Thranduil sat and revelled in the warm sunlight upon his skin and the fresh breeze that caressed and teased at his un-braided hair. Calelon had set up the breakfast table at the French doors and opened them so it felt almost as though he sat outside. Thranduil watched impassively as Calelon cheerfully set all the breakfast things into place; the Elven King was doing his best to stay calm – he found it difficult to keep perfect control over Hall Thurin when he got overwrought and let his emotions best him.

And he did not want a slip to happen – not now – not when he was about to meet with Aglardaer. Thranduil had chosen his best friend as his first visitor in case the glamour did slip and reveal the true horrors of his face beneath, for he knew Aglardaer would not judge him, would not recoil in repulsion nor treat him any differently for his new disability. Thranduil trusted Aglardaer with all his secrets, with his very life; but that did not mean that the King wanted his weaknesses laid bare for his friend to see – at least not so soon.

So Thranduil very carefully focussed on the birds chirping, the warm sun he basked in, Calelon's calming puttering round him as the healer set the table and resolutely refused to acknowledge the feelings of nervousness that fluttered round in his stomach like trapped dragonflies. His best friend was due any minute now and Thranduil tried his hardest to focus on the joy the reunion would bring rather than worry himself over what Aglardaer would or would not notice about him.

"There," Calelon set the butter dish down and clasped his hands delightedly. "All finished." A soft knocking sounded at the door and the Royal healer smiled, "Just in time too – that will be Hir Aglardaer now Aran-nin are you ready for him?"

Thranduil looked over the table Calelon had set and the spread upon it – fluffy scrambled eggs, freshly smoked pink salmon with a smattering of dill and small toasted loaves of bread were accompanied by a pot of steaming chamomile tea and sparkling apple juice.

"You have outdone yourself Calelon – hannon-le…and yes, please see Aglardaer in."

Thranduil gave the doubts in his mind no time to convince him to turn his friend away and smoothed his hair one last time as he sat up more fully in his seat and shifted ever so slightly to face Aglardaer's arrival.

~o~

Aglardaer knocked softly, almost timidly at the oaken door before him. It felt wrong to be any louder when in the healing wing. His keen hearing picked up the sounds of barely there elven steps heading for the door and he took a deep breath suddenly inexplicably nervous. The commander tightened his grip on the basket he'd brought with him and willed himself to calm. This was Thranduil – his dearest friend in all of Arda and one whom he'd missed terribly this past month and a half. He should be giddy with joy to see him again not nervous.

And yet the nerves did not abate fully despite Aglardaer's harshest demands on himself. For the silver haired ellon remembered how death-like and just plain bloodied and awful Thranduil had looked when they had dragged him off the battlefield and brought him home. He remembered how scared he'd been as they'd handed Thranduil off to Calelon that that might have been the last time he'd ever see his friend alive. Yet here he was – Thranduil was still very much alive and they were about to have breakfast – there was no need for nerves at all.

Aglardaer gave himself a little shake and then the door was pulled open to reveal Calelon. Aglardaer smiled at him and greeted him cordially if autonomously; for his eyes had caught on Thranduil who he could just glimpse beyond the royal healer's shoulder. Thranduil who sat looking hale and proud and strong.

Perhaps sensing the Crown Commander's eagerness to see his friend up close Calelon bowed to Aglardaer, "I will leave you both to it now for I suspect you have much to catch up on." The royal healer paused and turned to face Thranduil, "Remember Aran-nin should you need anything at all -"

"Then I shall ring your bloody bell Calelon – worry not – I remember."

Calelon shot them both a smile, oblivious to his King's waspish tone, "Good – I shan't be far should you have need of me. Enjoy!" And with that Calelon swept from the room leaving Aglardaer standing just inside the room as he slowly took in the sight of Thranduil.

His King and friend held himself upright in a gesture that showed strength but there was also a stiffness to it that hinted at underlying pain; there were bandages wrapped all the way up Thranduil's neck – right up under his chin – as well as bandages wrapped around both hands. Aside from that Thranduil looked well enough and any lingering nerves Aglardaer had dissipated and the silver haired ellon found himself shooting his best friend a broad beaming smile.

Thranduil returned it with the barest upward quirk of his lips and an arched eyebrow. "Will you stand over there all day and gape at me? I for one should like to eat my breakfast whilst it is still hot."

Aglardaer laughed and crossed over to the table where Thranduil sat near the open French doors of his room. "I am glad to see your indomitable spirit is still intact." Aglardaer dropped low in a bow to his King, "And I am even gladder to see you looking as hale as you do now – you have given us all quite the scare mellon-nin. When we brought you in…the way you looked…" Aglardaer shuddered. "I truly feared for your life – you had one foot very firmly within Mandos."

Thranduil seemed to wince and Aglardaer realised just how morbid he sounded. "Apologies mellon I do not mean to drag up bad memories for you. I am just simply glad to see you well again."

"Your words do not trouble me, for in truth I remember naught of that time or even much of the battle. It is all faded and hazy to me." Thranduil shrugged his shoulders even as he gestured for Aglardaer to rise and be seated. "I remember it in bits and pieces though I suppose it does not matter – I have heard much from Calelon and when I eventually return to the throne I expect there will be countless reports on the battle awaiting my perusal."

"Yes, that there is – I placed one such report on your desk just yesterday. I suppose then that Calelon is not concerned with your lack of memory?" Aglardaer saw an opportunity to enquire over his friend's health and decided to take it.

Thranduil was wise to him immediately, "Nay he is not – he is rather pleased with my progress in fact. And ere you begin to grill me over my injuries as I can see you are just itching to do let us at least break our fast and eat in peace first."

Aglardaer sighed defeated, "As you wish it mellon-nin and I do not wish to grill you – only, as I have said we have all been rather worried."

Thranduil only gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement before his eyes landed on the basket Aglardaer had set down near his feet. "What is in the basket?" He queried instead, changing the subject with ease and Aglardaer allowed it – he would still find out all he wished to know before their meeting was done.

"Oh, you have had so many letters and well wishes I felt it easier to simply pile them all into this basket – and this isn't even the half of it. You have been dearly missed Thranduil – not least by your children." Aglardaer cocked his head to the side inquisitively, "Why did you not invite them first rather than me? They desperately wish to see you and I think they may be somewhat slighted that you did not choose them first."

