Caught (a legolas fanfiction)

Screams

Chapter 25

"While you're awake, Legolas," Elrond started. Legolas was shaking his head before he had even finished.

"Can't eat," he murmured, leaning back into the pillows behind him and looking extremely pale in comparison. "Feel gross."

"I know you don't feel well, but you need to eat, penneth."

Legolas sighed. "Alright," he whispered, and he tried to ignore the nausea that was creeping steadily over him. "Okay. I'll eat."

Within two seconds, Elrond had picked up the trays that he and Glorfindel had retrieved earlier from the kitchens and placed one upon Legolas's lap. The prince looked at the food disdainfully, but one harsh stare from Elrond was enough to make him pick up the fork with his left hand and pick cautiously at it. He took a few small bites.

"On a rather good and exciting note, we have found the cure to the poison, Legolas," Thranduil said. Legolas's fork paused on its way to his mouth.

"What poison?"

Thranduil sighed as he realized no one had bothered to tell Legolas about the poison. He explained it to his son. Meanwhile Legolas had eaten about half of the food on the plate.

"Come on, ion-nin," Thranduil begged. "Just a little more. Just three more bites, and then you can be finished."

Legolas gave a small nod and reluctantly ate two of the three bites, but he refused to do another.

"Why not, Legolas?" Thranduil asked as his son shook his head vigorously.

"I...know my limits...can't eat anymore...or...I'll be sick..." he said, breathless.

"Not even one more bite?" Thranduil said. Legolas shook his head. "Come on, Legolas, please!"

Legolas shook his head again, and he squeezed his eyes shut in sudden pain. He was breathing in small gasps.

"Calm down, Legolas." Elrohir was the closest healer to the prince, and he went over to him and took his hand, placing it over his own chest. "The pain will pass. Try to match my breathing, mellon-nin."

The feeling of Elrohir's steady breathing beneath his fingers seemed to calm Legolas a little, and his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

"Hurts..." he muttered, taking the hand that was originally on Elrohir's chest and clutching at his own. He gasped.

Thranduil took his hand and took some of Legolas's hair in his hands, gently twiddling with it.

Legolas flinched away from the touch. In front of him, his father morphed into Cyras, doing the same thing on his first day in captivity.

His father saw the tears forming in the edges of Legolas's eyes, and he pulled his son close.

"Crying is not weakness, ion-nin," he said as Legolas tried to wipe the tears from his eyes. "It can make us stronger."

The tears he had been holding back for so long finally cascaded down Legolas's cheeks like a waterfall. As the images flowed through his mind in an endless stream, he felt his Ada opening their bond.

Thranduil was overwhelmed by the intense emotion and pain that he felt in all of the memories, and as he watched them, he was just a bystander, not within Legolas's own body. He felt a sudden rush of fear for his son. No one could survive that kind of torment!

Eventually Legolas, through his tears, began to scream as well, and nobody stopped him, knowing that it would be useless. Thranduil was crying openly too, and his tears dampened his son's hair, unhindered.

Legolas screamed and screamed for everything he had felt, seen, and lost within his entire life. The despairing emotions inside of him were finally released through his mouth, and he didn't try to stop them. He didn't care if the world saw his weakness and his pain. He didn't care! The world had been unfair to him, and this was how he had chosen to deal with it.

When, after almost an hour, Legolas's anguished cries finally let way to silence, everyone in the room had a haunted look on their face. Legolas had just revealed his inner emotions to them, and they had been completely unprepared to see how much he was truly suffering.

Thranduil lay Legolas on the bed, and the prince sagged into the cushions in sudden exhaustion. He opened his eyes to see his father above him, and the tears that stained his face.

"Ada..." he whispered, reaching to wipe the tears away gently with the pad of his thumb. "I made you sad. I'm sorry."

"No, ion-nin," Thranduil said, shaking his head, and therefore Legolas's hand. "Never be sorry for showing me how you feel. Your emotions are not a cause for shame, Legolas. They never will be. After all you've been through, you deserve at least this one moment to let it out."

Legolas gave a weak smile, and the few remaining tears leaked out of his eyes as he closed them, falling into a deep sleep immediately.

"He should not be sleeping with his eyes closed—" Elrond began, but his concern was redirected when he saw Thranduil sag to the floor, shivering intensely.

"Thranduil? What's wrong? Thranduil!" Elrond said, shaking the unresponsive elvenking. "Speak to me, please, mellon-nin!"

"Lau...lau, Legolas! Avo..." /No...no, Legolas! Don't.../ Thranduil cried. Elrond, touching the king's forehead to check for a fever, immediately felt a memory flood his sensitive mind.

Legolas was lying on the floor, blood pooling around him. He was struggling to stay awake, but within a few seconds he relaxed and closed his eyes slowly. His breathing became shallower and shallower, and eventually it wasn't even there.

Elrond drew his hand back in shock. What was that? Had it really happened?

He remembered the tears on Thranduil's face when Legolas had been screaming. What if he had seen the entire thing?

His healer mode came into action, and his mind was numb as he made a tea and forced Thranduil to drink it. Eventually the king's thrashing stopped, and he fell limply into the healer's arms.

Knowing that if he didn't wake up with his Ada somewhere near, Legolas would panic, he lay Thranduil on the bed next to his son. Thranduil immediately put his arm around Legolas's stomach and pulled them together, Legolas curled on himself and Thranduil shielding him against his back.

Elrond felt sadness overwhelm him as he saw the two blonde elves asleep, tears on both of their faces and their sleep fitful. He pulled the sheet over them and left the room, not acknowledging the cries of confusion from the rest of the group.

The door slid shut.

A/N: Awww, poor Legolas! I feel so evil (not that that's a bad thing).