Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.
Mirkwood's Plague II:
A/N: Ok, here we go. The sequel to 'Mirkwood's Plague'. This fic is a follow-up to that story and you really do need to read it before you start this one or it'll make very little sense to you.
A quick warning: later on in this story there will be a romantic relationship between Legolas and Glorfindel – nothing at all explicit will be taking place and it will be more of a comfort thing. However, if that's not your thing then don't read it and I won't hold it against you. If you do like this kind of story though I hope you enjoy it and remember to leave a review, I love getting them. If you leave a signed review then I'll try to get back to you, at the very least to offer a thank you.
Right, after all that, let's get on with the story.
Chapter 1 - Realisations
Thranduil tapped lightly on Legolas' door, balancing a tray holding a mug of steaming tea and a slice of buttered, toasted bread. After receiving no response Thranduil knocked again, slightly louder and called out his son's name softly. "Legolas, may I come in?" he asked but there was still no answer. Ignoring the lack of invitation Thranduil turned the handle and entered his son's spacious rooms. All the doors inside were open so Thranduil walked straight into the bedroom.
Legolas had closed all the curtains, shutting out the sunlight and casting the room into pleasant semi-darkness. Thranduil placed the tray on the table and sat down on the edge of his son's large bed. Legolas had not even stirred when his father entered and he didn't seem to notice him even now as he stretched out his hand and placed it on Legolas' warm cheek.
Smiling, Thranduil took his son's thin hand. "Legolas," he called softly, squeezing his hand. Still the younger Elf didn't so much as stir. Despite himself, Thranduil laughed softly. Although he had come in especially to wake Legolas, Thranduil could honestly have sat there all day long watching his son sleeping peacefully. He looked so peaceful laid there, snuggled beneath a mass of thick, warm blankets. He lay slightly on his side, his long blonde hair fanned out on the pillow beneath his head. His eyes remained closed and although it looked slightly strange to see him sleeping deeply rather than in the usual light Elven reverie there was no doubt that the Prince of Mirkwood had earned the right to rest peacefully.
However, the King had come here to wake his son and he had to do so, no matter how much he hated it. "Legolas, come on, time to wake up, ion nin." Legolas rolled fully onto his side and mumbled something incoherent. "I know," Thranduil soothed sympathetically.
Rather reluctantly, Legolas opened his eyes and focused on his father. "Ada?" he asked croakily, detaching Thranduil's hand from his own and rubbing his eyes to clear the blurriness away.
"I am sorry to wake you," Thranduil smiled as Legolas propped himself up on the pillows, obviously still sleepy. "I brought you some breakfast."
"You didn't have to do that," Legolas sighed.
"I wanted to. Besides, you need to eat something," Thranduil told him, placing the tray on his son's lap.
"I'm really not hungry, Ada."
"Maybe not but you still have to eat, even if only a little. You need to build up your strength." Legolas sighed dramatically. "Would you please just let me do my father thing and fuss over you for a little while?" Legolas smiled up at his father. "I think after everything you've been through – everything I've put you through – it's only right that I get to spoil you a bit. So, I have brought you breakfast. Now, eat it and stop complaining."
"Ada, you know I don't blame you for…"
"I know, I know. You've told me a hundred times. But I still feel bad for leaving you in the thick of it with no support whilst I slept peacefully."
"You weren't sleeping, you were unconscious. I said it wasn't your fault and I meant it. This isn't in any way your fault," Legolas said firmly, reluctantly taking a small bite of his toast and a sip of the tea, if nothing else than to please his father. Although Thranduil wanted to continue this conversation he knew Legolas wouldn't say anything further so he dropped the subject and watched his son slowly eat his breakfast. "Ada, later today I thought I might…"
"No," Thranduil said shortly, stopping what he knew was coming.
"You don't even know what I was going to say," Legolas protested incredulously.
"You were going to ask to go down and help with the repairs or to see if there is anything you can do in the Great Hall and I'm saying 'absolutely not'."
"I just think that I…"
"…Should be lying in bed, not worrying about anything but getting better."
Legolas sighed. "I feel bad just lying here doing nothing whilst everyone else is trying to help Mirkwood recover. What if someone needs me?"
