Disclaimer:  see chapter 1

Author’s note:

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

Chapter 15:  Ada, I love you

With an arm around his wife’s waist the King followed the healer from Imladris into Galadhion´s chamber. Elarinya was lightly leaning against him for support. She looked exhausted, her eyes red rimmed from crying. ‘’I guess I do not look any better,’ Thranduil thought grimly.

They had agreed on transferring the prince to his own rooms, hoping that the familiar surroundings would somehow bring a positive reaction. But up to now this was not the case. The prince had still not moved a muscle or showed any indication that he interacted either with his surroundings or with the elves caring for him.

Elarinya was most anxious about the experiment Elrond wanted to perform with her son. Despite his explanations she could hardly imagine how the healer intended to reach and contact her son’s mind, much less how her husband would be able to help him in any way. Not that she doubted her husband’s abilities but neither she nor Thranduil had ever done something like that. The race of elves shared a very close connection with their children, that was true, but this attempt to consciously reach her son’s mind and coax it to respond was beyond her comprehension.

A look into her husband’s eyes told her that Thranduil was as unsure as she was. Like her, he would do anything to help their child find his way back from wherever his mind had retreated to, but the fear of failure was high.

Despite answering as many questions as he could Elrond could not destroy the worry. In fact their doubts had actually increased rather than lessened. It was no recipe that Elrond wanted to put together here. He had no clear concept himself about how to do this. He would have to decide spontaneously.

Despite that Thranduil was very determined to try. What did he have to lose anyway and what did he fear - that Galadhion would not respond to him or forgive him? With an inward sigh he hoped not.

After checking on his unconscious patient, Elrond bade all the elves present, save the King and Queen of course, to leave the room so they would not get distracted. Thranduil gave strict orders that they should not be disturbed. Maybe they had only one chance to call his son back.

Thornil and his apprentices were very glad to leave the room, feeling out of place and incompetent. Elrond had come to a respectable agreement with the King’s healing staff, making the palace healers not feel replaced. Thornil had even, every so often, declared that he was very grateful for the Master Healer’s presence and that Elrond did not to have to feel any disquiet about offering his aid.

Elarinya looked lovingly at her son. If one did not know better he appeared to be sleeping. The outer wound had healed and the signs of the battle had faded; any casual observer could easily assume he was asleep. But they all knew better. The wound that mattered went deeper. If the mind was not healed the body could not heal either.

After planting a last kiss on the cold forehead she settled herself on a couch opposite the bed. From there she could watch all that was happening. She wanted to be prepared if her help was required even though she had absolutely no idea how she could provide any kind of assistance.

Smiling at her briefly Elrond sat on the mattress on the left side of the motionless body and motioned Thranduil to sit opposite of him. Seeing the stiff posture of the King Elrond laid a hand on the King’s forearm.

“You must still your nerves, Thranduil. I will guide you. Regardless of what will happen I’ll be with you, but it’s your presence that his mind will answer to. Be honest and hold nothing back. Then he will respond to you.”

Nodding mutely Thranduil tried to slow his rapidly beating heart. He did not understand a word of what Elrond was talking about but he would do all in his power to call their son back.

Looking intently at the disturbingly closed eyes he started when Elrond grasped his left hand and laid it on Galadhion´s chest. Elrond did the same with his right hand.

The healer placed his left hand on the young elf’s forehead and closed his eyes. Sceptically the King watched while the healer took deep calming breaths. What was he supposed to do?

Somehow he felt awkward. This was his son he was touching with all the gentleness he could, but how could he achieve anything with this? Mimicking the healer and closing his eyes the King tried to focus solely on his son’s song. Feeble as it was he could still recognize his connection with Arda, with his family, and with life, but he was shocked how disturbed the thread already was.

For long minutes nothing happened and he was about to open his eyes and ask for an explanation when suddenly he felt a slight tugging at the edge of his mind and before he could consciously comprehend anything his mind was trapped in a whirlwind of motion.

He gasped involuntarily and his entire being screamed to resist this presence invading his thoughts but he somehow managed to stay in control and let the other guide him wherever it would lead him.

The mad rush his mind was forced to follow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Before his mind’s eye he saw himself standing on the edge of a long and dark tunnel of some sort. Having never experienced something like this before he stood there shrinking back from the utter darkness emanating from the tunnel. He looked warily around but could not distinguish any shapes around him. All was motionless, almost wavering.

Feeling a touch on his shoulder he jumped, whirled around and looked surprised at the face of the healer. Then he scolded himself. Whom had he expected to see? However despite the awkwardness of the situation he could hear the healer’s voice clearly. “Go down the tunnel. At the end you will find what you search for,” the dark haired elf said cryptically.

Looking sceptically back into the dark tunnel the King was not sure what to do. Would Elrond not accompany him?

“Follow your heart,” the healer advised, gently nudging the King forward. Swallowing Thranduil took a few careful steps into the tunnel.

After a few meters he looked back over his shoulder and nearly let out a cry when the healer had vanished. First he felt a surge of panic, but then his self confidence took over. He was here to rescue his son. He would go anywhere to achieve this goal with or without the healer.

Resolutely he directed his gaze forward and carefully set one foot in front of the other. The further he went into the tunnel the deeper the darkness seemed to grow, but every tunnel had an end and there was always a light at the end of every tunnel he reminded himself. But the longer this walk lasted the more doubts crossed his mind. What was this dreadful place? Would he really find Galadhion here somewhere? How distressed did his son have to be to hide here?

Just as he wanted to stop he could see a faint light coming from the end of the tunnel, but was it really the other side? The light seemed to come from everywhere at once - the roof, the bottom and the walls. It was eerie. He was still in the middle of the tunnel and it seemed suddenly that it had no beginning and no ending.

