Chapter Eight

Legolas slept until the afternoon of the next day before his inner being dragged his consciousness back into the waking world. It wasn’t a torturous journey, but it was a reluctant one. There had been no dreams, good or bad, just a warm sense of well-being. Well, almost.

Somewhere deep inside, on the very fringes of his mind, he knew there was a terror he couldn‘t define. Try as he might, he wasn’t able to grasp it and expose it to examination. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to bring it to the forefront of his mind anyway, so the dark feeling was pushed away, as he let himself be guided back toward wakefulness.

When he felt himself on the surface, he cautiously opened his eyes, not sure which world would greet him this time. With great relief, he saw that he was in the familiar world of light.

He saw Estel sitting on the bed pretty much where he had last seen him. This time the man was adjusting the covers that lay lightly over the elf. They didn’t need adjusting, having been smoothed out and folded and creased and smoothed out again over and over in the last few hours.

Legolas watched the ranger’s movements and shook his head ever so slightly. Estel was fidgeting while he waited for Legolas to awaken once again. He was normally very patient, but this wasn’t the first time the elf had seen his friend do little meaningless tasks to occupy his mind while he waited for something to happen that he was anticipating. It was, however, never done before a battle or in front of other rangers or soldiers or anyone else who might interpret this fidgeting as a reason to doubt his ability to lead successfully. It seemed to be a private thing when only close friends or family were around. It was done with unfocused attention and always caused Legolas to marvel that Aragorn’s mind could unconsciously make the distinction.

In an attempt to ease his friend’s obvious anxiety, he said, “The bed covers look very nice, Estel.” He was happily surprised his voice sounded almost normal.

The sound made Aragorn jump. He looked at Legolas and caught the amusement in those blue-gray eyes he knew so well. He quickly understood the reason behind the elf‘s words, so he played along.

“Well, I couldn’t have you waking up and complaining that the hosts of Rivendell keep their guests in rumpled beds. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.” He tried hard to look stern, but he was just too happy and couldn’t make his face do anything but smile.

The friends were so in tuned to one another that they could comfortably discuss, with absolute honesty, any subject under he sun. But, they also often used humor to lighten potentially intense moments.

First things first, Legolas decided. “I am thirsty,” he said, remembering that the first time he had awakened he had also had a great need for water There was no longer any soreness in his mouth, but it was parched and made swallowing hard.

Aragorn helped him drink an almost full cup of water. “Are you hungry?” he inquired, as he set the cup back down and eased the elf back against the pillow.

“Not now,” Legolas replied, much to the ranger’s surprise. He hadn’t had anything to eat since.... He shook off the thought. He had no intention of mentioning anything that had happened unless specifically asked. Estel knew the fear that had appeared in the Wood-elf’s eyes the day before would not be noticeable except by those who knew him well, and they wouldn‘t question him until they knew he first remembered what had happened and then was able to handle it. Aragorn decided instead to concentrate on the happiness that dominated the elf’s eyes.

Legolas did want the answer to a question of his own, so he asked, “How long have I slept this time?”

Aragorn’s smile didn’t diminish at all. “A day. It was yesterday, when you first opened your eyes. And, it was one of the happiest days I can remember.”

Legolas saw clearly the immense depth of Estel’s feelings, and it caused he, himself, to became overwhelmed with emotion. He held his arms out toward the man, and Aragorn leaned down and enfolded the elf in his strong arms. “Welcome back, mellon nin,” he whispered into his best friend’s ear.

“Hannon le, Estel. It is good to be back,” Legolas whispered in return, switching languages easily from one sentence to the next. Even having no clue as to what had happened since arriving in Rivendell, he believed that it had been Estel’s nurturing as much as the elf’s own fighting spirit that had brought him back to consciousness.

Aragorn gave Legolas an extra tight squeeze and then sat up straight with an even bigger smile on his face. He understood the feelings Legolas had, because he knew how he would feel in the elf’s place, and having him demonstrate those feelings this way meant the world to the ranger.

At that exact moment, Elrond was walking down the hall on his way to Legolas's room. Glorfindel was with him and asking how long before the truth had to be told, especially to Legolas. Elrond didn’t have a chance to answer, because just as they reached the door to the prince’s room, there was a commotion on the stairs at the end of the hall they were facing, and that commotion was heading up toward their location. It didn’t take a genius to know what was happening.

Elrond stood facing the stairs. He exchanged a glance with Glorfindel, who took a deep breath. They could have been hard of hearing and still would have clearly heard the booming voice directed at two unfortunate servants. “Where is Prince Legolas?”

King Thranduil of Mirkwood had arrived.

The two elf Lords watched as an imposing, blond-haired elf, looking every inch a king, strode toward them. His handsome face was a mask of storm clouds. He stopped barely a foot from the Lord of Rivendell. “Where...is...my...son?”