Thranduil smiled gently and removed the tray from Legolas' lap so he could talk to his son properly without distractions. "The only thing I need you to be doing is resting, not worrying about what is happening outside this room. I can handle everything. Besides, Aragorn, Gandalf and Elrond are still helping. Listen, I know you feel helpless just sitting here but you have done more than enough already. Just let me take the reins for a while. There is nothing that you can do right now anyway. Trust me, sometimes even I feel like I'm getting in the way down there."
For a moment Legolas didn't look at his father. He didn't dare to look at him. He finally summoned up the courage to meet his eyes and Thranduil was startled by the emotion shining in them. "I'm worried about you," he admitted quietly.
"Legolas," Thranduil whispered softly, taking his son's hand. "You don't have to be concerned about me. I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You can't be," Legolas said, again looking away from his father.
"Why not?" the King smiled.
"Because I'm not fine."
Legolas looked up to find his father watching him in surprise. He was obviously not expecting such a confession from his proud son. He smiled softly. "I suppose you're right. But it wasn't me who led our people through this. It wasn't me who put my life on the line to protect Mirkwood's people. By no stretch of the imagination do I believe that I saved all those lives. That was all you, Legolas. You have done more than enough and I don't want you under that kind of pressure right now. Elrond says you need to rest, to recover – and before you say anything, I agree with him." Legolas nodded softly, not sure how much longer he could continue arguing this matter with his father; he was growing tired of it. "So, go back to sleep and try not to worry about me. I am taking it easy, I promise and the others are all helping me, alright?"
Legolas nodded wearily. "Alright."
"Try to go back to sleep now."
"You need to rest too," Legolas said as his father helped him lie flat again.
"I will, I promise. Rest now."
This time Legolas didn't argue and found himself quickly drifting back off into much-needed sleep. Thranduil watched him sleep for long minutes. It was hard to believe what his son had gone through and that he had still come out the other side. He wondered whether he would have had the strength to carry on in the face of everything that had happened in the kingdom during his son's forced rule. After all, he had crumbled at the very first hurdle. Rumil's death had sent him over the edge and yet the young prince – always the quieter of his two boys – had pulled himself together and not only recovered from that loss but had endured having to watch his old friends and subjects slowly dying, knowing there was nothing he could do to help them. It was difficult to picture Legolas doing all that when he now looked so small and vulnerable buried beneath the mass of blankets. Not that the prince didn't deserve the rest he was allowed now because he really, truly did. He too had suffered greatly from the disease, more so than most, and he was still paying for it now. It was a chore for him to even get out of bed anymore.
Thranduil decided to give his son some time alone to rest. He went straight to the Great Hall, which remained one giant healing hall for the still-recovering patients. The healers had sent a great number of people back to their own homes in an effort to clear the palace but some were still too sick to move and Elrond had ordered them to not even bother trying. Over the past couple of days, Thranduil had been trying his best to help with the clean-up but Elrond and the others had taken up most of the slack, wanting the King to rest up as much as possible after his own sickness. Trying to keep the King away from his people was harder than it had been to keep Legolas away so eventually they had all but given up. Aragorn was charged with keeping a close eye on him, something the young King of Gondor was eager to do anyway. If nothing else it had offered him a distraction from the terrible death and destruction all around him.
People were already getting better but the palace was still filled with the cries of the sick and the dying. Unfortunately, although the palace was slowly being cleared, Aragorn found it difficult to escape the cruel reality of what had happened. Patients still lay in the rooms in all the beds they had left. People still milled around the corridors looking sad and lost. Some were patients who wanted to offer help but most were healers, obviously still in shock at everything that had happened.
Upon entering the Great Hall, Thranduil immediately searched for Aragorn. As usual, the man was walking through the people, offering help wherever he could.
"King Elessar," Thranduil formally greeted as he approached.
Aragorn looked up when he heard the official title. Thranduil had always refused to call him anything other than 'Aragorn' or 'Estel' up until a few days ago. He seemed to have greatly warmed to the King of Gondor of late. "King Thranduil," he smiled back warmly.
Thranduil returned the gesture despite the terrible scene in the hall around him. "I've just been to see Legolas."
"Ah. How is he?" Aragorn asked, now giving Thranduil his full attention.
