The sky is turning grey, dawn approaches, but it brings with it very little joy.

I have sat here all night, my limbs cold and numb from the gravel and rock, and my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Blinking back the dryness in my eyes I peek up at the light...the stars are disappearing.

"It will be morning soon," I mumble tiredly to her, cradling her gently, smiling sadly as I do. "The servants will be ghosting about the palace, the bread will be baking in the kitchens, and if we were home I'd be sneaking you back to your chambers...before Legolas caught us...again."

Silence.

"You distract me so much," I snivel pathetically, spluttering out a harsh and hallow huff. "I should be working Clara, you know that; you knew that and you really did not care...did you?"

Silence.

"The nights you sit and paint - in my rooms - lounging on my floors, covered in colours and looking like a messy child," I scold weightlessly. "The amount of evenings I wasted going over and over language, only for you to still sound like a uncouth dwarf stumbling over the simplest of words, and then you'd laugh and shrug as if none of it mattered...well it absolutely does matter...why did you do it?"

I scowl at her still form, her vacant half lidded eyes, and I feel a rush of emotion bubble up.

"If you were never going to stay," I bark the words out with a biting force, "if you were not meant for this place...then why did you make it seem so? You could have let me die Clara, left me to rot in my emptiness, why did you put in so much effort if you had absolutely no intention of staying with me? Good Eru Clara...fight!"

Silence.

I never thought death could take so long.  I do not even know how she was still here, how that small and weak thrum of life still pulsed under the papery thin skin of her neck?  The selfish part of me wants to believe she'll wake up, that there is strength left in her and that is why she is still here.  Yet, I have no idea what pain she is in?  How the poison must be slowly choking her, how her body must ache, maybe even my very touch is causing her agony? 

The nasty gash on her shoulder still seeps, so logic should tell me she isn't healing, that there is no hope left here.  Even if there was, even if she could, why would she want to stay after all she has suffered?

My hand runs along the length of her bare leg, matching my fingers to imprints of bruises there, before the horrific thoughts cause me to turn away to repress the urge to wretch. 

She told me they didn't touch her; I try to remind myself but how could I be sure?  She is so brave, so strong, she'd never admit to such violation and probably just to spare me the pain.  They could have broken her feä, darkened it with their evil torment, so she could never feel joy again.  I have heard of such evil and torture used on elves; used to break them so they become like orc.  Many fade or give up before any damage can be done, their heart's not able to bear the evil, but she is stronger than any elleth I know, she'd hold on, she'd fight them...for Legolas' sake she would.

I turn away, facing the direction of home and considering I should try and make it back for Legolas' sake. I feel like I could walk the distance now, the solid pounding on the left side of my skull has eased but my vision is still weak. If I ran into anymore trouble I do not think I'd have the strength, or the will, to fight them off. Besides, I won't leave Clara here, whether it's futile or not, I am bringing the people's princess home, she deserves to be celebrated, her bravery saved their King.

They will know what you did for us.

I glare resentfully at the rotting corpse of the orc shaman not but ten feet away.   The soulless creature's flesh already appearing to fill with maggots, devouring his wretched flesh with glee...it makes my very skin crawl. 

The image fills me with a sudden desire to run away, for to imagine Clara's body buried in the earth and filled with such disgusting, indiscriminate, greedy insects tearing up her beauty, ravaging her form, turning her to dust....it is too much to bear.

Grief crawls out of me again, and spews out of my chest like another devastated howl of denial.  I sound animalistic, I sound wrong, and for the longest moment I feel nothing but the current of energy moving through the forest.  I pour my sorrow into the static, so much so that the trees bow and groan in the breeze, the grass and shrubbery wilt and retract, and for a moment it is like winter has come in the height of summer.   Life falls away into a slumber, and I realise that this is were I shall send my elven soul if she departs; I will be in a permanent winter, lifeless, and in repose.  For she is my spring, the light that warms up my cold roots and brings me into new life...without her there is only winter.

With that revelation I am content.  I feel the wetness as the tears streak down my cheek -my left eye hallow and barely stinging.  I have pleaded with Eru Illuvatar all night, I have wrestled with my faith; my life for hers, another chance, just a moment to change the outcome, but all has been in vain.  So as Arien begins to tread her path across the morning sky, I fall into Clara's neck, burying myself from the light....for it all reminds me of her.

"I love you..." I barely croak through the sobs, but when  there is still nothing but silence, the weight of the statement crushes down on my heart. 

A gasp.

I freeze...there was sound...I felt her chest rise...maybe I have gone mad?

No...she breathed...I know she did!

"Clara?" I cry, my hands flying to cradle her head, as I briskly shake her.

Her lips part and her brows crease in a frown. My heart stutters for it is the same face she pulls when I disturb her rest or catch her deep in thought...it is so beautiful!

"Clara!" I call again only much more urgently.

"H-hhe-ey," she coughs weakly, her eyelids fluttering and straining to see, but I am more dumbfounded by her cheery greeting.

"You're alive!" My voice cracks in an emotional cry as slip my arm under her neck and draw her upwards. I can barely speak for the tears that I shed, and I can barely breathe for fear that this is a dream and in a moment she'll be gone.