But then his breath caught in his throat. Not four steps away from him he saw a figure cowering on the ground. He could not see the elf’s face but he knew without doubt that the slumped figure was Galadhion. With a cry of dismay he ran forward and knelt down beside the motionless figure on the ground. His son’s eyes were closed and his cheeks pale, almost the same sight he had left behind.

Galadhion showed no sign that he had acknowledged his approach nor did he react in any way to his presence. ‘How can I speak to my son when he is as unresponsive as before?’ ‘Thranduil asked himself desperately.

Overwhelmed by his guilt, while knowing that he had caused this state his son was in now, Thranduil reached out a hand and gently caressed his son’s cheek and called softly to him.

“Galadhion, I’m sorry for what I said to you. I’m not disappointed in you for what you did; it was the right thing to do. I know this now. I love you and you never betrayed me. I still trust you with all my heart. I was angry, but not at you, rather at me. Please, come back to us.”

After uttering the words the King edged closer to his still motionless child and gathered him in a strong embrace. The words had tumbled out of his mouth without thinking and he now recognized that they had come straight from his heart.

A wave of love for his child rushed over him and he nearly cried. How could he have doubted his son in the first place? His children meant everything to him and losing one of them would be devastating for him and also for his wife.

Still rocking the cold frame in his arms the King feared that his son would not forgive him, but then after long minutes the dark haired youngster stirred and slowly lifted his head to look hesitantly at his father.

The fear and uncertainty Thranduil saw in those eyes clawed at his heart anew. How could he have let it come so far that his son doubted his love for him?

After long minutes where father and son looked at one another Galadhion took a deep breath. “Ada?” he finally croaked. “Is it really you?”

Swallowing the King nodded. “Yes, Galadhion, it’s me,” Thranduil answered with a tear drowned voice, relieved to hear his son call him Ada; he had not heard his solemn child say this for a very long time. He lifted the chin of the young elf with his finger after the other’s gaze had dropped again. “Have you heard what I said?” he whispered.

The young elf nodded but did not meet his father’s eyes. The King frowned. They had not reached the core of the problem and somehow he could feel that his time was running short.

Gently forcing his son to look at him again Thranduil took another deep breath. “Galdhion, why did you ride out with so few warriors toward a battle that seemed lost from the beginning?”

Closing his eyes briefly Thranduil forced himself to ask what had haunted his nightmares since he had brought home his son’s nearly dead body. “Did you wish to die?”

Raising watery eyes Galadhion shook his head. “No, Ada, but I was disappointed, sad, angry and a thousand emotions in between. I betrayed you and lost your trust, and for what reason? The plague is unstoppable. I’ve failed to defend the realm, many of my friends and many good warriors are dead now. How could I wish to live on….?”

Thranduil tightened his hold on the shaking frame of his son. He had feared as much. “Galadhion, please listen to me. You’re wrong. The plague is nearly defeated, your brother is almost healed and, as I said before, you never betrayed me. I hope you can forgive my thoughtless words.”

The young elf’s head snapped up and he searched his father’s eyes intently. “Really?” was all he could utter before he hugged his father back after searching his eyes intently. “Of course I forgive you. I love you, Ada.”

Sighing Thranduil stroked the long black hair gently and simply held his son close. “Then come back to us. Your mother is nearly sick with worry and your little brother is determined to drive us insane with questions about you.” Smiling the young elf only nodded, savouring the strong arms encircling him.

Just as Thranduil wondered how this strange encounter would end, he felt the same tugging on his mind as at the beginning of this surreal journey and before he could utter another word and comprehend what was happening he was pulled back. He had wanted to stay a while longer to make sure his son had decided to return to life but he was unable to resist the mental call to end this now.

Slowly opening his eyes he blinked. Had he imagined it? Confused he looked at the healer still holding his hand over his son’s chest.

Elrond smiled at him. “You have done well, Thranduil,” he said and released the King’s hand. Doubtful the King looked at his son and was disappointed to see the still closed eyes.

“Give him a bit more time,” Elrond advised gently and laid a reassuring hand on the King’s shoulder. Sighing Thranduil rose and embraced his wife looking at him anxiously. “All will be well,” he reassured her while holding her close. `Please come back to us, Galadhion`, he prayed while the healer and his advisor silently left the room.

…………………………………………..

When Thranduil had regained some of his composure after the strange experience he beckoned his wife to sit with him on the nearby couch. Elarinya looked at him pleadingly; anxious to know what had happened during the time the two elves had appeared as motionless as her son.

Quietly he told his wife all he had experienced while being in his son’s mind. Relating everything and holding nothing back, Elarinya cried silently as she learned that her son had really contemplated the aspect of being killed on purpose.

Looking up into her husband’s face she saw the same desperate expression there. They had failed their child. What if Galadhion had died? They would have followed him without doubt, unable to live with the guilt. But what would have happened to Saeron then? Taking a shuddering breath Thranduil tightened his hold on his wife.

“I will never again let my personal feelings over the past rule me. This I promise you. I will not forget what happened but it will never affect my future life and certainly not the life of my family again. Please forgive me, Elarinya.” With a shaky breath the Queen brought her husband’s lips to hers and kissed him softly. Her affirmative echoed clearly in his mind.

As they broke apart Thranduil gasped and Elarinya turned alarmed to see what was happening but quickly a real smile broke over her face when she looked into her son’s eyes.

“Welcome back, my son,” Thranduil said while the Queen quickly grasped her son’s pale hand and squeezed it gently. “Yes, welcome back, my sweet.”

To be continued………………………….