Sun-Kissed Blood 2

Sun-Kissed Blood

Part 2

Posted: April 4, 2008
Title: Sun-Kissed Blood
Author: Elohir Mornedhel

*****

King Thranduil loved his son. There was no question about that. Yet, he also felt great guilt for he knew why Legolas was the way he was. It was Mornefin’s curse. All these centuries later it struck what the fair greenwood elf loved the most; his son.

Precocious and adorable, the small prince won the heart of all who met him. With deep cerulean eyes like his grandfather and pale sun-kissed locks of silken hair, his beauty was undeniable. He was sweet and gentle. His laugh was infectious and Legolas laughed often. So many things amused him.

Many things they learned through trial and error. The little elfling could take milk but only if it was mixed with a small amount of blood. His meat, as he grew into a lovable toddler, was barely cooked, still bleeding when his father cut it for him. He could go outside, but had to wear a cloak for the hottest part of the day. That had been a painful lesson for both him and his father.

“I am going to find you, my little green leaf,” Thranduil called as he stalked through the trees searching for his son. A small giggle sounded to his left and he smiled. Moving slowly, he approached the bush that fairly vibrated with the prince’s laughter.

“Gotcha!” he shouted as he pushed the plant aside.

With a yelp of surprise and then more giggles, Legolas jumped up and darted away, faster than the other elflings his age. Giving in to his own laughter, the king chased his son, keeping just far enough behind him to be beyond reach.

They ran through the forest, dodging this way and that. Laughter rang through the air, echoed by the trees as they took joy in their royal family’s happiness.

Suddenly, Legolas darted out from behind a huge rowan into a small glade filled with the noon sun. His giggles were cut off sharply by a loud piercing scream.

“Legolas!” Thranduil shouted as he put on a dash of speed and entered the clearing.

Grabbing up his son, he noted the angry red color and the blisters starting to form on his fair skin. The smell of cooking flesh made his stomach turn. Legolas screamed loudly, tears pouring down his face. Thranduil rushed back into the shade of the trees. Stripping off his tunic, he wrapped his son inside it until nothing was visible. He turned the child towards his chest and opened up just enough for his face to be shaded but free. Sobs shook the tiny body and he had a glazed look in his eyes. His little fangs protruded sharply from his other teeth.

“Oh pen dithen nin,” Thranduil murmured. “I am so sorry. We shall get you home.”

“Hurts, Ada” Legolas whimpered.

“I know, pen velui, I know. When we get inside the healers will have a salve to ease your burns.”

“I am sleepy, Ada,” the child murmured.

“Rest, iônen,” the king whispered as he carried his son home on swift silent feet.

For the longest time after that, the prince would not go outside. Even the very thought brought tears to his eyes. He would dance around patches of sunlight inside and watch the other children sadly. Thranduil didn’t blame him for his reluctance. The pain Legolas had experienced was excruciating. It had taken three weeks for his body to heal the burns, three weeks and several small animals.

Keeping Legolas’ secret from others was hard. Therefore, Thranduil kept his son by his side most of the time. When he had to attend to kingdom affairs, the elfling was left with his nurse, she being one of the people who knew about the prince’s condition. Lindir became his sole tutor and with good reason. The prince had a temper.

Saelbeth was not the most lenient of tutors. However, he was kind and even-tempered. He just expected his students to live up to his standards. He, like everyone else in Greenwood, loved his little prince. However, that just made his standards higher than what he held for everyone else. Being prince, to him, meant that Legolas must exceed those around him.

“No, Ernil,” Saelbeth said for the fiftieth time. “The letter must flow smoothly. You have gone too high with your stroke. Again please.”

“But I have done it five times!” the prince cried with frustration.

“And you will do it five more or fifty more until you form it correctly,” the tutor answered.

“No,’ Legolas said angrily, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Again please,” the tutor repeated.

“NO!’ the prince shot back. “I want to go outside.”

“You may go outside once your lessons are finished,” Saelbeth said firmly.

“I want to go NOW!” the elfling growled, his blue eyes glinting sharply.

“I said once we are finished,” the ellon held his ground.

The scream echoed into the morning air. Thranduil paused until he recognized the voice and then he flew through the halls towards the classroom. Lindir arrived shortly afterwards.

The King threw open the door only to stumble back in shock. For a moment, he was completely paralyzed with it. The room was completely destroyed chairs smashed, desk overturned and parchment shreds everywhere. Shaking his head to clear it, Thranduil immediately looked for his son.

Legolas was crouched in the corner and his appearance was even more startling than the room. From chin to knees, the prince was covered in blood. His eyes, glowing a pale blue-white, darted from one direction to another. His entire body trembled violently and he emitted growling whimpers every now and then.

“By the Valar,” Lindir whispered as he rushed into the room. Crouching beside a supine Saelbeth, he checked for a pulse. “He is still alive, Hiren.”

“Get the healers,” the king commanded, never once taking his eyes off his son. “Keep everyone away from here Lindir. I do not want them seen like this.”

“As you wish, Hiren,” Lindir said. “Shall I get Vaidre?”

“No,” Thranduil answered. “Just have her prepare a bath in Legolas’ room. I will bring him shortly.”

With a nod, Lindir left the room. The king turned back to his son and began singing quietly. It was a soft lullaby his wife had sang to their son each night as he fell asleep. He noted how Legolas’ trembling eased and his eyes took on a calmer quality. Finally, the glow faded and the elfling’s blue eyes appeared once more.

“ Ada?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Yes, Legolas,” the king answered. “I am here, iônen.”

“I did a bad thing Ada,” the prince said, tears sliding down his pale cheeks. “I hurt Saelbeth.”

