The assassin had only just fled from my sight when I pushed past my guard, uncaring of aught but the crumpled shape of my son on the desktops. The side of his face was pressed down upon the wood, hair falling across his face. Ai, Elbereth, I saw blood.

"Legolas?" I said, hoping for an answer but not daring to expect one. I had seen the assassin's hands come up, watched with baited breath as there was nothing I or anyone else could do. We had to create a woven pretense, one that would convince the enemy that we were unable to catch even one of them. If such action came to cost me my son, I would not care if the entire illusion was shattered.

The elves that surrounded my son moved away as I reached for him, gently taking him in my arms and pulling him to the edge of table. "The injury is not serious," one of them--Caneir--said.  "Leastways, the bleeding is not. The skin was only split on impact. The healers have already been summoned."

I nodded my understanding, but continued in my action. "What of those that followed Forven?" Should my son awake to find his lieutenant remaining in any sort of danger, I would find myself dealing with a discontented elfling determined to ignore caution.

"Not returned, but I passed him in the hall. He said he had done his utmost, but his own pursuit had ended in the hall. The other warriors were still in place, however and we may still have a chance of tracking him."

"Good." My answer was absent minded as I attempted to cajole Legolas into waking. My efforts were rewarded as he barely stirred, head turning towards me. His face twisted into a grimace. "Legolas, wake up, ion-nin." Perhaps my words would pierce his consciousness.

I could not decide if time was flashing by, or if the events were occurring so rapidly that they blurred into an instant. Captains took action, as did my guard, while an alert was discreetly sent throughout the stronghold using a series of whistles. Those that were not warriors, would think it to be nothing more than  bird's call, but those that had completed the warrior's trials would know. A danger was nigh at hand--one of the highest puissance.

Legolas's eyes opened, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Immediately, sit up on his own , but only a moment passed before he faltered back against my shoulder. Even then he repeated the action, gaining the same result a second time. "Where's Forven?" he slurred, gaze flashing across the room. Coherency was quickly dawning back upon him.

I was beginning to answer when the warrior in question appeared in the doorway, leaning against the large frame. "Here, you pe-channas elfling." Forven stumbled just slightly  as he walked forward and I blanched, not because of his stumble but for his face. Across his cheek and to his nose, pale skin was marred by a swiftly forming bruise, while blood trickled from his nose. "It will fade," he said, clearly reading the question on my face, and one that was likely mirrored on Legolas'.

"What of the assassin?" Legolas sat straighter, this time unhindered, and swung his legs off the desks'  edge.

"From the whispers that have swept this way, he escaped, but we found his route. He was lost in the courtyard."

"So long as we saw where he was, that is all that matters. Was anyone seriously harmed?" Legolas made an attempt at standing, but Forven and I were both prepared for the inevitable. My son lurched forward, balance askewed, and it was only my supporting hand upon his chest and Forven's firm grip of his shoulder that kept him from toppling to the ground.

"Aside from you? Nay. Perhaps next time we should let them engage in combat."

"It was necessary this time. We had to get the assassin out into the open, but we couldn't risk needless harm to our own. His means of escape might give us some indication of what foe we are dealing with."

Throughout the exchange, I remained silent. When Legolas  had appointed Forven his second, I had not been surprised. Forven had always been near, and Legolas had taken an instant liking to him, even before Forven had become a ward of the crown--

I cast the thought  aside. A darker memory for another time.

In the next moment, the healers arrived, Glassade at their head. Her befuddled expression was one I recognized from the many times Legolas had needed her care.

"I believe I told you that I did not want to see you anywhere near my care for quite some time, did I not young prince?"

"I apologize, milady, it was not my intention."

Glassade humphed, taking his head between her hands. "Sometimes I wonder about you... Come now, let me see your wound."

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An hour later, I was by Legolas's once again unconscious form, sitting in the healing ward. Forven stood in the corner, arm's crossed, eyes narrowed, and face cleaned of blood. I sighed as the last of the healers left the room, knowing Forven would have something to say of the plan Legolas and I had enacted. Most often his eyes were a blue that faded to black, but this time they held as coal.

"Why'd  he have to do it?"

"Hm?" I feigned ignorance, in some hopes that the matter might pass. It was not to be.

"He did not have to be the one to stand against the assassin. There were plenty of others there, including myself, who would be wholly willing to take his place."

"I know," I  murmured, relinquishing the hold I had on Legolas's hand. "He refused to have it any other way, but would not tell me why. I can only guess, but likely because  too many are being smothered by the Shadow. If anyone had lost their life in that confrontation..."

"He would blame himself and rush headlong into the nearest patrol, putting himself in harm's way because of guilt? Aye, I know."

"Then why ask?"

Forven shook his head, walking forward. "He used to talk about it, tell me or you or someone. But now, he keeps the turmoil buried deep inside.  He is tearing himself apart."

I had no argument, despite that I wished to dispute against his words. There was only cause to agree. "That is why we are here.  We cannot keep a thread from tearing anymore than we can keep a leaf from falling from the trees. All we can do is patch the hole--clear the leaves. Give them hope while keeping our own flame of it burning." I had heard such once, very long ago in a half forgotten memory, in a scarcely remembered dream muddled by the murky depths of time.

