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Landion wanted water. He tossed in his sleep, trying to force his heavy eyes open without success. He felt as if fire burned at every point in his body, his bones aching. Never had he felt so heavy. Iron weights smothered him and, as he wriggled, he screamed as pain lit up in his left side.

Someone touched his forehead and held a glass of water to his lips. Landion choked on the bitter liquid and tried to turn his head away but his body would not listen to him. He wanted to speak, to ask for his father, but his lips would not work.

He could hear the slur of his words echoing above him and his heart filled with desperation, as he realized no one could understand him—no one knew what he needed.

A cool clothe on his forehead lessened his discomfort as the knotted, heated blankets were shaken out and tucked smooth around him. He tried again to open his eyes but found himself too weak.

Why is ada not here? Landion wondered, his mind blurry with past events. Why has he left me to bear this pain alone? Ada!

His heart wept a silent plea he could hear but no one else could. He tried to concentrate on the soft voice singing to him but the tears rolling down his cheeks distracted him.

He heard a voice speak in urgent tones to someone and, for a moment, his heart lightened at Legolas's name. It died into silence.

Landion fought to say his nephew's name but he struggled in vain.

Hurting and hot, Landion drifted into a dark realm where fires seemed to burn all around him and he could not escape the black dreams following him.

OoOoO

Holding the cool clothe to Landion's forehead as the elfling muttered slurred words, Healer Jailil turned to Legolas.

The young prince stood staring at Landion, his lips trembling at the obvious site of his uncle's pain.

"Legolas!" Healer Jailil snapped, his voice tense, "Fetch your father now."

Legolas stumbled toward the door as Galion swept past him with clean clothes and a bowl of ice water.

Legolas banged into Thranduil's office. His father looked up with stern eyes, ready to scold him, but stopped at Legolas's expression.

"Ada, Healer Jailil says you must come at once," Legolas gasped. "It is Landion."

"Oh, no, no," Thranduil said, dropping the stack of papers in his hands. "I cannot come, Legolas. I have an important meeting now I cannot miss."

"But Landion could be dying!" Legolas pleaded.

"Go back and tell Healer Jailil I cannot come," Thranduil said, unwillingness in his eyes.

Legolas searched with desperation for a solution. "You must go to him—I-I will tell Galion to attend the meeting in your stead. Harune has trained him in a large field of skills and I am sure he can."

Thranduil shoved his crown into Legolas's hands. "Do it. It is being held in the usual conference chamber. Now go!"

Leaving his son standing in the open door of the office, Thranduil raced to the healing wing. Healer Jailil stood by the bed, his hands stained red with Landion's blood. The elfling shrieked and howled, pinned down by two white-faced apprentices, the sheets reddened with his blood.

Thranduil bit his lip.

"I have to clean this wound," Healer Jailil apologized. "Else the infection will worsen. Help me."

"You have to remove the arrowhead," Thranduil insisted.

As he applied another wet cloth to the wound, Landion screamed again. Healer Jailil frowned in concentration. "It is not as easy as signing a paper, Thranduil. Do you not understand? Removing the arrowhead will kill him."

Thranduil heard Landion's ragged breathing and went to relieve one of the apprentice healers of his duty. He leaned over his brother, holding Landion to him. Sweat ran down the elfling's forehead and he gasped for breath but calmed as he felt a familiar touch.

"It will be alright," Thranduil said, more to assure himself then Landion. He dried the sweat from Landion's face and stroked his forehead with a cool hand. "You will be fine, muindor nin, you will be fine."

Healer Jailil finished his work and tied the bandages. Thranduil lifted Landion in his arms as the apprentice healers changed the sheets. Landion's lips moved as Thranduil put him back down but his words were lost in his fever.

Thranduil held Landion's hand as he sat beside him, singing in elvish.

For four hours Thranduil sat with Landion, keeping a cool cloth on his forehead and his voice filling the room. Landion slept, his breathing still unsteady but his tossing stopped.

Thranduil wondered how Galion fared at the meeting. He smiled. It should be over in another hour or so. He squeezed Landion's hand and looked up, his eyes confused as Galion entered with a tray of food.

"What are you doing here?" Thranduil gasped. "You cannot have finished at the meeting already?"

"Meeting, my lord?" Galion questioned, setting down the tray.

"Legolas said he would tell you to attend the meeting in my stead," Thranduil said.

"I have been here since early morning assisting Healer Jailil, my lord. We are working on finding a cleansing antidote strong enough to conqueror the filth on the orc arrowhead."

"But then . . ." Thranduil put Landion's hand into Galion's and rose to his feet. "Sing to him. I have the most awful feeling . . ."

Thranduil smoothed his hair and clothes as he rushed toward the conference chamber. He almost tripped over the hem of his robe as he entered under the archway. Two dozen elves sat around the round table, listening with rapt attention and amused eyes to the person at the head of the table, in Thranduil's chair. The small elfling had to sit upright on his knees to see down the high table.

"Legolas Greenleaf!" Thranduil cried. "What in Middle Earth are you doing?"

Legolas turned to look at him, adjusting the crown on his head with care as it was a little too big for him and haughtily adjusted the folds of his borrowed silk mantle.

"I am addressing the meeting—should I call you my king, my lord, or my father?"

Thranduil turned swiftly away to wrestle his expression under control before he faced Legolas. "You lied to me. You knew well Galion would not be able to come."

