"My lord!" An ellon exclaimed to his king who sat talking with several of his advisers. "The hunt went ill, we were over--"

"Where are the others? Where is my son?" The King demanded before the soldier could finish.

The ellon before him shuffled his feet. Dread came upon him as he was forced to answer the King's question. "Prince Legolas was captured my king. Most of the others did not make it out." Deafening silence rang throughout the room.

The silence broke when the King demanded the ellon to relay the last sighting of the kingdom's only heir. The ellon told all his knew, including the fact that one of his companions had stayed behind to follow the enemy.

The King, who had already stood up from his seat, marched out of the room with a command to have the army ready to leave by morning.

Morning came and went, Thranduil and his army traveled light, not wanting to risk any extra time on too many supplies. They could find what they needed in the forest if it came to that.

With every moment that passed, the King became more and more worried. His stomach churned at the thought of what his son might be suffering through. But he could only trust to hope that they would get there before it was to late. He could not bare the thought of losing his son to the shadow.

They kept moving closer and closer to the abandoned fortress that lay beyond their borders.

Finally, they caught up to the ellon that had stayed behind. He was weary after so many days of having to stay hidden, but he told the King what he had seen. "They shot him, but he still lived when they took him in. Though, I have not seen, nor heard of him since."

The King need not ask how long ago it had been for he had already calculated it and knew that his son was most likely dead. A heaviness slammed onto Thranduil's chest, his composure hung by a thread, and he took as shaky breath to steady himself.

After a moment, he drew himself up. He would not stand for those foul creatures to have his son's body, should that be all that was left.

He gathered his forces, readying them should the attempt to sneak in go ill. Then, with only a handful of others, he went in, making his way down into the underground of the old fortress.

For days they searched the darkness. Servants of the enemy lurking around every corner. The weight the void of darkness had pressed on the elves more and more with each passing day.

"My lord," An ellon whispered to his king. "We can not keep going like this. We must turn back."

The elven king turned to face the ellon that spoke, drilling him with a hard stare. "I will not turn back until my son is found! If you wish to leave, then go! But I will not." And with that he turned away, leaving the soldier regretting his words.

A cry suddenly reached their ears. It was weak, no mortal would have been able to hear it. Thranduil followed the voice without hesitation through the dark.

Iron bars lined both sides of the path that Thranduil walked upon. The light was dim, but he could see a limp form laying on the ground and he ran. But the bars kept him from going to his son's side.

Thranduil grasped at the filthy bars with trembling hands, eyes pinned on his son. He called to him but no answer came. The other ellyn caught up to him and set to work on the lock on the door.

After what the elven King thought to be hours, the door popped open and he ran to his son and knelt beside him.

"He's alive!" The King breathed, tears brimming his cold grey eyes as carefully lifted his son into his arms. Legolas made no sound, his head rolled and rested against his father's shoulder. They needed to get out of there. Quickly.

They kept to the shadows, making their way out of the dungeons. Thranduil knew it would not be long before the Orcs realized their prisoner was missing.

They went without hindrances until they were nearly out, the light was blinding after spending so much time in the dark, and then things turned for the worst.

Orcs stood between them and their way out. There were few enough that the elves could handle them themselves, but if an alarm was raised, things could end badly and they all knew it.

But with no other choice and without waiting a command, the elves drew their bows and shot the oncoming threat. Many fell dead, but their screams could not be silenced in time and the sound echoed through the air.

The elves needed no urging as they heard more Orcs advancing. They would be upon them soon. They ran out of the fortress, arrows started to rain down around them. Ahead, Thranduil saw the troops appear from their hiding place, bows drawn. Arrows cutting through the air sounded above them and Orcs cried out behind them.

Thranduil did not slow down until he was far out of the reach of the Orcs' arrows, and the entire army retreated. The Orcs did not hesitate in chasing after them at first, following them for miles. But they learned that elves are not ones to be reckoned with and they soon gave up after many of them had been shot down.

With the threat temporarily minimized, Thranduil laid his son on the forest floor and several healers rushed to the Prince's aid. "Saes, nesta ion nin." The King's voice cracked as he spoke. He watched as the healers began their work the best they could out in the open.

Once a tent was set up, they moved the unconscious Prince into it and continued to clean and bandage his wounds which were many.

Thranduil sat on the ground in the corner away from where his son lay. Why did this have to happen? He asked himself for the hundredth time over.

The frantic voices of the healers aroused him from his thoughts. Something was wrong. He stood and walked over to the healers as they stood over his son. "What is wrong?" He asked. He knew his son was severely injured, but was there something else?

"My lord," One of them said, pushing him aside. "I understand you are worried, but you must let us do our job."

"Tell me what is happening!" He practically begged.

The healer did not look up from his work as he answered the King's plea. "He was poisoned. How he has been able to stay alive as long as he has, I know not. I am doing all I can for him, but you must give us some room to work."

"Poisoned?" The king whispered in disbelief. No one answered him though, and he was forced to retreat back to his corner. Others from outside would come in on occasion and try to convince him to leave, but he refused.

Hours passed before one of the healers came to him. "He still lives your majesty, but we need to get him back to the stronghold for proper care. We can only do so much for him here in the forest."

Thranduil nodded and stood and went to his son. Color had returned to his face somewhat, but what worried the King the most was the sound of his son's breathing. It was slow and harsh. Thranduil nearly wept at the sight of the many bandages that covered most of Legolas' body.

"Legolas, please don't leave me." Thranduil pleaded of his son. "Don't give in." But there was no answer from the still form.

Thranduil stayed with him throughout the night. And was always close by while they traveled home should something change.

By the time they reached the place they called home, the Prince had yet to awaken and many worried he wouldn't. But the King refused to listen to them. He knew Legolas would wake, he had too. The King could not bear the thought of him not.

Several days passed from the time they arrived and Thranduil could still be found by his son's bedside. No one rushed him to return to his duties as King just yet as it was clear that he would not be able to see to them properly. So they let him be.

Thranduil sat in silence, looking upon his son, wondering if he would ever see him doing what he loved to do again. Leading his troops with such an air of authority for one so young. He had so much respect for others, and in turn, others (including many of his peers) respected him, and not for his title. The elven King smiled at the thought, but his eyes traveled back to the figure on the bed and his heart became heavy once again. It pained him to no end to see the one light in his life, so... Broken.

"Legolas, you must awake. Saes, do not give in to the darkness. I need you." He called desperately, and not for the first time. But the silence continued to reign and Thranduil knelt by the bed and wept. Hope slowly deserting him, leaving him empty and alone.

A soft moan sounded and Thranduil looked up, not daring to trust his own hearing. Legolas slowly opened his eyes, blinking as the light flooded them.

Legolas startled as Thranduil came to his feet. Thranduil placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving.

"Ada?" Legolas croaked and Thranduil could have cried for joy at his sound of his son's voice.

"Yes, it is me ion nin. You need not be afraid, for you are safe now. We are home and more harm will come to you."

"How long was I gone?"

The King sighed, he had no desire to answer that question right now, so instead he answered. "That is not important right now. Go back to sleep, you have yet to recover your strength."

Thranduil watched as his son relaxed slightly. But before Legolas fell asleep, he lifted his trembling hand and Thranduil gently took it into his own as his son fell into a deep sleep.

Okay, unlike the last one, I take full responsibility for this one. Lol

Translations: Saes, nesta ion nin. Please, heal my son.