Thranduil sighed, frustrated, and pointedly did not meet his commanders' eyes but instead focussed on helping himself to the spread before them. "Calelon allowed me only one visitor and I could not pick between Rithel and Legolas – it would not be fair for one to stay and the other to visit me."

Aglardaer could sense this was not the whole truth but he knew his friend would have his reasons and he sought to put Thranduil at ease even as he too begun to tuck in. "They will understand. You should be proud of them both – they have truly conducted themselves in a manner befitting the House of Oropher."

Thranduil looked up then a happy gleam in his eye, "Oh?"

Aglardaer nodded and the two fell into talk of the Kingdom and its running in Thranduil's absence. Aglardaer was careful to assure his friend that all was well under the steady leadership of Rithel with Arahaelon at her side and that the Princess had the full backing of the Realm. Their talk turned serious for a spell; going from the latest palace gossip to politics and then the heavy topic of the battle's aftermath. Aglardaer did not linger too heavily on that matter sensing that the grief of it was still very near for Thranduil who had not yet had time to grieve for his warriors lost. Instead the Crown Commander deftly switched to lighter talk and passed on numerous greetings from a great many well-wishers including the Princess and young Prince, Lord Arahaelon and Thranduil's Elite and gave the King a glimpse into his basket which held not only hundreds of hand written letters and cards wishing him a swift recovery but also home-made sweets and pastries, a heavy bunch of Dorwinion grapes and a punnet full of his favourite strawberries.

Thranduil was delighted and relaxed further as he read a few of his cards and letters aloud to Aglardaer whilst they finished up the last of their drinks. As happy as Aglardaer was to see his friend smile and be at ease he hadn't forgotten his self-appointed mission of finding out the true state of his friends' health. Because for all that Thranduil sat tall and strong with no further evidence of his ailments save his pristine white bandages Aglardaer knew his friend was nowhere near as strong as he was making out to be.

There was just something slightly off about Thranduil – he had not moved with his usual carefree elegance but with a singular focus that Aglardaer had not seen in his friend before – at least not when it came to something so menial as eating.

For Aglardaer had marked and noted the way Thranduil had moved and manoeuvred ever so carefully as they ate; he moved with precision and a slight stiffness that hinted at pain and perhaps some loss of co-ordination from a lingering head wound. It likely would have missed the notice of anyone else who did not know the blonde King so well as Aglardaer did for Thranduil was very graceful and careful to ensure his movements looked as natural and as smooth as possible but…

Well Aglardaer knew Thranduil very, very well and he was not convinced his friend did not hide some injury.

With a small deep breath to strengthen him against both Thranduil's stubbornness and possible wrath Aglardaer posed his first question. "All is not as well as it seems with you…is that not true mellon-nin?"

~o~

Thranduil felt his eyes widen ever so slightly at Aglardaer's question even as he continued to stubbornly stare down at the cards in his lap. He felt anger at his injuries and at himself rise for a moment before he let go of it with a harsh exhale; Aglardaer knew him well and Thranduil had known his friend would see through him – he had no reason to be angry at himself for not being able to hide from Aglardaer as well as he'd hoped.

Still, he did not feel like baring his soul – if Aglardaer wanted to know what ailed him then he'd have to try harder than that.

"What do you mean?" Thranduil lifted his eyes to his friend careful to keep his face blank and devoid of any emotion.

Aglardaer frowned, wise to his antics and not best pleased. "I am your bodyguard, commander of your army and more than that your best friend. I know you well Thranduil so there is not a lot of point in hiding from me. I can see that you do not move with your usual ease – what pains you?"

"Nothing really pains me per se…Calelon has seen to that…at least for the moment."

Aglardaer's frown deepened, "So you do admit then that there is pain? That you have injuries unseen?"

Thranduil held out his bandaged arms, "Of course I have injuries unseen."

"Must you always be so damn stubborn and trying? I only seek the best for you and I thought you did likewise for me!" Aglardaer's eyes flashed with his frustration, "I have been worried out of my mind for you Thranduil – you truly have no idea just how close to death you were. I feared for your life every step of the way back home, scared that each breath you took might be your last and that I would have to return home to tell your children they'd been orphaned. And I am still worried for you now – can you not just do me a favour and tell me how you truly fare and put my mind at ease?"

Thranduil gave a soft sigh and worried at his lip. Aglardaer was playing dirty by bringing their friendship and his children into it; but – he did have a point. Thranduil should disclose his injuries to his friend, if only for purely professional reasons with Aglardaer being one of his bodyguards. However, knowing it was the right thing to do did not make the task any easier for the Elven King.

"Am I truly so ungraceful now that it seems as if I am in pain?"

"Nay," Aglardaer leaned back in his chair arms crossed and seemingly satisfied now he was getting his way. "In all truth another would not notice what I have – I noticed only because I know you well….but you just seemed so…so singularly focused on each and every thing you did as we ate I must confess I fear you have a lingering head injury."

Thranduil snorted - a dry, unamused sound. Would that his injury were so 'simple'.

"I have no head injury – do you think Calelon would let me up and about if I had? Nay that is not it…but I do have 'injuries unseen' as you have put it." Again, the blonde King held out his bandaged arms, "I have been burnt – badly so – it is especially severe all down my left side hence Calelon swathing me in bandages as one swaddles a new-born elfling."

Thranduil hesitated a beat before he continued, "Of course I expect you have heard tell of the malice and complications of dragon's fire – particularly in terms of healing…"

Thranduil watched as realisation hit Aglardaer and fear and worry snuck into his friend's eyes.

"In all truth Thranduil I must admit I did not even put two and two together. I mean of course I know you were burnt. I was there and not quick enough when the wyrm unleashed its fiery breath upon you but…but…it hadn't even come to my mind all that is said of dragon's fire." Aglardaer let out a tremulous breath, "Valar mellon, if it is as painful as they say how are you up and about already? Tell me the tales are a myth?"

Undisguised hope replaced the fear and worry in the Commander's eyes and Thranduil felt badly that he would crush it. "Firstly, do not take any of the blame for this mellon – there was naught you could have done save secure the same fiery fate for yourself. As for the pain…well…the tales are no myth – tis pain like I have never had the misfortune of feeling before – it burns always…a bone deep fiery ache. I sit here now only because of the wisdom of the Istari; Aiwendil and Calelon have concocted a powerful painkiller for me and it works well. I have already had my morning dose and mid-afternoon Calelon will dose me up again and it will last through the night."

