Wrath and ruin

Legolas lay daydreaming. It was a pleasant daydream, unlike many of his dreams of late. He was riding through the woods, the wind blowing his cloak, leaves rustling as they galloped along. He was followed by his closest friends who he knew had his back. He trusted them completely. In the dream, he could not see their faces, as they were cloaked and hooded, but somehow he knew them regardless, and he trusted each of them with his life. His daydream was interrupted with a knock on his door.

"My lord Legolas?"

Legolas sat up. "What do you want?" he asked the messenger

"Lord Elrond sent me," she said.

"Why did he not come himself?" the Prince asked, feeling a knot in his stomach.

"I do not know, my Lord," she replied, "He said that you may now visit your father at your will."

Legolas relaxed. All was still well. "They were his exact words?"

"More or less. Although he did say to 'prepare yourself'."

Legolas swallowed. "Go," he said to the messenger. She gave a small bow and left. Legolas knew her; she was slightly younger than he was, but she'd been allowed to travel north with his father and the rest of the host. She was a nobody; a lowly Silvan elf, and yet Legolas, a Prince of the realm, envied her. She could do as she pleased, and no one cared. She had been with his father out on the battlefield. She had been among those to bring his body back to the encampment, to call for Lord Elrond, to save the King. Legolas had done nothing. He wanted to retreat back into his dream, but knew it was now impossible. He hopped off the bed and pulled on his boots. His desire to see his father was stronger than anything.

As the Prince made his way through the halls up to his father's quarters, Legolas did his best to prepare himself. He knew his father had been terribly burnt and disfigured, but words and whispers were one thing, and seeing the truth for himself was quite another. He tried to picture the worst, but struggled as he did not know what the worst could be. He took a deep breath as he entered his father's quarters.

"Legolas," Lord Elrond greeted the Prince. The healer was lurking by the door, with the King's sickbed just out of sight.

"Lord Elrond," Legolas nodded, his mouth dry. He wondered if the Lord of Imladris had left his father's bedside, apart from when he had come to see Legolas a few days past.

"You are ready?"

"Is he awake?" Legolas asked nervously. Perhaps his father would have drifted back to sleep. Perhaps he would not have to do this now.

"Yes," Lord Elrond replied. "If you are not ready…"

"I am fine," Legolas lied. He walked slowly into his father's bedchamber, Lord Elrond following behind. At first, all Legolas could see of his father was a mass of white-blonde hair on the pillows before he could make out his father's form underneath all the blankets.

"Legolas?" the King's voice was soft and raspy, where it was usually strong and rich.

"Ada," Legolas stood awkwardly next to the bed. His father looked terrible. The king was deathly pale, with dark rims around his eyes. He was covered up the chin with blankets an furs, but nothing could hide the scaring on the left side of his face and the cloudy blind left eye. King Thranduil pulled his right arm out from under the covers, and Legolas took his father's hand. Legolas was surprised that despite the blankets, the King's hand still felt cold. Legolas looked back at Lord Elrond, trying to hide his alarm. Lord Elrond looked annoyingly calm, but of course, he had seen the King looking much worse than he did now.

"Sit down," whispered Thranduil, indicating for Legolas to sit upon the bed, "You won't hurt me." He added, seeing the look upon his son's face. Legolas sat down on the bed, still holding his father's hand.

"Ada…"

The king gave a half a smile. "Now do you understand?" the King asked, his words slow and deliberate for he had no energy to waste on idle chatter.

"I didn't…" Legolas trailed off. He looked at his father's hand in his.

"I know."

"I'm sorry." "You have naught to apologise for. You think yourself wise and grown, but you're not. You will be, though, one day. I've been there too, Legolas. Though I learnt through a much harder lesson than I hope you have."

Legolas thought about the grandfather he never knew. Thranduil seldom spoke of his father, just as he seldom spoke of any of those whom he had lost. Perhaps it was just too hard. Legolas wondered if he'd speak often of Thranduil, had his father's life been claimed. "I thought you were going to die."

The King made an awkward half-cough, half-laugh sound and forced half a smile. "As did I, ion."

Legolas held his father's hand, and the King fell into a light slumber, and all Legolas could think to do was sing softly. He stayed by his father's side for a number of hours as the King had fallen into a deep mortal-like sleep again, before heading out to the training field. Such sleep was unnatural for elves, but Lord Elrond explained it was the best way for the king to heal.

"The longer he sleeps, the quicker he'll recover," Lord Elrond has said, as Legolas exited his father's chambers.

"Do you ever leave him?" Legolas asked, as he departed his father's quarters.

Lord Elrond smiled. "Yes, but seldom. I cannot have him wake alone. He will recover, Legolas."

"What about the…?" Legolas couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"The scarring? The blindness?" Lord Elrond finished for him. He took a deep breath. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Fear not, King Thranduil will still be the most handsome of our kind once he has recovered. But for now we must all be patient. You are now free to come and go from here as you please."

"Why did you keep me away from him for so long?" Legolas asked. It had been almost a week since Lord Elrond had returned from the north with his father.

"There are some things a son need not see," Lord Elrond answered. "If you were one of my children, I would not have wanted you to see me the way he was."

"But…"

"If I thought your father was not going to pull through, I would have called for you immediately. Otherwise, I thought it for the best."

Part of Legolas wanted to argue with Lord Elrond, but most of him knew the healer was right. He looked at the ground to avoid the healer's gaze. The King looked terrible enough now, and Legolas could not imagine his father looking worse, but knew it to be true. There was one more thing. "Lord Elrond?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Legolas admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"As Regent," Legolas looked at the floor, at the walls, anywhere but Lord Elrond's deep blue eyes. "It was different with my father away from the realm, but now he is here but in no fit state to rule. I know not what to do," he confessed.

"Carry on as you have been, Legolas, there has been no issue."

"But my father…"

"No one expects you to be your father, just as no one expected your father to be his father when he inherited the throne. They expect you only to be yourself."

"I do not want the throne," Legolas said softly.

"Nor will you keep it. Your father shall soon recover, and re-take his seat. But for now, as Regent, you must lead your people. You have been doing so well these past few weeks. Why the doubts now?"

"There is just too much. I – it is overwhelming. I know not where to start," Legolas said. It felt good being able to seek council. As much as he trusted his father's councillors, it was not the same. They were his father's hand-picked men. Lord Elrond was a trusted third-party. Legolas looked at the bed. Trusted by both the King, and the Prince.

"Legolas," Lord Elrond smiled, "You start with what must be done first. You find that, and you do it. After that, everything will fall into place."

Legolas considered this for a moment. "So if the first thing I must do is spend an hour in the training yard before meeting with the council, then that is what I do?"

"You are the Regent. No one will question you."

"Lord Elrond, I have heard tales from mortal men to not seek advice from the elves, as they will tell you both yes and no. I have not found this to be so until now. All those who tell the tales must have had dealing with you."

Lord Elrond smiled. "In a month or so, your father will be back upon the throne. Do as you please, Lord Legolas, but I would advise against starting any wars. Your father may now be overly impressed with that."

Legolas felt a small smile creep onto his lips. "You can assure my father that the only battles I shall be engaging in will be with my kin in the training yard, and possibly with his absurd treasury accounts. I should like to feed them to a dragon."