Thranduil's smile fell and he became serious. "He's still putting on a brave face but I can see that he's exhausted."
Aragorn nodded grimly. "He probably will be for a while. He suffered a great deal with that disease. And the cure wasn't exactly without its side-effects."
"I know. He just seems so…"
"He went through a lot, Thranduil. Just give him some time. Let him recover from the physical effects before you start questioning his emotional state."
"I know. I just wish there was something more I could do."
"Just let him rest for a while. He deserves to have a little down-time."
Thranduil's smile returned. "Thank you. I really appreciate everything you are doing, Aragorn. I heard you were a massive help to my son through all this. I cannot thank you enough for that."
Genuinely surprised, Aragorn didn't quite know what to say. It wasn't like the King to be nice to anyone, least of all the King of Men. "I didn't do anything," he said modestly.
"No. You got him through it. Thank you." To Aragorn's utter shock – bordering on horror - Thranduil wrapped him in a tight hug. Aragorn was too surprised to return it though. He honestly didn't know what to do. This had never happened to him before and he was unsure as to the protocol of such a situation.
"You…uh, you are welcome," the man said, finally returning the hug stiffly and patting the king's back. Thranduil held onto him for a moment longer but then released him, obviously sensing the man's discomfort. "Right, well, I should get on…" Aragorn cleared his throat.
"Yes." Aragorn went to move away back to his station but Thranduil stopped him. "Actually, Estel, I don't suppose you could just look in on Legolas for me. Elrond's been out in the villages and hasn't really had time today. I'm sure he's fine but if you could just stick your head around the door…"
"Of course," Aragorn exclaimed.
"Thank you. He's sleeping now but I'm sure he'd like to see you anyway. If you haven't got the time now it can wait until you're free."
"No, I'll go now. He's still in his rooms?" Aragorn asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't be overheard. The public didn't need to know where the prince was hiding out. People had been asking about him ever since the cure had been distributed and although grateful for their concerns neither Aragorn, Thranduil nor Elrond were particularly keen for him to be swamped with grateful patients, not least because if Legolas found out people were asking for him he would undoubtedly want to help them, which wouldn't help his own recovery at all. No one who knew what Legolas had been through was eager for that to happen, wanting him to rest as much as possible.
Aragorn slipped from the Great Hall before anyone could halt him and made his way down the corridors to the royal chambers, practically the only place in the palace that remained completely untouched by the plague. It was also the quietest place in Mirkwood right then.
"Aragorn," a voice stopped the man in his tracks. He spun around to find Gimli striding down the corridor after him, wiping his dirty hands on a rag. The Dwarf had been working almost non-stop building as many funeral pyres as possible for the hundreds of dead. No one had officially asked him to do it but he had insisted that he wanted to help and seeing as he was by far the best at building things, he quickly took charge of the proceedings. It wasn't easy. The Elves he was directing were obviously still in shock, most of them having lost friends and relatives, and others were still overwhelmed by the gruesome task they were now confronted with.
"Gimli," Aragorn smiled grimly. "How are you?"
"Just grand," the Dwarf quipped.
"How are things going?" Gimli just nodded, not comfortable with going into too much detail after everything he had had to do over the past weeks. Aragorn felt the same way and didn't press for an answer.
"Where are you going?"
"Gimli…" Aragorn sighed.
"Are you going to see Legolas?" the Dwarf asked eagerly. He had been desperate to visit his friend for a while but people had just kept turning him away. "Let me come with you."
"I'm not staying. I just have to look in on him," Aragorn said.
"I can look too."
"Gimli, I really don't think…"
"He won't mind. He'll probably be glad to see me; a friendly face and all that."
"I know you are eager to talk to him but he is sick, Gimli and he needs rest not visitors."
"I'll be quiet. I won't even say a word, I promise." Aragorn was about to object again so the Dwarf continued. "Please, Aragorn. I just want to see for myself that he's alright. I won't say a word. I won't fuss or disturb him. I only want to see he's alright with my own eyes. Please, Aragorn."
Aragorn sighed. "Fine. But no noise, alright?"
"Not a peep. Unless he speaks to me first," Gimli added as they continued walking down the corridor. Aragorn looked sharply down at the Dwarf. "He's the Prince of Mirkwood, I can't exactly refuse him."