"I lied for Landion," Legolas insisted. "I-I knew he needed you; I had to make you go. And I knew you would not go unless you knew someone else would be here."

"So you put the future of Mirkwood on the line? The future of the Third Merchant Act on the line?"

"I do not know what you mean," Legolas protested. "I have not put anything on the line. I have addressed the meeting, like I told you, and if you would only ask them, you might know I have not ruined all your hard work. Now, if you will kindly not interrupt—"

Several of the elves at the table choked on their wine, coughing until their laughter subsided. Thranduil's eye fell on the goblet in front of Legolas and his face lit up. "You have been drinking!"

"I sent down to Nimrethil for lemonade. And I cannot get anything done when you keep talking!" Legolas cried in frustration. "You make me sit down and listen quietly when I come in to your meetings and I do not see why you cannot do the same for me!"

"You should not be here in the first place. You are dismissed; you may return my property to me and wait in your room for me to come speak with you about this."

One of the elves at the table spoke, "My lord, with all due respect, we are, in fact, in the middle of the meeting and we would be much obliged to you if we could finish it in peace, with the Head of Kingdom we started out with."

Thranduil paused to look at the elf before he nodded curtly and sat down on a bench against the wall. Legolas cleared his throat, picked up Thranduil's notes, eyed the next line, and resumed reading.

"In conclusion, The Third Merchant Act is—I cannot read this word—here to ensure the lives of those to provide our kingdom with supplies' are rewarded in full for their efforts. Those of noble blood are prone to forget those of working class often have families themselves. The Third Merchant Act will—something with an E—those who make our lives easier have the time to spend with their families. With your consent—something with an I—The Third Merchant Act will be affected—no—enacted immediately. With the best interests—Something with an O—of our Kingdom in mind, I ask the Council to either approve or decline The Third Merchant Act. Please pass your vetoes—no—votes."

Thranduil dropped his head into his hands, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Either Legolas needed more time reading aloud or he had scribbled the last lines of his notes in a hurry. He had a vague feeling it was the latter.

"I will now take your votes," Legolas announced as the scratch of pens stopped. He collected the slips of paper and unfolded each one, making a single neat stack before he declared, adjusting the crown to keep it from falling off his head, "With full approval from the Council, The Third Merchant Act will be enacted immediately. I—ahem—ada—err—King Thranduil will do the necessary paperwork in his office as soon as possible. Since the minutes have already been read, we are all dismissed. Bother this crown."

Thranduil rescued the royal circlet from Legolas's hands. His son attacked the last of his drink and slumped in his chair. "I now understand why you are often late coming back from a meeting, ada—um—King Thranduil—your majesty—I do not know what to call you formally," Legolas admitted.

"Hir nin will do fine. I suppose the rest of your speech was not as bad as the last lines?"

Legolas stared at him in sudden indignation. "I do not know what you mean. It is not my fault I could not read the smears of ink you left behind in your last lines. The rest of my speech was a smooth epistle that, as you can see, resulted in full approval of The Third Merchant Act. But, do you know, after reading pages and pages, I still do not know what it is all about."

"I assure you Prince Legolas enlivened our meeting with a spirit we did not expect," a second elf said. "Usually the wine is all that pulls us through. We thank you for this unforgettable experience."

As the council members filed out of the room, Legolas yawned and rubbed his eyes. Thranduil looked at his son with pity. "You must be tired after all these hours in this chair. Come, I will carry you up to bed."

"Are you still mad?" Legolas mumbled into his shoulder.

"No, I am not mad. And I think reading for four hours or so aloud is punishment enough for lying to me. But I do not want this to happen again. Do you understand?"

Legolas nodded. "Yes, ada. I am sorry I lied to you. I did not want Landion to be in pain without you. But, ada, do you think I might come with you in the future and maybe read some of the address to the meeting?"

"We will see what the future holds," Thranduil answered.

Legolas rested his head on Thranduil's shoulder. "I-I am sorry I lied," he mumbled.

"You do not need to apologize again, little leaf," Thranduil said kindly. "We are worried about Landion and we want him to be happy. I know you did what you thought best."

After putting Legolas down to nap on his bed, Thranduil walked to the healing wing. He found Elrond alone making a poultice of herbs. The lord of Rivendell nodded to him.

"We hope this mix will cancel Landion's infection," Elrond said. "And do not ask me to remove the arrowhead; I cannot without ending him."

"Legolas told me you refrained from violent measures the other day with Elladan and Elrohir," Thranduil said.

Elrond focused on his task. "Yes."

"You are making progress," Thranduil said. "And I am happy you are showing the twins you love them."

Elrond looked up. "I could not have done it without you. I am sorry I cannot do more for Landion. But I . . . do not wish to have the death of another elf on my hands. Especially when it is a child."

Thranduil gave a strained smile. "You are doing all you can and I thank you. I—we—both know you have struggled in the past with keeping to your vow of non-violence with Elladan and Elrohir. I do not want to see you fall back the steps you have fought to climb."

"Have you any suggestions as to how I might keep my balance?"

"I do," Thranduil said.

I must say I had a chuckle at Legolas's time at the meeting! Did you laugh at his last address?

Thank you all for reading. It means so much to me and I love hearing from you!

Next Chapter: Elrond and the twins talk.