Landion peeked into the room Healer Jailil had given him, wondering if Harune was in it. He glanced down the hall, hastening into the shadows as he saw Healer Jailil coming out of Thranduil's room, but the elf was walking in the opposite direction, toward his office. Landion wondered where Harune would be for his room was empty.

One of the healer apprentices was coming down the hall toward him, her arms full of papers and her face flustered.

"Excuse me," Landion said meekly. "But have you seen Harune?"

The elf looked at him with impatience. "Yes, he passed me a while back, and what a mess he made of my papers!"

"Where was he going?" Landion called as the elf hurried on her way.

"How should I know?" came the sharp reply.

Landion's head drooped. After a moment, he straightened up and decided to follow the direction Harune had gone in. The hall forked left and right at the end, the entrance to both ways flanked by armed guards.

"Have you seen Harune?" Landion asked hopefully, feeling shy under the gaze of the trained Mirkwood warriors.

"He passed us a few minutes back," said one guard, nodding his head in the direction of the left hallway. "And what a state he was in. I wonder if the King is all right?"

Landion called his thanks as he ran down the passageway, leaving the guard to his thoughts. By asking the guards he passed, he found himself staring at the sturdy oak door leading into Harune's chambers. He looked at it with hesitation, not sure he could face Harune or the door, for that matter. The short hall he stood in was empty and the guards usually on duty at its end were off duty, enjoying a vacation in the kitchen, eating fine bread and wine so there was no one to see the shy elfling.

Landion swallowed. Stepping up to the door, he knocked. Tempted to flee as soon as he heard footsteps inside the room, he clenched his fists and stood rock still. The door opened inward and Harune looked out, dressed in his usual soft, long robes. He stopped and stared at Landion. His eyes seemed a little red, and his face seemed pale.

"I-I," Landion stammered, feeling guilty for making Harune cry. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and he flung himself against Harune. He wrapped his arms around Harune's waist and buried his face in the cloth of his robe. It took him a few seconds to regain his broken breath and he murmured, "I will be your son if you will be my father. Will you?" He looked up at Harune, still holding tight to him.

Harune's face softened into a smile and his eyes twinkled. He knelt down and pulled Landion into a tight hug. "I would be more then happy to be your father."

Landion rested his head on Harune's shoulder, enjoying the embrace. Harune's—his father's—gentle hands ran over his hair and pulled him close again. Harune pulled away after a minute only to plant kisses with smiling lips all over his son's face.

Landion giggled.

"You can sleep with me tonight," Harune said. Then he quickly amended, "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

Landion nodded, his eyes shining at the thought of being snuggled and cuddled. He leaned back into Harune's embrace.

"We will have to fix you up a room," Harune said thoughtfully, rubbing Landion's back. "Luckily, we have plenty off this hall so we will not be far apart."

"I never want to be apart," Landion murmured.

"Neither do I," Harune agreed.

The day came to a close quickly and Landion found himself snuggled in Harune's arms, covered in warm blankets. The moonlight shone through a gap in the curtains, and Harune's fingers stroked his hair.

"Harune?" Landion said after a long silence.

"You can call me ada now," Harune said.

Landion squirmed. He turned his head to look into Harune's eyes. Uncomfortably he said, "I-I want to but I cannot."

"Why not?" Harune asked in surprise.

"I had an ada a long time ago," Landion explained, his voice soft with memory. "But he died. It took me a long time to understand he was gone forever . . . he died when I was only seven years old. He was one of the palace guards and he was gone from home all day. He would come back in the evening and we would play and roll on the floor and read books. After he died, the word ada died with him . . . I am truly sorry I cannot call you ada."

Harune patted Landion's cheek. "It is all right, ion nin, I understand. You sleep now. After this long day, you must be tired."

"Perhaps the word will come back to life," Landion murmured, rolling onto one side and nuzzling against Harune.

"Perhaps it will," Harune agreed.