Disclaimer:  Don’t own it, never will

Sorry it's been so long since I last updated, but I've been busy with real life issues. A special thanks to my wonderful new beta, Bev!

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                                                The noon meal had come and gone and still Thranduil had not awakened. Legolas had forced himself to eat, knowing that Estel and Elladan were keeping watch over him and would not take kindly to any refusal of food. He maintained his vigil over his father, seated on the pallet he had occupied during the previous night. Elrond had assured him that his father was no worse than he had been the night before, but both Elrond and Legolas grew more concerned with every hour that passed. They had made the decision not to move Thranduil to a more private area, neither being comfortable with the thought of the wounded elf being very far from the healers.

                                                Legolas was unused to inactivity. In his father’s realm even on the rare occasions the he did not have duties he kept himself busy. Unable to sleep, he had requested several scrap pieces of wood to busy himself carving with the small knife he kept in his right boot. He had spread out a scrap of cloth to catch the wood shavings and was painstakingly creating small figures of animals. Placed before him on the cloth were a completed bear, a bird, and a squirrel.  His current project was a deer, a bit more complicated but served well to keep his hands busy and his mind occupied. Legolas did not consider himself particularly talented at carving, but he was rather pleased at how his busy-work was turning out. At the very least it kept his thoughts from going over the events of the previous night, and for that if no other reason, they were worth the effort. So intent was he on the task, he failed to notice the presence of another standing next to him until the individual squatted down and placed a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up into the amused face of Lorien’s March Warden.

                                                Haldir grinned down at the younger elf. He was relieved to see Legolas awake and in as good a shape as he was. Not many elves had gotten as close to an Ulairi as the prince of Mirkwood had and lived to tell the tale. Of the few who had, many had never recovered from the experience. Haldir noted the strain that still lingered in the face before him, and the pallor of Legolas’ skin, but on the whole he looked to be on the mend. He had known the prince since the younger elf’s infancy and counted him a friend. Indeed, Legolas was one of the few not intimidated by Haldir’s abundance of self-confidence and strong personality. The prince was also one of the few elves who could convince the somber March Warden to drop his serious mien and indulge in behavior more suited to his relative youth. Legolas’ last visit to Lorien had resulted in a late night raid on the kitchens and a booby-trapped study entrance for Lord Celeborn. The Lord had taken the resulting dowsing with flour surprisingly well, only ordering Haldir and Legolas to clear up the mess their prank had caused. He shook his head, still amazed that Legolas had managed to talk him into that one. Smiling wider, he addressed the prince.

                                              “You are looking surprisingly well, mellon-nin. How fares King Thranduil?” Haldir noted the worried frown that appeared on Legolas’ fair face at that question.

                                              “He is no worse, but no better either. Lord Elrond said he is in no immediate danger. I only wish he would open his eyes.” Legolas turned his gaze on his father for a moment, then back to Haldir who grimaced in sympathy.

                                                “Are you making a gift for your tithen gwath?  [little shadow]?”  Haldir grinned, having heard the entire tale from Elladan and Elrohir earlier that morning. Legolas merely smiled a bit sheepishly.

                                                 “She is a very endearing child and a bit of a mischief maker. I am surprised that she has not managed to elude her keepers yet this morning.” He turned the deer in his hands, examining it minutely for a moment. Haldir chuckled.

                                                 “She sounds very much like another young one I once knew,” he jibed, raising his eyebrows significantly at his companion. Legolas blushed slightly, but grinned back.

                                                   “Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir said something similar. Was I truly that much of a handful?” Legolas met the older elf’s amused gaze.

                                                   “Oh, you were worse but not nearly as terrible as the twin hellions Lord Elrond spawned. Even though I am not much older than they, I was shocked at some of the escapades they indulged in. You were also far better than they were at charming your way out of trouble, particularly if the elf to catch you was female.” Haldir’s grin widened at the flush that last statement produced on the prince’s face. The fascination that most females seemed to have with Legolas was an unending source of amusement for his friends. They loved twitting him about it, especially since he was so careful never to injure the feelings of the females involved even though he hated being chased. Haldir, Elladan and Elrohir had a private bet going that the first female who did not chase their friend would be the one to capture his heart. Haldir decided to be kind and leave that topic until Legolas was recovered enough to fight back. “I must go meet with Glorfindel. We are tracking the orcs. I will see you later, mellon-nin.” Squeezing Legolas’ good shoulder, Haldir rose.

                                                “Namarie, mellon. Take care that…. Simply take care. I cannot bear to lose another friend right now.” For a moment, Legolas‘ pain showed in his crystal eyes then he composed himself. Ordinarily, he would have told Haldir not to become a trophy on an orc’s wall. The jibe was a longstanding jest between the two warriors. Haldir merely nodded and exited the Hall.

                                                 Legolas ran a hand through his unbraided hair. Estel had taken the braids out last night while Legolas was cleaning the blood and grime off himself and Legolas had been unable to keep his arms up long enough this morning to braid it again. It was getting in his face and annoying him but short of asking for assistance, which he refused to do for something so trivial, there was no help for it. The fact that it made him look even more like an elfling than he already did just served to annoy him even further. He sighed, realizing that he was working himself into a truly foul mood and sternly steered his thoughts elsewhere.

