I Survived

Note: It's been a while since I've written anything LotR, so here :3

Legolas is the equivalent to a 3y/o human.

Thranduil walked silently down the corridors towards his room, head pounding and his body aching. It had been a long, gruelling day, what with all the council meetings and annoying advisors, and all the Elvenking wanted to do now was go to sleep.

Once he reached his room, he opened the door and trudged in, shutting it behind him and leaning against the door with a huge sigh. He was so exhausted.

It was late evening, and the king could tell that a storm was brewing outside. The trees were swaying in the strong, howling wind, clawing at the windows and rustling its leaves and his sharp hearing could pick up the first signs of rain as the drops started spilling out from the clouds.

Untying his heavy robe and letting it fall to the floor as he walked towards his bed, Thranduil groaned. His head really was hurting, and it felt as if there were little people inside his brain, bashing and thrashing around as they tried to get out of his head. They were probably getting overwhelmed by the many irritated thoughts whirling around up there.

The king put his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. Sometimes – just sometimes – he felt himself getting so irritated and annoyed that he just wanted to cry. He wanted her. He needed his wife. He wanted to tell her all of his worries and troubles and let out his tears on her shoulder as she whispered soothing words to him and told him that everything was going to be alright.

But that person was gone.

She was dead.

And he was never going to see her again.

"Ada?"

Thranduil quickly removed his hands from his face, staring down at the little elfling who was stood at the foot of his bed. The room was very dark, but the king could have recognised his son anywhere.

"Legolas," he said, desperately trying to wipe away the tears which had escaped from his cool blue eyes.

The little prince moved forward slightly before suddenly gasping and bringing his little hands up to his mouth. "Ada's hurt?" he whispered, eyes welling up with tears as he ran towards his father. He looked up into Thranduil's confused face and hesitantly reached his hand up.

It wasn't until he felt the sting on his cheek when his son touched his face that the king realised he had let go of the elven magic keeping his scars hidden, revealing them to the world.

Well, the king's world, which was his little son.

Thranduil hissed as a jolt of pain rushed through his head when Legolas touched the scars again. The little prince quickly drew his hand back and stared up at his father with worried eyes.

"Las, I-"

"Ada's hurt. I get someone?"

"No! No, no, Ada- Ada's fine. Here." The king reached down and picked his son up.

No one besides Lord Elrond and a few healers had seen his scars. He never wanted Legolas to know about them, simply because he thought it would scare him. For a little elfling to be terrified of tiny spiders and storms and loud noises but not be frightened of his father's scars was not what he had expected, so he never let them show when he was around.

Not that he wanted to. He barely ever did, even when he was alone, seeing as it was a reminder. A reminder of the fire. Of the dragons. Of the war. Of the pain…

But sometimes he lost control over his emotions and unknowingly let the magic drop, resulting in… this.

Legolas stood on the king's lap, holding onto the sides of his face as he peered tentatively at the wound. His tiny eyebrows were furrowed, obviously trying to make out what it was.

His eyes found Thranduil's, and the little prince's heart sped faster as he realized his father had been crying.

"Ada hurt? Ada sad?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Ada is fine, tithen lasse. Why are you not in bed?"

"No, no, Ada not fine! Ada crying, and Ada hurt! Look, see!"

The prince jumped off his father's lap and scurried over to the desk, finding a small mirror and rushing back to the bed with it. He held it up for Thranduil to see.

The king looked away as soon as he saw the horrifying scars in his reflection. This was wrong. He shouldn't be letting his little son see him like this!

Legolas was frantically trying to think of ways to get his father to be happy again. What did he usually do when he was upset?

Hm.

"Ada want a hug?"

Thranduil looked down, tears falling from his eyes yet again as he took in the image of his little leaf. He looked so sweet, standing in front of him with his little arms spread out and his face twisted into an innocent baby smile.

The king wordlessly nodded and reached down, picking his son up and hugging him close. He breathed in the scent of wood and leaves and flowers and-

"Have you been playing with my bath soap again?"

Legolas giggled and buried his face into his father's shirt, shaking his head.

"Noooo Ada!" he said.

Thranduil chuckled and wiped his eyes, taking in a shuddery breath before patting his son on his back and pulling away from the hug.

"Ada okay now?" Legolas asked, little head cocked slightly to the side as he studied his father's face. The scars were still there – the king really didn't have the energy to use the magic to cover it again and besides, it would only confuse the prince more if they were there one moment and gone the next – but the tears had disappeared, only leaving thin, silvery tracks running from his eyes and down his cheeks.

The king nodded with a smile. "Yes, Ada is okay now."

Legolas nodded before suddenly letting out a small whimper and hurling himself back at his father's chest as a huge clap of thunder echoed around the room.

The king wrapped his arms around his quivering son and looked out of the window, noticing that the storm had come and it would probably be a very cold and wet night.

"Is this why you're out of bed tithen pen?" he asked.

Legolas nodded. "I scared when cook said a storm would come t'night."

"Would you like to sleep with me?" the Elvenking asked, not in the least bit surprised when the prince nodded, grabbing any chance he got to sleep with his father. But tonight, Thranduil wasn't sure whether it was his son who needed him the most, or the opposite way.

As the two got under the covers and Legolas curled up against his father, soon passing into elven dreams about muddy puddles and Galion's new horse, the king looked down at the mop of blond hair and smiled to himself, silently giving thanks to the Valor for blessing him with his little leaf.

With help from his prince, he was healing.

From every wound there is a scar,

and every scar tells a story.

A story that says

'I survived'

Elvish:

Ada - Dad/Daddy

Tithen lasse – Little leaf

Tithen pen – Little one

Hope you enjoyed! 3 ~ Gre3nleaf