Thranduil tried and failed to raise a convincing smile, "I am very glad of it I must say – I have had a few moments without the blissful balm Aiwendil has been so kind to mix up for me and it was not pleasant. Not in the least."

Aglardaer nodded slowly but the hope in his eyes was gone and replaced by a deep-set frown as he stated the one thing Thranduil really didn't want to acknowledge just then.

"You cannot remain on a painkiller forever mellon-nin. No matter how much comfort it provides now – its effectiveness will fade overtime."

"Aye, well I know it."

"What then will you do?" There was a distinct note of alarm in Aglardaer's voice.

"Mithrandir says he has a plan," Thranduil gave a small shrug. "He says he has something or a someone in mind who will help with the pain long term though he has yet to enlighten me – only tells me not to worry." Thranduil's mien reflected exactly what he thought of that. "I can only wait and see what scheme he is concocting and hope to the Valar it will actually be of help."

Aglardaer rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a moment as he absorbed the news. "Have faith in Mithrandir – he is a meddler but he holds an especial fondness for the House of Oropher – he will not fail you."

"Hn," Thranduil snorted at that; he was not fully convinced and wished the grey wizard would speak plainly and let it be known what he planned for his long-term pain management. Yet he had long since learned that trying to force haste from Mithrandir was a futile endeavour. He would simply have to hold his peace for the time being.

"Trust him Thranduil. He will come through for you." His silver haired friend gave him an encouraging nod then and gestured for Thranduil to continue tell of his injuries.

Rather than speak Thranduil shakily drew himself to his feet and with a steadying breath he begun to walk over to his bed at the opposite end of the room. He was careful to ensure the toes of his bared feet touched the floor first before he fully committed to each step – twas a little trick Calelon had shown him to lessen the likely hood of trips and falls. He made slow but steady progress over to his bed careful all the while to ensure he turned his head subtlety as he scanned the room for trip hazards.

Thranduil rested only a minute upon reaching his bed before he turned and headed back to Aglardaer and their breakfast table. He stepped with a little more confidence this time and was pleased not to be winded as he gently lowered himself back into his seat.

"What is my other 'unseen injury'?"

Aglardaer's forehead creased in mild confusion, "Uh…you have injured your leg? Or your hip perhaps?"

Thranduil fought off both a laugh and the urge to hit his best friend with something. "Nay, that is not it." The blonde thought for a moment on what else he could show Aglardaer that might help him guess at his new handicap before, "The missive I sent you – what did you notice about it?"

"Well, your handwriting was rather umm…" Aglardaer hesitated and Thranduil impatiently gestured for him to hurry up and spit it out. "Well…it didn't look like your usual missives tend to…it was somewhat…sloppy."

Thranduil snorted at his friend's politeness, "Yes it was exceedingly sloppy; so now add that with the way you saw me walking and what is your conclusion? What is my injury?"

Aglardaer's face was now a study in confusion, "My instincts still say head wound but you say tis not so and I do not believe Calelon would have missed such a thing besides. So I …I do not understand – your walking and your ability to write…is it due to the burns? Can you not use the limbs properly anymore?"

The Elven King could see his Commander would not come to the correct conclusion anytime soon and after all why would he? Blindness was not something that elves ever thought about – it did not afflict the Eldar as it did the Edain who suffered it in their dotage. Nor could Thranduil think of any instance in all his long years of rule where an elf had been blinded – at least – not in his kingdom; so it was hardly surprising Aglardaer could not connect the dots.

"Blind mellon-nin. I have been blinded in my left eye."

~o~

"B-b-blinded?"

Aglardaer knew he sounded stupid parroting Thranduil but – he was in shock. He could not believe what his friend has just disclosed to him. He cast his long memory back but could not think of a single instance where he'd heard of an elf suffering from blindness – twas an Edain affliction – or so he had presumed. Yet here Thranduil sat telling him that he was blind in one eye.

Aglardaer studied his friend as a myriad of thoughts over the implications of the revelation swarmed his mind. "Are… are you certain that it is so?"

At the incredulous look Thranduil threw him Aglardaer amended to what he'd meant to say, "I…I mean are you certain it's a permanent affliction? Not just some complication in relation to the dragon's fire?"

"Oh tis permanent – it has been about a month total that I have been awake and aware since arriving back at the stronghold and in all that time not even a fleck of light has pierced the shroud of darkness in my left eye." Thranduil's voice held a trace of bitterness.

"And Calelon has told you there will be no change at all – I mean…your eye…it looks fine." Aglardaer scrutinised his friend further but Thranduil looked exactly as he always had. "If your eye was truly blinded should it not have that…that clouded look that the elderly edain get when they go blind?" The Crown Commander was thoroughly confused.

Thranduil's face twisted into a mimicry of a smirk that held no joy at all, "Calelon has assured me I shall remain blind in my left eye for the length of my remaining days upon Arda. And I know it is so because when I first awoke I was completely blind – yet as the days went by, with rest and treatment my right eye healed and I regained my vision as sharp as it has ever been…in fact I think it is somewhat sharper now. Flash blindness Calelon called it and it was indeed temporary; with my left eye however as I said – there has been no change whatsoever and so it shall remain."

Aglardaer shook his head still in shock, "Why do you not hold the same hope for your left eye to recover as the right has? I mean, maybe the 'flash blindness' affected your left eye worse than your right."

Something told Aglardaer he was clutching at thin air but…it just…it just could not be. Thranduil's eyes looked fine, perfectly normal…and yet the way his friend had eaten and walked across the room told a different story altogether.

The ramifications of such an injury would be huge for Thranduil. Could be huge for the realm. The silver haired commander felt the first stirring of panic really take hold of him - what was the end prognosis for Thranduil? Was blindness a thing elven healing could overcome given enough time? Or was Thranduil doomed to sail? If so what would become of the realm? Beleaguered as they already were after this latest devastating battle Aglardaer could not imagine too many of his fellow wood elves remaining in Arda should their great King take leave of it.

Aglardaer shook his head firmly to rid himself of his despairing thoughts and again focused upon his friend. "What then will you do? If this blindness is truly a permanent affliction – it will affect much in your life."