"Thank you, ahh Thank you! Praise be to Illuvatar, praise be!" The praise spews from my lips without thought, for I can practically feel my spirit rise up in exultation...He brought her back...she is a gift...she is meant for this life!

In my utter ecstasy I shower her with kisses. I feel her luminous Feä begin to grow and in the moment I have never felt it so bright and strong, and like a moth to a flame I am drawn to it.

Through my tears she reaches up and cradles my cheek, her smile bright but her eyes are heavy with the battle she has fought. That smile, those eyes, her beautiful soul, it just renders me undone and I can do nothing but weep happy and relieved tears.

"Yes, my love, yes praise be!" Clara answers me, and I am momentarily stunned by the strength in her worn voice. There is a change in her, a new depth to her eyes, or maybe a note of something profound in her voice. Whatever it is, it is beautiful, and with much gentleness and care I lean into her and steal a soft kiss.

For the longest time I simply watch, or touch her, or indulge in featherlight kisses, because I am terrified that this will disappear and I am astonished that it doesn't fade. She is alive...there is no greater relief than this!

"Let's go home," I eventually murmur when I see how her eyelids grow heavy and how her breathing deepens. She needs care and the safety of home to revive her, I should not have been so selfish to tarry here.

"Yes, I want to go home," she answers as I stand up and carefully keep her cradled in my arms. She rests her head on my chest, her eyes closing as she breathes in deeply, a contented smile spreading across her face...yes, it's time we went home.

xXx

Aradan was frantic by the time I had found my way out of the river caves.  He had spent the night scouring the woods for me but with so many wounded, including the King, he had been forced to pull together a small camp. 

He found Clara and I on the outskirts of his haphazard camp, and had momentarily thought I carried her dead body in my arms.  The look of anguish that flashed across his face was to painful to observe.  I quickly assured him she was alive but she needed care, and we were swiftly led into camp where Clara was laid out on a roughly made pallet by a well stoked fire.

My father was there too, unconscious and breathing heavily.  His skin was pale and he appeared to be sweating out a fever. 

I sat between the both of them, not exactly sure who needed me most, and feeling like my heart had been ripped in two directions.  However, it was not long until I was reminded of exactly where I was needed.

"Thranduil," Aradan quietly spoke my name as he rested a hand on my shoulder.  I flinched and stared at him, well aware of the tears that continued to slowly track down my right cheek.  My friend gave me a sympathetic grimace as he gestured for me to follow him.  "It is okay mellon nin," he assured, "your father is going to be fine, he is just too weak to ride, I have sent for wagons and healers, they will be here very soon...but someone else needs you more."

He did not have to say another word - I already knew. 

I followed him across the camp to where the horses were tethered to an old sycamore.  At the base of the tree sat my elfling, with his knees curled to his chest and his head buried in his folded arms.

"Legolas," I murmured as I crouched by him.  He did not initially respond, and so I glanced worriedly to Aradan. 

"When your Adar lost consciousness he withdrew and hid here," Aradan answered me sadly, his shoulders sagging, "he has not uttered a word since we found him."

"Would you?" I ask and shake my head at my dearest friend, "he is far too young to have witnessed such brutality...I should never have brought him."

"No-one could have anticipated this," Aradan is quick in his attempt to purge my guilt, but there is nothing he could say that would free me from the devastation I feel in this moment.  I have well and truly failed my son.

I stretch out my hand and curl my fingers under his chin so to coax him to lift his head.  He does, but his beautiful blue eyes are faraway for a moment before they settle on me.  I smile for him and hold out my arms.  I watch as the tears gather in his eyes and in a few seconds he holds his arms out to reach for mine.  Immediately I yank him towards me, relieved that he did not refuse my offer, and feeling momentarily at peace to have my child within grasp.

I keep him locked tight in my embrace, letting him sob painfully as I soothingly rub his back and whisper comforting  words.  A few more stray tears find there way free of my own eye, triggered by the pain I feel at hearing the hurt and fear in my son's heartfelt sobs.

"Hush," I soothe as I stand and gently rock Legolas in my arms.  "It is alright now, there is nothing to fear anymore, Ada is here."

"N-n-nana," he sniffles and chokes out between huge and gasping sobs.  "W-w-wh-e-re is is Na-na-na?"

"She is here," I tell him and force his little head up so he can look me dead in the eye.  "I brought Clara  back, just like I promised...she is going to be okay."

"C-can I see her?" He asks pitifully, but I wrestle with his request.  Clara is still quite battered looking and I think he has borne witness to quite enough ugliness.

"She needs to rest," I tell him as I stroke his soft curls from his face.  "But I promise, once she is awake again, you can sae her...Clara will like that."

"No, I don't want to call her Clara anymore, Ada," Legolas shakes his head, his eyes wide and filled with a reverential adoration that he used to reserve only for me.  "She is my Nana...I know she is...I just feel it Ada...don't you?"

"Yes," I can barely answer him because of the lump caught in my throat.  "Yes Legolas, I feel it now.  Illúvatar answered your prayers ion nin...so no more tears., everything will be okay...I promise."

*****************************
A/N:  A surprise gift for all my readers...especially @SianaPetkova

Thank you all for the ongoing support.  xo

Media:  Fleurie - Hurts like Hell