Legolas stood up. His eyes met Thranduil's with a pleading expression. He tore his gaze away from his father's and crossed the room. He stretched out his hand and picked up the belt from the back of the armchair. He walked back to his father and held out the belt.

Thranduil took it, wondering what Legolas meant by giving it to him. A sudden thought struck him and dread filled his heart. Surely Legolas did not expect him to strike him? After all he had tried to show his son how much he loved him?

Legolas held out his hands. "You can punish me now, ada." He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, a slight tremor running through his body.

Thranduil dropped the belt, filled with dismay. How much time would it take before Legolas believed he would never hurt him? He reached out and captured his son in an embrace, drawing the elfling into his lap. "Oh, Legolas, no. My sweet, little leaf, never, never, never would I strike you. How could I, when I love you so much?"

Legolas curled into Thranduil's arms; a few tears sliding down his pale cheeks. "I-I am sorry. But I thought from the story, you were going to do what your father did to you . . ."

"Oh, Legolas, that was the wrong moral. The story was meant to teach you I am here to protect you from harm. I do not blame you for what you thought; the presence of my father in the story might naturally have brought you to the wrong conclusion."

Legolas looked up, his face breaking into a soft smile as Thranduil wiped away his tears. "I am sorry I was late. I did not mean to upset you, ada."

"I know you would never do that, Legolas. And I am not angry with you. What were you so engaged in you forgot about the time?" Thranduil asked, kissing Legolas on the cheek, tasting slight traces of salt.

Legolas lowered his eyes, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I met someone while I was building my tower of stones, so we built a whole castle together."

"What is the name of your new friend?"

"His name is Landion," Legolas said. "We went to the kitchens for a snack before we finished our castle. And when we were done, it was late."

"I see. Well, next time please try to remember to come home on time. I was afraid you were hurt." Thranduil hugged his son tight.

"Goheno nin," Legolas apologized.

"It is all right, Legolas. Tomorrow you can take me to visit your new friend."

"I do not know where he lives," Legolas said. "I forgot to ask. I will ask when I see him next."

"Good idea. Now it is your bedtime."

"May I have some dinner first, ada?" Legolas pleaded. "It is a long time since lunchtime."

"I would not wish for you to go to bed hungry, Legolas," Thranduil exclaimed.

"Not even as punishment?"

"That would depend. Come eat."

Celebrail come into the chamber with a tray of food. Harune was away visiting his daughter in the Iron Hills for three months. Before he had left, Harune had taken great pains to train his apprentice to take his place until he returned.

"My lord, it is with deepest regrets I must inform you the scouts were unable to find your—" Her eye fell on Legolas and she stopped.

"My son found me," Thranduil said with an easy smile. "You may leave the tray on the table and tell the scouts my son is safe."

Celebrail nodded, depositing the tray on the round table to the left of Thranduil's bed. She left the room with a small bow, the skirt of her green robe swishing around her slender ankles, her hazel hair flowing down her back like a cloak of silk.

Legolas slid off Thranduil's lap and ran to the table. Thranduil sat down opposite him. Dinner consisted of a heaping salad, two sandwiches, a bowl of pudding, and two slices of cake.

"You eat the sandwiches, I will eat the salad, and we will share desert," Thranduil said, digging into the salad.

"There is only one spoon for the pudding," Legolas said, biting into his salad.

"A minor problem," Thranduil replied.

Celebrail reentered the room with a handful of letters. The envelopes were all marked urgent. Thranduil looked at Legolas. His son was immersed in a world of his own, staring dreamily into space. Thranduil took the letters and opened them. Most of them were bills and reports filed by his commanding officers. The last one caught his attention.

"Valar!" Thranduil exclaimed in horror, forgetting Legolas was in the room. "A child has gone missing. How dreadful. Landion—"

"Landion?" Legolas interrupted, forgetting his manners.

Thranduil shot his son a stern glance. "Please let me finish reading, and reserve your comments for afterwards."

Legolas's face turned crimson and he dropped his head, murmuring, "Sorry, ada."

Thranduil returned his eyes to the page. "Landion Ashwood, age; nineteen human years, hair; black, eyes; green. Last seen with his aunt in Mirkwood a week ago. Ashwood? Ashwood! Celebrail, this is—this is not your son, is it?"

Celebrail nodded, his pretty face lined with worry. She opened his mouth to speak but tears welled up in her blue eyes and she turned away, struggling to control herself. Tears would shame here before her king.

Thranduil dropped the paper and rose to his feet, almost knocking over his chair. "What happened? I am a father; I understand how you feel."

Celebrail did not turn around as she spoke. "My sister took Landion out on a woodland expedition. They were going to stay with a friend of ours a few miles away for five days so I did not begin to worry until yesterday. We searched and searched but we could not find a trace of them, so I-I filed the report."

"You might have told me," Thranduil said.

"I have told you. I did not wish to bother you until I was sure of my facts."

"Sure of your facts! Come sit down, Celebrail." Thranduil guided the sobbing elleth to his armchair by the empty hearth. She sank down and cried into her white handkerchief.

"I am so afraid, my lord. What if he is dead? What if spiders or wolves . . ." Celebrail shuddered.

"I am sure Landion is not dead," Thranduil soothed. "Legolas met your son today."

Celebrail's head jerked up. "Where? When?"

"In the forest," said Legolas, coming to stand beside his father. "I was playing near the forbidden grove."

Thranduil's heart jumped. Legolas had forgotten to mention that. He laid a restraining hand on Celebrail's shoulder. "Wait until tomorrow before searching for your son. It is dark out and the forest is dangerous near the forbidden grove. I will send scouts with you."

Celebrail nodded. She rose to her feet. "Thank you, my lord. Your words mean much to me." She hurried from the room.

Thranduil drew in a deep breath and turned to his son. "You went near the forbidden grove?"

Legolas hung his head. "Yes, ada."

"Even after I have told you many times not to?"

"Yes, ada," Legolas said in a trembling voice.

"I am very disappointed with you," Thranduil said, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at his cringing son. "That place is full of evil. Many, many elves have wandered in, enticed by illusions and charms, and never come out! Never, never, never go near it again or I will punish you."

Legolas let out a soft cry, the plaintive wail of fear.

"I will not beat you, Legolas, nor will I whip or spank you, but I will not allow you to go outside until I trust you again if you disobey me," Thranduil warned.

"But Landion," Legolas began.

"I do not care. You are not to look for him or go near the forbidden grove. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, ada," Legolas said meekly.