Note: I am home from cooking for 100 men. Chivalry, I am pleased to say, still lives! Mentions of your kind comments and votes will resume next chapter! Thank you all for your encouragement! I love y'all. 

Dusk was settling over the forest when Thranduil and Legolas entered the king's bedchamber, full from dinner and drowsy after a long day. Ailunai's chest sat out on the floor and the silver key lay on the dresser.

"You have not opened it?" Thranduil asked as he sat down and pulled off his boots.

Legolas clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head. "No. I wanted to open it with you."

Thranduil smiled. He knelt by the chest. "Bring me the key."

Legolas gave it to him and sat down beside him. The chest was carved with a rose vine, flowers in full bloom, snaking up the trunk of an oak tree. The smell of cedar wood drifted perfumed the air as Thranduil lifted the lid.

Legolas peeked into the chest, his breath catching in his throat. He saw dainty slippers and faded roses, trinkets and boxes all lying atop the silk and cotton of several folded dresses.

"You pick an item and I will tell you why it was special to your mother," Thranduil invited.

Legolas chose a small wooden box with a blue stone embedded in the top. He opened it and found it full of folded paper.

"Your mother saved every invitation I sent her during our courting years in this box," Thranduil said. "It later held our wedding rings."

Legolas unfolded a slip of parchment and looked at the beautiful letters, faded but still fresh, on the white surface, before he glanced at Thranduil's silver band. He out the box down and picked out the slippers. "Let me guess; she wore these on your first dance."

Thranduil laughed. "Oh no, she wore the life out of those years ago. These are the slippers she wore while she was pregnant with you. They were easier on her feet since they have no heels."

Legolas weighed the green and white shoe on his palm with new appreciation for their softness before he dove into the chest again. He came out with a carved fan.

Thranduil touched the wooden slats laced together. Legolas opened the fan and regarded the little dots running up and down the wood.

"It was a wedding present from Onyx," Thranduil said. "She never went out on a summer day without it."

"I did not know Onyx could carve," Legolas said in surprise.

"He can do much more then most of us give him credit for," Thranduil said with a smile.

Legolas touched the dresses next. He left them at the bottom of the chest, not wanting to disturb their neat folds. Thranduil said, "The white dress is the one she married me in. The rose one was her favorite garb for every day. And the green one wore while you grew inside her."

"I guess that is why I like trees so much," Legolas whispered, and blinked at the tears in his eyes. He ran his hand over the dresses to avoid looking at his father and felt something hard. He felt under the cloth and drew out a book.

An expression of sadness flickered over Thranduil's face at the sight of the thick tome, rich in illustrated pages and clear text. He sighed as his fingers touched it.

"This belonged to Ailunai before I married her, before I even began courting her. She kept it on the dresser with her comb and brush. It was special to her in ways she tried to explain to me but I could not fully understand. Ailunai had a strong connection with the forest."

Legolas ran his hand over a drawing off an oak tree at midsummer. Each acorn and leaf was detailed. "This book is about trees."

He hesitated. "Ada . . . may I keep the book for a little while and read it? I would feel closer to nana reading something she treasured. It feels like she is still in the pages . . ."

Thranduil too hesitated before he answered, "If you promise to take good care if it, you may the book and read it. When you are done with it, put it back in the chest."

Legolas flung his arms around Thranduil's neck and hugged him. "Hannon le, ada."

He helped Thranduil replace the items in the chest and lock it before returning it to its resting place at the back of Thranduil's wardrobe. Legolas carried the book to his room and put it in the top draw of his dresser before he scrambled into his nightclothes and rejoined Thranduil in the elf king's big bed.

As Legolas pushed his pillows against the headboard, someone knocked on the door and Master Eire stuck his head into the room. He came to the bedside, fidgeting.

"Legolas," he said, "Forgive me for blaming you for the plight of the forest. I know what happened—what is happening—is not your fault and I am sorry I said it was."

Legolas considered. "So does this mean I can come help you copy messages tomorrow?"

Master Eire nodded.

