NOTHING: It’s Just a Scratch

SUMMARY: Elrond and his sons have a time trying to keep Legolas in bed after he is injured. Takes place in T.A. 2484. This one is for Nina who gave me the plot bunny. Le hannon, meldis nîn.

WARNING: Humor alert, though it gets a bit angsty toward the end.

NOTE: In this story Elladan and Elrohir are 2,354 years old, while Legolas is only 542 years old, which is why they refer to him as an elfling. Legolas’ age is based on his age in my story Tâd Edhel a Firion wherein he is 1,014 years old in T.A. 2956.

****

"Where did you find him?"

That was Lord Elrond, Legolas was pretty sure, though he was too weak to open his eyes to see if his assumption was correct.

"We didn’t. He found us, though the Valar only know how."

Legolas frowned (or thought he did), for he couldn’t quite place the voice but it was familiar so he ignored it.

"Fortunate it was that ’Dan and I were there, Adar, or we would have brought him back fully dead instead of only mostly dead."

Elrohir! Legolas was sure of that and wanted to tell the younger Elrondion that his sense of humor had deteriorated since last they met, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Luckily he didn’t have to reprimand him, for Lord Elrond was doing a good job of it.

"Your levity is uncalled for, iôn nîn," the Lord of Imladris said in a forbidding tone, "though I grant you he is definitely ‘cuivië-lancassë’.

Legolas frowned again (or thought he did). He understood everything Lord Elrond had said except the last part. Cuiv-what? He had a dim sense that the strange sounding words were possibly Quenya. He hated when the twins spoke the tongue-twisting language of their daernaneth and he only understood one word in twenty and those were the words that sounded the same in Sindarin. He smiled (or thought he did) at the memory of him speaking the Silvan tongue of Mirkwood just to spite the twins. Unfortunately, they seemed to understand what he was saying more than he understood them when they spoke Quenya. It seems being the sons of the greatest loremaster of Middle-earth had its benefits.

"Well, we can only thank whichever Vala looks after elflings and other fools that he managed to escape from the orcs and find us," said the familiar voice that had spoken earlier.

"And which Vala would that be, Glorfindel?"

That was Elladan, Legolas decided. The ellon’s tone was teasing and Legolas knew how much the older twin enjoyed teasing their captain. He waited for Lord Glorfindel to speak, finding he was just as interested in the answer as the others. He wasn’t sure he would classify himself either as an elfling (though everyone else in Middle-earth seemed to) or a fool (though his adar most likely would), but he was interested nonetheless.

"Well, where Legolas is concerned," Lord Glorfindel said in all seriousness, "I suspect all of them."

There were snickers all around, except from Legolas who sighed (or thought he did). Why did they all treat him as if he were a... a Mortal child or something!? Was it his fault that the passes across the Misty Mountains were filling up with orcs and goblins and wargs? No one had told him!

"What of his escort?" Elrond asked.

"No trace," Glorfindel answered with a vile oath that had Legolas raising his eyebrows in shock (or thought he did). He had never heard that particular malediction before and he was happily trying to remember it for future use while the others were doing whatever it was they were doing. He wasn’t sure what that was exactly, though it seemed to involve causing him a lot of pain, only he was too weak and tired to protest. Listening in on their conversation at least kept his mind off other, less pleasant, realities.

"That’s assuming the elfling even had an escort," Elladan said darkly and Legolas could just imagine the look on the older twin’s face. "We backtracked his route and found no evidence of anyone else except several dead orcs and goblins and, oh yes, one warg."

"If any of the vile creatures had survived, they would have taken the dead away, including their own dead, to eat," Glorfindel said with in an authoritative voice and who, Legolas thought to himself, would know better than the former Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin and Balrog-slayer extraordinaire?

"Fool of an elfling!"

That was a new voice, one that he knew he knew but couldn’t place. He had the feeling the owner of the voice wasn’t going to be as forgiving of his folly as the others, whom he considered as part of his family.

"Well, we’ve done what we can," Elrond said wearily and Legolas wondered just how long they had been working on him. "I will put him into healing sleep once we’ve gotten him settled in his bed."

"How long will you keep him under?" Glorfindel asked.

"I think only for three or four days," Elrond said, "but he will have to remain in bed for at least another week after."

"That will be fun," Elrohir said dryly. "Legolas hates beds with a passion."

