the rumours over the true health of the Woodland King – or rather her brother's recent appearance had.

Rithel sighed aloud and this time did rub at her temples as she reflected on her tithen gwanûr; Legolas had become ever more disconsolate and quiet and all in all lifeless looking as the days without further word, improvement or sight of their Adar passed. Rithel was beside herself with worry for him and despite Lord Arahaelon advising otherwise Rithel had thought she'd been helping her baby brother by keeping him active and involved in his usual day to day activities.

It hadn't helped though – Legolas looked closer to fading with each day and though Rithel had at last confined him to rest and his rooms three days ago the damage had been done. The rumours had been carelessly started by one or two gossipy Naneths of Legolas' peers and things had escalated from there. It did not help that she herself had hardly been seen by the wider populace since she'd taken up her Adar's throne full time. Now increasingly wild rumours of the Royal family's demise swirled as far as the southernmost village and Rithel wanted and needed to take action to put a stop to them. Hence the accursed meeting she was currently trapped in.

"You need to watch your tone – I know I am your younger but right now I am your Queen and you will speak to me in a manner befitting such." Rithel huffed unwilling to let Lord Arahaelon's rudeness slip by so easily.

"Yes, I did allow Legolas out – I thought it best after all. He is a wood elf and being cooped up in here would do him no good. The Valar know it isn't doing him any good now. But what is done is done. I need your help now to put an end to these rumours. All of you." Rithel swept her gaze round the room, "What can we say or do to help put these rumours to bed? They are ridiculous and hurtful – not just to me and Legolas but to the Woodland Realm as a whole. The last thing we want is anyone unscrupulous coming here thinking we are at a weak point. So I ask you all again – what can we do?"

"Well you need to make an appearance for a start – that would do to put an end to the rumours that you too are fading. Let the people see you – whole and strong. And for Eru's sakeget rid of the mourning white you're wearing before you do." Lord Arahaelon's tone was still waspish.

Rithel grit her teeth and did not throw her letter knife at the Regent.

"When Lord Arahaelon – pray do tell? When the bloody hell am I meant to get time to go gallivanting round the Wood to be seen by the people?" Rithel was a step away from snarling and did her best to reign herself in. "Shall I fit that in between the ten other meetings I have planned for today? Two of which I am already late for!"

Lord Arahaelon glared and it was Bôr her Adar's softly spoken but rather capable secretary who spoke up and broke the heated stare contest.

"Lord Arahaeon is right Riel-nin when he says it would be well for you to be seen by the people. It will settle the nerves and show that the Royal house is still standing and present." The russet haired ellon cocked his head and considered something before he spoke again, "I know we had a mind to cancel the Ennyn Laer Ball but perhaps it would be better if we did not and you attended…without wearing mourning colours. In fact it would be best if you did not wear either white or black any longer. The Realm needs to move on from its grief and cannot do so if its head does not."

Rithel frowned, "Are you truly sure about this Bôr? You can carry on with the Ennyn Laer Ball if you like but I am not sure I am up to attending it and playing at being jolly."

Rithel then turned a glare upon Lord Arahaelon before, "And I do not see how me wearing mourning colours affects anything – I haven't been out and about – as you say the people have hardly seen me so sequestered have I become in this damnable office."

Sensing another argument brewing it was the turn of Arthon, youngest of the King'sElite, to step in before things got too heated again. "The Ennyn Laer Ball is one of the King's favourite feast days Riel-nin – he has never missed it save the few times he has had to march out to war himself. It will look ill indeed if none of the Royal family make an appearance. And as for the mourning clothes – well your Adar is not dead yet - perhaps you should not tempt the Valar so." The blonde flashed Rithel a quick smile before he continued, "Despite you not really being seen by the wider public you are still seen by the Palace Guard – who are both warriors and palace staff. And there is nothing warriors and palace staff like doing more than -"

"Gossip." Rithel finished for him with a groan of realisation. "Fine I suppose you are all correct. I will attend the Ball and I will also change into something else once this meeting is done with."