                                                He looked over at his father for what seemed to him to be the hundredth time that day. Thranduil’s face was peaceful, and his color was better even than it had been that morning but his eyes remained closed. Legolas briefly laid his hand on his father’s arm, and then returned to his carving. The deer was almost finished and Legolas was starting to become a bit weary. He wanted to finish the deer and make a horse before he stopped for the day.

                                                  Activity at the far end of the Hall made him look up from his carving a couple of hours later. The healer and healer’s assistants were making their rounds. He regarded the wooden horse in his hands, turning it slowly. He made a few quick parings with the knife he held, then turning it again decided it was finished. He gathered up the wood shavings in the cloth as they would be good for kindling, and returned his knife to its sheath. The wooden carvings he laid on the corner of his pallet out of the way and settled himself to wait for the healer to get to him. He was not surprised to see Lord Elrond approaching a few minutes later. Elrond smiled briefly at him before turning his attention to Thranduil.

                                                   Elrond knelt beside Thranduil’s pallet and placed a hand on either side of the king of Mirkwood’s face. His eyes closed in concentration as he sought out the cause of Thranduil’s continued unconscious state. He bolstered the wounded elf’s strength and sped the healing of his wound a bit more before settling back on his heels with a sigh. He felt Legolas’ eyes on him and turned to the prince with a weary smile.

                                                 “He will wake, pen neth. He merely needs time to heal at his own pace. The stresses on his body and spirit over all the years of his life have affected his self healing a bit. Even from here he watches over Mirkwood and must split his attention between that and healing. Fear not, he will recover although not as quickly as you would like, I imagine.” Elrond smiled fondly at the younger elf. “Now let us see to you.”

                                                  “I am healing well, Lord Elrond. I am only a bit sore at the moment; do not trouble yourself on my account. I am sure there are others who need your skills more than I do,” Legolas protested quickly. Elrond arched a brow at him, his expression plainly stating that the lord of Imladris had not been born yesterday and was not fooled in the least.

                                                  “Had I any doubt that you were mending, elfling, that would have assured me. I will use my skills where I deem them necessary, do I make myself understood?” Elrond’s tone forestalled any further protest his reluctant patient might have made. Prince though he was, Legolas knew better to argue when Elrond took that tone. He nodded his acquiescence and Elrond moved to his side. Elrond did a more mundane examination of Legolas than he had of his father, asking what hurt and replacing bandages. He briefly laid a hand on the younger elf’s face, but pronounced him healing well scant minutes later. He ruffled the prince’s hair affectionately and admonished him to rest before moving on. Legolas could not help but return the older elf’s grin; his worries eased a small measure. He raised his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs, laying his head on his knees. It was a resting position he frequently used when he was on patrol and needed rest but dared not sleep deeply. He would drift into reverie, but would rouse if his father moved even the slightest bit or if anyone passed close to them.

                                                    Lilia peeked around the corner into the bustling kitchen. She had slipped away from her grandmother while the elderly woman napped.  She quickly scanned the room, paying particular attention to the window sill where the kitchen staff placed the pies and breads to cool.  She smiled, today it was berry tarts. The cook had a soft spot for Lilia and always made a couple extra treats for her. She quietly slipped into the kitchen, avoiding the workers who were less than friendly to wayward little girls and sidled up to the cook, tugging at the woman’s apron. The cook smiled indulgently at her.

                                                    “Well, little one, what adventure are you on today?” Lilia giggled at her.

                                                 “I am going to see my friend. May I have a tart for him, please?” The cook raised an eyebrow at her, unsure that this was not a ploy to get a second tart and further spoil her dinner.

                                                  “And who is this friend that needs one of my berry tarts? I do not hand them out to just anyone, you know, “the cook returned, fishing for information. Lilia giggled again.

                                                 “Oh, Marta! He is an elf and his name is Legolas. It means Green Leaf. He is very nice and he got hurt by the orcs and I think a berry tart will make him feel much better.” She smiled winningly up at the woman, whose eyebrows rose even higher at this revelation. Marta was not so immersed in her domain that she failed to keep tabs on the happenings at the Keep. She had heard that Lilia had taking a liking to one of their guests. Sighing, she handed the tarts to the child.

                                                  “Now mind that he gets one of those then, I do not want to hear that you ate no dinner this evening.” She shooed the child out and returned to her work.

                                                   Lilia made her was stealthily to the Great Hall. She slipped past the healer’s assistants and made her way over to the two wood elves. A frown crossed her face as she saw her friend’s father lying on one of the pallets. Poor Legolas! She had not known that his father had been hurt. He must be very worried, she thought.  Legolas was sitting next to his father, head resting on his upraised knees, arms around his legs. His hair was covering his face so she could not tell if he was sleeping. As she neared, he shifted slightly and swept his hair out of his eyes with one hand. Seeing Lilia, he smiled and beckoned her nearer. She grinned and trotted over, plopping herself down on his bed.

                                                    “Hello there, tithen gwath. I wondered if I would see you today.” Legolas raked his hair back and sat up, wincing as his sore muscles protested.