"We’ll just have to come up with ways to keep him there," his twin said with a chuckle.

Legolas frowned, and this time he knew he had. He was not happy to hear he would have to remain in bed for so long. After all, there was nothing seriously wrong with him, was there? It was only a scratch or two. He’d be up sooner rather than later. He knew from past experience, though, that the healers of Imladris would do all in their power short of actually tying him down to keep him in his bed. He smiled at the thought of how he could outwit his caretakers this time. It was the last thing he remembered before being sent into oblivion.

"Uh oh," Elrohir said as they watched Elrond place the Sindarin prince into healing sleep. "I don’t like the look of that smile. That smile spells trouble for us all."

The others all agreed, but by then Legolas no longer heard what was being said about him.

****

"...broken right arm, fractured left leg, your back looks like they were using it for target practice and that cut on your other leg was infected with poison..."

That was Lord Elrond giving him a litany of woes. It was now the third day since he had been brought to Imladris by the patrol led by Lord Glorfindel and he had just been brought out of healing sleep to face the not-so-pleased Lord of Imladris.

"You are one fortunate elfling," Elrond ended his litany.

"Not an elfling," Legolas protested, though it didn’t sound like his voice, all weak and paper-thin.

"Child, you’re barely five hundred..."

"Five hundred and forty-two last month," Legolas corrected and then paled at the frown Lord Elrond gave him. One never contradicted the Lord of Imladris. Terrible things tended to happen to anyone who did.

"My mistake," Lord Elrond said with a faint smile and Legolas paled even further. That smile boded no good, he was sure. "At any rate, you’re not going anywhere for at least a week, so I suggest you enjoy the rest. When you are fully recovered, Lord Glorfindel will be happy to teach you some tactics you obviously never heard of for staying alive."

"What tactics, Ada Elrond?" Legolas asked in confusion, addressing the Lord of Imladris as he had when he had been an elfling in truth.

"Such as always having an escort with you when you travel outside the Woodland Realm."

Legolas looked to see Lord Glorfindel striding into the room with the twins right behind him. The twins were smiling, the Balrog-slayer was not. Glorfindel turned to Elrond with a quizzical look.

"Are you sure he should be out of healing sleep so soon?" he asked. "I thought we had agreed to keep him under until all his wounds were healed."

Legolas felt his eyebrows leave his forehead. He had never heard of such a thing and suspected that keeping someone under for that long might even be dangerous.

"So we did," Elrond said in all seriousness. "However, in this case, I think Legolas needs some time while his wounds are healing to contemplate the stupidity of his leaving his adar’s realm without an escort."

"You know he’ll be spending most of that time trying to leave his bed rather than in contemplation," Glorfindel said.

Legolas really hated them talking about him as if he weren’t there or still asleep. So, they wanted him to remain in bed, did they? He would let them think so for another day or two but after that... Already plans were formulating in his brain on ways of eluding his caretakers. The day after tomorrow for sure would see him up and about.

"Why don’t we just tie him down and be done with it?" Elrohir asked.

Legolas frowned, though none of the others noticed, so busy were they in discussing their patient. It would certainly put a crimp in his plans if they did tie him down. Best to avoid that. He plastered as pathetic a look on his still bruised face as he could manage, his eyes tearing on cue.

"Pl-please... not that... I... please, Ada Elrond... I’ll be good."

Elrond sighed and looked at the others to gauge their reactions, finally turning his attention to the elfling lying (and possibly lying in truth) on the bed, looking paler than the sheets. "Very well, iôn nîn, no restraints. Just try to behave. A week is not really that long, after all. Now, why don’t you rest for a time? I’ll have someone bring you something to eat later."

Legolas nodded and dutifully allowed his eyes to glaze over as he slipped into the Path of Dreams, secretly gleeful that he had fooled them all. He never saw the others nod to one another knowingly as they slipped quietly out of the room.

****

He was rather put out when he found he’d slept most of that first day except briefly to take sustenance or to swallow some of Lord Elrond’s foul brews. Still, he had to admit he felt much better for it. Indeed, he thought he could even venture out of bed if just long enough to use the privy, of which he was in dire need at that very moment. He looked around. He recognized this part of the healing wing. The Belain knew he’d seen it often enough. The privy for this wing was just down the hall, if he could just get there.