"You needn't worry over being accosted by anyone at the Ennyn Laer Ball Riel Rithel – I shall handpick those who will dine at the royal table and Lord Arahaelon will sit to your right with me at your left to field any overly nosey questions. All will be well."

Rithel removed her circlet and ran a hand through her silver hair tiredly, "Fine Bôr – that sounds agreeable. Please see to the needed preparations."

The secretary nodded to himself satisfied and scribbled something down in his neat, flowing tengwar before he pursed his lips and looked up again, "I was also thinking perhaps you might do a pre-feast hunt – with one of the elfling classes – a sort of display for them. They are too young to be concerned with matters like the health of the King and will go home to any nosey, gossipy Naneths and tell them what a wonderful time they had with Princess Rithel."

Rithel stared appalled – that was the last thing she wanted or had the time to do. And yet she could see how it would help. Bôr was truly crafty.

"You are devious indeed Bôr – much as I am loathe to go hunting of all things right now I must admit it will do wonders to re-direct the rumour mill. You may sign me up for that as well – just be sure to pick an agreeable class for the hunt."

Bôr smirked, "Of course Riel-nin."

Rithel turned her attention back to the others in the room lest Bôr think up of anything else for her to do. "Well that solves the problem of me not having been seen out and about for some time. Where does that leave us?"

"That still leaves us with the problem of Ernil Legolas and what to actually tell the people in regards to the King." Crown Commander Aglardaer's face remained in the frown he'd worn since Rithel had first summoned him. "How does our young Prince fare?"

Rithel felt misery cloak her once more. "Legolas does not fare well at all – ever since Mithrandir was so foolish as to actually explain to him in great detail all that ails Adar he has had nightmares every night. Thanniel and I have taken to sitting with him in turn as he sleeps but it has not helped thus far. He is eating but…only barely, just enough to stop us from nagging at him. He is a walking picture of misery and I do not think that will change until he sees Adar. I've half a mind to simply order Calelon to let us see Adar but as he remains unconscious I do not think it would be a great idea in the long run – it would only add further fuel to Legolas' nightmares."

"Indeed," hummed Aglardaer thoughtfully, "You are right – it would be best to leave any visits until the King is conscious again and able to have visitors. But the Valar alone know when that will be…"

Rithel nodded, "Yes and that is exactly our quandary – for a long as Adar remains unwell and out of the public eye Legolas and indeed the entire Realm will continue to worry and speculate over all the possible things that could have happened to him. I can go to as many public meets and parties as I like but no one will feel truly calm again until they have seen Adar himself. For this is most unlike him is it not? Adar has never been out of action for so long ever before has he?"

Rithel turned her eyes to her Adar's Elite in question and Duron, the stoic Avari warrior, spoke up.

"Nay he has not. Even after Dagorlad and all he sustained there he was up and back about within a mere few days. It has been nearly three weeks now…"

And Rithel felt a frisson of fear run up her spine, for Duron who was perpetually calm and not given to fear of any kind had actually sounded worried.

The Princess bit her lip and wrung her hands tightly under her Adar's too large desk even as the discussion around her once again spiralled out of her control as the ellyn in the room again begun to debate amongst themselves the fate of their King and what ought and ought not to be revealed to the realm.

Rithel heard them as if from afar – they were going round in the same circles once more and she felt too tired to intervene again. She spent her nights looking over a fading baby brother and her days doing her best to keep a large realm running and intact and throughout it all she had to fight off near suffocating dread and fear over her Adar's wellbeing. She was so very fearful for him – so scared she would lose him too – just like Naneth. Rithel mourned deep in her heart for the family she once had, for the way things once were, this dreadful new incident bringing back the grief afresh once more. It was no surprise she hadn't noticed that she still wore the mourning colours of white and black long after the official days of the realm's mourning were over when her heart felt so desperately sad and heavy. She was tired; so, so very tired and she could see no end in sight – for as long as her Adar remained asleep and unwell these burdens would continue to press at her.

