Disclaimer:  see chapter 1

Author’s note:

Again many thanks to Erulisse and to Selene Aduial for beta reading this story for me. 

Chapter 5: what shall we do?

Thranduil jerked up, feeling a light touch on his shoulder. He blinked, when he saw that is was already dawn. With a quick look around he wondered where his wife had gone. He had not intended to fall asleep.

“You should rest, Ada. I will sit with him,” Galadhion said while glancing at his father, trying to judge his mood. He was sure that the King had not forgotten about their dispute a few hours earlier. He sighed inwardly, when his father didn’t seem to notice his anguish. The King´s mind might seem too occupied with worry to sense the tension inside his eldest but Galadhion knew better.

Under the surface his father was still angry over his request and would not be so easily placated nor could he hope that his father would consider his words. Thranduil was disappointed with him and made no secret of this and that was hard to bear for the crown prince. He always tried hard to please his father and merit his approval. Not an easy thing if said person was both father and King at once.

Thranduil glanced over to the large bed, where his youngest son lay. He could barely distinguish the pale face from the white linen of the pillow. Nonetheless the boy seemed to breathe easy enough, even if was still laboured.

With a reluctant nod he rose from the chair he had spent the night in and walked toward the door; but he did it without looking at Galadhion.

Suddenly Saeron’s breaths became ragged again and he struggled to inhale properly. Having nearly reached the door Thranduil spun around and returned quickly to his son’s bedside. After sitting down on the edge of the mattress he lifted the small fragile body up and held him gently against his chest, all the while rubbing soothing circles over his back and murmuring quietly. “Shht, little one, calm down, I’m here,” he whispered into the elfling´s ear.

Galadhion stood there shocked. How often would this scene have to repeat itself the crown prince wondered with increasing frustration? “Fetch the healer,” Thranduil ordered with a controlled tone still not looking at his eldest. Galadhion swallowed. He knew this tone all too well. His father was still angry.

Looking at his struggling brother and the rigid back of his father one last time Galadhion turned and hurried out of the room. Again, the healers would not be able to help. Nonetheless he ran down the corridor toward the healing ward. Maybe they had managed to find something by now that would help his brother.

Meanwhile the King rocked his youngest back and forth and spoke softly to him, yet it didn’t calm the boy this time. On the contrary, the desperate attempts to draw breath grew more and more frantic. The King struggled to breathe himself when he saw the panic in the elfling´s eyes; eyes that could not understand why he did not help like he always had previously. An icy fear grabbed at Thranduil´s heart at his fruitless attempts to calm his little son.

After a few more ineffective intakes of breath Saeron went limp in his father’s arms. Releasing a strangled sob and in near panic Thranduil grabbed the boy at his shoulders and shook him gently. “No, please, don’t do this to me. Saeron come on, you must breathe,” he shouted with tears in his eyes.

Having heard the shouts; the door burst open and Mirkwood´s chief healer hurried inside, Elarinya and Galadhion on his heels. The Queen’s face went pale when she looked at the motionless form of her child. Shocked she sought the eyes of her husband. She had just left to consult with the healers and had not been away for more than half an hour. The boy had seemed well then and now he looked like he was already dead.

Rushing past his Queen Thondil stepped in front of the King and stretched out his arms. Wordlessly Thranduil handed the still body over, only just now recognizing how badly his hands trembled. Thondil took the boy quickly and laid him flat on his back on the rumpled sheets of the bed.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he dipped a linen cloth in a bowl he had brought with him. The air was suddenly filled with the intense scent of herbs. The healer quickly pressed the sodden cloth over the boy’s mouth and nose and forced the elfling to inhale. He knew that the boy still inhaled, even though it was much too shallow to provide the lungs with enough air. He hoped that the scent of the herbs would get past the fluid blocking the lungs and relax the cramped muscles a bit.

