Disclaimer: Same as previous, yada, yada, yada.

                                                               Chapter 16

                                                 The room was dark when Legolas awoke. He cast his gaze about, disoriented, not remembering where he was for several moments. Memory flooded back, and he sighed raggedly recalling the events of the last few hours. Belatedly he winced, remembering what a light sleeper his father was. Thranduil woke with a start and moved to Legolas’ side.

                                                  “Legolas? Are you all right?” The Elven king laid one hand on his son’s unwounded shoulder, the other along his cheek.

                                                   “I am sorry I woke you, Ada. I did not mean to.” Legolas did not look him in the eye, embarrassed by his earlier emotional episode. Thranduil frowned, catching Legolas’ chin in his hand and forcing the younger elf’s gaze to meet his.

                                                    “As if I would mind. Do not be ridiculous, ion-nin. You have done nothing wrong and certainly nothing that you need be embarrassed by. Will you share what is burdening your soul with me now?” Thranduil watched his son’s face intently. Legolas as a child had been as quick to share heartache with him as he was to share joy, but as an adult he was reluctant to add to the heartaches he knew his father had in abundance, even if it meant that he bore his own alone.

                                                “Ada, you know what burdens me. You feel as badly as I do, you are simply more adept at hiding it.”  Legolas’ blue-gray eyes now met Thranduil’s steadily.

                                                 “Yes, however, I have unburdened myself to another and am not allowing my feelings to tie me in knots. Shall I ask Lord Elrond to assist you as he did me? I meant what I said to you earlier, I will not be offended if you would rather speak to him.” Thranduil refused to be diverted. “You must speak to someone about this or it will fester and cause you even more harm.”

                                                  “No, Ada. You knew Rieon, Ilmrie, and the others. I think it might be easier to speak of them with you. I only wished to spare you from reliving the attacks again.”

                                                   “Did it occur to you that I might benefit by speaking of them with you? Worry not about me, I have borne far worse and in truth I think that this will be healing for me, too.” Thranduil smiled at him, encouraged when Legolas smiled back tentatively. Father and son spoke until the first hint of dawn touched the sky. When Legolas finally drifted back into dreams, it was with the realization that his father had been right and he was at last beginning to heal.

                                                     Thranduil found himself unable to return to his rest. He made his way up to what had become his accustomed place for greeting the dawn. With a sigh, he leaned on the wall, resting his forearms on the ledge in front of him. He still worried for Legolas, but not as sharply as he had. Stubborn elfling, he thought ruefully, you take after your Naneth in your worry for me, though you know it not. Remembrances of his queen always caused a bittersweet pang and he smiled sadly. She would have been very proud of her son. He schooled his features into a less revealing expression as he heard soft footfalls behind him.

                                                    “This is becoming habit for both of us, mellon. Mae Govannen.” He smiled at Elrond as the half-elven lord approached. Elrond noted with satisfaction the absence of tension in Thranduil’s face.

                                                    “You seem better this morning. Did Legolas wake during the night?” Elrond asked, returning the smile.

                                                 “Yes, we spoke until just a little while ago. He is sleeping now. I think we may cease to fear for him, at least on this matter.” Thranduil confirmed Elrond’s suspicions. Elrond breathed a sigh of relief.

                                                  “As my children are older, let me assure you that you will never cease fearing for him. Especially since he has that endearing and terrifying habit of placing everyone else’s welfare before his own.” Elrond arched a brow at his companion, a devilish grin beginning to form. “Of course, we know from whom he inherited that trait, do we not?”

                                                  “Yes, and believe me when I say I wish at times that he had not. Of course, he also inherited his Naneth’s knack of finding joy wherever he goes, thank the Valar, or he would be far too serious for his age.” Thranduil’s humor vanished as quickly as it had emerged. “It may seem odd, but I find that one of the things I am mourning the most about all of this is the loss of yet another piece of Legolas’ innocence. Intellectually, I know that I should merely be grateful that we are both still alive, but I wish it had not been at such a cost to him. Is that extraordinarily selfish?”