Rithel felt Arlä's hand as it gave a firm and reassuring squeeze of her shoulder and she looked up at the Avari elleth thankful for the silent support. The Princess took a deep breath – the debates around her had ramped up into arguments again and Rithel squared her shoulders. They still had yet to solve the issues she had summoned them here for and they wasted time letting their emotions run high and get the better of them. No matter how she did not want it the job of Queen was hers for now and she needed to put aside her own tremulous emotions and act like it.

Rithel opened her mouth to get everyone under control once more but a loud knock at the door cut her off and did a very nice job of silencing (and startling) all in the room with her. The knocking reverberated round the room again accompanied this time by the calm and genteel voice of the royal healer Calelon.

"I beg your pardon for the interruption Riel-nin but could I speak with you?"

"Of course Calelon do come in." Rithel stood and crossed the room to open the door herself. A curious mix of emotions roiled within her as she ushered the royal healer in. She was happy for the interruption from the tense talks as well as terribly nervous over the reason Calelon had sought her out.

"Oh I was unaware you were in session Riel-nin – I would not have interrupted had I known."

Rithel waved a hand as she settled herself back behind her Adar's desk, "Nonsense Calelon, you are welcome at any time. Did you need to speak to me in private?"

"Nay this is fine. Everyone in the room is close to and cares for Aran Thranduil and my news should please you all." Calelon looked round those in the room and gave a smile, "The King is awake, aware and on the mend."

Rithel could not hope to stop the smile that split her face at the news and it was clear that everyone else felt the same as smiles and happy chatter broke over the room that had just moments before been heavy with despair and tension.

"Oh that is marvellous news Calelon – thank you for coming to tell us. Will he be able to have visitors soon?" Rithel willed the royal healer to say yes so she could rush out, grab Legolas and head to the healing halls to see their Adar. She had missed her Adar's strong presence so much and was anxious to see him again.

"Not just yet Riel-nin, I'm afraid. He has only just awakened and I understand you are all eager to see him but as you know he has been grievously injured and it will take him some time to regain his strength. You shall all get chance to see him eventually for he is well on the mend – just please be patient a while longer."

It was not what Rithel had hoped to hear; she'd so been hoping Calelon would at last grant them access. But it was still better than the news she had first feared hearing upon Calelon's arrival. Her Adar was at long last awake and more than that he was aware and healing well if Calelon's satisfied demeanour was anything to go by. After everything thus far that was more than enough for now.

"Of course Calelon, we can wait – I am merely pleased to hear Adar is awake and healing. You have my everlasting thanks and gratitude – I am in your debt. Will you please give Adar the best regards and warm wishes of us all? And if you have the time to spare would you please be able to look in on Legolas as well to share the news? I think it would do him good to hear it from you directly."

"There is no need for thanks Riel-nin I merely do my job. And I shall go and speak to Ernil Legolas now and reassure him. It would be my pleasure."

Rithel beamed at Calelon and he gave a low bow and made to leave before Lord Arahaelon stopped him.

"Sorry to hold you Calelon, but just a minute more of your time please whilst we have you." Lord Arahaelon gestured to the room at large, "We have actually been here discussing ways to put an end to the rumours that have been going round over the King's health."

Calelon shook his head and mild confusion covered his face, "I must say I am not aware of any rumours concerning the King's health; of course I have been rather occupied of late. What has been said?"

"Wild and completely untrue things – the specifics matter not. But perhaps you could help give us a time estimate for when Aran Thranduil will be back and up on his feet. He has never been confined to his sick bed for as long as this before and it has made the whole realm rather jittery. If we had an approximation we could give the people…that would go some way to relieving the unease."

Calelon gave them all a long assessing look even as he made his way back towards the door. "Aran Thranduil recovers but it will be a long recovery. Right now I can give you no true approximation. He…he will have great need of the strength, support and aid you can all provide him ere he returns to his throne."

The royal healer bowed again, "Now if you please I should not leave Aran Thranduil on his own for too long just yet and if I am still to speak to Ernil Legolas…"

"Yes, of course Calelon you are free to go – and once again le athae."

