Nin Chronicles: My Word

I Wept Tears

Notice: Due to a mix up, this chapter should have been published after I See Dusk and before I Heard Laughter. I apologize for the confusion and invite you to enjoy this chapter. 

Thranduil tossed in his bed, one arm thrown across his face. He knew Legolas was lying alone in bed, his hot tears soaking into his pillow. He wanted to go and hug his son but he could not bring himself to forgive Legolas's actions. Because of Legolas, he would have to face a tableful of council members without his papers and somehow explain their destruction. There was no time to rewrite them.

Thranduil frowned as he rolled over, clenching his pillow under his head. His thoughts drifted to Legolas and he kicked off the blankets. Legolas had no right to destroy official property, no matter how upset he was! Absolutely no right!

Thranduil felt a father's sympathy for his son as he thought of Legolas alone in his room, sad and sorry, but forced himself not to leave his bed. Legolas had to learn his lesson. His apologizes were worthless unless he understood the wrong he had done.

Thranduil rolled onto his stomach and fell into a disturbed night's sleep. He dreamed of Legolas's face, covered in bruises, and the wails of an abandoned child.

The king of Mirkwood awoke with a heavy heart, guilt over his treatment of Legolas's weighing him down. He dressed and combed his hair, prepared for his meeting without the papers not worth the love of his son. He knew breakfast would have to be rushed and he would need to be ready to leave dressed for the meeting. In the folds of his silver robe, he slipped an emerald ring onto one finger, a sapphire onto another, both of gigantic but graceful proportions set in mithril, and lifted a crown entwined with sparkling green stones from its velvet lined box. Setting the crown on his head, he settled it into his hair, admired the effect of the smooth lines, and looked with indecision over two mantles; one of blue silk lined with gold and the other of black silk lined with silver.

Draping both over his arm, he went in search of Harune. He found his father in the living room with Landion, the twins, Elrond, and Glorfindel.

"Another meeting?" Landion asked, looking over Thranduil's silver robe of rustling silk and the twinkling jewels.

"Indeed," Thranduil said. "Ada—"

"Your treatment of Legolas is utterly disgraceful," Harune interrupted, holding up a hand with accusing eyes. "You cannot treat him like a beast much longer, Thranduil. You have already hurt him."

"I know," Thranduil said softly. "I awoke and knew I needed to apologize."

"Have you?"

"No. I mean to go up and say I am sorry in a minute. But first—"

The door opened and Thranduil turned, his regretful features sharpening into lines of sternness as Legolas came into the room with his hands behind his back and his eyes down.

Thranduil bit his lip. "Legolas, I told you to stay in your room until I gave you permission to leave."

A shudder ran through Legolas and Harune half stepped forward as the elfling burst into tears.

"Please do not hit me again, please do not hit me again. Please do not. I am sorry, I am sorry."

A flash of worry crossed Thranduil's features and he knelt to hug Legolas to his chest. "I am the one who is sorry, my little lead; sorry I hurt you and refused to accept your apology."

Legolas sniffled and clutched at his shirt. "I-I know I should not have left my room, ada, and I will return to it—I will—but I wanted to give you these first and—and I thought you might not come to see me . . ."