"My lord?"

Thranduil stirred. "Hmm?"

"Your medicine, my lord," said Harune. He held out the glass of green liquid to Thranduil. The medicine bubbled and smoked.

Thranduil yawned and stretched. He shook his head. "No, Harune. I do not need it. Not ever again. Legolas healed me."

It felt good to finally say those words. It felt good to know he would never have to depend on medicine to heal his pain. It felt good to know his son loved him.

"I am glad to hear that, my lord," said Harune with a smile. He departed the room. Once outside the room, he silently cheered and hurled the glass of medicine over the balcony in ecstasy.

Back in his room, Thranduil smiled and ran a hand over Legolas's smooth, beautiful face. He cuddled his son's warm body back to his chest and went back to sleep, dreaming about cherries for the first time in a long time.