Thranduil sighed deeply and sadly, "Well am I coming to realise that – as you have seen even so simple a task as eating breakfast has now become a challenge for me and in all honesty mellon I am worried. Calelon and Mithrandir both hold high hopes for me still but in all truth I wonder if it can be done. Can one be a King with a disability such as I have now? I am having to relearn how to do numerous things – things that should be simple and automatic – eating, writing, walking – and they are all so very difficult thus far. How much more difficult then will be the things that actually take some skill? Riding a horse, climbing a tree, swordplay, firing a bow?

"Can it even be done? Or do Calelon and Mithrandir placate me with false words?" Aglardaer watched as Thranduil drew an aggravated hand through his loose hair. "How can I be a King and be so crippled? Do not our people deserve much more? One who is hale, whole and capable? They certainly do not warrant me pretending I can still lead and protect them as they deserve."

Thranduil's words were laced with guilt and bitter self-condemnation and Aglardaer could see in his friends eyes that the blonde believed every word of it and the Commander spoke up then; unwilling to listen to another minute more of his King's unwarranted self-flagellation and feeling guilty himself for the doubt and horror that he was sure had slipped onto his face at Thranduil's revelation of his blindness.

"Stop Thranduil, do not speak so of yourself. The people do have the King they deserve and I am sorry for not showing you that from the start. I was shocked – blindness is not an injury elves are familiar with but still, I should not have let my initial fears carry me away and for that I apologise."

Aglardaer gave his friend a bright and true smile, "I know I have nothing to fear and you have nothing to worry about. Of course," Aglardaer waved away a sound of protest from Thranduil, "I do not deny that the path ahead will be filled with difficulties as you recover and adjust to your new handicap but you are strong and still very much capable. It can be done and it will be done. You are still our indomitable King, our greatest King – you did protect the people as they deserved. You did not let Flammar and his wyrm horde get within fifty miles of the Wood and you cut down not one but two dragons singlehandedly. The people have sang praises of you and your bravery ere since we have returned from battle. Think you they will accept anything other than you returning to rule them? They are utterly enamoured with their 'Warrior King' - more so now than they have ever been."

"That was then – when I had two working eyes at my disposal. That was before, when I could run and jump and use my sword and bow and arrow to bring down said beasts and protect the people. That was when I was capable!" Thranduil took a calming breath before he shook his head slowly in despair, "I do not blame you for doubting me mellon – your concern is well founded. I do not know if I shall ever be able to walk and carry myself properly as a King should, or if I shall ever be able to fight again…I do not truly know if I shall ever be able to take up my rule again. For all the treatment and rehabilitation I have undergone thus far I still fear I may yet have to sail in disgrace."

Aglardaer shook his head firmly, "Nay Thranduil, you are far too harsh with yourself. You have had barely a month's worth of therapy and rehabilitation and yet you are ready to cast yourself aside. Your healing has only just begun; things look bleak now for you are at the foot of a very tall mountain to climb in terms of your recovery but just think of the progress you will have made in another month, and then another – by the end of this year you will forget having ever felt like this – so hopeless, that it could not be done. Everything is trying and difficult in the beginning, you know this."

"This is beyond difficult mellon, I have only been able to work on simple tasks thus far and even they evade me in terms of perfecting them." Thranduil sounded utterly defeated and dejected, "I just do not know if I can do this. There is so much to re-learn and adapt to – it feels nigh impossible to achieve."

The blonde King looked Aglardaer directly in the eyes, "So then mellon, tell me truthfully as you have ever done – can I still be King of the Woodland Realm? You know my schedule and the burden that Kingship brings upon me – tell me truthfully as my dearest friend – can I still do this? For I would rather sail now than to waste time and have the Realm hanging in limbo as I chase after a recovery that can never truly be. Mithrandir is a wizard who has his own reasons for wishing me to remain upon my throne and Calelon is the Royal Healer – it is his job to be endlessly optimistic for me but you are my best friend - so tell me the truth."

Aglardaer took a deep breath and held Thranduil's powerful if despairing stare, "Yes mellon, you can still do this. You are strong and you are stubborn," the Commander smirked, "and you can do anything you set your mind to. You have never let anything – no matter how difficult or devastating hold you back before and I do not intend to see you do so know. Find the strength of that young Prince who had Kingship thrust upon his unprepared shoulders in the middle of his deepest grief and who still rose to the occasion and saw his people through battle victorious. You have dealt with much difficulty and tragedy beforehand and though it is not fair you can deal with it and overcome it again."

"What is more you do not have to do it alone. Now that I know of your struggle and what needs to be done to help you overcome I will be here every step of the way, as will be the rest of your Elite, Galion, Thanniel, Arahaelon and most importantly of all your children – Rithel and Legolas. You need only let them all in and they will stand by you. You are well loved Thranduil. Perhaps more than you know or are willing to acknowledge. Just reach out to them and whatever support they can offer will be afforded to you."

Thranduil heaved a deep and heavy sigh, "Hannon-le mellon-nin, your words are kind and if you say I can do this then I will find strength from somewhere and do my best to overcome once more but…how…how do I tell…it was so very difficult to reach out to you Aglardaer, so, so very difficult – I worried how you would perceive me once I told you everything. I know now those fears were unfounded but that still does not mean I wish to tell all and sundry of my injuries and where I am at in my recovery."

"And I am not asking that you do – only that you let your nearest and dearest in to share this burden of recovery with you. Even if they can do nothing more for you than encourage you with a kind word or cup of tea surely that is better than you struggling through this in isolation?"

Aglardaer could see doubt and fear at revealing a perceived weakness still swam in his friend's eyes.

"Ok – why do we not take this in small steps? Why do we not start with those you find easiest to talk to and confide in – your children? You can talk to them, put their hearts at ease and delight yourself in them and their love. Let that get you through the first most difficult hurdles in your rehabilitation. Once you are strong enough to move onto the more difficult steps in your recovery – such as horse riding and sword play we can then tell the rest of your Elite and Arahaelon. You will look and be much stronger by then and hopefully you will not feel it as difficult to reveal your injuries to them then. How does that sound?"

Thranduil cocked his head and remained silent for a long moment before he slowly nodded his agreement. "Let it be as you have said mellon. I will have missives sent from me to my hîn bidding them to attend me for dinner – for I have missed them greatly." Thranduil waved a regal if bandaged hand, "Come then, see if you can offer me any tips on writing when half blind and let us see if I can manage to make these missives a bit less 'sloppy' than yours was."