When they reached the king's quarters Gimli was confronted with two impeccably dressed guards stood on either side of the door. Gimli went to stroll past them as Aragorn had done but they instantly stepped sideways, blocking the door.
"He's with me," Aragorn said firmly and the guards dutifully backed off. He and Gimli entered the sitting room and Aragorn went straight to a set of double doors and knocked. He received no answer but entered the bedroom anyway. Legolas remained asleep, having drifted off as soon as his father had commanded him to rest. Unable to suppress a smile, Aragorn walked in with Gimli shadowing him and trying to catch a glimpse of his friend. Ignoring the Dwarf, Aragorn stepped up to the bed.
Rather surprisingly, Legolas woke when Aragorn approached the bed. The man smiled softly down at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," he said softly.
Legolas struggled to sit up, suddenly becoming more alert. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently, assuming Aragorn had come to him because something had happened within the kingdom.
"No, nothing's wrong. Stay still," Aragorn reassured, stopping Legolas attempting to sit up. "Your father just asked me to look in on you. I didn't mean to alarm you." Legolas relaxed, lying back against his headboard now he knew nothing was seriously wrong in the palace. "So, how are you doing?" Aragorn grinned. Of course Legolas didn't answer and Aragorn knew it was a stupid question anyway and didn't blame his patient for not bothering to form a reply. "Anyway, we should get going and leave you to your sleep."
"We?" Legolas asked, opening his eyes, not having realised anyone else was with his friend.
Gimli stepped forward. "How are you feeling, Elf?" the Dwarf's gruff voice called, stepping forward next to Aragorn.
"Gimli," Legolas smiled. "I didn't know you were here."
"I couldn't keep him away," Aragorn grinned.
"It seems like ages since I have seen you all. How is everyone? The Hobbits? Gandalf?"
"Stop worrying about them and concentrate on getting yourself better. Everyone else is just fine."
"The Hobbits are eating you out of house and home as usual," Gimli laughed loudly, causing Aragorn to glare down at him in annoyance for breaking his promise of silence. "And Gandalf is fussing over everything…"
"They are all fine, Legolas. We are all fine," Aragorn reassured simply, stopping Gimli's babbling. "Everyone is worried about you though."
"I'm alright, Estel," Legolas muttered tiredly.
"I know," Aragorn whispered as Legolas' eyes slipped closed. "You are going to be fine, so long as you sleep. You must rest. You're no good to anyone only half alive," the man said not unkindly. He reached out and stroked Legolas' hair softly. The Prince opened his eyes and smiled blearily up at his old friend. "Go back to sleep. We have everything under control." Legolas nodded. "We'll leave you to rest."
"Actually, maybe I should stick around for a few minutes," Gimli innocently suggested.
"Legolas is just going to be sleeping. There's no point in you staying," Aragorn ground out.
"I'll be very quiet."
"Gimli, he needs…"
"It's alright, Estel," Legolas whispered, his eyes remaining closed.
Although Aragorn shot Gimli a thunderous look, he nodded. "Alright. Well I'll be around if you need me. Just send for me if you require anything at all." Another small nod from Legolas. Aragorn slowly left the room, closing the doors quietly behind him.
There was a long silence in the bedroom and Gimli thought for a moment that Legolas had fallen straight back to sleep. However, when he inched closer to the bed he found Legolas' bright blue - only half open - eyes watching him intently. For a second Gimli had the urge to follow Aragorn out of the room and leave Legolas alone to recover.
"Gimli, what's going on?" Legolas asked so quietly that Gimli had to strain to hear.
Suddenly and unexpectedly nervous around his old friend, Gimli shuffled on his feet, now wishing he didn't have to burden Legolas with what he had come to say. "I…No, don't worry. It's nothing. It can wait until you're feeling stronger. Stupid of me to even…I'll leave you to…well, you know…"
"Gimli, what is wrong?" Legolas asked a little more firmly, somehow disconcerted with his strong friend's sudden shyness.
For a second their eyes met and Gimli knew he could no longer avoid what he had come here to ask.