Rithel watched him go with a quiet click of the door behind him. The silence in the room lasted all of ten seconds before it erupted once more with Lord Arahaelon's voice the loudest as he accosted her.

"Why did you give him leave to go? He did not answer my question…not properly in any case. And what on Arda did he mean by that last little rejoinder? I do not understand the need for healers to be so bloody cryptic all the time."

Rithel sent a half-hearted glare in the Regent's direction, "I gave him leave to go as it is not Calelon's job to solve our quandaries for us. His job is to see Adar back to full health and strength whilst ours is to keep the realm running smoothly until Calelon's job is complete. As for what he meant by saying Adar would have nee of our strength and aid," Rithel shrugged. "I have no idea but I do know that I will give anything needed to see Adar healthy and back where he belongs again and I'm sure you will all do the same. Now please, can we finally get back to matter in hand? What do we tell the people? How can we sate their worries?"

"I have an idea Riel-nin if you would hear me out?"

Rithel almost startled at Galion's soft well-mannered voice – she had all but forgotten she had invited her Adar's butler and trusted aide to the meeting so quiet had he been. The Princess gave a nod and gestured for him to speak up eager to hear his thoughts.

"Thank you." Galion smiled at her before he turned to address the room at large, "Why do we simply not just tell the truth? Hear me out please," Galion begged even as Lord Arahaelon and Commander Aglardaer began to make discouraging noises.

"Rumours and lies are what has caused this issue in the first place; for lies beget lies which in the end only bring ruin. The only way to fight lies is with the truth. So why do we not simply do just that and tell the truth of how Aran Thranduil fought to bring down the last of the dragons on his own in defence of his realm and that he suffered some serious injuries for his act of loyal bravery. Injures that will take some time to recover from but he will recover and he will return in due time." Galion gave an easy shrug of his shoulders, "Surely that would be easier than coming up with some elaborate invention and you will have the comfort of knowing that truth will never come back to bite you at some later date."

The room was quiet as they all contemplated Galion's proposal but Rithel was already nodding her head in agreement as she thought it through. Her Adar had cut down the last of the fire serpents on his own – she'd read the reports from the war council – and that fact should be made public knowledge. To let the people know just how much their King loved them and strove to protect them; that he would risk his own body, health and life. Such a tale would definitely cause a swell of love and the fierce loyalty the wood elves were famous for to come rushing forth for her Adar. Enough that it would stamp down on the gossip and redirect that negative energy into something more positive.

"Galion, "Rithel smiled, "You are brilliant. That is exactly what we will do and I honestly do not know why I did not think of it before. Commander Aglardaer, Arodon, Duron and Arthon you will all work with Bôr and give him all the details you can – keep it light and heroic – something the people can speak of with pride and joy, not fear. Paint Adar in the most positive light you can and reassure the people that their King is on the mend and will return to them."

"Your Adar was truly heroic out there," Arodon's voice was thick with pride. "We have no need to embellish anything. It shall be done as you say Princess."

"Good. Get started on that straight away and bring it back for Lord Arahaelon and myself to look over and approve."

Rithel gave a relieved smile as the ellyn before her moved to do as she had bid. That was one worry out of the way and in the end the solution had been simple enough. Now if only the same could be said about the problem that was Legolas.

Rithel hoped beyond hope that the visit and good news from Calelon would reinvigorate her tithen gwanûr as much as it had her.

~o~

Legolas startled awake at the sound of a thump and shuffling at his open balcony door. Blearily he blinked and rubbed his eyes as he brought them back into focus.

"A…Aeglosson?" Legolas craned his neck upwards a little so he could see somewhat better.

"Aye the one and only," his silver haired friend smirked and Legolas sat up a little more when there was further scuffling and Aeglosson gave a rather disgruntled 'Oi' as he was shoved further into the room.

Faervel and Tauriel appeared behind him and Aeglosson rolled his eyes. "Vel and Tauriel are here too," he allowed. "We're here to spring you free from your cage seeing as it's been four days and you haven't made even one successful escape attempt."