“I know, pen dithen,” Thranduil said as he gathered the child into his embrace, heedless of the blood.

“I did not mean to,” Legolas cried. “I got mad and everything got all fuzzy and red.”

“Shhh, Legolas,” the king soothed. “We will discuss it later.”

The prince was carried back to his rooms where a nice hot bath was waiting. Gently and patiently, Thranduil cleaned up his son then he listened as Legolas explained what had happened in the classroom. Once Saelbeth regained consciousness, the king talked to him as well.

Though the tutor eventually returned to his duties, he was never quite the same when it came to Legolas’ lessons. He could not relax enough to pay attention and was always expecting the prince to attack him. In the end, he told the king he could no longer perform his duties and asked permission to leave Greenwood.

Reluctantly Thranduil granted his request. He could not blame Saelbeth. The experience had traumatized him. No one expected a small child to be so vicious. Legolas had nearly killed him.

“Knowing what you do of him, do you still love him?” Thranduil asked.

“I… ” Saelbeth took a deep breath. “I do, hiren, but I am terrified of him. He has fangs… and his eyes… I have nightmares of those eyes, my lord. I thought him a normal elfling and it nearly proved fatal.”

“I cannot begin to express my sorrow at what occurred, Saelbeth. However, he is my son and I will do all in my power to protect him. His condition is through no fault of his and I wish he did not have to suffer it.” The king sighed.

“If I may be so bold as to ask, Hiren. What caused it?” the tutor asked.

Thranduil debated for a moment. His green eyes studied the other ellon until the tutor squirmed beneath that penetrating gaze. When the king focused his full attention on an elf, they felt it to their very core.

“You must swear never to breathe a word of this to anyone, Saelbeth,” he said quietly. After getting his agreement, Thranduil told the tale of Mornefin and his ill-fated attack upon King Oropher.

“How horrible,” the tutor whispered once the tale was complete. “A child should not have to suffer for the actions of another.”

“Yet, he does and the blame lies with me. I can do naught else but keep him safe from harm,” Thranduil explained.

“Yes, Hiren. However I still feel it is best for me to depart,” Saelbeth said quietly.

“I understand. Go with my blessings and best wishes,” the king said, resting one hand on the ellon’s shoulder.

The morning of his departure, there was a soft knock on the tutor’s door. When it opened to reveal Prince Legolas, he tensed and backed away to the other side of the room. Legolas remained in the doorway.

“Do not worry,” the elfling said solemnly. “I will stay over here. I… I just wanted… to say I am sorry for… for hurting you. I… know my… apology does not mean much in the face of what I did… I wish I could make it better but… It… I… hope you find good elflings to teach so that you can forget about me and how bad I am. Goheno nin, Saelbeth, im naer (Forgive me, Saelbeth, I am sorry).”

He fled before Saelbeth could do anything other than gasp at the words coming out of his mouth. He wiped at his eyes even as he ran down the hall and back to his room. The prince felt awful about what he’d done. Now, because he was so terrible, his friend was leaving. Legolas cried against his pillows. He knew not even promising to be good would make up for his actions. He was a bad, bad elfling.

Saelbeth looked back at the tiny, cloaked figure standing next to King Thranduil. It was almost midday. The sun was high and hot overhead. His little head was bowed and he had said nothing when the party had stood before the king. In truth, it surprised him that Legolas was even there. Normally the prince stayed inside during these hours.

He wanted to do something to make the little elfling feel better but could not think of anything. He couldn’t bring himself to get close. Shivers of fear ran through him even when they were in the same room. However, he was not a heartless ellon. Could he bring himself to forgive the elfling? He already had. It was fear that kept him away now. Maybe some day he would be able to approach Legolas and hug him. Maybe he would be able to show the prince that all was forgiven, but that day was not today.

Legolas didn’t play with other children. Rarely was he outside unless it was late evening. More often than not, he could be found in the library, reading every book he could get his hands on. As he grew older, they became his best friends save, of course, for his Ada, Lindir and Vaidre.

By the time he reached his majority, the prince had learned iron control over every aspect of his life. He could not change his condition, but he could live with it. When he was old enough, his attention turned to training. He discovered there was a certain peace to be found when he wielded his bow. Often, he entered an almost trancelike state on the practice range and would spend hours firing arrow after arrow into the target.

Each weapon came easily to him and he found a preference for the short hunting knives of his kin. The bow, however, remained his personal favorite. Yet, he was deadly with all of them even before his fiftieth begetting day.

As Legolas reached puberty, he and Thranduil noted changes in his body. Like every other ellon in Greenwood, his voice changed and deepened into a husky tone. He discovered the delights of touching his own body and the beauty in edhil. While these changes were happening in the young ellon all around him, additional changes were taking place inside the prince’s body.

Legolas found he could tolerate more and more sunlight, which brought incredible joy to both him and his father. The thirst for blood could be eased by small amounts of regular food as long as he satisfied it every couple of days. His vision became twice as keen as a normal elf, as did his hearing. The prince made not a sound when he moved and could do so with a speed that made him neigh invisible to the eye.

There were still negative aspects of his personality. He still had his temper, which seemed to flare more easily as he underwent the various physical changes. Whereas the need for blood had been mild as a child, he found himself craving it increasingly. He became agitated and restless with more frequency and spent his time hunting in the woods around his home. All these things spun around inside him until he thought he would burst.

It was the day after his majority celebration that King Thranduil told Legolas the story of Mornefin. The prince was not amused. Yet, he could not hate his father. He could not even be angry with him. He knew he would defend his father with his life. Thranduil could do no less for Oropher. In the end, he confided in his ada and things were right with his world.

Little did he know that a simple letter from another Elven realm would set his world upside down.

*****

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