It was rather awkward getting out of bed with one leg and one arm in splints and he wasn’t sure if he could actually stand, especially since the other leg felt weak and the area around the slash from the orc’s sword still burned. Very well, he would crawl. It wasn’t as if he were proud or anything, but Arda would come to an end first before he ever resorted to the chamber pot. He did have his dignity to maintain, after all.

He inched his way off the edge of the bed, wincing as he put pressure on the fractured leg, but finally he was down on the floor. He started crawling, using his left hand and right foot to pull himself across tiled floor. Unfortunately, he had to stop every once in a while to reach back and pull down his nightshirt, for it had a tendency to creep up his buttocks. He hoped he would be able to reach the privy soon as his need was getting greater and then there was the question of whether he could even sit himself up to do what he needed to do. Well, he would worry about that when he got there. Right now, though, he....

He bumped into a boot, or rather two of them. He lay there in defeat knowing that he would have to wiggle himself backward far enough to see who was standing over him and he would not demean himself that way.

"Legolas, what are you doing?"

Oh great, Lord Glorfindel. If only it had been one of the twins.

"Privy," he said hoarsely. "I really need...."

"What you need is to get back into bed," Glorfindel said as he stooped down and casually scooped him into his arms. "And the only privy you’ll be seeing for the next week is the one under your bed. It’s called a chamber pot. I’m sure you’ve heard of it."

"No, please... I just need...."

"Now, Legolas, there’s no need to feel embarrassed," the Captain of the Imladrin Guard said as he settled the Sinda in his bed and reached down for the chamber pot. "We’ve all had to use one from time to time. Now, do you need help or can you manage on your own?"

"I hate you," the ellon said petulantly, refusing to take the pot from Glorfindel.

Glorfindel smiled. "That’s all right, elfling. You aren’t the first, and the Valar know you won’t be the last, to say those words to me."

Legolas sighed and decided it wasn’t worth fighting this particular battle. "I... I’m going to need some assistance," he said, refusing to look at the golden-haired ellon standing over him, hating to admit that he needed anyone’s help.

He did not see the gentle smile on Glorfindel’s face as the former Balrog-slayer handed the chamber pot to him and then moved to kneel at his shoulders, grabbing him under the arms. "I’ll lift you up and you can push the pot under you...."

****

From Legolas’ Secret Diary (which he writes in his head):

Day Two: After embarrassing myself with the chamber pot, I spent the rest of the day plotting revenge on Lord Glorfindel, or tried to. Unfortunately I was constantly interrupted by people stomping into my room and asking how I was and then sitting down and chatting about nothing at all... for hours! Did a lot of smiling.... Yawn... Now that it’s night I will pretend to... yawn...sleep so they won’t bother me and I can dream up... yawn... up ways of getting out of bed without beee...iiing....

"Too bad you can’t just give him that sleeping draught in his tea all the time," Elladan said to his adar as they watched the elfling’s eyes glaze over. "My jaw aches from all the talking I did this afternoon."

"At least you prevented him from trying to leave his bed again," Elrond said with a chuckle, "but I’m afraid we can only give him this sleeping draught at night."

"I wonder what schemes he’s hatching?" Elrohir commented. "Do you think we should let him try just to see what he does?"

"I hesitate to allow that," Elrond said. "He is supposed to be resting, after all. His injuries won’t heal otherwise."

"Still, we ought to let him try this once, just to prove to him that it’s hopeless and he should give up his attempts at thwarting us," Glorfindel said.

"Well, just this once," Elrond replied with a weary sigh before leaving to attend to some of his other patients, Dúnedain who had had a run-in with bandits. They at least were more cooperative.

****

Day Three: The healing wing is oddly silent and empty. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but have decided to take advantage of the situation. No one’s told me how my horse fared. Think I’ll check the stables....

The problem, as Legolas saw it, was that the stables were nowhere near the healing wing, an architectural design flaw that he intended to point out to Lord Elrond at the earliest opportunity. He looked about him, trying to remember the layout of the Last Homely House and its surrounds. From his bed he could see a walled garden, mostly herbs for the medicinals the healers brewed, but there were some ornamental flowers, roses mostly, that brightened it up, making it a pleasant place for convalescents to sit and soak up the sun. If memory served, he was sure that there was an outer gate just past the yew trees. From there it would be a simple matter to follow the path around the house and get to the stables.