Faervel nodded and came further into the room and perched on the end of Legolas' bed. "Even I am worried by that fact Las – usually you'd have attempted some form of escape by now – are you truly unwell?"

"I must say Las I agree with these two," Tauriel's eyes shone with her concern. "Tis most unlike you to obey when confined to your rooms."

Faervel made as if to reach for Legolas then; hands aglow with the fledgling healing energy he was still in the early stages of learning to use and control, but Legolas waved him off and pulled himself into a fully upright position.

He blinked again fully clearing his sight and smiled at his friend's concerned faces, "Nay Vel I am well. I have just been…tired is all. I have been far too tired to plot anything."

The lie was weak and Legolas could see it in his friend's faces but he knew none of them would press him further.

Faervel was the first to break the somewhat tense silence, "Well then, if you are indeed tired we should leave you to your rest."

"Oh no, no – don't go now. After all didn't you come to free me?" Legolas gave a cheeky grin. "Give me but a minute to collect a few things and we can make good our escape. I have rested enough."

That was true at least. He had been woken from the most restful sleep he'd had in the weeks since the troops had returned and it was his first nightmare free slumber since he'd spoken to Mithrandir. For Calelon had come to see him earlier, just before midday, and had given him the best news he'd heard in what felt like an Age. His Adar had at long last awoken from his dragon induced slumber. He was awake, aware and on the mend Calelon had said. Of course Legolas had asked to see him straight away and he'd been only a little disappointed in the royal healer's stern no.

He supposed it made sense that his Adar would still be quite weak and need a fair amount of rest before he was up to taking visitors. Either way the overwhelming fact remained that his Adar was awake. Awake and on the mend not unconscious and on a slow slide into Mandos. The news had lifted a great weight off Legolas' heart and shortly after his chat with Calelon (during which the healer had insisted on checking him over) he'd nodded off to sleep and had been until Aeglosson had crashed through his balcony door.

Now he felt invigorated and energised and cooped up. It was high time he got out and got some fresh air.

"We'll have to take the secret passage ways and go out into the woods behind the stronghold – the Palace Guards have less of a presence there." The young blonde smiled at his friends as he tugged his boots on and secured his long knives, "We can have a picnic. I'll send down to the chefs for some food and we can take it with us."

Aeglosson arched an eyebrow at him sceptically, "Will they not simply send up a light snack just for you? There will hardly be enough for a picnic Las."

"It matters not," Faervel shrugged, "I can set off home now and get something for us all. My Naneth will not mind."

"Oh ye of little faith," Legolas snorted even as he made his way through his chambers and to his front door to fetch a servant. "The chefs will send me plenty – don't you worry."

Legolas said nothing of why he was so sure in his claims. He did not want to talk about the fact he'd not really been eating - leading Thanniel, Rithel and the motherly palace chefs to despair. Legolas knew the chefs would be ecstatic that he'd actually requested food for himself and would likely send up enough to feed a small army in the interests of feeding him up a bit. Legolas smirked – this 'near fading' lark did have some perks.

~o~

Legolas licked the last of the strawberry jam from his fingers and laid back into the soft, mossy loam. He felt utterly contented.

He'd not been wrong in his assumptions over the palace chefs. They had indeed sent him up a huge spread; soft baked potatoes with cheese, cold cuts of roast chicken, hard boiled eggs and deliciously crusty bread with a hefty helping of butter all topped off with strawberry jam tarts. Legolas and his friends had fed very well indeed and were now all sprawled across the mossy ground of the meadow they had chosen for their picnic in varying states of wakefulness, full and happy.

And Legolas was happiest of all as he again and again replayed his earlier conversation with Calelon. He had new words that stuck in his memory now. Better words, positive words.

Awake.

Aware.

On the mend.

Legolas let his eyes drift out of focus as he settled himself in for a snooze. Of course he knew he'd be in hideous trouble when Thanniel or Rithel or Lord Arahaelon went to check in on him and found him missing. He'd be in even more trouble once the chefs found out he had played on their sympathies in order to obtain his picnic. Yet the young Prince could not find it in himself to care at the moment.