"I didn't want to say…but I couldn't talk to your father…" Seeing Legolas' slightly impatient look, Gimli stopped stalling and finally said what he had come to say to his friend. "You know that I have been building the funeral pyres with the other Elves?" Legolas stiffened but nodded anyway. "Well, it's about…It's about…I mean I wasn't sure what to do and I didn't want to ask Thranduil after last time…We don't know what to do about your brother. Whether you wanted a funeral or…" Legolas turned his face away from his friend at the mention of Rumil. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have even mentioned it. I'm sorry," Gimli stuttered. He went to walk out and leave the Prince to gather himself but Legolas' hushed voice stopped him.
"After everything we've had to deal with I had almost forgotten about…"
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
For a moment Gimli didn't think Legolas would say anything more but he suddenly forced himself up into a sitting position. "No, I'm glad you did," Legolas said softly, suddenly appearing distant. "I…I haven't really thought about it…I'm sorry, my friend, you shouldn't have to deal with this on top of everything else you're doing for us."
"I don't mind," Gimli said sincerely, sitting on the chair beside Legolas' bed. "I want to help if I can."
"And I appreciate it."
There was another long silence as Legolas considered the problem and Gimli didn't feel inclined too break it. He knew he was walking in dangerous territory. Not only did he know nothing about Legolas' family situation but he knew nothing about Elvish tradition either, hence his need to find out what exactly the deceased Crown Prince of Mirkwood would need for a proper funeral.
After such a long pause that Gimli started to fidget uncomfortably in his chair, he gently prompted Legolas and the Elf looked up, seemingly surprised to find his friend still there. "Forgive me, Gimli. I…I can't. Excuse me." He suddenly shoved the sheets aside and struggled to his feet. Gimli dashed over to him, steadying him when he stumbled slightly.
"Hey Elf, calm down," Gimli commanded gruffly. Legolas stopped trying to struggle away from him. "It's alright. Sit back down." The exhausted Elf did as he was told, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
"I'm sorry," he said once he had calmed down a little.
"No, I'm the one who should be apologising. I shouldn't have come to you with this."
"Forgive me but I…I just can't." Legolas trailed off, lowering his eyes when tears stung them.
"It's alright. Lie back down. Aragorn would kill me if anything happened to you." He helped Legolas back into bed and pulled the blankets back over him. "There. Now rest. I'll speak to Elrond about…Well, I'll sort it out."
"Don't worry about it. You rest. I'll just leave you to it." Before Legolas could protest again the Dwarf had fled from the room, slamming the door behind him. Once outside in the corridor, Gimli leant back against the wall. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. How could he have been so thoughtless as to assume that Legolas could handle something like that at a time like this? The prince had already been through so much.
Gimli's thoughts were interrupted by Elrond's soundless approach. "Gimli?" the healer asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Nothing. Nothing," the Dwarf stuttered, rushing away before Elrond could stop him. He hadn't been surprised by much lately. The whole palace seemed on edge – everyone was beginning to feel the pressure. Of course, Gimli had been right in the thick of it – with Legolas as well as with the clear-up. He was bound to be feeling the pressure just as much as the Elves. Shrugging, Elrond opened Legolas' door and stepped inside. He hadn't seen the prince since early that morning when he had had to dose him with something to help him sleep and he wanted to check that the young Elf was still alright. When he entered the bedroom, his eyes immediately went to the bed where he expected the prince to be resting but quickly found it to be empty. His eyes flicked to the bathroom to find Legolas slumped against the doorframe. "Legolas," he exclaimed, rushing forwards and helping the prince stand up straight. "What on earth are you doing out of bed?" Elrond asked as he held Legolas up. "Did you need…?" he discreetly nodded towards the bathroom. Legolas shook his head, closing his eyes against the dizziness. "Then let's get you back to bed."
They walked slowly towards the bed, Elrond still supporting the unstable blonde Elf. "I just needed to stretch my legs," Legolas explained weakly.
"You shouldn't try to push yourself too soon."
"I know. I'm sorry," Legolas said as he sat down heavily on the bed.
"It's alright. Let's just sort you out," he said kindly, smoothing out the rumpled bed clothes and plumping Legolas' pillows. He was about to tell Legolas that he needed to lay back down when he noticed the prince was trembling, his hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his sobs. Elrond waited silently for a moment in case Legolas hadn't wanted him to see his moment of weakness and just needed a couple of minutes to compose himself privately. However, the prince didn't seem to be able to prevent these concealed sobs so Elrond felt he had to go to him. "Legolas?" he asked gently, stepping around the bed. Legolas turned his face away from Elrond as he sat down next to him. "Mellon nin?" the healer said, placing his hand on Legolas' trembling shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Legolas said, his breath hitching as he cautiously removed his hand from his mouth.