Legolas sat up and checked to see if there was anyone lurking about. He pushed back the bed covers and pulled his legs off the bed, being careful to put his full weight on his right foot. He found that there was less pain now, though he had to clutch the chair next to the bed while the world righted itself and he could see straight again. Taking a deep breath he pulled the chair around and held on to its back, using it as a very awkward crutch. He had to lift the chair with his left hand and then as quietly as possible set it down again a few inches before him, then shuffle forward. It was a tedious process, but he was determined.

The first stop was to the clothes rack where a house robe hung from a hook. He really should not leave the room in just his nightshirt after all. What if an elleth saw him? Hunting around for slippers proved futile. Apparently Lord Elrond saw no need to provide him with any yet. Well, he would have to go barefooted. Nothing he hadn’t done before.

It took him forever to make his way to the archway that led into the garden and he was nearly out of breath when he finally made it. His head was swimming and the light seemed to be getting dim. Luckily there was a bench nearby and he plopped himself down to rest. Looking about he saw that the garden was empty. He smiled. Now that he was outside he didn’t have to move as carefully as before for fear of alerting someone. The gravel path would be too harsh on his naked feet, so he would walk on the verge beside it, muffling the sound of his makeshift crutch even more.

Taking a deep breath and gathering his strength, he stood and started towards the gate. It was not visible from where he was but the garden was not overly large so he did not think it would take him long. It helped that there were benches along the way and he took advantage of them. He wondered if there would be any places along the route to the stables for him to rest once he left the garden and then chuckled ruefully when he realized he had brought his own chair for resting on.

He felt himself relaxing, enjoying the mid-morning sun, as butterflies flitted about. He could hear the droning of bees somewhere and had to shake himself from falling asleep. He stood up hastily, fearing that someone would come into his room and find him missing. He really needed to get to the stables before they did.

The garden gate came into view and he sighed with relief. Once out of the garden he should have no problems getting to the stables. The tricky part would be to avoid people, but he knew that this side of the house faced one of the numerous waterfalls that graced the valley. All the outbuildings were on the other side and the stables would be the first building he would come to.

He reached the gate, a door, actually, made from sturdy oak, and took a moment to look about one last time to make sure he was alone. Nothing. He was in the clear. Reaching out, he lifted the latch and slowly opened the door. Before him lay another gravel path that wended its way around the house.

Legolas smiled in triumph as he stepped through the gate. Once outside and the gate closed no one would be the wiser as to where he had gotten....

"Lovely day, isn’t it?"

"Heek!" Legolas nearly screamed, startled, his heart racing. He made a panicky grab for the chair, fearing he would fall, but strong arms enveloped him and he found himself in Elrohir’s embrace.

The ellon was smiling somewhat sympathetically as he stared at the elfling staring back at him in fright. "Wh-where did you come from?" Legolas stuttered.

"Oh, I’ve been here since dawn," Elrohir said equably. "I drew the lot for this spot, the others are ranged around the healing wing since we weren’t sure in which direction you would go."

"I want to go to the stables," Legolas pleaded even as Elrohir scooped him into his arms and started back through the garden. "I want to see Celegbôd. I want to make sure he is well."

"You only had to ask, honeg," Elrohir said, "and we would have told you that your horse fared far better than you and is well."

"But I want to see him," Legolas whined, even as Elrohir put him back in bed and pulled the covers over him.

"When you are healed," the younger son of Elrond said firmly, "and not before." Then he went back out into the garden and shortly returned with the chair, setting it down beside the bed. He then walked over to a side table where he picked up a book, returning to the chair and plopping himself down. Opening the volume — a collection of Elvish nursery tales — at random, and finding a story, he began to read out loud while Legolas sat in his bed, fuming.

"When Ithil had yet to rise and Anor had yet to shine...."

Addendum to Day Three: Life is so unfair.

****

Day Four: Another wasted day. Lady Celebrían came with Arwen and several other ellith who all sat around with their stupid embroidery and gossiped. Gossiped! And then Arwen had the temerity to ask me if I wanted to learn how to do ribbon embroidery, of all things....

"I’m a warrior," Legolas said in as cold a voice as he could manage and still be polite (he was after all surrounded by ellith and had already decided he would rather be surrounded by orcs with just one arrow left in his quiver instead). "Warriors don’t do embroidery."