The first true worry free smile crossed Thranduil's face then and Aglardaer grinned back glad to see it and the renewed fire in his friend's eyes.

~o~

Legolas smiled at his reflection in the perfectly gleaming pot before him glad to see all the elbow grease he had put into polishing the great cauldron had paid off. He put it aside with the others and turned to get another only to see he'd done them all. Slowly the young Prince eased himself up off the hearth, stood and stretched before he called across the great cavernous kitchen.

"Beleth I have done all the pots now. Do you have any others for me to polish? Or shall I start on the veg prep for tonight?" Legolas rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited for the head aesdan to assign him his next task.

His escape from his rooms to have a picnic in the woods behind the palace with his friends had indeed not gone unpunished and once it had been found out he'd played on the sympathies of the hard working, motherly cooks of the palace kitchens he'd been assigned to be at their beck and call for the next two months. It was hardly the worst of punishments Legolas had ever received though; most of the cooks had young, mischievous sons themselves and after Legolas had shown his strong work ethic all had been forgiven him. He still had to work out his punishment – washing and polishing pots and pans, peeling and prepping vegetables and helping to clean up the kitchens at the end of the day – but the longs days that began at sun up were interspersed with plentiful taste tests and treats from the cooks who could not find it in their hearts to stay angered at their sweet, fun loving Prince for too long.

As though to prove the point Beleth, the matronly head of the kitchens, sauntered over to Legolas and gave an approving nod of her head at the sight of the gleaming pans before she motioned Legolas over to a side table where she set a pastry and glass of spiced, warm milk before him.

"Eat up Ernil-nin you have earned yourself a wee break."

Legolas beamed at the elleth before he sat down to his treat with glee and a ravenous hunger fuelled by all his work in the kitchens that morning. The young blonde could not help but sigh blissfully as he bit into the still warm strawberry and custard tart. "Tis sooo good Beleth."

The plump elleth smiled, "Twas made using those strawberries you spent yesterday afternoon hulling. You deserve to taste a little of the fruit of your labours."

Legolas agreed whole-heartedly (hulling strawberries was boring, fiddly work) and fell upon his pastry with vigour. He had just started on his cinnamon spiced milk when a page appeared in the kitchens, breathless as his eyes roamed the vast room in search of his quarry.

"Ah, Ernil Legolas – I have a missive for you."

Legolas looked up warily as the page approached him and bowed before he offered the letter upon upturned hands still in his bowed position. Legolas eyed the missive with some trepidation – he had no lessons today and had been slated by Lord Arahaelon to serve in the kitchens until after dinner.

The page shifted minutely upon the stone floor and Legolas belatedly waved him up out of the low bow and took the letter. He popped the rest of his treat into his mouth before he pulled a small, hidden knife from his belt and slowly, so slowly cut into the missive. Legolas could feel the eyes of the page upon him and the concern from Beleth which did nothing to ease his own apprehension.

If asked the Prince would be hard pressed to explain exactly why he felt unease but the appearance of his sister Rithel in the kitchen doorway at the moment he cut through the seal – the King's seal, Adar's seal – set his heart to hammer in his chest. Rithel was hardly ever seen these days – buried in the paperwork that came in the aftermath of war – so whatever was in this missive could only be bad news. And yet…

And yet his muinthel was approaching with a positively pleased look upon her face. Rithel called her greeting to the kitchen staff who'd all dipped into low curtsies at the appearance of the acting Queen before she turned to him with excited eyes and a beaming grin. "Have you read it yet Las? Have you read it?"

Legolas shook his head 'no' and Rithel all but bounced in place as she impatiently gestured at him.

"Oh do hurry up then Las-nin – read it!"

Legolas moved swiftly then, hurriedly unfolding the letter before him and letting his eyes run across it before he stopped blinked and read it again once more – this time slowly.

"A-Adar…Adar wants…" words failed Legolas in his shocked happiness but it mattered not as Rithel grabbed him by both hands and spun him round the room in her delight.

"Yes Las – Adar has summoned us. Adar wants us for dinner!"

The kitchen burst into an excited clamour behind them as the cooks instantly begun to plan the evening's meal but Legolas heard not a word as he beamed back at the sheer joy that radiated from his sister's face. A joy he too felt. At long last, at long, long last they would finally see their Adar again.

~o~

Dusky shades of twilight were beginning to creep across the sky and along with the calls of animals and insects either turning in or wakening for the night the forest hummed with a leisurely tranquillity.

Which was in direct contrast to what the King of said forest felt. Thranduil was beginning to panic; he sat outwardly placid, having his hair brushed out by Calelon and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The glamour was perfect – flawless even – yet its strong pull on his magic was beginning to give Thranduil doubts over how much longer he could hold it in place for.

Usually by this time of day the Elven King had let his glamour go – content to take his dinner in the sole company of Calelon as the healer pottered about the room unbothered by his disturbing visage. Just over eight hours was the longest he'd managed to uphold the glamour thus far and the exhaustion that came with such a feat was starting to make itself known. Perhaps he had erred. Perhaps two visits in one day was still a bit much for him.

"Aglardaer," Thranduil turned slightly in the direction of his Commander, "I would have you seek out my children and tell them the visit must be put off for another time. I do not feel well enough for such a visit at present."

The silver haired ellon scowled, "Nay. Nay Thranduil you will not do this to them – not if I am to have any say in the matter. Both Rithel and Legolas have been anxious to see you for weeks. You will not cancel so cruelly upon them now – not when they are so very nearly due to arrive." Aglardaer crossed the room to stand near Thranduil and glared even harder, "If you want to turn them away then you had better fetch a page for I shall have no part in it."

Thranduil huffed an annoyed breath but he was undeterred, "Calelon – I would have you send a page t-"

"You would really be so callous?" Aglardaer interrupted angrily. "I thought we'd agreed that speaking to your children would be your next step and be good for you? I know you must feel anxious over seeing them but -"

"But nothing Aglardaer! You know nothing of which you speak – you haven't the faintest idea how I feel!"

"How do you feel Aran-nin?" Calelon decided it was time to cut in ere his King really got going. "You said you felt unwell?"

"Not unwell per se Calelon," Thranduil sounded defeated. "I am exhausted and I fear…I know not if I will be able to…to…" The blonde gestured irritably at his face.

