Broken (sequel to Caught)

Moment

Legolas awoke from the uncomfortable dampness and barely concealed shivering that was encasing his entire body. He cracked an eye open and saw Elladan and Elrohir were leaning on each other as they slept in two wooden chairs beside his bed. He smiled slightly at the subtle reminder of their closeness and protectiveness of one another and turned back to the subject at hand. Why was he so wet?

He realized he was still shivering profoundly and he looked down at himself. The sheets were wet with cold sweat, and he curled slightly in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. He watched the twins, trying to ignore the shivers that wracked his body as he stared at their glazed eyes and slight smiles. He allowed a small grin to spread on his face.

O:o:O

Thranduil, who had been sleeping, which was normal, considering it was three in the morning, woke up with a slight shiver and tilted his head, wondering why he had woken. He was warm and comfortable in his bed in the guest room he was staying in, and the night was patiently still.

He shivered again, but it had an odd quality to it and was weirdly subdued. He blinked, and, in the split second that his eyes were closed, he saw his son sitting in bed, shivering as he was, but even more profusely. His eyes snapped open and he sprung out of bed, desperate to see his Greenleaf after another two days of him sleeping like the dead.

He didn't even change from his bedclothes as he ambled down the hallway, dark apart from the shadows swaying, elongated surreally along the walls. When he reached Legolas's dark oak door, he didn't even pause before entering.

Legolas was exactly as he had seen him in his mind: staring with a small smile at Elladan and Elrohir, and shivering as he clutched his legs to his chest.

Thranduil walked in, and, without turning to him, Legolas greeted him quietly.

"Ada."

"Ion-nin," Thranduil replied, going to a nearby shelf and pulling an armful of blankets off. Legolas didn't move his eyes from the twins, but he leaned back on the pillows as Thranduil approached him and allowed his father to swath him in a sea of blankets like he was a child. His shivering slowly subsided as his body heat warmed up the blankets. He smiled at the warmth.

"Legolas," Thranduil said cautiously. "Elrond has offered you a choice. He says that you have an infection that can only be cured by a surgery, but that, if done wrong, could kill you as well. So you could have the surgery and have a chance at living, but I would understand if..."

Thranduil's eyes finished his sentence for him. If Legolas wanted to just die and go to see his Nana, he would understand and accept it.

Legolas had never been an impulsive person, with the exception of when fighting, and that was not about to change.

For his entire life, he had been taught to be selfless. Selfishness had never been within his nature, but he had been pushed to forget himself even more completely in the thought that one day he might have to rule the kingdom of his father, and it was important that it was always about protecting the people, serving them, making them love him. It was never about what he wanted or needed; it was never about him. His father had repeated a simple rhyme to him over and over when he was a child:

The duty of a prince

Is a small and simple thing.

To rule his subjects well

And on himself to never dwell.

After he had seen his first death, fought his first battle, and seen the constant threat that seemed determined to take his father's life, he realized for the first time why the first two lines did not rhyme. It was not meant to say "prince." His father had been preparing him to someday, Valar forbid, have to rule himself.

It was meant to say "king".

But Legolas ignored the rhyme, which was repeating itself over and over in the back of his mind.

For one moment he dared to go against what he had been taught and he looked at himself. He wanted to get rid of the sea-longing, no matter what the cost, and he did want to see his mother again.

For a moment, he was tempted to choose the easy way out.

But old habits were not eliminated so easily.

He thought of Aragorn. He had promised the man that he would be by his friend's side until the end of his mortal life. He thought of Elrond, who had fought valiantly against the sea's call himself and the desire to go and once again be with his dearest Celebrian. He thought of the twins, to whom he had always been a pillar of strength, even when their dearest mother left. He thought of the remaining members of the Fellowship, who he had been destined to outlive since the minute he had born; to whom he was a role model and friend.

Thranduil watched his son pondering the decision, and he tried to swallow his fear. He took his son's cheek in his hand, cradling the smooth skin. It was cool like porcelain, and he was almost afraid that it would break in his hand.

"I will not break," Legolas said, reading his father's thoughts with the bond and placing his own hand on top of Thranduil's. "Never.

"Tell Elrond to give me the surgery, Ada."

Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief inside, but on the outside he only allowed a small smile. He removed his hand and sat by Legolas's bedside.

"Alright. Sleep, ion-nin. I will watch over you."

Legolas smiled. There was a short pause, and Legolas closed his eyes. When his son's breathing had evened out, Thranduil crept over to Elladan and shook his shoulder gently. The elf's eyes cleared, and he looked up blearily.

"You and your brother should go to bed," Thranduil whispered. "I will watch over Legolas."

Elladan nodded his thanks and put a hand on his twin's cheek. Elrohir had a similar response to being woken up, and Elladan stood, pulling his groggy twin out behind him.

Thranduil sat down on the chair again and looked at Legolas's peaceful face, and for one beautiful minute everything was right in the world.