He couldn’t figure out why they were all laughing. Celebrían saw the look of hurt confusion on the ellon’s face and took pity on him, hushing the others. "Perhaps you should ask Lord Glorfindel about that, Prince Legolas," she said with a knowing smile.

As Arwen and the others continued to giggle into their embroidery, Legolas decided he really hated ellith and planned to have nothing more to do with them ever. He would ask Lord Glorfindel about it though, just to clear things up. Warriors didn’t do something as silly as ribbon embroidery, did they?

****

Day Five: Have decided to change tactics. There is too much activity in the healing wing during the day, therefore I will venture out of bed at night. I am determined to reach the stables and see Celegbôd. Maybe I can even go for a short ride. All I need to do is stay awake and, oh yes, find some clothes....

Legolas was sure they were slipping the sleeping potion into his tea, or perhaps it was mixed in with the horrid brew Lord Elrond always made him take, claiming it would help speed his healing. That might actually be true, he thought, since he was sure that even the dead would come to life to avoid having to take the awful stuff. If it was in the tea he could fake drinking it, but if it was in the healing brew, he was out of luck because Lord Elrond never left him until he had drunk every drop.

He sighed, trying to figure out how to avoid taking the brew, but could come up with no reasonable way. If only Lord Elrond were called away just as he was drinking the vile stuff, then he could empty it into the chamber pot with no one the wiser, but he wasn’t holding out any hope for that particular miracle to occur. So, he would avoid the tea that was served with the evening meal and hope for the best.

The only good thing about it was that at least he would be allowed some privacy while he ate. Once the healer’s assistant brought him his tray, he would be left alone. He made a show of pouring the tea from the pot while the assistant was still in the room and pretending to drink it. The look of smug satisfaction on the elleth’s face as she closed the door did not escape Legolas’ notice. He counted to twelve slowly before reaching down and grabbing the chamber pot. If anyone came in at that moment he could tell them he needed to use it. However, no one came in and in a trice he poured the tea into the pot and resumed his meal. When the assistant returned some time later to retrieve the tray, Legolas made a show of yawning a couple of times in her presence. He settled further into his bed and pretended to drift off while waiting for Lord Elrond to appear with his nightly healing potion. Once he had drunk that they would leave him alone for the rest of the night.

When the Lord of Imladris appeared an hour later, it was to find his patient already asleep. He hated to wake the elfling up, but the nightly potion was a necessary part of the healing process. He bent down and gave the ellon a slight shake. Legolas was surprised to find himself waking up and seeing Lord Elrond standing over him, a fond, paternal smile on his lips.

"I hate to wake you, iôn nîn," Elrond said quietly, "but I need you to take this." He handed him the vial. Legolas struggled to a sitting position with a rueful sigh but drank the potion readily enough before settling back down. Elrond ran a gentle hand through his hair. "Pleasant dreams, child," he said before he left.

Well, he supposed the brief nap had done him no harm. Legolas lay there thinking out his plan of escape one more time. He had remembered earlier in the day that the rooms opposite his faced an inner courtyard. A covered walkway led out of the courtyard and into another open court. Along one side of this outer court were the stables. The trick was going to be finding an empty room. He had overheard the healers talking about some Dúnedain patients housed across the hall from him but was unsure how many had been injured or which rooms were theirs. Still he was determined to get to his horse and take a brief ride just to show everyone that he wasn’t as badly injured as they all insisted he was.

Clothes were his biggest concern at the moment. He wished he could at least find a pair of breeches to cover his half-nakedness, but in the end decided the important thing was to reach the stables and take that ride. He waited another hour, forcing himself to stay awake this time by planning just where he and Celegbôd would ride. There was a little dell not too far from here that had always been a favorite of his. He’d often go there whenever he felt troubled. The place soothed him.

When he decided the wing had quieted enough, he slid out of bed and grabbed his robe. He was still barefooted, but that was a minor irritation. Using the wall for support he made his way to the door and as carefully as he could he opened it, peering out into the darkened hall. The candles in the wall sconces were extinguished save for the ones at either end.

So far so good. He took a deep breath and hopped across to the other side, clutching the door opposite his until he regained his balance. Then, he put his ear to the door and listened, sure that his superior elven hearing would alert him as to whether the room was occupied. He stilled his own breathing and was able to detect the faint breathing of someone on the other side of the door. Well, he didn’t expect to find an empty room immediately. He made his way to his right, figuring that the rooms closer to the examining rooms would be occupied while those further along would not be. He had to pass two other doors before he found a room that was empty.