"Will you be nice?" Legolas asked critically.

"As nice as I ever was," the elf replied.

Legolas grinned. "I forgive you."

"And I forgive you for barging into my chambers at this late hour, provided you leave immediately," Thranduil said, his eyes twinkling.

"My lord," Master Eire said, and hurried from the room.

Thranduil blew out the candle. In the darkness, he and Legolas chuckled.

OoOoO

Legolas paused outside Thranduil's office chamber as he walked past after a day spent in the pantries. He cocked his head and listened; Healer Jailil's voice spilling though a crack in the open door.

"—We have many injured elves on our hands, Thranduil, and the healing ward is quickly reaching full capacity."

Thranduil's pen tapped against the desk. "I know the situation is grim but do what you can. Send slightly injured elves down to the caves. We will open as many rooms in the palace as we can, if need be."

"The elves we have at the healing ward have broken bones and many cannot walk without crutches. I have sent every elf I can down to the caves but the patrols keep bringing in more cases."

Thranduil sighed. "I am sorry I cannot give you more to work with."

"I am not complaining," Healer Jailil said. "I came to update you on the situation. I am as busy as you are so you will excuse me."

Healer Jailil turned and bumped into Legolas. The elfling grabbed a handful of his robe and whispered, "Is it really that bad?"

"I am afraid many elves have been hurt," Healer Jailil answered.

Legolas backed away from him, confused eyes tearing the healer's heart.

"Legolas!" Thranduil cried as his son bolted out the door.

Legolas reached the healing ward and burst through the door into the main hallway. The space had never been so busy. Elves packed the hall, arms full with bandages and trays, bottles of medicine, dried herbs, clean sheets, and hot water. The side halls were teaming with people, the clipped voices of Healers issuing orders from within healing chambers. Legolas gulped as apprentices dashed past him with sheets stained with blood and bowls of red liquid.

Long lists were pinned to the walls, evolving before the current jobs could be completed. The air seemed tense and the elves dashing from room to room tenser still.

Legolas broke out of the busy passageways and peeked into one of the main healing chambers. The long, rectangular room stretched out along the east wall of the healing wing, filled with a single row of four dozen beds. Similar rooms composed the rest of the east wing.

Every bed was full. As the eyes of the wounded elves turned toward him, Legolas's soul blazed with fire. And it burned. The hate in the elves' eyes was directed at him in full force, every gaze confuses. Hate—so much hate—drowned him like an ocean wave, making it hard to breath. He slammed the door and leaned against it.

An elf grabbed his shoulder. His voice was familiar—scolding—scolding—as is pushed Legolas forward. His feet dragged him down and the world revolved around him in a blurry haze. Something solid under him helped him center himself and, as he blinked, Thranduil's concerned face swam into focus.

"I am alright," Legolas managed to say.

"You are not alright," Thranduil said. "What is wrong?"

Glaring eyes filled Legolas's mind, piercing angry emotions into his heart. "I-I—they all hate me, ada. They hate me for hurting them. They blame me."

"Not everyone is as understanding as Master Eire," Thranduil said, stroking Legolas's cheek.

Legolas shuddered. Thranduil stood. "Sit here until you feel better."

"Please stay," Legolas begged, grabbing Thranduil's robe.

Thranduil's eyes broke. "I cannot."

"Ada!" Legolas wailed as Thranduil whirled away and vanished. He curled into the comfort of the sofa and cried, knowing he had filled Thranduil's day with work and now he must face the consequences. But it was not fair. He had already faced the consequences . . . They all hated him . . . no one would forgive him . . .

Tears welled in Legolas eyes and heart. He could not make anything right. He could not make anyone understand . . . He clutched Ailunai's book on trees to his chest and sent out a silent plea: "Nana, please help me. I am all alone and nothing I do is right."

It all began so happily over the precious belonging inside Ailunai's chest. Yet here is yet another hurt to be mended.

Was Thranduil right to give Legolas Ailunai's book?

Next Chapter: Legolas shares a moment with Arwen.