Second Chances

Part 4

Posted: February 2004
Author: Larien Elengasse

*****

Legolas ran down the halls, dodging those who darted into his path. He could hear the voice of his father over the din of excited elves; he was calling for his horse. Legolas danced and spun in and out of the other elves frantically rushing here and there some with purpose, some with just panic in their eyes. They were under assault. A battalion of orcs had over run their outer defenses, and with them, they brought fire and death, wolves, and worse.

A high pitched shriek split the air outside and Legolas felt his blood freeze.

**Be strong, Legolas** Fëanor spoke to him, **You have had but a taste of the evil that the Dark One wields. This is not just a slow moving band of orcs, that is Úlairi that freezes your blood. Even I have not faced such evil.**

Legolas swallowed, "I do not fear them," he whispered.

**Of course you do, nessa,** Fëanor replied. **As do I. Fear is not your enemy; fear is what keeps you alive. I know of what I speak.**

"You are with me," he answered quietly. "We will not fail."

**To war then, nilmonya.**

Legolas steeled his expression and answered, "To war…"

He ran through the doorway and out into the courtyard. His second had brought his faithful mount and he leapt aboard, raising his bow in the air and sending a fierce war cry through the halls. Thranduil galloped beside him, sword raised in the air, a picture of deadly grace and power, as they passed through the gaits. Every elf, male or female, able to wield a bow was placed in the hills and on the banks of the river near the entrance to the caves.

Sauron's forces had nearly reached the caves, and the Elves of Mirkwood clashed with them head on. The warg riders were the first to fall as green fletched arrows sliced through the air with deadly accuracy. The main host of orcs came next, and the air rang with the sound of clashing steel, the guttural grunts and howls of injured and dying orcs, and the harsh cries of wounded and fallen elves. Legolas quickly lost sight of his father; he was besieged by orcs, often fighting off three or four at once.

That horrible piercing cry rang in his ears again, and he turned his gaze skyward to see an enormous flying beast carrying one of the Úlairi. He turned, drawing his bow and aiming toward the winged creature. As he released the arrow, he was knocked from his horse, landing upon the ground with a heavy thud. The winged beast let out a horrible cry, and plummeted from the sky beyond the tree line. Legolas rolled quickly, but was struck across the face so hard he thought for a moment that his head had burst like a ripe melon. He fell to his knees and managed to draw his knives, burying one in the thigh of the orc that had struck him and the other in its belly. He fought to hang on to his fading field of vision, his ears rung loudly, drowning out all other sounds. Everything went white before him and he collapsed upon the ground. The orc that had struck him fell dead upon his body.

* * * *

Thranduil limped through the field of battle, his anxiety growing with each passing moment, with each unanswered call of his son's name. He prayed to Mandos that Legolas was just unable to answer, or had returned to the caves, anything other than the growing possibility that his only son had fallen. His men were busy searching for the Prince, overturning orc bodies and searching through the brush.

A flash of gold crossed his field of vision and he slowly turned to see flaxen hair sticking out from beneath a dead orc. He fell to his knees in the dirt beside it, ignoring the nearly overwhelming pain wracking his own body and the blood that ran freely from his side. Reaching out, he pulled the dead orc off his son and gently rolled Legolas to his back. His hands shook with fear as he reached out to touch his son's still form. He knew if Legolas were dead, that he would follow, for without him there was no reason to stay.

Warm. His skin was still warm. His rough voice, choked with tears and weakened by pain called out for help, and the healers came rushing forward to help both him and Legolas back to the caves.

* * * *

Legolas awoke in his own bed; he had been bathed and tended to. His head felt as if the elflings had been using it for a ball to kick, but other than that, he was no worse for wear. "Fëandro?" he whispered.

**I am here, Greenleaf** Fëanor's voice replied. **You fought bravely, nessa, your father is proud of you, as am I.**

"I must find Ada," he whispered. He rose from the bed on unsteady legs, and grasped the post of the bed to keep from toppling over. After a few moments, the pounding in his head subsided and he could begin moving again. He made his way from the bed to the wall, out the door and down the short distance of hallway to his father's chamber.

What he saw when he entered Thranduil's room nearly frightened him to death. His father lay in his bed, his flesh pale and sallow, a thick bandage wrapped around his midsection. The healers hovered over him, wiping his brow. Legolas staggered to his father's bedside and the healers admonished him for being out of bed. He climbed into the bed beside him and refused to leave. Finally, the healer covered Legolas with a blanket and bid him stay there for the rest of the night. His eyes closed against his will as his strength faded and he fell into reverie.

* * * *

Fëanor gazed through Legolas' eyes at his beloved. Thranduil's breathing was harsh and shallow; even in his unconscious state, he trembled with fever. Sweat beaded upon his pale skin and occasionally he would mumble something unintelligible. Legolas was deep in reverie, and all Fëanor could do was gaze through clouded eyes, unable to command the arms and legs, unable to move at all. The healer came in and checked on the King, he could do no more than place a leaf of athelas under his tongue.