Stealing a glance down the hall, he opened the door, hoping he was correct and that the room was indeed unoccupied. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when he found that fortune was still with him. He could see the courtyard through the open arches and thank Elbereth! Hanging from the clothes rack were a pair of breeches. He reached for them and started to pull them on. They were larger than his own, yet not so large that he was able to slip them on over his splinted leg with any ease. He had to struggle a bit to get them on and the fabric tore along the outer seam. Tucking his nightshirt into the waist of the breeches, he used the belt of his robe to hold them up.

Satisfied that he was properly dressed for his midnight excursion, Legolas made for the courtyard, clinging to walls and arches along the way until he reached the walkway and then into the outer courtyard. Here, he figured, would be the real test. As late as it was, it would not be considered unusual for there to still be some activity going on. He was gratified though when he detected the faint sound of singing. That meant that most everyone, including Lord Elrond and his sons and Lord Glorfindel, would be in the Hall of Fire enjoying the entertainment.

The Belain were smiling upon him tonight. The outer courtyard was empty and the stables were just ahead. There was a side door that was never locked so that stablehands could get inside immediately at any hour of the day or night. Keeping to the shadows and thanking the Powers that there was no moon he made his stealthy way to the stables. He breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door and slipped in as quietly as he could. It was silent inside, save for the soft nicker of those horses not yet sleeping. Of course, he had no idea where his own horse was lodged and he had to make his way from stall to stall in search of him.

Luck was still with him, for he found his beloved steed after checking only four stalls. Celegbôd was also awake, as if he knew his master was coming for him. The horse gave him a friendly nicker and Legolas patted his velvety nose, wishing he had an apple or a carrot for him.

"Sorry, my friend," he whispered. "Maybe next time. Come. Let us ride. The night is fair and I hunger for the open air."

He opened the stall gate and ran his hand over Celegbôd’s neck, assuring the horse with whispered words of his love. He was a little concerned about how he would mount the horse with one leg and arm in splints but he was sure he could manage. He encouraged the horse to leave the stall and led him to the door, peering out to make sure no one was about. The courtyard was still empty as far as he could tell. Then he noticed a mounting block which he knew was used by elflings and Mortals. That would do.

"Tolo, Celegbôd. iDhaw ammen dartha."

He positioned his horse in front of the mounting block and stepped up. Using Celegbôd for leverage as he grabbed the mane with his left hand, he started to mount up. It meant putting pressure on his left foot, but it was nearly healed and it would be for just long enough for him to scramble onto the horse’s back. His right leg was nearly over when there was a shout from somewhere in the near distance.

"Legolas!"

Both horse and elf were startled. Celegbôd skittered sideways and, with a cry of alarm, Legolas fell, his left leg hitting the granite mounting block. He screamed as something cracked and there was darkness that had nothing to do with the night shrouding his vision as the pain overtook him. He heard someone running and then there were hands upon him and a soothing voice though he could not make out the words.

Then he was being lifted up and carried. The pain was overwhelming and he might have blacked out for a time, for the next thing he knew he was lying on an examining table. Figures hovered over him and someone was caressing his head, soothing him. There were voices but he only caught snatches of the conversation.

"...broken in two places...."

"His arm is uninjured but we’ll need to resplint...."

"Let’s dose him so we can work...."

He felt someone lift his head up far enough for them to pour something down his throat. And then there was nothing, nothing at all....

****

He woke to the sound of voices murmuring. Opening bleary, pain-filled eyes, he found himself back in his own bed and the Lord of Imladris was frowning down at him. Elladan and Elrohir were also there, their expressions equally cool. His left leg throbbed and he had a vicous headache. There was also something odd about his right foot. Struggling with his bedclothes he tried to sit up to see what was wrong. Lord Elrond lifted the corner of the sheet so he could see, never saying a word. He gasped in utter dismay.

Wrapped around his ankle was a mithril fetter, padded on the inside with lamb’s wool to prevent chafing. A chain was anchored to the bedpost. Legolas felt sick as he stared at it in disbelief.

"I am sorry, child," Lord Elrond said sadly, "but you left us no choice. Your foolish stunt caused you to break your leg all over again, only now in two places instead of just one. You’ll be in bed for at least another week, if not two."