"Ah I see," Calelon hummed as he set down the brush he'd been using.

"I do not see!" Aglardaer was still aggravated, "If you are not unwell then what reason do you have for turning away your hîn?"

"It is as I said Aglardaer," Thranduil's voice was cold, "you know not of which you speak. Did I not reveal to you that I have been blinded? And badly burnt? Do you really think that I have suffered such grievous injuries - from dragon fire no less - and my face remains unchanged?"

Aglardaer opened his mouth, doubtless ready to retort before he floundered as he thought it through. His eyes were confused and curious all at once as he began to study Thranduil's face in earnest. "I…your…but your face…it…it is unchanged…"

Aglardaer sounded unsure as though his own eyes might be playing a trick on him and Thranduil could not help the smug feeling that boosted his confidence in his ability with Hall Thurin; he was doing a grand job indeed if even his closest friend could not see nor sense anything amiss. The blonde King sighed heavily unwilling to reveal this last secret though he knew he must.

"My face is changed and dreadfully so at that – I now rather closely resemble an orc."

"Hardly an orc Aran-nin," Calelon cut in but Thranduil waved aside his protestations.

"My face is mangled regardless of what Calelon says – I look a half blind hideous wretch," the King carried on as he wilfully ignored another sound of protest from the Royal Healer. "However, again the wisdom of the Istari has come to my aid in the form of a glamour so generously taught to me by Aiwendil."

"A glamour?" Thranduil could see his best friend scrutinise his face even harder – looking for something, anything that would confirm Thranduil's words.

"Yes, a powerful glamour that covers and hides the horror that is now my face."

"I cannot sense anything though – not even a slight hint of magic about you." Aglardaer now looked a mix of confused and impressed.

Thranduil nodded, "And that is as it should be - Hall Thurin, for that is the name of the spell, when cast successfully can only be detected by the greatest of sorcerers and Istari."

Aglardaer nodded with a grin, "You are most successful at casting it then for as I say I can sense no magic about you nor can I see anything amiss with your face – you look as you ever have."

"It is a relief to hear you say so, to know that I have been as successful with Hall Thurin as I'd hoped but it is powerful magic and as such is rather draining. I cast it upon my waking this morn and have held it up ever since through my own magical powers – I am unsure if I will be able to continue to hold it perfectly in place throughout dinner with Rithel and Legolas. I fear I may be overexerting myself with two visits in one day."

Thranduil let loose a shaky breath as he confessed what truly troubled him, "I fear what they would think should they see the true horrors of what now lies behind my magical mask."

"Your children are not that shallow Thranduil you know that."

"You have not seen my face Aglardaer. You cannot possibly know how they will react."

"Crown Commander Aglardaer may not have seen your face but I have Aran-nin and I believe Hir Aglardaer speaks truly– you do Riel Rithel and Ernil Legolas a disservice. They may be shocked at first perhaps but they will not flee away in horror as you seem to be imagining. All will be well."

Aglardaer nodded, "Have faith in your hîn and their love for you. It is as Calelon says, all will be well. Your reunion will be a sweet one and do you all the world of good."

Thranduil remained unconvinced; he could feel the drain on his magic store from his continued use of Hall Thurin and wasn't confident he'd be able to hold it all the way through his reunion dinner with his children but he had missed them. Terribly so – Rithel with her tempered steeliness and quick-fire laugh and Legolas with his youthfulness and wild unbridled joy. They were what made life bearable and worth continuing after the death of his beloved wife. Thranduil knew he'd have long sailed or succumbed to the still present grief if he'd not had his children to cheer him.

They never failed to bring a smile to his lips, he adored them and he'd gone far too long now without their presence. For that reason along with the fact that he could see that neither Aglardaer nor Calelon were about to help him in his request to turn away his children the Elven King steeled himself with the promise of the joy he knew his children were sure to bring.

"Fine then, I shall leave the dinner arrangements in place and hopefully it shall be as you both say. Hopefully all will be well."

Calelon and Aglardaer both beamed at his decision and set to work. Calelon with arranging Thranduil's hair into sleek, simple braids whilst Aglardaer disappeared into Thranduil's temporary wardrobe to find him something 'suitable'. Thranduil rolled his eye and simply submitted to their ministrations. He instead turned his thoughts to seeing his children again - whole and in the flesh. It had been so long since he'd marched out to war, so long since he'd last seen them…

Thranduil found that he was almost excited.

~o~

Legolas bounced on the bed with youthful, unchecked excitement as Thanniel, his nurse-maid turned mentor, tried with great frustration to arrange the Prince's hair into the elaborate braids that would signal him as a royal.

"Legolas by all the Valar, these braids are difficult enough – will you just sit still!" Thanniel ground through teeth grit in exasperation.

Legolas turned so he could beam at her, "Sorry Thanniel, I'm just so excited to see Adar at last."

"Yes, I know penneth, but this will be the first time you will have seen him in weeks – it would not do for you to show up dishevelled and untidy. I am nearly finished, only another three braids to do and then we will be done – can you not just be still a moment and let me finish in peace?"

"But it's taking so long Thanniel," Legolas groaned in his own frustration.

"You were the one who suggested the braids Legolas." Thanniel's voice was sharp with the irritation she now felt, "You could have simply worn a circlet but nay – you insisted on these braids so do just sit and let me do them." The exasperated elleth made a parting in Legolas' golden hair and begun her braiding again none too gently.

Legolas huffed a sigh but stopped his bouncing and jigging, sat still and said nothing. He was in too good of a mood that even Thanniel and her fussing over him to be prim and proper could not dim it.

He was going to see his Adar. And by Elbereth herself Legolas could not think of a time he'd been more excited.

For he was going to see his Adar who was awake, aware and on the mend. And certainly gloriously so if he was already able to have visitors for dinner.

Legolas felt his leg begin to bounce again happily at the thought before Thanniel gave a warning huff of breath. The blonde forced himself to still again a smile slowly splitting his face. He truly felt so silly now; so silly that he had ever doubted his Adar would get well and take back his throne again.

His Adar was mighty, strong and the fiercest warrior the realm had yet produced. There was nothing – not even a dragon or ten – that could lay him low for long. Truly, Legolas almost shook his head, he really ought to have known better. He could have saved himself so much stress and heartache.

For the young Prince's heart had ached when he'd had his moments of doubt, when he'd though that his Adar was about to disappear from his life (just like Naneth).