Elarinya had moved closer and fearfully grabbed her husband’s arm when she saw the already bluish tinge of her babe’s lips. Endless minutes passed, while no one dared to breathe. Silent tears ran down the Queen’s face, while she watched the desperate attempts of the healer to coax the boy to inhale again. Galadhion had grabbed the wooden foot board of the bed so hard that his knuckles turned white. The King showed no outward reaction, only staring intently at his child. Yet his still trembling hands betrayed the lie of his calm appearance.

Finally the boy took a shuddering breath. Elarinya´s knees went weak at this sight. Only the quick reaction of her husband saved her from falling onto the floor. Steadying his wife by holding his arms secure around her waist, Thranduil looked anxiously at the face of his little son, when he tried to inhale again. The process was slow and painful and everyone in the room feared that he would not manage to take another breath. But then he took another much needed intake of air and another….

Thondil wiped the sweat-covered little face with a wet towel and watched as the breathing stabilized. He let out his breath in relief after the boy had calmed down enough to sleep. The lips had lost their bluish tinge but now the cheeks were again flushed from the fever. This time they were lucky but what would happen when the next seizure came? The lungs of the infected people were full of mucus, which slowly but surely brought death through suffocation.

Elarinya could barely watch the struggle of her child. “I can’t stand this any longer,” she whispered and buried her face in her hands while silent sobs shook her slender body. The King’s face was a mask. How could he have hoped that his son would be spared? But what should he do?

“Naneth,” Galadhion said into the silence while stepping next to his mother. He could not bear the heartbroken anguish any longer. “Do not despair. I’ve sent for help.”

The words had barely left his mouth when three heads snapped up and looked at him. Galadhion involuntarily stepped back. His mother’s red rimmed eyes looked confused; the healer’s reflected surprise and the King’s eyes narrowed with incredulity.

Disentangling herself from her husband’s hold, Elarinya turned toward her son. “What do you mean by that?” she asked while looking intently at her eldest.

Knowing that there was no way back now, Galadhion swallowed nervously with a side glance at his father. “I’ve sent Lord Elrond of Rivendell a message with the request to help; if he has any cure for this plague that is. I sent a carrier pigeon a few hours ago. It should reach Rivendell by nightfall.”

Stunned speechless the Queen contemplated what her eldest had just told her. She knew of course how hostile the atmosphere was between the two elven realms and she could not imagine how the Master Healer from the hidden valley would react to such a request. But the greatest surprise to her was that her husband had agreed to such a request.

The silence beside her, however, startled her and she turned to look at her beloved’s face and there she got her next surprise. She had never seen so much anger in her husband’s eyes, at least not directed at a family member. She was shocked. What was going on here? Had Galadhion acted on his own, or had the King known about the request and forbidden sending a message? Had Galadhion acted against his father’s wishes and sent the letter anyway? Judging by the stormy expression on the King’s face she guessed the latter assumption was right.

Before she had a chance to ask for an answer to her many questions, the King grabbed his son’s arm and dragged him out of the room leaving his stunned wife and his chief healer behind. Outside the room he pushed Galadhion against the corridor wall and stared hard at his son. “I repeat your mother’s question. What do you mean with that statement?” he asked in a low voice.

Galadhion momentarily held his father’s gaze, but then quickly dropped his eyes. “Please, Adar, I only want to rescue my little brother,” he stammered suddenly not so sure he had done the right thing anymore.

Stepping back a pace Thranduil took a deep breath. “And what do you think I want to do, huh? This Half-elf cannot help us!” the King shouted. Cringing at his father’s sharp tone Galadhion looked up.

“But, Adar, nothing had helped so far, maybe…..”

With a wave of his hand Thranduil stopped his son. “Stop, this Galadhion. I - do - not - want – that Noldor in my house. He is to blame for the death of your grandfather and so many others. He’s not the one who can rescue my son!”

Having nothing to lose now Galadhion shuddered, knowing that he walked on treacherous ground. “But, Ada it’s over 3000 years past, should you not try ….? Galadhion stopped stunned, when he looked at his father’s face.

The King’s irate expression had suddenly vanished and was replaced by a sadness that nearly took the younger´s breath away. “Ada?” Galadhion whispered, his voice quivering.