"It's alright. I know how hard all this has been on you."
Legolas shook his head, unable to stop the sob that escaped him. "It's not…I'm sorry."
Elrond didn't remove his gaze from the young prince. "Tell me what's wrong," he said.
"It's nothing. I'm just being…stupid. It's nothing," Legolas choked.
"Well, it's obviously not nothing and I'm willing to bet it isn't stupid either. You can tell me."
"Gimli was talking about…I had forgotten. My brother…"
"Oh Legolas," Elrond whispered, immediately pulling the prince into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry. What with everything else…It had slipped my mind." It was the truth. He'd been so busy helping with the patients and handing out the cure to everyone in the kingdom he hadn't had time to think about the eldest Prince of Mirkwood and Thranduil hadn't mentioned it either.
Legolas nodded, allowing Elrond to hold him but not returning the hug, knowing the Elven Lord wouldn't be expecting it anyway. "I…I had forgotten too," Legolas said softly, unable to keep his voice from cracking but making a supreme effort nonetheless. "I forgot about my own brother, Elrond."
"Legolas, you had a thousand other things to worry about – your kingdom was falling apart, your father was so ill, not to mention the fact that at times you could barely think straight through your own illness. It wasn't like you even had time to stop and think during all this. And I know that your brother would have been immensely proud at how you've handled this crisis, just as your father and everyone in Mirkwood are." Elrond smiled down at the young prince and eventually Legolas nodded, although it was accompanied by another poorly stifled sob. Elrond held Legolas tightly to him as the young Elf cried against him for a few moments. The healer knew how close the brothers had been and although Legolas had been deeply devastated by his brother's death he had not been given the time to grieve. It was only fair that he should be allowed to do so now.
"Shhh, shh, it's alright," Elrond whispered.
Slowly Legolas regained a little composure and was able to speak. "I'm sorry, Elrond. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with this," he said tiredly.
"Hey, you have no need to apologise for anything and it is not a burden. You've every right to grieve for Rumil," Elrond told him quietly. Legolas nodded but didn't seem entirely convinced. "Now, why don't you go back to sleep and I'll send your father in to sit with you?"
Legolas sighed and removed himself from the dark-haired Elf. "He was here earlier."
"Well, I'm sure he can stand a little more time in your company."
"It's probably best not to bother him."
"He's your father, Legolas. I don't think he considers visiting you a chore." Legolas nodded slowly, flashing Elrond a weak smile. "Alright. Rest for a while. I'll send your father in a little later. It might do you some good to spend some time alone with your family. As for your brother…" Legolas dipped his head. "How about I find you somewhere you can say goodbye in peace? A nice quiet room, somewhere away from everyone else. That way you can take as much time as you need to…Well, it'll give you the opportunity to say your goodbyes. How's that?" The Elven Lord's voice was quiet and soft all the way through, knowing this was a delicate topic. Legolas nodded, quickly wiping away a silent tear that slipped down his cheek. "Alright then. Come on, lie back down and get a couple of hours' sleep."
Legolas did as he was told, allowing Elrond to pull the sheets back over him. Even the short excursion to the bathroom and back had completely drained him of all his energy and he was already sleepy again.
"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Elrond, I don't think I could have done it without your help," Legolas said quietly, blinking blearily up at the healer.
Elrond smiled softly. This was by no means the first time Legolas had thanked him. In fact, he had mentioned it nearly every time Elrond came within sight of him. And he had learned to be gracious about accepting the praise, understanding that Legolas liked to thank him and it was the only way he could show his continued appreciation. "As always, you are welcome, mellon nin. Now go to sleep. I'll make sure you're not disturbed for a few hours."
"Thank you," Legolas whispered, already on the verge of sleep. He vaguely recalled hearing Elrond slip out of the room before he fell back in deep sleep.
To Be Continued…
Ion nin – My son
Ada – Dad
Mellon nin – My friend