                                                   “I do not believe it selfish at all, but rather a very normal reaction of a loving father. Neither of you could have done anything to change what happened and you both must learn to live with the fact that it did happen and the effect it has had on yourselves and each other. That, I think, is the hardest part for both of you.” Elrond paused, deciding that the subject needed changing before the good that the previous night had accomplished was undone. “Haldir told me that they saw no orcs last night on their patrol.  They plan to widen their patrol area tonight in the hope that they may be able to catch one of the creatures to question.” His face made it plain that he wished to have no part in this although he knew the merit of such actions.

                                                    “Well, I hope they do catch one of the vermin. I know that you find it distasteful, but it is the best plan we have at the moment. I dislike the thought of wringing information from anything, but in this case I believe it necessary.” Thranduil gazed out over the open area surrounding the keep to the trees beyond before returning his gaze to the troubled face of the Imladris lord. “Elrond, I think we need to feed our bellies and give our minds a rest from these weighty issues for a while.” He grinned impishly. “Ha, beat you to it.” Elrond merely shook his head, his mood lightened as Thranduil had intended. Thranduil swept his arm out in an exaggerated gesture for Elrond to precede him into the hall. His companion laughed aloud, and did so.

                                                       Breakfast was already in progress when they entered the Hall. The humans had become accustomed to the presence of the elves and had begun taking meals with them whenever possible. It seemed that Feren encouraged this, believing that the more his folk saw of elves, the more superstitions would be put to rest. Elrond agreed and readily answered questions and conversed with any who were bold enough to make the attempt, but Thranduil was still reticent, his long mistrust of mortals preventing him from doing more than offering the barest amount of civility to anyone who addressed him directly. The twins took their father’s view and were their usual gregarious selves teasing Letha and Weder, who they knew quite well, unmercifully. The elves from Lorien chose a middle course and were neither outgoing nor greatly reserved, answering any question put to them, but not initiating conversations. Haldir was the sole exception, his deeply rooted self confidence enabling him to speak whenever and to whomever he chose.

                                                As Elrond and Thranduil entered the Hall, Haldir and the twins were debating military tactics with Captain Narilt and a young man who resembled the captain so closely that any would recognize him as the guard captain’s offspring. Despite the long journey he had taken from Imladris and the sleepless night spent hunting orcs, Haldir was in fine form, postulating his opinion on the best manner in which to defend the Keep against a siege. Narilt listened intently, asking questions and requesting clarifications at the appropriate places. It was obvious the man was taking mental notes. Thranduil wondered what changes would be made in the Keep’s defenses as a result of this conversation. At least it seemed that the human was not too proud to learn from the centuries of experience Haldir had. It was also entirely possible that this was one of the reasons that Feren was encouraging the close contact between his people and the elves.

                                                 Thranduil skirted the group, nodding greetings to the elves. He made his way to the long table and selected several pieces of fruit and some bread. He still had trouble eating most of the human’s dishes. He had found that the spices sometimes disagreed with his digestive tract and usually chose to take the safe course and stick to fruit, bread, cheese, and the occasional vegetable that looked benign enough not to aggravate him. Finding a quiet section of the Hall, he settled down to break his fast. He had only eaten a few bites when he caught sight of his son entering the Hall. Legolas showed no signs of his trials the day before. In fact, he looked almost hale as he crossed the room to greet Haldir. The Lorien March Warden turned to clasp arms with him, warrior-fashion before continuing his animated lecture. Legolas left his father no doubt of his improved condition as he filled his plate and moved to sit next to him.

                                                  “If I still had worries regarding your health, ion-nin, they would be put to rest by the sight of that overloaded plate,” Thranduil remarked, grinning at his son’s blush. It was ridiculously easy to make Legolas blush, fair as he was, if one knew what tactic to use and his father was a master at it. Legolas returned the grin and applied himself to his meal without comment. Thranduil shook his head. Whatever his father’s issues with human food, Legolas seemed unaffected and avoided only the spiciest of foods from simple dislike.  They ate in companionable silence for several minutes.Thranduil finished first and set his plate aside. Legolas frowned at him.

                                                 “Ada, you are not eating enough. I know most of it is not to your liking, but you can at least take more bread and fruit.” Legolas fixed his father with a pointed stare.

