"Legolas! Calm yourself, my child. Do you even hear what you say?"

Elenlin chuckled slightly as he gently pushed me into a seat.

After giving the fawn into the care of Bard—he was only too delighted when I did so—I had gone directly to my mentor, to gain his advice on the matter of the giant spider. To be fair, my story was wild, and I can understand his incredulous, response. But that did not mean I appreciated him taking the safety of our kingdom lightly.

"You are over excited and imagining things. Giant spiders inhabiting Lasgalen? That is absurd."

I shook my head. "No, my lord. And it is certainly not the first time this kind of thing has taken place. Do not forget Ungoliant and her vile offspring."

He shook his head. "Such things passed away with the Eldar Years, Heruamin. There have been no such creatures inhabiting Middle-earth since that time."

"My lord, you know that the guards have been sighting strange creatures for some time now. It is part of this sickness! There is something out there, and I believe I now know what."

He shook his head. "I am sorry, Legolas, but I simply cannot believe such an absurd tail as this. Perhaps you ought to go and take some rest. You did not sleep well last night."

I looked at him in surprise.

"My lord, how did you know that?"

He chuckled. "Child, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when you have not taken sleep."

I nodded slightly. "No, I did not sleep well. What you spoke to me last night did not bode well with rest."

Elenlin's eyes grew serious. "No, indeed. It is a troubling thing that has befallen our people."

I looked keenly toward him, trying to understand the riddles he had chosen to speak to me in. I decided my best hope was to simply speak to him, and let him say what was truly on his mind, without necessarily realizing it. "Yes, my lord. The illness that has befallen these lands troubles my very being."

He smiled sadly. "Of course. As well it should. I would be deeply concerned if the sickness did not cause you some sort of anxiety and, well, a measure of uncertainty about life."

I must have looked at him like he was insane. I certainly felt like it.

"You would be concerned if I was not unsure about my life? You want me to be fearful?" I could not believe my ears.

"No, no. That is not what I meant, child. What I am trying to say is, that in such a crisis, you are bound to be unsure, and perhaps even unstable at times, due to your youth and inexperience. Even you must admit that you know next to nothing about the world. The kingdom has been sequestered ever since you were an infant."

I sighed. "Heruamin, that does not mean I know nothing of the world. I have been outside of Lasgalen on several separate occasions and I—"

He held up his hand. "Legolas, my child, you have never really been outside of Greenwood. You may have been in other lands, but always has your father forced you to have Lasgalen all around you wherever you go. Bodyguards, curfews, servants. You have never really been outside of Greenwood."

I couldn't really argue with that. After all, he had been there most of the time.

"Just because one is inexperienced does not mean they must become weak and terrified every time something happens to change their world."

He smiled. "No, but you are frightened by the changes in your world, Legolas. You are not yet ready to face this world."

"And yet you would have me prepare to take up my Father's place." I spoke coolly, but anger was deep in my heart. You would have me take my Father's place because you are not satisfied with him.

"My lad, I do not ask you to supplant your Father, or to become King. I simply warn you that trouble is rising, and he will need you before the end. The kingdom will need you."

I remained silent. After all, what was there to say? He had told me what he thought, and it hardly made any more sense to me then it had before.

At last, I looked him in the eyes.

"What is it you want from me?"

He sighed, looking slightly irritated. "I do not want anything from you, Leaf. I simply am trying to warn you that, thanks to this strange sickness in the wood, your life is going to change, one way or the other."

I nodded. "Everything changes, my lord. We cannot hold back the wind with a tree branch. We must be ready for it when it comes and accept that it will. Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

He shook his head slowly. "You will understand in time, my child. But, if that is all you can grasp at this moment, I will not try to force you to see more."

I nodded and quietly walked away, but my mind was spinning. What more was there that I did not understand, that was so crucial for me to know?

"Da!"

As I walked through the house, Bard ran up to me and grasped my leg.

"Da, the fawn is feeling better now, and it is eating one of your shirts."

"Is it now, ion nin?" I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I took his hand in my own. "I suppose it is simply hungry. Should we give it something to eat?"

He nodded.

It wasn't long before we had found some milk and warmed it. Then I placed it in a bowl and selected a small, thickly woven rag.

We returned to the fawn, which was now whimpering with hunger and staring up at us with her huge, soulful eyes.

Gently, I lifted the tiny creature onto my lap, and dipped the rag into the milk.

"May I feed it?" Bard stood next to me, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Please, Da?"

I shook my head. "Not this time, Bard. It will not likely wish to eat from you hand for some time, yet. Creatures of the wild have a fear of Humans."

He looked disappointed, but he nodded, albeit grudgingly.

Soon, the fawn was full and content, cuddling down into my lap and rubbing her head into my lap, rubbing her head against the soft folds of my tunic.

I put the creature down on my pillow, placing a soft, warm blanket over her.

"There we are." I turned back to Bard. "Now, what should we do, now?"

He shrugged. "I don't know." I saw his eyes wander to a minute collection of books in the corner, and then out the nearby window, resting finally on the water.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Da, could we swim?"

Absolutely not! "Is it not a bit cold for swimming? You might catch a cold."

He shook his head. "No, Da. I don't get sick."

Somehow I doubt that. I desperately searched for some other thing to do with the child. I do not wish to swim in this filthy lake.

"I am sorry, Bard, but the water is not clean enough for swimming and it is too cold." Gently, I wrapped my arm around him. "Perhaps we could—"

I knew not what I was going to say, but I was spared, as the child cuddled against my side, and embraced me with both of his thin, pale arms. He looked into my eyes, and spoke, with an unreserved love that I fear is all to often only found in children.

"We could just stay here, and be together. That would make me really happy."

I put my other arm around him, and pulled him close.

"Yes, ion nin. We could."