Forven nodded slowly, and I could see the confusion drift from his eyes, but only barely. "Hannon-le, aran nin. I will remember."

"And that is all you can do." Aware that Forven would likely not wish to dwell on the darkness for long, I switched the conversation's ambience. "If I remember correctly, you had a task of your own in the scheme of the events. Did you get it?"

"Aye. A piece of the cloak tore off when I chased him, just before he ran away. I've given the cloth to the maids. They should be able to identify where it came from soon enough."

"What of his means of escape?"

"It was as we expected. The passages that were sealed have been opened. I am surprised they had not already collapsed... He exited in the courtyard but somehow blended in with the others and was lost."

"I assume guards have been well placed to guard the passages?" Forven gave his confirmation and I took a moment of peace, standing. "Very well then. The herbs will not wear off for a few hours, and until then Legolas will rest well. We should see to other matters."

The lieutenant and I parted ways there, him going to the warrior's halls whilst I made my way to my study, where a thousand matters likely awaited me. I had hardly taken a step from the doors of Legolas's rooms when my guard surrounded me. I had resigned myself to the circumstance a millenia ago. There were times, more often than I might wish, that caution 's importance was of the utmost.

I was soon to enter my study when the captain of my guard came beside me. "Hir-nin, may I have a word with you?" His mask was lowered and I could see the concern etched onto his face.

"Of course, Captain," I  said,  keeping my puzzlement  subdued. Imrathon rarely showed such emotion while actively on duty. To do such put a greater risk on the guards' life and their families. In this instant, I could find no reason to not acquiesce, and gestured for him to follow me into my study. Taking a seat, I waited for him to follow suit but he continued to stand. He appeared worried, agitated, shoulder's begging to slouch but training refusing to release him from rapt attention.

"Aran-nin, in what went on today, my warriors and I agreed to do nothing, but in the future... I cannot promise you such. Our loyalty is to the crown, and the safety of its bearer, including you and your son. If any harm should come upon you, blame would ultimately fall on us for not fulfilling our duties, whether it was by order or not." Imrathon  stance shifted as he clasped his hands before him. "Prince Legolas is in the healing wards because we did not defend you and he was left to. We will not allow it again."

"Imrathon--"

"Nay, aran nin, saes. Do not ask it of us. Even should you not hold it against us, we mark it as a failure amongst ourselves."

I sighed, resigned. Imrathon's mind had been set long before he chose to speak with me. "Very well, then, Captain. Ne'er shall you be called upon for a service you do not feel to be honourable."

"Hannon-le, aran nin." He bowed, fist across his chest, and left.

Alone in my study, I took to the immense piling of reports and letters. Many were from the warriors, an account of their latest patrol, but those had been becoming ever shorter. The more happenings that occurred on patrol, the less the warriors seemed to speak of it. Legolas, even, had oft taken to a brief scratch of the actual battles--the wounded, the the lost, the dead...

A knock sounded at my door and I bid them enter. Galion stepped inside, a palpable expression of malcontent on his features. "Aran-nin," he acknowledged, and I winced. Quickly, I schooled my appearance to a cool mask. "May I ask, hir nin, what you were thinking this day? Or, rather, if you were thinking at all?"

"It was necessary," I said for what felt to be the thousandth time.

"And what," Galion shook his head, "could possibly have been worth sending your own son to the Halls of Healing? Answer me that, Thranduil, and we will see what necessary truly is."

At that I cracked, the ice of the air shattering to a thousand shards of piercing glass. My tone was low, but somehow my words were not directed towards Galion. "You think me uncaring? You think that I would willingly put my son, my only light, into the battle against the beast of my own accord? If that is your belief, then perhaps you do not know me so well as yoou believe."

Galion's voice mirrored my own, but had a lilt of compassion in it, "Nay, Thranduil, I do not. I only wish to know why that dear light is lying unconscious, hurt and pained. Tell me what the healers will not, and I will leave. I ask nothing more."

My head dropped into my hands, and a cold, bitter laugh gripped the air. "I know not, Galion. I do not understand any longer--I cannot..." I breathed deeply, regaining the composure lost to a moment. "We knew the assassin would come if we held such an encompassing meeting. As you know, I oft abstain from the warrior's council, but this time I chose to go. We thought to lure the assassin into revealing himself, at which point one or two warriors would advance. Somehow... somehow, those warriors were Legolas and Forven. We did not wish to capture him, nor kill him. Such would be pointless at this point. Instead we discovered one of the way's that they travel through the stronghold unseen..."

I continued in my exposition as Galion assisted me in sifting through my papers. At my tale's end, he nodded. "Goheno-nin, Thranduil. I did not wish to accuse you of needless wrong doing."

"Nay, Galion, I am on edge. We all are. Corruption lurks in every corner, hiding behind the shadows we have yet to dispel."

"There is light though. You said so yourself.

"Aye," I murmured. "Let us hope it does not fade."

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pechannas : idiot/stupid