Stepping further back the King turned. “Do not tell me what to do. You may go. You have betrayed me.” With that the King re-entered the room of his youngest, leaving a shaken and miserable Galadhion behind.

The words hit him like a physical blow. Galadhion looked bewildered after his father and staggered back until he banged against the opposite corridor wall. He had managed to destroy the trust his father had in him. The disappointment he had seen in his father’s eyes would leave a scar on both of their hearts.

Forlorn, he stood there a few more minutes, momentarily at a loss about what to do. He wanted nothing more than to rush back into the room, beg for forgiveness, and explain everything to his mother, but he could not. He knew from experience that his father would not listen to him now. Suppressing the tears that threatened to spill, he walked down the corridor. “I hope you are as good as people say, Elrond Half-elven”, he prayed silently.

When Thranduil re-entered the room and sat down on the bed again, he saw to his immense relief that his youngest had relaxed and was sleeping now. With a thankful nod he released the healer and looked at his wife. Seeing her imploring gaze, he took a deep intake of breath and braced himself against the unavoidable question that would come now.

Elarinya grabbed the hand of her husband and looked him in the eye. “What did Galadhion mean ‘help is on the way’?” she asked, her tone a mixture of irritation and hope.

Shifting to better face her Thranduil sighed. “Galadhion has send Elrond a letter with a request for help; against my wishes,” the King added sadly, barely able to suppress the anger that was rising again.

The Queen gasped. Her assumptions were right then, but why had Galadhion been tempted to act thus? But then, when she listened to the laboured breathing of her child, she knew the answer and could understand the intentions of her eldest. The Master Healer of Imladris was not known as the best healer in all of Middle Earth for nothing. Maybe he could provide help where their own healers had failed thus far. The more she thought about that, the better she could understand her son’s actions. But going against his father’s wishes was something she could hardly approve of.

Seeing the many emotions flittering over his wife’s face, Thranduil looked at her in bewilderment. “Do not say that you agree with him!” Thranduil growled. When a shudder ran through the slim frame of his wife and tears gathered again in her eyes, he quickly stood and embraced her, feeling ashamed about his harsh words. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, holding his beloved tight.

Elarinya relaxed a bit and raised weary eyes at her husband.

“I understand your anger, but maybe Galadhion is right and Elrond can help us?” she whispered frustrated over the entangled situation.

Releasing his wife the King sat back down on the bed heavily; still wanting to keep a watchful eye on his youngest sleep. Deep down in his heart he knew that his eldest was right and that the Lord of Imladris was maybe their last, or worse, their only chance to save his son and all the other elflings. Had the long years of his hard life made him so bitter that he could no longer accept help, that he could no longer see reason? But Elrond…of all elves why did it have to be Elrond?!

Seeing the battle raging inside her husband’s heart Elarinya kept silent hoping that the King could work out his feelings for the best. She would not interfere with his wishes as long as he acted reasonably. But she would also seize every chance to save her son; even if it meant going against her husband’s wishes. The way that Galadhion had acted was not right, but the reasons behind his actions were sound.

Seeing her husband clenching his fists Elarinya knew that the King could not so easily overcome old grudges and his pride. She wanted to show him that she stood by his side, but also that dire situations needed courageous decisions.

“Do not overreact. Do not be too harsh with Galadhion. We must think of Saeron now. You two can work this out later. Maybe that’s the best course of action.”

The King’s ire was still high, but nonetheless he nodded. “I’m just so disappointed in Galadhion. He could have asked me again and….” The King trailed off, knowing that he was lying to himself.

“Would you have listened to him?” Elarinya asked knowingly while tenderly grabbing her beloved’s hands again.

Shaking his head unwillingly Thranduil rose and planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “You are right. We will talk about this later. It’s only….”

“What?” Elarinya queried, as the King trailed off again.

“I do not know how to face Elrond,” Thranduil confessed softly.

Now a real smile broke across the Queen’s face. “Let me help you. I will always stand by your side.” Sighing deeply Thranduil kissed her again. “I know and therefore I’m forever grateful.”

Together they took their places on the bed again, watching over their youngest.

To be continued………………………