How...Unfortunate

3

"Father," Legolas spoke quietly, his head bowed to show respect. Thranduil hummed, fingers drumming against the throne that he was perched on. The throne of Mirkwood was a work of art, and Legolas knew that it had taken the Elves of the time quite a long while to finish. It was still the highlight of the Kingdom. It also highlighted everything they believed in the Kingdom, to live in peace with the land, in harmony with it and not against it. That was something that the Dwarves and Mortal Men did not adhere to themselves. His father cut an even sharper figure sitting on the throne than he did by himself, hard as that was to beat. Legolas knew that it was unlikely he would ever look as regal as Thranduil. The silver of his clothes glittered, the green glistened, and the crown upon his head was an elegant autumn leaf crown. It would soon be littered with snowberries rather than leaves. The crown changed with the season.

Legolas felt unnerved, as he always did when Thranduil got into these sorts of moods. The Dwarves had been causing a racket but had yet to do anything more than be mildly annoying to the guards that oversaw them. The guards were also constantly rotated, and the keys to dungeons were removed from the Guards and placed in Thranduil's own hands after a mentioned mutter from the boy that had urged his father to decide it wise to keep them on his own person. The words had not been said to them, but muttered as Legolas was leaving, and he had taken the time to press the matter in to Thranduil, who accepted the idea. According to the boy, the Cellar keys in his own house were only ever given to the patriarch of the family, the highest-ranking member, and none had a copy, or the will to steal from such a high standing person. It was dangerous, for one, garnering the potential wrath of such a person. This had been yesterday, as a Guard had mentioned while Legolas was in the room, how the Dwarves were causing a racket, and how he feared an attempted escape. Legolas had mentioned that the keys were hardly easy to get to as they were left in the wine bay, but such a thing shocked the boy, who had uttered such words under his breath as Legolas was leaving. He was grateful that it allowed Legolas to inform his father if nothing else. Thranduil had been rather pleased with the suggestion.

"Very well, I will allow your...request. They must be sent back once you reach Elrond, however, is that clear?" Thranduil was looking at Legolas with a dark look in his eyes, which made it clear that should Legolas even try to disobey it would reap consequences he did not even want to imagine. A few extra guards and a healer may not seem much, but Mirkwood was at war with the spiders, and Legolas knew that Thranduil was not only losing a few guards and a healer, but also his best fighter, and heir. It was dangerous, but everything now a days was dangerous, and getting Elrond's thoughts on the boy's strange wounds was imperative.

"Yes, my Lord," Legolas whispered, his head still bowed down in respect. His nerves were still on the upper end, and he felt his shoulders tighten in anxiety as his father continued to speak.

"I cannot, very well, allow you to leave without a slightly higher guard. You will take yourself, the boy...Rimedur," The King paused over the last name, as though he were being forced to admit something highly unpleasant. Legolas knew his father was not fond of the Healers, but he also knew that Thranduil would see the sense in sending a healer with them. It was obvious enough considering he had agreed to the request in the first place. It could also be Rimedur himself that his father had an issue with. The Elf was rather young for a healer, but one of the best that they had. His aptitude for healing arts and bedside manners were the best among their elves, at the very least. "As well as three guards. One will accompany the healer as he returns from Elrond's lands, the other two will stay with you and the boy as you are there." Legolas exhaled slowly, and made a show of nodding, keeping his head bowed. He was still anxious, and things were far from over, he knew. Thranduil hummed, leaning forwards on his throne, his very presence seemed to loom over Legolas. His father could be quite the figure of intimidation, he knew. "I am sure you know how Elrond thinks of me, ensure that he is not given too much worse a thought, as best as you can, and once Elrond is finished with his assessments of the boy, and trying his best to heal him of the curse that plagues him, you and the child are to return to these lands, do I make myself perfectly clear?"