"Y-you said no restraints," Legolas whispered, forcing back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"And you promised to behave yourself," the Lord of Imladris admonished him. "As I said, you’ve left us with no other choice." He covered the foot, then leaned over and brushed a hand over Legolas’ head. "I wish there were some other way, child, but you only brought this upon yourself." He straightened, gave a nod to his sons and the three exited the room, closing the door behind them, leaving him alone.

The rest of the day was torture. He lay there, face turned into his pillow and refused to respond to anyone who came in. Not even a visit from Lady Celebrían and Arwen could cheer him up and after about a half an hour they left, their expressions troubled, though he did not see. Nor would he eat and all his meals were left to congeal into cold messes. The chain turned out to be long enough to allow him limited movement. He could sit up and lean over for the chamber pot when he needed to, or reach over to the nightstand for some water, but that was about it.

A crisis arose later that evening when Lord Elrond came in with the usual potion. He refused to take it. Sighing, Elrond left for a moment and then returned, followed by his sons and Lord Glorfindel. Without a word between them, Glorfindel and the twins approached the bed. Elladan reached down and without any ceremony pulled Legolas into a sitting position so Glorfindel could squeeze himself behind him and hold his head between his hands, preventing him from turning aside.

"All right, elfling," the Balrog-slayer said in a no nonsense tone, "time for your medicine."

Legolas, however, had other ideas. He kept his mouth shut, tightening his lips into a thin line. But Elrohir, who had come around to his right side, pinched his nose shut so he could no longer breathe. He tried to pull the ellon’s arm away but Elladan grabbed his hands and held them down. Now he started struggling, fear and anger burning in his eyes as he made mewling sounds of protest, trying to break free of their hold.

"Don’t fight us, honeg," Elladan pleaded.

"Please, Legolas, just take the medicine," Elrohir said almost at the same time.

It was a losing battle. He was almost out of air and he was blacking out. With one more attempt to break free he lunged against their hold but the effort left him gasping. At that moment Elrond struck, forcing the vile liquid down his throat as he swallowed instinctively. When it was all down they released him and he fell back upon his bed with a stifled sob. Someone brushed a hand through his hair in an attempt to comfort him, but there was none to be had and soon he was left alone in his misery.

At that moment he hated the world and everyone in it.

****

The next day was no better. He still refused to acknowledge anyone who entered the room. However, he did consent to eat something late in the afternoon when his stomach began protesting the lack of food. And when Lord Elrond entered later that evening with his medicine, followed by the twins and Lord Glorfindel, he took it meekly enough, though in an act of defiance he threw the empty vial to the floor where it shattered rather than handing it back to Elrond. Without bothering to see their reaction he scrunched down into his bed, pulling the covers over his head.

Someone sighed and a few minutes later he heard the sound of glass being swept up and then nothing. He was alone again in his misery and he still hated the world and everyone in it.

****

"Fool of an elfling. Whatever are we to do with you, iôn nîn?"

Legolas stirred, trying to focus his gaze in the near darkness, lit only by a single candle which was always left burning at night. He must have fallen asleep not to have heard someone entering the room. That voice was very familiar, and Legolas realized he’d heard it before when he had first been brought to Imladris. But that was impossible! How could....

"A-ada?" he said tremulously, shifting his position so he could see the person sitting beside the bed.

"Yes, Lasseg nîn, it is your ada," Thranduil answered and his tone was gentle rather than condemning.

"B-but what are you doing here?" Legolas asked, still not sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Thranduil smiled. "Oh, I’ve been here all along. You gave me a merry chase, my child, and I nearly caught up with you in the Vales of Anduin, but you managed to give me the slip. I will have to remember to commend your tutors for their excellent training." Legolas wasn’t sure how to take that. His ada didn’t seem to be angry with him, which confused the ellon. "However," and here Thranduil’s voice turned somewhat colder, "they did not train you well enough." He gave his son a knowing look and Legolas nodded.

"I was stupid to try the passes alone," he acknowledged, but couldn’t resist gloating a little. "But I acquitted myself rather well, I think...."

"You don’t think you escaped from those orcs all by yourself, do you?" Thranduil asked with a humorous glint in his eyes.

"B-but I did," Legolas protested. "Everyone says...."

"Well, let us just say that I and my escort," he emphasized the word, giving Legolas a meaningful look and the ellon blushed at the implied reprimand, "took care of the ones you didn’t get, enabling you to make your escape."