Up until now, Elrond had hoped to inform Thranduil about Mordraug before he did anything else, but he knew that the Mirkwood king would not listen to any explanations at this point. Elrond couldn‘t really blame him, either. He wouldn’t have let anything stop him from first seeing one of his children, if their roles were reversed.

With a sigh, Elrond stepped back and motioned to the door a few feet to his left.

Almost snarling, the woodland king said, “I will deal with you later, Elrond. And you, too, Glorfindel. Count on it.” Thranduil then pushed past Elrond and headed straight toward his son’s room. He unceremoniously threw open the door and left it standing wide open as he marched in.

Aragorn swung his head around when he heard the door fly open. He jumped to his feet, masking his feeling of dread, as he saw not just that Thranduil had arrived, but his angry countenance, as well. *He’s going to take Legolas away.* He knew it with absolute certainty. It was his first and only thought, and for the moment, it replaced the joy he had been experiencing since Legolas had awakened the day before.

Thranduil went to the same side of the bed where Aragorn stood, seemingly ignorant of the human‘s presence, though in truth, he was well aware of it. He didn’t look at the ranger. In fact, he didn’t look at anything except the figure lying in the bed. Aragorn was sure the elven king would barrel straight into him and knock him over, if he didn’t move, so he backed a few feet away.

When Thranduil reached the side of the bed, his furious expression softened into a look of pure love and no small amount of worry. His eyes never left Legolas's surprised and happy face.

Without hesitation, Thranduil pulled the covers aside and sat down. Reaching down, he put his arms around the back of Legolas's shoulders and pulled him up into a tight embrace. After a moment, he released his hold on his son and held him out in front of him.

“Ada. You have come.”

“I will always come, when you need me, Little One.” Thranduil smiled warmly.

“You have not called me that in a long time.”

“You have become an adult, Legolas, a brave and skilled warrior, and I am very proud of you. But, deep in my heart, you will always be my Little One.”

Thranduil again pulled Legolas against his chest. He pressed his son’s head against his shoulder and held him close, as Legolas's arms wrapped tightly around his father’s back. The elven King absently took a handful of Legolas's loose hair and pushed it behind his delicately pointed ear, stroking the golden strands over and over. He put his cheek down on Legolas's head and closed his eyes.

Thranduil loved each of his three sons and two daughters as much as any father can love his children. But, Legolas was his youngest, the one that most resembled his loving mother, who had been killed when Legolas was still very small. He also possessed her pure heart, fierce loyalty and lighthearted personality. Thranduil knew he would never marry again. This was his last child, and he cherished him.

The two sat for a long time holding each other. Thranduil rocked slowly back and forth. It was so much like the days of Legolas's youth, when he had held the child after the elfling had cried for his mother or become upset over one thing or another.

Memories overtook Legolas as well, as he also closed his eyes, remembering all the times his father had held him just like this. He felt so safe and secure in Thranduil’s arms. Adult he may be, but right now, this was the only place in the world Legolas wanted to be.

Aragorn felt as if he was intruding on a very private moment between father and son. There was no jealousy in the ranger’s heart. He turned and slipped quietly out of the room. His own father, both of his brothers, who had arrived after Thranduil’s loud entrance, and Glorfindel were standing just outside in the corridor, having witnessed the whole scene through the open door. They stepped aside and let Aragorn exit the room.

Elrond stepped forward and closed the door on father and son. “I do not know of anyone other than Thranduil, who can go from a furious king to a loving father in the space of a minute.”

“Did it take that long?” Glorfindel asked, shaking his head. He looked at Elrond. “He will go right back to being the furious king, when he walks out of that room.”

Elrond looked at the closed door and sighed. “I know.” He spread his arms out to encompass his sons and his friend. “Come. Let us give them some time together before the storm breaks.”

Only the faces of the two older elves did not reflect a puzzled expression. Elrond’s three sons were all sure those ominous words had nothing to do with the weather.

~*~*~

After what seemed like hours, Legolas sat back and looked at this father. “I am sorry to worry you, Ada.” He shook his head. “I do not remember anything that happened to me.”

“We can sort that out later, Legolas,” his father assured him. “All that matters right now is that you are all right .” Thranduil looked hard at his son. “Did that ranger get you into trouble?” His words were accusatory and bordered on anger.

Legolas shook his head. “Estel saved me, Ada. Please, do not try to blame him. I would not even be here or be awake, for that matter, if it were not for him.”

Thranduil signed. He never had totally approved of his son’s choice of a best friend. But, at the same time, he didn’t really dislike the human, once he had gotten to know him. He trusted Legolas's judgment, so if he gave credit to Aragorn, then he wouldn’t pursue accusations. “I will have to thank him,” was all he said.

Thranduil leaned forward and kissed Legolas on the forehead. “I am taking you home, but first I am going to find Elrond and get some answers.”

TBC