They were close - Legolas and his Adar - with the Elven King doting on his youngest child and only son. They always took both breakfast and evening meal together alongside Rithel and Thranduil even took time from his hectic schedule to personally train Legolas in the art of fighting with short knives and twin swords. The Elven King also oft beckoned his young son down to his office to practice his Quenya and work on his arithmetic, the two working together in peaceful harmony until their tasks were finished or until Legolas got restless and needled at his Father to quit for the day. And if, if Legolas had a night terror – the one that plagued him from time to time with shadowy figures and the screams of his Naneth – the Elven King never failed to let his son join him in bed. And he never mentioned it within hearing of any other come the next morning.

So Legolas had missed his Adar – dreadfully – and the moment of their meeting again could not come quick enough for the Elven Prince.

"There, done – see you can sit still – I knew deep down you were no longer a mere fitful elf babe." Thanniel gave Legolas a light smack with his silver comb upon his shoulder before she moved to stand in front of him and gave him a sweeping look of final inspection.

She nodded, satisfied at last, "There you finally look a Prince, and just in time too – your gwathel will be here any moment now to escort you down to see your Adar."

Legolas bounded up off the bed and enclosed Thanniel in a quick hug of sheer happiness, "Thank you Thanniel – I really can't wait. I want to hear all Adar's war 7-stories and how he slayed those beastly dragons. I hope Rithel hurries - I'm so, so, so excited."

~o~

Rithel walked with measured, assured steps – Legolas loping along happily at her side – as they made their way down to the healing halls. Her confident, regal strut showed none of the anxiety and worry she felt within. The Princess had numerous cares that whirled round and round her mind.

Just how healed was their Adar? Sure, he was well enough to have them as visitors but they were visiting him in the healing halls – so clearly he still wasn't well enough to be released back to his own rooms. Rithel couldn't help but recall Calelon's initial dire diagnosis of their Adar's injuries; things had been so very grim then that she could hardly dare to believe they had improved this much. Deep down Rithel had been bracing herself (and still was if she were quite honest) for bad news, terrible news (just like with Naneth). So to instead get good news was somewhat difficult for the Princess to process and she was still half in disbelief – still waiting for the terrible thing she'd been bracing against for so long now to reveal itself.

It was a dreadful mind-set to have; Rithel glanced over at her baby brother who was so obviously filled with joy over the news regarding their Adar. That, that was how she ought to behave too but instead the spectre of dread diagnoses and doubt filled her mind.

Along with her ever present anxiety over her running of the realm. Lord Arahaelon himself had praised her handling of things – extoling her calm and steady influence in the aftermath of war. It was high praise indeed coming from one as dour as her Adar's right hand ellon but it did nothing to ease the inadequacy Rithel felt.

Her Adar was beloved as King – adored, cherished, respected. He ruled firmly but fairly and was much-loved by their people for it. Thranduil's were quite big shoes to fill and Rithel felt as though she hadn't even the slimmest hope of doing so. And so she worried, worried and fretted over every decision she'd had to make and what her Adar would have thought of it. Worried whether if…no when he made his return to the throne that he'd find the way she'd handled things to be lacking. Worried he'd be disappointed in her.

So for all that she was pleased to receive the summons to dine with her Adar whom she'd dearly missed she was plagued by apprehensions a plenty too.

But the time for all such thoughts was at an end; the astringent smell of powerful herbs alerted Rithel that they'd arrived at their destination.

The Princess took a deep breath and with Legolas' hand secured in hers she gave a firm knock upon the door before them.

~o~

"Mae govannen Riel-nin, Ernil-nin."

Thranduil watched with hungry eyes as first Calelon then Aglardaer greeted his children. Finally with twins bows in his direction and parting words Thranduil paid no heed Calelon and Aglardaer took their leave and the Elven King was at last able to drink in the sight of his hîn.

They looked well. Rithel, his beautiful daughter looked every inch the acting Queen she was meant to be right down to her Naneth's crown and Legolas, his precious son looked immaculate and radiated pure joy.

And Thranduil could not help himself – he hadn't meant to get up or walk about or anything but eat really; he'd meant to wait for his children to approach him but found he could not. That would take far too long and he could not wait a moment longer – the Elven King all but leapt from his chair and in a few hurried, clumsy, stumbled steps he had them both caught up in his arms again right where they belonged. Safe, whole, happy and his.

Thranduil was delighted to feel himself being just as fiercely hugged back – enveloped on both sides by the love of his son and daughter. The Royal family stayed so for a long moment, content to simply enjoy the warmth, the joy and love expressed in the almost desperate embrace.

"Words cannot express how pleased I am to see you both again."

"Adar I'm so happy to see you again! I truly am."

"It is good to see you Adar – you've been terribly missed."

Thranduil laughed at their simultaneous expressions of joy before he gestured Rithel and Legolas to the table that had been set for them. "Come, let us enjoy what the cooks have so generously prepared for us and you can both fill me in on things. I have been cooped up in here for far too long now – tell me everything."

Rithel and Legolas took their seats as bid and it was as if no time had passed at all since the last time the family had sat together for a meal, such was the ease with which they fell back into old, familiar, comforting ways. Chatter flowed easily between them as they laughed and caught up on each other's lives in between enjoying the generous and delicious food before them.

Talk as they ate steered away from heavier topics such as the recently ended dragon war, Thranduil's absence and injuries and the Elven King was unsure if that was simply by happenstance or if engineered by the thoughtfulness of his children but the elder blonde was simply content to bask and enjoy his food as well as the joy, excitement and love he could feel radiated toward him by his offspring.

~o~

"So then, tell me what news of the Realm? And of the troops – have things settled back down again with them?"

Rithel placed her now mostly empty cup back in its saucer and gave her Adar a thin smile. They had long finished their meal and catch up and had instead switched to idle palace gossip as they'd sipped at chamomile tea and picked at candied walnuts.

Still, the Princess had known that sooner or later, despite her best efforts talk would turn serious – her Adar took his position as King very seriously after all and was bound to be curious over his Realm and its running. It was a topic the Princess had been dreading all evening – still so anxious over how her Adar might perceive her running of things in his absence.

"The Realm still stands worry not Adar – I have not destroyed all your hard work yet." Rithel affected what she hoped was a light-hearted voice as she worked herself up to go over things in detail and any scrutiny or criticism that might come from that.