**Wake, melinya,** he pleaded silently, **Legolas needs you, poicaquen. Maurinyel.**

He watched Thranduil's fitful sleep for hours, until finally his love's breathing became softer and more regular. The fever had subsided and the King rested peacefully, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply. He remembered all those years of blissful torment in which Thranduil came to him without form, comforted him, loved him, and healed the rift in his heart that his own pride and rage had caused. He was now the elf he had been before Morgoth's wretched deeds, but he was also wiser, more patient.

The irony of his present situation had not escaped him. Of all bodies to inhabit, it had to be Legolas' body he fell into, into the body of his lover's son. Perhaps this was yet another means to humble him and teach him patience. He remembered the day Thranduil came to him in his new form. He remembered how filled with joy he was that he could see him and touch him, hold him and kiss him. Now it appeared he would be forever sentenced to look upon his lover through his son's eyes, to feel only the touch and gentle caress that a father bestows upon his son. Better that than nothing at all, he told himself.

Thranduil stirred and mumbled as he returned from reverie. Fëanor watched his lover wake, musing to himself that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His eyes cleared and sparkled like pure sapphire, his rose-pink lips parted as he sighed.

Thranduil turned his head and blinked, his eyes clearing as he woke. He gazed upon the sleeping form of his son and smiled weakly. He reached out slowly and caressed Legolas' cheek with the back of his hand. "Greenleaf," he whispered.

Legolas stirred with out waking and scooted closer, his hand reaching out and touching his father's arm. Fëanor did what he promised himself he would never do; he summoned all his might and moved the Prince's form, causing him to mumble softly, "Melinya."

A tear traced down Thranduil's cheek as he answered quietly, "Doubly blessed am I that both my son and my beloved live."

"It is Legolas and I that are blessed. Had you passed, I do not know that either of us could have stood it." Legolas' long fingers gently gripped Thranduil's arm.

Thranduil gently caressed Legolas' cheek with the back of his hand as he answered, "Nor could I have withstood losing you. Legolas has been the center of my life since the day he was born, and now that I know you live within him…" his voice trailed off as he swallowed. He was still weak, and his strength was failing him.

"Sssh, poicaquen," Fëanor whispered. "You must rest and gather your strength. We will be here when you wake, melinya."

Thranduil nodded and fell back into reverie, and Fëanor released Legolas body, fading back into his subconscious.

* * * *

Thranduil sat propped up on pillows, his strength was returning and his wound was healing quickly. He grimaced as he sipped a bowl of soup steeped with herbs meant to hasten the healing process. Legolas sat beside him on the bed, reporting on the state of the realm after the fierce attack. Casualties on the side of the enemy had been heavy, less than one quarter of their number had escaped. Casualties on their own side had been greater than they hoped, but they had lost fewer than they could have.

"Ada," Legolas began softly, "the creature that called himself Gollum has escaped during the attack. A patrol has been sent into the wood to seek him out, but he has been gone for close to a day."

Thranduil nodded. "I suspect this attack was not a random event. The timing was planned."

Legolas nodded. "Aye, I suspect so as well. Do you think they came for him to rescue him or to kill him?"

Thranduil furrowed his brow. "There is no escape from Mordor, Legolas. I do not think this Gollum creature escaped, I believe he was released from the black land."

Legolas nodded and cocked his head. "To what purpose?"

Thranduil answered, "That I do not know. Mithrandir must have believed he had some value, or he would not have bid us hold him here." He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I saw in my fevered dreams a vision, I believe the One Ring has been found again. I believe that Gollum may know who keeps it now, and that the Dark Lord sends him to find it."

Legolas' eyes widened. "You do not believe it is harbored among the elves do you, Ada?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No, I do not believe that. Nor is it kept among men, for they would surely betray us if they had it." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Do you remember when we held Thorin here?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, I do."

"I never was able to discover how he escaped, and until now, he is the only one who has ever escaped my dungeons. I have long believed that there was one who aided Thorin in his escape, though we never learned who it could have been. It is curious, do you not think so?"

Legolas nodded again. "Aye, I do, Ada."

A knock came upon the King's door and he bid his guest enter. His herald informed him of the arrival of a messenger from Imladris. The messenger carried news of a Council meeting called by Elrond, and the Lord of Imladris was requesting Thranduil's presence. Thranduil received the news and instructed that quarters prepared for the messenger, he told the elf that he would give him his answer before he left again in the morning. As the door closed behind the two elves, Thranduil looked at Legolas.

Legolas shook his head. "No, Ada. You cannot travel so soon."

Thranduil nodded and sighed. "This is true. You will go in my stead, Legolas. You must bear the news of Gollum's escape to Mithrandir. Elrond is calling the leaders of Elves, Men, and Dwarves to this meeting; Mithrandir will be there as well. Tell him of Gollum's escape, it may be of grave importance."

Legolas rose and bowed his head. "I will, Ada."

Thranduil smiled gently at his son and answered, "Now go, you must prepare for your journey."

Legolas smiled and left the room, leaving his father to his thoughts.

As the door closed behind his son, Thranduil closed his eyes. "Elrond," he whispered. "You may be the only hope my son has…"

Úlairi = Elvish word for Nazgûl
Nessa = young one (Quenya)
Nilmonya = my friend (Quenya)
Melinya = my love (Quenya)
Poicaquen = pure one (Quenya)
Maurinyel = I need you (Quenya)

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