Legolas blinked. "Then... why didn’t you... I mean... I was injured and you...." Now he was totally confused.

Thranduil’s expression softened. "By the time we finished with the orcs you were far enough down the mountain that it took us some time to catch up with you. However, Lord Glorfindel’s patrol found you first. When I arrived, the Elrondionnath were attempting to keep you alive long enough to get you to Lord Elrond."

"You’ve been here all this time?" Legolas asked.

Thranduil nodded. "I decided to keep out of sight and see how things developed, knowing you as I do."

Legolas felt himself go red in embarrassment and he felt tears forming. "Th-they chained me," he whispered in shame.

"At my suggestion," Thranduil said and Legolas stared at him in shocked disbelief.

"Y-you?"

Thranduil nodded solemnly, then sighed at the look of confusion and betrayal on his son’s face. He moved to the bed and settled himself so they were half lying side-by-side, putting an arm around Legolas’ shoulders and hugging him. "I regret having to do so, but as Elrond said, you gave us no other choice. If you had just been patient one more day the splint on your leg would have been removed."

"I wanted to see Celegbôd," Legolas replied softly, as if that excused everything.

"I know," Thranduil said, planting a kiss on his son’s head, "and I sympathize, but you were being reckless with your injuries which you should never have had to suffer but for your foolishness of leaving without a proper escort." He sighed. "I was so afraid."

Legolas looked up at his ada in surprise. "You?"

Thranduil nodded, giving his wayward son a sad smile. "I thought I would lose you. You do not know how close to death you were when they brought you to Imladris. Only Elrond’s healing arts saved you."

Legolas thought about that for a moment or two. "I’m sorry," he whispered and meant it.

"I know you are, child," Thranduil said, giving him another kiss on his head. "I will have the shackle removed if you promise to behave yourself from now on."

"I... I promise," Legolas replied with a deep sigh. It was going to be a most boring two weeks.

"Warrior’s oath?"

Legolas gave his ada a surprised look but nodded. "Warrior’s oath," he said firmly.

Thranduil nodded. His Little Leaf was many things, but dishonorable was not one of them. If he gave such an oath, he would keep it or die trying. Perhaps, he thought somewhat ruefully, I should have told Elrond to invoke that oath from the beginning. Then he mentally shrugged. He’d enjoyed watching his son trying to outwit his caretakers and only regretted that it had ended so tragically.

"Well, I’ll go get the key," he said, climbing out of the bed. "The splint on your arm will come off tomorrow, I’ve been told. I will help you with the necessary exercises to strengthen it again." He gave his son a teasing smile. "Now, don’t go away. I’ll be right back."

Legolas actually giggled as his ada left to find Elrond. He settled back down into his bed, smiling, and decided that perhaps he didn’t hate the world and everyone in it as much as he’d thought. Now, with his ada here, he could just imagine all the mischief the two of them could get into together. After all, he still needed to plot his revenge on Lord Glorfindel for the chamber pot....

****

All words are Sindarin unless otherwise noted.

Adar: Father. The hypocoristic form is Ada.

Elrondion: Son of Elrond. The collective plural meaning ‘all the sons of Elrond’ would be Elrondionnath.

Iôn nîn: My son.

Cuivië-lancassë: (Quenya) Literally, ‘on the brink of life’, of a perilous situation in which one is likely to fall into death.

Daernaneth: Grandmother. In this case, Galadriel.

Belain: Plural of Balan: Vala.

Ellon: Male Elf.

Elleth: Female Elf. The plural is ellith.

Celegbôd: ‘Swift-foot’ [celeg ‘swift’ + lenited form of pôd ‘animal’s foot’].

Honeg: ‘Little brother’. In his later writings, Tolkien decided that ‘brother’ in Sindarin was hanar, pl. henair (cf. Quenya háno). Honeg is also used as a play-name for the middle finger [Vinyar Tengwar 47]. It is unclear if Tolkien, by introducing this form, abandoned the older Noldorin word muindor.

Tolo, Celegbôd. iDhaw ammen dartha: ‘Come, Celegbôd. The night awaits us.’

Lasseg: nîn: ‘My Little Leaf’; cf. honeg ‘little brother’ and atheg ‘little father’. Legolas’ name translates as ‘Green Leaf".