For his Adar was awake, aware and on the mend and soon enough all would be right in Legolas' world once more. He was sure of it.

~o~

Thranduil could hear Aiwendil as he snored softly in the corner. The Elven King felt as though he would soon join the Istar in the land of nod as he felt exhaustion slowly creep over him.

Hall Thurin. The spell was powerful indeed and complex and an afternoon of having Aiwendil explain it from the basics to its finer points had left them both mentally exhausted.

Glamour spells on a whole were intricate magic; unlike other simple spells that required no more than hushed enchanted words, incantations or a few mystic ingredients for them to take effect, glamour spells required more concentration and power from the one casting them.

As Thranduil would be using Hall Thurin upon himself to cast a glamour that would reflect very fine and intricate details it would take an especially strong amount of his concentration and magical power. There would be no words for him to utter; Hall Thurin would be a spell that would be cast by and upheld by his mind entirely.

At least that was the plan…

As Aiwendil had stressed Hall Thurin was an incredibly powerful spell - in the Common Tongue it translated to 'Veiled Secret' – and it worked to cast a an almost iron clad illusion on whatever object or person it was set on. Only the greatest of sorcerers and Istari would be able to detect its presence. And thus this incredible use of magical power was difficult to master. Therefore Plan A was for Thranduil to learn to uphold the spell using his mind alone. Plan B however would be to have a magical ring cast that would be imbued with Hall Thurin and would uphold the glamour spell without Thranduil having to put forth any of his own magical powers.

Thranduil of course favoured Plan A more. The naturally stubborn King felt more than sure he would be able to uphold the glamour spell himself. He had already learned to do simpler glamour spells in his youth and besides all that he was no stranger to magic; Aiwendil himself had witnessed Thranduil's prowess with powerful and tricky spells when they had worked together to create the Enchanted River. Sure, Hall Thurin was a completely higher level of magic – made even more difficult by the fact he would be using it upon his face to reflect all its myriad of fine details – but the Elven King was sure he was equal to the challenge.

Thranduil knew he had only to give the word and his finest jewel smith Angrenor would immediately have the magic ring made. Yet that felt too easy to Thranduil. It also felt far too much like sympathy and that Thranduil could not abide. It would be bad enough once he was forced to disclose his new handicap; he would suffer nothing else that would take away from his image as strong and supremely capable.

So he had worn both Aiwendil and himself ragged as he made the brown wizard go over the spell again and again and again. Thranduil knew from the moment Aiwendil had first explained it to him that he would not be able to try and use it yet – not even in its most basic form. He was not yet strong enough, but the Elven King saw no reason why he ought not to make a serious headway in learning all there was to learn about the spell ready for when Calelon and Mithrandir finally ceased their clucking over him and declared him fit enough to practise in earnest.

The curse of dragon fire had confined him for far too long now. Thranduil would learn Hall Thurin back to front, he would master it and then at long last he would finally make serious moves to leave behind his accursed sick bed once and for all.

The Woodland Realm needed its King back and its King was more than ready to be back upon his throne where he belonged.

TBC.

Aran-nin/Aran - My King/King

Fëa – Soul (Quenya)

Hröa – Body (Quenya)

Hannon-le – Thank you

Istar – Quenya for Wizard

Eledhrim – Elves

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

Naneth - Mother

Navaer – Farewell

Hall Thurin – Veiled Secret. The name of Thranduil's facial glamour completely made up by me

Adar – Father

Ellon/Ellyn – Male Elf/Elves

Tithen Gwanûr – Little Brother

Riel / Riel-nin – Princess / My Princess

Ennyn Laer – The Gates of Summer – Elvish feast day celebrating the arrival of summer

Ernil – Prince

Elleth - Female elf

Le athae – Literally: You are/were helpful/kind - Sindarin version of Thank you

Istari – (Plural of Istar) – Quenya for Wizards