                                                    “Hello, Legolas. I brought you something to make you feel better,” she said handing him the tart. He laughed lightly, remembering his own childhood habit of raiding the kitchen in his father’s stronghold. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the tart was made of his favorite berries.

                                                     “Thank you, Lilia. Did you know that these are my favorite?” She beamed and proceeded to devour her own dessert. He followed suit, with more appetite than he would have given himself credit for. Dusting the crumbs off, he reached for the animals he had carved for her.

                                              “I also have a gift for you, tithen gwath,” he said bringing the carvings from behind his back. She squealed with delight and clapped her hands.

                                               “Oh, I love them! There is a bear and a little bird and a squirrel and a deer, and oh look, a horse! Oh thank you, Legolas!” She stood and flung her arms around his neck. He could not help the gasp of pain that escaped him and she jumped back immediately contrite. “Oh, I am so sorry! I did not mean to hurt you!” Her lower lip quivered. Legolas took a shaky breath, and then smiled at her.

                                                “I am fine, tithen min, do not fret. Just please remember not to hug me for awhile. I fell down the stairs from the top of the wall and I am very sore. See, I am better, do not cry.” He smoothed her chestnut curls out of her face and tweaked her nose playfully. She giggled a bit, and then sat down close to him to play with her new toys. He chuckled at her play, took up the carved bear and made growling sounds chasing the bear after the other animals much to her delight. The other humans in the room shot amused glances in their direction, but made no effort to interfere. The general opinion was that if the little one could take the elf’s mind off his troubles then she was welcome. Weder, who was quietly speaking with Elrond at the other end of the Hall, caught sight of the two and began to chortle. Elrond turned to see what had amused the human healer so and began to chuckle as well.

                                                A harried looking guardsman entered the Hall near Elrond and Weder, sweeping his eyes over the room. His gaze lighted on the little girl and he breathed a sigh of relief. He made to approach them and Elrond caught his arm, startling him.

                                                 “Peace, good sir, I mean you no harm. I wonder, would you happen to be young Lilia’s father?” Elrond’s quiet voice and serene expression put the man at ease.

                                                 “Yes, my lord, I am. Has she been a nuisance?” The guardsman’s expression was one of concern. Elrond quickly indicated the contrary, again trying to put the man at ease.

                                                 “On the contrary, we are all quite charmed by her. I believe her presence has aided some of the wounded by lightening their spirits. I would ask that you allow her to stay for awhile, if that is possible. She has Prince Legolas thinking of something other than his worries and that will do him much good.” To Elrond’s surprise, the man winced and his expression became one of guilt.

                                                  “Aye, it is fitting. Tis my fault that he fell, you see.” The man did not raise his eyes. Elrond sighed. What was it with warriors that they felt responsible for every little event?

                                                   “As I heard the tale, Legolas would surely have been killed had you not risked yourself to push him out of harm’s way. I have that from Haldir, the elf that requested your assistance in the matter. Now, I know Haldir and I know that he does not lie, so this is what I believe to be truth.” He bent a gaze on the guardsman that brooked no argument. The man nodded his expression lightening. 

                                                    “With respect, my lord, I would like to speak to Lilia for a bit. She may stay awhile if you think she is helping the prince, but I need to tell her to come straight home after.” Elrond smiled and escorted the guardsman over to Legolas’ pallet. Lilia looked up to see her father approaching and groaned.

                                                      “Uh oh.” The little girl stood quickly, but stopped in her tracks when she saw her father smile. Legolas hid a grin, not wishing to cause the little one more trouble than she was already in. Elrond also was struggling to maintain a straight face. The guardsman bowed respectfully and addressed Legolas.

                                                       “Prince Legolas, I appreciate your kindness to my daughter. I hope she has not been bothering you.” Legolas grinned at Lilia before replying.

                                                        “Not at all, good sir. Lilia has been good company.” Legolas tugged at one of the child’s curls, elicting a giggle. The child’s father turned to address his daughter.

                                                         “Lilia, you may stay for awhile, but I expect you home for dinner.” He could not keep the fond smile from his face. She launched herself into his arms, hugging him enthusiastically.

                                                 “Thank you, Papa! Oh, Papa, look at the animals Legolas made for me! See, a scary bear and a bird and a deer and a squirrel and a horse! Legolas said the bird is named “aew” and the horse is named “roch.” He was pretending to be the bear and made very scary bear noises!” She rattled on for a few minutes, giving her father the full account of her afternoon. Legolas merely grinned, watching her with no small amount of amusement. She wound down eventually, and returned to playing with her toys. Her father bowed to Legolas and Elrond again and went about his duties. Elrond met Legolas’ eyes over the child’s head and favored him with a slight smile.

                                                  “I think, pen neth, that you will make a fine Ada one day.” With that, Elrond turned and made his way back to Weder. Lilia kept Legolas company until the kitchen workers began distributing dinner to the wounded and their caretakers. After he ate, Legolas settled down on his pallet. He was weary, but strangely, his mood was considerably lighter than it had been. He mused over the effect that one small human had on his psyche as he drifted off to sleep.