Thranduil sat down in his throne. He grew restless. Why was he sitting here? There was nothing to be done. Normally, he could have sat in his throne all day, infatuated with his own sense of pride. But now such a pastime seemed foolish.

Thranduil got up and went to Legolas's new room next to his bedchamber. Healer Jailil was sitting next to Legolas on the bed, reading him a story. He nodded to Thranduil and stopped reading.

Legolas's eyes brightened when he saw his father. "Adar! You came back!"

"Of course I did. Enjoying the story?"

"Very much, adar. No one ever read to me before. And Healer Jailil says he has lots of elflings and I can play with them when I get better!"

Thranduil smiled and sat down next to his son. He took the storybook from Healer Jailil. "Let me finish the story. How many children do you have, Healer?"

"Fifteen. And each one is as precious to me as a leaf to a tree."

"By the valar, how dare you read this book to my son?" Thranduil exploded, seeing the title of the book. "This is a book about dwarves!"

"Yes, my lord," said Healer Jailil. "Forgive me; I was unaware you would not approve. I read that book to my children every night."

"Come outside the room for a minute, Healer!" Thranduil said, keeping his voice calm so he would not frightened Legolas. Once outside the room, he exploded, "Are you insane? Dwarves are the enemy! Get rid of all these books! At once! Immediately! How dare you—? What were you thinking?"

"Dwarves are not the enemy, my lord. At least, not to me," Healer Jailil said flatly. "I do not want my children to grow up narrow-minded towards dwarves. The stories I read them show them that dwarves are not monsters but as blessed as we are."

Thranduil's eyebrow twitched.

"My lord, being a father is a huge responsibility. What you teach your son will affect his life forever. I beg you to chose wisely the lessons you will teach Legolas. As for the books, I refuse to comply to your wishes!" With his head held high, Healer Jailil walked away.

Thranduil growled. He marched back into his son's room. Legolas was studying the pictures in the dwarven storybook. "Look, ada, are the crystals not pretty? It must be beautiful in dwarven caves."

"The forest is more lovely, Legolas," Thranduil said.

"Yes, adar." Legolas bowed his head. He realized he had said something wrong but he did not know what is was or why it had displeased his father.

Thranduil realized he was practically forbidding Legolas to speak his thoughts; he was crushing his son's freewill. Legolas would become afraid and silent around him, scared of saying something wrong.

"I am sure the dwarves' caves are lovely, ion-nin," Thranduil said. "Let me finish the story."

Thranduil wrapped an arm around his son's delicate shoulders and took up the storybook. Legolas snuggled up against him. He liked listening to his father's voice reading the story. He felt calm and peaceful and he was not afraid.

"Did you like the story, little leaf?" Thranduil asked gently when the story was over. He put the book aside.

"Hmmm. Yes, adar. Hannon le," said a sleepy, little voice. "I am sorry I am so tired. I wish I could stay awake and spend more time with you, ada."

Thranduil pulled the blankets over his son. "Go to sleep, ion-nin. You were badly hurt and you need your rest to recover. We have eternity before us to be together. And tomorrow I am going to give you a bath!"

"A bath?" yawned Legolas. "What is a bath . . . . . ?" Then he was asleep.