                                                  “I am merely pausing for breath. Unlike you, I do not need to inhale or eat my weight in food at every meal. I vow, you sound exactly like your Naneth, fussing at me to take better care of myself.” Thranduil’s fond smile took any sting out of his words. Legolas grinned back unrepentantly.

                                                   “Did you heed her words better than you heed mine?”

                                                    “Not at all,” Thranduil chuckled ruefully, ruffling Legolas’ hair. “Not at all, much to her annoyance I fear.” Legolas ducked a mock-frown on his face.

                                                     “Ada, not the hair, please!” He made a great pretense of straightening his warrior’s braids while Thranduil chuckled. Legolas laughed as well, the sound music to his father’s ears. Giving in to his son’s wishes, Thranduil rose and returned to the table to take a second plate of food. As he returned, he noticed a small human child approaching Legolas. The little girl stopped a pace from Legolas and studied him intently, much to Legolas’ amusement. Thranduil resumed his seat next to his son, but his presence had no effect on the child. Finally, Legolas could contain his curiosity no longer.

                                                         “What can I do for you, my lady?” he asked, intentionally addressing the child as he would an adult, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

                                                       “Papa said you were hurt. Are you well now?” the child answered his question with her own, her brown eyes searching his face with what looked to be concern. Legolas could not help the grin that spread across his face.

                                                        “Not quite, little one, but I am much improved. I will be well very soon, do not worry for me.” He smiled at her, charming her into smiling in return.

                                                 “Oh, that is good! It would make me very sad if you were not. My Papa said that those nasty orcs hurt you very badly and I was worried that you would die from it like my brother did,” she stated solemnly, slipping her hand into Legolas’. “My name is Lilia, and I think you are very nice.”  Legolas squeezed her hand lightly.

                                                  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lilia. My name is Legolas, and I think you are very nice, too.” He stifled a chuckle at her attempt to repeat his name, thoroughly charmed by this bold little human. He patiently repeated it for her, pronouncing it phonetically until she could say it correctly. “There, you see, you did it. Would you like to know what it means?” She nodded eagerly. “It means ‘Greenleaf’, little one.” He wrinkled his nose at her, making her giggle. Though he would never admit to such aloud, Thranduil found the little human almost as endearing as his son did and had to fight to keep the grin from crossing his face at her antics. A woman crossed the Hall opposite them and catching sight of the girl swiftly made her way over.

                                                    “Lilia, where have you been?” she addressed the child, taking her hand. She turned to the two elves and curtsied deeply. “My lords, I apologize if my daughter has been bothering you.” She started in shock at Legolas’ chuckle.

                                                     “Not at all, my lady,” he answered, smiling. He met Lilia’s eyes and wrinkled his nose at her again, eliciting a fresh outburst of giggles from the child. Thranduil even unbent enough to smile a little, which reassured Lilia’s mother more than Legolas’ words had. She curtsied again, and dragged the child away much to her daughter’s displeasure. Legolas chuckled again, catching his father’s expression. Thranduil merely lifted and eyebrow at him, refraining from comment. A laugh caused both of them to look up.

                                                     “Look out now, Legolas, but I think you have another admirer!” Estel teased lightly, glad to see a smile on his friend’s face. “I think I will enjoy telling my brothers about this one.” He grinned wickedly, anticipating Elladan and Elrohir’s reaction. Legolas grimaced, but decided to fight fire with fire.

                                                     “Do that and I will tell them about that unattractive tavern wench in Bree that found you so fascinating,” he retorted in kind. He then winced, gulping as he remembered who was seated next to him. He muttered a curse beneath his breath at Thranduil’s expression, earning another glare from the elder elf. Thranduil glared for a moment, and then his expression cleared as he decided not to pursue the subject further.

                                               “Peace, Legolas, I am not in a mood to scold you at the moment. Consider yourself reprieved for now,” he grinned at his son’s stunned expression and rose. “Attempt not to cause any chaos today, ion-nin. I will see you later.” He crossed the Hall, deposited his plate in the tub that held the dirty dishes and exited. Estel and Legolas overcame their shock with remarkable speed, and after placing Legolas’ dish in the tub left heading for the salle.