"I do not doubt that nor you for a second iell-nin – I know the Realm would have been in good hands and I have already heard several reports as to your good running of things – I would simply like to hear your perspective – after all you are currently the one with the most insight."

Her Adar's words instantly calmed Rithel and she felt a small surge of pride, pleased to hear that her Father had received nothing but goods reports on her handling of things thus far.

"Normal life has resumed for both the civilian eledhrim as well as the maethyr – we have been careful to keep the civilians assured of your eventual return to good health and keep daily life as unaffected and normal as possible for them whilst the majority of the troops who were injured in the battle are now released and well on the mend. Regular patrols have been resumed with the addition of a new one – Dragon Watch – we will keep an eye on things in that area for a while yet considering the one wyrm that did manage to make good its escape. All in all things are running rather smoothly at the moment – there is still of course a rather lot of paperwork and a few things to work through as a result of the war but nothing truly dire or even pressing."

"Yes, Adar – 'Thel has been doing a wonderful job. You should be really be proud of her."

Rithel turned to her little brother who smiled back at her, big blue eyes begging her silence on his recent misdemeanours and subsequent punishments.

Rithel gave a slight shake of her head and smiled back, "Thanks Las."

Their Adar was smiling, likely having seen through their antics but he said nothing and simply gave an approving nod to Rithel. "I am pleased to hear that I have naught to worry about; that eases my mind for I shall have to ask you to keep up your good work for a good while longer I am afraid."

That wiped the smile off both their faces and Rithel felt her anxiety over her Adar's condition come back full force.

Thranduil held out a comforting arm toward them both, "Please, do not look so worried. I don't mean to make you anxious – it is only I have quite the long road of recovery and rehabilitation ahead of me ere I seat the throne again. Full recovery from my injuries will take some time unfortunately. Dragon fire is a mighty foe and no trifling thing to recover from."

Rithel hesitated then; unwilling to put voice to the concern that had niggled at the back of her mind all evening long. A concern that had pressed at her consciousness ever since she had seen the way their Adar had run toward them when he'd first greeted them earlier.

He'd been clumsy, stumbling and his walk toward them had been far from the arrogant, assured, straight-backed strut she had come to associate with her powerful Adar.

With a deep breath to bolster her courage, Rithel finally gave voice to the concern that had nagged at her all evening. "How do you fare Adar? Are you well? Truly well?"

~o~

Thranduil hesitated at the question. Honestly he knew it would come up sooner or later but as the evening had worn on into night the Elven King had held some small hope that he might escape this line of questioning altogether.

The King studied his children even as he ran through a myriad of things he could tell them – things that would soften the harsh truth of his current reality. Thranduil opened his mouth ready to give one of the plausible not-quite-truths but found he could not actually force out the words, the lies. Not when his children looked at him so.

Their faces were full of concern and their eyes shone with a potent mix of both love and fear and Thranduil found he simply had to, nay needed to tell them the truth. In all its gory glory.

With a sigh that felt and sounded as though it came from the depths of his soul Thranduil begun his tale.

He had an enthralled audience – Rithel and Legolas hung off every word he spoke.

At some point or other they'd reached over to hold his hands (one each) in a gentle show of support. The elder blonde was grateful; speaking of his ordeal was difficult – he still had some lingering worry over how he portrayed himself to his hîn. It was also simply a trying experience to recall and for the first time Thranduil properly realised just what an ordeal he'd been through. He had been so focused upon his recovery and getting better as quickly as possible that he really hadn't had time to process the true horrors he'd suffered.

It was almost enough to bring the King to tears, though he managed to valiantly keep them at bay thanks in no small part to the two hands that held his own so lovingly.

Still, the worst was yet to be revealed and Thranduil hesitated a good long moment as he thought over what he was going to do. He did not know how Rithel and Legolas would react. Was Legolas too young for such a sight? Would Rithel question his strength? Would they be repulsed and run screaming from the room? Would they treat him differently from here on?

Thranduil dragged a hand through his hair dishevelling the braids Calelon had worked so hard at earlier. There was nothing for it – he would do this and see if his best friend's words regarding his children and their unconditional love would prove true.

"I can see neither of you believe me when I say I am now half blind."

Legolas simply continued to gape at him in clear disbelief whilst Rithel, usually so eloquent, struggled with her words.

"I…I…it is not…it is not that I do not believe you Adar…it is just…" his daughter hesitated before she visibly pulled herself together. "Well surely if you were blinded and so badly burned there would be some 'tell'? You seem and look fine to me apart from your bandages – the only thing I noticed about you that was off, which made me ask over your health in the first place was – your…your walk…"

Rithel was back to stuttering, "…when…when you came up toward us…you were somewhat clumsy on your feet. But…but I do not see how that equates to…to…blindness…" The Princess whispered the last word in a fearful hush.

"Your words give me confidence iell-nin – it means my recovery goes smoothly if the only thing you noticed was the clumsiness of my feet. Yet I am afraid I tell the truth. There is a 'tell' as you put it – a very big one – indeed it takes up half my face…my real face that is, for what you see now is but a glamour."

"A glamour?!"

Thranduil gave a barely there smile at the confused excitement in Legolas' voice glad he hadn't traumatised his youngest into muteness.

The Elven King nodded and decided to act quickly ere he lost his nerve altogether. "Aye, a glamour and a rather powerful one at that…behold…"

With another deep, fortifying breath Thranduil let his magical mask drop.

TBC.

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

Hir –Lord

Aran-nin - My King

Hannon-le – Thank you

Ellon – Male elf

Mellon-nin / Mellon – My Friend / Friend

Istari – (Plural of Istar) – Quenya for Wizards

Eldar – Elves

Edain – (Plural of Adan) Men

Hîn – Children

Aesdan – Cook

Ernil-nin / Ernil – My Prince / Prince

Elleth - Female elf

Adar – Father

Muinthel – Sister

Las-nin – My Leaf

Riel / Riel-nin – Princess / My Princess

Penneth – Young One

Naneth - Mother

Gwathel – Sister

Mae Govannen – Well met

Iell-nin – My Daughter

Eledhrim – Elves

Maethyr – (plural) Warriors

A/N: At last a new chapter, sorry for the wait – do continue to bear with me. Despite being on lock-down I am a key worker and so still not a lot of free-time to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) Be safe out there!